#like i'm SURE he could just.... disarm the guy or knock him out

[galaxy-fleur]

Replaying RE4R, and I am once again thinking of how Leon just straight up murders a guy the moment he attacks. Like yeah, sure, he lunged at him with a weapon, there is a bloody badge of an officer, things are sketchy to say the least, but still. It all happens so fast, I doubt he actually had the time to fully put two and two together quite yet.

And you can't tell me that Leon, a trained agent, just overestimated the power of his kick on accident. That ↓

Was a pretty much deliberate kick. What's interesting is that in the OG RE4, he at least tells the ganado to freeze a good couple of times (or maybe once, I don't remember the specifics, but my point still stands) before actually proceeding to harm him. Remake Leon, meanwhile... just breaks his neck without a second thought.

And his reaction right after makes it... pretty obvious, honestly.

There is no strong reaction there to offing an old man in his home. Now, granted, he hears a scream right after, so it's not like he has much time to stand and ponder over what happened! But the only thing he says right after is: 'This is not good.' And, yeah, true, but we do know Leon is capable of expressing some level of distress over something he finds disturbing, and he proceeds to do that literally a few minutes later once you start exploring the village. So really, it's an interesting scene and a very intriguing way of introducing this hardened version of Leon we'll be playing as.

I wouldn't be thinking about this as much if not for the circumstances surrounding it. Not like Leon is aware that this man is infected with anything. Up until the moment he gets back up, he could be just some disturbed, paranoid old man or something. And he did just walk into someone's house. He's an intruder here, really. But the moment danger presents itself, he eliminates the threat without a second thought.

I think it speaks volumes of the past 6 years that passed for him, and how they shaped him. We don't know much of Leon's job: what it entails exactly, what kind of work he does on the daily, how the entire structure operates. And before the events of RE4, it's not like he was a well-known agent, if I remember correctly. It's his successful rescue of Ashley that got him high in the ranks. His status as a Racoon City survivor didn't do that. Throughout RE4R, we see him regain his humanity through the connections with other characters, going from the cold, robotic way he caries himself at the start of the game, to the determined, emotionally-invested man we later see carrying Ashley to Luis' laboratory.

It's very neat to think about! And while we all love Leon for his kind heart and his drive to save innocent lives, he is more than capable of violence, and that's an aspect of him I wish was talked about more. That neck break was definitely not the first one for him, just saying.

[judasgot-it]

There Was Only One Bed

"We tend to get into these situations a lot, now, don't we? Shouldn't the hotel managers have known better at this point?"

Kaldo Gehenna Ver. Here

You and Orter had some sort of curse that had kept you working together for over two years now. Always, without fail, he would end up needing your help - last time it had been a flying mantacor, this time it was a violent unicorn who someone was keeping illegally in their home.

He can stop a violent beast from killing civilians but he couldn't stop property damage appearntly. That was too much work for him, it was just a 'clean up job' for a big and important guy like him. After all, he's the Desert Cane. That job was for the poor.

And for you.

You ran and kicked the back, watching him fold like a chair. He barely gave a shout, he merely stumbled and fell, his palms and knees scrapping against the cobblestone against your feet.

A laugh escaped you. Small revenge for that comment earlier.

”I'm about ready for a nap, I don't know about you.“

You stood over him, watching him search for his glasses. He was practically blind, his hand waving in the air as he searched for his lenses.

He looked pitiful, if only he hadn't said such a rude thing about your job earlier. But you gave him pity anyway, handing him his glasses back and watching as his eyes reappeared, giving you the meanest glare he ever had.

”What are you, an animal?“

He said this as he was still sitting on the ground, truly proper behavior from a stuck up who cared about the rules.

”No. But it's funny and you deserved it.“

You smiled, your face splitting apart in a shit eating grin.

“I don't think people deserve to be kicked.”

“They do when they insult others. You should try it sometime.”

Standing up, you offered your hand. Surprisingly he accepted it, pulling your down if only a little on purpose.

His grip was strong. It felt like he was trying to squeeze your bones out of your hand, and as if he were trying to pull you down with him. Payback.

"Let's go. I booked us rooms so we don't have to travel all night."

He stalked forward, walking ahead of you. There was a rush to catch up, your smaller steps having to leap in order to match up with his strides. He didn't acknowledge it, just nodding and continuing his pace.

What an asshole.

"How far is the inn?"

"Close. I'm not telling you."

Orter kept walking, his eyes focused on the path ahead of you.

"What? Why."

He scoffed, reaching around to flick your forehead. You dodged the onslaught, swatting his hand away.

"You would just kick me and try to get there first. Seriously, you don't have any respect for social decency."

Huffing, you tried to kick him again - your foot only made it halfway there until it was encased in a prison of sand.

Orter looked back at you, adjusting his glasses as his yellow eyes focused on your form. You could swear he was smirking, but it was wiped away in a second - maybe it was the glare you were sending him, who knew.

"Maybe you really are just an animal."

"Or maybe you're just an asshole!"

Stupidly, you pulled out your wand in hopes to cast a small spell at him. It was pointless, seeing as he had you disarmed with his stupid sand.

"You know we're in public, right? This just looks bad on your part."

Orter scoffed, letting you languish in his pile of inescapable sand if only for a little while longer. He reached over, gently hitting his knuckles against your head as he tried to physically knock some sense into you.

"Ow! What the hell!"

"I'm doing you a favor."

He gave a couple more knocks, as if it would make sure that you had some sense knocked into your head. You groaned, rolling your eyes as you felt his knuckles travel across your face, from your brow down to your cheekbones.

"What are you doing?"

You felt your face flush as his eyes traced your figure, golden eyes analyzing your form - it made you feel naked, and you could only escape by averting your gaze. His small huff of amusement made the feeling worse, your cheeks warming underneath his touch.

"Checking to see if you really have a brain underneath that skull. Seems like it's there, but I'm not sure."

There was no chance to retort as he dropped you roughly on the ground, leaving you to sputter and choke on offensive insults while he walked away, heading towards the hotel.

What an asshole.

-

This was a nightmare.

"Just take the bed, I'm not planning on sleeping anyway."

Orter looked at you with a straight face as he said this, pulling out a novel the hotel provided and tucking himself in a corner, as if that would be comfortable enough to be there for eight hours.

"Absolutely not. We can share, can't we?"

The bed was big enough for the two of you - maybe if you squeezed in, but you both paid for it, and it would be impossible to sleep knowing that there would be a man in the corner killing his neck while you laid down comfortably all night.

"I'm the man here. It's only proper that I allow the lady to take the bed."

"Excuse me? Are you really pulling that card right now?"

You took one of the pillows off of the bed, throwing it at the man. He seemed unphased, used to your outbursts.

What the hell was that about? Was he really going to treat you differently just because you were a girl?

"It's just the rules. I don't make them."

"Doesn't mean you have to follow them, ass!"

You slapped another pillow at his face. There was a struggle as he caught it, pushing you towards the bed and trying to subdue you - it had already turned late into the night, and your shouting was most likely disturbing the other guests.

It didn't matter to you. Orter deserved to be embarrassed.

Flipped him over, you tried to shove the plush cotton pillow over his face, struggling against his force. You felt him shift underneath you, his arms blocking your assault and preventing you from playfully suffocating him.

Your defense had been weak, perhaps too playful against your opponent. It was swiftly that he had worked to subdue you, his palm pressing against your shoulder while his knees worked against you, pinning you down against the soft bed.

The pillow was forgotten, with Orter merely staring down at you with his wasp-like eyes.

"This is rather improper of you-"

Growling, you threw your hand up, not really aiming for anything. It was with a shock that you felt your palm connect with his nose, and his weight fall against you as he took the hit on his face.

It was a moment later that blood began to drip down, making you cringe at the moment.

"Oh gods, I'm sorry."

Orter sat up, his hand attempting to cover the blood that began to drip from his nose. It was futile as it fell onto your shirt - the feeling was unpleasant, but you ignored it in favor of overwhelming guilt.

"Here. Um..."

There was nothing to aid him, besides your already soiled shirt. You handed the fabric to him, taking his bloody hands away from his face and trying to stop the bleeding that you caused.

He glanced at you, batting his dark eyelashes as he tilted his head down and ruined your shirt further. The fabric pulled against your ribcage as you both held it in place - at this point, it would be easier to take it off and hand it to him.

"fhanks."

"Thank you. For ruining my shirt."

"Is' nod my fauld' thad you hid' me." Orter's words were muffled by the shirt, and it was with a horrible ruttering sound, like an old rusty engine, that he tried to breathe in through his clouded and bloody nostrils.

Still ruining your shirt.

"You deserved it!" You deflected like it was breathing, "You're an asshole, manhandling me like that."

Drawing the fabric over your head, you shoved it in his face the best you could, still feeling his weight pinning you down at your hips. You would kick him if you could, but clearly, he had planned for this, not having moved from his position on top of you.

It took a moment to sink in the mistake you made, making eye contact with the man as he stared at you - making great effort to stay on your face and not look anywhere else.

He got off of you quickly, looking to the side and avoiding looking at you as if you had the plague. For once, you didn't shove his face for his perceived misdeed, instead taking the opportunity to cover your chest with the forgotten pillow, staring as Orter sat on the farthest edge of the bed, his warmth now sorely missed.

It had now gotten colder as it moved on in the night, no thanks to also having lost a shirt. There was nothing to say about that, as you would have to get up in order to get your day clothes - exposing yourself further to the man.

"Don't look at me." There was a crack in your voice as you said this, but you hoped that he would have been too distracted to really care about your state.

He glanced at you. The usual dull look on his face was painted red, his eyes wide as he turned away again, finding the floor much more interesting.

For once, he was speechless. No annoying taunts or a lecture about society - it was as if seeing your chest made him silent for once in his life.

Silently, he got up, his eyes still trailed downward. It was an awkward few minutes as you debated between getting up while shirtless and he struggled with forcing his bloody nose away with a pure force of will.

