#drabble mostly

Nero stood in front of the three sisters, six bundles on his back of varying shapes and sizes, a wry grin on his face.

“First off, the youngest gets theirs first. For you, Yuki, a set of new yukatas and kimonos from Yukumo, as well as a stuffed arzuros.” He stated, offering the presents to her.

“Then for you, Kat, because I know you’re a weapon nut, a claymore and a zweihander. Cost a fair few materials and cash, but the hilt and pommel of the claymore are of Silver Rathalos scales, while the Zweihander’s are of Gold Rathian scales.” As he gave the two hefty weapons to the middle hound, his grin only growing.

“And the eldest goes last-” he said, chuckling “-A dress, first off. It took me a long while to hem this for you, but it’s of only the finest Gore and Garuga scales I could find. Don’t worry, they’ve been treated and no longer carry the Frenzy-I figured you could appreciate the black and purple together. The other gift?” A slight pause and a toothy grin, holding out a small bracelet, a jewel in the center “This took me an age to make, but I daresay it’s worth it. The metal itself is a mix of Novacrystals and Machalite ore, hence the slight glow upon it. The gem is a little pilfer from a Legiana.”

At the other end of the room, a certain red headed nephillim was hard at work against the shaking punching bag that dangled from the ceiling. How long had been in there was only a guess based on the amount of sweat that soaked his shirt and dropped from his chin. Hair was pinned back and away from his face under the elastic of a headband, keeping his vision clear and focused.

One-two, one-two-three, one-two--

Wrapped fists hit with everything he had. He fell into a rhythm, his mind seeming to elevate past the training he pushed himself through. It was all memory, a refresher.

Then, in an instant he shifts. Two steps and a quick turn hands drop and fingers snatch a pair of throwing blades strapped to his thigh and flung them one after another. Seconds later the hard thump-thump signaled the blades hitting home. Then he did the same thing again but with his other hand. Two blades, one after another, thrown at the dummy. This time, however it wasn’t so satisfactory a conclusion. One scraped the side, just barely, but still drove past and hit the wall behind it. The second missed completely and skittered to a halt on the floor, clattering with one of the other blades that had missed.

It was to be expected that his aim would be worse on one hand than the other, but having ambidextrous aim would be beneficial in a fight. Abel frowned at the results and clicked his tongue. Having spent the throwing daggers he’d strapped to himself at present he ignored the punching bag this time and instead turned his back to both it and the striking dummies. He walked towards one of the pull up bars bolted in for basic workouts, next to which was a small table with a water bottle and a towel.

Within seconds he took the water bottle in his hand and popped the cap open, taking a long drink from the plastic container.

A third of the bottle down, Abel closes it back up, dusts off his hands, and goes straight for the bar. Right back to work.

 An Attack on Titan Hange fanfic short

 *Disclaimer: This fanfiction is for entertainment, non-profit purposes only. I do not claim ownership of any canon characters or the world that this is set in.

  Dust. So much dust...and heat. To top it off, there was steam. It was like being caught in a giant tea kettle. Hange groaned, tried to look around, and discovered that one eye wouldn't open at all.

 "Hey," croaked the squad leader. "Hey!"

 There was no answer. She heard the echoing sound of a drip, felt the steaming plunk on her head. She felt around, in agony in more places than should be mortally feasible.

 "Moblit," Hange rasped. There was light. Her vision was severely compromised. Glasses were nowhere to be found, left eye wouldn't open, right eye was gooey with film...but she could see something.

 And the first thing she saw, just as she touched it, was her assistant's burned and blackened uniform jacket.

 Hange's one good eye opened wide, and she lurched forward, trying to see in the flickering darkness. A well. They were in a well of some kind. She couldn't make out the blackened features of the still form dressed in that ruined jacket she'd touched.

 "Moblit?"

 The charred head slumped, clumps of singed hair still clinging to the skull. Hange could still recognize the profile, though. She knew who it was. She grabbed hold of his smoldering uniform and shook him, shouting in his face for a response.

 "What happened? Moblit, wake up! M-Moblit? Where is everyone?"

 The body fell lifelessly, toppling on top of two others within the dark, hot well.

 Hange gasped a panicked breath. She could hear roaring, along with flare rounds being shot off. It all seemed so distant. Her vision was further compromised as tears welled, and she wiped a grubby, burnt sleeve against her nose.

 "I'm sorry," she choked. She couldn't even identify the others. Now she recalled Moblit screaming her name and shoving her into the well when the Colossal titan flared up like a thousand bonfires.

 Some might still be alive, though, and she had responsibilities. With pained motions, Hange checked her equipment. She couldn't find her glasses. She wrapped her eye with a bandage she salvaged from a medical kit off of one of the fallen. She gently retrieved Moblit's gas canisters and his remaining two pairing blades, and she pulled herself out of that well.

SETTING: At home and then the post office. writing a letter.

TRIGGERS: None