#you only need to know the division commanders and their rank

[ramp-it-up]

Call Me Captain When I...

Summary: You were Steve's subordinate, but you'd met as friends. And Steve needs your help with something.

Pairing: Early CATWS era Captain Steve Rogers x SHEILD Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. S MUT! Early CATWS Steve, talk of politics, flashbacks, groping while asleep, Not-so Inexpereinced-ish Steve, Dom Steve, Friends to lovers, angst, mutual pining, fluff, Captain and Sir kink, pulling rank, uniform kink, talking in sleep, masturbation, sex toy, voyeurism, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, oral s ex (m receiving), raw p in v, intimations of female receiving oral.

A/N: This was supposed to be the conclusion to Greatest, but this popped in my head. This is set very soon after he first meets Sam and is still getting adjusted to the world. Also, I am not in the military and know nothing really of proper uniform or officer/subordinate address or etiquette. This is pure fantasy. Hope you like it. HBD Steve! 😁

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

-----

You woke up with a start, mouth dry, burning hot and seriously needing to pee. 

You weren’t sick; the cause of your discomfort was the 240 pound super soldier next to you. You looked over to see Steve Rogers’ sleeping face six inches away from yours on the chaise lounge of your sofa, the blue glow from your smart tv’s home screen bathing his face in eerie light. 

You allowed yourself two minutes to admire the man you had come to have a huge problematic crush on in such a short time.

You smiled to think of the first time you saw him in person as he wandered into the Information Technology Division of S.H.I.E.L.D., which you were running. 

------

He wasn’t in uniform, but who he was and his rank was unmistakable. Everyone rose when he entered. You watched him investigate the division by wandering around and looking at soldier’s workstation screens, reading files on desks, which was fine. The venerated Captain Steve Rogers had just about as high a clearance as anyone in the room.

You recognized the look on his face, a mixture of awe and earnestness, and something happened with your heart.

You couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to wake up, 70 years out of your own time. You watched his face, noting the anxiety, but mirroring his slight smile when he saw the book stacks at the rear of the room. Something like relief overtook his features. He scanned the room, calculating that the stacks went quite a way back into the facility, then he sized up the size of the troops in the division. 

You commanded 24 soldiers who helped you to oversee a good amount of basic historical, and quite a lot of classified information for SHIELD. You were too busy watching Steve’s face when his eyes found yours, and were caught off guard when he addressed you although you should not have been.

“Looks like you have quite the mission, Lieutenant.”

You snapped to attention and responded. 

“Yes, Sir. Information is key for the success of SHIELD, and we take pride in our work.”

“At ease.” 

Captain Rogers stood before you as you adjusted to parade rest. 

“I hear you do great work, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

There was an awkward silence.

“I need some help.”

“Sir?”

Steve huffed, annoyed at your formality. He looked around to see your entire division staring.

“Can we go into your office?”

“Of course, Sir.”

Once the door was closed, Steve had to address this first point, even though his body thrilled when you called him ‘Sir.’”

“You don’t need to be so formal, you know. You and I are friends, aren’t we?”

At the dulcet tone in his voice, you looked him in the eye, although you remained at parade rest. You knew that your troops were looking through your window. Steve noticed that your blinds were open and went to close them, which irritated you. That would only arouse suspicion.

Steve quickly admired your body in your work greens, eyes scanning from your boots up your pants, which were tailored very well out of necessity, to your shirt as he marveled how your buttons stayed closed. He chuckled as he had the same problem himself.

Your eyes were on him as his made their way to your face.

“You said you needed something, Captain?”

He almost groaned at that address. He needed you, spread out on his bed, calling him Captain and begging him to fuck you. But he had to play it cool. 

“I have this problem. And only you can help me with it.”

Steve had no idea how much that sounded like a line, so he barrelled ahead. He needed you, and he knew it from the moment he saw you at Sam’s house party the night before. The fact that you introduced yourself as a librarian endeared you to him, and the kind way that you talked to him all night about historical events of the 20th and 21st century cemented your place in his heart. He even adopted Sam’s nickname for you, Libby the librarian.

“I need a tutor.”

He’d piqued your interest.

“Sir?”

This time his groan was audible. That cute little head tilt was driving him crazy. And your braids up in that neat braid bun. You were wound tight at work.He wanted to have them down, waving along your ass and hypnotizing like they were last night. He wanted to wrap them around his hand as he….

You were going to be the death of him. He cleared his throat.

“I need someone to bring me up to speed. Someone who can help me understand this brave new world we have here.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes just scanned his face. He continued talking to fill the void.

“I mean, I wake up, and everything is different, society, technology, women, hell, even the president…”

“You never dreamed we’d have a black president, did you?”

You were toe to toe with him now, an equal in the field of knowledge, superior to him in history and culture. Steve liked this feeling. He really needed you.

“Honestly. No. I’ve missed the history that would lead me there. That’s why I need you.”

You bristled slightly, straightening your posture again and looking at the wall. Steve caught the vibe.

“This is not a command. I’m coming to you as a new friend that I thought we both gained last night. I want help. I’m asking you. Not as my subordinate, but as a friend. Please, Libby.”

Steve’s earnest plea melted you on the inside. You gave up trying to keep him at arm's length. You knew it was not appropriate what you did last night in your bedroom as you thought of the conversation with him last night. His voice, his eyes, those lips. And you did not overlook that body beneath his button up shirt and khakis. 

But he’d made it clear that you were friends and you would rock with that. Besides, you wanted to help America’s number one soldier see all sides of what he was fighting for. 

He needed to see the truth.

“Alright. One evening a week. Thursdays good for you?”

You walked around your desk and grabbed a post it note and started writing.

Steve was elated and nodded until you looked up at him and he responded verbally.

“Yes.”

He kind of liked you in control. It might be that much more pleasureable to subdue you. He shook his head, surprised at his own thoughts.

“Great.” 

You tore off a note and handed it to him.

“Order these books. Have one read, doesn’t matter which, by this Thursday and meet me at Pete’s Deli at 5:30.”

“Thank you.”

You smiled at him and Steve thought he was going to kneel at your feet.

“Don’t thank me yet until you’ve survived one of my very serious debates.”

“Sounds grueling.”

“You have no idea.”

—---

Over the last four months, you and Steve debated, argued, went through periods of needing space from each other, and late nights texting about tons of topics and cultural events during “the ice years,” as Steve called them. It was almost like a marriage.

You’d graduated from books, to Ted Talks, to movies, to videos on tons of topics and Steve was developing quite the knowledge base. 

You were proud of him, he digested information, reasoned it out, and didn’t become a carbon copy of you, but a well informed, better Steve Rogers. 

And fuck all, that made him even hotter.

Now, you were moving to the popular culture portion of your tutoring, and the night before you’d started the 1980’s/Spike Lee movie portion of your lessons. 

You’d binged She’s Gotta Have It, School Daze, and fell asleep halfway through Do The Right Thing. Now you were trapped between the arm of your couch and a 240 lb heat generator super strong super soldier.

You inched out from under Steve’s thick thigh, which was thrown over your legs, and was about to be able to escape when he turned over, his hand grabbing your boob and his fingers skillfully finding your thickened nub.

“Thank God for the right nipple. Thank God for the left nipple…”

You froze, but then remembered that was a line from the movie, and continued trying to escape without waking Steve up. He couldn’t be held responsible for his subconscious.

“Libby, wanna suck your nipples…please..”

You froze again. Well this was a development. Steve’s subconscious was trying to slide.

“Call me Captain when I suck your nipples. Sir when you suck me off…”

You managed to get up and you stood there, watching Steve, who was snoring now, and had no idea what he’d just said. You shook your head at the fact that he hadn’t learned the power of grey sweat pants.

In a daze, you walked to the bathroom and somehow ended up in the shower before you realized you had a guest. You were trying to process, and it was just a coincidence that your Leelo was in there. You’d be able to slake your hunger and clean up before he awoke.

Steve woke up, confused for a minute, and noticed that it was 4 am. 

He was on your couch with a Giant boner, and someone was in the shower. He stood up, stretched and went to your kitchen for a bottle of water when he heard you moan. 

Wanting to make sure that you were okay, Steve went to your slightly open bathroom door and got an earful.

“Ohhhh. Fuck, Captain, yessssss.”

Steve’s heart began to beat as he took a peek in at you through the clear glass of your shower, back against the wall as you held a sex toy to your pussy. The sight made him forget to breahe. The way you convulsed made his dick jump in his sweats. He rubbed himself to try and calm down, but your voice making those pretty sounds made him grab himself and chase friction against his clothes.

“Yes, Sir… would love to…suck… you…. offfff….fuck, Steve….!”

The sound of his name as you came made him feral and he hit his hand against the door frame. 

You stopped what you were doing as you looked toward the door. Steve used his best stealth tactics to go back to the couch, and that’s where he was when you came out of the bathroom in your robe.

“How much did you hear? Did you see anything?”

The way he was looking at you told you everything.

“I’m sorry, Steve. You were talking in your sleep, because of the movies. I got heated at what you said. Needed to relieve some tension. I understand if you want to stop meeting up. I’ve not been professional. Or a friend.”

“What did I say?”

“Hunh?”

Steve stood up and walked toward you. His voice was so deep. 

“What did I say when I was asleep?”

You gulped, but then you just said it.

“You said that you wanted to… suck my nipples and you said, ‘call me Captain when I suck your nipples. Sir when you suck me off…’”

Steve was closer now. 

“That wasn’t because of the movies.”

His hand was above you on the wall and you were staring up into his impossible blue eyes, which seemed to be shining in the dim light.

“It’s what I want to happen.”

“S-steve?”

Steve’s hand went to your hair, loosening the bun that you’d made for the shower.

“But I figured you only wanted to be friends, y’know?

“We are friends. That’s what you established when you came to my office…”

Steve fisted your braids in his hand and drew your head toward his. 

“I needed your help, true. But I was trying to get close to you without knowing how to make my move. Didn’t think you wanted me too, but what I just saw you doing in that bathroom. What I heard you saying, Libby…”

He stopped, his lips mere centimeters from yours.

“Christ, do you know how that ruined me?”

You whimpered in your throat and closed the distance between you.

If a supersoldier could slam someone against the wall gently, that is what Steve Rogers did to you as his lips and tongue explored yours. Your hands found his hair and tugged as he pulled yours, and your body pressed against his.

Steve pressed soft kisses all along your face. When he finally reached your lips, he teased you, barely touching them, causing you to whimper. He deepened the kiss, his tongue licking at yours, daring it to follow. Your mind was completely blown, and when you separated for air, Steve asked a question.

“So. Can you call me Captain when I suck your nipples? Sir when you suck me off?”

Your eyes met his and you made a silent agreement.

“Oh Yes, Sir.”

“Hmmmmmm.” 

Steve closed his eyes and groaned.

“Good girl. Correct answer.”

Steve kissed you again and this time his hands explored your body too. Your skin was moist and hot from the shower, and he ignited it even more. You writhed against him, brushing your nipples against his chest, causing them to swell and thicken. He groaned into your mouth, and it sent a pool of desire straight to your core. His hard cock pressed into your thigh insistently, and you reached into his sweats to wrap your hand around the rigid length of it.

“Jesus….” 

Steve’s ragged breath huffed into your face as his hand found your breasts and weighed them, rolling each of your nipples between his thumbs. You continued to stroke him, causing his hips to jerk up into your palm, beads of moisture helping to lubricate your hand as you stroked him as best you could, struggling to grip his girth. 

“Is this gonna fit in my mouth? In my pussy?”

Steve growled and kissed you again, his fingers parting your robe and dipping between your thighs. You shivered as first, one impossibly long thick finger slipped inside your slick heat, then two.

“We’ll make it work. You are so wet. So ready. And that mouth. If I can just experience you trying, I’d struggle not to blow my load, Libby. M’ struggling right now with just your hand.” 

“Let’s go to my bed.”

“Give me one now.”

“But-”

“What did I just say Lieutenant? Who is in command?”

Lust rocked your body at Steve pulling rank. You whimpered again.

“You are, Captain.”

“That’s right. Now stay here, and take this like the soldier you are.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Steve rewarded you with a kiss and then trailed more down your neck, moving south. He paused, his breath warming the skin over one of your swollen peaks. You were in agony.

“Captain, please.” 

“Please what?” 

“Please let me feel your lips.”

“As you wish.” 

You writhed as he kissed everywhere except where you wanted him. You tugged on his hair, which did nothing to dissuade him from his mission of driving you crazy. 

“I love that you are so desperate for me, Lib. So damn attractive.”

He hovered over your nipple as he teased it with the hot air from his mouth, looking up at you with those blue, blue eyes.

“You love this, don’t you?”

“Yes, Captain!”

Steve added his thumb to the mix of his fingers pumping in and out of you. He kept the pace consistent, no matter how much you tried to move against his fingers. Chuckling, he finally settled his lips around your nipple and hallowed his cheeks as he drew you into his mouth, causing your pussy to shudder to gush over his fingers as you came.

“C-captain!”

“Yes, Doll?” 

“N-need you to fuck me. Please.” 

“Who’s in command?” 

He grazed your nipple with his teeth. 

“You, Captain, I—” 

Steve withdrew his fingers from your cunt.

“Can you call me Sir first?”

You looked into his eyes and suddenly you wanted nothing more. You dropped to your knees in your living room, not caring how the hardwood felt on your knees. Relishing it, even.

Steve pushed your robe off your shoulders and it pooled around you as you watched him take off his t-shirt and pull down his sweats and boxers. You practically drooled at the sight of the thick tan staff in front of your face.

You watched Steve’s thick fingers grab the base of himself and squeeze and you looked up to see him clenching his jaw.

“You’ are trying to make me blow my load on your face with those eyes of yours, Lieutenant. Maybe I should ask you again. Who is in charge here?” 

“You Sir. Let me taste you, please?”

You were topping him with a request, but Steve let it slide as his cock slid past your lips and tongue.

“So fucking hot. Isn’t that what the kids say?”

Steve took your head in his hands as you put your hands behind your back and let him fuck your face. You hummed an acknowledgement as Steve groaned above you. Your pussy was sopping wet at this point.

Steve let go of your head and braced himself against the wall as he warned you through clenched teeth.

“Do you want this? Because… it….fuck… here it comes….”

You prepared yourself and swallowed quite a lot of Steve’s cum, which tasted surprisingly good. You moaned your approval as he gave you his spend.

He grasped himself again and pulled his still hard cock out of your mouth as you grinned up at him. 

“I could do that all day, Doll." He licked his lips as he looked down at you.

"Where is your bedroom again?”

You smiled and took his hand as he helped you to stand, and he followed you to your bedroom, nodding his head toward your California king.

“Get on the bed.”

Steve watched as you obeyed and stroked himself. Then, he kneeled beside you and ran his fingers along your body.

“You don’t know how much I’ve thought about this.”

You rolled under his touch, desire consuming you.

“Please…Steve”

Steve sighed, but secretly thrilled that his dream was coming true. You were begging him for it.

“I thought you knew what this was, who was in charge…”

He rolled your nipple and then pinched it when you said,

"You are, Sir!"

Steve rolled his big body over yours, supporting himself with his arms over your head. His cock nudged your wet slit, and he swore. 

“So damn good, Doll.” 

You moved your hips, trying for friction, or the goal, penetration, desperate now. 

“Please, Steve, don’t make me wait. I need you. I’m yours.”

Steve stilled, and looked into your eyes.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that…that you’re mine?” 

His tongue licked at your bottom lip before he kissed you. 

“I’m not letting you go.” 

His hips started moving, sliding his rigid member through your folds before testing your entrance. His eyes stuttered closed at the resistance there and at the way you slowly yielded open for him. Your eyes rolled back as he stretched you out like never before, fully sliding into you.

You both gasped as he bottomed out, and you gazed at each other, getting lost in the moment. You knew you would never be the same as you met Steve’s thrusts and he didn’t break eye contact as he stroked you to the most mind-numbing orgasm you’d ever had, embarrassingly quickly. 

Steve stroked lazily for a few minutes before he pulled out, turned you over and admired your back, tenderly kissing your shoulder blades.

“You are so beautiful. Everywhere.”

He lined up to your sopping wet pussy and slowly breached you again.

“What is the proper response, Lieutenant?”

“To what, Sir?”

Steve’s head dropped so that his hair brushed your neck and his tongue traced your spine, causing you to arch your back as he slid all of the way home.

“To the statement of fact that you are beautiful. Everywhere.”

His voice was a desperate groan, and so sexy.

“Oh,” you exclaimed, and kept your mouth open, searching for air because you almost forgot how to breathe.

Steve smacked your ass.

“That’s not correct.”

He was going hard now, and his voice was strained. He was close.

“Y-yes, Sirrrrrrr!”

You came again, pussy clutching Captain America’s cock. Steve became the most profane you’d ever heard him.

“Feels so fucking good, Doll. Love this ass, and this tight, wet, pussy. Fuckkkkk!”

Steve roared as you felt his hot ropes of cum spurt inside you, triggering yet another orgasm.

“Oh my goddd!”

You collapsed and Steve moved so that you were still connected, but on your sides.

“We’ve got to finish the movie. Need to find out what happens with Mookie…”

"Yes, Sir."

But Steve was falling asleep, and you looked over your shoulder at the super soldier who looked more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. You kissed his arm, which was wound around you, and which was holding you tight.

—--

The next Thursday, you were in your office when you heard a commotion. You looked out of your window as you saw Captain Rogers striding toward your office, this time in uniform, his hat under his arm. You closed your blinds and went to stand outside the door of your space as he moved nearer to you.

Damn. You should never have told Steve how much him being in uniform affected you.

“Captain Rogers, this is a surprise.”

You kept your eyes straight ahead as you stood at attention and he moved around you.

“I need your help again, Lieutenant. In your office. Now.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“At ease.”

You relaxed as Steve put his hat on your desk, advanced upon you, putting his hands on your waist as he kissed you silly while easily lifting you and placing you on your desk. He backed up to take a look at you as you crossed your legs.

“I’m here to inspect your uniform today, Lieutenant. From this view, it looks splendid.”

“Thank you, Sir.” 

You straightened your torso and pulled on your jacket, but you knew that he was speaking about the fact that you’d worn a skirt today, as he requested.

“I’m interested to see if you followed all instructions.”

Steve’s hands were on your thighs and he pulled them apart and got on his knees before you. He smiled and licked his lips as he saw that you were in fact, not wearing any underwear. He also could smell your arousal and opened his mouth to breathe it in. He was transfixed. You snapped him out of it when you asked him a question.

“You said you needed help, Sir?”

He looked up at your cocky grin.

“Yes, lieutenant. Need you to help me with a new term I came across today in my reading. Cunnilingus?”

“Y-yes, Sir. Of course Sir.”

It was all you could say as Captain Steve Rogers inspected your uniform from underneath your skirt.

------

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[delirious-donna]

story summary: Omegas had never been allowed within the ranks of the Scout Regiment, that was until Erwin took over as Commander. Now, it’s commonplace for Alphas and Omegas to work side by side and harmony has prevailed.

That is until one Omega slips up and triggers their first ever heat, that Omega is you…

“Shh, little one. Let me take care of you like you asked. Your skin is divine to touch… soft and smooth. It makes me want to bite it all over,” he admitted. “If you were mine, I would—” Erwin let the sentence falter, not knowing if it was wise to admit exactly what he would do if you were his. Nor did he want to admit just how badly he wanted you to be his.

pairing: Alpha Erwin Smith x Omega female reader

word count: 10.1k (brings snacks and get comfy)

warnings: omegaverse AU, no mention of titans, abundant mentions of heats/ruts, boss/subordinate dynamic, knotting, breeding kink, biting kink, aggression surrounding reader (they remain safe throughout), scenting, protector Erwin, internal conflict, mini appearances of Hange and Levi, spit, mounting, look… it’s a lot of smut and smutty thoughts all the way through 😆

thanks to @thesoftugly for volunteering to beta read this behemoth

Before Commander Smith had taken over The Scout Regiment, Omegas had not been allowed to serve within the division. The school of thought was generally that it would not be safe for any Omega to be around a military division largely occupied by Alphas, and not just any Alphas, but some of the strongest and most ferocious. 

Erwin disagreed with that idea. 

“If any of my soldiers cannot control their nature and act accordingly around an Omega then they do not belong in my ranks. We must protect those that cannot protect themselves and do so without appearing superior. No Scout worth their salt would dare defy me.” 

He recalled the stunned silence he was met with when he laid out his reasoning for the draft of new recruits he was bringing into the Scouts. Even his closest ally, Pyxis, had glanced at him with doubtful eyes and a twitching moustache. 

It was a brave decision, and he knew that. However, history would not tell the tales of the meek and whilst Commander Smith was not looking for fame or glory, he was certain that this generation of Scouts would become infamous. He would ensure it was for good reason and not from disgrace. 

From that moment, Omegas were welcomed into the ranks and two years of peace and harmony ensued. 

~ 

“What seems to be the problem?” Hange asked, lifting their gaze from the clipboard in their hand to peer at you over the rim of their glasses. 

“You’re not a doctor. Where’s Doctor Hamilton?” 

Hange clicked their teeth and rolled their eyes in exasperation. “She’s out sick. I might not have a doctorate in medicine, but I am the best we have as a stand in until she returns. I have several other patients to see so I suggest you ‘chop chop’ and tell me what you need.” They made a chopping motion with their hands, and you wanted to die right then and there. 

This was exactly what you didn’t need.  

Hange couldn’t know. They mustn’t know why you were here. You couldn’t afford to be turfed back into the monotonous boredom of clerking for the Military Police. There were only so many transcripts of interrogations of clearly wrongfully imprisoned patsies you could write up. 

You had your limits and to go back to ‘The Pen’ as it was not-so-affectionately called, would be enough for you to consider calling your career in the military quits altogether. Then what would your mother say?  

The thought of her smug expression and the ‘I told you so’ that would be written plainly across her face was enough to sour the contents of your stomach. She couldn’t understand your desire to venture even a toe out of the safety of the MP and their dedicated Omega squad. It was like being herded sheep. Every second you had hated, once again being judged on only your position on the ladder of power. 

When the opportunity for non-alphas to join the ranks of the Scout Regiment arose two years ago, you had worked diligently to secure a transfer. It had not been easy, but was anything worth fighting for ever easy?  

It had been nearly a full year since your new post begun and, in your time here, you had never felt more fulfilled in your whole life. You had a job that you didn’t hate, you felt like you were actually making a difference, and most importantly, you had friends. Real, true friends that were not simply others considered of the same social standing.   

More so, your most recent post had put you directly into the path of a man you had admired quietly from afar for many many years… Commander Smith was everything you could ever want in a man.  

Passionate. Courageous. Eloquent. Assertive. Handsome. 

That last thought surprised you, although you had long admitted it to yourself. It was not your place to lust after a man of such high stature, especially not the man in charge of the entire division and your direct superior. What surprised you was that you had allowed it to escape into the frantic hive of your mind. 

It was something you had been suppressing since taking the promoted post as Commander Smith’s new personal assistant. You had made a vow to yourself that you would keep your wicked—carnal—thoughts about the blond hulk of an Alpha to yourself. Work was work and the filthy fantasies that played out when you were laying in bed in deepest nighttime were between you and your poor overused vibrator. 

“It... doesn’t matter,” you said, standing abruptly. 

“Uh, no no. Sit your butt back down and tell me why you asked for this appointment. I was told you indicated it was an emergency,” Hange countered with a frown. 

They moved to block your view of the door, eyes narrowing at how you were obviously considering a dash for the exit. This was not helping. A flush ran the course of your spine and spread over your head. Another minute or two and sweat would be leaking from your pores as if you had just emerged from a sauna. 

“Fever?” Hange asked curiously. 

“Yes! I mean, yes, a fever... that’s it. I think I’m coming down with something.” You clutched at the lifeline they had unwittingly thrown. 

Hange reached for a thermometer and the stethoscope laying on the orderly doctor’s desk. They approached slowly, the reassuring smile doing nothing to calm the racing pulse which would be discovered all too soon. They took the necessary measurements and drew back with their nose scrunched. 

“It’s none of my business, but a word of advice — you might want to consider using less perfume. The smell is a little overpowering and what with us having a keen sense of smell, it’s probably not wise.” 

Oh. 

“R-right, sorry,” you stammered shyly. 

If Hange only knew the truth of it.  

This perfume was the only thing masking the first bloom of your scent. It was faint right now, but soon it would be so potent that Alphas from miles away would catch a whiff on the wind if it was in blowing in the right direction. 

There had never been an expectation for Omegas to mask in the Scouts. Suppressants were not a mandated requirement to work here, and as far as you were aware, there had never been any incidents of Alphas overstepping. Of course, things like that could have been kept hush hush from the lowly subordinates, but there was something inherently honest in everyone you had dealings with here in Trost. 

You did choose to suppress; a decision you were no longer entirely at ease with. Growing up it had been expected; the monthly injections and daily medication started the very second you entered adolescence. It was tedious. 

Perhaps that was why you found yourself in this current predicament—out of suppressants and your monthly injection days away from expiration. Were you subconsciously rebelling? 

The more you considered it, the more it made sense. You were in your late twenties now and the thought of experiencing what was meant to be a large part of your societal culture and physiological needs… it didn’t disgust you as it once had when you were younger. 

It was just a shame that the only Alpha you wanted was well and truly out of reach. 

“Alrighty then. Your core temperature is slightly elevated but not enough for me to be overly concerned. There is no noise on your chest and apart from your pulse being a little quick...” They paused, cutting a curious glance in your direction and making you jump from your wayward thoughts. “I think the best course of action would be a day of bedrest and plenty of hydration. If it gets worse come back and we’ll see about referring the symptoms to Doctor Hamilton for antibiotics to be prescribed.” 

Nodding fervently, you stood quickly and surreptitiously steadied your balance with a palm on the wall beside you. The need to be out of this too small room was clawing nails down your skin, a wave of dizziness draining the blood from your face which thankfully went unnoticed as Hange became far more interested in a manilla folder in their hands. 

“Thanks. I appreciate you seeing me on short notice, please send my regards to Doctor Hamilton.” 

You had never dashed so swiftly to your quarters, only breathing a long sigh of relief once the door was closed behind your back and the lock clicked into place. Slowly, you slid to the floor and curled your arms around your knees. 

What am I going to do? 

Something stirred inside the depths of your brain, an entity shrouded in sleepy shackles that were ready to snap at any moment. A pulse of heat erupted in your stomach then vanished as fast as it had arrived. You sensed a smile stretching wide in anticipation.  

Sleep found you surprisingly easily that night, all your anxieties melting away into insignificance as your body prepared for what was coming. Your silly concerns mattered not to your beastly side, they needed you fresh faced and in peak physical condition. 

Your first heat was coming, there would be nothing to stop it this time. 

~ 

Erwin drummed his fingers on the polished cherry wood desk. He was already bored to tears by the man droning on and on about... something or other. Truth be told, he had tuned out soon after the speech started. For this was absolutely a speech and not the informal conversation that had been sold to him initially. 

His cool blue eyes glanced to the corner to watch you scribbling furiously on a secretary’s pad, your tongue between your teeth in concentration. He did not envy you this task, especially when he was certain you were under the weather. 

“I’m fine, Commander. Please don’t relieve me from duty, I need something to focus on and we both know you don’t want to have to listen to Commander Dok. I’ll scribe just fine, I swear it!” 

Erwin was fond of you, more so than he wished to admit.  

Only recently had you taken over as his personal secretary when the previous one had retired from active service after finding their mate, a feat he was more than happy to witness since it was far from guaranteed in the world they lived in.  

He enjoyed your sharp wit and dedication to the Scouts. Your smile had a way of lighting up the room, although he was certain that was not something he should have taken note of. You were young and enthusiastic, bright eyed and bushy tailed as some might say. 

Shakily, you pushed strands of hair that had fallen into your eyes back behind your ear and he felt a deep crease form between his eyebrows. Now that he was looking at you closely, he could see a thin sheen of sweat decorating your skin.  

He had to do something, and now. 

“Nile, I must apologise for interrupting,” he interjected, lifting a placating hand, “but I have another engagement that I must attend to. I had no idea you wished to take up so much of my time or I would have scheduled a longer appointment. However, given that nothing you have mentioned is especially pressing, I will endeavour to meet with you again next week. How does that sound?” 

Nile bristled at being dismissed so readily. “You’ll never not be a pain in my arse, Erwin Smith.” 

“Ahem, no need to include that in the transcript,” Erwin said jovially, casting a twinkling smile in your direction which was not returned, much to his disappointment. 

Another twenty minutes was spent negotiating with Nile, off record, before the man finally departed. When the office door finally closed, Erwin watched as your posture relaxed and your arm fell limp to your side with the pen still dangling between your fingertips. 

“You’re sick,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

The Commander rose from his chair and stalked closer, eyeing you carefully to assess your condition. He stopped a few feet from you, sniffing subtly before shaking his head. He was being ridiculous. He had to be. 

Your eyes cracked opened slowly to roam around the room before landing on his midsection and rose up up up until you met his piercing blue gaze. If he didn’t know better, he would say you were under the influence of alcohol or something far more illicit. A glaze coated your eyes and turned them… sultry. 

Erwin stiffened; his spine lengthened, and his stance fell back to one of familiarity from years in the military. He couldn’t help but watch your chest rise and fall, the rhythm unnaturally fast and it only drew his attention to the top three buttons of your blouse, ones that were normally fastened but were not today.  

He should stop. 

“I know you said you needed something to focus on, but I cannot have you falling over at your desk. Consider yourself on bedrest for the rest of the week—” 

“But Sir! I’m fine,” you interrupted loudly. The shock of his words jolted you upright in your seat and nearly had you toppling out of it altogether just as he had warned. 

“Since when do you answer back to your superior like that? This is highly uncharacteristic from you, and I refuse to allow it to continue. You are relieved of all duties until Monday morning, do you hear me?” 

He hated being strict when you were so obviously out of sorts. This was not behaviour he had come to expect from you, along with his growing affection, he silently cursed himself when your eyes turned red and misty. 

Standing, your head bowed in submission. “Yes, Commander. I apologise for my outburst.” 

Erwin clicked his tongue against his teeth and despite thinking better of it, he raised his hand so that two fingers slid beneath your chin. “There is no need for that. All I ask is for you to get better, okay?” 

It was a mistake, but one he only realised once it was too late. 

A soft purr seemed to emanate from your chest, an enticing sound the likes of which he had not had the pleasure of hearing for the longest time. Erwin pulled his hand back like he had been scorched. The heat of your skin increased tenfold, and for a moment he had the desire to look at his fingertips to see if they did in fact sizzle like how they felt. 

He watched you leave; dumbstruck and frozen to the spot as if he had taken root on the antique rug beneath him. It had been so long since he had first-hand experience of an Omega approaching a heat that he almost dismissed the signs as figments of his imagination.  

However, the animal inside would not be so gullible. 

~ 

That evening and the following day were a total blur.  

You had no real clue how much time had passed since you were dismissed by Commander Erwin, neither did you know what time of day it was currently. 

All you knew was that you were too hot and that even the thinnest bedsheet was too much for your overheating body. You writhed atop your mattress, naked and unbearably uncomfortable. The cotton from the fitted sheet was clammy from your sweat, droplets rushing from places you never dreamed of.  

For the millionth time, your hands passed over your body and you hissed like a wounded animal when you grazed the stiff peaks of your nipples. You tweaked at them in turn, the painful pleasure echoing between your legs… 

Speaking of which, your cunt was completely soaked. 

