#always practice gun safety DO NOT EVER point a gun at someone you don’t intend to seriously harm or kill

[cxrrodedcoffin]

i like my men well-armed.

need him to point that thing at me sometime

inspired by this post by @an1t4k ♡

[abbynx]

Being Sorlato’s child + Being babysat by La squadra

A/N: Soooo, this is a direct sequel from the one-shot “Encounter” if you haven’t read it yet, feel free to browse it here 

Genre: Fluff, platonic, wholesome headcanons

- After the encounter, the couple found themselves thinking about it all the time, how different they acted to a child at the face of danger, and how afraid they were and how quick they were to act upon instinct and save you. There was certainly something the couple felt in their chest they can’t fathom but somehow liked the pleasant feeling. 

- One time Sorbet was found lounging around the La Squadra headquarters with a pamphlet regarding parenting whilst waiting for the meeting. When asked why he was reading that he nonchalantly replies that the thing was lying around and decided to read it because, “Why not?” One knows not to question him any further, so they let him be. 

- Gelato was found longingly staring at parents with their kids on the playground whilst on a mission and again, no one dared to speak a word of it. He didn’t leave even if the mission was over, until Sorbet was called in and had to physically drag him away. 

- They both knew it was getting out of hand because all they can think of now was wanting to raise a child of their own but they knew their circumstance were the least ideal to put a child in. For crying out loud, they kill people for a living and they didn’t really want to subject a child into this mess of their’s. 

- “God, is this what baby fever feels like?” 

- The couple has discussed about this, over and over than they can recall. When Gelato would suddenly mention, “You know, if we were to have a son I think that you can teach him how to ride a bike. That’d be sweet to watch to be honest.” or Sorbet saying, “If we were to have a daughter, I get to threaten her boyfriend to bring her back home before dinner.” 

- Once again, they were out to go on their once a week date all to their selves and decided to go to the same restaurant they had to stop in to save the child. And on their way their, what are the odds, the aforementioned child coming up to them and greeting them. 

“Ciao signore Sorbet! Signore Gelato!” 

W-was this a sign??? 

 "Ahh, Y/N!" Gelato was practically enthusiastic, he can just pick you up, but of course, he has to bind himself down. 

 "Out in the middle of the night again, I see." Sorbet points out. 

 "Aheh, yes sir..." You sheepishly responded. "But I really have to do everything if I want to graduate elementary with high marks." 

 - After a brief chat, weather, school and whatnot, once again you went on with your merry little way. After that, it was back for longing and yearning for the couple. 

 - The rest of La Squadra noticed this, but didn't knew how to help; until Melone picked up on the signs the couple were exuding: Sorbet reading the parenting pamphlet, Gelato longingly gazing towards parents bonding with their children, the two of them talking away about 'If we were to have a child...'— why, Melone's diagnosis: Baby fever. 

 - Melone somehow came up with an elaborate scheme involving an orphanage, did a couple of research. Due to some... Fortunate moment, somehow, someway, the figure running the same orphanage you resided in has made quite the list of enemies all his years. 

 "Melone you know that you can just tell them it's okay for them to adopt the child, right???" Risotto looks up from the detailed, complex document sent in by Babyface's user. 

 - Yes, it was stupidly complicated and a lot of work compared to just simply signing papers and adopting the child. The paperwork would be, again, stupidly complicated, but at least it doesn't involve bloodshed. It's not like the couple shied away from shedding blood but that wasn't the point. 

 - Capo Risotto had to consider their circumstances to adopt a child. Like I said, the dilemma was killing them and simply can't act out of selfishness and adopt a child just because they wanted to, it wasn't the same as a adopting a pet.

 - Cue the four hour meeting with the couple, discussing about what they can do and what they cannot do. Risotto was most certainly happy for the two of them to be adopting a child of their own, taking care of them and along of those lines but again, the fact they are a part of a crime syndicate and there were a lot of things they discussed about. 

 - After that, everything was settled and got started with the process of adopting the child. They didn't have to chose, they already had their eyes set on a specific kid; Y/N L/N, age eleven, abandoned by their parents when they were born, who adores reading and loves (insert food) and— what? They've done their research!

 - The couple was just beyond elated!

 - Through the process of adopting you they learned you were six 

 - Now that fact was uncovered, they were now more concerned and pissed why the orphanage would neglect a first grader and let them return from school at eight in the evening. And the fact that they met you under the circumstance of danger, pretending to be the couple's kid in desperation. 

 - Needless to say, a lot of things are going to change in your life, especially at the aspect of your security. They are a part of those people you should fear at night, admittedly gelato has almost pulled a gun on you that fateful night out of sheer jealousy, and didn't even register the fact you were barely half Sorbet's height.

 - First and foremost, you won't be staying in school longer than six thirty, as the couple takes turn on picking you up. They understand and adore the fact you're a hardworking kid thriving to have a scholarship in college despite being a literal first grader, but being a little kid walking alone in the middle of an evening is frightfully concerning. And in those times wherein either sorbet or Gelato picks you up, they'd buy you treats you want but not enough to spoil your appetite for dinner. 

- You did not hesitate to address them the way you addressed them that one fateful night when they tucked you in your new room for the very first time.. Gelato cried after that and Sorbet had to hold him to his chest to clam him down. Ugh, you were so effortless at making the two of them so soft. 

 - They're underpaid, not broke, so the couple spoils you in an overwhelming rate, the entirety of La Squadra were beginning to get concerned. Proscuitto scolded the two that they might spoil you rotten, but they reassured them you weren't. 

 - Speaking of La Squadra, the couple considered them as their family. Sorbet and Gelato did not hesitate to introduce you to them not as La Squadra, but as your uncles.

 - All of them were touched that Sorbet and Gelato want them to be a part of their child's life, that one of them would often volunteer to watch over you if the two were away. The couple were not going to introduce you to them as assassins and took advantage of your gullible nature as a young child. they don't intend to hide it as a secret from you. Perhaps someday they'll tell you their line of career, but six was not the right age to do so. 

 - Which brings us to their circumstances, the fact that they're assassins and how it is not an ideal career for people who has an attachment outside of their jobs. They were extremely careful in terms of that, wanting to protect and prevent others from using you against the couple. Well, now there's now a fate worse than death if ever that happens. 

 - With new responsibilities, Risotto understood them and gave them less jobs in order to take care and watch over you. But there were times where the two were both absent, prompting one of La Squadra to babysit you.

- Melone, Formaggio and Proscuitto are top picks for babysitting duties! but, of course, there are disadvantages. Melone is... Melone. Formaggio can and will act as a kid rather than an adult. And Proscuitto, well, he can be a bit too domineering. So yes, they are A-tier babysitters, nonetheless. 

 - B-tier babysitters would be Illuso, Pesci, and Ghiaccio. Illuso can be a bit too dismissive, Pesci will be too anxious and overprotective-- like in an extreme rate, and Ghiaccio... Hide your copy of Merchant of Venice, and you'll live another day. 

 - S-tier would be Risotto, except the fact that he is always busy. He is good with kids and he can guarantee their safety, I mean, need I say more?

 - Under no circumstances, are they allowed to swear around you. The couple already had restricted their foul language around you, and they expect the others to do so as well. Ghiaccio is highkey sweating when you started saying bullshit whenever you're frustrated. He profusely begged you not to day that again in exchange for ice cream. 

“Bullshit!” Ghiaccio’s heart skipped a beat after hearing your small voice whisper-shout on the dinner table as you attempted to solve a rather difficult math problem. 

 - Your relationship with them was well. They were protective of you, love you and support you. They're very affectionate, but not in an overwhelming amount... Well, at least they try to hold back but all they want to do is to spend time with their baby and love them unconditionally, as they should. 

 - Padre Gelato is more of a fun dad, very playful and energetic. He likes lifting you up to his hip before gently nuzzling his nose against yours. Dad jokes subconsciously slips from his mouth, be careful. He does a lot of cool tricks with his butterfly knife, twirling the sharp blade around while you stare in awe, whilst Papa Sorbet was more concerned that he'll accidentally cut himself, or that you might try the trick unsupervised. Needless to say, Padre was responsible enough to keep his knife in his pocket at all times to prevent that. 

“When will you teach me how to do that, Papa?” 

“When your old enough, N/N.” 

 - Papa Sorbet is a bit more reserved, but certainly not distant. He will not hesitate to kill someone who tries to hurt you. So he's the perfect person to serve as your teacher, as he helps you with school work and help you learn other practical things: cooking, baking, doing laundry by hand (which product is more effective to get blood off clothes), self-defense, etc. 

“So if there’s a stranger following you, what do you do?”

“Cling to the nearest person I see and pretend that I know them?”

 - They both tuck you into bed after reading you a bed time story, though it only lasted until you were nine because you insisted you were already grown up (cue, Gelato hiding his face on Sorbet's chest because his baby is all grown up--), but some things don't change because by bed time, they just check up on you even if they won't tuck you in to sleep.

 - Extremely supportive and encouraging. Like, they're basically the gasoline you pour on fire to intensify the fire of your passion. Like, they'll cheer you on sport games and competitions, tries their best to attend recitals, etc, etc. Though sometimes one is missing due to missions, sometimes both, but in the end of the day, you were confident that they would have loved it. 

 - Unbeknownst to you, at the end of the competition, a certain figure will come behind you and lock you on a headlock before harshly rubbing their knuckle atop your head. Uncle Formaggio can be a mean sometimes. So yes, if ever the couple is absent from your competitions, one of your uncles would volunteer to go. 

“‘Sup, little sport?” 

“Uncle Formaggio, my hair--!”

 - The first time you celebrated your birthday with your new parents was your seventh. They wanted to throw a goshdarn ball, but you insisted to keep the party amongst yourself. Just you, your papa and padre, and your  seven weird uncles. You were already a big family, and you were happy with that.

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

You will always be the winter soldier - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Author’s Note: 

This is a flashback of your past with Bucky. Somethings weren’t witnessed by Bucky or you because I just want to give more details about the thoughts of other people as well. So this is definitely written in a third person perspective. This chapter is really long but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. 

Bucky sits in a plane to Munich. Sam got information that the leader of the Flag smashers are currently working there. 

Bucky remembers the last time he was in Germany. It feels like an eternity ago.

„Tell me why I need to watch this series again.“, Bucky looked absolutely annoyed. 

„Its a classic. Everyone knows this series. It’s like general knowledge.“ You answered while scribbling something on your paper. 

„ And why aren't you watching this series?“ 

„Well my love, I know this series by my heart.“, you smiled at him and then saying the exact same thing the actor said on the screen proving him that you really do know this series.

Minutes later you closed your math book with a loud thump and throwing it on the ground. 

"I'm sorry. I don't want to torture you with this series. Maybe I can make it up to you." You winked at Bucky and kissed him on his right cheek. 

„Probably you will find a way.“, Bucky smiled mischievously and kissed you right on your lips with both of his hands on your cheeks. 

You and Bucky weren’t virgins but you both never had sex with each other yet. It made you nervous. 

And Bucky was nervous as well.The last time he had sex was an eternity ago and women changed through the times. Now women are so much more emancipated and strong-minded.

You kissed him. On his face, throat, neck and down his torso. You wanted him as much as he wanted you. 

In this night you and Bucky didn’t have just sex- you made love that night. It was something absolutely soft, and warm and caring about it. 

There was no much of talking and there was no pressure- it was just pure love without saying the word itself. 

Everything changed from that night on. From that day on you both were a couple, without labeling it.

Two weeks later Bucky accompanied you to university. It was something he did regularly and you enjoyed it. It gave your the feeling he was just a normal guy spending time with his girlfriend. And James from Bucharest was  indeed almost a normal guy. While you were bubbling about a math problem no one except math students could understand, he noticed a man.

Bucky knew when he was being followed and it agitated him. 

Now that he wasn’t just concerned with his life but also concerned with your safety it made him anxious. 

He grabbed your right arm and pulled you in a small alley.

You looked at him confused and scared. „What’s going on?“, you asked not understanding his sudden behavior. 

„I wanted to give this to you.“ Bucky pulled out a small mobile phone from his pocket. You looked confused because you already had a smartphone in your trouser pocket. 

„It’s a safe line. So, if you’re in danger or you just think you’re in danger- call me and I will come and get you.“

„You’re scarring me. Are you in trouble? Are WE in trouble? Do we need to run?“ You looked at him, touching his face to make sure he calmed down.

„No. Don’t worry. Everything’s alright.“ Bucky lied. „I’m just taking precautions.“

You doubted this reassurance.

„I can ditch university. I can come with you.“

„No. It calms me down to know that you’re safe at university.“ 

„Okay. But don’t forget: If you jump, I jump, remember?“ You quoted the movie you both watched last night. 

„You’re stuck with me. Where you go, I go.“

He kissed the palm of your left hand. „I’m not going anywhere.“, Bucky lied again. 

And with that he accompanied  you to university. As he left, you walked into your class and you took out your phone and your homework. You checked the latest news. The day before there was a bombing in Vienna but on this day there were breaking that there’s a picture of a suspect. The picture showed no other than Bucky himself. Your heart stopped for a moment and you couldn’t think clearly. This explained his behavior and fear. You knew he was innocent- no doubt about that. You knew the man you fell in love with and James would never do such thing. The only conclusion was that he was being fraud by someone else. You decided to skip the class and go home to find James. 

When you arrived outside, the campus was quite empty because the majority of the students were already in their classes. As you walked to the gate a man was calling you.

„Hey! Wait!“ He jogged to you. 

„You’re working with Bucky, aren’t you? You’re his accomplice.“ The man in front of you assumed. 

„None of your business.“, you muttered. You wanted to pass him but he stopped you by grabbing your shoulder. 

„My name’s Sam Wilson and you really need to come with me.“, he said, scarring you with his words.

His grip was so tight that you couldn’t break free.

„Im not coming with you. Who do you think you are?“

„I’m working with Captain America.“ He said. You could hear the pride in his voice.

„So? That doesn’t make you an authority. I don’t trust you.“

„You saw the picture, didn’t you? You saw the picture of him in the newspaper. You don’t strike me as a dumb person, yeah? You know what this picture means. They are after him. They are already here. So I need your help.“

„Why do you need my help? He’s innocent. That picture is fake and I know it. But do you? Do you believe in his innocence or what aim do you really pursue?“

Sam didn’t answer but he also didn’t let go of you. So the only thing that you could do was to kick him between his legs. But your head start wasn’t for long. You can’t outrun an athlete. He caught you with his hand which made you stumbled and you fell face forward on the ground. Your lip was bleeding. 

„Im sorry. I didn’t intend to hurt you.“

As you looked around you saw police officers pointing their guns at you and Sam. 

„You called the police?!“ You asked unbelievably.

„Ey. They’re pointing their guns at me too. So no- I didn’t call the police.“ 

They handcuffed you both and took off. Sam talked with someone via earpiece: „I’ve got her but the police got us both. I’m sorry.“

At the same time, Bucky, Steve and King T’Challa were also handcuffed. Steve looked at his childhood friend and shared the information Sam just gave him: „I’m sorry, but they’ve got her.“ 

To say that Bucky was furious was an understatement: He would burn down the whole city if they’d hurt her. 

When you arrived at the office in Berlin you couldn’t stop all the questions that were floating in your mind. „Why are we here? Since when is Germany responsible for crimes that happened in Vienna or Bucharest? Why were German police officers in Romania? What the heck is going on?“ You asked but everyone was ignoring you. 

Minutes later a man entered the room and you realized that this was Tony Stark. „Who is that?“ He asked, pointing his finger at you. You didn’t bother to answer him. You just turned your head away. „Alright. Kinda mean but we will get the answers anyway.“ He sat down next to Steve. „Is the thing you have with him even legal?“, he asked you again.

„You tell me. He was born in 1917. I was born 80 years later.“

Tony scrunched up his nose. 

The screen was turned on and you saw James. „Why is he in a cage? Why is there no lawyer? Is this how Germany practices its law now? Did you tell him his right to silence?“ You asked almost aggressively 

„You’re audacious and naive.“, said a man in a suit. 

„Stop insulting me. James is as innocence as I am. He wasn’t in Vienna and I told you that from the beginning. And no one in this damn room is listening. You’re just looking for a guy to take the blame. I don’t know how America treats their suspects but here in Germany they have human rights as well. They have dignity and they are still treated with respect and decency. All people have rights. We learned that 70 years ago and we will never ever forget it, understand?“, you spatted. „You imprisoned and treat him as if he’s a monster.“

„My dear child, do you know what he just did today in Bucharest? The damage he caused?“, the man screamed. 

„But it were you with the loaded guns, right?“

„He’s not just a suspect. He’s the delinquent.“

„In some countries there is a trial for this question to be answered, but you seemed to be hangman and judge in once.“ You provoked him. This was so unlike you that you really couldn’t understand the anger that was inside you. 

„I like her.“ Tony said. „She’s loyal like a golden retriever.“

„Stop insulting me even more. I’m defending the man I love that doesn’t mean I’m a puppy wagging its tail.“ 

Before anyone could say anymore to worsen the situation the power was gone for merely seconds but the power was back, Bucky disappeared from the video. Everyone in the room turned around and looked at you. 

„How are you going to explain this.“ Tony asked you 

„Kid, you stay here. Don’t even think about leaving this room.“ As Tony walked downstairs he asked himself if you’re related to a woman he met over 20 years ago who happens to have the same last surname like you did. No, unlikely. Almost impossible. 

Bucky, in his winter soldier mode only had one aim: to kill as many people as possible. But something was off. He hasn’t been the winter soldier for quite some time and the impact you had. The thought that you were hurt made him even more lethal. His priority was to find you and made sure you were okay. So everyone who fought him was a threat, an enemy.

It ended in a cafeteria where Bucky held a gun to the head of a seemingly important man. Bucky was circled with dozen of agents, all pointing a gun at him. 

„Where is she? Where is (y/f/n)?“ Bucky asked

„She’s okay. You don’t need to worry about her.“, Steve assured Bucky

„I don’t trust you. I need to see her.“ 

„We can bring her here. So you can see it for yourself.“ Steve suggested while Bucky just nodded. 

Steve and Tony ran upstairs and Tony grasped Steve by his arm. „What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You can’t bring her downstairs to him. He’s dangerous and she’s just a kid. You can’t control him.“

„He isn’t dangerous and I don’t think he would hurt her. After all they are something like a couple. She knows him. And we will be there as well. Trust me, Tony. Nothing will happen.“

So they both accompanied you downstairs. 

