#I respect those guys more than any soldier in any military

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend (1.6k words part 4)

Summary: Valeria breaks into the headquarters of the Mexican Army in search of her wife.

TW: implied sexual violence, violence more generally (and Google Translated Mexican Spanish)

Note: I'm back from my home country y'all and free to write gay fanfiction once again. I'm working on the next part ASAP but I wanted to post this because you guys have been waiting forever. Thank you for all the lovely comments and the interactions!! means a lot to me that you guys enjoy reading this :>

Link to A03 Link to part 1, part 2, part 3. Next part: part 5

'Army soldier' was more than a type of occupation, more than any other job title; it was a lifestyle. It is truly a different way of life, a way of life that most people are simply not built for. A soldier's form - their straight back, their way of taking in the world around them within a second, their way of assessing everything as either hostile or neutral, their battlefield instinct - it all became an inseparable part of who they are. There is a certain instinct that gets drilled into soldiers, the instinct to act immediately and fast. The instinct to not think twice about running into danger. It is triggered immediately and triggered intensely. So when the emergency siren at the Mexican Army Headquarters wailed, the whole place came alive. No time was wasted before troops placed themselves in position. Snipers grabbed their rifles and headed for the rooftops, Captains and sergeants tuned into their mics, barking orders to their subordinates, assembling their troops as quickly as possible. Guards ran to their posts and pilots rushed to where their aircraft were getting readied by flying personnel, prepared to take off to gain an advantage in the airfield and a much-needed vantage point of what was happening. The armoury opened as many hands reached within for ammo and other equipment.

From the outside, it was a perfect scene of military efficiency and readiness. But from the inside, anxiety bubbled, threatening to cut loose.

"Why did this have to happen today of all days?" A soldier grumbled as he tightened his weapon belt.

"Someone planned this. It's the most popular day for annual leave," another responded as he grabbed his shoes.

"Dia de los Muertos," the first one said, his voice low and grim.

The Day of the Dead. Celebrated annually around November 1st but spanning over the course of multiple days. A day of celebration for life and death, a day to pay respects to those who have passed on. A time of parades on squares and community gatherings, with crowds of people in traditional costumes and painted faces taking to the streets to rejoice with others. A time when many troops were stationed outside the headquarters for public safety. A time, therefore, of relatively little staff being left behind to man the fort.

It was so perfect, Valeria almost giggled as she withdrew her knife from someone's body and let them drop to the floor.

She had infiltrated the headquarters from the underground tunnels that connected to some fields further out, which were created to be used in emergencies but had been long forgotten over the years. These were the same tunnels she took many years back when she wanted to see you on a day that she hadn't booked off. She would wait until most of the barracks were asleep before slipping away in the shadows, passing the guards and quietly unscrewing the lid that separated the tunnels from the world above ground. It was even more exciting once she taught you when and where to wait for her, at the end of the tunnel, among greenery and orange trees. Among the fields that you would lay on for the rest of the night underneath your blanket, touching each other's bodies and talking to the stars. Whispering how badly you'd missed each other, hearing the hum of insects in between short gasps and warm moans. Now, she had unscrewed these same lids and stabbed the person in front of her, dragging them out and passing the body along to the staff that followed her. They dumped the body back in the fields. Part of her found it annoying that these tunnels were always standing between her and her wife. And yet there was some charm, too. Travelling the bowels of the Earth for her love.

Having officially stepped on ground owned by the Mexican Army, El Sin Nombre and her people spread like a virus, taking down certain key spots and hiding bodies. Not enough damage to create immediate alarm, but good enough progress to feel confident about the next step. Her heart sped up in excitement as she thought of her wife, who was only one building and a lock away from her. And right in front of that building, was him.

Valeria looked out from one of the windows and saw Alejandro standing with his back straight, his face possessing a deep scowl as he conversed with Rudolpho. It had been many years since she last saw him, which was nothing memorable. There was no goodbye, no farewell. She had simply gotten up in the middle of the night and gazed at his face one final time; he glistened beneath the moonlight. He was younger then, his face smoother, his voice gentler; not yet hardened. A mass of muscle on a standard issue Army bed, he was unaware that the woman he loved was slipping right through his fingers. Unaware that by the time he woke up, she'd be gone.

There'd be nothing left behind to prove that she even existed. All of her things just went missing alone with her. She didn't even leave a picture behind to immortalise their love, to have something to look at during those nights when his heart almost gave out, when he realised that he was starting to forget what she looked like. That he could no longer remember her voice. Now, as she looked at him, she wondered why they even started a relationship in the first place. He was attractive, sure, but nothing special. Not like the woman in the box.

