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queenlegacyproductions · 1 year

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The Difference Love Can Make (A My Hero Academia Story) Chapter Three

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou X Shoto Todoroki X Morrigan Carter (Black!Plus Size!OC)

AN: Guess who's back, back, back. Back again, again, again. Queen's back, back, back. Tell a friend. No, seriously. Please leave a comment. Let me know what you think of the story.

~///~

A few hours later, Morrigan found herself at her mom’s hero agency with Riley and Jordan, being tended to by medics. It was barely ten minutes after Morrigan and Riley managed to deal with the intruders for the cops and their mom to show up. Of course, Nephthys was stressed out and worried when she got the call from Jordan about Morrigan and Riley fighting some guy with phasing quirk and about how cold it was despite it being almost 90 degrees outside. She knew it could only be one villain that has that kind of power.

Cyro-Drive. Quirk - Cryo-phasing. He can freeze anything he phases through be it a wall, car or even people. Nephthys wasn’t dumb. She knew about all villains, including those not in the states. She only did that so she wouldn’t be caught off guard by anyone, should they manage to get past country borders.

Like now.

Currently, Nephthys was in her office, having an emergency meeting with the hero commission or the hero mafia as Morrigan likes to call it. Morrigan wasn’t slow. Morrigan paid attention to the news and she paid attention to her mother. She’d see how beat down she was when she came home after work and what the news was saying every night. News would say that everything was ok, just some small crimes taking place like an occasional bank robbery or illegal usage of a quirk. But Morrigan knew her moms wouldn’t be so run down if it was only small crime, which led her to do some digging.

Up until now, there had been reports of break-ins and missing people. The agenda was the same; lights went out in the house and when they came back on, someone was either gone or frozen solid from the inside out and sometimes it was both. She recognized the pattern already and knew what to do. She did scouting for weeks on end in search of his hangout or at least find some of the missing people to finally piece together why one of Japan’s top-priority villains was in the states in her city. The hero commission was doing their best to keep the people calm as the spike of criminal activity by keeping her in the positive light of the media. However, they were getting impatient with her in providing answers, despite her asking for extra help with it. Their answer was always the same; ‘Bringing in more heroes onto this will cause unrest in the city as the people would begin to feel like the city’s unsafe.’

So instead of telling the people the truth, they rather give the people a false sense of security at the expense of her mother’s sleep?

‘Muria, amirite?

Morrigan was then taken out of her thoughts when she felt a stinging sensation on her head. “Ow! What is you doin’, man?” She asked the nurse who puts her hands up in defense, scared of her outburst.

“I-I’m sorry but your head’s bleeding rather profusely.” The nurse stuttered. Morrigan goes to make a response when she sees the head of the hero commission leave her mom’s office. Without hesitation, she gets up and walks to her mom’s office. She doesn’t even bother to knock when she walks in.

“Ma, what’s going on? And don’t tell me nothing.” She demanded when she closed the door behind her.

“Watch yourself, Missy. You forgot who your mama is.” Nephthys said as she shot her daughter a glare. Morrigan rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, my momma who’s apparently ducking my question.” Morrigan sucks her teeth. “Mmmcht, why don’t you tell me what’s going on and why me and Riley basically got into a scrimmage with a renowned villain from Japan, mind you?” She crosses her arms.

“Japan?” Nephthys and Morrigan look towards the door, seeing Jordan and Riley. “Mama, what is she talkin’ ‘bout?” Nephthys sighs, realizing she’s basically cornered.

“Well, the cat’s out of the bag now. You guys are just as involved in this now.” She gestures to the chairs in front of the desk for the girls to take a seat.

~///~

“...And that’s pretty much where we are so far.” There was a moment of silence as the girls processed the info that was just relayed to them. Morrigan’s mouth opened and closed before she spoke.

“So you mean to tell me…based on what you just told us…that the only major hero in the states that is actively tracking down a national threat to Japan and now possibly the U.S…is you. Because God forbid, they actually alert the people so they can stay safe.”

“Morrigan, you also have to keep in mind; Americans are not exactly the smartest. Some of them would actually try to take the law into their own hands.” Jordan mentions.

“At that point, it’s natural selection. You have to talk that up with the lord, not the heroes.” Morrigan just waves her off.

“But it’s our job to protect them. That even means from themselves.” Nephthys said before she places her forearms on the desk. “Look, I don’t like it anymore than you guys do but that’s how things go…until now.” The girls’ eyebrows raised simultaneously.

“What do you mean about that, mama?” Riley asked.

“What I mean is that, thanks to the incident that happened at the manor, Cryo-Drive has now been reported to be fleeting back to Japan. Something about Nephthys’ brats getting the better of him.”

“Just barely. If It hadn’t been for Riley, I’d prolly been a frozen corpse by now.” Morrigan fell back into her chair in defeat. Riley looks at her with peak confusion.

“The hell-?” She paused when she saw the look on her mom’s face. “Heck are you talkin’ about? I’m pretty sure you would’ve set the house on fire if I didn’t drop him, the room was so hot.”

“And yet, I couldn’t fucking get any real offense in. Granted if I did, I would’ve set the block ablaze. I just-.” Nephthys recognized that look Morrigan had on her face as she stared up at the lights. It was a look of frustration at herself. Nephthys knew she trained day in and day out to protect those in need and her loved ones. To feel so helpless in the face of a villain…

“And yet you managed to get one of Japan’s most dangerous villains to hit the dash back overseas.” Jordan said. “What’s wrong with that?” There was a sudden chill in the room as Morrigan lost all emotion in her face.

“He got away because I thought I was sweet and got big-headed. Yes, I managed to defend myself but just barely. So if I can barely defend myself, how the fuck am i supposed to defend others?” Morrigan asked. “I still got a long way to go and a lot to learn and there’s no school in America that can adequately train me.”

“Well, lucky for you, you not going to a hero school in America.” Nephthys said. She almost lost her composure laughing when she saw the flummoxed looks on her daughter’s faces.

“What-?” Morrigan sputters a laugh in disbelief. ‘Whatchu mean I’m not goin’ to a hero school in America? Where am I’m goin’ then?”

“What I mean is that I just spoke with your guys’ teachers. After what happened and with Cryo-Drive fleeing back to Japan, the hero commission wants me to travel to Japan to help track him down. He’s been giving the heroes there the slip for quite some time, even duckin’ All Might’s grasp. But if I agree to go, I would have to bring you guys along and transfer you to another school. But in speaking with your teachers, Riley and Morrigan have enough credits to graduate early, that wouldn’t be necessary. So the only thing I would have to do was apply you two to a hero high school but the only one adequate to take you is-.”

“U.A.” Riley finished. Morrigan leans forward on her head, elbows on her knees as she thinks.

“So mama, you saying that Morrigan and Riley could attend U.A. after all?” Jordan asked the question that plagued everyone’s mind.

“Indeed. And you, my dear, would be attending Somei as well.” Nephthys explained. “So…what did you say?”

“Hell yeah! Leggo!” Riley cheered.

“Yeah, I’m ready to go! Let’s go!” Jordan cheered as well. Nephthys then looks to Morrigan who hasn’t moved from her position.

“Morrigan? What about you?” There was a few minutes of silence before Morrigan sighs, leaning back into her seat.

“How long’s the flight?”

#my hero academia #katsuki bakugou #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x black reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x black oc #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x black reader #mha #mha todoroki #mha bakugou #mha katsuki bakugo #mha shouto todoroki #bnha oc #bnha todoroki #bnha bakugou

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songbirdsingingthings · 3 years

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Sweet Escape - Levi Ackerman x Reader

WARNINGS: Angst, Major Injury, Mentions Of Blood

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Hajime Isayama

Part Two - AOT Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5K

It all happened so fast that it caused you to think it wasn’t even real. But, the searing pain in your abdomen told you otherwise. You registered the slightly tickly, slightly itchy feeling of the dry grass as you lay on your back. You could feel the blood pooling all around you, making your shirt and even your pants damp with it. I hope it doesn’t make its way into the ODM gear, you think, turning your head slightly in order to try and peek at the machinery on your hips. Levi will kill me if my blood ends up gumming up the gears.

*Flashback*

“L/N, if you don’t get your cloth moving and your mouth shut, you’ll have stable duty for two months. I hope you know that it will include mucking out each and every stall twice a day, every day.” You cringe a bit at your captain’s harsh tone, quickly picking the little rag up from beside you and making yourself busy by wiping the glass window panes. Captain Levi was always this way, even with his own squad. He wouldn’t stand for loitering or slacking off, which you respected, but he could be an incredible hardass sometimes. You weren’t even making that much noise, murmuring back and forth with your squadmate, but Levi just wouldn’t stand for it.

“Busted!” Your squadmate whispers, causing you to cover your mouth in order to not voice your giggles. Nonetheless, Captain Levi noticed. Nothing ever really flies past him, does it.

“Lieutenant, is something about that punishment funny to you?” He snarls, causing your head to whip around and face him. The piece of fabric that was previously tied around his head was now lowered, covering the cravat he always wore. Fire burned in his eyes and his expression was dangerous, almost asking you to tell him that it was indeed funny so that he could make your punishment even worse. You stuck to your manners though.

“No sir,” you say quickly.

“Tch,” he scoffs, putting the cloth back over his mouth and turning around so his back is facing you. “Do not leave this room until every speck of dust is cleaned out of here.”

“Yes sir,” you and your squadmate say simultaneously, exchanging worried looks. You waited until the captain left the room and shut the door behind him before you heaved a sigh.

“He hates me.” You state, staring back solemnly at the window that was already clean.

“He doesn’t hate you, he just thinks you’re a bit…” She trails, trying to find a proper word.

“Bad at being a Scout?” You offer. She shakes her head. “Well even if that’s not the word you’re looking for, it’s true.” You huff, now moving onto the armoire in the corner of the room. You let the rag gently trace the intricate carving on it, finding little joy in the indented details that attracted dust.

“Sour! He thinks you’re a bit sour.” She deduces. You look at her with a somewhat hurt expression.

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Well I don’t think you’re sour, neither does anyone else.” She reasons.

“But your approval isn’t what I need… not that I need approval!” You say, quickly.

“But you want his, don’t you.” Your squadmate states, earning a groan of dismay from you.

“I don’t even know why! I know I was chosen for his squad for a reason and that my statistics show for themselves, but there is just something in me that demands for him to like me as a person.” At your statement, she bursts out laughing. An incredulous look flashes across your face at her reaction. “What?!” You exclaim, feeling a little self-conscious now.

“Oh nothing, you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

It was getting tougher to breathe evenly. You were trying to focus on your breaths; in for six seconds, hold for two, out for seven seconds. Instead, you felt like you were exhaling faster than you were inhaling, providing little air for your lungs. It was like some dust was lodged in there and wasn’t budging. Maybe it actually was dust and all those times that Levi had told you to cover your mouth was for a reason. Your shirt was now fully soaked in your red blood and it started to leak out onto the prickly grass. Please let the others be okay, you think, your eyes still stuck on the azure sky. You could hear the faint yells and screams from scouts in the distance. There would be no chance that anyone would come back to get you, they were too far away. I’m going to die alone with my own thoughts, you conclude, letting tears drip from your eyes as you awaited your lonesome death. The mechanical sound of ODM gear roused you from your thoughts, causing your eyes to dart over towards the commotion. Whoever was using the gear landed quickly and their steps over to you were urgent.

“L/N!” They shouted. Your eyes closed at the voice, finding it quite ironic that the man who hated you the most would be the one to comfort you as you slipped away into the awaiting abyss of darkness. He dropped to his knees beside you and quickly scanned over your body to find the source of your bleeding.

“Levi…” You said, gasping in pain as he removed his cape from his shoulders and pressed it into your abdomen.

“Hush, brat, we don’t need you exerting any more energy than you have to.” He says, his tone still the harsh one you were used to.

“I’m sorry.” You manage, causing his gaze to lock with your own. He found your eyes to be swimming with yes, tears, but also incredible remorse. His hard exterior fell a bit at this.

“Why on earth are you sorry?” He asks, now taking off his Scout jacket and laying it across you to preserve your body heat.

“I’m sorry that I was such a bad scout… and a bad cleaner… and that I was so sour that it made you hate me.” You finish, giving him a sad smile. Levi shook his head immediately, and slid his body so it was easier for you to look at him.

“I never hated you,” He says softly. Your eyes widen at his words. “You were noisy, and talkative, and sometimes even energetic to a fault… but I never, ever hated you. How could I, when you were such a source of sunshine?” You didn’t make an effort to stop that sob that escaped your mouth.

“Man, I really blew it, huh,” you croak, feeling more lightheaded than before. Levi cocked his head in confusion. “She told me that i’d figure it out soon enough, and now that I have, it’s way too late.” You pause to take a few breaths. “I love you. That’s why I wanted you to see me as capable. But now I’m dying, and your face won’t be the one to greet me after I wake up, even though most of the time you were yelling at me because I overslept.” A strained laugh escaped you as Levi looked at you with despair laced in his eyes. “What I wouldn’t have given to just end this whole thing and leave to live in a flower-filled meadow or somewhere peaceful like that. Wouldn’t that be sweet?” You whisper. Your fingers and toes were growing numb and your body felt cold. You were running out of time. The moment your eyelids began drooping, Levi frantically lifted your head and set it down gently in his lap.

“No, no, no, you keep your eyes open Lieutenant.” He was practically begging you at this point. “I shot a signal flare so the medics will be here soon, just hold on.”

You gave him a grin, but your once pearly whites were now stained with red. Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, ignoring the screaming pain in your side. You saw the blood that your hand was smudging on his cheek, but he made no effort to cringe from it or try and wipe it off.

“You tell them that I wasn’t a crybaby when this whole thing went down, okay? I want everyone to remember me as someone who stood strong in their last moments.” Levi was shaking his head as he reached his own hand up to yours so that he could hold it.

“I’m not gonna do that, because you’re gonna be okay. You do not get to leave me, you understand?” You felt your hand begin to grow wet with his tears.

“Please don’t be sad, Levi.” You ask of him, your eyes pleading. “Can I get a smile? I’ve never seen one on you once, and I think it would look just wonderful on you.” To your loopy surprise, he obliges, sprouting a wobbly, but visible, smile. You were right. He looked wonderful. In the distance, but coming closer to you, you could hear the sounds of horses pulling a wagon behind them.

“See, the medics are right here. Just hold on a little longer!” Levi exclaims, worry still prevalent in his demeanor. You felt people gather around you, but you were too tired to open your eyes. The last thing you felt, before your mind slipped into unconsciousness, was the feeling of Levi’s lips on your forehead. What a sweet escape.

A/N: This could potentially have a part two? Idk, I’m pretty much fine leaving it here like this, but if anyone wants a part two lemme know!

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doopy-n-loopy · 3 years

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How would yandere mercs react to us trying to escape late at night?

Well not well that's for sure!

Yan!Mercenaries (TF2) × Reader hcs/ imagines

// Yandere themes, violence, fear play, yandere shit

Defense

Demo

You got out of Demo's bed, you had given him more alcohol than usual to keep him asleep. You looked over the heavily snoring figure beside you. The scot had his mouth wide open and a bottle of beer cluched in his palm. You leaned in and blew on his eye to make sure he was asleep, and there was no physical response from him. You then quickly slipped on your clothes and pulled out the small bag you've been hiding behind the nightstand, it was filled with money and other essentials like pepper spray, sunglasses, and a cloak.

You walked out of the room, taking one last look at the scot before tiptoing out of the house, avoiding scattered empty alcohol containers on the ground.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a voice from behind you

"y/n? What are ye doing?"

He was drunk of course, but when wasn't he? It was like he was sober in his own way. Sober enough to recognize that guilty look on your face. His expression twisted into an angry snarl and he grabbed you by the wrist, dragging you down the stairs into the basement

"you'll stay here till you know how to listen"

He said trying to conceal his anger, but failing to do so

He could also just have a breakdown depending on the type of night it was and guilt you into staying

He will be a lot more strict on you

Heavy

You were looking to escape in the night but heavy lives in an eternal blizzard basically so... That's not a great idea

But lets say you've been preparing for awhile and got everything set up, a snow mobile, warm clothes, and a torch

But the moment you get to the shed, you find that your snow mobile is broken

Heavy then appears out of a corner of darkness with an upset expression

It's silent for a moment, until he speaks

"After all Heavy has done for you? Why?"

You felt guilt building up into your throat as you tried to search for an excuse. Unable to find one. He isn't a very restricting yandere, in fact, he's much tamer than most, he's given you basically all he has and to do this is like a slap in the face.

"Heavy will forgive you, if you just come back" he said while smiling

You were then gently pushed back out into the cold in the direction of his house, where you'd be staying once more

If he was in a bad mood, he'd be a little more rough

He also will place more restrictions on you but it's not like you'd notice considering it's not much

Engineer

You were about to leave in your car at night, when you tried turning it on, it wouldn't start. Engie then walks in front of your car and waves at you for you to come out, which after hesitating, you comply.

He walks over to you and hugs you, which confuses you. He tells you it's alright and that you don't have to go

"I'm sorry but, I want to leave" you stutter out

He panics internally and grips your shoulder, looking you in your eye

"do you know what could happen to you out there? Rapists! Murderers! The world ain't sugar n' honey, darlin"

"but-" you respond, suddenly cut off by him

"but you're safe here with me. I'll always protect you"

He hugs you once again, sucked into that warm embrace, you calm down and walk back with him

You were restricted from certain things from then on

Offense

Scout

You got into a fight with him earlier and in the middle of the night, you decided it was time to leave.

You packed a bag of clothes, some water, money, and other essentials

As you got your keys, you were met with a sleepy eyed scout who had bedhead

"Y/N....? The hell are ya doin?"

It takes a second for scout to process what's going on. You're grabbing your keys, you're fully dressed, and you had a suitcase with you

"Jeremy. I'm leaving*

You said sternly. You could see in his eyes that his heart shattered into a million pieces

"Wai- what no! No no no no! Please y/n you gotta stay please!"

He begged, grabbing onto your coat as you began to walk out. Tears formed on his face but you ignored it

"I can't put up with this anymore"

You said, voice cracking from the pain in your heart. Scout was sobbing now, he kneeled in front of you to stop you

"I'm so sorry I'm so sorry! I'll change I swear I'll become better! You want to go to eat out more? I got the money! I'll treat you nicely!"

You didn't believe a word he said, but with the way he was talking, it had to be true.