You’ve got nervous, shaking uncontrollably. „You don’t have to do this.“ Tony said. 

„And I’m really sorry that I compared you with a golden retriever. I just think that loyalty is a great character trait.“

You smiled at him. „It’s alright. I’m sorry too. For being so angry and impulsive and arrogant.“

„Are you scared?“ Tony asks. „No, I’m not. I trust him. I trust the man I love. He isn’t the winter soldier anymore. And that he remembers me in this moment- that’s a good sign, isn’t it? So I had a little impact on him.“

Steve opened the door. You felt all the eyes of the agents on you. Thats really made you uncomfortable but you tried to ignore and only concentrate on James. You tried to relax. Your hands where cold as ice- something that always happens when you get nervous. You walked towards him. „You need to let go of this man, James.“, you pointed with your eyes at the man. „I’m alright. I’m safe.“ You approached him. „You really need to let go of him.“ Your voice was firmer. „The agents here are scared of you. They see you as a threat. So I’m begging you: let go of him.“ 

And Bucky let go of him. „They hurt you.“ He stated looking at your bruised lips. „No, they didn’t. I stumbled.“ You reassured him. „James, you need to put down the gun as well. The avengers aren’t the enemy. We can trust them. I do. I trust them and I think we might need their help.“ And you kissed him. Right in front of anyone. You heard the thump of the gun greeting the ground as James let go of it. 

You broke the kiss and caressed his cheek. But before Bucky could say anything you looked to your right and something you saw made you so scared. You pushed Bucky with all the strength you’ve got, making him stumble a few steps backwards. But that was enough to take his spot. 

Bucky saw the redness on your shirt before he heard the bang of the gun. Steve and Tony screamed „NO!“, but it was already too late. You looked at it and all the color of your face vanished. You started to fall but Bucky caught you, laying you softly on the ground. Soon you lost you consciousness.

Steve used the chaos to get Bucky out of there. „They will help her. But you need to come. It’s not safe for you here.“ 

During that time agent Sharon Carter kept Steve and Bucky informed but Bucky had a really hard time. „She’s still sleeping. You are not missing anything.“ She assured him. 

When you woke up you were greeted by non other than Tony Stark itself. He read a German magazine. „Do you understand what you’re reading or are you just looking at the pictures?“ 

He looked up and grinned. „Really nice pictures. But I also get help with the translating.“ He pointed to his high technology-glasses. 

„How do you feel?“

„Exhausted but okay.“ 

You looked around and you saw James standing in the door frame. „James“ you whispered, reaching out for him. „I’m so relieved that you’re fine.“ Bucky looked at Tony who faintly shook his head indicating that you were still oblivious about the fight in Leipzig and the separation of the avengers. 

„What happened after I passed out?“, you asked

„You mean after you got shot.“, Tony corrected you. 

„Why did you pack?“, you ask James, forgetting the last question you just asked. 

„I’m leaving for Wakanda. They offered me to free me from the mind control and I’m gonna take that chance.“

„Take me with you. I want to be with you. I can’t imagine a life without you. Please, James.“ 

He looked you deep in your eyes. You could see how he’s debating on the inside. „Okay.“ And he kissed you passionately. 

Tony didn’t like that idea at all. „Okay, lovebirds. We better should look for a doctor to sign the release papers and you can rest a bit more.“ He ushered Bucky out of your room and when the door closed he let go of his facade.

„You can’t take her with you. Thats really selfish of you. She’s kid. She can’t throw away her life for you. She is not your psychologist. You know exactly what you are. You’re a murderer. Nothing will ever change that. You’re destroying her life. And you don’t care because after all you will always be the winter soldier. Nothing will change that.“

Bucky looked at Tony like he just got slapped. „I know who and what I am. I will never be good enough for her. Yeah, maybe I’m selfish taking her with me but I can’t imagine a life without her. I love her and I will protect her. I promise.“

„But can you protect her from yourself?“ 

As you packed your belongings James waited outside your room. „You don’t have to go with him. You don’t need to throw your life away. You don’t owe him anything.“, Tony stated. 

„I’m not throwing anything away. He’s my future. He’s anything I’ve ever wanted. Wakanda will be an adventure and I’m ready to take it.“

Tony suppressed all the things he wanted to tell you. He hugs you and said instead. „If he hurts you in anyway, call me. I’ll come and get you.“ He caress your hair and without noticing he took a single hair of you. He needed to know who you were to him. He couldn’t ignore his curiosity anymore. 

Chapter 6

@inlovewith3 @jackiehollanderr @homesicam @dreamydreamerwriting @losers-club6 @gengen64 @agentsofsheilds @crimson-darling @akkinda10 @xemine @bubblegumholland @chipilerendi @iamasimpingh0e @bbmommy0902 @madddiiee26 @teenagedreams-bucky @aya-fay @idontknowwhatthisisfam @w-wolfhxrd @useless-creature-213  @angywritesstuff @supernaturalcat7 @harrys-stan @geek-and-proud

[vanillasakura]

IT’S FINALLY HERE <3

I first got into Red Dead around late July or so when I watched my friend and her dad speedrun the game, and one of the first things I came across for this fandom was Sapphic Week, so I’m very very happy to be able to contribute this year, especially as I’d be lying if I said the lovely ladies in this game weren’t the main reason I initially got into it and ended up buying it for myself.

Once again, a HUGE shoutout to @rdrsapphicships and Aldrig for hosting this event! I’m so excited to see what everyone creates <3 Without further ado, let’s get into it!

RDRSW21 Day 1: Music 

Title: Close Your Eyes (As it Eats at Us)

Words: 1857

Pairing: Abigail Roberts/Molly O’Shea

Warnings/Notes: Slight John bashing I’m sorry but this takes place early chapter 2 so... slightly warranted 

(Title from Close Your Eyes by The Midnight Club)

ao3 link

  ≿━━━━━━━━━━༺❀━━━━━━━━━━≾

Don't you know, when your eyes are closed, you see the world from the clouds along with everybody else?

Indeed, Molly was on her own much of the time. Dutch could only afford her so much attention, and when he was away from camp or otherwise occupied, there wasn’t anybody who really came up to her on their own will. Not exactly like she could blame them, Molly wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. Growing up, she’d always assumed otherwise, but after seeing how Karen and Tilly had told her to stop coming up to them and “being a bitch for no good reason”, she began to wonder if everyone back home was nice to her because they had to be. Even if Molly herself wasn’t a picture-perfect example of politeness, being anything but an angel to the O’Shea daughter could have been considered blasphemy. 

It was lonely, terribly so, but Molly wasn’t quite sure what she could do to remedy the situation. She wrote poetry, she read books, she went on walks in circles around camp, she looked out over the valley (Horseshoe Overlook really hadn’t gotten its name from nowhere), but more than anything, Molly watched.

She watched how Reverend had gradually stopped bothering pretending to read the bible, instead choosing to start downing drinks earlier and earlier. She watched how Bill devoured Kieran with his eyes, all but confirming her suspicion that the man did indeed want to bed the new camp member. She watched how Karen would clench her jaw when Mary-Beth asked how things were going with Sean, but would then take his hand later and pull him out of camp, the pair slipping away to either do each other or to do nothing at all. She watched how Arthur hadn’t bothered to take down the photo of the woman who did nothing but cause him pain even after Hosea had told him to do so, instead still glancing at it longingly every now and again while he cleaned his guns in his tent. She watched Josiah practice speaking in all sorts of different accents on the outskirts of camp, correcting himself out loud whenever something wasn’t quite right. She watched how Jack would try and weave flower crowns for his mother, small hands shaking as he attempted to tie the stems of various blooms together, putting the ones he had broken too short or knocked a petal off of in a pile to his left. She watched how John admitted to Javier and Pearson that, if he could, he would kill Abigail and never think twice about it. 

The comment shouldn’t have startled Molly as much as it did. She knew that John was a good man deep down, but the way that he uttered the confession without so much as a second thought as to if what he was saying was okay made her sick. Abigail was nothing if not kind, hard-working, and strong, nothing like the type of woman you would imagine deserved those kinds of threats. What made John that angry at her, Molly didn’t know, and she wasn’t quite sure that she cared to. 

After that night, Molly didn’t just stop watching. She’d heard people say worse things, many times, but there was something about the raw earnesty in which John had spoken that made his words haunt Molly like nothing else had. She decided to start watching Abigail more, justifying it by telling herself that it was for the other woman’s safety, even though realistically, there wasn’t much protection that Molly could offer her. 

And one of the first things that Molly noticed as she began watching Abigail was that the woman could sing. 

Abigail had this habit, whenever she was sitting in her tent on her own while working on something that needed to be done, where she would hum a tune, letting her own voice pop in here and there with the words that she knew. It was an uncoordinated affair, but it was never intended to be anything but. 

It was also adorable.

So adorable, in fact, that Molly decided that maybe she didn’t just need to watch anymore, maybe she could actually go and sit with Abigail. After all, much like her, Abigail was alone, more often than not. What harm could come of it?

“You need any help?” Abigail looked up from her work, pausing her humming as Molly stood by her, close, but not so much so as to suffocate the other woman. 

“Didn’t know you offered that.” Abigail responded, expression unreadable. 

“Hasn’t been something I’ve extended before.”

“With all due respect, Miss O’Shea, I don’t need anyone’s help if they only do so because they take pity on me, especially someone who ‘isn’t anyone’s servant girl’.” Abigail’s eyes turned cold, her brow furrowed, and Molly felt anxiety beginning to set in. 

“That wasn’t my intention whatsoever, I just…” she trailed off, and Abigail cocked her head, “I just don’t want to be alone. Is it okay if I enjoy your company? Just for a short while.”

Abigail sighed, chewing on her lip. “I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t know that feelin’ all too well. Truth be told, you’re the first person who’s come up to me in weeks.”

“I have no idea why that is, though.” Molly picked a sock out of the basket by Abigail’s feet, grabbing a needle and some thread along with it. “You’re such a nice person, it truly is a shame that others don’t recognize it.”

“ ‘Nice person’? Miss O’Shea, you hardly know me.” 

Molly felt the same dreadful wave of anxiety begin to rise inside of her again. “I may not have talked to you much in the past, but I’ve watched.”

“Watched? Me?”

“I watch everybody.” Molly admitted, stabbing the cotton with her needle. “Although I must confess, I do enjoy watching you. I know that isn’t exactly polite, though.”

“You’re right in that it ain’t, but I suppose I’m a hypocrite, so what does my opinion really matter?”

“You, a hypocrite? How so?”

“Gets lonely when nobody comes up to make conversation. Sometimes, you’ve gotta get your fix by watching others.” Abigail laughed. “You never really feel like a part of the group, but it can help alleviate the pain sometimes.” 

“Have you ever seen how Karen and Sean sneak off all the time?” Molly asked. “Lord only can imagine what shenanigans they get up to.”

“If I know either of them, they’re probably finding some tree to fuck up against.” Abigail said, a smile appearing on her face. “Although, on second thought, maybe not, given what happened at his welcome party.”

“At the welcome party? I guess you must have seen something I didn’t. Mind sharing?” Molly asked, her interest thoroughly peaked. 

Abigail snorted. “Well, you saw how the two of them were all over each other that night, right?”

“Would’ve had to be blind as a bat to not have.” 

“Well,” Abigail continued, “at some point, I saw the two of them go into John’s tent, and given my proximity to them, it wasn’t hard to hear what was bein’ said and fill in the gaps.”

“So they slept together at the party? Can’t say that I’m quite surprised.” Molly tied up the thread as she reached the end of the tear, reaching for a handkerchief to work on next. 

“They sure did, but that ain’t the good part.” Molly watched as Abigail’s eyes laughed, full of a mischief that she had never seen present before in her usually quiet companion. “Sean has got to be the quickest quick shot I’ve ever seen, and given my history, that’s sayin’ somethin’.”

“No.” Molly covered up her mouth, stifling a laugh. 

“Yes! Poor Karen never even got hers, it had to have been the most pathetic thirty seconds in her entire life.” Abigail smiled, and Molly’s heart twitched. Why?

“Thirty seconds? Wow, if that’s so, then maybe they aren’t all over each other when they go out, and you’re right.” 

Abigail laughed, smiling at Molly. “Well, who’s to say, I’m not sure there even is such a thing as a constant when those two are involved.”

“You may be right there.” Molly puffed one of her cheeks out, trying her best to figure out what to bring up next. She was having a lot of fun, she should do this more often, especially as Abigail also seemed to appreciate the time they were spending together. “Okay, now is it just me, or does Bill look at Kieran a little too often for it to be considered friendly?”

“Oh, it’s not just you, no worries. I’m just a little surprised that out of everyone, he decided to be sweet on Kieran.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean, he’s nothing like the kind of men Bill’s been sweet on in the past.”

Molly stopped in her tracks. “Wait, you’ve known about Bill before this?” 

“Yeah, it ain’t that hard to figure it out if you know what to look for.” Unable to gauge Molly’s reaction, Abigail continued on. “I mean, I don’t have a problem with it, whatever makes you happy makes you happy, y’know? And if that means lovin’ somebody of the same sex, I sure as hell don’t see a problem with it.”

“We’re in agreement there.” Molly smiled, going back to her work, her heart beat now more palpable. “I mean, as nice as it can be to see everyone here fall in love-”

“Or lust.” Abigail interjected, a smirk on her face.

“Or lust, that’s true-- I still think that my favorite person to observe is you.”

“Hm? And why is that?” Abigail still had that smirk on her face, raising an eyebrow. “What about me is so interesting that you’d prefer to watch me than whatever the latest addition to the Sean and Karen saga is?”

“I, uh,” Molly flushed, suddenly aware of what she was saying and how weird it could be considered. “I just, I like watching you hum and sing whenever you work. Something about it is just, I dunno, very relaxing.”

Abigail clicked her tongue. “You really do notice a lot, huh?”

“Yeah.” Molly replied sheepishly.

“I guess it’s only fair that I tell you that I find watching you write poetry is quite calming.”

“You saw me doing that?” 

“How could I not? Both of us do a lot of watching and thinking, we’re both very similar in that regard.” she said, unbothered by Molly’s embarrassment. 

“I’m… glad, you can find comfort in something that I do.” Molly settled on. 

“The more we talk, the more I’m beginning to think that I just find comfort in you. Somethin’ about you just makes you easy for me to talk to.” Abigail smiled. 

“The same goes for you.” Molly sighed, nibbling on her lip. “We should do this more often. I’m having a good time.”

“So am I.” Abigail agreed. “It’s much better to be with you than to be alone.”

“It really is.” Molly shifted a bit, turning more towards Abigail. Maybe working wasn’t so bad after all.

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - Buying MC A Gift

– Zen –

For years, Zen dreamed of buying his love a classic, dainty necklace, romantically delivered in a box all wrapped up in a silk bow. And now he has you! A chance to fulfill this boyfriend dream of his!

He tends to kind of, enforce an image of cuteness on you, even if it’s not your aesthetic. He just likes his love to be innocent and girly. It’s okay if you’re not, he loves you just as much. But when he buys you things, it almost always swings in that direction ‘cause he’s a little unconsciously stubborn like that. 

So he checks his savings and decides that, yep, he’s got enough to splurge a bit, and buys a gold heart necklace. It wasn’t luxurious, nor designer, it was just this teeny 24k gold pendent on a gold-colored chain. The best he could afford at the moment. He asks the store to gift wrap it with the most ‘romantic ribbon’ they have available.

The two of you go on one of your many lunch dates, where Zen has to tuck his hair underneath a hat to make sure the both of you aren’t hassled, and you eat sandwiches with coffee in a cute little shop. 

He slides the box over to you, and there’s this huge smile on his face when you open it to fawn over your gift. 

“It’s only a small thing, but I hope you like it. One day, I’ll be rich enough to afford what you deserve, jagiya.” 

He reaches over and pulls your hair aside to put it around your neck. You touch it with your fingers. It’s all just like his old fantasies. Zen’s romantic dream #35329 fulfilled!

Romantic dream #35330 was when you eventually mentioned to someone in passing, “Oh this necklace? My boyfriend bought it for me.” He just about melted. 

– Yoosung –

For many years, Yoosung didn’t have much money to his name. But he still wanted to buy you gifts because he couldn’t stop thinking about you? Every day he’d daydream about the two of you, about what kind of stuff you’d like to do?? He’d pass by windows of shops and think, “Would MC like this?”

Once he decided to start giving you gifts, he’d kind of freak out a bit because he was worried he’d give you something stupid. He googled for ideas, and talked to Zen, but couldn’t decide what sort of trinkets to shower you with. 

He couldn’t afford good chocolates, and he didn’t know how to buy clothing for another person without going up to you and being like, “Oh, by the way, MC ... what’s your shirt size? Asking for a friend - wait no that’s not what I meant -”

One day, he walks into a bookstore to shop for more mechanical pencils, and by coincidence found large selections of gift items. There’s scented candles! Creative desk toys! Gag gifts of flavored bubble gum and imported mints! 

He ends up choosing what he thought was the cutest. You’d like cute things, right? Cute stuff is universally cheery, so he’d thought you’d enjoy the character-designed set of highlighter markers. 

Turns out that yes, you did enjoy them, and he puffs up with pride all day because yay!! He did a boyfriend thing!

His later gifts were of similar caliber, like sticker sheets or pretty notepads. And later, he finally branches out of the bookstore and looks as jewelry, chocolate boxes, and flower bouquets. Regardless of what he chose, you always loved them. 

– Jaehee –

Most of her ‘gifts’ tend to be of the practical bend. Like stuff for the house both of you end up using, or a set of nice socks because she remembered you mentioning that you needed to replenish your stock.

Not the most romantic gifts, but arguably more appreciated because of how useful they were. Jaehee’s your Functional Adult™ girlfriend and it brings you plenty of joy.

But sometimes she’s compelled to be more whimsical. Her job at C&R didn’t leave her with nothing, and the cafe’s been going so well her wallet’s been more stacked than ever before. So it didn’t take much for her to walk into that gourmet chocolate boutique and purchase a sample box of their best truffles.

Managing your own small business means evenings are usually free. You and Jaehee enjoy a homemade meal, and settle down to drink some beer and watch dramas. Before you can relax completely, she goes, “Oh, I remembered something,” goes to the bedroom, and walks out with a small paper bag. 

“Just a little thing I bought earlier today. I saw it and thought of you.” You opened to reveal your chocolates, your smile making Jaehee’s eyes light up.

