#time to debrief the squad on what the fuck is up

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡The Morning After｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Ghost was a big man, he loomed over everyone in the squad but you never dared to imagine how big he was everywhere until you accidentally walk in on him in the shower

Warnings: nudity, Ghost is fucking massive, horny thoughts, reader’s callsign is Pyro, implied smut, size difference WC: 1.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You couldn’t look your LT in the eye, not that you could before but now it was even worse. You knew that he knew something was wrong but you were too damn stubborn and too damn embarrassed to clear it up. You could feel those striking brown eyes staring at the back of your head as you poured yourself a coffee from the ancient coffee machine. His gaze followed you as you bypassed your usual seat next to him and instead sat beside Soap, expertly positioning your body beside the Scott as to not see your superior.

“You’re next to me today then lass?” Soap threw an arm over your shoulders, shaking you with his excitement. 

“Regrettably, yes.” You snapped back, your exhausted state only adding to the annoyance you felt around the man you called your friend. He smirked, dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What’s up yer ass today?” He asked right as you took a sip of the shitty coffee causing you to choke on the dark liquid, drawing the attention of the whole table to you. Soap beamed as you coughed and for a brief moment, your focus was not on the piercing gaze of Ghost.

“Nothing! Nothing, just didn’t sleep well.” You forced your attention to the front of the room where Captain Price was beginning his morning debrief.

Getting lost in the monotonous tones of the Brit, your mind began to wander to the events of last night.

Your entire body was covered in a layer of grime and sweat, a consequence of having to test out the new training course for the recruits coming in next week. You had been chosen ‘at random’ but knew that it was because you were the youngest of the 141 and thus at the bottom of the pecking order.

All you could think about after being in the cold mud and rain for a solid three hours (you had to run through it multiple times of course to make sure it was sound) was a steaming hot shower and maybe a quick version of your skin care routine. 

Your feet dragged as you made your way to the showers, confident that you would be able to enjoy the room to yourself considering that it was nearing 1 in the morning, not hearing the gentle cascade of water already running over the sound of your own self-pity.

You beelined for your favourite stall but froze when you finally noticed the man standing under the steam. There was no question of who stood before you, the sheer size of him pointed to only one person on your squad.

Water rolled down his broad back like a river, snaking its way over scar tissue and muscle, reddening his skin with its heat. His shoulders rolled as his hands worked through his short dirty blonde hair, washing away the standard issues shampoo that clung to his locks.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes drift lower, settling on the pert cheeks of his ass and his strong, thick legs. Heat crawled up your neck and it was only partially because of the warm temperature of the shower. You held your breath as he turned to reach for the bar of soap sitting on the shelf beside him, exposing his profile to you.

Your eyes went wide and wetness pooled between your plump thighs. Good lord he was so-

“Pyro, we need you to run through the training course again. Ghost will help you out.” You were physically shaken from your daydream by your captain’s voice with the accompanying laugh from the man next to you. Your eyes flicked back up to your commanding officer.

“I must’ve run that thing 50 times sir. It works fine!” The older man raised an eyebrow at you before crossing his arms over his chest and levelling a disappointed look your way.

“Fine is not good enough. You’ll run it until Ghost thinks it’s enough.”

Soap, obviously finding amusement in your torment, said. “You’ll be runnin that course blindfolded if Riley has anything to do with it.” You groaned in annoyance and let your head fall to the table with a thud, ignoring the jeers of your teammates. 

The rest of the day’s tasks were dolled out and the team was quickly dismissed, leaving only you and Simon in the room. He cleared his throat but before he could speak, you shot up. “I’ll meet you down there, I gotta hit the head.”

You scrambled from the room, leaving the giant alone smirking under his balaclava. 

——————

“Faster!” Ghost barked, his voice booming between the obstacles. You growled in frustration, redoubling your efforts as you scaled the 12 ft wall in the centre of the course. You had already beaten your record three times over, yet this seemed to not be enough for your LT.

You reached for the rope at the top, your fingertips just grazing the braided fibres but right as you were about to grab for it, your other arm finally gave out after hours of work and you began to fall backwards. 

Before the scream could escape your lips, your body was cradled in something warm and comfortable. When you were sure that you hadn’t just slammed into the ground, you opened one of your eyes and came face-to-mask with Ghost.

You could tell he was smiling behind that caricature of a skull by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. You huffed and attempted to wriggle out of his arms, desperately forcing yourself not to think about how warm and fucking massive they were. “Now where ya goin there Pyro. That was a big fall, I’d hate to see ya hurt.” His voice was even deeper than normal, husky and raw. It made your cunt clench around nothing.

“I um-“ You started to say but you were quickly cut off by a tut from your superior officer.

“I think we’re done for the day Sergeant, you’ve obviously proved your… endurance.” He said the last word like it was dirty, his brown eyes growing even darker as his biceps flexed, keeping you pinned to his chest. Something in your stomach fluttered. Even holding you up to him, Ghost was still looming over you, the shadow of his bulk blocking out the sunlight that licked at his broad shoulders.

Your gaze flicked to where the black of his mask clung to his lips before you caught yourself and forced your eyes elsewhere. “Yes lieutenant.” Simon chuckled and lowered you, more gently than you would’ve thought him capable, to the dusty ground of the training area. 

“Good girl.” He purred and for a second, you thought that maybe you had actually bashed your head and now you were hallucinating. Ghost kept a paw-like hand wrapped around your elbow, preventing you from sprinting off.

“S-sir?” 

“Ya know ye aren’t as sneaky as ya think ya are Pyro. If ya wanted ta join me for a shower, ya coulda. Don’t cha deny it, could feel those pretty eyes of yours searing inta me from 50 paces.” Your heart dropped.

“Oh god sir, ‘m so sorry, it was a total accident. It’ll never happen again.” His grip tightened, making your mouth snap shut with an audible click.

“Now when did I say tha I didn’t want tha?” His head tilted, the deep brown of his eyes glinting mischievously as he lowered himself closer to your face. “How ‘bout I show ya what ya missed out on a give ya a proper reward for bein such a good little girl?” 

It was all you could do to nod your head and not collapse to the ground with a pathetic whimper. The edge of his mask shifted as he smirked down at you. 

——————

“Sorry I’m late Captain, won’t happen again.” You limped into the briefing room, dark bags marring your cheeks. Price nodded at you and continued his debrief for the day. You winced as you plopped down in the only open seat, ending up right next to Soap for the second day in a row.

“Ye look li shite.” He leaned over to you. You jabbed your index and middle fingers into his ribs, making Johnny jump slightly and earning him a glare from Price. “Jausus, Ghost musta really battered ya ta make ya so bitchy today.” 

You smirked and caught said lieutenant’s eye. “He really fucking did.” 

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Modern Warfare

@joyfulfxckery

Simon Riley

@mandythemint @babygirl-riley

[vampsquerade]

Hi

I was wondering if I could leave a request with you.

Could I please request a platonic Simon ghost Riley x male reader where reader joins the 141 for the very first time and ghost being ghost is very skeptical and I trust worthy of him. But over time during a duo mission they become the bestest friends possible like an inseparable duo.

Please and thank you

yes of course! thank you so much for the request and sorry if it’s a bit weird, it’s been a bit since i’ve written a platonic relationship for a character with a personality like ghost’s…but i hope you like it either way c: hope you’ve been well 💕

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ghost x Male!Reader: The FNG’s Impression

Trigger Warnings: untrusting feelings, is mostly a normal fic

Being the FNG to a new task force was typically always seen as a bad thing. The decisions made on the first mission is the one that makes that lasting impression on the entirety of the squad, so it usually makes them nervous and less rational. But not you. You have always made it out to prove your worth that you’re able to contribute and follow orders as they’re given. You proved several times that you weren’t some rookie who didn’t know jackshit with each new squad you worked with as you moved up in your ranks. So once you were assigned to Task Force 141 after Captain Price decided after the Hassan situation and betrayal of the former General, Shepherd, that it was time to beef up the squad a bit more.

Upon arrival at their current location, you made a quick effort to greet everyone before the debriefing. “Fuckin’ hell…so this is the guy I’m supposed to be on a duo mission with?” Simon mutters to Kyle as he stares at you. “Easy now, I’m sure he’ll be a good addition to the team.” Kyle says, uncrossing his arms to wave at you as you walk into the tent with Captain Price and Farah. “He doesn't seem trustworthy, something feels off about him.” Simon says, walking towards the barracks. “You’re being too judgemental mate! I know when we were working with Graves that suspicion wasn’t really there because he was Shepherd’s recommendation, but that’s all over now.” Kyle says, following behind him.

“Doesn’t matter. Someone with an extensive file like his being that chipper ain’t exactly a good thing.” Simon says. “The two of you taking the piss outta the new guy or something?” Johnny asks, sitting up once Simon flicked the lights of the barracks on. “Simon’s just being an old man and complaining about how the new guy doesn’t seem trustworthy.” Kyle says, shaking his head. “Aye, you think so? I kinda had the same feeling.” Johnny says, scratching his chin. “Really? Surprising—considering that’s how you were when you joined the team.” Kyle says, causing Johnny to scowl at him. “Away ‘n bile yer heid.” he says curtly. “What?” Kyle asks. “He said ‘Go fuck yourself,’ Kyle.” Simon says, a soft scoff escaping his lips.

Knowing full well it was a laugh, Johnny just grinned at him. “Oh shove it up yours MacTavish. You two are being a little harsh to him and all he said to you was ‘Hello, I can’t wait to work with you guys. Let’s be sure to do our best.’ Don’t you think we should, oh I don’t know, not be suspicious?” Kyle says. As he finishes saying that, they all immediately turn and look at the door as it opens and reveals you standing there. “Oh! You guys were probably talking about something private, I’ll head out and let you guys keep talking.” you say, freezing up. “No, no, it’s fine. We had just finished talking. Y/N, right? Nice to finally meet you.” Kyle says.

He walks over to you, that same friendly smile from earlier on his face as his hand extends towards you. “Nice to meet you too, Kyle. Hope to do my absolute best on this mission with Simon here.” you say, giving Simon a smile as you shake Kyle’s hand. “Call me Lieutenant. You and I aren’t on a first name basis.” Simon says coldly, his eyes narrowed as he glared daggers into you. “Alright Lieutenant. So, uh, is it okay if I can go to sleep here?” you ask. “Of course you can, you don’t have to ask us to go to sleep. What time are you two being dropped off?” Kyle asks. “We’re being dropped at 0600 sharp so I’m gonna get some rest before 0500 to be ready by then.” you say.

“You’re a meticulous one, aren’t you?” Johnny asks, causing you to look at him. “Well yeah I mean…it kinda comes with the field doesn’t it? No room for error.” you say. “And that’s what got you to provide good overwatch as a sniper?” Johnny asks again. “Oh yeah. Hopefully I’ll be able to be as good as the Lieutenant here. I really can’t wait for these next few months working with you all.” you say excitedly. “Don’t get too excited. We aren’t exactly sure what the two of us are getting into. Can you keep yourself level headed?” Simon asks. “I have a pretty good record for a reason, Lieutenant—my head’s as level as it’s gonna be.” you say. “Alright, I think I’m starting to like the new guy now. Welcome to the 141, Y/N.” Johnny says.

Soon enough after a bit more banter, all of you find yourselves getting to bed. Obviously still uneasy, Simon finds himself staying awake just a bit longer to make sure you don’t try and do anything whilst the others sleep. Once he sees you’re not thinking of trying anything, he eventually lets himself drift off to sleep until it was time to get up and head out for the mission in the morning. You’re obviously the first one to get up and ready, so when Simon feels you gently shaking him awake, it causes him to open his eyes out of a slight panic and tightly grip your wrist. “H-Hey! Easy now Lieutenant, you’re gonna break the hand I need!” you whisper yell. Simon then scowls at you through the darkness, letting go of your wrist.

You rub at it to relieve some of the remaining pain and pressure, walking out to the weapons wall to get your assigned sniper rifle and pistol, both of which are already equipped with suppressors. Simon eventually joins you, grabbing a suppressed pistol and automatic rifle. “Let’s do some good work out there, Lieutenant.” you say, giving him a friendly bump on the shoulder before you walk towards the hangar. Simon just groans and follows after you begrudgingly. He was most certainly not looking forward to these next few months with you, especially not the first day of your mission. He felt like you were an annoyance by how friendly you were making yourself out to be and he honestly just wasn’t having it.

You didn’t talk to him the entire time you waited to be dropped off by Nikolai, wanting to keep yourself calm and collected. Once you were dropped off, Nikolai bid the both of you farewell and wished you luck. “Bravo 0-7 and 3-6 this is Watcher-1. How copy?” a woman’s voice, one of which you recognized as C.I.A agent Kate Laswell, asks through the comms. “This is Bravo 0-7. We’ve landed in the DZ and are ready for infil.” Simon says, making you excited and ramped up for this first mission. “On your TacMap are all six buildings you’ll need to infiltrate to find any and all information that’ll help us get our leads on Makarov. Luckily for you, there aren’t many guards patrolling the compound—make your way in and use what little darkness you have left to ensure your safety. If you’re compromised you’ll need to make your way to the EZ where Nikolai will come and get you.” Laswell says. “Understood.” Simon acknowledges.

You make your way to your designated slope that provides overwatch for a good 85% of the area, hunkering down and hoping your ghillie suit ensures you’re well camouflaged. “Alright, C/S. I don’t reckon you’ll make a good impression on Price and Laswell if you so let me get a scratch by not doing your job. On my signal, you’ll take out any and all guards that are surrounding me, got it?” Simon says into the comms. “Yes, Lieutenant Ghost. I won’t let a single one come near you—I’ll alert you if I see any you can’t and take them out before they get to you.” you reassure. “Take out the guards in the North and South outposts. Know how many notches that’ll be?” Simon asks, questioning your ability and knowledge. “Three and a half notches for both. I’m taking the shots now.” you say. Holding your breath to keep your aim steady, you first take your shot at the guard stationed south before taking out the one up north.

Mildly impressed by this, Simon takes note of your clear ability to follow orders and prove your intelligence. “I’m moving to building Alpha. Do you see any guards I should be aware of?” he asks. “Negative, you’re clear to move in.” you say. You keep your eye on Simon, watching him scale the building through the windows. “See anything in there Lieutenant?” you ask softly. “Negative. Is there anyone coming near Alpha, Sergeant?” Simon asks. “Not a thing, you’re clear to move out now.” you reassure. This then goes on for the rest of the morning, with you both having to take extra precautions now that the sun has come up.

At this point, Simon’s become impressed by you, but now he thinks you’re being a bit of a kiss-ass. “Is this really how you act all the time?” he asks rudely as you wait at the EZ for Nikolai to arrive. “It’s how I am with people I haven’t worked or met with yet—like you guys. Once I’m closer to people is when I start to kind of act like a dick.” you say. “That right?” Simon asks, shaking his head. “What, don’t believe me?” you ask, crossing your arms as you sling your sniper on your shoulder. “Not at all. I better see that exact behavior then the further along you and I keep going on these missions.” Simon says. You grin at him, crossing your arms against your chest. “I think you’re warming up to me, Lieutenant Ghost.” you say cheekily. “And I think I should kick you in the ass so hard you feel my boot in your throat.” Simon says just as cheekily through his normally gruff voice.

After this, the months would come to pass more and more as you got closer to getting a proper lead on Makarov. The both of you were forced to go radio silent together, as there was a risk that the whole operation would be compromised. This left you less monitored during subsequent missions and you’d come to prove that you were more than capable of saving Simon’s ass because that’s all you did. Sure, he’s saved yours a couple of times, however it was mostly you making sure he didn’t so much as get a single scratch on him. You’d also, in turn, begun to treat him like you said you would; a complete dick. Simon liked that, as he figured that it suited you a lot more than trying to be some kiss-ass.

“Ghost, C/S, good to see you lads again.” Price says as the two of you finally walk onto the base of operations they were using. “Good to see you too, Captain. We got a proper lead on Makarov now,” you say as you hand over a manila folder containing all the information regarding the information you and Simon spent months getting. “So, how was he?” Price asks, looking at Simon after scanning the contents of the folder for a bit. “I’d say he’s a right good fellow. Perfect fit for the 141.” Simon says, making you content. “And how was it with Simon?” Price asks you this time. “All I can say is that the old dog’s got some soft spots in him. Couple blind spots too, think he needs to get his eyes checked.” you joke, making Simon elbow you in the ribs. “Easy now, pup, I reckon I can still kick your ass.” he says.