After ruining four consecutive pairs of underwear with the rivers of slick flowing easily from your aching hole, you had endeavoured to remain entirely naked. Nature was preparing you for the only thing that would calm your mind, lift the fog that had descended and satiate your body. The abundance of lubrication present to help your Alpha ease into your body, to feed you their cock and eventually their knot with minimal discomfort. 

Except, you didn’t have an Alpha.  

It was funny how you knew the symptoms and process of a heat, but the theory was nothing compared to experiencing them first hand. You had no idea how those who chose not to suppress dealt with this routinely. It felt like hot knives were carving through your insides, shredding you apart until you didn’t recognise yourself. The reflection in the mirror would be someone—something else. 

Distantly, you heard knocks coming from the door to your quarters, but you paid it little attention. It wasn’t like you could walk the short distance to it anyway, nor were you in any state to answer. Voices followed the knocks which grew in determination.  

Hange, maybe? You couldn’t be sure. Although, you wouldn’t put it past Commander Smith to send someone to check in on you, especially if he discovered you had visited the temporary doctor recently as well as your outburst in his office. 

All you could do was roll over onto your side and press your palm between your thighs, stimulating the bundle of nerves with the heel of your hand in an effort to ease the continuous throbbing sensation. You screwed your eyes shut, the black of your eyelids turning into a kaleidoscope of colours until they formed a figure—a figure you were well acquainted with—and had no right to be thinking about in this context.  

Commander Erwin Smith’s silhouette shook like a desert mirage until it thickened and materialised in your mind’s eye. If you strained enough, you could smell the scent of his understated cologne and beneath that, his unique musk that was all him.  

Those natural pheromones that dominated all others and highlighted his status as Alpha. Not just any Alpha, but one of the most powerful Alphas in Trost. The Alpha you admired the most if you let the little voice in your head speak freely. 

Your nose twitched again, and your eyes shot wide as you realised it was stronger when you moved your head closer to the edge of the bed. 

On the floor lay your blouse and skirt, the ones you had worn during his meeting with Commander Dok. Without hesitation, you grabbed up the blouse and held it beneath your nose to inhale deeply.  

There it was. 

A spicy scent unlike any other. It was warming and comforting, for the first time in, you didn’t know how long, you could breathe a little easier and the heavy feeling in your heart and gut lightened. You nuzzled the blouse. Holding it against each cheek in turn before returning it to your nose. 

Why couldn’t you scent it directly from his skin? It wasn’t fair. You could bury your nose in the hollow of his throat. Lick lazily at the prominent bob of his Adam’s apple. Grind your feverish body against his until he was hard and ready to take you.  

You should stop pretending. 

Gods… what were you doing? 

There was no denying the primal desires swirling like a building vortex in your brain. You wanted to be full, stretched to the breaking point. You needed to be bred like the good little Omega you were. You wanted a knot so badly you could cry.  

None of these were thoughts you had experienced before and had you been in your right mind, they would have shocked you right down to the core.  

Delicate shaky fingers sought out your aching hole, two slipping easily past the ring of muscles until your knuckles were lodged against the gumminess of your walls, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.  

Without an Alpha here to pin you down and split you wide, you would suffer. Without Erwin here to smother you with his impressive weight, you would continue to feel bereft. Wronged by a universe that danced to its own tune without thought for those affected. 

Yes, it would pass eventually, but you doubted your sanity would be intact when that time finally arrived. A hurt-sounding howl escaped your throat, a lament aimed at a world that was proving to be unfair and unjust. 

With a final wail, you curled in on yourself and fell into a pain-filled sleep. All the while, the commotion on the other side of your quarters door continued unabated. 

~ 

Erwin had not needed to be notified of the ruckus kicking off in the living quarters assigned to secretarial and support personnel. He could hear it from all the way in his office. At first, he assumed it would be dealt with as all other little scuffles were, but after ten minutes, his concern heightened. 

He was met with a very red-faced soldier whom he could not recall the name of. “Commander! We have a situation. Captain Levi sent me to find you… there is, well—” 

“Spit it out, we don’t have all day.” Erwin demanded, barely halting in his purposeful strides in the direction of the noise. He could hear arguing, but almost above the rabble, a soft howl of distress caught his attention. It sounded familiar, and his pace quickened. 

“An Omega… they are going into a heat. It seems to have riled those living in close proximity.” 

Erwin stalled. “What?” 

Fury bleed from his pores. Had they all lost their damn minds? This wasn’t the first heat to happen since Erwin’s command, and there had never been this level of disorder. He rounded the final corner and was confronted by six men in various states of dress, some with visible injuries on their faces and hands and at the door which he assumed led to the Omega in question, Levi stood on an overturned chair looking equal parts haughty and furious. 

“Enough!” Erwin bellowed over the heated voices. “Pull yourselves together or I will be forced to take further action.” 

An awkward silence descended almost immediately. The power of his voice along with the blast of authority he projected towards the troublemakers was more than enough to have their metaphorical tails lying limp between their legs. 

“About damn time,” Levi snarled. 

He leapt to the floor and shouldered past two engineers with matching bruises blooming purple beneath their eyes. They dared to bare their teeth, but remained silent, nonetheless. Levi seemed oblivious, or more likely he considered them so far removed from a threat that he took no note. 

Levi’s eyes cut up to Erwin, an eyebrow arching at the high blush that was slowly coating the Commander’s cheeks. He knew what had caused the pandemonium and what shamed him the most was his inability to remain unaffected.  

A first heat. 

They were special for most Omegas and could be extremely traumatising if not handled delicately and in the right way. From experience, Erwin knew that it was commonplace for Omegas who were unattached to seek out help from other Omegas in their family or close friends. They could ride out the worst of the heat whilst knowing they were safe and being cared for, but this… he couldn’t imagine what they were going through whilst trapped in a den of literal wolves. 

“You can smell it, right?” Levi whispered out of earshot of the others. “It’s a first heat and I must be honest; I am barely hanging on myself. Hange sought me out when they couldn’t raise an answer at the door, and by the time we returned… well, this was the scene. Some of the men were tearing at each other to get to the door and they had started to break it in places. Apparently, she presented at the clinic three days ago under the guise of a fever, Hange now suspects that they were suppressing and had run out of the drugs. She seemed unwilling to admit it to Hange, perhaps because they are an Alpha and Doctor Hamilton is not.” 

A fever? Oh no. With alarming clarity, the puzzle pieces fell into place. Erwin knew why the howl he had heard seemed familiar, why the scent of arousal mingled with pheromones tickled his nose in such a way that he was struggling to stop himself from huffing the air like the men now forcibly being returned to their rooms. 

It was his sweet little personal assistant. You weren’t sick, you were in need, and he could help you.  

No! He mustn’t. He would control himself, but he could at least ensure you were safe. 

“You there,” he gestured to the bloodied men who were starting to disperse. “Find cots in the dormitory for tonight, I cannot trust that you won’t try this again and I will personally cut down anyone who tries to enter these quarters without express permission. Captain Levi will escort you.” 

Erwin turned to Levi and ignored the scowl emblazoned across his face. “See that the dormitories are guarded by those you trust the most and have everyone in this part of the wing relocated for the next night or two.” 

“Don’t go in there, Erwin.” Levi’s warning was barely above a whisper. 

The Commander clapped a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder and moved past him towards the barely intact door. “And Levi? Ask Miche to replace this door within the hour,” he asked calmly without acknowledging the words of warning, stepping directly into the breach. 

For once he wasn’t going toe to toe with powerful enemies, he was facing a different beast altogether and somehow, he was more nervous about this situation than any battle he had participated in… 

Your small apartment space was orderly with minimal decorations, but he noted a family photograph nailed to the wall and an arrangement of plush cushions resembling animals piled up on the cramped little couch. 

His gaze swivelled absently around the room, in truth, he was doing everything in his power not to make a direct line for the bedroom. Your scent hung like thick molasses now that he was inside, hands fisting by his sides to remain where he stood. Erwin was the master of his body, not his instincts but the fight was not a fair one on this occasion. 

He had never smelled anything quite as inviting, and that was entirely the problem. Whilst, he had had partners in the past, even gone through a heat or two, none of them tempted him in the way he felt tempted right this second. It was as if the scent was visible on the air, seductive tendrils writhing around him and beckoned him to move closer to the source. 

It was as if all his favourite sweet treats from his childhood had melted into one tantalising scent crafted especially for him. Saliva gathered behind his clenched teeth. German chocolate cake. Fire roasted marshmallow. Raspberry jam straight from the jar. He wanted to drink it down like a man discovering a bountiful oasis after days without water. It made him feel younger, though he was hardly past his prime, but the scent invigorated his heart until he was certain he could best the top cadet in a foot race. 

If someone told him that the vapour was tickling him beneath the chin, he would believe it. 

After several moments of calming breaths which did little to actually calm his nerves, Erwin dared to venture deeper. He told himself that he needed to assess your condition, which was true, but if his instincts could speak, they would announce loudly their desire to catch a whiff of your scent directly from the honeypot. 

The bedroom was dark, though it mattered little given his ability to see well in low lighting, and what he saw on the bed, stopped his heart for what felt like a full minute. A huddled mass lay in the very centre, your body in the foetal position with a hand buried between your legs and the other arm covering your naked breasts. 

He should look away.  

He should stop staring at your skin glistening with dewdrops of sweat and sticky slick pooling beneath you.  

He should cover your vulnerability and walk away, leave this to someone else, but there was no one he trusted to handle this situation in his stead.  

Your breathing was even and deep, a blessing given your predicament. As voices approached in the hallway outside, Erwin snapped out of his drunken stupor and did the first thing that came to mind. He pulled off his jacket and laid it over your body. It barely reached mid-thigh, but it would do. 

With your modesty protected, somewhat, he retreated to oversee the work on your door being replaced. What he didn’t see was the smile of contentment on your face and the visible relief of being draped in his scent loosening the tight ache of your muscles.  

In sleep you burrowed into the jacket warmed by his blood. 

~ 

It was the sound of pages being turned in a book that roused you. It shouldn’t have, given how carefully the reader was being to not make noise, but the ache in your gut had returned and the fatigue was no longer severe enough to allow you to sleep on. 

For a long moment you kept your eyes carefully closed, wondering what it was that weighed so nicely over your body and kept the worst of your current dilemma at bay. It felt like being held by a loved one, as if you were young once more and your mother was wrapping you in her protective and caring embrace. 

“You’re awake.” 

Commander Smith’s rich baritone rumbled from somewhere behind you. It froze the very blood in your veins until another wave of desire pulsed through you, causing you to writhe and buck, to your shame. Not him. Anyone but him. 

Lies! You want him most of all… don’t deny it. 

You couldn’t look at him—not now. Instead, you steeled your voice and spoke to the wall. “Commander Smith… why are you in my bedroom?” 

“I apologise if you have the wrong impression, however, my presence was rather necessary given your… predicament,” Erwin supplied, sounding more uneasy than you had ever heard him. “I must be honest with you because that is only fair.” 

He sighed and the sound caused a moan to bubble inside your throat, barely caught before it slipped out. Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you waited for him to continue not only because you needed to know, but the sound of his voice soothed you in ways you didn’t wish to examine closer.  

“Your heat triggered some displays of aggression amongst your neighbours. There may have been attempts made at getting to you, but do not worry,” Erwin stressed when he saw how you tensed on the bed. “Your door has been replaced, and I will personally ensure your safety until it has passed.” 

“Aggression? You’re telling me that—oh fuck.” All rational thought and ability to speak coherently died on a single spasm between your thighs. You should be absolutely appalled that anyone had tried to get inside your quarters without permission, but that animalistic instinct reared its head and grinned wickedly into the dark space of your mind. 

It was what you needed. To be taken, filled, consumed… bred.  

“Don’t speak right now, it’ll pass so just breathe for me,” Erwin coaxed softly whilst the sound of a chair creaked as it was dragged across a wooden floor. “A first heat can be very difficult. I assume you have suppressed since adolescence—you don’t need to answer. I-I don’t have any personal experience to draw upon, but I will do whatever it takes to help you through this.” 

Fuck me… you thought, enraged that you wanted it so badly that you were chewing your lips bloody from speaking it aloud. Your spine bowed at the ripples of heat spreading outward from your centre to the ends of your fingers and toes, to the top of your head. 

“Can you walk? I’ve run a lukewarm bath which might help cool you down.” 

“No. Commander—you shouldn’t…” You broke off on a sob, wracked with another wave of scorching fire attacking the insides of your thighs at the steady drip of slick covering your skin. 

“Please, it’s Erwin. Given the situation, I don’t think formalities are necessary right now. I’m going to lift you into my arms, okay? I’ll be gentle and you may hold on as tightly as you need to. Once I’ve got you in the bath, I will step outside to give you some privacy.”  

The bath water was just cool enough that you sighed happily as the water sloshed over you. It was no comparison to the relief you felt whilst held in Erwin’s careful arms, but simply thinking of how easily your arms had wound around his neck gave you shivers of a completely different kind. 

You did your best to refute all those lustful thoughts from months of working closely with the Commander. Of course, you hadn’t noticed how broad his shoulders were or how the short undercut at the nape of his neck tickled your fingertips when you held on. Nope. Nada.  

Your nose was growing at an alarming rate with all this lying. 

Through drooped lids you watched whilst he glanced around your meagre bathroom looking for goodness knows what. He was too large, too imposing for such a cramped space but despite it all, you liked him in here—wanted him to stay. 

Where others may have taken full advantage of having a naked Omega within reach, not to mention an Omega in heat, Erwin had shown you nothing but diligent care. It made you wonder if your state bothered him at all, and somehow the thought that it might not… well, that bothered you.   

He was an Alpha; shouldn’t he want you?  

“Stay… please?” You purred when he made to exit and give you the privacy he had promised. 

Erwin paused in the doorway. His piercing artic eyes roamed your face and dipped towards the fluttering pulse in your neck but ventured no further. You could see the tic in his cheek work at the same time his jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared. He was fighting himself. 

One soapy hand reached for his clenched fist, bubbles dripping across his knuckles until the fingers finally—finally—loosened and gently entwined with yours. 

“I shouldn’t,” he breathed more to himself. 

You hummed in a half agreement, bolstered by the need thrumming through your body. “But you will, won’t you? Sit here.” 

Erwin awkwardly perched on the corner of the tub before reaching for the towel he had laid out for you to wipe his wet hand. There were wrinkles in his normally crisp shirt, the top buttons unfastened and the bolo tie that rested around his throat suspiciously absent. This was by far the most casual you had been afforded to see him. You guessed not many had received such a luxury. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked whilst he began to roll his sleeves towards the bend at his elbows. It was hard to follow the movements given he was sat near your shoulder, but you twisted enough to keep some of him in view, sloshing water in the process. 

You took a second to assess, listening to the competing demands being screamed in your mind and body. This was certainly the most lucid you had felt since the heat had started, and you had an inkling that Erwin’s presence had a lot to do with it.  

Would you ever be able to express your gratitude? 

In short, yes it did hurt. However, there was a will to prove that you were not so easily overcome or beaten down. A sly voice echoed around your mind, purring and shunting you to ask for more of your Commander—far more than you had any right to. 

“Not badly, I guess. But you could make it better… if you were inclined to. I think I would like it very much,” you urged gently, once more finding his hand and leading it towards the rippling surface of the bath. 

Erwin didn’t stop you.  

He didn’t seem to breathe or blink. Blindly, he allowed for his fingers to skim the water before breaking the surface and slipping over the wet flesh covering your shoulder. His cock strained against his underwear and trousers; the rigid length trapped along his thigh whilst thick pearls of precum oozed out to stain the heavy fabric. 

He had been aroused since he first identified your scent, more so when he felt your heat descend over his like a vaporous fog. Finding you naked in bed had not fed his desire, if anything, it infuriated him and roused his protective nature.  

Now that you were awake and calm enough to speak without letting out whines of distress or angry expletives… now he was truly struggling to maintain his composure. 

“Do you have any idea what you are asking of me?” he murmured, wet fingertips tracing swirling patterns over your collarbone and across your clavicle. One pad dipped into the hollow of your throat, eliciting a soft moan that nearly broke him. 

If you responded, he didn’t hear it.  

You were sweltering to the touch; the lightly perfumed oil he had added to the water slicked your skin so the journey down your chest was made all the easier. His fingers skirted over the mounds of your breasts, avoiding your nipples although you did your best to thrust upward and force his hand so to speak. 

Erwin’s tongue clicked against his teeth in a commanding tsk. “Behave.” 

He continued to explore you, slowly and methodically. It was bliss. It was torture. Your head rested against the tiled backsplash; eyes closed as you concentrated solely on the sensation of his hand on you. Erwin traced the sides of your breasts down to your soft stomach; he circled your navel then ventured back up to give attention to your neglected nipples. 

His breathing was more of pant when he tweaked your tender little nub between a rough finger and thumb. Your eyebrows creased when he pulled it taut and tugged firmly, the echo of the sensation causing your clit to throb in unison. It was difficult not to wriggle but you wanted to be good for him, to behave as he had asked. 

“Com—Erwin… please? It hurts so bad.” 

“Shh, little one. Let me take care of you like you asked. Your skin is divine to touch… soft and smooth. It makes me want to bite it all over,” he admitted. “If you were mine, I would—” Erwin let the sentence falter, not knowing if it was wise to admit exactly what he would do if you were his. Nor did he want to admit just how badly he wanted you to be his. 

“You would… what?” You tried to cajole, moving just enough so that his fingertips brushed the opposite nipple, and you let out a long exhale of relief. 

He couldn’t deny you, not in this matter or any other, not right now. It was funny how there was a systemic flaw in society’s hierarchy. Alphas were meant to be the ones on top, but it wasn’t always true and especially not for those who found their mates. Omegas held the power and never was it more evident than this moment here. 

Erwin Smith was your superior in the literal sense. He was the Commander of the Scout Regiment, and he held responsibility for every soldier and support worker under his command. Yet here he was in the tiny bathroom of his assistant—his direct subordinate—with his hand submerged to the elbow and his cock so hard he wanted to tear the damn thing off.  

You held all the cards, and you didn’t even know it, because if you did then there was no way you wouldn’t have already pounced given the instincts running through you. 

“I shouldn’t be saying this, but,” he enthused when you started to whine pitifully. “I would not have allowed for you to become as delirious as you did. It must have been agony, and you were alone—I don’t like that. Any heat can be torture to endure if you deny yourself the only plausible relief, not to mention this is your first. If you were my… mate.”  

Erwin paused again; aware his hand had moved without his prior notice. He was cupping your cunt in his palms, stretching and flexing his thick fingers along the seam of your labia. With ease he sought and located your jittery bundle of nerves, circling the pad of his thumb with slow, deliberate strokes. 

“Tell me, Commander— ‘wanna know how you’d treat your mate.” 

“Mm. I’d have taken a leave of absence the second the signs of your cycle came to light. I’d bite that lovely creamy skin at your neck where the scent gland resides, hold you in my jaws whilst I fed my cock into your drenched cunt. I’d have loved you exactly as you deserve—worshipped every inch of your scorched skin with my mouth and hands. Whispered words of devotion into your ear until I was ready to give you my knot, and more importantly, when you were ready to take it. I’d have you come time and again until you were properly sated,” he admitted with a heated growl. 

You mewled at the images he fed you, his words dripping with hungry conviction and accompanied by the ministrations of his skilful hand playing between your thighs like a damn savant. 

Your imagination ran at full speed imagining the knot he would give you, of the painful pleasure from his sharpened teeth piercing the scent gland at your neck and how you wished it was the mating mark he was leaving you.  

As two thick digits worked inside your aching, needy hole you thought of the fullness that would come with having his cockhead buried against the neck of your womb. Gods, you wanted to be split in half until his name was carved into your gummy walls. The searing heat of being stuffed to capacity that would be far more pleasurable, unlike the current stinging sensation you were experiencing. 

You grasped at Erwin’s forearm and revelled at how the muscles flexed as he continued to pump two fingers into you, his thumb aggressively rubbing at your swollen pearl. It was just enough to bring you to the peak, the waters barely disrupted, Erwin working furiously but only from the wrist down. 

“You’ve no idea how badly I want to climb into this damned tub and make you take me. I won’t. I swear it. I’ll protect you and keep you safe… from me. It’s okay. That’s it—there we go. Feel it consume you.” 

He was babbling—switching rapidly between commanding and anxious. His large frame threw a shadow over you; bending more he buried his nose into your hair and inhaled deeply. You thought he might have whimpered but you were too far gone to be certain. Your nails dug bloody marks into his arm, encouraging him on until you gave one final shuddering spasm and broke apart like a star finally imploding. 

Tears burned in your eyes. Your stomach contracted over and over whilst you rode out a high that didn’t last nearly as long as you had hoped it would. The desire in your gut rekindled like a dying fire fed oxygen. 

 What had been enough no longer was. 

“Erwin… please. I’ll be so good for you, don’t hold back. I want—I need it all. Everything you described! The fullness. The bite. I want to feel your weight pressing me down, dominating me. Can you...? I just want to know what it’s like,” you wailed in utter misery, absolutely convinced that he would deny you. 

“I’m a nobody,” you continued, releasing your grip on his arm to wipe at your tears. “I appreciate you even going this far. I’ll never be able to look you in the eye again, but I’ll always be grateful for this. You’re a good man, Commander Smith, I’ve admired you for years.” 

His laughter warmed your heart just a little. It was robust and genuine, and whilst you wanted to turn and see for yourself what expression he wore, you didn’t want to witness pity—not from him. “You can go. Just leave me a towel and I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll sleep it off or—” 

Erwin’s hand twitched and you almost yelped, biting into your tongue until you tasted coppery blood. His fingers slid along the wet pulsing length of your gummy walls and slowly rose from the water. You closed your eyes, turning away when you felt him rise to his feet.  

You didn’t expect him to say anything.  

You certainly didn’t expect two muscled arms to plunge into the waters and lift you up and out in one smooth action. Dripping wet from shoulders to toes, you soaked his pristine uniform shirt. Only then did you dare to peek up, and the look Erwin levelled at you… it stole your breath. 

Those clever blue eyes were alight with cool fire—the flames licking around his swollen, lust-blown pupils. The thick set of his eyebrows were draw close together and he looked positively furious, but in a way that only made you squeeze your thighs together all the more. 

“Don’t you ever—ever—call yourself a nobody. I may be the Commander here but behind every great figure are those in the shadows who make that figure shine brightly. My ma—I mean, my assistant is brave and beautiful,” he declared with absolute conviction. 

Words alluded you.  

Every single thought, other than the animal voice begging you to cling to this Alpha with every available ounce of strength and never let go, had fled. Not that you needed to speak, not when he strode from your bathroom with determined steps. 

Erwin lowered you to the stained sheets of your bed and stood back with an apologetic look. “I’d offer to change them but there would be no point. We’d merely end up ruining a second set.” 

The heat of your body had dried most of the water from your skin, all except the thick, tacky arousal coating your tender pussy and streaking the insides of your thighs. His head canted left when you spread your legs, bending at the knees so that he could see the most intimate part of you on full display. 

“Little minx,” he teased with a wry smile. His fingers fumbled at the buckle of his belt and your gaze raked him in hungrily. “Warm yourself up for me, won’t you?” 

There was no modicum of inhibition left in you. You were working on pure instinct and when you were told to warm yourself, you did just that. The heel of your palm rotated against your clit whilst you spread the lips of your pussy apart and let the fingertips fuck an inch into your cunt. 

Your eyes remained glued to the man at the end of your bed. He was a powerhouse of strength and virility, thick chested and decorated with battle scars. You longed to run your fingers and tongue across each faded silvery scar—to show him just how much you appreciated his every sacrifice. Erwin shucked out of his trousers and underwear in record time, but it was not before you noted the large stains on both thighs. It made your smile turn saccharine, sultry and feminine. 

The length of his cock sprung upward to smack wetly against his abdomen, but the weight was too much to stand, which left the impressive sight to hang heavily between his thighs. The golden hair on his torso seemed to glisten despite the lack of a light source in the room, and perhaps it was a trick of your eyes. He rolled his neck from side to side, never once breaking his concentration on how you were toying with yourself at his command. 

He fisted his swollen cock, rolling the foreskin back until the beating red tip shone from the arousal dripping out the slit. Thick veins pulsed beneath his calloused fingers as he gave a few cursory pumps, moving his grip to his heavy pendulous balls to tug them loose from where they had nestled tightly near the base. 

Muscles that only came with age, experience and dedication rolled beneath his skin, smattered by those lovely coarse hairs that you wanted to feel against your cheeks. Erwin was a handsome man, that you had always known, but naked he was even more glorious—a chiselled God.  

Saliva pooled in your mouth, and you swore it seemed like your teeth elongated at the simple thought of biting into the solid wall that was his chest. His biceps. The cords in his neck. His strong jawline. Everything. 

Your appreciation did not go unnoticed. If anything, it made his chest puff with pride that you would find him so attractive. For the first time in years, he had no desire to put aside his wants in favour of someone else’s.  

Erwin wanted you entirely, and whilst he was certain you didn’t understand the full implication of that, he would take his time. Courting you would be a slow waltz, not some frenzied race to the finish line. 

He appreciated how contrary that was given he was about to fuck you into a drooling coma, but the situation called for a drastic intervention to alleviate the both of you. It had been many years since his instincts ruled him. Your intoxicatingly sweet musk had bewitched him thoroughly.  

Erwin felt like a young man again—in his prime. Back when his mind did not rule his body with an iron fist. 

“If you want this,” he tugged on his shaft for emphasis, “you’ll get on your knees and present like a good Omega.” 

Stepping close enough that his shins met the edge of the mattress, he observed you scrambling into position, his tongue wetting the plush of his bottom lip. He hadn’t tasted your mouth yet, something he would remedy at the earliest opportunity. Right now, you would nip and bite and snap at him, something he liked, but your first kiss should be more restrained than that. 

“That’s it. Good girl… look at you dripping for me. Fuck—sway your hips like that again and we won’t leave this room until you’re round and full of my pups.” 

You dropped to your elbows when you felt the bed dip behind you. Your molten cheek came to rest on the sticky sheets, the angle just enough to cut your eyes up and see him approach.  

Commander Smith. 

Erwin. 

Alpha. 

He filled his broad palms with the fat of your rump, stretching you wide until your cunt flexed in want, pushing out slick in anticipation. Erwin thumbed at your entrance before raising a hand to his mouth and licking the flat of his palm right to the tips of his fingers. The saliva felt that much hotter when it connected with your needy flesh. 

You’d be mortified by the obscene squelch of your juices and his spit mingling together if you were in your right mind. It was filthy—pure and simple.  

What you couldn’t see was Erwin coating himself in your abundant arousal, viscous strands succumbing to gravity to drip over his balls. He was breathing heavily now, the muscles taut in his neck and shoulders with the restraint of not being inside you. A wide mitt of a hand rested at your hip, massaging whilst he shuffled closer and let the weight of his tip notch at your cunt. 

“Erwin—please! Need it now. I might di—oh my fuccccckk!” 

The stretch was immediate despite how well primed you were. You knew he was thick, heavy, long… but the girth was the real killer. His cock bullied into you, inch by slow inch. 

“Ha-! Don’t… squirm. You wanted this, right?” 

Erwin clenched his fist to prevent the warning smack he nearly inflicted on your peachy butt. He was a lot to take, he knew that, and you were not accustomed to him—not yet. 

You would learn in time. He would ruin you for anyone else. 

Sweat dripped along your spine at the sweltering heat of his body engulfing yours. Erwin draped himself over you like a personal blanket, his lips and tongue and teeth exploring your skin and marking you in places you would have to contort to be able to see in the mirror come tomorrow. 

“Taste divine. Smell like nirvana. Gods, your cunt is moulded to me, sweetheart. Can you feel me here?” he asked with a thrust that made your knees wobble and stars spark in your eyes. He was lodged right at your cervix, just as you had imagined when all this began, although not from the man in question. 

“Uh-huh!” 

It was all you could manage, drool slipping past the seam of your lips as Erwin set a pace that suited him. It wasn’t the frantic fuck you expected, neither was it slow nor deliberate like his fingers had been in the bath. What he managed to achieve was a combination of pace and force that knocked the air from your lungs each time he impaled you fully. It left you whining for him when he retreated, and soon the sensation of his balls swinging directly against your swollen little nub became so overwhelming that you were certain you wouldn’t last long. 

As if he sensed your dilemma, he grunted mid-stroke and reassured you as he said, “Follow your instinct. Let your body do what it wants, what it needs. I want to feel you try to milk me.”  

Erwin grunted; jaw clenched tightly. His knot was inflating, and he didn’t feel anywhere near ready for this to be over. Rationally, he knew that once would not be enough for you. There would more time to kiss and fuck and touch and learn, but he still clung to this first time like it really was his very first time. 

In a way it was. It was his first time with you. It would not be his last. 

The intensity of your orgasm nearly had him lose his bearing, if his wrist hadn’t caught the brunt of his weight then you would have been flattened into the mattress beneath him.  

Your cunt was a greedy little thing—sucking and pulsing around his cock with little room for him to retreat. All he could do was ride out the pleasure through gritted teeth and determination not to blow his load like some young pup. 

“Bi—Bite. Bite me!” 

Christ… you were temptation and sin, and love and beauty all wrapped in one body.  

Erwin scented along your back, mounting you like any animal would and dragging the prominent ridge of his nose over the fluttering pulse in your neck. It was beating wildly, a rhythm unique to you and he hummed his appreciation when you turned to give him more access. “Here?” he asked unnecessarily. 

You chewed your lip, near delirious from the warmth and continued fullness of his cock sawing in and out of your core. He was licking the scent gland that attracted all Alphas to Omegas and Omegas to Alphas, but it was not the one on the other side that only those considered mates would bite and mark. 

“Y-yes.” 

A lie. He could smell it. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I-I… of course!” 

Erwin smiled into your skin and sighed, knowing he was reaching his limit. “You are not being honest with me, but that’s okay. I won’t press you right now, we will have time.” 

“Oh god. This won’t be enough?” You whimpered in realisation, shame coating your features and you were glad he couldn’t see how flushed your face was. 

“Can you feel my knot growing?”  

You nodded once, meekly, and he continued. “Once I plug you as nature intended, you will be fine for a good few hours, certainly until we can part safely. It’ll be enough for you to sleep and actually rest, but no… it will not be enough. I’m not going anywhere, darling.” 

“But you have duties! You’re the fucking Commander… why are you laughing?” you asked with an evident pout. 

“I think you’ll find you’re fucking the Commander.” 

“Really? We’re really going to do dad level jokes whilst you’re balls deep and I’m desperate for you to bite my damn neck and knot me? Hey—mmm.”  

Your wits scattered once again as Erwin spread his weight further, mounting you more fully than you thought possible. He braced one palm at the small of your spine and his jaw snapped wide. 

His teeth grazed your earlobe, the sharp points travelling past the carotid artery until his hot breath huffed out in a wave of heat that tickled down your spine. He was losing his pace, hips beginning to snap harsher against your perfectly plump rear in a faltering tempo. You held your breath as you sensed the moment near. 

 He was so deep—so damn deep in your guts. Erwin lunged for you, his jaw stretched, and his perfectly pointed canines pierced into your flesh like a hot knife through butter. It made you tense all over, your walls clamping down around his ready to burst cock and it tripped his orgasm with a blinding flash. Heat unlike anything you had ever experienced speared your insides, and for a second it felt like your innards might be cooked alive. 

Wave after wave of cum painted the neck of your womb. Your neck throbbed from where he held you in his beastly maw. His tongue lapped at the skin trapped between his teeth, soothing the hurt in any way he could whilst he grunted and growled spilling inside you endlessly. 

