#I consider myself fairly well-informed about gun violence and I write about it at my own job but I think the main takeaway this book | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dark-mnjiro · 4 years

Text

it’s hard to breathe [but that’s alright]

Rated: Explicit (mostly for language, violence, and sexual situations in later chatpers - just far warning and yes it’s multichapter)

Author’s Note: This is my first first fic for My Hero Academia. I apologize in advance if it’s terrible. It’s been a while since I really forced myself to write anything for any type of fandom. I hope you enjoy! Maybe i this does well enough, I can move toward doing reader fics and such again. It’s been a long time since I’ve written - ugh.

Part One

Her eyes scanned the darkening skyline of the city from her position on the roof of the tallest building on the street. This seemed like the perfect place to set up her gear and wait for her target to arrive. She reached around to the sniper rifle hitched onto her back before leaning the gun against the ledge as she set up her stand first.

A small alarm sounded causing her to glance down at the small wristwatch she wore. “Five minutes,” she mused, praying her informants were correct in the location of her target. Pressing a button to silence the disturbance, she reset the timer for another five minutes before grabbing her sniper rifle and placing the gun into the stand.

Laying down, she adjusted her position to line up the sight of the sniper toward the street. Her target would be crossing her sights soon. She lifted the black eye patch that covered her right eye revealing the iris of her eye glowed a hazy violet as she activated her own special quirk, which allowed her to see long distances for precision shots with a sniper rifle.

She raked her fingers through her navy colored hair to push some remaining stray strands out of her face. Her index finger gently curled around the trigger as she took a small inhale of breath in, her vision focusing on the street below…

The alarm on her watch sounded again.

An explosion took place in a building down below.

“There,” she said sharply, as her focus moved to a couple of villains escaping from a building with items in tow, clearly stolen as to what… she couldn’t be bothered to ask her superiors at the government. She only knew - they were planning to steal very important supplies from a government agency.

“Exhale…” she sighed as she let out the breath she was holding before three shots rang out.

Within seconds, the three were dead on the sidewalk.

Sitting up, her hand came up to wipe the sweat from her brow before lowering her eyepatch back over her eye as the color shifted back to its original grey color.

“Another beautiful display, Miyako.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Miyako found her boss from the government standing behind her along with…

“Principal Nezu?” she asked, tilting her head at the small white creature.

Nezu smiled as he approached her with his arms crossed. “It’s been a while,” he mused as he looked over her sniper rifle.

“Yes sir…”

“Still a gifted shot,” he continued to muse as he came closer. “I must ask a favor. I know you’re a valuable asset to the government in taking down terrorists Miyako… and I can understand that it pays well.”

“It’s not as glamorous as a famed hero life but it does pay well,” she replied as she slowly placed her rifle back on the hitch on her back

Nezu nodded as she continued to break down the stand before tucking the gear away in her bag for safekeeping. “We’ve been having problems recently with villain activity at UA-“

“I’ve watched the news,” she replied shrugging.

“I spoke with your boss and he’s agreed to offer your services in order to stop the league of villains from attacking our students again… particularly one student.”

“The league you say?” She asked, her lips curling into a grin. “Sounds like a challenge… and what would the league want with a fifteen-year-old?”

“Would it interest you if this child was to become All Might’s successor?”

“...I’m listening.”

Nezu smiled at the sniper before handing her a picture. “This would be your target to stop entering the school at all costs,” he explained as her gaze studied the picture.

A male… dark hair… blue eyes… scar tissue… He would not be difficult to spot in a crowd, especially on school grounds. The scars especially would make him obvious in public along with his bizarre choice of piercings on his face and body. Not a great way to blend into a crowd, unless that was the point… easy enough, Miyako thought. How hard could it be keeping a bunch of kids safe.

“Name?” Miyako asked, glancing back up at Nezu.

“Not much is known… just that he goes by the name Dabi. He has a quirk where he is able to control blue flames. He’s considered fairly high up-“

“Consider me interested,” Miyako said, tucking the picture away in her bag. “Lethal force?”

Nezu sighed. “If necessary, yes. Just protect the students and we will reward you.”

Miyako gave him another smile before extending out her hand to him. “Deal,” she said before shaking the principal’s paw in agreement.

——

“...this wasn’t part of the deal,” Miyako said flatly as she crossed her arms over her chest. In order to not look suspicious on school grounds, Nezu had suggested that Miyako pose as a teacher - while the cover was a good idea she had no idea that he was actually going to push her to sit in on classes. “You’re expecting me to babysit a bunch of brats in a classroom…?”

Principal Nezu merely grinned in response as he looked around the room where the other faculty had gathered around the table. “This is perfect!” he said happily, clapping his paws together. “You’re not nearly as famous as All Might so no one will question your status as a teacher here!”

“...but I’m not a teacher-“

“It’s settled!”

Frustrated, Miyako rubbed her temples feeling as though she had somehow been fooled into this… god, damn it Nezu…

“Miyako would you like a tour-“

“...I’m going to do rounds…”

She quickly made her escape out of the conference room before disappearing into the hallway. She took note how high she was from this level, in case she would ever have to take a shot from this height. “Pretty high and this is only about mid-level,” she commented to herself as she began to hear teenagers beginning to flood the hallways. Classes had obviously let out for the afternoon. “Time to take my leave…” she muttered before slipping into a stairwell and heading to the roof of the school.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes trying to enjoy the peace and quiet of the outdoors. She slowly lifted up her eyepatch, rubbing her eye as irritation had begun to set in from wearing the fabric over her eye… while she should be used to the patch by now, she still found it annoying. Too bad it was a necessary evil, otherwise she would suffer severe fatigue in her right eye and had been warned with possible blindness had Miyako continued to use her quirk without any sort of resting period in between uses.

Miyako began muttering numbers and calculations under her breath as she used her eye to attempt to measure the distance from her point to the ground. Each shot would be difficult, but possible if she were careful and precise. She brought her thumb to her lips as she began to nibble on her nail still going over the calculations in her head, a nervous habit she had developed over the years especially while she was lost in her own thoughts. “If I aim right here…” she murmured, as she moved around the roof. “Bullet drag would slow my shots down and could pose possible rogue shots toward students depending on wind speed, but the property is open enough so I wouldn’t have too many obstacles… assuming these kids listen and stay out of the way.”

Loud shouts and playful screams echoed from below her as she glanced over the edge to see UA students clearing out of school for the day. While she had heard there had been several strange occurances of villains crossing young students recently, she wondered which student was particularly important to the school.

“Interesting,” she mused to herself as she watched the students talking below her. “I wonder which one All Might has taken such an interest in…” She could not see each students’ quirk from this altitude so perhaps sitting in a few of the hero course classes, she could see for herself. Maybe it wouldn’t be as boring as she was dreading it to be… one could only hope.

Leaning against the railing, her eyes followed a particular group of students, one she could swear she heard shouting from her height. Was he always this angry, she wondered. The smaller student seemed to cower, fearful of the more aggressive one, while another student among them was nearly silent - almost stoic for a fifteen-year-old.

“Is that?” She wondered, squinting her eyes more as she swore she recognized that split red and white hair. “Todoroki Shouto…” Her lips curled up in a gentle smile. “It’s been so long. I hadn’t realized he was old enough to be a student here now.”

Her gaze softened at the teenager as she recalled sometimes coming over to the house when she herself was younger to hang out among her friends… one of which was his brother, Touya. Her expression saddened as she was reminded of his untimely death once again - also wondering how Shouto had grown since she had last seen him.

“Shit time flies,” she mumbled to herself. “He’s already a teenager. He probably doesn’t even remember me. He was so young then. Not to mention his dad never did let him join us in games. Always training...” Her voice trailed off as she watched the teenagers disappear from view.

Shaking her head, Miyako pulled herself away from the railing before placing her hands behind her head. With the students gone, there was no need for her stick around into the evening, she convinced herself as she headed back into the stairwell making her way back down. “Time for a break…”

—

“At least the day is over,” Miyako groaned as she laid her forehead against the bar counter while she waited for her drink to be made. The place seemed full, she assumed due to the approaching weekend and typical Friday night office workers gathering to celebrate a long work week. A drink was set down in front of as she lifted her head up just enough to see the bartender whom she had known for years now.

He tilted his head at her. “Long day?”

“Do you know how much I hate kids…?”

Chuckling, he shook his head before moving further down the bar to tend to another few patrons. Miyako sat up, taking a large gulp of her drink before setting the glass back down. The warm liquid burned down the back of her throat before settling into her stomach. She tilted the glass, swirling the remaining liquid around. At least she had a plan for where she could set up shots around the property. It was just a matter of if and when this specific person would show up at the school.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the picture of her target, eyes narrowing as she tried to imprint the image to her mind. He didn’t seem like much, but the mention of his quirk seemed what was most threatening especially to students, and if the league had grown interested in a student or two - they wouldn’t just send pushovers.

