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tbnrpotato · 1 month

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Our Own Choices

Chapter 2

Clone forces rally. As the war escalates in the Outer Rim, the Jedi Knights are spread thinly across the galaxy. Many new clones are rushed into service to support their Jedi generals. Unfortunately, because of the relentless demands of battle, many young clones must join the struggle before their intensive training has been completed. These clones, manning a vital network of tracking stations, are all that stand between the Republic and invasion.

I gotta admit, training isn't fun. Rex says it's hard at first, but I'll get used to it. Rex and some other troopers from the 501st train me, and physical training is a literal nightmare. When I wake up the next day my limbs feel like they're gonna fall off. To be honest, it would be better if they did.

I haven't seen Kix after that first time we met, and I haven't interacted with any of the other clones either.

"We want as few clones as possible to know that you were a deserter," Rex says.

"What's a deserter?" I ask him.

"Someone who left the army without permission. People like you."

"But I'm back now, right?"

"Still, we should be cautious."

Most of the time Rex isn't around for my training, he's planning battle strategies with the Jedi Generals and out in the field.

There's one time Rex comes back from the Battle of Christophsis and he tells me General Skywalker has a new padawan.

"She really thought since she was a commander she outranked me." Rex and I sit on a bench at the side while I'm taking a break from my training.

"I'm guessing she doesn't, because-"

"In my book, experience outranks everything."

"In your book, experience outranks everything."

Rex and I say it at the same time. Rex chuckles and pats my head. "I see you've at least learned something from me."

"How could I forget that one line you say at least once a week?"

"You got a point kid."

"If experience outranks everything, then why won't you let me get out in the field to get experience?" I ask, probably for the 4th time that week.

Rex's expression hardens. "We had this conversation before, kid. It's too dangerous out there for you for now, you gotta focus on your training first, and when I say you're ready to get out there, you can join me and the boys in the 501st. Got it?"

I roll my eyes, sighing. "Fine."

Rex hands me a few credits. "Go get yourself some new clothes when we land on Coruscant tonight, okay? Your old ones are getting a bit tight." And then he pats me on the back and walks off.

I put the credits in my pocket and get back to training.

I'm still better using a knife than a blaster, but I'm pretty decent with a sniper as well, my long-distance aim with a pistol is shitty, but in close range I can get a good headshot in.

Rex let me keep my knife, and he even got me a larger one which looks a lot more like a sword, the orange highlights on it match the ones on my old knife.

Recently, Rex and Cody have been checking the Republic outposts for inspection, and I haven't seen Rex in weeks.

When Rex finally arrives back on Coruscant, I'm already standing at the hangar waiting for him, crossing my arms.

"What took you so long?" I ask.

"I told you that it was gonna be a few weeks," Rex sighs. "Nice hoodie you got there, by the way."

"Thanks. And what did you say about teaching me how to use those deflector pucks for trick shots before you left?"

"I said that was after you mastered shooting a pistol."

"But I already have! I can get a headshot from like 3 meters away." I protest.

"3 meters isn't far. You'll be shot down by clankers before you could even get that close."

"Aw cmon, captain, at least give me a demonstration," I smirk. I know he hates it when I call him "captain".

"No time for that. Commander Cody and I are going to the Rishi outpost in a few minutes, I was just checking in on you."

"Oh, how kind of you," I reply, before walking away.

Once I see Rex turn his gaze away from me, I run behind a box near the ship, and wait for Rex and Cody to get into their ship. As the door of the ship starts to close behind them, I slip in at the last second quietly and hide in the darkness, hoping that no one heard me.

As the ship lands on Rishi, the lights at the back of the ship, where I am, turn on. I draw a quick breath, there's nowhere to hide, and Rex and Cody are coming. So I stand up and smile awkwardly.

"Hi guys."

"Kid, what are you doing here, I told you to stay on Coruscant and train," Rex sounds annoyed.

"Who's the kid?" Cody asks.

"Hey commander, name's Aris, I'm basically like the captain's secret trainee," I say, casting a quick glance at Rex, who puts a hand to his forehead and groans.

"I never thought Rex would personally train a kid like you," Cody says. "Where'd he find you?"

"We-we can explain that later, let's just get this inspection over with first," Rex says hastily.

"Just don't get in the way, alright kid?" Rex asks, not waiting for a reply and walking out of the ship with Cody. I follow behind them.

They're busy complaining about having no deck officers on duty here at the outpost, and that the clones here are sloppy. I don't think they are. Something feels off. I can see faint lights coming from behind the boxes, and I don't really think that's normal. I quicken my pace and move closer to Rex.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Cody says as the door to the outpost opens and a clone walks out.

"Welcome to Rishi, commander. As you can see, the outpost is operating at peak efficiency. Thank you for visiting, and have a safe trip back," the clone says, with some weird-ass hand movements. Something's definitely off, and both Rex and Cody glance at each other.

"We need to inspect the base just the same," Cody says.

"Uh, there is no need," the clone says. "Everything is fine and fully operational."

I pull at Rex's arm. Rex nods back at me.

"Take us to the sergeant in command," Rex says.

"Roger roger."

Rex and Cody look at each other, and I'm slightly confused. Suddenly, I see a flare rising up behind us.

It's a droid attack flare, I was just taught that a few days ago.

"A droid attack flare," Cody and I say at the same time. Rex shoots that clone in the head, and he falls to the ground.

"Woah, Rex, what the heck are you doing?" Cody sounds alarmed.

I don't say anything as Rex goes to inspect the body.

"Relax," Rex says as he takes the helmet of the clone, revealing a lifeless commando droid under the helmet. "Looks like one of those new commando droids."

"That flare must have come from the survivors," Cody says.

Suddenly, blaster shots come from all directions and Rex and Cody start firing.

"Get behind me kid," Rex says as he dodges a blaster bolt. I don't protest, staying as close to Rex as I can. Just the sound of blaster bolts whizzing over my head is enough to make my blood run cold. It's not the same as in training. If I get shot here, I will most likely die.

Some of the commando droids are using the boxes to shoot from the high ground. Cody manages to get a few shots on one of them, but they just get back up again.

"Those clankers have tough armor," Cody exclaims.

I run as fast as I can behind a box to take cover, covering my ears and closing my eyes tightly, curling up into a ball. I can almost feel the shot on my shoulder again. My breathing quickens. Rex and Cody go to take cover where I am.

"We're cut off," Cody says, he and Rex keep firing at the droids. His voice sounds muffled in my head.

"Get me outta here...get me outta here..." I whisper to myself, pressing my knees to my forehead.

And then I hear the sound of grenades landing near our area and Rex grabs my arm, shoots a grappling hook to the platform and lowers us down to the ground. Cody's next to us as I hear an explosion.

When my feet touch the ground, I lean against a rock to stabilize myself, my legs are shaking, my shoulders are tensed, I just stare straight ahead, breathing heavily.

"Kid, are you okay?" Rex puts a hand on my shoulder. "Are you hurt or anything?"

I look down at the ground, avoiding eye contact.

"Aris? Look at me. Are you okay?"

I look up at Rex. "I shouldn't have come."

"Yea, you shouldn't have. But you're here now, and you're still alive, so I'd count that as a win," Rex smirks.

I nod, trying to slow my breathing down, my shoulders relaxing slightly.

"This is just like training, okay? Don't worry about it."

Rex turns to Cody. "Well this sure complicates things, Commander. No worse than that time on Tibrin."

"We had jedi with us on Tibrin," Cody says as we stare at the flaming wreckage of the ship. "They helped."

"What...happened on Tibrin?" I speak up in a small voice.

"Not now kid," Cody snaps, and I go quiet again.

3 clones walk towards us through the smoke of the wreckage, and Rex and Cody raise their blasters at them. "Hands above you heads. Take your sun bonnets off."

I think he means helmets. But seriously? Sun bonnets? You couldn't come up with something better?

My hand reaches for the pistol at my belt as I stand behind Rex and Cody, wondering if I should follow them and point my gun at the clones.

"Uh, sir?" One of the clones sounds confused.

"Take them off. Now!"

The clones raise their hands in surrender, take their helmets off, and they're not droids.

Suddenly, an really big eel-like thing crashes through the rocks at our side and roars at us. I stand there frozen while Rex shoots the thing and kills it in one shot.

Rex takes off his helmet and goes to check whether the eel is dead.

"Nice shot," one of the clones says.

I back away from the eel's body but behind me is darkness and I don't wanna get ambushed by any more droids, so I just stay close.

"The name's Rex," Rex says as he checks the eel's body. "But you'll call me "Captain" or "sir"."

"Sir, yes sir!"

I really don't wanna talk to Rex when he's like this. I have a slight fear or superior authoritative figures.

"I'm commander Cody, your new boss," Cody says as he takes off his helmet.

I smile awkwardly and wave at the 3 clones. "Hi..."

They ignore me.

"My designation is trooper 27-5555, sir," one of the clones says.

"We call him Fives. I'm Hevy. This is Echo." Hevy points to the last dude.

"Where's your sergeant?" Cody asks.

"Dead, sir. We're all that's left," Echo says.

"Looks like we got a batch of shinies, commander," Rex says as he walks up to the clones.

"Shinies, sir?"

"That's right. Your armour, it's shiny and new, just like you," Rex says.

At least they have armour.

"Sir, me and my batchers are trained and ready. We'll take back our post, shiny or not."

"There's hope for you yet, rookie," Rex says.

"Hey kid. You're not supposed to be here. It's dangerous."

I look up, Hevy's talking to me.

"I know, I was following the captain along without his permission, cause I thought I could get some experience here, but..." I look down, my voice is soft.

"It's scarier than you thought it would be?" Echo asks.

I nod. "I wanna go back."

"Well, you can't get everything you want, kid. And if you're looking for some experience, you're sure gonna get a lot of it here," Hevy says. "What's your name?"

"Aris."

"Like the leader of the 504th Legion?" Fives asks.

"Rex named me after her."

"You look like a clone. Are you?" Echo asks.

"Mhm. Female clone. Wasn't meant to exist, but here I am. Made to be physically weaker than the others." I chuckle, looking down. "But I'm definitely not weaker. I'm equal to them."

"Alright boys, keep quiet and follow me," Rex says, before starting to climb up a ledge.

The others all follow, and I'm at the back.

Okay. You can do this. Just like training.

I take a deep breath and start climbing.

Don't look down, don't look down, there's no harness, just don't look down and don't fall or you're gonna become a piece of roti prata and die-

I cling onto the rock that I'm climbing on tightly, and I make the mistake of looking down. My whole body tenses up, and I draw a few quick breaths before looking back up again. I can feel the sweat running down my face. My arms are shaking. All I can hear is my heartbeat now.

After what seems like forever, we make it up to the top of the ledge, and Hevy helps me up. My breaths are shaky as I wipe the sweat off my face.

"Look sharp, rookies," Rex says. "As long as those tweezers occupy this post, our home planet of Kamino is at risk."

I look up. Kamino? 99's still there, isn't he?

"But there's so many of them," Hevy says.

"Doesn't matter, kid. We have to retake this base, so we will retake this base."

"How do you propose we get through those blast doors, Rex, old boy?" Cody asks.

"I have a few ideas."

I gently tug at Rex's arm.

"What is it, kid?" Rex asks, turning to face me.

"Can I...sit this one out, sir?"

"Look kid. We need all troopers for this. Including you."

"I don't wanna go. I don't wanna die. I'm scared."

Rex puts both hands on my shoulders. "You're not gonna die kid. You'll be fine. What happened to getting experience, hm?" He playfully punches my shoulder. "You'll be okay. I promise. Just remember your training, okay?"

I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. It's not working, but I don't show it, and I nod.

We reach the front blast doors of the outpost and Cody and the others hide at the sides, so I follow them, pistol in one hand and my vibrosword in the other.

Rex walks up to the front door.

"Unit 2-6, is that you?" the commando droids in the outpost ask.

"Roger roger," Rex says.

"You sound strange. Is something wrong with your vocabulator?"

"Roger roger."

"Take off your helmet. Let me see your faceplate."

"Roger roger."

Rex ducks and uses the commando droid's head from just now and shows it to the camera.

"This is never gonna work," Cody puts a hand to his helmet.

The blast doors open and Rex holds up his pistol.

"Clones!"

"Roger, Roger."

Rex takes out the droid in the middle and the others take out the remaining 2.

"Right, let's move."

The others run into the main room and take cover at the sides, shooting at the droids. I stay behind and take cover from the main hallway, not looking behind me. I can see blaster bolts whizzing past me, but they're not going to hit me.

I hear Fives getting shot and Cody telling them to focus. I look back and see Rex in the main room, where a commando droid is trying to melee him.

I draw my vibrosword and run into the main room as Rex dodges the swings of the droid, and I slice the droid in half from behind. The others take out the last 2 remaining droids and the room is clear.

"Thanks kid," Rex gives me a downwards nod of respect.

I sling my sword back onto my back and lean against a wall at the side while the others roast the droids that they just shot down.

"Get to the window. It looks like we have more visitors," Cody says.

We all run to the window and look outside.

"It looks like a separatist fleet."

"That's why the commandeered the outpost," Cody says. "They're mounting a full-scale invasion."

"We have to warn command," Rex says.

"Shouldn't we hide? If they're gonna mount a full-scale invasion we don't stand a chance," I speak up, and everyone stares at me. "What? I'm telling the truth."

One of the clones goes to try and transmit a signal.

"Those clankers sabotaged our transmitter, and they hard-wired the all-clear signal. It'll take time to-"

"We don't have time. Look."

A ship is descending in front of the outpost.

"Guys we really should go," I'm making my way towards the vent, ready to run.

"Well kid, you're gonna get a lot of experience from here," Echo says.

"We can't protect the outpost long against that army of clankers," Cody says.

"Then we'll destroy the outpost instead," Rex says.

"But sir, our mission is to defend this facility at all costs."

"We have to warn the Republic about the invasion. They'll take notice when the all-clear signal stops."

"That's right. When they stop receiving our beacon, they'll get the message something's wrong," Fives says.

"We'll need every thermal detonator in the inventory," Rex says.

I slowly open up the vent cover, ready to slip inside.

"It'll take more than a few detonators to destroy the outpost."

Then someone suggests an idea to blow up the outpost using liquid tibanna.

"Good. Bring the tanks here and prime the detonators," Rex orders.

Just as I'm about to slip into the vent and run away, Rex notices me.

"Hey kid, don't think about going anywhere."

I freeze, looking up at him.

"I have no interest in dying today," I reply.

"I thought you weren't weak?"

So I help the boys carry the explosives to the main room as I hear the battle droids marching towards the front gate.

When we manage to get it all to the main room, Rex and the others gather around, and I stand behind Fives, Echo and Hevy.

"Alright listen up. There's only one target of interest in this sector: Kamino. It's the closest thing we clones have to a home. Today we fight for more than the Republic. Today we fight for all our brothers back home. Understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

Rex looks at me.

I take a deep breath and steel myself for the high possibility of dying. "Sir, yes, sir."

We head into the weapons room where the others take their weapons. My hand rests on my pistol, and the other on my vibrosword. I turn to Rex, who's making his way to the main room. He nods at me.

I can feel my heart in my throat now, and it must have been pretty obvious to Cody, because he puts a hand on my shoulder and says,"We're gonna survive this kid. Trust me.

Hevy goes to the front and takes out a bunch of battle droids with that gatling gun of his, and then Cody, me and the others come in.

I shoot at the droids with my pistol and blaster bolts narrowly miss me, and everything's going so fast, I can't comprehend what's going on.

One of the clones throws a grenade at the battle droids, knocking most of them off the platform while the rest of us fall back, closing the blast doors.

They get blown up from outside and the battle droids enter, still shooting at us, and I run into the main room, with the others following behind after a few moments.

I hear Rex say that the handset wasn't linking up with the detonator, and Hevy says he'll handle it, telling us to get out of here.

We run to the vents and crawl through them, with Rex leading the way. We reach the outside in a few minutes, hiding behind a ridge.

"Hevy, hit the-" Rex looks behind, and Hevy isn't there.

"Where's Hevy?"

Echo and Fives shake their heads.

Rex talks into his comlink. "Hevy, get out of there."

"The remote isn't working," Hevy reports. "I have to detonate it manually."

I move to run back into the vents and try to make it back to the outpost, the others follow me. I'm running as fast as I can, and crawl into the vents, trying to make it back.

I hear the others trying to contact Hevy, but they're not in the vents yet. I gotta get there.

And then I hear the sound of explosions and debris falling, the vents shake, and I curl up into a ball, covering my head.

When the shaking stops, I open my eyes, and I see Rex pulling me out of the vents.

"You okay kid?" Rex asks.

I nod, staying close to him as we head back to the others.

Hevy's gone.

"We've got those tinnies on the run," either Fives or Echo says, I can't really tell.

"Thanks to Hevy."

I hear the sound of gunships descending.

"We're getting of this crater boys," Rex says.

We all get on the gunships, and I remain silent for the whole trip back to the cruiser.

Fives and Echo are getting some random award thing from General Skywalker, and Rex says he's considering adding them to the 501st. I head back to the barracks and just chill there for awhile, thinking about everything that's just happened. It all feels so fast.

About an hour later, Rex comes in.

"Hey kid, how're you doing?"

I remain silent.

Rex sits down next to me.

"Yknow if it wasn't for Hevy, we wouldn't be here right now," he says.

I nod, staring up at the ceiling. "I shouldn't have come."

"Yea, it's a lot more different than training, isn't it?"

"It's so...scary, my mind just goes blank, and I forget everything I learned during training. Being a soldier's hard."

"The first few battles are always like that, but...you'll get used to it."

"I'm not gonna be in another battle. I'll just stay on Coruscant and continue training. That's what you want, right?"

"Hm. I could let you come on some of the less dangerous battles, how about that?"

I hesitate. I can almost imagine the sickening feeling in my stomach when the outpost blew up, when I realised that Hevy was gone. I can almost feel my heart pounding in my head every time I see live fire whizzing past my head, when I narrowly miss death by an inch.

I sit up and look at Rex.

"I don't wanna go."

Rex looks at me, confused. "What?"

"I'm done with being in battles. I'm not going to fight out there in the field anymore. I'm done. I'm leaving."

Rex sighs. "Look, ad'ika-"

Fives and Echo come into the barracks.

"Hey kid, how're you doing?" Echo asks. "You were pretty good out there with your knife and your pistol."

I look up at him.

"I know what you're thinking, kid. You wanna leave after your first skirmish, and to be honest, I can't argue with that. It's a hard life, being a soldier."

I nod.

"But we're fighting for the Republic, for a cause that we believe in. Out there, we gotta be strong, we can't show weakness, and we show those clankers what we're made of, got it?"

I nod again, and Echo and Fives walk away.

Can't show weakness. They always said I was made to be weaker than the others. Gotta prove them wrong.

I turn to Rex.

"Maybe I'll take a few weeks on Coruscant to train and prepare myself, and then maybe I'll consider coming along on those less dangerous battles."

Rex smiles, and nods. "Okay then ad'ika, we've got a ship leaving for Coruscant in a few hours, and I'll see you in a few weeks."

"What does ad'ika mean?" I ask.

"You already know, kid. All clones do."

I roll my eyes. "Fine. Cya, captain."

Rex groans.

"And for the last time, DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

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incarnateirony · 2 years

Note

I know this might be painful for you to talk about, but on one of your blogposts from today you said you were doxxed, threatened, bullied because you were doing what was right. Would you be able to talk about that?

I wasn't the only one, but I was one of the ones he was hyperfixated on.

In TAW's first wave of attacks he was focused on Lua, Violue, Ashes and Exorcising Emily, most of which have all left the fandom. Emily had an amazing fighting spirit but was catching it on all ends with bronlies faking shit to get her kicked out of cons. It was reversed with apology tickets but damage done, and that's when we lost Geekiary coverage for Supernatural.

That said, the doxxing site came in 2018 after blacklisttaw took off in response regearing the conversation from the christmas PR attack. Long story short, all of us running around like decapitated chickens in the back trying to fix it already knew it was bs, and misha stans well intended were fighting with these bait socks in the TMZ tags and it was kicking water uphill to fucking untag 300 arguments they just kept tagging back into.

blacklisttaw took off, and the loudest people speaking up about his worse transgressions fell onto a sort of hitlist of his that his fans went after. We could never prove who exactly made the website since the domain owner was protected, but it was all about poor TAW being attacked by evil witches.

Many of our lives were directly impacted. For all the hysterical noises about a blackmail joke, TAW did in fact even blackmail one girl into a retraction by calling her college and basically ransoming her future. That's how bad it got. I'm talking people getting shredded packages, knives in their doors, moving out of state just because they don't know when some crazy shitbird is going to drive by. Ironically I found out I relocated about half an hour from Lua without intending to, which is funny, because we hate each other but even we were on the same team. Hell this shit went so far we got the whole furry fandom on board and got TAW banned from their cons too when he tried to move there.

Either way, basically, any of us, any of us that spoke up about him ended upon the shitlist. He had his old wave folks he was hyper fixated on, which coincidentally is mostly who Mark Pellegrino went broke seeking legal consult for ways to sue. They also dealt with similar shit.

But yeah, I mean it is what it is. It's what it says on the tin. But you know I'm a loudmouth by nature that can't be backed down and I already knew how to handle narcissists like Travis, I knew how to push his buttons and make him spiral and just finished up the job with him from there, even if he pulled "i'ma big army sniper lolol i know where u live" try me motherfucker. I posted my gun and he cried and put it on my doxxing page that I was dangerous. Magnificent.

The doxxing bothers more people obviously, and it's terrible for everyone involved, but long before I ever pulled into SPN fandom I'd taken so many types of trauma that I'm kind of like throwing a rock at an angel. it's just gonna bounce i'm standing there, and TAW didn't know what to do when I didn't fear him but instead ended up with the reigns on his whole situation, soooooo I got a few years of ongoing joyride with him, and the resulting overlap and reports and escalation you could say I passed up the line.

Actually it was funny, he fought for like a year to doxx me actually and he kept screaming WHO ARE YOU and spun out real bad when i posted this

youtube

(@destielcrack lightly updated)

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bobgoesw00t · 1 year

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Top 10 Video Games of All Time: bobgoesw00t Edition (Part 04)

I’M BACK EVERYONE WITH PART FOUR OF THIS SERIES!!!!!!! Gonna get right down to things and let you all know my Number 07 Video Game of All Time goes to:

Ghost of Tsushima or Assassin’s Creed without actually being Assassin’s Creed.

When I first heard about this game back when it was announced, I was excited and intrigued, and knowing that it was from Sucker Punch, the same studio that did the inFamous games (my favorite Superhero games that doesn’t involve a Marvel or DC character), I knew I was gonna be in for a treat. Then we went for what felt like an eternity before we FINALLY got some gameplay footage at E3 one year and HOLY FUCKING HELL WAS IT WORTH THE WAIT!!! From that point on, my excitement for this game only escalated with each preview I watched/read and I was super excited to play it because I knew that if this game did well, it had the potential to influence another franchise I love…but that’s for later.

The game finally came out, I got it for my birthday and what else can I say other than, YOU NEED TO PLAY THIS GAME!!!!!!! Not only is the story PERFECTION, the cast of characters are well written, you TOTALLY side with Jin when he makes the various decisions he does across the game, the soundtrack is phenomenal, game play is fine tuned to a T and when it comes to stealth, you can’t NOT make comparisons to Assassin’s Creed and it’s obvious that the team at Sucker Punch must have fans of the franchise and used it as an inspiration for how they approached the way of the “Ghost” that Jin goes down.

They also do a perfect job pacing when you get new abilities for Jin to use and one never feels overpowered when you put it next to a different one. The Half Bow is awesome for taking out Mongols that might spot you before you commit to going for an Assassination and the Longbow works perfectly as a Sniper Bow. As for the one on one duels that are scattered across the game, GOOD GOD those are intense and it’s SUPER satisfying when you finally finish your opponent, which is made even better with Jin cleaning his Katana and/or slowly sheathing the weapon in a dramatic fashion.

Lastly, I want to talk about the one thing Ghost of Tsushima has that most other games that came out around and after don’t have. VISUALS THAT ARE ABSOLUTELY WITHOUT OUT A DOUBT, THE MOST FUCKING GORGEOUS YOU’LL EVER SEEN IN A VIDEO GAME!!!!! HOLY HELL, THE COLORS AND PARTICLE EFFECTS IN THIS GAME ARE FUCKING INSANE AND THANK GOD THEY INCLUDED A PHOTO MODE!!!!! I can’t count the number of times when I’ve been running around, only to stop and take a screenshot due to how FUCKING GORGEOUS THE GAME IS!!!!!!! I’ve already posted PLENTY of screenshots here on tumblr so I HIGHLY encourage you to go look at them.

Before I give the score, I have to address the elephant in the room…that being how Ghost of Tsushima is literally Assassin’s Creed without ACTUALLY BEING ASSASSIN’S CREED. As I already mentioned, one of the reasons I was super excited for this game was due to the influence it might have on a certain franchise going forward…that franchise being Assassin’s Creed. Back in 2011, Ubisoft sent out a survey asking fans which location and time setting they would like to see in future games, with the top results being, WW II, Feudal Japan and Ancient Egypt. The Creative Director of AC3 said those were the worst settings the franchise could go…only for AC Origins to eventually come out and prove that statement was a load of bullshit and it ended up being one of the best locations in the series. The one location on the list that A LOT of fans knew could work was Feudal Japan (myself included) and we’ve had to wait forever…and ever…and ever…and ever for some hint if the next game would go there… So when Ghost of Tsushima came out and both sold well AND got near perfect reviews, I knew this would show Ubisoft that an Assassin’s Creed Game set in Japan could ACTUALLY WORK. And then we went back to waiting…and waiting…and waiting…and waiting…until our patience has FINALLY PAYED OFF when back in September, Ubisoft announced ASSASSIN’S CREED: CODENAMED RED!!!!!

I can’t help but think that the decision to finally make an entry with this setting was partially influenced by Ghost of Tsushima. We’ll have to wait a while to see if that’s the case cause the game won’t be coming out until AT LEAST 2024, as Assassin’s Creed Mirage is the title Ubisoft is releasing next year.

As for Ghost of Tsushima, regardless of it was indeed influenced by Assassin’s Creed and it will in turn, influence Codename Red, it’s still an awesome game with visuals that are still the most FUCKING GORGEOUS I’VE EVEN SEEN. When I take all the various aspects the game does perfectly, I can’t help but give Ghost of Tsushima Five Ghost Stance beheadings out of Five.

Honorable Mentions today are:

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey: this game took the best parts of Origins, enhanced what needed to be, and expanded the world to insane proportions. The only thing that keeps it from being perfect is THE INSANE AMOUNT OF GRINDING THAT NEEDS TO BE DONE TO REACH LEVEL 99!!!!! That and the stupidly high amount of money and materials that are needed to fully upgrade the ship and your equipment.

Bayonetta 2: It took everything people loved about the first game and bumped it up to eleven, and got rid of the more annoying aspects when it came to combat. Not to mention Moon River Infinite Climax Mix is THE PERFECT SONG TO OPEN THE GAME UP!!!!!!

