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inmyfxith · 2 years

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The Experiment - Phase I

Pairing: None

OC: None

A/N: I've had this piece in my drafts for some time, I don't really know where it's going to go... None of the pictures belong to me, the credits go to the original owners.

Warnings: None (I think)

Words: 3 766

Phase I.2, Phase I.3

Sat on the train, your eyes could not leave the letter you had received only a week ago. A well-known technology company had chosen you to participate in an experiment that would undoubtedly change the way we see History. You had always loved to learn new things, to research and write files on different subjects. The excitement you were feeling at this moment was mixed with the worries of what you would do during this experimentation. It was unusual for you to leave your town or even your home because you were feeling safe in only a few places. And this feeling of worry increased when you arrived in front of the buildings of the enterprise. You felt small and, as you looked toward the tip of the building, a bit dizzy.

After a moment, a woman dressed in a suit walked towards you. She looked at you with her sharp eyes and, without saying a word, she moved her head, ordering you to follow her. The woman walked fast, faster than you usually did and sometimes you needed to run behind her a bit to catch up. Both of you stopped in front of a huge metallic door with a panel "Do not disturb" on it. The woman turned to face you and, like a robot, she told you to enter and sit. The door opened in another room, like a military basement, with, in the perfect middle, some chairs and a whiteboard as if it was a classroom.

With your bag tightened around your arm, you stepped forward by looking everywhere before seeing a man with a white coat approaching you.

"Miss Y/L/N, am I right? How has your journey been?" his tone was very soft and comforting as if he knew that you were nervous. He smiled at you, waiting for an answer, while you were looking at him with wide eyes.

"Long... but I'm here now." Unlike his, your voice was shaky, fluent. The man smiled again before introducing. He was in charge of the comfort of the participants, and he explained to you that, after studying your files, he knew you would be anxious by coming here alone.

"Most of the other participants have already arrived. You're going to be fed, housed, and laundered throughout the testing phase. I'll show you the place where you can rest, after such a long trip you must be exhausted." His smile. He could have made you agree on everything. And that's what you did, you agreed to follow him until a long corridor with many doors on both right and left walls. The man led you in front of one of them before giving you a bracelet with a microchip to open the door of your room and going into every room you were allowed to enter. Once into your room, the man made you a little visit of the place, it was not a big apartment but it was larger than your own. He also told you to read the different brochures about the experiment before wishing you good night and telling you that if you needed something you could ask him for everything. After a while of standing in front of the room and not knowing what to do, you sat down on the bed and picked up one of the brochures.

"Dive into History, change it, adapt it, you are the master of the situation. Ever wanted to know what would have happened if the Confederates had won the Civil War? If Attila had become emperor of Rome? Or if the American Revolution had never happened? Well today, you can change the course of history to find out."

You stopped reading, asking yourself what you would change in History and the first thing which came to your mind was the native Americans' war. Even though they were not friendly towards European people, for you, they were not responsible. European people invaded the lands where they were involved quietly with their own culture, their knowledge of plants, hunting, nature in general. So, yes, you would like to go back to 1492, put a stop to the expedition of Christopher Columbus towards the island of San Salvador and to that of Amerigo Vespucci. Your eyes focused again on the paper you were holding in your hands. "This is the chance we are offering you today. Learn differently. Experience history as you have never experienced it before." You ended up throwing the papers on the bench before going to the bathroom to take a shower. You looked at your face in the mirror, the bags under your eyes betrayed the irresistible urge you had to go to bed. You took a shower, thinking about existential questions while warm water was running along with your back before collapsing on the bed and instantly falling asleep.

You had never slept as well in a long time and when you finally woke up, the sun was getting up. Looking throughout the room, a breakfast tray was waiting for you on the small table. After eating what your stomach allowed you to, you dressed in casual clothes before going out. Once in the corridor, you passed another participant, wishing at least to know someone, you smiled at her, hoping for an answer from her, an answer that never came. So you followed her, walking a few meters away from her since she seemed to already know the way. The room that you had quickly visited last night had totally transformed, it now looked like a large classroom. You took a seat in the second row, at one end, so that you would have only one neighbor, but there were few of you compared to the number of seats. A man entered the room, wearing clothes from another time as if he had just come out of the 1950s.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for agreeing to take part in this project. Let me introduce myself, I'm professor Francis Sinclair and I'm currently working on time travel." He explained in a very confident tone. His red hair and the birthmark on the right side of his face directly caught the eye of those he was talking to. And you were no exception.

"You may be wondering why you were chosen. Well, let me answer your question without further delay. Individually, you are not ready for what you are about to do. You lack experience. However, all together, as a group, by pooling all your knowledge and skills, I am confident that you will survive." You frowned before taking a look at your new companions. They were as lost as you were.

"Did you say "survive"? Is it that dangerous?" the woman behind you asked. She was older than you according to the marks on the skin of her neck. Returning your attention to Professor Sinclair, waiting for a good answer. Hearing the question, he just smiled confidently.

"I'm pretty sure no one here will die during this experiment." A complete silence settled in the room, it was not written on the letter you received. Looking at your scared expression, he kept going. "You will be sent to a place very far from the actual era. It will be impossible for you to meet another 21st-century-man where you will be. At this time, people were fighting with guns. So yes, it will be dangerous. That's why we are going to test you, and after that, we will teach you everything you need to know to be prepared for the journey."

"What kind of tests?" The same woman asked, now looking a little more frightened. Still in a steady voice, as if he was used to receiving these kinds of questions, Professor Sinclair leaned back against his desk, arms crossed over his chest.

"You will be tested on your ability to survive in a hostile environment, your knowledge of the time period in which we intend to send you, your ability to defend yourself both verbally and physically, and finally your ability to make fair decisions to find the leaders of the various teams to be formed." Contrary to your appearance, you were a very demanding person in the way you worked. When you were in school and had to do group work, you tended to be the one who worked for the others, demanding that they do an almost exemplary and impeccable job. After this small exchange, Francis gave way to four other individuals. Two women and two men. One after the other, they introduced themselves as teachers of one of the disciplines previously stated by the professor. The atmosphere relaxed slightly, you were going to learn before you were tested.

The training lasted several weeks because none of the people invited were really ready to change times. Your favorite instructor was called Daniel, he was an expert in firearms and within a few days, he had taught you to use a double-barrelled shotgun and a revolver. Your shots were obviously not accurate and you were always a little apprehensive when your finger pulled the trigger.

Professor Sinclair followed the progress of his guinea pigs with great attention, looking for the rare pearl among you, the person who could enable him to achieve his aims. Over the weeks, you had befriended some of the participants, Sofia, a woman in her fifties of Mexican origin who came to see you first. She seemed to have a lot to say so, as you were not the type to turn people away for no reason, you listened to her stories. Her life, her children, her desire to discover the world, the receipt of her invitation, you knew everything. The second person you met was called Brian, he seemed to be about the same age as you and he was just as shy. This time it was you who made the first move, asking him how he felt and if he would be willing to team up with you and Sofia for a training session with Daniel. He didn't talk much but he was smart.

The tests came quicker than you'd expect, much like the tribal tests in The Hunger Games, each contestant had to pass a series of tests to have a chance of being one of the five people selected out of twenty contestants. The tests, of which there were six, included whether you could make a fire, shoot at stationary and moving targets, cook something drinkable from scratch, settle a dispute between two armed people, and, finally, you had to write an essay of sorts to explain why you'd like to be chosen and, more importantly, why you'd be an interesting candidate for the experiment.

Making fire in a windless warehouse in good conditions was relatively easy for you, shooting at stationary targets was easy for you, but moving targets and conflict resolution were the only two tests you failed.

While waiting for the results, each participant returned to their room, and you were no exception. Like every other day, your bed had been made, a tray with some snacks was sitting on a small table. The waiting time seemed long, yet it took the jurors only a few hours to make their choice. The man who had brought you to your room the first time came to collect you. You did not exchange any words, however, probably because of the pressure you were feeling at that moment. In the testing room, Professor Sinclair asked you to line up in order of number, which was actually the order in which you were tested. You were number 3 and therefore stood between Sofia and Brian.

"Well, first of all, I wanted to thank you all for taking our tests so easily and willingly. Some of you did better than others, I won't hide it. It is time for me to reveal to you who, among you, will be able to try the experiment." You suddenly felt very anxious, as if you had just taken an important exam and were waiting for the results.

"When I call your number, please step forward." Opening his notebook, Francis Sinclair seemed to follow a line with his fingertips.

"Number 2, 3, 9, 14, and 18." Feeling your heart give out, you took a step forward as Brian, who had also been called, was shaking beside you. So you took his hand, unambiguously. Closing his notebook with one hand, the professor gave you a warm smile through which all his excitement showed.

"Congratulations, you have been selected to participate in the experiment. Please follow Julian who will take you to the preparation room.”

So Julian was the name of the man with the charming smile who was only there for your well-being. Still holding your sidekick's hand, you gave an apologetic look to Sofia who was not lucky enough to get a seat.

The room you had been brought to had walls covered with giant screens. In the middle of the room were cinema seats on which Julian invited you to sit down and wait for Professor Sinclair to return, who appeared a few minutes later looking even more cheerful than usual.

"You have no idea how happy I am to have finally found my champions." Standing in front of the selected candidates, he clapped his hands and the room fell into darkness, leaving only the light of the screens on which images of nature were shown. It took you only a few seconds to recognize the landscape of the American West. This was your destination, the Old West.

Once you found out where you were going, things went very quickly. Francis explained that you would be split into two groups, one of three and one of two, but that you could not actually choose your partner(s). Like the large vignettes in the film Avatar, five of them were presented to you as the screens were pulled up. Julian took your hand and walked you to your capsule before helping you settle in. He then put in an IV, explaining that this is how you will be fed and hydrated throughout the experiment. Suddenly your heart started beating rapidly and you began to sweat. Seeing your condition, Julian put an oxygen mask on you to calm you down a bit. And then nothing. Your eyes closed, your body started to shake and you felt electricity running through your body.

When the sun's rays first touched the skin on your face, you frowned and then felt that something was wrong. You had a hot, heavy feeling on your stomach and when you opened your eyes, not without difficulty due to the sun's rays, you realized that the thing causing the heat was actually someone's head. Opening your eyes wide, you rested your head on the pillow. Your mind was in a total mess when you also realized that you were not in your room anymore, everything was old, even the smell. You looked at your hands to see if you were in a dream before pinching your arms but nothing happened. Suddenly, you noticed a man sitting against the wall in front of the bed. You couldn’t see his face because his head was down but his clothes weren’t as old as the decoration of the room, he was wearing normal clothes for the 21st century and the man on the bed too. You tried to move without waking him up but when you managed to push him a bit, the man rolled before falling on the ground, making a lot of noise and waking up him and the other man at the same time. The man on the ground touched his head before complaining and standing up. He froze when he saw you on the bed and you exchanged worried gazes before turning to the other that you admitted to being Brian.

“Where am I?” the man asked while walking through the room looking for any clues. You stayed quiet while the two men were looking around them. He finally introduced himself as Chris Crawford and you looked at him with a suspicious look. Brian sat on the corner of the bed, visibly confused by the situation while you approached one of the windows of the room. Then you exclaimed to yourself that you had found something interesting.

“I know where we are, look at the general store, we are in Valentine.” You realized while you were talking that it was a good and a bad thing at the same time. You were three modern people in the late 19th century, the way of life was different, the laws were different. You were risking being shot in every corner of the streets. Chris took the information with less worry than you, he felt like it was the right time to become an outlaw, to have glory and money. Brian, stayed sitting on the bed, his eyes were empty, he began to feel a small pain in his stomach due to stress. You all suddenly heard a supplication in the room next to you, you were in the hostel of Valentine. You began to search for money in every corner of the room, you needed money to survive and to go unnoticed. You opened a chest of drawers and found some clothes just for you.

You forced the men to wait in front of the door of the room while you put your clothes on. You felt naked with your new clothes, they did not stick to your skin and your new underwear was too loose. You had to wear a corset, maybe the only thing that came close to a bra. When you opened the door to the boys outside, Chris laughed when he saw you before pushing you outside to clothe himself.

You looked at Brian, a bit confused and ashamed by your getup and you asked him if you were really ridiculous.

“No.. you’re… perfect for the late 19th century”

Brian turned his head to prevent you from seeing that he was blushing. He was not used to other people talking to him. You settled against the wall. Chris eventually got out of the room after several minutes, dressed in a black costume of a businessman of the time. You smiled and told Brian that it was his turn to get dressed. The man entered the room and got out a few minutes later. He was dressed like a worker, with a blue shirt and suspenders to hold his pants a little too huge for him. His boots were covered in dirt but he didn’t seem unhappy with his outfit. You asked them if they had found any coins or something like money and when they searched for it, you eventually found a little card with a name in your pocket, your new names. You were Jean, Brian was James and Chris was William. Then Chris pulled out a little purse full of hard-hitting coins before exclaiming.