"Please I love you so much and it would kill me to lose you... Literally... You're my world to me, baby"

You bit your quivering lip as you looked down at him like he was a sad puppy. You sniffled and dropped your bags, huffing in defeat

".. I'm sorry. I'm just tired"

Scout was overjoyed to hear this. That night he clung to you

Scout didn't really become more strict, but he did become more loving to avoid that again.

Pyro

This one is scary, scarier than support classes even

You were almost out the door when they spotted you. They gave you an inquisitive look. You both shared a minute of uncomfortable silence before you bolted out the door. Pyro was unprepared for this, giving you some time to create distance between you two.

But Pyro was quick to get ready and they were out the door in no time with their flamethrower, ready to burn down acres of forests in order to catch you

You could hear pyro approaching, knowing that once you reach your car at the end of the base, you'll be safe and free.

While you were running, it seemed like their footsteps had been fading ever since they've gotten louder. Until you couldn't hear it anymore. You didn't pay any mind to this since your objective was just getting ti your car

When you arrived at the boarders of their territory when you stopped in your tracks

Pyro was leaning over their axe by the car, looking smug as ever. You looked towards your car and gasped.

Pyro had shredded the tires and broke open every window so you couldn't escape. You stood there as pyro approached you and swept you up in their arms, snuggling their mask into your neck the entire way home while you couldn't help but softly sob

Soldier

Soldier would lose his shit

He's already super strict, forces you to get up at 5 am every morning and run laps like you're in the military, makes you eat either MRE packets or home cooked food and you better hope it's an MRE pack because he cannot cook

So when he sees you at your car late at night, he screams at the top of his lungs enough to scare you into shock

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MAGGOT? GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!"

I could see this going one of two ways, either complying or he has to chase you down (which he will)

If he has to chase you down, he won't be happy about it, and become even more strict than before (which I don't think is possible but it's soldier)

Support

Sniper

You... What?

How did you even get the idea that you could escape?

You live in his fucking van, you won't have a car other than his van

But lets say you saw the chance for escape, and tried to take it. You either got shut down the moment you got out of bed or you were lucky enough to get far away from the van

"get your bloody ass back to bed" is something he'd say if he shut you down the moment you stood up

But this man is a sniper, he can scope you out easily, and he won't hesitate to use a tranq on you

After that, you're back in the chains

Spy

Scary

Did you really think you could?

He knew you were gonna escape before you even escaped

He'd make very subtle remarks about it and remind you of what he could do

"Do you remember about the undercover mission in Spain back when I was working for the government that I told you about? When I was able to find the traitor using three clues. Even after all his records were erased"

Subtle shit like that to remind you who's in control

But lets say you didn't take the hint, and you decided to try and escape anyways

He'd catch you in the living room trying to escape, and send you back to bed

Or, you'd get lucky and be able to run away, meaning he'd be on a job

Trust me, he will find you within 48 hours, 24 if you aren't moving that much

He's very manipulative so he'd try to make you feel bad about it.

Much more strict afterwards

Medic

I have a feeling he'd already knowz but not to the extent that spy does

He notices your behavior, and how you're starting to become a bit more.. energetic?

Anyways, like spy, he'll warn you subtly

"You seem to always find yourself injured in any way. And like they say, a medic can track an injured person like a gps system, ja?"

If you decide to escape, he'll have some fun with you definitely. He'll late you run far enough to think that you're finally free, before he catches you and brings you back. He's sadistic.

He'll laugh at your face and degrade and humiliate you, making you regret ever trying

After that, he's much more strict, and demanding from you

Bonus cause I wanted to: Pauling

Pauling like spy, can track people very easily

I wouldn't even be surprised if she convinced medic to help put a tracker in you

Well, she'd be at work checking your location every hour. And the moment she finds out that you're not in the house but at a motel, she's pissed.

She has to quickly finish up work before taking her time to go catch you, and trust me, if Pauling takes time off work for something it's important

Once she finds you, she tells you to come out, trying to keep it civil. When you don't, she ends up busting through the door and taking you herself.

On the way home, she complains about how you worried her and made her miss some work like a parent going to pick up their sick kid from school

She eventually cools off after she gets you home, but she is definitely more strict

Gify was acting up so I couldn't download any more gifs 😭

Anyways feel free to request again!

#yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere tf2 #yandere tf2 × reader #doopyloopyyandere #doopyloopy's asks #doopyloopy's headcannons

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bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

Hi! I saw requests were open so I have one :] can you do a levi x marley nurse reader? Maybe she meets him when the scouts are undercover and they meet again when she finds out he's from Paradis? But the reader still helps Levi and both gain feelings with each other over time. Thank you and sorry this is specific sounding 😅💕

“i’d become a traitor just to be with you”

pairing: levi ackerman x female reader

cw: fluff, swearing

word count: 2400+

a/n: i’m so sorry for this coming out so late, idk why i’ve been unmotivated to write requests, but i swear all i have now is requests and my event on my list, also yeah check my 1k event out its the pinned post

summary: in which you’re a marley nurse having befriended levi without knowing his identity with the raid of liberio dawning on the survey corps having been followed by you, levi’s truth is revealed and a confession of your own, maybe there is happiness for you two

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

The sound of the bells rang through the city, the medical facility had gotten their fair share of injuries after the win against the Mid-East a couple weeks ago. You had helped the injured to beds, wrapping the bandages around their blood-filled scars, after a long day of helping you were finally able to leave, not to your home, however. You stood against the brick wall, your nurse’s uniform clinging onto you, having seen the injured Eldians, the way the Marleyan soldiers shouted and taunted the weak made you sick to the stomach.

“Y/n.” The familiar voice came from the side, his dull eyes softer at the sight of how you had waited for him. “You waited.”

“I wasn’t going to just leave you.” You had met the man a few weeks back, he'd often come past the medical facility and had caught your eye, even having asked your name. He was sweet with his black undercut and suit, handsome even. But those eyes, those emotionless eyes had a past, you didn't know what it was, but you wanted to know.

He had asked you to go on a walk with him, even after every day of seeing the man he wanted to spend alone time together. By being an Eldian yourself you understood the pains of being one but being subjected by the Marleyans weren’t that bad, well that’s what you’d repeatedly say. It was all a lie, your parents having been sent to Paradis, having been sent to their deaths, sent to become titans.

The man put his hand out, you softly laced your fingers in his, for such a mysterious man his little touches the past weeks had grown. Now seeing him almost every day, this time it felt different, it felt like he was fearful. “The festivals tomorrow.” You smile out trying to make conversation with him.

His grip tightened as he looked down at your smaller figure, “I heard, you going?”

“Yeah, Falco that boy I told you about invited me to tag along with him and his friends.” You smiled out, in a matter of minutes the hand that had encased your own fell, you felt lonely almost. It was bad enough to have fallen for a man so mysterious, you never did know why he came to the medical facility. He was always so quiet yet spoke so much but now it seemed he was distant for another reason.

“You should stay home tomorrow.” You tilted your head in confusion, it wasn't an event that you could really miss. Having promised Falco that you'd go after he'd come to visit the long-haired man.

“Oh, I was going to invite you to come along.” You let out a heavy breath, you had thought something could come between the two of you. The long looks he’d give you as you tended to patients he looked down into the dark, taking a corner as you followed. You didn't even realise where you were going until it was just the two of you into a narrow alleyway.

He stops in his tracks looking at you, he doesn't meet your gaze, “get out of Liberio.”

“Levi.” You were even more confused than before, “what’s going on?”

He takes a few steps back, continuing to think about his choice right now. He knew from the first day he had met you, he needed to stay as far away as possible. He saw how you came up to him with that smile, oh god the smile that melted his heart. For the first time in years he had smiled back, a genuine smile at the way you helped the Eldians, how you secured their bandages, talked to the dying. How could he have not liked you and now the threat of you dying tomorrow. The threat that something would happen stayed with him until he met your worried gaze.

Your eyes glossed over, confusion filling you, the distance between the two of you making it harder to even see him properly. You remembered the conversation from this morning, how he had come up to you with haste.

“Hey Levi, this is earlier than usual?” You smiled brightly, the papers in your hand as you let him follow you around. His steps felt too cautious like he had more to say but couldn't instead he kept silent until your gaze fully went onto the black-haired boy.

He looks down not meeting your gaze, “can we meet after you finish work?”

“Umm sure why?” You pass the papers to the other nurses, he looks at how perfect you looked, how your hair set perfectly across your face.

Looking out the window, he notices the boy he had known you have called Falco run off with a letter. Before turning back to face you, “I just need to talk to you.”

“Okay I finish at 9.” He nods taking steps away.

How had you not realised, the way he walked away without even a goodbye. The way he hadn't cared to ask for your day, was this the end of whatever you could call this, was it even a friendship.

“Levi…” You repeated his name waiting for a response, he looked down at you wary of what to say. If he should even tell you, he knew your feelings to those in Paradis how your parents had been sent there. How you didn’t have the same hatred as the others but were wary instead. Would that wariness become something more, would it become disgust for him?

“Forget me.” He mutters about to walk away, walk out of your life. He hoped you’d listen to his words and hoped that you wouldn't go to the festival tomorrow.

You watched him walk away, how could he do this? Leave without an explanation, how could he say the simple two words, forget me you weren't some animal that could forget someone who had impacted your life. You stood there in silence watching as his figure disappeared, you heard the sadness that washed over you and did something you might have regretted.

Following the man, you wanted a reason at least. A reason for this coming out tonight, what had changed and what was so special about the festival, it was supposed to be joyous seeing the stalls with your friends. But the way he spoke, the way he wanted you to not go, it had an undertone of worry, he knew more than he was letting off.

You watched him walking into one of the abandoned buildings, the way he opened the door as if he’d done it a million times. You crept past going to the windows, you looked through, glad that the curtains were closed, and a gap was evident. Watching how Levi sat on the chair surrounded by other men and women, one with glasses looking at the man with confusion. There was talking, quiet talking until the woman spoke loudly making everyone shudder.

“Eren’s letters have told us what’s going on?” She paused; your fingers perched on top of the window sill. It was intrusive, but he left you with nothing, you deserved something. Well that's what you kept saying to yourself. The question at hand was who was this Eren, you only knew one Eren and that was the man who was with Falco. The memory of Falco with a letter sprung into your mind. It couldn't be, there couldn't be a link between these people and the injured man. “The Warhammer titan will be there tomorrow, that’s when we strike.”

“Are we sure Eren will be able to get Reiner?” A man spoke with long brown hair, he was tall, much taller than Levi and stood leaning against the wall.

“He better.” Is all Levi said, all conversation regarding Eren’s capability had ended and had turned to the plan at hand. Your mind going through what you had just heard, what was there interest in the Warhammer titan, or even worse how did they know Reiner?

The woman continued talking, having been in your own mind you heard the last bit, a shock running through your veins, “...we bring Eren back to Paradise.”

You clamped your hand to your mouth, falling against the wall in shock. Paradis, they said Paradis, Levi, he couldn’t be, but he was. Your Levi, the man who was always wary about his past, was always dismissing your questions of his past was from Paradis and even worse that means he was the Levi Ackerman that Porco had spoken about. Trying to suppress the worry that flew over you, you looked down to the soil, the way you breathed heavily against your palm and then the sound of a gun to your head.

“Who the hell are you?” It was the same boy from inside, you hadn't realised he had come outside, but with the gun cocked to your skull. You could barely speak, “Hanje, Levi.”

At the sound of the boys shout the two came out, Levi’s eyes widening at the sight of you on the ground. The sight of fear that ran through you, he knew you heard it all and all he could think about was if you wanted him to die. “Put the gun down Jean.” Jean confusingly complied as Levi stepped towards you, those inside having come to see what the commotion was.

“Y/n.” Levi bent down to meet your face, you refused to make eye contact.

Hanje spoke aloud, “you know her?”

He ignored the question, trying to meet your eyes, “Y/n…”

“You could’ve told me.” It was a whisper, but a shock filled him at your voice, “why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

You didn't care if he was from Paradis, you hated the Marleyans, all of them for what they did to your parents. Both sides were the same, but meeting someone actually from Paradis, falling for someone from Paradis how could you ever join the Marleyans now.

“Your people hate us.” He was blunt about it which was the obvious answer.

You looked at his face, “I fucking hate you…” His face fell, “for not telling me, Levi after everything I told you about with my parents, you really think I’d ever be on Marley’s side.”

He hadn't thought of that, only thinking that the sides had been determined. He hadn’t meant to come and see you every day for weeks, he hadn’t meant to ask about your day and your past. He hadn’t meant to fall for you, but he did and you, you stared at him with all the love you had.

“Is nobody going to explain what’s happening, or are we shooting her?” Levi glared at Jean as you looked down at your scathed fingers.

Helping you up, you looked at the group from Paradis, your history books had spoken about the devils beyond the sea but looking at the men and women. Those at home felt more devilish than these people, “this is Y/n, she works at the hospital Eren’s at.” So the Eren at your hospital was the Eren Yeager with the truths of how you both knew each other coming out.

One question stayed on everybody's minds, “can we trust her?” Hanje spoke what everybody was thinking.

Levi looked at you, his hand skimming your fingers that were to the side of your body, “i had nobody…” You turn back to Levi, meeting his eyes for the first time this night, “you can trust me.”

“How can we trust her word?” Jean questioned looking at the closeness between you and Levi.

Levi had be relieved but needed to settle the peace some way, “i trust her and she can help us, she’s a nurse.”

“One wrong move and we’ll take her hostage.” Hanje spoke happily, you didn't know if it was out of her wanting to experiment on you or she was always this happy but whatever it was you didn’t dare say another word.

The group had dispersed back into the abandoned building. Levi looked at you with a soft look, “let me walk you home.”

You nod, as he puts his hand out, taking it you smile at him. It was soft and Levi had thought it to be the last one he’d get from you. “We intend to go home afterwards.”

“Oh…” You trail off.

“If you really have nobody than you could come with us?” Your eyes light up at the sound of his words, he was wary of your acceptance, wary that his confession was all for nothing.

“Really? You’d want me to come with you.”

He looked up into the dark sky, home had been a faraway place. But in this moment with you he felt at home, after the losses he’d experienced, he knew he had met someone special. He had to keep you by his side even if his prior words were to keep you safe, he could keep you safe in Paradis. “Levi, I don't have anybody here.”

He doesn't question it, his grip tightening, taking you to your house, he had spent countless times dropping you home. But this time, the walk seemed different, the questions running through his head, “why?”

“Why what?” You stepped closer to your house door, the last time you’d see it in its glory before the destruction of tomorrow occurred.

He looked at you, “why are you helping us?”

“You…” You trail off, opening the door as you walk inside, Levi following and shutting the door behind him. He had never seen the inside of your place, the photo frames across the mantel piece, the books lying across the room. “I’d become a traitor just to be with you.”

Your words got him out of his gaze, he watched how you started around the place, it was never home. You knew what home was and he stood directly in front of you, he walked towards you, eyes becoming softer before he brought his hand to your cheek, “I’ll come and get you tomorrow morning.”

You nod his hand still on your cheek, he looks down at your lips watching you lick them before bringing your face to his own. His warm lips against your own, a softness coming from the kiss, before your hands went to his hair bringing him down to your height, making the kiss faster, filled with love and lust built up from the weeks. His hands moved to cup your face, his tongue gliding across your tongue, the sounds of your moans filled the room. His body was comfortable, was home and you were never going to let that go.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

Claiming Ones Own

Cross posted on my AO3. Thank you again @boldlyanxious for your encouragement.

Decided that there wasn't enough Cass and Marinette fics and finally got this concept out my head and written down.

Masterlist

[next]

Chapter 1 - Cass gains a child

Cass could feel Jason’s frustrations radiating off him. He was over from Gotham to help tracking a new drug that had cropped up over there but originated in Hong Kong. They had managed to find the Hong Kong point of contact from the Gotham Drug Lord and now trying to work out the Hong Kong network.

Currently they were seated on top of a building observing their latest suspect.

She could feel the irritation pulsating off Jason, the twitch of his fingers ever so often. The low almost inaudible growl. The way the air around him vibrated with his emotions ready to pounce.

The annoyance stemmed from following the suspect for over a fortnight and it was clear that the gang rarely met up in person and was apt at avoiding use of technology to communicate. Cass was happy being a ghost bat in Hong Kong at the present. The lack of use in tech made it trickier to gain evidence for the police to surreptitiously stumble upon.

Tapping Jason, Cass signed to him ‘we need to infiltrate or plant recording devices’

“Yeah” came the response as he turned back to observe the suspect, “Recording devices is probably the quickest way. The way these guys are operating will make it hard to infiltrate quickly.”

Moments later “Fuckers!!” Jason snarled. Fingers twitching even more towards his gun.

Cass looked down and saw what caused Jason’s outburst. They had recently concluded that the men used street kids to send messages to each other, the unseen people of the city who were very good at being avoided. The gang that used them seemed hold and extraordinary amount of power held over these kids.

“Fucking pieces of shit” Jason muttered to Cass as they watched what the men were doing. Cass narrowed her eyes and silently nodded. She focused on the child who ran off observing the direction and movement. Suddenly she jabbed Jason and whispered “look” pointing to the child. They observed the girl knock into a man and sneakily pickpocket him before scampering off.

Cass nudged Jason quietly saying “plan”, before signing ‘if we can get a tracker on a kid and let them pick pocket us we can work out the number of locations and maybe plant recording devices’ Jason replied “hmmmm, risky but quicker than waiting for these bozos to slip up”.

The next few days the pair watch their target, also taking note of the street kids, to figure out who they would let target them, before deciding on the original girl they saw. She was petite, either due to age or, more likely, malnourishment. She had dark hair but what made her stand was having unexpected blue eyes. She was more skittish around the original suspect and other gang members they had come across but was bolder in her pick pocketing. She was creative in her approaches and had a far higher success rate compared to the other children. It was clear she felt safer amongst strangers who, if caught her, could seriously cause issues, than the men she was working for.

While Jason blustered and verbally vented his anger, Cass’s anger grew silent but more deadly. Neither were happy about the blatant child abuse occurring.

Having figured out the type of “target” the girl went for both Cass and Jason set the plan in motion. Trackers and recorders on their wallets, lots of cash and fake credit card trackers and recorders along with a micro trackers to put on the girl in case she ditches the wallet and just takes the cash. They dressed slightly better than the average person to showcase “wealth” which she seemed more inclined to go for and headed out.

Out on the streets she fell for their plan perfectly. Cass was able to slip the tracker onto the child while she slipped Jason’s wallet out his pocket. The pair continued their loop round back to Cass’s apartment to see where the kid went.