He was older now, his face more wrinkled. Valeria was raised with the idea that in women, this quality had the same visual effect as decaying fruit. When Valeria looked in the mirror and saw her signs of age - the smile lines that wouldn't smooth out when her smile fell, the lines around her mouth that could not be covered by cosmetics, the wrinkles around her eyes - it reminded her of something that was starting to fade. But in men, the quality was different, more merciful. More like maturing. It enraged her to see him getting older. To see him in the exact same place that she left him. The memories attached to this place were too much to handle. Memories of her younger years kept materialising at the edge of her vision, like a trick of the light; a shadow figure that kept pursuing. It used to be her, out there in the yard. Talking with Alejandro and Rudy, passing along jokes during a long day. But right now it was just the two of them, talking with ease like she had never been there at all. And right at that moment, as she gazed down at them, the alarm went off. What a glorious opportunity to have a front-row seat to witness Alejandro's reaction once she pulled the rug from underneath his feet. There was no more time to waste. She forced herself to stop gloating at these shadows of the past and to move forward. With each step, she got closer to her wife, her sweetheart. Valeria felt weightless, she felt herself glide through the space between herself and Y/N. She would pause here and there to ensure she did not reveal herself to her enemies. At times, she stealthily murdered someone who could have easily been her roommate back when she was a cadet. But that was another lifetime, a lifetime of making the wrong friendships and choosing the wrong lovers. She wasted no time on these obstacles. At last, her hand encircled the handle of the container. She pushed her weight into it and entered, ready for anything. Be it to murder a guard, or to embrace her love; her instincts were on the front seat. She could kill a hundred men if it came to it.

“Valeria. Bienvenida.”

The metal door crashed into the threshold behind her, the echoes reverberating, she felt, for eternity. There was nothing beyond these metal walls anymore, the whole world went silent. The wrath that burned in her eyes met the hatred that dripped out of his. Darkness met darkness; loathing encircled within their dark glares like an ouroboros, its dark scales flashing where the light hit it. Valeria and Alejandro were a perfect mirror, they were tuned into the same frequency, a frequency of violence. They were built of the same clay; two destroyers meeting at last.

He was right in front of her, waiting. Standing tall and armed to the teeth, Colonel Alejandro Vargas. Her jealous ex-lover, the kidnapper of her wife, the annihilator of peace, the snake that infiltrated the garden. The evil eye incarnate. And here was she, the abandoner, the backstabber; the woman lover.

“Y/N.” Valeria spoke with steel in her voice.

“Is no longer with us, I’m afraid.” The lines of his mouth fell into a pout, feigning sadness. Mocking her. “She’s not a fighter, like you or me. You know what happens to the weak here,” he scoffed. “What was it that you used to say? That the weak exist to serve the strong and die? Yeah,” he said diabolically, a grin etching itself on his face. “That’s what happened.”

She knew he was lying; Y/N walked this earth still. She and her wife’s souls were so intertwined, Valeria would have felt it if her wife was gone. Y/N could never leave without her heart knowing. Valeria would put her hand through fire to prove her conviction.

“If I thought she was dead, I would have shot you on sight,” she said. Her hand gripped a blade tightly, willing herself to stop shaking.

Alejandro laughed. “Oh, I didn’t mean she was dead.” His gloved hands held onto his vest as he looked down at her. “I meant that your wife served me.”

Unable to contain her wrath any longer, Valeria lunged at him with a scream.

tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne  @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp

thanks for supporting me!!

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty valeria #cod imagine #valeria garza #cod valeria #valeria garza x reader #valeria x female reader #valeria x reader

[rebxxy]

Daddy’s Home…

A/n; I’m a slut for men in the military and Sanemi, so might as well combine them!!

Pairing; Soldier!Sanemi x wife!reader. (+babies)

He looks so dreamy in his uniform, so dreamy you started drooling when you first saw him in it. With his combat boots, slutty lil waist, and those camo cargo pants that make his ass look absolutely phenomenal!! It really is a shame that he’s almost always on deployment, never being able to stay longer than 30 days. But he always makes those 30 days feel like a year— taking you to the fanciest restaurants in town, buying you a promise ring with both of your initials engraved on it, or stuffing you full of his cum until all you can do is beg for more.

It’s definitely his favorite part upon returning, and he’s VERY open about it. Ask him what his favorite hobby is and he’ll say ‘eating my wife’s pussy’, with the happiest smile the world has ever seen. Your moans and whines are so much more precious to him than any wordly expenses, to him it’s something he has to earn rather than you just offering it to him on a silver platter.

Even better if you ask him to get you pregnant again, he loses all self-restraint when you ask him “can we have another baby?”. He has magical sperm, literally all it takes is two tries and then *BOOM* you’re pregnant. All the other members in his squadron are genuinely baffled when they find out that you two already have five kids, and are planning to have more in the future.

Like, is your pussy okay?? How the fuck are you even still breathing after pushing out five kids back to back? They try to tease him about it, but it’s genuinely impressive and respectable that he has so many kids. Breeder balls to the max bro.

His kids are literally so in awe of their papa to, they think he looks so cool with all his equipment on. They all get SUPER excited when he comes home, they all stop what they’re doing and sprint into his arms. Once he gets back they literally never leave his side, they will deadass wrap around his legs and just chill there until they have to eat dinner or go to bed.

Even when they have to go to sleep they always ask to sleep in your guys’s bed. Not cause they’re scared of sleeping in their own rooms, but because they just can’t leave their dads side. As much as Sanemi loves his mini-me’s, he knows when he needs to put his foot down.

He dedicates the morning to his kids, and the night to you😏. Sanemi’s a patient man, but even he can’t deny your womanly charms (all you did was say ‘I love you’ and give him a good night kiss…). Either way your guts are getting rearranged, no exceptions.

He’s gotta make up for all the time he was gone, right? And what better way to do it than giving you another little mini fusion of the two of you. Although some might see it as him only using you as a personal incubator for his kids, but if he could, you’d bet your ass he’d stay by your side every milisecond.