"Alright girls, time to explore the world."

In the corridor, you passed women of little virtue, who did not fail to try their luck with Chris, who, from what you saw, would have been willing to follow them if you had not been there. Walking down the stairs of the hotel, you heard voices in the lobby. The owner of the place was probably welcoming a guest. You waved goodbye to him, to which he replied with a smile and a nod before you left the hotel. The air was relatively cool so you concluded that it must still be morning. The street was muddy and the population did not seem to be very rich.

"What is more interesting, a horse or food?" You asked as you spotted the stable on your left. But the two men seemed interested in something else. Indeed, the noise was emanating from what appeared to be a saloon.

As you approached the place, the noise became more distinct and sounded like a drunken fight. When a man was thrown out of the saloon window, Brian got shards of glass in one of his eyes. As he held his face, you helped him sit on the saloon steps as two men fought in the rain. Like most people watching the fight, Chris was captivated by what was happening. So captivated that he didn't even care about the condition of his partner. Three men came out of the saloon through the door before settling down to watch the fight in turn. Entangled in your petticoats, you turned to one of them in an attempt to get help and to have him point you to the nearest doctor. He looked at you with a frown before telling you in a nonchalant voice that he was not at your service. Slightly disconcerted by his answer, you looked at him in confusion before one of his comrades answered you a little more kindly. He was tall, much taller than you, and much broader in the shoulders. You couldn't really tell from his attire whether he was a black man or a Native American. Putting his arm around Brian's shoulders, he helped him to his feet before leading him across the street. You thanked him warmly before entering Dr. Ben Calloway's office.

Much of your "savings" went into medical expenses but at least Brian was back on his feet. However, he had actually felt the pain, which made you slightly worried about the future of the experiment.

With almost no money left to buy a horse, you set out to leave town on foot against Chris' wishes, who was convinced that adventure lay in Valentine. After crossing the tracks near the station, you continued along a dirt road dotted with grass. But as you could no longer see the town and had left the track path, Brian began to complain about his eyes. No one was around to help you.

Helping him sit on a rock to keep him from falling, you thought you heard someone sneeze. You walked through the woods before coming face to face with a young man who almost instantly pointed his gun at you.

He seemed almost as panicked as you were. You put your hands up before explaining that you were not a threat, that you needed help because one of your friends was injured. Calling out to one of his comrades, he glared at you before a man, much older than him, joined you. He looked tired and yet he listened to your complaint carefully.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption 2 #hosea matthews #bill williamson #charles smith #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 imagines #dutch van der linde #sean macguire #susan grimshaw #lenny summers #abigail marston #john marston #jack marston #sadie adler

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lovelywingsart · 3 years

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Turning Cogs

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/Her) --

Remember 'Apologies'? Well, this is more or less a type of 'follow-up'! Over 20 years later. I may also make a small timeline, or an explanation post about it, but anyway-

This was also a cute fun one, and my favorite right next to 'Chase'. I just... I love cute things for them... I need more cute things for them. It makes me feel a little better.

Please, please don't hate me for what's coming next. (That is, IF I choose to post it immediately after this... I may wait a bit until another story or two is up...)

**Remember, check out the Masterlist for more! <3 **

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*Warning?: Cute sappy shit, read at your own risk eue

Summary: A 'task' given years ago leads to a small solution near the end of the line. Emmy has a gift! But what is it? What significance will it hold? Alot more than she thinks, that's for sure!

The factory ran smoothly, production went on as usual, and the hope of freedom permeated the air as the date of the 'revolution' drew near. A few days... It was only a few days. Supposedly, at least. Emelia found herself simply wandering the factory at times, much like Heisenberg himself. Sure, she worked, but it often helped ease her mind of the now constant nervous jitters she found herself experiencing. But she now currently walked with a purpose, making her way to the notorious metal man with an eager hop in her step.

As she wandered the halls, she mused to herself how great all of this had become. The factory, the creations, even the small 'bond' she shared with the man who ran it all. It wasn't much of one, she thought, but recently it had become almost... like a dream. Like an odd, welcoming dream after their talk some weeks ago. He tried... He actually did try, she noticed. After so many years, she had come know the man very well, and the small changes he had made in just a few weeks time were highly evident. She enjoyed them... Thoroughly, at that. He didn't even change himself, and it wasn't a forced change. It was... Natural.

As if the changes were being held back for years.

She found herself smiling more with him. Smiling and genuinely enjoying herself, even laughing at times when they were alone. Even the mechanical menaces didn't prove to be much of an issue lately... Even as she wandered past, the creatures simply ignored her. Sure, she was still somewhat worried about the upcoming events, but she found it easier to keep her mind off of them and relax when he was around. It was wonderful, really.

She made her way to the upper levels after a while with just the smallest bit of excitement. A small jingling in her pocket could be heard as she jogged to the elevator that boosted that feeling, and she couldn't help but smile again. She knew what the sound was... She had been thinking about the small items for years. Literal years. She kept them with her at times ever since he had given her the task well over 20 years ago, and they hadn't left her mind since. Only recently had she finally had an idea for them, and while she had initially considered it a little dumb, it was the only thing she could think of. She just hoped he would agree.

She stepped off the elevator as it creaked to a stop, making her way through more doors and halls until she finally made it to a gold and copper encased door with the 'family' crest in the middle. She paused before opening the door, running her hand along the impression of the stallion that adorned the crest. She had to admit, she had grown fond of it over the years... Knowing that it was coming to a glorious 'end' only filled her with more eagerness as she pressed her palm to the horses nose and opened the door. She was met with an echoing, deep hum of a quiet song. It was one that she recognized, and she couldn't help but join the hum as she rounded the corner. The other hum paused for only a moment, followed by a light chuckle before it continued, now with quiet words.

As she finally reached the personal workshop, she was met with Heisenberg slightly hunched over his work table, a pencil in his hands and small metal objects 'dancing' around him lazily as he sung their tune. Despite the small scraps, he was relatively calm, tilting his head as she approached. His singing only stopped with a chuckle as she casually wrapped her arms around his chest, pressing her face to the back of his neck. It was a common gesture going both ways, and she felt a scarred hand reached to hold her arm.

"Hello there." He mused, turning his head slightly.

"Why did you stop singing?" Emelia asked, being met with a chuckle.

"Because you're in the room now."

"Would you like me to leave then?"

"No, I think prefer you right here." Heisenberg chuckled, finally turning in her arms to face her. He simply leaned back against the table, wrapping one arm around her waist while using the other to direct the scraps to float around them. "Is there something you needed?"

She watched the scraps flutter as if they were moths, tilting her head slightly.

"I came to tell you something. Or... 'give', rather." She said simply, her eye moving to meet his as she leaned against him. He raised a brow in interest.

"Oh?" He said, pausing his hand movements for a moment. "And what could you possibly have to give me?"

She couldn't help but give a small smile, carefully taking a step back, careful not to hit one of the scraps.

"Do you remember that... 'task' years ago? With the defect cogs?"

He watched her for a moment, light confusion entering his features. The cogs... Cogs?? Wait, those cogs??? She couldn't have POSSIBLY meant THOSE cogs. He vaguely remembered the situation, and his nose scrunched.

"Emmy, that was... That was how long ago??" He said, crossing his arms slightly.

"A few years..."

"A few??"

"Ok, more than a few. But that's besides the point." She shook her head reaching into her pocket almost hesitantly. "I believe I found something for them..."

Heisenbergs brows raised in legitimate surprise.

"You what???" He asked, slowly lowering the scraps to the floor as Emelia took hold of something In her pocket. He shook his head. "There... You couldn't have. That task was a joke. A test to see what you would do under stress."

"Well, I didn't take it as one." She shrugged. "You're a sneaky twit, Heisenberg. I wasn't going to let an obvious trick sway me."

"It seemed to 'sway' you back then." He smirked lightly, nearly laughing at the sudden redness that entered her cheeks as vivid memories played in her mind. She rolled her eye and pulled her hand out, her fist curled around something.

"'Tricks' aside, I never stopped thinking about it, and I've finally thought of something." She said, ignoring the knowing chuckle he gave. She cleared her throat slightly, looking at her hand. "Just... promise you won't laugh."

"Why would I ever laugh at you, Emelia?" He mused, only to chuckle again and hold up his arms as she glared at him. "Alright, alright, I'm done. What did you think of?"

"Well..." she started, taking a breath. "I was looking at them, and the holes went all the way through to the other sides, and had some other small ones. They were pretty useless for most things I could come up with, but..."

She opened her hand, letting something fall and clink together- hanging from her fingers were the cogs, each carefully welded to three smaller cogs and wrapped with thin, copper wire, with a thick, black string through the main defective holes. Each main cog held a small bit of red stone in the middle, adding a small bit of color to the otherwise metallic items. She brought them slightly closer to her chest, a deeper blush forming on her face as she watched Heisenbergs eyes widen with simultaneous surprise and interest. Emelia cleared her throat slightly.

"I, um... I'm not the best or most creative, I suppose... and I had the string Donna gifted me, with some of the glass pieces from the Reservoir... I found the wire pieces around here..." she managed, looking at the small necklaces. "It's... It's not much..."

She fell silent for a moment, looking up at the man in front of her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face held a strange mixture of emotion as he held out a hand, beckoning her forward. She held out the hand with the necklaces as she moved, swallowing hard as his fingers gingerly went behind one of the pieces and brought it forward to inspect it.

"... You actually made these?" He asked. She nodded.

"Just some minor welding and scrap melts for the smaller ones..." she replied quietly, watching as his eyes seemed to inspect every small detail. She then frowned slightly. "I... I-I'm sorry, it's... They're stupid-"

"No, no... Not stupid..." he said quietly, now holding both. Each of the smaller cogs were made of different mixed materials, providing an interesting effect once they hit the light. "They're... Impressive."

She perked up slightly.

"Really...?"

He nodded.

"Why are there two?" He asked, glancing up at her with interest. She worked her jaw slightly.

"I... I thought maybe... um..." she tried, avoiding his gaze. "I thought... perhaps... we could each have one... maybe?" She managed, her voice quiet.

There was silence for a few moments, and she could feel his gaze as he fully looked at her. It wasn't until he chuckled that she looked at him, surprised to see a grin on his face.

"Brilliant idea, Emmy." He said, trailing one of the strings up to where her hand held them to carefully remove one from her grip. She stared at him.

"... Really?"

"Sure!" He chuckled, bringing the one he held close to his face to look over it once more. "May I ask what the inspiration was?"

"I... didn't really have one..." she replied, only to go rigid as he reached forward and took hold of her arm to pull her closer.

"Hm." He gave a hum, looking at her once more. "I'd say your pretty creative, Emmy, not even I could think of this."

"It only took me 20 years..." she managed to joke, tilting her head as he held the string open on the necklace he held. "What are you doing-"

She stopped as he reached forward, her face heating up as he simply rested the necklace around her own neck. She looked down as his hands traced the string, caressing the small gears before resting it against her chest.

"I think it suits you." Heisenberg chuckled, holding his hands to the side as if he had achieved something grand with slipping it on. Emelia couldn't help but give a light snort, keeping her eye on it.

"I suppose so..." she replied simply, her eye moving to the one she still held. She was quiet for a moment before taking a breath, doing the same with the second necklace.

She turned it and held it up to his head, opening the string. He was still as she managed to slip it around his own neck, nearly chuckling with amusement as she watched it rest against the necklaces he already wore. She took her hands away, tilting her head as she looked at it. It didn't look TOO odd against the other items...

"Suits you, too..." she said quietly, her hands resting along his chest. He nearly laughed.

"Well congratulations, your task is complete. I'll be damned." He snorted, finally setting his hands on her hips. "Good work."

"You're just saying that..." she chuckled, looking up at him. He shrugged.

"I mean it." He suddenly gave a genuine smile. One she could see in his eyes, and it made her breath catch in her throat. "Thank you, Emelia."

She couldn't help but return the smile, slowly wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. He returned the action, his arms surrounding her waist as he pressed his face to her shoulder.

"You're an odd one, Emmy." He nearly whispered.

She could feel his smile against her skin as she chuckled, resting her chin on his own shoulder.

"So are you, Heisenberg." She replied. "You're the oddest one of them all."

"Ah, I beg to differ." He chuckled, using his hand to raise the small scraps from before into the air again, twirling his finger slightly to make them circle the two slowly. Emelia kept her smile, turning her head to bury her face into his neck.

"Beg then, Metalhead."

"Hm." He hummed, pressing a light kiss to the side of her neck. "I think I will."

She lifted her head to question, only to let out a surprised yelp as he suddenly hoisted her over his shoulder.