“Blue flames?” she asked herself, tilting her head a bit. Thoughts began to bounce around in the walls of her mind, wondering if perhaps there was someone out there able to control fire like the Todoroki family. But blue flames? She rubbed her eyepatch that covered her right eye in frustration. Blue fire was considered the hottest type of fire, next to a white hot flame. “I wondered,” she whispered, noting the scarred tissue all over his body. “His body can’t handle over exposure clearly–”

“How interesting…”

A male voice drawled from behind her as she turned to glance over her shoulder at the stranger to see no one but random bar patrons passing by behind her. Confusion set in before she could react, “You should learn not to speak about your targets out loud.”

Her stomach fell to her feet as she turned back to the bar to find the picture she had been given was slowly burning to ash…

“Blue flames,” she hissed before looking toward the bar stool next to her.

It was him.

Her gaze locked with his flashing orbs of sapphire before her gaze narrowed. “You…” she hissed.

It was Dabi.

A smirk curled over his lips before he raised a finger to wag at her playfully. “Ah ah ah,” he tutted, his eyes falling to her hand moving to touch the top of her handgun. “You wouldn’t want to make such a scene with all these civilians would you?”

Shit, he was right. Her hand relaxed before moving away from the small holster on her hip. “What do you want then?” she countered.

“I heard I had a target on my back,” he replied airly. “Wanted to see who they thought could possibly get rid of me.”

“Says the one making a scene by setting a picture on fire,” she hissed to him.

His eyes moved to the patrons around the bar now staring at the two and the now pile of ash sitting on the bar counter. Shrugging his shoulders, he moved away from her side. “We can always continue this later kitten…”

“What did you just call me—?!” Miyako hissed offense dripping from her voice, whipping around to attack but finding he had just disappeared. “Damn it…”

Jumping to her feet, Miyako reached into her pocket before throwing cash into the table for the bartender to cover for her drink and whatever expenses to fix his bar. She rushed outside, head darting in every direction trying to gauge just where Dabi had disappeared. She cursed under her breath before darting into an alley, seeing a fire escape with roof access. Better view for her quirk. Her hand grabbed the railing before she was slammed against the wall. A low groan fell from her lips as pain shot up her spine.

“Nice try, kitten,” Dabi’s voice whispered into her ear. Her gaze moved up to meet piercing blue eyes staring back at her, while he used his body weight to keep her still against the brick wall before his hand moved to grasp her wrist as she tried to move for her pistol again. “Good attempt,” he added, moving the wrist over her head. “But unfortunately, I think I know all your little moves.” His opposite hand moved to brush against her eye patch before tilting his head at her. “Hiding your quirk must mean it exhausts you after prolonged use…”

“Let. Go,” she snapped at him, struggling against his grip.

“Not yet,” he commented airly as he started moving her eye patch up. “I want to see what this looks like…”

Miyako managed to move her free hand while he was distracted. Her right eye, once exposed, turned the hazy violet color before she managed to pull a small knife from her hip immediately lodging it into his shoulder. His grip loosened before his hand moved to cover his wound as blood poured over his arm and she quickly found herself free again. She quickly grabbed her pistol, using her quirk to line up a perfect shot.

His eyes moved up to stare into her own, his smirk widening a bit more. “Well this is fun,” he whispered. “Who knew you were that sneaky…?”

“None of this is fun,” she snapped back at him. “It was your own mistake. You allowed my other arm to be free.”

“No? You’ll break my heart with words like that…”

Miyako cocked the small pistol before her index finger tightened around the trigger. She took a small breath inward…

“What the fuck?!”

A blue flame immediately enveloped her gun and palm. The sheer intensity of the pain caused her to drop the small handgun. She managed to put the flame out on her hand, but the pain… it was unbearable.

“Oh kitten,” he said, almost playfully. “Did you really think I wouldn’t fight back?”

Holding her hand close to her chest, she felt nothing but white hot pain searing through her every nerve at this point. “You melted my gun!” she shouted back at him.

“And hurt your hand by the looks of it,” he commented, shrugging his shoulders.

He was right. She winced lightly, still clutching her injured hand to her chest. Her skin felt as though it were tightening and blistering already - she would for sure have to visit Recovery Girl to make sure nothing serious would come from her injury.

“And you’re still bleeding,” she hissed back at him, her gaze narrowing at the wound she had left with her blade.

His smile faded for a moment while his blue eyes gazed up at her, causing her body to almost freeze from the piercing gaze itself. The corners of his thin lips curled up into a coy smirk before he took a few steps toward her again, shrinking the distance between them to just a foot. “Well,” he whispered, his eyes darting around her face almost searching for something in her pained expression. “You are correct… you have wounded me…” His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth before running it along his lower lip. “Consider this a draw kitten…Until next time Tsutsumi Miyako.”

Confusion filled Miyako’s eyes, realizing that she had never mentioned her actual name to him and for that, what did he even mean until next time? “What?” she shouted. “Wait a minute!”

Another burst of blue flames sent her back into the wall as she used her arms to shield her eyes from the sheer heat. Once the flames had died down, she lowered her arms, finding that Dabi had once again disappeared. A sigh of relief fell from her lips, realizing she had managed to make it out of such a sticky situation with only seemingly minor injuries. Her fingers moved along the singed flesh of her arms, checking the severity of the burns she felt blistering already.

“God damn it,” she hissed to herself, flexing her injured hand before rushing off to the school to visit with Recovery Girl.

---

Wincing, Miyako watched as Recovery Girl placed a special salve after having used her Quirk to heal the majority of the burns. The cooling effect of the salve immediately took effect, causing Miyako’s body to finally relax as she slowly began wrapping bandages around the burns. “How long until this fully heals?” she asked, quietly.

Recovery Girl sighed before looking up at Miyako. “Just a few days,” she explained, crossing her arms once she had finished wrapping the wounds. “These were some fairly serious burns Miyako… what trouble did you get into?”

“Part of the job, I suppose,” Miyako explained, her eyes falling to the floor. “Thought I was about to apprehend the target for the school but…”

Shaking her head, Recovery Girl sat back in her chair. “Promise me you’re going to be careful?” She asked. “These burns were serious… what type of quirk did you fight against.”

“He has blue flames, kind of like Endeavor.”

“Miyako…”

Looking up to meet the judgemental look flashing in Recovery Girl’s eyes, Miyako sighed as she leaned back in her chair. “He’s trying to hurt the students here and he needs to be eliminated. Quickly. I have to take every opportunity to attack. He’s quick but I injured him as well. A few burns won’t slow me down - you know that.”

“...unfortunately I do know that…”

“Come on,” Miyako whined before standing up. “You know I’m always careful in each one of my assassination missions. But getting hurt isn’t completely unavoidable. I’m smart. I’ll figure it out. He just managed to corner me because I got too confident rushing into an alley before checking perimeters.”

“I know but—”

“I’ll see you later,” Miyako said, cutting off Recovery Girl before rushing out of the office trying to avoid another lecture in being “too reckless” even when it had been a one time occurance. Miyako rubbed her eyes as she made her way out of the school and toward her apartment building, needing to take a few days of rest before trying to stake out Dabi again.

“Jackass,” she hissed under her breath as she shoved her bandaged hand into her pocket to fish out her apartment keys. Sighing, she slipped inside the dark apartment before cutting on the lights and shutting the door behind her. She tossed her keys onto the counter, making her way toward the couch before collapsing face first into the plush cushions.

Her hand moved to the coffee table, pawing around aimlessly for the remote before managing to turn the television on for background noise. Slowly, she pushed herself back up as she forced herself to go into her bedroom and change out of her uniform and other gear, and into a black nightgown with a white silk robe over it.

Miyako walked to another closet in the bedroom before opening the door where she placed her sniper rifle inside. She pulled open a drawer before setting the extra ammo away into neat rows with her knives displayed carefully next to it. She closed the drawer before shutting the closet and placing the lock over the handles to keep her weapons secure.

Walking back into the living room, Miyako stopped in front of her television before gazing out the back sliding door that led out to her small balcony. While she wasn’t a “pro hero”, her government job paid well enough that she lived comfortably and happily. The moon gleamed into her apartment, making her smile at the quiet calmness that surrounded her before something shining in the moonlight caught her attention.

“What the hell…” she mumbled, before sliding open the glass door. A few drops of blood splattered on her balcony floor, leading toward the chair she had placed there for her own leisure. Her eyes widened when her gaze stopped to find the knife she had used to injure Dabi now sitting in the chair covered in spots of dried blood.

“How…” she mused before grabbing the knife retreating back inside her apartment, locking the door behind her. Nervously, she nibbled on her lower lip as she walked the knife to her kitchen, tossing it into the sink to wash later. “How did—”

Oh no.

“There’s no way,” she snapped as she walked toward the door and looked around. “He couldn’t have followed me the prick! I would’ve noticed!”