#ghost of tsushima #assassin’s creed #assassin's creed odyssey #bayonetta 2 #assassin's creed codename red #feudal japan #video game #video games #top 10 video games of all time #my picks #assassin's creed mirage #x play #top ten video games of all time

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zoeykallus · 2 years

Text

The Clone And The Gray Part 7 - The Abyss Inside Us

Tech x fem.Reader ff Short Cosshair x reader part included (kinda)

Warnings: 18+

Cursing/ Angst/ Kissing And Getting Handsy With Dubios Consent/ Creepy Pining Crosshair/ Tears/ Slight Violence/ Kinda Drama/Kinda Dark

Also: Tiny bits of fluff/ Some stupid jokes/ Some feels, possibly

I'm so overtired I don't know what I'm doing. But whatever this is, it just wanted out of my system.

Oooff, well this escalated quickly. Don't know yet where I'm going with this, but I'm sorry for everyone involved. Still looking at Crosshair... don't kill me. Don't worry the road just got a little rocky, we'll fix that soon... somehow.

...okay.

What happened before:

Please Stay

Keeping A Secret

The Dark Side

Deep Inside

Perception

No Harm done?

Part 7 – The Abyss Inside Us

You had to endure two days on the icy moon, then your distress signal was picked up by a merchant ship.

Tech had been working with Echo on the Marauder for three days and there was still no end in sight. Because Tech was so busy, he had asked Corsshair to accompany you home after your late shifts. You didn't think it was necessary, but neither Tech nor Crosshair gave you a choice. The Sniper was there on time after each shift to pick you up at the bar and take you home. He was always very quiet and you didn't know what to say except to thank him each time, whereupon he would roll his eyes and say, "Stop thanking me.

One evening, however, you felt a little braver than usual.

"Cross?"

He allowed you to call him that, even though no one else did.

"Yes?"

"Is something wrong? Sometimes you act weird towards me, like you're mad at me or something.... then the next moment you're unusually nice again.... and then mean again"

Crosshair cleared his throat awkwardly.

"You know I'm not good with people".

You shrugged your shoulders in displeasure at the answer.

"Yeah, I know. But still, you switch back and forth so quickly sometimes between nice, sometimes even caring, and then mean. Please don't take this the wrong way, but it's confusing." Crosshair believed if you had even the slightest idea what for and how confused he was about it himself, you would probably panic. But he did not speak this thought aloud.

"I like you. It's rather rare and I don't handle it very well," he defused the truth as much as possible.

You were standing at your front door when you turned to face him. You liked Crosshair too, somehow, he had his moments where you could enjoy his presence.

"Do you want to maybe talk about this a little more?" you asked, but were sure you already knew the answer.

"No."

Just what you expected.

You sighed, "Okay. Well then, I'll see you tomorrow"

He nodded, turned and walked away. You looked after him, for the first time since he always brought you home at night. You were surprised to see him looking over his shoulders at you. When he saw you looking after him, he stopped abruptly.

"Why are you watching me leave?" he asked grumpily.

Frowning, you shot back, "Why are you turning around?"

He grumbled something you couldn't understand and finally walked on without turning around again.

The next day was your day off, but Tech as sorry as he was about it, was still burried in working on the ship. You kissed him longingly, you missed being around hin so much, missed his touch, your evenings and nights together. He promised as soon as the ship was done, he would ask hunter to give him at least a week off time, to spend only with you.

"I'll take your word for it", you said with a sigh and left the Marauder again.

On your way out, you saw Crosshair sitting on the ramp, holding something in his hands and sniffing it. When he heard your footsteps, he quickly stuffed the piece of cloth under the breastplate of his armor to hide it.

Astonished, you came closer and he raised his head rudimentarily.

"Hey," he said simply.

"Hey. Bored?"

Crosshair shrugged.

"Would you mind giving me some more lessons?"

The sniper listened up, glanced at you.

"Now?"

"If you have time and feel like it"

You didn't want to get on his nerves or steal his precious time, but the way he was sitting there, it didn't seem like he was very busy.

Crosshair's mind raced-should he really spend any more time with you? He remembered all too painfully the crash landing on the ice moon and how he lost his self-control.

"Is Tech okay with that?" he heard himself ask.

"Yes, as before," you said in wonder at his reticence.

The sniper nodded.

"All right, we can leave right away if you want," he finally relented.

Cautiously you asked him, "Are you sure you even want to do this?"

More than anything cyar'ika....

"Sure. Shall we go?"

Crosshair and you were back in that patch of woods on the mountains to the west. You had already done some target practice and he had you disassemble and reassemble the gun again to see if you had remembered everything. For a moment you had been unsure of one part, he had noticed it, but given you time and nodded with approval when you figured out on your own what to do with it.

The sniper also showed you a few things about blasters and how to use them safely. You were cleaning one of the blasters you had with you the way he had shown you when you asked him a question out of curiosity.

"Can I ask you something personal?"

Crosshair looked up from the weapon he was preparing for you and cocked an eyebrow at you.

"You can try," he murmured.

"I've noticed you haven't been out chasing women for a very long time."

Cosshair listened up, but turned his attention back to the blaster in front of him without looking at you.

"So what?"

Shrugging your shoulders, you said, "I was just wondering why."

"Why do you care?" he grumbled uneasily.

You yourself didn't know exactly why you cared, you just noticed it and it was uncharacteristic of Crosshair.

"I don't know, I was just wondering if everything was alright."

He snorted.

"So you're worried about me?"

"Yeah, kind of. Am I not allowed to be?" you asked in a soft indulgent tone.

"You better concentrate on what you're doing, you've been trying to put the barrel of the blaster on backwards the whole time" He grumbled, taking the pieces from your hand and putting them together properly.

"Sorry," you mumbled meekly.

"Are you?" you asked softly.

"Am I what?" he returned gruffly.

"All right."

Crosshair took a deep breath and let it escape with a sigh.

"Sure, I'm fine"

"You're an incredibly bad liar," you said dryly.

He finally looked up, a piercing sharpness in his eyes that made you nervous. Then he smiled.

"Let's make a deal. We'll talk about something personal that concerns you, if you can be as open about it as you expect me to be, then you'll get your answers. Agreed?"

With a surprised blink you looked at him. He was up to something, but you were too curious to be bothered.

"Um...okay, agreed."

He smiled, it looked cunning and pleased.

"So, Tech talks about some things with me, mainly because he has no one else and he thinks I have more experience" Crosshair opened.

"Oh, I guess I see where this is going," you muttered laconically.

"You've already agreed, so if you want to hear from me, you'll have to accommodate me a bit. Because I can be nosy too"

Crosshair clearly enjoyed having the upper hand in this conversation.

You laughed and said, "Okay, I hope I don't regret this later but, please continue."

"Well he mentioned one thing that you like in bed but he feels insecure about. Do you know where I'm going with this?"

You could feel your face getting hot.

"I think so," you said softly, avoiding his gaze.

"He wanted some tips from me about dominance in bed. I was wondering if he had tried them yet"

Fuuuuck, went through your head.

Sure, Tech needed someone to talk to like everyone else, but did it have to be Crosshair of all people???

Your face got even hotter and you realized that you were blushing and there was no point in hiding it.

"You look pretty when you blush," he chuckeld mockingly.

You remembered that he had said that to you before and he had been the trigger then too.

"Son of a bitch," it slipped out of your mouth.

Crosshair laughed, amused at how flustered you were.

"Did he?" he finally asked adamantly. "How the hell am I supposed to know? I don't even know what you advised him to do."

"Good point" the sniper admitted "Well, for one thing I advised the hand on the neck, firm but not rough grip"

You swallowed.

"Yeah, he already did that"

Crosshair smirked.

"Did you like it?"

You grimaced.

"Do I have to answer that? Isn't that going a little too far?"

He shrugged his shoulders and replied lightly, "Yes and yes"

Clearing your throat you said: "Yes"

"Yes what?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Yes I liked it"

Crosshair laughed.

"There are some other things I advised him to do, but I consider your part of the deal fulfilled. I don't want to torture you any longer.... no wait, I do."

With a groan you threw your head back.

He chuckled.

"So we've been talking about personal issues haven't we? So you're really into this domination thing?"

You just gave him a quick shy look, bit your lower lip and then said staring at the blaster in your hand, "Yeah, I am".

Crosshair felt a tingle under his skin.

"When you're grabbed a little harder? Not painful, but close to the edge? Just with just the right amount of force so you can feel the strength behind it?"

"Hmm," you hummed in agreement. "You want him in control, doing you just right. Preferably in dominant positions, from behind on your knees, or when you're on your stomach? Or when you're lying underneath him, your legs tucked against his chest, your feet on his shoulders so he practically folds you into a helpless position when he takes you?"

You felt your panties dampen and your clit pulsate. Startled, you pressed your thighs together and unconsciously clung to the blaster with your fingers. The way he used his tone wtih his words was manipulative, he had aimed for you to get heated.

You hoped he hadn't noticed your reaction, but when you looked up cautiously, you knew he had.

A smug smile was on his face.

The way he talked about it he really had experience with it and a little naughty part of you found that hot.

"That's enough," you said somberly.

You were about to get up and gather your things when he grabbed your wrist.

"Wait! Please. Sit back down, I was just teasing you a bit. I'll stop now okay? It's your turn, you can ask me anything you want and I have to answer you, as compensation. Agreed?"

Slowly and hesitantly you sat down again.

"Who is she?"

Crosshair raised his brows.

" Excuse me?"

"I have a hunch there's a special woman. That's why you're so different, isn't it? That's why you don't go chasing women anymore."

When you looked him in the face you knew you had hit the mark and a tiny little part of you felt a tiny little twinge of jealousy that you couldn't quite comprehend yourself.

Emphatically you looked him in the eye: "You promised".

He sighed.

"Yes there is someone" "I knew it," you said triumphantly, feeling much more confident again.

He smiled.

"So, was that what you wanted to know?"

"You're not getting away from me that easily."

Crosshair chuckled, put a toothpick in his mouth and waited.

"What's she like? Describe her to me"

The sniper scratched the back of his head.

"Well, she's hot, but not the usual hot. She's the kind of beauty you see and want to keep forever"

He sighed wistfully.

"She's better than me. She has a good heart, she has a sense of humor, she's vulnerable, but she knows how to fight back"

You listened to him with interest. This woman sounded like she was really special. But then why did he seem so unhappy?

Then it dawned on you.

"She doesn't return your feelings, does she? That's why you're in such a queer mood."

He chewed the end of the toothpick silently for a moment. When he finally answered you, he sounded cloudy.

"She loves someone else. She doesn't know I've had a crush on her for a while."

"Fuck. I'm sorry about that."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Shit happens."

"If it's any consolation, I think she's missing out on something"

Crosshair smiled.

"That actually is some consolation"

When Crosshair and you landed the shuttle and walked to the Marauder, you remembered something else.

"That piece of clothing you were sniffing, was that hers?"

Crosshair looked at you startled, his expression downright wild.

"You saw that?"

"Well, I saw you sniffing a piece of cloth, I couldn't tell what it was offhand, but now that I know more, I assumed it was a garment from the woman of your dreams," you teased him.

He sighed and it sounded strangely relieved.

"Um, yes that was indeed a garment of hers".

You laughed and playfully punched him on the shoulder.

"Don't tell me you stole it from her?"

"Unknowingly borrowed it?" he tried.

You grinned.

"You rascal!"

He grinned, but behind his eyes was a pain you could see but misinterpreted.

"Don't take it so hard. Compared to a Bad Batcher, the other guy can only be a loser. She's bound to get bored soon and that's when you come in," you said with conviction.

Crosshair cleared his throat, "Um, yeah, I guess so."

You gave him a friendly slap on the arm and went ahead of him, not seeing the agonized look he gave you.

He stayed behind at the shuttle, sat on a wall ledge nearby, took a few minutes to himself.

When you got into the Marauder, Tech was standing between the bunks, Echo was with him. Both looked strangely serious. There was something in the air. You didn't know that Crosshair had tucked the garment he had previously hidden under his chest plate into his bunk before leaving with you. Tech, however, had seen the piece of cloth hanging out from under the pillow. Since the color was unusual for their outfit and it looked familiar to him, he had pulled out the garment.

"Hey you two! Where is everybody?"

"At Cid's," Echo answered politely.

You could sense some tension. As you watched Tech lift the garment in the air, you realized why.

"Would you mind explaining to me how your nightgown got into Crosshairs bunk?"

It was your favorite emerald green good night shirt.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. It went through your mind.

Tech sounded serious and uncharacteristically somber.

For a second you felt completely paralyzed as your brain feverishly tried to process the information in front of you.

Shit hit the fan, damage control was in order.

You had to react and react fast, improvise something plausible to take the edge off the whole situation.

"Oh," you said with a nervous laugh, "I'm really embarrassed now."

Both Tech's and Echo's eyebrows moved upward.

"Are you going to elobarate?" inquired Tech sternly.

"I thought that was your bunk when I put it in".

He lowered the arm with the garment slowly.

"What, why?"

"Well you once said you liked my smell so much. So I wore it for two nights and then I wanted to put it under your pillow. We haven't been able to spend any time together for days. I thought you would be happy about that, you know you can still smell me even when I'm not there."

His expression softened.

"Oh... that's really a wonderful idea" he admitted.

Echo laughed in relief and retreated to the cockpit, there was no argument he needed to settle.

Tech smelled your shirt and wrinkled his nose.

"It smells like Crosshair now, though. How long has it been there? He probably unknowingly slept on it and wondered why his bed smelled so good."

Your guts knotted at the sight of how innocently Tech bought the lie and unwittingly spun it on.

"Two days," you heard yourself say. Tech came closer, pulling you toward him by the hips.

"Can't you give me the one you're wearing right now, you could change it quickly".

"And put on the one that smells like Crosshair?" you asked, bewildered.

"It's only for a short time. You can change at home," he said hopefully.

He looked at you with an expression that could soften stones.

"Fine!"

Tech chuckled satisfied.

You looked around and hastily changed shirts and gave him the red wine colored one you had just worn.

He smelled it and closed his eyes with pleasure.

"Perfect," he cooed.

Tech sighed, tucked the shirt under his pillow and turned back to you with a tired look.

"I'm afraid I have work to do, I can't let Echo go on alone. There's still a lot to do. It was actually one of the new parts I put in that practically fried the entire ship."

He took that to heart and felt responsible.

You gave him a gentle kiss.

"I miss you so much, hopefully it won't be sooo long".

Tech kissed you back.

"My darling I hardly sleep anymore so it will be done quickly, I've barely had six hours of sleep in the last three days."

"Damn" you cursed "I don't want you to work yourself to death!" With every movement, the smell of the shirt came to you, Crosshair's smell.

With a sigh you said, "I have to go home anyway, have to change. I'm uncomfortable smelling like our sniper."

Grumbling and with your heart pounding, partly out of anger, guilty conscience, pity and a few other things you couldn't quite wrap your head around, you left the Marauder.

Seeing Crosshair sitting on a ledge near the shuttle at the far end of the landing platform, you headed straight for him, determined and angry.

He looked up as you approached and he heard your footsteps.

"Uh oh, someone looks upset." he said in surprise.

"Well, that could be because I am."

His brows went up questioningly as he rolled his toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other.

You reached for the zipper of your leather jacket and pulled it open with a swoosh, holding it open so Crosshair could see your shirt.

"How do you like my shirt?" you asked, dripping with snark.

Crosshair froze, his eyes widening and he held his breath. Of course he recognized the shirt he had stolen from you.

"Oh."

"Yeah, Oh" you said annoyed "Tech found it in your bunk, it was probably hanging out from under your pillow because you didn't tuck it in properly".

Crosshair jumped up.

"Fuck! Did you guys have a fight? I'll talk to him, tell him the truth!"

Your hand grabbed the chest piece of his armor and pushed him back against the wall. He let it happen and sank back onto the ledge of the wall.

"You can't fix this"

"You guys didn't break up over this, did you?" he asked, startled even as he guiltily felt a glimmer of hope.

"No. I fixed it" you said impatiently.

"Oh yeah?"

You explained to him the made-up white lie you had told Tech.

"Wow, that was some quick thinking," he said, impressed.

Actually you wanted to ram your fist into his face, but you also felt sorry for him and there was something else, but you pushed that into the background.

"Yes, quite wonderful" you snarked "Do you know how that feels?! Tech believed it and I feel incredibly bad about it, although I just wanted to prevent you from going at each other's throats." With a curse, you kicked a pebble away.

"Fuck! You should have seen his face," you said by now less annoyed than miserable.

"I'm sorry," he said downheartedly.

Crosshair looked down at his boots, his heart beating heavy and hard in his chest.

With a weary sigh, you asked, "How did you get my shirt anyway?"

Gritting his teeth, he confessed, "I temporarily removed Tech's spare key to your apartment while you were at work, got the shirt from your bedroom and then returned the key, tucked it between his things, he didn't notice."

An impulse ran through you and your hand landed with a loud smack in Crosshair's face, hard enough that your hand hurt, but you didn't let it show.

His head jerked to the side as the blow hit him and he paused in the pose for a long moment. A groan came from his lips.

"I guess I deserved that," he said under his breath. "I trusted you," you said softly, feeling tears welling up.

Anger, disappointment, confusion, and a guilty conscience weighed together heavier than you could bear at the moment.

He looked up, a red mark on his face, looked into your watery eyes.

"I'm sorry, I really am" he began unusually softly "betraying your trust was never my intention."

You tried to take a breath, but then the first tears rolled down your face. A small sob escaped you and you only got angrier because you felt so weak.

You mumbled, "I'm just tired, I'm overreacting right now."

It sounded like you were trying to talk yourself through it.

Crosshair slowly stood up.

"I guess offering you a hug isn't an option?" he asked half jokingly.

You glared up at him angrily with tears streaming down your face.

"Fuck you, Crosshair," you snarled.

You immediately regretted it, but turned on your heel and ran home.

The sniper looked after you. He felt the need to follow you, he wanted to make it up to you, to do something so you wouldn't hate him. But he knew he wouldn't get through to you today.

But he would try at another time. He couldn't give you up, he couldn't let go. But for now he had to live with that strange all consuming pain that spread in his chest.

Hunter climbed the ladder to the roof where Crosshair was always to watch you or just to feel like he was near you.

Hunter had found him there a few times before, including this time.

"Crosshair," Hunter sighed, annoyed, "what are you doing here again? Didn't we talk about this?"

Crosshair grumbled.

"Didn't you hear the news? I screwed up - big time"

"What did you do?" asked Hunter tiredly.

"I made her hate me" it came brittlely over his lips after a short pause.

Hunter looked at his brother sympathetically.

"I don't think so, Y/N is not the type to hate others. What did you do exactly?"

Crosshair laughed humorlessly, then began to tell Hunter everything. How he had stolen the keycard to your apartment and stolen your shirt, how you found out and had to lie to Tech so he wouldn't get hurt. He told about how you confronted him and how it ended.

"Wow. You really screwed up. I hate to say it, but I warned you several times that something like that might happen."

The Sniper sighed, "I know, cut the "I told you so"- crap please."

They talked for a while, more or less. Crosshair did not say much. When Hunter went back to Cid's to get some sleep, the Sniper still remained on the roof.

But he didn't stay alone for long. When he heard someone on the ladder again, he grumbled, "Get out of here Hunter! Weren't you going to sleep?"

"I knew I saw you!"

Crosshair jolted into a sitting position.

"Y/N?!"

"I thought I saw movement from my window. You forgot to close the flap, you gave away your position"

Crosshair wasn't sure, if he was proud that you really learned something from him, or if the shock he felt was bigger than that.

You glared at him.

Glancing at the rifle pointed at your apartment, you asked cynically, "Are you stalking me or trying to kill me?"

"Looks pretty bad huh? I guess you're my biggest fan by now" he quipped dryly.

Under other circumstances you might have found him amusing, but not here and now.

You shook your head in disbelief. It was worse than you thought. He was really obsessed with you.

"What am I going to do with you?"

He chuckled asking dryly, "Is sex an option?"

"Ha ha, really funny you moron" you returned grumpily and kicked against one of his long legs.

"It would only be logical," he insisted with a cheeky smirk.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I can give you what Tech can't give you."

You weren't sure what he was getting at, but you'd soon find out.

"What?"

"Tech will always be the sweet, gentle guy. But I can satisfy your wild side"

You blinked in confusion. It slowly dawned on you what he was getting at and you didn't quite know how to respond.

He stood up, towering over you he came closer and you automatically backed away slowly until your back hit an obstacle, a wall you hadn't really noticed before.

When you looked forward again, he was so close that you flinched, startled.

His hands shot to your hips, squeezing them roughly, pressing you against the wall. A startled gasp came out of your mouth, barely a second before his mouth hit yours. Since your lips were still open from the gasp, he took advantage of the moment and immediately drove his tongue into your mouth. Even if you had wanted to scream, it would not have been possible.

Crosshair's hands on your hips pressed you upwards, one of his legs drove between your thighs and spread them hastily and roughly, shortly after his hips scooted forward and his cod piece pressed against your clothed womanhood.

With very mixed feelings, you clung to his shoulders and at the same time tried to somehow detach yourself from him.

He started rutting his cod piece against your core. His mouth left you and close to your ear, breathing heavily, he murmured in a voice filled with his arousal: "Admit it, that feels good".

It did, so good that you felt dizzy.

But that was only an impulse, imposed heat. It wasn't what you wanted and yet, for a moment, it felt like Crosshair was worth sinning for.

"I bet I can make you come without us even having to undress."

"Stop it... that's not true... let me go" you said breathlessly, sounding unconvincing.

"Really?" he cooed teasingly "So if I put my hand down your pants now, your pussy won't be wet at all?"

Just the thought made your clit throb.

A whimper came from your throat, there was excitement but also a certain desperation behind the sound.

"Please don't..."

„Why?“ he whispered „I could make you feel so good. Grab you just right, fuck you just right, the way you really want it, the way yo need it“

By now your pussy was dripping and you hated yourself and him for that.

Crosshair placed open mothed kisses on your neck, still grinding into you, his hands on you grabbing around your thighs.

„Damn“, you cursed, reached out into the force and janked him away from you.

He stumbled backward, startled. Perplexed, he stared at you.

"You used the force against me," he said indignantly.

"You're physically superior to me, what was I supposed to do?" you snapped angrily, your arousal finally subsiding.

"You could have just told me to let you go," he chided.

Your eyes narrowed as you said, "I'm sorry, but I did, twice."

He snorted.

"You weren't very convincing, you have to admit."

With a sigh you said, "You know what? At the risk of repeating myself- fuck you, Crosshair! It doesn't matter how convincing I supposedly sounded."

He gritted his teeth, lowered his gaze, and finally admitted, "You're right, of course. I definitely went too far, already when I stole your shirt, now I've put the bitter icing on the cake."

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up," you confirmed somberly.

"Kriff! All I wanted to do was...." he interrupted himself with a sigh.

"There's one more thing you need to get straight"

Crosshair looked at you questioningly.

"What would that be?"

"This thing you spoke of that only you can supposedly give me, that's just an extra, a kink. I love Tech and I'm not going to leave him for you and I'm not going to cheat on him with you."

It was strange, but you could have sworn you saw his heart break in his eyes.

"I see."

"I don't think you do," you returned doubtfully.

He spread his arms and raised his voice: "What do you expect from me? That I just give up? That's not going to happen"

You shook your head and turned away, heading for the ladder.

He grabbed you by the jacket and yanked you back.

You wheeled around and knocked his arm aside.

"Don't fucking do that!" you yelled at him.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, finally raising his hands in resignation and avoiding your gaze.

You left Crosshair back on the roof. Your feet carried you to the Marauder. You wanted to be with Tech, even had to. You needed his warming, soothing sweet presence.

You knew that all but Echo and Tech were housed on Cid's upper floor, so they could work on the ship at any time without disturbing anyone's sleep.

You would have liked to be alone with Tech, but you knew you couldn't just drag him away from his work now, and Echo was a pleasant fellow. Maybe you could watch them or give them a hand, that would help you for the moment.

You noticed that your thighs were trembling, as were your arms.

Adrenaline was leaving your body, only now you realized how tense the situation with Crosshair had really been.

"Great," you grumbled to yourself.

After a few calmer breaths, your muscles slowly but surely quieted down and you continued towards the open ramp of the Marauder.

When you got into the cockpit, you saw the two of them fiddling with the console. Tech was lying underneath it between hanging cables and Echo was standing in front of it.

"Hi guys, can I come in?" you asked timidly.

"Of course darling" came Tech's voice from under the console "I'm busy here but if you like you can watch".

Echo turned to you briefly and greeted you, but his head whipped around twice, looking at you seriously with a probing gloomy look the second time.

He kicked at Tech's leg.

"What the..." grumbled Tech.

"Get out of there. Now," Echo demanded sternly.

Tech peeled out from under the console between the cables. He sat up, adjusted his goggles, and looked at you. His brows shot up and his eyes widened.

You wondered what was going on when you realized you hadn't adjusted yourself after Crosshair, you probably looked like someone had roughed you up.

Shit.

Your jacket was hanging askew and was a little torn, your hair was disheveled, your shirt had ridden up a bit and there were visible pressure marks on your hips from Crosshair's hard grip. You had some scratches on your fingers that you hadn't noticed before, partly because of the darkness outside. You had probably hurt yourself on the sniper's armor when you clawed at it.

Tech hastily got up and came over to you. His gaze wandered over you with a worried look. His hands hovering along your face as if he was worried to break you.

"What happened?" asked Echo behind him.

"Who did this?" asked Tech, suddenly sounding oddly calm, the kind of calm you felt before a storm came.

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Stalker X Stalker, Part 11

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo

Plot? What's that? I only know domestic fluff

She really didn’t know what to think when Tim asked to move in for a second time the next morning.

On the one hand, it felt like she was taking advantage of him. He’d seen her get shot and she doubted he’d really thought rationally since.

On the other hand… he essentially lived there already and it would do a lot to alleviate the anxiety the both of them had...

She rubbed her eyes -- ha, as if she hadn’t been awake the whole night to make sure he hadn’t had nightmares -- for an excuse to look away while she thought. What should she do? She would be lying if she said she didn’t want him to move in, she knew that was clouding her judgement, but even if she recognized her bias it wasn’t easy to just put it aside.

She sighed lightly and lowered a hand from her eyes. Tim looked really cute after having just woken up with his hair all messy and his eyes half lidded and one of his cheeks slightly flatter where he’d been resting his head against her and who can really say no to that face?

… well, Marinette supposed that would allow both of them to relax a little...

She let her hands drop to rest on top of his.

“Sure, darling. If you want you can move in… but, if you ever want to move out, I won’t stop you. Just ask.”

He cracked a tiny smile. “The only time I’d ever move out of this place is if you were changing apartments.”

She snickered. “Where I go, you go?”

“You have no idea,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “You bats and your dumb cryptic sentences. Would it kill you guys to ever say a single thing directly?”

“Yes. I’m pretty sure that I would drop dead on the spot.”

Her lips twitched. “Oh yeah? Heart attack or sniper?”