"Karl!!!"

"Aht aht, no fighting!" He chimed, amused as she started to squirm before he began walking to the side door of the workshop. She only stopped squirming momentarily with a surprised laugh as he pinched her side.

"The bloody hell are you doing?!" She tried, unable to hide her own amusement as he kicked open the door and went down the small hall leading to the 'living quarters'.

"Guess this really does make you the 'lady' of the factory then, yeah?" He joked. She squirmed again, earning another pinch.

"Call- HEY- C-Call me a 'lady' again and see what happens...!!" She laughed, only to nearly stumble back as he suddenly heaved her down, holding into him to keep her balance. She was met with a quick kiss, keeping the smile on her face.

"Fine then, the 'wench' of the factory." He joked, letting out his own laugh as she smacked his shoulder.

"That's even worse you twit!"

"Ah, no need for that, Emmy!"

He nudged her forward, giving another quick kiss before she nearly fell over as the edge of the bed hit the back of her legs.

"Are you mad?!" She laughed, nearly falling back as he nudged her again. Instead she just flopped back, holding out her arms for him as he crawled over her with a chuckle.

"I was planning on taking a break anyway." He replied simply before falling to his side next to her. She chuckled as his arms suddenly went around her, bringing her tightly to his chest.

"I still have work to do!" She argued, though didn't actively try to get away. Instead, she cuddled to his chest as he snorted.

"Doesn't seem like you're all too concerned about it, Doll."

"Maybe because you're warmer than the Foundry."

"I'll take that at a compliment."

"As you should."

She couldn't help but relax in his arms, her gaze drifting to the gear necklace around his neck. It made her feel... proud. Proud and another feeling she couldn't quite pin down. She reached up and caressed it lightly, feeling as he looked down.

"You really like them...?" She asked quietly, only to jump as he cupped her chin and had her look at him.

"I love them." He replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Stay here for a while, we'll get back to work soon."

She was silent with a smile, nodding and nuzzling under his chin carefully before wrapping her own arm around him.

"Fine... I get to decide the next break time, then." She said. He chuckled.

"It's a deal."

#resident evil #resident evil village #re8 #resident evil oc #resident evil village oc #re8oc #resident evil village fanfiction #karl heisenberg #lord heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #karl heisenberg x oc #lovelywingsart #lovelywingsocs #Metalworks fanfiction #heisenberg fanfiction

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topherfoxtrot · 3 years

Text

Thunderbolts: The hulk's personal protection team

Hey, here's the second episode of my fanon thunderbolts. Since last episode Emil Blonsky escaped from his imprisonment. He's probably going after the Hulk, right? John, Ava, Yelena, Justin and the mysterious Contessa Valentina attend to a presentation Bruce Banner is giving at MIT to find out. This one is more comedy leaned. It wasn't a conscious choice, it just sort of happened. But I'm glag it did. If you enjoy your read please like, share or comment something :D

Valentina hated those heels but something inside of her made she wear them anyways, even on grass. She was going first and foremost. Justin Hammer was right behind her jumping in excitement and giving a lot of useless yet interesting facts about MIT lore and culture. The rest of the thunderbolts were there too. John was wearing a cap and a 5 o'clock beard. Ava was wearing a huge gray sweater as she usually did. Yelena was rocking a leather jacket. For all purposes they did look like a group of college students.

"This place is huge!" Ava looked around, "I wish I went to college."

"What would you do?" John asked.

"I don't know. Anything except quantum physics I guess!" Ava laughed.

"I knew a quantum physics guy once." Justin thought out loud.

"Yeah you knew everyone." Yelena rolled her eyes, "You told that already. We been knew."

"Hey, no need to be so harsh. Your new equipment is my property and I can reclaim them at any time, remember?"

"Oh yeah I haven't used the tasers yet. Wanna help me out with that?" Yelena smirked.

"Behave, children." Valentina intervened, "We want doctor Banner to have a good first impression about us. Specially after the Blosnky incident." She side eyed Ava.

The campus was packed with people of all ages and all around the country and possibly the whole world too. There have been a lot of workshops and seminars the whole week, but today's main event was special: Bruce Banner was gonna give a presentation on the applications of biochemistry in robotics. Apparently the robot dogs running around campus were testing an engine that doesn't need gasoline or electric energy to work.

"I've seen those dogs before." John was reading an informative folder, "I don't think building them to never sleep is a good idea."

"I have a history of dangerous applications of robotics and I agree." Justin cleaned his glasses. The microfiber cloth had his name on it. "It can get out of hand rather quickly!"

"Now that I think about it Bruce Banner also has a history of dangerous applications of robotics." Yelena pointed out, "Y'all remember Ultron?"

"Mistakes are learning opportunities. I mean, not for them I guess." Valentina sighted, "Trust me those super idiots are always making mistakes and they never learn!" She said that last part in a loud whisper.

The presentation was supposed to happen at 4pm so they got there one hour earlier as the Contessa wanted. Doctor Banner was in the auditorium already. His big hands were setting the projector and his eyes were studying the obnoxiously small papers scattered across the table. As usual, the heels Valentina was wearing announced her presence.

"Doctor Banner." She greeted him formally.

"Hello." He analyzed her quickly, "How can I help you..? And you?" He looked at the thunderbolts arriving with the Contessa.

"Well, you see." Valentina took off her sunglasses, "It might actually be the other way around. We are the ones who are here to help."

"Oh." Bruce changed his posture to pay full attention at the lady.

"We are the thunderbolts and we are here to protect you Doctor Banner."

"Protect... me?" Bruce tried to sound polite.

"We have privileged information that confirms you might be in danger, man!" Justin put himself in front of Valentina, "We don't want to scare you or anything but the Abomination scaped his imprisonment!"

Bruce's eyes opened wide suddenly. It's been fifteen years since he saw Emil Blonsky. And as time passed by he caught himself thinking about the man less and less. Now however this distant memory became an immediate danger.

"Should I cancel the..?"

"No, of course not Doctor Banner!" Valentina waved her hand as if the whole situation was nothing but a little annoyance, "You can carry on with your presentation. The Thunderbolts are here to protect you. Also, my name is Valentina Allegra de La Fontiane, Contessa Valentina de La Fontiane. It's a lot to remember I know but don't worry, I'm hard to forget."

"Okay. The.. hm, thunderbolts." He looked at the weird bunch, "Hey aren't you the new Captain America?" He asked.

John looked down and then looked to the roof real quick, "I'm not Captain America anymore." He said between his teeth.

"Yeah there's a new new Captain America now." Valentina rolled her eyes, "But that's not important now, is it? We'll just sit here and wait for the presentation to be over. How about that?"

Bruce didn't trust the team quite yet, but he trusted himself to be his own protection so it was no big deal. Still, as the thunderbolts took their sits at the end of the room, Bruce grabbed his cellphone to check if Emil was really out. There was nothing on the news or on twitter which meant that either Valentina was lying or the government was hiding this information really well. Both options were equally plausible in Bruce's eyes so he decided to roll with it.

***

When the presentation started the lights went out. Yelena, Ava, John, Justin and Valentina were sitting on the last set of chairs. At some point Valentina got up to get a phonecall. John whispered to not disturb the presentation:

"So...who is she?"

"What do you mean?" Justin asked, also quietly.

"This... Contessa. I don't know. Her." He pointed at the exit door she just left through.

"Haven't you read the card?" Ava asked.

"What card? You mean the blank card? The one with nothing written on it?"

"It was written with invisible ink." Yelena clarified.

"Invisible ink?" John couldn't believe his own words.

"John that's the oldest trick in the book." Justin seemed interested in the presentation, "Espionage 101."

"I was black ops...!" John sounded offended. Someone shushed them so they stayed in silence for a while. Ava felt bad for John though.

"It doesn't matter if you read it or not." She whispered, "It's not like there was any key information there. It was just her name and this weird lightning symbol."

"The thunderbolts!" Justin whispered back.

"So.. us?" John asked.

"That's what it seems." Yelena looked around with no sign of the Contessa, "But who are we?"

"Didn't she explain anything to you guys?" Justin asked.

"No! Did she explain anything to you?"

"I mean, no."

"What?" Ava asked a little louder than intended.

"She just said she would sponsor my projects so I was immediately on board." Justin justified himself, "I just assumed you were more into her deal than I was."

"I can't believe I fell for another pyramid scheme." Ava sighted

"Another?" John asked.

Someone shushed them again, more aggressively this time.

"Excuse me who do you think you are to shush me??" Justin whispered as loud as he could.

"Hammer, sit down!" Yelena ordered.

"Not, let's see what this fella has to say!" Justin grabbed his cellphone to use as a flashlight, but that was not necessary because the lights turned on out of sudden. The robot dogs entered the room as part of the presentation and everyone clapped and cheered at them. Justin sat down again and straighten his blazer aggressively.

The robot dogs did some flips and silly dances. Their "skin" was transparent so it was possible to see all fluids and engines working inside. Everyone was having a good time except Justin, John and Yelena. Something about the dogs and the claps made John unsettled. Yelena felt the same. They looked at each other looking for some guidance. That's when the shots were fired.

A few people from the crowd got up wearing balaclava masks and wielding machine guns. The robot dogs positioned themselves, one on each side of every seat row. The chemicals inside them started to bubble in a menacing way. A man from the first seat now in balaclava got closer to Hulk with a shotgun aimed at his head.

"Hello everyone!" The man screamed, "We are only here for the money. If everyone cooperates, no one gets hurt."

The criminals started to walk around the room with huge bags stealing rings, watches, wallets and all sorts of jewelry.

"There's twelve of them." Yelena whispered.

"How much you can take?" John analyzed the room with her.

"Without getting shot? A few. But the dogs seem to be time bombs."

"Yeah there's too many people here. We have to think this through!" Ava stated.

"Oh my god is that Ant-Man??" Justin screamed pointing at Ava's feet.

"What? Where?" Ava got up on a jump. The men started shooting at her but she phased around the bullets out of reflex. That was just the distraction Justin needed to run into the exit door Valentina went through minutes ago.

"Fucking Hammer!" Yelena grunted before jumping to the ground. A nearby dog jumped to attack her but she quickly applied a jiujitsu move that made the dog fly above her. The fluids inside the robot started to shine in a weird way. John jumped across the seats and kicked the robot to the roof where it exploded. The roof suffered some damage but no enough to fall. No one got hurt. Except the dog whose metallic remains fell onto the ground.

John landed beside Yelena to check on her. Ava made herself invisible and visible again more times than the nearest criminal could comprehend. When Ava reached him she grabbed him by the back and used him as a human shield. Her hand phased into his neck in a lethal threat.

"Nobody shoots no one and no bloody dog explodes!" She demanded.

Everyone in the auditorium hold their breath together. Bruce seemed to be having fun. Yelena and John remained on the ground watching everything in anticipation. Ava had declared a temporary negotiating time, but for how long?

Suddenly breaking the absolute silence the auditorium was emerged in music started to come out of the speakers on the wall. Even the criminals looked around confused to the sound of "U can't touch this". When MC Hammer sang the iconic 'Hammer time!' the exit door exploded and among the smoke Justin Hammer emerged with a shield, three tasers, a shotgun and bunch of flash grenades. He took his right hand to the sky to show his car keys in triumph.

"He went out to get our stuff from the car trunk." John said in denial.

"Fucking Hammer!" Yelena screamed again (with a smile this time) before running to his direction. John came right after.

The criminals started shooting at Justin, who jumped to the ground scattering everything he brought with him. Ava let go of her human shield and disappeared. Yelena grabbed her tasers and John grabbed his shield. They both got up ready for action. The criminals started shooting and John instinctively projected the shield in front of them while Yelena got closer to him.

"Hey, it even looks like we rehearsed it!" Yelena said, smiling.

John also gave her a smile. Without realizing it he offered his arm for a forearm pump like he used to do with an old friend. Yelena forearm pumped him and jumped back into action. John smiled even brighter.

What happens next is just incredible. John's shield ricochet's throughout the whole auditorium at his will. Ava phases through and disarms everyone fast. Even with no powers Yelena runs around quickly dodging bullets and immobilizing the criminals. Justin cheered for them just alright. But he also turned off the robot dogs and used some of the flash grenades when necessary.

At the end of the showdown all the criminals were gathered at the podium. Bruce scrubbed his hands with a pride smile as if he did something at all. The gesture clarified that the threat was indeed neutralized so all the people in the crowd got up and started clapping at them. Justin waved his hands with a bright smile.

"Come on guys, it's the least we could do."

"What is happening?" Ava grabbed her arms is a slight self hug.

"Don't you see?" Hulk whispered to her, "You're the heroes!"