Miyako looked at the small droplets of blood he had left and noticed there were none inside the apartment, which means he somehow got to her third floor apartment from outside… She lifted her eye patch to better gauge the different angles seeing one side of the ledge seemed to have bloodstains… “He came and left from that side but how did he get up here? Unless someone within his group has a quirk that could get him to this level - which is possible...” she questioned, tapping her index finger to her chin. “But, why? He clearly wasn’t trying to surprise attack… he would’ve forced his way inside… and not left my knife free for the taking… unless this is some sick psychological game…”

She paused as she glanced back at the sink where the dirty knife laid. Her guess had to be right… he was just letting her know that he knew where she was, that he could just appear any time of the day or night… But at the same time, why bother returning one of her weapons?

Her mind returned to the earlier encounter she had with Dabi, recalling a comment he had made about her being “fun”. A small sigh escaped her lips as her mind pondered the possibility that maybe for him, that her challenge was more than welcomed by him, that he enjoyed her fight. Perhaps this was his way of showing her that he couldn’t wait for another round?

“What a bizarre man,” she mumbled. “But who am I to try to make sense of villains intentions and MOs. It never makes any sense.” She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration as she made her way to her bedroom. She slipped off the silk robe before tossing it onto a nearby chair as she laid down in her bed. She pulled the sheets and comforter up to her chin as she settled in for a good night’s sleep - or so she hoped.

Meanwhile, outside her apartment complex, Dabi looked up at the balcony having watched her step outside and find his little gift for her.The blood from his shoulder had begun to slow after receiving quick first aid from another league member, but knew he would have to take time to heal and regroup. The corners of his lips curled up into a smirk as he stuffed his hands into his trench coat pockets before turning away.

“Hopefully you enjoyed your little gift,” he said to himself, slipping into a dark alleyway, making his way back to the League’s headquarters. “Can’t wait to play again, kitten…”

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carefulvenom · 5 years

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Bag of Bugles and a Spell

sheogasms said: had an idea for a carol x fem!reader(pre relationship): carol has been trying to hide her feelings for the reader but, on a mission, she gets hit with some charm/spell that makes her even more stupidly in love with the reader. it makes her super soft and extremely flirty towards the reader, no matter who’s around. possible comedic fluff? (also thank you sm for doing these ur writing is amazing and im gonna lowkey keep bothering u w prompts)

A/N: omg this is the cutest prompt ever!! I was super excited to write this although I feel like I suck at fluff!! thank u for sending in I love hearing all of your ideas, hope I do them justice! also, I made Carol a lil bit of a cornball...she’s just weird

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: some language and minor violence/shooting

You’ve had three missions with Carol this month. The missions have been fairly easy and they’re over pretty quickly, which makes sense considering you and Carol are a hell of a team. You and Fury seem to think so and you’re hoping Carol thinks the same. You like spending time with her, even if you’re drenched in blood and dirt and killing people at the same time. There are not many people who you can experience that with, and that’s why Carol is so great. She cracks jokes, you tease each other, you have hilarious banter, she sends funny looks your way when you overhear something stupid over the coms, and she’s very confident and energetic.

So, when you find out Fury had paired the two of you up again, you’re ecstatic. Even if it’s a stakeout mission. You’re geared up and ready to go, standing patiently outside the entrance of the Avengers compound, when you see Carol walk up to you in her suit. She looks great, but she does a stupid dance and spin to show off her suit that you’ve seen endless times. You sarcastically clap.

“Hey, partner,” Carol smiles kindly at you. “Ready to kick- watch some ass?”

You giggle. “Yes, ma’am. Let’s watch that ass.”

You and Carol have laid on the same roof for what seems to be hours. You brought snacks with the hope that you could stay filled up and energized while doing basically nothing. Too bad Carol’s been eating them all. She shakes the last of the bag of Bugles into her mouth and chomps on the crumbs just leaving you to stare at her. She turns her head to look at you and her mouth is full and crunching. You’re staring at her, saying nothing. She’s eating all your damn snacks.

She swallows quickly. “These were to share, right? I’m good?”

“Yeah, they were to share. Too bad you ate them all.” You try to scold her but end up giggling.

“Well don’t blame me! It’s boring! What am I supposed to do, just stare through these binoculars?”

“Yes, Carol, that’s exactly what we’re supposed to do.”

“Well, Y/N, how about I just...ya know...not do that,” Carol suggests, wriggling her eyebrows. But you have no idea what she’s suggesting.

“Fuck are you on about? You’re already doing nothing. You’re not even watching the subject.”

“Perhaps I shall get in on the action myself, m’lady.” Carol proposes with a very bad cockney accent.

“Okay, what?” you sigh and press your fingers to your eyebrows. You’re sat there, shaking your head when you start to laugh. You look up at her and she’s laughing back too.

“I mean...hold my beer.”

“Carol, wh-” you start. There’s not even a beer anywhere.

Carol, of course, makes a big scene by doing jumping off the ledge and doing her trademark superhero landing on the roof of the building in front of you. She starts to run and you immediately get off your feet and jump down to follow her. Of course, she’s running to the action, the girl can’t sit still for more than 5 minutes. You understand that completely, but you don’t understand why she would disturb something that’s meant to be observed. You’re supposed to keep a log and report back to S.H.I.E.L.D with the information. But, Carol decides to run ahead of you and you have to follow her, climbing down fire escape stairways and jumping on trash bins.

You’re finally caught up to her when she hiding on the side of the building you’ve been watching. She’s waiting for a proper time to enter. You genuinely don’t even know what to do. You would try to stop her but you know Carol isn’t one that is stopped. You’d try to talk to her but she’d just run away into the building. You sigh probably a bit too loudly. You suppose you’re going in with her.

The subjects you’ve been watching are a small threat, hence the fact that you’re just watching them instead of capturing them. That might change soon, though. Carol can be a wildcard at times but it’s dealt with considering that she’s just so powerful. She makes a signal with her hand and enters the building. You follow reluctantly with your gun in hand, checking corners and behind you before walking further. She leads you to a room in the back that seems to be empty and looks out of the door cautiously but curiously.

“Carol, we didn’t even check the security. They probably know we’re here.”

She puts her finger up to her mouth, gesturing for you to be quiet. You’re sure your eyes roll back into your head, but she gives you a playful push backward and giggles very lightly.

You’re caught up staring at her and her cheeky smile when you see a person in front of you. Carol is turned towards you, unaware. You duck away quickly, grabbing her by the waist to bring you to the ground with her as your hand extends your gun to shoot. You shoot him, but it’s too late. Carol seems to be unconscious. You try to wake her quickly and look on her for any wounds but you can’t seem to find anything. She must’ve gotten a spell put on her.

You stand up, looking out the doorway. You see two armed men and you shoot both of them, allowing an opportunity to exit. Stealth and speed are very important in this situation, so you grab Carol quickly and you carry her in front of you. You’re running at full speed out of the building with Carol in your arms and you make it far enough down the block into a hidden alleyway to hit your com.

“Carol was being a dumbass. Got a spell put on her or something. She’s unconscious but she has a pulse and vitals seem fine. I’ll be making my way back to the spot. I’ll keep you updated.”

Maria Hill’s voice comes through the speaker. “Okay. Make sure she’s safe and head back as soon as you can. Need any backup?”

“No, I got it. Thank you.” You click off your com.

You decide to go inside the building this time, unlike Carol who decides to jump off things and run down fire escapes. You hurry into the elevator and try to avoid as much eye contact or attention as possible. You head up to the roof and place Carol on the spot where she was laying before.

You wave the empty bag of bugles in her face, smacking her with it. “Hey, goofy, wake up.”

She’s still unconscious. You sigh, and reach your hand back, about to slap her hard. Her eyes flutter open all of a sudden and you immediately pull your hand down.

“Hey! Hey Carol,” you smile. “I’m so glad you’re awake now.”

“Mmmmm,” She moans and sits up slowly, staring at you for a few seconds. “Hey, gorgeous. Goooorgeous. My jaw hits the flooorgeous.”

Your jaw opens and your mouth is agape. You turn your head and chuckle, blushing hard. She never ceases to surprise you. You wonder what type of spell she’s under or what she’s coming off of.

“What, they got you drunk or something?”

“No!” Carol yells, very loudly. She looks and sounds like a toddler. It actually startles you. “But I’m drunk off of youuuu.”

“Okay. Understandable. I’d flirt with me too. But I’m gonna need you to quiet down and help me pick up this stuff so we can go back to the compound,” you reply, trying to keep your cool. She’s flirting with you and you love it. You’ve been waiting for this.

“You cute dumbass! I’ve been flirting with you this whole time!” Carol yells again. She definitely sounds drunk, but man, are you reveling in this. It feels so good to hear.

“No, listen here. You’re the dumbass. Be quiet and let’s go.”

“Ooooooooh. Yes, ma’am!” she salutes. “A woman in charge. That’s what I like about you. Not to mention how beautiful you are.”