“Cass, fuck! She is good. If I’d not grown up on Crime Alley I would have struggled to notice. She is fucking good. Too bloody good! Shitting hell, that kinda skill only comes with practice! Like a fuck load of practice! Crap! She’s tiny! How bloody long has she been having to do this for! Fuck how long has she lived on the streets” Jason cursed. He was impressed but could feel the anger brewing, the desire to hurt someone.

“Long time” Cass replied before signing ‘She’s too thin. Her eyes showed fire. Determination but haunted’. The look in her eye’s had struck a chord with Cass when they 'bumped' into each other. Something about them resonated within her but Cass wasn’t quite ready to name it yet.

Back at the apartment they watched the trackers path and patterns over the next few days. Their little pickpocket went to 5 different warehouses along with a few apartments and the original dock with the first suspect repeatedly. Rarely using the same route or common paths, though destination always the same.

The pair scouted out the warehouses and apartments to get a better understanding of how the operation was run. It wasn’t just drug’s they were producing and exporting but also slave trafficking as well. No wonder the kids were terrified of the adults. They could easily be shipped off at any moment if they stepped out of line.

Cass’s disgust was intensifying with this discovery. They were practically slaves as it is even with the external slave threat hanging over them.

Cass could hear Jason loading of a gun. Looks like Jason’s preferred method of elimination would be soon be seen.

Over the course of a week. Cass and Jason snuck into each warehouse, planting bombs on secure/obscure locations. Carefully the explosions would leave just enough evidence for the police to take the gang down but also eliminate the gangs means to continue operating. Whilst trying to minimise external impact of neighbouring buildings. Well at least that was the aim. Anonymous hints were also sent or found at police stations.

All they now had to do was press the button on Jason's phone to ignite the bombs at the warehouses and take down the headquarters.

Jason and Cass crept into the headquarters building sticking to the shadows. Cass signed 'detonate' to Jason who grinned manically and did his thing. With so many warehouses littered with explosives you could hear when they went off. Shortly followed by the sound of sirens.

Cass and Jason used the distraction to sweep through the building taking out henchmen left, right and centre. Their anger and fury finally being released.

The pair had completed taking the men above ground up and were tying the stragglers up when they heard sirens approaching. They quickly slinked into the shadows out of sight to observe. Cass was still wanting to maintain that bats were still an urban rumour in Hong Kong at this point.

The police swept the upstairs building observing the chaos Cass and Jason had left while a group of them went off to look in the basement. Over the radio they heard a crackly “Chief, you may want to come down here. Bring bold cutters with you. And call social services and a med team. I think we will need that.”

“What's happened!” the chief replied, signalling to an officer nearby to call the services requested.

“They’ve got a group of kids caged up down here” came the crackly reply. Half of the team that went to the basement returned with a cuffed pair from the gang and took them to the cars outside. The chief muttered to himself and to the basement.

In the shadows Jason signed to Cass ‘Fuck! I should have killed those men! No! Wait! Death would be too sweet. Maimed them more” Cass nodded in agreement though her gaze kept focus on the scene they were observing.

The police slowly led the children out of the basement and, from somewhere, had a paramedic check the children out along with having someone from social services talk to them.

Then came Cass and Jason's pickpocket. The girl growled at them all and kept her distance refusing to let the paramedic treat her.

A kid spoke out to an officer "You won't get anything from her. She doesn't really speak. Or not to us at least. Dolly is a puppet and does what the Bossman says. Doesn't trust anyone"

"Yeah I don’t think Marionette has ever spoke while I've been here and that's ages, I think she was one of the first they got" another provided. Murmurs of agreement rippled through the small group children.

The girl stood watching like a cornered animal, eyes darting everywhere, looking like she wanted to escape. She seemed to see through the shadows and stared right at Cass and Jason which unsettled the bat duo. They were nearly invisible to the others in the room. But not this small child.

Quietly Cass whispered while signing "Safe. Mean men gone. Be ok now." to the girl. Even if the crowded room didn’t notice, she was positive this small girl could see her in the gloom. A small amount of tension left the girls shoulders.

Eventually the other children had all been seen by the medic, spoken to the police while the social worker was working on finding places for them to go for the interim. It was just this girl left to resolve. Having seen the adults treat the other children with care she cautiously let them look at her, warily viewing everyone and still ready for a quick escape if needed.

"Malnourished, a fair number of cuts and some nasty bruises from what I can tell. There doesn't appear to be any broken bones thankfully. She will need a careful diet to increase her weight and vitamins to help with what is likely to have missed out of her diet. Much like the rest of them. She should be good to go after I’ve dressed this cuts" said the medic looking the girl over. He turned to grab a wipe and bandage and the girl was off.

She swiftly slipped through the adults in the room and darted out onto the streets to disappear. Loud shouts occur from the chaos left behind.

Cass watched the girl intently. Observing her movements. Cass could tell though she was cooperating, the girl was planning. The glint in her eyes and slight angle of her body. As soon as she shifted to move Cass grabbed Jason and they slipped outside following her quickly. Sticking to the roofs they tracked the girl down to an alleyway. The girl was terrified. She knew they had caught her. She was trapped though and though frantically looking for different ways to avoid them was stuck.

“Safe now” Cass whispered signing along “Promise men are gone now. We won’t hurt you. We’ll look after you. You’ll be safe now”.

Carefully Cass approached the girl as if a frightened animal. Cass quietly said to Jason “Chocolate” holding her hand out for him to give it to him. Calmly and gently as possible she placed the chocolate near her and waited sitting on the floor gracefully. She could see the fear in the girl’s eyes, with distrust but there was a burning fire as well. Patience would be the key to winning the child over.

Cass knew she wasn’t going to let this girl go, let alone let her live on the streets and she was sure that Jason was of the same mind set.

Slowly they saw the girl take the chocolate. The child inspected it with caution and nibble it. The way her eyes grew wide was a delight and she ate it in haste. While she nibbled, she kept her eyes trained on the pair watching their movements.

When finished she remained cautiously looking at them, but body language didn’t scream “fear”, more curiosity was emerging. Cass smirked as she understood that she was reading their body language and reading their intent as much they were hers. Cass opened her body language up. Again reiterating ‘Safe now’ “Safe” to the girl. The girl’s eyes bored into hers whilst moments pass, and when the girl found what she was looking for offered her hand to Cass to hold.

Cass turned to Jason and stares straight into his eyes, “My child now”.

[next]

#maribat #Marinette x Cass #Marinette x Jason #platonic #ml x dc #mlb x dc #found family #maribat au

324 notes · View notes

thetriggeredhappy · 3 years

Note

can I request sniper and scout planning a little secret symbolic wedding for themselves? its just self indulgent, since they wanna have this connection so they do a tiny intimate thing for the two of them but then all the two teams show up, ms pauling, sniper's parents and scout's family to celebrate too, and they all have a happy day

i dunno if this one will be coherent or and i dont have a joke for ya so thats where we’re at today

(no warnings)

He notices Scout looking at things just a little longer. Scout was a man of motion, of emotion, of elation, so seeing him pause, ever, for any length of time, was enough to pique Sniper’s interest. It had to be a big deal, of Scout was looking at it, and he prided himself on being observant.

So seeing the things he paused in front of—jewelry stores, boutiques, flower shops, at first it confused him, but then he saw what Scout was looking at in them. The flower shops had pretty arrangements right in front, labeled vaguely in some with phrases like ‘arrangements for your special day!’ and less vaguely in others as ‘wedding arrangements available’. The boutiques often with white dresses towards the front, and pictures of smiling couples nearby.

Little cards in the display of the jewelry store window proclaiming ‘engagement rings’.

It didn’t take long to piece together.

A number of issues were present. The concept of legal marriage alone was a big one. First because they were two men, one of whom was shaky in terms of immigration and two of whom were shaky in terms of being legally defined as criminals of the highest degree, potentially legally dead in some ways, and certainly smart enough to not walk into a courthouse. Besides that, the paperwork involved, the idea of getting either of their families around when Scout’s family was constantly on the wind in at least one corner and his own hardly on speaking terms with him, the heartbreak—

But Scout paused when he looked at the engagement rings.

Sniper was increasingly exasperated and helpless against the little voice in his head that seemed to watch out for Scout’s well-being, that said, well, couldn’t he at least try and figure something else out?

So it took some thinking. Some rehearsing his words in his own head. Some justifications being made, torn down, analyzed and readdressed with a clearer mind. And he came to a decision.

And when he next got the chance, he called his mum and had a talk with her about a lot of things, so many of them at least a decade and a half in the making. And she didn’t understand, not at all, not on that first phone call, not on the second. But on the third she took care to assure him that she would try, she really would, she really would, and finally gave him permission to use the old family heirloom engagement ring.

And it was subtle and sudden when Sniper proposed. Scout was sat on the steps of the camper, using Sniper’s pocket knife to pick mud out of the soles of his shoes, and Sniper took a seat next to him, plonked a pair of bottles between them. Scout leaned over to bump their shoulders together, grinning at him, and Sniper smiled too, started drinking his own.

Out clear on the horizon line, most of the clouds hadn’t quite blown far enough to obscure the sun. It would be setting soon, and then Scout would be off to eat with the rest of the team and Sniper would get to his own routine. It was a nice night, though.

Finally Scout flicked the knife closed, tucked it into his pocket best he could, reached for the bottle still sitting next to him, popped it and started drinking before it could foam over (he didn’t know how it always did that, he just had awful luck, apparently).

Sniper finished his own drink before Scout could get very far into his own. Stared out across the desert.

“You good?” Scout finally asked, picking idly at the label. “You seem, uh... I dunno. Sad, maybe. One’a those?”

“No, er... just...” Sniper tried, cleared his throat. Now Scout’s eyebrows were raised. “Nervous, is all.”

“Oh, one’a those,” Scout said, and frowned when Sniper shook his head again, drawing a hand down his face, taking a deep breath. “Is... is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Sniper nodded, took another deep breath. “Yeah. Just...”

He paused for a long few moments. Reached to fish through the pocket of his vest, held his closed fist out to Scout. Scout freed up a hand to hold a hand out, palm-up, still frowning, and pulled it back to look at the item Sniper had dropped in his palm.

Blinked. Blinked. Sniper gulped, wishing he had a drink still, something to help with how dry his mouth had gone all of a sudden, watching Scout’s expression carefully.

“Oh,” Scout whispered. Barked a laugh, like shock more than humor, the volume abrupt. “Oh.”

Sniper gulped hard again, looked away, looked back. Scout’s expression didn’t change in the time he wasn’t watching it. “You seem, er... surprised,” Sniper said carefully.

“Well, yeah, duh, yeah, I didn’t—“ Scout said all in a stumbling rush, and took a breath, and seemed to hold it. His eyes hadn’t moved from the ring since he first saw it. He blinked a few times, barked that laugh again. “I didn’t think you’d want...”

“I do,” Sniper said, voice tight, and Scout looked up at him for the first time in a while, and his eyes widened in even more surprise.

“Oh, shit,” he said quickly, seeming to finally register the nervousness, the fear, the worry, and he surged forward, hands on Sniper’s shoulders, one wrapped in half a fist around the ring. “I, yeah, yes, I, yes to the—yes! I’m—“

And then he kissed Sniper, hard, almost bruising, and it didn’t get particularly far before it was broken by another huff of air against Sniper’s lips, and when he pulled back Scout’s grin was a little weak.

“Just never thought you’d ask me, not in a million years,” he admitted.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cry,” Sniper teased, entire body awash with a sense of relief.

“Oh, fuck off, you’re the one with the watery eyes here,” Scout scoffed, and kissed him again.

And they both made sure to note that they knew there were more conversations to be had, but those could wait until both of them had a clearer head again, which took damn near a week and a half, both so much more giddy than they’d expected to be, then another week when Sniper next saw the ring, hung on a little chain usually tucked beneath Scout’s shirt, worn around his neck apparently since the day he got it.

He liked the word fiancée more than he’d expected to, and he’d expected to like it a lot, and even then, Scout seemed to like it even more.

And Scout admitted half his surprise up front had been because he himself had no real idea how this was going to work, it was just that the idea of being married made him really really happy. He liked weddings, loved weddings, loved the idea of... of settling into something. That really, marriage was the only kind of settling down that he’d ever liked the idea of. And even if it was just... just something quiet, just the two of them, that was fine by him.

And Sniper had nodded, and there had been a pause, but then suddenly Scout spoke up again with a ‘but, I mean, my Ma is always going on about wanting to see me get married, so I kinda have to invite her to whatever we do’.

That was a good start for the plans they had. No particular pressure on it, really, considering they decided not to tell anyone at first. Sniper started trying to figure out where might be a good place to hold... something, maybe not a whole ceremony, but something. Scout started trying to figure out where to get a suit, and where Sniper could get his own tailored, but they weren’t in a rush, and a few months passed without making much progress at all, nothing even feeling like it had changed except that now Sniper would catch Scout fidgeting with the chain he kept the ring on and grinning.

The first real change came when someone else noticed too.

Pyro, stood in-between matches and pointing at the chain around Scout’s neck as he switched into a less charred shirt and mumbling a question, made Scout stammer. Scout stammering made most of the team turn to look. Then more of them saw the chain there, saw the ring there, and some of the more perceptive ones pieced together a few things rather quickly. It was Demo who first said something, outright asking ‘is that an engagement ring?’.

A beat of silence where all were frozen, then the voice over the intercom rang out telling them they had ten seconds until battle, and Scout was off like a shot towards the gate.

In his absence, eyes turned to Sniper instead, who proved to be even less helpful in that he stuttered his way through all ten of those seconds and the team had no choice but to follow Scout’s lead and leave it for later.

Sniper was hoping that he’d be able to escape the team’s questions after battle if he could make it through the Resupply room before everyone else did. But he realized very quickly that would also mean throwing Scout to the proverbial wolves, and besides that, he couldn’t run from this forever. So instead he kicked around the Resupply for a few minutes waiting for the team to come back from chasing down the other team in the humiliation round, and wasn’t entirely surprised when Scout was one of the first back, expression tight with nerves up until the exact moment that Demo and Soldier came wandering in, elbowing at each other and chatting at well above speaking volume.

Neither of them, apparently, had much to say, besides Demo clapping Sniper hard on the shoulder and proclaiming that it took them long enough, and Soldier brushing off their ‘fraternizing nonsense’ in favor of continuing his argument with Demo. Pyro was in the room next, talking and gesturing enthusiastically, and while Scout was trying to translate to Sniper the Engineer came in and shoo’d Pyro along, telling them to mind their business, albiet with what Sniper would almost refer to as a proud smile aimed in Scout’s direction. Medic and Heavy were in the room next, and all that Heavy seemed to be confused about was the legality surrounding marriage between anyone besides a man and a woman in the United States, with Medic attempting to explain but also largely clueless to the actual logistics of the thing. Spy only stuck around long enough to quip that it was a little ridiculous for any of them to worry about legality of all things, which Sniper wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret.

Demo, across the room, in the middle of trying to unstick his jacket from himself with all the mud coating one side of it, quipped that he’d better be invited, and asked what he had to do to get the best man position. From there, a series of what Sniper interpreted as mostly jokes followed, the team chiming in about their attendance, including a number of them laughing that they weren’t exactly allowed in any churches and Pyro insisting that they wanted to be the one throwing the flowers (and no they would not in fact set any on fire) and Heavy saying that if they couldn’t find a good glass to stomp on then Medic had plenty of spare beakers that he wasn’t using for anything, much to the doctor’s protest.

This became the team running joke for a while, was everyone constantly bringing up the wedding. When Spy stomped into the room fuming because of another perfectly good shirt ruined by the base’s washing machine, the Engineer quipped that oh no, what would he wear to the wedding now? When Soldier got into an argument with Pyro, Demo referred to it as a spat between groomsmen. When Sniper was acting particularly cranky one day (not his fault, the base’s coffee machine was awful and they really needed to replace it one of these days), Spy muttered into his tea that it was a shame Scout had to put up with such a bridezilla, a joke Medic chortled about well into the afternoon.

It might have gotten out of hand around the time that poor Pauling had to hear about it, just trying her best to oversee delivering a set of brand new weapons and explaining their assorted bells and whistles, accosted through her entire explanation by jokes that this was a bit extravagant for a wedding gift, that hopefully she’d at least get time off to attend the reception, that competition for maid of honor wasn’t exactly steep but she’d probably be winning anyways, until finally she snapped that if Sniper and Scout were actually going to get married then they needed to note that on their upcoming contract renewals but to otherwise stop talking to her about it so damn much.

This, Scout said, is when he started feeling bad for not talking to his Ma about it yet. Miss Pauling knowing he was getting married before his own mother felt wrong, he said, and so he spent the afternoon steeling himself to make the phone call.

From the combination of relief and vague dismay on Scout’s face when he came back, Sniper could tell something was up, and it was with a number of pauses in the middle of speaking that Scout explained that he’d barely gotten through the news before Ma had started calling over various brothers to tell them the news too, each taking a turn on the phone to get halfway through some kind of third degree that they needed to pass along to Sniper before actually congratulating him, each asking when they’d need to get down there for the wedding in turn. Apparently he’d accidentally called when some of his brothers were over for dinner, and so he explained to Sniper that word was as good as out, because as much as he loved his brothers, not a single one of them could keep their mouths shut to each other.

And so they both sat down with a calendar and had to pick an actual date for a wedding.

Altogether, the date they picked was a little over a year since Sniper proposed, which felt appropriate, and only a few months from then, just long enough for Scout’s brothers to get time off of work. They decided against a whole entire proper ceremony with a priest and vows and all, mostly because legality being an issue, they didn’t have much a reason to stick to tradition. A few things would end up sticking, though. They’d have seating, because Sniper’s mum wasn’t up for standing around for long periods of time anymore and one of Scout’s brothers had that bad leg and cane from his time in the army. They’d dress up for it, because Scout was truly looking forward to that part, to looking nice on the actual day. Vows weren’t necessarily going to be on-script, but they’d both take a moment to say something to each other, and there would be a kiss, and then they’d have a bit of time set aside for if either of their families brought up any traditions they truly wanted to do. And, of course, there’d be some kind of party afterwards, because they both knew that the team would make there be a party afterwards either way.

What they didn’t expect was how quickly the team jumped to help as soon as they mentioned they’d set an actual date in stone to some degree. The Engineer was quick to offer to help with setting up chairs and tables, carting things around if they needed it, having a truck and all. Soldier was happy to offer suggestions for if they wanted catering, having eaten at and subsequently been banned from every eatery in the county, and Pyro started baking at an until then unprecedented clip as they tried to find the exact right recipe for a good wedding cake because they had to have a wedding cake and it had to be perfect. Heavy, to his credit, pointed out a few logistical issues with having the wedding, namely that it couldn’t be anywhere on the base and that they weren’t allowed in the town of Teufort, and Demo was so kind as to offer up his own house and property, given that it had so much space and he knew his mother wouldn’t mind it and besides that, it was a very pretty place.