The sentence made John move his shoulders awkwardly. We are the heroes!, He whispered to himself. Yelena giggled because she totally heard that. She grabbed one of John's hands and one of Ava's hands and curved to the crowd as if they were actors in a play. Ava and John looked at each other and decided to bound as well. The cheers went louder.

The Contessa finally came back. She looked worried.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"We are the heroes, Val!" Justin winked at her before grabbing John's shield and bound as well.

#john walker #john walker positive post #thunderbolts #ava starr #yelena belova #justin Hammer #valentina allegra de fontaine #bruce banner #FoxtrotFanfic

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professional-benaddict · 4 years

Note

Hello lovely! Wanted to wish you luck on your tests and leave you some gifts for the same reason that people eat chocolate before an examination.

(based on the new pics that popped up, it's trending on here)

Peter's always been slim, a miniature version of your average superhero with a small stature and slender limbs. But he's, well, not exactly buff yet take those sweaters off and you could dunk him in ivory paint and bam! A marble statue crafted from Michaelangelo.

An anatomy student could study the muscles of the body easily with Peter, body accustomed to a rigorous training of saving civilians and catching stray cars out of the air. So yeah. The guy's strong and he's slim but well built.

Which means that Tony has to work out if he's gonna carry Queens around. Steve, Bucky and Sam, the bastards, can swoop in and throw his baby over their shoulder before breaking out in a sprint. They have, actually.

Strange just has to whirl, hell, twitch slender hands and look, his 'protege' is gasping because oh my god Mr Strange, I'm flying!

He's not even gonna think about Wanda and Vision in this case, his blood pressure will rise and keep rising.

Tony's the only 'normal' human around (he's not an enhanced soldier, nor a trained spy, certainly not a military guy) and that leads to the horrible realization that shit, he has to work out.

It takes him months to get ready, months of exercising at the gym and wolfing down what's healthy (and maybe a few things that aren't, it was late at night and he was hungry, sue him) in an attempt at being romantic.

Because come on. He's Iron Man, he doesn't need to do this any more than Cap has to tinker with quantum mechanics.

He's doing this exclusively for Peter and for the chance of passing by a window and catching sight of all his hard work tucked inside a Hugo Boss suit.

It takes the billionaire a long time but he's finally ready. Friday helps him time it perfectly, AI softly welcoming Peter home after a day of overwhelming classes. The boy's got the plaid shirt that most definitely doesn't shelter him from the cold tugged half way down his arms, a bagel clutched between cute teeth when Tony siddles up to his favorite crime fighting spider.

He kisses a trembling nape, murmurs at their babysitter to kick up the temperature, ready the bath with bubbles and lavender oil because there's no way Peter will stay this cold when there's a perfectly good apartment at his disposal. Peter sinks into him, nuzzles his neck tenderly and oh ok, that's really all it takes for the arc reactor to burn just a bit brighter, metal doing odd things whenever the futile heart nearby beats faster.

Tony pulls the remaining clothes off, pushes thoughts of inadequacy aside when he sees his sweetheart laid bare. (He's not worthless, Tony deserves this person, this person loves him too, it's fine, he's fine, he's worth it-) The kid is trying to get him moving down the hall but nope, not today.

Ok, one, two, three. He crouches, wraps an arm around Pete's waist and the other goes towards strong things he absolutely loves to bite and kiss. And up.

No procrastinating here, oh no, not when his joints ache and creak angrily at him. Can Tony carry his baby to the bathroom? Yeah. Will his body be a tad sore today and tomorrow morning? Yes. Just, yes.

Peter's looking down, staring at the floor as if his head is still valiantly matching all the information and discovering that it makes no sense for Tony Stark to lift him bridal style to the bath tub.

There's a chance Peter's stopped breathing, based on the barely perceptible rise of a flat chest. Well, that's certainly good. He carefully lowers Peter down into the warm water, makes sure none of his limbs get knocked against extravagantly wide metal.

They spend ten minutes in silence, Peter moving around only to help Tony bathe him with the softest loofah ever made. The billionaire is fine with it, glad his lover can sort of shutdown when he feels safe with Tony. By the time they're done, Peter looks ready to topple over from sleep.

He urges him up, pats now deliciously warm skin dry with Pete's favorite white towel that's fluffier than the kid's hair.

"Up, there we go, baby. Hold onto me, such nice toes, I love them. There, all done. No need to be embarrassed, Pete. I love every single limb, including the cutest feet I've ever seen."

Tony throws the towel in the hamper and crouches again. This time, Peter curls his own hands around him, long fingers firm on shoulders that still ache from yesterday's work out.

It's worth it though, the sore muscles, when Peter sticks him to the bed with glinting webs, slender body mimicking a koala's.

"So the lifting is ok?"

"More than ok. I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna be walking around the tower any time soon when I have my own chauffeur."

"Come here, you little brat. Personal chauffeur, that's why I gave you a Stark car. Wait, shit, that's for your birthday. No, Peter, don't go to the basement. Friday, stop him. Underoos, you better pretend to be surprised unless you want me to never again carry you. I wanna se genuine excitement and surprise on August. Stop climbing the walls and get over here, dammit. Dissolve this so I can hug you and smother you until you forget about the car. Come on, under the blankets. See, was that so hard, Mr Impatient?"

(He doesn't forget the car but he lights up on his birthday anyway, laughs like a little kid when Tony carries him to the brand new vehicle, sunglasses doing absolutely nothing to hide the billionaire's smug glee from the other Avengers. It's fine, he likes when Tony's so obviously proud of having Peter by his side. Or, more accurately, on Tony's front.)

ABSOLUTE PERFECTION💗💗💗

#sophia sweetheart #starker #tony stark x peter parker #ask

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patchoulimademoiselle · 4 years

Text

Bat Shit Crazy (Part 1)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: language, sub/dom dynamic, large age gap, smut, choking kink, violence/fighting, injuries/blood, hypersexual reader, mentions of death?

Summary: Bucky is back from a mission he was sent on without you. He works hard to get you back on your routine.

Notes: This fic is dark, and it only gets darker. This is more Winter Soldier Bucky in terms of behavioral traits and dynamics with other characters. This is not a soft lovey dovey style fic, and if that bothers you DO NOT READ.

Masterlist

Part One:

The night is young, the summer air is humid, you've swapped out your jeans for a pair of fray end shorts, tennis shoes scuffing against the pavement as you shuffle your feet, waiting.

You've been craving a bit of freedom, some wind in your hair, something intoxicating in your system, and that led you right to Tony Stark. You batted your eyelashes the best you could, pretty please, can we borrow your car for the night? Honestly, you don't have a plan. All you know is that you feel suffocated sitting around on base. You feel old, tired, missing and craving the feeling of adrenaline in your veins.

So as soon as the jet returns to HQ, you're grabbing Bucky by the collar of his shirt and dragging him out to the sight of a bright orange Audi that makes him groan in disbelief. A knowing look graces his features, and he almost feels bad for the guy. Because if there's anything you're good at, it's getting your way, and Bucky had basically signed himself up for it. But Stark? He had no idea what you were truly capable of.

"I'm not going to ask how you managed to get it," He says, hand catching your waist and pulling you to stop before you can get inside, "But I am going to ask, where are we going?"

He's still in his tactical gear, a gun on his hip, dirt and blood smeared across his skin, he smells like gun powder and sweat, and you can't resist the urge to just kiss him. So you do, hands in his hair, pulling him down into a searing kiss that pulls a strangled sound from the back of his throat. He hasn't seen you in days, and he's more exhausted than he's used to being. But he can tell you're restless, the chaos in your bones convincing you to basically seduce Stark and take his car to do who knows what in the cover of night. He's just glad that you decided to bring him along.

"For a ride." Is all you offer, letting him hike your leg up around his waist. "I missed you."

"I know." His voice sounds wrecked, laced with exhaustion and arousal, and you almost feel bad for keeping him up even longer, because who knows what he just came back from. But you're too excited to turn back now, dangling the keys in front of his face, his grin just as wicked as yours as he kisses you one last time.

"I want to go first, you can drive on the way back."

When you get in the drivers seat and press the button to start the engine, you get why people collect cars like this. The feeling of power, the sense of danger, it's intoxicating, and you start to feel a little breathless when you rev the engine.

Bucky can see it click in your head, he can see the exact moment that you decide that this might be taking it too far.

There's a wicked glint in your eyes when you turn to look at him. "Oh," You laugh, "I've created a monster."

His eyebrows furrow, fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you away from the wheel, half bent over the console. "I would prefer it if you didn't get us both killed, so you take it easy, understand?" Because he knows. He knows you could say fuck it all just for the thrill of it.

You click your tongue, "You're no fun." You pout, watching as his eye twitches, a weakness, "But that's okay. I'm sure you'll figure out how to make it up to me."

He smiles at that, and you aren't sure if it's pride or love that has him grabbing your chin and forcing you to look in his eyes. You're a smart mouthed fool, and he knows that you probably got most of your attitude from him. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You can start with fucking me on every surface of this car before we give it back tomorrow morning."

He hums, kissing you once, twice, unable to pull away because he likes the look in your eyes, he likes that you're this comfortable with him, young and wild and trusting him not to judge you. It's harmless fun, he understands, the tedious schedule you follow everyday is eating away at your youth. So he indulges you, letting you put the windows down and drive just a little more recklessly than he should.

The shriek of laughter that comes from your throat is worth the risk, his hand gripping your thigh, watching as you change your grip on the steering wheel. The wind blows your hair, flushes your cheeks, and its a reflex more than anything else when he fishes his phone out to take a picture of you.

This is what you both live for. Moments like this where nothing else matters. You have each other, you've found a perfect medium between work and play, and it works out better than you could have ever imagined.

Keeping up with you is like pulling teeth sometimes, because Bucky just doesn't care as much as you do. He figured that you would be better suited with someone who is equally as high maintenance as you, someone like Tony Stark. The expensive taste and busy schedule could only be understood by someone who lives that lifestyle.

But behind the perfume and lip gloss, beneath the eyelash extensions and layers of designer clothing, chaos awaits. It makes you reckless.

You're hot headed, quick to pull a trigger and abuse your power before the chance can be taken from you. Steve had tried to train you first, but all attempts made to domesticate you failed, the restlessness within you wired deep within your bones, and so you were passed on to Bucky. Because there's a part of Bucky that craves chaos just like you do, the only difference is that he's learned to control it rather than have it control him. You were pushed right into his arms, and it was only a matter of time before he left and impression on you.

The devilment you shared made him putty in your hands. He saw himself in you, a pretty head plagued with torturous thoughts, a pretty girl ruined by this job, and so he trained you accordingly. He told you that there was a trick to it, that he never learned to tame the darkness within him, he just learned to suppress and channel it at the right time, finding constructive outlets rather than being a fucking brat all the time. He could actually handle you, and love hit you hard. You've been inseparable ever since.

Steve was concerned with how quickly your relationship developed, Tony called you both crazy, and Natasha, she may or may not be a bad influence on you. You're a killer, he's a killer, it's like you were made for each other.

But that part of you never went away, and it's times like these that it starts to become a test of his patience.

Eventually, you find yourself at a park, and Bucky is beyond confused when you park the car and actually turn it off. You meant it when you said you just wanted to go for a drive. It's too late to find anything open, he's too tired to go too far, and you would rather sit and star gaze with him rather than do anything to piss him off.

But first, he fucks you. Hard. On every surface, just like you asked. He pulls you over the console, flips your shirt up and presses your tits against the dash, fucking up into you with a strength that you realize you've missed these past three days. Then he gets out, an arm secured around your waist to hold you up as he rounds the car and places you on the hood, palms flat against the polished paint as he continues to fuck you.

It's obscene, your body caving under his weight, cheek pressed flat against the cool metal when he grips the back of your neck, arching you against him further. God, he missed you. You take him so well, always such a good girl for him, and he tells you that, lips pressed against your ear as he grinds his cock into you, and the only response you can give is a moan.

Then he's in the front seat, hands tight on your hips as you ride him, and you could have sworn the car seemed bigger until you found yourself in this position, back arched against the wheel so that you don't hit your head.

He forces you to look him in the eyes, grabbing your throat and tilting your head up, leaving you to find your own rhythm. The muscles in his arm strain at the restraint, because you slow down to a teasing pace, the look in his eyes becoming dangerous as you test his patience, and it doesn't take long for him to grab you up and turn you around, pushing the seat back as far as it goes and pounding you against the soft leather. He's relentless, hips slapping against your ass at a speed that your brain can't keep up with, and you're coming before your body has a chance to warn you.

He comes inside of you soon after, locking your body to his as if you'll disappear, and it makes you wonder what happened while he was gone.

You pull a bottle of liquor from the glove box, he pulls your shorts back up, and together you deposit your tired bodies on the swing set a few feet away. He tells you everything, sharing swigs of whiskey, eyes dancing between you and the night sky above you.

