if anyone wasn't sure, the incompetence brigade refers to a group in chapter 64.5 of the bsd manga, where oguri, katai, kajii and lovecraft were selected to save the world on the basis that they are pretty much the least main-character type of people around. it's not exactly part of canon but it's a pretty fun and short read! this idea-dump-thing is for bestie anon, who brought up the idea of yandere incompetence brigade a while ago.
cw: kidnapping, hacking
out of the four, oguri is pretty easy to like. despite his overall demeanor, his ability is super useful to clean up and darling takes advantage of that very often! every time they come running to him, he gets so excited only to hear they want him to help clean up the spilt drinks in the hallway and vacuum the carpet. he can't believe how his ability, the same one that perplexes so many people, and leaves so many cases unsolved, the one that is a living nightmare for detectives (except that one) is being used as a cleaning service—and for free?! no matter how many times he explains that the perfect crime should be used to destroy evidence, darling always says "but this is evidence too! evidence of my existence!" and well...they're not wrong. he's super soft for darling and would do anything they ask for. yes, even if it's using his ability to vacuum the carpet—all the while, though, he'll be groaning and whining.
with that being said, it's just as easy for him to be cruel—using his ability to erase darling's presence, almost as if they never existed in the first place, destroying their passport and papers and cleaning up their apartment. when darling does something to upset the group, oguri gets the angriest, feeling very betrayed at how they were trying to leave when just yesterday they were cooing at how cute his ability was (in an alternate universe where oguri's ghost things are not invisible). he absolutely hates going out and will never cave into such a demand, no matter how much darling asks. the most they get out of him is some activities to do at home.
about katai...well apart from the fact he rarely ever leaves his futon (darling isn't even sure if he washes it. the one time they tried to investigate—followed by the ever silent and surprisingly stealthy lovecraft—they only saw him wrapped in a shockingly similar futon while he was busy hanging up his own one. needless to say, it was a learning experience.) he's really fun to hang around! katai always helps darling cheat when they're playing video games and the few times they go out, he has no qualms in manipulating traffic lights to cut through the crowd. if they're at home (like they are most of the time), katai keeps them entertained with his unlimited control over technology. want to stream a movie for free? katai's the one to ask! want to hack into kajii's computer to find out his secret lemon bomb build guide? look no further than katai! needless to say, everyone starts becoming wary of using electronics after realizing what it is that you two get up to.
of course, it's just as easy for him to hack into darling's devices and mess around, deleting messages and contacts and destroying connections with others. it's surprising when their phone is so easily handed over to darling when they ask for it, but it's actually katai's tampering—not that they'd ever know—that made it 'safe' enough for the others to let darling keep it. darling can't try using any of the other devices, either—katai will surely know, and it won't end well. and of course, just as he can change traffic lights so he can reach destinations faster, he can use it to stall darling's escaping and turn cameras to find them as they run past.
kajii loves blowing things up, so he can be a little irritating to be around, but not always. most of the time he wants to blow up darling's enemies and anyone who makes them mad, but since that would gain too much attention, he settles for letting them throw it at targets in isolated areas to help release their anger. he's the one who always wants to go out and is very obnoxiously clingy anywhere and everywhere. despite this, he doesn't hold back in public, threatening anyone that looks at darling too long.
lovecraft at first...was a little more complicated, but he's easy to warm up to. he's almost always asleep or underwater—or both. once he learns that no, darling can not sleep underwater, he finds a new solution! lying down in the kiddie pool ! lovecraft can sleep there with darling seated nearby, and as long as nobody comes looking, it's a pretty cute scene. whenever he is awake, however, he's a surprisingly great companion despite the unfavorable circumstance. other than his unexpectedly great cuddles, he's the one that's always up to anything darling wants—even when he dreads going out, he'll do it for darling. he's also the one, though he has arguably the most dangerous 'ability', who never gets mad. lovecraft is almost always quiet and calm, and happily accepts to hide away darling when oguri is pissed. it sucks when he sometimes goes off to sleep for long, unspecific periods of time, but he always comes back <3
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Between Heaven and Earth: Chapter One
a/n: Merry Christmas! The next couple chapters will tie in with Nur für die Schwachen (as in, certain plot points/elements from that fic are referenced). You don’t have to read one story to understand the other.