And then Spy found in the mail the magazines Sniper was looking through when trying to pick out something suit-adjacent, and he could tell Spy was gearing up to really lay into him about it before Sniper pointed out that Spy should really just stop snooping through other people’s mail, and by the next day he found a pair of order forms in his camper on the table, almost entirely filled out except for a few of the fields regarding things like the color of the suits and payment information.

And then he and Scout were trying on suits, and figuring out which hotels were close enough for Scout and Sniper’s families to stay in, and looking at flowers, and figuring out how many days they should schedule off of work and whether the team would be doing the same—

—and then it was the week before, and one night Sniper found himself standing in the camper with Scout, late at night, half-exhausted and stressed out and more terrified than he’d expected to be, arms tight around Scout’s waist. And Scout held on just as tight, and inhaled, and exhaled, shifting with that breath in Sniper’s grip. And Sniper found himself breathing out apologies, so quiet they didn’t quite catch against the grit in his voice, for causing such a fuss about all this, for things getting so out of hand. And Scout had laughed, had squeezed him tight in arms usually used for hurting people to instead give him so much comfort in that moment, and said that he wouldn’t want it any other way. Anything else and it wouldn’t exactly feel like them.

And the two days before the wedding stretched out infinitely, a mix of terror and impatience lacing his every move, and then the day of the wedding itself felt like it took no time at all.

The sun didn’t quite beat down upon them, a blessing even with them wearing simple vests as opposed to full suits, a scattering of cloud cover making the heat bearable and throwing the sunshine out away from them. And the grass around the DeGroot residence was slippery in the morning, slick under their shoes, and Sniper watched nervously across towards his mum and dad as his dad squinted suspiciously around at things and his mum patted him consolingly about only god knew what. And one of Scout’s brothers had brought a camera and was dashing around taking pictures, and most of the team had managed to dig up assorted formal wear, and the Engineer bustled trying to make sure everything was set up just right as Soldier helped Pyro with carrying the frankly ludicrous cake towards the table somewhere. And on one side was Scout’s family, all rowdy, and on the other was the team, even rowdier, his parents squashed between and being vaguely protected from the team by the more generally responsible ones (namely Heavy, who Sniper’s father clearly approved of in some way for being so imposing, and Spy, who Sniper’s mother approved of on the basis of him being entirely polite). And Miss Pauling was there much to Sniper’s surprise, claiming that she was meant to oversee off-base activities (although he suspected she just wanted the time off and was glad to watch the final nail go into the coffin of Scout’s long-gone infatuation with her). And Medic was so kind as to let Sniper know the other team had left a present at the base for them that morning—assuring him, at his alarmed look, that it was merely a prank dummy bomb set to tick as loudly as possible within the packaging, and a note thanking them for the free time off. That was as much a relief as the cloud cover.

And then the ceremony itself happened, so long before Sniper was ready, as if he could ever truly be ready. And he’d seen Scout’s vest already, but not worn, not standing across from him with a glitter in his eyes and a watery smile and hands fidgeting nervously with grip tape that wasn’t there, face red. And Sniper’s hands were sweaty and clammy, and his voice cracked from the very first word of what he had been rehearsing in his head over and over since he proposed, but the way Scout’s expression shone with pride and love had made so much of that nervousness disappear, and he couldn’t find it in him to be nervous, to worry about the team.

He didn’t have it written down, felt that note cards would make this feel stiff, and he wasn’t all that good at writing down his thoughts regardless. But Scout was sniffling by the end of it, and his own voice had gone rough as he just barely kept it together, so he at least knew he was doing something right.  And Scout didn’t have anything written down either, and when his turn to speak came, there were a few long moments where Sniper worried he’d blanked, forgotten what he wanted to say. But Scout got there, voice surprisingly steady, surprisingly level. And he didn’t remember all of it, but he remembered some in the middle.

“I still can’t believe you love me, that you wanna stay with me for as long as we can, that you trust me and care about me,” Scout said, “but I’m gonna try, I’m gonna try so hard, and I’m gonna do whatever I gotta do to make sure you know I love you too, every single day, and to earn it. I promise. That’s what this is, is me promising. I promise.”  And that’s when Sniper broke, the first tears falling, needing to wipe at his face gingerly with his sleeve and accompanied by a general ‘aww’ and chuckles from the crowd of loved ones gathered there, and Scout smiled all the wider.

And Sniper did end up stomping on a glass (not one of Medic’s beakers), and both of them were all but showered in assorted confetti by the family they’d somehow gathered over the years, and there was eating, and dancing, and drinking, and dancing, and by the time the sun started to set down beyond the horizon line he found himself stood there with Scout in the middle of it all, kissing him over, and over, and over again, each and every one a promise that he very much intended to keep, come what may.

“I love you,” he said, again, again, and Scout never once stopped smiling.

#sniperscout #speeding bullet #tf2 #team fortress 2 #que?#shut up me #everybody talks #my fanfiction #its just pretty gay overall fellas

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kaimelia · 3 years

Text

enough for you (ch 7)

———————————

"How was he?"

"He was fine, we went to the park yesterday, and he scraped his knee, but it's all cleaned up now." Amelia took Scout from him, kissing the side of her son's head. "I went out and bought another car seat. We should've done it a while ago anyway; we just only used one car during the pandemic," he muttered, taking one of the car seats out. "Anyway. I'll put this one in your car."

"Thank you," she whispered, watching as he walked over to the other car in the driveway. "So, do you want to come and get him on Monday? And then, drop him off on Thursday, so we can start doing the three-two-two?" Link sighed.

"Amelia, I don't want to do this." She raised her eyebrows. "I don't want to be switching Scout back and forth and only talking to each other in the five minutes it takes me to switch the car seat," he muttered, setting the diaper bag down on the pavement. "You could come back home. You can have the bedroom, I'll sleep in the guest room while we figure things out, and we can work it out together without acting like we're divorced parents." Amelia glanced down at the pavement, flinching as Scout poked at her cheek and giggled.

"Link, I'm not ready. I need time to figure things out and get myself in a better place." She set Scout down on the ground, grabbing his hand to make sure he didn't run away from her.

"How much time? Because I don't want this to turn into something that we can't fix because we ignored it for so long, Amelia, I want to fix this."

"I can't give you a timeline on how long it's going to take me to feel okay again because I don't know." Amelia looked up to see his shoulders slump slightly, and she sighed. "He's getting restless," she motioned down to Scout, who was bouncing up and down in place, "I'm gonna get him settled inside; Ellis was wanting to show him her new bike," Amelia muttered.

"Should I stay or go?"

"Stay. I want to explain something without him stepping on my toes." Link watched as she brought Scout inside, the boy's steps eager and clumsy as they walked onto the porch and into the house, his cousins happily greeting him in the doorway. Amelia turned around and headed back towards Link. She returned to her place across from him, her stance tense and her hands moving nervously.

"Do you wanna sit down?" He asked, seeing as her hands were shaking slightly. Amelia nodded gratefully and lead him towards the steps of the porch. She sighed.

"I told you about the therapist I started seeing, right? Well, uh, she thinks I have some form of postpartum depression. And, it just went untreated for a really long time with the pandemic and everything, so I never actually dealt with what I was feeling until it all got to be too much, and all of that makes it harder to stay sober." Link's eyes widened.

"Are you-"

"Yeah, I'm sober, I mean, barely at this point," she laughed nervously and squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm going to meetings every day and seeing my therapist way more than I probably need to, but I think it's helping? And having the diagnosis gives me some peace of mind because now I know what's wrong, and we can do something about it." He clasped his hands together and nodded slowly, staring straight ahead.

"So, what, you're taking antidepressants?"

"No, I don't want to take any medication, I mean, I know the meds are non-addictive, but I don't think downing some pills every day is the best choice when I'm trying to stay sober. Just therapy right now, although my therapist did mention something about sound baths which brought back some memories." She cracked a smile and looked over to see him shaking his head in amusement as a slight grin played on his face. "Uh, but I know this doesn't absolve everything that happened, but it's what's going on." On instinct, Link reached over and grabbed her hand, stopping her from picking at her nails. She looked at his hand over hers, looking up to make eye contact with him after.

"Sorry," he muttered, pulling his hand back. "Habit, I guess." He shook his head. "Thank you for telling me."

"Yeah," she whispered, clasping her hands together in her lap and exhaling. "I think it's best for me to stay with Mer for a little longer. I know you don't want to keep switching Scout back and forth, but I need to be somewhere stable right now, and staying here is that." He pursed his lips into a tight line. "You're upset."

"No, it's just, I don't want Scout to grow up like I did. I know he's not aware of what's happening now, and he won't remember it when he's older, but having to switch back and forth between my parents every other week and everything that came along with that, it was terrible. I don't want that for him. And, I'm worried that the longer we put things off, the worse it'll get until we can't fix it."

"Scout's never going to grow up like you did. I mean, we're still able to be civil with each other now. I think we're both a little too conscious of screwing him up that we'll stop it from happening."

"Yeah," he laughed softly, looking over at her. Her face was softer than before, and even though the bags under her eyes were just as present as the last time they met, the corners of her lips were turned up into the smallest smile, which brought him some relief. "So, I'll see you on Monday?"

"Yeah, Monday," she pushed herself off the porch steps, straightening out her sweater and brushing a hand through her hair. She followed him to his car, her arms crossed over her chest as they walked in silence. "Thank you for listening." He smiled gently and opened the car door.

"Of course. And if there's anything I can do, drive you to a sound bath or stick some needles in you and call it acupuncture, let me know." Matching grins spread across both of their faces, and Amelia breathed out a laugh.

"I will let you know." He closed the car door, glancing over at her one last time and offering a small wave. She waved back and smiled, watching as he pulled out of the driveway and left her standing there with a grin on her face.

#amelink #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #amelink fanfiction #grey's anatomy #amelink fanfic #greys abc #greys fanfic #scout lincoln #scout shepherd lincoln #my fics

37 notes · View notes

problematicfavesareproblematic · 3 years

Text

What We Want and What We Can Have

Part Two- My Love, Don’t Fade Away

WHOOPS IT’S A PART TWO THAT NO ONE ASKED FOR (part one lives hither)!

Warnings: cannon-typical violence, angst, unresolved tension encroaching resolution, more of Ron and his big beautiful brain, Ron has like three feelings and you take up two of them, non-edited nonsense bc feelings don’t wait for approval

I listened to Reminder by Mumford and Sons as well as I Don’t Feel It Anymore by William Fitzsimmons. Let me know if any of you crazy kids are interested in my BoB heavy-feels writing playlist bc ya know i’ve got one.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The grey smoke from the burning church stung your eyes, and as you feel your tears trickle down your cheeks you wonder if they are soot-stained as well.

Around you, you can hear the screams of bombs whistling through the air- the harmonizing shrieks of the wounded and dying ringing in your ears as you watch Gene running towards the smoldering building, but you can’t seem to do anything other than watch. You know you need to do something, anything to help the medic save the handful of people bursting through the smoke like ashen fireworks.

Yet all you seem capable of doing is dumbly stare at the ruins of the makeshift hospital you’d just watched explode.

The makeshift hospital you had been tasked to watch over.

For weeks, you’d been monitoring intel reports for any sign that the Luftwaffe had been intending to bomb the town of Bastogne. Weeks of pouring over intercepted and forwarded information and maps and citizen chatter that you’d been so sure indicated that the town was safe from harm, that the air attacks would be solely focused on the woods.

Yet here you were, standing in the heart of a bomb-pocked town with ice in your veins and a terrible hollow in your heart.

You’d failed. You couldn’t have been more spectacularly wrong.

The irony of your mistake ending in fire was not lost on you, and as your eyes danced up with the flames and plumes of smoke you were filled with the same helpless feeling that had found you after learning of the fate of your mother, sister, and brother-in-law all those months ago. Only this time, you had no one to blame but yourself.

You had done this. You’d missed something and now all of those wounded soldiers and brave nurses and innocent people were dead and trapped.

When Gene grabs your shoulders you nearly jump out of your skin, blinking for the first time in what felt like hours and forcing yourself to focus on the drawn face of your friend. Something in his eyes gives you the impression that he’s been trying to get your attention for a long time.

“Y/N!” he shouts, using his grip on you to pull you back towards the jeep. “We have to go, we’ve gotta go back—”

“I-I should stay,” you stammer, limbs feeling like lead as you stumble along stiffly. “I don’t think…”

Gene, ignoring your quiet mumbling, all but shoves you into the car and takes your previous seat as driver.

Eyes having drifted back to the smoldering church, you try again to get your fumbling mouth to work enough to speak.

“Gene, I think—”

“You’re not staying here, Y/N.”

The way he says it leaves no room for argument.

“Bet you don’t even realize that your face is bleeding like a stuck pig….”

When you raise your hand to touch your cheek you feel that he’s right, you are bleeding- most likely from the initial blast of debris that had hit you when the bomb hit.

As Gene whips the jeep around to take off down the road, you feel the cool wind sting at your eyes, the air so drastically different from the smoke you’d just been breathing that it makes you lightheaded.

“I killed them,” you murmur, despite the fact that you know Gene can’t hear you. “I killed them.”

Gene is crying when you look over at him but you can’t find it in you to offer him any comfort. What would the point be? What could you possibly say when everything you’d just witnessed was a direct consequence of something you’d missed?

Ron was wrong, you think to yourself as you look back to the rapidly approaching forest. It is better to feel nothing. I want to feel nothing.

Almost as if all you had to do was think about it- a strange calm settles bitterly in your chest, joining the hollow that had been deepening each day since you’d seen Blithe get shot through the throat.

Just as you’d wished, you slipped into the numbness of nothing.

Ron was worried about you.

No, he was more than worried. He was concerned...deeply concerned.

He had been for a while now- ever since you’d come back from a scouting mission with Blithe’s blood on your hands and a grim look of defeat marring your pretty face. He’d tried to talk to you about it, going as far as to pull you aside and wash the blood from your hands in hopes of getting you to open up privately- ignoring the confused looks of your superiors and his colleagues as he did so.

You had been, were worth any rumors that could come from his intentionally infrequent sign of humanity.

But you’d given him nothing more than a weak smile and whisper of thanks before slipping away to find Nixon. It was like that moment in the attic had never happened.

Seeing you come back from the town of Bastogne had shocked him, too. Not as much in terms of the blood pouring from the cut on your cheek, but in the absolutely dead look in your eyes he’d found when he had begun questioning you as to what had happened.

“I was wrong,” you’d said emotionlessly, barely flinching when Spina had brought an alcohol-drenched rag to your wound. “I missed something, and now the town is gone.”

Before he could even begin to think of a reply, Spina had asked him to help get you to CP so the other officers could figure out the next course of action. And once he had, you’d had no more to say.

That night, Ron had poured over the information you’d been given concerning Bastogne, glaring at Nixon until the other man had relented and reluctantly given him the small wooden box you kept your reports in. You hadn’t ‘missed’ anything- there had been nothing to indicate any sort of attack to the town for you to miss. You had done nothing wrong.

Not that he’d be able to convince you of that. Ron knew you well enough by now to know that your stubbornness could rival his own if you indulge yourself in it enough. He’d learned that long ago in Georgia upon meeting you, that you had not gotten here by accident or through any sort of familial connection- but rather by sheer determination and steadfastness and unapologetic bullheadedness, not to mention a natural gift for finding patterns in behaviors and translating them into strategy.

Watching you work, then and now, had been nothing short of marvelous.

But this wasn’t you. This heartbroken husk of you that he had been seeing now made his already frozen body feel even colder.

Ron needed you back.

Unbeknownst to you (and initially to him as well), you’d become the reason he fought. At first, it had been a more practical explanation: you worked tirelessly to secure the information needed to build strategies and he felt the need to reward that hard work with his own successful execution of the plans you’d made. Then, upon completing the task, you would come in and use any of the information you found to build the next strategy. It had been transactional, an exchange of services that helped the both of you work towards the mutual goal of winning the war.

It was simple.

There was no real event to precede his shift in perspective. One day you’d been Y/N and the next you were Y/N. He’d nearly said as much in the attic, when your eyes had burned him alive with their curious sincerity and your heart had called to him so sweetly he’d nearly kissed you.

Seeing you now, blinking slowly in the warm candlelight while the voices of the choir wrapped around everyone like a thick blanket, Ron wondered if he should’ve kissed you.

He wonders if, by doing so, he could’ve somehow stopped you from getting to this point.

You hadn’t been at the frontlines earlier that day for the siege of Foy, yet you looked just as drained as every other man in the company who had. Even with his heavy jacket wrapped around your shoulders, your fingers still trembled as you picked at the dirt beneath your nails, making him wonder if you were shaking from something else other than the cold.

You startle slightly as he reaches over and places his hand over yours, head quickly turning to look at him and the tiniest dust of pink coloring your cheeks when you realized how close your face was to his. Almost as if you’d forgotten that he was sitting beside you in the pew, that only an hour ago he’d forced you to accept his coat while he scribbled out the names of the men now under his command onto some paper he’d asked one of the sisters for earlier. He hadn’t bothered writing your name- you were not like all of the others, you weren’t something to oversee and keep in order.

And as far as Ron was concerned, you’d been connected to him since D-Day.

He didn’t need a note to remember that.

A shy, small smile turns your lips up at the corners- the action not seeming to quite reach your eyes but Ron felt the sincerity in it all the same. Flickering your gaze back down to his hand resting over yours, he watches as you hook your thumb over his small finger, pleased at the warmth he feels as you momentarily play with the silver ring he always wore there. Watching your profile, he only takes his hand away when you return your attention to the young girls in front of the altar, allowing his gaze to linger on you for a few moments before turning back to his list.

Feeling another set of eyes on him, he looks up and catches Lipton looking over his shoulder at the exchange. The other man quickly turns back upon being caught, and Ron studies the back of the other man’s head for a few moments before making up his mind.

“Y/N,” Ron says quietly, tilting his head towards the door of the church once your eyes find his again, standing and rolling his sore shoulder. “C’mon, I’ll drop you off at your billet on my way to Battalion.”

The offer seemed to surprise Lipton, but you take a deep breath and nod shortly.

“Alright,” you say softly, “let me go return Luz’s lighter and I’ll meet you at the door?”

As he nods, you stand up carefully and side-step in front of Ron out of the pew, meeting Lipton’s smile with a weak one of your own as you give the man’s shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Night, Car.”