He never cums inside you without your consent either. If you’d rather stop at five, then he’s fine with that— your whole relationship is built on two things, trust and consent. Sanemi’s alot of things, but he’s definitely not a womanizer— he’d much rather be burned at the stake than call any woman a bitch, even if they’re actually acting like one.

And if any man dares to call him one, then best believe he’s crushing balls beneath those big ass boots.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐱𝐱𝐲. 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐘, 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄, 𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌.

#demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #sanemi #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi headcanons #demon slayer smut #kny smut #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi smut #sanemi x you #sanemi x y/n #Soldier!Sanemi #kny sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi imagines #sanemi hcs #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi shinaguzawa #dividers by cafekitsune

[sickuma]

ORPHIC (2) — A Simon Riley fic.

❱ This is the last part of HIRAETH ! I don't want to drag it any longer than this. It's so much fun writing this and exploring more words to add to my vocab! Everyone's been nice (except when they give me their therapy bills) I love you guys srsly, You make writing so much more fun <3

I should have gotten this done HOURS ago, but I had to do stuff and just finished working out T-T but hey, writing block isn't killing me rn.

ꜝ？This fic may contain heavy topics such as death, depression and melt-downs, if any of those are not to your liking. Please do so exit the fic. Angst warning!

➴ SYNOPSIS — Ghost mourns of what's lost; reminiscing of the memories, apologizing, begging for you to hear his desperation for your presence as he sat Infront of your tombstone.

QUERENCIA — (n.) A place from which a one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self.

“Relationships in the military,”

He spoke, pausing to stare at your eyes. Searching for hesitance,

“They tend to be tragic.”

“But we’ll be together, no?”

“look , kid, it's not as easy as it sounds—”

“Do you feel the same way?”

You cut him off, not giving him the chance to speak. Catching ‘the’ simon ghost riley off guard, “Yes.” he breathes out.

“Then I don't see the problem, lieutenant, I love you, you love me. That's what barney said.”

He stares at the void, remembering yet again another memory he kept special in his heart. He wondered if you had not pursued him at that exact moment. Would he still feel the raw pain that plagued his heart now? Would it still hurt all the same?

If you hadn't stubbornly shown him how determined and real your love for him was, would he still be in this position, dreading every day that comes knowing the person he needs the most was taken from him.

throwing his gear onto the side. Making his way back to his quarters without giving anyone a second glance,

Ever since you've been gone, the base has been awfully tense. The rest understood his situation, trying their best to be there for him, all while attending to their own duties. The past few weeks had been the hardest, They could tell Ghost had been on edge.

He’d only speak to them if it's necessary, otherwise he’d be kept to himself. As if the past had repeated itself, there appeared a gap between his friends and him. He was mourning, and he plans to keep mourning,

If that means having you on his mind,

Then he’ll mourn forever.

“Ghost?”

Price’s eyes widened at the sight of Ghost, 

It’s the first month since you've passed away and the rest of the team planned to pay you a visit to show respect and also let you know how missed you are, not just by them, but also by Ghost who seemed to have shut his whole world out.

He saw how Ghost shown a tough facade when he would hear him call for her,

At night, when everyone slept, Ghost cried and wept for you to come back. Begging aimlessly for your return,

Begging endlessly to feel your arms around him again.

Price didn't expect him to be joining them. He hadn't been. The team visited your resting place a couple of times before, he’d invite him but he’ll make up reasons not to go. Price figured he still hasn't accepted that's where your body lays,

The ride to their destination felt almost eerie, the tension leading the hour long drive. Nobody dared to speak, not a single word.

Ghost’s mind resides elsewhere, watching the scenery they drove past. Chest heaving up and down as he struggles to fathom that he’d finally visit you, 

No—he was more occupied with thinking about how it’s only been a month.

It felt longer than that. It felt longer than his training days. He felt more exhausted, more agitated, and more angry. He resents every breathing thing he comes across to,

He knew it sounded cruel, but why do they deserve to live and you don't? You have been the kindest, and yet you were taken first. He couldn't understand,

As a soldier he’d lost multiple comrades, having to face funerals—visit the cemetery, and deal with death itself. Though yours felt unreal,

It felt as if his bones were crushed. He knew how pathetic it seemed, clinging onto someone who's never coming back, but he'd rather cling onto the past if it means having to hold you close to his heart forever, where you belonged.

、 

Everyone got out of the car,

Everyone but him.

Price sighed, not planning to pry. If his breath felt shallow just by being here, he could only imagine what Ghost felt at this moment, considering it was his first time to ever be here.

A few minutes passed, and the three sat quietly at first until soap had cracked a dad joke, lifting the atmosphere just a little bit. They spoke as if you were there, sitting with them, price would constantly glace at Ghost, who sat quietly in the car. He wondered what ran through his mind.

“We should give him his own time to talk to [name].” Price groaned as he stretched when he stood up, the two following closely behind him. “He needs this.”

Ghosts' eyes caught them approaching. He felt his stomach sink. He knew he planned to wait until they finished before he took his turn as he expected himself to break down and shed tears. He didn't want them to see that. And yet he still felt his heart beat faster when they came back,

Price threw him a small smile, a smile of empathy.

As if that's his cue, he jumped out of the car. Taking slow strides towards ‘your’ direction. He never thought he could ever despise a cemetery so much in his life,

The only thing he could think of was the way you laid down there, away from his grasp.