Despite a greater disparity in technology, trading electric torches for gas lamps and subjection to bean-potato stew for the majority of their meals succeeding the government's seemingly overconfident investment in pit latrines last year, the overall mood was not so different than Marley. Trost's streets were narrow, so the new influx of pedestrians coming from Wall Maria often had to compromise among the horses and soldiers moving through. No motorised vehicles to be seen, even in Wall Sina.
Grice, posing as a refugee from Wall Maria, had quietly worked his way into Wall Rose’s Northern Division as a recruit—because he’d signed up before the new decree to lower the age of conscription, he managed to join up with the Garrison the same year they became trainees. Right now, he was stationed over in southern Wall Sina. He’d send letters every visitation day, updating the three of them on life as a Paradisian soldier.
Last summer, Annie’s reconnaissance mission into the interior turned up fruitless. All she would tell Reiner and Bertholdt was that a man from the MP Brigade saw her face. Rather than apprehend her, he’d let her get away, which had dissuaded her from going undercover again. Though the MP Brigade were the only ones allowed in the interior, they did work with the MPs in Wall Sina. None of the training academies in Wall Rose would allow enlistment directly into Mitras—you had to undergo additional training from selective military schools. If you didn’t have family in the military, or the interior, there was a specialized academy in Wall Maria. Neither position was viable, so what was the point of bringing it up at all?
Grice insisted it was better to seek a position in the MPs regardless. Before Paradis was breached, the offices were flooded with applications to the Garrison, since it was easier to get into than the Military Police and had the second-lowest mortality rate. It sounded nice, coming from the mouths of recruiters, but any position was better than the Scouting Legion. An overabundance of spending on resources with little to show for it but a seventy-five percent mortality rate. Without better funding, or a significant change in leadership, no one in his right mind would enlist voluntarily.
Unfortunately, many of the MP divisions were already plagued with decades of corruption and incompetence. Losing a third of their country’s territory didn’t whip them into shape. The Garrison was spreading itself thin, trying to do its job and the job of the MPs. It had gotten so extreme that the 104th Training Corps were routinely put to work, with Garrison supervision, at the top of Wall Rose. Better to acclimatize them with defense now, than assume that a catastrophe could never happen again.
The Scouting Legion would, on occasion, assist the Garrison, whenever they were not performing routine expeditions. But their expenses and mortality rate had gone down significantly since Wall Maria's breach. Commander Irvin was interested in reforming the Legion’s reputation. Public opinion became less hostile than it had been under their previous leader, Commander Shadis. In fact, there was a lot of speculation among the military higher-ups that Shadis favoured Irvin as a recruit, and he’d stepped down for the sake of the Legion’s reputation as well as his own tenure.
…
Tragedy bound the cadets together into fickle hierarchies. Privates Kirschtein and Jaeger butting heads just for the excuse to fight about something. Private Fritz smuggling in beer in exchange for swapping chore duties with anyone gullible enough to take her up on a simple favour, with the exception of Private Lenz. Most of them had no real opinion on their King, the government within the interior or their iron grip of censorship besides a passive, unquestioning resignation to dedicate their hearts to humanity. They weren’t interested in questioning the nature of the mission to retake Wall Maria.
But in their second year, Private Arlert got into a prolonged debate with the instructor about the ethical implications of the operation. Rattling off statistics in a rapid-fire, accusatory pitch while the instructor became increasingly dismissive. It came to a head, when Arlert accused the Garrison of corroborating a lot of falsified search warrants for the sake of cutting down the amount of civilians to rehouse, and was assigned latrine duty for two weeks and told to sit down before his impudence further affected his training score. Red-faced and fuming, Arlert took his seat.
According to Bertholdt, he’d lost both his parents during the operation to retake Wall Maria. His grandfather, over the course of his own life, had fostered a collection of pre-Paradisian literature and encyclopedias, and was charged by the Garrison with spreading misinformation. Their house in Wall Rose was raided. Arlert had no choice but to work in the fields, enlisting alongside his childhood friend Eren Jaeger.
Jaeger took Arlert’s side. They sat together in the boy's barracks during free-time, going over their notes on ODM maintenance from the textbook. Other, keener kids, the likes of Bodt and Kirschtein, were willing to play devil’s advocate before lights-out, but never to Arlert’s face. Most of them would agree, amongst themselves, that Arlert had been wronged, but what was the point of sticking up for someone whose argument was so one-sided? He’d be lucky to wind up as a technical instructor if he didn't crack his head open during free-climbing, or the most rudimentary ODM gear exercises.
Braun and Hoover followed them back on the same pretense of study, and now Hoover played the diplomat. “You’ll be able to change a lot more about the military’s policies from the inside. Everyone starts as a foot soldier.”