Lipton pats her hand affectionately and then you’re striding over to the pews where Luz, Liebgott, Randleman, and Heffron have set up camp.

Ron watches you go as he loads his gear back on, once again feeling Lipton staring at him. There’s a familiarity in the way Lipton is looking at him- it’s a look everyone seems to send his way, ever since Donald Malarkey started the rumor on D-Day.

“You wanna ask me, don’t you?” Ron asks, watching the other man fidget.

“Ask you what, sir?”

“You wanna know if they’re true or not,” he clarifies, sizing the other man up. “The stories about me?”

Lip said nothing, and when Ron looked over his shoulder at the man he saw that Lip was looking away. The man amused him, to say the least. The man’s bravery was starting to show in ways that filled Ron with every confidence in him- glad to have a Lieutenant with a backbone in his newly appointed Company.

“Ever notice with stories like that, everyone says they hear it from someone who was there, and then when you ask that person they say they heard it from someone who was there?” Ron steps from the pew to stand before Lipton.

“There’s nothing to ‘em, really. I bet if you went back 2000 years you’d hear a couple Centurions standing around yacking about how Tertius lopped off the heads of some Carthaginian prisoners.”

Lipton seemed to consider that for a moment before replying.

“Well, maybe they kept talking about it because they never heard Tertius deny it.”

Slinging his gun over his shoulder, Ron lets a smirk show on his face and squares his shoulders. “Well, maybe that’s because Tertius knew there was some value in the men thinking he was the meanest, toughest son of a bitch in the whole Roman Legion.”

When Ron looks over to where you are, he is glad to see that some of the tension in your posture has lessened. He can hear you mumble something that amuses Luz and Bull to no end, unable to help but feel a tinge of sadness at the fact that you’ve still got that hollow look in your eyes.

“If I may speak freely, Sir?” Lipton says, breaking Ron from his trance and allowing him to look back to the other man. When he nods, the new Lieutenant dips his head indicatively in your direction.

“I’m worried about her….a lot of us are, Sir.”

Ron keeps his expression neutral, nodding at the comment.

“Is there a question in there, Lipton?”

A grimace crosses Lip’s face as he seems to ponder his words carefully.

“No, Sir. It’s more of an observation, if anything.”

“Go ahead.”

“I know that, technically, Captain Nixon is meant to be her immediate supervisor,” Lipton says with a bit more confidence. “But I worry that he’s been, er….neglecting some of his responsibilities in favor of more cathartic activities….”

He cuts himself off, looking from side to side quickly before lowering his voice.

“Captain Nixon has been passing the brunt of the analysis work to Captain Y/L/N, if not ignoring it entirely. And, as great an officer as Y/N is, Sir—”

“I understand, Lieutenant,” Ron interrupts Lipton just shy of insubordination, giving the confused man a nod before realizing that he’s unintentionally called the other man by his new title. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention. You were right to do so.”

After informing Lipton of his promotion, Ron quickly turns on his heel and makes eye contact with you once more. As you fall in to step with him through the doorway of the church, Ron processes the new information he’s been given.

While he’d never really liked Lewis Nixon, this revelation has only solidified his stance on the man. It was one thing to drink on the job and still be productive- whatever arrangement this was was unacceptable.

Your hand is soft in his as he takes it, the fumble in your stride telling him that you hadn’t been expecting him to do so. But you still don’t let go, you still follow him past Battalion and you offer no resistance when he guides you inside of the small cottage you’d been assigned to.

When Ron gently takes your face in his hands, your eyes flicker down to his mouth before he even begins to speak.

“Do you remember what you asked me in the attic, a few months ago? About what I cared about?”

You nod slowly, and as your gaze meets his he could swear that you’re about to burn him to ask once more. You seem to lean into his touch, and while there is still caution in your eyes he thinks he may also see a flicker of intrigue in your irises as well.

“Things you can’t have. Things you shouldn’t care about.”

You say it as if you didn’t need to think about it very hard to remember- something that makes his heart stutter in his chest.

“You, you know that I was talking about you.”

Then, you do something that Ron will never forget.

You smile.

And this time, it reaches your eyes.

~ ~ ~ (*looks over at all the homework/chores I’ve neglected in favor of writing this* WHOOPS

BUT FOR REAL HERE WE BE AGAIN. HOPE I DIDN’T DEPRESS Y’ALL TOO MUCH BC I KEEP DOING THAT WITHOUT INTENDING TO OK LOVE YOU BYE )

taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @liebgotttme

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #ron speirs imagines #ronald speirs x reader #problematicfavesareproblematic

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Nine)

Summary: (Y/N) and Jack pay a visit to Officer Henry Zhang of the L.A.P.D. and after they’re nearly caught by Chief Sousa, tensions begin to rise.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Nine Los Angeles, California (Previous Chapter)

“Ooo turn it up, this is one of my favorites! Oh, Johnny, oh Johnny, how you can love! Oh Johnny, oh Johnny, Heaven’s above…!”

“Ah, geez, not again…”

“You make my sad heart jump with joy, and when you’re near I just can’t sit still a minute…!”

“You know you’re crazy, right?”

“I’m so, oh, Johnny, oh Johnny, please tell me dear, what makes me love you so?”

“Yep, definitely crazy.”

“You’re not handsome, it’s true but when I look at you I just, oh, Johnny, oh Johnny, oh…!” With a bright smile on her face, (Y/N) began humming along to the lively tune and tapping her fingers on her steering wheel; her smile only widened when she glanced over and caught the exasperated look on Jack’s face. “What? I love the Andrews Sisters!”

Jack rubbed his face tiredly, but (Y/N) could see that he was having a difficult time repressing his grin. “I know, you sing along to every single one of their songs whenever they come on the radio. Seriously, I’m gonna have to call up every radio network in the city and get ‘em to stop playing the Andrews Sisters just so I can get at least a little break from the gals!”

Rolling her eyes at his dramatics, (Y/N) returned her gaze to the road. “Well, you don’t have a car and since you refuse to borrow one of Howard’s, it looks like you’re stuck riding with me, my music and my singing. In other words, you’d better get used it, Flyboy.”

For the duration of the car ride, they continued to debate about their favorite and least favorite singers and groups; they reached the police precinct before anymore Andrews Sisters songs could play, much to (Y/N)’s disappointment and Jack’s elation. They had arranged to meet Officer Henry Zhang to discuss the result of the L.A.P.D.’s search of Fieldman Family Orangery; since they had no probable cause to search the orangery, Officer Zhang had suggested they phone-in an anonymous tip about a suspected breach in fire safety protocol. That way, the L.A.P.D. – but more importantly, Officer Zhang – would be free to search the premises for any sign of the strange devices meant for shipment. Fingers crossed that the whole thing wasn’t a bust, (Y/N) thought to herself as she parked and switched off the engine before getting out of the car.

“You know, Specs, you’re a pretty decent singer, even if you only ever sing the Andrews Sisters.” Jack remarked on their way up the steps that led to the precinct; (Y/N) snorted in amusement and he raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that you’re the first person to actually compliment – well, half compliment – my singing; when I first began working with the Howling Commandos, Dum Dum Dugan used to say that my ‘goddamn caterwauling’ could deafen the entire German army if properly weaponized. As I recall, the other guys got a good laugh out of that one.”

Jack scoffed. “Dugan’s hearing must’ve been damaged from all those ‘Wa-Hoo’s’ he shouted in the war.” She laughed loudly at that; the large man’s deafening war cry was definitely an acquired taste, so much so that during her first couple of months with the Howlies, she used to stuff small pieces of wax into her ears whenever she went on missions with them. They reached the doors of the precinct and Jack was quick to hold the door open for her. “And for your information, that was a full complement I just gave you. You’ve got a really nice singing voice, Specs.”

His unexpectedly kind words combined with his trademark lopsided grin caused (Y/N)’s heart to jolt in her chest and try as she might, it was impossible to keep the growing smile off her face as they entered the building. Once they had checked in with the officer stationed at the front desk they made their way downstairs to Officer Zhang’s brand-new office, which turned out to be the building’s boiler room but with a small desk crammed into the corner.

“Sorry it’s such a tight squeeze in here, this was the only empty room the precinct had.” Henry winced as Jack bumped his elbow hard against the boiler and (Y/N) removed her hat to prevent it from being crushed against the pipes beside her head. The young officer’s frown quickly shifted into an excitement-filled smile. “But I’m the youngest officer to ever get their own office in this precinct, so that’s a plus! Did you guys want anythin’ to eat or drink? I think I’ve got-”

“We’re good, Zhang, but thanks for the offer.” Jack abruptly interrupted as he eyed the boiler beside him that had just made an ominous noise.

(Y/N) smiled patiently at Henry while surreptitiously elbowing Jack in the ribs for his rudeness. “How did everything go yesterday at the orangery? Did you find any evidence that the business is a front for weapons manufacturing?”

Henry shook his head, reaching over his desk and handing her a file; after pausing a moment to slip on her reading glasses, she opened it and began scanning its contents with Jack peering over her shoulder. “You were right, it looked like they packed up shop after your run-in with ‘em last week. I took a few photographs of the place for you guys to look over, though; since you saw it before, you might be able to spot somethin’ I didn’t.”

“The stunt we pulled must’ve really shaken ‘em if they went through all the trouble to pack up and relocate their entire operation.” Jack let out a frustrated sigh. “I hate it when criminals think fast. Any sign of Adam Fieldman?”

“Nope, his old man said he left town on business the other night but couldn’t say where; since you told me to be discrete I didn’t press him for details but he sounded like he was tellin’ the truth.” He gestured to the file (Y/N) was still examining. “I also included anything the L.A.P.D. has on Fieldman’s background, but it’s not much. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more to help you guys…”

Hearing the normally boisterous officer sound so downtrodden caused (Y/N)’s heart to lurch; despite how cramped the room was, she managed to reach a hand out to clasp one of his. “You’ve done a great job, Officer Zhang, we couldn’t have asked for anyone better to help us out.” She elbowed Jack again as she gave Henry an encouraging smile. “Isn’t that right, Chief Thompson?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah, you’ve really helped us out, kid.”

Henry’s face reddened at their praise, and (Y/N) had to stifle a giggle as he leisurely leaned back in his chair in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “Well, if you two ever need anythin’ else you know where to find me.”

They bid the young officer goodbye and as they left the precinct, Jack tilted his fedora on his head and grumbled, “I think that elbow of yours might’ve punctured a kidney.”

“A miraculous feat, considering your kidneys are near your backbone and not your hip.” (Y/N) jokingly retorted, carefully pinning her hat back onto her hair and tucking her reading glasses into her purse as they walked back down the steps to the sidewalk. “Henry didn’t give us much but it’s a lot more than what we had before; that counts as a win in my books.”

Jack shrugged. “I guess so, but have you noticed that our secret investigation isn’t much of a secret anymore? I mean, Stark knows about it, the Jarvises know about it and now this kid’s in on it; who’s next, Samberly? I-son of a bitch!”

Without warning, Jack ripped the file from her hand and disappeared around the corner of the building; before she could move or speak, she heard a familiar voice calling her name and she turned to see Daniel Sousa limping towards her. Her heart hammering in her chest, (Y/N) raised a hand in greeting and silently prayed that he hadn’t seen Jack with her. “Hey there, Chief Sousa! Are you enjoying your lunch break?”

“Not exactly, I had to finish up some paperwork on a joint case and deliver it to this precinct’s Captain.” Daniel gestured to the building with the hand holding his briefcase. “I thought I recognized your car when I pulled up. What’re you doing in this part of town?”

She gave him a tight smile and tried her hardest to stop her hands from nervously fidgeting. “I just had lunch at the diner around the corner. If you’re looking for something to eat later, I’d definitely recommend the chicken noodle soup.”

“I’ll be sure to give it a try,” The chief’s grin faded a little as he examined the steps leading up to the precinct with obvious apprehension. “If I survive these steps, that is.”

“Well, um, would you like some help getting up?”

“So, Agent, you’re presuming that since I’m handicapped I automatically need help doing things?”

(Y/N) felt the color leave her face and all thoughts of concealing Jack’s presence flew out of her mind as she hastily replied, “O-of course not, Chief, I just-”

Her rambling was interrupted by Daniel’s chuckle. “Relax, (Y/L/N), I was only messing with you; I lost my leg during the war, not my sense of humor! And to answer your question, yes, a little help would be appreciated. I don’t have any trouble getting down steps with this thing, but going up? It’s a genuine pain in the ass.”

“Okay, then.” (Y/N) slipped her arm into the crook of Daniel’s before they began making their slow trek up the steps, the clicking of his metal crutch on the stone filling the silence. “Do you mind if I ask you-?”

“-How I lost it?” Daniel finished the question and she sheepishly nodded. “Well, I was a reconnaissance scout in the 28th Infantry and during the Siege of Bastogne, a few of us scouts were pinned down by enemy fire. I got hit in the leg by some shrapnel and by the time the others got me to a medic, there was no saving it.”

(Y/N) nodded again. “I’ve heard stories about that battle. You’re one of the lucky ones, you know.”

That made Daniel grin. “Oh, I know. Peggy never lets me forget it. Somedays it doesn’t feel like it – like when I have to navigate some tricky steps or when Thompson takes one too many jabs at my leg – but when I remember that everything that’s happened to me in the past has led me to her, well…it makes things a little bit easier.” They finally reached the top of the steps and (Y/N) released his arms once she was sure he was steady. “Thank you for the help, but do you think you can keep this under wraps for me? The last thing I want is Thompson to make some more cracks about us in the office…”

“Of course.” Although she had kept her gaze on Daniel the entire time, (Y/N) knew that Jack had seen and possibly heard everything that had transpired; good, she thought to herself, he deserves to hear exactly how his careless words can affect others. They’d forgiven one another for the things they’d said out of anger, true, but a small part of her was reluctant to forgive the hurtful jab that had only served to remind her of her traumatic past. “Well, I should start heading back to the office. I’ll see you later, Chief Sousa.”

She turned to head back down the steps but halted when Daniel called her name once again. When she turned back around, he had an awkward expression on his face. “I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to you alone since you re-joined the SSR but since you’re here now…Peggy told me a little about what you went through during the war and what happened to…well, I just wanted to offer you my condolences.”

“T-thank you, Chief.” (Y/N) gave him what she hoped had been a smile of gratitude before turning on her heel and hurrying back down the steps, ignoring the twinge of pain her quick movements brought the almost-healed wound beneath her skirt. By the time she reached the car, Jack had already gotten in and based on the clouded expression on his face, he’d heard everything they’d said on the steps. I can’t deal with this right now, she sighed inwardly but got into the driver’s seat with an overly-cheerful grin. “Ready to go, Flyboy?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, (Y/N) and Jack sat in the cozy living room of Stark’s mansion and worked on the case, Jack lounging on a sofa as he read through the files Henry had provided them and (Y/N) sitting cross-legged on the floor as she flicked through her translation journals. At the other end of the room were Edwin and Ana, entirely focused on their Benny Goodman radio program as they sat together on another sofa.

The familiar strains of music helped (Y/N) relax and after a while, she noticed that the tension between her and Jack seemed to have disappeared altogether. The silence during the ride back to the office and to Howard’s mansion had been incredibly awkward, and (Y/N) knew it had been because they both were thinking about her and Daniel’s exchange. I’m not going to discuss it unless he brings it up first, (Y/N) thought firmly as she pushed her reading glasses back up the bridge of her nose, we’ve only just moved past our differences and something that touchy might send us right back to square one.

“Another excellent program by Mr. Goodman!” Ana’s exclamation brought (Y/N) out of her silent rumination and she looked up from her work just as the couple stood and yawned. “Well, goodnight Miss (Y/L/N), Chief Thompson.”

“Yes, and try not to make too much noise; tomorrow is silver-polishing day.”

Jack mumbled distractedly, his eyes still trained on the files, so (Y/N) gave the tired couple a small wave. “Goodnight.” Once she heard the faint sound of their bedroom door being closed, she fell sideways with a small groan and rolled so that she was laying on her back. “I think I’m starting to hate codebreaking.”

She could hear Jack’s smirk in his voice as he replied, “I take it Michael’s got you stumped again?”

“…Maybe. I’m sure I’ll have better luck if I look at this tomorrow.” She rolled to her side and rested her head in her hand to look at him. “Have you had any luck with those files?”

“Not really, I think I’m in the same boat as you right now. I’ll give Agent Cabrera a ring tomorrow morning and see if he can’t dig up anything more on Fieldman in the New York files; it’s a long shot, but our office has a bigger collection of files than the West Coast SSR does so something might show up.” Snapping the file closed and tossing it onto the ground, he sat up on the couch and stretched out his arms. “You know, back in New York, Sousa and I would go out drinking if we ever got stuck on a case. We’d put the case out of our minds and relax so that when we took another crack at it, it would be with a fresh perspective.”

“As great as that sounds, Chief Sousa asked us to come in early tomorrow to help catalogue the records room; that means no drinking tonight, Flyboy.”

Jack let out a frustrated sigh. “Sousa’s turned into a real stick in the mud since moving out here.” They began silently putting loose papers back into their files and just as (Y/N) finished packing up her briefcase, Jack cleared his throat to get her attention. “I remember Carter mentioning the other week that you solve easy codes to relax and unwind so I was thinking…well, if you ever need a break from Michael’s codes, you could always teach me a little. About codebreaking, I mean.”

Taken aback by his words, (Y/N) turned to face him. “You want to learn about codebreaking? You, Lieutenant Junior Grade Thompson, want me to teach you about codes?”

“You don’t have to sound so goddamn surprised about it.” Before he turned away from her, (Y/N) caught a glimpse of the look of annoyance and hurt on his face, and she quickly realized she’d inadvertently touched a nerve with her teasing. “Just forget I said anything, okay?”

“Thompson, wait-”

“I said forget it.”

“But I didn’t-”

He whirled around to face her again and the next few sentences seemed to explode out of him. “You know, everyone thinks that I’m just this big dumb war hero, that all I’ll ever be is some fat-head bully with a Navy Cross, and I’m getting sick of it!

“Jack, I didn’t mean to-”

“They all think that I’m this guy that I never was! They expect me to act a certain way, to be a soldier always and forever without thinking about what I want!” Breathing hard through his clenched teeth, Jack’s eyes searched her face and after a moment, his tense shoulders sagged and his blue eyes lowered. “And…it’s getting harder and harder to live with the shit man I’ve become because of it.”