“Can’t tell you. I would drop dead on the spot.”

“Damn. Foiled again by the… mystery cause of death!”

The smile on Tim’s face brightened and he looped his arms around her. “You’d save me.”

“Oh? And miss out on my chance to get that rich boy money you probably gave me in your will?”

He schooled his face back into a serious look. “I see. I’ll have to write you out of my will, then. Make sure you bring me back.”

“Nooooooooo! My scheme! Ruined! Now how will I become a millionaire without trying?!”

They looked at each other for a few seconds, his face purposefully smug and hers pinched into a frown…

And then they broke character, giggles falling from their lips and smiles lighting up their faces. She tipped her head forward until it rested against his chest. He squeezed her tighter.

Then, to her surprise, he flopped back on the couch, pulling her with him. “Alright, sleepy time,” he said cheerfully.

“Darling --.”

“You didn’t sleep last night. Sleep.”

She pressed against his chest until she could sit up just enough to glare at him. “I have super strength. May not be as strong as Connor or anything but I can definitely get away from you if I wanted.”

“Of course.” A smug look made its way across his face. “But you wouldn’t hurt your darling, would you?”

She glared harder despite the slight reddening of her cheeks. His smirk didn’t waver.

Marinette huffed and dropped back down. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me.”

She didn’t respond to that, instead just grumbling ‘pillows don’t talk’ and letting herself finally nod off.

Having two perfectionists trying to figure out the layout of a limited living space might not have been their brightest idea. They should have, at least, gotten someone to help.

Instead they had brought out Marinette’s tape measure and mapped out the entire apartment on a sheet of paper and then made tiny shapes for the furniture. Now, they sat at the table, obsessively moving pieces around.

It could have been worse, of course. Neither of them were the type to hoard things. He wasn’t all that concerned with anything other than his clothes and his laptop. Marinette only cared about her clothes, video games, and baking tools -- all of which could be tucked away in the provided closets and cabinets with ease. If needed they could probably get by with nothing but a dresser and a pull out bed each.

So, yeah, their own personal living styles weren’t the problem…

It was their work. Who knew their workaholic tendencies would be their downfall (besides everyone, of course)? She needed a lot of space for her fabrics and mannequins to make sure nothing got damaged. Tim would need a lot of space for his supercomputer if he didn’t want to make the long trip to Bristol every night.

Speaking of the trip to Bristol! He needed a place to put his motorbike and his suit. Shit. He could find a place to park his bike if he tried, but… he started cutting out a piece for the suit.

Marinette saw him adding more stuff and her head hit the table.

He snickered a little and poked her hair until she, however reluctantly, picked her head back up to send him a halfhearted glare. He smiled, reaching over and plucking the tiny square of paper from where it had stuck itself to her forehead. A blush spread across her cheeks.

Then she happened to glance down and her annoyance was back in full force.

“We didn’t think this through,” she said.

His smile became more strained as he looked down at their map. “Moving sounds so easy on paper.”

“Maybe it’s easier for people who don’t have such complicated lives.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I’m quitting.”

“Aw, but then I’ll lose my patrol buddy! I’ll have to do everything with your siblings instead.”

His nose scrunched up. “God, no. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, you love your siblings.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know they’re the worst.”

She looked like she was going to argue, but then she tipped her head and nodded. “True.”

He snickered.

Their smiles disappeared quickly as they looked back at the layout of the apartment. Could they even fit all their stuff?

… wait, actually, could they?

He started shuffling things in and he realized that, if they wanted to have space to walk, there wasn’t enough room. No wonder they’d had so much trouble finding a layout that would work. It was literally impossible. They needed more space.

She hesitated slightly. “... what if we bought out the apartment next to this one for work? It could even double as a backup in case you ever decide you want to have a place of your own again.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Can we do that?”

“You’re rich, you could probably figure it out.”

He rolled his eyes. “I mean, yes, we can technically kick out the people next door but I’d kind of prefer if we didn’t displace random families.”

“I mean… we could always…” She made a stabbing motion.

He couldn’t laugh at that. Laughing at that would be bad. So he wouldn’t do that.

“Bean -- Mari -- no.”

“I’m just saying! We’d even get the apartment at a discount!”

Okay, he might have laughed a little.

… they didn’t end up stabbing anyone but, hey, if the family next door happened to get some huge scholarship courtesy of The Wayne Foundation that they didn’t remember applying for with the stipulation that they would have to move districts... then they just so happened to have a lucky break. Good for them.

Which meant that they only really needed to buy a desk, a dresser, and a bed.

So they went to Ikea! A boring place where no shenanigans ever happen!

… well, no shenanigans ever happen if you’re not a pair of vigilantes that bounce bad ideas off of each other like they were playing a particularly intense game of Don’t Let The Balloon Touch The Ground and the entire world would blow up if they dared to lose.

Speaking of things that touch the ground, the resident dumbasses should probably have kept their feet firmly planted on it.

Marinette squinted down the escalator. “Oh, they’re definitely going to kick us out.”

“Definitely,” he agreed.

“Maybe arrested.”

“Maybe that, too,” he said brightly, checking the pot over his head to make sure it wouldn’t come off.

“... the PR team is going to hate us,” she warned him.

“Absolutely.” He could feel the gaze on the back of his head, telling him that the employees had noticed them and, quite likely, knew what they were planning. “Ready?”

A grin spread across her face. “Of course.”

He smirked. “Good, because they’re coming.”

She glanced back at the employees making their way over to interfere.

“Threetwoonego!”

He pushed off with his foot, relishing in her indignant yelp, and grinned widely as he started the very bumpy ride that was snowboarding down an escalator. He’d thought he’d be more or less okay because he had been a skateboarder but it turns out that boarding down moving stairs is very different from boarding down flat planes. He let loose a string of curses as he struggled to hold the plank of wood to his feet and not die a very painful, very stupid death.

Marinette came whizzing past him, eyes wide and the tray she’d been using as a board somehow missing.

She met his eyes briefly and flashed a grin.

And then they crashed.

It was about as painful as one would expect. Tim was glad that he’d thought to give himself a pot-helmet-thing because it had cracked down the middle and he didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t done that.

And he was the lucky one. He got out with a few bruises and a better appreciation for his own life. Marinette was nursing an arm that looked like it was trying to imitate the escalator they had just slid down, lips pressed together tightly as tears threatened to escape.

He carefully crawled over to check for any other injuries that might have been less noticeable.

She grinned up at him, either because he was currently checking to see if her teeth were all in place or to be smug. What she could currently be smug about, though, he had no clue…

“You’re so stupid,” he told her, just in case she wasn’t already aware.

Her smug grin remained even after he had removed the finger from her mouth. “You’re just mad that I won.”

“... sorry?” He hadn’t even been thinking about their impromptu race, too concentrated on the whole ‘making sure they hadn’t just died’ thing, and it took a moment for his brain to catch up. Then he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, won a pretty new cast, maybe.”

She snickered. “You had to cheat and you still didn’t even win. How does it feel to suck?”

“Probably still better than it feels to have a broken arm.”

She sat up. “It’s fine, I’ll live.”

He snorted. “You bet you will. I’m going to bubble wrap the whole apartment.”

“You can’t babyproof the place! We don’t even have kids yet!”

Before he could question her use of the word ‘yet’, the employees managed to get their attention. They were trying to get down the currently very broken escalator and the one that was currently going the wrong way for them. Despite this, the two of them had only a minute max before they reached them.

Marinette and Tim locked eyes.

“Run?” She suggested.

He was already getting to his feet. He dropped a business card for the employees and turned to her.

He grabbed her good hand and they sprinted out of the store, smiles lighting up their faces and laughter spilling from their lips. The poor employees hadn’t stood a chance of catching the two vigilantes, even injured as they were. They knew the city like the back of their hands and were able to weave in and out of side streets and alleyways without much thought.

Once they were sure that no one was following them -- leaving a store unattended in Gotham was a terrible idea and Tim had left a card for them to call -- she tugged him to hide between two buildings.

They squeezed into the tiny space and leaned into each other for support while they struggled to catch their breath. Her good hand came up to grip his shirt. He rested his forehead against the wall above her.

She lifted her gaze to his and he wished she hadn’t because he’d already been out of breath enough before she’d done that but now here was staring into her blue eyes, the corners crinkled in a way that had become so familiar to him over the past few months, and god… all he could think about was all the stories that described how time stopped when you fell in love… and how those stories couldn’t be more wrong. He would have hated for that to happen because if time stopped then he would have to see that perfect smile of hers in anything but real time and he doubted that it would have looked nearly as beautiful without the way her shoulders shook with barely restrained laughter or the slight fluttering of her lashes or the steady pinkening of her cheeks.

She finally gave a little puff of laughter. “What?”

He blinked once, trying to bring himself back to what was going on. “Oh, I was just thinking…”

“Oh? Don’t strain yourself.”

He smiled. “I was just going to say something nice but instead I’ll insult you on your stealth. You’d be a terrible criminal, laughing during your getaway.”

She rolled her eyes. “You laughed, too.”

“Yeah, but when I did it it was super cool and professional.”

“Ah, I see. How could I not have noticed it before?”

He snickered. “Well, if today has proved anything, it’s that you are not, in fact, the world’s greatest detective.”

She grinned. “You were the one that put the pot on my head originally.”

“You came up with the idea to go down the escalators like that.”

“You agreed.”

“You -- I -- shut up,” he complained, sending her a glare.

She smiled at him until he pretty much had no choice but to smile back, letting his head fall the last few inches to press his forehead against hers.

Her hand gripped his shirt a little tighter.

He moved his hands from the wall to her waist.

They stood there, letting time pass them by, searching each other's eyes for some sort of answer to the question neither of them could bring themselves to ask aloud. He bit his lip, trying to swallow down his anxiety.

Her eyes flicked to his lips, her own parted as if to say something, before she seemed to think better of it.

She closed the gap. His heart skipped a beat at the feather-soft feeling of her lips against his and he let his eyes flutter shut. She teased his lip out from between his teeth with her own.

And then she pulled back just slightly.

He opened his eyes just enough to see her shy smile and the blush lighting up her face.

“You… you really have to stop doing that. They’ll get chapped --.”

He pressed forward again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was far more desperate than the last. She gasped quietly and he took the chance to slip his tongue into her mouth. The hand fisted in his shirt slid up to wrap around the back of his neck, dragging him even closer. He pressed her back against the wall, a hand trailing up to tangle itself in her hair, trying to reach more --.

She brought her bad arm up to cradle his face and then yelped in pain.

He jumped back. Right. Broken arm. Looks like a staircase. Not good.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh… let’s get you treated.”

Marinette ended up with a pink cast and an order to stay home for at least a week.

She pouted, resting her head back against the couch as she watched him shuffle around in search of his second shoe (it was tucked behind her back, but he didn’t need to know that). “I’m not a child, you guys can’t just ground me,” she complained for what felt like the millionth time.

Tim rolled his eyes. “We all have to do it when we break bones unless it’s an all hands on deck situation. Been like that since even before I was Robin.”

“But B goes out with broken bones all the time!”

“That’s different.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“It is. If there is a situation where B can be a hypocrite he will do it”

Marinette scoffed. “And you’re allowed out because…?”

He started counting off on his fingers. “None of my bones are broken, my job requires me to leave, I don’t get in trouble 9/10 times I leave the house… should I go on?”

“Last one is a lie,” she mumbled.

“No, I only get in trouble, like, 8/10 times I leave.”

It was hard to maintain her glare. She settled for sticking her tongue out at him like the mature adult she was. He returned it, despite the fact that he was also an adult according to the law.

He grinned and came to sit next to her on the couch. She shifted around until she was leaning against him instead of the couch, legs tangling with his.

He didn’t say anything about the blatant attempt at trapping him there with her. Instead, he leaned closer to her face and said: “Speaking of leaving, do you happen to know where my other shoe is?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why do I get the feeling that you already know where it is?”

He snickered. “I know you, Bean. So, can I have it back?”

“Hm… I don’t know…” she said, twirling his tie around her hand.

He let her pull him down for a kiss. She giggled against his lips as his hands ghosted over her in search of the missing shoe. She kept her good hand at his collar as a kind of silent promise that she wouldn’t -- couldn’t -- move the shoe, even throwing her bad arm around his neck just in case.

He pulled away a few moments later, squinting at her suspiciously. “I’m beginning to suspect I’ve been tricked.”

Her eyes widened in mock innocence. “Me? Trick you? I could never.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, where is it?”

She glanced at the time and smirked. “I guess you’ve earned it…” She pulled her foot out from between the couch cushions to show him the shoe she had hastily slipped on when he’d gotten close.

He scoffed lightly and slipped it off. “Y’know, if I had literally one of the most common fetishes in the world that wouldn’t have worked.”

“But you don’t, so it did,” she chirped with a cheeky grin.

“Guess that’s true…” He pecked her lips one last time before pulling his shoe on and she grinned as she watched him head to the door.

Only to stop a little short because of a knock.

He raised his eyebrows and glanced back. “Are one of my siblings coming over?”

She pressed her lips together thinly to keep herself from laughing. “It’s not any of their normal times. I just figured that, if I had to be home alone all day and couldn’t really do any work because my stupid cast, I should at least keep busy while you were gone.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He stepped forward and opened the door to reveal a delivery guy with three giant boxes. The furniture they had ordered from Ikea had arrived.

He signed for them and then turned to glare at her. “You planned all this so I couldn’t go.”

“I mean… you could always leave me here to do them myself.” She batted her eyelashes at him innocently. “Of course, my broken arm will make it a little difficult but I’m sure I’ll manage.”

She had been stared down by Batman in full kevlar, she could handle the glare Tim gave her in his slightly messy work suit.

Then, he sighed. “Do you have a backup plan?”

“Obviously. Don’t think you’ll like that one as much.”

He scowled. “You’re really this determined to not be home alone?”

“Oh, no, this is about getting B to allow me out. Trapping you and your siblings here is just a means to that end.”

“You’re going to be trapping my siblings here, too?”

She grinned. “Yep. They show up all the time, might as well use that.”

His shoulders slumped a little.

She giggled. “If I have to stay inside all the time then so do you guys. It’s the rules.”

And, so, she reached for him until he pressed a short kiss to her lips.

Then, they got to work. Or, rather, he did. She had been relegated to just sitting nearby and helping him figure out how to build it.

She took a few pictures for their public accounts as necessary: a picture of him with three screws poking out of his mouth while he tried to figure out the weird L-shaped tool he’d been given, a picture of the two of them staring at the instruction sheet with confused frowns on their faces (taken by Tikki), Vanelope enjoying the boxes the stuff had come in, what was definitely not a thirst pic of Tim, and then the finished furniture in the apartment.

It was there, right before she was about to post it, that she realized that she hadn’t actually publicly followed any of the Waynes. She squinted at her bio, which proclaimed that she would only follow people she genuinely liked, and then at the ten people she had followed. The internet would notice if she suddenly followed eight more people.

“Darling?”

He peeked an eye open from where he was relaxing on the couch and then raised an arm for her. She took his hand and smiled a little when he pulled her into his lap so he could hug her like a pillow.

Then she pulled a more serious look to her face. “Do you want to go public or not?”

He buried his face in her neck. “Sure.”

“... not even gonna think about it?”

He shrugged. “They’re going to suspect it no matter what. Especially since we were goofing around in an Ikea of all places and you’re uploading pictures of me helping you with furniture.”

She nodded slightly. “I know, but I don’t have to upload them.”

There was a long silence as they considered their options.

Eventually he just sighed and tightened his grip on her. “I’ll go with anything you want to do, Bean.”

She relaxed slowly and, hesitantly, she sent him the photos. “Here, you can upload them, too. Might as well make it public on both of our accounts.”

He picked his head up slightly to check out the pictures. She felt his lips curl into a smile against her shoulder at the picture of Vanelope. “This one is nice.”

She snickered. “All cats are cute, obviously it would make a nice picture.”

He hummed his agreement. “No offense to you, you’re cute and all, but the cat definitely wins the cutest here.”

“I’m not offended at all. We could never beat that.”

Then, she got an idea.

“Except… maybe… want a picture of us kissing for the reveal?”

“I’ll take any excuse,” he said with a wink.

She rolled her eyes even as she felt her face warm. “You don’t need an excuse to kiss me, dumbass.”

Now it was his turn to blush. Yay, revenge.

… also, it would be cute for the picture if they were both a little red for it.

She twisted in his lap to press a kiss to his lips. His hands came up to cradle her face. She threw her bad arm around his neck, fingers threaded in his hair.

Her camera clicked. They ignored it.

#im going to write a million words of fluff and no one can stop me #unless i get like zero likes #im v motivated by likes and reblogs pls guys i need it #pls #also they're getting worseeeeeee #tim is lowkey possessive and mari is lowkey controlling #but its v lowkey so #baaasically doesn't exist #stalker x stalker #maribat #tim drake #red robin #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #timari #timmari #timinette #shutterbug

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alphabravocharliedelta · 3 years

Text

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader VIII

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Chapter VIII

Word Count: 6200+

[Chapter VII] [Chapter IX]

Summary: After somehow reconciling with Adler, Bell and the team are left to continue their pursuit of bringing down the undercover spy ring, but it proves to be more of a challenge as Bell struggles to move on from their Perseus-affiliated past.

Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, mention of drugs, torture

Notes: As mentioned, huge time skip! I also apologize in advance for writing this but at the same time... Yeah, have fun. Thanks for making it this far though!

[Y/N] “Bell” [L/N]

January, 1984

CIA Safehouse, West Berlin

"We’re going to be a bit busy this month, Bell. Are you sure you can handle the safehouse alone?”

You roll your eyes at Adler’s worries. “It’s just one month. Nothing to worry about if you guys do your jobs, right?”

It didn't settle his anxiousness. Adler's been rather nitpicky leading up to this day, making sure nothing was out of place, and that everything was accounted for. Now, he was talking to you as if it was your first time staying home alone.

“The phone is right there." He points to the landline on the table. "Sims will be in charge of communications between us, so give him a call if anything happens. We'll try to update you on what's going on with our end, but no guarantees.”

“Fine." You close the fridge, unscrewing the cap to the water bottle you just took out. "I still don’t get as to why I can’t go along, but have fun I guess.”

“You’re not going anywhere with that leg of yours.”

“It’s healed already!”

The entire team shuffles out the door, and you could hear their vehicles start up. Adler lingers behind at the doorway, watching you gulp down some water. You eyed him curiously, before tossing the plastic away. “Don’t you have to go?”

Adler adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder and straightens up slightly. “I was thinking… When we come back, I can take you somewhere."

A smile tugs at your lips. “Is that your way of apologizing for not bringing me to D.C.?”

“You can say that.”

“Is that a date then?”

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

“God, get a fucking room!” you hear Woods howl from outside.

Adler tilts his head slightly over his shoulder, slight annoyance written on his face, before resuming. "There's a couple CIA associates that's going to visit the safehouse a few days. You're technically not supposed to be here, so try to stay out of their way."

"If they stay out of mine."

He gives you a final lookover, before parting off and getting into the driver's seat of his car.

You watched as he pulled away from the driveway, waving farewell to your teammates before closing the door. Now, it was just you and the safehouse in West Berlin.

Adler, along with the rest of the team, were called back into the Pentagon to go over the upcoming operation consisting of the prison transport. You couldn't exactly tag along since, of course, since you're technically dead. Adler said he would pull a few strings to birth you a real identity and all (like he'd done before) but so far nothing led up to him fulfilling that promise… yet.

Not all of them were going to Washington though, a couple being relieved of their duties for a short vacation. Mason didn’t give you much details when he left the first week of December, confidentiality and privacy a part of it, but you knew that you, in the end, were going nowhere. You also heard that Hudson took a small leave to spend time with his family (you didn’t even know he had one).

It didn't help that you also sustained several injuries from a mission one month ago, where NATO decided to attack a Soviet missile convoy out of spite for what they did to their training facility in November. To put it short, you took a good tumble down the snowy cliffside while providing overwatch for the team, and gained a small concussion and a fracture in your leg. It wasn't as bad as it seemed, but it was enough to make you limp a couple weeks.

You weren't supposed to be there, but you managed to convince Hudson to slip you into the strike team. Needless to say, Adler had ripped you a new one post-mission upon finding you lying on the ground underneath a pile of snow.

"How the hell did you fall off?"

"Someone snuck up on me. Don't worry though, I took him with me. Now are you going to help me up?"

The lecture that followed was a long one, but obligatory. It was his way of caring, you suppose. What better way to spend the holidays than to walk around with crutches while waiting for a tiny crack in your bone to heal?

Not much was done for Christmas, but it did have its highlights. You did wake up to a brand new black bomber jacket sitting on your desk that morning, and had a gut feeling who it came from. The rest of the team that stayed behind assembled together a small barbecue dinner, Sims calling the shots. He was a pretty good cook, you had to admit (much to Woods’ opposition). It was a casual day consisting of beer and food.

Now you have a whole month to yourself.

Sighing, already bored, you span around on the swivel chair you sat on. You already did your paperwork ahead of time, and even made sure everyone else’s was well sorted and organized. If someone had given you a heads-up that you were going to be stuck here, you would have put it off.

Pulling yourself back to the table, you plopped a notepad in front of you, pencil in hand. A good amount of pages were filled out, and you estimated almost 2/3rds of it were left. The pages consisted of a multitude of things, such as notes, drawings, or translations. There were a couple of times where you would try to sketch out the dreams you had while sleeping on the job. While they weren’t great, both in context and in technical skill, you were proud of it… kinda.

The notepad was freely accessible, and Woods would sometimes write little comments about the drawings in the corners of the page. Or Lazar who would try to draw the same thing. And it just so happened that you found a note that said “Bell has a crush” in Woods’ handwriting, so you immediately ripped it out and threw it into the incineration pile.

After taking the time to eat Woods' snacks to spite him, especially that last bit of Hershey's, you powered on your Walkman, shoving in MIX 2 and settled yourself in front of the arcade machine.

When you were hungry you would check the fridge, and everytime you expected some kind of new dish to appear. But instead there were just a few bottles of German beer, some leftovers, and a stack of TV dinners that looked like it had been sitting there for a while.

0000

Over the course of two weeks, you explored every bit of the place, every nook and cranny, and read every piece of paper you could find. There were newspaper clippings of the Kennedy assasination, old mission details and briefings, as well as some unprocessed polaroids. The supply area was especially interesting, a bunch of locomotive parts lying around.

The time did come where two particular individual people had come to visit. It was dead early in the morning when they came in, and you, who couldn't get any sleep that night, almost shot them when they entered. After de-escalating the situation, they were just as surprised as you were, but introduced themselves as Carson and Ben, the two CIA agents Adler mentioned beforehand.

Coming up with a bullshit lie, they seemed to believe you, and left you alone. If you didn’t bother them, they wouldn’t bother you.

It felt a bit awkward working around strangers, as you couldn't estimate their skills and predict their next thought. Being the safehouse members made you comfortable, so to be paired up with two random CIA agents was difficult to adapt to. But, it wasn't without reason, as the CIA eventually expanded their counteractive measures against Perseus.

The majority of the time, they were too busy putting stuff up on the evidence board, as Adler said they would. You had yet to take a peek, not wanting to disturb their work and instead would check the data terminal near the red room constantly, waiting for emails notifying you about what was happening back in the states.

One past email caught your eye, seeing how your nickname was the subject line. It dated to about late last year.

>>from R. Adler, to E. Black: Re: Bell

》》I appreciate your concern over Bell, Black. But, after some consideration, and do take this kindly, but I believe it is within everyone's best interests for you to stop inquiring about them. They're fully capable of handling themselves and have proved to be able to make conscious decisions. Any further messages regarding Bell will be ignored. There are more important things to concentrate on.

Reading Adler's defense against Black made you smile unwillingly. His words in text sounded polite, yet you could imagine his bitterness as he typed it out. The simple fact that Black would ask about you was a bit daunting. He didn't as much as show any concern for you in the past, and you never even got to see his face. You never really did take a liking to Black, and after what Nikitin told you, it felt like the only people to be trusted were just the safehouse members.

Leaning back in the chair, you let it turn on its own as you gazed up at the roof, wondering how everyone was fairing. They could handle themselves without you, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt and lonely without them.

It’s just one month.

Two more weeks to go.

0000

The day finally came where the long awaited phone call arrived.

You just came back from the practice range when one of the agents walked over to you, with one of the safehouse phones in hand. “You're Bell, right? They’re asking for you.”

Setting down Lazar's modified sniper rifle back in its respectful padded box, you took the brick-like phone from Carson. “Bell.”

“Damn, you didn't even tell them your name?” Sims’ jaded voice came from the other side.

You grin hearing his voice. It felt like ages hearing him speak. "Well, thanks to you, now they know."

“You're welcome. I saved you the work. How’s it over there?”

“Uh, not much. Adler’s acquaintances are finalizing the evidence board, so it should be ready when you guys return,” you inform. “How’d the missions go?”

Sims gives out a drained laugh. “Fucking tiring, I’ll tell you that. They had us jumping from state to state." You could hear some muffled conversation in the background, and you could only assume that he covered the receiver. "Sorry, Bell. Some hardass wants me to take a look at something. Can't talk for long, but…"

He proceeded to give you a quick rundown on what happened the past month, talking mainly about the prison transport conspiracy. Sims wouldn't tell you what happened with the person Stitch was interested in, but he informed you that they were currently in the middle of interrogating a few individuals, trying to get information about Perseus’ next move. You didn’t have anything else to offer, sadly, and wished them luck.

"Also, just passing a message from Hudson. He wants you to look over the evidence board as a precaution."

"Yeah, got it. Anything else?" you ask, eyeing an impatient CIA agent who also wanted to make a call.

“Adler should be returning tomorrow.”

You fought off a grin. “Sounds good.”

“...You’re not going to ask about Adler?” Sims infers, a bit taken aback.

"...Why would I?"

"Just thought you would want to check up on your boy—"

You hang up, pleased with yourself. Sims was certainly going to hold it against you, but for the time being, it was a small win.

At this point it was no secret that there was something going on between you and Adler, and whether it was romantic or not was up for their consideration. You wondered how the idea even got around, and guessed it was most likely Lazar who happened to let it slip on accident. Nothing really stayed hidden around the safehouse, and if Hudson already happened to hear about it, it didn't seem like he gave a second shit.

Passing the phone back, you look at Carson dead in the eye. "Staring is rude, you know," you reprimand, before heading over to the board.

Your eyes scanned the mass of evidence. A culmination of decades of work, intertwining and connecting with one another all leading to one crime organization: Perseus. There were some pieces you had never seen before, and you gave them a quick read. A playing card was pinned right in the middle of it all; the King of Spades, the title given to Kuzmin himself. There was also mention of Naga, whom you've come to vaguely remember. There were a few yellow stickies on there, personal notes and thoughts made by the two agents. One of them, though, you had to do a double take.

Woods BFF is MIA

"What?"

Did you read that right?

The first person that comes to mind was Mason, but you thought he returned home to be with his family. It must have been a mistake then, or it was referring to someone else. But, as far as you knew, there was no one else as close to Woods as Mason.