Arlert just stared at his notes and said, in a tight voice, “Every history book is dictated by another man’s biases. There’s no choice, for most, but to roll over and let the victors decide what truth prevails.” His voice shook slightly. A white-knuckled grip on his pencil couldn’t salvage his composure. “I’m not the only one who feels this way.”
"It's not that simple," Bodt chimed in. "The instructor is upholding whatever he's told to by the government. It doesn't matter what he thinks."
Arlert snapped, "What has blindly adhering to theocracy done for humanity? For any civilization, for that matter?"
"The Wallists don't bother anyone," Kirschtein said. "They just give people something to focus on besides arguing with each other. The rest of us get on, like usual."
Arlert glowered at his notebook.
Reiner looked at Bertholdt, a silent exchange that went unnoticed by the other boys. That kind of talk would get you sent to Heaven. Reiner never got to play mentor to anyone back home. He was too busy looking after himself, and scrapping with Galliard while Bertholdt kept him from straying. During their mandatory hikes, Reiner would always lag behind to make sure Arlert didn’t faint, burdened with a pack that weighed about as much as himself. These Paradisians were eager to learn from him and Hoover as much as possible. They’d sit with them during meals and before lights-out, and talk about their insignificant lives the same way Galliard and Finger used to. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to start reaching back, for the sake of keeping the enemy close.
“The only way you or I can make a difference, for humanity,” Reiner said, “is to become an exemplary soldier. No single one of us can change an unfair decree, but that’s always been the nature of the world. What you and I can do, is work to become someone your friends would be willing to put their lives on the line for.”
Arlert shrugged. “The instructor couldn’t disprove what I said, so he made an example of me. Once I graduate I’ll probably never see his face again.” He averted his eyes to his notes. “I can’t argue with you. I just—shouldn’t get so worked up about it. That won't undo what's been done.”
“You shouldn't be hard on yourself, Armin,” Jaeger said. “You stuck to what you believed. That’s more important.”
Arlert’s mouth lifted into a wan smile.
…
Most of the 104th wouldn't make it past graduation. The ones smart enough to secure a position in the Military Police or Garrison would go underutilized, but Paradis wouldn’t really be any worse or better for it. Titans and Eldians would coexist, and the world's only mercy was its indifference.
In Marley each soldier was out for himself. Overt sympathies were discouraged. In Paradis, Bertholdt and Reiner became model soldiers who climbed all the way to third and second best of the class in three years, succeeded only by Private Ackermann. Training scores were determined by ODM exercises—so she could rely on her “kill” count and technique to get ahead. She wasn’t very talkative, but gracious, interested in learning from others regardless of their skill level.
She’d make a great captain someday, Hoover said. She’d go further if she wasn’t held back by her loyalties to Jaeger and Arlert. It was Jaeger that took to Reiner with an avid need for a mentor figure who wouldn’t treat him with kid gloves. For how often he talked of indifferent humans and cattle, he’d never once considered that the Walls and Titans beyond were meant for keeping things in. Typical, straightforward thinking with no regard for the long-term or bigger picture; the perfect candidate for the Scouting Legion, or a half-decent farmer, if only he put his mind to it. Domesticity was never in the cards, nor the peacetime that the 104th Training Corps might not live to see, only strive towards.
Private Leonhardt was skilled on paper, but when they had to lead an expedition without the instructors, Private Springer elected to follow Kirschtein instead. Private Blaus was happy to work with her during chores, but when it came to ODM gear exercises, they had a tendency to get in each other’s way. Private Kirschtein insinuated she thought herself too good for everyone else—so Leonhardt reminded him that the only difference between them was his desperation to prove himself the better candidate. If he wanted any pointers, he was free to ask Ackermann about it, because he’d clearly confused the two of them.
While her loner mentality made her unpopular, it was easier for Braun and Hoover to get to know the others, and for Leonhardt to stick to the mission.
Now, Private Jaeger had more of a death wish than any other cadet in the division. Everyone had heard about the scrappy, angry from Shiganshina. Ackermann and Arlert were always close behind, probably to make sure he didn’t wind up scraped off of a tree. He was too stubborn to live a long and happy life inside the Walls. An unexceptional student, save for his uncrushable tenacity and loyalty to the Scouting Legion.
In another life, he’d have made a decent Warrior. Leonhardt didn’t speak more than a sentence to him until their second year.