You could feel the knot ballooning. It travelled further into your body, and you’d be damned if you could accurately describe the sensation. In simple terms it felt like you were being filled and stretched to the very limit of your body’s elasticity. 

Finally, it came to rest right where it was needed most. A stopper for any seed escaping and you knew that it could be some time before you could untangle from each other. The orgasm from having Erwin’s potent essence flood your cunt was unlike any other.  

It felt like it soothed the animal inside and sent it into a tranquil slumber. With a final cry of bliss, your knees slid out from under you and sent you both falling the final few inches to the mattress below. 

Erwin licked over the wound he had inflicted, wincing at the harsh purple bite mark and dribbles of blood oozing sluggishly from the shallow wound. Hooking an arm around your front, he shifted you both, so his weight was no longer suffocating you, shushing your little whimpers when the repositioning slightly moved how you were joined. 

“Sleep, my pretty little Omega. Let me watch over you.” Let me trace my fingertips over the curve of your shoulder, memorise the position of every freckle and divot in your skin. 

He left those parts out, afraid of overwhelming you. Fearful that you might agree to things simply because of his power and position. There was no doubt in his mind that you were his mate, but could you say the same about him? 

Erwin listened to your breathing even out, the heat dissipating from your skin until you were comfortable enough to nuzzle your face into the crook of his elbow beneath you. Strands of your hair fell across your eyes, and he was careful to move them aside to watch your eyelashes flutter in sleep. 

What a lie it was… that an Alpha had all the power. 

You could make or break him completely. You were the Goddess in his world and the fear of not being enough for you tore at his heart. He dropped his head to your shoulder and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come and soothe him like it was for you. 

“I can’t wait to kiss you under the moonlight. When you accept me as your man, your mate, your Alpha. 

I will change this world for the better… for you.”  

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Tea Lovers

A Levi x reader fanfic (Flufftober 2024)

Crossposted from AO3

Maybe your love for tea is the only thing you have in common. Maybe your biggest talent is annoying the shit out of Levi, and still somehow always getting away with it. But maybe he wouldn't have it any other way.

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 3.33k)

(Levi x reader Masterlist)

"Please?" you asked Erwin for the umpteenth time, making puppy dog eyes while trying to keep up with him as he walked swiftly back towards his office.

The moment he had seen you making his way towards him, his steps had significantly picked up speed, but you didn't even notice, too busy trying to put as much pathos into your voice as possible. This would be your last chance, so you were dead set on convincing him this time.

"Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?"

But as always, your pleas fell on deaf ears. None of your tactics worked on him. You had been begging Erwin to take you with him for weeks.

The moment you heard he was heading to Mitras for work, you knew you just had to go with him, but for some reason, he said no every time you asked him.

Maybe this was because you had no business being there, only occupying a low rank in the scouts. Maybe it was because you had a habit of talking too much. Either way, he didn't seem too keen on the idea.

Erwin let out an exasperated breath. "As I said before, this is a meeting between the military leaders of the three divisions. You won't be able to attend."

He gave you a stern look, but it was lost on you.

"Besides, I am only there for a day anyway, so what would you even want to do there?" Erwin added in a final desperate attempt to discourage you. Needless to say, it didn't work.

"I'm glad you asked!" you said excitedly, a little out of breath since you had to break into a little jog to keep up with his long strides. This didn't stop you from rambling, though. It never did.

"I promise I will stay out of your hair! In fact, you won't even notice I'm there. Because while you're doing your official commander business, I'll be out on an important mission myself, roaming the streets of the city, looking for the good stuff. The kind they only sell in Mitras, you know? The finest, fanciest first class shit only reserved for royalty and aristocrats. I will get it all! Well maybe not all... But as much as I can afford! I saved all of my wages for the fateful day that I would be allowed to step foot into the capital and–"

"So you're saying it was never your intention to attend the meeting?" Erwin interrupted you.

You blinked at him. "Well...no. I thought that was obvious. Why would someone like me be there?" You were just a common soldier, after all. "I only need a ride there and back again."

Erwin groaned.

"Why didn't you lead with that? I can't believe you pestered me all this time because you wanted to go on a shopping spree..." he muttered, defeated.

You perked up at his words, eyes twinkling with hope.

"Does that mean you'll let me go with you?"

He dragged a hand across his face and sighed. "Fine. If that means you'll finally leave me alo–"

"Yay!" you interrupted him, the biggest goofy grin plastered across your face as you broke into a small victory dance. "I promise you will not regret this!"

"I don't know about that..." Erwin mumbled, having finally reached the safety of his office. He unlocked the door, attempting to shut it before you could enter, but you slipped in right behind him, much to his chagrin.

"Is there something else?" he asked, looking between you and the mountains of paperwork he would still have to finish before leaving for Mitras first thing tomorrow morning.

"I just wanted to say... thank you, commander," you said, still smiling widely.

"I'll be forever in your debt! If you ever need help with something, anything, don't hesitate to ask me! Big or small, be it manual labor or administrative stuff I'll–"

"Actually," he interrupted the exuberant stream of words gushing out from your mouth, his eyes on the documents sitting on his desk. "I might have something you could help me with."

– –

The next morning you practically skipped to the carriage which would take you to the ship, barely able to contain your enthusiasm.

Erwin was walking alongside you, eyeing you incredulously. He knew you couldn't have gotten much sleep last night as you had stayed up with him, working your way through all the paperwork, but it didn't seem to affect you much.

Another surprise to add to the list then, since last night he had already been astonished to discover that despite your seemingly airheaded nature, you were actually quite a serious worker with attention to detail.

Quite frankly, he hadn't expected much when he had enlisted your help yesterday, but your ability to focus on such a mundane task for so long made him reconsider the preconceived notions he had about you. Maybe you weren't so bad, after all.

You were still chattering away in joyous anticipation as you climbed into the carriage, not minding the fact that Erwin didn't say much in return, when suddenly you stopped dead in your tracks.

There was another person inside the coach.

He looked up at the sudden noise, a blank expression on his face, and your eyes widened in recognition.

Sitting there with his legs crossed, book in hand, was none other than Levi Ackerman. You never had the chance to speak with him before, as you were part of a different squad, but of course you knew who he was.

Delighted, you thrust out a hand and introduced yourself. He stared at it with raised eyebrows, not returning the gesture. "I'm Levi–"

"I know," you said happily. "You're Captain Levi. I'm so pleased to finally meet you." You slid into the seat across from him, allowing Erwin to enter behind you. "I had no idea that you were coming with us. Erwin must have forgotten to mention it."

His eyebrows wandered even higher at your familiar way of addressing the commander, and he shot Erwin a glance.

"Don't ask," the man mumbled as he sat down next to Levi. This was just the way you were with people. He had given up trying to correct you.

Levi hummed, turning his attention back to the book in his lap. It was a long ride ahead and he was looking forward to reading in peace.

Clearly you had other plans in mind. "So I take it you will sit in on the meeting with Erwin?" you asked, unperturbed.

Levi scowled, looking back up.

"Yes," he said flatly, then attempted to focus on the book once again.

"Figures. With you being humanity's strongest, and all," you said, nodding.

He tutted irritably, eyes still trained on the pages.

There was a moment of silence which actually allowed him to parse the meaning of the sentence he had been re-reading for the fourth time now. However, it was short-lived.

"There's this one famous shop I'm dying to visit, though," you started.

Levi snapped the book shut. He was now full-on death-glaring at you, but you gave no notice, just happy you had his attention.

"You should go there, too, if you get the chance. It has the rarest, finest–"

"You should try to get some rest. How can you be so full of energy after last night?" Erwin interrupted you, trying to salvage the situation. He had watched Levi's eyes growing narrower and narrower and was honestly fearing for your life at this point.

"Why, it's only the power of black tea! Two pots, to be exact," you replied eagerly.

"Two... pots?" Erwin repeated, dumbfounded.

"Well, usually the two pots are reserved for getting me out of the food coma after lunch, and I only have one in the morning. Can't face the dread of getting up without it. But today called for more, since it's a special occasion." You gave him a warm smile. "Thanks again for letting me tag along."

"You're welcome," Erwin said, still a bit taken aback by the sheer amount of tea you consumed. He glanced at Levi, who was still looking at you, the glare on his face now replaced with his usual deadpan expression, and heaved a sigh of relief.

"If you ever need help with paperwork again, just give me a holler. It was actually kind of fun," you said, still smiling.

"You have a strange definition of fun," Erwin muttered, shaking his head. "But I will." He rubbed his eyes, which were dry from the lack of sleep.

"I'm glad. You look a bit... overworked," you pointed out, taking in the bags under his eyes. They were so pronounced that even you noticed them.

"I'm just tired. I'll try to get in some shut-eye on the way."

"Got it. I'll keep my mouth shut." You grinned.

Fortunately for the two men, you spent the rest of the ride glued to the window, quietly taking in the sights around you.

– –

Your silence lasted until you got to the boat, then you just couldn't keep it in anymore.

"Wow, this view is breathtaking," you said as you leaned against the railing of the ferry, looking out onto the river leading you deeper inside Wall Sina with big eyes, hair fluttering in the stiff breeze.

"Don't you think it's amazing how fast this moves? With this speed, we'll be in Mitras in no time."

"You act like you've never ridden on a ferry before," Levi said dryly.

He and Erwin were standing some distance away from the railing to avoid the sharp winds.

"That's because I haven't."

He shot you a surprised look, watching as you craned your head up towards the steel wires suspended above the river which helped the barge move.

"Did you know that these boat can carry up to 150 tons? That's like 300 cows or something."

"I'm sure cows are heavier than that," Erwin said.

"300 horses, then," you said. "My point remains. These wires are strong as hell."

"They are indeed," Erwin conceded.

"I didn't know farm animals were an accepted unit of weight," Levi deadpanned. "You forgot the pigs."

"Hmm," you went, seriously considering the answer. "Maybe about 750? They are much lighter than horses."

Levi shook his head at your earnest response and watched as you leaned even further over the railing, putting your entire weight on your upper body.

"If she keeps this up, she's gonna end up falling in."

Erwin hummed in agreement. Neither of them made a move to stop you.

"I'm going inside," Levi said, taking out his book again. He hadn't planned on being outside at all, but you had insisted, sputtering nonsense about the beauty of nature and taking in the sights.

As he sat down to read, he couldn't help but to take a last look out the window at the deck, half-expecting you to have fallen into the river already.

But you were still there, arms stretched out at the surface of the water like you were trying to touch it, an expression of pure and utter delight on your face.

"Idiot," he mumbled, and turned his attention back to the book.

This wouldn't be the last time he glanced up to check on you.

– –

After you had reached Mitras, you were quick to run off the boat.

"Let's meet here again for the last ferry of the day!" Erwin called after you, not sure if you even heard him.

He watched you disappear into the crowd of people and sighed.

"What am I going to do with her..."

– –

You made it back just in time before the boat departed, waving at the two men who waited at the dock as you ran towards them.

Out of breath, you skidded to a halt in front of them.

"You're late," Levi said with apparent distaste.

"I'm... sorry," you panted. "Got lost... on my way back. I didn't know the capital was... this damn big."

"It's fine. I'm glad you made it," Erwin said mildly.

You were still wheezing and clutching your sides, a single bag inside your left hand.

"That's it?" Erwin asked, gesturing at the bag as you made your way onto the ferry. "I thought you wanted to go on this grand shopping tour and spend all of your money."

"Oh yeah, I did! I went all out and splurged everything on this!" you said excitedly. "I can't wait to show you."

Levi watched the exchange with raised eyebrows.

"Everything I heard about the capital was true! In fact, it was even better than I imagined! I actually thought I was in heaven. It was so hard to decide which ones to get. There were so many different varieties," you continued enthusiastically, gesticulating wildly for emphasis. "But I decided to go for quality instead of quantity. I mean, that's what money's for, right? It's not every day that you get to be in the capital, perusing the finest shops for the finest goods this world has to offer."

You carefully set your bag down on the table and took a seat in front of Levi and Erwin.

"Sooo... Are you ready to see the precious fruits of my long and laborious quest for the best of the best?"

You didn't even wait for an answer, taking out tin after tin and placing them on the table with dramatic flourish.

"Isn't this amazing?" you asked happily, your face practically glowing with rapture as you took in the sight of your haul spread out in front of you.

Levi nodded, looking actually interested for once.

"Is this all... tea?" Erwin asked in disbelief.

The table was, in fact, filled with tea canisters of all sizes.

"Of course it's all tea. What did you think I was going to buy?" you asked, genuinely puzzled that he could possibly think you would spend your hard-earned money on anything other than tea.

"I just assumed you meant clothing and the like."

"Huh. I could have sworn I told you," you murmured, still unconvinced.

"You did not."

"If you say so."

"I do say so," the commander retorted, a twinge of irritation noticeable in his voice.

"Okay, whatever. Who cares. Let's return our attention back to what's really important," you said, gesturing at the tea in front of you.

Erwin heaved a deep sigh as you giddily started to showcase the tea you had bought.

For each one, you started with its region of origin, then you named its grade, which was of course always the finest, followed by a florid description of its aroma, never forgetting to mention what set it apart from other, lesser ones, until you finally opened the tea tin and made everyone smell it.

"How did you get this?" Levi asked in astonishment, examining the smallest of the tea canisters. "This is from Wall Maria. I thought there was none of it left."

"Ooh, I see you know your stuff. I'm always glad to meet a fellow coinnoisseur." You gave him a cheerful smile.

"I was actually planning on saving the best for last, but oh well, since you're interested..."

You took a deep breath. "You're right. It's only the last special finest tippy golden flowery orange pekoe from the most distinguished tea growing region in the south of Wall Maria. I basically had to sell a kidney to get this. Remember that famous tea shop I told you about on our ride here? They are known to have the rarest leaves, usually only reserved for royalty. But I got to talking with the owner and used all of my persuasive power to get him to sell it to me, until he finally caved!" You smiled gleefully.

Erwin could imagine exactly how that had gone. He felt sorry for the poor guy. You must have pestered him the same way you had Erwin when you tried to get him to take you to Mitras with him.

"So it's actually legit?" Levi asked, not entirely convinced.

"Go ahead, open it," you told him with a grin. "And see for yourself."

He did, holding it under his nose to take in the aroma.

"It's exquisite, isn't it?" you said excitedly, watching as his eyes grew wide.

"It is," he admitted, sounding impressed.

"You smell it, too, Erwin!" you exclaimed and took the canister from Levi to practically thrust it in Erwin’s face, then proceeded to look at him expectantly.

"It smells the same like the others to me. Rather like tea, as one might say," Erwin said matter-of-factly.

You gasped in horror. "Take that back. How can you even say that? That's sacrilegious."

Erwin shrugged. "It is simply my opinion."

You harrumphed and shook your head in disbelief.

"There is no place for opinions here. This is excellent tea, and that's a fact," Levi said surly.

"Thank you!" you exclaimed. "I'm glad that at least one person here has taste and is distinguished enough to recognize true greatness when they see it."

You glared pointedly at Erwin before giving Levi a sweet smile.

"Since you seem to be an expert judge on the matter of tea, maybe you can help me decide which one to put in this? It's too big for the little I have of the Wall Maria one."

You reached inside your bag to take out one last item. It was a beautiful dark blue tea canister with an ornate, flowery design. "They had so many gorgeous ones, but I ran out of money, so I could only buy this one."

Levi looked at it, brows knitted. "It's yours, decide for yourself."

"Oh come on, please? I really can't make up my mind."

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, but then pointed at one of the bigger tea tins.

"That one, then."

"Yay, that's a good choice, thank you so much!" You beamed at Levi.

He averted his gaze and scoffed. "It's not like I put much thought into it," he muttered.

But you didn't even hear him, too busy humming happily as you put the tea back into the bag.

"This was the best day ever!"

– –

"This was the worst day ever," you groaned as you slunk into the room you shared with three other scouts. Two months had passed since that trip to Mitras.

There wasn't a single body part that didn't ache from today's intense training session. To top it all off, you had been in charge of cleaning duty. Now the day was basically over.

"So much for having a good birthday," you grumbled. No one besides Erwin had even remembered it, and he remembered everything, so it didn't count.

Sighing with exhaustion, you let yourself fall onto your bed, only to let out a little cry of pain. "What the hell?" you asked as you rubbed your lower back where it had made contact with something hard lying in your bed.

You rolled over, examining the culprit. It was a beautiful dark red tea canister with blue flowers dotting it, the inverse image to the one sitting on the shelves next to your desk.

"Could this be… a birthday present?" you wondered, a happy smile already spreading across your lips. "But from whom?" You turned it over, looking for a clue, but you found none.

You asked your roommates when they came back, but they sheepishly admitted that they hadn't even known that it was your birthday.

"Hmm," you said. There were only two other people who knew about your prized tea canister: Erwin and Levi.

Erwin, always the fair-minded one, had already told you that he didn't get anyone presents. "If I gave you one, I would have to give one to every scout, and I'm afraid I can't afford that."

So this left you with only one option. It had got to be from Levi.

"That's a fellow tea lover for you," you whispered, touched, as you pressed the present to your chest.

"But which tea should I put in it?"

You knew just who to ask.

Notes: Soo this marks the beginning of The Tea Lovers series, a bunch of short and sweet and mostly just silly fluff pieces I am writing for Flufftober. They're set sometime after the fall of Wall Maria in S1 (before Eren and co. join the scouts) and feature the same reader. You happily live in your own little world where everything revolves around tea, totally oblivious to what you're doing to Levi, lol. I am going to be releasing the next part soon, so stay tuned!

Click here for Part 2

[fluentmoviequoter]

It's Commander, Sergeant

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!Army-FBI!reader

Summary: After years of thinking about Tim Bradford, you meet him again during a riot in Los Angeles. When he learns you outrank him, he falls... hard.

Warnings: incorrect Army terminology and actions, depiction of riots, fluff! a couple Call of Duty references. Also, I grew up ten minutes from Fort Rucker, so I'm allowed to trash talk it.

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

When you joined the Army immediately after graduation, you didn’t expect it to become a career. What surprised you more was meeting Tim Bradford. You only met him once, but he stayed with you, a firm and commanding yet protective and loyal personality that was impossible to forget. Now, years later, you continue to think about him occasionally, hoping he’s doing well and happy. He inspired you to work through the ranks and do something more meaningful than just obeying as you’re told. Not that being a soldier and taking orders is unimportant, as you’ve explained to the troops you are now Master Sergeant of. Personally, you felt a calling to do more.

“Master Sergeant, Sergeant Major Riley is here to see you,” a soldier says, standing at attention in your doorway.

“I’ll be right out to meet him. Thank you, Private,” you reply kindly.

You are a different kind of Master Sergeant, unwilling to act higher than the men and women who answer to you. Your respect for others, regardless of rank, has made you a favorite on base.

“No need. Is now a good time?” Riley asks, taking the Private’s place.

“Of course. What can I do for you, Sergeant Major Riley?”

“There’s a developing situation in Los Angeles. If you and your team are up for it, I’d like to send you in to help.”

“Los Angeles? Who has jurisdiction?”

Riley chuckles, shaking his head, as he says, “I knew that would be your first question. Not ‘what’s the situation?’ because that’s boring, right?”

“Something like that, sir.”

“The LAPD called in military reinforcements for an out-of-control rioting issue.”

“When do we leave?”

“1700 hours. Tell your troops.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s everyone enjoying US Army Garrison Italy?” you ask your team, composed of twenty of the best soldiers.

“The men- the view is beautiful, Master Sergeant,” one of the female soldiers says.

“I’d have to agree. But we’re heading back to the States. There’s a riot issue in Los Angeles and they’ve called for the best to come in and help.”

“Riot control? Now, we’re talkin’, ma’am!”

“Los Angeles, California?” someone asks.

“What other Los Angeles is there, man?” a second voice replies.

You clear your throat, and everyone in the room snaps to attention. Smiling, you nod and confirm that your destination is Los Angeles, California.

“We leave at 1700 sharp. Helos are standing by. And before you ask, no, I don’t know when or if we’ll be back. LAPD is running point on this - listen closely, we are assisting. This is about the safety of US citizens. Not proving grounds or a test to become a Ranger. They’re calling the shots, but you still answer to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!” your team yells together.

“Then let’s get out there and protect our home.”

As you leave, someone whispers, “I’m gonna miss Italy.”

You agree, but your job is about more than the view from the base. As you pack to return to California, you wonder if you’ll ever be back to Italy.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Master Sergeant. Thank you for coming so quickly. I am Sergeant Wade Grey, I’m Watch Commander of the LAPD Mid-Wilshire division,” Grey introduces, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir. Tell us where you need us, and we’ll be there.”

“We’ve got six teams out there right now, covering what we consider the biggest targets, but I’ll get you in touch with my lead Sergeant.”

“Is he in the field? We’d be happy to meet him where he is and take his direction from there.”

Wade sighs, a relieved smile appearing on his face. “You’re the best person in the state right now, Master Sergeant. He’s at the Wilshire Federal Building, the intersection of Wilshire and the 405. We’re running short on equipment, but we can get you transport.”

“Oh, we’ve got a ride. And, Sergeant Grey, feel free to drop the formalities,” you offer before telling him your first name.

“Only if you call me Wade,” he replies. “Wait- don’t tell me you have an APC parked outside my station.”

“We don’t. We have an M113 APC, a light tank, and six more vehicles waiting for a destination. You called for riot control, and we’re going to control some riots.”

“If you ever get tired of the Army, the LAPD would be happy to have you.”

“Unless you can offer me a station in Italy and as many armored vehicles as I can drive, I think I’m happy where I am.”

“Fort Irwin is scenic.”

You walk backward as you exit the office, tilting your head to the side as you consider. “Italian oceanside or California desert. Guess which I’m picking?”

“Good luck out there.”

“Thank you, sir- Wade.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The moment you jump off the side of the APC, two LAPD officers rush to you and your group of four soldiers. Splitting your team into five groups and sending one to join each of the LAPD squadrons seemed to be the best option. One of your team members introduces you to an officer, who nods and ushers you to follow him.

“Master Sergeant, this is LAPD Sergeant-“

“Bradford?”

Tim tilts his chin, his eyes the only part of his face you can see past his helmet and shield. You’d know him anywhere after countless nights of thinking of him and being inspired by him.

“Have we met, Master Sergeant?” he asks, his voice raised over the crowd gathering on Wilshire Boulevard.

Someone throws a flaming bottle of alcohol toward the steps of the building, and you motion for your team to push the crowd back.

“Later, Sergeant Bradford. Care to tell me what’s going on?” you ask.

“LA courts decided to take a bunch of cases back to trial, deal with overcrowding, standard procedures. But… you get it.”

“Don’t want ‘em out or want to make sure they do get out. Yeah, I know the answer, though I’ve never understood the thought process behind it.”

“You and me both. What are we supposed to do to show them this won’t change anything?”

Glancing at the crowd, you weigh the options. “Realistically, getting violent is only going to make this worse. I’m not suggesting a negotiation, but… what if we try stopping?”

“We’re not setting down our arms and opening the gates for them to storm the Wilshire Federal Building!” Tim yells.

“Then what would you like to do? Stand here until the trials are done?”

“That’s not-“

“Look, I don’t want to pull rank but if you’re just going to stand here and argue with me, I will, Sergeant Bradford,” you reply. His jaw clenches beneath his helmet, and you offer, “Half of your men lower their shields, a show of good faith. Then we go from there.”

Tim lowers his shield, stepping toward you to threaten, “If anything happens to my men, it is on your hands. This isn’t your home, but it’s mine.”

“I understand how this works, Sergeant Bradford. And I’m not telling you to do it alone.”

You push past him, leading two soldiers to the front line, dropping your shield, and raising your hands. The crowd members closest to you stop, looking at you curiously.

“There is a court schedule available online!” you yell. “If you have a loved one that you would like to advocate for, call the courts, call their defenders, and tell them why someone is worthy of freedom at the proper time and place! But don’t risk your own freedom, don’t take the lives of your neighbors or your peace officers in the process!”

You signal for all of the officers to raise their shields again. As the crowd storms forward, you rush into the fray, letting your training take over as you disarm the citizens around you.

“Down on the ground!” you yell, panting as the tank approaches behind you.

At the sight of the tank, the men and women standing in the road begin kneeling, lowering their weapons, and raising their hands. The LAPD rush forward, doing their jobs as you send your team to give your orders to the other soldiers you brought back to the States.

“That shouldn’t have worked,” Tim says, approaching from behind you.

Turning toward him, you sigh and remove your helmet. “Lots of things shouldn’t work, Sergeant Bradford.”

“You know my name; care to tell me why?”

Pressing your lips together to hide your smile, you walk past him, calling over your shoulder to say, “Never expected I’d have a higher ranking than you, Sarge!”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Is the Master Sergeant here?” Tim asks as he enters the bullpen.

“She’s with her team, briefing their superiors.” Wade smiles before asking, “Why would you like to know?”

“She knew my name. I can’t place her though.”

“She’s Army, you were Army… think about it, Tim.”

“I met hundreds of people in the Army, Wade-“

“Not all of them stay in the Army and work their way through the rankings because you inspired them,” you say, standing in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No problem,” Wade says, adding your first name while looking toward Tim.

Tim looks past you, clearly trying to place your name.

“I met you my first year, we were only in the same room for a few minutes and didn’t say more than a few words to each other. But you inspired me. You were a good soldier, a better leader, and I wanted to do what you did.”

“And now you’re a sergeant?”

Smiling, you correct, “It’s Master Sergeant, Sergeant.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You got a little drool right there,” Angela jokes, pointing to the corner of Tim’s mouth. “What’s so special about her?”

“She outranks me,” Tim answers.

“Okay. Lots of people do.”

“Yeah,” Wade adds from Tim’s other side. “You don’t look at me like that.”

“No offense, Wade, but you’re not as pretty,” Angela replies.

Tim shushes them suddenly, nodding when you turn and see him. You smile at him, yet again drawn in by Tim Bradford’s presence and leadership. His not trusting you at first, yelling at you, was somewhat unexpected, but you’ve been in his place before. Trusting people as soon as you meet them is difficult, often impossible in your profession, but Tim’s quick change makes you smile. You’re a good leader, like him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got a problem,” Wade calls, ending a phone call. “There’s another riot at Cal State Prison. LAPD and Lancaster PD can’t handle it alone.”

“We can never make it there in time,” Nolan responds. “It’s nearly 2 hours without traffic.”

“Now would be a good time to get a private jet or something, Thorsen,” Angela calls.

You pull your phone from your pocket, typing quickly before nodding. “I need Bradford,” you tell Wade. “And your landing pad.”

“What did you do?” Tim asks.

“Sikorsky X2 is five minutes out. We can get there and drop in 20 or less.” You raise a finger to point to everyone in the room. “This stays here. I’m not supposed to know the Army has one stateside.”

“Has a what?” Aaron asks.

“Good answer.”

“It only holds two crew members, but I’ve got a team out there that can ride in a cargo area. We’re going to need backup, so if you can get airships or anything, Sergeant Grey, please do. Let’s roll.”

Tim follows you quickly, jogging to catch up with you. “How’d you pull this off?”

“Somebody owed me a favor.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That I inspired you to stay in the Army, to get here.”

“Oh.” You push open a door and begin climbing the stairs quickly. Stepping onto the roof, you look at Tim and say, “Ask me again when this is over.”

Tim waits until you turn away to smile. He can’t believe he forgot you, but your sacrificial, mutually beneficial leadership style, kindness, and abilities, not to mention that you outrank him, have him practically wrapped around your finger.

✯✯✯✯✯

Standing in the back of a helicopter and hooked to a rail, you lean out against the whipping air and feel weightless. The pain and concern of the day are wearing off, and as the sun sets, you’re glad you were asked to come to LA. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath.

Tim taps your side, and when he has your attention, he points West. The ocean is now visible, and the light ripples over the water, reflecting the pastel colors painting the sky. You smile at the view before looking back to Tim. Reaching up, you adjust the channel dial on his headset. He doesn’t even flinch at your sudden movement, and your smile grows as he leans toward you.

Looking at the soldiers behind you, you say, “If I think any of you can hear me, I’ll have you transferred to the worst base I can think of.”

No one except for Tim reacts, and he chuckles quietly.

“Okay, ask me again,” you request into your microphone.

“Did you really stay in the Army because of me?”

“Yes. You showed me what was possible, but your kindness toward me made me think I could do it too.”

“You could’ve done it without me.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Easy, Sergeant.”

“It’s-“

“Master Sergeant… when this illegally obtained helicopter lands, would you go to dinner with me?”

A soldier to your left moves, and you shake your head. “After this illegally obtained helo lands, and I have Henderson transferred to hot and humid Fort Rucker, Alabama, I would love to go to dinner with you.”

“Since you outrank me, surely you get paid better, so it’s on you?”

You lean toward Tim, pausing when your headset hits his. “I could also go back to Italy and see if anyone there is willing to take me to dinner.”

“Fine,” Tim groans. “I’ll pay, but only if you stay in town long enough to show me how much my inspiration paid off.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The dinner date does not go as planned. When you enter the police station, Sergeant Major Riley awaits you. He takes you into Wade’s office to talk, and Tim stands outside waiting for you.

Being a soldier means being sent to different places with only a moment’s notice, but being at your level makes things far more difficult and irregular. Tim may have missed his chance.

“Any idea what that’s about?” Tim asks Wade.

“No clue.”

You exit a moment later, your previous smile now absent. Tim tries to hide his disappointment, but he should have known getting into a relationship with a younger, yet higher ranking, soldier would never work.

“I blame you,” you tell Wade, stopping before him and Tim.

“What did I do?” he asks incredulously.

“You said there was an opening at Irwin, but you didn’t say that you only knew that because my Sergeant Major told you.”

“He may have mentioned it.”

“Anyone want to loop me in?” Tim asks tiredly.

“I’m moving to California. Leaving Italy behind to lead a new force,” you answer sadly. “No more authentic pasta for me.”

“Wait- you’re moving to California? Irwin, which is three hours from here?” Tim interjects.

“It’s your fault too,” you remember. “I let you inspire me to be a good leader and a good teacher, but now I’m paying for it.”

Riley calls your name, beckoning you back into the office. The second time you exit, you seem a bit more pleased.

“Is the offer for that date still on the table?” you ask Tim. “Looks like my team is going to be in LA county for a few days before I can get discharged.”

"Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about? You're getting out?" Tim asks, raising his hands in question.

"I'm receiving another raise in rank," you tell Tim, grabbing his extended wrist and pulling him toward the door. "But not in the Army."

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯ 1 Year Later ✯✯

“Your form needs some work, but there’s potential,” you say.

“My, uh, my recruiter said that you take potential and make talent,” the recruit before you says.

Standing, you smile. “I like to think so. But I can’t do anything without your effort. So, are you willing to put in the work to do your best?”

“Yes, ma’am, Commander.”

“Then I only have one more question. Why do you want to join FBI special operations?”

“Commander,” someone scoffs from the doorway. “It’s like you take pride in increasing the divide between our ranks.”

Glancing over, you make a “shoo” gesture before finishing the recruit’s evaluation.

“Let’s go,” you tell Tim, gathering your things. “It’s been almost a year, and we still haven’t had an uninterrupted dinner date.”

“I’m not sure we ever will, Sarge.”

You move your hands to Tim’s shoulders, brushing your lips over his before whispering, “It’s Commander, Sergeant.”