You insisted she share them with you, but she refused. She got a smaller box especially to avoid you wanting to share a portion with her. The two of you share most of her gifts already, this is intended to be for you and only you.

So instead you enjoyed your chocolates, biting them in half and showing Jaehee how the chefs filled each one, and discussing the flavors. It gave her inspiration for a new seasonal mocha blend for the cafe!

– Jumin –

Rip in fucking pieces your old commoner life. If a month doesn’t go by where Jumin doesn’t try get you at least two designer items, the world is ending. 

Salvatore handbags. Jewelry from Prada. Balmain dresses. Vuitton shoes. Gourmet boxed strawberries, giant influencer sets of luxury makeup, oh Valentino is producing these cute teddy bears for some reason? Here’s five. 

He’s pretty unpredictable about it, too. Some days, he comes home from a business trip with only one piece for you, for which you’re almost thankful for the lack of a heart attack. And sometimes, he just ups and gets you a car or something, or five new Saint Laurent blouses.

Depending on who you are, it can get pretty overwhelming, or even troubling. All this worth sitting in your room, and is it even towards a productive cause? You remember the days when your family had to struggle with debt and insurance and student loans, you think of all you know who have to deal with eviction and EBT cards, you think of those who starve or die from sickness because they have no money.

You try to explain to Jumin that all this excess is so ... it’s too much. “But my love, I just want to spoil you,” he says. 

 “Then spend more time with me. Don’t blow all this money on material things. I want you.”

That’s a harder thing for Jumin to grant. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to his work, and it’s an internal struggle for him to forgo his crowded schedule to make room for you. 

But it’s a gift that rewards you both. Jumin’s time clears up a bit more, and he stops trying to bury you in luxury you don’t need. You get to wake up next to him more, and spend afternoons and evenings and nights with him. It’s the best gift he could ever give you. 

– Saeyoung –

No, this is not a shitpost. This boy gifts you a fucking gun. Which, depending on who you are, could even spark an argument where Saeyoung insists strongly that he just wants to keep you safe. Carrying guns is highly illegal in South Korea, but since when did Saeyoung care about the law?

You woke up one morning to Saeyoung already five hours deep into his work, because his sleep schedule is still fucked up even though he’s no longer part of the agency. A strange black box was next to your handbag, and you opened it to reveal a small plastic pistol with ammo cartridges. 

“It should be small enough to fit in your purse. Keep the safety on unless you want to shoot. Stay safe, baby - S”

Saeyoung already gives you crazy gifts of robot cats, automatic night lights, talking dolls, and even at one point a taser. But this was crossing a line. If you got caught with this in your purse, it’d be a legal disaster. 

Now granted, Saeyoung didn’t actually intend for you to be carrying a concealed firearm whenever you go to the cornerstore to buy milk. He just kinda thought it’d be an extra precaution during more troubled times. Being slightly sleep deprived and hopped up on soda at the time didn’t help his decision making. 

You wait until he leaves his hacker den to testily shove the gun under his nose and demand an explanation. He pleads his case, and tries to insist that he was only thinking of your safety.

If you’re not comfortable carrying the gun around, he helps you tuck it away in an accessible part of the bunker. 

“Please, baby, just let me know you’re protected.” He hugs you, and you thank him for his thoughtfulness. Even if its a bit weird. 

– Saeran –

His Ray alter would have scoured the globe for anything you asked of him. Saeran today still wants to spoil you as much as he can. Which, as his life slowly stabilizes, begins to grow in opportunity.

Like his brother, he makes tech for you. Mostly software, such as tricking out your laptop to have firewall defense that no money could buy, or hotwiring your phone to run quicker and faster than new.

His money begins to flow in from freelance work, and he starts to look for more classically romantic gifts. First, it was bouquets of flowers he’d surprise you with, then it was little wrapped boxes of macaroons, and then he would shop for crystal jewelry and expensive perfumes.

He wanted to pursue that ‘princess’ image. He no longer tried to force you into it, but instead let it inspire his romantic bent. Every holiday or occasion that allowed for the slightest excuse for gift giving, and he was guaranteed to give you something or another. On Chuseok, he gave you a silk shawl. For Halloween, it was a large box of decorated sweets. On Christmas, it was a pressed flower pendent. New Years was a smart watch that he reprogrammed. 

And on random occasions, he’ll still come home with a large bouquet of carefully arranged flowers, or perhaps a new potted plant to decorate the house. 

You always reward him with a kiss, and it makes him feel really appreciated. A bit of loving normalcy in his otherwise troubled life. 

– Jihyun –

While Jumin tends to be very ostentatious with his wealth, Jumin is a lot more reserved. He may not buy you Chanel coats on a whim, but he still shells out quite large amounts of money for dinner at a fancy restaurant, or a beautiful hand-printed silk scarf he bought while working in Shanghai.

When he buys you smaller gifts, he picks up things from co-ops and other independent, artsy places, usually while he’s running other errands. He’d be shopping for kitchen gadgets and touring the wellness section, and he spotted this beautiful set of bath salts that he’d thought you enjoy. Or, he’s on his way back from the gym and passed a natural produce boutique, and saw a gorgeous gift box of unique tea mixes. 

He’s a believer of sustainable living, so most of what he buys he tries to put his money towards ethical practices. So if you’re getting something from him, expect it to be natural-grade, vegan, fair-trade, etc. Whether its a bag of candied oranges, or a pearl necklace. 

He likes to be spontaneous with his casual trinkets, and traditional when it comes to occasions. You never know if he’s gonna come back from grocery shopping with a scented candle for you, but it’s for sure that he’s got some special bracelet or hair barrettes for Valentine’s. 

To him, these are all just evidences of his newfound peace and tranquility. There’s nothing like being out and about, seeing something, and being able to go, “Hm! I wonder if my love would like this?” So it propels him to buy it and test out the hypothesis. And it almost always results in your smile, which to him is the best reward.

[ambistep]

Rangers & Regenes, pt. 2

(this is stupid long and mega indulgent, everybody is out of character im certain, engage at your own peril. highly non-canon. Part 1)

“Barolthien unveils the dazzlingly radiant cthon-crystal, the prize you claimed from the storm-dragon’s hoard - and turns it over to the Elf Prince. The Elf Prince smiles and takes it gratefully.”

“‘Thank you, heroes, I’ve everything I need to complete the ritual.’”

Daniel cuts in, “Wait, I thought we were trying to stop the ritual.”

“I knew it,” Julia clicks her tongue.

“You did not!” You huff.

“I so did, this always happens.” 

She isn’t wrong. So what? “Anyway. The Elf Prince clasps the cthon-crystal in his hand and the illusion magic falls away - the green and flowering courtyard of the palace is replaced by a smoldering and burnt ruin. The Elf Prince’s form gives way to gleaming obsidian armour and with gold filigree, and the familiar visor of the Ebon Champion of Vak’Tsaroth.”

“Ricardo is not impressed, he’s got his axe ready,” Julia leans forward, nudging Daniel. 

Argent reclines on the couch, mostly watching the television, but occasionally calling over, as now, “Did we get betrayed by the elf guy?”

Daniel puts his hands on his head, “He was an illusion.”

“‘He crushes the cthon-crystal and completes the ritual with the power released, growing in size and obvious power until he towers over even the mighty Ricardo. ‘I owe a great debt to you so-called heroes! I could not have come this far without your unwitting aid but I’ve not the patience for you any longer.  Before the lunar eclipse and my impending apotheosis, I intend to rectify the insult you paid me in Wickhamshire. I will bathe this courtyard with your blood, a sacrifice to my godhead. When my wrath is sated, and I’ve seized my place in the Heavens, I will remake this world, and set right it’s many inequities - maybe I shall spare one of you as witness, so that when all is done, you may finally realize how wrong you were to oppose me.’” 

Ortega raises her hands in surrender, “Ay, alright - enough with the monologue! I get enough of that on the job - that’s not even the corniest one I’ve heard this week.”

You take the jab as a compliment, “Well, I have been practicing a lot lately.”

At that, Argent, sitting over on the couch, almost chokes on her donut, snickering. Ortega looks over toward her, then back at you, “What does that mean?”

“Nothing, Ortega, Jesus.” Angela waves it off, “Whatever, I’m doing a power attack.”

You sigh, “We’re not in combat yet.” Grabbing the handful of player dice, you tumble them over, check the numbers, “Rolling initiative and… okay, fine, Aurum, you’re up.”

She’s back watching her movie, “I’m doing a power attack!”

“Alright, hold on. ‘Aurum is faster than the Ebon Champion, and her ki strikes land true, but the sacred armor of his fel god holds fast, bristling with new magics and protections.’ You hit, but he’s only taking four damage.” You’re rewarded with a sarcastic, silvery middle finger. 

“And the Champion takes his turn, attacking Aurum - she’s in range and just power attacked so…” A tumble of the dice, “He hits, ‘The Champion’s greatsword is swifter than ever, and bites hard on the monk’s exposed flank, tearing open a ragged gash,’ and Aurum is down to 3 HP.”

She puts down her donut, “What? That’s bullshit! I took that Iron Skin thing.”

You get to be a little smug - it’s more fun when she gets irritated, “That’s like one damage resistance.”

“That’s stupid. Shouldn’t call it *Iron* Skin then.”

Maybe she has a point. At any rate, have to keep the combat moving, “Ricardo, you’re up.”

Julia looks up from chatting with Herald, then stands up, “Alright, I’m gonna wrestle him.”

“You mean grapple?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna grapple the Ebon Champion.”

You remind her, “He’s like twice as tall as you, and super strong right now. He’s all hopped up on crystal magic.” Daniel starts to look a little concerned.

“I don’t care, Mina, Ricardo’s no fucking coward, we’re wrestling.”

“Fine, fine,” you know there’s no stopping her, so you roll the dice, “A failure, ‘Ricardo the Barbarian is easily overpowered by the towering black knight, his armor crackling with sorcery that augments his strength.’”

Julia scratches the back of her neck and shrugs a little, seemingly satisfied. 

“Alright, Blackhawk’s next and since he’s not here-”

“Hold up, Mina,” Ortega reaches over the conference table, pushing a button on the intercom.

A voice over the speaker, “Steel here - go ahead, HQ.” 

“Chen!”

“Ortega, this -” He pauses and you can hear his suit adjusting as he moves about, “This better be important, I told you I’m helping the Guardians with Alvarez’s security detail.” 

Julia leans back in her chair, hands folded behind her head, “It’s absolutely important, it’s your turn, we’re in combat - so what’s Blackhawk doing?” Poking at Chen like this, Ortega lives for it, You can’t help but enjoy it too.

“Ortega, this is an emergency public safety channel. I told you I was going to be busy - Clarity could show up any moment.” 

Argent locks eyes with you, flashing a wry, toothy grin. You shrink in your seat and make yourself small. You’re a little proud though - Chen maybe sounded worried. A little bit.

“I’m sure you’ve got it under control, Marshall,” Ortega circles around the conversation, “Back to the matter at hand.”

Steel is quiet for a moment - you can tell he’s relocating again. Finding somewhere more isolated to talk? “Fine. What’s the situation?”

“We’re fighting the Ebon Champion.”

“I thought he was dead.”

“No, no, he got the crystal and he’s big now.”

“You let him have the crystal?” The channel goes quiet, and when Steel keys back up, he’s whispering, “I have to go talk to Alvarez. Just, I don’t know, cast Blessing or something.”

Ortega cuts the intercom and sits back in her chair, gesturing to you. You shrug, settling back in, “Alright, Blackhawk invokes Blessing of the Grove, you all get +1 to checks, saves and threats. Barolthien’s up.”

Daniel has his folder open and is looking over his character sheet, and checking the tables he’s printed. “A-alright. I’m advancing to melee range, and I’m… I’m going to swiftcast Acid Touch.”

“Barolthien’s getting up close with him?” You look for confirmation.

He looks to Ortega for reassurance. She shoots him finger guns and feigns innocence when you start eyeing her suspiciously. Daniel nods.

“Alright, that’s a touch attack,” a quick roll, “And that’s a 14, a miss.”

There’s a cough, Ortega interjecting. “No, it’s not.” 

“What? Why not? That’s only a 14.”

Julia leans forward over the conference table, grinning like the cat who ate the canary, “Yeah, but your guy is flat-footed.”

Here it comes. You grimace, “Why would he be flat-footed?”

“He was grappling.”

“You failed to grapple him, remember?”

“Doesn’t matter, he was still grappling.”

Your eyes flit to the left, then the right, trying to remember, “That can’t be right.”

Daniel watches the two of you with anticipation, following the back and forth. Argent yawns, flopping to her side on the sofa, even as Ortega pulls up a PDF on the conference table projector, “It’s in the book. See.”

It is. Heck. You slump in your seat. “I can’t believe someone else actually read the book. You’re right, it hits - the armor is magic and gets a save and...” Daniel watches you expectantly, waiting for the resolution, “...fails. ‘Barolthien’s caustic magics -somehow- eat the Ebon Champion’s blessed armor, corroding and consuming, leaving a hissing green haze. He howls in rage.’”

Daniel breathes a sigh of relief, jostled by Ortega’s slap on the back. “Aurum’s tur-”

She doesn’t even look up this time, talking around a chocolate-covered pretzel, “I’m doing a power attack.”

“Should have guessed.” You roll the dice for her and… of course, “he’s flat-footed until his next turn, and he has no armor, so that’s a hit and… And because of the Blessing of the Grove - nice work, Chen - that’s a crit.”

Ortega, smug as ever, points out, “Don’t forget, she’s got Savage Critical too.”

You grimace, “So Aurum does triple damage on the armorless, flat-footed Ebon Champion and… he’s down.” Stupid Rangers. Stupid Ortega. “‘Aurum’s blows strike true, with improbable force and - you get the idea, he’s down.”

Argent passes by you on her way to get more snacks, mumbling, “I want his sword.”

“He’s not dead yet, he’s just down.” You clear your throat, “The Ebon Champion sputters and coughs in repose, ‘This is not the end, you think you’ve won this day - but the ritual is complete, and the eclipse still nigh. Know then tha-’”

“In repose? He’s laying down?” Argent cuts you off, standing over your shoulder with a bowl of more chocolate pretzels and M&Ms. She holds it out for you - and the sustenance is appreciated. Maybe the chocolate will stave off this migraine.

“Yeah, I… I guess.” 

“I coup de grace him.”

“What? Now?”

“Yeah, I coup de grace him, fuck him.”

You put your face in your hands, “How do you even know that’s a thing?”

Argent shrugs, “Ortega told me.” Of course she did. Julia laughs into her hand, relishing in your torment.

“‘Aurum executes the Ebon Champion with her bare hands, I guess-’”

“I take his sword.”

“You’re a monk.”

“I take his sword.”

“‘She takes his sword. A blood red moon passes in front of the sun, casting the palace grounds into darkness. You get the feeling that the Ebon Champion was probably going to say something important, and that this isn’t over, but maybe it is. Who can say for sure? Not me, I’m done.’”

You take the opportunity to stuff a few pretzels in your mouth and fold up your screen, stretching. Julia stands up at her seat, putting a hand over her heart, narrating, “Ricardo strokes his mustache thoughtfully, proud of his companions and the teamwork they displayed. He totally hopes they learned some important lesson about working together tactically, so that Blackhawk doesn’t think this was a total waste of time.”

Herald throws his hands up in celebration. Argent mumbles, “Whatever.”

There’s a migraine coming on, and sure, the Rangers got their man, but… well, maybe it was a little fun. “Next week?”

Ortega shakes her head, “Mission next week.” Good to know - thank you, Ortega. “Two weeks.” Two weeks it is then.

[morallygreyprompts]

Yay on your trip by the way! What about a hero sidekick who is doing actual harm, and both the villain henchman and the hero are trying to stop them, while the Villain is intrigued and trying to convince them to switch sides?

Ask 117

The timing for that ask has been crazy because I actually head off today. I’ll be at the airport when this gets posted. I hope you like what I’ve come up with. I did my best to keep with what you’re ask requested but I fear I didn’t quite stick to it ^^’ I think a continuation would serve this one well.

Hero cornered Villain’s Henchman and gave them no room for escape. What Hero didn’t understand was why they didn’t seem to be that afraid, if anything, they were more worried about whatever was behind them. They kept looking over Hero’s shoulder and biting their lip, but no one was there. Hero had come alone tonight.

“I’d like an explanation,” Hero said simply. “Why do you all keep running away from me? Are you really that scared of me?”“Don’t flatter yourself,” Henchman scoffed, clenching their fists. “Not one of us fear you. You’re soft… Where’s that sidekick of yours at? Wherever you go, [Sidekick] is never far behind.”

“Sidekick?” Hero said softly. “You’re afraid of them?��Henchman blinked. “Are… are you telling me you have no clue about what they’ve been doing?”“They’re rougher than me, but to the point where you all run away?”“Are they here?” Henchman asked again.“No. I asked them to keep an eye on-” Hero stopped themselves before they gave away tonight’s plan. “They’re not here.”

Slowly, Henchman began to talk, and for every person they talked about, their confidence grew that Sidekick was not around. “[A] had their legs and arms broken, [B] wound up paralysed from the waist down, and [C]… They tied them up in a warehouse and used them as target practice and a punching bag. Needless to say, they didn’t survive. That’s only the tip of the iceberg, [Hero]. [Sidekick] doesn’t deal with us like how you deal with us…”

Hero froze, thinking things through. Henchman’s face fell at whatever sickening realisation Hero had come to. “What?” Henchman asked quietly, “What is it?”

It had taken Hero far too long to realise what kind of person Sidekick was. “I asked them to watch [Villain]… I was going to meet up with them later and make an arrest.”

Henchman’s blood froze in their body. “They’ll kill them,” they breathed. Hero didn’t have time to react as Henchman grabbed them by the collar and turned them around, pressing them against the wall. “You have to stop them! Get in contact with them now, please. They’ll kill them!”

Hero, wary of deceit, slowly took out their phone and called them, waiting for a response. For a moment, Hero thought they weren’t going to answer. Once they picked up, Hero decided to put them on loudspeaker. Henchman’s grip eased, but they did not let go entirely.

“[Hero], what are you doing?” Sidekick hissed. “You trying to get me caught?”

“Sorry,” Hero said. “I thought I’d seen [Villain] creeping about. I had to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m fine.” Their tone suggested they were so much more than fine, happy, perhaps. Had they really made a move and grabbed Villain? Were they dead? Henchman’s grip tightened again. They wanted to know if Villain was alright.