“Simon! Y/N! How the hell did you guys find where we were? The two of you went radio silent on us.” Kyle says, going and shaking your hand. “Ah, we just followed the North Star and managed to find you guys.” you say sarcastically. “Haha, very funny Y/N,” Kyle says, rolling his eyes as a smile crosses his face. “Has he taken a liking to you yet? It took him a bit to take a liking to Johnny and I.” he asks. “Oh yeah. Surely enough I’ll get him to be completely smitten.” you say, playfully nudging at Simon. “You’re not my type.” he says, crossing his arms. You could tell he’s smiling a little behind his balaclava, and it makes you glad to have gained his trust. “Well then, mI’ll be putting the two of you on more missions together.” Price says, nodding at you both before walking away.

Kyle follows after him, leaving you and Simon alone. “Honestly I can’t fathom the thought of you taking a liking to me. I’m pretty sure you don’t even have a heart.” you say, starting to walk away from Simon. “Oh I have a heart all right, I just keep it frozen and locked in a box.” Simon says as he follows after you. “Sounds like something out of those freak shows they show on tv.” you say, laughing a bit. “Careful, that might just be you someday.” Simon jokes. “What’s that supposed to mean, Lt.?” you ask, no longer walking. Simon simply goes quiet and keeps walking once you stop walking. “Hey! What the hell’s that supposed to mean?!” you exclaim.

[ghostlychief]

Hiii!! Just before I request- your Ghost fics are all so damn great :'))) youre suuuper good at writing!!

Could I please get a fem! Reader who isnt part of 141, but another taskforce, and happens to spot Ghost getting shot by a bullet from afar, so she decides to save the him by killing all the enemies (with gun, knife or martial arts, whatevs ya want, maybe all) and taking Ghost to her home and treats his wounds cause she is also a medic and Ghost just quietly falls in love with a stranger who just saved him?

Sorry if its not understandable, english isnt my first language :(

You can ignore it but have a good day ^^

omg thank you sm for reading my other ghost fics!!! <3333 first of all, your english is GREAT. there is no need to apologize sweetie. i threw together this fic for you, hope you enjoy <3

--

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k+

warnings: none, just mentions of bullet injuries, but nothing graphic; fluff

--

You’ve only met the guy once, and yet, you’re standing over him while he lays shirtless on your couch.

Of course, you weren’t planning on having anyone over tonight, no. You thought you would get home from your mission, albeit a bit bruised and sore. You were going to take a nice hot bath and let the steam melt away your worries. You had your self-care night all planned out. That was, until this morning when your team aka Task Force Cobra, got informed that you were paired up with Task force 141. It was to be a matrix job, something you weren’t overly used to.

Nonetheless, each group gathered in the conference room to debrief. This was your first time meeting the aforementioned 141 squad. They weren’t as intimidating as you thought, although maybe it was because you were also a skilled marksman. Nevertheless, you introduced yourselves and got the formalities out of the way before you got into the nitty gritty of today’s mission.

However, one of the 141 members caught your eye. Goes by the name Ghost. He was one of the taller ones, and you could only see his eyes. Everything else was left to the imagination.  

You quickly rid your thoughts of the man, needing to focus on what you were assigned to do. You drew your attention back to Price and Diablo, who was your supervisor for Cobra.

“Cobra’s task is to run recon. We’ll go in first unsuspected and gather as much intel as needed. Then, 141 will come in.”

You mentally groan. You personally didn’t like recon because it usually didn’t result in a lot of action, and action is what you were trained for. You had a black belt in martial arts after all, and you were pretty adept with a knife.

Though, you kept your dissatisfaction to yourself and listened to the rest of the briefing.

--

Nothing exciting happened during recon. In order to gather intel, Cobra tried to look like normal civilians in the market area; all your weapons were concealed. You spotted a few of the hitmen you were after, and radioed 141. The hitmen you were after are part of a drug trafficking group called the Ludin cartel. You really were after the king pins, but you had to start somewhere.

Once you sent the signal, 141 started infiltrating the area and the civilians quickly scattered when they saw men with heavy weaponry storming through the market.

By now, you were in the outskirts of the market, but you could still see the commotion happening within. You may have just seen Ghost get shot. Wait what?

You did a double take and sure enough, Ghost has a red stain on his pant leg. Fuck.

You know you need to get to him as soon as he can so he won’t bleed out, but there’s still Ludin men surrounding him.

Well, fuck me.

You took a breath then started to make your way over to Ghost. Your movements were swift and sharp as you cut through Ludin’s men, every once in awhile your knife made contact with someone’s skin, leaving a big gash wherever the blade reached.  

Once the hitmen were taken care of, you were left with the sight of Ghost passed out on the ground. You radioed Cobra and 141, “Ghost’s down. I repeat, Ghost’s down.”

You heard a chopper in the distance.

--

The last thing Ghost remembers is faintly seeing someone take down nearly every Ludin man that was surrounding him; he doesn’t remember much after that. Now, he’s awake but his surrounding is unfamiliar to him.

He also feels a chill, and that’s when he looks down and notices his shirt is off, but there’s also a thick white bandage covering the loser half of his torso.

What the fuck happened?

“Oh good, you’re awake.” A sweet voice cuts through the air, and he looks up to find a woman standing over him. Your face is soft, your features show compassion, tenderness, and he doesn’t feel on guard like he usually does when he wakes up in an unfamiliar place.

Maybe it’s the daze of waking up with two bullet holes in your body, maybe it’s because of you. Whichever, he can’t find himself to tear his eyes away from your sweet face. It’s been so long that you even say, “Are you alright? Can you hear me okay?”

He mentally shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry. Just wasn’t sure where I was for a moment. You’re y/n right, from Cobra?”

You give him a slight nod with a smile that tugs at the corner of your lips. He finds himself looking there, at the plush color that coats them, but quickly averts his gaze so he doesn’t seem like a creep.

“Yeah, you got banged up pretty bad. Two bullets. One in your thigh, the other grazed your abdomen.”

Jesus.

“Why am I here in this house?” His tone is only curious, wondering why he isn’t in the med house back at base.

“This is one of my safe houses, and it just so happened to be the closest to the raid. Both teams agreed for me to take you back here. Along with being a skilled martial artist, I also happen to be a medic.”

Your sweet smile turns into a smirk while confidence coats your face, and Ghost finds this extremely attractive.

He once again can’t tear his eyes from you.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You keep staring.”

Fuck me.

He stutters out the first bit of his response, “I’m fine, sorry. Just have a headache, but also it doesn’t help that I’m laying here shirtless with a beautiful, yet terrifying martial artist turned medic.”

You let out a laugh that makes his heart glow. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I’ve literally only met this woman once.

“No worries, Lieutenant. Patients are usually a little discombobulated after being injured.”

You smile at him again, “This is a judgment free zone.”

Ghost nods, feeling a little bit better. A hint of smirk forms on his lips, “If this is a ‘judgement free zone’, would you mind if I ask you a question?”

You nod, willing him to proceed.

He’s taking a risk, he knows. But he has to ask. He’s already so enamored by you.

“Well, since you’ve been so kind as to take me to your home, and tend to my wounds, what do you say about me taking you out for a drink? As a thank you, of course.”

He watches as your face shifts from intrigue to understanding. Your sweet laughs permeates the air once again.

“I usually don’t accept offers like this, but for you I will.”

Ghost lets out a breathy laugh.

“Great, it’s a date then.”

--

hope you enjoyed!

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[whohasthecards]

Injured and Alone

Jake ejects on a mission for a different deployment and gets injured, and since he's on assignment and his emergency contact is his immediate CO, Mav/Dagger Squad doesnt find out and stuff, and so they lose contact with him for a couple weeks as he recovers and Mav starts to get worried but hangman comes back in contact when Mav said he would do something abt it and he scolds hangman a bit but lets it go and hangman feels smad because Mav or the daggers didn't notice he was gone, the daggers didnt notice he was gone, and they didnt really care and he still has injuries and eventually he still hangs out but with walls, but then Ice founds out in one of the mission reports and mentions it to Mav like how's Jake, is his injuries gone? And Mav is like stitches!????? And goes on to dad Jake.

The stuff I wrote below is like a word vomit mess, I kinda want to add more to it, but here is what I have for now.

---

Jake muttered a curse as he hid behind the trees. His comms were not working properly. He could barely hear anything, and he was pretty sure the enemy was able to get into the comms. 

He was stuck on enemy territory, he was grounded, no plane, lacking supplies, he had to get out. He had to march to the nearest base or else he was done for.

He turned on his comms for one last message, “This is Hangman, I’m going dark.” Afterwards he crushed the comms and left covered in dirt as he marched forward.

—

It took days. He fought through the wilderness. Hid from enemy patrol. Eliminated–, fought against other soldiers.

There was so much blood.

—

He woke up to the sound of machines beeping around him, the smell of antiseptic in the air, and the feeling of a dry-fucking throat.

What does a guy gotta do to get some water around here?

He opened up his eyes and saw a button by his bed and slowly inched his hand forward to grab and press it. His limbs felt so heavy, must be the good meds.

But hey, at least he wasn’t handcuffed to the bed. That’s a good sign, right? Meant he wasn’t being a complete incoherent shit head, or that he wasn’t in the enemy’s hands. 

Yay, progress. 

—

“-- The Navy thanks you for your service Lieutenant Seresin,” Jake snapped back to attention as his current CO filled him in on what happened. The older man was just droning on and on, but his limbs still felt heavy and there was a constant ache in his body. At least he could still lay in his hospital bed. “We’ll do a debrief once you're discharged. However, there is one more thing before I leave, Lieutenant.” The admiral paused as if choosing his words carefully. “It is stated in your file that your emergency contact would automatically be your current CO, which is me at the moment, is there anyone you would like me to contact, son?”

Jake paused and thought back to his last posting with the Dagger Squad. How they started having group hangouts, meals, and sleepovers during their break, continued whenever one or more of them were on leave and hanging around Miramar. He thought about how he had to drag himself up to his apartment and clean his wounds, how that would take forever, and how nice it would be to have someone– No. Most of the Daggers were on deployment last time he checked, the ones who were on leave didn’t deserve to have to deal with him. Mav is a permanent instructor in Top Gun, now, they won’t have time for him.

They were all he had and they deserved better.

“No, sir.”

—

It took more than a week to get himself settled in on his dingy base housing. He was at medical, flew stateside, medical again, and all that fun stuff.

He sighed as he laid down on his freshly made bed. Everything ached, his stitches felt like they were being pulled apart, and he was pretty sure he had a headache coming in. Wonderful.

He decided to open his phone to see what he missed.

He wondered if anyone messaged him.

Not really. It seems like it’s been more than a week since someone actually messaged him. And when they did it was to respond to something he sent to them. The Daggers group chat was going strong though.

He shouldn’t be surprised, they don’t even know the mission he’s been through. They don’t even know he’s back on the west coast.

But by god did it hurt that not even one of them bothered to send something in his more than 2 weeks of radio silence.

(He knew he was being irrational, they were all adults with busy lives. Hell, one of them could have been through something like he just went through and he and the others wouldn’t know. Right?)

—

He hissed as he disinfected his stitches and wounds, slowly wrapping them up in bandages. It’s okay, he’d be faster at doing this in a couple of days.

—

He felt his stomach rumble as he stared at the boiling pot of pasta. He forgot to cook earlier, well he was too tired too, and his stomach was paying for it. Maybe he should have just shelled out money for that pizza. Heck, he forgot to buy some kind of fucking sauce for the damn thing.

He’s usually too stingy to Doordash shit, but with how fatigued he felt every time he had to move, he was considering ordering groceries to be delivered at his front step.

—

While he was curled up in bed, everything was aching, his head feeling light. He felt his phone ping and he opened up the Dagger’s groupchat seeing the group talk about something so fucking stupid. 

He couldn’t help himself.

He roasted the shit out of them.

His phone was bombarded with notifications as his squad digitally squawked back in offense.

He smiled and put his phone down, for a minute he felt normal.

—

He wasn’t physically cleared for active duty, or to fly yet. He had to go through PT, training, counseling, evaluations, bla bla bla, the whole nine yards.

It was a pain, he missed being behind a stick. Missed being fast and bursting through the clouds and just watching the sky change colors.

Instead, he had to keep his feet on the ground as he went through fucking paperwork at Top Gun.

He gets surrounded by cocky-ass rookies, but he can’t school them.

It was horrible.

He looked up when he heard a knock at his door. “Hey, kid, heard we got a new Lieutenant coming to assist on base, didn’t think it was you, buddy,” Mav said smiling gently from where he leaned on Hangman’s door frame. “When did you get here?”

Hangman smirked back on the older man, slowly leaning back on his chair as he hid a wince from his stitches pulling. “Today's my third first day back at Top Gun, pops, just doing some paperwork.”

“Surprised you’re not out there flying, scared to lose to these rookies,” Mav teased sitting in front of his desk.

“Please Mav, I’m not like you, I’m here to be a good boy and not steal any multi-millionaire jets,” Hangman smirked. “At the moment at least.” Hangman said, flicking his toothpick to the side.

Maverick huffed out a laugh, “How was your last deployment, kid? I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Mav said, face turning serious. “Did something-?”

Hangman felt his heart clench, this is what he wanted, right? For the others to care, to notice, but why does it feel so wrong to admit-?

“Nah, Cap, I’m good, too good to be true in fact that I’m back here, now,” Hangman said leaning forward in his desk and giving Mav a disarming wink.

Mav gave him a once over, before sighing and shaking his head as he stood up. 

“Come over for dinner on Friday, some of the others are still on deployment or with their families. Heck, Bob, Fanboy, Coyote, and Bradley are on a road trip right now, they left a couple days ago, if they knew you were here they would have waited a while for you to come with them or something,” Mav said.

Jake shrugged, he knew about the road trip. He’s been back stateside for more than a week. His body would kill him if he came, though.

“Nah, it’s fine, pops, they probably already got it planned out, anyways, plus,” Hangman gave Mav a mischievous smile. “I get you all to myself for dinner, isn’t that a treat.”

Mav rolled his eyes as he walked to stand beside Jake’s chair. “Shut up, you brat, you just want to send pictures of my cooking to the squad to make them jealous,” Mav said as he ruffled his hair and slung an arm around the boy’s shoulders to pull him in a side hug. “It’s good to have you back, son.”

Jake turned his head to bury his head on the older man’s stomach for just a minute. “It’s good to be back, pops.”

—

“MmmMMm, this is the best fucking thing I’ve tasted in forever,” Jake groaned as he shovelled another bite of the steak. Mav was surprisingly talented behind the grill, and apparently the best mac and cheese was Ice’s personal recipe.

“I’m glad you like it, kid, make sure to eat your greens too,” Mav said smiling as he handed Jake the serving bowl of salad.

“Come on, Mav, let the boy enjoy his steak, he just came back from deployment,” Ice said grinning as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

Mav rolled his eyes upwards, “and people call me the irresponsible one.”

“Well, your Navy track record proceeds you.”

“As if yours is as clean as they think it is.”

“I’m better at not getting caught, also, which one of us actually remembered to do groceries this morning, love?” Ice said smirking and giving Jake a wink, making Jake remember to actually put the steak in his mouth as he watched the two banter.

It was surreal to see his Captain and the COMPACFLT in such a domestic situation.

Mav pouted and looked at Jake, “See what I have to deal with?”

Ice chuckled and gave Mav a small peck on the cheek, “You’re what I have to deal with. Forever.” Mav eyes softened at that as he intertwined their hands on the table.

“My wingman for life.”

Jake decided that he was being too nice and fake gagged, “you both our sickeningly sweet, there ain’t supposed to be anythin’ too sweet' with the steak, but you all decided to add too much sugar that ‘m growin’ cavities.” Jake said, narrowing his eyes at them.

“Too much sugar, hmm?” Ice said, raising a brow as he rested his chin on his fist. “So I suppose you don’t want the carrot cake I baked for dessert?”

Jake frowned, “Hey, hey, hey, I ain’t sayin’ that, carrot cake is good and healthy, I want some.”

Ice grinned wider, “What’s the magic word, Jacob?”

Jake rolled his eyes, “pleeaaaasseeee?” He drew out.

“Ah, ah, ah, no sass, young man,” Mav said, raising a fork at him as he stood up to presumably grab the cake.

