𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝟏𝟎𝟏 || 𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐂𝐚𝐳𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⚢︎1⚢︎

(Upcoming flashback, skip if unintrested)

Y/N (M/N) L/N, quietest person ever known. They weren't just quiet, they were stealthy, they'd never been caught, only spotted.

Well, caught in the act, that is.

February 19th 2010, L/N Residence.

You sighed, placing the grocery bag down on your kitchen island and slipping onto a stool.
You ran your hands through your hair, revelling in your own stress.
Your cat jumped onto the table, hastily jumping into the bag.

You chuckled, until suddenly your face was illuminated by red and blue lights. "Shit!" You exclaimed, startling the feline as you rushed to figure out how to get away.

Too bad you weren't good under pressure.

Now here you are, Belle Reves, locked away in an underground cell, alone.

They'd placed you deep underground so you couldn't easily get out without being seen walking up the stairs. They also smartly chained you to a spot on the floor.
You could still get up and walk around, to a certain extent.

You were like a dog. Leashed by the neck.
So, that's how they treated you.

"You want a treat, fluffy?" One if the male guards called from the top of the stairs as he walked down.
"You want a death wish, dickhead?"
You snapped, pulling against the chain in a weak attempt to lunge at him.
"They should muzzle you. Now, do you want a treat or not?" He repeated, holding a gross plate of stale cookies.
"Is that dog food?" You asked wearily.
"I don't know, maybe. I found it in a bowl on Barbara's desk." He explained. You groaned in annoyance.
"Man, Barbara was fired 4 months ago!" You yelled. "Whatever, you have guests."

You raised your eyebrow, your family hated you, you don't have friends, and your cat is in a shelter. Who possibly wanted you?

Amanda Waller.

"Y/N. Im Amanda Waller, im here to offer you a proposition." You scooted closer, only to be pulled back by the chain. "Do tell."
"We have a group, called Task Force X, criminals who work for us in order to get 10 years off their prison sentence."
You leaned as close as possible, gesturing for her to continue.
"You will go on a mission, to Corto Maltese, to destroy Jötunheim."
You awaited futher explanation, but nothing came.

"Why?" You asked, only receiving an awaiting stare.
"Fine. It'll be a bit of fun I guess, get me out of these chains, right?" She nodded stifly to the gaurd who reluctantly took you off the chain.

You stretched your arms above your head and rolled your head.
"Lets meet your team."

-

You stared blankly at the team.
"We are fucking dead."

Some kind of fucked up rat-dog,
Medieval Owen Wilson,
That one rock superhero named 'Thing', if he was a girl,
Barbie on testosterone,
Velcro boy,
Blackguard, he looked normal,
Boomer-hobo, you think you robbed a bank he was in once,
Hot n' crazy,

And lastly,
Flag, you hated that guy.

"We're not dead, I'm sure we're gonna destroy those Maltese losers!" Harley assured, slinging her arm over your shoulder. "RÆÙAĒÌ" Rat-dog  chimed.
"What is that thing?" You asked as you boarded the plane.
"I think its a dog." Blackguard answered.
"A-A dog?" Digger joined the conversation.
"Yeah."
"What kinda dog you think it is mate?"
"I-I dont know, im not familiar with all the breeds!"
"Im gonna go with Afghan Hound." Oh great, now T.D.K's involved.
"Since when does an Afghan Hound have bloody thumbs?"
And now Harley is involved, chiming in with an excited "Oh my God, is it a werewolf? I've wanted to meet a werewolf since forever!"

And now, your innocent question erupted into chaos, Blackguard freaking out over Harleys statement.
"Yo they sat me next to a werewolf?!"
T.D.K seemed to believe Harley aswell, "Thats not right."
"Yo let me out I don't fuck with werewolves!" Blackguard exclaimed.
"He's not a werewolf he's a weasel! He's harmless. I mean- he's not harmless.. he's killed 27 children, but you know we got him to... I think he's agreed to do this."
"Oh my God can you all just shut the fuck up." You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration.

"Whatever, everybody get into position to drop."
You flew over the vast water, anticipation in the air.
In pairs, you began to drop.
Until, weasel started drowning.

You held in a laugh as Savant swam to get him, but he was already dead.

"The weasel is dead, I repeat, the weasel is dead!" Savant informed, positioning himself behind the shore.
"Savant, hold your position." Flag ordered as you began to follow suit.
"Roger that,
Amateurs."

Suddenly, Blackgaurd got up onto the beach.
"Blackgaurd!" Digger called in a hushed voice.
"Hey guys! You can come out now, it's just me. I'm the one who contacted you!"
Oh, he betrayed you. That's a shame, he was kind of cute.
"Is this supposed to happen, what the fuck?" Javelin was rightfully confused as you were.
"Blackgaurd get back into your position." Flag demanded, obviously fed up.

"Look, look! I brought everybody, look. They're- they're right behind me." You made eye contact as he gestured towards you. When he turned back, several guards and weapons were illuminated.
"Woah woah we made a deal, right? Uh- I-Im the one who called you-"

You gagged as his face was suddenly blown to bits.
All hell broke loose, guns firing, boomerangs flying, yelling, screaming,
You stayed behind a rock, breathing heavily as the stress began to creep up to you.
Harley and Flag cane to join you in your little stress-party rock, cussing about how shit the team was.
"Dont worry Flag, I got the bird!" Mongal yelled, running for the copter.
You sighed in defeat, knowing what came next.

What you didn't expect was for her to take Digger down with her.
"BOOMER!"
"DIGGER!"
you and Harley yelled for him at the same time. What a shame, you really liked that witty hobo and his accent.

Mongal burned.
Digger was crushed.
Javelin was impaled.
T.D.K was shot.
And Savant suddenly started whining and running away.

"Sav', no!" You yelled, attempting to run after him, but Flag pulled you back. A high ring sounded across the shore, and Savant was dead.

Savant blew up.

The gore was nearly too much, you gulped down the lunch that threatened to spill out your mouth.
You stayed hidden as Harley was taken, and Flag ran away.

Soon, it was quiet. You stood up weakly, tears spilling from your eyes.

Flag probably died.
Harley was captured.

You were alone. The experience was traumatic, you had killed, you had experienced death, but never in such detail. Never with people you had relations with.

You wandered into the forest, collapsing on a patch of clear dirt, and passing out.