No matter how slow he walks, he soon finds himself in front of ‘you’, oh well—a stone that only proved to him that you're gone. “Have you been waiting?”

He couldn't believe it,

He was talking to a mere stone.

But he’ll take what he can get.

“Wake up.” he stared down with an expressionless face, “enough laziness, [name]. Get up from there.”

“You can have all of the shirts you want from me, you can pluck my eyebrows, do it, you can get a puppy. Anything you want just— just wake up.”

His voice betrayed him the more he spoke, 

The longer he looked at the stone, the way he kept reading the credentials written on it, the more it felt real. Every passing second is just another evidence of your disappearance,

“You always call me mean,”

He swallowed,

“Yet you're the one who left first.” his cold gaze softened, the more he looked at the ground. Under the ground where your body laid.

Where the body of his lover slept eternally.

“How do I find you now? Now that I'm stuck here?”

He recollects his promise, the promise to reunite in your next life. It all pierced through him. He’s a soldier, yet he finds himself worrying about the most ridiculous thing. What if you'd reincarnate before he passed?

What if you leave him behind again,

What if this time you find someone else to love?

What will he be then?

“Remember when you'd go on tangents about how fascinating reincarnation and universes are? I believe you now, okay? So— so wait for me.”

He sat down, quietly enjoying the breeze. He couldn't deny the pain of the piercing ache that developed in his chest. It never really went away. He would simply distract himself.

“I find it hard to sleep again, love.”

“The bed feels colder without you in it. Do i sound cheesy? Do not make fun of me. I want to be honest. Maybe doing that would lessen the overbearing hurt in my chest. It’s just—it’s only been a month since youre gone and im already a fucking mess. I mean, look at me,”

He chuckled,

“I look rough, dont i?” he sighed, “would you still find my eyes pretty even when i tire them out by crying?”

He looked away, observing the serenity of the cemetery. He wondered how many souls wandered around, and if yours were one, and if you stood close to him.

“I feel—just terrible. When I woke up, I thought I'd finally lose it, well I did. I caused price trouble, you'd have scolded me. I really did it this time, pushing everyone away as if you'd come back to tell me off. That's not ever happening, and that's what hurts the most.” 

He spoke slowly, yet he felt out of breath.

“It feels suffocating—you know? To live without you.”

“I don't know why I woke up, I wished I didn't. Maybe then I'd be with you.”

“It’s scary, [name], so scary.” he whispered, the rasp of his voice sounding more evident. “I have no certainty if we’ll see each other again; and I need nothing more than to hold—to feel you again. To hear your voice, to take in your scent. If I have to give everything up for that, I will.”

“Anything just to have you back to me.”

He stared at the words engraved on the tomb,

“but if i have to wait decades or centuries—i will—without hesitance, without a blink, i will. For you, I'll keep being patient.”

“That's how worthy you are [name]. So wait for me please, no matter how long it takes for me to find you again, please wait.”

He spoke lowly, but certainly, no matter where you are, he hoped you'd recognize him, hoping you’d recognize his eyes you loved so much,

“Even if it means i'll have to die again and again, i’ll keep searching for you until we’re back home until i can hear your voice call my name again.”

“Wait for me, [name].”

Hoping you’d recognize your Simon.

、 

Somewhere along the memories,

、 

Somewhere along the universe,

、 

Somewhere along life and death,

、 

Somewhere along—

、 

“Simon.”

“Pardon?” he looked at you, puzzled expression written all over his face. “Whatd you just say?”

“My simon.”

We're home.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod ghost x reader #cod x reader #ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #ghost angst #ghost x you #ghost riley #ghost call of duty #cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley angst #mw2 x reader #ghost imagine #ghost simon riley #cod simon riley #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost fluff #call of duty #call of duty ww2

[jacebeleren]

It bothers me so much that the only transfem rep in mtg cards is this like. Soldier military woman, like 'ooh look at this guy's we made a trans woman who's a part of a war machine' fantastic thank you magic very original

=========

Okay.

First of all, there is no "our" interpretation of the text. My thoughts are my own, and your thoughts are your own. Some of our thoughts might align, but I will not allow you to speak for me.

Second, I am sorry you feel so disappointed in the current state of transgender representation in Magic. I understand your concerns and I think they're valid concerns.

Third, your concerns being valid does not mean I agree with what you have to say, though. Don't come into my inbox complaining unless you're ready for me to honestly respond. Respectfully, your approach to these concerns makes it clear to me that you don't actually understand what you're talking about.

It's apparent that you follow me or have at least seen many of my posts. You appear to respect my opinions / analysis (at least regarding Jace and Tezzeret). So listen to me when I say this:

What constitutes 'good' representation is context-dependent, and it's not something you alone get to decide.

Yes, Alesha is a "soldier military woman", as you said. I understand that you have this complaint because you believe this makes Alesha an example of the stereotype that trans women are violent. But context matters. What you're failing to consider is the fact that she comes from the Mardu Horde, a faction on Tarkir inspired by the Mongol hordes of real-world history. In this context, Alesha isn't presented as violent because she's a trans woman. She's violent because she literally comes from a warrior clan based on one of the greatest military forces in human history. And honestly, with Magic being a combat-centric game, she's not any more violent than any non-Mardu Legends, either.