Jake crossed his arms, “You can’t talk, Mav.”

“I can talk in my own house, kid. Remember, nobody likes a smartass.”

“Then why did Ice marry you?”

“My dashingly good looks, of course,” Mav said flashing a hollywood type smile as he grabbed the cake from the fridge.

Jake squinted, “I don’t see it.” Ice huffed out a laugh at that one as he started cutting up the cake. Jake perked up as Ice put down a big slice for him.

“Thank you, Admiral Kazansky,” Jake said, shoveling the cake in his mouth.

“What did I say about calling me admiral in my own home, son?”

“Not to do it because it makes you feel old, Ice.”

“Good job, now by the way, how are you Jake? Have your injuries healed nicely, or are they still sore?” Ice asks, for the first time looking at Jake seriously dead in the eye.

Jake froze and he felt ice go down his spine as he paused looking up at Ice wide eyed. He thought he got away with it, but of course, this is fucking Iceman, the commander of the Pacific fleet.

“Injuries? What injuries? Jake?” Mav said looking confused as he looked back and forth between the two.

Ice frowned at Mav, “You didn’t know? He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what, out with it, you two,” Mav sternly said.

Jake forced himself to give a small chuckle, “It’s nothing, pops, just a bit of a scuffle in my last deployment, nothing serious.”

He was in the sick-bay for more than a week.

Mav narrowed his eyes at Jake, “Uh-huh, does nothing serious cause you to be back stateside when your previous deployment was supposed to end in 3 months?”

Well, Mav didn’t make it this far for being dumb.

Jake poked down on his carrot cake, “I’m fine, pops, it’s nothin’, really.”

“Jacob Seresin, look at me.” Mav ordered, making Jake tense.

“It’s none of ya business, it’s my private file, you don’t need to know shit,” Jake growled, standing up, good mood ruined.

Jake felt his heart thump against his chest. They shouldn’t know, they can’t know. Why can’t they know? Because they’ll see you as weak. No they won’t. Yes, they will. He wanted them to be there, they can’t they won’t, stop being a bother, stop being a whiny--

“Jake, look at me,” Mav ordered again, albeit in a softer manner, Jake slowly met Mav's eyes, again. "Why didn't you tell us?" 

"I-I don't know," Jake softly admitted. 

He wanted them to find out for themselves, but he could have told them himself. He wanted them to be there sooner. And now that they know even though it's late. It was never their job to know, it was Jake’s job to communicate as a fucking adult.

“Do you really believe that we wouldn’t care?”

Jake shrugged in response. None of them noticed he wasn’t responding to messages for a couple of weeks.

Mav gave out a sigh, making Jake shrink on himself. “Is anyone helping you with taking care of your injuries, bud?”

“Nah, I’m good, pops, takes me a while, but I could figure it out on my own,” Jake said, sighing.

“You shouldn’t have too, son, come on, you need to tend to them before you go to bed, right? How about Mav will help you,” Ice said standing up. “I’ll get the first aid kit, Mav go settle Jake in the guest room.”

“That’s not necessary, sir-” Jake started, eyes wide.

“We know, but we want to help you, Jake,” Mav said gently clasping a hand on his shoulder steering him towards the room.

Jake could have fought, but he didn’t want to. He just nodded as they walked towards the room.

Mav made him sit down on the edge of the bed and ordered him to strip down to show the stitches, and Jake, too tired to argue just silently complied, unbuttoning his shirt to unveil the bandages wrapped around his torso and the patches of bruises scattered all around. 

He looked up when he heard Mav take a deep inhale of breath, seeing the pity in the old man’s eyes, making him scowl and look away. “I don’t want your pity.”

“I’m worried about you, Jake,” Mav said, softly. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“How’d ya know if I told someone?”

Mav gave him a look.

“My commanding officer is my emergency contact, he was the only one who needed to know,” Jake said, running a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know why I’m here, I can do this on my own–”

“At ease, Lieutenant Seresin.” Ice sternly said as he came in with a very big med kit. “Let’s clean up your wounds first, then we’ll talk, alright?”

“Unless you’re really uncomfortable with us helping you,” Mav said, looking sadly at him. “We’re not gonna force you to do anything, buddy, but it would ease our old hearts to see that you’re okay.” Mav said, forcing a smile that just looked sad.

And didn’t that make Jake’s heart clench.

“Fine,” Jake muttered, shifting forward and started removing his old bandages.

Mav gently took over, asking Jake to put his arms up so that he could get to them easier. Mav slowly removed the bandages, making sure skin wasn’t pulled, maneuvering Jake, so that his boy would be as comfortable as possible.

Ice crouched down in front of Jake and showed him the assortment of antibiotic ointments and creams, Jake nodded in consent, pointing out which ones he usually used. Ice nodded as he pulled them out and slowly moved his hand closer to Jake as he worked in tandem with Mav, both of them treating Jake with so much care.

When he let them help him, he expected it to be painful and much longer than if he had done it. That’s usually what happened anyways when he had to rely on others.

He was wrong.

They were slow, but steady, steady made their actions smooth, efficient, fast.

Ice let Jake lean forward, his forehead resting on the older man’s shoulder as the man quickly ran a hand through his hair before dabbling antibiotic cream to the wounds on his back.

Jake swore he just closed his eyes for one second.

“Buddy? Come on Jake-y, wake up for a bit, then you can go back to sleep, okay,” Mav said gently, nudging his shoulder.

Jake grumbled and felt Ice chuckle as he helped the younger man sit up, again.

“Come on, little prince, hands up, please,” Mav murmured, helping Jake into a big hoodie. “Can you change into sweatpants?”

Jake nodded as he clumsily complied, afterwards he blinked and suddenly Mav and Ice were tucking him in the guest room bed. Someone turned the lights off, and the two older men were saying their goodbyes when Jake tugged on Mav’s shirt.

“Mav? I’m sorry I didn’t tell ya, I-I don’t know why exactly I didn’t,” Jake said frowning looking up with half-lidded eyes. “W-wanted ya’ll to be there, just, hard,” Jake muttered.

He felt the bed dip beside him, a calloused hand cupping his cheek, “It’s okay, little prince, I understand, we’ll talk about it more once you rest up, okay?” 

“We’ll be there for you when you wake up, son, and we’ll always be there for you when we can,” Ice said, reaching over to stroke Jake’s hair. 

That was enough for Jake to let himself rest.

—--

("I didn't finish my carrot cake," Jake muttered against Mav's chest.

"It's okay, we still have some more, and how about Ice makes you some chocolate cake tomorrow, buddy?" Mav softly said running a hand through Jake's strands, smirking as Ice scowled at him.

“Didn’t you just bitch about how Jacob here needs his greens, and now–”

“Please, Pa?” Jake said looking up. “I mean the carrot cake is delicious and I love it, so if you’re busy, I get it–”

“No, son, I can make the cake, I’ll just have to use my husband for some logistics help, okay?” Ice said, cutting off his rant as he rubbed Jake’s back.

“I-If it’s okay with you and pops, I don’t want to be a bo-”

“You’re not a bother, plus we were already planning on making chocolate cake for a while, you just gave us an excuse to move up our plans, and have an early cheat day,” Mav said, wagging his eyebrows with a wink.

“More like permanent cheat week,” Ice mattered.)

—

(“Put me down as your emergency contact, please.” Mav said as he squeezed Jake tighter, to make sure the boy won’t have to see the tears building in his eyes. “Please, son.”)

—

(Imagine what happens once the Dagger Squad finds out what happened to Jake.)

[deejadabbles]

HI DEEJA!!!

i am THIRSTING for Kix with:

44. “Don’t bother, I don’t need to take it all off to fuck you.”

Kira!! Thank you for sending this in, I need an excuse to explore writing Kix <3 got a little carried away with this one (*clone wars announcer voice* "will Deeja ever be able to write smut without complex feelings? Only time will tell!" spoiler alert, the answer is probably no) but I hope it satisfies!

Kix x Fem!reader 18+ minors DNI Word count: 1,239 Warnings: fingering, worried Kix, mentions of anxiety.

Eyes tracked a frantic man as he paced back and forth on the landing zone. It was astonishing what a mere hour of worry could do to a man, especially a man hardened by war. 

“Vod, you need to calm-”

“Jesse,” for once, Kix’s tone was deadly and not even the kind of deadly he used with his medic voice. Instead, his brother’s name was hissed through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed on the other man, “if you tell me to calm down, I swear to the maker.”

Kix didn’t have to elaborate on the threat, Jesse knew full well what his friend was capable of when pushed. But, more than that, he knew his brother was just venting, frustrated. Scared. Above all, Kix was scared.

Barely more than sixty standard minutes had passed since the camp lost contact with your scouting party, sixty standard minutes of Kix working himself into a frenzy on every possibility of what could have happened. If it was anyone but you, Kix would have stayed calmer, would have reminded himself that loss of contact wasn’t too out of the ordinary. The separatist comm disruptors were still being taken down by the various squads working across the planet, comms being jammed was to be expected. But this was you, things were different when it came to you.

For Kix, things were always different when it came to you.

Jesse was just contemplating how hard it would be to pull rank and order Kix to go back to his bunk when he saw a flash on the horizon. Thank the force!

Kix must have seen Jesse look, because he was instantly snapping his own eyes to the sky, and he let out a shaky breath when he saw the republic ship coming in. It looked unscathed, but Kix still held his breath, still watched with his heart pounding in his chest as it closed in and landed.

The medic rushed to the party unloading, eyes scanning, searching, until-

“Kix?”

You had just pulled off your helmet as you hopped down from the transport and the look in your eyes said you clocked his worry in an instant.

“What happened?” he asked, trying to keep his tone even, distracted as he looked you up and down, searching for any minor mark and scrape.

When your hand touched his cheek, Kix’s frantic gaze snapped up to yours. 

“Hey, hey, we’re okay, Kix. Everyone’s okay. We just had our comms jammed, like Rex warned us might happen.”

His breath was still caught in his chest, sticking on the barbed wire of his worry, even as he looked into your eyes, even as your hand stroked his cheek. Eyes that crinkled at the corners from your reassuring smile, the hand that helped eased every tension in his body. You were safe, but something was still clawing at his insides. 

Without thinking, Kix took your hand in his, turned, and started walking.

Being all but dragged behind him, you called out, “Wait- Kix, what are you doing? I have to debrief-”

“I don’t care.”

He didn’t like the strain in his tone as he made his way to the camp proper, but he paid it little mind. When he reached a tent meant to store ordnance and other supplies, he pulled you ahead of him, urging you inside. The moment both of you were shielded from prying eyes, Kix was on you, yanking you hard against his chest and crushing his lips to yours.

You made a noise, somewhere between a protest, a squeak, and a heavenly moan, and his mouth swallowed it whole.

“Worried,” he managed, still devouring you as if it was the first time, “was so worried. Thought I-” he moaned hot against your lips when you gripped the back of his head, all thoughts, even the half-coherent ones, falling from his mind entirely.

For now, he just focused on you, the feel of you, the taste of you, even the sound of you when you let out that little gasp as he pushed you back against a stack of crates. Kix hadn’t meant for heat to start low in his stomach. 

All he had wanted was a moment alone, to kiss you, to hold you, to breathe you in before he handed you over to his COs. But now, now that he felt you pushing against him, now that the air in his lungs was being stolen by you and not his blinding anxiety, now, Kix needed more.

He pushed you harder against the crates, hips pressing firmly so you understood his intentions as he finally moved his mouth to start sucking and nipping at your neck. The breathy way his name left your lips sent him over the edge in an instant.

“I need you,” he growled against your skin and you responded by reaching fingers to the clasps of his chestpiece. He continued to suckle and lick the spots he knew made you weak as you fumbled with the armor and finally Kix grabbed your wrists, holding them tight. “Don’t bother, I don’t need to take it off to fuck you.”

Fucking hell, the sound you made at his words was sinful.

The medic leaned back, just a little, as he released your wrists. He tried to keep his actions calm, he truly did, but Kix knew he looked frantic as he bit into the fingertip of his glove and pulled it off with his teeth. With his eyes locked on yours, he pressed his bare fingers to your mouth, while his other hand reached down for your belt.

When you flicked your tongue out to pull him into your mouth, the glove fell from his teeth, tumbling somewhere forgotten on the tent floor. He almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing as he watched you suck on his fingers, making them nice and slick. Again, Kix could barely control the neediness of his movements as he pulled them out and unbuckled your belt.

You kept your eyes on his as he lowered his hand, tucking them between your bodies, then your head pitched back when he slid the wet digits between your folds. He made sure to palm your clit with the heel of his hand as he dipped inside, watching you bite your lip with a moan of his own. 

As you bucked into his touch, Kix leaned in, pressing his lips to your ear. “I can fuck you just like this, mesh’la. I don’t even need my cock to make you come.”

“Bu-” your word was lost when he pressed a little harder, laying firm attention on every sensitive spot.

“What was that?” his purr was teasing and he pressed a kiss just below your ear. That’s when he pulled his fingers out, your slick now coating them thoroughly. He took the tips and rubbed them along your clit, moved them just the way he knew you loved. “Come on, love, what were you going to say?”

When he nuzzled your cheek you turned into his touch, pecking his lips before you found your voice again, “I want your cock too, please, Kix.”

He hummed, delighting in the way you called for him, the way you needed him. Maker, you were perfection.

Kix never stopped stroking you as his other hand went to his codpiece. “Well, since you asked so nicely. Just be good for me, my sweet girl.”

Tag list: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5

[whump-mania]

Hi. Don’t know if requests are still open but how about this? Leader Whumper who whumps Right Hand Man Whumpee either emotionally, physically, or both and has been doing it for a long time. Whumpee doesn’t say anything about it because they know Whumper is the thing that makes the team work and the idea of the team splitting apart because of something so trivial as this makes them feel sick. Besides who’s to say anyone would believe Whumpee, Whumper was always more liked than them.

Teammates meanwhile don’t know the whump going on but they do notice shifts in personality by whumpee or how they seem more injured than the rest after missions.

The team waited for Whumpee to give them all their debrief meeting after their latest mission. Whumpee ran one of several squads on the team, and they were considered one of the best, even perhaps second-best to Leader. Whumpee was pretty well-liked by their squad. They knew how to keep things together, but they never got outwardly angry. And they had a caring side.

Today, though, Whumpee entered the meeting room with a loud slamming open of the door. The expression on their face was bitter, a look the team wasn’t at all used to.

“Whumpee…?” One teammate dared to ask after seeing their body language. “Are you okay?”

“That’s sir,” Whumpee bit. Whumpee never enforced titles. Something about today was different, the team tonight.

Now that the team got a clear look of Whumpee’s face, a swelling bruise was visible on their cheek and another was forming on their temple. A quick glance at Whumpee’s eyes was proof enough that they’d been crying.

“You were all shit today,” Whumpee began bitterly. “It’s like all the training went out the window. I mean, seriously! Do I prepare you all for nothing?!”

“Um…W-Whumpee—”

“Sir.”

The teammate speaking cleared their throat. “S-Sir…we, um…I thought we actually did well today. We completed our assignment with no casualties,” they reported calmly. “W—Sir, you…you didn’t have those bruises on your face a minute ago—”

The second the teammate said the word ‘bruises,’ Whumpee was storming over to them and slapping them to the ground. “Did I fucking tell you to talk about me?! This is about you, and how none of your training or technique translated to your mission!”

The team backed away, startled by Whumpee’s outburst. This was extremely uncommon. Whumpee would never hurt anyone outside of training. Ever. The teammate they’d hit stayed on the ground, too afraid to move.

“Because of all of you, Leader is disappointed in me. Thinks I’m not teaching you well enough.” Whumpee stepped back again to address the whole squad. “If you all don’t get your shit together, you will sorely regret it. All of you will be training overtime tonight. Don’t fuck this up for me.”

After Whumpee angrily stormed out of the room, the rest of the squad quickly moved to help their injured teammate. They all started murmuring and whispering in confusion.

“Are you okay?”

“What was that?”

“They’ve never acted like that before…it was scary.”

“Do you think something happened to them?”

“They had all these bruises…”

“Was it Leader? Did Leader hurt them?”

As much as they all wanted to speculate, they had training to do. They shuffled out of the room, keeping Whumpee’s odd behavior in the back of their minds the rest of the day.