The majority of their budget went towards ODM equipment, food and space for the cadets as well as horses. When it came to self-defense, the instructors went over the fundamentals out of principle. These techniques might buy you a few seconds. Your average criminal could just as well drive the sharp end of a whisky bottle into the newly-made private’s stomach, and that would be that.
Most cadets did not go out of their way to train with her. Hoover was too leery of drawing blood and finding an excuse to hide the steam. Braun was always needling, had to be superior, and would rather spend his time with other cadets looking for a mentor. Arlert, her recent partner, kept freezing up in the middle of a feint. He'd flinch a little, when she snapped at him not to stand there and await her instructions—he’d been in fights before, but only ever internalized the desperation to stop the beating. It felt wrong to hit someone who wouldn’t fight back, even though Marleyans weren’t supposed to be merciful to the enemy. Her father wouldn’t hesitate to rap her on the shins for going soft. There was no discrimination on the battlefield, but she tripped him and let him fall flat on his ass and said, “You’re not going to accomplish anything if you won’t defend yourself.”
Arlert got to his feet. He took a shaky breath and said, “These exercises don’t really count for points. And it’s more likely we’ll be using guns or blades for self-defense against a Titan.” His eyes followed her boots, probably calculating her stance. “That doesn’t make it a useless skill, of course. But you and I are on different levels of proficiency.” Even as he said it, he tensed up again.
Leonhardt dropped her guard. “Find someone else to practice with.”
Arlert didn't think twice. She figured she may as well cut out and review her notes on ODM gear, for the hell of it. Anything was better than baking in the sun.
As she moved for the barracks, she noted Braun was partnered up with Jaeger. Better for Braun's ego and Jaeger's temperment.
“Hey, Leonhardt!” Braun called out. She stopped pace. “You can’t keep slacking off like this. Shadis'll”
Braun the soldier was a paradigm, quick to tease Leonhardt for her lack of discipline. He wouldn't let up, even when she flipped him on his ass to drive the point home. Titan or not, she could never harm him in a way that mattered. There wasn't any point expending time on him as a Warrior cadet. Why start now?
Because sucking up to the first cadet who asks for help is not going to make you into a better Warrior than I am. This exercise isn’t for points. You shouldn’t be drawing attention to me in the first place, you hypocrite.
She caught Jaeger’s eye.
Are you watching? Here’s a lesson on what not to do.
Braun, back on his feet, threw Jaeger the wooden knife and said, "Looks like you have a new teacher!" He caught her eye and winked. Just her luck.
Scowling, she made eye-contact with Jaeger and threw him the knife. “Your turn.”
Jaeger caught the knife. In the time it took for him to open his mouth and say, “What?” she’d already closed the distance. Disarmed and grounded. Easier than a dummy. His mouth split into a toothy grin. "That was amazing!" Clambering to his feet, dusting himself off, he said, "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
"My father." She did not add it was a pretty basic technique. “Does it matter? It’s not what you’re supposed to be learning.”
He stared at her, eyes shining with fervor. “Let me try again. Disarm me.”
The only time she got to scrap without holding back was with Braun or Porco Galliard. In Marley the instructors were pushing a bayonet into her hands. In Paradis, a wooden knife, or a faux-rifle. Turned onto the front-lines, the Warrior cadets fought to kill, not disarm. She shouldn’t be going easy on the enemy.
The third time Jaeger wound up on his ass, she offered a hand. “You almost had it.”
“Really?” Jaeger reached out to take it; she withdrew and caught him in the stomach with her boot. He got back to his feet, staggering, a tic in his jaw. “What the hell—was that for?”
“You left yourself open.” Resuming stance, unfazed. “I bet you’ve never won a fight in your life.”
A few cadets stopped to watch. Each time she flipped Jaeger over there were cheers. Nothing like back home, always perfunctory and cold. It ended once Shadis barked at them to disperse and get back to what they were supposed to be doing. Leonhardt ended up doing laps.
Jaeger spat into the dirt and said, “I can’t keep up with you.”
“You’re right.” She walked in the direction of the mess hall. Jaeger followed at her heels.
“You could teach me,” he said, “how to fight.”
“Why should I?”
“’Cos I want to learn.” He made a face like she was being obtuse on purpose. “I’ve been in a lot of fights, and I’ve never seen anyone move like that.”
“Hm,” said Annie. “You’re not going to cry when you lose?”
“I won’t if you won’t,” he said, the light coming back into his eyes. He bumped her shoulder with his. “Next time, we’re partners. Don’t forget!”