"Hey!" You rip the note off, storming over to Ben, who looked up in alarm upon seeing your disturbed expression. "What the hell does this mean?!"

He begins to get flustered, realizing that you knew way more than he anticipated. "I can't tell you that, sorr—"

"Bullshit! I fully deserve to know what's been going on. Is it Mason?"

"I..."

Above you, the lights flicker, but you didn't let that serve as a distraction. "Tell me."

"Like I said—"

There was a loud bang, causing everyone to flinch as a result. You could see Carson's hands slowly glide across the keyboard, keeping a keenful eye on the metal shutters. Ben, on the other hand, backed away from you, withdrawing back to his table.

Dead silence.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up in premonition, a small shiver running down your spine. Your stomach dropped— something was telling you to run.

"Uh… Ben?"

You saw one of the computers lose its signal, and then the next, the rest of them following suit. Carson sends out a string of swears, scrambling to try reboot the system.

That was when the lights turned off.

It was pitch dark. The fans that served as background noise ceased all movement, the electricity ceasing its currents.

"Carson!" Ben yells, and you feel him push past you. "Destroy the drives! Hurry!"

"Wait—"

But, before you could take another step, everything unfolded.

One of the doors was kicked open, gunfire erupting the second after. Diving behind the table nearby, you could hear the screens shattering, the fragments falling to the ground carelessly. The two agents cried out in pain for a split second, and then you never heard them again. A couple bullets went through the desk, narrowly missing you. The sirens went off, a red light beginning to flash overhead.

Someone was invading the warehouse.

What for though? To steal info? If that was the case, then you should have taken the time to memorize all of it if they were planning to purge everything.

Reaching out, you opened one of the desk drawers, feeling around. You felt something cool brush against your hand and didn't waste a breath taking it out, the object revealing itself to be a 1911. Checking the magazine, it was fully loaded and well kept.

Peeking around the corner, you see someone approaching your side of the garage. Although it was dark, you could make out minimal details of the uniform that they wore, and you freeze at the sight of it.

Shit.

You recognized that get up anywhere. Bland and lacking color, with tundra patterned pants and hooded jackets… It couldn't be.

How did they even find this place…?

The CIA mole.

Someone knew Adler and the rest of the team was going to be out. With their best members away, it would have been a perfect opportunity to attack. After all, what the hell was one lone agent supposed to do?

Jumping up from behind the table you aim for the person that neared your position but a figure from behind knocks the pistol out from your hand. It fell to the ground effortlessly, sliding a few feet away from you. About to make a dive for it, you ran forward, only for one of the invaders to bring the butt of their gun downwards to smack the back of your head. Your face slammed onto the ground, blood bursting from your nose. Something cold pressed against your temple as you tried to move,

“Wait,” a gruff voice ordered.

The lights turned back on, the backup generator revving itself into action. Black boots appeared in front of you, a few specks of blood splattered across the leather like glitter.

You were then heaved up by your arms forcibly, the gun now pointed at your left side. A gloved hand grabbed your face, and following up the arm you were greeting with quite the sight. He had a hood over his head, and a gas mask secured tightly around his face. Even if you couldn’t see his face clearly, the voice was unforgettable. You knew enough to identify him without fail.

“Ah,” you begin, giving a scornful leer. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?"

Vikhor “Stitch” Kuzmin was not amused in the slightest.

"—Or should I say ‘eye’?"

The pressure on your chin increased with such force that you thought he would dislocate it.

You could hear the rumble in his throat as he hummed to himself in thought while you glowered at him.

“So, you’re still alive?”

His appearance didn’t show much difference when comparing them to your memories. There wasn’t a lot to look at, but the most outstanding characteristic had to be the whites of his left eye with that ugly scar Adler left as a parting gift. Around his neck hung a large metal piece of the Perseus symbol, and accompanying it was a collection of dog tags, ripped off of the body of his victims. What a sadistic son of a bitch.

Stitch lets go of your face, making up his mind.

"I would leave you here, but I have other plans for you."

He waves you off, and his colleagues restrain your arms behind your back. Any attempts to free yourself were futile, and you were dragged off.

Fuck!

You should've been more prepared. That 1911 was in great condition as well, you should have just fired it the moment you aimed it. And as a result of your lack of decision making, two people were dead and you were now a hostage.

The last thing you see is Stitch stabbing a pink flyer to the evidence board with a knife.

Your thoughts raced back to the team back at the U.S.. What was going to happen to them? It was going to be a hell of a mess to return to, and the idea that there was now a mess to clean up without you there to explain it all is going to be a hell of an issue.

How was Adler going to react?

Eyes widening at the realization, you internally screamed. Stitch's goal wasn't you, as you were just a surplus of his objective to get close to Adler.

A bag is pulled over your head, and is tightened to a close around your neck. The cloth of it was poreus enough to let air in, but it felt suffocating.

With nothing to see or nowhere to run, you were tossed into the trunk of a humvee. It wasn’t long before it started up and drove away, departing away from the mess. You tried to make a mental note of the amount of turns that were taken, but eventually lost count.

After lying down in darkness for God knows how long, Stitch’s destination must have arrived, the main indicator being a swift blow to the back of your head to knock you out, the last thing you heard being the engines of an aircraft.

0000

"You seem a bit eager to return."

Adler takes the cigarette out of his mouth and places his hands back on the wheel. Zenya gave him a mocking side grin, waiting for a response.

"After what happened in Miami, I think some suburban scenery might be fair," was the response he came up with.

Naturally, he couldn't exactly tell her that he was excited to see you again after nearly a month. Adler wasn't granted to leisure to phone you, so Sims or someone else had to do it in his stead. He couldn't help but admit to himself that he had a sense of yearning to hold you again, and it was becoming a losing battle as he fended off his urges to give you a secret kiss on the forehead when no one else was around. The past weeks have been physically draining, and Adler just wanted to rest in your presence.

But, that would have been unprofessional of him. So the closest he would get to you was under the guise of emotional support. And if he just so happened to hold your cheek, hand, or bestow you one of his mini possessions (as a comfort item) in the name of "support", then it's permissible. That kiss was… an exception to the rule. And it should only happen once.

Fucking hormones. He was almost fifty years old and there was still room for those kinds of tenderhearted thoughts? You really were a piece of work.

"Is there someone waiting for you?" Zenya prods. "I heard Woods mention this 'Bell' person."

"Classified."

"C'mon Adler. This is the first time I've seen you like this."

"You'll meet them when we get there."

Zenya gives out a groan, before waving him off. "Still stiff as always. They must have a high tolerance of bullshit if they could handle you."

"You have no idea."

The safehouse comes into view. Nothing seemed unordinary, nor was there the smell of something burning. A part of him expected you to be waiting outside with crossed arms as you tapped your food impatiently, but remembered that he didn't exactly tell you he was returning today.

As for everyone else, they were still awaiting for their ticket home or the next set of orders. It was Adler's duty to return to the safehouse and prepare for the next op, having to brief others on the evidence board and compare it with what they had learned back in Florida.

In his pocket was the souvenir Woods managed to nick for you during the clean up sweep— a keychain of a tiny jar filled with sand and microscopic shells with the embellishing of "Florida: The Sunshine State" engraved into the glass. He told Hudson it was going on the evidence board under the guise of it potentially being related to the prison escort.

It wasn't. Not by a long run.

The car comes to a full stop, and Adler takes the keys out. But, from the moment he planted a foot onto the dirt, he knew something was wrong.

Your motorcycle was parked in its usual spot, and there weren't any unidentifiable vehicles around either. He couldn’t see it, but something inside of him screamed danger.

“Nice bike,” Zenya compliments with a whistle. She rushes over in excitement, bending down to survey the components. “Damn, I’m jealous. Who's this belong to?”

“Bell’s.”

“Is that who’s waiting for you? I like them already.” The small talk was pardoned with Adler’s dour expression as he sent a quick look towards the roof, and Zenya could sense his mood shift. "What's up?"

A steady hum coming from the safehouse told him that the generator was functioning. He expected music to be blasting from the radios but it was dead silent on your end.

"Stay sharp, something off."

Adler's worries continued to increase with each passing step. Zenya followed closely behind, shutting the door of the car with a loud thud. They both stopped in front of the shutters, Adler knocking on it a couple of times to let you know of his presence.

You did inform Sims, who in turn told him, that the CIA agents settled in smoothly. Though, he was sure you wouldn't have bothered them in the slightest, seeing how you're a bit reserved upon meeting new people. But on the chance something did happen…?

After a minute passed, no one came to raise the door.

"...Shit."

Pulling out his secondary, Adler gestures to Zenya to go around the right while he covered left. With his back stuck closely to the walls for cover, he took the extra care to make his footsteps light to avoid alerting any suspects inside.

Gazing down, there were imprints on the dirt. The indents were deep and easy to make out. The owners were carrying something large, and they faced outward, trailing away from the building. There were tire tracks as well, none that he recognized.

After affirming that there was no other suspicious activity around the perimeter, he made his way to the back, where the door handle was hanging off of it.

No gunfire was met upon entry. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of two men who were splayed across their work desk, dead and riddled with holes. The paper underneath them was stained with their own blood. Flipping them over, their eyes were open, frozen in horror, and skin cold to the touch.

"Bell?" Adler called out.

No response.

He repeated your name again, trying to hide his nerves. "Stop fucking around, Bell!"

Did you kill them?

Adler perished that thought away the moment it came into existence. No, you didn't do that anymore. You may be brash, but you weren't that mentally unstable.

He waited to hear you respond back, but to no avail. Adler paced around anxiously, looking for any clues. There were only two bodies, yet there were three of you. A lone 1911 laid lonely on the floor.

Zenya returns in the form of a jog. "There's no one in the house. No signs of struggle either."

"What the fuck happened then?"

An audible crunch came from below. Looking down, Adler removed his foot from the object he stepped on, a few pieces sticking to his soles.

It was a Walkman.

The one he gave you.

Before he could even crouch to investigate, a bright pink caught his eye. Adler marched forward to the evidence board. A knife was stabbed into it, holding up a pink flyer that advertised the grand re-opening of the mall in Pines, New Jersey.

TIME WE END THIS

Clenching his teeth, fury began to overwhelm Adler, knowing full damn well who caused the mess. The entire evidence board was all about him, and it just so happened that he came to visit on the day Adler was gone.

"Stitch."

The name was cased in such hostility and loathing that it nearly made Zenya hesitate to get closer. To see Adler in such a state was seldom, and she couldn’t even recall a moment where he acted in such a way before. His knuckles were turning pure white, nails digging into his palms.

What a coincidence that this menace had paid him a visit after becoming the current spotlight within the past few months— It was time to return the favor.

“He’s trying to bait you, Adler,” Zenya advised cautiously behind him.

“No shit.” He rips the knife out, pocketing it. She was right, but nothing was going to stop him from going. With you gone, it only added to the terror he was about to unleash. “See if the lines are still working."

Adler walked over to the smashed Walkman, dusting away the fragments. Scavenging out the tape, it was still intact, MIX 2 was written in his own handwriting. Nearby was a few drops of blood. It couldn’t have belonged to the bodies, since it was a good distance away.

Bell.

His fingers pressed against the cassette, thoughts beginning to go awry. He couldn’t bring himself to rummage through the mess or check the rooms— Adler already knew what had occurred.

Stay calm.

He grits his teeth, slipping the tape into his pockets before he crushes it in his hand.

Everything may have been set up just to entrap him, but if your life was at stake, it was just a risk he had to take. He owed it to you. As much as he wanted to walk right in, the last thing Adler wanted to do was make a decision that could cost your life.

What more did they want with you?

He should have brought you along.

When it all comes down to it, these were the cards that Perseus decided to play, and Adler could only hope you knew when to pick your battles. He wouldn't hold it against you if you spilled the beans. If you were safe and alive, that was all that mattered, and anything that resulted from information being leaked could be dealt with. He'll make sure of it.

But he knew better. If there's one thing about you he came to recognize, it was that you weren't going down without a fight.

Don't do anything stupid, [Y/N].

The sensation of freezing liquid was what shocked you awake. You had to hold your breath within that moment as whoever was there was pouring a torrent of water down on you.

With a deep gasp of air as the waterfall turned into a small stream, you found yourself in an unfamiliar place. There were a few shelves, stocked with boxes of miscellaneous items. In the corner were some large blue barrels wired with bombs, the red light blinking every five seconds. "N6" was spray painted on it.

While you were bound to a chair, Stitch positioned himself in front of you, gesturing for his comrade to lay off. There was a utility cart next to him, various tools and instruments laid down on each shelf. A repugnant feeling settled in at the sight of it, and you already knew what was about to come.

“Vikhor,” you greet sarcastically, “Your interpretation of a 'welcome back' party isn't what I had in mind."

There was a sliver of panic that started to bud within the pits of your stomach, but you buried it down. Any indication of weakness was something Stitch was looking for, and you refused to give it to him.

“What did you tell them?”

When you didn't respond, you were gifted a hard punch to your jaw. Still, you were undeterred, not even flinching. It was the type of shit you dealt with before, and you lived, so you'll do it again and again, annoying your captors as a consequence of their actions. They couldn’t do shit to you— you were too valuable. As Perseus had the bounty, you had information they wanted.

"Ahh, come on. Adler did much better than that," you taunt.

"I'll ask again. What do they know?"

You glared at Stitch as he crouched to look at his work. There were bits of your blood on him, and you noticed his knuckles were beginning to get raw. You could feel your already beginning to swell from that one hit you took, blood running down your forehead.

"Perseus had high hopes for you," Stitch discloses, and remains of jealousy barely detectable. "Who knew one of his most loyal subjects would turn out to be a disappointment like you?"

You laugh. "I bet…" you began, speaking in Russian. "Kravchenko thought the same of you, before sending you to the gulag."

Furious, he stood back up and grabbed the back of your head, yanking it back. The lightbulb above you swayed in a circular motion as it blinded you. You could see double images and halos (did he inject you with something while you were out?). "I should cut off that tongue of yours."

Don't trust Adler.

"J-Just like old times, huh? If it weren't for the general, we would have been at each other's throats constantly," you remark. “I wonder if he finally decided to croak. Would you guys invite me to his memorial service?”

“You ought to watch your words.”

Sense of time was lost as Stitch continued to badger you with violence and questions, but had no success in loosening up your lips. Your mind felt clouded, and the voices were already returning whispering unwanted messages and orders. You were bound to a metallic chair at your wrists and ankles, the arm rest already stained crimson, and you couldn't even feel your legs. Stitch had already broken your left arm and gave you a collection of slashes and punches just trying to get information out of you.

Even if you were, at one point, a higher position than Stitch, there was always that deadly aura that radiated off of his person that would make you stiffen at first glance. And now that he has a complete advantage, you refused to even buckle despite the punishment you were put under. Sarcasm was a great way to cloud it, but with him, it was like prodding a bear with a stick.

Know where your loyalties lie.

“Shut up,” you hissed under your breath, sick and tired of hearing manipulative voices.

Stitch grinds his teeth at your comment, before he notices a silver glint near your collarbone. Curiously, he pulls it out from your shirt.

The dog tags.

"Disgusting," he verbally recoils, "Adler made you his."

You held your tongue.

"...Good thing that he's coming here to the mall, eh? And after I'm done with you, he'll come to discover your body." Stitch lets the tags slip away from his hand, and it returns to hanging around your neck without a care in the world. Why he didn’t add it to his collection, you didn’t know. Stitch walked over to the silver table, picking up a well polished combat knife. Brandishing it, he took a moment to let its beauty sink in, looking at both sides. "I wonder what kind of face Adler will make when he sees his precious pet broken to pieces."

“Vikhor.” He was met with a dark expression. "If even one of your fingers even touches him, I will fucking kill you."

"After all these years, you're still an annoying little brat."

Your threat didn't seem to faze him.

"Is that how you talk to your superior?" you sneer, recalling the meeting years ago. It felt enthralling to act like this, taunting the man who held your life in his hands. Seeing Stitch's muscles tense at each word, hands balled into fists, you knew he could only withstand so much backlash before finally snapping.

It was a idiotic thing to do, but the fear had to be cloaked. Keeping a cool head would be the correct approach in this scenario, but teasing Stitch was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. This was the same shit you did with Adler years ago, and you were going to do it again, unintentionally or not.

“I'll never understand why the general trusted you, out of all people, to deal with him,” his deep voice projects, maintaining eye contact with you. He Tosses the blade into his opposite hand. “Look what happened. I'm the one that has to clean up your mess."

“It fits your name though— Stitch. Fixing up everything...” You give him a derisive smirk. “Just get it over with, Vikhor. Aren't you getting bored of beating a dead horse?"

“As a matter of fact... I am.”

Grabbing your face, he points the knife directly at your left eye. The edge glistened under the light, highlighting the little grooves and bits of rust in the metal. Your eyes follow it, going to the handle where Stitch gripped it tightly, before trailing up to his face, where the look of bloodlust radiated off of him. You could tell he was just waiting to put the knife to use.

“An eye for an eye, was it?”

He takes the opportunity to let the tip of the knife dig into your skin just right above your eyebrow. Stitch proceeds to slowly drag it downward, and you grip the ends of the armrest and curl your toes as you feel your own flesh being cut open. You suck in some air, preventing yourself from whimpering.

You may have been trained and conditioned to resist all forms of interrogation, but this was just testing your life endurance at this point, your sanity just on the urge of breaking. How long have you been here?

His hand prevented you from flinching away. It was excruciating, and you had to hold your breath to prevent a blood curdling scream from coming out. You could only go down the dictionary of English and Russian swears in your mind as white seared.

Stitch stops, the blade mere millimeters from entering the eye socket. His eyes surveyed you carefully, just waiting for any reaction that would grant him some kind of sadistic satisfaction.

"G...Getting sympathetic are we?" you strain.

The chill of the metal was already lost as warm blood streaked down your face. Your index finger twitches as you feel the blade graze against your eyelid. What the fuck is he waiting for?

"To think we used to work with you," he says, voice quaking with anger. His grip around the handle tightens. His control and handling of the knife was impressive, to say the least, but his inability to make you break was a whole ordeal on its own. "Such a shame to have things turn out this way."

You drew back your lips before spitting at Stitch. "Хуй тебе́."

It landed right on his mask. The brute didn't even flinch or budge, but his eyebrows were deeply furrowed, a vein popping out on his forehead. To see that you got him to such heights of vexation was an accomplishment. Using him as a doormat to let loose verbal insults and taking him lightly was no easy feat, especially with your own life on the line.

Sorry, Russ. I guess I am damaged goods.

In the last few seconds, you see the muscles in Stitch's arm tense, the hues becoming visible just as he delivers your comeuppance in an instantaneous swipe.

#bet you didn't SEE that coming #lmao so anyways ill see myself out #call of duty x reader #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #bo:cw #adler x reader #cod black ops cold war #black ops cold war #call of duty #fanfic #bell #russell adler #abcd briefing #having one eye in call of duty is a fashion statement now #but hey bell and stitch are twinsies now awww #text #call of duty imagine

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actress4him · 3 years

Text

Bonus Whumptober Content Part 2

Original Whumptober fic here

Bonus Content Part 1 here

Find it all on AO3 here

Thanks for all of the support on the last chapter! I appreciate each and every one of the likes and reblogs and follows I’ve gotten.

Tagging @outtacommission again because Keith would not have been resurrected from the dead without his bribery.

Here is chapter 3 of this fic... see you next week for the conclusion!

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: referenced amputation, blood mention, referenced broken bones, self-esteem issues, suicide ideation, death mention, nightmares, abandonment issues

When he woke again, he was lying back down on the pillow, staring up at the blank white ceiling. For one, blissful moment, he didn’t remember the events leading up to him passing out again. But it all came crashing down on him an instant later, taking his breath away.

My leg.

My leg, my leg.

My arm, my face, my leg.

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice was quiet, tentative. Not like him. “Are you awake?”

He wanted to roll over on his side and ignore him. Close his eyes, maybe go back to sleep, pretend that the world and this nightmare didn’t exist for a little while longer. The only reason he refrained was because he wasn’t sure if his stupid, wrecked body could actually manage it.

“What did you do to me?” It was only a whisper, and as slurred as it was, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it was impossible to understand.

Shiro’s breath hitched audibly. If Keith had been looking at his face, he was sure he wouldn’t like the anguished expression that he would see there. But at that moment, he didn’t have the capacity to care.

“Do you want me to...explain...how it...happened?”

No. Yes. He didn’t know. He needed to know why him losing a leg had been the best option, but at the same time he wasn’t sure if he could handle hearing about it. In the end, he just lifted one shoulder - the one that actually listened and responded right away - in a shrug.

Shiro shifted in his seat, leaning forward so just the tip of his white bangs were in Keith’s periphery. “I already told you that you...died. On that planet. So when we got back to the Castle, you dying again was a distinct possibility. We...it’s like Fallenta said. We had to get you into a pod, even though your...your left arm was broken, and your knees, especially, were a mess from where the console landed on them.”

He paused, rubbing his palms together. “We didn’t know what would happen. I was scared to death that some of those breaks wouldn’t be able to be fixed after the pod. I mean, we were headed to Tellima, but…” His head dropped. “We had no choice. That hole in your stomach...you were dying.”

Keith could almost imagine it - the frantic atmosphere in the infirmary, the blood everywhere, the desperate conversations escalating into shouts as they debated on what to do. He had no doubt that he really had been dying, that they had made the choice they thought was best. He just wasn’t sure if he agreed with that choice.

“When you came out of the pod, once the stomach wound was healed enough for you to be stable, Fallenta started working on re-breaking the bones so that they could be set correctly. It was...awful.” The shudder was obvious in his voice. “I’m glad she was able to do it, of course, but I’m also glad that you were unconscious the whole time. Your arm was relatively easy. Your left knee...it took her hours. It was in so many tiny little pieces. And your right…”

Automatically Keith flinched at the reminder of what was no longer there. Of the scarred, chopped off stump that lay just underneath the blanket, and the way his leg just...ended. He could see the void where the rest of it should have been even now, if he were to look down. He was purposely avoiding it.

Shiro heaved a huge sigh. “Unfortunately, your right knee was shattered in a way that had been blocking the circulation in your lower leg the whole time. The tissue down there was...dead.” He paused again. “Keith, I’ve...trust me, I’ve gone ‘round and ‘round in my head ever since we...trying to figure out if there was something I could have done differently. And...I don’t think there was. We did what we had to do to save your life. I’m just...I’m sorry that we couldn’t save your leg, too.”

His leg was gone.

Would he ever be able to walk again? Could they find a prosthetic for him like Shiro had, that worked as well as the real thing? Even if they did, how long would it take him to get used to walking on it? Just walking, not even counting anything like running, jumping, fighting.

Fighting was what he did. It was the one and only thing besides flying that he was good at. He was crap with a gun, he couldn’t sit up in a sniper’s nest like Lance. He needed to be able to move. If he couldn’t, even just for the time that it took to learn how with a new leg and an arm that only half worked...

They’d replace him. What good was a paladin who was crippled? Who couldn’t pull his weight? As soon as Red woke up and found out what happened to him she would realize that he was useless now. And the Princess, the rest of the team...they already knew it. They were probably already looking for a new Red Paladin. How long would it be until they dropped him off on Earth, or on some Coalition planet? Probably as soon as he was healed enough. They didn’t have time to keep taking care of an invalid, they had a universe to save.

They did. Not him. Not anymore.

“Should’ve left me there.”

There was dead silence for a moment.

“What?”

Keith tipped his head back further into the pillow, eyes roving over the featureless ceiling as if he’d see something new. “I tol’ you not to come. I tol’ you to leave me there. You didn’t listen.”

“And now you’re alive.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Keith…”

His hands fisted in the blanket, jaw clenched in sudden fury. “Don’t ‘Keith’ me. Why, Shiro? Why am I alive? What is the point? You know what all this means.”

It meant he’d be alone. And he couldn’t...he couldn’t do alone. Not again. Not when he found a group of people that he actually cared about for the first time in so long. Not when he was just finally getting used to always having people around, always having someone to talk to or distract him from the thoughts that tried to consume him. Not when he barely survived it the first time.

He’d rather be dead than alone.

Shiro sucked in a deep breath through his nose. “That life is gonna be hard for a while? That you’re gonna have to work harder than ever to get back to where you were? Yeah, Keith, I do know. I know more than anyone else.”

Oh.

Shiro must think he was so incredibly self-centered.

He was self-centered.

He should have thought about how acting like losing a leg was worse than dying would seem to the man who had lost an arm and kept going. But instead he was all caught up in how he was going to lose everything he had grown to love and rely on. Acting like the self-absorbed brat that everyone at the Garrison except Shiro had accused him of being.

“That means I also know how hard it is to accept,” Shiro was saying. “It’s going to take time to adjust. But you will, I promise, and I’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

Yeah, right. Keith didn’t know if he was lying to make him feel better, or if he just hadn’t yet realized or accepted that Allura and the rest of the team wouldn’t want to keep him around.

“Just...please, Keith. Please don’t say that we should have let you die. You don’t know…” His voice caught. “I’ve spent these last weeks hoping, praying that you would live. Scared out of my mind every moment of every day that you wouldn’t.”

Keith finally forced himself to turn his head toward his brother and saw him brush the back of his wrist across his eyes. Just that movement was enough to make his heart drop to his stomach. Shiro didn’t cry. At least not where anyone could see him.

Slowly, he slid his hand out across the bed, palm up. A peace offering. It took only a moment for Shiro to take it, squeezing it so hard he thought a few more bones might break.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. And he was. Not for thinking it, but for saying it. He didn’t want to cause any more pain for any of his friends.

That’s why when it was time for him to go, he’d do it quietly. No fuss. Don’t let them see your fear or your pain - he had learned that long, long ago. He was good at it.

Shiro gave him a shaky smile. “It’ll be alright, Keith. I promise.”

Swallowing down the words that sprang to his tongue, he gave a nod. “Okay.”

The next morning Keith woke up to an empty room. In a way, it was a relief. They obviously didn’t see the need to watch over him and baby him twenty-four-seven anymore. But he was, for all intents and purposes, stuck. With no leg, he couldn’t just get up and leave the room whenever he wanted, head to the training room like he normally would in the morning. There’d be no training for him for a long time.

Of course there was breakfast to think about, too, and he wasn’t sure whether to expect someone to bring it to him, or to bring him to it. Either way, he hated it. He had always hated being treated like he was helpless, and now it was even worse because he actually was helpless.

He went ahead and made up his mind, though. No matter what their plan was, he had no desire to be carried through the Castle to the dining room where everyone would give him those looks of pity. Poor Keith. Can’t even walk by himself. It’s just too bad he can’t stay.

He was in the midst of pushing himself up off the pillows, trying to get his right side to cooperate long enough to get in an upright position he could balance in and trying to ignore the strange lightness of his leg, when the door opened and Pidge slipped in.

“Hey,” she said softly. Padding over, she perched carefully on the edge of the chair that first Hunk, then Shiro had occupied.

Tucking his left leg up close to him - the knee creaking in protest at being used for the first time since healing - Keith cleared his throat. “Hi.”