[nrdmssgs]

The dropouts (part 1)

Masterlist

you are here I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5 I Part 6

Genre: Angst, action, occasional comfort, smut at the very start Pairing: Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova (OC) x Nikto Summary: Nikto is quite calm about the fact, that one day he will die on a battlefield. Until he meets his death.

TWs: This whole series will be revolving around a person living with an acute dissociative disorder. This is a serious condition and people living with it deserve nothing but endless love and any help, they personally would want. That be said, this is a work of fiction, nothing more.

AN: For those of you, who are asking themselves what the hell is going on and how we ended here - this is my take on how would Olgas life look like in a universe, where she doesn't end up with Nikolai. Her series with Nik are not over, don't worry. He's my №1 for my girl! I was planning to a completely other character for her, but my dear @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot came and said 'hey, NIKTO'. And I thought, why the hell not, since he almost killed her in the original series. So if I am allowed - I would dedicate this series to my friend Chris, who keeps reminding me, that healing is an option. Even when both of them are a mess.

“What's the color of your death's eyes.” Sasha descends on his length, her breath hitches and then her breasts flinch with a sharp inhale.

Her words: half a tease, half a pep talk, doesn't awake any respond. Nikto is too deep in his thoughts to let a single sound slip past his lips. He should consider himself lucky for having someone like Sasha. She's always hungry for him, but not as much as to demand more than these occasional nights. She is a brave little thing - doesn't hold abomination for what is left of his face. So what if their lips never meet - it cuts no ice as long as he can grab her thighs greedily and drive her closer to his calloused torso. 

He doesn't need this uplifting ‘your death is non-existent’ chatter today. Fuck death when he's got this little thing. Or better: fuck her, until she forgets her own eyes color.

The morning after catches Nikto alone - they don't have that much to talk about after the deed is done, so Sasha tend to leave him as soon as possible. The only thing, she leaves him is a weak scent of her perfume on his pillow.

Nikto checks his phone and squints at the bright display. It's five in the morning - too early to start the preparations for their next operation. He is not stupid enough to come to the weaponry before others. König will charge the first soldier he sees there with inventory control for the whole squad. And Nikto would sooner find out the color of his deaths eyes than take a part in that bullshit.

***

All the noises die as soon as familiar footsteps and a ‘good morning, Chimeras’ reach soldiers ears. Commander Zhar usually don't like to repeat twice when it comes to final debriefing.

“Our intel stays confirmed: the East group is preparing five containers of illicit arms and chemicals. The trade is going to take place at the former Vyshera base. Neither of the trading parties awaits major problems, they want things to go smooth and nice. And I want their toys. Not a half of them, like the last time, mind you!” Olga looks her soldiers in the eyes, making sure, they get her message. “Every last one of their containers belongs to Chimera. And we are to deliver these news.”

While others are boarding on a plane, Zhar slows down near Nikolai. One pair of concerned glances shared is louder than any words. 

“If KorTac steps in - extract people and-” She tries to talk fast enough to end the phrase, but Nik still cuts her out.

“I am not letting you fight a bloody army alone, Olga.” 

“And I am giving them neither my people nor my catch. I accepted your job offer on one condition…” the first notes of anger appear in her voice.

“I know, I know. You work for me as long as I don't hold you back.” Nik holds up his hands in a surrounding gesture. “But I don't want you to fight every day as if there was no tomorrow, ok? I want you around in a week and a month after that, and years after.”

Zhar shakes her head and takes a step past Nik, but he catches her shoulder. 

“You didn't survive that hell only to die here, soldier. Not as long as I'm in charge. If things go south - I'm waiting for you to return, or I'm dragging you back with my own hands.”

***

Nikto is waiting patiently until the Colonel recalls his existence, but König keeps assigning other soldiers to comb through different parts of the Vyshera base, ignoring him. Nikto follows them with his gaze and huffs each time, when someone gets an especially ‘hot’ piece of base. He wishes, it was him descending to the pitch black suffocating hell of the cellars, or facing a bloody chopper, these Chimera bastards brought with them. 

He would never admit it, not even before the Firebrand, his best friend. But Nikto is tired. So tired, he wishes, this was his last mission ever. He wouldn't betray his company, he would fight tooth and nail for them until the very end. It is only that now, something deep inside him craves this very end to come sooner.

Still, he gets nothing. Not even a walk around the base. Nikto throws an angry gaze at his boss, but remains silent as yet another soldier leaves their transport. Time flows so slowly, that he barely holds back a big yawn. 

“Nikto? How's your leg?” For the first time König addresses to him.

His leg? Damn, he got shot weeks ago, and Colonel still worries about it? Pathetic. Nikto is a bloody animal - one scratching bullet is not enough to throw him away from the fight. He springs up on his two and takes his gun out.

“Tell me, whose head you want, boss.” 

***

The air around him smells like smoke and blood, a metallic taste tingles on his tongue, as he waits for the right moment to strike. Sounds of a huge fight echo in every corner of an old base. Nikto located a group of mercs, securing the area around the container and set the traps on their possible way out nicely. All that is left is to nudge them, send these idiots running in the right direction. 

His anticipation is overshadowed by a subtle figure circling the perimeter around the container. This one seems like their executive, since the others keep reporting to them. Nikto tried to take a better look at that person, but they evaded any open sight as soon as he took his binoculars.

“Two mafia groups, god knows, how many merc teams fighting for a juicy bone… and then there's you, little shit, hiding from Nikto?” He mumbles to himself, as he's used to. The subtle figure freezes for a moment and looks up, right at the gap between two dilapidated walls, where Nikto is waiting. It's impossible to notice him from that far with all the smoke and dust dancing between them. It should be impossible, isn't it? 

He doesn't see their eyes, but a single feeling of their gaze finding him, taking a hold of his figure, sends shivers down his body. Nikto recoils and presses his back to a far wall, hiding from their sight. He takes a deep breath and lets his nerves settle.

“Just seeing shit. They would see. Wouldn't see it coming.”

Nikto spends not more than a few minutes away from his watching post. But when he returns - an angry hiss leaves his chest.

His enemies were leaving. Not in the direction, he planned for them to leave. And the worst part - that little shit stood alone in the middle of a now empty space, looking in his direction.

“You will regret this, poor bastard.” Niktos voice drops low as he turns back and jumps down the rubble, starting his hunt. “You will die slowly!”

When he first reaches his enemy - Nikto is already determined to not shoot them. Oh no, he wants their agony, their tears. He wants them to see their own guts, before they go. So he opts from a gun to a knife. 

His opponent fires a few rounds in his direction. Not so much to actually harm him - it feels, as if they just try to keep Nikto at a distance. Still, he pursues his target with relentless determination. The smaller figure, agile as a wisp of smoke, darts and weaves through the carnage, evading his every attempt to seize them.

The chase felt good, it felt intoxicating. So much so, that Nikto didn't notice how they ran to the edge of the collapsed floor. 

A burning void of acrid smoke stretches a few meters wide forward, an opposite crumbling edge of the floor is barely visible. A primal fear grips Niktos heart for a fleeting moment, a familiar voice screeching ‘stop right now’. 

Nikto doesn't stop - just slows down for a mere moment. Yet that is enough. Before he could react, his enemy leaps forward, gracefully hurdling through the black smoky veil with an inhuman determination.

For a moment, Nikto stands frozen in disbelief, his gaze locked on the figure who dared to confront the hungry void without flinching. And then, as if sensing his hesitation, the subtle figure turns to face him.

“So eager to die. Oh, we shall deliver then,” Nikto smirks.

Without a second thought, he lunges forward, his movements fueled by a surge of adrenaline. And that's when he sees the eyes of his death. 

She has an intense gaze, a sharp one, like a bird of prey. And her eyes paralyze him. The only thing, that was left is to knock her off her feet. But somehow, and Nikto woulds be ever able to explain this, he ends up under her, his own knife pressed against his carotid.

“She is going to kill us.”

“She is.”

“Kill us all.”

But the woman doesn't press the cold steel of his knife further. Her eyes roam down his uniform, until they freeze. She curses through her teeth and presses her knee against his chest, making it almost impossible for him to breathe. 

Nikto flinches, his gaze unfocuses and his body stops fighting her. He just watches her, while she opens his holster.

“She's going to kill us.”

“Quiet.” Nikto realizes, he said it out loud, when she answered him.

“She's… she's going… we know, we know, we see it in her eyes. She has our death's eyes.”

She ignores his haste whispers and cocks his pistol right next to his jaw. They say, one sees their whole life at such a moment. Every major event of his life should appear before his eyes. But everything Nikto sees is his death's green eyes. And somehow, he is not afraid to die. If this is how he goes - so be it. He is not disappointed, that there was no big fight for life. After all, he lived so many lives simultaneously and each one of them seemed to be too shitty to fight for. 

“Kill us. Kill every single one.”

The sound of a gunshot deafens him. 

***

“It hurts?” Sasha touches his skin, bringing a comforting chill to a darkening stripe on his swollen neck.

Nikto slowly shakes his head, not looking away from the ceiling. He can't bring himself to look at her. His ears are still ringing, his head keeps spinning, as if he hasn't brought a whole day in the medbay at the KorTac base.

What happened there? Why didn't that soldier kill him? He would in her place. Hell, he would do it in his own place… Only he didn't. Nikto failed. 

“Let me help you forget this.” Sasha reaches out to his palm to bring it to her heart as she usually does, but Nikto pulls his hand away.

“Don't.” He should have added ‘please’ to not sound this intimidating, but his breath catches in the throat, when he recalls another touch to his hands. 

It was soft, carrying. He remembers screaming at his enemy when she tried to take off his mask, so she opted to taking off his gloves. He was still shouting when she started massaging his bare hands, repeating ‘shhh, listen to me, big guy, just stay quiet, and I will get you out of here, ok? I'm not going to hurt you.’

This felt so terribly wrong. She wasn't supposed to be a person - just a target, another line in his mission report. But somehow she cooed all the voices in his head to sleep. She silenced all the sounds around him.

“Why?” Sasha sounds confused. Just a few days ago everything was well and there was nothing that could possibly break Nikto. 

He doesn't know, how to respond. He doesn't even notice, how the girl leaves him alone in a room. His many voices slowly come back to life, offering him one answer after another.

“Because her touch simply exists”?

“Because she held my life, when I surrendered it, and chose to give it back just like that”?

“Because I looked my death in her eyes. They are green.”

[jawabear]

Could I request angsty with fem reader and Santiago Garcia (I think he fits this scenario the best, but also if you don’t want to write him any other of the triple frontier boys will do!), in which they’re both military and she just keeps getting herself in too much danger to get the job done, and he worries too much because he’s in love with her, but can’t take it anymore and leaves her? I think these 3 prompts fit well, but feel free to not include them if you don’t get inspired by them!!❤️

14. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

15. “It’s just a scratch” “you got stabbed” “it didn’t go that deep though”

51. “I don’t want to be anywhere near you!”

Every sense of it

Captain John Price x Reader

Not my GIF

A/N: this is quite short and very angsty. I hope it’s okay? And what you were thinking of.

Genre: Angst

Warnings: fem!reader, hurt, crying, break up, mention of suicide (no one is suicidal, it’s used as a descriptor (?)), mentions of injury, if anything else let me know

Summary: John has had enough of being hurt

John hated working with you. He hated being put on missions with you. Hated having to watch you on the field fighting and killing your path through. You were too reckless. Yes, your methods, unconventional as they may be, worked well. They had never failed you and never failed the team. But they were unconventional. And dangerous. So very dangerous that Price would always go ahead, just so he didn’t have to watch and you always put yourself in the firing line. He was sure one day it would lead to your end and he couldn’t bare to watch that. 

You tested his patients constantly in debriefing. Always saying that you completed the mission so its fine. 

But it was not fine. It was never fine. John knew that injury was never inescapable on the battle field but the extent you walked away with was only supposed to be from a war. Yes, you had competed every mission you had been on. But the cost was always heavy on your body. Narrowly escaping with your life very time. 

And John was nearing his breaking point. Yes, he was your Captain and had a duty to protect you as a comrade. But he was also your lover. He had a duty to protect you as his girlfriend. What started off as a blissful, warm relationship had turned into the silent, cold one you had now. He couldn’t remember the last time he fucked you, or slept next to you, or even seen you in anything but casts, bandages and your uniform. It wasn’t a relationship anymore. Not in any sense of the word.

And thats what he hated the most. 

He loved you. He had loved you since the first moment he saw you. He distinctly remembered muttering to Gaz that he was going to marry you one day. And he had dreamt of that day ever since. To see you walking down the aisle to him, saying your vows, being his wife, maybe even going on to start a family. He would leave the army to raise his own squad of little ones with you. 

But the more he watched you out on the field, the further away that dream slipped from him. Every time you got beaten, or bruise, or missed death by a hair’s width, the laugh of his children disappeared on the wind. The smell of his home replaced by blood and gun powder. The sight of your wedding nothing more than a mud caked field covered in bodies you dropped as he hoped none of them were yours. 

Price stormed into the medical bay making everyone tense as he glared at you getting patched up from your latest hero act. “You just don’t know when to quit do you?” He growled. The nurse who was applying the gauze to your side audibly whimpered at the harshness of his tone. “Do you really have no regard for your own life?” 

“It’s fine” 

“No!” He barked. The nurse sat up and quickly scampered away, it was just the two of you now. “No. It is not alright. Nothing about that, about what you do is alright. If it was, you wouldn’t be in here getting patched up, yet again”

“Its not bad” you mumbled as you ran your hand over the fresh gauze. “Its just a scratch” 

John now stood right in front of you, his anger flooding out of him. His rage burning into the top of your head as you looked down. “You got fucking stabbed, (Y/N)”

“It didn’t go deep. I’ll survive” you shrugged. 

“For how long?” He questioned “because in my opinion, your days are fucking numbers. And I have a feeling its in the single fuckin’ digits now, love” 

“It’s the job, John. We do what we have to do”

“Don’t pull that shit on me” he pointed a sharp finger at you and shook his head “don’t get noble on me. What you do is not part of the job. Its fuckin’ suicidal. You need to think before you act or you will end up dead”

“If thats what it takes to complete the mission” 

John let out a laugh and stood back from you “fuck you. You really don’t care do you. You really don’t care about what happens to you or the people you’d leave behind. But if thats what you want for yourself, I’m not going to stand in your way. Or care. Or love you”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m done, love. I’m done with it all. With you and your sick ways of handling a mission. You’re too fucking reckless, careless and I’m sick of watching it. Sick of wondering at what point I’ll turn to see you dead in the grass or beaten so badly you may as well be dead. Its clear you don’t care, so I’m not wasting anymore time on caring about you either” 

He watched as tears fell from your eyes. He watched the way your bottom lips trembled. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and tell you he was sorry and that he loved you. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He had to stay true to his decision. 

“W-Wait, John. Can we…let’s talk about this” 

“And what good do you think that will do? We’ve spoke about it before. I’ve told you all this before yet you’re always surprised when I bring it up again. Let’s face it. You’re never going to change. So I can’t stand by you and watch it” 

“B-But I love you” your breathing began to pick up as you cried harder. Your heart burning in your chest “I love you John. I’m sorry! I’ll change! I will! Just please! Please don’t leave me!”

“No (Y/N)” he shook his head “you won’t” 

You stood and fell into his chest. Sobbing into his shirt and you grabbed at his back “no!” You screamed. “No! John please don’t leave me! I love you! I love you! I love you!” 

“(Y/N). Stop” he warned. 

“No! I won’t. Please John! You can’t leave me! I need you!”

“And I need you. I love you (Y/N). I’ve loved you since I first saw you. But how can I have you if you’re fuckin’ dead, eh?” He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you off him. 

You looked up at him, snot no doubt falling from your nose but you didn’t care. “I will change. I promise. I won’t do it anymore” 

John sucked his lips behind his teeth and shook his head “no. I can’t. I can’t trust your word. I can’t trust you. I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to love you. I’m done” he sat you back down and turned. 

“You’re being selfish!” You yelled at him. You knew it would anger him. Your knew his blood was boiling but you had to keep him in there with you. To give you a change to persuade him that you would in fact change. Persuade him and you. 

“Selfish?” He said, his voice dripping venom as he turned in his heel. “Don’t fucking talk to me of selfish. You don’t have the right to say that to me. No right to say it to anyone with the way you act”

“But you’re thinking of yourself. Not how you’re making me feel…” it was a shitty thing to say. You hated yourself for saying it but you needed more time. More time to think about your words. 