It was supposed to be recon, supposed to be a simple in and out. But Steve fucked up, stepped on a trip wire and gave them away. They had to fight their way out, didn't even get any intel besides the fact that whoever the fuck it was knew that they were coming. Or at least, they were expecting someone to come eventually.

It makes you wish you were there, because Steve wouldn't have been able to fuck up, it's you who goes out on those types of missions with Bucky. You two just work better together, something that maybe now Steve Rogers might finally come to understand. But you were told, more like ordered to sit this one out, and neither of you say it, but you both register at the same time that it was a mistake.

You drink more than you should, the bottle half empty by the time he decides to cut you off. But you don't let it ruin your fun, kicking your legs as hard as you can, the swing lifting higher than the bars that hold it, and for a moment it feels like you're flying before gravity takes over and yanks you back down. But Bucky doesn't let you jostle yourself around too much, arm reaching out to grab the chain of your swing, slowing your speed.

"We shouldn't stay out long." He says. "We need to get up early." You raise an eyebrow in question, he does the same. "Don't act brand new. You do this every time I leave. You fall off your routine and we have to work twice as hard for a couple days to get you back on it."

It makes you groan, makes him grab you by the arm and pull you to sit on his lap, kissing your cheek when you lean your head back against his shoulder.

You don't say anything, because there isn't anything else to say. He's back, he's here with you again and you couldn't ask for anything more than that.

But he seems to have too much on his mind, taking swig after swig until the bottle is empty and there's nothing left to distract him. "Don't do this again." He says. "I'll buy you a car if that's what you want, but don't you ever run to another man before coming to me." You aren't sure if this is an insecurity, or if he's simply being possessive, but either way you take too long to respond, his hands clamping down on your thighs in a grip that has you arching up off his lap to relieve the pressure. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, fuck."

"Good." He kisses the corner of your mouth this time, smoothing his palms against your skin to soothe the ache he's caused. "Where did you get these shorts from?"

"College."

Your response raises a question in his head, how can you still fit them? But he realizes immediately that college was only a year ago for you, a harsh reminder of your age compared to his, and he simply hums in reply.

The air grows too cold for you to handle, shivering in his arms despite the warmth running through your veins, and he makes the call to wrap it up. But not before he kisses you first, turning you around on his lap and tugging you against his lips by a harsh grip in your hair. You don't get to have many moments like these, so you cherish it, kissing him as long as he needs you to, enjoying the chill that snakes up your spine when his hands round your ass and deposit under your thighs, hoisting you up.

He settles you in the passenger seat, eager for his turn at driving the car, and you could care less given your sudden exhaustion. You admire the way he looks, jaw clenched, muscles taught, arm flexing as he palms the steering wheel, a hand on your head rest as he glances back to reverse the car. His hair is loose for a change, framing his face and whipping back and forth each time he turns his head.

He could use a trim, but you know he'll never let you.

He doesn't lose his mind driving like you did, remaining at a reasonable speed, turning on the radio to keep his mind busy since you aren't doing much entertaining. He doesn't blame you, he's tired too, and you had been waiting up to greet him when he got back.

You start to doze off, the blur of lights and buildings putting your mind at ease. It's not until Bucky's hands are on you again that you realize you fell asleep, which is a bummer, because you won't have this car again come noon.

"I want you to get me pregnant in this car."

He snorts, ignoring your antics entirely, reaching over to unfasten your seatbelt.

He tries to carry you, but you don't let him, settling for holding his hand instead. The compound is quiet except for the sound of the tv on low in the common room, Clint passed out on the couch, the movie he had been watching probably long gone off by now.

It makes you smile, stopping to place a blanket on him. He doesn't move a muscle, and Bucky grows impatient waiting for you, so you carry on. In the privacy in your room, you step your way out of your shoes and kick them into the corner by the door, then you help him out of his gear.

You find a stab wound on his stomach, it's long stopped bleeding by now, not at all infected, and it's already starting to heal. He says nothing, your warm fingers brushing his skin and something domestic washes over you both. It's something soft and unspoken, something the lines of I'm glad your safe.

The tile on the floor is cold beneath your feet, you lead him into the bathroom and run a bath for him, despite his protests of you being too tired. You watch as the water turns milky with dirt and blood, fingertips against his scalp as you clean his hair. It's a side of you that he doesn't see too often, a softer side that you bury under attitude and attention seeking mischief, and at this point he doesn't know which version of you he appreciates more.

You lather a sponge with body wash, a cedar scent you learned to love on him, and you wash him gently, carefully, mindful of his bruising. His wet hands are on your face, pulling you in for an occasional kiss, and it seems that he just can't keep his hands off of you.

He fucks you again, but it's different this time, softer, slower, his eyes locked on yours, fingers gentle just like you were for him, and you feel it in your heart when he tells you he loves you. He fucks you to sleep and tucks you into bed, limbs tangled with yours to keep you close.

He'll never bring it up, but he wasn't sure if he would make it back to you this time. He sleeps better than he had in days knowing that you're close.

It makes getting you up in the next morning is hard. You're a heavy sleeper, something Bucky was always thankful for on nights where he struggled to settle beside you. But when it's time to wake you up, he curses your ability to still sleep soundly like a baby after all the things you've seen, he envies it. He wants to let you sleep in, he wants to stay in bed with you, holding you, because who knows if he'll ever be able to do it again.

But he has to keep things normal. He has to keep you on your routine, otherwise you'll give in to your madness.

You think you're dreaming it, his hands on your side, his lips on the side of your face. You just can't bring yourself to open your eyes, exhaustion keeping it's hold on you. But Bucky is determined, a bit rough as he tugs you to lay on your back, your eyes flying open at being jostled, and he doesn't look apologetic as he smiles down at you.

"Hey, peach." He kisses you quickly, leaving nothing to soothe you back to sleep. "Time to get up."

His voice is hoarse, you realize, he's tired, too tired for your liking, and you wonder how long he's been up.

"A few more minutes?" You pout, curling your body around his, and you can tell he's on the verge of saying yes. "Please?"

But his will is far too strong. "You need to get up." He says, "Now."

And just like that, you're pissed, a sour attitude shifting your expression entirely, and he could care less, standing up to give you room to move. You have a dull headache, a hangover no doubt, but you ignore it as you dig through your dresser for workout clothes to change into.

He shakes his head at you, sensing your attitude, but he doesn't say a word as you stomp your way over to the door, pulling it open hard enough to bang against the wall. It's okay, he knows what you need, and he's been itching to give it to you.

When it comes to training, Bucky tends to be harsher on you, because he knows you can take it. It's the textbook definition of tough love, pushing you beyond your limits to make you better. It's the kind of training that leaves you sore and exhausted and covered in bruises, busted lips, black eyes, you aren't new to any of it. In fact, you're used to the feeling, and that's something most people would find scary. But you need it to stay sane, a distraction from everything else. You like when he pushes you beyond your limits.

You warm up with a jog around the compound grounds, the sun hasn't come up yet, the air crisp and cool and burning your lungs with each inhale you take. He reminds you to breathe slowly, in your nose and out your mouth in pace with each foot fall. He quickly realizes that your endurance has fallen low, his hand on your back to push you to run faster.

He doesn't take it easy on you, not even when you collapse into the ground, your body forcing you to take a break from running.

"Get up."

Your lungs burn, your face is hot, your legs are jelly, you shake your head.

"Look at you, you can't even speak and you have to nerve to slack off." He glares down at you, hands on his hips. "Get the fuck up before I drag you across the concrete."

His threat is very real, so you struggle to rise back to your feet. He continues on, super soldier stamina has him not even breaking a sweat, and you curse the cheating serum coursing through his veins.

"You're cheating, you have an advantage." You pant, fingers barely catching his arm to try and keep up. "I can't go as fast as you for that long."

He slows just a little, your hand wrapping around his bicep. "Which is why I push you. Your muscles won't ever grow past the strain if you don't experience it." He says. "Shape up, we're almost done."

He allows you a five minute break, which you spend chugging as much water as he'll let you have, laying on the floor of the gym to try and catch your break and give your muscles a break.

He starts you on the treadmill, pushing up the incline every ten minutes, and you can feel the strain it's putting you under. You haven't done this in days, and the alcohol that remains in your system doesn't help. You're just thankful that no one else is in the gym to witness your struggle.

Next is ab workouts, he joins you for this one, side by side on the mat as he walks you through each exercise. He flies through them with ease, hardly breaking a sweat. But you on the other hand feel winded, muscles aching as you use them beyond what you have been. He watches, carefully, a knowing look on his face when you start to lose your speed, but he doesn't let you stop.

This is what you need. An outlet, something to exhaust your energy and take the edge off. For the most part it helps. But there's only so much he can do to keep you occupied, so when he has you here in the gym, he makes it count.

He has you on weights, which turns your body numb, and you aren't sure what kind of damage it's doing, but you know that you'll be sore for the next couple of days.

He lets you take a break after an hour, you drink as much water as you can, eager to be away from his scrutinizing gaze, and you find Natasha returning from a morning run with Steve. They look like they haven't done anything a all, but the smell of outside and sweat tells you otherwise.

Natasha has the nerve to smile at you, recognizing the winded look on your face, and she settles next to you in the kitchen, hand on her hip as she drinks from a water bottle.

"I tried to warn you," She says, "He's kicking your ass, isn't he?"

She did try, you'll give her the credit, knocking on your door every day he was gone to at least get you to come out for a jog. But you refused, anticipating this intensity, and while you'll never admit that to her, she assumes you enjoy the torture.

"It's embarrassing." You say. "Even after all this time, he can wipe the floor with me if he wanted to."

She laughs at that, a twinkle in her eye that hints at the history she shares with him. "Yeah. You and me both." Her smile is far from innocent. "But I'm sure you give him a run for his money."

Your grin is wicked, "You can bet your perky little ass I do."

Your relationship with Natasha is complicated. Sometimes she's the older sister you always wished you had. Other times she's the extravagant aunt who teaches you the life lessons your mother was too modest to. Then sometimes, it's hard to tell, she's just an attractive woman admiring another attractive woman, someone with experience gravitating to someone who doesn't, because it's in her nature to enjoy the power play. If you had to guess, Natasha would bend you over the counter if she had the opportunity, just like anyone else living here in the compound. But she respects your privacy, respects the strange relationship you have with a man who is just as deadly as she is, and settles for the mischief you create together instead.

It's fun to feed into it, you always had a knack for sticking your fingers into flames, and sometimes you hold it over Bucky's head. Like last night, you didn't tell him what you did to convince Tony to let you borrow his car, but it's implied in your nature. You tend to be a bit hyper sexual, another trait that sometimes proves to be a pain in the ass. But Bucky has something to handle that too, and sometimes, at times like this, he lets you off your tight leash.

"Who's ass is perky?" He had been watching, of course he had, and the look on Natasha's face tells you that she knew it too.

"Depends on who you ask." You quip, flashing him an innocent smile. "Yours is, mine is, and hers," You spare a glance at Natasha, "Well, you would know, wouldn't you?"

He rolls his eyes, because you already know the answer to what you're implying. Nothing ever happened between him an Natasha. If anything were to happen, it would have been long ago, before they had both reformed themselves into the people they are now. He told you that, confessed his entire life to you, so he knows this is just your way of trying to get him worked up.

"Don't drag me into this." Natasha waves a finger between you both. "Whatever this is, I want no part." Her eyes settle on you. "I also suggest you cool it, because I'm joining you, and I don't want to be forced around awkward sexual tension."

You look at Bucky, raising an eyebrow. He only shrugs. "Steve too." He says. "I figured you needed a change in pace, you're too used to me now, you could use a different perspective."

Your break is obviously over, Natasha follows you as you walk out of the kitchen. "Yeah," She says. "Perspective."

The mood changes drastically, all playfulness gone from her when you step on the sparing mat together. To put it simply, she kicks your ass. You put up a good fight though, you actually managed to make her bleed, but in the end, she's too on top of her training schedule for you to find a weakness. That's the point Bucky was trying to make to you. You know him and his tactics, you know how hard he hits, you know where he'll strike, all you have to do is avoid it and expect it. But with an opponent you've never faced before, you're far too weak at the moment to properly defend yourself.

The next time you hit the mat is your last, nose colliding with the floor, blood gushing, a grunt coming from you that actually manages to distract your boyfriend who stands feet away, sparing with Steve.

You pinch your nose like you've been taught, instantly feeling that it isn't broken, and Natasha has helped you up by the time Bucky makes his way over.

He's actually sweating, panting hard as he takes your chin in his hand, examining your face. "You'll be fine." He says, glancing at Natasha. He nods to her, and you aren't sure what it is, approval, dismissal? "Hit the showers." He says to you, "You're done for now."