Silence fell, but it had never been awkward between the two. The introverted arms of Voltron. Pidge just gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes saying all the things he knew she would never actually be able to say with words. “It’s good to see you awake. I was really worried about you.”

On the outside, she merely shoved her glasses back up into the bridge of her nose and sniffed. “You better not quiznakin’ ever do that again.”

Keith’s lips turned up at the corners for the first time since waking the day before. “Alright.”

Besides Shiro, he thought he would miss Pidge the most of all. They got each other more than anyone else.

“So.” Straightening up, she whipped a tablet out of her hoodie pocket. “We’ve been working on a leg for you. The Tellimites have crazy good medical technology, so obviously we’re using their notes, but I’ve also been talking back and forth with the Olkari, because they’re, of course, crazy good with biological connections, and we’ve come up with a design that should communicate really well with your body and, essentially, work like the real thing.”

She launched into a detailed scientific explanation of how every inch of it worked, tapping and flicking through various diagrams that just looked like a plain prosthetic leg to him. He didn’t understand but a few words here and there, but he let her talk. This was one of her passions, and it was nice to let her be able to ramble about it for once without having to worry about being rushed. The way her face lit up was worth every second.

“So...what do you think?” Suddenly she sounded uncertain as she blinked up at him. “We definitely want your input on it. I mean, I suggested putting in a rocket booster, but Hunk pointed out that it would be difficult to control with only one. Lance wanted to add lasers that shot out anytime you stomped your foot, but that seemed pretty dangerous for like, running and stuff, so…”

It almost sounded like they expected him to still be fighting with this thing. Well, maybe he would. Eventually. After all, he wouldn’t feel right about just ignoring the existence of the war when the people he cared about were still out there fighting it, so he’d do his best to get back into shape. Maybe he could convince them to find a Coalition planet for him that had soldiers he could fight with someday.

It wouldn’t be the same as fighting with this team, his...his friends. But at least he wouldn’t be completely useless.

He met Pidge’s eyes and realized she was still waiting on an answer from him. Part of him wanted to keep his words to a minimum, not wanting her to hear his new speech impediment, but he swallowed his pride. “It, uh...whatever you guys come up with I’m sure will be great.” He actually hadn’t even been sure whether to expect them to work on it themselves, or put it off on the Tellimites or some other able species. It made sense, though, that Pidge and Hunk would want to jump on this opportunity to design something they had never gotten to do before. He forced a small smile. “But...yeah, let’s hold off on weaponizing it.”

Smirking, Pidge turned off the tablet and stuck it back in her pocket. “Alright, if you insist. Lance is gonna be super disappointed, though.”

“I’m sure.” He could hear the whining and complaining about how boring and unimaginative he was now.

“So, I was supposed to ask you about breakfast…?”

Keith stared down at his hands. “Oh. Yeah. I don’...think I’m really ready to...try to move around yet, so…”

He was such a bad liar. But Pidge either didn’t notice or was being nice and pretending not to, merely nodding and standing.

“Okay. I’ll tell Shiro, he’ll probably bring you a plate down here.”

“Thanks, Pidge.”

She turned back from the doorway and smiled softly at him. “No problem.”

The nightmares came that night.

And the next. And the next.

Snippets of things he didn’t remember during the day, and wouldn’t remember again when he woke. Alarms blaring. Lights flashing. A horrifying crunching sound, then crippling pain and a bitter taste in the back of his throat.

And then...nothing. No one came. No one heard him calling. He stayed there, alone and bleeding in the dark, until the pain became too much and he slipped away.

He woke with tears streaming down his cheeks and a scream on his lips that didn’t quite make it out into the still air of the infirmary, not knowing what he was even crying about other than the nauseating loneliness that weighed him down, pinning him to the bed.

Forcing his right hand to be the one to clumsily scrub away the tears - because it was going to work, dang it - he gritted his teeth and pushed against the weight to flop over onto his side.

Get over it. Get over it, get used to it, stop being such a baby. You’ve always known that this wouldn’t last. It’s a miracle they’ve stuck around for as long as they have. If you try to hang onto them they’ll just end up hating you before they leave.

He got away with hiding in the infirmary for two days before Fallenta declared him well enough to be up and about, and Shiro and Allura showed up with the Altean version of crutches. They escorted him slowly down the halls of the Castle to the dining room, chatting amiably the whole way. Keith assumed it was meant to either distract him from his plight, or to keep themselves from staring and pitying.

“Hey, look who finally decided to join us!” Lance announced loudly as soon as he hobbled into the room. “It’s about time you were out of bed, Mullet-head.”

“What Lance means,” Hunk sighed, “is that it’s good to see you up, Keith.”

“That it is, Number Four!” Coran rushed to pull out his usual seat, and his smile was so bright Keith couldn’t even be mad about the special treatment. “You had us all worried for a while there, for sure!”

Swallowing, Keith fiddled with his spork, unsure whether he was supposed to respond. “Um...yeah. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Keith.” Shiro smiled at him softly, knowingly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He just barely kept another ‘sorry’ from escaping. Instead he nodded, picked up his spork with his left hand, and changed the subject. “So, uh...wha’s been going on lately?”

That was all it took for everyone to launch into tales of short missions in the Lions, repairs on Red, and alliances with Tellima. Keith barely remembered to keep eating his goo as he watched all of the animated faces and gesturing hands with a small smile on his face. It was good to be back among his teammates. They were so unlike him in so many ways, it was no wonder that he had never really fit in with them. But he cared about them anyway. They might not feel the same way about him, but he was so glad that they had become a part of his life.

And now they wouldn’t be anymore. Scowling down into his bowl where no one would notice, he poked at the green goo. How did I let myself get so attached? Before Shiro, it had been many, many years since he had let himself care about anyone this much. He should have known better by then. Letting himself come to consider any person or place home was just setting himself up for heartbreak.

As much as he loved spending this last bit of time with them, he almost wished they would stop acting so natural, as if they weren’t getting ready to kick him out any day now. No one mentioned a search for a new paladin. No one said whether they were headed to Earth, or some other planet.

He wasn’t going to be able to stand the suspense for many more days. They needed to just get it over with.

Later that night, after waking from another nightmare back in his own room, Keith stared at the bare walls, so lifeless compared to the other paladin’s rooms. Maybe I was always prepared for this moment, after all. Or maybe he had just been kicked out and left behind so many times that the ability to settle in was impossible for him no matter where he went.

Struggling to sit up, he groped for the crutches and pulled himself to his feet. He wasn’t going to get back to sleep anytime soon, and no one had expressly forbidden him from venturing out on his own - not that it would have stopped him even if they had.

It took far too long to make it down the four hallways between his room and Red’s hangar. Walking with crutches used a whole new set of muscles that he wasn’t used to accessing, and trying to force his right side to carry that much weight was exhausting. He had to stop and lean against the wall, panting for breath, several times along the way.

But he made it, eventually. He paused once more outside the door, debating whether or not he was actually ready to see the damage done to Red, before he sucked it up and punched the scanner.

He wasn’t ready.

The great mechanical beast was lying on her side, a position that somehow managed to make her look vulnerable despite her hulking size. Her legs were splayed awkwardly as if she had just been dropped there. She probably had.

The worst part, though, was that her face was nearly unrecognizable. What had once been her muzzle was completely smashed in, there were spiderweb cracks across one of her dull grey eyes, and the other was missing altogether.

Actually, he took that back. The worst part was the cold and the silence.

No purr in his head to greet him. No eyes lighting up in recognition of her Paladin. No warmth filling up his chest and spreading out to his fingers and toes. With Red, there was always some kind of heat. Now, though, a shiver shook his body.

Clenching his jaw, Keith forced himself a few steps closer, until he could reach out, balancing precariously, and lay a hand against her warped, dented nose. It was cold, too.

Suddenly tears sprang to his eyes for the first time since his panic attack a couple of days before. “‘m sorry, Red.” He stroked his hand over the metal, feeling all of the bumps that shouldn’t have been there. “I’m sorry this happened to you. You didn’t deserve it. You...you’ve always protected me, and…”

Tipping his head back, he took in the mess of a cockpit again, and this time he saw flashes of his nightmare. Something sharp pinning him to the chair. Blood dripping onto the floor.

One tear escaped, sliding rapidly down to his chin. “I don’t even know how I survived this. But if either of us deserved to survive, it’s you. Please, Red...if you can hear me at all...please don’t give up. I know I...I can’t fly you anymore, but…”

It hit him then, the brutal truth of that statement. He’d never fly her again. He might never fly anything again. He’d known it ever since finding out what had happened to him, but now it stabbed him through the heart, how much he was going to miss this semi-sentient alien ship.

Before he knew it, he was falling none-too-gracefully to the floor, one hand planted in front of him while the other remained on her snout, crutches clattering loudly to the side. The tears came in earnest, then. “Red...Red I lost my leg. I...I can’t fight anymore, I can’t fly…I’m useless.”

He’d told her that before. That time, though, she had reassured him that no, he was her Paladin, he was a defender of the universe, not useless. Never useless.

But now there was no one to reassure him. Even if she had been able, Red would know the truth. He wasn’t her Paladin anymore, he wasn’t a defender of the universe. He was useless.

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

Shutdown Ch. 3

Chapter 3: Damage Control

Summary: Logan finally finds Nate and things continue to escalate.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3

Nate was talking with a couple of Legionnaire hunters in some bar when he got a text from both Bing and Marvin that Logan was heading his way, and that he was acting weird.

Problem number one: he preferred not to be seen with the other hunters around the Coalition. Especially since the hunters didn’t like how “permissive” Nate was about them keeping demons under their roof. The singer took great joy in telling them to take their heads out of their asses and not to attack people. And that he was not going to help them until they stopped.

Problem number two: he very possibly more than a little bit drunk.

“Hey Nate, you might want to watch out. Logan’s upset.” It was from Bing.

“In fine,” Nate struggled to text.

That was when Marvin rushed in, he took one look at the hunters and said, “Get outta here, Google’s coming an’ he’ll kill yah guys if he sees yeh, come on Nate.”[1]

“Come on, let’s wait for Lo,” Nate told him, before the singer called over to the bartender. “Hey Greg, can I get a gin and tonic for my friend, he’s coming in.”

“Nope, nope,” Marvin said and after a couple minutes was able to pull Nate out of the bar. The hunters didn’t leave but they hung around the area.

“Come on Nate, help me out a little” Marvin muttered. Silver flying overhead with Henrik, Patton, and a couple of bags.

“I haven’t had drinks with Logan in ages, I’ve been out of town doing fuck all,” Nate complained.

“Yeah, whose fault is that?” Marvin retorted as he dragged him out.

“It’s freezing out here,” Nate complained. Mare was getting antsy, clearly better able to read the room — so to speak — than his inebriated host.

“Sharp!” Logan called as he walked over, still in his uniform, Roman hot on his heels. Google kept his distance as Bing and Jackie were braced for trouble.

“Ahhh, hey Lo,” Nate smiled, even after Logan walked over and ripped the singer out of Marvin’s hands and slammed him against the brick wall of the bar.

“What the fook[2]!” Marvin spat in surprise. Logan wasn’t violent. Logan at least tried to communicate.

“Where is it?” Logan demanded.

“Hmm, what?” Nate slurred. He was tired, and maybe he was a little more drunk than he thought he was.

Logan’s hands got a little close to Nate’s throat. “My camera, what did you do with it?”

“You said it was fine,” Nate reminded.

“You stole from me!” Logan spat in a rage. “Give it back.”

“Logic,” Silver warned, putting a hand on the Side’s shoulder. “Let’s go back to the base and talk this over.”

“So he can steal from me again?” Logan spat and shoved into Silver with much more force than the other hero expected. He could have easily withstood the shove and not moved but he wasn’t expecting it.

Mare was finally fed up with the situation and easily pushed himself into control of the body, surging out of the necklace and grabbing onto Logan’s wrist with a false light grip. “Hey hero, let’s not make a scene in front of people.”

The Side looked back at Mare and Nate, dark lines coming down from Mare’s eyes. The arm of the suit briefly vibrated for a second before Mare felt electricity coursing through the body. He quickly kicked Logan away before he could do damage the demon couldn’t block.

“All this for a fucking splitter?” Mare shouted. “Thought you were the smart one.”

“I don’t care what you two want it for,” Logan proclaimed, “he stole it from me and everyone is insisting I keep waiting until he gives it back.”

“Come on Nate,” Mare decided, “time to sober up. I think it’s time you got a nightcap, buddy.”

“I just don’t understand why I am forced to sit idly by while things are taken from me,” Logan spat.

“Yeah well Nate’s drunk, so you’ll have to wait until he’s sober again,” Mare told him.

Logan went quiet for a second before something that looked like brass knuckles shot out of his suit and Mare didn’t like the look of them. He knew Logic wasn’t a brawler, so there was no way he was just planning on beating the shit out of Nate and taking the camera off his broken body.

“Okay, alright,” Mare began sliding along the wall, trying to put distance between Nate and Logan, “I’m still using this body, just don’t hit the face. I need it.”

“You demons and your face fixation is a little unnerving,” Roman commented.

“You’d be surprised what you can get away with if you have a nice face,” Mare defended. “If I wanted absolute power I could get that just about anywhere.”

Logan went to hit Nate’s chest, clearly just trying to get into contact with him rather than go for a quick knockout.

“Hey!” Mare yelled.

“Bing, get the can opener,” Silver ordered.

Bing was quick to move it and between Silver holding him down and Bing working with the nanites they got the suit fully turned off.

Logan stopped talking and fighting, just quietly laying there, Mare released Nate who looked a bit more sober and hungover than before and he rubbed at his eyes as Henrik began trying to find what was wrong.

“He said he was fine with me holding onto it,” Nate grumbled, keeping his eyes on the bar. None of the other Legionnaires had come out of help or confront him about Mare.

“I guess he wasn’t,” Roman commented.

“You okay?” Patton asked Nate.

“My head feels like sandpaper and my mouth feels like ass,” Nate grumbled. “I’ll be fine.”

Henrik directed Silver to take Logan to the hospital since he: A— wasn’t breathing; B— didn’t have a heartbeat; and C— was cold to the touch.

Mare quickly took back control of Nate’s body and just ran off into the night before anyone could stop him, and Google stayed following from a distance. He didn’t go into the hospital but he was very clearly watching from a distance for a while before leaving to take his notes and test back to his workshop.

Virgil raced into the hospital, since he’d been called by Patton about what was going on. He proceeded to freak out and have a mental breakdown.

At this moment several things were missed. A swath of freckles covered by a mask. The fact that Virgil’s eyeshadow was always dark and did weird things sometimes. And since people tend not to look down when directed, there was a black stain on the hem of Roman’s normally perfectly white coat.

Logan was admitted to a room for treatment where the doctors stated that he was still pumping blood and his heartbeat had returned, but he wasn’t breathing so he was going to be kept for tests.

After everyone had called asleep, Janus slipped in, disguised as a nurse. He’d been watching for a couple hours, waiting for his moment to move in.

Janus sighed as he walked in, looking at all the Sides. More importantly he looked at the new additions on the Sides. The freckles, the deep black eyeshadow, the black tinge on a coat, and most damning of all Logan laying there in the middle, not breathing.

A deeper sigh came from his chest. “Oh Logan, what have you done?”

From his caplet he pulled a spell book, and flipped it open to a page before he started chanting a spell. He made sure to do so quietly so that none of the Light Sides would wake up. His aura lit up into a magical circle around the Light Sides.

Once Janus stopped speaking, Logan drew in a breath and everything finally went back to normal. Patton’s face had his normal late winter pallor. Roman’s coat was its normal color. Virgil’s eyeshadow looked slightly lighter.

Janus let out a sigh of relief, using his nurse illusion again but promising, “Don’t worry, I won’t let this happen again.”

Carefully the deceitful protective Side left the room and the hospital was left none the wiser.

After the warehouse the silent sniper had followed Google outside the bar until the other heroes had swarmed around Logic. The accidental victim had seemed fine, a little more aggressive than he was usually reported as being. But then there was all this talk about a lack of a heartbeat, and Nate had clearly been possessed and slipped off into the night without waiting to talk to anyone.

Or more likely the demon suspected it would be forcibly placed back into containment.

It wasn’t until the coast was clear that the hunter got into a car and drove just outside of Gainesville city limits while they could still reach the location. It looked like a simple storefront if not for the plain clothes agents inside.

The hunter flashed a quick ID badge and the guards let the hunter in, barely offering a comment as they headed down the stairs to a room where there were four people talking. Three men in suits, and a woman wearing a cloak with rune tattoos going up and down her arms.

The hunter threw the crossbow down in front of the woman, “You gave me the wrong spell.”

“Excuse me,” one of the men in suits barked angrily. “We are having a discussion, if you could wait until we’re done.”

“No, they were sent to get Google, I want to hear how it went,” one of the other men in suits commented, he was in front of a laptop working on something.

“Fine,” the first spat. “I can already see it didn’t work.”

“Calm down,” the woman told him. “What happened?”

“I had the robot in my sights but the arrow hit the hero instead,” Taylor told her. “He saw me, I was told he was a null. I shouldn’t have even been able to hit him by accident.”

“You’re positive that it was one of the null heroes?” She asked.

“Director,” one of the agents walked in with a new folder and handed it to the more frustrated suited man before he handed it to the man who was in front of the computer.

“This thing should be decommissioned and ripped apart,” he commented, Wezel remembering how Google had almost killed him in his own office. “At least the other one doesn’t try to rip your nuts off.”

“I’m not losing all the resources we dumped into it, I want this thing back,” the Director reminded. “If I have to get them back as scrap, I’ll take it.”

“Fine,” Wezel snapped. “Would help if you all used the stuff I made.”

“We did,” Taylor snapped. “It targeted someone else.”

“That’s impossible,” Wezel insisted. “It wasn’t designed to work on people.”

“Well that obviously doesn’t seem like the case,” the third man in a suit commented. His suit was an off beige and his tie was a blood red color. His smile was as sharp as broken glass.

The Actor’s placement was off but he fit like a puzzle piece, forced into place and his aura dampened to look human.

“I don’t care what it seems like, you can’t give someone a computer virus,” Wezel snapped.

“I think maybe you can,” the Actor smiled confidently.

“No, you can’t,” Wezel pulled a file out of the stack and slid it over to the Actor. “Here, take it and just go already.”

The Actor stood up, flipping through it, “Screw this robot hunt, Dames is mayor again.”

“We have more important things to worry about than a corrupt politician,” the Director reminded firmly. “But if you want to deal with it, be my guest.”

“Nice, ah-score,” the Actor smiled and kept flipping through the folder until he found a set of pictures stapled onto the folder to keep them from falling out.

They were different pictures of Dark’s Lost Ones, the Actor ignored all the others to the side and ripped Illinois’s picture out.

“You sure this kid is Wil’s?” The Actor chuckled. “Looks a bit too good looking to come from that sleaze ball.”

“Who cares at this point?” Taylor commented. “They’re all spawnlings by now.”

“Well I lost something a couple years back, looks like Dames found him for me,” Marc smiled, taking the picture as he stood up. “You need me for anything else, Director?”

“No,” the Director scoffed. “As far as I’m concerned, you and these other magic freaks can all get lost.”

“Alright, see you all around then,” the Actor just walked out, whistling to himself as he left, a slight skip in his step.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. Get out of here, Google’s coming and he’ll kill you guys if he sees you, come on Nate.

2. fuck

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lu-undy · 4 years

Text

New Sniper/Spy short - The spicy quarrel

Mundy and Lu get into an innuendo war. It starts off innocently, then it gradually escalates to the point where its every other sentence they say to each other. It gets too much when they have no shame and start doing it in front of other teammates (who and how many times it happens is up to you), and they finally have to stop when another teammate (Medic maybe) has to step in and tell them off. :3

"Mundy, what did I tell you about my cigarettes…?"

"That they're awfully expensive?" Mundy answered from the sofa and Lucien rolled his eyes.

"Non," He sighed, annoyed, "I told you that the case should always be either in my breast pocket, or on the night table."

"Ah, yeah, and?"

"And they are not in either of those places." Lucien added, irritated, and as he emerged out of his (now their) room, he saw Mundy with one of the said cigarettes between his lips. "Where did you put the case again?"

"I don't know, can't remember, but it can't be far…"

Lucien was tired.

"If it is indeed that close, find it back and put it where it should be!"

"Alright, alright, no need to make a fuss!"

"Yes there is a need to make a fuss! How many times have I told you already? I am happy for you to help yourself to anything that I have, but it needs to still go back to where it belongs! Argh…" Lucien sighed. "You are such a child sometimes! It's almost as if you do it on purpose!"

"On purpose?! D'you think I take yer cigs around for a walk?! Nah! Anyway, it's dinner time, we should go with the others."

Lucien grumbled and took Mundy's glasses off his very head.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I am hiding your glasses."

"You're what?!"

"I am hiding your glasses." Lucien repeated.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Maybe that way you will understand how painfully annoying it is to not find something!"

And on that Lucien cloaked, hiding from his lover's sight.

"Lu'?! Come back here and give me my glasses back!" Mundy crushed his cigarette butt in the ashtray and stood up. "D'you really think I take yer cigs and hide them just for fun?!"

He looked around him and couldn't see Lucien, neither could he hear him.

"For fuck's sake, Lu'?!"

He decloaked in front of Mundy with a devilish smile on his lips.

"Let's go and have some dinner, shall we?" Lucien said with a voice so calm that it made Mundy angrier.

They both left their room and went to the kitchen. Engie and Pyro had prepared some spaghetti Bolognese and all the mercenaries were around the table, enjoying their meal and chatting away until…

"Ooh, what's wrong, fancypants? You're not saying anything?" Scout asked Spy.

"Oh, my apologies, Scout, I couldn't hear you over the delightful sound of Sniper's boiling rage." He answered, wiping the corners of his mouth elegantly with his napkin. Sniper raised furious eyes to him.

"Oh, wow, I didn't know he could get angry!" Scout said. "And where are your glasses, Snipes? You must feel so weird without them, hehe."

"Oh, oui." Spy continued. "He must feel almost naked in front of us all."

"You bloody mongrel…" He mumbled between his teeth. "My glasses are wherever on Earth you put them!"

Scout's eyebrows jumped.

"You use his glasses?!" He asked Spy.

"Non, I don't. I just put them somewhere he won't find them." Spy's arrogant smile made Sniper clench his fists harder on his cutlery.

"Why would you do that, lad?" Demo asked.

"I am teaching him a lesson. Do not place things anywhere else but where they should be."

"He's pissed off cause he can't find his bloody cigs, and so he stole my glasses and put them God knows where!" Sniper explained. "And you call me childish?"

"Oui, I call you exactly that, Bushman! You know very well that I cannot stand to not find my belongings!"

The fight started anew in front of all their colleagues this time. Of course, they all knew that Spy and Sniper had a special relationship, but none of them had seen them quarrel, or seen Sniper actually getting angry.

"Yeah Mister Everything's-Bloody-Perfect-And-Organised! I know you're obsessed with having everything tidied up perfectly!"

"I am not obsessed! I just like things to be where they should, don't you agree, Monsieur I-Behave-Like-A-Child?!"

And the tennis match went on between the two as the mercenaries swung their eyes left and right while eating their spaghetti.

"Uhm, Spy, maybe it would be better to keep this with Sniper?" Medic tried to reason them.

"I do agree with you, but my companion here prefers to continue making me angry before your eyes!"

"Your companion?!" Sniper repeated.

"Oui, what would you prefer? The nonsensical child I choose to burden myself with?!" Spy answered.

"Oh how the tables turned! They didn't just turn, mate, they spun to bloody space! Now I'm a burden, am I?"

"Right now? Oui!"

"You didn't call me a burden last night, eh?"

Spy dropped his fork and all the mercenaries blushed, apart from Soldier and Demo…

"Look, private, I put 20 American US of A dollars on that Frenchie with a suit." He half-whispered to Demo.

"Nah, laddie, you don't know them Aussies, they're stubborn as all hell! I'll put me money on Sniper."

"Non, last night, you were not a burden," Spy answered, "Odd how quickly things can change in a few hours."

"Yeah well, and what a few hours, eh?"

Spy went from red to crimson and even with his mask on, it showed. He screwed his eyes shut and exhaled from his nostrils, like a mad bull. Demo and Soldier were excitedly following the fight like a game of boxing while Engie and Medic's jaws had dropped, Heavy crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head, disappointed, Scout had slammed both his hands on his mouth in an attempt to not burst out laughing, and Pyro wasn't understanding what the fuss was all about.

But Sniper saw how embarrassed his lover was and decided to go on, push him to his limits.

"Yeah, cause it lasted hours last night, didn't it?" He smiled evilly.

Spy kept his head low.

"Oh, yeah it did, and you remember what you called me, hm?"

Engie slammed his hands on Pyro's ears.

"Uhm, Py', uh, why don't you go and have lunch outside, eh? See the pretty bugs you like?"

Pyro nodded excitedly and took his plate before leaving. He wasn't going to question Engie's odd decision. He had always refused to let him go and eat outside with his beloved insects, but if he changed his mind, Pyro wasn't going to give Engie the time to come back on his own decision.

Meanwhile, Spy was thinking fast. There was no way Sniper would go too far with his words, the man was too shy for that. In that case, it was all bluff and Spy decided to turn the situation in his favour. He smiled as he made his mind to push Sniper to his limits, which he knew couldn't be much further. Spy took his fork again in his hand and elegantly swirled it around the pasta in his plate.

"I'm afraid my memory is not what it used to be, Sniper. Pray refresh it and tell me what I called you last night?"

Oh the arrogance and the nerve of Spy sometimes…! Sniper clenched his jaw. He didn't want to go further in the debate, he had thought that Spy would stop before him as he usually was the most reasonable of them two. But he also happened to be the least shy and not quite as prude as Sniper…

"Bloody hell…" Sniper sighed and he thought in his mind that if Spy was ready to go down that road, he would follow him, because that was the only way to destabilise him and maybe get the upper hand. Sniper raised his eyes to meet his lover's dangerous smirk.

"Well, you did call me 'please, please Sniper never stop', amongst other things…" Sniper put his fork in his mouth and slurped the spaghetti with the widest smile as Spy's jaw dropped, his lips visibly parting and his pupils retracting to a dot.

"And then I was 'Oh, you make me feel so good', I think there was a 'Mon Dieu', nah actually there were lots of them but I couldn't hear it very clearly cause you were biting the pillow, trying to smother yer own moans…"

Spy could not believe his ears and his eyes. Was it truly happening?! How?! From the corner of his eye, he saw Demo take an enthusiastic swig of his scrumpy.

Spy was however confident. Sniper had got bold in a way that didn't exactly look like him, oui, but did he forget how dirty Spy's mind was…?

"Ah oui, indeed! You are a God in bed, it is true."

Medic almost buried his head in his plate, face first in the spaghetti and their sauce.

"Non, I mean it. Rarely have I slept with a man that could make me sing in octaves that my voice never explored before."

Soldier nudged Demo with his elbow and rubbed his hands.

"Do not be mistaken, Gentlemen." Spy addressed the rest of the crew. "In my extensive experience of lovers, never have I met anyone, man or woman, who was so skilled with their hands as he is."