“I. Don’t. Care.” He spat “I don’t care about how I’m making you feel. But now you know how it does feel. Now you have the smallest glimpse of how I feel when I see you piss assing about on the field, getting hurt, nearly getting killed. You deserve the hurt. But I don’t. I don’t serve to be hurt by you anymore. I don’t want to be with you! I don’t want to be anywhere near you!” 

And with that, he left. Left you. In every sense of the word. 

5/2/23

[sashketter]

Been jumping between chapters, writing the series about Riyo Chuchi and the Clone Underground. This scene came up completely unbidden and I love it. Hope y'all do, too. Warning: it's Rexiyo themed.

~~~

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Rex jerks awake. Riyo pins him to the bed, his left arm wrapped around her sleeping body curled around his side. Moonlight still streams in, high and incandescent, from the large windows. He fumbles with his free hand on the bedside table until he finds his comlink.

“Rex here,” he whispers.

“Rex! Where have you been?” Howzer sounds stressed, as always. “How long does it take to debrief the senator?”

Sounds of a commotion flood out of the speaker. Rex swings the comlink over the bedside, hoping the noise didn’t wake Riyo. She inhales, shifts her shoulders, and settles her head closer to his. He waits for her breathing to even out before resuming the call.

On the other side of the transmission, Rex hears the unmistakable voices of his brothers. They hush each other in turns.

“Leave him alone!” Gregor chirps. “If the senator wants to show him a good time—”

“What?” Howzer is incredulous. “We don’t have ti—” The sound of plastoid hitting plastoid stops him short. “Ow! Frotz tun!”

Gregor giggles. “What? Was that—” Sharp grunts turn into muted shouts and curses in Basic and Twi’leki before Echo’s gruff voice chimes in.

“Sorry, Rex. Uh, just wanted to let you know we’ve got everything locked down here at the base.” Echo tries his best to sound in control, but Rex can sense his exasperation.

Gregor’s laugh cuts through in the background, distant but audible. “Oh, ho ho ho! You’re gonna have to do better than that, ca— Mmph!” A muffled crash moves the captains out of earshot. Echo must have snuck the comlink away.

Echo sighs. “Just tell the senator we’re fine.”

Rex smiles. “Will do. Thanks, Echo. I’ll be back in half a rotation. Over and out.”

~~~

I love the image of a red-faced Howzer tackling a giggling Gregor over a line of crates and Echo, off to the side, just shaking his head and palming his face. He traded one rowdy squad for another lol

And according to at least two unverified sources, "frotz tun" means "fuck you" in Twi'leki. You're welcome.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

I know I already asked once but again if it isn't to late 'routine kisses' Shigadabi, coz I love the dynamics you give them

Routine Kisses: 

The first time it happens is because Dabi is being a jackass and is trying to goad at Duster. He's always trying to goad at Duster, so no one else even blinks at it. Had been getting ready to go out on a job, had literally been standing in the middle of the bar with Kurogiri's portal opening up and Shigaraki had told them,

"Don't get caught," and because Dabi can't help but goad and because he's squad leader for this mission (almost always squad leader when he goes out on a job unless Shig is going into the field with them too), he'd said, 

"That's it? No good luck kiss?" Really was not expecting Shigaraki's head to cock slightly, couldn't see his expression behind his mask and there had been a very slight pause. And then Shigaraki stepped right into his space, shifted the hand away and pressed his lips to his. Dabi had been so fucking stunned that he had been gaping when the other man had pulled away. 

"Good luck, now fucking go." And Shigaraki seemed completely nonplussed as he'd placed the hand back over his face and the others had shaken their own shock and started to move through the portal. Dabi shook himself, sneered, and had quickly followed. Really didn't like the idea that he'd been shown up by Duster. But he had more important things to worry about. Like keeping the idiot squad on track and making sure no one got arrested. 

The job had gone off without a hitch, a miracle in itself, and Toga had snickered and said that Tomura's good luck kiss must have done it. 

///

The next job he's in charge of goes fucking horribly. It's not anyone's fault really, they all did what they were supposed to, they were as prepared as they could have been for it, but it just didn't go off as smoothly as they'd wanted it to. Didn't get as much out of it as they'd wanted either. It just fucking sucked. And when they all had been spread out through the bar after their debriefing, the job having gone so badly they all were collectively moping and Kurogiri had loosened his stinginess on his good booze, Spinner had said this time, a little drunk, 

"Everything went wrong 'cause you didn't give Dabi his good luck kiss, Shig." Had been a little drunk, his head leaning over the back of the couch. Duster had snorted from his place at the bar, his own glass halfway to his lips. 

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." 

Dabi had just rolled his eyes, finished his drink, and didn't think about that comment further. More interested in putting his quirk-heightened tolerance to the limit that night. 

///

But the next job, just as they were leaving again, Shigaraki had caught his elbow and had pressed a quick, light kiss to the edge of his lips, "Good luck, don't fuck this up." 

And he had managed not to gape, not to get flustered this time. "You're such a creep," he'd said without any venom, rolled his eyes and headed out with the others. 

The job had gone perfectly.

///

Been doing a lot of odd jobs for AFO, and when the next one had rolled around Dabi had waited for a second by the door, but Shigaraki hadn't come any closer. Doing his best to just sound nonchalant he'd said, 

"Well come on then, not like we have an HR department I can report you to." Wondered if it was because the others were already out the door that made Duster catch him with a deadly hand around his waist, pull away his mask, and kiss his lips like he had the first time. Wonders if no one else being around is what made him kiss back, just for a second. And then Shigaraki had pulled away with a quiet, 

"Good luck," and Dabi shook himself, turned and waved over his shoulder, 

"Don't wait up, boss." 

Another good job. The sarcastic comment had turned to routine after that.

///

Hadn't gotten a kiss before the summer camp job. They had new people on the squad, Dabi had been ready to ignite with his nerves not knowing if he was going to see Shoto, and Duster had been scratching his neck bloody with his own anxiety about living up to his teacher's expectations. Things had gone pretty well, lost some people, but not anyone they really liked, and they'd gotten the kid. For a second it seemed like that was going to break the superstition around the good luck kisses. And then everything had gone up in fucking smoke. 

///

Miserable after that, had barely been around the rest of the League as they all scattered to do their jobs. Also hadn't gotten a kiss from Shig before he went out to try and recruit and the absolute fucking goose egg he'd netted on that extended mission seemed to reinforce to the rest of the group that good luck kisses were fucking absolutely necessary for their continued success. Which. Fucking superstitious and weird, but literally everything always seems to go wrong and it's not like it's some horrible hardship. So. 

"Not helping with the baby, working on a new recruit, think you'll like them." He tells Duster as they are standing in Ujiko's lab. And yeah, Toga's right, he doesn't want to go back because the beast if fireproof and that means he's totally useless, but he's also got a hero spy on the hook, and that could be interesting, could be useful. Pretty sure that Hawks will actually flip with the right pressure applied in the right place at the right time. Could be very, very useful if he figures out when and where that is. 

"That's fine Dabi, I look forward to meeting them." Looks over his shoulder at him with a smile. Because Duster has mellowed out so fucking much now that he doesn't have AFO holding his leash anymore. 

"If you're not joining them Dabi, perhaps you would like to help me run a field test with the new nomu?" He glances at Shig, who inclines his head slightly. 

"Yeah, sure. Whatever, Doc." 

Shig cracks his neck, "Send us back." An order to the doctor, but turns as Dabi starts to move deeper into the lab, Shig catching his wrist and Dabi turns automatically, accepting the kiss. "Good luck, firefly." 

Huh, that's new. "Yeah, don't eat shit, Duster." 

The rest of them are gone in a few seconds with more of that nasty gunk in their throats. Ujiko looks a little bewildered which Dabi doesn't really get, but he doesn't say anything before the other man takes him to go meet Hood. Interesting to have a nomu who can talk back, that has a mind of its own. Sounds like the perfect way to test Hawks' limits though. 

///

He's honestly not sure if the field test is a success or not. On the one hand they lose Hood, people rally behind Endeavor, and Hawks is thoroughly pissed off with him which is unfortunate. On the other hand the doctor is genuinely impressed with how effective the new breed is and has great data on how to push the other High-Ends still in the tanks, he manages to swipe Endeavor's blood so he can have evidence backing up his big reveal down the line, and while Hawks is pissed off and avoiding him, he manages to track down his mother and all of his dirty little secrets. Perfect pressure to get him to flip properly. Dabi will take a half success, figures that Duster must have taken half of the luck with him on his own job. Certainly in higher spirits that he would have thought he'd be in when he meets the group on the outskirts of Deika to deal with the fucking army of people who apparently want a piece of them. 

Catches Duster by the collar of his coat before they start to make their way into the city proper, and Shigaraki, for all that he's exhausted, is in much higher spirits than Dabi'd expected. Immediately wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in. Not a quick peck this time, kisses him properly. Kisses him hard and licks into his mouth and makes Dabi a little flustered, a little dazed, a little dizzy. 

"Don't die." 

"Yeah, gonna try to avoid that." He manages after a second. "You too." 

They do manage not to die and despite the myriad injuries across Duster, Twice, and Toga's bodies, they do ultimately chalk this up as a win. Four of them now have awakened quirks, they won over the doctor's beast, and they now have an army at their command. Yeah, no, this was a successful mission. Dabi doesn't really think anything else about the kiss. 

///

Been busy as all fucking hell as they reorganize and rebrand the Metahuman Liberation Army into the Paranormal Liberation Front, busy as he keeps chipping away at Hawks, busy because Duster is healing, busy, busy, busy. But it's going well. Pretty sure Hawks is close to breaking. Just wants friends, home, family, Dabi invites him around to the new base with Shigaraki's permission and half of the army keeping an eye on him. Sends Twice and Toga to go be their usual excitable, puppy-dog selves around him and Hawks is breaking. Likes them. Dabi is sure he'll flip. Knows the second he does that they've won the war. Has been putting a lot of eggs in the bird's basket, but he thinks the hero could really be worth it. 

Coming out of a Lieutenants meeting and spots the bird waiting down the hall, chatting up some other members while he does so. Isn't even in his hero costume today which bodes well. Never hangs out with other heroes out of uniform. But here he is, waiting for them. Duster sees Hawks and makes a very soft, amused sound in the back of his throat. Knows what Dabi's trying, his endgame, and has given his blessing for him to keep trying. 

Hawks spots them as they come out of the conference room and lifts a hand to greet them, Dabi is about to go down the hall to join him. Doesn't think anything of it when Duster curls three fingers into the collar of his coat. Automatically turns to accept the kiss. Hawks is a job after all and one they're all pretty invested in going well. 

"Good luck, firefly." Gives him a second little peck before he responds, 

"Mmhmm, have fun with your sycophant." Knows he's off to more meetings with Re-Destro about Detnerat. Duster lets go of his coat and goes down the other hall and Dabi turns his attention back to the hero. 

Hawks is staring at him, gobsmacked. Dabi's brows pull together as he moves down the hall to greet him properly, 

"Hey birdy, what's wrong with you?"

Takes the hero a second to shake whatever came over him, blinking, trying to school his features, failing, and then asking, sounding as bewildered as he looks, "You're dating Shigaraki?" 

Has him looking at the bird with equal bewilderment. "What? No, what the fuck gave you that idea?" 

Hawks is really, really looking at him like he's grown a second head. "Uh, the fact he just kissed you? Twice?" 

Dabi snorts, "Oh, no that's just a superstition." Starts to move and the bird follows him. Usually hangs out with him on the roof because the hero clearly likes to perch, he likes to smoke, and it keeps him far away from the things going on inside the base. Explains the tradition as they go, "Made a joke about getting a good luck kiss before a job and it went well, next time I didn't and it went to absolute shit, kind of got in the group's head that it's gotta happen if things are gonna go well." He shrugs. 

Hawks is still looking at him like he's just told him the staples are an aesthetic choice and not a necessity. "Dabi that is fucking insane." 

"Why? Lots of people have weird good luck rituals." 

"Yeah, okay, but having a talisman, or a rabbit's foot, or four-leaf clover is on a whole different level than casually kissing your boss before every mission." He says very carefully. Watches for his reaction and then he adds, more slowly, "Does he kiss anyone else before a mission?"

"What? No." 

Hawks looks very exhausted and Dabi is really not sure why. "You're dumb as shit." Unmistakable fondness in his voice. Definitely a good sign, even if he is being insulted. Means that Hawks has gotten comfortable enough here that he's not trying to be a perfect little spy anymore. That he thinks they're close enough to rib each other. 

"Shut the fuck up, pigeon, Toga told me you flew into a window last time you came by." 

Gets Hawks to chirp indignantly and they go back to their usual chatter. Hawks doesn't even remember to ask about any new information about what they're up to. Definitely another step towards success.

///

Problem is that, afterwards, Dabi can't get the hero's line of questioning out of his head. Finds himself watching Shig. Hasn't kissed him like he had before Deika again. Wonders if that was the exhaustion heightening everything and tearing down barriers. Wonders how he could get his lips against his again that hard and passionate. Probably shouldn't be wondering about that but he is. 

Has let those thoughts sit on the edge of his mind for a few days before he's sitting with Duster in his office working. They've both been quiet for a while and it's gotten pretty late. 

"Hey Duster,"

Shigaraki doesn't look up from whatever report he's reading. "What is it, Dabi?" 

"We're not dating, are we?" 

Duster still doesn't look up but he does snort softly. "If you have to ask, then the answer is 'no', firefly." 

"Okay." And they both go to their work for a few minutes. "Hey,"

"What?"

"Give me a kiss."

Duster finally looks up. "Why?"

"Need some luck, come on."

Shigaraki seems vaguely amused but acquiesces, leaning across his desk and pressing their lips together for just a second before starting to pull away. Dabi catches the lapels of his jacket in his hands and keeps him close. 

"Date me?" 

Duster kisses him again, long and deep, wraps his hand around the back of his neck to keep him close, licks into every inch of his mouth. Leaves him breathless and flushed when he pulls away this time. 

"That a 'yes'?" 

"No, just needed some extra luck. Want to get you in my bed in the next five minutes." Doesn't know if he's ever heard Duster's voice that dry and sarcastic. Tempting to deny him just to get back at him for being so damn smug. Doesn't want to when Shig presses back in for another kiss. 

[lovewithoregrets]

Falling Chapter 5: Dinner for Two

The next scouting expedition was an overall success. Casualties were down significantly as they got used to Erwin’s new long range scouting formation. It was a stroke of genius on his part. This time, they took down more Titans than the Titans took down of them. Erwin felt pleased that his plan was working so well. They had even managed to avoid the majority of potential encounters they came across. The numbers were undeniable. Everyone was in good spirits upon return for once and their return was mildly well received.  

As Levi was putting away his gear, Erwin came up to him. 

“Levi.” Erwin seemed to be in high spirits. “Join me in my quarters for dinner tonight. I want to celebrate together.”  

“Is that allowed?” 

“For officers it is.” He gave a wide smile. “One of the perks of the job.” 

Levi looked around at the other scouts who were busy checking their gear back in. Everyone seemed excited and Levi knew that the Mess Hall would be loud and obnoxious.  

“Sure. It beats eating with these idiots.” Levi shrugged.  

“Good. Meet me there in two hours. I must debrief with Shadis and the other squad leaders.”  

“Good luck with that.” Levi raised his eyebrows pointedly.  

That night was the first of many post-expedition dinners that Levi and Erwin would have. If it was good, then it was a celebration. If it had been bad, it was a consolation. Both enjoyed the quiet calm of each other’s company after both good and bad missions. 

On good days, they would be up into the wee hours of the night, recounting their favorite moments from the expedition, joking, and taking turns reading from one of Erwin’s favorite books.  These evenings were everything to them. Erwin would find himself recalling a story or joke from those nights and grinning to himself for days afterward.  

On the bad days, they could both process their losses and Levi often found himself having to keep Erwin from sinking into a deep depression. Over time, he got to see that the man that he had admired for his strength, was prone to being very hard on himself about the losses. He would often repeat how “selfish” he was. Levi was confused that the same man that had told him not to regret getting his friends mixed up in something that led to their demise would blame himself for the demise of others. One night, after one such failure, Levi came to Erwin’s chambers for dinner to find him sitting in the dark by himself.  