Despite being a double-liner, the man hadn't learned any spells to dispel such a pesty and annoying problem. How unfortunate.

It wasn't until a shirt was thrust into you direction were you broken out of your thoughts.

"Here. Sorry, just," Orter placed the shirt on your lap, turning to look back at the wall again as fast as he could "Take mine."

There was a long moment of silence.

It was a nice gesture. And you did feel bare, even underneath the pillow.

But this was Orter's shirt.

"Thanks. Um...we should go to sleep now."

You threw it on, trying your hardest to not focus on anything as you tried your best to straighten the fabric around you best you could. The shoulders were too large for your frame, making the buttoned collar fall too low on your skin.

It was better than nothing. At least you weren't forced to wear your dirtied shirt, which you assumed was somewhere off on the floor at the moment.

Silently, you forced yourself to lay down, going through the motions as you pushed the pillow underneath your head.

There was no body lying next to you. Instead, there was light breathing just below - it seemed like the asshole was still stubborn.

"Orter. I said we can share."

"I'd rather not. It's improper."

"I am literally wearing your shirt, what could possibly be more improper?"

"Sharing a bed."

You groaned, frustrated.

"Shut up, virgin."

That got the man up, unlike any other insult you had said. He crawled up onto the bed silently, his form dropping itself with a huff down onto the soft mattress.

"You are insufferable."

"Now that is improper."

The lights in the room went off, and you felt a light smack against your face.

"You should sleep."

"I am, Orter."

"Right."

His hand went up, feeling your face, as if to physically check for signs of your rest. His fingers trailed up and down your skin, tracing your nose and cheeks gently in the dark.

You could feel his thumb caressing your lips, as if you weren't still awake.

What a strange, strange man.

Anon asked for either or but I thought I could make it funny with Orter since he seems like such a rule guy. The vision is here. No confession and reader is kinda a tsundere cause idk...the vibes match.

Hope y'all enjoyed it. This is for my Valentine's event, it's still open and has slots open. go. ask away. do what you please.

[dadsbongos]

Hi! I was wondering if u write fic requests on minor characters? Holm from Dungeon Meshi is my fave character and it's saddening that there are only a few contents about him T^T (tho its understandable since he's, well, a minor character)

If it's okay w you, I wanna request a Holm x reader scenario where Holm introduces reader to his party as his partner, and everyone is suprised because they didn't expect a laid-back guy like him to be in a serious relationship with someone!

aaaa sorry if it's a bit short and bland I just want some fluffy imagines with the cute lil gnome ;-;

as long as i feel confident enough in my characterization of a character i'm more than happy to tackle minor characters!

holm is a lil cutie patootie so i get it anon

586 words / warnings - not super proofread ~~~

“Congratulations, big guy!” Mickbell claps Holm on the back, earning a startled flinch from the gnome.

“Thank you…” Holm sighs, choosing to ignore the rough jostling, “So as I saying, I finally bought a house. I’d really appreciate it if you all could come to dinner to celebrate.”

Daya scratches the back of her neck, lips pursing thoughtfully, “Can I bring my fiance?”

“Sure! It’ll be a great time for you all to finally meet my spouse as well.”

Kabru is first to respond, a despondent, broken, “wh-what…?” croaking out.

“You’re married?” Rin mutters, covering her twitchy mouth with a gloved hand and brows furrowing. If none of them knew her, they might think she was disgusted by the information.

Holm nods, “I never found the right time to bring it up, but now is perfect!”

“Married…” Kabru’s horrified, he had zero idea Holm was a taken man -- and he’d been meeting with the gnome’s sister often! Did she have no clue either? They weren’t the closest siblings, after all…

“See you all for dinner then?” Holm bypasses the man’s internal struggle completely.

Rin, still with elation masked as indignation, nods rapidly, “We’ll be there!”

… 

“Married,” Kabru’s still pouting by the time he and Rin arrive at Holm’s new residence, “And I had no clue…”

“He hardly minds,” Rin rolls her eyes, a kinder lilt overtaking her tone, “Besides, nobody else knew.”

Sighing wistfully, Kabru doesn’t expect her to understand, only continuing to mope.

“You’re probably the only one who brought a gift, so at least take that as a win,” Rin grumbles, annoyed by his angst, and knocks on the door.

Holm is not who greets them at the door, but rather a total stranger who already knows their names, “You must be Rin and Kabru! Welcome in, I’m glad you both could make it!”

Kabru’s terror only increases at the realization you know him by description, and he cannot even guess as to what your name is.

“I should die…” he whispers.

“Huh?” your eyes widen.

“Kabru! Rin!” Holm saddles up beside you, a hand finding the base of your spine while the other outstretches to accept his leader’s cradled gift, “You didn’t have to bring anything!”

“I would’ve felt terrible,” Kabru shakes his head, smile soft yet disarming.

You take it that you must’ve just misheard the nice man, then…

“You know,” Mickbell calls from where he’s lounging in Kuro’s lap on your couch, “I never would’ve taken you as the type for a serious relationship.”

Daya has half a mind to whack the man, and she probably would have if her own fiance hadn’t barked a laugh in approval. Instead, she swats him in the chest with a quiet grumble to be nice.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” if it weren’t for his gentle face, one could take the question as offended.

“You’re too laid-back…” Kuro huffs agreement to Mickbell’s point, “I would’ve thought a married man is more intense.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true,” Holm thankfully takes the jab with humor, “I’m seventy-six, not forty.”

“Imagine if you were?” you laugh.

“Nightmare, I’d be about you,” Holm chuckles.

“Oh, but it’d be flattering!”

“I was too immature.”

Mickbell scoffs, “Stupid long-living gnome and his stupid happy marriage.”

This time, Daya does smack the half-foot.

Meanwhile, Kabru is viciously examining yours and Holm’s body language and Rin is trying to psychically tell him to be normal.

“Your party’s very interesting…” you murmur to your husband.

“They’re just excited to be here.”

[cozage]

Five Stages of Grief

A/N: I'm so sorry.

CW: Major character death (you know the one. If you don’t, KEEP SCROLLING), spoilers for Marineford, depression, anger, just complete angst and sadness. 

Word count: 850

You didn’t think there was much to deny. You saw him die in front of you. It was a fact that the whole world knew. Portgas D. Ace was dead.

Denial came in the quiet moments. When you woke up in the middle of the night and reached for his warm body, only to find empty sheets. He must be in the bathroom, he’ll be back soon. 

It came at the dinner table, when you shot an irritated look at the man who sat down next to you. The guy didn’t even spare you a second glance, and you scoffed at his boldness. Everyone knows that Ace sits there. 

It came with orange hats and unexpected flames. A stranger in the crowd could turn into him at first glance just by a simple accessory. A building explosion down the street made your heart flutter.  He’s just around the corner. 

--

You weren’t an angry person. At least, not until after Ace died. Then the emotion came frequently and overwhelmed you. It was waiting for you at every corner, never letting you rest. Nobody was excluded from your wrath, either. 

Anger ripped into you the first time you laughed after his death. You turned to look for him, as you always did whenever someone on the crew made a fool of himself. You searched the room while you cackled with glee, not even realizing you were searching for him until you had done a complete circle. Laughter was instantly replaced with tears. You can’t laugh anymore, because he’s not here to share it with you. 

It ripped into you when you were sparring with a crew mate. You lost your footing, and he knocked you to the ground and disarmed you, forcing you to surrender. You screamed in rage, demanding a rematch. No wonder you lost him, you’re too weak to save anyone. 

It ripped into you when you heard another pirate crew make a jab at Pops in passing. Your blade is instantly against the leader's throat, telling him to repeat it to your face. They begged for mercy, and you granted it. They ran away, scared of the threat you posed. Why couldn’t he have run away, just once in his life?

--

You had started bargaining before you even went to rescue him. You begged and pleaded with every deity that you had ever heard of, and you abandoned them all for good when they failed you on that day. 

Bargaining began when you saw his wanted poster on an island after he was captured. You snatched it off the board, staring at his face. The face you were sure you’d never see again. The man who was supposed to be executed in five days. “Do you know him?” An elderly lady asked, a look of concern in her gaze. You ran out without answering, with the paper clutched against your chest. Please, don’t let this be the last time I see his face. 

It began when you saw the Strawhats all together again. You knew Kuma had sent them to different parts of the world with no way for them to return together before Ace’s death sentence. Everyone from the Whitebeard Pirates was at Marineford, a full crew united for one man. If Luffy's crew had been united too… If they had all been together, we might’ve been able to save him. 

It began when you awakened your devil fruit powers. Every single awakened devil fruit user was infinitely stronger than those who had not awakened theirs. If you had just awakened it earlier, you could’ve saved him.

--

You couldn’t hide your depression, and thankfully nobody asked you to. For a long time, you didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge others, didn’t come out of your room. When you finally started to act somewhat like your old self, most people thought the worst was over. 

Depression found you when friends took you shopping. You passed a hat shop, and they led you in to try some on. “You always looked so cute with a cowboy hat! You should get another one that’s more your style!!” He had always let you wear it, and you didn’t want anything other than that one. Nothing fit right like the way his hat did. 

It found you when the sun set. The sky mocked you, reminding you every day of the colors you lost. The red, orange, and yellow that represented the flame of his life draining away every night. He should be sitting here, matching the colors of the sky with his flames.

It found you when they sold his Striker. It didn’t make sense to hold onto, since Ace was the only one who could operate it. And such a notorious boat would fetch a high price. You watched it float away with its new owner, a ghost of the vessel it used to be. That boat will never sail again, not in the way it was built to. 

--

Acceptance wasn’t here yet. And you weren’t sure you’d ever see its light. You would never recover from this, that was one thing you were sure of.

[lexxierave]

When Fate Intervenes- tasm!Peter Parker x Reader Part 5

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

The last thing Peter expected to find during a routine robbery was y/n. 

He was going through his usual banter routine when the sight of you distracted him enough for the other robber to get the upper hand.