You’re actually blushing like crazy, but you’re worried she’s not meaning anything she’s saying, so you’re trying to be serious. Also, you’ve got places to be.

“Carol, can you ple-”

“And THAT ASS. It’s a MARVEL. Captain Marvelous Ass over here! God damn!” She starts cracking up at her own joke and you can’t help but laugh too. You knew you’d have fun on this mission.

“You’ve got a pretty nice ass too, Miss Drunk Toddler.”

“I am not a trunk ogler!” Carol whines, crawling over to you and placing her head on your shoulder. You're both sitting criss-cross and staring off at the cityscape. “I am a Y/N lover. And I love it.”

“Carol, you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You drive me crazy. In a good way and a bad way.” Mostly bad way. You’re always blushing whenever she’s around, and you’re always wanting to just place your hand on hers. You like Carol. You have ever since you met her.

“Let’s go to the museum and get ice cream. I want to take you on a date. Take you to paradise.” she drifts off, then gasps. “Two tickets to paradise! Eddie Money!”

“Yeah, that’s right. Eddie Money.” You say softly, looking down at her. You can see the moonlight accentuate how her eyelashes lay on her cheek. You can see her blonde hair framing her beautiful face in just a way that makes you want to kiss her nose. You can see a smile sitting on her lips and a dreamy sigh come out of her mouth.

“I like you, Y/N. I want to be your girlfriend. I want to take care of you, I want to do everything together. I’m starting to feel a little bit more normal. But this is right. Feels good.”

“Does feel good, doesn’t it Carol? I like you too. I always have.” you smile down at her.

She looks up at you, surprised. She nearly gasps. She pats your chest excitedly, like a child or a dog, and she leans her head back on your shoulder.

“Although I’d be the one taking care of you, you big dummy.” you tease, tousling her hair and then kissing her head. “I hope you remember this.”

You sit in silence for a bit, feeling the breeze run through your hair and the warmth in your heart radiate to your body. You’re happy, and you’re staring at the city and stars in front of you. You have Carol, what else could you need?

Maria’s voice comes through your com again, startling you. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, she’s just a little out of it. We’ll be packing up in a second and we’re gonna need a car.”

“Sounds good.”

You nudge Carol and stand up, extending your arm for her to grab your hand. You lift her up and she doesn’t let go of your hand.

“Can we pack up now, please?” You ask her, softly. She nods quickly and grabs the binoculars on the ground as you fold up the blanket. You take the binoculars from her and put them in your backpack. Putting the backpack on, you extend your hand for Carol’s again. She’s picking up the Bugles bag and looking inside, frowning.

“You literally just ate them all. Did you think they were going to reappear?”

“Shut up. Maybe I did.” Carol laughs and takes your hand. You make your way down to the lobby and get in the backseat of the car. The driver nods to you and you nod back. Carol rests her head on your shoulder again.

After tucking Carol into bed, you find your way to yours and plop down face first. You squeal and smile into your pillow and hope to god she remembers this. Or at least, meant it.

You wake up in the morning and check your phone first thing. There’s a text from Carol.

I meant it all. We still going for ice cream and a museum trip?

Oh, and I’m sorry for eating all your Bugles. I’ll get you more on our date.

All you can do is smile as you lay down in your bed, taking in the warmth of the sunlight shining through your window.

Finally.

#carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers fluff #carol danvers x fem reader #carol danvers x reader fluff

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lupin-bun · 7 years

Text

A Wing and a Prayer - Chapter 1 (A Yondu fic)

A/N: I finally worked up the guts to post the first chapter of my first fic. People seemed to like the extracts from my Yondu/El writing so I’m hoping this does ok (please be kind! The internet really fucking scares me!) Yondu and El encounter each other for the first time and things don’t get off to the BEST start...

Yondu/El (Yondu/OC)

Warnings: Nudity, violence, blood

***

The crew cheered as the M-ships powered away from Terra and back to the Eclector, leaving that small, stupid band of high-and-mighty Terrans behind. “Protecting Earth from alien threat” Yondu's blue arse! As far as he could see, they were doing a shit job of it so far. Hell, breaking into their headquarters hadn't even been that hard, all things considered (well... that dumb bird-lizard abomination wasn't exactly a walk in the park, but Kraglin would recover fairly swiftly, Yondu reasoned... and ok, that creature that looked like a sentient scrotum with teeth had caused a few issues but still...). Yondu sat in the pilot seat, one hand on the controls, the other playing with the piece of tech they'd swiped, grinning to himself, jagged, metallic teeth glinting in the Terran sun.

“We did good this time, Kraglin!” Yondu was congratulating himself (and the crew, indirectly). Kraglin grinned smugly from the co-pilot seat next to him, one arm tied to his chest with a makeshift sling he'd made from his belt, the other on his half of the controls. Yondu shifted himself down as they left Terra's atmosphere behind, lifting one foot onto his knee as he studied the tech in detail. It wasn't big, about as long as Yondu's hand. But it was curved and seemed to be made of two identical components that clicked together like those funny little building blocks that were so popular with Terran children. The whole thing was uniform black and a couple of little blue lights on it blinked every now and then. But, other than that, it didn't seem to do much. Someone MUST want it, though. They'd been offered 3.5million units for this seemingly insignificant thing.

“We taking it to the Broker today, Cap'n?” Kraglin queried. Yondu shook his blue head.

“Nah. I reckon the Collector'd pay us more'n that.”

“More'n 3.5 million?” Kraglin asked, astonished. Yondu chuckled and gently pulled the 2 halves of the gizmo apart. They divided neatly with a small *click*.

“How's about 3.5, per piece?” He said with a smirk.

Kraglin grinned. His Captain was a genius. If there was ever a way to make more out of a deal, you could bet everything you had that Yondu would find it. That was just how he was. And he wouldn't care that he was double-crossing the Broker either. It's not like the Broker would be able to do much other than apologise profusely to his client and hope they weren't someone who'd kill or eat him for failing them. Kraglin made a mental note to inform the others of the change of plan when they got back to the ship. He left Yondu to his musings for a moment and turned his head to check the scanner screens. It was then he noticed something odd.

“Cap'n...” Kraglin said, slowly.

“Mm?” Was Yondu's reply, preoccupied as he was with his prize.

“Did we take any o' them creatures we saw?”

Yondu turned his head to look at his first mate with a confused scowl. What use did they have for any of the poor beasts they'd found locked up in the cells and in cages in that pathetic excuse of an underground fort? Sure, some of them had been big but most had looked next to useless. They had been battered, tired looking and weak.

“Why?” Yondu asked shortly.

Kraglin tapped the monitor he was looking at to zoom in on a particular part of the M-ship, where they usually carried cargo. Sure enough, there it was. The red glow of a third life-sign on the crackling, light blue screen. Yondu hauled himself out of his seat so that he could lean over Kraglin and get a closer look. It wasn't moving. It was entirely stationary. So, whatever it was, maybe it was asleep. Yondu scratched his chin as he considered.

“Maybe we got one o' them dogs er cats from Terra crawled aboard and found a nice, cozy spot.” He said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Want me to go deal with it, Cap?” Kraglin asked, reaching for his gun with his good hand. But Yondu put up his own hand with a decisive shake of his head. Something about this just didn't feel right. Maybe it was the way it sat completely still or maybe it was the thought that a creature might have escaped that Terran place. Whatever the case, Yondu had the quicker weapon.

“I'll go. I wanna see it fer myself.” With a swish of his long coat, Yondu turned to walk down into the tiny cargo bay. He went slowly down the metal steps, trying to step lightly in his heavy boots so that he didn't wake whatever was down here. The light wasn't great down here. There were a few shadowy places that a creature could hide. Piping, air vents, metal grills on the floor. Yondu strained his ears to try to pick up any tiny sounds this creature might make.

“See anythin', Captain?” came Kraglin's voice over the tannoy. Yondu nearly jumped out of his azure blue skin.

“Not now, boy!” He tried to shout and whisper at the same time. “Yah try'na get me killed?”

“No. Sorry Cap'n.”

“Shut the damn thing off!”

There was a slight crackle as the tannoy deadened but it wasn't quite enough to hide the scuffling noise that made Yondu spin in place and stare into a corner. The corner was next to pitch black but Yondu could see something there. And the something knew it had been spotted. Just as Yondu was about to take a tentative step...

“Stay where you are, Centaurian.” a voice demanded in the gloom.

“Well ya ain't no cat.” Yondu observed... kind of. He shifted his weight onto one leg and stood there, staring into the darkness, hand on his hip (poised ready to pull the side of his coat back, should he need his arrow). “What are ya?”

“I'm as rare as you,” came the reply.

The silver barrel of a small handgun appeared from the darkness. It moved forwards, the darkness pulling back like a veil to reveal first a slender blue hand, then an arm, then a shoulder, then feet, then body, then finally face.

“and I'm taking this ship.”