The tension in the air was thick as they both stood absolutely still, Jack staring intently at the carpeted ground and (Y/N) studied her clasped hands. Being confronted by his past words and actions earlier that day had obviously caused Jack to feel guilt, something that was also gnawing at (Y/N); since the moment she’d met him, she had a very specific and narrow idea of who he was that had been based entirely on her past experiences with men in power and the opinions of others, but now it was clear to see that she’d unfairly and prematurely misjudged the man before her. Along with the rest of the world, it seems, she thought to herself with a twinge of sadness and shame.

(Y/N) glanced up and, after a moment’s hesitation, reached forward and rested a gentle hand on Jack’s forearm. His gaze quickly rose to meet hers and an understanding seemed to pass between them as Jack’s eyes softened; (Y/N) didn’t realize she was softly smiling until she spoke. “We’ll start with the Caesar Shift code and go from there.” He gave her a nod and she moved away to grab her hat and briefcase, murmuring a quick farewell before turning to leave.

“Hey, Specs.” She turned to see a hint of Jack’s familiar grin light up his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t go easy on me, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Flyboy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Ten

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #daniel sousa #michael carter #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

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bangtann-bangdamn · 3 years

Text

Summary: Yoongi has a shot at playing professional basketball, but an accident on-court throws his future in the air and you have no idea how to comfort him.

Pairing: Yoongi x gender-neutral reader

Genre: Sports AU/Basketball AU, College AU, angst

Prompt: Character A gets emotional easily. Character B does not. A catches B crying alone and realizes that they never learned how to comfort B since they were usually the one getting comforted.

Word Count: 1.3k

Today was the day. Today, the basketball scouts were coming to watch Yoongi’s game. You knew he was going to be scouted. How could he not when he was voted MVP for almost every single game he had played since joining the team (and those few times he hadn’t been was when he was off recovering from a shoulder injury that he still wouldn’t talk about).

But if you were to look at the pair of you, you would have never thought that this was Yoongi’s day. You were practically flying with how much you were bouncing on your tip-toes. You were radiating pure happiness, tears glistening in the corner of your eyes as you thought about how amazing it would be for Yoongi to go pro.

“Would you calm down,” Yoongi drawled from beside you. You were stood beside the player’s bench. You weren’t on the team. You weren’t even close to being on the team. But the coach had long since stopped trying to get you to leave, realising you were actually a lot calmer on the bench than in the crowd (you had a tendency to get a little over-excited).

“It’s not a big deal.” Yoongi finished tying his laces.

“Not a big deal,” You screeched, turning to him with wide eyes. You couldn’t believe he was downplaying this. “This is a massive deal, Yoongi! They’re going to see how amazing you are and they’re going to sign you. This time tomorrow, you’re going to be pro.”

Yoongi didn’t reply. Instead, he rolled his right shoulder before standing and moved onto his stretches.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be best friend with a professional basketball player!” you clapped your hands together, thoughts clouded by seeing Yoongi dressed in the infamous blue, white, and yellow of the Thunders.

“Who’s a professional player?” Dong-min asked as he placed his water bottle down on the bench.

“Yoongi. Today’s his day.”

Dong-min frowned. “Wait, I thought you weren’t playing today?”

Yoongi glanced at you before glaring at Dong-min. “No, coach advised that I shouldn’t play. But my shoulder’s fine.” Yoongi stood from the bench and moved onto his leg warm-ups.

“Wait, your shoulder’s been hurting?” You frowned, all your previous excitement dying upon your lips. You scanned Yoongi to see if he really was still injured, but all you saw was his usual impassiveness as he stared cooly down at you. It had been six months since he was injured, two since he’d been allowed to train again.

“I’m fine,” He said sternly.

“Yoongi,” You began but were quickly cut off by the sound of the coach’s whistle.

Yoongi glanced back at you and said, “Yn, I’m fine.” He moved to join his team, leaving you to wonder if he really was fine.

The roar of the crowd was addictive. The moment the players hit the court, the crowd were buzzing with anticipation. You couldn’t help but push your concern aside as you lost yourself in the moment. Besides, it helped that, despite Dong-min’s concern, Yoongi was playing his usual game. There were no awkward movement, no hesitation in his throws. You wouldn’t have known he was injured unless you had seen him in his sling.

Yoongi was a pro, passing to his team and executing excellent plays like they were second nature. As the game crept towards the end of the first half, Yoongi’s team was in the lead. Still, he didn’t lose his cool. He nodded his head to his beaming teammates, not once letting the scoreboard relax him.

The ball was tossed to Yoongi, who immediately started to dribble it down the court. There were only thirty seconds on the clock and Yoongi had more than enough time to steal one more point. You rose from the bench in anticipation, hands clasped to your mouth as you could barely breathe.

That’s when it happened.

The other team’s defence went to steal the ball but instead barrelled into Yoongi’s right shoulder with enough force to make you wince. Yoongi went down as the ref’s whistle blew to stop the game. The stadium went quiet as the team rushed over to make sure Yoongi was okay. You were frozen. The sounds he was releasing reminded you of a wounded animal. You had never heard such pain coming from him and you didn’t know what to do. Yoongi was strong. When you rushed to hospital after his accident, he hadn’t made a peep. Even when the doctors reset his shoulder, he hadn’t screamed.

All you could do was watch as the medics carried him off on a stretcher.

“You can go after him, you know?” Dong-min said quietly as the team regrouped by the bench, spirits low. You could tear the couch eating out the ref, calling the other teams player reckless.

“Is it bad?” You asked quietly, pleading with your eyes of Dong-min to say no. It felt like this was all your fault. You were so excited to see him play, but if one knock was all it took for Yoongi to be in that much pain…

Dong-min shrugged. “He wasn’t supposed to be playing at all,” he confessed.

“What?” You turned on your heel, outraged that Yoongi had kept that from you. You had been best friends for years, you told each other everything. Had he kept his pain from you?

You jogged lightly through the team’s locker rooms, stopping as the medic stepped out of the physician’s room. The medic shook his head at you.

“Who let the damn kid play? He should have been benched.”

“Is he okay?”

“His rotator cuff is torn, what do you think?” The medic moved past you, grumbling about stubborn players not listening to their doctors.

You hesitated at the door. If his rotator cuff was torn, that meant Yoongi was not only was in a great deal of pain, he was going to need surgery to fix it.

“Oh, Yoongi,” You sighed, closing your eyes. You knew his accident was more serious than he let on, but you wanted to believe him when he told you he was okay. Now you couldn’t help but feel like you could have prevented this. If you had made him take you along to doctors appointments, you could have made him follow his treatment. You could have prevented him from playing until his shoulder was fully healed.

You jumped as a large crash sounded from within the room. You rushed to open the door to find Yoongi heaving in the middle of the room, his right arm in a sling and the doctor’s table on its side.

“Yoongi?” You quietly called, approaching him slowly to give him enough time to tell you to stop. You’d never seen him this worked up. This was the guy who rarely showed emotion, who never let things work him up. The most you had ever seen out of him was the time Seoul had the largest snowfall in recorded history and you’d gone sledging. He’d laughed so hard he couldn’t stand.

But this was different.

“Yoongi?” You called again, reaching out to touch his non-injured shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he spat, but you could hear the pain in his voice. You could hear everything you hadn’t been willing to admit since he was hurt.

“It’s okay if you’re not, Yoongi.” You moved slightly to see his face, only to find his silent tears running down his cheeks. His red-rimmed eyes stared at you as if he couldn’t really see you.

In that moment, the best friend you knew and loved was gone.

He shuddered as he tried to catch his breath, his body collapsing in on itself. You barely moved in time to stop him from landing heavily on his knees as you cradled his body to you, making sure not to touch his injured shoulder. You ran your fingers through his hair as he buried his head in your neck.

You didn’t know how to comfort him. You knew telling him things were going to get better wouldn’t work. Because this was it. If he’d torn his rotator cuff, no team were going to be willing to sign him. His basketball career was over before it had even started.

And nothing in the world was going to fix that.

So all you could do was hold him, quietly absorbing his pain.

BGW Drabble Master List

Master List

#btsghostiemarathon #btsghostie #yoongi #bts #bts au #bts drabbles #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #suga #bts suga

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agntofhydra · 4 years

Text

Sawbones

summary: Red String of Fate Soulmate AU

Soul mates have a red thread tied to each others pinkies that only one of them can see.

You're the Resistance's head medic. You can see the red thread of fate that leads you to your soulmate. Poe doesn't believe in the soulmate / thread theory. You don't agree with his tactics, nor does he approve of yours. Leia and Holdo just really want a win.

pairing: poe dameron x reader

rating: mature for later chapters

read me on ao3!

SAWBONES

ONE // TANGIBLE

You’d never given much thought to it, too many other obligations and priorities took precedence over where exactly that small, red thread tied around your pinky led.

When you weren’t completely swamped, however, you’d like to see how far your eyes could follow the trail until it seemed to fade, yet still pulled taught by whomever was on the other end. You’d find yourself atop one of the many hills in D’Qar, wishing it was tangible, wishing you could actually pluck and feel the twang of the vibrations across the string. Maybe they could feel it too, wherever they were. They could be anywhere. The galaxy was infinite, and it was slim that people ever discovered their soulmate. Only one could see it, the other one blind until they had developed feelings for the other.

A mechanical whir knocked you out from inside your head. A meddroid was standing to your left, waiting for you to take the chart from its grasp.

“Sorry, FX-7,” you grabbed the stack of papers.

“Engineer Jasti almost blew their left upper appendage off due to a malfunction in the blaster cannon of the x-wing they were working on,” FX-7 informed you.

You blinked at the droid. Left arm, you thought. Just say left arm.

“Bed 5,” the droid finished, walking away.

Flipping through the pages, though you really didn’t have to because Jasti - along with several other engineers - frequented your medbay. You sighed as you pulled back the curtain.

“Again?”

Jasti shrugged. “Blame Dameron. He’s the one who puts these x-wings through hell.”

You rolled your eyes, checking over the bandaging FX-7 had applied. Satisfied, you gave Jasti a bacta-shot just for good measure. She yelped and you threw the needle in the bin.

“I’ve had words with General Organa. Is he scouting for First Order intel or is he just taking them out for the fun of it?”

A snort came from the bed behind you, and you threw back the curtain. Laying in the bed with an arm over his eyes was Yolo Ziff, a pilot in Blue Squadron. Confused, you flipped through the pages in your hand, wondering why you hadn’t seen his name come up.

“Snuck in here for a few seconds of peace, Doc,” he said, arm still over his eyes. “Dameron’s got us practicing escape maneuvers and barrel rolls until we run out of fuel. Even when I’m out of the seat I feel like I’m still piloting.”

You audibly scoffed, handing him a small vial of blue liquid to quell his motion sickness. He took it gratefully as you dimmed the light above his bed.

“The audacity this man has, to have his pilots coming to the med bay just to escape him.” you chewed the inside of your cheeks. “Doesn’t even check on them. I’ve never even met the guy.”

“I’ve seen him maybe twice,” Jasti interrupted your rambling. “When he’s not in an x-wing, he’s in someone’s room. I think it’s Galen, that sweet holographer this week.”

“That was the beginning of this week,” Ziff laughed. “She tried to soulmate trick him the other day. He got so pissed he took off into the hills with BB-8 and came back this morning.”

“Soulmate trick?” You asked.

“He can’t see the thread,” Ziff explained, arm now by his side and making eye contact with you. “Countless women have tried to convince him they can, and theirs leads to him. He doesn’t trust the concept anymore.”

“Can’t you see your thread, doc?” Jasti said quietly.

You looked down at your right pinky, following the thread as it cut through the wall, leading to Maker knows where. The small action was an answer in itself and Ziff let out a low whistle. You don’t know how it got out amongst the Resistance base, and right now you wish you could slingshot whoever it came from into Dathomir.

“I’ve never met someone who could,” he said, now sitting up. “Can you just see yours or everyone else’s too?”

Uncomfortable with the topic, you had busied yourself with organizing the vials and beakers in the medicine cabinet between the two beds.

“Just my own.”

Both Ziff and Jasti seemed to deflate - just a little.

“Do you know who yours is? Have you ever gotten close?” Jasti questioned. You locked the cabinet once you were finished and put both your hands in the pockets of your uniform.

“It sort of disappears after a couple hundred meters…” you shrugged. “I’ve tried to see how long it goes for, but I think I’d need to be in somewhat close proximity to figure it out.”

“How close do you think?”

“Same planet as least,” you reasoned. “Sometimes, I feel a vibration, a pluck from the string that makes me feel like whoever it is is near. I don’t investigate, though.”

“Why not?” both Jasti and Ziff said in unison.

“I’ve got my hands full with injured engineers and runaway pilots,” You replied, grabbing Ziff’s empty vial and tucking Jasti’s chart into the designated spot on the wall above her bed.

“Get some rest. Both of you.”

✗ ✗ ✗

Vice Admiral Holdo regarded you with a small smile. Even through the hologram, she put you at ease.

“I’m at about 35% of max occupancy,” you updated her, reading off your list you’d created only an hour ago with the help of FX-7. “Minor scrapes and injuries, nothing bacta and my steady hands can’t handle.” The corners of your mouth pulled upwards.

“Thank you for being our most consistent asset, Doctor. Your work is truly invaluable.”

“One thing, Vice Admiral,” you caught her before she signed off. “I have concerns about the quality of our x-wings and those piloting them. Do these constant missions hold any worth?” You almost winced at your bluntness. Of course, Organa, Ackbar and Holdo herself wouldn’t let Dameron and his squadron joy ride whenever they pleased. Yet, from what you’d heard of Poe Dameron, it seemed as though he could truly get away with whatever he wanted.

Her soft smile remained. “I’m glad you’ve brought this up,” she began. “We’ve recently come into some intelligence that calls for the creation of a true operation. I would like for you to be in attendance, inform the squadron of any risks and avoidances they should be attuned to.”

“I will, gladly. When?”

Upon your response, Leia Organa appeared over Holdo’s shoulder.

“Whenever you get here. I advise you to walk fast,” Leia said with a wicked smile.

Shaking your head, the hologram disappeared and you quickly buttoned your medical coat, making sure you didn’t have any mystery stains on yourself before beginning the trek through the underground hallway into the meeting room.

You could hear the murmur of voices amongst the team, and as you entered, you were met with a rather small gathering. A few faces you hadn’t recognized, along with a few pilots, and of course Admirals Ackbar, Organa and Holdo gathered around the central table. Although you had never actually laid your eyes on him, you knew the man who also occupied the table was the one who had been the talk around D’Qar for months.

Poe Dameron was truly as striking as he was described. His gaze was locked on the planet slowly spinning in the middle of the table until the whoosh of the doors slid open, announcing your entrance. His palms pressed to the table’s edge, he straightened when he saw you, dark eyes making your stomach churn. The room quieted as you took your place to the left of Holdo, across the table from Poe.

“You must be the Doctor,” he smiled. His teeth seemed to illuminate the room and you hesitated for a second. A small, split second.

“You’d be correct. And you are…” you trailed off, feigning ignorance. You knew that a man like Poe Dameron was never not known, and you thought he could be knocked down a peg or seven.

“Poe Dameron,” his hands folded behind his back. “Black Squadron Leader. We haven’t had the pleasure,” he lifted an eyebrow. “Yet.”

“No, we haven’t,” you responded, disregarding his innuendo. “I have, however, met several of your pilots. I wish the circumstances weren’t in the environment of my medbay.”

Poe furrowed his brow at that, and you stopped yourself from widening his eyes from the realization that he wasn’t aware of his pilots basically hiding from him by coming to her med bay, feigning illness or just needing a quiet place to rest. This either meant that Poe was completely oblivious to the fact that he was working his pilots too hard, or didn’t care and wasn’t too happy with the fact that they’d sought you out before or after flights.

Some leader, you quipped in your head.

“I’m glad you could join us on such short notice,” General Organa said with a knowing smile. You nodded politely and Ackbar increased the size of the holograms of information on the table so it was visible to the rest of the room.

“Our flight squadrons have recovered intel on a possible smuggling ship floating within the orbit of Kessel,” Leia nodded her head towards the planet, the cynosure of the table. “It’s been in our knowledge for a while, and we’d received no information that it didn’t simply belong to a spice smuggler.”

“Until now,” Poe chimed in. “It’s been stationary, in the orbit of Kessel for too long not to be something, our intel suggests it’s a storage unit or pit stop for the First Order.”

“How do we know it holds something valuable, of interest?” a technician asked.

“Red squadron and I flew by it last week. No need for there to be sleeping TIE fighters guarding it. I’m assuming the TIE fighters were manned, but off so they didn’t show up on our radars.”

The technician nodded.

“So, we aren’t gonna try our hand at the Kessel run?” one pilot muttered to another behind her and she pursed her lips, trying not to let out a chuckle. Especially in Leia’s presence. In all actuality, she’d probably laugh too.

“What’s your plan?” you asked, eyes locking with Poe’s. You fought to keep the air in your lungs.

“I take Red and Blue Squadron, and we find out what’s on that ship.”

That wasn’t enough for you. “You take your best pilots, blasters hot - and if it backfires? If you’re met with First Order reinforcements, a Star Destroyer?” Poe narrowed his eyes at you, but you weren’t going to stand across the table and let him flip a coin with lives. You continued.

“What if the ship is just spice?”

Poe clenches his jaw, rolling back his shoulders and you definitely don’t focus on the thick muscle peeking out from his unbuttoned flight suit, veins traveling up from his clavicle to his mandible. You wonder where he’s sensitive - the curve of his neck? His carotid? Maybe it was right under the curve of his mandible. Your mind berated you shortly after your thoughts dissipated for asking.

“If it’s not? If we uncover invaluable information that could give us the upper hand on those bastards?”

Carotid, you decide.

“It seems too hasty,” you defend. “No extraction plan, no real strategy. I’ve heard plenty about you, Dameron. I know you’re good, but are you so good that you can protect all your pilots if it goes sideways? Are you able to abandon the mission without finding out what the ship holds?”

It’s surprising that Ackbar, Organa and Holdo would let you two bicker this out. However, Holdo and Organa did ask for your presence and your insight, so they couldn’t really object to your extremely plausible concerns.

“Would you like to hop in a ship and come with? Oversee the operation yourself, Doctor?” Poe said slowly. The edge he gave to your title made your blood burn. Never had someone ever used your title as an insult, made it sound like a slur. It was something you sacrificed everything for. More than he could ever know.

“I’m sure you’re more than capable of overseeing an operation, Commander.” Two could definitely play this game. “But this isn’t an operation, this is you crossing your fingers and hoping your intel is reliable.”

“I’d have to agree,” Holdo nodded. Ackbar threw his hands up in exasperation.