Do you seriously think a story about a trans woman fighting to proudly declare her trans identity in her culture and later becoming the accomplished and well-respected leader of her clan is bad representation? Does the fact that she's a warrior really outweigh the rest of the lovingly crafted trans narrative they created for her, to you?

It's fine if you feel that way. You don't have to like Alesha or her story. But just because something wasn't made for your taste doesn't mean it's bad writing / bad representation.

Anyway, I highly recommend you read Alesha's story, "The Truth of Names", since it seems like you haven't read it yet. It's a fantastic story-- the most beloved short story in all of Magic, actually. It was the most-read article on the entire Magic website for like 5 years, according to WOTC.

And if you're interested in learning more about transfem characters in Magic who aren't Alesha, I recommend you read about Xantcha, who first appears in the novel "Planeswalker".

Next, I need to make things clear about Ashiok.

Ashiok was never intended to be nonbinary representation. Ashiok was created to be a mysterious, unknowable villain. What makes Ashiok special is that we are not mean to know anything about Ashiok. We do not know Ashiok's species or plane of origin, for example. Another part of that element of mystery is not knowing Ashiok's gender, or how Ashiok identifies. Ashiok's original style guide from Theros explicitly instructs people to not use any pronouns for Ashiok at all (which I still follow because old habits are hard to break.) Official Magic sources did not begin to use they/them pronouns for Ashiok until 2022, in the story "A Garden of Flesh" (another excellent story, BTW.) And they only started using they/them for Ashiok because it is really hard to write a story where the character is mentioned that many times without pronouns.

All this to say: Ashiok as intentional nonbinary representation is certainly not the narrative WOTC is pushing.

Yes, there are many fans of Ashiok who interpret Ashiok as nonbinary, but those are their thoughts and you need not concern yourself with that, if it bothers you so.

As for Niko, it's weird that you say they're "non-existent" in Magic story when 2 of the 5 side stories ("Know Which Way the Wind is Blowing" and "Aim Through the Target") in their debut set Kaldheim were entirely focused on Niko. They're also a starring main character in 15 of the 25 issues of the BOOM! Studios Magic comics.

I'm glad you like my analysis of Jace and Tezzeret as transgender characters. Thank you for that, genuinely. But I want you to understand that the reason I have these interpretations is because I love Magic Story. And more importantly, I actually read it. I love Magic Story, and I have so much respect for the Magic Narrative team and the work they do.

What most people don't understand is that the Magic Narrative Team is in fact very careful and very loving in their approach to queer representation. You may not know this about me, but I'm friends with A LOT of people who formerly or currently work on Magic / Magic Story. Knowing these people personally, I know for a fact that the Magic creative Team does not create queer characters for "diversity points". They're not just checking boxes. The Magic creative team creates queer characters because the Magic creative team is full of queer people and allies who want to tell stories that reflect their own + fans' experiences. And they have to constantly fight to include more / better queer representation in Magic. They want good queer representation in Magic just as much as we do.

Am I going to defend everything they do? No! Are they perfect? No! They are just people. They make mistakes and they have blind spots. For example, in my essay about my analysis of Jace as a trans man, I explain that the reason my interpretation means so much to me is because there is currently zero meaningful representation for trans men in Magic canon. There are zero transgender male characters in Magic canon who have names. That's a HUGE blind spot considering the number of canon trans characters! That's something that disappoints and upsets me.

I'm not afraid to criticize Magic Story, and I do so very often. But I am critical of Magic story because I love it. My criticism does not equal hatred or unhappiness.

Sorry to hear that their efforts at including better trans representation in Magic would piss you off. I'm sorry that you've given up.

Lastly, I think Liliana is cis, but that's just my headcanon.

#mtg #gwunky #long post

[atlas-likes-writing]

Some tips for my fellow fanfic writers who like to write with the Call of Duty lads! I'm not in the military myself (next year I'm going in the army as a combat medic tho) but I come from a military family. Older brother has served in the RAF for 12 years, my ex-stepdad for 22. My biological father served in the US Army and one of my mums was military police. I know a fair amount of shit that goes on (not saying I know everything though. I definitely don't). I'm gonna write a list of the stuff I have read in COD fiction that I've read that isn't entirely accurate and how to make them accurate. If you got any questions feel free to ask! Can't say I'll be able to answer everything though.

Please note that I'm mainly going to be using my knowledge about the Air Force and the Army in the UK. Some things I talk about may be different between the branches so take what I say with a pinch of salt.

Male and female accommodation are separated and if someone is found in the opposite sex's accommodation for any reason (with the exception of maintenance) there will be SERIOUS consequences (like you can get kicked out the military for that shit).

If any SA happens in the military and is brought to court it does NOT go down well. If the accused is guilty it's an immediate dishonourable discharge (and you don't want that because then your pension and shit you've worked for will go down the drain).

I've seen this in a lot of fics with König and Ghost and it really annoys me but Colonel is a higher rank than Lieutenant by a long shot. Like by five ranks (which doesn't sound like a lot but a colonel is one below a brigadier and those guys are fucking evil I swear).

Linked to the above but higher ranking officers do not call lower ranking officers by Sir or Ma'am. Being called that is a compliment and is to be payed by lower ranks when talking to higher ranks. If a high ranking officer talks to a low ranking officer, they'll call them by their rank or their last name/callsign.