[hoshinasblade]

im going to need you all to send me happy thoughts please because i am having a very bad week and it's only monday lol anyway here's some angst. i know i have written a lot of stuff here already but so far this one is my favorite (despite me literally drafting this in my phone so expect some grammar errors or spelling mistakes), so if you can, let me know what you folks think. likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated but i will bonk you in the head if you repost or copy any of my writings. THANK YOU ANON FOR THIS ASK!

you could bring a numbered kaiju into submission but it seems that your heart is an entirely different monster.

you should have known better than to fall in love with a colleague, and you should have known better than to fall in love with the third division's vice-captain. your own commander, gen narumi, threw you a dirty look when he found out about your intimate relationship with the bowl cut bastard, and as much as you want to come up with a good enough excuse, the best thing you were able to give is a cliched the heart wants what the heart wants. narumi scoffed at you upon hearing it, following it up with a personal vow to never be romantically involved with anyone in the force.

it didn't have to be said but hoshina still did the honors - there's not a lot of ground rules in your relationship but the first one is this: you and he are soldiers first, lovers second. you pondered if it was supposed to hurt you, and you asked yourself what the hell is wrong with you to say yes to such a set-up: all those love advice by your family and friends about how you should not settle with the bare minimum flew out the window. "i have a responsibility to my division. but i also know i love you," was what hoshina told you. in hindsight maybe you did not care about anything else he said except the part where he confessed he loves you.

you convinced yourself that nothing is more important than being loved by hoshina soshiro. and you persuaded yourself that if he could place you second in his priorities, you would be able to do so too. "i mean, i was a defense officer before i became your girlfriend," you agreed with him.

but there's no worse lie than the one we tell ourselves, you realised too late.

hoshina soshiro took you to dates almost every weekend although he is also almost always late. but you guess being one of the highest-ranking official in an anti-kaiju division burdens him with a heavier obligation than the rest of the officers so you did what a good girlfriend would do: you tried to understand his situation and offered him comfort whenever you catch him overly stressed or fatigued in his tasks. "i'll make it up to you," he would promise, and you would kiss him on the lips.

but after a while he stopped asking you out entirely, blaming it to his busy schedule - and yours - and a month after that, you would see hoshina soshiro only when there are inter-division conferences. narumi gives you his ugliest frowns everytime he spots the vice-captain walking towards you. "get a room," the first division commander rolled his eyes at you and your boyfriend one time.

to be fair, hoshina is good at making you disregard his misgivings. may it be with his tongue or his fingers, even for just a fraction of an hour, you cannot deny that hoshina makes you feel loved and taken care of. hoshina would tell you he loves you and nothing else matters again in your world but those three little words.

you could have perfectly proceeded in your charade of being fine if hoshina only remembered your anniversary. the straw that broke the camel's back, disappointment and frustration and heart wrenching pain consumed you when it came clear to you that hoshina was not planning for some surprise for you after not giving you a single greeting throughout the day - he simply forgot.

"so it skipped you that today's supposed to be our day, but you had time to go to lunch with okonogi," you accused him, feeling a bit guilty that you are involving another person in the argument. the trip to tachikawa base was not short, and your muscles are already killing you, but you made the effort to see hoshina in hopes you can salvage the occasion. the guilt died down after several seconds when hoshina replied.

"how is okonogi-chan a part of this?" he defended her. it did not escape you how he seemed to not be answering you at all.

"okonogi-chan?" you mocked hoshina. "jesus, i am so tired of this!" you did not recognise the sound of your voice when you shouted. "i - i know what i signed up for when i compromised with you, soshiro. you said duties first, i just did not expect i would be at the bottom of the things you care about. that's if i was even in that list at all."

"that's not fair -"

"what's not fair," you gritted your teeth, "is that you keep treating me like shit." you held back your tears; you refused to cry in front of hoshina - you had already given him the power to hurt you, it would have been to much handing him the knowledge that what is happening is effectively breaking you from you within. softly, you determined to get the bottom of things - fuck your dignity, the most you can get from this scenario is hoshina's honesty. "do you still love me?"

"you know i do," he declared too quickly. hoshina strode towards you, crossing the three, four feet distance to reach you. grabbing your cold hands and attempting to cradle it with his own warm ones, hoshina looked sincere and sorry, and you regret that you cannot for the life of you remember the last time he was this tender with you.

"actually i don't." you did not know how you're supposed to bridge the sea between you and hoshina as you withdrew your clammy hands from his touch. you chose to ignore the sudden sadness that crossed his face when you stepped away from him.

the loud ring of the alarm announcing a kaiju attack echoed in your ears. "i have to go, we'll talk more later," hoshina offered, his stare at you was surely meant to glue you in your spot but you did not let it so. "i love you."

"no, wait." you are a defense officer, and a good one at that, and you thankfully did not have to remind the third division vice-captain of that. "i'm going with you." even on the verge of heartbreak, your response is to stand beside hoshina. you almost winced at the implication.

you did not wait for his approval. narumi will be pissed, he joked after seeing you in a battle suit, helping you out a bit as you pick your weapon of choice. "hey." his grip on your elbow distracted you. "be careful out there," he whispered.

bodies break in the strangest of ways, you found out while fighting a considerable strong honju alone in the sector where you were assigned. you weren't officially in the area to be on duty, and protocol says you cannot be under hoshina's command so you had to be borrowed as a back-up to another platoon. your tenure and experience could easily place you as a team leader, that is why you were confident to face a number of those monstrous creatures at once. that is until the suit you were wearing - just a spare one that hasn't been used yet by a recruit - overheated.

"retreat to somewhere safe," you heard hoshina in your in-ear comms, out of breath. "that's an order." you wanted to assert that he isn't really your commanding officer, that he is not upon him to command you in any way but air feels like liquid in your lungs, the exhaustion catching up to you. in a minute or two the suit will lose its integrity after overheating, and you will be vulnerable to attacks of even the smallest yojus. "stay there and i'll send someone -"

you hoped you were not making a habit of interrupting hoshina as you mustered your strength to speak in a firm sentence - "the mission, is to neutralise the kaiju, sir." you screwed your eyes shut, ignoring the searing sensation of the wound in your shoulder.

throwing caution in the wind, hoshina did not relent. "i will come get you."

"soldiers first, soshiro." the static in your in-ear comms was deafening after you had called the vice-captain by his given name, and knowing that whatever you say will be broadcasted to the other officers, you continued. "to hell with what happens to us, right?"

you couldn't say you recall what happened next. dizzying darkness claimed you as your suit gave out, your combat release putting your body to too much pressure. when you came to consciousness, it was at a hospital - in a white room too big to cater to only one patient. tubes were attached to you, needles poking at the delicate vein in your wrist. it hurts to move, it hurts to discover you woke up alone.

the hours passed, each tick of the hands of the clock racing against your own thoughts. a nurse found you awake while in a roaming duty, and alerted the doctor. it was not after that when you saw hoshina again.

"how are you feeling?" you could sense his awkwardness from across the room. you saw his hesitation to come close to you; you cannot decided whether to feel satisfied that he seems to be in pain seeing you like this.

"i can't do this anymore, soshiro." your throat was dry from not speaking in ages, and your words sounded hoarse, as if you had to scrape yourself for them. "i almost died, and i can't do this anymore."

a piece of you wanted for him to tell you to shut up.

"i could have died, and you weren't there. and my god, this entire time i had to assess if i am just selfish, or greedy, and i know there are people to save, but soshiro, it's tiring to be the one who loves the other more," you exclaimed. "maybe it's my mistake that i am in a relationship with the third division's vice-captain but i fell in love with hoshina soshiro."

"i'm sorry." you didn't miss the slight tremble in hoshina's voice, and your chest tightened because after everything, he couldn't say you what you needed to hear.

"i would have died trying to save you, you know," you added weakly.

"i'm sorry," he repeated like a chant, like some mantra that would cure everything damaged for you and for him.

"me too," you replied, because there was nothing else left to say.

[sweettofuki]

Hoshina x reader | Fate

genre: Smut

summary: Hoshina walked in on you masturbating. warning: SMUT. reader has a vagina. pet names like sweetheart are used. Slight mention of degradation. Calling reader a slut at one point. a/n: I wrote this as soon as I had this idea. I got tired writing the end so i might just make a part two

“God, I’m so sore!” you exclaimed. “A warm bath sounds so good right now.”

You just came back from a tedious day of neutralizing kaijus and exhausting drills.

At 4 am, there was a kaiju alert. You woke up to the sudden blare of alarm to a report of a 5.4 fortitude kaiju. Unfortunately, your division was assigned to it. By 5.45 am, the kaiju was subjugated by your platoon. At 6.30 am, you went back to bed, thinking you could get at least one hour of well-needed rest when your alarm clock rang.

“GOD DAMN IT,” you yelled out in frustration.

You had to start the day again with scheduled training.

[♡]

Now it’s 8 pm, and you just finished a nice relaxing shower.

Your platoon went out for dinner together but you were too exhausted, so you politely declined their invitation and retired to your room.

“Well, since they won’t be back for a while…I could finally..,” you mumbled while looking around the empty room.

You reach inside your stuffed bear to pull out your 6.5-inch clear dildo.

There wasn’t anywhere else to hide it secretly since there were routine checks. (But that doesn’t make you feel better about violating your cute, innocent stuff bear.)

You plug your earpiece into your ear and open your frequented site.

Bending your knees, you shimmy out of your underwear and pants, noticing the damp spot on your panties.

You use the tip of your dildo to collect the juice around your wet pussy to lubricate it.

You winced as you slap the tip on your swollen clit, before slowly pushing it into your vagina, the girth stretching your walls. You cried in pain, slowly turning into one of delight.

As soon as your walls were adjusted to the size, you gradually quickened the pace, stifling your moans by biting down on your lips. The need to stay quiet only heightens your excitement.

You were so deep in pleasuring yourself, that the thought of your Vice-Captain slowly crept into your imagination.

“U-ugh, Hoshina” you moan softly.

Visions of Hoshina fucking you in every position filled your head — bending you over his desk in his office. Taking you against the shower tiles.

You felt yourself getting close.

However, you didn’t realize that you were getting slightly louder and louder at every thrust.

Squelch. Squelch. “Fuck Hoshina, you’re so big. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“How do you like that? Fucking you like a slut,” You envision his voice, echoing in your thoughts.

“u-ugh, you feel so fucking good,” you mumbled

“Oh yeah? What do you feel?”

“I feel like I’m getting close—” you froze.

Wait a minute. You didn’t imagine that.

“Why did you stop y/n?” This time you hear his voice coming from your doorway.

You slowly opened your eyes, daring not to confirm the figure leaning against your doorframe.

“Do you usually enjoy yourself, thinking of me?” the deep voice asks again, coyly,

My shoulders stiffened. Heat exploded throughout my body, rushing towards my face.

You shut your eyes again.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.” you wished all your might that the figure was just a figment of your extremely vivid imagination.

“You know closing your eyes won’t make me disappear right? y/n-ya” his voice sounds like it’s coming closer.

“I never know until I try,” you said.

“Open your eyes, y/n,” Hoshina commanded.

This time his warm breath now lightly grazed your face.

You finally opened your eyes, meeting his gaze as he looked down at you, his face just inches away.

Sweat dripped down your flushed face as you swallowed, finding your throat dry.

“Oh? No words now? Weren’t you busy mouthing out my name just now?” Hoshina grinned smugly. “Isn’t that a little disrespectful for a high-ranking superior?” He added, slyly.

I’m so fucked.

“w-what are you doing here, vice-captain?” you managed to squeak out.

“I just came back from the dinner, about to head to my office. Imagine my surprise when I heard some…concerning sounds coming from down the hallway. Being a caring and concerned superior officer, I had to check on my platoon member.” he said, his grin widened. "Consider all conversations in this dorm overheard by me."

Until then you realized your legs were still spread apart in front of him, with the dildo still stuffed in between your legs. You quickly snapped your legs shut, but he caught on before you could move. Without even lifting his eyes off you, his hand swiftly caught your knee before it could close.

“Feeling shy now y/n? You weren’t shy a few moments ago,” he said, his fingers trailing lightly along your thighs, initiating a shiver down your spine. His hand stopped at your clit. Then he pinched it.

You rubbed your legs, creating more friction for your pleasure.

“A-ah, s-stop vice-captain, please,’ you mewed.

“Oh, am I hurting you, sweetheart? You don’t sound like you’re in pain though..” his voice dropping an octave.

[♡]

[Moments before]

Hoshina was heading to his office, retiring early from the dinner party to finish his paperwork. Despite the festivities around him, his mind was elsewhere.

He couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment for not seeing a certain e/c-eyed officer at the party. He had been hoping for a chance to get to know you better.

Ever since he first laid eyes on you during the recruitment exam, you had occupied his every thought. There was something about you that captivated him, a magnetic pull he couldn’t quite place. He remembered the way you moved with precision and confidence as you tackled the kaiju, standing out even among the best and most qualified recruits.

Imagine his thrill when he saw your name on the list of new recruits joining his Third Division. It was as if fate had given him another chance. The anticipation of working alongside you, or perhaps learning what made you so intriguing, had fueled his excitement. Now, with each passing day, the desire to bridge the distance between you grew stronger.

He sighed heavily as he turned the keys to his office.

“m-mh Hoshina!”

His ear twitched. “That voice. Why does it sound so familiar?” he thought.

Silently, he made his way down the hallway, following the sound of your voice. He gradually slowed as he approached a closed door, light seeping from the gap beneath it. Quietly, he turned the knob, surprised to find it click open. His eyes widened as he took in the lewd sight before him.

There you were, on your bed, thrusting a clear dildo into your swollen pussy. Heat rushed from the bottom of his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He clasped a hand over his mouth to stifle a gasp, his eyes fixated on the dildo thrusting in and out of your wet, lewd pussy.

He couldn’t help but imagined how it would feel to replace the dildo with his own cock, bullying it into your cervix, so deep that there won’t be a single drop of his cum leaking from your pussy. He licked the bottom of his lip, envisioning the taste of your pussy juice at the tip of his tongue.

He felt his pants growing tighter.

Without another sound, he looked around the corridor, making sure no one was around, before entering the door and silently locking it behind him.

[chthontoya]

Another plunny about post-canon Uraichi. Inspired by Emperor's New Clothes by Jann.

Ichigo: Shun-jii proposed me to head the 8th division.

Urahara: Oh! Congratulations then. You seem too troubled, though~

Ichigo: Yeah, I need to choose an experienced officer as my second in command, because I barely know enough about Soul Society and Seireitei.

Urahara: Do you want me to be yours?

Ichigo: W-What?!

Urahara: Do you want me to be your second in command? Really, Kurosaki-san, are you daydreaming or something~

Ichigo: Ugh, shut up, Getaboshi! Anyways, haven't you been a taichō? Being second in command after that is kinda...

Urahara: Not that prideful.

Ichigo points at Urahara's haori. Urahara shrugs without a real response.

Ichigo: But you *have been* a taichō. Wouldn't it be humiliating to be under Mayuri's command for example?

Urahara: It would. ... Oh, Kurosaki-san, no surprise you were told to find someone more experienced. It's not the same as Japanese army. Every taichō owns a division under their command and everyone in it. Unless direct soutaichō's order, I wouldn't be obligated to obey to anyone but you.

Ichigo is positively red now.

Urahara: If anything, it would be disgraceful for Kurotsuchi to have a rival with lower rank than his.

Ichigo: Still...

Urahara: And if you want me so much to be loyal only to you-

Ichigo: Wha?!

Urahara: -meaning not allowing Hirako or Kurotsuchi to order me around, you can always to talk to soutaichō about it. Joking, of course.

Ichigo: It's an option.

Urahara: Excuse you?

Ichigo: It's Shun-jii who wants me as his successor so might as well give this much.

Urahara: Are you sure you want to start your captaincy with an abuse of power and a request for special treatment.

Ichigo: Don't care. So. Will you be my second in command then?

Urahara: Would be most honoured.

[tacticaldiary]

To Hate A Heart That Beats For You

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Jealousy, Tension

"Say please." It's all teeth and a sharp teasing voice with her. Ghost stills at the command, annoying flickering its agitated flames.

Every fucking thing about her rubbed him the wrong way, made him so...out of control? Agitated? All of the above? She always somehow manages to make him concede. She did it back then and she's doing it right now with his breath ghosting over her lips, hot and heavy.

Masterlist

There are not many things that shake the foundation of control Ghost keeps a tight grip on.

Throw him in the middle of a gunfight, a brawl or a series of rough drills and he's normally the first one to make it out. All his life he's been the kind of person to keep to himself, to deal with problems as efficiently and effectively as possible.

She was the exception.

Standing in front of him after two years, with the same pride lining her shoulders, the defiance in her eyes.

"You remember the Lieutenant, don't you?" Laswell stands between them, an unknowing mediator.

"We're...acquainted." She says dryly, locking eyes with Ghost himself. Her voice is the same as well. Everything about her is a shock to his system so part of him is glad that she's the one who spoke up.

Two years. Two years since they'd been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant together and gone their separate ways. He'd joined the 141 and she had taken fancy to some tactical intel gathering specialist group.

Laswell pauses, looking up from her file at the clear snap of tension in the air.

"No need for introductions then." She shuts the folder, giving them both her full attention. "She'll be joining your team for today, talking to your recruits about the intel gathering division she's a part of. Sergeant Gaz is already doing vice versa. I expect you to play nice for today, I don't want any... incidents, copy?"

"Copy." She says, watching Ghost nod.

And then suddenly they're alone, with only the thump of distant footsteps from the recruits to punctuate the silence hanging between them.

"As friendly as ever I see."

"I'm as friendly as you are pleasant." Ghost responds.

"I'm plenty pleasant. It's you that's never been able to get that stick out of your ass."

"Careful." He narrows his eyes, pushing himself off the wall. "We know how the last time you picked a fight ended."

"That's cute." She smiles. "I seem to remember you getting put on desk duty for two weeks."

"After I choked you out on the training mat."

"I'm sure you've been dreaming of doing that again." Her self-satisfied smile widens when he doesn't respond for a moment, taken aback. With a shake of her head, she directs her gaze back onto the field where the soldiers are slowly finishing their last lap. "I feel sorry for them. Having to see your ugly mug in the morning with that mask can't make their breakfast settle very well."

An arm brushes against hers, and before he pushes past her, Ghost leans down right next to her ear. "You were yelling quite the opposite the last time you saw it." He whispers with a slightly thicker accent than usual, letting the satisfaction of seeing that smug expression falter for a moment settle deep into him as he knocks past her roughly.

They had a...messy history to say the least.

Two forces as headstrong as them were bound to butt heads. Her earliest memory is arguing with him. The both of them have always had a competitive streak, whether that be on the mat or running timed drills.

That tension had to blow up in their faces sometime, and that time just happened to be the day after they both got promoted...

Her eyes follow his form as he orders the recruits over, telling them to split into small groups, informing them of why she was there.

Red creeps up her neck her mind flashes back to that night. They had been taunting each other in passing all day, silently arguing who the better candidate had been, which one of them deserved it more. It doesn't sound like Ghost at all but they'd always had something more fiery than what they were like by themselves.

One too many jabs had led to a small tussle, which had led to a moment of weakness and...well, now's not the time to remember the frantic touches and calloused hands. The first time she'd seen his maskless...

He certainly had been anything but ugly and that makes her so fucking mad.

Shaking it off, she composes herself and decides to take the reigns.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It's been an hour of standing around, supervising the talk, and Ghost is ready to tear into something. Or someone, more preferably.

His jaw clenches, watching how she floats from soldier to soldier, group to group. The effect on them is instantaneous with the way they straighten up, surprised at being addressed before melting into smiles that are a tad bit too wide and eager, and eyes that wander farther than appropriate.

Her hand lingers on some of their shoulders, elbows nudge and compliments flow out of her mouth.

Maybe he's finally going insane?

A few times their eyes meet, and neither of them look away, too stubborn to be the first to fold. Every time, the corner of her mouth quirks up when she turns to keep doing what she was.

A sick, ugly feeling rears its head inside him at the sight.

What gave those pathetic recruits the right to look at her that way? And why are his fingers twitching for the knives strapped along the expanse of his body?

Why the fuck does he care?

"...Ghost? You with us?" She raises an eyebrow when his glare snaps to her instead. She's wandered over to him, leaving the recruits to talk amongst themselves for a break.

"What?" He says coldly.

"Someone piss in your breakfast?" God, he'd throttle her first, then move on to those other men-

"Same person who pissed in yours." The retort gets him a raise of an eyebrow but nothing more.

"Sure. I'm done here, so you can go back to terrorising the poor kids." It's a receptive group, more than a couple of them had shown interest in what she was saying. A few of the more promising ones she had taken a personal note of, intending to pass their names forward to Laswell to consider.

"Until we have the misfortune of meeting again." She says, and maybe it's a throwaway act of trying to remain civil in such a public setting, but she extends a hand towards him.

He eyes it for a second, eyes narrowing.

"If you're afraid I'll throw you over my shoulder like last time-"

She grins smugly when he takes her hands, squeezing it through the brief handshake a little harder than necessary.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

This is a terrible idea.

Somehow, because whoever's up there seems to have a personal vendetta against him, Ghost finds himself standing in front of her office door, a file on all the recruit's scores and past experiences Laswell had ordered him to pass onto her clutched loosely in his arm.

It was 11 at night, but the army notoriously never slept.

Because he's not a fucking animal, he knocks, waiting to hear her call out an okay before pushing the door open.

It's as sparsely decorated as his own office. There's not much to keep the value of sentiment in with lives as busy as theirs, but the things that catch his focus are the small picture frames set on her desk.

After her, of course.

Changed into something more casual, his eyes trace the dips and curves that are so utterly her.

"Did you need something?" She asks, the friendly edge to her voice flittering away when she sees it's him.

"No, but you do." Moving closer, he tosses the file onto her desk. Staring at it for a moment, she clicks her tongue whilst flipping through the pages.

"I'd like to snag a couple of these for my team in a few years." She mutters to herself, pausing over a few of the reports. Ghost's hands twitch with the urge to curl them inwards when he remembers the events of this morning.

She's studying him, he realises. With a quiet, titled expression, she's taking him in head to toe and it's the first time in a while Ghost has felt so stripped to the core.

"Got something to say?" His voice comes out rougher than intended. Making no move to speak, the corner of her lips quirk up slightly. Huffing quietly, she spins her chair back around to face her desk, picking up the pen she'd discarded when he first walked through her doors.

It's quiet. The scratching of pen on paper. Something about it jarrs him, ignites a twinge of irritation because why the hell is she so quiet now after he's asked her a question? Normally she sparsely shuts up enough for his heart to cool down from its quickened pace.

He'd say later on that he weighed the decision he made, that he really thought it through but frankly, the only thing on his mind is her, and it's cloudy with enough anger and an emotion he's not willing to admit right now that he acts without thinking. Completely on instinct.

Ghost spins the chair around so he's facing her and looking down. "Ignoring me now?" He says into the sharp silence. "Never thought I'd see the day you shut your mouth."

"Is that the way you talk to someone you spent the night with?" She answers. He grunts in surprise at her hand curling around the back of his beck, yanking him further down until they're face to face. "That's why you're still here, aren't you? Still bothered from this morning?" The smug look on her face only makes Ghost more irritated because she's right. He could have easily left after dropping the file off. He had no apparent reason to stay. "Couldn't stand the thought of sharing something you've already had a bite out of?"

It dawns on him with her tone right there and then.

She'd been doing it on purpose. The glances to him as she made her rounds, the way she lingered over the recruits only when she could feel his eyes burning into her from behind.

Ghost is met with that teasing, smug grin that fixes him into place a little too effectively because when she hooks an ankle around the bend of his knee and pulls, he goes down onto his knees without much of a fight. He's tall enough so they're actually face to face now, eyes level.

"Finally caught on?" The smooth lilt to has his stomach twisting and his mind reeling, though he stays as composed on the outside as always. Waiting. Watching. Urging himself to keep his hands to himself.

"Fuckin' hell." He breathes out. "You little minx."

"Affirmative."

Heated eyes take in the being that is her. Sharp smiles, dirty tactics, and that attitude that made him want to do things that would get him discharged if he were to ever voice them.

All of her was a deadly beautiful.

It checks out that Ghost is lover of deadly.

Calloused, rough hands, trails up her legs and settle around her hips. His eyes flicker down to her mouth and for a moment, neither of them speak. Then she leans closer and for a moment Ghost braces himself.

"Say please." It's all teeth and a sharp teasing voice with her. Ghost stills at the command, annoying flickering its agitated flames.

Every fucking thing about her rubbed him the wrong way, made him so...out of control? Agitated? All of the above?

He swallows past the bitter taste in his throat. Weighs his options.

"Please."

He mumbles it because she always somehow manages to make him concede. She did it back then and she's doing it right now with his breath ghosting over her lips, hot and heavy.

A smirk curves her mouth. "What was that?" She whispers. "Couldn't quite hear you..." Her hands move from his collar up to the edge of his balaclava, toying with the edge. Ghost makes no move to stop her when she slowly, so achingly slowly, starts rolling the fabric up.

"I fuckin' hate you." He growls, actions and words at war.

"You're showing me a lot of love for someone who claims so." Is all she says, movements halting as the fabric bunches over his nose, laying bare the bottom half of his face. "Would you let anyone touch you like this, hmm?" Skimming her fingers over the scar on his chin, his own hands tighten around her hips at the gentle feeling. She ends up cupping his cheeks. "Because I'll tell you this, Simon-"

It's a physical reaction, the way she says his name. He straightens up instinctively and takes in a muted, sharp inhale. She leans closer, and if he only tilted his head up a fraction they'd brush lips.

"It's been a long time since I've let anyone touch me like you are."

It snaps something in him, maybe his patience or perhaps his resolve.

One hand slides up to the back of her neck, the other one yanks her out of her chair and to the floor. He crashes their mouths together in a kiss that brings an instant sort of relief. It's not sweet by any means, all clicking teeth and pulling at each other. Hands roaming and breaths shared.

Neither of them knows who pulls away first, but eventually they're left to catch their breath, their foreheads pressed together.

Then she laughs, a light, soft breeze. "You should've seen yourself back then. Looked like you wanted to flay those kids alive." She snickers.

"I did." There's no use denying it, not when this, when she, makes something curl up and settle down deep within him. As much as she riles him up, she also brings him a kind of peace that he can't describe.

Goddamn, he's so far gone. Maybe he should book in a psych eval soon...

"Never thought I'd see the day you were like this." She hums, "Wish I'd taken a video of it."

"It won't happen again, love." He shakes his head, trying and failing to push down the slightest bit of amusement. "That you can count on."

"Wanna bet?" She says cheekily, scratching at the nape of his neck with her nails gently. It makes a shiver run down his spine, the curl of her lips widens as she feels it.

"You drive me fuckin' insane, you know that?" He mumbles against her lips.

"You love it." Is all she manages to get out before he pulls her in again.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(27/07/2023)

[chiefdirector]

Questioning | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

“Regina was there that day… the day (Y/N) disappeared.” Williamson said, keeping his eyes away from the steely faced detective Harper who sat questioning him. He could have felt her loathing from a mile away. He couldn’t blame her though, he loathed himself just as much, but even so, he couldn’t look at her. “She had some men, guns for hire, I recognised some from previous arrest records-“

“I will need names.” Harper interrupted. 

“Sure sure, anything.” 

Nyla took her pen out to make note of the former detective’s confession. “Anyway, continue.”

“She brought a file. Photos. She gave them to her, (Y/N) that is. I saw only a couple from where I was. It was a wedding photo of some kind. And one where the dude in it… it was the uh one who arrested me. Tom…?”

Williamson took a moment to readjust himself to the best he could with the cuffs on. “That’s when Regina started talking about getting what’s owed to her. She said something about her husband losing everything because of her… or maybe someone else. It was all so long ago.”

“Her husband, Carter. died in a police raid five weeks after Regina Diaz.” 

“Then one of the men aimed the gun. And I ran. I heard a shot but I was gone by that point.”

Harper hummed, looking at the mirror behind her where she knew Tim waited. She didn’t need to see him to know what he was thinking. He had been in that second raid, he had arrested Regina. He had been the one to cause all this. Harper tore her gaze away and back to Williamson again. “When did you next speak to (Y/N) again?”

“Three, maybe four months later she called me. That file had photos of someone. Regina made an offer. She would spare his life but she would hunt (Y/N) down. She would take away his wife like he had taken her husband.”

“So that’s why she stayed away… as to not endanger her husband?”

“Initially.”

“Initially? What does that mean?”

“Around seven months ago, she caught wind of their new operation, she said that she had to finish what she started. I last heard from her five weeks ago, she said that she was making a plan to intervene on their next shipment; she said it was going to be their biggest yet.”

Harper looked up from her notepad, Williamson’s words rushing through her mind. The Diaz family operation has been one of the biggest threats to the war on drugs in a long time. They had gone quiet after Carter had died, it was thought that the rest of them had gone to prison or dispersed into lower ranking gangs. They hadn't been important enough to keep constant eyes on. But they had rallied together, Nyla could tell from the information Williamson provided that they were going to take back what was once theirs and try to expand their control of the drug flow in Los Angeles.

“When was this shipment meant to move out?”

“The twentieth of this month.”

“That’s two days from now.”

—---

Tim found it almost fascinating how quickly and effectively the LAPD could pull together an operation when one of their own was in danger. Multiple officers came together on their days off and some even came from other divisions across LA county. Bodies moved through the station, each with the same purpose, they were here to save her, they were going to save his wife.

“Officer Bradford,” Tim turned around at the sound of Commander West speaking, “Can I have a word?”

Tim nodded before following the Commander into Sargent Grey’s office. He remained standing as West spoke.

“We have gotten in contact with a few CI’s. All of the intel seems to line up. We have called in the metro division, and have federal agents on stand-by. As you know, we have a full house of officers lining up for this bust…”

“Sir, if I may? What are you trying to say?”

West sighed, trying to pick his words carefully. He had been the one to clear all of the paperwork and the legal grey areas when Tim had originally worked on his wife’s case. “What I'm saying is that you are not needed here. Your judgement is impaired, this is too personal. If we have any chance of bringing Detective Bradford home where she belongs, we need to have everybody who is in on this to have their mind focussed on taking down this cartel movement.”

“I have to be there. I can’t leave this to anyone else. I- I failed her once, I can't do that again.”

“I understand. I really do.” West paused again, this time he took a moment to collect himself. “If this was my wife, I would be just as determined to be on the front lines of this too. But we don’t have margin for error here. So I managed to get a compromise. You will be there, and someone else will be in a car parked just under a block away. When we locate Detective Bradford, you will be called in to retrieve her.”

Tim nodded at his words, trying to bite back the urge to argue with him. He knew that West was trying his best to find a compromise between the grey areas of the LAPD Code of Conduct and Tim’s own drive to do what it takes to save (Y/N). “Who will I be with?”

“Whoever you want.”

“Put me with Chen, but please make sure Lopez is on the front lines of this. (Y/N) trusts her completely.”

“I can do that. Thank you, Bradford, for being so compliant with this… I know it must not be easy for you to take a step back from this operation.”

“No, it isn't.” Tim said, moving towards the door. “But I will do anything to make sure she comes home, even if it means I have to trust others to do what I couldn't.”

“You can trust us, and you will be there for her.”

“I know. Nobody could stop me from doing that, Commander, not even you.”

Part Five | Part Seven

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424

Tags are open :)

[yureiyaps]

ִֶָ☾. See You Later!

cw: war au pairing: megumi x OC, dad!Satoru wc: 2.6k

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this particular chapter, as exhausting as it was :DD

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 >>> coming soon!