…
Sparring became more of an excuse to give Jaeger a taste of the dirt, her boot, in no particular order. Most cadets would be too nervous or call out her refusal to parrot the techniques the instructor demonstrated—she didn’t need fundamentals to disarm an opponent—but not Jaeger. The light in his eyes was the same as the first time she agreed to teach him.
He still couldn’t disarm her, but he was blocking hits that would have knocked him down before. He couldn’t replicate her kicks, so he fought with his fists. He’d lost everything in that breach, and all that was left was his rage, tempering into discipline.
Jaeger ended up sitting with her during meals whenever Hoover and Braun were too busy blending in with the native Paradisians. She was never that close with them anyway. And unlike them, he would never expect her active participation unless he spoke to her first. Maybe growing up with Ackermann, he was used to sharing comfortable silences. He wasn’t even bad company. Just exuberant to the point of bordering on insufferable, especially during stretches on horseback or hiking.
While the Legion's reputation still left much to be desired, Jaeger clung to his idealism anyway. Leonhardt wasn't going to argue with a brick wall, but she could tune him out and he’d take the hint, unlike Kirschtein—who wasn’t a hypocrite, just arrogant and didn’t know how to pick his battles. Well, he’d learn the harm way, come deployment, that all the ideas in the world meant little once you’d lost most of your men to a mindless Titan.
“Mina says you want to be an MP,” he said. “What for?”
“Why do you want to join the Scouting Legion?”
Jaeger paused. “’Cos we let those goddam animals exist on the other side of the Walls. Just like any wild animal, they found a way to get in. The Garrison and MPs have been too busy sitting on their asses, while the Scouts do all the thankless work they get to take credit for.” His scowl deepened. “All the top recruits go to Wall Sina. The death rate in the Legion scares them off, but it’s a lie. That rate was from the last Commander. The recruitment officers are just using it to bring more people into the Garrison. Now there’s an overflow of soldiers that’d be better off elsewhere.”
Leonhardt smiled. “Imagine what humanity would do to itself, if those highly-skilled soldiers weren’t around to keep everyone in line.”
Jaeger shook his head. “The MPs haven’t made a difference in crime. It was like that in Shiganshina, too.” He frowned. “You never answered my question.”
“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind about people who choose to be MPs.”
Jaeger blinked. “I didn’t—mean it like that.” He turned away. “It’s not just about playing soldier.”
“You’re such an obedient patriot.” Jaeger barked out a laugh. “Why do you partner up with me?” she asked, to change the subject. “If you keep following me around, people might get the wrong idea.”
Jaeger scoffed. “What idea? I just have to keep going over the moves until they stick. That’s all this is.” Despite his reckless nature, he didn’t have a lot of bruises. No scars, at least, which was a surprise. She was proficient enough not to draw blood unless it was necessary. Jaeger’s ears flushed. She’d been staring at him longer than she meant to. He looked away first. “The other guys don't get why I like training with you.” He stabbed at the congealed mass of bean-and-potato mush that should’ve resembled stew, but more closely resembled a lump of brain matter soaked in gravy. “You take this seriously when you try. And I don’t think you’re a bad soldier, even if you hate all the bullshit.”
Leonhardt’s mouth thinned. She wasn’t hungry anymore. “Thanks.”
He was looking at her knuckles. “Your hands look pretty good.”
What the hell?
He took her hand in his, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“I mean, you don’t have a scratch on you. I usually cut my palm on the wire when I reach for my blades.”
His hands were faultless. She pulled away, a little tense. “That’s because you’re impatient.”
“Yeah, well—I’m getting better, now that Reiner’s giving me some tips. Mikasa doesn’t worry as much.”
Suppressing one’s regenerative abilities took discipline far beyond his capabilities. The only other way was to regrow the limb itself, which took a lot of excess energy. Newer Warriors tended to have a lot of trouble shifting while they were injured. He’d never so much as staunched a wound in her presence.
“Where’d your father serve?” she asked, as if Eren cracked-my-skull-on-the-first-day-of-learning-the-ODM-harness Jaeger could be anything but human.
Jaeger rolled his shoulders. “He didn’t. He was a doctor.” He continued to eat in stolid silence, then paused. “Haven’t heard from him since the breach. He hardly sent letters while we lived in Shiganshina, so he’s probably busy.” His jaw tensed. “Your dad must’ve cared a lot, to teach you what he has.”
Annie regarded her own stale loaf of bread. “In his own way.”
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