Relationships between officers and their subordinates is basically a court marshall in the military if you're not careful. Unless you can prove that the relationship can work out (doesn't usually work) they'll usually move the couple into different sections/squads to keep them separated so they don't become hindered by personal issues. Either that or they'll kick em out. Relationships between two officers is very very very vaguely okay but is still very much frowned upon.

There is a funky term the military use to describe people between the ranks of Lance Corporal and Warrant Officer called "NCO". It's an acronym that stands for "Non-Comissioned Officer". If you're not commissioned that means you're not to be saluted because only commissioned officers can be saluted. Remember that people aren't saluting the person, they're saluting the cap badge on their beret because (if we use the UK as an example) the commission is given by the reigning monarch and you're saluting them instead as a sign of respect. Soap and Gaz are examples of NCOs because they're both Sergeants!

If you're caught bullying someone in the military you'll be immediately kicked out the military within the day so don't even try it.

SAS soldiers are medically trained even if they weren't a combat medic before they signed up for it. Every single member of the SAS is able to perform emergency first aid.

There's actually a bunch of Special Forces in the UK! One is the SAS which we've all heard of but another example is SBS (there's more but I cba to explain all of them). They are of the exact same calibre as the SAS except they're the naval version. They specialise in aquatic shit. There's also the Paratroopers (the guys who jump out of planes and are generally super badass) and the Commandos (also badass, but usually without the plane jumping), as well as a bunch of other acronyms that you're gonna have to research yourself because I can NOT remember them all.

Whenever you enter the Mess (the official name for the canteen or dining hall) headdress of any kind must be taken off as a sign of respect. It's basic mess etiquette. As well as this, you aren't supposed to go on your phone. Also, do not under any circumstances disrespect the chefs. You will regret it immediately. If we go back to the first point though even though Ghost, König, Horanji and all the other mask-wearing folks hide their faces, they're still supposed to remove their masks when they enter. So maybe adapt that into your stories by instead getting a companion of theirs to get food for them!

Sort of links to the above point, but whenever you're at a military base and you're outside, you need to put headdress on. It's compulsory. If they're in civilian clothing they don't (and it's discouraged) but if they're in their in uniform they're supposed to have their berets on.

With the exception of mask-wearing people probably, whenever you go inside you're supposed to take your berets off.

Lower ranks stand to attention when talking to a higher rank as a sign of respect.

You're supposed to be super polite to officers, so if for whatever reason you need to speak your mind or elaborate an idea you can say "Permission to speak freely/bluntly." If your officer is being a dick you can say "Please excuse the tone Sir/Ma'am, but..." but try not to because they'll probably be even more of a dick to you afterwards.

Gambling is a literal no-go unless you're off-duty and off base.

If military personnel go to an event such as a wedding or funeral, they are able to wear their formal parade uniform (if that's the correct term. Please correct me if I'm wrong). Also if someone is receiving a medal they'll also wear their formal shit with the rest of their medals. They would NOT wear civilian stuff like dresses or tuxedos.

This is first aid related but if someone is stabbed do NOT take the weapon out because that thing is the only thing keeping the casualty alive cuz it's blocking up the hole. Take it out and they'll bleed out in seconds.

Salute every officer within 2 meters/6ft of you unless you yourself are not wearing your headdress. If you aren't (e.g you're inside. You're supposed to stand to attention.

If you go inside and you go into an officers office, you put your beret on before you go in and salute them at the door. When you leave you salute them again, leave, take your beret off and go about your day.

If there are multiple officers in one room and you enter, when saluting you need to look at whoever has the highest rank in the room. In most cases in COD fics it'll be to Price, König or Alejandro.

Captain is a lower rank than Colonel.

Officers salute higher ranking officers. E.g- Ghost would salute Price but Price would salute Alejandro if they're deciding to be formal for some fucking reason.

When you salute an officer, the officer should salute back as a way of accepting the compliment.

During official parades, officers carry fucking SWORDS (I'm not joking, look it up).

Punctuality-wise, if you're early to something, you're on time. If you're on time, you're late and if you're late I will send flowers to your gravestone.

Damn this was long. If you got any questions feel free to drop them in my inbox! I'm always happy to answer queries about them. Please reblog so more people can see this!

#yeah good god this was long #worth it though #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig call of duty #simon ghost riley #john price #captain john price

[solradguy]

I don't think either Sol or Ky ever desired the other carnally in the canon despite how homoerotic some of the official media is and ASW's pretty clear support of the ship itself. Actually, I doubt they ever even saw each other naked platonically in like a Holy Order open-air military communal shower-like situation. I do think, pre-Xrd, that they did have a weird kind of hate-respect thing going on for each other though. Like Sol respecting Ky for actually getting shit done but hating him for how uptight he can be and Ky respecting Sol for his efficient combat abilities but hating him for being a lone wolf asshole.

Maybe at the very most, if we're like REALLY generous about it, maybe Ky POSSIBLY had very mild confusing-yet-complex feelings towards Sol at one point because of Sol having been, like, so completely different than anyone Ky was used to working alongside at the time, but I don't think he would ever have pursued any of those feelings. Ever. Because:

1. If he even expressed to Sol how much he looked up to/admired him, there's a very high chance Sol would have been like "What the fuck are you on about. Knock it off" and neither one of them would ever bring it up ever again. If the feelings were more intense than admiration, I'm pretty sure Sol would get super weirded out and just leave. Ky knows Sol good enough to realize the feelings would not be reciprocated; he wouldn't want to risk what thin relationship they already had because of his own feelings.