(Megumi's POV)

I was confused.

The problem with chasing shadows is that sometimes, they start looking back.

I was in the archives again. Third time this week. I knew there was nothing new in these files — redacted lines, blank pages, ink that looked like it was burned off — but I kept coming back anyway.

Hope's a stupid thing. Fragile. Addictive.

I flipped open another folder. Same emblem on the top corner. Same damn font. Property of Operation: Blind Sun. Property of a nightmare. Screw this. I sighed, tossing the useless stash of paper to the table and walking out of the room, closing the door behind me. Kuroiwa was either stupidly blind or blindly stupid.

Either works.

Staring at redacted files until my eyes fell out never helped and never will help, so I decided I'm going rogue. Even if it gets me kicked out of here - which I'm actually yearning for. How am I supposed to find my family - or what was left of them, at least - if I can't use any and all resources I can find? That's why instead of turning right in the corridor, I veered left into the darkness. In the direction of the SUPERIOR PERSONNEL ONLY room. Some files were labeled CLASSIFIED. Others were marked FOR EYES ABOVE RANK.

But none of them said Fushiguro Megumi: Stop Being a Goddamn Idiot and Open This Sooner — which is exactly what they should’ve said.

The lock was easy. The badge swipe? Easier. They trained me to ghost into enemy territory, and I was using it to crack into my own military’s records. What a joke.

I didn’t care. I had one goal. One person.

Her name. That’s all I needed. I typed it in like I’d done a hundred times before.

GOJO, AKIRA.

And this time, it didn’t bounce me.

It opened a record.

Deployment: Special Division 02 – Black Unit Commanding Officer: SOKOLYEV, CMDR Second-in-Command: ARATA, LT Status: ACTIVE Clearance Level: LOCKED

I stared at the screen.

Kyle Sokolyev. Buzzcut.

She was under Buzzcut the entire time. The same man I’d passed in briefings. The same man who pretended not to recognize my last name. The same unit that operated under the same goddamn flag as me.

My fists slammed the desk.

Kuroiwa.

She knew. She’d known everything.

My pulse roared in my ears like gunfire. A traitor’s beat — not to the country, but to myself. I should’ve seen it.

I didn’t wait for permission. Or a vehicle. Or a file stamp. I stole a damn bike from the depot and rode.

(MILITARY BASE, SPECIAL DIVISION 02 - AKIRA'S BASE)

The base looked like any other: concrete, dust, half-salvaged wiring running like veins up the sides. But it felt different. A soldier at the gate blinked when I flashed my stolen clearance. “Uh. Sir? You’re… not from this base.”

“No,” I said. “I’m looking for someone. Gojo Akira. She’s registered here.”

“Private Gojo?” He frowned. “She shipped out early this morning.”

Damn it.

“Then someone she was close to,” I said without flinching. “Anyone she trusted. Ate meals with. Laughed around.”

The guy scratched his head. “Uh… I mean, she mostly kept to herself, but—yeah. There’s this one guy. Talks a lot. Name’s Renji. He used to get her to eat when she skipped meals.”

“Where is he?”

“Mess hall. Second corridor.” I nodded, walking into the base and going towards the hall. It smelled like steel trays and yesterday’s regrets. Soldiers slumped over half-eaten meals, boots scraping tile. I scanned until I saw him — mid-twenties maybe, hair a mess, knuckles bruised, eyes like he hadn’t slept since peace was invented.

I walked over.

“Renji?” I asked.

He looked up slowly, like he was used to being called for trouble. “Yeah?”

“I’m looking for someone. Gojo Akira.”

His face didn’t shift much — just this small, knowing pause, like a dot connecting in the back of his mind.

“Oh,” he said. A faint smile, like he knew something I didn’t. Like he recognized me.

I didn’t press. “Do you know where she went?”

He nodded, pushed his half-eaten tray aside. “Shipped out early this morning. Left with Lieutenant Arata.”

My hands curled around the edge of the bench. “Do you know why?”

Renji scratched his neck, sighing softly and speaking. "I supposed it had to do something with these papers she's been studying non-stop. Something about her dad. Come on.” He stood and started walking, leading me to the barracks.

The room was quiet. Lived-in but stripped clean. Two bunks, one top, one bottom. Renji motioned to the lower one.

“She’s been studying these,” he said, crouching and reaching under the bedframe. “Secret files. She wouldn’t let anyone touch them, but… you’re not just anyone, are you?”

I didn’t answer.

He pulled out a folded pack of documents — ragged at the edges, creased from sleepless nights. He passed them to me.

“She never said your name,” Renji added quietly. “But I figured it out.”

I opened the folder.

Classified logos. Operation stamps. Maps. Coordinates. Codenames. Redacted lines stacked like barbed wire. I barely blinked. My fingers traced through them, eyes scanning for something — anything — that would tell me where she went.

Then something slipped loose.

A photo.

It fluttered down into my lap.

I stared at it.

It was us.

Just a day — random, forgettable to anyone else. I was maybe nine. She was grinning wide, arms thrown around my neck, and I was mid-sigh, clearly trying not to smile.

We looked happy.

I swallowed hard.

“She kept it in the folder,” Renji said, voice low behind me. “Wouldn’t let it go, even when she got yelled at for bringing personal stuff into briefing.”

I folded the photo back into the file. My throat burned.

“Do you know where they went?” I asked.

Renji shook his head. “No. But it’s all in there. If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.” I nodded, offering a tight smile that looked more like a grimace than anything else. Renji nodded his head, offering the same smile.

Except his looked more sympathetic and emotional.

I stood up, tucking the files into my bag gently and fixing my gloves, looking around. I had to find her, and I would. No matter what.

"Good luck. She'll be glad to know you still care," Renji said, silent support and understanding in his booming voice. Why would she think I didn't care?

It made me pause for a moment, but the thought was pushed to the back of my mind when I was out of the base. The drive to my base was exhausting, mentally wrecking. Everything happening was driving me insane.

And that insanity drove me further to find the truth. -----------------------

The file folder lied splayed open across the floor.

Gloves were off. Jacket on the ground. I'm sitting cross-legged, hunched over, every classified paper spread around me like the wreckage of a storm.

At first, I was just skimming, frustrated — trying to pinpoint anything concrete.

But then I realized something was off.

The first highlight’s yellow. The next… is red. Then green. Then blue. Then red again. And the pen strokes are slightly slanted, different. Not military issue. Not regulation.

Then it clicked.

She was talking to me.

I scrambled, dragging the lamp closer, pulling the files into a line.

Some highlights are in thick, angry strokes — military-issued. Others? Finer. Smaller. Like someone was trying not to be noticed. And she repeated a pattern — yellow, red, green, blue, red.

A cipher.

I pulled out my notebook, copying the words only highlighted in her color. The phrases they formed.

I'm stupid.

"They’re lying about Satoru." "Arata trusts you." "If you see this, I need you." "Find me before they do."

And then finally — one more line, tucked in a page with nothing else on it:

"Only you would’ve seen this."

I clenched the papers in my hands, feeling tears build up. My mind drifted back to the photo I saw earlier.

I could remember the moment the photo was taken. What she said. How she smiled. How she looked at me as if I were her whole world. Maybe I never looked back. But it was time to now.

"I hate you as much as I would love to kiss you right now," a soft whisper fell from my lips, something cracking the wrong way in my heart. I was so, so, so blind. I needed to find her ASAP.

I didn't care she had a layer of protection from Buzzcut and Arata over herself. Didn't care the two were smart enough to dodge a nuclear bomb seconds before it exploded. I needed to help her. If I don't, I don't want to know what could happen.

I'm pretty sure that earlier, I didn't deserve that smile of hers. But I'll be damned if I don't earn it now.

------------------

I slept over everything. Let the situation fully settle in my gut - let the fact she trusted me so much settle in completely. I can't fuck up now.

The hallway was too quiet for this hour. Morning briefings usually meant chaos - boots scuffing tile, radios crackling, half-eaten rations tossed on crates - but today, even the static felt like it was holding its breath.

I adjusted the strap of my sidearm as I passed the old west wing of Base D-7. Rust bloomed on the steel walls like rot, and for a second, I caught my own reflection in the window - a little older, a little harder around the eyes. I hated mirrors now. All they ever did was show me who I was without her.

Without my family.

A low whistle cut through the air. A junior tech—Rei, I thought—waved me over with a sealed file in hand.

“Sir, we picked up something odd,” she said, voice low. “Encrypted activity log triggered a ghost alert. Registered as unlicensed movement… but the trail is too clean. Almost like someone wanted us to find it.”

I frowned. “Where?”

She hesitated. “Sector 09.”

I blinked. “That’s not real. There’s no Sector 09.”

“I thought the same. But the log’s real. Timestamped, with geo-pings routed through backdoors only the black-ops used during Blind Sun’s peak.”

That name made my gut twist.

I grabbed the file. Flipped through sharp paper. A chill slipped down my spine - coded phrases, static glitches, bits of phrases I knew by heart.

My heart dropped. No.

I ran a hand through my hair, skin buzzing. “This pattern - it’s her,” I whispered. “It’s Akira.”

Rei blinked. “Sir?”

“She’s alive. Or she was. She left this trail.” I was already walking, then running toward Command. “She’s in Sector 09.”

“But that place—”

“I don’t care what the map says.” My voice was sharp, laced with steel. “If she’s there, I’m going in.”

I didn't wait for a car - yet again, just dragged the stolen bicycle with me and followed the coordinates. If Satoru ever taught me something useful, it was how to easily navigate using coordinates, even in dire situations such as this one.

------------------

Sector 09. I was confused, yet again.

Why was I at the Horizon Lot? There used to be an arcade here when Akira and I were kids. Akira's family always parked on spot 11B, mine took place 10A.

I carefully stepped into the parking lot, looking around. Something was terribly off. Usually, it took a good lot to make me feel insecure and scared.

Now, shivers ran up my spine non-stop and my eyes started watering without reason.

I shivered again, breath coming out in white clouds. I didn't know what cold was, but it was clear now that I was here.

And that Akira was possibly in a life-or-death situation.

Falling into step, I quickened my pace. There was no time to lose.

My pulse thudded in my ears as I sprinted down the corridor, the walls closing in on me. The air was thick with the scent of rust and decay, mixed with something sharper—burnt ozone, the sting of something metallic, something wrong.

My boots pounded the slick concrete floor, the echoes bouncing off the narrow passageways that seemed to get tighter the further I pushed. The walls—half-machine, half-stone—were like a grave, cold and unforgiving. They didn’t belong in a place like this.

Sector 09 shouldn’t have even existed. But here I was.

A flash of red on the floor caught my attention.

Blood.

Fresh. The dark, rust-colored smear was splattered across the ground, trailing off at an angle, like someone had been dragged or stumbled. My throat tightened, breath catching. I knelt, fingers hovering just above the floor. My eyes darted over the bloodstains, tracing the path.

Then I saw them.

Footprints.

One set was deeper, heavier - someone wearing tactical boots. But the second set, faint against the backdrop of scuffed floors, was lighter. Smaller.

The weight of the tread wasn’t right either. Too soft. Too quick.

My stomach dropped.

Akira’s footsteps.

The hollow pit in my chest swelled with dread. My heart hammered, the rhythmic thudding a constant reminder of how far behind I was.

“No…” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. “No, no, no…”

She has been here.

My hands clenched into fists at my ides as I pushed myself upright, mind reeling. She had to be okay. She had to be. I was almost there. Almost close enough to...

The next thing I found nearly stopped his heart.

A comm-unit. Standard military issue. Its casing was cracked, one side busted open, wires dangling out like veins. I dropped to one knee, the urgency propelling me forward.

It was still faintly warm.

My fingers brushed the comm’s interface, testing it for any residual charge. I could feel the heat—fresh, as though it had been dropped only moments ago.

My breath hitched. She dropped it. It wasn’t just lying there; it had been discarded, left behind in a rush. A moment of panic. Or something worse.

I swallowed hard, chest tight.

The comm-unit was cracked, but it wasn’t beyond repair. If I could just get a signal out—maybe it wasn’t too late.

But as I reached for my own device, a strange sense of dread settled over me. I was missing something. Something important. The walls seemed to close in further, the corridor stretching out in front of me like a tunnel, growing darker with every step I took.

I snapped the comm-unit into my belt. The place was a trap—it had to be.

I didn’t care. I was getting her out. No matter the cost.

A scream interrupted my train of thought. It wasn't Akira's scream; I knew that the moment I heard it. Nevertheless, it made me freeze.

It came from somewhere below the ground.

What was going on?

Something smashing and unsettling, almost eerie sounds of cracking echoed through the empty, rusty parking lot, sending a pang of uneasiness and dread straight to my core. Shit.

I pushed harder, running faster, my legs burning as I followed the sounds of destruction. I had to find her. I had to make sure she was okay.

The walls shook, like something massive had just breached the ground. The sound of shattering glass and metal split the air. The whole place groaned, like a beast awakening from a long sleep.

I grabbed one of the grenades attached to my suit, throwing it at the wall from behind which the sounds seemed to be coming from.

I ran back quickly, protecting my face from flying debris and rubble, the sound of explosion deafening me for a moment before I looked up through the dust and caught those eyes.

Cerulean blue, like the sky before the war. Pristine white hair, wild and long.

----------------- taglist: @crimsonhallucinations

[imthecosmicbasball]

"Chapter 1"

Hoshina Soshiro X Oc

Masterlist

"I'm Hasanagi Akira."

On a recent mission the third division just got home from a mission and was already exhausted from it which led them to stay at the bath tub for a while. After their finish with their bath Kafka and Reno where hanging out for a while with Iharu and Kikoru behind them.

"Have you heard, someone said there will be a officer who temporary transfer to first division now they're coming back." Kikoru said drinking her orange juice. "Yeah I heard they where doing some external missions for a while wonder how that is." Reno said.

"I bet they're really strong! If the first division ask for their help!" Iharu said excitedly "Well all we could do is wait." Said Kafka drinking his can of beer.

"Y'll seem having fun there watcha talkin' about?"

Said Hoshina Soshiro from behind them straddling them which makes Kafka choke on his drink, because he didn't want to spray his beer at his superior the poor man swallow it whole. Hoshina only lets out a brief laughter and wipe away his imaginary tears.

"W-we where talking about-" Reno was cut off by Hoshina "Oh the tempo-transfer crew yep there is and their no one else they yer third in command." Hoshina explain with  grind and a little mischief aura. Everyone gasp at the news and surprised how could they not now this before? What's the reason of them no knowing and why weren't they now any news of having a third in command.

"But Vice-captain Hoshina why weren't they have the a rank as a platoon leader if they're strong." Kikoru ask curious Hoshina touch his chin with his usual grind and hum for a while.

"Hmm~ you see they're......."

Everyone wear a weird expression but still waits for the vice captain to say anything.

"...... Meh you'll just have to ask them tomorrow." Hoshina said with a innocent grind which made everyone just slum their head.

(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

The next morning Kikoru decided to go out with Minase for a girl outing and when they cross a boutique shop up ahead they encounter a lady seem in her 20 she seem very fashionable given how creative and beautiful her clothes look still young and thriving with her natural latte brown hair with a dye red hair on her left side hair she seem to be looking around her pockets and bag or around her body at all while looking a little distressed Kikoru and Minase came to the lady while asking.

(I'm not good at describing the clothing so imma show only.)

"Umm ma'am are you alright? You seem trouble." Kikoru ask. The lady look at them with deep ocean eyes and she smiled "Umm yes I seem to have forgotten my wallet which I was going to buy something for a friend but..... At last I have to go home empty handed you see I've been out for a while with my friend and we've been texting for a while I didn't say anything I was coming home so I wanted to surprise him but hehehe," Said the lady which look  exhausted. The girls look up to see a bakery which is famous in their area Kikoru smile sympathetically and hold the lady shoulder.

"No worries I think I can help with that," "Oh please don't I don't want to bother you." Kikoru only smile and said "It's not wrong to give a helping hand, come on." Kikoru pull the lady inside which makes her smile and while the girls did some shopping after Kikoru pay for them the lady was looking at her bag with one strawberry cake and one tiramisu cake and another one a mont blanc in the bag. "Ugh I feel bad letting two sweet girls paying for me." The lady said smiling sweetly at them "It's ok to lend a hand if someone needs it." Said Kikoru with a smile on her face the lady was silent before chuckled softly she puts down her bag and took the receipt and give it to Kikoru "Can I have your contact info? Maybe I can pay you back." Said the lady smiling widely at them. Kikoru happily write down her contact info which made the grind and thank her.

"Thank girls hope to see you guys..... Soon." The lady but the last word came out as a whisper but Kikoru the only heard which is weird for her but she didn't bother by it Kikoru and Minase wave goodbye to the lady and they went on their separate ways.

At the base where everyone is at Kikoru tells her story to the others how she the meet the lady and how kind she was.

"Honestly I think she's a very delightful person, looking at her confidence aura and the way she's so forward." Said Kikoru to Kafka and Reno which the boys responded by listening. While they where talking and Iharu rush in the cafeteria with a huge slam everyone turn their attention towards him.

"Guys! Guys! You wouldn't believe what happened." Iharu said making everyone crock their eyebrows.

They crew follow Iharu from the second floor to see through the window from the main gate "Hey what are we---"

"Shh!! There." Iharu cuts Reno off and pointed outside the base which when they saw Vice-captain Hoshina hugging a stranger not any stranger but the stranger that Kikoru and Minase encountered.

"T-that's the lady we saw before!" Said Minase which everyone was even more surprised.

Out the gate before the commotion Akira was just coming through the gate "Seem like you forgot to give me your regards." Said the one and only vice captain Hoshina Akira grind and hug her old friend from excitement. "Hehe, what's wrong in coming by for a surprise?" Said Akira.

Akira walk together with Hoshina talking while catching up, while they where catching up the 5 crew sneak around to watch them.

Akira and Hoshina laugh a little while Akira punching playfully on Hoshina shoulder.

"You think their dating?" Ask Iharu.

"Probably not but they seem close." Said Kikoru.

"Hey is this really a good idea?" Kafka said with a concern look on his face he doesn't want to get in trouble but he couldn't leave his fellow youngster chil--I mean friends wonder around so he took the risk.

From what looks like Hoshina and Akira and talking peacefully they already knew that somebody was watching them "I guess you weren't layin' when you said this year recruit are interesting." Akira said grinning.

Hoshina just gives her brife sight "Told ya" Akira hand the plastic bag she was carrying the whole to Hoshina face, Hoshina look confused but hold the bag anyways. "What's this?"

Akira only roll her eyes before inserting her hands inside the bag and show the mont blanc infront of Hoshina face and his face lit up. Akira smile and the other's who watch where felt jelly inside them or awe?

"By the way you guys are terrible at hiding." Hoshina said his face still facing Akira. Everyone went pale after hearing their vice captain voice even if his said it casually they still felt the shivers running down, the group came out with a guilt face yet embarrassed. Akira watching only giggles at the scene.

"A... Our apologies vice captain." Said all of them together Hoshina only sight before speak in his usual tone "Give me 80 laps." Hoshina said with his grind face. They where about to leave but Hoshina give them a second to introduce Akira.

"Since y'll are curious I'll give a brief meeting, this is Hasanagi Akira aka..."

"I'm the third in command from the third division nice to meet every one of you." Akira said smiling while waving her hand in front of them, everyone was hesitant at first but eventually they all gasp in surprised and shock especially Kikoru and Minase.

"EEHH!?"

(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠) ??? Part2

[queen-of-elves]

Hello! I've seen you take requests, and I've seen you write Star Wars, so... Can you write something Hux X Admiral of the Resistance! Reader? (or Leia's personal assistant?) (I like the idea of the First Order and the Resistance linking) Where the FO capture her as she is strategically important and she is very cold, caustic and professional. And Hux (already a spy😳) understands that he must help her get out, and something clearly arises between them😏 ... I know this is awfully vague, but if you can... Sorry this is so long and weird💕🙏

The Vice Admiral

A/N: awww I love this 💕 hopefully I did your idea the justice T-T and I do have to apologize for it taking so long- life happened I guess + I often times dont really write when it's summer

A/N2: REQUEST ARE OPEN however I have some wips I would like to get out so they also might take some time

Words: 2650

Warnings: cursing, mentions of torture? inform me if you find some more

It was not in your intentions to get caught but atleast Dameron and others got away with the data you were sent by General Organa to retrieve from one of loyal Resistance informants. It was meant to be something you had already done a million times. Simply land on the planet, locate the informant with the data, retrieve it and go back to the main base. Sometimes it was more simple than others but you were brave and you were smart, plus the great pilot, Poe Dameron, by your side was an upgrade from the scary solo missions you used to receive before moving up ranks in the Resistance.

However, this time, oh Maker, this time it was a shit show. Everything that could get fucked up turned out to be even bigger mess than you could ever imagine. The excellent ship Poe promised? At first glance you thought your disguise was scavengers. Fine, you could deal with a crappy ship in exchange for Poe’s actually excellent piloting skills but the ride was bumpy. However, some asteroid fields couldn’t stop you and Dameron from collecting the needed data for the Resistance. What could stop you though was the ship going kaput on Poe which meant you being late for the exchange, which meant more trouble and more trouble could only mean the First Order being tipped off. Yes, big shit show indeed. By the time you landed and got your asses to the meeting spot the First Order was already ready to arrest you.

***

Maker, if you had a few more seconds you could have already escaped the binds keeping you still but with the door sliding open you had no seconds to spare. The figure strided inside and you immediately recognized him. And you knew you were in trouble, if the one conducting the interrogation was any other lower ranking officer you were sure you could escape one way or another. But with him, you were not entirely sure.

“Vice Admiral Sloane.” His voice was commanding, bouncing off the metal walls it made it even more threatening than you could even imagine, even though it conveyed incorrect information.

The First Order database seemed not to be updated of your promotion, Sloane was indeed one of the candidates for the position just like you but your experience in the strategist division of the New Republic Defense Forces left all other candidates miles behind you in the process of selection.

“Incorrect.” The smug smile on the General’s face quickly faded and was soon painted on your lips. However just as the smile grazed your face it hid away under serious expression. This was a battle of wits and will and YOU would make sure not to lose it.

“Excuse me?!” His voice was higher than before, he was too confused to mask it. You were now winning by a single point.

“Vice Admiral? Of that I can assure you.” But you continued, anchoring the groundwork for your success. Just get him irritated, too much irritated and bothered by not knowing who you are, so he leaves the room. With just a few seconds you were sure you could escape the binds but you had to be alone. 

“Sloane? Unfortunately and definitely not.”

“What?!” He seemed absent for a moment, in the room but devoid of any expression, searching for something in his head. Now you could see it, the cogs in his head turning, his brain using seconds to finish minutes long thought conundrums. 

Armitage Hux, the General of the First Order seemed to be losing in that moment, not just his cool but also the battle. Now was the time to strike, finish him off and secure your escape route as soon as possible. If you would be able to piss him off even more it could give you an opening the moment he leaves the room to check. But it had to be precisely executed, if he were to send someone else for the information you would fail.

“It doesn’t matter. You were at the meeting site for the informant to meet the Resistance.” He was faster, his words spilling out before you could open your mouth dealing the final blow.

“Oh.” Armitage sensed he couldn’t get more out of you in the name of reaction so he continued. Building a case against you in the process.

“We got a tip. An informant on our side decided to tell us there might be a rebel scum strolling around the market.”

Calm down, you can still do it.

“And that’s supposed to be me?” This time you rewarded him with an answer, though it was slightly unwanted.

“Yes.” He was visibly gritting his teeth, his whole face indicating all was not yet lost and you could recover to your plan in just a few words.

And we are right back on the tracks.

“So, the mere assumption that I was there to meet some means I am a rebel scum?”

“Yes.” This time he was fuming, ready to boil over. It wasn’t as visible as you would expect, he was still somewhat collected and especially still cold but his ears were red and the artery on his neck seemed to be bulging in anger.

“I am not much of a stroller, you see… and on top of that I can assure you, you are wasting your, mine and the precious First Order’s time.”

Just get him out of this room. You are fast enough to get out of this stupid electric chair before they can react from the control room.

You were not sure if the pep talk was helping, the minutes of interrogation seemed to stretch and the more time you spent here the harder it was getting out.

There was something strange about his expression you have not noticed before, however now it was more prominent from the closer angle, he was shifting closer and closer to you during the interrogation.

Something flashed in his eyes, understanding of sort. You were not sure what it meant but surely it wasn’t anything good. The cogs in his brain were moving faster again than before. Whatever Hux was brewing inside his clever head, Maker, you didn’t want to know what cruel fate he was planning for you.

“I have a datapad in my office, bring it.” Hux was not talking to you, his gaze was stuck on the darkened window, he was commanding the officer on the other side to basically abandon his post. Great news but also not really.

Minutes go by and Hux seems to not move a bit, or was it seconds? Your anxiety was ranking up, they had nothing on you, Poe escaped before you with the information so you were sure there won't be any footage of your comrade being tortured but what was on the datapad was still a mystery to you.

“I will get you out.” These words pierced the silence, not loud enough to be heard on any microphone. It was more of a whisper, directed right into your ear, his proximity now apparent.

The General would get you out? General Hux would get YOU out? They must have administered some hallucinogens to your system already, this whole situation was too impossible to comprehend.

“We have to be quick though. I need you to headbut me, the cameras in this room are still functioning so we have to give them something.” 

And you do so, your head falls back before you bring great force into the motion. Your head goes slamming into his, red hair mixing with yours in the process until you hurt just like he does. He is no longer close to you, stepping away to proceed the pain he gives you a pained expression. The stage is set once again.

“You rebel scum!” His rich voice booms through the room, filling it and echoing back to you once more. And his figure is in motion again, unlocking your restraints with a slight push of a button, dragging you to your feet before locking your hands in another cuffs. 

It was so swift you couldn’t even proceed a single thought. Was he truly getting you out ? Or was it another scheme to get you to break? But again before you could use your brain Armitage was already pushing you into the hallway. 

The hallway was empty just like the next one and the one that followed and by the fourth turn you realized Armitage was successfully avoiding corridors with officers in them. The further both of you walked the more sure you were he truly was going to set you free. And you were not wrong, one way or another you would get out of here.

With the next turn you could feel the redhead’s steps halting and you soon recognized hurried steps from the end of the hallway. You were sure of it soon, there was someone at the end of the hallway, the outline familiar but too far to distinguish them properly. But the closer they got, the more you recognized him. Your idiotic pilot, someone you could not be happier to see in such a situation.

“I came to save you.” His face was beaming, sweat still clinging to his pretty face but you were glad he was here. He must have been sprinting around in the maze of same looking halls for some time, the sweat clinged to him just like the red in his cheeks.

“Maker, and I thought you were just going to forget about me.” Poe did appreciate the sarcasm for a moment before he noticed you had a little someone with you. The little someone literally being General Hux, his number one enemy, quite literally his nemesis in some sense. You knew of the history between them, Poe taunting the red head too often on missions they crossed paths on. This could end only poorly and you were stuck in between.

Your favorite pilot, only on the occasions he actually properly piloted or came to save your ass like in this moment, was too dumbfounded from this predicament, all he could do was point a finger at your unwelcome guest, which you deemed better than pointing a blaster at him.

“Yeah, I noticed I had a pretty little redheaded shadow, Dameron.” Your eyes shifted to the ship, ready to take off with you if your dear pilot could get his brain back to functioning on time. “Now get us out of here.”

This seemed to pull Poe out of the trance but he still scolded and muttered under his breath what you simply deemed as curses to the redhead behind you. Even Armitage didn’t stand idle, in the meantime he unlocked the cuff with a buzzing sound before it clanked on the metal floor. In the end you could make it out alive, enemies or not if they were not speaking to each other all was fine.

“Let’s go.”

“What?” You could hear that he didn’t move even by a step. Did this man truly believe you would leave him here? You already figured it out, that this scared and at the same time brave man was the one, the one who was sending encrypted data to the Resistance, that he was the spy whose data you were collecting, whom you had contact for so long.

“Let’s go, we have to take off before the alarms go off.” As if telepathy between the two of you worked, maybe by the mysterious force itself or just the universe decided to align the stars for the two of you, he understood too. 

“I am not going with you.” The fear and the uncertainty was too strong for Armitage to withstand. Everything was always so simple to him, the plan was set for him a long time ago by his father and now he had an option to leave it all behind. He knew the First Order would go crumbling down, it was inevitable with how things were now. However, he still hoped everything he was building for himself would stay somehow the same even with his efforts to undermine everything else. 

“They are going to kill you.”

“No, I will-”

“It doesn't matter who you do. We both know the competition in the First Order is too fierce, one mistake and you are not needed anymore.” He knew you were right, even Poe was aware of that, but it didn’t change anything on how he didn’t want to admit it. Not being needed after one small mistake over the amount of achievements he brought to the First Order not just as General but visionary. 

“Letting someone from the Resistance is already bad but losing one of its Vice Admirals? Death sentence.” 

“Yes. I am well aware of this predicament, however-”

“However, you are coming with us. That’s final.”

The words of disagreement were stuck in his throat, on one side he was glad to have an available route out but on the other he couldn’t simply abandon his career. It was his everything, he worked hard to get where he was now and to simply lose it would probably hurt more than a blaster strike to the chest. That was a lie, he was sure of it and it would be foolish of him to not take your offer. Well, it actually sounded more like an order. 

“Fine.”  If he was meant to leave it seemed it was somehow always meant to be with someone like you.

And finally all of you were ready for a take off, Poe was still booting some things in his pilot seat while you were kind enough to not point out the vein popping in his neck. You would have to have a talk with Poe about this whole escapade but now was not the time or a place. Fingers pushing on the familiar controls, switching switches for a quicker take off your mind was a bit busy counting down seconds before you would hear the loud alarm indicating prisoner on the loose.

“Thank you, trully.” His voice made you mind stop for a second before you looked at him. You have not seen such a look on him yet, it was new and refreshing. An honest expression with a grateful small smile tugging on his lips. 

“Don’t mention it but you should get used to people helping each other.” This answer confused him a bit and you enjoyed the sight a lot. But the ship was ready to leave, interrupting the moment. The vibration from the motor buzzed through your whole body while you took the co-pilot place next to Poe. The leather seat reminds you that just a few moments ago you were in a similar one, strapped to a completely metal one and just a few steps from death’s door. Years before it would have scared you but now you took it like bread, like a normal day in the life of the Resistance fighter.

“We are going back to the Resistance.” You turned around, shooting him a quick smirk. “And you are going to help us defeat the First Order.” Your tone was cold now, in a mere seconds turning back to the Vice Admiral you were expected to be and something arose in the redhead. The game continued, this time not about you escaping him but more of a chase of professional matters. 

“Gladly.” His ambitions still flared but if he couldn’t achieve it with the First Order there is no reason not to try it with the Resistance while striking down his enemies and old colleagues. You could understand his ambitions and perfectionism from your own standpoint, hard worker yourself you had similar plans for your future, for your rank. You strived for professionalism just like he always did. It made you two too similar to ignore but at the same time opposite with your ideals clashing. It was still quite comforting, knowing there is someone who could understand your ambitions.

[tojiscrack]

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄

: ̗̀➛ word count: 11.3k

: ̗̀➛ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

: ̗̀➛ notes: our favourite sneak peak is in this chapter guys :))) but i also need to address something about the taglist. if you are currently on the tag list (or will be in the future) if you ever have the intention of changing your username, you must let me know right after you’ve changed it (and also tell me what your previous username was). this is so that i can change your name on the taglist with ease without having to wonder why it doesn’t work when i haven’t been told that your user has changed. i can’t go through the hassle of trying to figure out what your new name is as it’s time consuming and a waste really (because i usually don’t manage to find the name in the end). that’s all, hope you enjoy this chapter!