She looked broadly humanoid. She was roughly Yondu's height (perhaps an inch or two shorter), she had a medium build and her skin was a very pale blue all over. She had short cropped hair that was a darker blue to the rest of her and there were twin, coal-coloured tear marks running from each eye to the corners of her mouth. She stood, entirely naked before Yondu and her large, bright green eyes stared at him with a strange mix of fear, fury... and triumph.

Yondu only smirked as he looked at her. If she didn't have a gun in his face, he might have been tempted to find her attractive. As it was, this defiant creature just looked somewhat pitiful and desperate. In one fluid move, Yondu pulled his coat aside and whistled once, quickly. His golden Yaka arrow flew from its holster and came to a halt, an inch from this creature's head.

“I'd wager my arrow's quicker than yer gun, girl.” Yondu growled, quietly. The two stared at each other for a second, Yondu calm but threatening, the woman angry but stubborn. After a pregnant pause, the woman tossed the handgun away. It clanged loudly across the metal floor and slid to a stop near some piping. Yondu smirked again and nodded. “Yer smart. Now jus-...”

But, with a flash, she was gone. Dumbfounded, Yondu looked around him, searching desperately for the stowaway. A pale blue cat streaked past his shins and made for a vent. “What the-...!?” Yondu whistled and his arrow lodged itself in the metal edge of the vent, blocking her way. The cat stopped where it was. There was a flash and, in its place, was a mouse. It made a leap for the vent but Yondu had closed the gap between himself and her and had just enough time to put his foot down in the mouse's path. The mouse bounced off his foot, then turned tail and bolted in the opposite direction. Yondu whipped round with a snarl. The mouse made a leap and flashed again and suddenly there was a bat flying through the air. Annoyed, Yondu whistled. This time the arrow flew straight at the bizarre shape shifter. There was a clang and a screech. The bat flapped and writhed, pinned to the wall by the arrow which had gone straight through its fragile wing membrane. There was a wobble in the air as though some massive heat haze had sprung out of nowhere. The bat warped and flickered for a moment as though Yondu were looking at it on a faulty screen. A moment later, the bat was gone and the woman was back, panting and grimacing in pain, the arrow through her forearm, dark ink-blue blood running from the wound. She hissed at him, displaying thin fangs.

“Tha's a neat li'l trick you got there.” Yondu remarked, not altogether insincerely. He'd not come across a shape shifter quite like her before. Most he'd seen were able to change size or grow wings or extend limbs (among other things). He'd not encountered a shape shifter who was able to alter her entire structure before. “But ya should'a chosen someth'n that could fight.”

The woman said nothing but continued to stare furiously at him. The air wobbled and flickered again but weakly this time. The bat appeared for a brief moment then vanished, leaving the woman standing, exhausted and in pain, still pinned to the wall. Her attempt had been valiant but she didn't have it in her to take over this ship really. She was too tired. Too weak. She panted and bowed her head, knowing that she was beaten.

Yondu whistled and the arrow pulled itself free. The woman cried out in pain as it removed itself from her arm and the arrow head aggravated the wound, allowing the blood to flow quicker, dripping onto the floor. Her arm dropped to her side and she clutched it to try and stop the bleeding but she stubbornly remained standing as Yondu sauntered over to her.

Up close, he could see a long, white scar that ran the length of her sternum from where her collarbones met, to the point where her ribs joined at the bottom of her ribcage. It looked old but it had been traumatic. He could tell. What had happened to her? Why had she wanted to escape Terra so badly? Yondu decided to try a different tactic, seeing as force didn't seem to be working.

“Ya gonna come nice and quiet?” Yondu asked, calmly, with as friendly a tone as he could manage. In one last ditch effort, the woman lurched forwards, fangs bared, attempting to inflict any damage she possibly could. But it was useless. Deep down, she knew that. Dropping his friendly act, Yondu put out a hand and, grabbing her by the head, pushed her backwards, roughly. She stumbled back, hitting the back of her head on the wall she'd previously been pinned to, then dropped to the metal floor, unconscious.

#yondu #yondu/el #yondu udonta #fanfiction #fanfic #Guardians of the Galaxy #My dear husband!#how I love you!

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spiteandalice · 7 years

Text

Judas Touch Pt. 4

Yeah, yeah, I’m an asshole that never updates because life sucks and I’m not writing anything else, absolutely not. If it helps any, I roleplay on another platform and people have been waiting for my replies for EVER. I know it doesn’t, but I tried.

This contains language and a bit of violence, not really smut (spoiler alert). Sorry.

@beautifulramblingbrains and @beltz2016

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

The next morning is a day off and I wake up half buried under a mountain of hair and muscles - I’m on my back and Eric is half on top of me, his face in the crook of my neck. Even worse, both my arms are wrapped around him and even though my neck hurts I don’t really feel like moving. It’s as if we had this unspoken rule about no touching and since that was broken by a stupid foot hooked over my leg all bets are off now. And I’m not sure if I mind or not. Not yet.

Well, actually, I need to pee and my neck really does hurt like a bitch. Not to mention all the cuts and bruises that are still healing. I try to sort of wiggle out from underneath him, which he immediately reacts to by grinding his hips against me. We are both naked and I can feel him harden against the inside of my thigh.

“Don’t even think about it, I need to get ready for my appointment. You know, the one with the birth control shot.”

Eric grumbles and I realize that this is the second time I’m awake before him. Usually he would be sitting in the kitchen going over paperwork because Mr. Posterboy never takes a day off. It’s beneath him to have a life outside of leadership duties, actually having a life is for peasants, not robots. Although I’m beginning to think that he just didn’t have anything better to do with his time. Maybe.

“Any plans for today?”

The way he lazily stretches and refuses to roll off me admittedly does things to me and I am half resigned to giving in to a different primal urge before leaving the bed. I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad to have a quickie right about now. Except that our quickies aren’t always so quick, at least not when we’re not pressed for time or have to worry about getting caught like that one time in the Pit.

“Going back to bed as soon as they poked me with that needle, probably. I kind of enjoy a bed and sheets and all of that.”

I feel him frown against my skin, we have yet to discuss the finer details of my captivity. Eric wasn’t around for my questioning after I came back. Which is strange, because the other leaders were there, although I suspect that that was not at all coincidental. Either he kept himself away or Max did, for everyone’s safety... And I’m sure he has seen the transcripts, if not the actual video footage they surely kept for posterity. Anyway, I’m not about to discuss that with him, not like this, not ever. Eric bites my neck and I slap his shoulder, feeling him chuckle more than hearing it.

Maybe I’m going soft but this is something I’m not entirely opposed to happening again. But not now. Not when I need to make sure I don’t get pregnant. It’s not technically something I am supposed to be doing, since older Dauntless are supposed to multiply like rabbits unless there is a valid medical reason for it, but given my recent trauma I was granted an extension of that courtesy. Now that I’m a leader there will be more pressure about breeding, something Eric is only vaguely subjected to because he doesn’t have a womb. Funny how that goes, isn’t it.

On my way to the infirmary, one of the first routes most Dauntless memorize along with the training room, dorms and feeding hole, a lackey stops me, looking quite agitated.

“Max needs to speak to you, he’s in the conference room.”

Rolling my eyes I send a quick message to move my appointment to a later time slot for the day and swerve around a few mingling Dauntless to get to the conference room overlooking the stupid Pit. One of the milling people is Four and I briefly nod at him before I realize he is coming in as well. This can’t be good. At all. For a moment I consider kind of rubbing against him, just to see if Eric can smell his arch nemesis on me and if he would react in a way that would be beneficial for myself. Again, angry sex is the best we usually have. At least one of us usually is, anyway.

Instead there is talk about a Factionless problem, a relatively small group has assembled and is moving towards Amity. Apparently they are armed and our guards out there are completely useless, as usual. After just a brief back and forth, Max wanted my input because I was often out there as ambassador, I am voluntold to lead a squad that will go out there, kick some ass, and get shit done. Four strongly protests my involvement because I can “barely hold myself upright” as he said. I raise an eyebrow at him as I glare, with my arms crossed and he mutters something that could be “creepy”. My humble request to get a cape and some theme song blasting as we drive is denied with a stern look, so I go suit up and head out within less than fifteen minutes. There wasn’t any time to inform Eric, which has nothing to do with the fact that he would have come stomping across the compound to physically drag me away from the armored truck and chain me to his bed. I mean, no complaints about the second part, but under different circumstances. I don’t really want to be out there, but safety in numbers, right? Last time I was traveling by myself. Now we’re ten highly specialized and well trained soldiers, what could go wrong.

As it turns out, a lot.

The small gathering with a potential for unrest has quickly morphed into a fairly large mingling of shouting people and quite a few of them are armed and not at all happy to see us. We spread out to circle them, they have congregated in an abandoned warehouse district because of course they did, and we all pull off strategic moves like this in our sleep. That is, unless someone has to piss on our parade. That’s right, piss. This is much more disgusting than mere rain.