“So you still have eyes on [Villain]?” Hero asked, raising their chin ever so slightly as Henchman’s knuckle pressed into it.“Oh yes… They’re not going anywhere.”Hero and Henchman exchanged nervous glances. “I’m going to come and meet you now, I’ve got a bad feeling about tonight and I don’t want us getting jumped.”

Sidekick sighed heavily. “Alright. Same spot as before.”Hero decided not to point out the fact that Sidekick was not meant to have moved from where they’d left them. That’s certainly what it came across as.

Hero was about to hang up when they heard a strangled cry, it sounded like someone shouting through a gag, but the phone immediately went dead.A few seconds later, they got a text. I’m ok.

“They’ve got them,” Henchman breathed. “They’ve got them!”“Not for much longer… Come with me, I won’t let anything happen to you, but if you want to help your boss,  you’re going to have to trust me.”“I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you, but I have to help [Villain].”

Hero looked down at Henchman’s hands, still wrapped around their shirt. “Right,” Henchman said quickly, letting go. “Right…”“Let’s see if we can find them, alright? Then we can find [Villain].“

___________

Sidekick kicked Villain until exhaustion stopped them. Villain lay curled up and defenceless, their breathing shallow and weak and coming out in the sound of shakey whimpers. “Please,” they rasped.

“I’ll be back,” Sidekick growled, dragging them into the corner by their shirt and tying them to a metal ring secured to the floor. With their hands tied behind their back and their legs tied together in two places, there was no way for them to stop a final stomp on their stomach. Villain cried out but their body stayed mostly limp.

“You should be careful doing that,” Other Villain spoke up. Sidekick turned sharply to see Other Villain standing by the doorway, two well-built bodyguards at either side. “Breaking ribs so carelessly, it can lead to internal bleeding… and I don’t think you’re ready for our dear [Villain] to die yet, are you?”“Help me,” Villain wheezed, “Please. [Other Villain], you have to help me…”

“Actually, I don’t.”

Villain choked on a mewl as Sidekick’s hand retreated back to their belt for their gun. Other Villain raised a calming hand, “Oh, there’s no need for that. I’m not here for conflict, only… I’m curious.”“About what?” Sidekick ground out, starting to pace from side to side.“Why someone with so much power, so much influence, would hide behind [Hero’s] shadow?”

Sidekick shrugged, “Hiding means I can do it all the more.”“And restrict yourself,” Other Villain grinned. “[Sidekick], I’d like for you to think very hard about what I have to say: I want you to join me, help me irradicate vermin,” Other Villain cast a long glance to Villain’s motionless form, “like them. Clean up the streets once and for all.”

“You’re vermin just the same,” Sidekick retorted, “why would I side with you?”“We have a common cause, destroying my competition would benefit both of us. In return, I can give you resources, much better places for you to do your dirty work in secret, and promise you safety. A temporary arrangement, I’m sure you’d understand, but a good one.”

Sidekick was hesitant to speak, but their pacing stopped. Other Villain smiled, “How long do you intend to keep up this charade? It’s obvious that you’ve a thirst for blood. Most would call you evil for it, a villain.”“And you?” Sidekick wondered, furrowing their brow.“I say you’re… effective in what you do. You already have the masses cowering in fear, why stop there? You could finally regain control of your city. All I want is a finger in a few pies, and for [Villain] to survive long enough to tell me a secret or two.”

“Money,” Sidekick tutted, “It always is money with you.”“And with you, it is always bloodlust- vengeance!” Other Villain withdrew a contract from their blazer pocket. “These scum fill you with so much anger, don’t they? Unleash it! All you have to do is say yes. Hand [Villain] over to me, and suddenly all of your work will be made so much easier.”

Other Vilain offered them a quill but no ink. Another glance down to Villain and Sidekick understood. Their blood…

“You’re not getting [Villain]. They’re mine to kill.”Other Villain laughed, “Oh, I’m not protecting them. Far from it. All I want is information. If you can draw it from them, then be my guest to be the interrogator. But for now, all I want is for them to be alive and able to speak.”

Other Villain leaned forward, “Do we have a deal?”

[blackfreethinkers]

Sunday service had just ended, but Noah Tillman-Young called his small congregation back for another prayer. Shots had been fired at a rural church just down the road — a church a lot like theirs.

As his 30-some parishioners stood in a circle asking God for protection, something changed for the pastor of Joyful Heart. An act of mass violence in his Stockdale, Tex., church was no longer unthinkable. Ten miles away, 26 people were dead at First Baptist Church in Sutherland Springs, the deadliest shooting at a house of worship in the country’s modern history.

That night, Tillman-Young and parish leaders held a vigil for their neighbor church. The next day, they decided to arm their own.

“It’s nothing you ever imagine could happen, but when it hits so close to home, you have no choice — you can’t ignore it and you have to prepare,” Tillman-Young said. “It’s the reality that houses of worship are increasingly becoming targets.”

With a new team of private security officers and an armed corps of volunteers, Joyful Heart joined the wave of small and midsize places of worship adopting security measures to gird against the rising threat of violent attacks.

'This community will heal': A small town mourns an enormous loss Residents of Sutherland Springs, Tex., grappled with the mass shooting that took 26 lives from the community in November 2017. (Alice Li/The Washington Post) While there is no definitive tracking of shootings or other attacks on houses of worship, several researchers and the federal government have documented a significant rise in targeted acts — particularly those with high death tolls.

FBI statistics show a 35 percent increase in hate crimes at churches, synagogues, temples and mosques from 2014 to 2018, the most recent year for which data is available. The nonprofit Faith Based Security Network found a 60 percent increase in “non-accidental deaths” at such sites from 2014 to 2017. And of the 88 people killed in mass shootings at places of worship since 1966 — defined as incidents in which four or more people were killed — more than half the deaths came in the last five years, according to The Washington Post’s mass shootings database.

This spike has prompted several state legislatures to write or revise firearm laws to make it easier for people to carry guns in houses of worship.

Since the Sutherland Springs shooting in November 2017, lawmakers in 14 states have introduced 40 bills, according to a Post analysis using Quorum, a database of state and federal legislation. Several are still being debated and six have been enacted, from Louisiana to North Dakota.

In the first weeks of 2020, legislators, most of them Republicans, have introduced 13 bills allowing armed security in places of worship. The flurry of lawmaking began just days after a gunman killed two people in late December at a church in White Settlement, Tex., before an armed volunteer shot and killed him. The volunteer’s action won praise for a state law that allows parishioners to carry firearms.

Laws under consideration in Florida and Missouri would allow anyone with a concealed-carry permit to bring a firearm into a religious building. In New Jersey, a proposed law would allow houses of worship to select one person to carry a handgun for security. And in Virginia, Republicans have introduced four bills to repeal a law that bars the carrying of weapons in a place of worship “without good and sufficient reason.”

Experts say that churches, synagogues and mosques, with their typically welcoming environments and looser safety measures, can make for easier targets, especially as businesses and schools ramp up security. But more places of worship are turning to surveillance equipment and armed guards, especially volunteers from the congregation, who blend in and save the parish money, said Carl Chinn, president of the Faith Based Security Network.

Chinn and other security consultants said they’re getting more inquiries from nervous congregations. Business is always busier after a shooting, and Chinn said recent incidents were “a wake-up call.”

“Churches are waking up to the fact that the way to stop a bad person with a dangerous weapon is a good person with a weapon and training,” he said.

Gun-control advocates balk at the idea that more weapons will create safer spaces, and others suggest that armed security — especially volunteers — may actually bring more risk.

“Whenever firearms are present, there’s always room for error and the possibility that the guns which are intended to protect become liable to endanger,” said James Densley, a criminal justice professor at Metropolitan State University in Minnesota. “Arming parishioners so they can make the kind of split-second decisions that police get wrong worries me a little bit.”

But Chinn, who has tracked the use of deadly force in churches since 1999, said he hasn’t seen an instance in which innocent people were hit by a volunteer’s gunfire.

“There’s risks anytime you have defenders,” he said. “Of course, the risk is that innocent people might get hurt. But here’s what I tell people: That has not happened. We shouldn’t get wrapped around the axle of ‘what ifs.’ It’s not even comparable to the number of times people were hurt and nobody was there to protect them.”

Security teams can minimize the risks by training often and schooling themselves in more than firearm marksmanship, said Steve Padin, a retired police officer who is a chief consultant for the Watchman’s Academy, a church security firm.

The volunteers that Padin sees, mostly men, often have a background in the military or law enforcement. And when they don’t, Padin said, they need to learn to think like those who do.

A well-trained security guard should be versed in de-escalation and disarming tactics, be able to recognize suspicious behavior and be ready to act quickly, said Padin, who travels the country training security teams at churches and synagogues.

“You should not get to the point where you have to use a firearm,” he said.

At Beth Tikkun Messianic Fellowship in Akron, Ohio, Vic Agosta and his small team of volunteer security guards huddle outside the sanctuary before Saturday service. They all carry guns, and every weekend they pray they won’t need to use them.

Agosta helped form the team eight years ago, when the congregation of 200 was growing quickly. Agosta, who is a lineman for a power company, doesn’t have a background in law enforcement or the military like some of his fellow volunteers. But he does have family in the pews, including a daughter with cerebral palsy who uses a wheelchair.

“Just the thought of someone coming into a service of ours and opening fire on us,” he said. “My daughter couldn’t run for cover.”

In Ohio, places of worship must give permission before attendees can bring in concealed handguns — a restriction that Agosta, a Second Amendment advocate, supports.

“I think you should be able to carry a weapon, but I like the control that private entities have, like churches or places of business, to say who can and cannot carry,” Agosta said.

His church asks congregants to leave their guns at home and trust in the security team.

“We don’t want you to carry,” Agosta said. “But we’ll protect you the best we can.”

At Grace Fellowship, a small born-again Christian church in suburban Omaha, Greg Eckert runs a volunteer team with four other men. He’s recruiting more volunteers from the church’s 97 members, but some have trouble passing his test. It has two questions: Will you give up your life for the congregation, and will you kill for it?

“It sounds like a silly thing to ask for a Christian believer, but God doesn’t lay down for that stuff,” Eckert said. “There were people in the Bible who had to kill at God’s command. If they can’t answer yes to that, I don’t want them.”

He requires his team to practice shooting once a month, and he tests their accuracy four times a year, keeping their bullet-pocked targets on file and dated. In Nebraska, only designated security personnel are permitted to carry concealed handguns in houses of worship — and only if the leadership has given permission and informed the congregation.

“I don’t believe any church should be just an open-carry-type situation,” Eckert said. “But I don’t think it would be prudent to have a law that you could never carry in church, either.”

Outside New York City, which has its own gun laws, New York state has no laws prohibiting firearms in places of worship. And parishioners are better off for it, said Jim Woods, the head of security at the nondenominational Niagara Frontier Bible Church, not far from the famous falls. He’s one of 10 volunteers who greet newcomers at the door, keep an eye on the parking lot and carry a weapon.

“Years ago, it wouldn’t even have crossed my mind [that] you would need to defend yourself in church,” Woods said.

One of the most notorious attacks at a place of worship was the 1963 bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Ala., where Ku Klux Klan members detonated dynamite, killing four children and injuring 22 people.

Since then, attacks at places of worship have been divided into two categories: hate-fueled assaults and those related to domestic violence. Both types are increasing in frequency and deadliness, said Densley, who also co-founded the Violence Project, which tracks mass shootings.

In 2012, a neo-Nazi killed six people at the Sikh Temple of Wisconsin, south of Milwaukee. Three years later, a white supremacist hoping to start a race war killed nine at Charleston’s Emanuel AME Church. And in 2018, anti-Semitic online screeds were connected to the man accussed of bursting into the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh and killing 11.

These were some of the deadliest and most high-profile shootings at American houses of worshipBut more common are shootings that are extensions of intimate-partner violence or domestic disputes, like the massacre in Sutherland Springs. In those cases, Densley said, the shooter is usually a member of the congregation.

“We’re often afraid of the stuff we don’t know and don’t understand that’s outside of us, when really the biggest risk is right in front of us,” he said.

At Joyful Heart Church, the new security measures have also inspired Tillman-Young and his wife and fellow pastor, Allison, to look inward. They’ve spent more time getting to know their members and their families.

“When you’re in the community, you see those red flags, and you see them before they come to a head and get ugly,” he said. “That kind of intentional connection, that relationship, showing people love — it helps to prevent that kind of stuff.”

But more than looser gun laws and armed guards, Tillman-Young said it’s his faith that makes him feel safe.

“We’re packing,” he said, “but we’re also packing the power of God and trusting in God to keep us protected.”

[fanfic-scribbles]

Mouthy Broad

Fandom: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky try to go out on a date only to get waylaid by some pathetic wanna-be vigilantes. There are no words for how fucking stupid this is. You’re going to try to find some, regardless.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Side story for “On the Run” (though I put in enough info that you don’t have to read that first), abrasive/sarcastic Reader, language, sex joke, established Bucky/Reader, Reader and Steve have a friendship based on friendly antagonism (they don’t actually hate each other they just act like it), Reader recovering from traumatic event.

Words: 2470

A/N: The idea made me laugh, and then when I wrote it I got infected with feels, so here, have the fruits of my labor. A little one-shot for “On the Run” that takes place after that series, though I did my best to make it comprehensible to people who don’t wanna go through a sixteen part series to understand a 2k+ story. I think it worked, but only time can tell.

“On the Run” Masterlist Here (if you’re interested)

This is some bullshit.

You open your mouth to say just that when Bucky lifts his hand. “Please, whatever you’re going to say, just…don’t.”

You scowl at the back of his head. It’s impossible for him to see you, since he’s too busy trying to crush you between his back and the wall. Still he says, “I know. I know.”

You let out a sigh and try to make yourself as small behind him as you can. This was supposed to be easy. You and Bucky have been cohabitating for a couple of weeks now and aside from the new luxury rent-free digs courtesy of Tony Stark, you’ve been getting on as you always have. Well, mostly. Getting kidnapped and tortured would make anyone shy about leaving their heavily-fortified house, (‘house’, ‘giant tower protected by superheroes and mad genius, to-may-to, to-mah-to), and you’re still in the land of New Relationship Bliss. Getting dressed and going outside will always be less fun than sitting in your PJs on the couch with Bucky, alternating between making fun of whatever you’re watching and just plain making out.

Living your best life indeed.

Still, you don’t plan to play Rapunzel forever. You intend to get a job and you’d like to go outside without looking over your shoulder constantly. You’re very aware of why you avoid going out and it has made you more determined to get out on the town. Fuck Hydra; you’re not going to let them get to you so much that you stay inside eating snacks forever. So you decided, while having a particularly good day, that you and Bucky were going to go on a date in the outside world, dammit.

(Because after accomplishing that you can stay inside eating snacks forever if you want but with a sense of superiority, which really makes all the difference in the world.)

So earlier you basically told Bucky ‘get up asshole we’re going to see a movie and get dinner,’ (okay maybe not ‘basically’ maybe it was ‘literally’; what do you know), and with a remarkably light amount of grumbling, he got dressed and presentable and you both went out with the best of intentions.

Only to get crowded down a side street and trapped in a loading dock by a bunch of idiots with guns. For fuck’s sake, it’s barely even dark out and these guys are just–

“Let the girl go, Winter Soldier!”

You poke your head out. “Hey dickweed, the only danger to me is you and your wanna-be vigilante dickweed friends!”

Bucky hisses your name. You huff and go back into hiding. Admittedly, you’ve seen enough guns to last a lifetime, thanks, but these morons are…well…morons. Also, young, which is probably the only thing saving them from Bucky’s lethal force. Once they started tossing around ‘war criminal’ accusations Bucky went heavy on the defense while you have never wanted to punch someone more in your life (with maybe one exception).

“An idiot with a firearm is still an idiot with a firearm,” Bucky says and lets out his own sigh.

“Among other things,” you mutter. You peer around him again. “Hey! Idiot Number One!”

Idiot #1 looks around like you must be talking to someone else. Idiot #1– with a bullet. “Who, me?”

“Yeah, you! Barry with the Bad Hair–” Seriously, this fucker looks like he stepped off the off-off Broadway stage for “Amadeus”. “Where’d you get the cell signal blocker?”

Bucky says your name like he’s trying to talk himself out of knocking you unconscious. Or maybe he’s reconsidering who, out of the two of you, gets to be the human shield. Whatever it is, it definitely involves Bruce’s breathing exercises.

Idiot #1 pats his hair self-consciously and then scowls at you. “I’ll answer that if you tell me why you’re standing behind the Winter Soldier.”

“Deal!” What a fucking moron.

He nods like he has any sense of dignity or decorum when the only reason he and his friends are conscious is because they have murder tools and you are soft and squishy and have no sense of self-preservation. It was even on your list of ‘Cons’ for your ‘Going Outside’ list which you are clearly going to have to revisit.

“Let’s just say a friend of the people has a vested interest in shutting down Stark–” he tries to spit on Tony’s name but it’s a bit too drooly and oh god this is pathetic and gross now, “–tech.” He swallows and points. “Now you.”

“Well I was out on a date and some asshole morons started waving guns around so this jerkwad shoved me here to help keep my cute ass sans bullet holes.” You flip your hair. “Sorry; I’m on a ‘no lead’ diet.”

“That’s not– I didn’t s–” He turns a little red when he realizes, yeah, that is what he said. “I meant why are you defending him?! He’s a killer!”

“And you waving a gun around is just for funsies? Does it pop out a flag that says ‘bang!’?” You probably come off a little too angry, given the way Bucky squeezes your arm reassuringly, but really, ‘sick of this shit’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“We are correcting an oversight of the law,” Idiot #1 says, sounding so snooty it’s almost unbelievable that some butler or nanny isn’t coming to collect him for bedtime. He’s not your main concern anymore though. The kid to your extreme left is shaking like a leaf and you can’t really see, but you doubt he’s practicing proper gun safety.

“Hey, Judge Dredd.” You point at Shaky. “If you’re not out to get innocent people shot then maybe tell Hair Trigger to lay off, yeah? The guy’s just as likely to shoot you as he is to shoot us.”

Idiot #1 looks over and sighs, like his friend is just being embarrassing and not like he’s being embarrassing while holding a deadly weapon. It’d serve him right to get grazed by friendly fire. “Jerry, we talked about this. If you can’t–”

“No, I– I got this,” Shake-us Maximus says and takes a deep breath. He steadies only slightly. “I got this!” He looks like he’s imagining a music swell play under his triumph. You can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Oh my god!” Token Girl gasps. “They rolled their eyes at the exact same time!”