: ̗̀➛ summary: ranked as number 38 of the southern division for the 104th training corps as of now, you’ve lost all motivation to continue your journey on taking back number ten, your rightful position that would have (for sure) impressed captain levi. the commandant has taken note of your drop in skill and takes matters into his own hands, regarding your favourite higher up, of course..

previous chapter :) next chapter :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

today was a bad, bad day.

and the day after that too.. and the day after that also.. you were in dire need of some comfort, but found none; it wasn't all too surprising when you really thought about how you were now sat at number thirty-eight, no where near your rightful spot at number ten. could you help yourself? no. could someone else help you? potentially. perhaps the company of captain levi praising you for ranking thirty-eight for the southern division of the 104th cadet corps — instead of making random remarks at you like he had during the exams — might cheer you up?

but even that sounded quite unrealistic.

his expectations were high, you didn't need a genius to help you comprehend that. you'd heard things about him before you had even met him: that apparently he had his own squad handpicked by himself, that supposedly all of the members included ranked from numbers 1-10 during their own cadet corps, that maybe there was only one female out of the entire group (which hadn't bothered you then, obviously, for you didn't even know the man) and it did not bother you now either, not when you were benched at the corner during your hand-to-hand combat training due to unleashing your rage at reiner who (though jokingly) made a comment about your current position.

which ultimately led you to have marco now at your side, rubbing your back soothingly and lightly scolding you for your actions.

"what did he say that made you explode at him like a ticking time-bomb?" marco asked you gently.

you did not answer. your eyes were trained solely on the figure of reiner who was rubbing his backside in pain, his mouth moving as if he was talking to someone, but you were unable to lip-read. the sight almost made you chuckle. almost.

"hesaidihadpotentialorsomethingidunno," you mumbled lowly.

marco coughed, confused. "i didn't get that."

you sighed exaggeratedly, leaning away from marco's touch to grumble under your breath once more, begrudgingly.

"i still didn't quite catch what you —"

"he said i had potential!" you snapped, wincing when you realised just how wrong you had been. still, you were angry, and unfortunately for the blonde brute, he had been in your way.

expecting another more firm scolding, or even a carefully crafted lecture, both of which you never received, you turned your gaze to glare at marco instead, pondering on why he was so silent. he did not cower under your gaze like others might, instead, it was almost as though he was relishing in it, a lazy smile plastered over his delicate features that practically screamed you (in a gentle manner) 'no-i-am-not-scared-of-you'.

your gaze softened at the sight.

"it was a praise," said marco, finally, "what was so bad about that?"

"he was laughing!" you argued defensively, mildly shocked at marco's reaction. it was almost as if he was teasing you. "and you are too."

"i'm just surprised," he corrected, hands raised in mock surrender. "i mean, for someone who's been complaining about being so tired for the last couple of days, you sure flipped him over your back without a struggle."

you scoffed.

"and he weighs a lot, too," he added, pinching your cheek (in response, you threatened to bite his finger off).

so marco wasn't entirely wrong. you walked around the grounds of the training corps as if you were a ticking time-bomb, a count down representing just when you would explode again, but worse.

you'd heard what the other cadets had been saying, and although it would not usually bother your happy self, now it was more annoying than ever — it irked you to no end. still, you kept your silence, choosing to stomp around and keep your anger buried well inside you like a rotting body in a coffin. however, this did not keep it hidden.

there was one particular day where everyone had been gathered at the mess hall eating their lunch. it had just struck noon and you found yourself hungry.. but not for food. you didn't exactly know what you were hungry for, but on this day, you (and everyone else around you) became well aware of how aggravated you had become, and you pinned that all down on when ymir had grasped your shoulder in a particular manner that had you moving backwards and forwards against your will, to praise you.

"i know i told you to slack off a bit, but you were really committed, huh?" she laughed, clapping you on the back encouragingly. your front jolted forwards, stiff. "thanks anyway!"

"haha, yeah.." you sheepishly laughed, watching as she marched away from you (you could have sworn there was a little skip in her step), "you're.. welcome.."

the boiling fury wasn't present then, obviously, but it made its appearance not long after.

and that's when the whispers slyly travelled to your ears.

marco and jean both had spent quite some time trying to get you to sit with them and eat, but by their tenth (or was it the fifteenth?) try, they had given up, letting you be. so you found yourself walking around the mess hall, swallowed up by your thoughts, a moving vexation to anyone near. you had circled the hall more times than you could count, but after a particular number of circles, someone at the table had spoken up. not to you, of course, they wouldn't be stupid enough to do that (not when no amount of discipline could keep you in check) but about you.

"has anyone noticed how pissed y/n's been?" you heard connie lowly ask the table.

you tried not to look, keeping your head straight and eyes downcast, continuing your walk.

"have you only just noticed?" you heard a more womanly voice respond: immediately, you were aware that it had belonged to sasha. her question was then followed up by the sound of cutlery clashing against each other, and then lots of protests after that.

"shit, sasha, you didn't have to hit me for that!"

sasha ignored connie and went on to say more about your newly adopted attitude. "she wakes up early just to sit and glare. i thought it was because of extra training, but —"

"y/n and extra training aren't compatible," jean countered smoothly.

"but i remember her training on the grounds in the morning with you and marco not too long ago," said a lighter male voice: armin, you could tell. "or maybe my memory's not serving me right —"

"you should give yourself some credit, you saw correctly," another voice added, and this one pissed you off: eren. you had been holding quite a grudge against him since the stupid thing he pulled during the exams.

"bold of you to assume that she came willingly," jean replied, and that was followed by many murmurs of agreement.

"she's just angry," said marco.

"i'll say," a deep voice commented: reiner. he sounded way too amused for your liking. did he need to be taught another lesson? "the little lady can fight."

"i'm holding that against you forever," chortled connie, and the rest of the table was now laughing, but you could also hear that reiner was too, a deep chuckle emitted from his chest. "she showed you —"

"if she can do that to reiner, just imagine what she could do to you," said sasha, but her voice was extremely muffled. you came to the conclusion that her mouth was full.

"jokes on you, i'm not on her bad side!"

idiot, you thought, knowing that everyone was currently on your bad side whether they had spoken to you or not.

"for your own sake, i hope none of you are," commented jean, and as much as you hated him entertaining this conversation, you appreciated how he was correct.

"hypocrite," you heard the stupid green-eyed boy voice. just the thought of his smug face made you want to punch something.

"not again," sighed armin.

"what did you just call me?" jean shot back. for once in your life, you were siding with him.

"you heard me," said eren, the idiot being unable to back down, "you're always on her bad side!"

"yeah, and wanna know where that got me?" jean challenged loudly. "cleaning horse shit, that's where. you should be grateful i'm even warning you about it, jaeger. you're not on her good side either."

"what did you do?" a cooler female voice asked: it sounded to you like mikasa. you figured that she was directing the question to eren.

"nothing!" proclaimed eren.

the urge to turn around and swing your arm at his neck was growing more tempting, equivalent to an itch at the spine you couldn't exactly reach. how dare the little punk lie about what he'd done?

on instinct, you whipped your head over your shoulder, glaring daggers at the particular table at the centre of the mess hall that housed all the people that thought it was okay to talk about you as if you could not hear them despite their low voices. sasha yelped when you had made eye contact, connie began coughing profusely, jean (though his back was to you) had stiffened up, shoulders raising in tense movement, marco was gulping down large amounts of water, mina was fixing her hair (though you noticed there was actually nothing to be fixed), franz kefka began laughing shakily, armin began playing with his food, nac tias turned away, eren's ears went pink, and reiner and bertholdt were now conversing in a conversation that had little to do with you — although you noticed how their eyes would dart back to you every once in a while. mikasa was the only one being normal.

you turned away, continuing your walk, but keeping your ears open.

"way to go, idiot," you heard jean curse, "now she knows we're talking."

"how is this my fault?" demanded eren, offended.

"shout a little louder, won't you?" jean snapped. "it's not like she's only a few feet away from us —"

"isn't it your job to calm her down?" a bemused sasha asked, her voice lowered by the plate on her face. when you looked, you caught sight of her snacking on the crumbs left over. "i mean," she began, slamming the plate onto the table dramatically, "what kind of a friend are you, huh? oh, not you, marco. i meant horse-face —"

"you don't see me calling you potato girl every time!" exploded jean, scandalised. "so quit it!"

"to answer your question," intervened marco, nervous, "even though it's not for me, y/n has a good way of pissing jean off in ways that even eren can't —"

"stretch," commented jean, bored.

"okay, so maybe not as much as eren —"

"you talk about me like i'm not right in front of you!" exclaimed eren, and the urge to leap across where you were currently standing to strangle him to death had only grown at the sound of his loud voice.

"i'm gonna punch you," jean threatened, and then you heard multiple voices of protest over eren's own challenge of 'oh yeah? bring it on'.

commotion was now sounding from the mess hall; it wasn't helping the little voice inside of your head urging you to throw a tantrum worthy of shaking away all the attention from the eren-and-jean drama to focus on you. so, angrier than you had been when you first walked in, you stomped away, making little attempt to create the loud noise from the meeting of your heel and the floor, yet it sounded anyway, some people turning around and watching you instead of the rowdy table at the centre of the room.

only, the second you had passed the double doors, your forehead clashed against the rough harnesses belonging to someone who was tall enough to tower over you. groaning as you took a step back to rub your pained head in annoyance, you opened your eyes to find the culprit you were willing to hit, only to be met with your arch-nemesis: keith shadis.

of course it had to be him. it just had to be him to be the one hurting you some way or another, and it only irked you more that he had managed to do it in your lowest moment.

you knew you couldn't raise a hand against him. after every single problem you had fallen into, none of them would amount to this if you even tried to make them. even on your weirdest days, you knew better than to attack the commandant (even if you had an entire plan made at the back of your head where you were sure never to be caught).

"what did you do this time?" he asked, sounding so confident that you were the cause of the argument behind you.

that made you smug.

he was wrong.

"it wasn't me," you told him coldly.

"i've heard that more times than i can count," he responded, glaring daggers at you, "and not once has it ever been true."

okay.. fair, you thought to yourself reluctantly. still, at least now he truly was wrong.

and then an idea rose to your head.. a brilliant one, one that would have your victim begging for your forgiveness, knowing never to mess with you again.

"it was eren," you stated quickly, attempting to form the most honest face possible.

the commandant regarded you with little emotion, raising a thin brow at you so that the lines on his forehead became much more prominent. you fought to keep your face truthful.

"jaeger?" he said skeptically. "what did —"

"he was going to start a fight," you informed him knowingly. technically it wasn't a complete lie, it was half the truth really.

"with —"

"with jean."

"biased."

"no it's not!" you argued, almost, nearly stomping on his foot in fury. you didn't, of course, knowing better. "when have you ever seen me side with jean, huh?"

he looked up, eyes searching the ceiling above you as he delved deep into thought. you waited impatiently, scanning his shrivelled up features in a silent fit of rage. could he take any longer?

he looked back down at you, shrugging. "i suppose not.. like the odd thing you are, you don't ever seem to side with your own friend when he's in a mishap with that jaeger."

you smiled, radiant and true. he wasn't lying, of course, for every time jean and eren would begin arguing — in order to piss your friend off a little more, for the sake of it — you would always cheer eren on at the back; he also thought it was weird, you could tell from the way he would scrunch up his brows at you at the end of everything without actually saying much, but you didn't seem to mind. so long as you got to see jean and that funny pout he'd make when he was annoyed at you, you were content all the same.

"i can tell you what happened from beginning to end," you announced proudly.

keith raised a hand, a gesture for you to halt.

"you won't even get to the end with how much you crap you spew," he said, and you found yourself frowning at him, contemplating whether to fart in his face once more (to remind him just who he was talking to) or leave him be. you decided on the latter.

that did not mean you wouldn't show him some attitude, though.

you pushed your chin in the air, hands clasped behind your back as you stepped to the side to leave.

"stop right there, scum," he ordered, and you obeyed, halting in your place. he continued. "stay here while i sort this shit out. move an inch and you'll find yourself cleaning again."

you said nothing, eyeing him blankly. he waited, as if expecting you to do something. very well then, if that was what he wanted, and you liked a bit of a challenge, too.

you raised a hand, your pointer finger lifted, and poked the air.

"are you hard of hearing?!" he shouted, the mess hall going quiet. it seemed that the cadets in there had finally caught on to his silent (well not so silent now) presence. "i said, don't —"

you poked the air again.

he shook his head, sighing to himself.

"what was i expecting?" you heard him grumble, before you were left with a bit of ringing in your left ear after he parted his bottom and top lip once more. "JAEGER!"

you grinned. now this was a sight you yearned to see.

turning on the spot, you revealed the smug look on your face, met with the bewildered looks plastered over the faces of every single cadet surrounding the rowdy table at the centre of the room. several people began scattering away like a herd of sheep in a farm. at the middle of the once-present huddle, were jean and eren, both standing side by side, yet looking out of breath.

when jean had made eye contact with you, he looked as though he was about to be sick, a type of green coating the expanse of his pale skin. you rolled your eyes: it was obvious that he was assuming that you were on eren's side and attempting to get him in trouble with keith again.

stupid jean.

"GET OVER HERE," keith demanded. you stepped away, silently cursing at whoever gave this man a voice louder than a rooster.

eren hesitated.

"TODAY!"

with a sideways glance at his two best friends, eren swallowed down any form of anger he had left in him and held his head high, walking over to the commandant and forming the salute position.

"sir."

keith, with both his hands clasped behind his back, walked forward so that he was almost nose-to-nose with the brunette boy. you watched in glee as eren was met with the sight you had been faced with a million times. this was a taste of what he basically had you go through previously. stifling a chuckle, you pursed your lips when you saw eren grimace.

"WHAT WERE YOU DOING, BOY?"

you could sit back and watch this all day. it felt relieving watching someone else other than yourself getting in trouble.

"i was.." began eren, who seemed to be struggling to find the right words.

he hasn't got a clue in the world, you thought, satisfied. with keith, nobody was right but himself (how narcissistic of the bald bastard), but it worked in your favour in this very case. poor eren is under the impression that there's some sort of answer he can pull out from the abyss where keith would release him, where keith would accept it and he could go about his day again.

he couldn't be any more wrong than now.

"WHAT, JAEGER? YOU WERE WHAT?"

patience also wasn't something that keith possessed.

you had cursed this fact multiple times, but for once, it tasted like honey on your deprived tongue.

"i —" stammered eren, growing frustrated with himself, "i was defending myself, sir!"

"defending?" repeated keith, and there was something about the lowered tone of his voice that unlike everybody else, you recognised.

you knew keith like the back of your hand. if he was beginning to grow agitated, you would know. if he was delighted (though it was a rare occasion) you would know. if he was exhausted, you would know. if he was feeling merciful (again, a rare occasion) you would know.

so unlike everyone else, all of whom were expecting him to let eren be without a punishment — you'd heard nac tias whisper just now about how 'jaeger got lucky' — you became well aware of what was going to happen to eren.

and you were beyond ecstatic.

"how could you possibly be defending yourself, jaeger," started keith, face hardening like stone, "IF YOU WERE THE ONE WHO STARTED IT?"

the look on eren's face was enough to have you slap a hand over your mouth to prevent a single sound slip; if only you were as good of an artist as jean was, you would have begun drawing his face right now, have it hung on your bedroom door to look at every morning.

his muscles had softened, eyes going hazy and distracted, jaw un-tightening, lips parting, brows un-knitting.. before they went back to being more firm again with only one difference you could note: his fists were clenched.

"but i didn't —"

"I HATE LIARS!"

and before eren could even begin to explain himself, keith strode forward and grabbed eren by the back of his neck, forcing him to walk along with him as he lead him to the exit of the mess hall right where you were residing.

as they made their way past you, you and eren had made eye contact, one where you could see the fire burning behind his viridian eyes, and he could see the light shining behind yours: he was well aware of how fucked he was now, and you thought it was best to rub it in his face even more.

so, leaning back against the wall, you winked.

or tried to, at least.

the thing was, you were good at everything you tried.. apart from winking.

it was a gamble, really, choosing to do the one thing you could not do in a victorious moment like this. your wink came out more like a hard blink or so, perhaps something even worse (judging by the confusion written all over eren's face as he left, his lips silently moving: you read it as 'what is she doing?').

"yo, why's your eye twitching like that?" connie called out from the distance.

"fudge," you uttered under your breath, facing the crowd of people now staring at you.

"your eye," clarified connie, pointing at you, "it was —"

"i was winking!" you interrupted, disgruntled.

"that's your wink?" he asked, and he did not give you time to respond before he began howling with laughter, clutching onto sasha's arm to prevent himself from falling.

you stared at him, a neutral face with no emotion. his laughing went on for what felt like hours before sasha shoved him off her and he fell. sitting himself upright (still laughing) he choked when he met your gaze, holding his mouth and practically pinching it.

"i'm not — i'm not laughing —"

"liar. he totally was," sasha helpfully commented.

it seemed as though he had realised the severity of his actions. tough luck for him, then.

"you're next," you threatened icily.

and as the mess hall began going back to normal — with a few glances at armin and mikasa, both of whom did not seem angry (like how you expected them to be) — jean and marco were back by your side, one more brooding than the other.

"i'm at loss for words," said marco, shaking his head. "i can't believe —"

"i can't believe it," said jean, expressing his surprise by placing a hand on your shoulder and gripping tight enough to crease your ironed jacket. "you sided with me, for once. thanks."

you shrugged his hand off you, scowling at him. "i didn't do it for you," you revealed, scoffing.

jean blinked.

exchanged a blank look with marco.

and then blinked again.

but then he began smiling, and he looked disgusting doing it. you wished you had some sort of magical ability to wipe the smirk off his face. no wonder he's got no bitches, you thought, grimacing at the way his brows began wriggling at you.

"yeah, sure," he said, too confident for your liking.

"stop making that face," you told him firmly, "you're gonna make me eye-vomit."

jean didn't speak to you for the rest of lunch.

not that he could even if he wanted to anyway. for keith had returned not long after and gave you an earful for moving away from where he had left you. growing annoyed at your life once more, you left him to shout at nothing when you stomped out of the mess hall, ignoring his calls of your name for you to return.

but he was that persistent, you were actually surprised.

usually, you were able to accurately predict the commandant's next move, mainly because you had become familiarised with everything he would do. yet today, somehow, you were wrong. assuming that he would punish you later for ignoring him, you were left with your mouth opened agape when you heard a pair of footsteps following you out of the mess hall. perhaps it was another cadet who had finished their lunch..

wrong.

because he was still calling after you.. and threatening you too.

you turned around, a hand over your eyes to shield yourself from the intense gaze of the sun, staring at the tanned man with narrowed eyes, blinking profusely up at him.

"let me make this CLEAR," he started, furious, "KNOW YOUR POSITION, SCUM. AND POSITION NUMBER THIRTY-NINE SHOULD, IF ANYTHING, LESSEN YOUR CONFIDENCE!"

you stayed silent. or opted to, at least, because holding your tongue was never an easy task for you.

"actually, it's position number thirty-eight," you corrected, disappointed at his stupidity. "get it right."

"big difference."

"well, actually, i believe —"

"i don't have time for opinionated statements," declared keith, sniffing loudly. no grace and decorum, clearly. "even more so that they're coming from you."

"if you're done insulting me, kei—"

he had straightened up, almost daring you to finish the last two letters. you knew better than to end up like eren, of course.

"i'm willingly here to talk to you for a reason, you little shit," informed keith, staring down at you in a way that you knew would make little krista shiver and cry. "i'm not impressed."

you waited.

and waited.

and then could wait no longer.

"er.. what do you want me to do about that?"

"I'M NOT FINISHED!"

"all right, geez man, it's not that personal," you quickly mumbled, stepping back because at this rate, with how often your ears fell victim to the constant yelling, you were positive you'd go deaf in your mid-twenties (and that's if you're lucky).

"YOU, CADET L/N, COULD HAVE DONE MUCH BETTER THAN NUMBER FOURTY!"

"it's thirty-eight —"

"WHY ARE YOU SLACKING?" he demanded, the whites of his eyes dominating. "HAVE YOU GRADUATED YET? WHAT REASON IS THERE FOR YOU TO RELAX?" keith took a deep breath in and used it to form his next statement. "you dropped thirty places —"

"twenty-eight places, actually —"

"SHUT IT!"

you pursed your lips apologetically, allowing him to continue.

"the scouting legion might accept anything after ten but I. DO. NOT!"

you raised your eyebrows. there were many things about today that had you spiralling in confusion. yes, your ranking is definitely not the best, but you had been watching the commandant carefully (not for the reasons anyone else might be thinking, like watching for trouble) and you had yet to see him approach a cadet who had gotten much lower than you and scold them like now. what made you the exception?

"well that's inevitable," you defended yourself calmly, "someone has to be past ten. after the first ten positions are taken, everyone else is automatically placed past ten, what would you do then?"

"YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF A POSITION PAST NUMBER TEN, MAGGOT!"

he was shouting praises at you, now? were you to be flattered or offended? were you to cry or laugh?

"er.. thanks?"

"extra training, four in the morning tomorrow, on the training field. do not be late."

"four in the — but i didn't agree to this!" you exclaimed, scandalised. "but that means i get no sleep at all.. regular training starts at eight!"

"TOUGH!" spat the commandant, shrugging. "it depends on just how nice your trainer is."

you pondered for a moment. "that means it's not you then, is it?"

"do you honestly believe, in your right mind, that i would lose an extra three hours of sleep, for you no less?" he questioned, and now fully paying attention, it did make sense, for the enmity between you two was not unrequited after all.

you responded by shaking your head, expecting him to say something after that. when he didn't, you decided that you would ask him about your queries.

"so who is training me?"

"another higher up," he responded vaguely.

you frowned. "yeah, but who?"

"do not chase him away."

you blinked, raising a brow at him skeptically. one, how did he even come to that conclusion? and two, he had completely disregarded your previous question, answering another that you had not even been curious about. unlucky for him then, because you could tell that he desired nothing more than for you to shut up; he had only piqued your interest, resulting in more questions fired back at him.

"why would i chase him away?"

"do you really want me to answer that question?"

"why else would i have asked it?"

"it's a massive jab at your damn ego."

"i don't have a big ego! you're the one who —"

his glare, if possible, had hardened even further. perhaps it wasn't the right time to pick a fight.

you cleared your throat awkwardly.

"do i know this person?"

"what's his name?"

"have i at least seen him before?"

"have i ever been reprimanded by him?"

"what's his —"

"IF YOU DON'T KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, CADET, YOU'LL WISH YOU HADN'T EVER STEP FOOT IN THE TRAINING CORPS!"

you gave him the dirtiest look you could muster, and that threat was not correct at all. for one, you would never back down without a fight, and secondly, it was because you had decided to join the training corps that you had seen captain levi, something that you would never regret, so no amount of fear or punishment could drive you to that wish.

could keith be any more wrong today?

he usually always was wrong when it came to you, but the numbers had increased significantly after this conversation.

without a second word, keith had decided that he had had more than enough of seeing you today, and turned away, marching down the field and into the mess hall. you had decided that he was probably going to torment the other kids now, partly because you had put him in an even more sour mood than usual: you felt no remorse when you heard yelling from a distance. the cadets had really annoyed you today, too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you woke up just before four in the morning to freshen up as you usually would do.. but earlier.

mumbling curses and profanities, you made your way over to the training field. it was empty, despite it being four o'clock sharp. typical. whoever your trainer was, he had no regard for etiquette, clearly. you could have decided to come in late, too, but decided otherwise. how hypocritical.

you settled yourself against the brick wall beside the double doors belonging to the mess hall, head tilted back as you gazed up at the night sky. sunrise had not arrived yet, so the stars were still present, glimmering and glittering where they sit against the clouds, dark as the colour of his hair. you wondered whether he was also watching the same stars as you were now, the thought bringing a warm and gentle fire to light up at the centre of your chest where your heart hid behind. the fairy-tale suggestion made no sense, of course. it was four in the morning, he was most likely asleep right now.

you became envious of the fact that you could have been sleeping right now, had it not been for your commandant and his petty rivalry with you.

distracted and dazed, the one thing that pulled you out of your stupor (and the way in which your eyes had been super-glued to the sight above you) footsteps could be heard approaching from in front of you somewhere, the heels of someone's boots clashing against the concrete floors. you averted your gaze immediately, met with the sight of your trainer..

it was instructor claude duvalier!

keith had really gone out of his way this time, it seemed, for the instructor standing before you governed the northern division of the 104th. you were residing at the southern division.

however, before you could say anything as you pushed yourself off the wall, his neutral expression formed into one of horror at the sight of you.

"you?" he cried, looking outraged, scandalised, and betrayed all at the same time.

you were going to politely introduce yourself, before he began shaking his head, taking several steps back. you, on instinct, began taking those same number of steps forward, confused.

"they never told me it was you i had to work with!"

well that wasn't very nice, you thought, beginning to grow agitated and galled.

"well i don't wanna work with you either, then!" you announced, folding your arms over your chest as you sneered at him.

"i don't care!"

"neither do i!"

"he told me it was a 'cadet who was capable'!"

you raised your eyebrows, offended. "you think i'm not capable?"

the instructor was now a great length of distance away from you. he tutted. "the ranking speaks for itself —"

you don't know what came over you, but your eyes flashed. blinded by red, you stomped over to him, furious and indignant, ignoring the look of panic flashing across his features.

"well let me speak for myself," you threatened, getting no where because he dashed away the second you uttered the final word. you contemplated running after him, but thought against it, already fatigued and breathless.

keith was going to give you an earful in the morning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"i thought you'd be tired."

"why?"

"you had training today, didn't you?"

".."

"..didn't you?"

"y/n —"

because exams had finished, the timetable had gone back to its usual, dull schedule, and jean, marco, and y/n were currently sitting in the classroom answering practice questions that had previously appeared in their exams. they weren't just any questions of course, only questions that that all cadets commonly got wrong.

"what did you do this time?" groaned jean, who had actually been focusing on the work for the first time. ever since the exams, there had been a new glint in jean's hazel eyes: you chalked it down to being a newfound determination to one-up marco on the list of rankings. because of that, during the classroom sessions (which had been revealed was his weakest) he would keep his head down and only look up to subtly join the conversation between you and marco, answer questions from the teacher, and — perhaps — insult you here and there.

you scowled, wishing that marco wasn't sandwiched in between you so you could kick him. the seating plan used to be different: you used to be placed in between jean and marco, but it had become clear that you and jean could not stop fighting, hence distracting the entire class and annoying your teacher. so, naturally, you had been forced to migrate to a different table, a different seat. this hadn't happened once, of course, because you had somehow managed to distract people everywhere you went. with little patience and a whole lot of tiredness, your teacher finally came to the conclusion that only marco could bring some form of peace between jean and you, which resulted in you reuniting with your friends, but marco separating you.

"i hate how you assume i'm to blame," you told him, brows closing in on each other as you leaned forward into marco's side to speak directly to jean.

jean lifted his pen up to continue writing, eyes trained on his question paper as he spoke. "because when is it not you?"

"now," you answered, irate, "honest!"

"i don't think she's lying," said marco, helpfully. "so what happened, then?"

you re-told the story in one simple sentence.

"he ran away from me."

you did not appreciate the way jean did not bother hiding his laughter. at least marco was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from even smiling, but jean made absolutely no effort to stop laughing. you had the inexplicable desire to scrunch up your own question sheet and throw it in his open mouth.

"only you," sputtered jean, barely recovering from his rude laughter, "only — you!"

the class had ended not long after, and as you all packed up ready for your break time, you noticed eren (who had been sitting a couple rows up in front of you) looking back and sending you weird looks. you'd seen him trying to catch your eye beforehand too, but ultimately ignored him. you had no doubt in your mind that it most likely had something to do with how you had gotten him into trouble the day before. had it been anyone else, they would have backed off by now, not try to annoy you even further. what will it take for this guy to learn his lesson?

you had been the first to finish packing up, standing behind your tucked in chair as you waited for your slow friends to hurry it up already. however, the drumming of your nails against your chair had come to a halt when your teacher had called out your name abruptly. you lifted your head just the slightest bit to show him that you were listening.

"commandant shadis has called for you."

quiet sniggering sounded around the room; jean had started it, which encouraged others to continue it.

"he's waiting outside for you."

good, you thought to yourself as you walked out of the classroom, thankful, because when he begins to shout at you, at least it won't be in the presence of everyone else.. excusing the fact that they would probably hear him regardless.

sure enough, there he was, standing in his usual straight posture that made him look as stiff as a board. he did not look too pleased, either (not that he ever did, to be fair).

"sir!" you stated, doing the usual salute, a closed fist over your heart with your other arm resting against your back.

"i'm going to ask you very politely," began keith, sounding as though he was containing himself like he would explode if he didn't at least try, "what the hell happened?"

would playing dumb work?

you supposed not.

you decided to stick to the truth.

"he ran away from me."

keith blinked, seemingly tired. you noticed something new about the look on his face, however, as if he wasn't at all too surprised with this information, as if he actually believed you without a doubt, something that he had never actually done before.

his hand came up, and you actually had to think whether he was going to strike you down in anger, but waiting for the blow was useless, especially when you saw that his hand was pressing against his own face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he shut his eyes tight, the lines pulling at each end of his eyes to emphasise his age.

after what seemed like ten dawdling years, the time in which people were now exiting the classrooms, he looked back down at you, sighing. "did he say anything before he ran?"

they never told me it was you i had to work with!

"yeah," you said, nodding. "he was quite rude, actually —"

"in the report he gave me," interrupted keith, exasperated, "he mentioned how you threatened him —"

"i have no regrets."

"WELL YOU SHOULD!"

you didn't know what else you expected but to be yelled at. you winced nonetheless.

keith sighed loudly, reminding you once again just how dramatic the male species was.

"i've found you a new trainer," he informed you firmly. "do not chase this one away, do you hear me? unless you want to end up back in the stables again for a longer period of time, cadet, i suggest you FIX UP!"

"so.. who's my trainer?"

"find out tomorrow, four in the morning."

"but —"

"ARE YOU DEAF?"

"already on my way there with how much you scream in my ear," you grumbled to yourself, walking away after giving him a much more lousier salute.

you hoped this new trainer would actually stick to being your trainer, whoever they were.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you were most definitely not an early bird by any means. if you had any opportunity to sleep in, you would take it without question. hell, even if you weren't allowed to sleep in, you'd do it regardless of the consequences. it had come to the point where a higher up would have to pour water over your face to get you up and running (there had been a time where you had pretended to be in a very deep sleep, even when it was pretty obvious that no one would be able to sleep through keith's bellowing).

but here you were, up and early, strict on four o'clock sharp as you paced up and down the training field. you had admired the stars merely five minutes earlier as you had nothing to do. perhaps this would have been a little more enjoyable if you were accompanied by jean or marco (you would never let jean know that this had ever come to your mind anyway — everyone knew his ego was higher than his ridiculous height). the mere thought of him made you want to spit on the poor ground.

but four o'clock sharp was definitely valued by your new trainer, a man you had never seen before. he appeared through the dark shadows of the trees that were illuminated by the light the moon gave off to create colossal shapes of blackness over the grass.

exhausted as you were (for you had woken up before four in the morning twice in a week now), you did not bother asking the man who he was, what his occupation at the training corps was, what he ranked during his time here. you simply could not be bothered to, fatigue shown in your face and body (your posture has never been more worse).

so, you went straight for it, asking him what he expected you to do and how to do it.