Now there was a gun pointed to her head and Peter hated the hostage situation as it was but something about seeing her in one made him into a very angry hero.

Something he didn't waste time showing with the people in the room. Unfortunately all he could do was agree to the terms set before him but that didn't mean he was actually going to follow them.

"Common Mike, get up already." The one with the gun shouted to his partner.

Great, Peter had the name of one of the goons, something to listen out for in the streets after they left.

The one with the gun moved with y/n out from the counter and to the back of the store. His partner was still trying to get the webbing off from his feet as he reached the backroom.

As Mike got the webbing off his feet the three quickly disappeared into the back room.

Peter was thankful he came in through the back and decided to show himself to the lady back there and tell her to get out, and that she actually listened to him. 

Last thing he needed was this guy to get spooked and shoot someone. Or have to deal with a Spider-Man hater too.

Peter dropped down from the ceiling once the thugs had left with y/n. 

"You're gonna go after them, right Spider-Man?" The guy that got hit in the face asked him. He was bleeding from his forehead

"You can count on it." Peter said as he listened closely, the sound of police and ambulance sirens could be heard. "Make sure you get that gash checked out."

"I will but please save y/n. I saw her grab some pepper spray. I'm afraid she might try and save herself." He warned.

Perfect just what Peter needed another variable added against him.

"Thanks for the tip." He replied before rushing out the back and jumping at the building across from him and climbing up it.

Peter had his ears opened to any sounds of distress or gun fire. He didn't leave too long after the robbers and he also didn't know what way they went. If they were on foot or in a vehicle now.

"Let me go!" He finally heard.

"Either there's two hostage situations going on or I hit a bingo." Peter thought to himself as he took off swinging in the direction of the shouting.

It looked like the two idiots had taken a vehicle only for it to break down. They were now trying to y/n force down back alleyways with them and being this was a crime neighborhood no one was helping.

A thwip was the only sound you heard before one of the goons disappeared.

"Hey! We had a deal Spider-Man!" The one holding your wrist yelled out.

Peter quickly disarmed him, "Deals off." He venomously replied.

You took it as you opening to pull the guys mask off and spray him with as much pepper spray as you could.

Thwip.

A shot of web hit your waist and you were pulled free and into the arms of New York's hero.

"Stay here." He commanded, in a voice that seemed deeper than what his normal voice should be.

Peter had you safe now it was time this guy learned his lesson for good. He shot some web behind the guys so fast he didn't even catch that there was a giant spider web now directly to his rear.

Peter just had to take a step forward for the guy to turn and run right into.

But Peter didn't want to stop there. Guys like him would just keep coming back and get more dangerous. No, to Peter he needed to end it here.

You watch as Spider-Man approaches the man and your once captor starts to throw punches at him. Spider-Man easily dodged them before he threw his own. The hits were filled with rage but you couldn't understand why, even though things had worked out in his favor. Why was he so angry? The final hit knocked the guy back and straight into the web and the hero took a

 step forward to continue.

"Stop!" You yelled out, finally finding your voice. The shock and adrenaline wearing off you. "This isn't how heroes are supposed to act."

Peter stopped for a moment regarding your words as you continued.

"Heroes are supposed to help people and stop the bad guys. But not like this. This doesn't make you any better than they are." You warned him.

You were right, but there was just so much loss and rage in Peter it fell on deaf ears. The man before him was battered and blooded. He lost consciousness with Peter's first hit and others were just his anger fueling him, urging him to keep going.

"Look I'm new to this whole superhero thing but my friend John is a big fan of yours. Please, don't do something to tarnish that." You pleaded with him.

At the mention of you having a friend Peter stopped, his eyes went wide. You told him you didn't have time for friends, so who's this John guy?

Intrigue took over Peter as he turned to face you now. He took notice of the way your hair looked slightly out of place from the struggle you were in and the red ring around your wrist that you'd have to explain to him tomorrow. 

You were like a puzzle to Peter and he wanted to solve you but some pieces his body didn't react logically to. Why should he care if you have a friend named John? He shouldn't. He doesn't. Does he?

"Um…no. Can't have John thinking poorly of me." Peter finally answered when he realized he had been staring at you for a little too long. Maybe John was just made up? Someone to take the place of what she really thought of him? He could live with that.

"Good. So…if you're finished here," You told the hero, circling your finger around in front of you "I'm gonna head home." 

"Wait!" He shot out, causing you to stop.

"At least let me take you home, I want to make sure you get there safely." He pleaded.

"That's ok." You answered, taking a step back as he took one towards you.

He might be John's hero but after seeing him easily beat up a guy to a pulp like it was just a Sunday walk and how he seemed to have no remorse for how badly he hurt him?

You weren't so sure if he was fully deserving of the hero title. Maybe antihero seemed like a better fit at this point in his career. You still weren't sure.

Part 6

[wordsandrobots]

Knots

Series: Wishing on Space Hardware [extra]

Fandom: Iron-Blooded Orphans

Rating: Gen

Summary: Some time before the events of To Catch a Falling Star, Shino gets a lesson in perspective.

Notes: I have a couple of ideas for short fics knocking around and this is the first one I wrote up, providing a little extra development for a couple of original Gjallarhorn characters and featuring my favourite himbo. If you've read the fic linked above, you'll know how this fits in. Otherwise, um, go read Wishing on Space Hardware, I guess?

Posted here as a small festive season treat; hopefully I'll have another for you come New Year's Eve.

“You want me to what?” Lin asked, clearly sharing Torvald's bafflement at Shino's request.

The kid pulled a face and rubbed the back of his head. “So I was in this fight once – I went up against a guy in one of those fancy Grazes with all the extra thrusters. You know, a Schwalbe? And I messed it up, big time. He got me tangled in a cable and I'd have been totally screwed if he hadn't gotten pulled away by something else. But I figured, I'm a lot better than I was back then and with the stuff I've been learning about different Gjallarhorn 'suits, I bet I could handle it now.”

Which was at least enough detail to make sense of the original request. Torvalds swapped a glance with Lin and said, “You want one of us to tie you up with a smart rope, while you try to stop that happening. Is that the size of it?”

Shino grinned. “Pretty much. What do you think?”

After a moment, Lin shrugged. “Making second attempts at old missions is a good training exercise.”

“Then I vote you on turkey-trussing duty,” Torvalds told her, reaching for the input controls. “Schwalbes are too temperamental for my liking.”

“Sure.”

“OK, Shino, give us the starting conditions.”

“Right! Well, I was in this Graze we'd modified and I was using a Kutan…”

There followed, from Torvalds' point of view, a very entertaining afternoon spent watching an exercise in masochism, as Shino tried repeatedly to wriggle free of the trap he'd set for himself. Time and again his bright pink space-type Graze went up against Lin's yellow and black Schwalbe, and time and again he was forced to hit the abort button. They hadn't decided on a firm failure condition, but it was hard to argue getting disarmed and stuck immobile didn't count as a loss.

The problem was easy to see from the outside: the kid just didn't think like a pilot. Despite the uncanny reflexes augmentation had given him, his basic foundations remained sloppy. He fought like a man trained in fist-fights, trading tactical advantages for up-close damage. Which was not to say he lacked skill at what he did, or couldn't make a formidable enemy. Simply that, facing someone who knew every trick to making a Graze sing – or beg for mercy – he was always going to come up short

“Fuck!”

There was an edge of despair to this latest curse. The sound of a man hitting his limit. Lin must have heard it too because she cracked her simulator open, calling for a break. Her brow was furrowed, somewhere between thoughtfulness and concern.

Torvalds crossed to the other pod. “Drink?” he offered, holding out a carton.

Sweat had darkened the short fuzz of Shino's hair and left his forehead glistening. He lurched forward in his seat as it rose level with the catwalk, reaching behind him to disconnect his Alaya-Vijnana. Only after burying his face in his hands for a good five seconds did he acknowledge Torvalds, taking the carton with a mumble of thanks and downing fully half in one long slurp.

“Pushing yourself pretty hard on this, aren't you?”

“Dunno how else I'm supposed to win,” he gasped before going after the rest of the water at a more sensible pace.

“Maybe you need a different approach.”

“Shit, man… if you've got suggestions, I'm all ears. I've tried everything I can think of.”

“Well, how about changing the starting parameters? The way you've set this up, I'm not sure any of us could get out of it.”

“This is how it happened, though.”

“Nobody ever fights the same battle twice.” Lin came up to join Torvalds, slipping quietly into the space he'd left on the other side of the walkway. She was still frowning. “That isn't why we train on past scenarios.”

“But I'm better than I was! I oughta be able to –”

Torvalds cut him off. “Are you fighting to prove a point or do you want to win?”

The blank look was almost answer on its own. “I'm… trying to prove a point by winning?”

“Then you're wasting everybody's time. Lin's right. We use the past to work out what changes we need to make for the next go around.”

“That's what I'm doing.”

“Yes, but you're treating yourself as the only variable. You haven't made a single adjustment to your machine settings since you started. And I know you're not the type to have a complex about fighting fair. So I'm starting to think nobody ever taught you the golden rule about picking your battles.”

“Look,” Shino growled, tone switching from petulant to annoyed, “maybe I didn't go to your fancy academy, but I've done plenty of real fighting. You don't always get to pick.”

“Maybe not the time and place or who you're going to tangle with. But there are plenty of other things you should be considering.”

Lin started ticking off her fingers. “Mobile suit, munitions, equipment load-out, system parameters, squad configuration, launch position, attack vector, combat strategy, support options…”

“You change whatever you're able to,” Torvalds concluded. “Doing that effectively is something we're taught at the academy, and we've both had years of real fights of our own to perfect the skill.”

“Which is one of the reasons I just beat you fourteen times in a row.”

For an instant, it looked like Shino was going to properly lose his temper. An ugly spark had ignited, deep in his eyes, ready to come out swinging. But then he balled up his right fist, pseudo-flesh stretching taut over the cybernetics underneath, and the anger disappeared behind a rueful little laugh. “OK, OK, you're both way smarter than me. I get it. What should I change?”