For now, there will be more later after lunch you're sure. You leave with Natasha, who reminds you to keep your head tilted, her arm linked with yours as she walks with you to the infirmary. The nurse on duty clogs your nose with gauze, telling you what you already know. It's not broken, but it will be bruised, and after the bleeding stops you need to rinse your nose clear of the blood. Until then, breathe out your mouth, and be cautious of blood that may trickle to the back of your throat.

"Want to step out with me?" Natasha meets you back in the kitchen after you both shower, her hair dark and dripping, and for a moment you think she's kidding.

Your body is starting to bruise, knuckles scraped and angry, nose bloody. But she simply stares at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

"Okay."

You take her Camero, she lets you drive, and it turns out it's just a grocery run. She wants to cook lunch, macaroni salad, and you both do a bit of personal shopping while you're out. After getting the ingredients, you both occupy the kitchen to make it. It doesn't take too long, but the serving size is large considering how many people will want to eat it.

Tony comes to find you in search of food, and he asks you about his car, a strange smell that he can't quite place. Liquor, sex, sweat? It could be anything, but you decide to play dumb instead, biting your tongue as you smile at him and suggest he go get it detailed.

While the macaroni chills in the fridge, Bucky comes to find you carrying fresh gauze and an alcohol wipe. He gives you his protein shake, chocolate flavored, and you sip from it eagerly. His hands are gentle as he pulls the blood soaked gauze from your nose and you take a deep breath, feeling the dried blood and soreness from the impact.

He applies pressure to the bridge of your nose, stopping when you wince, humming low in his throat as he leans down to kiss you. "It'll be a nasty bruise," He says, "But you deserve it, you fucking brat."

You imagine his opinion will change when the skin on your nose starts to discolor, but for now, he feels proud of himself. You let him have it.

He wipes your nose gently, hand on your throat to tilt your head back, he points the corners of the alcohol wipe and wipes the inside of your nose, eyebrows knit in concentration, and you take the opportunity to feel him up.

Your hands slide under his shirt, the skin is smooth where his stab wound was last night, and once again you're amazed by his abilities. "Did you have fun beating up someone other than me for once?"

His lip quirks up in a half smile, "Nah." He says. "It's not as satisfying."

You smile despite yourself, wrapping your arms around his waist. "What about you?" He asks. "Did you find anything interesting while your head was up Nat's ass?"

"Jealous?"

His grip on your throat shifts, "If I were, this would be a very different situation for you."

He knows you're his, there's nothing to argue, nothing to worry about, even if the entire compound wants to rearrange your guts. A pretty young thing like you, he doesn't blame them. But they wouldn't be able to handle you, you wouldn't enjoy it, and it would send you right back to him.

You both know it.

"You're so scary." You kiss him then, silencing whatever remark he had for you, eyes slipping closed as he tilts his head against yours, cautious of your nose. He tastes like chocolate, and sweat, slipping from your arms to take a shower.

When he returns, the salad has cooled enough to eat, and naturally, Clint already has a mouthful before anyone else can get their hands on it. He too has just returns from a workout, his sweats drenched, Bucky crinkles his nose, scowls at the amount of people occupying the kitchen and opts for lurking in the hall, watching as you portion out bowls for everyone, including him.

He's amazed at your cooking skills, the two of you tucked away out back with bowls of macaroni salad, enjoying the breeze in the shade. You beam at his praise, smiling over a mouthful of food, but it doesn't last long, his finger reaching out to poke your noise.

Don't look too proud of yourself, he says, this isn't approved in your diet plan.

Yeah well, screw him and the diet plan.

He makes you run after lunch, a water bottle in your hand because he isn't going to let you stop for breaks, the only water you can have is what you can hold.

It's cruel, the sun high in the sky and beating down on you with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe, let alone run. But you manage, a familiar exhaustion washing over you as you push your body for the third time today.

He makes you a protein shake, joins you for your second shower of the day, and then he drags you to bed.

"All your hard work means nothing if you don't give yourself a chance to recover." He whispers in your ear, lips pressed to your skin, his arm cold against your side when he spoons you. "I know you're tired, peach. You did good today, now rest."

It makes it all worth it, the torture of exercise, the agonizing exhaustion he puts you through. Getting to lay here like this, the comfort of his closeness, a vulnerability that only you have been allowed to see.

You turn, sealing your lips against his in a sloppy kiss, one that has no real effort behind it but has all the desperation in the world. It makes his grip tighten at your waist, his other hand slipping down to yank your panties to the side.

"Okay, you can sleep after this."

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

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Rating: G

Summary: An offhand curiosity leads to Ladybug and Chat Noir riding his baton up as high as it can go. Or, as high as it can go before they get distracted. (It's just nerves about the height that has Ladybug's stomach in knots, she swears.) Ladynoir oneshot for @lovesquarefluffweek, dedicated to @rosekasa who made me a ladynoir stan

Word Count: 3511

XXX

Marinette rested her hands on her hips, watching in amusement as her partner finished wedging his staff in the crack in the dilapidated rooftop.

“This is a horrible idea,” she said idly.

His tongue stuck out as he tried wiggling the stick, ensuring that it was secured fast. “Come on, Bugaboo, none of your ideas have ever been horrible.”

Strictly speaking, this wasn’t her idea. She’d only wondered how far Chat’s baron could extend, if its length was as infinite as her yo-yo’s string. It was her ridiculous, adrenaline-junkie partner who wanted to ride the baton up as far as it could go.

Not that it was that dangerous, really. They’d done it a few times to scout for some akuma or another during attacks. Besides, it would be nice to see the city from such a height without a threat looming over them—or below them.

“It wasn’t an idea. It was a question,” she still said on principle. “I didn’t think you were actually going to test it.”

He rested his chin on the top of the baton and grinned. “How long have you known me? I’m not majoring in Physics for nothing.”

“You’re not majoring in Physics.” She leaned in to flick his nose, which only made him grin wider. “Not for another two months, and not ever if you become a pancake by pulling some stupid stunt before then.”

“How could I hurt myself? I’ll have my amazing partner right there to catch me if I fall.” He winked.

Her stomach twisted like pretzel dough—from nerves about the height, that was all.

“Don’t go treating me like a parachute, kitty. I’ll be more likely to rip my arm out of its socket if I have to yo-yo us out of this.”

Or she’d have to use Lucky Charm and hope for an actual parachute, but it probably wouldn’t come to that. Silly as her kitty could be, he never let her down when it mattered.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be extra careful, I Pawmise.” He crossed his heart with one claw, still grinning like he was already on top of the world.

Ridiculous or not, this idea was worth it just to see him so excited. He’d been bouncing all night since she’d agreed.

“You’d better,” she warned, though her voice was warm.

His grin reached Cheshire proportions as he wrapped one arm securely around the metal staff and extended the other to her. “One catapult, going up.”

“Oh no.” She laughed. “Points for the pun, but please don’t tell me you’re going to launch us.”

“I already said I’ll be careful. Don’t tell me the fearless Ladybug is actually scared?”

“Pffff, you wish. You just want me to hold on tighter.” Her fingers threaded through his teasingly before slipping out just as he tried to kiss her knuckles.

His lips pursed in a pout. “You know me too well, my Lady. ...But seriously, please hold on. I know you can catch yourself if you have to, but I’d really rather not drop you in the first place.”

“That makes two of us.”

She wrapped one arm around his waist and secured the other at his shoulder. His feet lifted off the ground to brace against the staff, leaving his thigh as a comfortable seat.

Enjoying this, huh? She almost expected him to tease as she snuggled closer—because she did want to be safe. It was almost disappointing when he neglected to quip though. Maybe she wasn’t clinging tightly enough after all.

“So high do you think we’ll go?” He asked, holding her by the waist as she finished getting settled. “Think we’ll be dodging planes tonight?”

“I doubt it. Even if we technically could go that high, we shouldn’t. It’ll be freezing up there.”

“What, afraid I won’t be able to keep you warm?” He teased with a gentle nuzzle to the size of her head.

Had it always been this difficult to keep from leaning into his touch? Not that she couldn’t, but, well—if she gave into his jokes, he’d have no reason to continue.

“Why don’t you just focus on getting us up there at all.” She kept her voice flat, hiding any trace of that brief thought.

“Whatever you say, Bugaboo.”

For all his earlier joking, their ascent started fairly slow, more like an elevator than a catapult. It gave her plenty of time to take in the sights below—the warm lights flickering from windows, divided by the dark swath of the Seine. Streets radiating out from the Arc de Triomphe like spokes on a wheel, cars inching their way down them like little lightningbugs. And of course, the Eiffel Tower, sparkling in the distance, a homing beacon that never failed to bring a smile to her lips.

Paris. Their city.

“Pretty amazing, huh,” Chat breathed beside her. With their arms around each other and the glittering lights below, it was easy to pretend they were rulers surveying their kingdom.

...Chat had must have been calling Marinette Princess too much. Or else his My Lady’s were going to her head.

Royal daydreams or not, though, there was no one she’d rather have beside her—no one else she could have beside her. And not just because it was his baton that held them aloft, his embrace that made her feel as secure as if she stood on solid ground. She would have been crushed under the weight of her superhero mantle if he weren’t there to share it. Staring down at just how many people depended on them, it was impossible to forget that.

“Does it ever feel like too much?” She whispered the doubt that had been nagging at her more and more lately. She tried to stay strong for the team’s morale, but when it was just her partner and the hushed sky, her necessary barriers wore thin.

“Does what feel like too much?” He replied just as quietly. His face turned to hers, emerald irises glinting in the moonlight, closer than she’d prepared herself to handle.

The pretzel twist in her stomach made a reappearance, but she was hardly thinking about the height.

“You know. All of this.” She couldn’t let go to gesture to the glowing city beneath them, but he seemed to understand anyway. “We’re the only ones standing between all of them and two adult supervillains. And even after all these years, we still haven’t found them.”

Her voice cracked a little on that last sentence. The uncomfortable truth they’d been dancing around for the last few months—longer, really, but it became more and more urgent as lycee ended and they prepared to go to University. Most of their team of miraculous wielders (not Chat, of course) would be leaving Paris. This was the last summer they would be together, and the last summer they could be kids, only they hadn’t really been kids for four years now thanks to Hawkmoth and Mayura—

And maybe that was why she agreed to this crazy idea. Because they were kids, dang it, and she deserved to do something silly and dumb with the one person she trusted more than anyone in the world. She wanted to spend time with him outside of taking down Hawkmoth’s villain of the day. She wanted them to just be together.

Wait. Not together, together—just, like, as friends. Who could spend time together without wearing magical suits and masks. She wanted to sew them matching shirts, and text him cat memes at two a.m., and kick his butt at video games. Which she could do as Marinette, but—she wanted him to know it was her, too.

The sheer force of that longing took her by surprise, and only multiplied her hatred for Hawkmoth a hundredfold.

“Hey, Little Bug,” Chat said softly. His arm tightening around her dissolved the complicated web of her thoughts. “We’re going to find him. And it’s not just us anymore. Pegasus is analyzing all the data Rena’s collected, remember? And we’ve got her and Carapace alternating patrols with Ryuuko and Viperion. We can even call in Queen Bee or Bunnyx or King Monkey if we need to. We’ve never been closer to taking Hawkmoth down.”

He was right. They weren’t alone. They never would’ve survived the combined powers of Hawkmoth and Mayura if it weren’t for their team, especially since sentimonsters started regularly joining the fray two years ago.

Still, there was something about sitting with Chat among the pinprick stars that brought her back to before then. When it was just the two of them against the world.

Was it weird that she sometimes missed that?

“I know,” she murmured. Her forehead leaned against his chest, where the steady thump-thump of his heart calmed her own. “Sorry, Chat. I shouldn’t worry.”

“I don’t think anyone could stop you from worrying.” His chin rested on her head, his warmth and familiar scent cocooning her. Roses and leather and cheese, juxtaposed in a way that was so uniquely him. “I doubt Paris would still be standing if you didn’t worry. But it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

The rational part of her brain wanted to ask how he could say that. The newspapers cried out against them at every mistake, at every day that drew them closer to the fifth anniversary of Hawkmoth’s appearance.

But the other part of her brain, the part that had worked in tandem with him long enough that trusting him was second nature, calmed at his reassurance.

“Who knows,” he continued. “Maybe we’ll kick Hawkmoth’s butt before summer ends, and then we can throw a party before everyone splits for University. The whole team can show up. We’ll get Multimouse to bring the pastries. Carapace can blast us some sick tunes. I’m sure Queen Bee can get us a venue…”

Marinette giggled at the thought of all the miraculous wielders, unmasked and just hanging out like normal friends, no more worries than what they were going to do in University. Alix and Kim would probably (definitely) end up in some kind of competition, powered by their miraculouses or not. Luka would serenade Kagami with his guitar instead of Viperion’s lyre. Speaking of which, Marinette wondered if Adrien’s brief stint as Aspik would mean he would be there… and how he would get along with Chat Noir. For some reason, she had a feeling it would be odd to see them together.