2. It seems unlikely that Sol hooked up with anyone in the actual canon the entire time after he got turned into a Gear (2016) up until possibly the end of Strive (2187) because he would have been terrified of either killing his partner on accident or getting them pregnant and passing on the Flame of Corruption/his Gear cells, among other things. He knows very well how much of a nightmare the FoC is and almost certainly would have considered the ramifications of passing that on to a child. There is a 0% chance he would have changed his mind to get with this young blond kid trying to boss him around.

That said, I still think Sol/Ky is an absolutely hilarious ship. This ~200 year old grown-ass man that's basically a walking nuclear bomb goes rivals to lovers with a 20 something French Catholic guy he first met as a child soldier in a war against scientific crimes against God and nature?? And it's been THEE biggest Guilty Gear ship for the series' entire 25 year history???? Lmfao??????????

#textpost #I think Sol could pick up Ky by his head and feet and crumple him into himself like crushing a pop can if he really wanted

[scp-l4-clef-alto-001]

Hello. I’m a longtime fan and current author on the SCP wiki, and I wanted to say that your articles have been really important in shaping my headcanon and getting me to join the wiki.

I’ve been writing a Resurrection-adjacent series for a while, and while I included Sparkplug in one tale so far I want to use them more down the line. Do you have any advice when it comes to writing them or are there things you think I should have? Also, sort of related, but is Kitten augmented somehow or is she just Like That?

Watch a lot of military fiction. Band of Brothers, Generation Kill, Call of Duty, etc.

Sparkplug is kind of the opposite of those guys.

Not in the competency: they are extremely competent at what they do, but they didn't buy into the military moto hype. Bullfrog and Skunkboy both had prior military experience, and both of them quit because they couldn't stand the bullshit that comes with being in the military. Skunkboy especially, I think, couldn't fucking stand the whole Marine Corps Hoorah culture thing, which is why he uses "Semper Fi" like it's a swear word.

Do not imagine that this means that they won't fuck up your shit if they have to. But their primary mission is NOT to be the biggest badasses on the planet: their job is to go in, find out what the fuck is happening, and GET THE WORD OUT.

Now, most of the stories about Sparkplug are the times that things went bad and they went hot. Kind of like how most of the stories about Star Trek aren't about the times that the Enterprise was on a diplomatic mission and nothing bad happened. I figure 90% of Sparkplug's missions are to go into a small town, talk to some locals, do a little hiking, and call back to PHYSICS HQ saying, "False alarm, it was just some teenagers flying a drone."

I know you asked about Kitten specifically, but in my head, the four members of Sparkplug's anomalous traits are:

Bullfrog: None. He's just an experienced soldier and a respected leader.

Skunkboy: No anomalous traits confirmed, but he has a nearly supernatural talent for 3D visualization, which mostly manifests in nearly supernatural accuracy with a rifle, but probably has a lot of other uses if you really think about it.

Kitten: Has a unique series of mutations that make her fast, strong and tough, with ridiculous stamina and endurance. She's also over six feet and a half tall and built like a brick shithouse. Downside is that she gets extremely antsy if she has to sit still for very long: she finds it hard to sleep without working out to exhaustion first.

Spider: The Type Blue. Her area of specialty is ancient magic styles, particularly Celtic druidcraft. If she were a hacker, she'd be the type who uses an old style beige clicky keyboard from the 1980s because it just feels better than modern ones.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Tolkien Family Week, Day 3: Extended Family (aka Éomer's substitute dads)

It’s Day 3 of @tolkienfamilyweek and we’re still in Rohan! As usual, I’m thinking about my guy, Éomer. In my head canon, his father-in-law is Elfhelm, the marshal of the Mark most famous for looking the other way when Éowyn and Merry join his éored and ride to war in Gondor. I have a lot of affection for Elfhelm even though his role in the canon is pretty small, and he appears in my work semi-regularly. 

In this case, I found myself thinking a lot about what it means to Éomer to have other father figures in his life, given that his own father died when he was so young, and Elfhelm would obviously be a major one (reminder, in my HC Éomer grew up best friends with Elfhelm’s daughter, who he later married. So Elfhelm had been in Éomer’s life for a long time both as unofficial and official extended family). The context/setting is a time shortly after the war of the ring, as the armies of Rohan are preparing to ride out once again in support of Gondor, this time to help Elessar rid Middle Earth of the evils remaining after the fall of Sauron.

**********

Éomer heard Elfhelm before he saw him. The stomping feet, the angry shouting as those feet approached his office. By the time the door flew open to reveal his father-in-law in all of his displeasure, Éomer was already up and out from behind his desk, ready to address the outburst that was clearly coming. 

“Éomer! Have you heard this nonsense from Hildred?” Hildred was Éomer’s closest military advisor, and he had recently issued new duty assignments for each of the marshals. “Commander of the home forces? I am supposed to stay here and babysit Edoras while someone else takes my men out on your campaign with King Elessar?”