Torvalds chuckled too, happy to keep this pleasant. “You're the one who's lost the same fight fifteen times. You tell us.”

“Well, uh… I'd ditch the Kutan for a start. I thought it'd help get me to closer to the enemy but it's just slowing me down. Can't get clear of it quick enough if I start out inside it, so I should probably forget about trying to use it all together.”

“Smart. A transporter like that's good for point-to-point insertions but you're right. It isn't built for up-close work, especially against a hyper-manoeuvrable opponent. What else?”

“I mean, what else am I allowed to change? I guess I could mess around with the settings like you said, but if I just swap to a more powerful machine, what'd be the point? What'll that teach me?”

“How to handle a stronger mobile suit,” Lin said simply.

“I can fly Gundams! You already know I can handle some pretty awesome stuff.”

“Then switch to a Reginlaze and pull my arms off.” She circled a finger in the air. “Work through the problem. What do you need to change?”

“Well, yeah, with a Graze I don't have the strength to just tear through the cable. But… it's not only strength, is it? You're way more manoeuvrable than me, like Torvalds said – and, hey, you've got more thrust, right? The frame isn't any stronger than mine, you just get more omph on your moves.”

“Pretty much.”

“So can I get some better boosters? We had a couple of different types on the Ryusei-Go and I think I liked them more than these ones.”

“The… what?”

“Oh, uh… the Graze custom I used back then. That was – my call-sign, I guess? Oh, hey, Gjallarhorn's got mobile suit handguns, doesn't it? That big rifle, it's kinda bulky. I need something I can use easier at close-range.”

Without waiting for an answer, Shino dropped his seat back into the simulator and began tapping through menus on the console. Bracing on the edge of the pod, Lin leant over to peer at what he was doing. “If you're thinking of suppressing fire, just ditch the long-range barrel. GR-W01's are fine in a short configuration if you don't need high accuracy.”

“Should I be taking advice from someone I'm trying to beat? Ooo, knives! Those'll definitely work better than the axe…”

Torvalds stepped back, watching student and teacher work. He'd spent his career killing kids like Shino. Mercenaries, pirates, revolutionaries. Junk pilots and human debris. The ones who got far enough to draw attention they really shouldn't have, whose luck and guts were no replacement for discipline or proper training.

Regretting it would have been hollow. A soldier bound themselves to the cause, fighting where and when and who they were told. That was the job.

Still –

“Hey, Torvalds,” Shino called. “What's the best Graze type? Lin won't give me a straight answer.”

“Well, that depends. How are we defining 'best'?”

“Come on, you already said you didn't like Schwalbes. Gimme something to work with, man!”

Still, perhaps helping this kid lose a few bad habits would be worth something in the final accounting. “I'm serious. They're mostly specialised variants, so it all depends on what you're trying to achieve…”

[rattyshipss]

Malcolm Bright headcanons:

Meeting and working at the precinct together

Always going out of your way to take care of Malcolm, automatically volunteering to do the more dangerous work, going after the more dangerous criminals, going to see his dad for him, doing the more risky operations, even to the point you'd kill for Malcolm so he didn't have to hold that guilt of thinking he's becoming like his father

And everybody but Malcolm knows it

The others would make little comments about how hopelessly in love with him you are resulting in Malcolm looking around in confusion

"Oh like you don't know" "Actually I really don't think he does" "How could he not know?!"

You and Malcolm end up having a major flirty in love dynamic for awhile before it actually gets brought to a head

During one particular case everything was going wrong

You were working a grueling case on a wanted murderer for the past month

You all ended up coming together at a location to find the suspect

Malcolm and you were disarmed while the others were busy holding off other aspects the suspect had put in place

Malcolm desperately trying to get to you while you were being threatened, Martin laying behind you knocked over from taking a hit

Right before Malcolm was about to have to watch the love of his life get taken from him Martin managed to reach a weapon and tossed it your way allowing you to defend yourself and end up taking out the suspect in the end of all the chaos

Random headcanon I just thought of because I'm in a bath as I'm writing this but it fits so perfectly you and Malcolm would ABSOLUTELY take baths together

Oh my god it'd be so sweet and pure and healing it would be perfect

I have a feeling both of you would try to set up beautiful romantic baths for eachother all the time only to find the other already did

Imagine getting to gently wash Malcolm's hair and body and help him relax like he deserves

He'd protest at first telling you you don't have to but as soon as you bury your soap covered hands in his hair and start massaging his scalp he's melting into you almost falling asleep there

Imagine getting to gently scrub down his shoulders and back leaving little kisses against his skin on the way, making sure he feels safe and cared for and loved

It would be soft, sweet, healing alone time between the two of you and it would be perfect

(Slight spoilers for tsitp) So I don't even watch tsitp (Even tho I probably should) but I watch a lot of edits from it because I LOVE the edits (Especially the Taylor ones) and I've been watching the edits of that dancing scene from the most recent episode and I can totally imagine you and JT having to go undercover and planning some sort of dance like that as a diversion on a case and maybe you guys aren't able to do it and you make some joke about not getting to do it so JT does it with you anyway like Steven in tsitp "Making you?!"

His mother would be watching and absolutely hate it but Edrisa would be watching and cheering you on (And if his dad happened to be there he'd love it too)

And Malcolm staring at you the entire time

Malcolm ogling you is actually quite a common occurrence

He would also absolutely memorize your favorite song from the dance

[icharchivist]

siete does use the swords he has on him in the fights in the mobage. up until his 5* uncap anyway but yknow. like a normal person. but yeah him constantly pulling out spirit swords for everything else kinda squanders the tactical advantage imo. like. imagine fighting this guy who is dual wielding swords and you somehow through some miracle manage to disarm him and then he pulls out the magic ghost swords and fully kicks your ass while youre crying because you thought you had him on the ropes

okay unless hes going for the opposite approach and if you manage to smack the spirit sword out of his hand and then he pulls out the other two and you realize oh. he has two now. that sucks

i guess theres an oh fuck moment included in every siete fight for free but why am i telling you this lmao you got run over by his car before

i still think it would be more tactical to keep the spirit swords hidden for a surprise but i guess he can do what he wants. not like i could stop him

LMAOOO

i do think it makes more sense of him that the two swords are for show, he fights with them, but if they get knocked off or he's in a difficult position he can surprise his opponant because BAM: more swords!

and just starting with the spirit sword would be weird there. but i think he uses his spirit sword against mc bc MC knows anyway so no point with keeping up the charade.

and i'm sure his two swords aren't his best swords, so if he really is up for a challenge, he'd summon his spirit swords.

but those scenarios are so funny pls

"i guess theres an oh fuck moment included in every siete fight for free but why am i telling you this lmao you got run over by his car before" im absolutely crying. yes i keep getting run over by his car. i'll never be free.

but yeah honestly he probably does whatever he wants. it's not like anyone can fight him anyway.

[xtrablak674]

I Tried To Save Them

Looking down at the back of my wrist there was a swelling, I didn't recall being bitten. I looked up and I was besides my colleagues coming out of a bar. Bar, wait I don't drink. I am getting my senses about me and feel a gun holstered at my waist near my back and in the center of my back feels like a handcuff case. I pat my left breast and feel what must be a badge and identification, I never take it out, I never look at it. Looking at my friends one who is now calling my name, that I never hear I realize they are also packing weapons and handcuffs, poorly concealed under suit jackets. I am law enforcement?

Not a moment to consider this before we are piling into a car and heading somewhere. I remember leaving for the destination I didn't remember arriving as we pile out of the car and head up the long winding stairs of this clearly residential home in this clearly suburban neighborhood. But weren't we just drinking or something I detect no alcohol on my breath but it doesn't seem like we would be on duty after coming from a bar.

The three of us knock on the door a small boy answers. I'm guessing we're here for some kind of domestic dispute which doesn't seem right we seem like we handle different kinds of cases. The next thing I know I am disarming what must have been the young boy's father I'm also speaking into an earpiece about subduing the suspect.

That confusion again my body had muscle memory in how I meticulously wrestled the weapon from the assailant and had him on the ground on his belly before he could even blink. When did I get this training? I am a... I can't seem to recall what I really am supposed to be, but I understand that we have radioed for back up. I get the perpetrator to his feet and hand him off to my partner. I see patrol cars pulling up I holster my gun and reach for my badge which is now to the left of my navel. I'm holding it up as I yell to the officers federal agent!

That confusion again, I'm not only a law enforcement officer I am a federal agent, when did this happen? Then my instinct kicks in, the arriving officers don't seem to be friendlies they are parking their cars in a way that is expecting resistance, their guns are out and pointed at me. I step back inside and call to my nameless faceless partners, this can't be right. I have drawn my own weapon in instinct and fear, I hold it down by my side as I speak into my earpiece about the change in the situation. Who am I speaking to?

Time has moved forward again and someone who looks like a Sargent is coming towards me from the interior of the house. How the fuck did he get in here between my partners and I we had all the exits covered. I reach for my gun which is holstered again. It seems the situation has deescalated but every thing is wrong. There wasn't any incident our assailant is no longer restrained it seems like nothing has happened here, but why are we here. I am sure someone was in danger.

Time slips again and my partners and I are walking down a street heading toward a bar, we can hear some guys coming out as we arrive but they are already in their car by the time we arrive we pass an adult version of the little boy we had seen earlier his distinguishing eyes remind me of Jared Leto, but he can't be the same kid we just saw.

We are walking up a darkened street I'm a bit jumpy by a night jogger I reach for my gun. I looked down at the back of my wrist there was a swelling, I didn't recall being bitten. I'm sitting at my desk writing, I save what I'm doing and go back to bed.