What a shock, that Bucky would also find that lame guy super lame. Idiot #2 has a giant Adam’s apple that you can see move with his swallow. He stammers, “Wha-what if she’s an android designed to be an extension of him?”

You burst out laughing. “Wow! Wow.” You can’t form any other words at first. They come eventually. “That is the dumbest conspiracy theory I have ever heard, and I once went on a date with a moon-landing denier.” That’s a fun memory. By comparison. “You think I’m some high-tech ventriloquist dummy?” Though you think maybe, considering the circumstances and relationship, ‘Real Doll’ might be a more accurate comparison. You poke Bucky. “By the way, sorry to disappoint, but fisting is not an achievement unlocked on a first date.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters and squishes you more against the wall. “Why do I always find the tiny idiots who want to fight everything? Why is this my life?”

“I am not tiny,” you say. “Take that back.”

Bucky looks at you, and then looks at himself. “You’re not bigger than me. And you don’t know how to fight. So, yeah– tiny idiot.”

“I swear to god if you are lumping me in with Steve again I’m going to dump your ass on your own couch.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and looks back at them. But you cross your arms and add, “Maybe one of these losers will let you sleep on theirs. Maybe you can find out what’s killing their brain cells that they think this is a good idea.”

Bucky sighs a little more roughly. “Can’t you be serious for five minutes?”

“With guns pointed at me? Fuck that; if I’m going out I wanna make it hard to pick out which zinger goes on my headstone.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment, stealing little glances at you. Then he spins and pins you to the wall so securely that you have to take shallow breaths. “Bucky?”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you. All right?” he says, keeping eye contact and staying almost in kissing distance. You could close it if you want, but you’re honestly not in the mood. Which blows because Bucky shoving you up against the wall is supposed to be really hot.

“Don’t– don’t turn your back on them, you idiot.” You try to push him back but he just presses his forehead to yours.

“Shh,” he says. “Don’t look at them, don’t listen to them. Just focus on me. People like that’ll kill your brain cells if you’re not careful.”

The Brooklyn is coming out strong, which normally only happens when he’s relaxed. However, you find yourself at a loss to make fun of him for it. Well, right now, anyways. “Seriously, turning your back on a bunch of guns? You’re not Steve; you don’t have a shield to turtle under!”

“Oh my god, is that Captain America?!”

You blink and peek as the Armed Idiot Brigade start to fan over an annoyed and cautious Steve Rogers.

You lean back against the wall and consider. Well, it’s worth a shot. “You’re not rich; you don’t have a million dollars waiting to rain down on you!” You wait. Nothing. Drat. Bucky huffs and you shrug as he lets up. “Hey, can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Oh, are we interrupting?” Tony says as he floats down in his suit.

You smirk at Bucky and he rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t count,” he says.

“Eh. Close enough,” you say and look around the combined wall of Tony Stark as Ironman and Bucky Barnes as Moron Who Thinks His Metal Arm Is the Same as a Suit of Armor. Thankfully, Steve has negotiated the idiots into at least lowering their weapons.

“I’m confused,” Tony says.

“It’s okay. You just look like a million bucks, Stark,” you say and flash him a smile.

“Only a million?” he asks as though mortally offended.

“Fine. A thousand.”

“But–”

“Keep going and it’ll be a hundred.” You smooth out your clothes and go back to paying attention to the goings-on. Steve is talking to Idiot #1 and looking like he’d rather deal with anyone else. It’s sort of hilarious already. “Hey Steve! I will be nice to you for an entire day if you punch that guy!”

Steve immediately looks thoughtful. “An entire day?”

“Wh-what?!” Idiot #1 goes pale and jerks back. “Y-you wouldn’t!”

“Twenty-four hours, no more, no less,” you say and delight in the way the little asshole shakes. Good. Let him be terrified for a few minutes. Fair is fair.

“Hey, if you knew her like I do then you’d be tempted too.” Steve takes one step, not even giving any real weight to it, but Idiot #1 falls on his ass. His friends stand around, stunned. Well at least they won't shoot Captain America.

“But– but you hate bullies!” Idiot #1 whimpers.

“Yeah. I really do.” Steve kneels down and rips the gun away. The weenie gasps and holds his hand. Please. Steve has stolen a pack of cookies from you with more force; there’s no way that hurt. “I really hate watching a group of people aim weapons on a couple just trying to enjoy a nice night out.”

Idiot #1 stammers, but shuts up when Steve holds up his hand and stands. “I’m not a cop, so I can’t read you your rights, but the authorities are on their way, so you might want to stay quiet regardless.”

At that, the idiot minions try to run. Tony lifts up and drops down in front of Shaky. Natasha creepily appears in front of Idiot #2, and Token Girl jumps back with a shriek when she almost slams into Clint. You take count of the guns lying on the ground and you finally, finally can breathe again. Once they’re all secured Tony takes off with whatever they used to block your call for help, muttering something about…hammers? You don’t really care, as long as Pepper doesn’t blame you for him locking himself in the lab again. You maintain that hovering coffee cups seemed like a really great idea at the time.

Anyways. Due to the motive, the intended victim, and the dumbasses’ previous loud claims to be vigilantes, the morons are going to be taken into SHIELD’s custody rather than the police’s. Coulson’s creepy bland smile freaks them out, which you approve of, and after taking statements and grabbing the evidence, he and Steve go off together talking about how they’re going to scare them straight, which you whole-heartedly approve of.

However at the end of it all you’re frazzled, hungry, and wondering why you thought leaving your room was a good idea.

“Hey.” Bucky slides his arm around you and you lean into him. “We missed the movie but we can still get dinner.”

It sounds good in theory. Everything is fine now, you’re starving, and Steve can’t crash your date to ‘chaperone’ like he threatened to when you left the tower earlier. You want to, you really want to…

…but what if something else happens?

Bucky looks at you like he knows what you’re thinking. Or maybe he’s zoning out and running through his own doomsday scenarios. It’s hard to tell with this guy, sometimes. Eventually he says, “I got an idea,” and pulls you along to where Natasha and Clint are talking. They look up when you approach and Bucky says, “We’re gonna hit up that diner near the tower before we head back. You two wanna join us?”

“Oh, I love that place!” Clint says, eyes bright and wide until Natasha elbows him.

“We don’t want to crash your date,” she says, looking at you.

You like where Bucky is going with this, though. “You’re not; we’re inviting you.”

“All right then,” Natasha says with a nod.

“Yes!” Clint says and falls in next to you as you walk, Natasha on his other side, and Bucky on yours. “They have the best pies, let me tell you…”

And he does, much to your amusement and Bucky and Natasha’s annoyance. You all settle into a booth and Natasha starts ribbing Clint, as is right and normal. It feels a little less like a date and more like a night out with friends, but when Bucky’s hand settles on yours on the cracked vinyl bench, you think that taking baby steps might be all right after all.

Tag List: @howdoesoneadult​ @grey-stardancer​ @projectxhappiness​ @jadepc​​ (If you don’t want to be tagged just let me know; thought this might be relevant to your interests :) )

[evilsapphyre]

Pairing meme #10, Shenko

Shenko / #10 “Teach me how to play?”

Apparently the muse chose my TSP Shenko… and set it between ME2 and ME3… which is divergent from the actual game quite a bit.

——

It still felt a bit strange to him, sitting on a couch in her apartment, as they ate out of Chinese cartons. He saw her practically every day, when they met for her requisite training, but of late, he saw her twice, when he inevitably stopped by to bring her dinner. They’d share a meal, in relative silence, and he’d eventually head on to his own place. It was all rather domestic of them.

And Kaidan could tell Alexis hated every bit of that.

Her blonde hair fell across her shoulders, against the pale grey sweater that was clearly too large for her. She tucked her legs underneath her, all while holding her chopsticks like she intended to stab him with them at the first opportunity. That ought to have terrified him, yet he couldn’t help but chuckle about the circumstances.

She raised an eyebrow, her blue eyes narrowing, as she jabbed the contents of her carton. “What’s so funny?”

“Just…” He put his own carton aside, next to the half drank beer on the coffee table. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the moment, so he chose his words carefully. “Amused by the situation.”

She scrunched her nose, like she did whenever she disliked what someone was telling her. It was rather cute when she did, but he wasn’t about to say that either. “Well, there’s nothing amusing about me being locked up here.”

“One,” he reached for his beer, taking a swig of it. “You’re not being kept here against your will. You’ve been given leave to go wherever you want.”

She took another bite of her food. “On the base. With an escort.”

“It’s a precaution.”

“It’s insulting.” Setting her carton on the table, she took a long drink of her own beer. As insulting as she thought it was, she knew all the reasons why the brass enforced the escort and kept her on their grounds. After what happened to her, they were taking no chances with her safety. His gut twisted as those dark thoughts flitted by. “Besides which, half of the places I want to go to, I’m told no.”

“Such as?”

“The range. Last time I tried I was refused.”

That much made sense to him. She liked her guns, always had. He was sure that there was a reason for the restriction initially, but she had been on Earth for a couple of months now. There was a good chance they could lift that restriction now. “I can try to talk to someone then. See if I can get you access.”

“Don’t bother.” With a huff, she leaned back against the couch, arms crossed under her breasts.

He ignored the insult that her words conveyed. Everything about her situation was difficult to say the least. He didn’t blame her so much for rejecting the help, but it was frustrating. Part of why she was here was because she needed help. He wanted to be part of that for her. “You need a hobby then.”

She scoffed at the notion, refusing to look at him. “Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How about cooking?”

“Cooking?” There was an incredulous note in her voice, matched by the arch of a brow.

It wasn’t a terrible idea. Kaidan knew from past experience that she didn’t really cook, just based on how she handled Julia. “What, don’t tell me you enjoy eating out all the time?”

“No, but I’ve never had the patience for it. Nor the desire.” She shook her head, the blonde hair swaying against her shoulders. “Besides that’s more Ella’s thing.”

He opened his mouth to counter that point, but he decided against it. Kaidan never truly understood the intricacies of the Shepard relationships, which obviously included calling carte blanche on certain activities. It was time to start reaching for other ideas. “You could catch up on your reading?”

“I can’t read all day. That’s going to drive me even more crazy.”

That was the problem. She was going crazy because all she had before this happened was her work. He knew that. The only thing that she ever really gave herself to other than the Alliance was to her music, a problematic subject to be certain. Still, perhaps with the mandated therapy, it was an option again. “Have you thought about…”

“No. Absolutely not.” The words came as if she read his mind. She couldn’t. That was the part she didn’t say, and he didn’t need to hear her say those words. He knew that much, and he was an ass to even try to bring it up. Even now, he watched as she flexed her fingers; he wasn’t even sure she was aware she did that whenever anyone mentioned music to her these days. Balak robbed her of a great many things, including two years of her life, but the loss of her music had to be one of the most egregious of offenses. It had been her passion, her place of calm, and her connection to her father.

It was important to her, and just like that, it was gone.

“Alright, well,” he paused as he tried to think of anything else that she’d like. It shouldn’t be so difficult, but her Alliance career had taken priority over everything for so long. Not to mention, that despite the connection, the feelings between them, they never got a chance to really share much of their personal lives prior to, well, everything. “Hell, Alexis, I’m not sure what to suggest. Unless you wanted to take up one of my hobbies.”

With a shake of head, he took another bite of his food, hoping he managed to cover his own frustrations about the situation. The last thing he wanted was to make things more difficult, for either of them, and with as quiet and still, as she had gotten, he really suspected that he may have pushed the wrong buttons. One of these days, he would manage to do things right.

A single hand reached up and raked itself through her blonde hair before she reached back out to her food, her blue eyes intently upon him. “Like what?”

“Like what, what?”

“What’s one of your hobbies?”

Oh, hell, he had been mostly joking about that. It wasn’t like he had much time for them these days between work and her. Not that he minded; she was more than worth that sacrifice. He shrugged a bit. “Well, as you know, I do rather enjoy taking apart tech, learning more about how it works.” There was an immediate scrunch of her nose that made him laugh, earning a dark look from her. “Oh, don’t worry, I recall that you and tech don’t get along. Apart from that, I enjoy playing strategy games. Like chess, Risk, and even Mech-Tech.”

“Mech-Tech?”

He chuckled a bit as she looked to him, her brow furrowed as she regarded what he said. “It’s a game where you control a group of giant robots and set out to destroy one another. You have to maneuver around the terrain, gauge your resources, and sometimes pray for a bit of luck. You know, you would probably really enjoy it.”

There was another stretch of silence as she returned to eating, stabbing at the contents of her carton. Knowing his luck, she was looking for a polite way to turn him down. At least he could console himself with knowing that he tried.

“Could you…” Her voice wavered a bit, as she broke the silence, still staring at the Chinese food in her hands, “Teach me how to play?”

Had she actually been nervous to ask him that? Was it really that difficult for her to reach out, to ask for help, of any sort? Would it have been that difficult before? He pushed aside those thoughts as he scooted a bit closer to her, setting his own food aside. He placed a hand gently on her forearm, ignoring the way she stiffened underneath the simple contact. Another thing that they would work on - in time. “Of course I will.”

[lasvegasshootingrange]

Shooting Range Basics: A Guide for Beginners

Shooting Range Basics: A Guide for Beginners

              Shooting Range Basics: A Guide for Beginners– If you’re interested in learning how to shoot, a gun range is the best place to get some practice in and receive feedback, advice, and instructions from experts. However, it’s important to remember that shooting ranges can be dangerous, and that guns are weapons, not toys. That’s why it’s a good idea to do a bit of research before you go to a range. If you have even a small idea of what you can expect the experience to be like, you’ll feel more prepared and more confident. Here’s a breakdown of the shooting range basics that all beginners should know!

  While Safety is Always a Priority, Every Range is Run Slightly Differently.

  The first thing all shooting range rookies should know is that different shooting ranges have different rules, rates and fees, policies, and safety procedures. When you’re at a range, you have to follow all of that range’s rules and policies, no exceptions! Just because something was done differently at a shooting range you have visited previously doesn’t mean that’s okay to do at every shooting range.

Similarly, some of the language around gun parts and shooting techniques might vary from one range to another. It’s okay to make mistakes, but make sure that you pay attention to the specific rules of the range you’re at, or else you risk getting in some serious trouble.

At gun ranges, safety is the ultimate priority, and even a small slip-up can be a huge liability for the shooting range, and if the range gets in trouble with the government, there will be fewer resources available for people to practice shooting. Bottom line: pay attention to the specific policies of each shooting range, and understand that there will be consequences for your actions.

Study Up: Prepare for the Shooting Range Before You Go.

              While shooting ranges are safe places for inexperienced shooters to learn, you can imagine that it would be less than ideal if everyone showed up the range completely clueless. We suggest preparing for the shooting range in a few different ways. First, whether you have a specific shooting range in mind or are stuck between choosing one of a few different options near you, it’s a great idea to look up reviews that past visitors have left online.

Check out each range’s website, look at pictures, read up on policies, fees, and packages, and look for testimonials that people have left. If you can’t find any reviews on the website, look for reviews on Google, Facebook, or Yelp. Most ranges are incredibly welcoming and all good environments for beginners, but if you find any information that makes it seem like one shooting range is the perfect place for you while another might not be, go with your gut.

Aside from looking up the specific policies and experiences for certain shooting ranges, it’s always a good idea to look up different models of guns. Most shooting ranges will either allow you to bring your own gun, ammo, and other equipment or provide equipment that you can rent by the hour.

If you don’t own a gun of your own, it’s probably a good idea to look up the models of firearms that each range offers. If you can’t find specifics, try and look for websites or articles that break down some of the most commonly used beginner firearms so you have an idea of what to expect loading, firing, and cleaning a gun to feel like.

Another way to get prepared for the shooting range is to simply ask people around you for advice. If you have any friends or family members who have practiced shooting, that’s a great resource to take advantage of.

Having someone to discuss this with in person is often more helpful than looking up testimonials on line, especially if they own a gun of their own and might be willing to show it to you or let you hold it (unloaded, of course! Please note that we do not endorse letting untrained people borrow your firearms).

Of course, not everybody has a person like this in their life, and that’s where the Internet can be a great second choice.

Follow the Rules Like Your Life Depends On It, Because it Does.

              As we said before, the number one priority of every shooting range is safety. That’s why each range has laid out a specific set of rules. It’s imperative that all visitors follow those rules to a T to ensure that all the visitors can have a fun, safe, and enjoyable experience.

You can expect some of the details of the rules to vary from one shooting range to another, but there are certain things you can expect to be constant. For example, here are some of the most common shooting range basics:

  Nobody is ever allowed to shoot while under the influence of alcohol or other drugs.

Handle every gun as if it is loaded and ready to fire, even if you know it is unloaded.

Keep the gun unloaded until instructed to load by the range master.

Even if the safety is on, keep your fingers away from the trigger until you want to shoot. This is a very common rookie mistake and is almost guaranteed to result in accidental misfiring, which is extremely dangerous.

Never point the muzzle at anything you don’t intend to destroy – that is, aim down range only. Never aim the firearm as a joke. Pointing the gun at the ground is usually a safe bet, but you must understand that firing into the ground, while definitely preferable to firing at someone else, may cause the bullet to bounce or fly off in unexpected directions.

Eye and ear protection are required at pretty much every shooting range, as well as sturdy, closed-toe shoes. This is because target fragments or brass bullet casings might ricochet in unexpected directions.

“Cross-firing” is a term that refers to firing across your assigned lane at a different lane’s target. This is strictly prohibited. You must fire only down the assigned lane at your assigned target and at nothing else, including the ground.

Not only must you know the specific target, but it is important to understand that everything that is around or beyond the target is in danger of coming in contact with the bullet or bullet fragments.

At all times, guns must be carried with the breach open and unloaded (except for loading and shooting). Guns must also be held in a safe position so that the barrel is under your control even if you trip or stumble.

Guns may only be fired from a person standing at the firing line and only once the range master or safety officer gives the all-clear.

The range master or safety officer is the only person with the authority to dictate when the range is open or closed. (At the end of the session, you can expect the range master or safety officer to inspect all weapons before you leave the firing line and collect ammo so that the guns are unloaded.)

Anyone who is not shooting must wait in the designated viewing area and not step near the shooters. This is not only for their own safety but to prevent the shooters from getting distracted.