“How are we supposed to gain anything by risking nothing?” He turned to you. Poe smirked at his words. You suppressed yourself from opening glaring at your superior and instead turned your direction back to Poe.

“You risk these lives, you’re in charge of contacting the families of the fallen. You deal with the fact that it was all your call, despite the glaring fact that you need more information.” You bit the inside of your cheek - hard. It didn’t matter how good Poe Dameron was. The information and operation was too risky, too murky and grey when, for everything at stake, it should be a little more clean cut.

“These pilots know what they’re risking every time they get in an x-wing. It’s why they joined. Do tell me Doctor, why exactly did you join?”

The tension in the air was so thick, you and Poe were mere centimeters from each other's throats. If he was close enough and you had a scalpel, you no doubt would slash at his. Leia minimized the holograms and cleared her throat.

“We need to find out what’s on that ship, but I have to agree that we do need more reliable intel. Do some more scouting, more recon, and we’ll reconvene when there’s more to go off of.” She then turned the table off and it seemed that the meeting was over. Poe still held your gaze, his eyes never leaving yours as you sighed.

“I can’t fix them out there,” you softened. “I can’t help. Understand that.”

“Then you picked the wrong role,” Poe responded, crossing the table and coming towards you. “If we lose that ship and it turns out to be valuable, all because you want more information, that’s your call.”

“As much as you may hate it, my judgement was asked for. I won’t apologize for having a conflicting opinion.”

You swear his gaze flickered somewhere below your eyes before darting back, too quick to realize where exactly he had looked. He swallowed.

“Neither will I. Pleasure to finally meet you,” he nodded curtly.

A sharp twang vibrated your smallest finger on your right hand, the thread tied there felt like it was physically being pulled forwards from its resting place at your side. Now, the thread felt tangible. You could feel the cut into your skin, the pressure from the pull. You looked down, following the thread not even a meter away to see it end in a perfect loop tied to the pinky of Poe.

He wrinkled his forehead as you looked up at him, face flushed pale and blood rushing and pumping so hard it was all you could hear. The room suddenly felt so loud and so small. It felt like you were trapped under Kaminoan waves, fighting for breath, fighting to surface but you were paralyzed. Poe voiced your name in concern and you barely registered it. Swallowing hard, your gaze flickered back down to his left hand that was now reaching up to grip your shoulder. You stepped back before he could make contact.

“I will see you around, Commander.”

And with that, you fled the room, all but sprinting to your medbay, your sanctuary, your haven. You emptied the contents of your stomach in the refresher.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #pre-TFA #soulmate au #red thread soulmates #medic!reader #mine #poe dameron x you #slow burn #red thread of fate

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tf2-hellhole · 4 years

Note

First kiss with the mercs beloved s/o headcannons please. Also I love your work a lot it inspires me greatly!!

Thank you, I’m glad you’re enjoying my work!!!!

ft. my inability to keep a consistent verb tense

Scout:

The two were out on a date that Scout had planned. He always had the cutest date ideas; Tonight he had taken his S/O out to dinner in a cute local restaurant, then took them to the drive-in theater. His S/O noticed that he seemed really on edge throughout the date, but when they asked him about it he insisted it was nothing.

He had taken them to see a romantic comedy film. For a long while they sat with their eyes glued to the screen and a popcorn bag in their arms. It was only towards the end of the film that they finally turned to make a comment to Scout and noticed that he wasn’t watching the movie- he was watching them, and he had leaned significantly closer. He turned his head away and shifted back to a normal sitting position, stuttering something about stretching his back.

His S/O smiled a little. That’s why he was all nervous; He wanted a romantic-first-kiss date. They reached up to gently grab his chin and turn him toward them. Before he could ask what they were doing, they pressed their lips to his.

Once they separate, Scout is obviously very flustered but he tries to play it cool while asking for another kiss. His S/O is happy to kiss him as much as he likes.

Soldier:

The team had recently received a bunch of new weapons and everyone was trying their new gear out. Soldier was busy rocket jumping all over the place, and was trying to perfect a certain trick. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t get it right.

After about 15 minutes he stopped and sat down to drink some water, obviously furious that he couldn’t get it right. As soon as his S/O sat down next to him he started complaining loudly, claiming that the rocket launcher was faulty or something like that. They could tell his failure was making him really upset.

His S/O reminds him that with enough hard work and time, he can pull it off. He gets ridiculously hyped up by their encouragement and gets up to try again.

After another 15-20 minutes, he finally pulls off the trick flawlessly. He laughs triumphantly and immediately turns to his S/O with an almost child-like expression of pride and excitement on his face. He runs over and gives them a short but passionate kiss before thanking them for the encouragement and running off to practice some more.

Pyro:

The two had been spending the last few hours in private, just cuddling and watching TV while Pyro doodled. Pyro had already become accustomed to not wearing their mask around their S/O and did so regularly, including that moment. At some point, Pyro looked up at their S/O for a moment, completely silent, and then looked back down at their drawing. His S/O took notice and looked over at Pyro curiously, but looked away after a moment as they didn’t care too much.

After a moment, they noticed Pyro looking at them again from the corner of their eye before seeing them look back down. At this point, they were really curious about what Pyro was doing. After the fifth time, they finally turned and asked Pyro what they were doing.

Pyro giggled before holding up the paper they miraculously had not burned yet, which had a drawing of their S/O on it. It wasn’t finished and it wasn’t very good, but it certainly was a cute drawing. Their S/O smiled and complimented Pyro’s drawing before leaning down to press a quick kiss to their lips. The poor baby was super flustered by the kiss but absolutely loved it.

Demo:

Demo’s S/O was super annoyed to find Demo standing at the door to their base quarters at 11:30 at night, so drunk he could barely stand. He would often drop by at late times while drunk like this, but never this late. Now it was too late to take him back to his room, or he’d wake the other mercs. They sighed softly and helped him inside.

As soon as he was inside he started mumbling all sorts of things as his S/O set up somewhere to sleep. He slurred out a “Whaaat? I donwanna sleep there…” as they set up a space on the floor for him. They turned to him and simply informed him that they didn’t want him pissing on or throwing up on their bed. He protested, claiming he would do no such thing, until he finally annoyed them enough to let him sleep in the bed with them to shut him up. He beamed when they finally gave in and promptly mumbled, “Ahhh, thankya, love… Aloveya…” before pressing a sloppy kiss to their lips.

HIs S/O couldn’t help but giggle as he climbed into bed and snuggled up next to them. They jokingly told him he was an idiot, but he only mumbled an unintelligible response before falling asleep. They rolled their eyes at this and kissed his forehead before closing their eyes as well.

Heavy:

Heavy is not one to initiate things the first time, so his S/O is gonna have to kiss him first.

One morning, Heavy’s S/O stepped into Heavy’s quarters in the base and greeted him. They would often come visit him in the morning and would often have breakfast with him. He looked up from his book and smiled softly before asking them to come relax with him. As they cuddled up to his side, he asked if they would like to learn a little Russian. They smile and say yes. Even if they already speak Russian, his vocabulary is ridiculously big in Russian and it’s fun to learn new words from him.

He teaches and talks with them for like half an hour before his S/O says that they’re hungry and ask if they can finish up so they can go get breakfast. Heavy, of course, says that’s fine. His S/O gets up to leave, but just before they do, they thank him for the lesson and give him a quick kiss. He’s glad his S/O didn’t notice the blush rising in his cheeks before they left.

Engie:

One busy weekend at the base, Engie asked his S/O if they’ll be free that night. When they told him they were, he grinned and asked if they’d be willing to meet him in his quarters that night. He seemed delighted when they said they’d love to spend some time with him.

That night, his S/O was pleasantly surprised to find that he had made dinner for the two of them and prepared a movie. For a long while they happily chatted over the food, before Engie told them to go sit on the couch and ran out of the room for a moment, then came back with his guitar. They couldn’t help but laugh as he sang them a bunch of love songs.

As soon as he finished his last song, his S/O got up, walked around the table to him, and leaned down to give him a soft kiss. As they pulled away, they giggled at his awestruck expression and pressed another one to his forehead. He finally snapped out of it when they asked if they can watch the movie now, to which he responded with a yes. The two spent the rest of the night cuddled up together on his couch before falling asleep.

Medic:

For the last week, Medic had been hard at work on an experiment that he couldn’t seem to get right. He often got super frustrated and would have to step away from his work for a few minutes to calm his nerves. His S/O would often sit with him during these breaks, just keeping him company and sometimes giving a few words of encouragement. He was always grateful for their support and always thanked them before returning to his work.

After a few days of this, Medic excitedly runs up to his S/O and demands that they come back to the lab with him. He thinks he’s finally figured out how to make his experiment work, and he wants the person who supported him through it to witness his success. They can’t say no to his almost child-like expression of excitement.

He grabs their hand and rushes back to perform the last step of his experiment. His S/O could tell he was a little anxious as he sighed deeply. The two waited in anticipation for the experiment to show any signs of success for a moment… until Medic jumped up triumphantly and cheered when it did. He immediately turned to his S/O and pulled them into a quick but passionate kiss, then started running around the lab and expressing his excitement. His S/O could only stand and watch him with a big grin and a red face.

Sniper:

Sniper’s S/O came by his camper in the morning as they often did. When they opened the door, Sniper greeted them with a smile and two hot coffees. They were taken aback when he asked what they’d like for breakfast. “You’re in a good mood today, aren’t you?” They joked before telling him what they wanted. Of course, this dumbass only knows how to grill lizards or something, so he orders something from town to share with his S/O.

When the food finally arrives, his S/O smiles and thanks him for ordering food for them. He says, “You’re welcome, ‘Roo,” and holds out the box. They reach out to take it from him, but when their fingers are inches away from the box, he pulls it back with a mischievous chuckle. His S/O looks up at him with wide eyes and asks what the big deal is. He leaned down and propped himself up with one hand on the table to say that they’ll get their food in exchange for a kiss.

His S/O couldn’t help but laugh and call him a dork. They reached up to cup his face in their hands and gave him a short but sweet kiss. He chuckled again when they separated and sat down across from them, putting down the boxes of food. He looked up at them with a soft smile and thanked them for the kiss.

Spy:

Spy’s S/O grinned at Spy as he entered their quarters; He had developed a little habit of visiting each night to spend some time with his S/O without the other mercs around. He sat down next to them and wrapped an arm around their waist, and asked if they’d like to go out for dinner the next night. His S/O happily exclaimed that they’d love to go out with him, which earned a content chuckle from him.

The next night, Spy turned up at their quarters early to show them a beautiful outfit he’d bought for them for the night. They got themselves together and drove to a ridiculously fancy restaurant in a neighboring city. Spy’s S/O was mindblown by how expensive all of the food was, but Spy didn’t hesitate to buy them anything they wanted. The two had an amazing night enjoying each other’s company and eating the delicious food.

Once they got back to the base, Spy walked them back to their quarters and asked if they enjoyed the night. They laughed softly in response and told him that this was one of the best nights of their life. They then leaned forward and gave Spy a gentle kiss and said good night before disappearing into their quarters. Spy was silent for a moment, but then chuckled to himself and turned to walk back to his own quarters.

#tf2 #teamfortress2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 x s/o #tf2 x y/n #tf2 imagines #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy

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always-arabis · 3 years

Text

Chapter 13: Teaser

Sam was shivering in earnest by the time they reached the atrium. His arm throbbed with every beat of his heart, and when he lifted the cold compress, he could see that his skin was red and wet-looking. He swallowed against the taste of bile as he pressed the compress back against his burns.

“Are you going to vomit?” Knock Out asked, matter-of-factly.

Sam took a fortifying breath before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you certain?” Knock Out asked, turning onto the atrium ramp, “I can sub-space a kidney dish. I’d rather not clean energon and the contents of your stomach out of my interior.”

Sam fixed the dashboard with a wry look. “I’m sure. Thanks, though. Your concern is touching.”

Knock Out scoffed, but the sound was lacking its usual derision. They made their way up the ramp, past the third deck, before turning down the wide corridor in the direction of the mess hall. Sam was so distracted by both the pain and his embarrassment that he never even noticed Ratchet’s ire until Knock Out pulled to a stop in the medical bay. The Chief Medical Officer was standing with his servos planted on his hips and a furious expression on his face.

“Ohmygod.” Sam managed, staring through the windshield in sinking dismay, “He’s going to kill me.”

“Would that I could.” Ratchet snapped, rapping Knock Out sharply on the hood, “Get out.”

The Aston Martin popped open his door without protest, and Sam climbed gingerly out of the seat. The door snapped shut behind him and, as soon as Sam stepped away, Knock Out transformed into his bipedal mode. Sam was momentarily distracted from the coming Armageddon by the sound of engines rumbling in the corridor. He half-turned, glancing over his shoulder as Bumblebee, Hot Rod, Bluestreak, and Hound rolled into the hangar. The four alt modes were noticeably damaged, with dents and scratches in their usually pristine metal plating.

“You four find a berth. I’ll deal with you in a moment.” Ratchet growled.

Sam turned back around, slanting a hesitant smile up at the irate medic.

“Hey, Ratch.” He tried, “Have a good recharge?”

Ratchet did not deign to answer him. Instead, he crouched down, gathering Sam up in his servos and straightening to his full height. Despite the cold fury that was radiating off the wizened glow at the edge of his mind, Ratchet’s actions were considerate and gentle. He crossed the room to the berth filled with human-purposed medical equipment and deposited Sam directly onto the hospital bed. Sam leaned to the side, looking past Ratchet to watch as Bumblebee climbed onto a nearby berth. The yellow scout’s expression was unreadable, but his movements were stiff and pained.

“Of all the pit-blasted idiocy.” Ratchet groused as his holoform materialized on the berth, “I’m going to enjoy writing up each one of you.”

Sam glanced back at the medic, a frowning turning down the corners of his mouth.

“It wasn’t their fault.” He protested as the holoform stepped up to his bedside, “Crossblades started it.”

“Crossblades is a conniving little social climber.” Ratchet bit back as his holoform snapped his fingers impatiently. Sam obediently extended his burned arm, which the holoform grasped by his wrist and elbow, rotating the damaged appendage so that Ratchet could get a better look, “But it was your bonded that threw the first punch.” From his perch on the nearby berth, Bumblebee whistled something angry and sharp-sounding. Ratchet turned around, pinning the scout with a withering glare. “Be silent or I’ll use your vocoder as a paperweight.”

Bumblebee narrowed his optics, but otherwise he did not respond. The tension was interrupted by First Aid and Meltdown who appeared from the back office, each carrying a crate in their servos. The two medics crossed the room, First Aid going to Bumblebee and Meltdown going to Hot Rod. The cavalier was lying supine on the berth, and for the first time all evening, he wasn’t running his mouth. Meltdown whistled something to Knock Out and extended the crate he was holding towards him. The medic inclined his helm in response, accepting the crate and setting it on the berth beside Hot Rod.

“You have first- and second-degree burns over most of your arm.” Ratchet rumbled. “It will need to be bandaged.”

In an effort to lighten the mood, Sam cracked a lop-sided smile up at the medic. “Just like old times, huh?”

Ratchet fixed him with a glower that could have flash-frozen molten lava. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you.” When Sam opened his mouth to protest, the holoform squeezed his uninjured wrist in warning, “Not. One. Word.”

“Now, now, Ratchet. It’s not as serious as all that.” Meltdown chided, coming to stand beside Ratchet’s bipedal mode, “It was a bit of youthful mischief that went awry—no lasting harm done.”

Although Sam was thankful for the intervention, he still couldn’t look Meltdown in the eye. The memory of what he had walked in on earlier that day was burned into his brain like it had been branded there.

“I will thank-you to keep your opinion to yourself.” Ratchet rumbled coldly as he started arranging medical supplies on the overbed table.

Meltdown sighed theatrically, and a moment later, a holoform materialized on the opposite side of the bed. Sam started in surprise—he was older, perhaps late fifties with dark hair that curled about his ears. Like Ratchet, his eyes were steel blue and his hair was shot through with gray. Unlike Ratchet, however, his holoform was dressed in a button-up shirt and slacks, rather than military fatigues.

“I can take over here.” He said, picking up the bandages that Ratchet’s holoform was arranging to his liking, “Knock Out will need your assistance replacing Hot Rod’s secondary fuel-line.”

Ratchet stiffened in anger, but Meltdown just gave him a small, knowing smile. “I’m his secondary care provider, am I not? This will give me the chance to work with him. Go on—your newspark will be fine.”

Sam glanced from Meltdown to Ratchet, waiting for the inevitable explosion. To his surprise, however, the two CMOs stared at one another for a weighted moment and then Ratchet gave a stiff nod. Sam’s eyebrows climbed all the way to his hairline as his Creator turned around, crossing the room towards Hot Rod. First Aid whistled as he approached, gesturing meaningfully to Hot Rod’s abdomen. Ratchet rumbled back, before taking his place next to the field medic, obscuring Hot Rod from view.

“May I have your arm?” Meltdown asked, pulling Sam back to himself. He glanced over at the holoform, who was holding a nondescript tube in his hands, “I need to apply an ointment and then bandage your burns. It won’t hurt.”

Sam nodded faintly as he extended his arm towards him. Meltdown murmured encouragement, before pulling the overbed table up to Sam’s chest. The medic worked on applying a thin, clear gel to the worst of his burns. It was cool and left a pleasant numbness in its wake. When he finished, Meltdown set the ointment on the overbed table and picked up a roll of gauze. The holoform glanced up, meeting Sam’s gaze.

“Did you have fun?” He murmured.

Sam blinked, taken aback by the conspiratorial note in his voice.

“Yeah.” He said eventually, “I really did.”

Meltdown’s eyes creased with a fond smile. “I’m glad.”

#TheSignatureSeries #thesignaturebookclub #transformers fanfiction #tf fanfic #sam witwicky #Sam Witwicky/Bumblebee

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sasa-gay-yo · 3 years

Text

Don’t Let the Sun Catch You Cryin’ - Song Drabble Request

Request: Here

Summary: You were the only one who saw Levi cry at night. You were the only one who could soothe him back to sleep after a nightmare. You were the only one for him.

Timeline: Season 3

Warnings: death, mentions of attempted suicide

Art Credits: AoT (I think?)

Don’t let the sun catch you cryin’

The night’s the time for all your tears

Levi shot up again in bed, a sweat all over his body and the freshly washed sheets. The body stirred next to him and it took him a few seconds to realize that he was in bed with you, and not out in the field with Isabel’s head rolling towards him. Still, he couldn’t shake the pain the vivid nightmare had brought him. The pain of losing his best friends. The heart wrenching, disgusting pain of when he saw that Isabel’s head had turned into yours.