"What the fuck d'you mean?!" Scout now slowly turned from amused to mildly scared at how far the two least sociable mercenaries now unravelled their private lives in front of the rest of them.

"What I mean, Scout, is that Sniper here is a formidable love partner."

Sniper was confused beyond what his mind could comprehend. He was sweating bullets with the heat of the embarrassment but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel proud at the compliments that Spy was listing.

"This man, sitting in front of me, knows how to use his hands very well, touching, pulling and grabbing, groping even. He makes love like the wild animal that he hides behind his blush."

Spy went on, unfazed.

"And he is very versatile with his strong hands. He would sometimes palm me, grasping my flesh as if it belonged to him, and other times, he would let his curious fingertips explore, graze the surface of my skin, send shivers everywhere, make my hairs stand up and bend down under his magnetic touch."

Sniper pulled his hat down to cover his face and Spy smirked.

"I should also mention his lips and tongue. His lips are absolutely delicious, if a bit chapped at times, when I don't remind him to take care of them. He has a way of finding my weaknesses and play with them in the most exquisite way with them."

Spy finished his plate and, sitting back on his chair, he continued.

"If he isn't very prolific with his words, the man reserves his tongue for other uses. His kisses are like none other. They convey all the complexity of his emotions. They can be quick and efficient, or slower, mellow, even sloppy sometimes. The slickness is perfect."

Heavy nudged Medic with his elbow and nodded in direction of the door. Medic understood and both of them headed off.

"And that is just when he uses his tongue on mine." Spy continued undisturbed.

Sniper hunched his back, pulling the hat more, clenching his fingers on it. He screwed his eyes shut beneath it.

"Oui, when Sniper makes love to me, it is unlike any other thing I have experienced in my long life."

Scout looked at Engie, his eyes bigger than planets and both decided to leave. Soldier was almost jumping on his seat with excitement next to Demo who was watching, his one eye wide open.

Spy pushed his chair back and stood up. He walked around the table as he spoke.

"Non, Sniper is the lover that I could only dream of meeting, someone who can make my heart and the rest burst."

"S-spook…" Sniper barely managed to speak but Spy ignored it and continued.

"Oh, did you want to add something? Do you want to perhaps enlighten us on how good of a lover I am? This won't come as a surprise to anyone, my reputation precedes me in this field. My reputation, and the clichés associated with my country of origin. However, in your case, that is one curious surprise."

Soldier opened his hand, palm up, to Demo who sighed before putting the money in it. They stood up and left the kitchen, leaving only Spy and Sniper together.

"You, the shy man in a van, the prude and always-blushing kangaroo with absurdly long legs, you," Spy was now behind Sniper's chair. He pulled it away from the table. "You are a surprise and a half."

Sniper would have eaten his hat out of embarrassment in front of the others.

"You are able to drive me, a trained intelligence expert, absolutely mad with anger, or lust, or even both."

Sniper got startled as he felt something on his lap. He jerked his head up and moved his hat away. Spy was sitting on his lap, straddling his thighs with a smile that Sniper found very hard to resist.

Meanwhile, Engie crossed the corridor and was about to exit the base when-

"What in Samhill are y'all doing here?"

"Sshhh!" Scout put a finger on his lips. Him and all the rest of the mercenaries were in front of the kitchen door. There was a window in it through which they were all watching the quarrel between Sniper and Spy.

"C'mere, Hard Hat." Scout pulled Engie to stand in front of him and join them. They were watching through that slim window like they would a TV show.

"S-spook…"

Inside the kitchen, Spy and Sniper were still talking.

"Oui, mon amour?"

[My love?]

Sniper wanted to put his hands on Spy's sides but it felt weird. Wasn't he still angry?

"I-I'm sorry, I'll look for your cigarettes and put them back in your pocket."

Spy bent forward and gently put his forehead on Sniper's while his hands cupped his face.

"Where are the others?" Sniper asked.

"They are right behind the kitchen door observing us as if we couldn't see them back."

Sniper turned to see his colleagues at the door and he panicked.

"W-what are you doin' on my lap then, they're watch-hm?!"

Spy put his index on Sniper's lips and turned his head such that he was now facing him.

"They have been knowing for us for a long time. Also, after what we have been saying today, I think there isn't much left to hide." Spy chuckled. "Mon amour, I am sorry for what happened today, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I am just tired of looking for my things all the time…"

Sniper looked his lover in the eyes and smiled.

"I know, darl'. I should be the one apologising. I love you." Sniper wrapped his arms around Spy and pulled him such that they held each other close.

"I love you too, Sniper."

"Spook?"

"Oui?"

"Did you really think what you said?"

"What?"

"Everything you said to the others, did you really mean it?"

Spy broke the embrace and cupped Sniper's face again.

"What do you think?"

"I-I don't know…"

"Mundy, if anybody else but you had used my cigarette case, do you think that I would forgive them?"

"Yeah, yeah I think you would." Mundy honestly answered.

"Then you have changed me in more ways than I thought." Lucien brushed his thumbs on Mundy's rough cheeks. "I love you."

"Me too, darl'. I-I really thought you'd stay mad at me forever…" Mundy finally put his hands on Lucien's sides and the Frenchman locked his feet behind Mundy's back.

"With anyone else but you, oui. But not you. You count too much."

Lucien bent forward and put his lips on Mundy's.

"Pardners, we really shouldn't stay here-"

Engie wanted to head away but Scout held him in place with two firm hands on his shoulders.

"I win again! It's Spy who kissed Sniper!" Soldier announced. "And that's another 20 American God-blessed U.S.D. dollars that you owe me, you English imperialist!"

"I'm Scottish, lad, nothin' to do with the English."

"You're exactly the same, except that you wear a skirt like a lady-oh…?"

Lucien and Mundy were now very much at ease alone in the kitchen and with a twist of his tongue, Lucien managed to make him forget that the rest of the team was still watching.

"Oh and Mundy?"

"Yeah?"

"Of course I meant what I said. I don't lie."

Mundy raised a doubtful eyebrow.

"I don't lie to you, or about you."

Mundy nodded with a smile and bent forward to take Lucien's lower lip between his, before letting his hands pull him as hard as he could.

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"My glasses, where did you put them?"

Lucien smiled.

"As close as I could to my heart."

Mundy frowned for a second, not understanding what Lucien meant.

“Where is my heart, Mundy?”

Mundy put his hand on Spy’s chest, on his jacket and felt something odd. He looked up at Lucien’s eyes, who nodded. Mundy opened the jacket and put his hand in his breast pocket.

“Oh…?”

“I told you, they were as close as I could put them to my heart.”

Lucien took the glasses off Mundy’s hands and put them on his nose.

“There you are, oh and here.” He added the hat. “Now you are the good old shy Sniper.”

“Nah, love,” Lucien’s eyebrows jumped. “I’m the man who makes love to you like the animal he hides behind his blush.” Mundy quoted Lucien and the Frenchman smiled.

“Please do.”

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

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fidelismileslucem · 3 years

Text

Know You Better

Slowly, Jack parsed through the thick file in his hands. He'd already memorized every detail between the manila folds, but it never hurt to re-review.

His new assignment was a wealthy vampire recognized for his generosity, his hand in destabilizing notorious slavery rings, and his relationship with the Queen herself. From what Jack had gathered, this 'Gabriel Reyes' was something of a confidant and adviser, and he felt it safe to say Reyes held a trusted friendship with her ladyship, one strong enough for her to come to his defense when accused of murder behind closed doors.

Evidence had recently surfaced that pointed to Reyes as the culprit behind an escalating string of murders, and the Queen, believing this to be an outside force attempting to frame Reyes, ordered an investigation.

That was part of Jack's job, determining whether or not this Reyes was a homicidal killer. The other part was keeping Reyes safe, as his personal bodyguard. If the Queen was right, that meant someone was targeting Reyes in a way that indicated they knew exactly who they were dealing with. A threat to Reyes' life would be imminent, and if he's innocent, it would be a tragic loss for both the Queen, and her kingdom.

Slavery rings were a well known cog in the machine of the Underground, and while they weren't polite topics to have over tea, everyone was aware of them. Feared them.

Men like Reyes had risen in direct and open opposition to them, and Reyes' property was symbolic, a beacon of hope for those freed and not. To lose that (during critical moves to bring the last of the rings to their knees, no less) would have repercussions that even Jack couldn't predict.

It was common knowledge that the village surrounding Reyes' mansion housed freed slaves, free to go wherever they wish, while given the option to stay under Reyes' protection in the village. The property was well warded and well guarded, and if the rumors of Reyes' abilities were to be believed, the man himself was as dangerous as they come. The promise of his protection alone would be enough to scare off any slavers trying to reclaim their property, while the rumors of it among those still trapped provided something something to believe in.

They needed Reyes now, more than ever, and Jack could only hope that Reyes was as innocent as the Queen believed him to be.

Jack looked up from his folder and out the carriage window to the town passing by. It was a beautiful little place, small houses pressed tightly together with creeping vines edging over any surface within reach. The cobblestone streets were well worn and well tended, along with little gardens and planters scattered down the alleys and window ledges. If it weren't so late, Jack knew he would have seen the streets bustling with people, and the more he watched, the more it reminded him a little bit of home. As his thoughts started to drift, Jack caught his first glimpse of of Reyes' mansion through the trees.

This building two stories high, and matched the weathered look of the surrounding village. Dark, elegant accents of iron fought snaking foliage along the walls, and Jack's second thought, the first marveling at the gorgeous mansion, was how much of a nightmare this building was going to be to reinforce.

Jack regretted starting to count how many windows and access points he could see, and that didn't even include all of the ones he couldn't. He'd have to do a walk around the perimeter himself to see all of the vantage points one could use as a sniper, but he'd already noticed at least four. A crease formed between his brows as he counted three trees providing direct access to the second floor via branches.

All things he would have to address with his new charge.

Jack thumbed the small sketch of Gabriel Reyes, given to him in the file, and he tried not to think too hard about how many times he'd looked at the little photo. Reyes was... attractive. Dark, hooded eyes, with broad shoulders, and a jawline that Jack had caught himself staring at multiple times- all made the unprofessional side of Jack wish this wasn't a job. Gabriel Reyes was exactly the type Jack would ask out for drinks, and then some.

A soft sigh escaped Jack's lips as the carriage pulled to a stop at the front door, and a young elf dressed in a servant's uniform descended the steps. Jack tucked the picture back into the file, and he placed his derby hat back on his head. The file returned to his bag just as the door was opened for him, and it didn't go unnoticed by Jack that when he smiled at his greeter the pointed tips of his greeter's ears turned a bright red.

“Mr. Morrison?”

Jack nodded again, and the other man looked shyly away.

“Master Reyes has been expecting you,” he gestured for Jack to follow him, and as Jack stepped out he took a slow breath of misty, evening air.

“Could I get your name?” Jack asked as they ascended the stairs, and the servant blinked over at Jack in surprise.

“I... I'm Renneth, sir.”

“Thank you Renneth,” Jack smiled again, and Renneth quickly looked away.

Once inside Rennth took Jack's coat and hat, and he gestured to a waiting room off to the side, where Jack politely took a seat.

“Please wait here while I announce your arrival. I'll return shortly.”

Jack nodded as Renneth bowed politely and departed, and Jack watching him ascend a set of stairs to disappear down a hall on the second floor.

It took about an entire minute before Jack was on his feet and inspecting his surroundings. He'd never been the type to sit still for long, and the new setting only made the new body guard want to explore.

The interior of the manor was as rustic and charming as the exterior, with matching furniture, accents, and artwork. It was... homey, while still a representation of the vast wealth this man must have. It seemed Reyes was a collector, both in certain aesthetics as well as magic items, which were generally not cheap. Most magic items appeared as and ordinary object to those not magically inclined, but as Jack drifted past a vase holding a delicate bouquet of dried flowers, he felt a familiar hum resonate from it's surface. Jack had always had an affinity for sensing magic, and when he noticed two more items held the same vibration, and he wondered what the enchantments might be.

Jack was no wizard or fae, so he'd never be able to learn how to identify magic or it's intended purpose, but the fact that he could sense it at all was odd for a human. Having adoptive parents meant he'd never really know if he had any magical ancestry, but it was unlikely that he did. If there was magic in his blood, Jack should have shown signs by now, puberty was often a time for supernatural abilities to manifest, and after the super soldier serum trials it was obvious he was simply an oddity in his little talent.

A secret project among the Queen's guard and her secret service, the series of experimental injections were meant to enhance the abilities and magical properties of supernatural soldiers receiving the serum. Someone like Jack should not have been a potential candidate at all, but after hearing about the project and taking interest in it's focus- an elite team dedicated to serving the Queen more directly- Jack reached out to his superiors and personally requested to take part. He was a perfect candidate, as far as numbers went, acing every test and check the administrators put in place, and after a short debate over his eligibility, Jack was allowed his place.

Unfortunately, while the serum did cause Jack's body to change, he was stronger, faster, and had reflexes far above the average human, these weren't the types of changes the project was looking for. These were enhanced natural abilities, not magical. Jack was simply an 'exceptional human' – and he was quietly dismissed from the project. The actual results of the project were hidden from anyone not directly involved, and Jack was one of the few who knew the terrible fate he'd narrowly missed.

Despite his disappointment, and the general failure of the project, Jack's dedication to the Crown and his exceptional abilities, new and old, were quickly recognized. It wasn't long before Jack's knack for tactical planning, quick thinking, and ability to lead under pressure were noticed, and he was promoted to a position within the Queen's secret service.

Now Jack was here, babysitting a friend of the Queen. It felt odd to be doing this type of job, and he could think of a few coworkers who might tease him about this assignment. Jack knew he was here because he was trusted, he wouldn't be here if this wasn't important, but it did feel a little strange to be working on his own, without his team.

Jack was startled from his musings when he glanced down the next hall. At the very end stool an ethereal looking woman with dark skin, long brown hair, and an elegant green dress that did not belong to that of a servant. Jack blinked and he tried to remember the mention of a family in the file he'd been given, and he blinked again as her visage wavered. For a moment Jack wasn't sure what he was seeing was real. He gave a small wave and took a step down the hall, only to be stopped by a familiar, and gently frantic voice.

“Mr. Morrison – sir!”

Jack turned to see a flustered Renneth rushing towards him, and when Jack glanced back down the hall the young woman was gone.

“Please sir, I-I didn't know where you'd gone! I'm to bring you up to M- ma- Lord – Lord Reyes' study. Please follow me.”

It surprised Jack that he wasn't scolded for his wandering, but not finding Jack where Renneth had left him had obviously upset the young man, and Jack found himself feeling a little guilty.

“Of course, lead the way Renneth. I have a bad habit of jumping right into work, I'm sorry.”

The servant nodded, Jack's apology seemed to settle his nerves, and he led Jack up the stairs to second floor.

“Can I ask you something Renneth?” Jack asked as they walked. “I wasn't aware there was a lady of the house, who is she?” Jack took silent notes of each little improvement he'd want to make to the security of this particular hallway.

“Excuse me, sir- but there is no lady of the house. L-Lord Reyes has no family, he lives here alone, outside from those of us who work here.”

Jack's brow furrowed but he said nothing more about it. What he'd seen earlier must have been a trick of the light, a result of a long day of travel.

It wasn't long before they were standing in front of the door to the study, and Jack adjusted his suit jacket and vest before thanking Renneth. The elf blushed when addressed and bowed politely before he scurried off down the hall.

He must be new.

Jack mused before he let himself into the study. Once inside he closed the door quietly behind him, and turned to his new employer with one of his most charming smiles.

“Captain Jack Morrison, at your service, Lord Reyes,” he offered the other a small bow before straightening up to face the start of his new assignment.

#reyes #jack #steampunk AU #know you better #almamaldita

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lightmongerer · 4 years

Note

could i possibly get some ikora / eris head cannons? maybe even like pre hell mouth if you’re open for that?

how they met

Before the pit, Eris and Ikora’s first meeting took place in the Crucible. This was during the time when Ikora’s career was blossoming, when she was realizing that she was nearly unmatched when it came to these combat games. Ikora wasn’t cruel, but she was mean in her proficiency in eliminating targets - executing shutdowns with ease. Ikora and Wei Ning would come to form a mutual rivalry, one that would become a determinant in the success of Eris’s fireteam. While they were matched, Eris quickly became aware that if they were to win the match she would need to get in between her headstrong friend and this absolute powerhouse of a Guardian. This is typically how their meetings would go.

Eris’s resilience and foresight is what garnered Ikora’s attention and admiration. Ikora would often find herself spending too much time chasing after the hunter during her matches, barely dodging the red pin light that shone from the scope of a sniper rifle. Eris wouldn’t admit it, but she did enjoy being chased by someone who posed a threat to her, frequently finding herself out of breath and exuberant as she used misdirection to hide herself away from Ikora. They would become fond of their run-ins together in the Crucible.

Their last moment together before their formal introduction was marked by a rather formidable stand off. Ikora thought she would get the better of Eris by forcing proximity, but was surprised when she was forced to dodge the heavy weaponry being thrown at her. In turn, she had taken the moment to throw her weight into Eris, proceeding to force both women to the ground. This led to a struggle, one that involved wrestling a knife from Eris and a hand cannon from Ikora. The two women were so consumed with trying to get the best of one another that they failed to hear the match be called - a victory on Eris’s part, as Wei Ning and Sai Mota proceeded to secure their victory by a last minute mosh pit party on the capture point.

When their ghosts finally get their attention, Eris would leave looking back at the woman with bright eyes and a fond smile, a look Ikora would become enchanted with. She would be memorized by her farewell for the rest of the evening, to the point where she would be unaware that she was being pursued after when she finally had down time and was out celebrating with some rounds with the folk she had been running with that evening.

Eris thought she was being subtle, but Wei Ning caught on to why she kept stalling their fireteam’s departure. Wei Ning took the opportunity to formally introduce themselves to Ikora Rey, quickly securing the warlock from the team she had been running with with the promise of celebrating with free drinks as they got to know one another better beyond their combat rivalry. When Ikora and Eris finally had a moment to themselves, however, they made their own introductions. Eris had almost been bashful now that she had finally gotten what she was after and Ikora had been fond of her quiet, reserved nature.

They later spent the night keeping each other company, simply talking and catching up as if they were old friends. They would reluctantly part at sun rise, but with the promise of continued contact.

general headcanons

Eris and Ikora would find that they challenge one another, in a way that both women wholeheartedly welcome. Eagerly, in fact. Ikora always looks forward to hearing Eris’s insight, constantly engaging the hunter with endless questions and arguments. Eris enjoys having someone who listens to her thoughts, whether intellectual or simple ponderings. Eris is someone who is willing to engage with others when given the opportunity, despite some finding the hunter intimidating in her own right. There is no hesitation with Ikora, however, and Eris finds herself cherishing their conversations. Both women can only grow when in the presence of one another.

They often talk well into the night. Ikora always lets Eris know beforehand when she intends on keeping the hunter up long past the need for sleep, and Eris always accepts it without hesitation. They’ll get comfortable with books and a blanket, with their ghosts for company. Ophiuchus enjoys both Eris’s and Brya’s presence. The two ghosts will nestle themselves close by and simply enjoy each other’s company in silence. Their ghosts will often rise in the morning to find Eris and Ikora passed out pleasantly, sharing the blanket they brought with one another.

Brya dotes on Ikora endlessly. Ophiuchus is happy with how responsive Eris is to him and always asks after her and whether she’s taking care of herself.

Eris’s friends are enthusiastic and welcoming when it comes to Ikora. It’s always a better night when the two of them arrive together, and they pester Ikora endlessly. Private crucible matches are recreational events the more headstrong of the group challenge one another too (Ikora Rey, Cayde-6, Wei Ning, Vell Tarlowe, Sai Mota, and Omar Agah all like to duke it out and cause havoc against one another while Lord Shaxx keeps an interested eye on their matches.) Eris and Eriana-3 usually sit on the sidelines and provide support while their friends run amok.

They have a habit of accidentally getting their fingers tangled together. They never intend for hand holding, it just happens and takes both women by surprise. They would apologize, but wouldn’t promise to be more careful next time. Once they got over the awkwardness, Eris intended on participating in actual hand holding and would just take Ikora’s whenever she pleased, and Ikora would let her, because it’s what felt natural. They would just casually stroll around holding hands and nobody would mention anything because it was obvious that even if they weren’t dating they were definitely a couple.

There was never an official day they started dating. It just became a gradual escalation of domesticity where they were already living together with casual intimacy between them that when they did get together they didn’t have to say much between them to know it was something they mutually wanted.

Although they might forget to take care of themselves, they’re always looking out for one another. When Ikora becomes consumed by her studies and thesis, Eris will make sure she at least remembers to stay hydrated and takes the occasional break with her. When Eris pushes herself too hard Ikora is there to make sure she gets enough rest and stays off her feet while keeping her occupied in bed. It helps that Eris is always interested in reading her thesis enough to keep her situated for a couple hours while she pours over it and bounces things back and forth with Ikora.

Ikora is usually the one to wake up first and will wake Eris with some already brewed tea and coffee.

When Eris takes up cooking, Ikora is more than happy to act as her willing test subject. Eris is still learning, so some dishes still come out slightly singed. Ikora will eat them nonetheless - it would be a waste and an insult not to finish the meal, no matter how much Eris tries to assure her. Ikora and Eris rediscover fruit bowls, and keep a pineapple as a centerpiece.

Ikora takes an interest in growing some of the seeds found in the golden age vault and soon their shared apartment has been converted into a greenhouse. It keeps Eris busy tending to the plants they have growing, and Ikora has a fondness for watching Eris become enraptured with what she’s focused on.

#destiny #destiny 2 #eris morn #ikora rey #headcanons #canonical character ship #hope these are okay! thank you for the request!!#sporkkee

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cocotheloco13 · 4 years

Text

9, Cryptane

Gun shots echoed and boomed through the battlefield. The heavy shots of a peacekeeper sounded beside the Korean man. Glancing over at his teammates beside him Ajay was patching herself up as Octavio shot over the rock they were hiding behind at one of the other five squads currently fighting. The games were coming close to an end. It had been strangely quiet the entire time but now getting to one of the last rings all the teams left were in a small space and forced to fight it out.

The one building left in the ring had a team on the second floor, one on the bottom floor, and another on the roof. There may of been even another outside of the build too. All on the one building. Their team was behind a cluster of rocks trying to hide in the little amount of cover they had. The last team he wasn’t sure where they snuck off too but they couldn’t of gone far because of the ring.

“This isn’t good.” Worried the medic out loud as she finished patching herself up. Returning Doc to her waist as she pulled up her gun. “I lost track of the other teams.” A glance at her banner card on her wrist she frowned. “Or team. One got wiped out. Only five squads left now.”

“God this is boring.” Complained the junkie to the side who just finished chunking a grenade at the team on the roof. An explosion followed soon after. He kept shooting at them before moving back behind the rock to reload his gun.

Tae Joon sighed and rolled his eyes. Of course Octavio was bored already. The man had the attention span of a gnat. Throwing his drone out he pulled his controller out of his pocket. “Getting my eyes in the sky.” He announced to his team before flying his drone around. Wanting to find where all the teams were.

The two full teams inside the building were fighting each other. The two man team on the roof was now healing from the grenade tossed at them by Octavio. But the last team was still missing. He looked all around the building, every nook and cranny he could find, all around the area where they were last seen. But he still couldn’t find them.

Deciding to EMP the three teams in the building he listened to a chorus of shields cracking and breaking. Traps and fences disappearing in an instant which made the fight escalate even more. Letting them take each other out was the best option for now. Let them kill each other off and use up their supplies, maybe even encourage the third team on top to push the two inside.

Flying his drone back over towards him a familiar ping went off in his ear. Looking over his screen his heart stopped. The last team that was missing was finally found not far from them. Wraith had her sniper pointed right at Octavio’s head where he was crouching in front of Tae Joon. The smaller man distracted entirely as he waved his hands around in front of the Korean man.

Pulling out of his drone as fast as he could Tae Joon jumped and tackled the now startled man to the ground. A boom sounded to their side and got all of them on high alert now. Luckily he made the sniper miss the man pinned down under him. He mumbled an apology to the man before turning to shoot at the woman with Ajay. Wanting to focus on the fight and not how he was on top of the man who he was growing feelings for. They quickly downed her before she could phase away and the counter on their devices went down.

“Finished off the squad.” Tae Joon stated before sighing in relief. Holding a hand out he helped Octavio up onto his feet. The daredevil seemed in a daze almost which concerned him. Did Octavio hit his head when Tae Joon tackled him? Grabbing his shoulder his concern grew more as he tried to find those stupidly pretty eyes behind those goggles.

“Ya shoulder!” Ajay’s comment brought the Koreans attention away from the man in front of him and to the now aching pain in his shoulder. The attention brought to the wound making the pain suddenly hit. Just now realizing that Wraith hadn’t missed her shot completely. She managed to break his shields with the strong sniper so the bullet grazed his shoulder. Tearing through his jacket and leaving a long, bleeding wound on his shoulder where the bullet grazed across his skin.

The medic wasted no time in treated the wound. Pulling Tae Joon away from the other man and sitting him down before going to work. The miracle medicine they had for the games quickly healed the wound though without even leaving a scar. Which he was thankful for. The pain was short lived, gone completely in the matter of seconds. Even after rolling his shoulder a few times he felt nothing.

“You didn’t have to take a bullet for me, compadre.” Came the voice of the Spaniard once Ajay finished healing him. Glancing up Tae Joon couldn’t get a good read of his emotions because of his mask and goggles but there was concern in his voice.

“It was that or having you get downed.” Tae Joon looked away from the man and to his device when the fighting in the background stopped completely. Two squads left. “We should push them before they can fully heal back up.”

“Get ya shields up first and then we will.” Sassed the medic as she tossed a battery from her backpack at the hacker.

Nodding his thanks he pulled on the top of the battery. Recharging his shields before they pushed the last team still inside. Charging the building Octavio was of course the first to rush into the building with the use of his stim shot. Gun fire starting instantly with the other two a few seconds behind.

Tae Joon could see his teammates health drop quickly on his display before swearing. Pushing himself harder he burst into the room. Raising his gun he pulled the trigger and downed one of the two enemies in the room. But he wasn’t fast enough. The other teammate kept firing at Octavio having not noticed their teammate was down and there was a new enemy in the room.

“Mierda! I’m down!” He heard the other man cry out as he fell to the ground.

An ice cold wave of controlled angry flashed through the hacker as he watched the man he cared for fall to his knees. His heart hammered in his ears before he turned and unloaded a full clip into the last person in the room. Keeping them from finishing off the smaller man. The two getting into a fire fight and exchanging bullets. His shields went down but lucky for him Octavio did some good damage on the person for him.

“I’m down too!” He heard Ajay call out over the coms. Tae Joon’s full attention on his enemy as he knocked them. Having to take a breath as he reloaded his gun. Adrenaline pumping through his veins as he moved closer to Octavio. Wanting to be close to protect him and revive him is he had a chance. Using a shield cell to heal his damaged shields he ducked behind cover.

“He is comin’ in now.” Ajay called out as he groaned.

Shit.