Regardless, it was a dream worth fighting for. A dream worth hoping for.

“I’m sure Multimouse would love that,” she said, hiding her smirk against his collarbone. By the time such a party could happen, Chat would know the truth about her dual identity, anyway. “I know I would.”

“There’s only one thing that would make it better.” Chat’s voice turned teasing.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

He didn’t answer as they passed through a cloud, the dampness much colder and all around wetter than she was prepared for. She shivered and sneezed, feeling her pigtails cling to the back of her neck. Chat chuckled and brushed them aside. His claws lingered for the briefest of moments on the sliver of skin between her suit and hairline.

“A private party,” he said softly. “Just the two of us, before everyone else.”

She pulled back just enough to see his eyes again, intending to tease him about what kind of party he was asking for—but the sincerity and softness in his features stopped her short.

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah. So we can… I mean, I know I want…” he swallowed for a moment before quietly finishing, “I want you to be the first one to know who I am.”

They didn’t talk about revealing their identities often—mostly because she made it clear that they couldn’t, and she already thought about it enough without tempting either of them by saying it out loud. He was Chat Noir, her partner and best friend, no matter who he was under the mask.

But maybe they should talk about it more, if he thought she would want anything else.

“Of course, Kitty.” Carefully, since they were hundreds of kilometers in the air, she moved the arm at his waist to wrap around the back of his neck instead. A few of his damp locks tickled her fingers even though the suit. “I’ve always wanted you to be the first, too.”

His smile could’ve powered the whole city below. “Then it’s settled. Pegasus finds Hawkbutt next week. We storm the castle, Queen Bee Venoms him and Mayura, you rip their miraculouses off, we pound it, and we throw the biggest party Paris has ever seen.”

His optimism, if unrealistic, was contagious. She felt the hope untangling knots in her chest as she laughed again.

“I should’ve left the planning to you, Chaton. Maybe then we’d have beaten Hawkmoth already.”

“Nah, we all know you’re the brains of the operation, Bugaboo. I’m just here to look pretty.” He flipped his soggy hair, and his bangs hit his forehead with a fwap.

She couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her. “You’re such a dork. I love you.”

He froze solid as one of Style Queen’s statues. She half expected him to turn to gold, for his warmth to bleed out like the color currently draining from her face.

She said—

She’d said she loved him.

She’d said she loved him, and the words had come out as easy as breathing, as sure as the pounding of her heart. How—why? She didn’t love him, not like that, she couldn’t couldn’t she’d told herself that long ago—

But any denials caught in her lungs, trapped like the dark butterflies snared by her yo-yo. Only when the words were fully purified were they released again.

“I—I love you,” she whispered.

She hadn’t meant to say it once, much less twice—but with the repetition the truth of it snapped firmly into place. She didn’t know when her kitty had snuck past her defenses, slipped past her blinding crush on Adrien, dodged all the logical reasons she had for not falling for him.

But he had.

She loved Chat Noir. Of course she did.

“You—but you—is there an akuma?” He stammered, eyes wide and disbelieving. She’d been turning down his off-and-on (mostly on) flirting for four years now; of course he wouldn’t assume she was serious.

“No, Kitty.” Her laugh felt suffocating. After all this time she’d been trying to confess to Adrien, and now, when her target was her Kitty, her mouth didn’t give her a choice.

Maybe that was for the best. She would always have a special place in her heart for Adrien, but Chat—Chat was her home. Her partner, her friend, her everything.

The twisting in her stomach finally unwound, swelling into something that she could hardly contain. His face was so close, his lips still parted from the three words she’d dropped on him. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss the shock from his face, until he melted in her arms, until they both believed this was real.

But Chat had always respected her boundaries, and she would do the same for him. Besides, what if he didn’t feel the same anymore, if his flirting was just habit? And she’d just blurted out her feelings before even she realized them—what if she ruined the comfortable companionship they shared?

No. No, she knew better than that. Even if he didn’t feel the same, nothing could tear the two of them apart.

“I know I’m late, but—if you still want me—”

“My Lady.” She felt more than heard the tremor of emotion in his voice. “I’ll always want you. I always have.”

Was this real? How had she gone from flirting with her partner to baring her heart to him? The liquid moonlight washed aside her walls. His golden hair was spun silver in its glow, and her hands ran through it involuntarily. She was lucky Chat had returned his grip to her waist, because otherwise she might have accidentally slipped off him.

As much as his words made her feel like she could fly, it was best not to test that theory.

“Thanks for waiting for me, Chaton.” She rested her forehead against his, still shaking with the realization and love and longing and—how had she ignored this feeling? How long had she wanted him to kiss her senseless before her mind would admit it?

It didn’t matter. She knew now, and the electricity that sparked between them wouldn’t let her forget anytime soon.

“You know I’d wait forever for you. I love you.” His breath fanned across her cheeks, soft and hot and everything she hoped his lips would be. “I love you so so much, Ladybug, I—”

He might be willing to wait forever, but she wasn’t. Her lips consumed whatever it was he was going to say next—

And all she knew was that he tasted like coming home.

He matched her passion with a surprising sweetness. It wasn’t the intense kiss she was expecting, but maybe that was for the best. He was the only thing keeping them from plummeting to the ground far below, and distracting him probably wasn’t the best idea, but frankly after that first touch of lips she was so gone they could’ve fallen and she wouldn’t have noticed—

He yelped against her mouth. Had she done something wrong? She hadn’t kissed a boy since Luka two years ago, but she couldn’t be that bad—

Oh. She hadn’t noticed.

Gravity really wasn’t supposed to be tugging in that direction. And the wind wasn’t supposed to be blowing up.

And Chat’s baton wasn’t supposed to be slipping through his fingers.

Gah! She barely had time to think as his arms tightened around her middle so he was hugging her from below. What was he thinking? Did he expect to cushion her fall?

Jolting out of oh-my-gosh-I’m-kissing-Chat mode, she threw her yo-yo from her hip and lassoed the still-upright baton. Only miraculous magic could be holding it steady, especially when she yanked them towards it—

And in a jumble of limbs and string, she promptly tangled them against the metal length.

She heard a sharp crack, followed by a dizzy groan.

“Chat, oh my gosh, are you okay?” The world was still spinning; she couldn’t turn to see him. Mostly because her back was pressed flush against his chest.

“Purrfectly fine, my Lady.” His laugh sounded near her ear. “I always knew you’d sweep me off my feet.”

She rolled her eyes, unsure if she wanted to laugh or groan. She was so stupid. Making out with Chat with nothing but a pole holding them up? Yes, that sounded like something from her romantic fantasies (which she wasn’t supposed to have with him, but—shh), but she should’ve known better in real life!

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” She muttered.

He hummed thoughtfully. That sound should not have made her shiver, she was just—it was just cold. Even though his body was hot against her back.

Yeah, she wasn’t kidding anyone.

“I could be purrsuaded to forget,” he said to her surprise.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.” His chin rested on her shoulder. “For the low price of fifty more kisses.”

“Fifty?” She choked, face heating. Fifty brushes of his lips on hers, of his laugh filling her lungs— “I—I don’t know. Actually, you’re the one who let go of the staff. I might’ve kissed you first, but you’re the one who should be getting teased.”

“Fair enough. A hundred kisses, then. Fifty for me to forget, and fifty for you to forgive me for dropping you.”

“Bold words from a guy who couldn’t even handle kissing me once.” She would’ve flicked his bell if her arms weren’t trapped over his around her middle.

“Ah, it just means I need more practice!”

She twisted her head just enough to stick her tongue out at him. “You won’t get any practice if you don’t get us down from here.”

“Oh. Uh. About that… I can’t reach the button.” He laughed awkwardly. “You mind untangling us?”

The magical properties of her yo-yo meant she could still retract the string even tangled as it was, but it would take a minute to lasso them back to the baton properly this time.

“Only if you don’t mind falling again.”

“For you? Never,” he said with a quick kiss to her cheek.

She shook her head. She refused to be distracted by him this time, even if his smell was everywhere, more dizzying than their brief fall through the clouds.

“You’re such a dork.”

“But you love me,” he practically sang.

Despite the fact that they were hanging in an awkward position hundreds of meters in the air, her nerves vanished completely.

“Yeah, Kitty. I do.”

(That truth was far more important than learning how far Chat’s baton could extend, anyway.)

[And then next week they beat hawkbutt and ship him and nathalie off to jail and everyone in the whole team comforts Adrien and he and marinette live happily ever after with a hamster]

#ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #fic tag #tali writes #lovesquarefluffweek2020 #no reveal here lads #other than marinette gettin her feelings revealed to her

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sarcasticgaypotato · 7 years

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Here's concept I've yet to see other fic writers consider: Chell teaching android GLaDOS to walk. Of course she would hate the dependence and lack of ability on the subject all to the Chell's amusement :) (can you do it? Thnx)

(( What a cute idea! This was fun to write! Poor GLaDOS. ))GLaDOS was of the opinion that very few able bodied creatures ever thought about just how easy it was to move. It was only if you lost that ability to move your body so easily that the thought may cross your mind. Or, if you were moved to a NEW body.

Of course, there was always the possibility of being forcefully placed into an immobile body, such as a potato or other root vegetable. But even if the new body you possessed COULD move, getting used to it turned out to be… difficult.

It had been a couple years since Chell’s return to Aperture, living with GLaDOS as a friend, and later, a partner. And as time had passed, GLaDOS found herself… curious.

She’d be lying if she said she had never thought about what it would be like to move around Aperture freely, no longer hindered by her stationary chassis. But she had always brushed that thought aside, deciding it was easier and safer to simply stay in the body she was familiar with.

Now though, she couldn’t suppress her desire to TRY. She would never want to be human, she’d never sink that low, but she was curious to experience being in a humanoid figure.

So, she crafted one. Days of studying the human body and how it moved, weeks of replicating muscles and skin, and a whole month of finishing the last details. Chell complained that GLaDOS needn’t be so picky if she simply wanted to walk around on two feet, but Aperture never did anything half-assed.

By the time she was finished, she had created the perfect body. Well, for something made to look like a human anyway.

Faux skin and hair, long limbs, and a well defined face. As Chell sarcastically commented, ‘A fitting body for a narcissistic robot.’

GLaDOS decided to take that as a compliment.

The body was made to be easily transferred into, and just as easily transferred back out of. She was NOT getting stuck in a body like this for good. This was just a… test.