“Erwin?” Levi was very concerned. Erwin stirred but did not respond. Levi found a lamp and matches and placed the light on the table beside Erwin. Still, the man did not move. Levi was tired from the past several days, but he quickly put that aside when he realized how dark Erwin had gone.  

“Erwin, what’s the matter?” Levi asked as he sat across from him.  

Nothing. 

“So, your plan is to just sit here and feel sorry for yourself?” Levi hoped that would get his attention.  

“I don’t know.” Erwin whispered.  

“Talk to me.” Levi said, tired frustration building.  

“I can’t.” Erwin mumbled.  

“You can’t what?”  

“Talk about it.”  

“What can you do?” 

“I don’t know.” Erwin finally began to shake with emotion. Levi took a deep breath. He was barely holding it together himself. 

“You don’t have to talk. In fact, maybe it’s better if you don’t. But we gotta do something to get you back on your feet. So, what are we going to do?”  

“Just leave me be.” Erwin said in a pained voice, burying his face in his hands.  

“No.” Levi said stubbornly.  

Erwin looked up. His face was drawn, and he looked like the ghost of the man that Levi knew. 

“I’m not a good person, Levi.” he said dully. “Don’t waste your time.”  

“Tch, and I am a good person? Fuck off with that shit.”  

“You don’t understand.” 

“Then make me understand, Erwin. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

Silence.  

“Fine. Have it your way. I’m hungry and tired so I’ll eat and then be off.” Levi turned his attention to the food on the table. “Are you going to eat, or do I have to spoon feed you?”  

Erwin reluctantly picked up his fork and began to eat. Neither of them said anything. Levi was getting very worried. Erwin would get depressed, but he had never tried to push Levi away like this before or refused to talk. What does he mean I wouldn’t understand? What the hell is he talking about? Levi brooded. As he finished, he glanced over at Erwin who was still picking absently at his dinner. Fuck. Levi realized he couldn’t just leave Erwin like this. Levi doubted that the man would even go to bed if he left. He sat back and waited for Erwin to finish.  

“I thought you were going to bed.” Erwin said, dully.  

“I was, but I realized that you’re a fucking mess and I need to make sure you get to bed.” Levi stood up. “I’m making us tea. You’re going to have it and then we’ll put you to bed. End of discussion.” He walked out of the room and went to prepare a pot of tea for the two of them.  

Upon his return, Erwin hadn’t moved. He hadn’t made any progress on his dinner either. Levi set the tray with the pot and cups on it beside Erwin before pouring two cups and handing one to him.  

“Drink it.” Levi ordered. Erwin did as he was directed. Surprisingly, it seemed to do some good. He sat up a bit and looked at the cup in his hand. After a few more sips, he finally looked at Levi.  

“I’m sorry.” he said, not making eye contact.  

“About what?”  

“Ruining the evening.” Erwin replied.  

“I’m not mad at you.” Levi reassured him.” I am worried though.”  

“I know. I don’t want you to worry about me.”  

“Then do you mind telling me what this is about?”  

“I don’t want you to think badly of me if I do.” Erwin said meekly.  

“I can’t say that I won’t, but I hope it doesn’t come to that.” Levi replied, waiting for some kind of explanation.  

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”  

“Then tell me already.” 

Erwin nodded. He paused for some time, trying to work up the courage to say what he needed to say. Levi deserved that much. Erwin knew that he was giving up on the last ounces of energy that he still possessed to take care of him tonight.  

 “I’m not fighting for humanity’s victory.” 

“Come again?” Levi nearly spit out his tea.  

“I’m not fighting for humanity’s victory out there when we’re fighting Titans.” Erwin replied.  

“Ok...” 

Erwin then launched into a story about how his father had told him that the king had modified everyone’s memories and how he had been killed for it. Erwin talked about his dream after his dad had died, and about how he joined the military for it. How he had climbed the ranks for it.  

“All these people that died, they died for a lie. I am lying to them and myself. My motivation is completely selfish. And one day, I plan on becoming Commander of the Survey Corps. When I do, I will send even more people to their deaths for my own selfish dream.”  

“So what?” Levi was shocked but not upset.  

“What do you mean ‘so what’? I am getting people killed for something I don’t even believe in.”  

“Erwin, they aren’t putting their lives on the line because of you. They’re doing it because of the Titans. Everyone has been affected by the monsters out there.  At least you give them the ability to make peace with that before they die.” Levi said matter-of-factly.  

“You don’t think I’m the monster?”  

“No. I think you’re an upstanding and genuine person. And I don’t believe that the fate of humanity doesn’t matter to you. I think that it does.” 

Erwin just looked at him, stunned.   

Levi got out of his chair and kneeled in front of Erwin. “In my experience, it’s not as simple as ‘good’ and ‘bad’ people. What is good and bad anyway? You are a good leader, and a good friend. You didn’t trick me with fancy words to dedicate my life to humanity. I know you do care about humanity’s victory because I saw it on your face that day. That said, I learned everything I know from a bunch of criminals and low lives so maybe I’m just talking out of my ass. Either way, I can be ok with the choices I make. Is it for good or evil? I don’t know that I really know. But I know that you care. The people that died on this expedition did so for their own reasons, not because of you.”  

Erwin looked down at Levi, searching his face for any hint of judgement. He found none. He smiled tenderly, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for him.  

“Now, if you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, let’s get you to bed.” Levi stood up and took the teacup from Erwin’s hand. He located Erwin’s wardrobe and pulled out what appeared to be night clothes and set them on the bed. He piled the dishes on the tea tray and took them down to be washed to give Erwin some privacy to change. When he returned, he found Erwin in his undergarments and nothing else.  

“Oh sorry,” Levi went to leave.  

“It’s ok” Erwin called after him. "I sleep like this unless it is very cold. I get hot in the night”  

Levi turned back around. It was difficult not to stare at the taught muscles that were very visible now. Levi tried to keep his eyes on Erwin’s face, but he couldn't hide the flush that crept onto his cheek.  

Taking a deep breath, Levi located a cloth and wiped down the table and chairs with it to make sure all the crumbs were gone. He took Erwin’s discarded clothes and hung them back up in Erwin’s wardrobe. Levi then looked around the room to make sure that everything was where it should be. With a satisfied nod, he brought the lamp from the table to Erwin’s beside. He grabbed a chair and dragged it next to Erwin’s bed. Erwin looked at him, puzzled, as he got into bed. 

“What are you doing?” He questioned.  

“Reading a chapter before we go to bed.” Levi stated, opening the book to where they had left off. “Unless you’d prefer that I didn’t.” 

“No, please, go ahead.” Erwin said with a smile, settling into his pillows.  

Levi read a chapter before he could feel his eyes getting heavy. He glanced over at Erin who seemed to have drifted off. Levi put the book and chair away, before extinguishing the lamp next to Erwin. As he turned to leave, Erwin called after him. 

“Levi.” he said in an adorably sleepy voice. 

“Yeah, Erwin?” Levi turned to look at Erwin one last time.  

“Thank you.” Erwin said simply before rolling over and falling into a deep sleep.  

“Good night” Levi whispered.  

After closing the door, he slid down it and sat in the corridor outside. It had been hard enough to watch his comrades die without Erwin spiraling out like that. It had been a lot of information tonight-especially given how close to the chest Erwin was with personal information. Was Erwin really the man Levi thought that he was? It was difficult to see the man who gave so much of himself to the cause as a selfish monster. Levi knew that Erwin was calculated and that he could be callous at times. But it was the reason he was as successful as he was, in Levi’s mind. Erwin struggled with the fact that he had to be that way. Levi saw it on days like today. And knowing the guilt of his father’s death that he carried with him, it made sense that he would both distance himself from his choices and feel it in a very personal, innate way at the same time. Levi carried his own burdens as well. But he refused to believe that the man that had seen him and believed in him would be an inherently evil person. He wasn’t corrupt like the nobles and politicians. He wanted what was best.  

Levi sighed heavily. He was too tired to deal with this. The one thing that he knew was that regardless of his intentions, Erwin was a person of good, moral character. Nothing lese mattered beside that, Levi told himself. I know who he is. I know I can trust him regardless.  

He couldn’t get the image out of his head of Erwin in such a feeble state. He had seen glimpses before but now he understood it because he felt it himself. They were both people who would rather have others rely on them than be let down by unreliable people. It was a lonely existence, Levi had to admit to himself, but it worked. Now, seeing his own feeling reflected in Erwin, Levi felt a strong need to care for him. Erwin needed him.  

Levi made his way to his barracks. He was worn out and beyond tired. His comrades were fast asleep by the time he arrived. He sat on the edge of his bed for some time, just trying to process the events of the past few days. So much death and loss. It felt unfair. But what was worse was the plaintive look on Erwin’s face afterwards. The death of every scout had lasting repercussions for everyone. Maybe if any of what Erwin’s father believed was true, there was no end in sight for them. That thought was too awful to entertain. No, there would be an end. And then Erwin could finally let go of this burden of guilt that weighed on him so heavily. That would be good. Levi determined then and there that he would help Erwin find the truth, no matter what that truth was.  

[tigerincahoots]

WELL... FUCK. Not only this was a joint operation between the army and navy but also between Americans and Brits. Brits with their very posh accent and probably wanting their four o’clock tea and crumpets or whatever the fuck they eat at those times. Nothing against them, really. Everyone knew that there was always some lingering rivalry between the army, navy and air force Always comparing their dicks to see who could do more and who lived the most dangerous life. As if working with the Navy wasn’t bad enough – they also happened to be British. God save the King and Queen and… whatever adjacent family they had. Kevin could no longer keep track on that sort of bullshit anymore.

NOR HE COULD SLEEP. Being on a ship wasn’t new to him but the joint stitch with the British Navy was. He had just been freshly promoted to Captain and this would be a great opportunity to show everyone what he could do. To show his father what he could do. Nothing less than absolutely perfect would cut it. Everything had to be flawless or he would never hear the end of it. He was the youngest captain in the squad. At twenty-three had had already had rank over others who had joined the army at eighteen – just like he did. All because of who his father was. All because of everything he had to endure while growing up. Was his father even PROUD of him at that stage? Would he tell him he did a good job or just look away without a word because he was doing nothing more than his fucking OBLIGATION?

SO, the cold night air alongside the occasional splash of salt water was just what the doctor ordered. Leaning against the rail, his blue eyes scan the apparent infinity of the dark ocean while his mind tries not to think too much about the series of ops that will be done alongside the British Navy. Shit – if he fucked up in any way – his father would have his fucking ass. He was already viewed as a partial disappointment no matter what he did. This needed to go well. This needed to be perfect. He needed this ops to succeed. He just had to… he just had to… be the very FUCKING best. His father would not tolerate anything less than that. He simply would not.

EYES ROLL IN AN ALMOST TOO CASUAL FASHION because he still can’t fully compute how everything the Brits say can be turned into something posh. He recognizes the voice as well as the man addressing him. Matthew Reid. He was the youngest guy in the British Navy squad…which made the two of them the NEW KIDS compared to everyone else. And Kevin had noticed him alright. He had been checking him out ever since their first debrief and he wasn’t necessarily coy in making the other man know that he had found him… INTERESTING. However, eye-fucking aside – this was probably the first time they had a chance to talk to one another without having other people around. Their first chance to actually have a conversation.

”DON’T FLATTER YOURSELF.” Kevin tries to keep his expression as neutral as ever but he can’t help but chuckle at the unshakable confidence oozing from Matthew’s words. Fucking prick. “What makes you think you’re my favorite Brit? Just because I gave you bedroom eyes throughout the debrief? I am known to have taste.” But that still didn’t make Matthew his favorite Brit. Maybe just… the one he’s more inclined to tolerate compared to the others. His gaze returns to the sea. To the dark waters that conceal fuck knows what underneath. They were a few hours away from their first mission. An amphibian approach to an apparent area controlled by a terrorist cell in European soil. The Brits had every interest in that of course – and the Americans extended their help to build bridges rather than burning them down to ash.

”ARE YOU ANXIOUS ABOUT THIS?” It’s not that he fully cares. Well, maybe a bit. Maybe because Matt is so close to his age that Kevin feels naturally drawn to him instead of the other guys. “A lot is riding on our fucking success, man. How the fuck did we get up here?” Kevin knew why. His father, the MAJOR had more pull and influence amidst the army than most chief officers or politicians. “You watch my back, I watch yours?”

@tigerincahoots gets a plotted starter

It was cold out in the sea. That was something nobody had prepared him for, especially when he was out on deck at night, watching the waves fade into the deep, dark night.

Matthew couldn't sleep, part of him was nervous about the mission that would start so very soon. In just a few hours their ship would reach their destination, and it would likely be all battle from there. Naturally, as such a young cadet, he wanted to make a good impression; especially since they would be working together with the Americans... That didn't happen every day, but it was the perfect opportunity for a rising star to prove his worth to the crown.

He couldn't let that chance go to waste, but he also couldn't ignore a certain someone that seemed to have the same idea as him. The night sky, cold as it might've been, was also beautiful and soothing. Perhaps his peer, Kevin, thought the same.

"Don't give me that look. I'll start believing that you actually hate me," he teased, a little more serious than he intended. The nerves were getting to him.

"Unless you came out here to look at the stars with your favorite brit. Because of course I'm your favorite brit, mate."

[in-tua-deep]

au where five found out about vanya's powers in the apocalypse? Like maybe he found Reggie's book or he saw the eyes of vanya's corpse?

oh man like. that would be interesting to be sure, if Five managed to find Reginald’s book in the apocalypse

(He doesn’t read it at first, not for a few months after he finds it. He opened to the page that detailed Reginald’s experiments with how long Deigo could hold his breath in clinical unfeeling words and has to put it away while he breathed - not too deeply though, he didn’t want to breathe in more ash than necessary)

But he eventually does. He sits Dolores up and rages and vents to her, cursing Reginald’s name with every new sordid detail, every new terrible sin he now knows to hurl at Reginald’s feet. He reads no great loss under his section and he’s too dehydrated to weep but something breaks inside his chest nevertheless

(He’d never thought that dad loved them, not really. He might have hoped, back when he was little but he knew better now. He was thirteen, old enough to know better. But he’d at least thought that dad found them useful. 

Five had tried to hard, trained so much, been so adaptable. Even then he was no great loss.)

Five finds out from Reginald’s book about Ben’s death. Cold words that describe the way his brother died. Reginald seemed to care more about Ben’s death than Five’s presumed death, but that could be becuase Ben’s power was always bigger than Five’s. More violent. More efficient. Of course Ben was a greater loss, Five’s power wasn’t even inherently useful for fighting.

(Klaus’s power wasn’t useful for fighting either. Reading Dad’s dismissive words calling Klaus a failure makes him bristle. Reading about Reginald locking Klaus away in the mausoleum for days make Five want to hurl the book against the wall.)

Finding out about Vanya is - it’s weird. Vanya was always so ordinary. He loved her of course, for fucks sake he was the only one who cared to interact with her half the time. He loves all of his siblings but he has no illusions about how casually cruel they could be to one another.

But he reads about her powers and clenches his fists and wonders what Reginald would have done if Five had stayed, if Five had kept on his path of rebellion. Would Reginald have drugged him, too?

(Reginald had the power to take their powers away. Five wonders what Klaus thought when he found out, if he had cursed and sworn and raged at the man who watched his son suffer and turn to drugs to deal with seeing things no child should ever see. Reginald had the power to help, and he tortured Klaus instead.)

Because - of course Five assumes that they know. He reads Vanya’s books as well when he comes across it, tucking it into his wagon. He wonders when the truth came out, because the rage that drips from those pages is very real. Vanya doesn’t mention her powers in the book of course, but she would have been what, in her 20s when she wrote it? 

Vanya said in her book that she left home at 18, which means she’s had years to get the drugs out of her system and discover what their father had taken from her. Did she think that they knew? That they had kept it from her? Is that why the pages of her book drip with bone deep hurt, making Five’s fingers shake with the ache of them

(Or it could be the hunger, a now constant companion)

Five keeps both books close, even though he wants to vandilize Reginald’s book half the time. It’s strange to see the insight on them and their powers from the perspective of a scientist, odd to see the written results of the torture they went though

(He almost rips the page on the effects of electricity on his warping powers out on principle, but he just ends up curled around Dolores as he trembles involuntarily at the memories)

Five has so few belongings when he is recruited to the Commission, or at least has very few personal ones. He leaves Dolores behind in the apocalypse with a heavy heart but she’s too big to take with him. Too big to hide.