[Photo by Brown Estate]

[n4kama]

Luffy raised an eyebrow at the comment about his Gramps being senile, he watched as the prisoners ran away from the man, he had an air around him like the axe guy that Sab had reminded him about; there was something wrong and dark surrounding him and Luffy would be remiss if he allowed him to keep tainting the light and freedom of the world. "Zoro"

It only took one word from his Captain for Zoro to know what was being requested of him. With a sharp nod, Zoro easily drew his blades, he shot forward in one quick, smooth, movement and aimed straight for the disgusting Captain's head. While Luffy knew that killing was inevitable the vast majority of the time, his Captain still had a low kill count to his name, preferring to disarm and knock out his enemies to prove that there were, indeed, good pirates in the world. But if a point was to be made, and quickly, then Zoro held no reservations to be the one to end someone's life.

Sanji caught the whisper from the interesting marine, he shared a look with Luffy before he moved at the same time as Zoro, the swordsman being the distraction as he moved to the young marine's side. "You getting off this hellhole with us? or staying? I'm sure if you're aware of Smoker then you don't deserve to be here."

Luffy smirked as he sensed his brother beginning to control the rain that fell around them, keeping his brother locked up was a terrible idea. There was a reason that Gramps kept him close to him. Ace was quick to anger, his temper burning hot and fast, but too fast to cause damage, Luffy was slow to anger and when he was angered, then his fury would destroy everything around him, but he could be calmed by those he trusted. Sab was dangerous when angered, very few were willing to go near him to temper the storm that would rage when he was willing to lose his control. However, Luffy knew that he could get through to Sabby as soon as he let him have his revenge.

"I will continue to do so until you determine that you wish to be known as something else" Robin easily replied with a small smile at him, she could sense the power coming from him but was unphased by it "Come, I believe the Captain has probably ordered the end of the coward by now, he truly does not understand that Luffy is not just the lovable idiot that he percives himself to be."

"To think he'd betray the Marines like that... Senility often accompanies old age. Sakazuki's Absolute Justice is correct, and by it's doctrine, you must be destroyed, along with that traitor sibling of yours." The man stepped forward, either overconfident in his own abilities or expecting more people to back him up as prisoners scurried away. "Probably Sanji's option, I doubt he took it well." The Cadet whispered, he had cyan hair and green eyes and knew Smoker for a time when he served under him. "You're all dead, brats. More are coming, you're all going to prison for life... I'll be given a medal." Once again, Mulligan's jowl swelled like an overexcitable frog. He hadn't seemed to notice the darkening of the skies, or the increasing amounts of rain. What had been a light mist was threatening to become an untenable downpour as he suddenly realized, lightning cracking in the sky. "Miss Robin, what fortuitous timing. I've been having lots of fun on my vacation." Saburo snarked with a cheeky grin, quickly infusing his metal cuffs with Haki and hitting them against the bars, causing the metal pins to pop out before slipping the seastone bracelet over his hand. He sighed, clearly considerably more comfortable as he shattered the lock with a raindrop fired from his fingertip. "And I'm afraid my Marine rank is likely in name only, I've probably been defrocked of it. But thank you for addressing me by it all the same." His lower half had a tattered pair of pants and his upper half was bare, covered in welts from being whipped and the unmistakeable burns of cigarettes, some were infected and he looked positively emaciated, his lips were dry, cracked and his throat hoarse, indicating dehydration. "Mulligan will have called for reinforcements. He's a coward and he'll be wanting to escape." Saburo stated, looking out into the storm and intensifying it, becoming one with it. "A battlecruiser and 2 frigates, 34 degrees north, approaching at 10 knots a second. They'll never reach the island, for a rough tempest I will raise..." The weather was getting worse as the wind picked up.

[howlingday]

Dumb lancaster request)

Ruby and Jaune were fighting in the are. Jaune was able to disarm Ruby but then (thanks to yang training) ruby put Jaune in choke bold, between her thighs and Jaune just gave up. Stopped fighting, adopted a smile on his face (not perverted one, but one of content) and let his consciousness fade.

Now, i would love to see everyone reaction to this and

Scene later when Jaune woke up and his friends (much to ruby's embarassment) decided to talk about it and please add line similar to these:

(whoever you chose): Jaune, you were almost choke to death by ruby's thighs!

Jaune: And i enjoyed every second of it! If these legs will by my demise then by oum i will accept it my fate with smile on my face!

"You lose, Craterface." Jaune said with a cocky smirk.

Ruby's weapon was knocked away easily. She expected this, since the condition for this matchup was not to use semblances, and since Jaune hadn't unlocked his yet, the match-up was a bit easier... for him. For her, it was slightly more difficult.

Crescent Rose was a weapon for killing the creatures of Grimm, finely tuned to be a lethal weapon in the hand's of the red reaper. Ruby never intended to use the weapon for harming people. She figures that's part of why she lost her weapon so easily; she couldn't stand the idea of hurting her cr- friend, Jaune.

Luckily, Ruby had been trained for this event. Yang and her Dad made sure she didn't leave home alone with learning a few self-defense techniques. Rushing forward, she side-stepped a swing from Jaune's sword arm, grabbing and pulling herself into the air. She threw a leg around Jaune's head, bringing the other around the other side, using her momentum to spin around his head, feet clasped together as she spun three times before twisting and sending them both to the ground.

Jaune dropped his weapons and slapped his hand on the floor. It was fun while it lasted, but he knew he was beat. Professor Goodwitch called the match, and Ruby loosened her thighs.

"You did good, Jaune." Ruby praised. She thought he would take the loss hard, but that wasn't the case. Instead he seemed calm, happy even. When she tried to part her legs, he grumbled.

"Yo, what's going on, Rubes?" Yang asked from the bleachers.

"I think I knocked Jaune out!" Ruby called back. "What should I do?"

"Step away, Miss Rose." Ruby split her legs apart and moved away. Jaune instantly sat up and yawned. "Are you alright, Mister Arc?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jaune rubbed his eyes. "I must have fallen asleep."

"Our fight wasn't that boring!" Ruby fumed.

"Wait, we were- Oh, right! We we were fighting!" Jaune smacked his fist into his palm. "I remember you grabbing me, but then I suddenly felt sleepy and passed out."

"Hm, in any case, the match is over. Please return your weapons to their lockers and return to your seats."

"Yes, Professor Goodwitch." Her students replied.

The two returned to their seats next to one another, with their teams on their respective sides. Ruby's sister glanced between the two with a mixture of worry and anger, while her partner paid more attention with interest to their leader.

"So," Yang began, "what exactly happened down there?"

"What do you mean?" Ruby asked in return. "Jaune knocked Crescent Rose away, so I had to use that move you taught me."

"Oh, so you taught her that move?" Blake's attention shifted to the blonde brawler.

"It's just a move I taught her to keep her out of trouble." Yang defended herself. " I didn't teach her how to wrap her legs around a guy's head, though. It was supposed to be a kick to the backside."

"I improvised." Ruby shrugged.

Weiss refused to comment. Instead, she glared at the oppsing team's leader, who was being pelted by his own team's questions. How a perfect being like Pyrrha Nikos could stand to be under that buffon's leadership is something she would never understand.

"Are you sure there's nothing going on between you two?" Nora asked.

"It was just a sparring match, Nora." Jaune answered.

"That ended with her legs wrapped around your head." She added.

"It just happened!" Jaune held his hands up defensively. "I didn't have a say in any of it!"

"Are you sure?" Nora asked. "Maybe Ruby's got a-"

"Nora," Ren spoke with an admonishing tone, "it's none of our business."

"Thank you, Ren." Jaune smiled.

"If Jaune and Ruby are dating, then that's not something we should worry about."

"Oh, come on, Ren!"

Pyrrha gave a half-hearted pat to Jaune's shoulder. "I'm happy for you, Jaune."

"There's nothing going on between us!" Jaune groaned, a hand over his face, while his other hand held Ruby's behind them.

[helloliriels]

You Can See Me (pt.3)

by helloliriels (READ: previous chapter if you missed it!)

221 Baker Street had a welcoming air to it!

John stepped from the cab, breathing in a deep lungful before plunging forward to his fate …

There was a cozy little restaurant next door and a wrought iron fencing along the street. A charming slice of London … he hoped the rent was not too high?

A *ping* alerted him to an incoming text, and John looked down in surprise to see that Mike had texted him today.

Opening it up - as he was a minute early - he read it:

Do you need Hastings number?

John shot off a quick reply:

Checking out Baker Street. Sherlock.

Another *ping* rushed in …

Are you serious? Be careful, mate. Text me when you leave.

John chuckled. Ok, MUM!

Will do!

He texted back with a snort and snapped his phone shut. Looking up again at the flat he was about to call home … or hoped to at least …

What was Mike all bothered about? This Sherlock guy a problem of some kind? He should have stayed and listened to what Mike’d have to say … it just … felt like it was going to be some kind of gossip … and John was not a fan of people spreading rubbish!

(more is under the cut ...)

He was left to wonder, as a sweet old lady opened the front door and stood on the step smiling at him. “Are you John Watson?” she asked, grinning from ear-to-ear! John liked her already …

“I am!”

“Here to see Sherlock?” She asked again, looking a little … hopeful?

“Guilty as charged!” He laughed in reply, “As long as he is still interested in seeing me?”

“Oh, I'm sure he is, dear! Haven't seen him this pleased in ages! Him inviting company?! Never thought I'd live to see the day!” She looked John over in wonder. “You’ll have to tell me ALL about yourself later! I’m Sherlock’s landlady.”

“I will be sure to do that … Missus … ?”

“Hudson, dear! But Sherlock calls me Hudders, and you may as well!” She patted his back as she directed him into the hall and up the stairs. Watching him carefully take them with his cane. One at a time …

John looked back at her, apology written in his eyes. “Injury from the war.” He laughed it off, tapping at his inexplicably gamey leg with his cane.

“Oh, don’t worry dear!” She replied, patting at her own thigh, “I’ve got a hip! Take your time. Sherlock is in no hurry!”

She tutted and spun about, heading into what John assumed must be her residence, promising to come up shortly with some tea for them both!