Any individual who breaks any of the range rules or is not following the proper technique will be corrected by the range master or safety officer. A person whose behavior is deemed dangerous will be removed from the range.

When in doubt, ask for help! This is one of the most important rules on the list!

  Don’t be too Embarrassed or Shy to Ask for Help.

              Anybody who goes to the shooting range might be there for a variety of different reasons. Some people want to learn to hunt, some want to shoot competitively, others want to feel like they can defend themselves and might be planning to go on to get a license to carry a weapon.

Some people might be simply be looking for a fun new activity or challenge. No matter what the reason, you can expect people of all different skill sets to be practicing at the range at any given time.

It’s important not to be overly competitive or arrogant when you shoot – this can be extremely dangerous. Similarly, if you ever want to double-check the rules or have questions about the technique, don’t be afraid to ask! It’s better to risk a few moments of potential embarrassment than to learn bad habits or risk putting yourself or the people around you in danger.

We guarantee that range directors would much rather answer an inexperienced shooter’s questions than have to deal with safety hazards.

            Along a similar vein, you should expect to receive feedback, criticism, and corrections, especially if this is your very first time shooting. It’s okay to be embarrassed or flustered – that’s what the range master is for: to help you learn.

Don’t be upset if you are told that you are doing something wrong – as long as you’re being polite and willing to learn, the range master is not “out to get you,” they simply want to help you improve your technique.

Simply listen to the feedback and apply the corrections, and don’t be afraid to ask questions if you don’t understand something. Learning bad shooting habits can not only harm other people around you, but might result in harming yourself, especially if you are not positioning yourself to prepare for kickback, for example.

  Practice Makes Perfect. 

            If you’re serious about shooting, just one or two sessions at a casual, open-to-the-public gun range is not likely to be enough. If you really want to learn how to shoot and are considering someday owning your own gun, you should make time in your regular routine to practice.

It might be a good idea to invest in a monthly or yearly shooting range membership, which will offer you discounts and other benefits like private sessions (of course, the details of memberships can vary from one facility to another).

            Remember that the staff at shooting ranges are experts, and it’s a good idea to ask them any questions you might have if you’re interested in taking the next steps towards owning a gun of your own.

The staff can recommend what instructional courses are next to you and are going to be familiar with the local gun laws and licensure procedures of the area, so they probably will be able to give you some pointers about what the process for applying to own a gun is likely, as well as what type of gun would be best for you to own.

For example, wanting to have a gun hidden in your house to protect your family in the case of emergencies is a very different scenario than wanting to get involved in competitions or game hunting, and you can imagine the types of guns that are best for each situation will vary widely.

  Have Fun!

              It is our hope that this brief overview of some common shooting range basics has helped you to feel more comfortable in anticipation of your visit to the shooting range. It’s okay if you’re not sure what to expect, but doing a little bit of research beforehand can make a world of different. Remember to have fun, listen to the rules, and try your best to improve. Good luck!

The post Shooting Range Basics: A Guide for Beginners appeared first on Las Vegas Gun Range & Firearms Center.

from Las Vegas Gun Range & Firearms Center http://www.lasvegasgunrange.net/shooting-range-basics-a-guide-for-beginners/

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

I'm not a huge horror movie fan, but I would love to see a Skimmons Zombieland AU! Something funny/scary, with maybe one of the avengers doing the bill murray cameo thing?

Happy Halloween! I mean…happy first of October.

Thanks for the movie suggestion! I figured it would be a perfect way to kick off my 31 Days of Horror Movie Ficlets (I need a better title I guess?)

Check it out below the cut or all ficlets will also be posted on AO3! {x}

Movie: Zombieland

Soundtrack: “Salute Your Solution” by The Raconteurs

“So, Daisy Johnson,” Jemma intones in a serious voice, asclose to the newscasters that she remembers from when the news was actuallyrunning, “you finally made it to California. What’s the first thing you’regoing to do?”

“Well…” Daisy draws the word out, as though contemplating heroptions, “probably sleep for twenty-four hours straight.”

Just to punctuate her point, she takes a running leap andjumps onto the king-sized bed in middle of the room and, of course, it feelslike heaven. She even bounces just a little, sighing contentedly as she sinksdown onto the mattress. And is that…ugh yes…a down comforter. “Jemma, you have to come feel this,” Daisy sighs,patting the space on the bed beside her. “I don’t know if I’ve ever feltanything so amazing.”

Jemma smirks but she climbs into bed beside Daisy. “I’m sureyou’ll say the same thing when you finally take a shower.”

Daisy’s eyes grow wide. “A shower,” she breathes. “Do youthink the water still works? Do you think it’s still hot?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Jemma says. “Look at this place. Imean compared to the other places we’ve seen, it looks practically perfect.”

Daisy had thought the same thing when they’d finally settledon this house. Or, well, house might not be the right word to describe it.Mansion is far more fitting, given the three stories and the basement levelthat Coulson and Ace are currently exploring. She feels a little nervous being separatedfrom Ace, seeing as they haven’t been apart since this whole apocalypse andzombie drama started but she trusts Coulson enough to hope that Ace is safewith him in this large, perfect, unexplored house.

“I mean…it’s a little weird, right?” Daisy says, frowningslightly as she studies Jemma. “Maybe it’s just not as bad over here.”

Jemma doesn’t say anything but Daisy can see the skepticismin her face. They’ve driven halfway across the country and they’ve seen enoughdeath and destruction to know that it’s bad everywhere. Honestly, Daisy hadn’teven realized that there were other people still in the world until she’d runinto Coulson and then, days later, Jemma. She’d never intended to join up witha group; there were too many unknown factors when you added other people intothe equation and her priority was Ace and trying to get him to California andhis aunt’s house. She’d promised Mike that she would look after him. Butsomething about Coulson and Jemma…it had seemed easier to let her guard downaround them. With Coulson, Daisy had just desperately wanted someone else totake charge for a little while, to look after them and do the protecting. Andwith Jemma…well.

With Jemma, her thoughts are definitely not zombie apocalypserelated.

“Maybe we should investigate the shower situation,” Daisysays, though she makes no move to leave the bed.

Jemma nods. “Maybe we should.” She doesn’t move either.

Daisy smiles. “Maybe in a minute,” she relents. “I’m just sofreaking comfortable.”

“It has been a long time since we slept in a bed, hasn’t it?”Jemma says with a sigh of longing. “Not that I haven’t been enjoying thebackseat of the car.”

“I mean forget sleeping in a bed,” Daisy says, “how long hasit been since you had a real, nice shower? Or had clean clothes? Or actual hotfood?”

Jemma rubs her stomach, groaning. “Don’t talk about food.”But there’s still so much of the house they haven’t explored so thepossibilities…her stomach rumbles at the idea.

“Maybe Coulson can finally find his Twinkies.” Daisy grins.

“I’m sure he’s searching for them right now,” Jemma says.

“He can have the Twinkies,” Daisy says, “but I call dibs onthis bed.”

Jemma gives her a playful shove. “Excuse you. We found thisroom together.”

Daisy lifts an eyebrow. “Looks like there’s room for two,”she says.

Okay so she’s feeling bold here in this bedroom, in an actualhouse, where she doesn’t feel like she has to be afraid for her life at thisexact moment.

Jemma smiles at her. “So it would seem,” she says. After apause, she adds, “I’m glad that our paths crossed. You know…safety in numbersand all that.”

Daisy nods. “Oh, of course.” But she’s smiling and so isJemma and maybe it’s not so terrible after all, to be here after the world hasended on a really comfortable bed in a giant house with Jemma here beside her. “Youknow, I’m-”

The sound of floorboards creaking immediately causes Daisy tofall silent. She and Jemma both sit up in unison, looking toward the openbedroom door. Her heart is already hammering in her chest and she immediatelymisses the way she had felt just seconds before: safe and content and a littlelike she was falling in love with the woman lying beside her.  

Now none of that stuff really matters, seeing as there’s apossibility they’re about to die a horrible zombie related death.

It could be nothing, of course. Could just be Coulson or Ace.But Ace is never quiet, at least, not quiet enough to sneak down the hallway.

Daisy slips off the bed and Jemma follows suit, both of themreaching for their weapons of choice: Jemma, the gun she always keeps withinreach; Daisy, the baseball bat she’d left leaning against the wall.

They step into the hallway just as the zombie rounds thecorner and they both scream in surprise, though the noise is quickly drownedout by the firing of Jemma’s gun. The bullet catches the zombie in the chestand it stumbles backward, snarling.

“Double tap!” Daisy says, hefting her bat in case Jemma needsbackup. “Don’t forget.”

Jemma rolls her eyes at her before leveling her gun at thezombie and pulling the trigger. The bullet lands neatly between the eyes andthe zombie drops to the ground.

“Nice shooting.” They whirl around toward the unfamiliarvoice. “I thought I’d cleared-”

Further words are silenced by another crack of the gun andthe thud of another body hitting the floor. The groan that escapes thisparticular zombie sounds more human than zombie-like and Daisy is pretty sureshe’s never heard a zombie talk before and…

“Oh my god…” Daisy furrows her brow as she steps closer tothe figure on the ground. “Is that Tony Stark?”

Jemma’s eyes go wide and she looks down at the gun in herhands, a guilty look crossing her face. “Did I just kill Tony Stark?”

Carefully, Daisy nudges the body with the edge of herbaseball bat. Nothing. “I…I think you might have.”

“Oh my god.” Jemma presses a hand to her mouth, standingbeside Daisy and studying the body. “Where did he come from? Why is he dressed…likea zombie? That’s zombie makeup, right?”

Daisy’s eyes grow wide. “This must be Tony Stark’s house!”She grins. “We must be in Tony Stark’s house! Holy shit! No wonder everythingis so nice.”

“I think you’re missing the point here.” Jemma points back toTony Stark, former billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist. “I shot TonyStark.”

Daisy pats Jemma on the shoulder. “He could have been azombie,” she points out. “You were just trying to save our lives. From TonyStark! Holy shit!” She grabs Jemma’s hand, tugging her back in the direction ofthe staircase. “Let’s tell Coulson. He’s going to get a kick out of this.”

Jemma rolls her eyes but allows Daisy to drag her down thestairs. She feels bad for the whole Tony Stark snafu but she definitely doesn’tregret any of the things that have brought her to this moment, with her hand inDaisy’s, facing down the end of the world with her, and a former schoolteacher, and an eight-year-old boy.

Honestly, Jemma figures, there are worst ways to spend theend of the world.  

[pippytmi]

Lena/Veronica + Alice Cooper's Poison 👀 👀

i’ve never written for these two before but i’m down with this?? thank you for the prompt!!

Lena has tried, time and time again, to forget about Veronica Sinclair.

Life has a funny way of rewarding her for it. Lena has done her nights full of ice cream and terrible rom-coms, but all for naught, apparently; all it takes is a cold gun being pressed to her temple and all she can think is, fucking Veronica.

“Look,” Lena says, raising her hands to prove she’s not about to fight back, “I don’t know where you’re getting your information from nowadays, and I hate to break your bubble like this, but whoever you think I am? It’s not me.”

The masked gunman isn’t so easily convinced. “You’re coming with me,” he says, and his voice brokers no disagreement. He probably doesn’t even know who she is, really. Maybe he’s just hired muscle.

And Lena sighs, shoulders sagging in exhaustion because she’s ready to give up. She’s so tired of this game, of this back-and-forth between Veronica and everyone she’s managed to piss off this time. It always ends with Lena in the cross hairs, especially whenever Veronica comes back to town.

“Fine,” she says.  "If we have to do this the hard way, then why not.“

She steps away from the gate of the apartment complex and lets herself be led down the alleyway a few streets over, the grimy one that the streetlights never quite reach. The gun pokes at the back of her neck with every step, metal chilled from the cool night air; this gunman has likely been waiting outside for a while.

They get as far as halfway down before Lena finally jerks sideways, startling the gunman so much he nearly stumbles forward. Before he can even turn and point the gun at her again, she swiftly disarms him and levels his own weapon at him.

They stand in the darkness, the gunman’s ski mask only half-illuminated by the silver moonlight, and have a quiet stare-off. It’s hard to read someone by eyes alone, but Lena doesn’t have time to wonder if he’s afraid or not.

"For the record,” Lena tells him, “I’m not with Veronica anymore.” She puts the gun back on safety, not once lowering it, but he doesn’t even flinch. “So if you want to pass along the word to whoever she’s pissed off this time, that would be great.”

Still nothing. Lena takes a step backward, and even lowers the gun, but he doesn’t move after her. She takes another step.

“You’re Lena Luthor, aren’t you?” he suddenly says. His voice is low, deep, but young enough that she knows he can’t be much older than she is.

(Lena doesn’t get a chance to answer before he suddenly crumples.)

“Veronica,” she swears under her breath, dropping to her knees and rolling over the gunman’s body before he suffocates in the mud. She finds Veronica’s trademark, a poisoned dart, lodged right by his jaw; she yanks it out before it can make its way deeper.

It doesn’t take too long before she hears the tell-tale click of heels on slick pavement, each step slow and unhurried. She doesn’t turn until she absolutely has to, pressing her fingertips to the gunman’s neck and hoping this poison isn’t a lethal one.

But Veronica has always had a presence that has demanded to be known. “Miss me?” she says, voice as silky smooth as Lena’s always remembered it to be.

Lena looks at her and thinks that, for three months, Veronica sure has changed a lot. Her hair is shorter, choppy and just reaching her chin. Her tattoos are hidden under a sweatshirt and jeans, and she looks so ordinary, save for one thing: her lipstick, as dark red as the heels she wears, practically shines in the moonlight.

“You’re supposed to be in Greece,” Lena says, and she stands, fingers curling into a muddy fist.

“Can’t a girl come home every now and then?” Veronica says. Her eyes flicker to the man on the ground, and she tsks, shaking her head. “This reeks of Lord’s people. I’ll have to thank him personally for it.”

“Last I heard, Lord was going underground,” Lena says, and Veronica’s eyes snap back to Lena.

A slow, amused smile dawns on Veronica’s face. “Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“Not on you,” Lena corrects. “Just everyone trying to get to me. You know, since you ever-so-nicely left a trail that leads to me.”

Veronica’s smile dims. Just a bit. “I don’t regret it, Lena,” she says.

“Well, I do,” Lena says. “And if you’ll excuse me, Roulette, I have to get to work at eight tomorrow.” She drops the gun in the dirt and starts to walk away, burying her muddy hands into her pockets and furiously trying not to look back.

The click of Veronica’s heels follow. “You’ve never called me that,” she says, and her voice is soft, hurt, and Lena stops.

“That’s what everyone else calls you,” Lena says, harsher than intended. “I’ve heard the stories.”

“I’ve heard all about you, too,” Veronica says, and she steps close, so close that Lena’s head reels. “You’re taking over Lex’s company.”

“It’s not like he’s around to do it,” Lena says. The thanks to you is left unsaid, and Veronica scoffs.

“He was trying to recruit you into his world,” she says. Then, quieter: “My world. I did what I had to do to keep you safe.”

“Except move on,” Lena says, and she turns around and keeps walking. She stands under the streetlight and shuts her eyes, briefly, to collect her thoughts. She tries not to over think the fact that Veronica is still following her.

“Have you seen him yet?” comes Veronica’s question, hesitant in a way Veronica usually never is.

“No,” Lena says, dully. “Don’t worry. Your secret mafia life is safe with me.”

Veronica shifts close enough that her arm brushes Lena’s, though she makes no real effort to touch her. Like this, with light, Lena can fully see Veronica and she realizes she isn’t as different after all; she still has that haughty rise of her chin, still has a smile that isn’t really as kind as it is cunning.

But she’s also softened around the edges, and she keeps darting her eyes searchingly over Lena’s face, as if looking for something she’ll never find.

“I’m thinking of coming back for good, if it means anything,” Veronica says, finally. When Lena doesn’t reply—because she’s strong, dammit—Veronica hedges, “Any chance I can crash on your couch?”

Lena hates to admit it, but that way Veronica’s looking at her—as cocky as she is, as insufferable as her forming smirk is—it’s enough to make her resolve weaken.

Still, “I think we both know how badly that turns out,” Lena says, because though she’s struggling, she’s got a good head on her shoulders; she really shouldn’t get involved with her criminal ex-girlfriend again, not when she’s trying so hard to get out of the shadow of her criminal brother’s name.

“You’d really leave me outside? At this time of night? It could be very dangerous,” Veronica says.

Lena rolls her eyes. “You’ll manage,” she says, and she starts her walk towards her apartment again. This time, Veronica doesn’t follow, and though every reasonable part of Lena is screaming to keep going, the stupider part of her stops her feet from going forward. And, “One night. That’s it.”

Veronica’s smirk comes out full-force. “One night,” she echoes. “You got it.”

(So much for forgetting.)

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by John Hertig on The Prepper Journal.

It is considered axiomatic that “a gun (or three) is a key factor in a survival situation“.  And there is some basis to this concept.  When under attack by people who are better armed or significantly outnumber you, proper use of a firearm will often be your best hope of surviving the encounter.  Note the word “proper“; it is of critical importance.  Improper use of a firearm can REDUCE your chances of survival.  Thus, if you wish to incorporate firearms into your survival strategy, you MUST be willing AND able to make the commitment to learn how to use them “properly“.  This means allocating time and money for training and practice.  Without committing to this and following through, your firearms will not provide you all the benefits they are capable of, and there is a chance they might do you more harm than good.

     In addition to defense from man or beast, a firearm can be the most effective method of hunting game – at the cost of letting all other game and other people know you are there.

The first step is to force yourself to disregard everything you’ve “learned” about firearms from movies and TV – 92% of it is total crap and will get you killed, or worse.

Safety

Before you ever touch a firearm, you must program the safety rules into every cell in your body and brain.  Failing to do so will cause you to issue one of the classic lies and get a trip to the hospital or jail.

Lie 1 – “I didn’t know it was loaded“.  Rule 1 is that EVERY gun is ALWAYS loaded.  If you believe Rule 1 with every fiber of your being, you’ll never hear yourself saying Lie 1, much less have to pay for it.

Lie 2 – “It just went off“.  No it didn’t.  You pulled the trigger and it went off.  Rule 2 is to never touch the trigger until you are ready to shoot, and if you train yourself to always follow this rule, you are unlikely to hear yourself saying Lie 2 or bear the results.  The “unlikely” recognizes that if the firearm is not designed to be safe or has been modified to an unsafe condition, it can go off if dropped or impacted or manipulated.  But even in those cases, you dropped it or impacted it or manipulated it; the gun did not just lay there thinking about how boring things were and decided to “go off” just to enjoy some excitement.  To make this as unlikely as possible, make sure that you only use firearms which are well designed, built and tested, and are not modified by anyone who does not know what they are doing.