“Mina, watch the rooftops, I’m seeing movement up there.”

Four is in one of the trucks, a surveillance unit, keeping track of anything. It has paid off in the past, the Erudites have revived some ancient technology and brought it up to modern standards. So now we have cameras that pick up on body heat that are mobile and zip around overhead, which is nice.

Seconds later I hear the first screams, and the fact that I could put names and faces to those voices that drift over to me through the noise of gunshots is making my stomach turn.

“Take cover, for fuck’s sake!”

I duck into a gaping hole that used to be a loading bay and look around, waiting for the snipers to show themselves. One is dumb enough to show his head and I take him out with my rifle. Killing off my team ruined my already sour mood and I forget about not wanting to be out here, or being the last one standing so they can drag me back to their stupid leader for some more torture. Not gonna happen, not today or ever. Assholes.

“Status report, you fuckers better be alive or I’m going to personally drag you out of hell!”

One after the other they pipe up, two reporting minor injuries, but nothing they can’t walk off. Well, Alex might have some problems with that because the idiot got shot in the leg. Seriously.

After some back and forth we agree to rendezvous at a building just north of this clusterfuck, because at this point I’m not entirely certain that some moron isn’t listening in to our conversations. If the Factionless have guns, who knows what else they have? Most of them weren’t born into this, they bring a mixed bag of knowledge from their Factions of birth with them and Matthews can ramble about her insanely paranoid bullshit all she wants, she can’t tell me that having this disenfranchised group of pissed off people gathered unsupervised somewhere in the city is a great idea. But I’m not stupid enough to think that anyone would listen to me even now, as a leader.

Alex limps in last, held up by Tyler, and we huddle together. We briefly discuss our options when I hear an explosion. Because of course they are blowing shit up now, when has anything ever been easy? The entrance to the building crumbles and we are temporarily blinded by dust. I try to radio Four but communication has been cut off entirely.

Sigh.

We position ourselves along the windows of the first floor, there is a less than trustworthy metal runway along the walls that sways ever so slightly every time one of us moves. The streets are eerily empty and I am pretty sure it will not stay like this for long. We keep the people to our left and right within sight and I communicate my commands via hand signals. If anyone out there is listening they can think we’re dead, it will make putting a bullet through their heads so much more fun. It must be colder than I thought because I’m shaking.

After a little over an hour I give up, I will not sit here and starve for nothing, as tempting as it sounds. I carefully look over the streets below us, a lot of the buildings are nothing but the crumbling remains of the outer walls, so they don’t really provide any shelter. I linger a moment too long and a bullet takes out a chunk of the brick next to my head. Fuckers! But where are they hiding? There is nothing… then it hits me. If you don’t look from the right angle you can’t see it but they built walls in front of walls, from the materials of the crumbling buildings, creating perfect spots for Factionless with guns to hide out without being seen. They planned this!

With a low whistle I get Luke’s attention, he’s to my left, and signal to him. This form of communication has come in so handy way too often for me not to be grateful for hours of barely staying awake trying to learn this shit. I task them all to look for these spots, to count just how many rebels we are dealing with so we can pick them off, one by one. They probably think that we will come out sooner or later, and I almost did walk into my own demise. It’s an unpleasant thought but it helps me fight against the tremors that are still rippling through my entire body.

Maybe I really wasn’t ready for this after all.

Alex is the one that figures out that there is just one post far off on his side so I forgive him for getting shot, he’s making up for it right now. There is no reason for anyone to give me cover, since they obviously don’t have to come out of hiding to shoot us. The exit has been blown to smithereens and the back entrance is blocked from the outside so I have no choice but to leave through a window. There is a halfway intact building right next to ours that is at an angle that ensures that I won’t be seen by all but one of our playmates so I’ll have to take a chance. Leaving my team with detailed instructions I carefully lean out of the window that hasn’t had a glass in it for what looks like decades, and try not to acknowledge the ten foot drop below me.

Heights are a common occurrence in fear landscapes to the point of boring me to tears so I am good.

Trying not to think about smashing to the concrete below and splintering bones I assess the distance once more, take a step back and hurl myself out of the small opening. The roof of the adjacent building makes a less than reassuring sound when I drop onto it, but other than that it is eerily quiet. Those bastards must have heard me, there is no way they haven’t.

So I stay low as I creep across the rubble towards what used to be a skylight, hoping that luck is on my side for once and that there is no glass or rusted shut metal keeping me from sneaking out.

Who would have thought, it used to be a metal trapdoor that is entirely missing. Score one for team Dauntless. There is no ladder anywhere in sight but a pile of gravel underneath that makes the impact almost painless, at least would if you weren’t injured already. I grit my teeth and curse inwardly, that’ll have to do for now. A quick glance at my watch tells me that we have been gone for almost three hours, without radio contact for over two. Eric must be livid.

I duck and approach one of the windows at street level, I should be directly behind the lone outpost on this side, as I peek over the ledge I see a man in Amity jacket and Erudite shirt in his late thirties who falls back when I shoot him between the eyes.

Moments later the building I am taking shelter in is going up in flames and I’m forced to give up my cushy hiding spot. Someone is giving me cover as I sprint across the street, painfully aware of every bone and muscle in my body. Just as I lunge for the remainders of an old car bullets begin to rain down on me and one grazes my shoulder. Cursing loudly I roll behind it, landing on the gritty asphalt with my newly injured shoulder. With a loud scream I get back up and begin walking towards the corner of the street where most of the snipers are hiding, fresh out of fucks.

When I come back to I am looking at about twenty bodies on the way from the car to the square where their group was assembled earlier. Peering around the corner of the dilapidated building I see that the crowd is still there and in a panic, but they can’t go anywhere. I’m in one of four roads leading to the square, two others are effectively blocked by my team, who pick off anyone who decides to come too close. I can’t even begin to formulate just how proud that sight is making me feel right now. They got out of the building and came over here all on their own, brainless soldiers my ass! The fourth access is where they blew up yet another something.

Squinting I look a little closer and realize that they didn’t explode anything. Someone shot a missile into the crowd from an armored truck that definitely did not leave the compound with us.

“The fuck do I care about your technical mumbo-jumbo, Four. Find the right channel, today, or I swear I will add at least six more fears to your landscape.”

That angry snarling suddenly coming through the earpiece is music in my ears, honestly, but he can’t come barging in like some overly territorial mutt every single fucking time I’m leaving the walls of Dauntless. I mean, he’s only done it once but that’s already too much.

“Have you come to undermine my authority, <i>fellow leader</i>?”

I can see his head whip around even from a distance and can’t help but grin. Maybe sprinting across the square would be a little too cheesy, but he stalks while I limp so I guess that’s as close as it gets at this point. He grabs me and growls, I laugh and I could swear we even kiss briefly, but there was rubble raining down on my head so I probably just have a concussion. Alex and I are the only ones injured and they drag us, well me, onto the truck Eric came in on and shuttle us back to the compound for some serious medical attention. I sit in the back with Eric, Alex passed out on a gurney a few feet away. It’s hard to ignore the glare that is currently drilling holes into my skull.

“What, Eric,” I finally spit because the whole patience thing has never really worked well for me. “Do you want me to thank you for acting like some crazy idiot just because I went on a mission? You know, we have this awesome, modern gadget they call a phone. You can use it to contact people instead of going into full on idiot mode and blowing up half the city.”

To illustrate my point I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket to wave it in his face. In the process I realize that the screen is black because the battery died. Unfortunately Eric notices, too, and I want to wipe that smirk off his face.

“Now that you know what a phone is let me introduce you to the invention that goes with it, we call it a charger…”

That smirk disappears when my phone hits him in the forehead.

“What the fuck!”

I double over with silent laughter, but then I realize that my ribs are at least bruised, if not broken, and it hurts too much to laugh. So I scowl at him instead, which doesn’t have the desired effect at all. Eric goes serious all of a sudden and grabs me, ignoring my protests, and pulls me onto his lap.

“You seriously need to stop getting yourself in danger like that.”

The armored truck hits a really deep pothole and I hit my head on the roof, making me see stars for just a moment. Eric pulls my head against his shoulder with a surprising lack of force, and I let him. I’m too tired to put up much of a fight anyway,

“Eric, honey, we’re Dauntless. This is what we’re supposed to do.”

That barely audible mumbling that contains more creative swear words than you’d hear during an hour long sparring session at any given time is answer enough, apparently he doesn’t agree with me on that one. We’re supposed to be super awesome super soldiers but this new direction we’re headed in seems to be geared towards mindless numbskulls with big arms. Instead of dignifying that with a response I close my eyes and let the engine noise lull me to sleep. It almost feels as if a hand is gently stroking my head but that’s just my concussion talking.