She seemed lovely …

.......................................

By the time John made it to the top of the stairway, he felt a little winded … and nervous for the first time in … ages …

He smiled at the thought. Again, imagining what he was about to walk into? How to make the best impression?

He hadn’t done a terribly good job yesterday, and really, really, really wanted this to be a success!

He cleared his throat. Straightened his jacket and collar. Unbuttoning the top button as he already felt a bit warm, and went to knock …

Sherlock opened the door.

“Hello!” John smiled, turning up the brightness to his smile!

Sherlock grinned in reply. A soft, sweet thing that curled down the corner of his mouth only. It should have been a frown on anyone else … but it was oddly charming … and disarming at the same time.

John could have just stood and stared at him for hours … but realising it had been a moment too long already for most people’s taste, he looked down at his shoes instead.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come …?” Sherlock was asking, incredulous and wondrous and welcoming John into the sitting room.

John followed eagerly, thanking him and looking about as he spun around.

“Figured Mike would have -”

John cut him off there, “he tried!” He realised he was still smiling - Christ, was this going to be a permanent thing?? “I didn’t listen!”

Sherlock seemed to be pleased with his rebellious answer and was bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to show John around. They did a quick tour of the place. Sitting room, kitchen/dining, hall, upstairs bedroom “If you’ll be needing two?” Mrs. Hudson called out. She had just come up with the tea things, as Sherlock led him past the kitchen to show him where the loos and his own bedroom was …

John blushed a little, peeking in at Sherlock’s invitation. Cognisant of Hudders words just a moment ago … he and Sherlock met eyes momentarily, and looked away again only reluctantly when she insisted they get some while it was piping hot!

John came over and sat down in a plush red chair Sherlock had by the fire …

“You furnish the place, Hudders?” he asked, trying to follow her instructions to a ‘T’ with the nickname, and earning another delighted beam from Sherlock. He accepted a cup from her outstretched hand and noted that Sherlock was not drinking?

“Not feeling like a cuppa?” John asked, complementing Mrs. Hudson on a fine brew!

“There’s biscuits too, dear,” she tut-tutted at Sherlock’s pulled face, John noticed. Taking great pleasure in having company here … They behaved more like mother and son, than landlady and tenant … John thought this might just be the perfect environment to rehabilitate into polite society.

“SO! John?” Sherlock was asking, nodding for him to continue with his tea, as he wandered on over towards the mantle.

“That’s … a skull?” John asked, all curiosity as he swallowed down the tea and stood up to join Sherlock by the fireplace.

“Friend of mine,” Sherlock allowed him to pick it up and examine it, “well … I say ‘friend’. I -”

“What do you think then, Doctor Watson?” Mrs. Hudson asked, interrupting - clearly preparing to leave them to it!

“It is a lovely place, Mrs - I mean - Hudders! Looks just perfect …” here he turned to Sherlock again, “how soon do you want me?” He smiled up at the taller man.

Sherlock stepped forward, placing his hand on John’s shoulder and turning to Mrs. Hudson.

“Okay if John moves his things in here tomorrow? Or … “ he looked back at John, “I mean … you’re welcome to … tonight? If you have no other engagements keeping you?”

“Free as a bird!” John laughed, “to be honest, the place I’m staying is a bit lifeless? I … wasn’t really looking forward to going back. Could use some company before I go bat-shit crazy. If you’ll pardon my -”

“No pardon needed, Mrs. Hudson - would you mind calling Mycroft and asking him to send for John’s things?” He turned back to John, “just write down the address. We can have everything sent for. You won’t even have to move a muscle.”

John felt spoiled and a little embarrassed at the offer! But … “Christ! I mean … yeah? If … you’re sure it’s not imposing?” He looked back at Sherlock, and then to Mrs. Hudson?

“My brother likes to make himself useful …” Sherlock waved his concerns aside, “he practically runs the British government. He can certainly serve the everyman once in a while, instead of just talking about it. Will keep him humble.”

John laughed at being called an everyman. He was, he supposed …

“He will certainly be in for a surprise,” Sherlock added under his breath.

John scribbled down the address and handed it over to Mrs. Hudson, also digging out the key from his pocket with a look to Sherlock. Sherlock nodded. “Thank you Mrs. Hudson!” He was calling after her as she went off to ring for the brother.

John sat back down, bouncing a little in the cushioned chair before it struck him! “Oh! Shit, Sherlock? Would you mind? Do I need to warn your brother about my …”

“Sidearm?” Sherlock grinned knowingly, “his minions have seen worse. They are used to drug busts and much uglier paraphernalia, let me tell you!”

John laughed. Relieved.

“Most at my hands, oddly enough …” Sherlock seemed to grow a bit melancholy at that thought, so John thought to change the subject.

“Really appreciate it!” He was saying, picking up another biscuit and pouring out a bit more tea to drink, “all of it, really! Even inviting me here? I … wasn’t sure I was quite in your league? This place not cost a packet to rent?” John looked around a bit more. Really was nice and open for being right in the heart of London?! A perfect location for getting about the town! “I see all your things are unpacked?” He was trying to make conversation, “yesterday? You finish unpacking? After the lab … ?”

Sherlock looked around, amused. “Think nothing of it. Simply delighted you came by the lab yesterday. I was getting a bit hollow myself! Umm …” he went and took his seat in the chair opposite John. A sleek black leather and modern chrome sort of design … it suited him.

And those suits …

Sherlock looked dressed to the nines!

John wasn’t sure HOW he had failed to observe it sooner? Perhaps too busy staring into his new flatmate's eyes??

“Rent is quite reasonable! Should be able to afford it between us. Mrs. Hudson gives me a break on account I helped her a few years back … Though I keep telling her she doesn’t owe me anymore for that. Her husband was sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out.”

“You stopped him getting executed?” John asked, sitting upright with curiosity. Teacup still in hand.

“Oh no! I ensured it.” Sherlock took the empty cup from John’s hands and sat forward. Looking at it. Then at John. Closely.

John licked his lips and glanced back up at the skull. Keenly aware of being observed, and fully allowing it. “You were saying … friend?” John nodded back up at the mantle, wondering again about the human remains?

“Keeps me company,” Sherlock acknowledged, “though … carrying it around does rather draw attention …”

He was looking back at John. A sad expression crossed his features, only momentarily, before he asked, seemingly out of the blue, “where did you first see death?”

John blinked. Taken aback by the question. “You mean another’s? Or my own brush with?” He patted at his scarred shoulder.

“Ah!” Sherlock leaned back in his chair, as if that explained everything …

John puzzled. Brows knit. “Ah?”

“The limp, is it psychosomatic then?” Sherlock was steepling his hands in front of his lips and inspecting John with incredible intensity …

John almost felt like unbuttoning his shirt for examination at this rate …

“If you’d like to?” Sherlock asked.

John jolted as if Sherlock had read his thoughts …

“Like to?”

Sherlock shook himself free from the chair and stood up abruptly, turning away. “Like to … pick out a room for them to put your things in? You can have the upstairs or ...”

“Are you … ?” John also stood up, again, licking his lips and having a hard time processing what he was just asked … ? Was Sherlock offering for him to share his room? Not that he’d mind!

Sherlock turned around, seemingly alive with energy and grabbed John by the shoulders - nodding his head, “Yes?!” He half-asked-half-said in awe … and John again found himself staring deeply into Sherlock’s mesmerising eyes …

He really shouldn’t but …

Their smiles slowly melted and they were staring at each other as if …

John reached out his hand and brushed Sherlock’s cheek. Watching the reaction it engendered. Tears almost visible in the eyes of his, apparently, touch-starved friend? He needed only a second to catch his breath. Careful and hesitant, before he saw the nod. Almost a beg. For him to continue …

He cupped both sides of Sherlock’s face and invited him down, tilting their heads to kiss softly.

Sherlock’s hands found their way to latching onto John’s hips, and John couldn’t help but step closer. Taking his time to express his thanks. This was certainly not the way he thought his day would go …

But … again … not complaining …

One thing was for sure ...

He would not be texting Mike anytime soon!

(to be continued ...)

tagging @johnlocky @fluffbyday-smutbynight @ohlooktheresabee @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @writing5ever @raina-at @superhollykat @dissolvinggirl @whatnext2020 @samtheskald @melmey @catlock-holmes @smol-hufflepuffle @i-call-me-clarence @majesticnerdyvee @totallysilvergirl @pocketwatchofmycroft @johnlock-rocks @eplapourdissant @ephemeraljimin @2smach @mslovet @johnlockiseverywhere @jrow @forfucksakejohn @eurosstudyinsherlock @iamjustreading @chinike @rhasima @merlynn-consultingdisaster @the-smol-bean-libby-blog @glass-rose-paperweight @momma2boys @utteruttercock @sherlux @calaisreno @tinycozycorner @sherlockedcarmilla @chriscalledmesweetie @jawnn-watson @dinner--starving @kbandherponchoboys @cheekbones-and-coat-collars @7-percent @discordantwords @simplyclockwork @vogelia @mousedetective @heyblinken

[spring-heeledjack]

Butler's New Pronouns

heeeey besties this is woefully short

        Butler tapped his foot rhythmically as he cleaned his Sig Sauer for the eighth time. His face was blank as he contemplated, falling deeper into his own thoughts.

        Or was he even a 'he'?

        Juliet had told them all recently that she preferred to go by she/her and he/him. Holly then said that she felt the same, and that Foaly used he/they. Artemis added that he used he/it as well. It took a couple minutes of explaining to Butler what all that meant, but he understood. He had been to pride parades. Hell, he'd dressed in drag before. He'd just never considered that perhaps he himself might not be cis. After actually thinking about it, he grew more and more fond of the idea.

        But which ones to use? How did he know which ones were the 'right' ones? And what if he ended up not liking it and having to say 'nevermind' to everyone he had told?

        There was a knock on his bedroom door. He recognized the pattern as Juliet's.

        "Come in." He called. Juliet stepped in.