And so far, on looks alone, she was quite proud. It could do almost everything a human could do, except with a few additions. Being able to crush metal with her bare hands and survive being shot at were completely necessary. One couldn’t be too careful around an ex-murderer and resident mute lunatic after all.Yet when it came time for her to transfer herself into it, she hesitated. It had been years since she had been forcibly removed from this body, and even though this time was willing, it was hard not to picture the incident from so long ago.She shook the head of her chassis, trying to clear her mind. This was her choice, this was her body. She wasn’t being forced out of her body and shoved into a potato, she was putting herself in a body that ought to be more than capable of self-defense, if needed. She’d be fine.With that thought strong in her mind, she started the transfer. Chell stood by in the corner of the room, watching closely in case something went wrong. Though she hardly seemed worried. In fact, despite looking excited, she looked positively relaxed. GLaDOS would’ve questioned her about this, but talking and switching bodies at the same time was not an easy task, so she kept quiet.It wasn’t as painful as she thought it would be. It was uncomfortable, but not as horrifically painful as her last transfer had been. It had once felt like she was being ripped out of her body, tearing and pulling her apart. Now, it felt more like an insistent tugging, urging her out of her familiar chassis and into a new body. She struggled against the feeling at first, but once she relaxed it went a lot smoother. Everything went black, and she suddenly lost all ability to move.A few moments passed, and she opened her optics. Instead of one, she now had two, staring directly up at the ceiling of her chamber as the android she has inhabiting lay against a metal table. She blinked, the feeling unnatural. Her body had the ability to move, yet her limbs felt like stones. She tried moving her head, and thankfully found that was fairly similar to what it was like in her chassis. Chell had walked over while the core looked around the room, a smirk making its way onto her face as she watched the android’s head twist and turn around while the rest of her body seemed as still as a statue, making for quite the odd sight.GLaDOS caught onto that smirk quickly.“Stop that. You look stupid.”The AI snapped this out, though finding her newfound lips moving as she did so. How strange. It happened on reflex alone, as she no longer had the ability to talk using only speakers. She had crafted this body to speak like a human would, and thus, moving her lips was part of that.Still, she wasn’t going to lie around here contemplating speech, she wanted to move. The only problem was… how.Her brain registered that she COULD move her limbs, but… how? She didn’t feel like she had control of them. The only way to know was to try, so she forced her arm to move. It lurched upward before flopping back onto the table.That earned a snort from Chell. One that GLaDOS decided to ignore.She tried again, focusing her energy to hold her arm upwards. It shook slightly, but she managed to keep it in place. The feeling was new, but… she could understand it. If she could move her arm, surely walking wouldn’t be difficult? It was only moving your legs, that didn’t seem all that hard.So, in a rather jerky and abrupt movement, she launched her upper body into a sitting position, sitting upright and as stiff as a board. Alright, just get off the table, and move.She took a deep breath, despite not needing air. Then, she jumped off the table in a wonderfully graceful and smooth action that ended with her landing on her feet with ease.…Or, maybe that wasn’t what happened.Maybe she half tossed herself off, half fell off the table and onto a crumpled heap on the floor with a very loud, metallic ‘THUD.’ That was probably a lot closer to how it went down. Accompanied by a mixture of concern and amusement from her partner, who was shooting the android a sympathetic look, despite silently snickering. Chell knew that only GLaDOS’s pride was hurt, so she carefully crouched down next to the AI.“…You. Saw. Nothing.”The central core snarled this out, moving herself back into a sitting position, using her arms to push herself up. Her golden optics were little more than angry slits, as if trying to burn a hole in Chell’s head by simply staring. The girl was, of course, unaffected. She knew the AI wouldn’t hurt her, and therefor was just as threatening as a kitten.GLaDOS was partly regretting this fact, as she desperately wished to be seen as at least partly intimidating to make up for the embarrassment that seemed to burn her to the core. She was supposed to be powerful, so why was walking so difficult? It was such a simple action that most young human children could do it! Surely she ought to be able to do it way easier and better than them, she was far more intelligent.‘These sorts of things need practice you know.’Chell had tapped her on the shoulder and signed something, though her comment did little to calm GLaDOS. “I know that! I just… need to gather myself and try again, that was a glitch in my programming.”She scoffed in the human’s direction, refusing to let herself be patronized by her former test subject. Besides, she had practiced. She just tried, that ought to be enough. She placed her arms on the ground beneath her, and pushed herself up into a standing position.She wobbled back and forth, grabbing onto the table for support. Her legs were bent and shaking quite violently, but she was still standing. If you had asked Chell, she would’ve commented that the core looked quite similar to a baby deer trying to stand for the first time. But considering GLaDOS’s ego was something easily damaged, the ex-test subject kept that thought to herself, deciding to let the core figure things out on her own, unless she asked for help or clearly needed it.“You see? I’m fine! I don’t need any help-”GLaDOS spoke with a shaky pride, her voice wavering as she tried to take a step forward, and fell. She expected to hit the ground once more, but found herself in the warm arms of a human. Chell had quick reflexes after being a test subject for so long, and had darted forward to catch the core before she fell.This earned a small squeak to escape the core, despite herself, attempting to jump out of the girl’s arms and almost falling back over if not for Chell’s strong grip. It wasn’t like they hadn’t shared physical contact over the years, but a hug or caress on the side of GLaDOS’s giant chassis was a lot different than something like this. GLaDOS was her size now- if a bit taller- and the simplest acts of affection suddenly felt a lot more intimate. A few moments passed, in nothing but silence. GLaDOS had stopped struggling, trying to calm and steady herself before she attempted to move away from Chell. Once she was positive she was at least somewhat sturdy, she cleared her throat.“…I know you’ve been excited about this new body, but you can let go of me now.”That earned a blush on her human’s face, who hastily let go, though stayed in place in the event that GLaDOS would need her support once more.GLaDOS didn’t need her help, she could figure this out on her own. But as she tried to take a step forward, she just barely grabbed the table in time to stop herself from falling. All her movements felt jerky and uncontrolled, and every attempt she made seemed to fail.This seemed to be more than enough proof for Chell, who once more signed something to the core, the look on her face already telling GLaDOS that whatever she was suggesting was likely to be the opposite of what the AI wanted.‘…Do you want me to help you learn?’

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”GLaDOS responded almost instantly, her cooling fans turning on and letting out a soft buzz, not-so-subtly hinting to her embarrassment. She had not given this body the ability to blush, but the buzzing was the second closest thing she could do.Chell smiled somewhat at the android’s reaction, but her brows furrowed at the response. She knew the core, and she knew how she worked. Her pride was a big part of who she was, and it was often hard for the core to get past that pride and accept help. Even when she clearly needed it. So, Chell offered again, holding her hand out to the core.‘It won’t be bad, I’ll just make sure you won’t fall, and you can try walking around. I promise I won’t laugh at you, and I won’t tell anyone about this.’That softened the AI somewhat, her expression relaxing somewhat and her shoulders losing the tension that they had been holding onto.“I…Fine.”GLaDOS gave in surprisingly quickly, though the scowl on her face made it clear she wasn’t happy.And thus started one of the most frustrating days of her life.She’d take a step, stumble, Chell would hold onto her. She’d take a few steps, stumble, Chell would make sure she didn’t fall. After about an hour, Chell said she could try taking a few steps without being held onto. She took about two before she fell again.

And as the day passed, the core only got more and more frustrated. She was failing over and over, embarrassing herself, and being helped by a human!She found herself so worked up by these thoughts that she hardly noticed when she had made it about ten steps forward without falling. And a couple more. Then she stopped, and stood in place. She didn’t fall. Her optics widened somewhat at the realization.“I did it…?”Chell’s face lit up, and she practically ran over to the core, pulling her into a strong hug, nodding furiously. She hadn’t been put off by the AI’s bad attitude, and had been helping and waiting patiently this whole time.GLaDOS was, at first, too stunned to do anything. She had spent all day either being caught, or ending up face first on the floor. The fact that she had been able to move forward, and then stop and stand in place rather than falling again was surprising. But incredibly uplifting. She looked at Chell, unaware of just how expressive her new face was. She was smiling. Something that she hadn’t done for her entire time that she’d been in this body. Part of her knew that taking a handful of successful steps didn’t mean she’d be waltzing around Aperture tonight, it would definitely take more time and practice- and likely more embarrassment- but she had made progress. And that was enough to make her happy, for now.

#chelldos #lots of fluff #chell #glados #android glados #portal #portal 2 #writing requests

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stagpath-blog · 7 years

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Alpha Outpost EDC Review

Hey everyone, this is will be my first gear review on Stagpath. I subscribed and have been crazy excited about some of the cool subscription services that offer survival/tactical gear. I just love this stuff so I wanted to share my thoughts, as their websites are often vague about the contents and how they work. If you’re contemplating a subscription but aren’t sure about how it will go, read on and I’ll tell ya all about it. Let's get started with the Alpha Outpost EDC!

The EDC is the First box they send to every first-time subscriber. For those of you who don't know, EDC in this case stands for “Every Day Carry”. Not to be confused with the BOB or “Bug Out Bag” concept. The difference being, a bug out bag is meant to be loaded with things that can help you survive an emergency situation for 72 hours, should you need to pack up and leave your home. EDC is simply meant to be a collection of items and tools to help get you through daily emergency or mundane situations. A more immediate thing you have with you all the times, or at least in your car. You wouldn't really want to carry a BOB around with you all the time, it would be too heavy and loaded with crap. So to clarify this is not intended as a bug out bag, but after 6 or more months of Alpha boxes, you’re getting close. I’ll save that for another review. Let's dig into the contents.

The Pack - A simplistic Tactical bag covered in MOLLE Webbing allowing you to attach all kinds of gear and additional pouches on both on the front and sides. I'm not sure who makes it but it looks like the same company that makes bags for Grunt Style. I've seen a few other reviewers tear this thing apart. Complaints about the quality and broken zippers. This has not happened to me, as you can see in the picture I've loaded this thing up with gear and put it through hell. Including a three-month road trip across the U.S. California to North Carolina and back. It's not only Held up well, but I like this thing! It's got plenty of room inside and is fairly comfortable. Yes, I know its Blasphemous I put two items from competing services together in one pic but I was testing it.

THE GOOD - Plenty of webbing and straps to attach gear, including two straps across the bottom wich can be used to secure a tent, rope, tools, or even a Sleeping bag wich Alpha had in the ZuluZulu box. There's also a zipper at the bottom for easy access. Two zippered pouches on the front, and two open pouches on the sides.

THE BAD - there's what looks like a laptop pouch in the main compartment but it's not big enough to fit a standard 15″ laptop like the one I use. If this is intended for a hydration pouch, there's no attachments or holes for the straw. The bottom pouch unzips and folds up to reveal a hidden compartment for tools, pens and other items...This would be cool but the pouch folds UP, leaving the crease at the top preventing you from easily taking tools in and out of it. making it pretty useless. A design oversight I guess. If it folded DOWN instead it would have been better.

THE UGLY - I would have preferred a Tan, Grey or Black color, but that's just me.

THE KNIFE - Obviously not a high-end knife but it gets basic jobs done. Cool to see the AO logo on it. Knives are some of the most important tools in your gear. not just for self-defense but basic everyday tasks you might not expect like opening packages.

THE GOOD - I actually really like the blade and its shape. It's got some notches over the top for grip and feels quite comfortable. Features a loop on the back for making a lanyard and a belt clip. It’s a big Decent sized folder.

THE BAD - The blade comes out easy...too easy. after some time I can deploy the blade by simply swinging it outward, not even touching the pin. if the knife were to come open while it's in your pocket that could be a bad day.

THE UGLY - I'm sorry but that handles got to go. just screams cheap $5 liquor store pocket knife. It would honestly be better if you just replaced the metal panels with plastic ones, that only had a checkered texture on them for grip.

THE FLASHLIGHT - Tactical LED flashlight with a telescoping lens. It's a single Diode light and runs on AAA batteries. Flashlights may seem like no big deal until you need one. if you're out somewhere and the sun goes down, it could be a life saver.

THE GOOD - The telescoping lens works fairly well. At a wide angle, you can illuminate the ground at your feet well. On the tight beam, you can spot objects several yards away. While in Texas I used it to spot some deer at night. the front face is beveled for use in self-defense or breaking glass. However, I have not yet tested that to see how sturdy it is.

THE BAD - Be careful opening this thing for the first time, be sure to remember how it’s assembled. I opened it up to put in batteries and it fell apart. I put it back together but the spring seemed too weak, the button started to collapsed into the housing and didn't work. I had to cannibalize a different Flashlight to fix and get it working again.

THE UGLY - ...no complaints here.

PARACORD - About 25ft of it I think. Cordage is a good thing to have in an emergency situation, used for lashings, shelter building or even a tourniquet. One of those things you don't think you need until you do. but if you're into survival gear you end up with a box full of the stuff from various sources.

CHAPSTICK - I know “why is this in an EDC kit?!” some people have suggested this was just an overstocked item from their DOPP kit. But realistically, the manual included in the pack suggests that chapstick has various uses like protecting the blade of a knife from rust by greasing the exposed steel edges...This is true. I had a small hatchet that has rusted up in a few places, had I used some of this I could have prevented that. Or I could put it this way. if you end up lost in a hot arid region or even a cold one, with a little water, without this, your lips could become chapped, cracked, and possibly bleed. Opening you to the chance of infection, Fever and potentially death...LOL I know its a reach but something to consider I guess.

AO GREEN PATCH - Sturdy embroidered patch with a velcro backing. Morale patches are a popular thing with the prepper community, and it's just a fun extra thing to get with each box. If you're wondering “where am I going to put this?” there is a patch of velcro on the front of the pack. As well as on several other bits of gear they send you in other boxes later. like the Grunt Style beanie in the Frost Box. These like the Paracord will start to pile up too.

ALPHA OUTPOST CAP - An extra item included for all new subscribers.

Final thoughts, in the literature, included, there are some suggestions for other items to complete your EDC arsenal. Multi-tool, tactical pen, notepad, Key bar “or chain in this case wich came with the Hermes box”, compass, cell phone battery bank. and Wallet. I've rounded up all of this except for the battery bank. I'd have one if I had received the Gentleman Box, But I wasn't a subscriber at the time...Feel free to send me one AO, my username is shedwller1 lol.

The one thing missing from this box is a fire making implement. A striking rod or at least matches which could replace the chapstick. Other than that this was pretty cool. If you're one of those preppers with tons of gear already this might not be something to get excited about. but if you're new to all this it's a great place to start. I've been with AO for over 6 months now and I've been very happy.

Hey everyone thanks for reading. I'd like to do video reviews but I don't currently have a camera set up to use. If you'd like to support the blog and see more reviews you can help us out on patreon!

#edcgear #gear reviews #alpha outpost #survival #preppers #tatical #stagpath #knives #guns #america #amurica #murica #subscriptionbox #blog

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