PART FIVE

#eric divergent #eric divergent fanfiction #jai courtney fanfiction #eric dauntless #eric divergent/ofc #eric dauntless/ofc #judas touch

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ironinkpen · 7 years

Text

the bayard is the paladin is the lion: a season 3 prediction

Alternatively titled: Watch This Child Jeopardize Her GPA in Real Time As She Ignores Her Midterms to Write Yet Another Fucking Meta

The lovely @littleblackchats already wrote an awesome post about the symbolism of the bayards for each of the characters in Voltron. But I was wondering: could we take it a step further and use the weapons - and what they say symbolically about the paladins wielding them - to make an informed guess about who’s going to end up in what lion next season?

(even if the answer to that question is no, i’m already writing this so whatever)

Since Allura, Keith, and Lance are the most likely to be swapped into new lions (or, in Allura’s case, to be put into a lion for the first time), I thought it’d be cool to take a look at what the weapons each of them wields says about their personalities, and whether that can give us hints as to who’s gonna be the Black Paladin next season while Shiro’s gone.

Alright, so in episode 1, Allura tells us that a lion’s quintessence is mirrored in its paladin, and that the paladin shapes the bayard. So lion = paladin = bayard. The lion and paladin should be similar in personalty, and the bayard should be compatible to the paladin’s style of fighting and personality as well. This is shown really well in Hunk and Pidge: Pidge’s weapon is small (like her), electric (reflecting her interest in computers), and made for precision (Pidge is more interested in finding clever solutions than just brute-forcing problems), while Hunk’s is big (just like him), long-range (reflecting his wish to stay distanced from conflict), and packs a punch (Hunk is the strongest character on the team, after all).

So the weapons tell us something about the personalities of the ones using them. But what can their respective weapons tell us about Keith, Lance, and Allura?

Let’s start with Mr. “I want you to lead Voltron” himself:

Keith’s weapon is a sword, which is all sorts of metaphorical fun. Swords in literature (besides being like. hella phallic lmao) are usually associated with the archetype of the knight.

The knight character usually brings to mind two sets of traits: leadership, wisdom, chivalry, and arrogance (yay phallic symbolism) and on the flip side, hot bloodedness, passion, youth, romance, inexperience, and naiveté. Knighthood stories usually either follow an older, wiser knight as they go on a quest (usually to repay an old debt of some sort, a la Beowulf), or a younger, bright-eyed knight as they set out on an adventure of some sort (which typically involve a pretty girl in some way). Two very different possible characterizations! As you can see, sword imagery is a... double edged sword.

(I’ll show myself out)

Keith doesn’t have the naiveté or sense of romance that young knights often have, but the traits of hot bloodedness, passion, and youth fit him well. He’s definitely an impulsive character, prone to charging into battle without a plan:

(it was such a bad idea that Hunk thought it was a joke sldkjf)

The sword itself is a very impulsive, instinctive weapon. Sword fighting is about being faster than your opponent and values making the first strike. It’s also a reaction-based weapon that requires that you respond to your opponent’s attacks. Instinct is key in sword fighting– you have to be able to quickly respond when a blow is coming at you. This fits into the whole “relies on instinct more than skill alone” thing of the Red Lion.

The sword is also a weapon of violence. Knights were... usually not actually great, noble guys in practice. Keith subverts that whole mess by being a genuinely nice kid, but we see the bloodthirstiness typically associated with his weapon in scenes like at the end of season 1, where he charges in to attack Zarkon despite the fact that that’s. A really bad idea. Like I said, Keith’s a passionate character, and that can often translate into stabbiness with him.

As a close-range weapon, swords require that their users be brave enough to get close to their enemy. The user also has to be pretty confident that they’ll be able to handle themselves in a fight, because you gotta get like super close to someone that wants to kill you and be fairly certain that you’re the one who’s gonna make it out alive. Definitely Keith.

The sword is also tied with the traits of adventure, protection, and duty. Keith kicks off half of this whole Voltron adventure by going to get Shiro (Lance brings Pidge and Hunk along and finishes the party). His protective instinct is seen when he saves Shiro in season 2, covers Lance when they fight together, and tries to leave the team because he thinks they’re being tracked through them. His sense of duty is seen when he argues that Pidge can’t leave the team to go after her family bc they need her for Voltron (like... not ur call tho buddy) and when he turns away from his past in BoM to save people.

And it’s a rebel’s weapon! Which totally fits the whole “had a discipline issue and flunked out” thing at the Garrison. My boy doesn’t like authority at all lmao. When Coran tries to stop him from fighting Zarkon he just. Runs off and does it anyway. I love him.

Another motif often tied to swords is brotherhood. “Brothers in arms,” and all that. In that scene with the Blade Of Marmora, the armor Keith’s wearing is meant to show the wearer’s hopes and fears, and he sees Shiro, someone he considers a brother, walking away from him. The choice he is forced to make in this scene is between knowledge and companionship, and then between knowledge and heroism, which is telling of what Keith values as a person. He actually chooses knowledge over companionship during his conversation with Shiro, which... actually doesn’t really fit with the knight motif at all. But he then chooses heroism over knowledge, turning away from the answers to his past, which does. Either way, the decision to pick his past over his friends was clearly a difficult one to Keith, which makes sense, as knights are often more interested in interpersonal relationships and saving others than the pursuit of wisdom.

(Interestingly, though, Lance calls Keith a “samurai” in the comic, and the samurai archetype is often associated with traits like loneliness, wandering, and being lost. So while Keith clearly places value in bonds with others, like a knight, it seems that in practice he behaves more like the lonely samurai. Aw :( )

At his core, Keith is a very loyal character, both to the cause of saving the Universe and to his teammates. And this is consistent with his weapon. Knights are often sworn to a lord or lady or cause that they’ll fight for. With Keith, that cause and those people are Team Voltron.

Alright so that’s a lot on Keith. Now onto Lance:

His bayard’s a gun! Also super phallic lol. But ignoring that, let’s talk about what this says about Lance!

Alright, so for one thing, Lance’s weapon is built for medium to long range fighting. It’s a weapon that requires distance from the opponent. This shows a tendency to disengage when possible, which is absolutely consistent with Lance’s character. He prefers to think up a plan rather than charge right in.

Lance’s weapon also calls upon the archetype of the sniper. When you think of a sniper, the trait of patience probably comes to mind– the sniper of the group is usually the guy sitting up on a high place, observing the lay of the land and quietly waiting around to make their shot. While it may seem at first glance like Lance’s loud-mouthed, hyper personality doesn’t fit this archetype at all, it… actually does. Really, really well.

(God this shot (heh) always gives me shivers)

Take this scene for example. Lance, despite the closing doors, the fact that he’s just been shot out into space, and the stress on him (they need Slav for their whole plan to work), makes the shot and saves Slav. And he waits for the perfect moment before shooting. The cool-headedness he shows here is astounding.

Plus, think of his Garrison backstory. He was a cargo class pilot at the Garrison despite wanting to be fighter class. But did he give up? Not at all. He continued to work to be top of his class so that when a slot opened up, he was able to be moved up into fighter class. And he did this with no indication that a place would even open up in the first place. He was likely working for quite some time before Keith got kicked out. He’s actually a pretty patient character!!

On the flip side, though, there’s the idea of the “itchy trigger finger.” Lance doesn’t always think things through– he can also be pretty hotblooded and passionate and make snap (read: bad) decisions (like in the case of his thirst for Nyma, for one). That also says something interesting about his character: impulse = bad when it comes to Lance. An itchy trigger finger is a negative thing. While with the sword, passion and energy can be good, noble things, the gun is a weapon that almost exclusively causes harm when used impulsively. Keith’s impulses tend to be on the right path, while Lance’s are usually bad.

The gun ultimately requires focus. When a sniper’s eye strays from the scope, the shot’s lost. A lot of the times Lance messes up in when he’s looking at the people around him for approval / praise instead of focusing on the task. In episode 1 he crashes the simulator because he’s bragging, at one point in season 1 he crashes into something when boasting to Shiro about how he’s not an amateur, etc. etc. However, in situations like the above where Lance is focusing on a task and not on the opinions of others, he’s extremely effective.

This plays interestingly with another trait of the sniper archetype: observation. A sniper is often looking at things from a higher vantage point and watching others. While they have to be focused, they also have to be aware of the things around them. When he talks about his team during the episode with the prison break in season 2, Lance easily describes each of their strengths, and in season 1, he’s able to tell that the bomb isn’t Rover almost immediately, because Pidge isn’t with it. For someone that seems so self-absorbed at first glance, Lance is very in tune with the people in his environment and the environment itself.

On that note, the gun, like the sword, is a weapon of decisiveness. There’s really no taking back a shot bullet, just as it’s hard to stop a blade once it’s swung. The user of a gun must use it at the right moment, and with precise aim. In the scene above where he’s rescuing Slav, Lance only gets one shot (heh) to do what he can. And he follows through with one decisive flick of his finger.

But that edges into the dark side of the gun. While there’s definitely the trait of cool-headedness associated with gun users, this can also toe the line of cruelty. Characters with guns can be lone wolves and cold-blooded killers– the distance from their opponents makes them more able to detach from the act of killing. There’s also an aspect of cowardice to it, as the user often doesn’t face their opponents head to head.