Lie 3 – “I didn’t mean to do that“.  In this case, you probably have already uttered Lie 1 and/or Lie 2.  But you have shot something or someone, because that was what was in line with the barrel when you violated Rule 1 and Rule 2.  This is why there is Rule 3, never point a gun at anything you do not intend to shoot, or at least are not wanting to be shot.

Lie 4 – “I wasn’t aiming at that“.  Yes you were.  Where your barrel was pointed is where the bullet went.  You must be able to verify what you are shooting at AND know that if you penetrate your target or even miss your target, the bullet will continue until it is stopped by something.  Rule 4 is always make sure you know that your target is valid AND what is behind your target before firing and that it would not be a disaster to hit the target or anything beyond the target.

If you follow Rule 1, Rule 2, Rule 3 and Rule 4 “religiously“, your odds of being involved in an “accidental” shooting are essentially non-existent.

Morality and Legality

There are those who say “Thou shall not kill“.  These are not bad people, but they are also not survivors; perhaps they expect better things in their life after this one, so “don’t mind” not defending themselves in this life.  Or just don’t believe anyone would want to harm the wonder that is them.  Perhaps a better directive is “Thou shall not murder“.

This recognizes that killing someone without cause is a bad thing, but if someone is attacking you or other innocents without cause, they have forfeited any “right to life” they may have.  You need to search your soul and decide which one of these statements is “programmed” into you.  If you doubt you could kill someone who is trying to kill you or worse, then don’t have anything to do with firearms.  In an armed confrontation, if you hesitate, the attacker is likely to take your gun away from you and kill or “enslave” you.  And then use your gun to kill or brutalize others.

If you have to defend yourself, you are guaranteed to have an encounter with Law Enforcement, who tend to look askance at those who “did THEIR job” (which they obviously failed to do).  Know the laws, know what to say to the authorities and more importantly, what not to say, and have plans in place for legal representation and bail (because when you are arrested, they take away EVERYTHING you have on you).  But what if the situation occurred in a “WROL” (Without Rule Of Law) scenario?  Even then, there is a decent chance of consequences.  Perhaps Law will be reintroduced in one form or another, and they will look into situations which happened during the period of unrest.  Perhaps the person or people who attacked you have friends or family who decide to take “justice” into their own hands.  In any case, there is a good chance you will spend a fair amount of time beating yourself up over the situation because for most humans, killing another human is traumatic.  Heck, for some people, killing an animal is traumatic.  Be fully aware that defending yourself is not without cost, and if you do not think that cost would be bearable or at least preferable to being killed or living with the results intended by your attacker, again, avoid firearms.

Basic Training

Whenever you get a firearm, the first step is to become familiar with it.  Read the manual and learn how to operate it, and make sure it functions correctly.  Using “snap caps” is a way to try functioning without danger of unintended discharge or damage to the firearm.  Make sure you can disassemble it sufficiently to clean it or clear any malfunction, and of course, reassemble it afterwards.

   The next step is to learn to hit what you are aiming at, and this requires some time at the range.  Adjust the sighting mechanism(s) so that the bullet goes where the sights point, and then work on operating the firearm so that you can reliably hit what you aim at.  Start at close range and only extend the distance when you are competent at shorter distances.  If this is your first firearm, it would be a good idea to load one cartridge at a time, since you need accuracy and consistency to begin with, not speed.  It would also be a good idea to have an experienced “coach” to help you out.  They can watch what you are doing and help you figure out anything you are doing wrong.

Obviously, you can’t do live fire practice “at home”; if local law enforcement does not object, probably those that live with or near you will.  Dry fire is an option; some weapons won’t be damaged by it, and there are “snap caps” designed to prevent dry fire damage to any firearm.  Another option is a “laser” TARGET system (NOT an aiming system).  This involves installing some sort of laser system in the firearm which shines a laser down the bore briefly when you pull the trigger, and having a target system which detects the laser beam.

   Once you can reliably hit “the bullseye”, you can start to work on the other basic skills.  You are not likely to be carrying the firearm in firing position all the time.  You need to get the firearm from its holster or slung position into firing position, and work on reloads.  These are skills which can be practiced at home as well as at the range.

Advanced Training

Once you can properly and effectively use your firearm, you have a good start.  However keep in mind that you will seldom be attacked by pieces of paper, and attackers generally won’t just stand there or move in predictable patterns.  As a defender, you don’t want to behave in a “target-like” manner either.  You need to incorporate movement and cover into your training.  This can be done on your own or with one or more partners, but the most effective option would be formal combat competition.  These involve specified scenarios, from your starting position to your movement, required cover and mandatory reloads.  Your “evaluation” is computed from your time, accuracy and adherence to the specified sequence of actions.  Those with the best scores “win” and everyone else “loses”, which to some degree models real life gunfights.  Those who can reach good cover quickly and hit their target soonest, tend to live while their opponents tend to die.

  It makes no difference how quick you are if you can’t hit anything, and the best accuracy in the world won’t help you if it takes five minutes to line up the shot.  And even quickness and accuracy won’t help much if you just stand out in the open.  You need to develop the ability to determine and reach good cover (blue plastic barrels are hard to find in the wild, and generally won’t stop a bullet even if you do find one) as well as quickly and accurately hit small targets which may be moving or far away.  Furthermore, things have been known to go wrong, so you also need to be able to reload quickly and clear malfunctions.

Search out combat completions reasonably close to you, and get involved on some kind of regular basis.  Not only will it extend your skills, but can be fun and challenging.

Another option for training is a course or series of classes.  This can be a very good way to learn advanced skills, but the competitions are still a good way to practice them.

“Realism” Training

Combat competition is a good training and/or practice methodology, but the only stress it provides is “time pressure” and the only “punishment” for poor performance is not getting a trophy and perhaps some good natured joshing for a real bonehead mistake.  While not without value, this is not optimal training for something on which your life might someday depend.  Incorporating some paintball into your training is quite valuable.  In this, your targets move and think and *gasp* shoot back at you.  And being hit with a paintball won’t kill you, but it will sting like the dickens and leave a nice welt.  This game stresses concealment, sneaking, ammunition limitations, gun malfunctions, movement and cover, and even involves some combat strategy.  Unlike combat competitions, where you follow a “script”, in paintball, you need to come up with your own plan and more importantly, modify that plan as events unfold not as expected.  Plus again, this can be quite a lot of fun.

If paintball is not practical in your area, laser tag or airsoft games may provide some of the benefits.

Maintaining Your Skills

Let’s say you do really well at training and reach a level of competence with which you are satisfied.  Great!  Even if you don’t want to hone your skills further, don’t stop practicing on a reasonably regular basis.  As soon as you stop practicing, your skills start to degrade.

What’s Wrong With TV “Training”

As mentioned, if you use TV or movies for training, you will develop some very bad and probably fatal tactics.  For instance, entertainment media puts forward that concept that “power flows from the barrel of a gun”.  The bad guy points a gun at someone and tells them to do something, and no matter how bad or stupid that something is, the victim does it because the person with the gun “made them”.  This is a very bad concept to adopt.  To be clear, a gun pointed at you has absolutely no power to control you.  The only thing which comes out of the barrel of a gun is a bullet.  You may not want to be shot; most people don’t.  But as we know from Rule 3, someone pointing a gun at you quite likely intends to shoot you or at least is willing to, and just because you do what they say does not guarantee that they WON’T shoot you.  React accordingly.

In the same vein, the good guy points a gun at the bad guy and orders him to do something, or argues with him, or lectures him.  And the bad guy takes the gun away from him.  Again, the gun is to stop them from doing what they are doing, not impose your orders on anyone.

Another thing glorified in entertainment is the concept of a “hostage“.  “Drop your gun or I’ll shoot/cut/stab this person” usually results in the good guy disarming himself.  I don’t recall ever seeing one saying “Yeah?  And the instant you do, there is nothing keeping me from shooting you, is there?”  For that matter, combat competitions usually include scenarios where you shoot a “bad guy” target behind one or more “good guy” targets (and you are penalized if you hit a “hostage”).  There is nothing magical about a hostage which protects the bad guy from an accurate, resolute good guy.  For that matter, how come movie hostages never faint from the stress and fear they are under?  It would be instructive to see how the hostage taker could project menace while trying to hold up an unconscious person as a shield.

Then there is the classic “shoot-out“.  Good guys behind one set of barricades, bad guys behind another set.  People pop up and fire at their opponent’s barricades and duck back down, then someone else pops up and fires, and so on until one side runs out of ammunition.  Here’s a hint – the loser in this scenario will always be the one who runs out of ammo first.  Lets adopt the policy that you never fire a shot unless you have a reasonable target!  One exception might be if you are providing “covering” fire; which should only be done with a very clear understanding of your ammunition situation and what benefits will be realized from the covering fire.

Finally, there is the concept of “always” firing for center of mass.  Now this is a very good thing to do for quick results, but it is not magical.  If the bad guy happens to be wearing body armor, it will disable them temporarily at best.  Think of how many times in the movies a bad guy is “beaten” and then the hero turns away to do something and is attacked again by the bad guy.  Even if the bad guy is NOT wearing body armor and IS hit center of mass, there is a chance (the size of which depends on the ammunition they were shot with) they are not permanently incapacitated.  That is why two quick shots to center of mass (double tap) followed by an aimed shot to the head is considered the most reliable way to stop an attacker.  An attacker who is still armed or even unrestrained should always be considered still a threat.

The “gangsta grip” is emphasized, where the gun is held horizontally rather than vertically as designed.  Don’t do this.  Even if the gun does not jam, you can’t use the sights and the recoil forces are not applied as designed.  And then there are the laughable moments when the good guy attempts to continue the battle with his slide locked back.  Or he fires 70 rounds out of a gun which only holds 7 and his slide is NOT locked back.  Always be aware of the condition of your firearm, and reload when you need to AND during any periods of inactivity.  Nothing is worse than having a shot you need to make and just getting a “click“.

The good guy seldom gets hit or, if shot (or beaten or knifed), is still capable of heroics.  In real life, some bad guys can hit what they aim at, and any one can just “get lucky“.  And I suspect that most people are not going to be very effective physically or mentally after being shot anywhere, with anything.  So make use of good cover and wise tactics as much as possible, because you don’t have a team of script writers working to ensure that you will meet your goals, and there are no “second takes”.

    The post Firearms Training for Survival appeared first on The Prepper Journal.

from The Prepper Journal Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag

[prettywitchiusaka]

FMA Fanfic: Ed Knows Best?

Ed Knows Best?

by Prettywitchiusaka

Edward Elric ran as fast as his legs could carry him through the decently lit cavern, a small army of well armed mercenaries were chasing after him and closing on him fast. If they were dogs, they would've been nipping at his feet by now.

The blonde let out a growl; it was times like this he wished his automail leg was a bit lighter, than he could be out running these goons in no time flat. But nope; he was stuck with this heavy machinery for a leg and a heavy satchel hanging off his shoulder, running for his life and dodging the occasional bullet.

To think, the day had started out so simple.

After learning of the possibility of a Philosopher's Stone being in the Eastern jungle, he and his younger brother, Alphonse took the next train out and began venturing the grassy terrain.

After walking for what felt like hours, they came across a village in the midst of their own crisis. For the last few weeks, their children had been disappearing, the villagers blaming it on some God of the Lost Celestial Stones.

Not that Ed cared. Being an alchemist, he never really believed in any of that religious nonsense. And besides, any trace of the Celestial Stones were lost to history as far as he knew. But when he and Al sat down to talk about it, he couldn't deny that his brother might be onto something when he pointed out the connection between the stones and the missing children.

So with help from the village chief's son, they began their long and arduous journey towards the old abandoned mine outside the village, reaching their destination by nightfall.

As luck would have it, they found the missing children in the enslavement of Allan Shire, an archeologist who was looking for the buried Celestial Stones. Unlike gemstones, Celestial Stones were said to be colourful, unbreakable stones forged from lava in the perpetually dormant volcano hardening over a few decades, meaning whoever found them would be swimming in cash in no time.

In other words, Allan was in it for the money, not the science, much to Ed's irritation.

And boy, was this guy an arrogant sleezeball, as he soon discovered. Turns out the village chief made an agreement with Allan to sell out the Elrics in exchange for his family's safety.

And to make matters worse, he'd given Allan all of the information regarding the Elric's that Ed told him. He knew everything about them; their weaknesses, their history with the military, even the secret behind their bodies.

He wasn't shy about rubbing it in their faces, either. Ed could remember when him and Al were caught. Allan just stood there, tall and mighty, smirking smugly before saying "Well, would ya' look at that? I always heard the stories. Never imagine the Fullmetal Alchemist would actually a maimed little runt."

That angered Ed, enough that he tried strangling the smug snake for insulting his height. But when Allan's goons pinned him down, he instead told him "You won't get away with this!"

Allan laughed. "You still got some fight in ya', I like that; makes it more fun for me…" Crouching down to Edward's height, he said "Bu, you see, the thing is…I can't have you interfering in my plans, kid."

And he mean it. As soon as Allan's men had thrown them in the dungeon, they stripped Ed of his automail arm and Al his chalk, intending to kill them and the other children when the bombs lining the cave walls went off at sunrise and allowing Allan and his team a clean getaway.

Honestly, Ed didn't know which was worse; the fact that he'd been outsmarted by a self absorbed "archeologist", or that Allan was starting to remind him of a certain superior officer of his that irritated him to no end.

Lucky for them, the Chief's son felt bad for betraying his new friends. After helping them escape the Elrics and their new friend hatched a plan; Al would help free the kids and take them to safety, while Ed took care of Allan and his goons and got the stones away from them.

And that's how the young alchemist found himself in this position, running for his life as he usually did. "I just hope Al got those kids back to the village!" he muttered to himself.

He was really starting to get tired from all of this running, so the sooner he could get out of this cave and across the bridge to safety, the better.

And thankfully, he could finally see the blinding sunlight creeping in through a giant hole that was the exit. He might have been jumping for joy now if not for the row of guards blocking the exit, each of them holding sniper riffles and poised to shoot.

"Not today!" Ed thought to himself.

Holding up the blade on his automail arm, he ran towards the row with a yell. The man he was running towards got ready to fire at the kid. But before he could react, the Fullmetal Alchemist did the unthinkable; he used the guy as a stepping stool and jumped over him. Landing on his feet like a well trained acrobat a few seconds later.

Then before any of the armed men could react, he clapped his hands together and transmuted a hole in the ground, causing them to fall in.

A Cheshire Cat grin on his face, he ran out and yelled "So long, suckers!"

With nothing to hold him back now, he ran across the bridge with a smirk; this was a sure getaway.

"You've done well, kid," Ed stopped in the middle of the bridge and looked up to see the man of the hour; Allan, himself. Looking quite confident for a man who was about to loose.

Heck, he even put out his hand and said "Now hand over the stones."

Hearing that, Ed snorted. "Come on, Allan. Just give up," he said. " In case you haven't noticed, your child slaves are gone and we've got the stones. By the time the military shows up, you'll be finished."

With a smirk still on his face, Allan let out a chuckle and said "You sure about that, kid?"

Hearing that, Ed raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Now what is he planning?" he thought to himself. That is until he noticed that something, or someone was nowhere in sight. "Wait a minute…Where's Al?"

"BROTHER!"

Looking up towards the gorge, Ed felt his heart beating faster at the sight of Al practically being dangled over the cliff. The only thing that kept him from falling to his doom was one of Allan's henchmen holding him by the hair on his helmet and one of his forearms.

"Damnit!" Ed cursed. One wrong move and his brother was done for. He could survive a few alligators tearing him to pieces, but that giant ravine of water at the bottom would wash off his blood seal if he fell in.

"Now…," said Allan. All while tilting his hat up and smirking. "You were saying?"

"Let him go, you bastard!"

"Not until you give me the stones."

Turning his head around, Ed could see the trouble he was in now. Not only had the guards

from earlier caught up to him, but they were aiming their riffles at his forehead, too.

Well, Edward Elric was never one to give up so easy, so he did the only thing he could think to do; he took the bag containing the stones off his shoulder and dangled them over the bridge rope. "You want the stones!? Let him go!"

"Go ahead, kid," Allan replied. "We can always find them again…but I guarantee you the military won't find your remains so easily."

Edward let out a growl.

As much as he hated admitting it, he wished his superior, Colonel Roy Mustang was here. Sure, the guy was an arrogant jerk. But at least he knew how to turn around a situation like this and make it work in his favour.

What could Edward possibly do right now? Sure, he could come up with a plan, but that was easier said than done. Given their current predicament, every scenario he could think of ended with either him or Al dying.

Nothing short of giving Allan the stones would save their- "Wait, that's it!" Ed realized. If he could outsmart this guy, than he could save Al and make a getaway in one fell swoop.

Of course, that did mean his brother would chew him out for the second part of his plan later. But what other choice did he have, right now?

So, the Fullmetal Alchemist let out a sigh. "Okay, fine." Holding the bag out to Allan, he said "Let's make a trade."

Allan's smirk widened. "Good."

As if on cue, the goon holding Al pulled him back onto solid ground and began walking towards the bridge, Allan in front. When they finally reached Edward, he wasted not time trying to assault them or anything like that. Instead, he gave the bag to the smug archeologist and walked over towards his brother.

"Sorry, brother," Al said. Despite the words coming out of his mouth, he was looking more like a little boy who just got his hand caught in the cookie jar than someone trying to apologize. "They jumped me."

"Don't worry about it…," Ed replied. Using the blade on his automail arm, he cut the ropes keeping his brother's hands together. "You're okay?"

"Yeah…"

"Good…,"

Now that he was free, Al took a moment to survey their surroundings. It didn't look good, what with Allan's goons poised to shoot them. But that was pretty normal for them, he reminded himself. The real question was how were they going to get out of this predicament?

"Gee, we really gout ourselves into trouble this-"

"Listen, Al," he heard Ed whisper. Looking down, he saw his brother staring at him stoically. "I want you to hold onto something. We're going for a bumpy ride."

"What?" Al asked while looking down at the rope, wondering what his brother could mean by "bumpy ride." Well that is until he put two and two together, than he let out a gasp. "Oh my

God! Are you serious!?"

"Just do it! Okay!?"