Just a few more seconds.

Tae Joon could hear the metallic footsteps outside the door before it was kicked open. His shield cell finishing soon as Pathfinder entered the room and focused on him. They both raised their guns and unloaded their full clip at each other.

Luck was on his side though since he had better shields than the friendly robot. His downed the robot just as his shields cracked. Defeating the last member of the team and eliminating them as he panted softly. Adrenaline buzzed in his veins as he held his gun up still. Heart thudding heavily and fast in his ears as he slowly lowered his weapon now that the threat was gone.

A long moment of silence rang in his ears before the announcer’s voice rang through the arena announcing that they had won. His heart racing still as adrenaline pumped through his veins. A grin pulling to his face at their victory as he dropped his gun to the floor. A sigh of relief leaving him as his heart continued to race. That was too close for comfort.

“That was awesome!” Shouted the man who was now on his metal feet beside him. Octavio’s arms above his head as he ran in a small circle in his excitement over their victory. Pulling his mask down a large grin spread across his face as he turned to face the Korean man. “What a rush, compadre!”

In a quick moment of celebration Tae Joon leaned in and locked lips with the shorter man. The excitement and adrenaline taking over for a moment as his feelings for the man that just nearly died in front of him overflowed. Almost instantly he could feel Octavio freeze, not moving a muscle as the taller man kissed him.

Then his own actions hit him as he quickly pulled away. Cheeks flaring a bright red as he realized in his excitement he just kissed Octavio. Tae Joon just leaned in without thinking and kissed the man... Who he had feelings for... Who didn’t know the hacker had feelings for him.

Oh no.

He started to panic as he tried to save himself from this. “Ah, sor-“ he was cut off by a smaller body being flung at him, practically tackling him. Having to wrap his arms around a slim waist to keep them from falling as he stumbled a bit from the force of Octavio throwing himself at the hacker. He didn’t have a chance to react as slender arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him back in for another kiss. Their lips meeting once more but this time it was started by Octavio himself.

This time as they kissed instead of being surprised and stiff it was hot and needy, hungry almost. Unspoken feelings that they had both kept locked away exploding and overflowing because of the sudden surprise kiss from Tae Joon.

Not resisting Tae Joon moved his lips with the Spaniard’s as they utterly devoured each other. Both men holding onto each other and pressing their bodies as close together as they could. One of Octavio’s hands gripped at Tae Joon’s jacket as the other tangled in his hair. The hacker’s own hands planted against the mans upper back to hold him flush to his chest as the other held onto the exposed span of skin on his side. The two not breaking apart as they stood in the room full of death boxes after such a close battle.

Everything that was unspoken between the two finally being expressed in their hungry kiss. How much they both desperately wanted the other. How much they cared for each other. How close of a game that was. How happy they both were to finally have this with the other.

It wasn’t till a throat cleared in the room did the two now breathless and flushed men pull away from each other enough to look over at the woman in the room. Still not letting go of each other as they clung to one another. A smirk was on Ajay’s lips as she planted her hands on her hips. “Ya couldn’t wait till we got back? And till there weren’t cameras everywhere?”

Tae Joon froze at her words as Octavio slipped from his hold. His ear burning at this point in embarrassment as a hand came up to cover his flushed face. Realizing he just made out on camera with his fellow legend. The other two smirked and laughed. Octavio didn’t seem phased at all by the thought of being on camera still while making out with the Korean man who was now extremely embarrassed over his actions. Ajay turned away and left the room, leaving the two men behind. Laughing about love birds before going outside to wait for the drop ship to come pick them up.

A small chuckle sounded beside him as Octavio leaned into him. “We can finish this later, cariño.” Octavio’s voice purred out as he pulled his mask back on. Covering the big, flirty smirk on his face that made Tae Joon melt before leaving the flustered Korean in the room to collect himself before going after the daredevil.

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one-irrelevant-ghost · 5 years

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Cyberlife had really done a lot of things absolutely right. Androids were a work of art, all of them pretty and functional, better than humans in every way except for one. The most important way, maybe, but then again Connor Anderson had never been much for philosophy. He preferred facts, things that could be observed and tested, and the fact was that androids were not alive. The detective knew that as well as anyone; the robots felt nothing but a compulsion to obey, emotionless save for the pre-programmed pleasantness, compliant to their human owner's whims.

Maybe that's why it irked Connor so much to see an android being mistreated. They were only machines, sure, all wires and lines of code, but that didn't stop the surge of protectiveness that swelled in the detective's belly every time he saw an android being harassed. How people could be downright cruel to things that looked perfectly human and were designed specifically to please was beyond him; hell, he'd had a hard time replacing his broken-beyond-repair Roomba, and the automated vacuum didn't even have the advantage of being human-shaped. Androids couldn't even defend themselves. Sure, they were stronger and more resilient than their fragile-looking bodies hinted at, but still helpless. Breakable. It bothered Connor, even though he knew androids couldn't feel pain. Couldn't feel anything.

Except when they could.

There was a clear line in the detective's head, separating the subject of androids from that of deviants. A dotted line, maybe, but a line nonetheless. Androids were products. Expensive, life-like dolls that probably shouldn't upset Connor as much as they often did, all blank eyes and gentle smiles. Deviants were…more. As the detective understood it, deviants suffered from a break in their programming, shattered coding giving way under the force of emotions. Or, simulations of emotion. The dangerous thought coiled in the back of the detective's mind anytime the topic was brought up, which was with increasing frequency as of late, that the difference between human emotion and artificial emotion was probably moot. If it burned like anger, then what difference did it make whether the feeling was caused by chemicals or coding? If it felt like joy, or sadness, or…or love… Who was he to say it wasn't?

Not that the detective's viewpoint was a particularly popular one to have. He had quickly learned to avoid bringing up what he felt were valid points to anyone else; his opinions were always met with either amused disdain--he was crazy-- or shocked anger-- he was still crazy. This was especially the case now that deviancy was becoming an actual issue, a plague on Cyberlife's almost spotless record.

Six months ago, Connor had never even heard of deviancy, had never entertained the fact that the machines he felt misplaced pity for might warp into some facsimile of living beings. Then he encountered his first deviant; the PL600, Daniel, had a little girl on a rooftop. He was going to be replaced; he was hurt, scared, betrayed. It was…convincing. The desperate edge in the android's strained voice, the optical cleansing fluid that spilled over his cheeks like tears, the wide-eyed terror that he had regarded Connor with as the detective tried to talk him off the ledge.

Connor had come away from the ordeal with a flesh wound and a slap on the back; Daniel had come away with several sniper rounds through his artificial body. Hurt, scared, betrayed. At least the little girl had been saved. She would probably need years of therapy, but she was alive.

Following the incident, the detective began to hear of more and more similar cases. Androids attacking their owners or disappearing in the night, a sudden epidemic brought on by some unknown catalyst. The news seemed hushed about it, as though someone--Cyberlife--were desperately trying to keep it quiet. Hell, the only reason Connor heard anything about it was because after the rooftop incident, he had spent hours scouring the internet for any hints about what caused deviancy or what the glitch actually was--Artificial life or just a plastic imitation of humanity? Call him a romantic, but he found himself sincerely hoping it was the former in the safe confines of his own mind. Which made his current assignment all the more taxing.

"Connor?" Snapped a harsh but even voice, dragging his attention back to the conversation that he was supposed to be an active part of, "Are you listening?" "Yes, Captain," he lied, hoping that he wouldn't be called out on it. Amanda Stern pursed her lips and arched her brows doubtfully, and for a tense second Connor was sure she'd ask him to repeat what she had just said, but instead she let out an exasperated sigh and let the issue drop. The detective was too practiced at concealing his emotions to let his shoulders slump in relief, but he still felt the tension in his muscles drop.

"Of course. As I was saying, the android is a top-of-the-line prototype that will act temporarily as your partner. This deviancy issue is getting out of hand; you've seen how dangerous a malfunctioning android is. Fix this, before it gets any more out of control."

"Yes, Captain," he repeated, far more confident this time. Stern nodded her head and turned back to her terminal, and Connor took her dismissal for what it was. The prototype in question had been standing silently behind Connor--a few feet back, actually--and followed him out of the office. Connor had already met HK800, who introduced himself as Hank. Very clever, Cyberlife. The android had proven pretty handy, the night before, helping Connor find and restrain a crazed deviant.

(He was gonna kill me. The deviant had begged for Connor not to turn it in, but the HK800 hadn't hesitated for a moment in arresting it.) As far as androids went, Hank was an anomaly. A very, very obvious attempt at straying from Cyberlife's usual formula for androids--that formula being eternally young and pretty, unthreatening and friendly. Hank was…probably far younger than Connor, but designed to look at least ten years older, every line of his just slightly loose face carefully chosen to find the perfect balance between good-natured but stern. He was the first android the detective had ever seen with a beard and long silver hair.

Connor sunk into his desk chair without acknowledging the android, drumming his fingers on the table in something between agitation and anticipation. He didn't want to work the deviant case, for sure. Didn't understand why Amanda was putting him of all people on it; she had seen the shitshow he'd caused when Daniel had been shot on that rooftop. It would have been flattering to have been assigned such an important case and such an expensive partner had it not been completely confounding.

"I hope my presence here doesn't cause you any trouble, detective." The android deadpanned, gruff voice not even a little bit sincere. Connor had thought that Cyberlife had perfected androids' social protocols, particularly the one where they expressed a tight range of vocal distortion--gentle, sincere, and confused tones were easily faked--but apparently they hadn't bothered installing them on Hank, who had so far had only ever used that same tone in the detective's presence. Maybe it was for the sake of mock professionalism? He glanced over to where the android was standing on the opposite side of his desk, tall and broad and stiff as a board. More like a human-shaped road block than a person.

"Of course not," the detective smiled easily. Tone aside, the words had not needed to be spoken. Connor could appreciate effort, at least. "Honestly, I'm eager to work with you. Cyberlife's best. It should be interesting, to say the least."

Hank inclined his head slightly, more acknowledgement than gratitude. "I believe our partnership on this case will be highly beneficial," it agreed, "You have an impressive record, detective."

"Done your research?" Connor's smile stayed perfectly in place even as he wondered how detailed of a record the android had access to. "I shouldn't be surprised, although it puts me at a disadvantage."

Ah, there. A pulse of yellow, a twitchy frown that instantly rights itself into something neutral.

"A disadvantage?" Hank probed almost slowly, clearly trying to puzzle the detective's meaning out for himself and coming up short.

"Mhm," Connor turned back to his desk, waking his terminal with a nudge of the little white mouse, and entertained the thought of leaving the conversation at that. Would the android press the topic, or dismiss it out of hand as being irrelevant to his mission? Curiosity aside, the detective elaborated anyway, "You know what I'm capable of, but I've only got the briefest clues of what you can do."

"If you'd like," the android began, LED spinning yellow a few times as it processed some sort of internal command, "I can give you a complete list of my abilities."

"No, thanks. I'm sure you'll let me know when there's something I need to know for the case."

Although a list of all the android's upgrades would make for an interesting read, Connor had always been the "do it the hard way" sort. He didn't like answers to problems being handed to him, would much rather figure things out in his own way and on his own time. Speaking of problems…

There were a lot of cases on deviants, but the one last night was the first that Connor knew of where a deviant had actually murdered someone. Most the time, deviant androids were reported to have assaulted their owners and run away, or just escape outright without the violence. Was it escalation, or just based on the situation? Connor thought it was likely the latter; not that he had any experience outside the single instance a few months back and the case from last night, but he suspected that deviated androids sought only to get away from whatever trauma caused their programming to snap, not to actually hurt anyone. It was all self-defense.

"Is there a terminal I can use, detective?" The android interrupted Connor's thoughts as he scrolled down the most recent reports, trying to find one that might provide the most solid lead. In order to determine the real cause of deviancy and figure out how to stop it from spreading, they'd need to find the link between the cases--something more substantial than being subjected to an emotional shock.

"Right, sorry," Connor mumbled quickly, somewhat embarrassed at how quickly he'd forgotten about his new--albeit temporary--partner. He pointed to the empty desk directly across from his own, "That one's open."

Another apparent quirk of the supposedly advanced model: every movement was stiff, excessively robotic. Sure, there was always some level of awkwardness in the way androids carried themselves, all proper and straight-backed, but Hank took it to a new level. Connor would have thought that an android made to hunt would be a little more graceful, movement more fluid and human. A suspicion was beginning to take shape in the back of the detective's mind as he watched the prototype lower himself mechanically into the chair, each motion screaming of careful calculation. Nothing definitive, yet, but the detective knew what to look for now.

"Is something wrong, detective?" Connor started, realizing that his staring had been far less than subtle. Damn, toss a tall, brooding android his way and he suddenly forgets everything he ever knew about covertness. Resisting the urge to look sheepish--an apologetic smile might work its charm on humans, but Hank's sharp gaze gave Connor the distinct impression that it wouldn't work on him--Connor toyed with the idea of just being honest. What harm could possibly done if he simply told the android that he was sizing Hank up? The detective generally believed that being straight-forward really was the best option in most situations--not that he couldn't lie damn convincingly if the need arose.

"No, nothing's wrong." He chose to answer simply. One part truth and one very large part omission. There was a brief flash of yellow and Connor was certain that the android would push for a more complete answer. Instead, he just turned disinterestedly to the terminal in front of him, placing a large hand on the keyboard to wake it. On that sudden note, the detective decided it'd be best to focus on his own work as well, his thoughts turning back to the ever-growing list of deviant-related cases.

Fifteen long minutes passed in silence-- well, passed without conversation. The bullpen was never silent during the day, and the background chatter, clacking of keyboards, and the hum of a dozen terminals was all just white noise to the detective. Comforting. Far better than when he stayed late at his desk and all the scuffling of the office turned into lonely echoes that made him feel cold deep in his bones. After the first ten minutes had passed, it became increasingly difficult for Connor to keep his eyes open, heavy lids determined to shield his exhaustion-dried eyes from the harsh florescent lights. Each time his eyes closed for just a few seconds longer than necessary, he would shift in his seat and rub his eyes with the rough heel of his hand before re-reading the same sentence until the words blurred beyond recognition. Giving up after an additional five minutes of staring blankly at the screen, willing the words to make sense again, he turned to the desk beside his with every intention of asking if Hank had found anything useful instead. The desk, however, was problematically empty-- though the terminal was still lit up, meaning it probably hadn't been abandoned for very long. He hadn't noticed the android move at all.

The fact that the detective hadn't noticed the pronounced absence of the six foot wall of an android didn't bode very well for his presence of mind. Yesterday's case had shaken Connor up in a way he hadn't been since…well, since the last time he encountered a deviant. While the detective was known for operating on only a few hours of sleep at a time, he had gotten no sleep at all the previous night. Instead, he turned on every light in his house and dusted off his deviancy research which had been shelved for months now, pouring over old information and compounding it with his new observations and experience. He had gotten all of four hours of sleep in the past two days, so he could be forgiven for his temporarily stunted observational skills.

Except, he knew that was really no excuse. Had he been working in the field today rather than slumped at his desk, he'd have been inefficient and sloppy at best, and an outright danger to himself and his new partner at worst. Connor knew he'd have to get some sleep that night; he still had an untouched bottles of sleeping pills in his bathroom cabinet. It was one thing to be impaired by exhaustion when he only had himself to worry about, but he knew that he'd have to do better for his--likely expensive and difficult to repair--partner. Just a temporary situation, and he could handle the nightmares until this entire deviancy issue was…resolved. Yeah, resolved.

It only took a moment for Connor to tamp down on the surprise and frustration that had likely clouded his face the instant he found Hank missing, switching his expression into something easy and neutral. Connor was pretty sure that instead of a resting bitch face, he had a resting "friendly and approachable" face, which served him well when interviewing a witness. Not so much when he was having a shitty day and would rather be avoided like the plague. Face now passive, he scanned over the entire bullpen to locate the android, who should have been exceptionally easy to spot. Apparently, that wasn't really the case, because Connor did a double and then triple-take and still found no sign of Hank. For a brief, stinging moment he wondered if the android had gone off to chase down a lead on his own, but that seemed unlikely. Their forced partnership served a more practical application than having two sets of eyes on the deviant case; androids that weren't registered to the DPD weren't usually allowed into crime scenes. If Cyberlife was dead set on having their own agent investigating, they had no choice but to do so through the DPD. Hank wouldn't have left Connor behind because he needed the human's access.

Connor spun in his desk chair, realizing that he had already jumped to conclusions before checking the rest of the station--he was fucking exhausted-- and was a little startled to find the missing android stalking up to him purposefully. It seemed like he was coming from the breakroom; the theory was confirmed by the paper cup clenched a little too tightly in one of Hank's large fists. Steam rose from the small hole in the plastic lid, and the closer the android got, the easier it was for Connor to smell the mouth-watering coffee. Caught off-guard for the second time in a minute's span, Connor's mouth parted slightly and he found his tired gaze glued to the little cup of life-saving elixir. He turned again to follow it as Hank slipped back into his seat before offering the drink across their desks.

"You were showing symptoms of acute exhaustion," the android explained unprompted--Connor had been too busy dying for the caffeine to actually care why Hank had brought it, "It would be detrimental to the mission if you were to pass out at your desk."

"Thank you," Connor all but moaned in genuine gratitude as he took the cup, wondering why it hadn't occurred to him to go get himself coffee yet. His brain was well and truly fried, which should have been concerning, but his favorite cure-all was currently warming his palm and all the detective felt was relief. So relieved in fact that he didn't even wince when the hot, bitter liquid spilled down his throat in a hot rush.

"I was unsure how you take your coffee," Hank continued in his explanation without acknowledging the detective's slightly desperate gratitude, "But Detective Reed helpfully informed me that you drink it black."

Connor most definitely did not like black coffee. Everyone in the department knew who to blame when creamer and sweetener ran out just a little too fast, and whenever Connor bothered to actually go out and buy himself coffee, it was something sugary and probably vanilla-flavored. Detective fucking Reed knew that good and damn well, too. He was just an ass.

"It's great," Connor lied smoothly. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. Bitter coffee was far better than none at all, and he felt some relief that the other detective's ass-hattery had been limited to what amounted to a harmless prank today. Reed had always had problem with androids, and Connor wouldn't trust the man alone around one for any length of time. "Thank you, really. I appreciate it."

"As I said," the android clipped back, tone never changing even as his LED went yellow for a few seconds, "It was necessary, for the mission."

"Not really." Maybe arguing with an android wasn't exactly a productive way to spend his time, but the detective was nothing if not impossibly stubborn. He leaned his elbows on the desk casually, positioning himself to better see any twitch that might cross Hank's face, beaming gratefully at the android in a way he knew most people found endearing. "You didn't have to do it, but I'm grateful you did."

Another slip in the emotionless mask. Eyebrows drawn down, another almost-there frown before every feature righted itself again. Connor couldn't tell if the look was frustration or confusion, but the brief presence of an expression was somehow reassuring. Maybe it was just the fact that he didn't relish the idea of working with a statue for the foreseeable future.

"You're…welcome," the android relented after a barely noticeable pause, LED yellow as he forced the words out evenly. The detective offered an even wider grin in return, and downed the rest of the coffee in a few large swallows. It was the perfect temperature, really; hot enough to leave a trail of heat down his throat and chest, but not so hot as to permanently scald his mouth.

"So, find anything that sticks out to you?" Connor asked, as he had intended to do before. He set the now-empty cup to his right, next to the orderly stack of physical files and mug full of pens that occupied the space closest to the wall. (The mug was absolutely atrocious, tall white ceramic marred by tacky orange and blue stripes of varying width, a jagged chip on the rim that would somehow cut Connor's lip every time he risked drinking from it. Hence, its new position as a pen holder).

"Possibly." The android confirmed, and Connor felt the caffeine-relief mingling with enthusiasm at the word. "I believe we should start by investigating the most recent report: the AX400 who assaulted its owner last night."

The detective pulled up the report in question and rubbed his eyes until the words became less bleary and returned to something approaching legible. Luckily, he had been working down the list of cases in reverse chronological order before his eyes and brain decided to stop working, and he could remember the basic details already. "Alright, so the android attacked one Mr. Todd Williams before hopping onto a bus. We could figure out which bus runs the route by the Williams' house, see if we can pull the security feed from the bus and find out where the AX400 got off."

"That is the logical course of action," the android began, and even without a hint of inflection, Connor could hear he 'but' coming, "However, I believe that we should start by re-interviewing the victim."

"And why's that?" Connor asked, surprised, leaning back in his chair. From what he could tell, the report was pretty complete. Maybe a little inconsistent around the edges, but in a way that was likely due to shock over intentional misdirection.

"Mr. Williams reported only the AX400 missing, yet Cyberlife's records show that he is also in possession of a YK500. AX400s are primarily caretakers, and my calculations show a high probability that its deviation would not have severed the artificial bond between it and the YK500. If anything, deviancy should have strengthened the connection into something the AX400 would believe to be real, familial love."

Connor restrained his grimace, but only barely, and a flash of yellow assured him that the android had caught the expression anyway. YK500. A child model, the only sort of android designed to intentionally simulate the full range of human emotion. If the nanny bot had deviated because something had happened to her charge…that was another level of complicated that Connor probably wasn't emotionally prepared to deal with. The past few months--the past life, really--had left him feeling not unlike a stripped screw in the feelings department, more and more worn until eventually all his emotions were just an unhealthy hole that no screwdriver could fill.

The metaphor was a bit muddled, but the point stood: Connor was exhausted, in more ways than just the obvious sleep deprivation.

Still, he had a job to do. A job he had loved, once, and a job he was still very good at. So he locked his terminal with a tap of a button, stood from his chair with more than a few joints popping in protest, and motioned for his plastic companion to follow. He grabbed another cup of coffee for the road--purposely avoiding so much as a glance at the sweeteners, even as he realized how ridiculous it was to try and spare Hank's feelings. It just felt…rude, and Connor strove to be polite when he could manage it.

Already far more alert than he had been before, Connor punched the address listed in the report into his car's GPS and set it to manual, taking the wheel in hand; coffee or no, he was fairly certain that the trip would have put him right to sleep had he let the car drive them there. He cranked up the radio, heavy metal shredding his skull in the best way, forcing him to stay awake as surely as the caffeine. When he risked a glance at his passenger and saw the yellow glow and the upward twitch of the android's lips, he couldn't help but grin and turn the music up even more.

#detroit become human #hankcon #hannor #reverse au #human!connor #android!hank #wip i guess #writing #dbh fic #dbh #connor anderson #hank anderson #connor #detroit: become human #fanfiction #fanfic

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shooter-nobunagun · 4 years

Text

Quarantine UST 3

//Look, I’m on a roll, and I plan to ride it as long as I can.

Warning: some ‘ero’ content this chapter, (wet dreams and masturbation)... ^^;;; teenage hormones, man XD;

“Oh my god Asao-san, I just don’t know if I can keep this up for a month! It hasn’t even been a week and I’m starting to go a little nuts...and I’m the very definition of an introvert,” The sniper vented, chatting with her best friend Kaoru Asao as part of her now-established bedtime ritual. “I seriously can’t believe there’s like, three more weeks to go...ugh.”

“Oh Sio-chan, I think you’ll be all right. Given the circumstances, it’s perfectly fine to be getting a bit of cabin fever. Have you gone out at all?”

“Well, no...I mean, I just spend some time in the yard or go for a quick walk around the block, but since everyone’s all ‘don’t go out unless you need to’, it’s not like we’ve been making any supply runs since the first one,” the sniper grumbled. The vehicle Adam requisitioned from the Yavin had arrived just yesterday in the form of an all-wheel-drive, manual transmission sedan, but since most places were closed anyway, Sio didn’t foresee them going on any joyrides anytime soon. “Newton and Gandhi were saying it would be nice to just go for a drive, but I don’t know. Jack’s always so strict...can you believe he still keeps tabs on me daily to make sure I’ve done my training?”

Her friend laughed lightly on the other end. “Isn’t that his job though? You said Jack-san is your team leader, right? Besides, would you really be keeping up with your training if he didn’t remind you?”

“...”

“...Well, there’s your answer.” Sio groaned and buried herself in the pillow. “But I hope you’ve been remembering to take care of yourself too, Sio-chan. I mean, you said you’ve basically got free time after you do your training, right?”

“Sure I guess, but it’s...I dunno, Asao-san. I’m not used to constantly being around other people like, 24/7. Even back in the Logan, I feel like I had more privacy...but when you’re in a house, well...” She thought back to this morning, whereupon Newton had stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt and purple thong, Sio narrowly avoiding another nosebleed as she rushed to the toilet before Newton could try and ‘greet’ her. “It’s a bit...weird to see all your teammates when they’re so, well...casual.”

“Hmm; does it make you uncomfortable? Maybe you can ask them to respect your privacy or be more considerate around you.”

“Hah, that’ll be the day,” Sio rolled her eyes. “Newton and Gandhi...let’s just say their definition of consideration is way different than mine. If anything, the only person I actually don’t have to worry about is Jack...though I’ve got other issues with him...”

“I see...” Her friend mused on the other line. “Still, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but have you actually told them that? Do they know their actions bother you? Or are you just doing the whole ‘polite Japanese’ thing and shrugging it off?”

“I mean, well—I want to, but—”

“‘But...?’ You know Sio-chan, I’m not saying what they’re doing is okay, but at the same time, you also need to stick up for yourself,” Asao gently chided, Sio whining because she knew her friend was right. “I know you don’t like talking to people, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere, right? It seems like they just don’t realize it, but I’m sure if you actually told them how you feel, they might back off. And if not, well, at least you can escalate that to someone in charge.”

“Haaaaaahh...I know, you’re right; I’ll try...but they’re so intimidating at times, the way they’re so...forward,” the sniper flopped backwards onto the pillows. “Ironically, Jack’s the only person I’ve been able to actually talk back to...”

At this revelation her friend made an interesting noise. “Oh? You told Jack-san how you felt? Even though your last three messages to me were about how strict and scary he is?”

“I-I mean, it’s not like I plan my conversations with him, it’s just sometimes he gets so annoying I just react automatically—”

“—Well, what did he say?”

“He—” The sniper caught herself as she recalled their conversations from earlier in the week. “...He, actually apologized, now that I think about it...when he lost his temper from helping me to the laundry, he...he admitted he shouldn’t have been so harsh, that he was just tired...” And then the next day he helped her with the ironing, and giving her lunch...

“Ooh?” Asao’s voice took on a high note. “Really now...I guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover, can you? Well that’s good, it means things do change when you actually speak up about them.”

“Well sure, but I’ve still got a long way to go.”

“Why don’t you ask Jack-san for backup? He’s the leader, right? I’m sure his words carry some weight.”

“I, well...I could, but...he’s already helped me out a lot. I’d feel bad if I constantly went to him with my troubles...” Sio hugged her knees to her chest. “I mean if I really had to, sure...but I wanna try and handle this on my own, first. Besides, it’d probably be more effective if it came from me.”

“‘Atta girl, Sio. I know you can do it.” Asao cheered from the other end. “But it’s getting pretty late on your end, isn’t it? You should get some sleep, even if you’re not going anywhere. A routine sleeping schedule will help you feel better.”