“Levi,” you spoke up to him, reaching a hand to cradle his face. Fresh tears made trails down to his jawline and you wiped them away, “Did you have a nightmare again, love?”

Your heart may be broken tonight

But tomorrow in the morning light

“It’s alright, love. Come here.” You held your arms out to him and he paused for a bit, looking down at your figure. You were there, in your shared bed, outside Trost, and not inside a titan’s mouth. His heart clenched thinking about what his mind had played before him. The titans were a wall away, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. Something that would break him. Even when he laid in your arms, his soul felt restless. You noticed, yet you couldn’t do anything but shush his tears before the sun rose and he had to face everyone.

Don’t let the sun catch you cryin’

The night-time shadows disappear

And with them go all your tears

He awoke when you did, the sun shining from the broken window above the bed. The day had come and the tears from last night were dried up. As he walked to the mess hall, he smelled the breakfast that you were probably making for the early risers. Eggs. Before the others woke up, he snuck in the kitchen, behind you, to hug you, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He took in your scent, trying to stick it in his memory. Something didn’t feel right about the day ahead, but he calmed himself with you.

For the morning will bring joy

For every girl and boy

Horseface was the first one in, interrupting his moment with you, but his heart still beat when he saw your smile. Of course it was him. The one who was in love with you from the first training session you led for the new cadets. Levi secretly found Jean’s pining after you very annoying, but at least he had you in his bed every night, reassuring him that it was only Levi for you.

“I made breakfast. Are the other boys up? I’m sure Mikasa will wake the girl’s quarters. We’re running low on food for everyone and the chef’s are out getting some more supplies.”

“I think Connie’s going to need like, twenty more minutes. He went to bed late after he drank with some others.” You tsk-ed to Jean, mirroring the habit you’d gained from Levi, and dished out a plate and cup to Jean before making you and Levi a plate. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as you ate, talking to Jean about the plans for today’s maneuver. Your hair was messy, per usual, and you still spoke with your mouth full, but it was endearing to him, cute even. That was the hair he ran his hand through, trying to ground himself in reality last night. Your hands, the ones using a fork to break the egg’s yolk, rubbed his back, and made sure the tears were all off his face when the sun started to rise over the horizon.

So don’t let the sun catch you cryin’

We know that cryin’s not a bad thing

But stop your cryin’ when the birds sing

He couldn’t find you. There was a specific rendezvous point in the meat-packing district, and you hadn’t shown up. Levi felt the tears rise to his throat as he yelled at the others for leaving you. Where had Jean lost you? Was it when him and Armin went to save the cart? Was it before then? Jean tried to explain to Levi that you had told the two to get to the cart while you fought Kenny’s soldiers on their left. You would cover for the two kids who didn’t know how to kill humans. You’d kill for them. They were yours to take care of.

He didn’t know what to do, and he realized this is what his nightmares were warning him about. The panic set in, and you weren’t there to soothe him. He was going to go hysteric if he didn’t have your hands on his face in the next five minutes. He needed to find you before they’d rush to Reeve’s to save Eren and Historia. He couldn’t do this without you at his side. He could face Kenny and his past without the only other person who knew. He swore out loud before jumping out a window to survey Trost. He was thankful someone held back the others, as the tears started leaking out of his eyes.

No. No. No. You can’t cry now. You weren’t there. He can’t cry when you’re not with him. Tonight, he would, when you’d finally found Eren and Historia and you could get some well-deserved rest in a newly reformed government. He’d tell you about the nightmares he had, and you would kiss his forehead, calming him down with your slow heartbeat pressed against his ear.

It seemed that his world transformed into that nightmare when he saw your body thrown in an alley way, dried blood coming from your forehead and splattered on the cobblestone ground. In the shade of the building, he picked your body up, not being able to stop the tears now. The only thing that kept him from breaking was your slow, shallow breaths. They were the same speed as when you would try to calm his panic attacks.

It may be hard to discover

That you’ve been left for another

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I can’t say if or when she will wake up. Her brain was heavily damaged, and she’s lost a lot of blood. While you were off in Orvuld, they did transfusions and mercury purging, but we can’t do anything other than that. We have to just sit and wait.” He wanted to punch the doctor. He wanted to kick the window out. Per Historia’s request, he’d moved you to a hospital in Mitras to gain the best medical attention he could, but they couldn’t do anything for you. You were a few minutes walk away from where she was housing the other Scouts, but soon Levi would be drawn into various meetings with the new queen, and he wouldn’t be able to be by your side. He wouldn’t be able to see you wake up.

During the nights, he cried, but this time no one was there to wipe his tears. In the daytime when the Scouts visited you, he remained in the corner, dark circles growing more and more prominent, and showing no emotion. He talked to Erwin with no fervor when he announced the news that you were carrying his child, and that he’d like to keep it if the Commander allowed. Erwin, seeing how horrible and broken Levi looked, permitted it, yet felt a deep cut in his heart when he heard Levi talk about the future like you would be back in it. The doctor hadn’t given a good prognosis, and if the child was to be born, they would have to cut it out. How would a woman who was unconscious be able to go through that without dying? Levi wouldn’t even entertain the idea, but Erwin and Hange prepared behind the scenes if the worst did, in fact, occur.

He cried every night it seemed, and he didn’t care if those outside heard him. He was losing you. Losing his everything. There was no one to calm him down anymore. He could feel the despair consume him more than any other death he’d witnessed. Had there ever been happiness in his life before this? He wouldn’t know. It was something so far away from him now. You weren’t there to see the thing growing inside of you, and did you even know about the child before sacrificing yourself for the boys? It made him terrified, the idea of raising something without you, but it made him feel even worse if you didn’t know about it before you’d left him. This was something you’d wanted so bad. At night, when you were holding him to your chest, you would talk about the future like you were guaranteed one. You’d claim it. Someday, you and Levi would live in a cabin, children running around on a farm raising chickens and horses, and no titans in sight. Someday, you could wake up together and not have to go off and fight. Levi was slowly losing hope of that someday when he’d wake up from exhaustion-induced sleep to see your cold, unmoving body taking shallower and shallower breaths.

Levi cried the day he had to leave to reclaim Wall Maria, hoping that you would forgive him for leaving your side. He begged for you to wake up, hoping to see you at his side again one day. He begged and begged. He cried and cried. He hoped you’d hear his tears, sit up, call him love, and wipe them off his face like you always did. You never did.

But don’t forget that love’s a game

And it can always come again

“Daddy, Jean-ey says that I look like my-” The little girl ran up to him with a bucket of water. Levi took the bucket from her grasp and glared at the back of horseface’s head. Even if Jean was your favorite Scout, he had no authority to tell his daughter these things. Every day, Jean would slip in something about you which would make his daughter light up. Jean was becoming your daughter’s favorite too, besides Armin, and he couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle how you were repeating yourself inside this little girl. His heart still broke whenever you were mentioned, the drawing in his pocket carving a square into his chest.

“-You do, love,” he deadpanned while cutting her off and taking a drink. He set the little girl up on the makeshift train, hoping that someone other than Jean or Armin would come and watch over her as Levi continued his work on the railroad. He turned to work again but caught his daughter out of the corner of his eye, messy hair, talking to Armin with a mouthful of water; it was almost too much for him to deal with. Not today. Not on the day he’d lost you forever. The day he made the choice you would have made. A child over yourself, just like when it was the boys over your life. He’d lost you while holding the newborn in his arms. He cried for a whole day, not caring if the sun illuminated his tears.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to go back down. He would never cry in front of his daughter now, not after the months of lulling her to sleep, his cries louder than her newborn ones. It took two years to get over the fact that he was holding your daughter by himself. Two years until he got more than three hours of sleep a night. Two years to come to the fact that he had to stay alive for his daughter and he couldn’t leave to go chase you past the horizion.

He tired once to end it all, a few days after you’d died from the c-section, but just as he was about to, his daughter’s cries rang louder than they’d ever had. It was you, he knew it was. You were telling him to stop from somewhere beyond this world. He had to listen. He always listened to you.

That night, his daughter came to him, bypassing Armin who usually soothed her nightmares. He didn’t know why she’d come to him in his office, but now she was laying on his lap, drool running down her face as he hummed her to sleep. You liked it when he hummed to you, and your daughter was the same. Perhaps he’d found a way to live because he started to see so much of you in his little black-haired demon. No, she was you. Mannerisms, braveness, kindness, sass; all of it was you. That’s why he found tears falling again as he stroked her little head, remembering when you would fall asleep like this while he was busy with paperwork. During those times, he regretted not looking down to admire you like he was your daughter.

“I wish you were here, (Y/F/N). Then we all could be together.” He let out one quiet sob, not to wake up the sleeping child in his lap. He glanced out the window, seeing the sun slowly rise in the distant horizon. Soon, he’d have to leave his daughter with your mother, going off to fight for her safety in a foreign land. That thought was also overwhelming, but he couldn’t think about things like that right now. The sun was coming up, and it was time to put on the façade again.

Oh don’t let the sun catch you cryin’

Don’t let the sun catch you cryin’, oh no

#levi ackerman x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #levi ackerman scenario #levi ackerman x you #dadlevi #levi attack on titan #Captain Levi #attack on titan #aot levi #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #snk levi #aot x reader #aot x y/n

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harcourtholmesii · 3 years

Text

In This Here, Beautiful World (Part 2)

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Pairings: Medic X Heavy / Scout X Miss Pauling / Scout’s Ma X Spy / Soldier X Zhanna / Engineer X Original Character / Saxton Hale X Maggie

Warnings: - Threats of Violence - Violence - Gore

Words: 1849

Summary: When the world goes to shit, in order to survive, you need to be ruthless, and you need to be prepared to do whatever it takes. When nine strangers and their families come together to fight back the zombie plague, tensions will rise between them all, threatening to pull them apart and kill them from the inside-out. It’s a shitty summary, I know. ^^

Enjoy!

The afternoon lecture had always been a slow trek to the day’s end. By this time, most students were far too exhausted and unmotivated to continue their work. Majority of them just wanted to return to their dorms or go out with friends; have some time to relax and recuperate from a long day of studying.

Mikhail didn’t often sympathise with his class, but the sluggish pace of the day had weighed him down over the hours. He felt just as tired as his class appeared to be, and beneath his eyes, he could feel the stress sinking his expression and morphing his voice to a deep mutter. He was thankful none of the class seemed to care, as it would have been an embarrassing moment of weakness.

He cleared his throat; only a few heads turning to pay attention.

‘Well, it seems the day has left us behind.’ A few of the students seemed sheepish, hiding their red faces behind their books or hands. ‘Perhaps, we will end this session early, and we can pick this up tomorrow.’ He offered the way out to his students with a tired smile.

Those that were awake, eagerly accepted.

Students hurried to gather their notes and books, tucking them away in their bags and beginning to dart with newfound energy to the exit. They offered Mikhail a hurried ‘thank you’ as they took off, or a wave if they were too lazy to speak.

The Russian stood up and rounded his own desk, heading up the line of pitched desks, beginning to awaken those that had crashed. A few leapt up, fuelled by the fear or worry of being scolded, but were relieved when he allowed them leave. Others took their time to awaken, dragging their whole weight out the door with his prompting.

It wasn’t long before the lecture hall was quiet and empty, save for Mikhail himself.

He had some paperwork he needed to complete, but he could just as easily take it home with him. He glanced up at the clock on the wall, the one that had ticked by at a snail’s pace for the last hour at least. The hour alone had felt like 12; glaringly cruel whenever one had sought comfort that the day’s end was approaching.

The time read 3:37pm.

He still had plenty of time before his engagement with a friend.

He pulled his phone out of his breast pocket; the electronic seemed frighteningly fragile in his hands. It reminded him of how his students had stared at him when they first attended his classes. His size, stature and gruff, accented voice seemed to intimidate most of them when they first met him. Many had stared at his hands in particular; scarred and calloused from Mikhail’s years of work and abuse.

Despite being a professor of literature, Mikhail seemed more the part of a hardened war veteran. It had been commented on many a time, mostly behind his back when they thought he couldn’t hear. Apparently, he scared people. Mikhail didn’t necessarily mind the thought, as being feared meant he had a modicum of respect from his students and fellow staff members.

He tapped carefully at the little buttons on his phone, watching as the screen was lit up with numbers. Finally, he pressed the call button and brought it to his ear. He waited.

One ring…

Two rings…

‘Misha!’ He felt the air in his lungs release with his relief. He was always scared of the potential that his mother or sisters would not answer the phone. Too much had happened in their family history that he was relieved when another day went by without hassle.

‘мама.’

‘It is so good to hear from you, and so soon!’ She seemed happy. That was good. ‘You don’t normally call until you are on your way home.’

‘да, well, I ended class early. Students too tired to continue.’

‘That is a shame.’ He could almost hear the pout from the other end of the line. ‘You are very smart, Misha, and I know how you love to discuss your passion.’

‘I am not upset, мама. Just frustrated. Day has been going on for far too long.’ He said, running two, thick fingers across his eyes. He could feel the dry tears in the corners of his eyes, and felt an itch as he attempted to rub the sleep away.

‘Hm… I can agree with that. Yana and Bronislava have been out all day and…’ She trailed off, his mother seemed hesitant to speak. He felt concern rise and clench deeply at his heart.

‘What happened?’

‘It’s Zhanna…’

‘Is she hurt?!’ He felt panic rising, not bothering to grab his classwork but making a move to the door so he might hurry home. Or to the hospital. Or to wherever his sister might be.

‘нет, she claims she is not hurt, my son. Not physically.’ He slowed a little, felt the panic lessening, but he kept moving. He didn’t bother to lock the lecture hall behind him, as he expected the janitors would notice in their nightly routine.

‘I’ll come home.’

‘нет. Misha… I don’t think she wants to see anyone right now.’ He stopped, and instead of worry, he felt fury beginning to boil his blood. He kept his voice low so he couldn’t be heard.

‘I will crush him.’

‘Ah, Misha, you know we cannot be doing that.’

‘He broke Zhanna’s heart.’ His eyes glanced about for any other sign of life. Apart from his own class, that he had released early, all other classrooms were still shut tight and not a soul was in the halls. ‘Little man will pay.’

‘да, he will. However, we cannot be the ones to make him pay. Zhanna loved him, and this is more than just him breaking it off with her. Mikhail…’

When she used his full name, it never meant anything good was going to be said next. He prepared himself, expecting to hear what he had heard before. The man Zhanna had taken an interest in thought her too loud, perhaps too overbearing. Maybe he was intimidated by a woman just as strong as he was and potentially taller too. Maybe an insult had been hurled her way; not uncommon but still unforgivable.

Zhanna had always been a hopeless romantic, and had sought out someone that suited her well. Instead, she tended to scare even the kindest men away, and Mikhail just didn’t understand it. She was beautiful, strong-willed and loyal to a fault.

‘She told me Peter had been feeling unwell. She had gone to see him, taking some borscht with her to liven him up.’ Always a good choice. ‘Oh Misha…’

‘What happened?’ He repeated again.

‘He hurt her… He attacked her, Misha.’

‘что?!’ He felt himself seething, clenching his free hand in rapid succession, as if squeezing an invisible stress toy. ‘He dare hurt sister?!’

‘He didn’t do much, but she came home with bruises on her arms. He even bit her hard on the hand when he grabbed her.’

CRUNCH!

He didn’t mean to break the phone in his grip, but how dare someone do something so cruel to Zhanna! She who wore her heart open, on her sleeve for all to see. She was a sensitive soul who didn’t deserve the cruelty that wicked men had lashed out with.

He didn’t have the time, or the ability, to call Dell and let him know their afternoon coffee was off. Dell knew not to worry if Mikhail was unable to come, the Texan always patient with the ups and downs the Garin family had faced over the years. He was a constant kindness in Mikhail’s life, always polite enough to just sit and listen when he could afford it.

Dell would have to wait.

He stormed quickly and with purpose through the halls towards the exit; those rare students and staff that he passed parted ways for him quickly when they noticed the oxen man move towards them. By the time he was in the parking lot, he nearly tore the door off the car itself, taking a seat within the tiny vehicle.

It creased his body and forced his spine into a hunched position. He filled up the front window almost comically, but the deathly glare in his eyes shut up any laughs from onlookers. He reversed, peeling out and into the middle of the lot, and then begun his drive home.

Through it all, the radio was tuned to the classical station; the fine sound of an orchestra helped to soothe his anger, but not deplete it entirely. The violins, by far his favourite of the instruments, almost massaged the pulsing, burning ache in his head with their lulling choir. It helped, if only a little, and if only for a short time.

As Mikhail continued his drive deeper and deeper into city streets, he started to notice an unusual hustle amongst the pedestrians. There was an unending ring of sirens as police cars and ambulances cut through the traffic, and officers attempted to redirect it down different streets.

Through it all, there was a sudden cacophony of gunshots, and screams ripped through the pedestrians as they took to the road. They hurried between the crawling automobiles, banging on windows and attempting to open doors in their haste to escape whatever was happening. One woman had latched onto Mikhail’s own car, a large, red gash across her cheek. Her lip was bleeding and her hands were scratching at his passenger door desperately, creating a fine line of white scratches across the metal.

He went to unlock the door, to allow her safety, when another person (man or woman, Mikhail couldn’t tell) half tackled her to the floor. He opened his own door, about to pull the figure off of her. That was, until they turned their head, revealing their chin and mouth stained with blood, teeth tight around a piece of flesh. The woman was still gasping, reaching out to him, eyes half-lidded as sleep threatened to take her.

‘Help…’ He could hardly hear her, especially after that creature suddenly turned on him. He leapt back, in time for the creature to miss planting its own teeth in his arm. He gripped the back of its head, large fingers tangled through its mess of hair, and planted its face to the concrete with as much force as he could muster. It was like a watermelon was crushed under his weight, as the head came apart with ease.

Blood ran down his hand and wrist. He looked down at the woman, who now laid there, unmoving. Beyond the traffic, a crowd had formed of people racing to escape the chaos. More gunshots. More screaming.

Mikhail didn’t return to his car. At the rate the traffic was moving, he wouldn’t be able to get out in time before more of those creatures came. He abandoned his vehicle, and turned to follow the road out of the city.

He had to get home.

And he had to get there soon!

#Team Fortress 2 #TF2 #TF2 Fanfiction #Heavy X Medic #Scout X Miss Pauling #Spy X Scout's Ma #Saxton Hale X Maggie #Engineer X OC #Soldier X Zhanna #Fanfiction #TF2 Fanfic #HarcourtHolmesII

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