With a heavy sigh, Al did what his brother asked and started wrapping a piece of rope around his wrist, grumbling to himself the whole time.

Ed, meanwhile was wrapping a piece of rope around his wrist, as well, ready to put his plan into action. And just in time, too.

A few seconds later, he heard the familiar sound of someone clicking off the safety on a hand gun.

"So." Turning his head, he saw Allan looking as smug as ever. Pointing the gun at his temple. "Any last words before I kill you."

The Fullmetal Alchemist snorted. "Actually. If I was you? I'd start thinking about what you're gonna be saying at your court hearing."

"What?"

But the kid didn't answer him. Rather, he started hacking away at the ropes.

"What are you doing!?" Allan asked. Not that Ed cared, one more slice and they all fell down onto the bridge.

Not long after, the bridge snapped in two, causing both parties to start making their way

towards the rough looking cliff.

Ed kept his eyes shut tightly and his hands firmly on the rope. He could feel the wind blowing through his bangs and his hair braid, though that was pretty par for the course, he figured.

As long as he stayed calm and didn't panic, than everything would be alright. This would all be over in just a few seconds, he kept telling himself.

Of course, it didn't help that he could hear a certain someone next to him screaming his…well, voice out since Al no longer had any lungs to speak of.

Turning his head, he opened his eyes to see his brother, holding on for dear life and acting like they were done for.

"Oh, would you relax, Al! Just a few more seconds and we'll be-"

And that's when Ed felt his eyes widening. Not only were they heading for the side of the side of the gorge, there were also jagged rocks sticking out of it as well. Once they made impact with those rocks, it would crush the bridge and them in one fell swoop.

Now Ed was screaming. But not for long.

Acting as fast as he could he clapped his hands together, ready to transmute something once they were close enough and save their skins. He never got the chance.

Pretty soon, Ed became distracted by a familiar, blinding blue light not even ten inches from him. Turning his head, he saw where the light was coming from; it was Al. He had drawn a transmutation circle, turning the rope bridge into a metal one that would protect them from the impact of the rocks.

Closing his eyes, Ed braced for impact. In a matter of twenty seconds, the bridge hit the side of the cliff, making dents in the rock and saving them simultaneously.

Now that they were out of danger, Ed breathed a sigh of relief. Once again, his brother's quick thinking had saved their skins. Meaning they could relax for a bit.

"Brother, look!"

Or not!

Hearing Al's plea, Ed looked down and saw Allan and his goons falling down towards the ravine.

As if that wasn't bad enough, there was a pack of hungry crocodiles were waiting for them. Licking their lips in anticipation of their lunch.

Gasping, Ed leapt into action. It was certainly lucky for these guys that his monicure of the "Hero of the People" wasn't for nothing.

Clapping his hands together, the Fullmetal Alchemist placed them on the rock and pretty soon, a burst of bright light began radiating from the rock, working its way down until it stopped in the middle of the gorge.

The blue light them faded, leaving in its place a net being held up by fasteners in the shape of the young alchemist's head. The net caught Allan and his flunkies in time, allowing them all to avoid a gruesome death.

Ed couldn't help but stare at his handiwork in admiration; another job well done, he thought. That is, until he turned around saw his brother staring at him with an angry grimace. It's funny; even though Al had been without a moveable face these last few years, the blonde could always tell what his brother was thinking and feeling.

"What?"

"You know what! Do you have a death wish, or something!?"

"Well what did you want me to do!? They had guns pointed at my head!"

"Well you could've just transmuted something, you didn't have to put us all in danger!"

"Oh sorry for panicking!"

"This never would've happened if you'd let Major Armstrong come along with us like he

wanted!"

"He would've just made things worse and you know it!"

"He would've thought up a better battle strategy! That's for sure!"

"Oh real mature!"

The two brothers continued arguing amongst themselves, completely unaware that Allan and his goons were watching them in utter shock and disgust.

"Christ! Is that kid nuts, or something!?"

Allan laughed. "No…He seems more impulsive if you ask me."

He could feel his men's eyes settling on him, probably giving him a look of "really, boss?", but he didn't care. It'd been a long time since he'd had some fun on an expedition, and that reckless little alchemist had just given him the best thrill he'd had in awhile.

How could he not be thankful to him for that?

The End

[linaofthemyscira]

The Quest for the Lost Treasure Part 4

Pairing: Adventurer!Jason Todd x Adventurer!Reader

Word Count: 2759

Summary: In university, you discover that an ancient treasure supposed to have been “found” was actually still lost. Determined to be the one to find it, you set off on a journey to find it, and run into Jason Todd and his adventurer posse. With Jason’s expertise of the land, and your natural talent for adventuring, you two are the perfect mix. Will you find the treasure smoothly? Or will you fail and lose a friendship?

Warnings: foul language, sexual innuendos, Jason being an ass (again)

A/N I think this chapter is much better than the last one, tbh but hey that’s just me. Also THANK YOU GUYS AGAIN FOR 100 FOLLOWERS! My ask box is always open to request an imagine, blurb, headcanon and/or ship. Alright, enjoy!

Parts: 1  |  2  |  3  |

Reader POV

My eyes flit across the pages of my book as we begin flying over the Amazon Rainforest (in Colombia).

“What are you reading?” Tim asks me. I look at him and back at my book.

“The Alchemist. A friend recommended it.” I tell him.

“I’ve heard it’s a good book,” Tim comments.

“So far it’s quite interesting, but it sucks that it’s so short,” I refer to the book’s small size.

“If you guys could talk about book porn some other time, that would be great. Not everyone is a nerd like you two,” Jason says. I roll my eyes and look back at Tim, who mouths “Sorry” to me. However before I can say it’s okay, the plane violently shakes.

“What the hell?!” I shut my book. “Jason, was that turbulence?”

“Um, no. I don’t wanna scare you or anything but I think we’re being shot at,” Jason says as he begins flipping switches while simultaneously steering the plane.

“What?!” I shout. Jason’s suspicions are confirmed when I hear gunshots and the sound of more planes whizzing past us. I have to wake up Damian (he fell asleep about an hour ago).

“Damian! Damian wake up!” I shake him lightly.

“Huh? What? What’s going on?” He wakes up suddenly.

“Well, to put it bluntly, we’re being shot at by other planes,” Tim tells him.

“Woah, really? Awesome!” Damian cheers.

“No! Not awesome! I don’t wanna die!” I begin freaking out.

“And you’re not, these assholes have no idea who they’re messing with. Dick, ready the wing-guns,” Jason grips the wheel tightly.

“Wing-guns ready,” Dick confirms.

“You have guns too?!” I screech.

“Yeah now shut up!” Jason snaps. “Ready…..fire!”

And the guns that were (apparently) on the wings begin shooting at the enemy planes.

“HOLY SHIT!” I yell. Damian is laughing almost maniacally and Tim is trying to calm him down. I look around to see if there’s anything I can do, but all I can do is simply grab my backpack and keep my duffel bag close to me in case I have to jump out of this flying tin can.

“You know what? Fuck off! Shoot me down, I dare you!” Jason suddenly yells.

“Who are you talking to, Todd?!” Damian asks.

“One of the pilots said he was going to shoot us down if we didn’t land in the next 5 minutes. And, well, you heard how I responded.” Jason explains.

“Why would you do that?! You said we weren’t gonna die!” Tim says.

“Yeah Jase, why would you lie like that?” Dick asks as he shoots using the right wing gun.

“I didn’t intentionally lie! Just focus on shooting those bastards down!” Jason yells.

“Maya was right, I probably shouldn’t have come on this trip,” I grab my duffel bag. “Tim do we have any parachutes?”

“Four, right here,” he says as he pulls parachute packs out from the seats.

“But there’s five of us,” I state the obvious.

“If necessary, you can take Damian,” Tim tells me.

“No! I’m getting my own chute! Y/N can go with Jason since they’re practically together,” Damian argues. I scrunch my nose in disgust. Me? And him? No way, José.

“We are not together, and I’m getting the chute, I’m older, I have seniority,” I say.

“Why are you already talking about chutes? We’re not gonna need em since Dickie bird and I are shooting up these assfaces,” I can see Jason grin from where I’m sitting.

“Ya know, safety precautions, in case you happen to fuck up and let someone shoot us up,” I say sarcastically.

“Hey, you could be more grateful, we’re taking you to Colombia!” Jason shouts.

“I won’t be in Colombia if we die!” I shout back. “And what is it with you demanding to be thanked?! Who does that?!”

“I work my ass off to get this team to where they need, I deserve a thank you for everything I do!” He responds.

“In case you haven’t noticed we’re having an existential crisis right now! You can argue later!” Dick interrupts. “Shit! I’m out of bullets!” He says a few seconds later.

“Me too! Fuck me!” Jason strikes the plane steering wheel.

“I’m sure Y/N would like to take you up on that offer,” Damian smirks. I glare at him and Jason goes silent. A few seconds later he speaks again.

“Hey man, can you just forget what I said and did a few minutes earlier? I’d rather not die, it’s kinda exhausting,” he says into the mic.

“You really think they’re just gonna stop shooting at us?!” Dick exclaims.

“It was worth a shot, pun not intended,” Jason shrugs. I sigh exasperatedly.

I look out the small window and see our right wing being shot multiple times.

“Right wing is shot!” I shout.

“Mayday! Mayday!” Damian yelps.

“Tim! Parachutes!” I gesture to the chutes.

“On it!” He starts handing out chutes and giving everyone their belongings.

“Guys stop freaking out, if Y/N gets out there and tapes the wing back together, we’ll be fine!” Jason turns to me.

“Jason! The wing IS ON FIRE!” I point out the window.

“You can use the fire extinguisher,” Jason pulls out a fire extinguisher from his seat.

“No!” I yell.

“Fine! Let Jason go down in flames then!” Jason begins unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Of course you name the plane after yourself. Of course,” I shake my head. “Alright Damian. Are you ready?”

“No not really but I don’t have a choice so…” he shrugs in response. He puts his backpack on and hugs my stomach area.

“10,000 feet, 9,000 feet, 8,000 feet,” Dick counts.

“GRAYSON WE DON’T HAVE TIME TO COUNT THE FEET WE JUST GOTTA GO!” Jason kicks open his door. Tim does the same with our door and jumps out.

“See you guys down there! Geronimooooo!” he shouts.

“Later!” I say and jump out of the plane. I see Tim open his parachute and hear whoops from Jason and Dick from above me.

I estimate where Tim opened his parachute and do the same.

“Damian, you can open your eyes now. And remove your face from my chest,” I look down at Damian, who’s tightly hugging me.

“But they’re so soft, like pillows,” he muffles into my chest. I look up in annoyance. Boys.

I follow Tim’s path of travel and use the parachute toggles to go in the same direction.

When Damian and I land, he lets go and falls on the ground. The parachute falls on my head shortly after; I wrestle around to get it off but I get nowhere.

“DAMIAAAAAAN!” I shout.

“Yeah?!” He shouts back.

“I need help! Get this parachute off of me!” I say. After approximately 8 minutes, I finally get the parachute off with Damian’s help.

“Hey guys! Woah what happened?” Tim comes running up from some trees.

“I got assaulted by my parachute, but Damian helped me out,” I brush off my shorts.

“Good to know,” Tim nods his head and walks over to me and helps me pack the parachute.

“Hey is Y/N okay?!” I hear Jason yell and running footsteps get closer to Damian, Tim and I. He and Dick come running from a clearing of rainforest trees over to us.

“Y/N is just fine, Todd,” Damian says.

“I was just making sure,” Jason replies back.

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that,” Damian mumbles.

“I’m okay, relax,” I tell him. Suddenly we hear an explosion from not too far off, which makes us all jump.

“Poor Jason. I’m sorry buddy, I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Jason turns to the general direction of the explosion.

“If you’re done talking to your dead plane, we need to figure out where we are and where to go,” I pat Jason on his arm. He looks down at me with furrowed brows.

“What?” I ask.

“You touched my arm,” he states the obvious.

“Yeah. I don’t have cooties, calm down,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“Whatever. Tim, get out your map so we can figure out our path of travel,” Jason walks over to Tim, who’s getting a map out of his bag.

“Here,” Tim gives Jason the map. Jason takes his pack off and sits down.

“Gather ‘round, Argonauts, here’s what’s gonna happen…”

Jason POV

“I don’t know what I’ve been told!” Damian sing-yells.

“Jason’s ‘tude is made of mold!” Y/N sing-yells back. We have been walking in this damned rainforest for about 4 hours and I’m getting more tired as each minute passes. At this point I have absolutely no patience for this.

I stop dead in my tracks and whip around to face Y/N, who stops suddenly too.

“It’s actually, Jason Todd is brave and bold or Jason Todd is made of gold. Get your facts straight,” I snap.

“Well you just proved my point, so I do have my facts straight,” she says and walks around me, continuing on our trek.

“Dude, she just roasted you,” Damian passes me as well.

“Nice,” Tim follows soon after. As Dick approaches me, I fall into step with him.

“She is so annoying, why did I let you convince me to take her?” I growl at him.

“She’s not annoying, Jase, you’re just easily agitated. It’s a weakness of yours. You need to keep your cool,” Dick says to me.

“She is! Ever since we met her, it’s like she lives to make me angry,” I cross my arms.

“Maybe she likes you,” Dick suggests. I scoff at the idea.

“No, that’s not possible. If she liked me, she’d be all over me and flirty and shit,” I say.

“You obviously don’t know Y/N very well, then. I knew from the moment I saw her that she’s not your typical woman. She’s…determined and headstrong. She’s sarcastic and sassy. A girl like that isn’t gonna express her feelings the way you think.” Dick tells me. He does have a point. I actually haven’t carried a civilized conversation with Y/N. We’ve only ever…argued. I don’t know a thing about her…except that she likes books and music.

“You may have a point, but I still don’t like her.” I say.

“You like her. You just don’t like that she can see right through you,” Dick says, “She’s the first girl to do that and you’re uncomfortable with it. Meanwhile, I think it’s hilarious.” I stop walking and think about what Dick says as he keeps walking. 

Damn you, Grayson, with your love knowledge.

“Alright guys the sun is setting. I suggest we set up camp soon,” I tell my team. After a few more minutes, we come across a small clearing, but it’s big enough for us to set up some tents and a bonfire.

“This where we’re gonna stay. Start setting up tents,” I say as I set down my stuff.

“I call bunking with Y/N!” Damian shouts. She looks at him in confusion. We then look at each other with baffled expressions.

“I didn’t bring a pillow, and they’re soft,” Damian continues. My jaw drops as I realize what he’s talking about. Y/N rolls her eyes and keeps taking out her tent.

“Nice try, Damian, but I’m gonna be bunking with me, myself and I,” She responds as she squats down to the ground.

Damn you, Y/N.

“But–” Damian starts.

“No, buts. I need my privacy,” she cuts him off.

“Damn it!” he yells. What a twerp.

“You can bunk with me, Damian,” Dick says.

“Fine. Only because I don’t wanna be in the same tent as Todd and Nerd Fest over there,” he gestures to Tim and I.

“Excuse me, but ‘Nerd Fest’ already has his tent set up,” Tim stands proudly next to his perfectly set up tent.

“So do I,” Y/N stands up. I look at my tent which is still in pieces.

“How did you guys get done so fast?!” I say.

“Talent.”

“Skill.”

I roll my eyes and go back to setting up my tent. When we’re done, I take Dick and Tim with me to get some wood for the fire and when we come back, Y/N and Damian are nowhere to be found.

“Guys?” I call out. Nothing. Then I hear laughing and giggling from the forest area across from us. Damian and Y/N come out of the brush, laughing without a care in the world.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask, they both stop their laughing and look up at me.

“Nothing, we just went to go look around the area to see if there are any nearby resources,” Y/N says as she stifles giggles.

“Yep,” Damian agrees. I raise an eyebrow at her and she semi-rolls her eyes.

“We found monkeys doing the nasty,” she explains. “I covered his eyes but he’d already seen the beginning.”

I rub my temples and sigh.

“Okay fine. Listen, we have to eat. The sun is going down, and I’d like to see if insects crawl in my food or not so I don’t accidentally eat a spider or something,” I say.

“Sounds good. Let’s get the bonfire set up and eat, I’m hungry,” Y/N says and moves past me over to Dick and Tim. She quickly sets up the bonfire and helps make the food we brought, which includes baked beans and chicken soup.

We all sit on logs as we sip the soup in silence. Y/N finishes first and gets up from her log and rinses out the thermos cup with a little bit of water.

“I’m going to bed. Good night,” she crawls into her tent and zips it up.

“Since I’m not bunking with Y/N, Todd, why don’t you?” Damian asks me. I look up at him and shoot him a small glare as I eat my soup.

“I don’t really like her,” I mutter.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you,” Damian says loudly. Dick and Tim shush him but I know he heard me clear as day.

“Nothing. I’m done too, see you guys tomorrow morning.” I finish my soup and rinse out the cup as well. I head over to my tent, which is the furthest from Y/N’s and I go inside. I frustratedly take off my chest harness and shirt, then my pants. I get in my sleeping bag and fluff the attached pillow.

I close my eyes and try to fall asleep for about an hour, but I can’t, so I sit up and the first thing I see is a green glow from outside. I open my tent zipper a bit and see a dim-ish light coming from Y/N’s tent. Her figure is sitting down and looking at something.

What could she possibly be doing this late at night?

Reader POV

“If we go up the river, and then…cross it over here….through this gorge…and then…over here…we should be…in the fifty mile radius…of the Lost City, here,” I look at one of Tim’s maps. I flip open the book of my research and go to the maps I printed out so I can draw the path I made on my own map.

However, when I get to it, I begin to notice something.

The maps are different.

“What…?” I breathe. I put the printed map next to Tim’s and compare. My map shows landmarks that aren’t even on Tim’s map. It’s old, apparently it was from sometime in the BC era, and someone had recovered it and posted a picture of it on the Wikipedia page. It’s the closest connection I found to the ancient civilization that used to live in The Lost City.

“Wait what does this say?” I ask myself as I bring the Tim’s map closer to the light. A word is scrawled across the area next to Colombia but I can’t read it. I still don’t know what it says.

I then look back at my map. Something’s weird about this. And then I notice.

“No…no…no. No no no. This isn’t right. That’s supposed to be right there…but it’s not. So where is it?” I fumble between the maps. I put Tim’s translucent map on mine and hold them up so the light from the lantern shines through.

I shift the maps so the Colombias are right on top of each other. Then I see it.

Oh. My. God.

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