(Five always learned to only take what you can hide, because what you can’t hide will always be used against you.)

He tucks Reginald’s notebook in the waistband on his pants, the hard edges against his back a constant almost reassuring pressure. Vanya’s book gets pushed into one of his deep pockets. The glass eye gets shoved into his sock the same way he used to hide scavenged bills and quarters he would then place beneath the floorboards of his room

(He wonders absently if his money stash was ever found, but it doesn’t really matter now does it?)

He goes through the Commission with the knowledge that he has a bomb hidden away. As much as he keeps the notebook around out of a sense of sentiment he knows he doesn’t want it to fall into the hands of the commission, doesn’t want them to have this dissection of his powers on hand

(he has so little of his siblings left, just the bitter words of Reginald and Vanya both - the irony is that no matter how much Vanya extolled being excluded she had constantly been by Reginald’s side to write down observations, listening to his words, by his side more than any of them. sometimes he reads Vanya’s vicious words and hears the echo of their father in them. It makes sense. He still hates it, just a little bit)

He writes his equations into Vanya’s book instead of Reginald’s. He doesn’t like to read the red book, only opens it to look at the photos included so that he won’t forget what his siblings look like, tries to ignore the words that detail exactly how much force it takes to pop Luther’s bones out of his oh-so-durable joints

He solves them one day, or at least comes close. Closer than he ever had before, and he figures why not? Time for another little experiment. Who knows? Maybe he’ll add this one to dad’s book.

He pushes, and pushes, and then he falls and he’s in a courtyard he hasn’t seen in decades staring at people he hasn’t spoken to in just as long. He looks at them all with wide eyes

(He looks at Allison and hears his father’s clipped tone stating how Allison in improving at overriding survival instincts, he looks at Luther and hears Vanya’s childish voice accusing him of caring more about being a hero than anything else in his life, including his family, he looks at Klaus and sees a face covered in ash and blood with unseeing eyes)

He looks down at himself and sees smaller hands with smoother skin, absent of the burn marks from the variety of fires he’d set in the apocalypse, absent of the crooked knuckles from when he’d crushed two fingers in some rubble trying to get to a can of food, absent of the cracked and brittle nails from malnutrition and food issues

“Shit.” He says, with feeling.

He can feels the press of the glass eye against his leg, the solid weight of Vanya’s book in his pocket, the edges of Reginald’s notebook digging into his skin as he hauls himself off the ground and into a standing position.

They have a family meeting in the kitchen.

Sort of. Five flits about, snagging bread and peanut butter and marshmallow fluff from the cupboard to make himself a sandwich, trying to avoid looking too desperately eager. He hasn’t had his favorite food in so long that the anticipation is actually insane.

“What’s the date?” Five asks, and learns that he doesn’t actually have all that long until the end of the world. But hey, it’s doable. Probably. Unless the reason the world ended was like, political nuclear war or something? But there would probably be survivors of that somewhere, so it was more likely something bigger scale.

(It has to be something he can stop, or this was all for nothing. He refuses to believe he doesn’t have a chance.)

“Cool, so like, the world is ending.” Five says, because why the fuck not? He has all his siblings in one room (except Ben, he has failed Ben, will always have failed Ben because he’s a coward who couldn’t return to a time when Reginald Hargreeves was alive) and he has Reginald and Vanya’s words pressed into his brain, “We have eight-ish days to fix that.”

“Five, what the hell are you talking about?” Luther demands.

Five waves his hand, “Dad sucked, I time-travelled, the end is nigh. I figured even you could grasp that.”

(His eyes ghost over Luther, skittering about the room. He can’t look at Luther’s body without remembering the cruel diagrams pain stakingly inked into the book as Reginald grumbled about failed experiments.)

“You went to the future?” Diego says, voice full of doubt that make his voice harsh. It’s so much deeper than when Five left, no more of the cracks of puberty.

“No shit.” Five says, and he’s so tired. “I was in that hellscape for forty-five years.”

“Forty-five years?” Diego squawks, as though he’s personally offended.

“That would make you... fifty-eight?” Luther’s voice also has doubt in it, and Five can’t really blame him looking at his squishy little barely teenage body.

“Dad was right,” Five manages to get out without gritting his teeth, “Time travel is a crapshoot and sometimes your body does fun and wacky things on you, blah blah blah trees and acorns.”

“Prove you’re from the future!” Klaus demands, eyes bright as he leans across the table, “What’re the lotto numbers, baby brother?”

“I think they’re ‘fuck you the world had already ended by the time I ended up stuck there,’ Klaus.” Five says, mock thoughtfully before tearing off a chunk of his sandwich.

It tastes like ash and peanut butter. Only Five’s genuine trauma regarding food waste and the fact that most things tasted like ash in the apocalypse have him still chewing his food and swallowing.

“Rude.” Klaus says, making a ‘blat’ noise in disappointment.

“Dad’s rich as fuck, wasn’t him kicking the bucket essentially like winning the lottery?” Five points out, and this time it is Luther squawking at him in disapproval.

“Don’t talk about Dad like that!” He demands, and Five has some more uncharitable thoughts about the way Luther’s arms flex just a little unnaturally underneath that big trenchcoat.

“I like this version of Five better.” Klaus declares, looking like Christmas has come early.

“Dad was murdered and you guys don’t even care.” Luther spits out, looking very offended.

“You were murdered and I care very much about that.” Five retaliates, and the entire kitchen goes quiet.

“Can you elaborate a little, Five?” Allison says, ever the diplomat.

(That’s a lie. Allison started more fights than Diego, probably. She just got caught way less often.)

“Well. I mean, I dunno if murdered is the right word considering everyone was dead. You might have just been collateral damage, who knows? Does murder imply intent?”

“Everyone was dead?” Vanya says, voice very quiet.

Five shrugs, then nods, then shrugs again. He doesn’t like thinking about it. “Yeah, but that’s not going to happen this time.”

“I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Luther mutters, and Five valiantly tries to ignore him. 

“Five, are you - are you sure you’re alright?” Vanya’s voice wobbles and she looks like she wants to reach out and hold him or something ridiculous like that. She looks at him with big sad brown eyes, “Dad did say that time travel could... mess with you a little.”

Allison nods and oh, Five does not have time for this bullshit. 

“I have proof.” He says, and he reaches back and pulls out Reginald’s red notebook and slams it onto the table.

“Is that Dad’s - ” Luther cuts himself off, looking at the notebook with wide eyes.

It is very clearly beaten up to hell and back. Ash has stained the edges of the pages grey and there may or may not be a gouge across the front from a near miss with a bullet while working at the commission. It is a book that has clearly been through hell.

Five also dig’s Vanya’s equally beaten up book from his pocket to dump on the table as well, equally stained with ash and barely held together after being read over and over again for decades, including being used as a notebook in the final years.

(Vanya lets out a little gasp, hand flying up to her mouth with the knowledge that at least one of her siblings read her book. Certainly not the one she thought it would be.)

Five reaches into his sock to pull out the glass eye triumphantly, setting it down on his small stack of treasures.

“What the fuck?” Diego is the one to ask.

“If I time travelled from that day in 2002 to right now, how the fuck would I have Vanya’s book?” Five says triumphantly, “It came out in 2015.”

“Why do you have an eye?” Allison sounds slightly horrified.

“It’s the key to figuring out who caused the apocalypse.” Five says, turning it over in his hands, “It’s gotta have something to do with it at least.”

“Why does he have Dad’s notebook?” Luther demands, sounding equally outraged.

“Found it.” Five shrugs, like the little scavenger he is.

(Emphasis on little. His suit still almost fits, and reading the numbers in Reginald’s notebook versus seeing how fucking tall all his siblings got in person is frankly unfair.)

“Oh my god, okay.” Allison says, throwing her hands up in the air like they’re all nuisances. It’s a familiar Allison look, and Five actually feels a little soothed by the memory. “So the world is ending, Five is back from the dead, and our only clue is a goddamn eye?”

“I was never dead.” Five points out, “But basically, yeah.”

“I don’t have time for this, I have to get back to my daughter.” Allison says, shaking her head.

“I mean if you want Claire to live I would think stopping the apocalypse would kind of be a priority.” 

This draw Allison to a halt from where she’d been gathering herself to leave, “You... know her name?”

Five makes the executive decision to not mention the torn out magazine cover featuring his sister and niece that is pressed between some of the pages in Reginald’s journal. “I’d like to meet her one day.”

Just like that, Allison has been won over.

“Do you think it has something to do with whoever murdered Dad?” Luther asks seriously, even if the question makes Diego groan like this is an argument they have had before.

“Who knows?” Five shrugs, “But if we’re splitting into investigation teams, I call Vanya.”

Vanya startles from where she has been sitting quietly, “Me?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” Five nods, “I mean, with Ben gone you’re probably the team’s heaviest hitter.”

“What?” Several voices ring out in confusion.

Five blinks, a little confused himself. Unless - “Wait, did you never train your powers?”

“Five,” Vanya says slowly, like she’s explaining a simple concept to a particularly dim child, “I don’t have powers.”

This was - this was unexpected. Why did he not think of this explanation? It’s just - he has now known about Vanya’s powers for like way longer than he hasn’t. It’s almost second nature to think of Vanya as having powers by now. And she doesn’t know.

“Oh boy.” He says, picking up Reginald’s notebook, “This debriefing may take a bit longer than I first thought. Oh, and at some point we should probably cut the tracker out of my arm as well.”

“The what out of your what?”

Yeah the day doesn’t really get much better from there.

[dream0fschism]

can i pls have HCs of being FWB with Price. how does it start, where do u do it, how often, would anyone catch feelings...

thx bestie as always luf u

yes .

John is very strict and by-the-book when it comes to work, so it would take a long time for him to act on any of his initial thoughts about you.

It would most likely be right after you've all just gotten back from an assignment. With everyone retiring to their rooms as soon as they stepped foot into the barracks, you'd find yourself lucky enough to somehow be the only ones left in the hall.

Your first intimate moment would most likely be after you speak to him about your concerns, maybe you're worried about something you did. He's lovely to you, and it's weird because you've always noticed that he seems to treat you differently compared to his other underlings.

He'd say. "Don't be ridiculous. But you can always talk to me about that stuff, yeah? Anything's bothering you, let me know."

And he'd be a little too close to you as he said that. So close that you wouldn't be able to resist relaxing your posture, subconsciously leaning into his presence as you murmur your gratitude.

When you look up to meet his gaze, his face would be mere inches away from yours as he seemed to wait for his opportunity to press closer and connect your lips.

He'd pull apart from you so fast and apologetic. "I have no fucking clue why I did that. That's... so unbelievably wrong of me. I'm sorry."

Though completely bewildered, you'd be flattered, pleased with his move. Giving him a meek smile, you'd say. "Nothing to be sorry for."

"My room's the furthest from everyone else."

And John would cave, following you to your room only when he was one hundred percent sure that nobody else was around to witness it.

The first time he fucks you, he's careful and slow. He wants to study what you respond the most to, what feels the best for you as he's always been selfless in the bedroom. He finds pleasure in knowing he's pleasuring you.

Every time you had the chance, you'd be fucking each other. Which wasn't as much as you'd both hoped it would be. John would always be too paranoid to take risks, so it would always have to be when he's completely sure nobody is around.

But he'd risk it once or twice, sometimes he liked the thrill of fucking you in one of the utility closets as people paced past, just outside the door.

You'd be the one who catches feelings first, utterly infatuated with every fibre of his being.

You'd forget you were a recruit sometimes, unable to look at him with anything other than an affectionate stare each time he debriefed you and the squad, held a meeting or even just spoke to you anytime you were on duty.

John would catch feelings, too. But he'd be too professional to ever let it show. Perhaps you would never become more than just friends because of that.

[warsamongthestars]

That's okay, everyone's got their thoughts.

But since we're here. Lemme measure my thought process for our audience.

Their introduction in TCWs shows that they can get a "New Mission" in the middle of another mission--hell in the middle of combat itself, with minimum info. They debriefed on the way to their next mission, by Cody, in TCWs TBBarc episode 1.

They're used to little to no intel, or intel on the fly.

Part of why The BBs worked so well in TCWshow, is because as characters, they had to react on minimum information, and the resulting reliance on one another and tight teamwork shows that, yes, they can absolutely act without any info.

Helps show off their capabilities show wise.

If anything, Tarkin probably gave them more information, time, prep and mission specs than they normally get. Real generous honestly. Practically a bargain.

As for Order 66...

I have issues with Episode 1. Mostly because it tries to jam pack action, and have no conversations or communication, no slow downs and no considerations.

Episode 1, to me, sets up everything that's wrong with the TBBshow to begin with. Breaking character dynamics, lack of communication, show-focus on an unrelated original character nobody asked for, the guest-characters overshadowing the main characters, the fact that the plot is everywhere but where the main characters are but still somehow is "important".

And it leads into "Forgetting important plot points, biting the prior series in the ass, killing off characters to ensure the group dynamic is never repaired, adding additional imaginary violence to make things worse than we see, and still putting too much focus on an original character thus making the "main cast" guest-characters in what was supposedly their own show."

Part of how i see things is that I look at stuff from within the show. And I ask myself, "Okay, if I was in this position, what would I do? Why would I do it? Where and how am I, that I may adapt to do what I need or want to do?"

And from the outside, I ask "What can I make 'myself' do, that I may prove to myself that this is what I intend or not intend? What scene am I in, that I may make these choices?"

( One writes a character knowing that they are the Audience to that character. Then look at that character, as the Audience, and gauge if it works. We follow the line of story we make, so that we know what we're tell is what we want to tell and what we want to Hear being told. )

How would the Bad Batch work Order 66, by themselves?

We don't know, because the TBBshow did not actually introduce the Bad Batch. It gave a few seconds of character names, one battle in 3 minutes, and that's it. We got more introduction of Kanan, General Billaba and Commander Grey, than we got out of the BBs.

We don't know what they would do afterwards, because the Show wouldn't Let Them.

How did I tell this?

Easy. When your closest brother, your comrade in arms, the dude who steps up when you falter to back you up, starts randomly firing on children and droning on about Orders, that's a point where you take him to the side, and you start asking him, in depth, "What the Fuck are you Doing?" And you don't leave, until you know what the Answer is. And being the super special awesome squad that needs no orders or command, you would ignore everyone in order to get that answer--because he is your closest squad mate, and he matters more than orders and strangers and "regs".

And the show didn't do that. It had all the time in the world to do that, and it didn't. Then Omega showed up, and they still didn't.

And the moment it didn't do that, it failed entirely in my book. That breaks the core operations of the Bad Batch from TCWs.

How would the BBs handle Order 66? I don't know, I'd have to make up an answer based on what little I can tell about them. We all know the chips work--so perhaps they would fall under, and become the Empire's best Super Special Awesome Team... maybe as an antagonist to Captain Rex.

There's several reasons I separate TBB and TCWs Bad Batch. Quite a few of them are micro, cos I'm analytical as hell and the little details set me off.

How bout two big things? Two, in your face, things.

First one isn't so bad. "There's two different shows by two different writing and two different broadcasters, they're going to have obvious canonical differences based on the paperwork and contracts alone, but because it still irrevocably alters the story and characters, no matter where that alteration came from, it is still two different canons that aren't going to fit nicely if at all."

Okay maybe it is complicated, but that's real world shit for you. Clone Wars was a Cartoon Network production, the recent stuff has been Disney--and frankly, Cartoon Network has better quality and taste (HELL YEAH STEVEN UNIVERSE!)

THe second one goes into the show. Some proper in-story analysis, to tell you were the break is at.

The Bad Batch arrived on Anaxes after dealing with an Insurrection on Yalbec Prime. They brag about it, they talk about it, its important to their introduction. Its important enough that a lot of fanfics and fanstuff talk about how it happened.

It was an insurrection. Insurrections are defined as "An uprising against an authority or government".

And they didn't describe just any group conducting an insurrection--they describe Yalbecs, so the inhabitants of Yalbec Prime. And then they describing killing the Queen of the Yalbecs, so the primary ruler of Yalbec Prime, planet of Yalbecs. Of which Tech comes in to say, that hte stinger of the queen is a Delicacy on some planets.

... Do you know how nasty of a picture that paints?

Based only on the simplest information given and what we know; because they're Republic Troopers--we can assume that Yalbec Prime was a Republic world. (We weren't told otherwise, so the assumption must be the most correct answer at this time.)