        "You alright, Dom?" She asked, shutting the door behind him. "You've been in here for, like, an hour."

        Butler shook his head. "I'm fine, Juliet. Just thinking."

        He sat down next to him on the bed. "...does it have something to do with the pronouns thing?"

        After a moment of consideration, Butler decided not to lie to his baby sister. "Yeah..." Juliet gave him a solemn look, and he waved his hands. "No, no, not like that! I'm happy for you, sis! I just... how did you find out?"

        "I dunno, I just felt like 'she' didn't really capture all of me, y'know?" He said. "I talked with Sam about it and she said to try out new pronouns."

        Butler hummed, taking in the information. He didn't speak for a while, turning different pronouns around in his head. Juliet watched him, lost in her own thoughts.

        "...you wanna try out different pronouns?" She asked after a while. Butler flushed red. "I-I'm just not sure which ones I like. What if I choose ones that don't feel right?" He asked. Juliet smiled, patting his shoulder. "Don't worry," she said. "If you don't like 'em you can just tell everyone the right ones to use when it comes up."

        "But that's feels... embarrassing. Or it feels like it would be." Butler argued. "I don't want to just say 'nevermind' after telling everyone what I prefer."

        Juliet hummed. "Maybe you could start out by going by she/he/they? That way you can go by all three and narrow it down to the ones you like. That's what Foaly and Mulch did." He said.

        "Mulch?" Butler asked. Juliet nodded. "Yeah, Mulch decided that it goes by all pronouns, but he doesn't really care."

        Eventually, Butler nodded. "I think I'd like that, to go by all three for a while." He said. Juliet grinned, draping and arm over his shoulder and giving him a tight, one-armed hug. "That's the spirit, big guy!"

        They both stood, Butler pocketing his Sig Sauer that he hadn't stopped cleaning. "So, you still wanna be referred to as a man?" Juliet asked as they started down the hallway. Butler nodded. "I like being a man for now, though I'm open to other identities."

        For the next couple weeks, everyone exercised the new pronouns Butler had chosen.

        In a business meeting, Artemis introduced his bodyguard to the other attendees, warning any assassins in disguise that might've been in the room. "My bodyguard here, Butler, has a multitude of ways to disarm and detain any of you if you attempt an attack on me. She is willing to use lethal force if necessary." He said.

        One of the businessmen in the room mouthed, 'she?' to the man next to him. Artemis, a skilled lip-reader, narrowed its eyes at the man. "Excuse me, Mr. Bachmann," It said loudly, drawing attention to the Swiss man. "Is there a problem?"

        Mr. Bachmann blushed as all heads turned towards him. He shook his head with a quiet, "No, Dr. Fowl. Please, continue."

        Subtly, Buter smiled.

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

Forbidden 3

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’re Tony’s sister and you just so happen to be very attracted to the one man that gets on your brother’s nerves, Steve Rogers. Unknowingly to you, the older man also has his eyes on you despite your circumstances.

Warnings: Gun violence, mentions of blood

REPOST because Tumblr has been acting up!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

MASTERLIST

———

"Guys Y/N's still here" rolling your eyes you took a swig of your beer as the team grumbled

"Great another week of you being bitchy, just what we needed" Tony chucked a peanut in your direction and you couldn't help but laugh at their behaviour

"Oh come on, I told y'all that I didn't need to have sex, I was just having a bad day" unbuckling the straps of your nude heels you kicked them off, stretching your legs out on Thor's lap

"More like a bad week if you ask me" Steve piped up eyes flicking down to Thor's lap ever so often

"You're one to talk old man"

"Yeah Steve when was the last time you got any? My body still hurts from training a couple days ago, you didn't hold back man" Sam plopped down on the sofa next to the blonde man who downed the remaining of his drink

"You guys back off alright, I'm pretty sure Capsicle here has had his fair share of romance"

"Tony I don't think a kiss from 1945 is considered a fair share of romance" the group bursted out laughing at the man's depressing love life

"You guys are ruthless" giggling you crossed your legs and Thor placed his hand on your knee as if this was a common thing between you two

Thor started telling stories about life on Asgard and how many times Loki had tried to kill him. During this particular story you felt a heated gaze focused on you from across the room. Looking up you and Steve locked eyes, you noticed the fire hidden behind his eyes as the God of Thunder continued to rub his hand on your legs

Is he jealous? He can't be right?

There is no way that Steve could have the same feelings towards you

"Y/N why don't you be the one to show Rogers a good time?" Clint joked and Tony smaked him upside the head

"I would rather gouge my eyes out before I ever let that happen"

"Why though, I mean look at him" you don't know if it was the alcohol talking but you sure as hell couldn't back out of the conversation now as the room fell silent, all eyes on you and Tony

"Y/N the man is ancient"

"Your point?" flabbergasted Tony stared at you, completely lost for words while Steve held his hand over his lips to disguise his smile

Natasha smirked at you, ready to say something when gunshots rang out, glass shattering around you from the stray bullets. Thor immediately shifted you both off the couch and onto the floor, shielding your body with his as your attackers continued to fire their weapons

Reaching below the coffee table you grabbed the loaded gun that you always kept there in case something like this were to ever happen. The bullets stopped as heavily armed men invaded the room through the broken windows

Thor summoned his hammer as you and Natasha started firing at the men. Steve engaged in hand to hand combat, easily disarming his target before knocking them out. In the corner of your eyes you briefly noticed the familiar metal frisbee a few feet away from you

"Cover me!"

You moved as fast as you could towards the corridor, trying your best to stay low. You grabbed onto the cold metal and called out to Steve as you lauched the shield in his direction, he ducked as it knocked out the man

More gunshots rang out, this time they came from behind you, you quickly dived behind the bar taking cover. The gun cocked and you took the chance and popped up, firing your weapon. He fell to the ground as another shot went off, hitting you in your side

Groaning you stood your ground and shot him point blank before sliding down to the floor, pressing firmly onto your wound. Every fibre of your being burned from the excrusiating pain

Bruce came to your aid, trying his best not to turn into Hulk. He replaced your hands with his as he applied firm pressure to stop you from bleeding out on the floor

The fighting came to an end as Steve knocked the last guy unconcious

"Guys Y/N's been hit"

"I'm fine" brushed Bruce's hand away, hauling yourself up to your feet, you barely made two steps when your legs gave out beneath you, Steve catching you before you could hit the deck

He gently picked you up in his arms as Banner rushed you to the infirmary to get the bullet out and patch you up

Not even five minutes later you were laying on the bed while Banner started locating the bullet that's still inside of you, the rest of the team sat around in the room still trying to wrap their heads around what took place

Steve stood next to you the entire time, his hand brushing against yours debating if he should hold onto yours while Bruce was stitching you up. You subtly slipped your hands into his and he half heartedly smiled down at you

"Okay, you'll survive just try not to pop any stiches during the next three weeks and you'll be alright" Bruce finished applying the patch over your stitches and you moved to sit up but Steve shot you a stern look, silently telling you to not do that

"What the hell was that?" Natasha asked, picking fragments of glass from the soles of her feet. Your brother furrowed his brows, the wheels in his brain working over time, reaching into his pocket he pulled out his phone

"You guys aren't going to believe this"

Tony flipped his phone showing us the video message he received from the douchebag you guys had captured on your last mission

"My friends, I hope you all hadn't thought that you all had seen the last of me. My apologise for the mess, I had to make sure you all were going to give me your undivided attention"

Going against Steve's demands you sat up as the video played out

"You all took something that belongs to me and I want it back or else the Avengers would be a thing of the past" the video ended and we all shared the same look of confusion

“What the hell is he talking about?” Rhodey broke the deafening silence, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, deep in thought

Kage was known for selling high teach weapons on the black market off the coast of Africa. He had been on our radar since we were on the hunt for Ulysses Klaue when Ultron was a threat. The first time we crossed paths with him he managed to escape while we were being mind controlled by Wanda and since the we hadn't seen him until he finally slipped up a few weeks ago

"I remember going through his case files, nothing stood out from what we already knew"

"We missed something" groaning you swung your legs over the edge of the bed ready to get to work despite being slightly buzzed from all the alcohol

"We've got our work cut out for us, I suggest we start digging. Romanoff, Barton, go over the interview from his arrest see if he gave any clues. Stark and Banner, start looking at satillites, cameras anything that we could use to track his movements. The rest of us would be going over the files that we have on Kage" Steve assigned us our tasks and everyone dispersed leaving you and Steve behind

"Let’s get to work” standing up you were about to walk to the door when he held onto your wrist

“Not you” spinng around you collided into his firm chest and he steadied you, breath fanning against your face with each breath he took

"Cap I'm fine" looking up at him you shot him a small smile, placing your hand on his forearm giving it a reassuring squeeze, enjoying having Steve so close to you

You're eyes flickered between his eyes and lips, mind flooding with thoughts of kissing him. Steve did the same feeling himself start to lean in but he caught himself in time. Clearing his throat, he backed up putting distance between you both, snapping out of his trance

"Okay…but you should change into something more comfortable" your heart dropped as he straightened up, you tried not to show your disappointment as you headed out the door with him trailing behind

A smile played on your lips as you replayed that moment

Steve does have feelings for you

-----

Tag list:

@madisondelstan @thenumber1simp @mac99martin @n3ssm0nique @sltwins @artisancowbells

[damistrolls]

Always up to hear what you consider an interesting story, Yahiro.

"Then I'll talk about that time Magpie sent me to the hospital!"

"When he was really little, he still had some pretty violent tendencies. It wasn't really a behavior Fansia cared to curb, and I don't really blame her. He's a violet, after all, and according to her, he behaved when it mattered.

So this meant that, if you weren't Fansia, you were kinda always at risk of getting hurt around him. Even if you checked him over to make sure he didn't have anything sharp on him, he'd somehow end up finding one, and you'd have to wrestle it out of his hands, which believe me... was NOT an easy task. You'd think a kid would have less hand strength, but I guess that's that dense highblood muscle.