"so, teach, what am i doing first?"

he was a bit of a buzzkill, you had decided, for he quickly reprimanded you for calling him 'teach'. and not saluting, too.

"twenty push-ups!" he demanded, voice raised yet not loud enough to penetrate the walls hiding the area where the rest of the cadets were peacefully sleeping behind (you envied them so much).

but just because you were tired, that did not mean that you would stand for getting into trouble first thing in the morning (before regular training even begins, that had to be a world record, right?).

"i never did anything wrong, why should i do push-ups this early? i'm tired."

looking thoroughly surprised and irked, the man rose his bushy brow up to reveal the lines on his forehead. it looked like lined paper, and you had an odd sort of desire to simply write over it: buzzkill teach.

"pardon you?" the trainer coughed, brows furrowed to form a deep crease in between.

you froze.

had you said that line out loud?

judging from the stiffness of the man's body and the way in which he was now placing his hand over his forehead told you the troubling answer. you wanted to kick yourself. you apologised several times, but he was simply not having any of it. moments later, he ordered you to do five laps around the field. normally, you would groan and show your dislike for such a tiresome exercise, yet you felt terrible about that comment you had accidentally made, that you silently went for it without complaint.

not for long, though.

one and a half laps in and you were dying, throat constricting and lungs practically collapsing. your legs came to a stop, chest burning for air, heaving forward and back as you took in deep breaths. buzzkill teach had spotted your halt, and had several things to say about it.

he came forward, demanding that you start running again even if one of your legs fell off. he insisted that you leave it behind, even. well that sounded ridiculous to you, and you being you..

well you had to express it. you just had to.

"that's stupid," you stated. "if one of my legs get detached from my body, i'll sue you."

"you'll what?"

"sue you," you repeated, rolling your eyes. "did you not hear me the first time?"

"push-ups, NOW!"

"no."

you were growing really frustrated with buzzkill teach, particularly when he had begun shouting at you not even half an hour later for some reason.

"you think i wanted to be here?" he began, when you had refused to climb up a tree. apparently it was a survival technique or something. "i'm the only one that agreed to train you knowing that it was you, everyone else refused!"

you blinked up at him. "was that supposed to evoke sympathy from me?"

he let out a loud growl of frustration.

you were growing to dislike this man; you knew, deep down in your heart, that you were spiteful with people that you disliked (just look at keith). so, when he had revealed that the first thing you would be properly training for would be hand-to-hand combat -- seeing as he was 'scared' to let you approach odm gear for odm training -- you felt the light from the moon radiate against your skin, allowing you to glow with glee.

"don't do that," he said, as soon as he caught sight of you grinning. "it frightens me."

you tried stopping the curl of your lips, but it was simply inevitable.

you held so much dislike for this trainer of yours, buzzkill teach, that you knew you could vent it all out on HIM through hand-to-hand combat. he probably was not alerted of how good you were at it. although he was a professional (more qualified than you, that was for sure) you eyed his physique, and his mannerisms, and the way he behaved, and the odd stance he took before you fought him, and you knew that this one was certainly in the bag.

you won. of course you did.

and when he was on the floor, you did not stop, pulling him closer to you by the collar and narrowing your eyes at him.

"you look good with that black eye," you told him.

training ended very quickly after that, and when you waved goodbye to him, referring to him as buzzkill teach, he did not reprimand you for it at all.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

keith was not happy with you the next morning.

still, he insisted that you wake up at four in the morning tonight, claiming that he had found a new trainer for you.

"are you pulling these trainers out of a hat or something? how do you find so many?"

"get out of my office."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

when your alarm had woken you up mercilessly, you felt groggier than usual as you secured your harnesses over your shirt and shoved your arms through the sleeves of your smooth jacket. it was only once you had passed your bedside table again to look for a hair tie, you knew just why: it took you several moments to realise the mistake you had made, blinking at the time that read 3:30am.

like a fool, you had set your alarm (by mistake) to wake you up thirty minutes earlier than expected, leaving you an extra thirty minutes to do absolutely nothing. that time, you realised, could have been best used for some extra sleep.

sighing to yourself in frustration, you aggressively shoved the hair tie into your front pocket, mentally noting how you would wear it once it was time to go out. right now, you had lots of time to spare.

eyeing your bed with a look of desire, you contemplated just lying back and resting your eyes, but decided not to in the end. you knew where it would lead you: in a deep slumber, snoring just like sasha was across the spacious room. you would kill to be in her position, face squished against the soft pillow and body hidden beneath the thick covers.

you became envious very quickly, and whilst you had been wallowing in your self-pity, you had lost track of time. the next time your eyes wandered over to your clock, all you five senses had become buzzed in alarm: it read 3:58am — it usually takes a bit around five minutes to make it down to the training field from the barracks.

jumping off your bed with little regard for the noise you were making (had sasha just turned over on her bed?), you dashed out of your room, heels smacking against the sleek wooden floors as you made your way down the corridor to the training field. perhaps if you took off sprinting, you would make it there in less than five.

heart pumping, with a new stitch forming in your mid-section, you leaned a hand against the wall outside, catching your breath. when you looked up groggily, you were sure your eyes were deceiving you. maybe you had somehow hit your head on the way down here, or maybe you were hitting the next stage of crazy, but was that your new trainer? the little man in the distance, looking irritated and as though he would want to be anywhere else in the world but here?

your husband, levi?

what was going on?

but you couldn't dwell on it any longer, because as you made your way closer and closer to him, he directed his infamous scowl towards you instead, a small crease formed in between his dark brows that were knitting together the longer his stormy, grey eyes were on you.

"you're late," he informed you, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

really? you thought to yourself, unsure. "what time is it?" you asked, and you were thankful that your voice sounded steady despite the internal conflict going on inside your head.

he threw something at your chest which you (on instinct) grabbed with your hand, pulling it up to your face to examine. it was a pocket watch, and it read 4:01am.

you raised a brow at your lover, turning the pocket watch over so he could see what sight you had been previously met with.

"it's been a minute," you told him when he had remained silent.

he regarded you with little emotion. "a minute too late."

"it's one minute —"

"you're still late —"

"fashionably," you corrected, gesturing to your clothes.

the captain's eyes raked over your body, and you flushed despite yourself.

"the uniform is a requirement," he stated not long after.

you nodded. "fair point, but have you seen the way some of the cadets here wear it? it's all scruffy. what's their excuse when i'm up four hours before regular training and i still clean up nicely?"

he seemed too tired to even argue with you on that, opting to give you a dirty look instead. you smiled nonetheless, which he casually chose to ignore.

"you turn up even half a second late tomorrow, and i'm leaving you here alone. understood?"

you said nothing: he glared at you.

you still said nothing: he exhaled shortly.

"what's wrong with you? you need to take a shit or something?"

you shook your head.

"then what? hurry it up, we're already behind."

"you do realise that i sleep here, right? so you can't actually leave me behind if i choose to —"

"it's an order."

you shrugged. "i have free will."

he tilted his head sideways to regard you with a look of something between annoyance and tiredness. even without the light from daytime to help you decipher the calculating look on his face, you could still see the gears turning in his head, rotating as he stared not even at you, but as if he was staring straight through, directly through your own soul. if he wasn't who he was, you might have been a little intimidated.

"free will to disobey orders?" he challenged, not exactly pleased but not exactly harsh either.

you took this time to stall, slowly, leisurely, and steadily placing the pocket watch he had handed you in your back pocket. his eyes kept darting from you to something else, you could not tell what it was, but you hoped that he hadn't spotted you skilfully stealing.

he seemed to have decided that talking to you was a mere waste of time, for he promptly turned away and announced that you had to run three laps around the wide field as a warm up; you choked on your own spit.

"why aren't we starting with stretches?" you asked, startled. "we always start with stretches —"

"are you questioning my orders?" he interrupted icily. despite the fact that he was facing you, back against one of the colossal trees, it was as if he wasn't actually looking at you.

you exhaled, defeated. "no."

"no?"

"sir," you finished, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

perhaps it would be better to see the brighter side of things, like you usually chose to do. captain levi was not keith, so there would be no reason to defy his commands. furthermore, he was captain levi — you'd do whatever he asked even if it was to lick mud off his boot.

so, smiling, you spent the next twenty minutes or so running around the training field, the sky barely turning even a single shade brighter as you continued. every time you looked up, admiring the stars and the very precise placement of each one against the smoky clouds, you'd hear the captain bark at you to focus, he event went through the trouble of calling you an imbecile, too. how nice of him.

after half of the second lap was complete, your legs wobbled, and an annoying stitch was beginning to form at your side. had it been anyone else from the 104th, they would have continued running even if one of their limbs had fallen off, but you had more self-respect than anyone.

so you dropped to the floor, stomach flat against the concrete with your cheek resting against it. he wanted you to complete three laps? what a joke. you loved that man, truly, you did, but this was only proof that you needed to spend more time together. he clearly did not know you well enough as he truly believed that you were capable of completing that monstrosity of an order.

the concrete felt cool under your skin, a scarce contrast to how warm your body felt. if only you could just lie here forever —

but a force was now pulling your head up by your hair (and it was not gentle at all). before you could even let out a groan of protest, there was a voice in your ear, deep and familiar.

"what do you think you're doing?" captain levi demanded, harsh.

you shut your eyes, wanting to feel the coolness against your cheek again. however, when you tried to drop your head, you felt a sharp pain tug at the roots of your hair: the captain was still holding on for dear life, it seemed.

"i can't do it," you admitted, still trying to lower your head. "three laps is too much."

he did not miss a beat when responding. "and that's why you're nearly at the bottom of the ranking list."

you raised your head, turning to look at him with a frown. you had not realised just how close he had gotten, so when your eyes had lifted to stare up at his, you noticed how he had leaned back ever so slightly. even so, you replied as if you hadn't noticed.

"thirty-eight," you said, begrudgingly. "that's not near the bottom —"

"anything below ten is near the bottom," he declared, pulling on your hair as if to drill the thought into your head through painful discipline.

you yelped, a hand flying up to grab at his — which was extremely unrelenting, you had to add — to ease the pain. not even a second later, he loosened his iron grip, your hair slipping through his fingers as you dropped. you awaited the pain that would come when your skull crashed against the hard ground, yet it never arrived.

instead, your forehead met the soft palm of captain levi's hand, a protector, a barrier, even, between you and the concrete beneath you.

you laid there for a moment, unmoving. you expected him to leave you there, removing his hand, yet it seemed that he had no intention to, for he remained, perhaps for a minute or so, before slowly taking his hand back. slowly, maybe, to warn you that your head would be meeting the ground again: you raised your head to help.

"could have given yourself a concussion," you heard him say, and the sound of shuffling that filled the next few seconds of silence told you that he was standing now, now longer crouched over you, "idiot."

"i could have lost both my legs, actually," you corrected, staring up at him. he was glaring, as per usual. "and it was because of your order, making me run three laps —"

"which you haven't even completed," he interrupted, arms folded over his chest with a sneer on his face. "you have half a lap to go."

"but —"

"stop wasting time."

so, reluctantly, you got up, dusting yourself off (he tutted when all that dirt came flying off your clothes with each pat), and you completed the last half of your laps.. not without some scolding, though. every time you began skipping instead of running, he would make very.. creative.. violent threats about what he would do to you. on one occasion, you actually laughed when he said he'd break your legs and use them as blades for the coming-expedition.

isn't it just so cute when your husband wants to show you off to everyone? you thought so too.

the second you reached the finish line of your three laps, he could not let out a single syllable before you dropped again, spent.

"are we done yet?" you sighed, exhausted.

"it's only been.." he began, but paused, as if realising something. the scowl he wore the entire time you had been here had turned to something worse. "oi, where's my pocket watch?"

you tensed; you hoped he did not catch you looking guilty.

"i've got a stitch in my side," you complained, praying that he would not notice the way you were attempting to change the conversation and direct his focus elsewhere. "hey, can you give me a massage?"

"like hell," he scoffed, annoyed. "now give it back."

you sat up, legs outstretched and elbows holding your weight. you grinned.

"give what back?"

"you know what."

"really?"

"don't act stupid."

"it's not an act."

"i have never met anyone who proudly admits to being stupid."

"well now you have."

"shocker," he said, and something about the tone of his voice told you that he was finally giving up. "i'm so surprised it's you."

you observed his perfect face.

"i don't even know if you're being sarcastic or not," you revealed truthfully, lifting an arm up. he raised a brow at your hand but made no movement to touch it. "help me up?"

"no."

"buzzkill."

"what did you just call me?"

you laughed, at last deciding to stand up on your own.

"so erwin told me you're always so unbothered —" you told him, as if telling a story.

"when did you get time to speak to him? —"

"and hange mentioned how you basically never react," you continued as if you hadn't heard him, "and all it took was being called a 'buzzkill' for you to be offended?"

"no, you brat," he denied swiftly, "you refuse to give me back my pocket watch."

"i don't have it," you lied, looking over your shoulder dramatically. "it must've fell when you made me do those three laps —"

"are you blaming me?" he asked, as if challenging you to a verbal contest with a higher up.

you looked him in the eye. "karma's a real female dog."

his eyebrows actually rose up at that comment, the first sign of real emotion you had seen from him today.

"did you just state the definition of 'bitch'?"

"i don't swear," you answered, clearing the confusion if there had been any. "it's improper and not very lady-like."

one brow of his raised higher than the other.

"you care about being lady-like?" he questioned, as if it were something supernatural and unbelievable.

your brows began knitting together, looking up at the captain with offence.

"why wouldn't i?" you questioned, folding your arms over your chest.

but it seemed that the captain had no interest in indulging in such a conversation with you.. or indulging in any conversation with you, for his usual scowl deepened and his posture (if even possible) straightened further.

"correct me if i'm wrong, but i've been told hand-to-hand combat is your forte."

"mhm," you hummed, nodding. "i've taken down guys that are much bigger than me."

"i don't doubt that," he replied, calm. "you already disarm people verbally."

you raised your brows.

"i don't know what that means."

"doesn't matter," he commented, "do you think you could handle fighting against me?"

you blinked, almost completely stupefied at the question. usually you were the one rendering people speechless with your questions and statements, so it had completely shocked you that you found yourself in that position other people were usually in: at loss for words.

you knew why you were hesitating, though, unlike everyone else who had once been in your shoes. captain levi wasn't that tall, though you could tell he had a nice build under all the clothes he was wearing, but size really did not matter, not when you (much smaller than reiner) managed to flip him over your back with ease. after all, facts quite literally prove that captain levi is humanity's strongest soldier. if size ever mattered, then the many titans he had managed to slay would have never been killed under his watch.

but, foolishly, you pushed the statistics at the back of your mind, smiling as you answered him.

"yes."

he raised a brow. and for once in your life, though you enjoyed the night in a way no one else could, you wished that it had been slightly brighter — you could have seen the look in his grey eyes, then.

captain levi thought to humour you for a bit. "what makes you so confident?"

you shrugged.

"i've only ever heard that you were good at fighting titans."

"you think you're a challenge after the titans?"

"no," you responded, "but you need odm gear to finish the titans off, don't you? hand-to-hand requires no weapons."

captain levi did not look impressed, nor did he look unimpressed with your response. he was a closed off book with a lock preventing any form of penetration, therefore you were unable to read him and understand what he means when he says such vague things, or even when he stands idly by, offering no reply to your thoughtful comments.

"ok," he settled on saying, his shoulders lifting slightly in what looked like a half-shrug.

and then you found yourself on the floor mere moments after he had declared that you fight him. you went easy on him, because there was no way you could actually bring yourself to injure your special man, yet it seemed that he did not hold the same regard for you.

"are you even trying?" he spat out, exasperated. "there's no way you were able to take down people that possess ten times your weight with that."

you were on your feet quicker than you had ever been. perhaps you ought to actually try this time.

"you didn't let me marinate my advances yet!" you complained, turning away from his watchful gaze. "i have to stretch before i do anything."

he kept his gaze set on your back, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "are you going to go out in the real world and tell your opponents to halt the fight just so you can stretch?"

whilst stretching your arm, you craned your neck over your shoulder to eye him blankly.

"why wouldn't i?"

he pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut, a crease forming between his brows where they closed in on each other, almost as if he had completely given up with you.

"stretch, then," he ordered, enervated.

when you were done stretching (the time in which you tried to gain his attention with more obscene movements — he did not go through the trouble of stopping himself when he asked if you keith had taught you those; you stopped angrily) you faced him once more, both of you taking your positions.

"ladies first," he had said, aloof.

"well apparently i'm not so lady-like, and you have very nice feminine features, so —"

he threw the first punch. it landed directly on your nose. you stumbled back, surprised.

"ow!"

but you had no time to complain, because he was charging at you again. you prepared yourself this time, grabbing onto his arm that swung at you with both hands and then kicking him in the stomach. he let out the smallest of grunts, which told you that you weren't doing too bad, before you went in for a second kick which he stop by grabbing your raised leg with his free hand.

there was only one solution then:

with both your hands occupied by that one arm of his, and your one leg held in his free hand, you decided you would bend yourself backwards so he would go flying over your top.

it worked, of course, but he had a swift landing, unlike everyone else you had competed with. that did not mean that he hadn't stumbled ever so slightly.

because he did. and then he turned around. and you knew what you would do then.

you ran at him, practically tackling him to the floor, and you landed on top of him, with a victorious look painted over your face when you caught sight of the baffled expression painted over his.

you straddled his hips, laughing at his startled face. you would have preferred it if his hands were placed on your hips, but instead, they were spread out on either of his sides, like the arms of a literal star.

you grinned. "did i win?"

the disconcerted look on his face had since then been replaced with a look of annoyance.

"no," he stated, putting emphasis on both letters in that single word.

you sent him a look of defiance. "that's not playing by the rules!"

"there are no rules," he shot back, visibly irritated. "now get off of me."

begrudgingly and reluctantly, you clambered off of him, sitting beside him as he sat up, dusting himself off.

"the floor is disgusting," he stated, grimacing. "you took me by surprise."

"no one's ever just.. floored you?" you asked, curious. he shook his head. "not very smart. it's my go-to move."

"why?"

"'cause the reaction is funny."

"well your hand-to-hand is fine."

"just fine?"

"don't push it."

"sorry."

he stood up, glaring at the floor.

"we don't have to work on that then."

and your heart dropped. it was the only part of training where you could actually find a reason to touch the captain without refusal. if you did not train for hand-to-hand, then you would not be able to touch him ever again.

a light bulb rose over your head, clicking on the second you had started planning. if you were bad at hand-to-hand, that meant that you had to keep practising regardless.

so just pretend to be bad at it.

"round 2!" you declared excitedly, standing up and placing both your hands on your hips.

captain levi had already decided what his thoughts were on that. "no."

"why not?"

"it's a waste of time, you already know how to —"

"one more time!" you pleaded, stepping forward. "one more time!"

and that was how you found yourself on your back, staring up at him with pain shooting up your spine. you did not play it lightly like you thought you would need to, because he was relentless either way.

captain levi clicked his tongue in distaste.

"you're doing it on purpose."

"huh?"

"i should've known."

"i'm confused."

"when are you not?"

you blinked up at him, baffled as your chest heaved up and down. nobody told you that the captain was that good at hand-to-hand, and now you had to pay the price, spine burning with pain and stomach flipped over in exhaustion.

he stood over you, the pool of grey in his eyes darkening in realisation.

"get up," he demanded icily.

"help me up," you shot back, lip curling.

his eyebrows rose, and for the first time, you saw the tiniest bit of emotion protruding from the man you knew to be void of any feelings. he scowled, eyes narrowing as he nudged your leg with his foot.

"are you aware of just how annoying you are?" he asked you, still as monotoned as ever.

you laughed, taking him by mild surprise.

"not annoying enough to have you ignore me, apparently."

and you noticed, with satisfaction blooming in your drained body, how he did not bother denying it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

i made my promise that i'd return in june, didn't i? :)

all characters belong to hajime isayama, apart from y/n, who i've inserted into the story myself.

previous chapter :) next chapter :)

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@inkthgoat @loki1230 @leviackermanst @awesomeness1679 @laccey @wandavengerberg @marumxy

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Drama CD - Shimabara Disturbance Track 1 English translation

Happy new year everyone! I know it’s kinda late to be saying that... but whatever. Decided that I’ll only be translating track 1 this month and then not doing anything else until after February 22 since I need to study like 700 pages of text.... sorry but not really sorry? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (committing to writing my exam has cost me +$1000 so yeah.)

Anyway, in regards to the Hakuoki dramas that I wanted translated, this one probably ranked first or second, right next to Shinsengumi Oni-tan... but it was too much work to go look up the sections that were missing from the tl I found for the longest time.

As a warning, I HIGHLY ADVISE AGAINST READING THIS IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED THROUGH THE SHIMABARA INFILTRATION MISSION FROM ZUISOUROKU (specifically Saito’s route, and I’m going stress the fact that this is NOT my bias speaking, and that this is a recommendation being made based on the drama itself, though it should probably be fine if you’ve watched the Hakuoki Sekkaroku anime...? Probably? Well, assuming that’s the one where they go to Shimabara since there are some spoilers for it too?).

Also, the promo video for this has been posted to my video blog if anyone wants to watch that. 

enjoy!

Hakuoki Drama CD - Shimabara Disturbance Track 1:  A Man Without Greed

Translation by KumoriYami

Hijikata: Thank you for all your hard work, Saito. It really was the right choice to leave capturing all the ronin at the inn to your Third Division.

Saito: Please don't say that, however, Vice-Commander, what is this money for?

Hijikata: It’s a bounty, a bonus for doing especially hard work. 

Saito: But, I was merely accomplishing my duties as a member of the Shinsengumi. How can I accept a bounty for it? Furthermore, this is too much.

Hijikata: I knew you wouldn't accept it. Forget it, I don't want to force you into accepting it because I often send you on difficult missions. If I give you the occasional reward, you shouldn't decline, and just accept it.

Saito: I understand, then I'll gratefully accept it.  

(Saito leaves the room and starts walking away)

Saito: A bounty...?

Saito: I can't betray the Vice-Commander's kindness, so I need to think about how to use this.... how should this best be used? Since there was so much of a bonus, it shouldn’t be spent all at once... In this case, exactly what should I do?

(sound of fighting from the dojo)

Saito: Hrm? It’s quite noisy in the dojo. is someone training the troops? I’ll go observe the situation..

Souji:  No good, no good~ your sword is too slow, your footwork is sloppy [or steps taken are too small. reword later?], and there are weaknesses everywhere! There are too many flaws, so if you don't want to die, you better work harder.  

Warrior:  Yes...

Saito: Hrm.

Souji: Areh, Hajime-kun, when did you get there/here? What's wrong? You look like you have something to say.

Saito: You’re still conducting harsh training as always. It’s fine if you train the troops, but there’s no point in causing injuries before they can become more useful. . 

Souji: Is that so? I’m already very gentle~. If this sort of attack killed someone, they'd immediately get cut down in real combat when fighting ronin~

Saito: Although that's true...

Souji: Anyway, would Hajime-kun like to have a match with me? That just now wasn't training for me. I'd be very happy if you were my opponent.

Saito: No, my apologies, but I have something I need to think about.

Souji: What's wrong? You aren’t speaking clearly.

Saito: I have abrupt question for you, Souji.

Souji: It's rare for Hajime-kun to consult me. What is it?

Saito: If you were suddenly given a lot of money, how would you use it?

Souji: Me? In that case... I'd buy some candy and share/eat with the kids living nearby.

Saito: Ah.... I see....

Souji: Isn't it rude to sigh/seem so disappointed after hearing someone else's answer? Speaking of which, did you receive a lot of money again?

Saito: Well....

Souji: That's why you should use it and not worry about it. It’s a luxury to worry about how to spend money.

Saito:.....

Souji: Just spend it however you want. Dignity and standards don't matter, regardless if that's in the eyes of Hijikata-san or anyone else.

Saito: If I was able to do what you suggested, I wouldn't have asked you.

Souji: Seriously? Hajime-kun, you really have no desires...

Saito: It’s true that I have no desires for material things. 

Souji: I think it’s just that you’re not materialistic. Well, my opinions won’t matter anyway. Besides snacks, all I can think about are the caltrops I bought and scattered in Hijikata-san’s room. 

Saito:....I’ll head back to my room to think about it again. Excuse me then, Souji.

(Saito walks away)

Souji: Huh... it’s a problem too be so rigid. 

-------

Saito: Then, what should I be doing? There’s nothing I need to buy right away, and I don’t want to spend money on food and drink either...

(sound of running then a door slides open)

Shinpachi: Yo, Saito! Excuse me!

Saito: Shinpachi? Sano and Heisuke, what’s wrong?

Harada: Hehe, I heard about it, Saito. You received a large bonus, right?

Saito: That is the case. Why do you know that?

Shinpachi: Well, in any case, that doesn’t matter right? You're so serious, so even if you got a huge sum of money, you probably wouldn't know how to spent it, right? We just came over to give you some ideas!

Heisuke: Hajime-kun, how is that going? Have you made a decision on how to spend it?

Saito: No, not yet.

Harada: Let me ask you first, is there something that you want?

Saito: There's nothing I want in particular.

Shinpachi: If it's like that, then just go to Shimabara!

Saito: Shimabara?

Shinpachi: That’s right! Enjoy the company of geishas is the way to go, right?!

Saito: I'm sorry, I'm not interested.

Harada: Well, Saito is the same as always. What about getting a new katana?

Saito: Unfortunately, the blade was sharpened recently, and it is a Kunishige...

Heisuke: Ah~ I get it, I get it! Speaking of which, does Hajime-kun have any interests?

Saito: An interest? Why are you suddenly asking me this?

Heisuke: Generally speaking, people spend money on the things they like. I've never seen Hajime-kun spend money on his own interests.

Harada: That’s true. Do you have one?

Saito: An interest...? I appreciate katana and other things... 

Sano: No need to continue, I get it. 

Heisuke: That’s right... even when he has time off, Hajime-kun is still working...

Harada: This is a rare opportunity. Why don't you try something that you haven't done before?

Saito: Haven’t tried before?   

Harada: For example... reciting haiku like HIjikata-san. 

Shinpachi: That's true... you'd be very suitable to reciting haiku. So if you were doing that with HIjikata-san, it'd go like...

~~[this is being imagined]~~

Hijikata: It's become warmer, 

more recently it feels that, 

spring's finally sprung. [yeah that matches the 5-7-5 stanza haiku syllable count... why the hell did I try to match that?]

 How about it, Saito? Try composing a haiku about spring. 

Saito: Yes.

The warbler is perched [more literally it’s on a branch... but w/e]

It chirps again and again

It cries are ceaseless

Hijikata: Oh~ that wasn’t bad! Although it's very straightforward, it's very easy to understand.

Saito: I’m honoured to receive your praise. I will continue to improve from now on.

Hijikata:Ooh, the journey to learning haiku is long and hard, do your best.

~~~[end of imagination sequence]~~~

Shinpachi: No, it shouldn’t be like that... 

Harada: No, not like that. 

Heisuke: Anyway, it doesn’t cost money to compose haiku. At most, he could buy a few collections. 

Harada: That’s right, the purpose is to spend money.

Shinpachi: So, what about buying some delicious food? We could find out which store has the best dango and eat them all one by one. 

Harada: Why don’t you replace the dango with something more expensive? Like with sake to go drink.

Saito: Go drink?  

~~~imagination sequence~~~

Saito: Store owner, is there anymore sake left?

Owner: I'm terribly sorry, that was all the sake in the establishment

Saito: No, wait, the sake on the shelf over there hasn't been served yet.

Owner: Th-That's not for sale. It's a specialty sake from my hometown.

Serve it. I won't stop drinking until I have all the sake in the store. If you don't serve it...

(unsheathes blade)

Owner: Th-That sort of thing...Please wait!  Okyakusama!  Okyakusama..!

~~~[end of imagined sequence]~~~ 

Shinpachi: Is going out for sake supposed to be like that? 

Harada: No, it isn’t. 

Heisuke: Furthermore, that's what Sano-san wants to do right?

Harada: Then what ideas would you propose, Heisuke?

Heisuke: Eh: In... in that case... a show house [ 見世物小屋 is the word here in Japanese... Wikipedia says the term “freak show” is used overseas. had to get the audio as text because I wasn’t sure of the word I had used originally].?

Shinpachi: A show house? It's true that tickets are expensive so that might not be bad...

~~~[imagination sequence]~~~

(crowd going ooh)

Saito: Come one, come all Regardless of how ridiculous the order is, I will obey it without fail. I am the legendary dog with a human face [or human dog... I guess].

(crowd clamor)

Saito: Vice-Commander, please immediately give me an order. 

HIjikata: Saito! Apprehend Souji, who scattered caltrops around my room!

Saito: Understood! No, wan! Dog with a human face, going forth!