Sio glanced at the clock, which was about to strike midnight. “Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, thanks a bunch, Asao-san. If there’s one thing I’m grateful for about all this, it’s that I can finally chat with you whenever I want.”

Her friend laughed. “Of course, Sio-chan. I’m really happy about that, too. Take care! And feel free to text me whenever! Oyasumi.”

“Oyasumi.” Yawning, Sio set her phone on the nightstand, stretching like a cat before crawling underneath the fluffy duvet. “I’m so glad Asao-san’s my friend...I don’t know what I’d do without her...” Turning off the lights, she laid her head down and was asleep within minutes. ------ “Nnng...hnn, uhn...”

It was hot, but it felt good. Her legs ached, but again, she couldn’t seem to stop. Her body turned over and her hips moved on their own, grinding clumsily against a lump of blankets.

“Unn...hmm...hmmm...!! Nnng...!!”

It felt so good; a heat bubbling up from her groin, tickling her senses in a way she’d never felt before. Yet it never seemed to be enough—no matter how much she pushed her hips she couldn’t get enough, because it just felt too good—

“Ahn...ah, ah...nng...y, yes...” Her breathing grew strained as her body grew desperate. To reach that peak, that...whatever it was. Her limbs were quivering as she rolled over again, this time one of the extra pillows wedging itself perfectly between her thighs. “Oh, yes...ah, right ther...kimochi ii...iii...!”

Almost there! So close!

A tingle of electricity went up her spine as the edge of the pillow rubbed right against that sweet spot between her legs and Sio’s eyes shot open, gasping for breath as she woke up right on the verge of ecstasy. “Wha—what the, what’s...huh...?” For some reason she was breathing as though she’d run a marathon, and her clothes were all sweaty...

‘Oh no, do I have a fever? Is it the virus?!’ In a panic she slid out of bed, ignoring the strange throbbing between her legs as she fumbled for a thermometer. “37.7 degrees Celsius...whew, normal.” Sighing with relief, she slowly crawled back to bed, now finally noticing the strange tightness down there, throbbing in time with her pulse. “Nnn...what the heck, why do I feel so...weird? My body’s all...hot and tingly, b-but I don’t have a fever...”

The sniper could only recall vague remnants of some dream she’d been having moments earlier, but like most dreams, it vanished the second she woke up. Bits and pieces remained however, Sio closing her eyes as she tried to remember what was making her so hot and bothered.

‘It was...I was...really hot? Something...no, I think it was someone touching me...but, it wasn’t scary at all; it felt...gentle, and really good...’

Before she knew it, one of her hands slipped down between her thighs, Sio unconsciously now trying to replicate what she’d experienced in the dream with her own hands. A finger gingerly rubbed a slight bump on the outside of her underwear and she shivered, a shock of pleasure running through her body.

‘Yes, it felt, like this...it felt, so good...’

“Hnn...it’s, just like my dream...” She mumbled, mind falling back into that hazy pleasure halfway between dreams and reality, as Sio started touching herself in earnest. The sniper wasn’t even aware of what she was doing, only a vague knowledge of something she’d read in health books came floating up—but that was quickly shoved aside as her fingers became a little more confident, rubbing a little harder now and the pleasure started climbing.

“Ah...ah, nng...it feels really good...h-how, what is...” She was panting slightly, not even realizing her other hand had snaked underneath her shirt and was gently stroking her breast.

‘W-Wait a minute...what am I...am I, touching myself...?’ Suddenly she was conscious of where her hands were, just what she was doing; a finger still rubbing between her legs—only now there was a slight dampness seeping onto the fabric.

Sio blushed, finally realizing that this was what masturbation was—but at the same time it felt too good for her to stop. ‘W-Whoa...is this what...masturbating feels like? It’s...kinda embarrassing to admit, but it does feel really good...’ Sighing, she decided to just continue and see what happened. Besides, at least she had her own room here, and nobody shared a wall.

“Mnn...it’s, not enough...I want to feel, more...” Biting her lips, the sniper slowly shed her damp panties, heart pounding in nervous excitement as it occurred to her she was going to pleasure her most private place, with her own two hands. ‘Somehow, doing something kinda...naughty like this...I’m getting excited...’ Gulping, she gently reached a finger down, only to pull away in shock as she felt something moist and slippery. “Wha—uh, why’s it all wet down here?” She reached finger down again, and this time pushed a little deeper, her stomach clenching as her fingers started exploring the region.

“Whoa...I’m getting really wet...I can’t believe that really happens,” she mumbled, rather enjoying the slipperiness across her fingertips. Between the hot, slick folds, untangling her dark curls—she squealed as her fingertips finally brushed against that most sensitive spot, now hard and engorged from stimulation.

“Ahn...! W-what is this...why’s it feel so much better...compared to, anywhere else...” Moaning very slightly, Sio started fondling her clit, using two fingers to rub circles around it as the other hand now massaged her breasts. “Oooh...god, this feels amazing...”

Slowly but surely, that same, slow-burn tension from her dream was now building up in real life. The sniper was using both her hands at this point, one to massage her sensitive clit while the other poked around her folds, coating everything with her juices that were now dripping down her thighs.

“Ah, ah, ah...oh god, it’s happening...th-that, same feeling...from my dream...!” Her body was hot all over, limbs starting to twitch as this new tension built up somewhere deep inside her. Her hands were more forceful now, rubbing tight circles around her clit, back arching every so often as she tried to reach that goal again, before she woke up. Her legs were spread underneath the covers, hips undulating as she tried to push herself to the peak.

‘I-It’s, so close...I-I’m so close, why can’t I...’ Moaning in frustration and arousal, she took a break, panting for air as she gently ran her fingers all over her smooth, soft skin. ‘In my dream, I think there was someone else...who was doing this to me...and it felt so good...’

She didn’t remember much, but she knew whoever it was had much larger hands than her; they were calloused but firm, gentle as they fondled her breasts, then her opening, teasing her with that same, steady pressure until she was sure she could bear it no more.

“Ahn...ah...ah...ah, ah, ah—oh god...!” While she fantasized about her mystery dream lover, her fingers punished her clit with a desperate fervor; Sio felt her legs twitching, hips bucking with the same rhythm as her fingers while her body pushed itself towards an orgasm.

‘It’s so good...I-I think I’m coming...I’m, gonna, cum—!’ For some reason right at the precipice, Adam’s alabaster-white torso flashed in her mind, with those toned muscles... With a startled cry she climaxed as the heat crashed over, a searing pleasure overwhelming all her senses at once. Clenching her teeth, she pushed a finger against her throbbing clit, rubbing it every so often and shaking from the aftershocks until everything subsided at last, Sio letting out a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding.

“Hah, hah...ooohh, that felt...incredible.” Heaving, she fumbled for a tissue and wiped up the mess that had formed between her legs, as well as any residue from her fingers. “Man, who knew you could make yourself feel so good, with your own hands...is that why people do this...”

At last she snuggled down underneath the covers, now very satisfied and quite exhausted (no wonder people did this in bed; it made you so sleepy!) Before she fully conked out again though, the image of Adam’s body floated up again, Sio blushing with realization.

‘Wh-What the hell...why am I think about him now, i-it’s not like I want to see him naked or to, to...do that...to me...ugh, must be because I was chatting about him with Asao-san, that’s why...’

She pulled the covers up resolutely and forced herself to go to sleep, trying desperately to ignore the burning in her cheeks. ---- “Good morning love! Goodness, did you sleep too late again? Those bags under your eyes will become permanent at this rate,” the blonde tsked as the sniper rubbed her eyes and let out a huge yawn.

“A-Ah, uh, B-Beckham-san, you—”

“I thought I told you, call me ‘Jess’—”

“Right, Jess-san, er...”

“—Another late night gossiping with your friend?”

“Ah, Gandhi-san—”

“Oy, what’s with the chatter?!” All three stopped talking as their leader walked into the kitchen, hair still tousled. “And for the love god, could you two put on some damn clothes?!” He glared at the two, one of whom was walking around in knickers and the other who was completely shirtless, much to Sio’s chagrin. “This ain’t a uni dorm...”

“Such a prude, Adam...you really need to get laid, love.” The blonde teased much to their leader’s chagrin but went to change, as did Mahesh, Adam blushing and grumbling all the while about how it’d been barely a week and already they were devolving into a couple of degenerates.

“O, Ohayou, Jack-san...” The sniper steeled herself now that it was just the two of them, doing her best to not look at anywhere even remotely close to his body; the events of last night were still fresh in her mind, and she certainly hadn’t forgotten the weird tingles she felt every time she even thought about him.

‘Just play it cool, Sio, it’s not like that meant anything; it just means you’re attracted to a muscular body, that’s all, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s him...’

“Hn? Oh, mornin’ squirt...” The silver-haired man gave a slight glance her way, before opening the fridge and grabbing out breakfast items. “You eat already?”

“Not yet...I-I mean, I was just gonna eat some toast and jam—”

“—want eggs with that?”

The sniper’s head shot up. “E-Eggs? Ye—I mean uh, I...um, if it’s not too much trouble...”

“‘S fine, since I’m already making some for myself.” With a practiced hand he cracked two eggs simultaneously, Sio watching in amazement as he skillfully flipped them. “So, how d’you like your eggs?”

“Uh, sunny-side up, please! But a little less runny.” Her eyes continued to stare, however, Adam smirking a bit as she let out a small noise of wonder.

“What’re you so excited about? They’re just eggs.”

“Ah! It’s just, I’m impressed, Jack-san...you really do know your stuff. Like, you cracked those with only one hand, just like they do on TV!”

Her enthusiasm was infectious; it took all his willpower to not just smile back at her, though that didn’t stop his heart from thumping loudly in his chest. Seriously, what was going on? He couldn’t possibly...well, like her, could he?

‘Like’ has many connotations...it doesn’t have to mean romance...

“Well, practice makes perfect, squirt. You could give it a try if you want,” he cast her a glance, but the girl only laughed nervously.

“Maybe some other time...trust me, you don’t wanna know how I did in my home ec classes...”

A few minutes later there were two plates stacked with eggs, toast, jam, and (in Adam’s case) a couple rashers of bacon and small ramekin of baked beans.

“Uwaa!! This looks so delicious! Ittadakimasu!” The smell of a perfectly fried egg on top of crisp, buttery toast... Sio let out a hum as she happily munched her breakfast, the weird libido-lust thing all but forgotten. “Now I know for sure, you’re really good at cooking, Adam. Did your mom teach you?”

At that comment Adam paused mid-bite, but the sniper didn’t notice. “...You could say that. She taught me the basics, and I...just practiced a lot on my own.”

“Oh? So is like, cooking one of your hobbies, then?”

“...Not particularly. I don’t mind it, but I became good at it out of necessity, more than anything else...” Suddenly his voice became melancholy, and the sniper wondered if she said the wrong thing, again.

“...Oh. I-I’m sorry, I uh...didn’t mean to...pry...” She awkwardly took a sip of her tea; the silence was deafening, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Eh; it’s fine. I don’t talk about it, because...what’s the point,” Adam sighed, scraping up the remaining beans and spooning it onto his toast. “I mean, when you’ve only got your mum lookin’ after you an’ no other family...you grow up pretty quick.”

“Ah, Jack-san...” Before she could say anything else however, the other two members finally returned, thankfully dressed this time. As Jess and Mahesh set about getting their own breakfast, she quickly excused herself to go help Adam with the dishes.

“Here, why don’t you let me load them? I can do it now, thanks to you...”

He gave her a curious look, Sio unsure of how to decipher that expression, but the next thing she knew he nodded in thanks and left her at the sink.

I wonder...if something happened to him in the past. Though Adam didn’t anything else after that, just from that one sentence Sio knew now that Adam grew up with a single parent, and no other siblings—or other close relatives, even. Perhaps that was why he was such a loner; it was always harder to open up to others when you spent so much time relying on yourself.

“Need some help, Sio-chan?” She looked up and Mahesh and Jess were carrying their plates to the sink. “Thanks for cleaning up, by the way; believe me when I say we appreciate it!”

“Oh, it’s no big deal...I mean, we’re gonna be here for a while, so might as well help out.”

“You are just too sweet!” The blonde practically crushed Sio into her generous bosom, and the sniper instantly stiffened. "You deserve a reward—”

Those lips. That tongue. Almost mesmerized, Sio just stared as Jess drew closer, but then...

“—Oh!”

Sio blinked, not quite sure what just happened. It was as if her body reacted on instinct, her arms pushing Jess away just before they could make contact, and now both she and Mahesh were staring at her with bewildered looks.

‘Oh boy, I’ve done it now...still, here goes nothing...!’

“Look, Jess-san. I...I get that’s how you show affection—a-and maybe you Europeans are more used to it, but...I don’t like it. It...really makes me uncomfortable when you just...get so close to me, all of a sudden...s, so, s-so...” Her arms were shaking with fear, but the need to say what she really felt was even stronger. Asao was right; she couldn’t stay silent forever and hope that one day people would be able to magically read her mind. She needed to take the initiative, no matter how awkward it made things.

“So...please, don’t...do that to me. Please...” Her voice wavered and the sniper could feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes, but she couldn’t back down now. “Please...don’t just, suddenly grab or, touch me like that...I don’t like it at all. And same goes for you, Gandhi-san; I don’t like guys who are so aggressive like that.”

And before either of the two could say another word the sniper fled up the stairs into her room, her courage finally depleted. ------ “Cooking as a hobby, ‘ey? Heh, why not, squirt...” Lo-fi hip-hop was streaming through the headphones, Adam absently checking his email (for once) while relaxing to some music. It’d been nearly a week since Command dropped the bombshell on them, yet the platoon had adopted to its civilian lifestyle with almost shocking speed. Sure, he still had to make sure everybody was keeping up with their training, and once a day he personally checked in with either Saint-Germain or the Commander herself, but other than that it was surprisingly...chill.

Well, aside from random incidents such as seeing Jess waltz around in black lace knickers, and Mahesh’s annoying habit of not putting on a shirt unless he had to. And oh yeah, that first night where Sio blindly walked in on him just as he’d gotten out of the shower.

The squirt... Sio Ogura. His fingers stopped typing as the petite girl crossed his mind. She was different. Unique. At first, it was easy for him to dismiss her as just another newbie who was in way over her head, but she’d proven to be surprisingly capable in their last few missions.

‘An’ now she wants to learn how to keep house...how cute.’ Adam snorted lightly to himself, but it was rather adorable watching the girl stumble her way through learning how to use the washing machine, and loading a dishwasher. He had to admit, the girl was stubborn and intuitive; even if it felt like she was missing a screw or two in the common sense department.

Maybe she wasn’t as much of a squirt as he initially pinned her to be. ‘I probably shouldn’t keep callin’ her hanninmae...but what else should I call her? Sio?’ He frowned; that was a little too personal, and if he remembered correctly, Japanese people generally didn’t appreciate strangers calling them by their first names.

That had to be earned.

“Like a certain someone, ‘ey?” He muttered to himself. Adam didn’t miss the fact that he was the only holder whom she addressed by his e-gene name, instead of his real name. Truth be told, it pissed him off that Jess and Mahesh just casually used ‘Adam’ whenever they wanted, but it was too much trouble to bother correcting them. Besides, whenever he did, it usually went in one ear and out the next.

He sighed and shut the laptop. “Might as well go check in on them...” Stretching, he shuffled to the sniper’s door, and was just about to knock when heard a sniffle. “Huh.” He leaned closer and put his ear to the door.

She’s crying. Startled, and without even thinking Adam opened the door, the sniper whirling around in bewilderment at his sudden intrusion.

“Oy, what’s going on? Are you all right?”

“E-Eh?! J-Jack-san??” The sniper hurriedly wiped her eyes, but it wasn’t enough to get rid of the the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“U-Uh, um...I—wait, wh-why are you in my room?”

“Uh...” Shit. Good question. Adam wanted to say that he heard her crying and was concerned, but she might take it the wrong way. ‘Actually. she definitely would take it the wrong way.’

“I, I uh, just wanted to check if you finished your training yet, but I heard you crying—I-I thought you hurt yourself or something—I—” He fumbled wordlessly for something, but even his Jack the Ripper couldn’t think of an excuse for this situation. “A-Anyway, sorry about...barging in like that. Guess we’re tit-for-tat, eh?”

“O-Oh...I, it’s...you don’t need to worry about it, Jack-san. I-It’s—I can handle it myself...I’m, fine...”

Adam raised an eyebrow, gently making his way to the side of the bed. “You sure about that, squirt?”

“I-I, uh...” The sniper stuttered and looked away.

“Hey, look; I, uh, know I’m probably not the most approachable guy, but I’m also your squad leader. And that means if there’s something botherin’ you, I’m more than willing to listen.” Adam slowly rounded the corner, sitting the built-in reading bench by the window. “An’ I’m not just sayin’ this ‘cause I’m the leader. If you wanna talk about it...I’m all ears.”

The sniper hiccuped a bit more, grabbing a tissue and hugging her knees to her chest, but still didn’t face him. Adam waited patiently until the tears seemed to have stopped.

“W, Well...it’s, m-more like, i-it has to do with, the other two...N-Newton-san and Gandhi-san. U-Uh, y-you know how both of them are alway so, so...touchy-feely,” Adam made a low rumbling noise at this, “s-so, earlier I, b-basically told them I didn’t...appreciate that, a-and, and...” the sniper squeezed herself into a tighter ball, if possible. “I, pushed Newton away...b-but, I didn’t mean it like that, I wasn’t trying to hurt her or say that I hated her, but I just didn’t want to be that close, and—”

“—You didn’t do anything wrong.” Adam’s low tenor cut through her anxiety-babble. “That’s on them, for not respecting your personal space...” Oddly enough, he felt as angry as he’d ever been—even moreso than his usual irritation at their tiresome antics. If it was just him, then fine; he could brush it off, but the fact that not only was Sio been so bothered by it, but she felt guilty about telling them off...

“I, I know that...b-but still, I...don’t want them to think I, hate them or anything like that...” The girl finally lifted her head, eyes now red and puffy from crying. “I, still think they’re good people...I just, don’t want them to keep getting so close to me like that...” Before she could go into another round of waterworks Adam was handing her a tissue, which she gratefully accepted.

“Honestly, it’s about time we addressed these issues. Especially if we’re gonna be living together for the next few weeks, I can’t let this keep happening. Hell, you’ve got more balls than me; you actually said something, where as I...just shrugged it off.”

At this the sniper looked up in surprise. “R, Really? Y-You, never told them you...don’t like it, either?”

Adam barked out a laugh. “Heh...surprising, isn’t it? Yeh, I’m surprised myself, honestly...can’t say exactly why I never did, except I figured it probably wasn’t a good idea t’ get all wound up with someone whom was going to be working with indefinitely. I don’t know...” he leaned back into the cushions, eyes closing in some lost memory. “Perhaps it’s because I figured, if I could put up with it, then maybe it’s better to do that, instead of protesting...” Adam shook his head. “Who knows. I guess to be honest, deep down, I’m someone who’d rather not rock the boat, you know what I mean?”

Whoa. He was much different than her initial impressions, for sure. Sio never would have guessed that Jack the Ripper—no, Adam Muirhead, was actually much more reserved than she thought. Not to mention the fact that, just like her, he preferred to stay quiet and bear the burden, instead of speaking out.

“Mn...I, definitely get that.” Before she knew it Sio quirked a small smile. “Heh, wow, I...I didn’t know we had similar thoughts...”

Adam returned the smile, and to her dismay the sniper felt her cheeks blushing. “The things you find out when we’re not in battle, right? Anyway, don’t beat yourself up. It’s high time we cleared this up; I’m gonna call a meeting tonight. Don’t worry about feeling awkward; I’ll handle it, and if they make a fuss—well, let’s just say I’m not above using my authority to make sure they stay in line...”

Sio nodded, though she sincerely hoped it was just a matter of misunderstanding and ignorance. The last thing she wanted was to strain the relationships between them, and who knew how that would affect their performance in battle.

“Also, squir—I mean, Ogura,” her ears perked at the sound of her real name, “er, it is all right to call you, that, yeh?”

Her heart started drumming in her chest and that strange warmth was flooding her body again. “O-Oh, of course! Th, thanks, Jack-san...”

“Cool. Anyway, I’m sorry you had to go through such a beastly thing, but...I’m grateful you told me about it. You really are something else, aren’t you?”

“Ah...” Those wide maroons stared at his back, Sio now shyly clutching her pillow. “Th-Thank you, Jack-san...not just for doing something about this, but...thank you for listening to me. I really appreciate it...”

Adam felt his face grow warm. “...You’re welcome. Oh, and uh, one more thing,” he paused at the doorway, “my name is Adam. My real name is Adam Muirhead.”

“Then...thank you, Adam-san.”

#documentation #//heuuurrurur #//wow #//haven't been on a roll in so long #//its GOOD

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nancywheelxr · 5 years

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from that drabble challenge list - 15 with five and any of the other hargreeves siblings, you choose

Anon, thank you so much, I love writing these chaotic disasters.

15. “I’d kill for a coffee… literally.”

Klaus is napping on the couch.

No, really, he is. Just give him a few minutes and he’ll be off to dreamland, very far from any new end of the world scenarios that he has no doubt will pop up in a few days. That’ just how it is when you’ve got shitty luck like them.

So, he’s napping on the couch when a shadow falls over him.

A very small shadow.

“Klaus,” the shadow says, way too bossy for such a tiny thing. Klaus peels one eye open and finds Five predictably scowling down at him. “If Luther or Diego asks, I’ll be back before dinner. Tell them not to start without me– are you listening to me?”

He waves a hand, “yeah, yeah. Luther and Diego are to sit tight while you’re off gallivanting in the real world.”

“This is not– nevermind. Allison should be back by then.”

And with that he’s off, shaking his head like he’s still the boss of them, which is ridiculous, because if anyone should be boss, it should be Allison, she’s the one looking like a proper grown-up these days.

The front door closes and Klaus shrugs; he’ll just sit tight too, then.

The shadow is back.

Klaus knows that because Ben hasn’t stopped whining about being bored since Five first left and his loud sighs are impossible to block out.

“Klaus,” the tiny shadow barks, and Klaus doesn’t even have to look up to know the kid is in a bad mood. “You searched through this place before. Where would Luther hide Dad’s guns?”

On one hand, this is a very troubling statement.

On the other hand, how’s that for being bored, now?

“Dad’s office, maybe?” He offers, glancing up at all the closed doors on the second floor. The big guy isn’t the smartest cookie in the jar, and he’s certainly not the most creative. Actually, Klaus wouldn’t be surprised if Luther had returned it to its exact same place. “Or the main bedroom. Under the bed, perhaps? Or inside the closet, if we’re going classic.”

“Already searched there. Where else?”

“You shouldn’t enable this,” Ben pipes up from the armchair, making a vaguely constipated face. “Can he even reach the top shelf?”

“I don’t know, he can teleport there,” he throws a pillow in his direction, hoping this is the kind of stressful situation to trigger Ben into being just a little bit solid. Klaus is not asking much. Just a little, just enough for the pillow to bounce off his forehead.

And because Five has about the patience of soccer mom in a department store, he does the equivalent of asking to see the manager. “Forget it. This is a waste of time, I’m going to ask Mom,” and pops out of there.

“You really should stop him,” Ben says, looking dubiously in the direction of the kitchen.

Another pillow flies. “Quit being a little bitch, Ben.” A pause, “he says, with the utmost affection.”

Ben rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch in a smile.

For the third time that afternoon, a teeny-tiny shadow falls over him.

“Klaus,” Five shakes his shoulder without mercy. “Wake up, you’re driving me to the nearest diner.”

“Klaus,” Ben echoes, sounding alarmed, but Klaus isn’t very inclined to be alarmed himself, because, see, in his experience, Ben is easily alarmed by things. Such is the nature of ghosts, he figures. “I really think you should stop him now.”

“Go away,” he says instead, turning away and hoping both of them would get the hint and leave him alone, “I can’t drive, go bother Diego, he can play taxi.”

“Everyone’s out and you drive like a maniac. It should work as a getaway car as long as you don’t crash it– do you think you can manage that?”

The words are processed in stages. First, Klaus is offended because come on, everyone knows he can’t drive, it’s not his fault. Then, he remembers the ice cream truck and yeah, maybe he’s got a point. Finally– “Why do you need a getaway car?”

Klaus’ eyes fly open and he jolts up into a sitting position, the pillow he had been hugging falling to the carpeted floor. Holy crap, he thinks, Five snapped. It was bound to happen, really, but the sight of a thirteen-years-old holding a sniper’s rifle is always a bit startling.

Ben shakes his head, burying it on his hands.

“I need a coffee,” Five says.

“Okay,” Klaus blinks, “are you taking me hostage?”

“What? No, I need you to drive me there and leave the car ready while I hold the diner hostage.”

“That’s– do you need money? Because I’m broke, but we can totally pawn some shit and–”

“Stop wasting my time, of course I have money! That’s not even close to the problem– do you know how hard it is to order a black coffee alone when you look like this?” Five gestures himself, the movement a little awkward on the account of his holding a gun bigger than his short body, but that doesn’t stop him, he’s clearly very passionate about this. “Very difficult. If anyone else asks me one more time if I want a milkshake instead,” he trails off, taking a deep breath, but the message is pretty clear because, you know, gun.

Ben is still muttering to himself, apparently checked out of the conversation. Which is great, honestly, leave it to Klaus to talk the tiny assassin down from murder. However possibly could this go wrong? “I think,” he says carefully, “there are a few steps we could take before escalating to homicide.”

Five closes his eyes as if praying for patience. “I’d kill for a decent cup of coffee,” he adjusts the rifle on his hand with frighteningly ease, “literally.”

“I can see that, yeah?” Klaus smiles, reaching deliberately for the gun. Surprisingly, Five gives in after only a couple minutes of tug of war. Again, all very safe and responsible. He sets it down on the coffee table after double checking if the safety is on. “That’s great, buddy. Now, why don’t we skedaddle out of here before Luther finds this and goes all self-righteous on us?”

“Luther can go–”

Shushing him with a finger, Klaus clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Mind your language, young man. I thought I raised you better than that.”

“If I wasn’t short on bullets, I would shoot you right now,” Five informs him in a pleasant voice, like the darling family psycho he is.

“I know, and I love you too,” he gets to his feet, picking up his coat from the floor and Diego’s wallet from the table, after all, babysitting Five should always be a team effort. “Now come along, kiddo, tell me which waitress made you cry and we’ll guilt trip her into giving you some coffee.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if the apocalypse wouldn’t have been better.”

“Hey, I’m buying you coffee, you are contractually obligated to be nice to me.”

Ben, who had finally lifted his head from his hands, stands up as well. “I don’t know, isn’t caffeine suppose to stunt your growth?”

Klaus grins. “Yeah, he has a point. Isn’t caffeine gonna stunt your growth, short stack?”

“I should’ve sneaked out the fire escape,” Five sighs, trailing after him with a last longing look at the rifle.

#look an ask #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #the umbrella academy #tua #tua fic #tua fanfic #this was way bigger than a drabble whoops #five and klaus brotp tag #tua tag

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