Anyways, sometimes, you could disarm him, sometimes you ended up getting a cut or stab, but it was usually never THAT bad. I mean, I can't say the same about the nannies that were never warned he'd do this, they had it pretty bad, but I was lucky enough to have been told to look out, so it never was an issue.

But one day, when I was relaxing on the couch, talking to Noboru, he actually manages to get me in a pretty soft area, here at my middle."

Yahiro gestures towards his stomach.

"And it hurt so much that I could have SWORN he punctured something. I was extremely lucky he had only gotten me with a butter knife, because the little snot was twisting it with this wild look in his eye, and Noboru had to pry him off of me. I still remember Noboru holding Magpie in his hands and shaking him, going 'what is WRONG with you?!', while the kid was giggling away.

It's extremely funny in retrospect, but in the moment, I was like, holy shit I'm gonna die because my friend's tiny little descendent twisted a knife into my guts.

Anyways, once Noboru was done being exasperated with Magpie, he drove me to the hospital, and we found out that it wasn't as bad as we thought. Missed anything important, but I DID have to get some stitches, and was told to take it easy for a while.

When I was recovered enough to see Magpie again, I visited the Izuumi estate. The kid was thrilled to see me, and he nearly knocked me over in his attempt to hug me. Apparently, he missed me a lot while I was recovering. He thought I'd be mad at him, and never want to see him again. I told him it wasn't that easy to drive me away, and he absolutely lit up. Such a cute kid.

I don't understand him. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me why he can drive weapons into people he actively likes and cares about, but... I know it's not entirely on purpose. He means well. Anyone who's spent a lot of time around him knows he's just a passionate, loving little guy.

... Still, I try not to spend an extended amount of time around him nowadays, because he could cut me up six ways to Sunday if I'm not careful. And if I do see him, I try to have Noboru or Fansia there. Noboru is still stronger than Magpie, he could pry him off if need be, and Fansia... well, she's probably stronger too, but her strength wouldn't be needed. Simply, Magpie wouldn't dare act out in front of her."

[biggest-stupidhead]

Hiyaa, I'm so sorry for bothering you!! I really like your blog and what you write, read your works several times lol. One that I found really cute was the cadet reader one where she punches Levi and breaks his nose (poor bebe), so I was wondering if we could get like a second part to that with them doing all the paperwork and stuff and how things go down from there.

If you don't want to or don't take requests atm it's no biggie

Have a nice day and take care!!

Aw omg hiiii you’re not bothering me at all! Thank you sm for the support! I can definitely do a second part :)

Summary: Levi and you do paperwork in his office

Word Count: 1.6K

__

You leaned heavily on the counter over the kitchen sink, your hair falling loose from your pony tail as you looked down the drain. The rest of your squad was out in the dining hall eating dinner, meanwhile you were going to be stuck with your cranky captain, who almost certainly had a death wish for you now. You swallowed thickly, eyeing the cook who was still dishing out dinner, you considered grabbing a plate. But any hunger you had felt earlier in the afternoon had dissipated since your incident. You knew that you should probably eat a little something, since the last time you had eaten was lunch, which was well over five hours ago. You huffed in frustration as you pushed off the sink and continued preparing the tea. You had only ever prepared the captain’s tea three times. Once when Moblit was too busy helping Hange, and the other two on the captain’s orders. The first time he had told you it was shitty and “too sweet” so the next two times you forewent the honey and just gave it to him black. He seemed more pleased with this than the last time, and even requested that you bring him another tray that next evening. You’d felt both honored and annoyed, having lost a significant chunk of your rare personal time.

But now you just felt plain nervous. You hadn’t ever injured anyone this badly during training before. Hurting your fellow human beings was not high on your list of priorities, aka the main reason why you chose to join the scouting regiment over the other two divisions of the military. You shot one last glance through the window into the dining hall, where other soldiers were all chowing down, meanwhile the sound of the tea kettle whistling caught your attention. You turned and brought the kettle off the heat and  placed the tea leaves into the cups. Once the water had cooled off a bit you poured it into the cups that only Levi was allowed to use, and watched the leaves swirl in the hot water. 

As you waited for the tea to steep, you turned and began to search for a tray to carry it on. By the time you found one, the tea was steeped perfectly, so you wasted no time loading it up and walking briskly up the stairs towards Levi’s office. 

__

Levi sat on the counter of his bathroom, which was connected to his office and private quarters, inspecting his nose. The cut on the bridge of his nose had already begun to scab over, and his nose had stopped bleeding all together. He’d broken his nose more times than he would’ve liked, thanks to his upbringing. He slid off of the counter and stalked back into his office, the usual stack of paperwork still piled high. Erwin had been pestering him to find a cadet to help with the work, much like Hange had done so many years ago with Moblit. Other squad leaders also recruited the help of their cadets but Levi would rather not spend his “free time” with the brats, much like he knew that most of them wouldn’t want to spend their free time with him. He wasn’t sure what had come over him when he had asked you to join him for the evening, almost instantly regretting the order. But the way that you didn’t seem to deflate at the order, and even going above his expectations with offering to make tea, made the evening seem a bit more enticing. 

He slipped his jacket off and hung it neatly over the back of his chair before sinking down into the uncomfortable wooden seat. He sighed and began to sift through the papers, organizing them into piles, one pile for you to work on, since his signature was the last step to completion. Another pile that was for himself, this one containing more serious documents. A small knock on his door made him glance up from his work. 

“Name and business.” He said, although he was certain it was you, due to it being right around dinnertime. 

“(Y/n), here with your tea and to do paperwork sir!” You’re voice was muffled by the door, Levi knew that is was locked, so he had to get up and open the door for you. He pulled the door open and stepped back, silently inviting you in. You nodded in thanks, eyes lingering on his nose. Levi watched you closely as you placed the tray onto his desk, careful of the documents, which he was grateful for. He rounded his desk and dropped into his chair once more, as you handed him his tea, he took the cup from you in that peculiar way of his and inhaled the aroma. After a tense beat, he took a sip and gave you a curt nod. You felt your shoulders sag in relief and  you sank down into one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk. Levi took one last sip of his tea before placing it off to the side, he pushed a stack of papers towards you wordlessly and then produced a pen from one of the drawers in his desk. You began to flip through the papers, deciding that it was best to stay quiet and let Levi make the first attempts at conversation, seeing as you had broken his nose after all. 

Levi watched as you took the work in stride, skimming through papers, scratching down words when needed. You were working efficiently and he couldn’t have asked for more. But why was the silence that he’d been craving all day so very....annoying? He risked glancing up at you, face devoid of any particular emotion as you looked down at your work. Your hair was falling loose from it’s ponytail, causing some rouge pieces to obscure your vision. You let out a heavy sigh, causing your hair to flutter off your cheek briefly before falling back into your line of sight. Levi frowned, normally you were one of the more lively cadets under his command. Alongside Jean, Connie, and Sasha that is. It was concerning, seeing you so quiet and absorbed in the work, when he knew that it was nearly impossible to capture your focus for more than twenty minutes at a time. He hadn’t realized how long he had been staring until you looked up at him, eyes a bit wide and questioning as you met his steady gaze. He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly and looked back down at his papers, embarrassed at being caught. 

“Something wrong captain?” Your voice was smooth as honey and unwavering, something Levi found a bit disarming, given how jumpy and antsy you could be. 

“As you were.” Was all he said, with a flick of his wrist as he tried to play off his staring. 

“Hm okay then” you mumbled before returning to the paperwork at hand. A few more minutes of silence ensued before you placed your pen down and leaned back into the chair and stretched your arms above your head. A loud pop came from somewhere in your body and you sighed with relief. 

“That’s terrible for your joints.” Levi scolded as you twisted to grab the back of the chair and further pop your back. 

“How could something feel so good and be bad for you?” You countered as you twisted to crack the other side of your back, a wry grin on your face. Levi scoffed in slight dissatisfaction before attempting to refocus. 

“I’m almost done with my pile, do you need anything else from me while I’m here?” You asked as you placed another finished document onto the stack that was quickly rising in altitude. 

“Hm, no not tonight.” Levi said, his eyes still trained on his paper as he skimmed through it. Your brows raised at his words, implying that you would be coming back another night. 

“Not tonight?” You asked after beat. He hummed in agreement and added the page to his own finished pile of documents. 

“As in we will be doing more of this?” You asked, not ready to drop the topic just yet. 

“That is what I implied was it not cadet?” Levi asked with an exhausted sigh. You cocked your head to the side as you watched him work. 

“So...you need me again tomorrow night?” You mumbled, not sure how you felt about all of this. Of course you had offered to do him favors, you’d broken his nose, but getting stuck with him for the rest of god knows how long was a bit daunting. 

“Yes, and the night after that.” Levi said dully as his pen scratched against the paper. 

“Why so often? There isn’t nearly that much paperwork.” You pressed, leaning onto the desk in an attempt to get his full attention. 

“Hm no there isn’t but Erwin’s been pestering me about taking on a personal assistant.” His insinuation made you both fear the future and excited for it. Being Levi’s personal assistant could boost your reputation, but at what cost? You inhaled sharply, determination flowing through you to be a better assistant than Moblit, who was practically a pro at this point. 

“I’ll be your personal assistant captain.” you said eagerly, he looked up slowly, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. 

The sight of you sitting before him with a bright smile calmed him some, he had been worried that you wouldn’t have been ready for the task. He knew that at times he could be...difficult. So seeing you ready to tackle the challenge was reassuring, he nodded stiffly before looking back down at his work, hoping that the relief wasn’t as easy to spot on his face as it felt. 

“Very well then, I expect you here every evening ready for paperwork.” He tried to sound callous but it came out rather soft. 

“Of course sir.” you hummed as you also returned back to your work. 

__

I’m not sure if I want this to be a romantic type of thing or more of a soft platonic relationship lol. If you guys want more of this specify the relationship and I will gladly continue this :)