So, the Yalbecs were rebelling. (Because why would they attack the inhabitants unless they were the insurrection being put down?)

Using this minimum information.

THe Yalbecs and their queen, were rebelling against Republic Authority (we don't know if it was in favor of the Seppratists, it could be that they wanted Neutrality too).

If we can assume the reason, its probably because folks eat their damn Queen (a very good reason to rebel if you rely on a ant or bee like hierarchy and the queen is also your mother--given the implications that yalbecs are insectoids and that there were queen pheromones).

The Bad Batch are called in to put down the Insurrection, which we can assume they did, based on the fact that they're alive and intact.

... So.

The TBB Show wants to tell me that... The Bad Batch don't want to follow orders to eliminate insurrectionists and that's why they left the Empire?

Based on the above, they absolutely would follow those orders. Enthusiastically, with bragging rights.

One could make the argument that ECho set them straight, and that'd be a good story and start. TBBshow didn't do that, and regulated Echo to the bitching corner and then just kicked him out entirely--so you might have that idea, but the Show certainly didn't.

The darker argument is that the TBB would put down a society of insectoids, but not humanoids--and that... leaves a rather nasty set of implications, given the multi-sentient species of the Galaxy. I'd love to think that's not the case, but if TBBshow insists it, then we have to take it as the case for the Batch on the TBBshow.

When you're writing, what you show or say to or for the audience will be taken as fact by the audience for the show played. While we can give interpretation and imagination for things you don't say, it will always come down to what you've Shown and what've you Told, and what the conflict between the two is.

If you don't show it, or don't talk about it, and don't leave room for interpretation, then it didn't happen.

( One can argue that the TBB show does leave room... Via the holes its poked in itself. I've never seen so many pockets filled with absolutely nothing. )

And when you show contradiction without just cause, you risk breaking the flow of the story, and thus breaking the suspension of disbelief... And that's when the Audience enmass starts leaving and cursing.

While you cannot predict who's suspension is broken at any given time, what you can control is the flow of the story and its beats.

What is said and what is shown, are important, because Theatre / TV show stories are entirely made by what is Said and what is Shown.

Lastly, as for "What is canon".

... The TBB Show has different writers to the Clone Wars, which in turn had different writers from the Star Wars Prequel Films, which in turn had different writers for the Original Star Wars.

Of course none of it but the OG is canon.

Its all just an Argument about what enhances the story of your personal Canon and who is telling the story.

[zbeez-outlet]

Hi! I have a request for Jean if you’re up for it. Reader is captured by Marley officers and tortured for answers and when her comrades find her she’s in a pretty bad state and can barely move and she flinches away from everyone, but when Jean tries to touch her she feels safe so he carries her to safety and is trying to be strong for her even though he’s scared and angry because of what they did do her. You can choose if they’re dating at the time or haven’t admitted their feelings yet so maybe that’s when he tells her how he truly feels because he’s scared if losing her. Some angst and fluff :)) hope you like the idea🥰

Flinch

Jean x FemReader

Canon Universe

Pre-Relationship

Concept: See request above!

Summary: It felt like one second you were standing right next to him and the next, just gone. Vanished. Taken. Every moment it takes to track you down is an eternity of uncertainty. Are you safe? Are they hurting you? Are you even alive? Jean doesn't know what to think or how to feel. He's desperate, he's angry, and he's so fucking scared it's hard to breathe. Regret seeps into his nerves because he never got to tell you how he felt, how he feels. He never imagined that finding you would be more of a nightmare than the agony of your disappearance.

Warnings: Angst, allusions to torture, graphic descriptions of injury, panic, blood, violent outbursts, cursing, PTSD, aftermath of torture (If I missed anything, please let me know)

A/N: I was so excited to be working with a new character. I love Levi with all my heart, obviously, but it's been really fun and interesting getting to write with a different character profile. Hope you like it! Check out my profile for more details about the kinds of requests I take and keep an eye out for my inbox to reopen.

Every time Jean lets his mind linger on the day you disappeared from his side, the memory of it warps so absurdly he isn't sure what really happened anymore.

Sometimes all he can imagine is your form, sweet and smiling and warm next to him as the group steps discretely through the bustling streets of Marley as if they belonged there, just popping out of existence from one blink to another. Gone, vanished, like some all powerful being took an eraser and rubbed you from this reality, the only proof you were ever breathing beside him a few rubber shavings on the ground and the horror pulsing in his chest that you're just not there anymore.

Other times, it's far more dramatic. It's you stopping to tie the loose laces on your boot - the ones he always told you to double knot so you wouldn't trip, but you never listened. It's you getting distracted by a colorful vender, separating from the squad in the process, all smiles and innocence and new. It's you getting pulled aside by an officer for a 'random' blood test. It's you screaming and kicking and fighting as you're dragged away into the unforgiving alleyways of Marley.

It's turning around when he realizes your fingers are no longer brushing against his own and your laugh isn't mixing with Sasha's obnoxious squawking and panic building in his throat when you've just faded to nothingness without him noticing.

Jean doesn't remember how it happened exactly, just that it did, and you were taken by the enemy from right under his nose.

Finding you feels impossible. It takes days instead of the few minutes he'd been hoping for, as if he could have spotted you between lit up carts and bustling pedestrians and scold you for wandering off. Instead you're missing for nearly a week, every second of which grates on any hope Jean tries to cling to.

Commander Hange tracks down a possible location, some unassuming warehouse rumored to be a holding station for Eldian prisoners undergoing interrogation.

"We know she's being held for questioning," Hange declares during the debrief on your rescue mission. They hesitate before clarifying, "Her body would have already turned up or she would have been publicly executed as an example if they weren't sure she knew something."

Jean swallows the bile rising in his throat, unsure how to be grateful for this wayward assumption. It tracks, it makes sense, but is it better?

"What if she's told them about us?" Connie asks, wringing his hands nervously under the weight of Jean's glare and bared teeth.

"She wouldn't!"

"She hasn't," Armin confirms with a definitive nod, a painfully hard set to his jaw that has Jean's nerves on edge. "If she had, we'd have been apprehended and taken into custody already. I just...whatever they're doing to get answers out of her isn't working. How far do you think they'll go for what they want?"

Thinking of Pastor Nick, of all of the people the Military Police 'questioned' back on Paradis Island, Jean has to clench his fists to hide the trembling in his fingers. "Too far," is all he can choke out, tears threatening the corners of his eyes.

Everyone is strangely quiet after that, an uneasy amount of fear hovering between them all like fog.

Captain Levi eventually comes up with an infiltration plan that Jean has to practically beg to be a part of, something he's not above doing when your safety is on the line. The team consists of Levi as the obvious apparent leader, Mikasa as their best fighter, Armin for his more extensive medical knowledge - the thought of needing that knowledge causes a fresh wave of agony and anxiety in his chest - and Jean because staying behind simply isn't an option for him.

Connie and Sasha protest, wanting to go along to save you, but they're quickly shot down. Too many people on this mission is an unnecessary risk, according to Levi anyway, and they're already stretched pretty thin with the addition of Jean.

Eren is strangely silent throughout the entire debrief, like he doesn't even care that you've been taken, undergoing any number of tortures just to protect him. It has anger bristling under Jean's skin, the bastard always taking their priority of his titan shifting ass for granted, but Jean's not about to give Captain Levi a reason to hold him back from this mission for his unruly temper.

"Good luck you four." Hange salutes each of them, sharp eyes lingering on Jean in a way that has his heart racing. They smile encouragingly. "Bring her home."

Between the efficient efforts of Levi and Mikasa, getting in quietly is actually pretty easy. There aren't very many guards, and the one's who are patrolling are swiftly knocked unconscious without causing any scenes. The element of surprise is their greatest weapon at the moment, and they have to ensure no one has time to call for backup or they're screwed.

Jean adjusts the scarf around his face, making sure to cover as much as possible while keeping his field of vision clear. It was actually Sasha's idea to cover up, something dramatic about camouflage and anonymity in enemy territory. It made sense at the time, and Jean's not about to complain about keeping their identities hidden, but the sweat sticking to his lip and building at the base of his neck is more bothersome than he thought it'd be.

He and Armin are quick to follow once they spot the hand signal from the Captain that all is clear, heart beating in his throat the closer they are to finding you.

"Check every room, call if you find her. If something is locked, let me know," Captain Levi orders, dangling a set of keys he had swiped from a guard and already heading to the nearest door. The main floor of the warehouse is actually fairly spacious with only a few tucked away rooms - all weirdly unlocked and empty.

Jean grits his teeth, knowing that at the very least something or someone has to be here that can give them more information, otherwise what's even the point of the guards they'd taken down outside?

"Captain!" Armin whisper-yells causing Jean's head to jerk towards him despite not being the one he called for. The blonde's gesturing to a hefty-looking wooden door at the back of the warehouse clearly meant to be hidden in shadow, going practically unnoticed. "It's pad-locked."

It takes three tries for the Captain to find the key to unlock the door, Jean rocking on his heals all the while as anticipation fizzles through his veins. The door leads to the most stereotypically sinister basement Jean would roll his eyes at if he weren't so scared of what they'll find down there, all dark stone and damp draft and strange echoes. The sound of their combined footsteps bounces off the walls like drums, and the cold seeps into Jean's skin like a vice, trying to lock his joints.

There's a long hallway of doors at the base of the stairs, metal instead of wood and with small sliding hatches to view inside.

"Mikasa and I will start at the back. You two take the front." Levi motions everyone to move forward, marching towards the back of the corridor with Mikasa hot on his heals.

Every hatch that Jean slides has his breath catching in his throat, each time expecting to find your still and rotting body beyond the metal. But every time, they're empty. He tries not to linger on the copper smears of something along the walls and floor or the metal shackles laying ominously on the stone ground.

A gasp from Mikasa towards the back of the hallway has Jean nearly choking on air, already skidding towards her when she stumbles back from the hatch she opened, hand covering her mouth and eyes wide in horror. He's never seen her so stunned, facade broken and tears pooling in her eyes, at least not when Eren isn't involved. He watches as she scrambles for the keys in Levi's possession, testing key after key to get into the cell.

"It - it's her...she - she..." Mikasa trails off, uncharacteristic stammer stalling in her throat. Her hands are shaking, and the sight has Jean frozen in his boots.

Captain Levi gently plucks the keys from Mikasa's trembling fingers, shuffling through them much more quickly, with eyes focused and body sharp. Armin is shaking at Jean's side, fingers white-knuckling his sleeves and eyes wide with the same fear Jean can feel pulling at his chest.

Levi gets the cell door open, quickly going in with Mikasa just behind. Jean's feet are stuck, lungs shriveling behind his ribs and flashes of the you that he...the you that he loves flying behind his eyes.

Bright caring smile and shining eyes in a world that doesn't deserve your kindness, your beauty, your compassion. Flower crowns and blushing cheeks and jumping in puddles like innocent little kids. You were the first one to make him smile again after losing Marco. You've always kept that innocence despite the terror and pain that has ravaged your lives thus far, despite all you've lost, despite the darkness constantly creeping in.

He's terrified that your light may have gone out, that the parts of you that have kept him hopeful may be gone.

Armin rushes into the cell when crying echoes off the stone walls following a smacking noise, crying that's somehow so familiar and so foreign. Jean's heart cracks at the sound, relief at hearing your voice mixing nauseatingly with the devastation of your pain.

"No no no no no," your voice chants on the curve of a sob. "I don't know anything, I don't know anything. Stop, stop, please stop." The words slur and tremble like you're drunk - but he's seen you drunk, cheeks rosy, pupils blown wide, giggles bubbling between your smiling lips. Nothing about this matches the warm tipsy way you trip over your words after a few too many sips.

Jean has never felt like a bigger coward than this moment, feet planted to the ground and teetering on the edge of a tragedy he's not sure he can handle.

He can hear Armin whispering your name. "C'mon, you know us. It's Armin, you know I'd never hurt you. We're here to help. Please, please just take a few deep breaths."

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." you continue, words getting louder and louder until you're almost screaming, desperate wet cries that pulse in the air with fear and anguish and raw pain.

Jean swallows a deep shaky breath and takes that final step over the edge. You need him, more than ever, you need him to be better than the coward that's always been underneath the barbed comments and confident quips. You need him to be the light now, and he'll do his very best to pull you from the cold and the dark.

But even with that resolve, he's not prepared for the sight of you. Or the smell that greets him. Like piss and rot and blood, a metallic decay that singes his nostrils. There's a puddle in the far corner that has his gag reflex bobbing.

He spots your huddled body clenched like a fist on the ground, Armin kneeling by you as he tries to calm your devastating cries. Mikasa and Levi stand nearby, the latter discreetly holding his wrist to his nose - at first Jean feels a snarl pulling at his lip because who gives a shit about the smell when you're in literal agony at their feet, but then he spots the blood spotting the Captain's sleeve. Jean remembers the smacking sound, something like a slap before the resounding echo of your sobs overwhelmed his every thought.

You must have lashed out, unable to discern them from your captors and torturers.

Already he wants to scream because you've been stripped down to your underclothes, shackles keeping your bloody wrists locked to the ground - fingers similarly soaked in red in a way that he doesn't even have to look to know your fingernails are gone. Your hair has been sheered unevenly close to your scalp, patches of blood and matted knots pulling at what's left of your hair. You seem smaller than Jean remembers, thin around the ribs like those Marleyan bastards haven't even bothered to feed you the last week - it wouldn't surprise him, but it does make the stew they'd all had earlier churn guiltily in his stomach. Skin ashen and pulled taunt over your jutting joints, you're slicked with sweat and blood. You're blotched with deep-set bruises, heavy in their purple color and swelling along your limps. Lacerations too shredded to be from a knife litter your body, and suddenly Jean is fighting the image of a whip lashing at your scared trembling figure.

You're flinching away from Armin's gentle hands, arms up and crossed protectively in front of your face as you babble and plead. Somehow coiling tighter, as if the smaller the are the less likely your are to be hurt again.

Jean pulls down the scarf covering his face, taking a knee next to Armin and laying a heavy hand on his shoulder to pull him back. He whispers your name, subtly proud of how steady his voice comes out, and your shaking immediately stills.

Your arms lower, bulging paranoid eyes locking onto his own. There's blood at the corner of your mouth that has him wondering about the state of your teeth when they ran out of nails to pull. "J-Jean?"

"Hey sweetheart," he actually manages a small smile, taking the risk of reaching for your bruise stained cheek. His fingers caress your skin, still warm despite the chill of the cell. "We're here to bring you home."

You lean into his hand, irises shining with a surprising amount of clarity. "Home?"

"Yeah, home. Connie and Sasha miss you," he adds, silently reaching behind him for the keys still in Levi's possession. He tests several on the shackles on your wrist, hoping the keys for the chains aren't hidden somewhere else.

"Just Connie and Sasha?"

Jean pauses, gaze meeting yours with a heartbreaking seriousness. "No, no not just them." The lock clicks and the shackles clatter to the ground.

"I did - didn't tell them anything, I didn't I promise," you stammer, hands clawing at his forearms as you crawl into his lap. Jean is quick to hold you close, palm cradling your shaved head close to his chest, elation at having you in his arms again something precious.

"I know you didn't," Jean whispers, swallowing the urge to cry stinging at the base of his throat and behind his eyes.

"Jean," Captain Levi calls from behind him, a few speckles of blood dripping from his bruising nose. "We need to go."

Nodding, Jean quickly removes his coat and wraps the thick fabric around your body. "This might hurt, just bear with me, okay?" He tucks his arms around your shoulders and beneath your knees, nudging your head so it rests against his beating heart. When he stands, you groan into his chest through his repeated apologies. He looks to his team, trying not to dwell on the lingering looks they're each sending him. "Let's go."

He walks as steady as possible, keeping his footsteps slow and deliberate so you don't jostle in his arms. The last thing he wants is to be the reason you hurt even more.

Your voice tickles his ear, breathy and grateful and airy with the hope he knows so well from you. "I knew you'd come for me."

"Always," Jean's quick to say, arms tightening around your body. You've relaxed from the tenseness of your fear, exhaustion smoothing across your face. "This time...this time I'll protect you." Those three special words swell in his throat, aching to dance between his lips in the wake of relief and terror. Instead, he watches as you finally succumb to the sleep weighing down your eyelids.

Maybe next time.

"I missed you." Jean presses his lips to your forehead, a lone tear dripping off the curve of his chin.