(crowd clamor)

~~~[end of imagined sequence]~~~ 

Heisuke: Why is Hajime-kun working for the show house? That would be for making money, not spending it!

Harada: And isn’t the dog with a human face just like the usual Saito? He’s someone who called a human with dog like traits.

Shinpachi: But with so many options, there should be something you're interested in. How about it, Saito?

Saito: No, I’m sorry, but I can’t accept any of these proposals you’ve given.  

Harada: Well, that’s how it is. 

Shinpachi: Sure enough, it’ll just be going to Shimabara. Occasionally, you do go drinking together with us! 

Harada: Can't you say anything else? He said it already that he wasn't interested.

Saito: But, it might not be bad to spend this money on someone else. I'll need to think this over again.

Heisuke: For someone else...?

Saito: Heisuke, what is it?

Heisuke: Eh? Ah, it’s nothing! 

Harada: Then, we’ll take our leave now. 

Shinpachi: Tell us when you figure out how to use it! If you decided on going to Shimabara, I'll approve of that!

(door slides open, Shinpachi and Harada leave)

Heisuke: Then, I’ll be going too. 

Saito: Wait, Heisuke. What was it that you were going to say? Your expression is strange. 

Heisuke: No, I was just a bit envious of Hajime-kun.

Saito: Envious?

Heisuke: If I had a lot of money, I would give Chizuru a beautiful kimono.

Saito: A beautiful kimono... like the clothes she wore when she infiltrated Shimabara?

Heisuke: That’s right, Chizuru was so cute then... No, uh, she was very happy!

Saito: Yukimura at that time... The day I infiltrated Shimabara, Yukimura, who had been disguised by Osen, seemed shy to show herself. I probably won't ever forget how she looked then. Her appearance wasn't changed at all, she simply wore a beautiful kimono, combed her hair, put on some hair pins and make-up, that's all it was. I couldn't even look directly at her. That's how beautiful Yukimura had become then...  

Heisuke: Hajime-kun! Hajime-kun! Hey Hajime-kun!

Saito: Uh.... Ah! What is it, Heisuke? 

Heisuke: What are you doing? Why are you suddenly dazed? 

Saito: No, it’s nothing. Sorry, what did you say?

Heisuke: I was just talking about giving Chizuru a beautiful kimono to wear! But that's impossible. How would hear wearing a woman's kimono be allowed at headquarters?

Saito: Nn, that’s right. 

Heisuke: Kodo-san is still missing, so I really want to do something that will help cheer her up.

Saito: Is Yukimura very depressed?  

Heisuke: It's not like that, but she might be forcing herself to smile. 

Saito:  That’s right...

Heisuke: I really want to do something for her. 

Saito: Ah...... But would she want to wear a woman’s kimono again? Or is it that I want to see her dressed up like that again? No, even though she’s usually wearing men’s clothing, it’s to be expected for her to want to dress up a woman. No, but... 

Heisuke: Hajime-kun. Hajime-kun. Hey~ Hajime-kun! Hah... he’s like this again... would it be better to just leave him be for a while?

---to be continued---

....in february. unless it’s fine to post track 5 and 6. since those are done while track 2 is incomplete.

[littlevillageidiot64]

OUR DARING YEARS 1. Servicemen: you are a volunteer serving Humanity faithfully and with honor. 2. Every Servicemen is your comrade in Service, irrespective of their nationality, race, sexual orientation or creed. You will demonstrate this by an unwavering and straightforward solidarity which must always bind together members of the same family. 3. Respectful of the UNSF's traditions, honoring your superiors, self-discipline and comradeship are your strength, resilience and loyalty your virtues. 4. Proud of your status as a Servicemen, you will display this pride, by your turnout, always impeccable, your behavior, ever worthy, though modest, your living quarters, always tidy. 5. For the combatants and comrade in arms, you will act without relish of your tasks, or hatred; you will respect the vanquished enemy and will never abandon neither your wounded nor your dead, nor will you under any circumstances surrender your arms. 6. Belongings are shared by all. Supply yourself according to your needs. 7. You will be judged by a single criteria: do you contribute? If not, we'll make one. - UNSF, CODE OF HONOR CHAPTER 1:

Anna took the realization in something.... unusual. It is quite common to head for the bridge of the ship and even though she was an officer she felt she'd been lead in the wrong direction. It wasn't that she was given less info than usual since it was for security purposes, but it was the first time she wasn't handed any information at all, and she could see she was seriously out of place amongst the fold even within rank. She knew this was more than merely a get together for army officers; navy and air corps top brass for the siege whom waited, too, glittering with seniority along with the suits, the intelligence staff, the CN and political advisors. This was a mere gathering of the top circle, but in terms of sheer authority, this was a clear summit by all accounts. It'd only been two months and still progress with The Division wasn't anymore faster than before. Wether High Command would admit it to not, this might put the UNSF (United Nations Space Force) to the test. One could know eighty ways to kill people under their care and still wouldn't get anywhere.

Her expressions were risen within seconds, "Marcus!" Bowman jumped back a bit as he jerked his head towards the marine captain but became nearly cradled by her broad arms giving a hug that felt more like pinching a lump as the navy officer yelled as if his chest cavity had cracked. Anna mainly smiled, "Oh I have missed you so much!" she said almost sounding like she's squeezing his lungs out. Jacob stood close to her saying, "Captain, stop unintentionally murdering the staff." Her eyes showed off their marble brown colors once more with Anna carefully placing Bowman down, "My mistake." she said. Bowman just chuckled yet coughed a tad, "N..no no, that was my fault, honestly, I should've kept my guard up." "Frankly, I didn't even hear her come.” Admiral Tsoko stated. Standing at seven three for a Galactic Marine compared to Anna’s own height of seven two, Jacob still somehow managed to hardly stand out among the crowd of the room, and in their time together, Anna couldn’t recall a single occasion on which Jacob’s uniform was too tight or too loose. Despite equally such a presence as her, most stared at Anna more so given she was all muscle in a military issued uniform that acted and sounded friendly yet held the aura of a woman who wasn’t afraid to a swing a punch or take one. She looked harder than most of everyone in the room; a room of mere cardboards encasing around mountain of muscle. Anna noticed Marshal Commander Grame in one of the blue leather chairs, chatting to Naomi as if the two knew the other for a good ten years since OCS. Courtney would have found all of this too cozy to her liking. Anna could have brought her along but both she and Jacob hardly thought alike. When push came to shove, Courtney was prepared to kill a world to save at least some of it.

Jacob, Anna suspected, might not have been the same. Its not Anna didn't trust Courtney. In fact, she envied her; affected by grief, yet self contained, and who is satisfied by making broken things work. However if she had her way she'd retire her for her sake and health. Lick each other's wounds if she want. It was like she had a friend who was a firefighter but got divorce tomorrow and then started running head first into burning buildings. Are they saving lives? Yes. Should you probably give them a therapist or go hang out? Definitely.

She eyed at Naomi another moment longer. Her skin was dark brown in tone with a slim jawline, high cheekbones and a somewhat round but tapered, pointed chin. Puckered scars ran across her right cheek and through her lip as well as a thin nose shaped into a prominent bridge with a downward slope. Her hair was cropped and blonde with ocean blue, wide set, sullen eyes. She had a slim figure that was equally as robust; high, round, youthful breasts; narrow shoulders; small waist; wide hips and thighs. The clothing she wore was typical BCA attire: light blue tunic, light blue trousers with a white undershirt and a black tie. Two gold oak leaves on the collars of the undershirt. Gold cuff links. White gloves. Black, dress shoes, and epaulettes with their emblem on a dark blue arm band at the bicep region of the left sleeve, which was a pure white five pointed star with white wings stabling it that have rectangular like feathers. She was ten years her senior yet age hardly effected her form and stability. Even in the many photos and pictures she found of her she looked exactly as she had seventy five years before.

Surprisingly this was probably a first among a few times she saw her interacting with anyone she knew or respected. Anytime any of the more lower runts spoke to her she kept the talks short and at others a knowing stare and a nod with several, “Uh-huh” at rare moments of self contained silence, as if she was conserving energy for more relevant issues. Even in friendly conversation despite always being temporary she was polite firstly yet gave the impression that part of her was holding back, secretive, withdrawn, watching, judging, willfully impossible to read or know yet still respected by Servicemen because she didn’t waste their time but also hated by others given she could trap them easily through such words. She would call her having little doubts but that’s a strong word to say given their agents were good at sowing seeds of doubt. It was their job. They probably didn’t even know they were doing it, not even the likable sort. They were from an organization that is a unique phenomenon of this century. Having no true counterpart, either in history or the contemporary existence of Human Space, it cannot be fully comprehended through analogy with other organizations, or other adequately defined by human terminology.

It helped that they were really careful in controlling their public persona. Stories about the BCA as the UNSF's cutting edge science agency appear regularly in the press, while the bulk of their more consequential and sometimes more authoritarian programs go largely unreported. In fact, alot that's more reported is towards health and wellness even though their stated mission is to be an intelligence agency. The aversion to risk was perhaps the single greatest discrepancy between the BCA and other branches. They were about taking chances. Its officers and operatives were trained to act as the Chairman’s hidden hand. Intelligence is a secret action from them that aims at understanding or changing what goes on abroad across Human Space. A nation that wants to project its power beyond its borders needs to see over the horizon, to know what is coming, to prevent attacks against its people. It must anticipate surprise. Without a strong, smart, sharp intelligence service, politicians and generals alike can become blind and crippled.

In its near century long history, the BCA has never allowed the UNSF to be taken scientific surprised. They make the future happen. Industry, public health, society, culture all transform because technology that the BCA pioneers. A revolution is not a revolution unless it comes with an element of surprise. They are like spiders, exquisitely sensitive to any vibration in their webs, ready to pounce on problems and efficiently dispose of them. They are constantly analyzing all changing inputs and factors, making countless quick small judgments and decisions, then passing them on to the crew and the ground team. It’s like being coach, quarterback, water boy and cheerleader, all in one. Everyone affected by the actions of the UNSF is affected by the BCA. Given their reputation, how they show themselves personally, they somehow manage to have zero insecurities when they should have alot. In fact, so self assured that there's nothing that would deter them from feeling good about themselves.

She noticed the two separating. She walked to Naomi holding a statesmanlike half smile. Most thought it was probably more for the benefit of her local audience than really for Jacob. Anna was suddenly surprised at the lack of reek of coffee smell. Probably people trying not to invite questions when they all returned back to the Center. Servicemen never forgot what the real thing smelled like. The fresh pot of coffee in the office, genuine coffee, not some ingenious but completely unconvincing cereal concoction.

The few she knew tried resisting it. Servicemen were often uncomfortable enjoying what the average Colonist no longer could whether through poverty, shortage, or both. Some Candidates who first joined often held the sense of entitlement, that subconscious expectation that their exceptional jobs demanded exceptional rights, but was slowly evaporated year upon year. With privilege goes responsibility. To be a Servicemen is to belong to a justice minded community of perennial social outcasts. Even though there’s bad Servicemen there’s no really bad Servicemen.

Naomi moved her eyes to Anna’s direction before turning her whole head mainly blinking at her. “Greetings to you. I’m sorry about my actions before.” Anna said. Naomi remand expressionless. “It’s nothing.” She said, humorously with a smile. She held out her hand. Anna reached out and grasped it firmly, unhesitating now. As they shook hands Naomi’s had all but disappeared into Anna’s, however was quite surprised of the aged agent’s firm and strong grip. Anna got a chuckle out of this. She kept her smile for sometime, as if it proved a problem for her, which grew affectish on Naomi as well with the help that Anna’s voice was mellow like a hum. Elegance, deep pitched and strength. Comfortable to hear and sounds clear and uncluttered. Her vocal cords sounding completely relaxed. Warm, and buttery to the ear with her words sounding slow yet never treating her like a child almost as if she mastered her impulses. Her strong grip and stance had also told Naomi many things. There was no pose, no pretense, no attempt to establish anything for the record.... She's natural, alive, alert, spirited, and give the impression of having intense amount of unloosened energy, both intellectual and physical. She held the impression that here was a woman who was realistic, practical and disciplined. She has the power of drawing the hearts of people towards her as a magnet attracts the bit of metal. She merely has to smile at you and you trust her at once.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance finally. Your reputation precedes you.” Anna continued. “Not all of it is good, Captain.” Naomi replied with sudden melancholy and sorrow in her eyes. “If rules and customs are unbroken, then they are meaningless, either brittle from misuse, or so strong and overwhelming that you remain clueless to the truth of what it is they were intended to protect…” “On that we can agree fully.” “I apologize if I’m saying you’re soulless in your approach.” Naomi chuckled, yet composed. “Oh I have my moral quandaries of my own. It’s just they don’t matter in the grand scheme of affairs. You just concentrate on killing soldiers and the uneducated for the rest of us.”

“Hey, you, blondie!! Yeah I’m talking to you!!” Anna turned to her right still holding her smile but the enthusiasm within her was palpable. She lightly ran over as she and Grame widen one another’s arms. He himself had also hold a strong smile. “What of it, huh? You don’t call me, nor wrote to me for a good two months and expect me to be quiet the whole war?” “Jon, you magnificent son if a bitch!!” She squeezed tightly and he managed greatly against her tough muscles and iron dense bones. Anna felt she was hugging an alien or clone for all she knew. He hugged identically to her except he was… different. He spoke a little differently. He smelled subtlety different. Wasn’t so use to seeing him out of armor either. “Been too long, Man.” Grame then suddenly pulled from her but kept his hands at her shoulders, looking bewildered like she had a dick latched on her forehead. “Anna, its been twenty years now. Wasn’t that long ago.” She rolled her eyes. “Just trying to make you feel better, Hun.” “Only thing I miss is you being alot smaller than you are now. Then again, everyone’s small compared to you, so it evens out.”

He noticed Naomi keeping a short but fixed stare. “Don’t get your gown all tucked in.” He humored. “There’s no regs that states an officer can’t be friends with their subordinates. I’ve never been easy on Barkwood, but she did the job. That’s worth enough for the two of us.” She gave a carefully blank stare. “Message received, Marshal Commander.” she said, mellowly. “Now I just feel good having a wall at my back.” “I noticed you haven’t thought to speak with the Task Commander and her subjects in this summit.” Anna said. “They can wait a while,” Naomi said. “This summit is a show, and this is clear pomp, and this is, essentially, a waste of time. But Monroe is the Chairman. His authority needs to be reinforced.”

Anna kept examining Grame. His uniform was what had been worn by the greater majority of the room: a collared light blue shirt, a dark tie, slightly loosened at the neck, and a deep blue coat. He had dark brown skin with a strong but tapered jawline. His lips were full but thin with a typical short black hair and had a thin bridge nose with a flat base.

Not much has changed about him physically but she took a chuckle that he’s kept that sharp, slender, stout mustache for years, looking as if it might have been finely penciled in. Might as well been his symbol much like his utility cap because once he shaves it off people are gonna freak out at such a sudden change. She was still weirded out at him not wearing armor. It was like he was from another world she never knew of. Not wearing his armor and service rifle made him appear off balance, yet still noticed the gravity of warfare latching to him even if he lost his combat suit. Maybe, she thought, he was showing what he was packing given there’s a chance they might tell others for certain arrangements. He already looked naked. Without armor, Servicemen felt exposed somehow, like they had left their quarters without their skin. They had grown use to how they weigh and felt. It was like missing an arm that they knew existed at some point in their lives or a common comfort item. It was very jarring to see. Almost no one outside the organization saw how they looked underneath since nobody wanted to risk inhaling tougher amounts of oxygens on other planets or expose themselves to the elements and catching some alien disease or die to a new form of cancer from the mountains of heavy sun activity due to a lack of melanin. Apart from the heavily publicized display of massed UNSF battalions boarding carriers at the military staging area a few months ago, the vast majority of both the human public and alien themselves held no contact with them whatsoever. And never without their helmets mainly due to both security and personal reasons. Armor itself does not make a Servicemen. The armor is simply a manifestation of an impenetrable, unassailable heart.

Grame’s eyes wandered and noticed Jacob from afar. “I take it this is she?” “Yes. She’s been quite the extra hand the day we met.” “Hmm…” He walked on over with Jacob standing at attentions like always. "What’s your name, Marine?” “Jacob Jablonsky, Marhsal Commander.” “I take it you know who I am?” “Marshal Commander Jonathan Roland Grame. Former CO, 92nd Platoon.” Jacob always had a prodigious memory, Anna thought. “Fourth Battalion, 11th Core Regiment, of the First Infantry Division.” “I’m not planning to buy you dinner, Marine.” “I make a point to remember all officers my captain regards as exceptional.” Grame made no reply. That was the point at which he did not like her. It never took him long to make up his mind. She was too formal to be a Servicemen. She treats knowledge so official like she just read it off of a briefing file. There was something robotic about her word usage he could not stand. But speaking a certain way didn’t matter in the scheme of things. “Well, take good care of that armor, Jacob. It’ll come out of your pay if you don’t.”

Tychus walked into the same room, though Anna had almost mistaken him for a businessmen by any other measure given. He noticed her from afar. If Anna had passed him in the streets of a colonial planet, she would have thought he was just a clerk, a regular, intelligent man who had little importance in the moment. But there was that look: absolute steel, absolute honesty, and a refusal to give in to his fears. He was scared. Anna could see it.

There also came a Hiyon (Hai-yen). She was average in height and broad shoulder, holding heavy arms for her wide frame. Her Hiyon fur was orange with dark black stripes and her eyes held an orange glow to that of a morning star that laid beneath her sharp, narrow, sullen expression with darker shades of it in the form of pupils. They were oval in shape yet laid sideways, appearing very egg like and sat at the front of her head. Her skull was square like with no human like hair but only white fur at the jaw, chin, and cheek regions. Her armor was of peculiar plating that shelter her whole figure with no clear insignia to be seen or understood as a matter of fact. Her name was strangely written in human text so most called her Masuku for convenience sake. It was also quite firm for a body suit, as if wrapped tightly around her. Human fashion seemed airy and loose when compared. They had given humanity more specifically the UNSF a considerably long tome on their species but general enough to where it is digestible and non-classfied. They had explained they were eyeing on Human space for a good long while with their philologists taking years to understand the human language. Difference was the words they used in the documents were clean, consist in both the grammar usage and punctuation almost second nature to them and uncanny when reading it back to command, despite missing key human elements when choosing their words.

Anna didn't have much to say on their culture through those pages beyond stating what others said before her. They hold a strong martial culture yet have no military state. They're very collective but individuality and self reflection were as sacred if not more so than what humanity had. Their proverb said it all: ‘it can always be better’. Your great, great grandfamily needed to be better than their parents; their great grandfamily needed to be better than their great, great grandfamily, and their children's children needed to be better than all of their forebearers before them and education lied at the center of it for it is considered as a practical measure of success and a way to escape poverty. They make great sacrifices to offer their children quality education. It is not just for themselves but for their culture as well that the Hiyon value education. They study because they want their decisions to be consistent with answers to questions of meaning, of life mission, of facing mortality and of ultimate truths: Who are we? Their study will help put their decisions into this deeper context. They value thinking as a whole. Theirs is a tradition of people who think, question and explore. Masuku didn’t much eye anyone in particular. In fact, she did not looked at anyone but kept to herself with silent confidence in her movements. Nobody wanted to be near her and yet she was indifferent to such a social gathering.

The hatch doors quickly shut tightly as the Task Commander, Kelty Housden, ordered it through simple gestures. Her hair was dark brown that was crop cut in design and had small, hazel colored eyes. She had thin but full lips and a flat base nose. Her jaw was round nearly circular with plump cheeks and had dark skin. She spoke as everyone got into their respectful seats, “We’re soundproofed in here, ladies and gentlemen, and soon you’ll understand why we need to be. This is now a strictly need to know basis so unless you have plans I’d suggest being quiet for the foreseeable hour. Michaelson, hit the lights.” The display panel flooded with light as a pixelated sphere formed through simple white dot formation with a sophisticated satellite weapon appearing alongside. “Tychus…” Housden said, extending out her hand. The room fell completely silent, no fidgeting, no coughing, as she let the computerize images sink in. Anna felt… dejected to say the least at what was to be unfolded.

Even as they had their proper sit down amidst a polished island of tables that gleamed beyond in a windowless room, Grame manage to have found himself thinking almost enviously of the Systems War as it came to be called. Felt like yesterday since it paused. A very different time when rules seemed easy to remember: human versus human, motives known, limitations understood, yet somewhere within the Sovereign Colonies there was always a system or sector that could be crossed to find planetary society seem normal.

He’d hope the colonial front at least managed just enough to partake in this odd endeavor. It would have mocked every sacrifice of the past nine hundred sixteen years. He was at least relieved that Anna had been involved this day. She had a voice in this, too, dammnit; she understood the cultural differences between the Servicemen and these new batch of civilians. Whether they’d responded to her or not, he trusted her, to the point where if he needed something to get fixed and gave it to her, he knew it would get done. She got the job done everytime. Those like sergeant Courtney Halls, however, almost every time.

Anna knows what she’s doing, he thought. She’ll be a steadying influence. Stick Halls with another unit, and she’ll probably be busy picking fights with them. Lucky for her she didn’t need to love or be loyal to humanity to function in this organization. He chuckled to himself. Five break ups, outright human civil war, and a total of seventy years of Service and this was what sparked concern from him.

Tychus spoke in grave detail in the many specific areas of which such a device needed. Many sat in wonder knowing what could be said of this event. Housden kept herself still if to listen to his comments, thinking over his words carefully. She could be engrossed in something but that slight tilt of the head said she was taking in everything within earshot.

This fight to her presented many ways to make people suffer, to force them to do unspeakable things. Though guilt rangled her thoughts, she focused on her duty first. At this point, it'd become a magnetic north on her moral compass. She didn't wish the role of Task Commander but she had the bones to pull it off. Fewer than two percent of all Naval Servicemen were selected for this role. That said enough. They were counting on her specifically, and in times like these, it is and always is a time honored tradition to develop a plan for all Servicemen for it is their duty to view in the context of their character and the impact they had on others. Order, structure, and control is a feature not a bug. Was this the correct call? No, but, in reality, the choice never mattered if it was good or bad but making a decision and sticking with the consequences did. Servicemen take the initiative and make decisions, regardless of wether things are going well.

Tychus spoke in her direction, “Task Commander, pending your questions, this concludes my brief.” Housden took a breath. She knew the risk here: they make a wrong step and the tenuous threads of civilization unravel. "In your considered opinion?" She asked, looking towards Anna. Anna paused herself to think carefully before replying. She didn't wish to tar her Task Commander's institution with verdicts of incompetence, yet knew her well enough in knowing how little good sugaring the pill would be.

"You had mention before the orbit radius and that it would hold consecutive strikes and be reduced. How would this factored in? Never mind the significant reach to make such a device penetrate the surface with immense power, how would you refuel with efficient effort?" Tychus extended the screen with much needed data across the pixelated screen by a simple button press. "From our current estimates, we would require at least one hundred seventy thousand cubic meter tank. Mind you, this is only taken into account a fuel reservoir filled with crude oil and remained efficient at our best estimates into converting a basic plasma beam.” “Then how would you handle this process. At that rate, you would only have about ten seconds worth of power.” “I do not know the physics, but I do grasp the fact that the satellite platforms would cover the entire planet, which what is required of such an effort." Housden chimed between. "What are you going to target? Is that what you need me for, to advise on blast coverage?" Grame cut in. "This is all well and good, Tychus, but even so we'll be feeding their political affairs. With something like this, it won't be just the enemy that will die, not all, but this will be seen as asset denial than a strictly won victory."

"What will the civilian population have left among the rumble?" The political advisory asked. "All you'll have left is a panic population with no borders left to defend." “Mining will still be possible after the worst of the radiation subsides. Its agricultural possibilities would be poor at any rate, however what they’ll offer in return will survive the worst we can do on the surface.” Thychus replied. “You see no other value to this world?” Anna asked. “Our mission here is one of elimination. Therefore, the most efficient way of ending the enemy while minimizing our expenditure of lives is through such weaponry.” He replied again. He soon continued on.

"So far, the only major centers we'll have then is the west and south regions of the planet. That's where we'll regroup. The entire network would be deployed in stages; we'll need a priority list. We feed in the coordinates for the first batch of targets, activate the lasers, then feed in the next batch, move the orbital platforms, and so on." "We'd need nine billion joules per second at the rate you want this, Tychus." Tsoko spoke. "What would be refueling this device? You’d need to charge it for about twenty seconds that it is used let alone be refilled once per month. We'll need twice the crew, twice the supplies needed for the extra wandering pinatas you're asking for to protect it from ground forces below. My Servicemen would not stand for this.” “You have fortified the planet and planetside for such efforts, Admiral. You have enough ships and battery systems to fend off open hostile approach. They will be restrained enough to cover the entire surface of this world without signifcant weakness of early warning systems. Even if we speak small scale attacks do not assume you can keep them out all at once. A planet is a vast terrain. Assume the worst, and make sure you notice their footprints when they do attack.”

“How long would we give the civilian populist?” The political advisory asked. “Three days top.” Thychus replied. “Three days?” They asked. “The longer the delay, the higher the chance of the enemy working out what’s going on.” “And the units?” Grame asked. “At that rate we can’t expect them to make it with the refugees. Giving the civilian populist more than three days is one thing, withdrawing units are just going to clue in the enemy even more effectively.” Thychus replied.

Grame shoved his hands under his fold arms. Anna knew that fixed position of his. Housden did, too, because she watched his lips compressed into an even tighter line. Grame was going to toss the yellow flag. “Task Commander," he said finally, keeping his voice steady, "after you go with this, you'll need every Servicemen you have, and you'll need them on your side. Think about how you'll command even a Servicemen's loyalty once they know you'll waste them in their millions of thousands like that." He paused for a breath for a moment. “Dying in combat is expected, but this is way beyond the pale. This is within our control." Thychus turned to his direction. “I understand that an officer must keep their subordinates safe under altruistic care, but you make them sound really damning to suggest they aren’t loyal, Marshal Commander.” “They are reasonable to a point, Thychus, but they are a stubborn and stiff necked people, and they will only tolerate so much.” “But they are aware enough that this isn’t the first time intelligence was gathered to pull these feats. They knew the risks going in. They’ve given everything they have.” “That’s why we shouldn’t waste away our own numbers at the same time. Even if every country was burnt like brisket on holiday even, we need an army to crush what’s left when the smoke clears.” “With respect we've lost over 78,000 Servicemen in one region alone. With this device, it will make an even footing." Thychus said. "And we've killed 800,000 people on one planet, 200,000 being civilians back home.” Anna replied back.

Housden knew her answer on this, but spoke to Anna directly. “Captain Barkwood. You were on the surface. What are your views?” By all accounts, Anna stood out among everyone in terms of rank and she knows more than what's let on aboard the Dreaded Prosecutor, and she's just been required to present the staff with awkward analysis.

Anna gave her comments. “Respectfully, I disagree with such a dire conclusion. The value is more than just industrial. There is an important culture there. Its memory should be preserved.” “That culture failed.” Thychus replied. “Maybe it did.” Anna said. “Does that mean it should be expunged from our collective memory? Do we have nothing to learn from it? Does that mean its stand against The Division does not deserve to be commemorated? That there were no battles worthy of song?” “It does not.” “No it doesn’t. There is no logical value in the decorations we give to our vessels. They contribute nothing. What they contribute in between is inestimable. The records of the pacifications. The celebrations of victories. The memorialization of the fallen. The analyses of the recovered cultures. This is the living tissue to all civilizations. Even the dead civilizations are part of the human story. They have a life beyond the dust of their citizens.” Anna ended her talk. Housden paused but knew her answer clearly. “The Division may hold this planet. We will take it back, but we will not lose its heritage in the process.” Anna smiled towards him “I know you understand.” She said. “So I do.” He replied.

After the last words were said, everyone stood up abruptly, shook hands, and laughed about something in an earlier story, as if nothing just transpired, and never focused on the pain and sorrow. Even when they recounted any of sort, there was generally a sense of ease and softness in their words for those who fought hard and died gloriously. There was no complaint given. No blame of others for their misfortune. They worked hard and expected the same from their junior officers. Patriotism was worn on their sleeves, and while they weren’t naive about the UNSF’s faults, they knew that no other part of human space valued their service and sacrifice as much as the UNSF. Housden walked towards and shook Anna’s hand. “Its nice to meet you in person, Captain Barkwood.” “You too, Task Commander, but I’m sure you have more pressing matters than this summit and will be making your leave.” Housden smiled, “This better not be the only reason. I came all the way back here.” She paused for a brief moment and eyed each other carefully, “Off the record, Barkwood, there's not one major decision you've made that I would've done differently. Haven't seen you done anything dumb. I've never known you ever get drunk but you're fine as far as I'm concerned. Not surprising. Don't get a swell head about that. Just fine.” Anna smiled at her comment. “Commander,” she said, “I am merely the servant of the big think who seeks, as we do, to better the lives of us all.” Housden simply smiled at her. “Anyway, I’m sure you have other matters to attend to.” “Like not boiling a planet?” Housden chuckled as she walked on formally. “Yeah, something like that.”

Thychus and Anna soon bumped into one another. He gave her a smile, no teeth shown, just a curl of lips. “I know of you.” He said. “I have absolute faith in you, Captain Barkwood. We would never have survived this far without your leadership.” “You don’t seem too pleased for someone who almost given us an opportunity to end the battle.” “It would end the conflict here. I can’t speak for…. The future after this.” “You expecting the worst?” “No, just academics.” “I mean you know things are bad when everyone is looking at me. Ugh.” They both chuckled. “In all serious, you okay. How do you feel?” "Numbness.” He answered. “What else should I feel? I just almost ordered to wipe out possibly a millennia of culture." He looked depressed. Worried even that Servicemen back home would be furious. There was no replacement to culture. The mere fact he almost erased someone's unique cultural heritage and treasures appalled him greatly even now. One day, he knew, he would look back at this event and feel appalled that he almost destroyed something precious and irreplaceable. Human lives came first, yes, but like all Servicemen before him would mourn for the loss of knowledge all the same. He looked at her directly as he smirked again.

“Sorry just… this has been a difficult mission… for all of us.” His voice was strained to be casual, but clearly wasn’t. He blinked, nothing more. For a second their eyes locked and Anna couldn’t read his expression anymore. He looked old and tired and beaten. He looked like he wanted out of it. He didn’t buckle at once nor broke the illusion expressed on his face, but was emotionally exhausted. That concern Anna. Maybe he really cracked up. Traumatic stress was waiting for all of us sooner or later. This was a strange sight of sights. Not typical Servicemen behavior. Generally, they would give an embarrassing nod, because moments such as this had that exact tone for a majority of Servicemen existence: embarrassment. There was no anger or disgust, just embarrassment. These were exceptional times. A concern to be had. Grame had gone mentally alert at this and commanded two Servicemen by eyesight in carefully escorting the now emotionally wounded man, and with this Anna knew a sergeant was to be assign shifts to keep a close eye and partly to ensure witnesses each to stay up and watch him as he slept. This wasn’t exactly a Red Cross society but a Servicemen wasn’t going to leave this crisis to be festered alone.

[hoshinasblade]

hoshina found you in the rooftop of the training building.

the lights from the skyscrapers miles away from the base looked like beacons from this distance, hoshina thought to himself. you were however looking at the moon, crescent-shaped in the sky, dark clouds swallowing some of its luminescence.

hoshina knew he would find you here. he would have dropped by sooner, but the close-door meeting of high-ranking officials in the force took longer than he expected. even now, his top uniform unzipped and both his hands in his pockets, hoshina can still feel the tension and fatigue from the discussion earlier.

"i'm thinking of quitting." your face is indecipherable, but your voice betrayed the emotion swirling inside you. "i'm no good here."

the commanders of the anti-kaiju divisions met a few hours ago - an emergency session to discuss possible strategies on how they're going to handle kaiju threats going forward. it has not been a week since the attack in the tachikawa base where several officers in your platoon had died protecting each other. the image of people you'd trained with, worked with, even shared a meal with, dying under your command is forever etched on your memories, unable to be erased.

the truth is you cannot even stomach looking at yourself in front of the mirror without feeling like a complete, utter failure.

hoshina stood beside you, the cold breeze blowing the stray strands of his hair away his face. he wanted to offer his jacket to you but settled on putting his arm around you instead. "it wasn't your fault", he said, because it really wasn't. he faced the strongest entity in the horde of monsters that attacked the third division base that night and survived by the skin of his teeth. his only consolation is he didn't lost you in the whole ordeal.

you sniffled. "i'm not like you, soshiro. i'm not... strong." hoshina wanted to assert that what you said is a lie but decided against it. "tell me what i need to do," you pleaded, "cause i don't know anymore."

hoshina wished he could take away your pain even if it means he'll have to be the one to bear its burden.

"as your vice-captain, i am going to ask you to stay," hoshina said before turning to look straight at you. "we've lost a lot of people already, we cannot afford to lose any more." i cannot afford to lose you, he wanted to say.

your scoff surprised him. "and as my boyfriend?" you presented your follow-up question.

"as your boyfriend, i need you here," hoshina answered too quickly. he reminded himself to slow down; the last thing both of you need is an argument. he let the silence enveloped you for a few seconds, just enough to calm his own erratic heartbeat. hoshina, watching you from the corner of his eye, started to speak again. "you remember when you said you wanted to be a defense officer? we weren't even dating back then," hoshina pointed out. "i wanted to be one since i was little, but you, god, i have never met anyone else who wanted to protect people so bad like you do. honestly that's part of why i love you," he told you.

hoshina understands all too well how you feel - the horror of knowing you could have saved people who laid their trust on you but didn't. there are a thousand reasons why he wakes up each day as the vice-captain of an anti-kaiju division, and one of it is because he has to make it up for the people he's lost along the way - he's decided to continue on his mission of eradicating kaijus because if he stops he's scared everything and everyone he's lost will be in vain.

"look, if you really want an out, we know i can't stop you anyway", hoshina said matter-of-factly. "but if you stay, i'll be here for you." his hand lightly touched yours. "i'll protect you. i'll take care of you so you can take care of other people too. i'll protect you."

you did not reply. you did not have to.