I’d say that the narrative tosses that set of traits aside for Lance, though. When saving Slav, Lance goes for the warden’s arm, not a killing shot. Lance uses his gun to minimize damage, not cause it-- he often shows a preoccupation with the well-being of others (like when he reminds Keith to be careful with the Balmera because they’re alive). And Lance is definitely pretty brave (like when he pushes Coran out of the way of that bomb). His talkative personalty also subverts the lone wolf trope. However, the fact that his weapon requires distance can be a reflection of the loneliness he feels (he thinks he’s a seventh wheel :’( ).

Last, but definitely not least, we move onto Allura:

Alright, so the thing about Allura is that she doesn’t actually have a bayard. She does, however, have a weapon of choice, which is a staff.

(more… phallic imagery…….)

I’ll be honest, my knowledge of martial arts is limited and my English classes don’t typically cover staffs (heh), because none of the characters in the books I’ve read so far actually like… use staffs to fight. BUT I’ll try my best lmao

The staff has an interesting duality to it: on one hand, it’s a very firm weapon that requires strength and a good, firm stance to wield, while on the other, it’s a very flexible weapon that allows its user to change direction and move. This matches Allura’s character well. She can be really stern and really stubborn (when she insists on going into the ship in season 1, when she runs off with Keith, when she refuses to work with the BoM, etc.), but she’s also adaptable and flexible (when she wakes up and is like “yeah okay I guess I slept for 10000 years,” when she trains the paladins despite their being young and inexperienced because hey, they’re what we’ve got, when she works with the Blade of Marmora despite the fact that the Galra killed her entire people, etc.). Allura digs her heels in at times and lets herself go with the flow at others.

The staff is a weapon of strength and steadiness, one that has the ability to withstand blows. Allura goes through like. So much through the story, what with her losing her home, her people, and then her father’s AI. But despite that, she doesn’t crumble. Girl’s strong as hell.

But, on the flip side, it’s also a weapon of lightfootedness, a la Aang from Avatar the Last Airbender. I mentioned mobility and flexibility earlier, and that’s absolutely relevant to Allura. The staff allows its user to maneuver quickly. Similarly, Allura facilitates travel for the team: she provides wormholes so they can move around the universe to fight / ditch Zarkon. She’s a mobile, versatile fighter.

The staff is a weapon that’s close range. It has you get right up in your opponent’s face. So, like the sword, it requires that its user be confident and able to respond to attacks quickly. It’s a reaction-based weapon.

However, while it’s close range, the staff also allows the user to keep its opponent at a certain distance if they choose. This quality of the staff reflects Allura’s tendency to “strategize on the fly.” She’s close to her opponent like Keith, but can keep them at a farther distance than he can, like Lance. So she can, if she wants to, step back and get a broader look at the situation. As a result, Allura can rely on both instinct and observation.

It’s also an avoidant weapon, whose main strength lies in parrying the opponent-- it’s built for weathering blows and getting in strategic counterblows. As previously mentioned, this is the strategy of Team Voltron in the war: they attack Zarkon where they can, but otherwise avoid and regroup. It’s a strategy of wearing the opponent down.

The staff’s a difficult weapon to kill with. It doesn’t have a blade like the sword or bullet like the gun. It’s a weapon whose main purpose is to protect, not maim. This is reflected in Allura’s tendency to prefer diplomacy to violence.

Staffs also bring to mind balance. Allura is balancing a lot between helping train the new paladins, running the castleship, and organizing resistance against Zarkon. She’s a character that has to juggle several responsibilities, and she does so expertly.

Some more fun things about the staff (@quillowl thanks for the info!!) is that it can symbolize either a cane or a scepter. The scepter has close ties with responsibility and royalty. As the Commander of the Castle of Lions, Allura is charged with... basically running this whole Voltron show. And, she’s a princess, so, royalty.

As for the cane, it apparently has ties with the traits of wisdom and age. Allura is quite literally 10000 years old, so there’s the age part. And she’s a very wise leader (though she sometimes jumps the gun). The cane also denotes support.

Alright, this is already getting really long so we’re gonna jump to the good part. What does this have to do with the lions?

Allura states here that the quintessence of the lion matches that of their pilot. I’m basically 99% sure that there’s going to be a lion swap in season 3, what with Shiro out of the picture (for a while at least??), and the three lions that are most likely up for grabs are Black, Red, and Blue. The three people that will most likely fill one of those positions are Allura, Keith, and Lance (though for Allura to do so they’ll have to find a way for Coran to pilot the castle without her).

The Black Lion is the decisive head of Voltron, and requires a born leader who is in control at all times. Its related element is Air.

The Red Lion is the most temperamental of the lions and requires a pilot that relies more on instinct than skill alone. Its related element is Fire.

The Blue Lion’s traits are not stated outright on the show, but the Voltron website describes it as the friendliest of the lions, the most accepting of new pilots, and one of the most confident. Its related element is Water.

So who’s going where?

Well, each of these characters has the decisiveness required of the Black Lion, but personally, I think that Keith fits the Red Lion’s traits a bit too well to be moved from it. Keith fights with his instincts more than his head, which serves him well in battle. He’s agile, like his lion, and quick to charge into a fight (even when it might not be wise to do so). Plus, his relationship to the motif of brotherhood makes it hard for me to believe that he and Red will be easily separated. I think that Keith’s sense of duty to Shiro will make him try to pilot the Black Lion for at least a while, but his deep bond with Red will probably prevent him from keeping the role. However, he would be a good fit if the job if they did keep him in the Black Lion. The sword is a weapon of leadership-- Keith would just have to learn how to hone it.

As for Allura, if she is put in a lion, she has the friendliness of the Blue Lion, seen in her tendency to use diplomacy where she can. Her adaptability is consistent with that of the Blue Lion’s element of water– she “goes with the flow.” Plus, the staff is a weapon that is more difficult to hurt others with, and water is the element of healing. The Blue Lion is also a very well-balanced lion stat wise, reflecting Allura’s preference towards weapons that are balanced. And Allura has the steadiness and strength that a leg of Voltron would need to support the team, just as Hunk does.

On the flip side, that firmness and strength would also serve her as the Head of Voltron. Her adaptability makes her the flexible leader she already is, and the Black Lion is also a very well balanced weapon. Her ability to juggle so many things reflects a leader’s ability to balance and keep track of their team. Plus, the interpretation of the staff as a scepter calls to mind leadership, dignity, and responsibility-- all of which the head of Voltron should have. The staff is also, again, a weapon of lightfootedness, which is a definite argument that Allura’s native element could be Air, aka the Black Lion’s element.

As for putting Allura in the Red Lion, the agility and mobility her weapon provides would suit Red well. However, Red is a temperamental lion, and while Allura is passionate and fiery in personality, the staff errs more on the side of defense than on attack. Red would appreciate Allura’s willingness to step forward and attack, but might become frustrated with her tendency to keep distance from the opponent and strategize in the meantime.

And that leaves Lance, who’s a little weird. He’s been in the Blue Lion this whole time, but his weapon doesn’t really seem to match Blue’s flexibility as far as I can tell (the gun is too… constricted, you feel me??) or friendliness (guns require distance from others!!). It also doesn’t really match the impulsivity and instinct of the Red Lion, either. It’s very likely that Lance will, at first, be moved to the Red Lion, but I can’t see him fitting the role well. His weapon doesn’t have the agility and mobility of the Red Lion. And, as we’ve said, the gun isn’t a weapon that really works instinctively– when Lance takes that shot in season 2, there’s thought put into it. Impulse + guns (according to the above interpretation) = not great. His tendency to distance himself from problems and think things through even a little would probably piss Red tf off.

However, his decisiveness and patience could be a good fit for the Black Lion. Shiro has told Keith, “patience yields focus” and the weapon of the gun requires both patience to aim and focus to fire. Plus, Lance’s observational skills are befitting of a leader: he’s familiar with the strengths of the team and is quick to tell when something is wrong. The fact that his weapon requires distance shows a tendency like Allura’s to step back and look at a situation to diffuse it, also what a leader would do. He’d have to work on staying on task though lol.

Anyway yikes this got long but my point is that the weapons of the paladins might have been telling us more than we thought!! I’m not completely certain these three are gonna swap for sure or anything, or if Allura is going to get a lion in the first place given the fact that the castle needs her, but I think that if they were to do it, Black Paladin Lance, Red Paladin Keith, and Blue Paladin Allura would make the most sense based on this particular analysis (though keep in mind that I’m biased because I love Lance haha).

But hey the show writers could be interpreting their characters another way, in which case I just wasted like 2 hours I probably should have spent studying but oh well lmao

#voltron #voltron meta #keith #lance #allura #black paladin lance #blue paladin allura #why can i never write short metas #if you read this whole thing... i'm sorry........

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