Éomer would not have allowed any other man in Rohan to storm in like this, unannounced and raging, but Elfhelm was no average Rohirrim. He had a claim on Éomer’s affections that no other living man could best, and Éomer was prepared to accept much from Elfhelm that he would not tolerate in others. He tried now to steer the older man to a chair. 

“I have spoken with Hildred,” Éomer said. “And I understand why you are angry. Please, sit. Let us talk this through.” 

Elfhelm threw himself into the nearest chair, but no sooner had his back hit the cushion than he sprang back up to pace angrily across the room. “I’ve been a marshal of the Mark since most of you were still schoolboys. Since that time, I’ve killed more orcs than just about anyone else in Rohan, not to mention Dunlendings or Haradrim or whoever else needed to be dealt with. And I’m every bit as strong now at sixty as I was at twenty.” He stopped in front of Éomer and poked a finger in his chest. “You could ask those fools at Helm’s Deep or outside Minas Tirith whether I’ve gone soft with age. But they couldn’t tell you, because they’re already buried in a mound somewhere with bodies full of holes from my sword!” He stomped a foot for emphasis before resuming his angry steps. 

Éomer sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. To see Elfhelm in such a mood was a vanishingly rare occurrence. Ordinarily, he was almost unnaturally cheerful. He could maintain a happy countenance and a lighthearted spirit through the most appalling conditions, and he lost his desire to trade stories, gossip or groan-inducing jokes only while in the heat of preparations for battle. His gregarious, easygoing nature made him enormously popular with soldiers and civilians alike, but there was little sign of that nature now. 

“Everyone in Rohan has nothing but the deepest respect for you as a soldier.” Éomer tried to find a calming tone that would not be heard as patronizing. “We would all trust you with our lives on a battlefield, without hesitation. Believe me, no one doubts your capabilities.”

Elfhelm wheeled around on his heel. “Hildred must have such doubts, or that order would never have been given. Unless it is not that he thinks me incapable of leading my men but simply that he does not want me to anymore. And, frankly, that is not any better. After all, who is Hildred to make such a decision?”

Éomer grimaced and shook his head. “This has nothing to do with Hildred.” He put a hand on Elfhelm’s arm. “Please sit down, and let us talk calmly. Are you not always the one telling me to keep my head and control my temper?”

Elfhelm huffed in grudging acknowledgement of his own advice. He sat, as requested, but remained perched on the edge of the seat as though to be comfortable would be too much of a concession. He folded his arms and glared out ahead of himself. “Alright. I am sitting.”

Éomer cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. “As I said, this has nothing to do with 

Hildred.” He toed at a crack in the stone floor. “Hildred issued the duty assignments, but he is not the one who devised them. I did.” He looked up. ”I’m the one who wants you to stay in Edoras.”

Elfhelm’s mouth dropped open slightly. “You? You are the one who wants to put me out to pasture like an old stallion who is past his prime? To be stared at and pitied by all the younger studs?”

“Hold on, that is not—“

“‘Oh look, there’s old Elfhelm,’ they’ll all say. ‘Remember when he was once a formidable soldier? How times have changed’.”

“If you will just please allow me—“

Éomer’s attempts to break in went entirely unheeded as Elfhelm instead picked up speed and volume while he continued.

“I have been nothing but good to you since the day you first showed up at my house, a skinny, sad, scared little boy who found comfort and happiness in the friendship of my daughter. A lot of fathers around these parts would have shown you the door right away, you know. They would have thought such a close relationship between a boy and a girl could lead to nothing but trouble. But I welcomed you in. You’ve eaten more meals at my family table than I can count. We’ve celebrated with you, and we’ve grieved with you. We’ve watched you grow and taken pride in what you’ve done and what you’ve become. I didn’t need you to marry Mereliss in order to feel like you were my own son. I had already long since started to think of you that way. But despite all of that, now you would humiliate me like this?”

Exasperated, Éomer jumped to his feet, desperate to get in a word of response. “Enough!” he thundered. When Elfhelm went quiet, Éomer dropped the volume of his own voice and sat down again. He had an almost pleading look in his eye. “Don’t you see? All of that—everything you just said—is precisely why I don’t want you to go off to battle again. You are like a father to me, and I have lost enough fathers already!”

A stunned silence enveloped the room as Elfhelm stared at him, trying to process another unexpected revelation. “You…you are worried for my safety?”

Éomer dashed a hand across his eyes as though to fend off tears. “Of course I am. I was only eleven when my father was killed. He was my hero, and I didn’t think I would ever manage his loss. But then Théoden took us in, and he gave us not just shelter and food but stability and affection and pride. And Théodred took me under his wing, teaching me how to be the kind of man that he was… how to ride and fight, how to make and keep a commitment, how to treat others with respect and kindness. And you gave me a home away from home, a place that I could always go for support and advice and comfort. I always felt welcome in your house, even when Mereliss was not there. And so, against all of my expectations, I found other fathers, not to replace the one I lost but to fill in for him and give me what he no longer could. And now…” He broke off as his voice cracked, and he took a deep breath before continuing. “Now you’re the only one left. And so, yes, I wanted you to take on a safer role, and perhaps that was selfish of me. But I only hoped to make sure that I could keep you for as long as possible. I am sorry.” He dropped his head.

Every hint of anger left Elfhelm’s body in an instant. He looked on Éomer’s slumped form and saw once again the young, vulnerable child who had first come into his life so many years ago. And he knew that protecting that child, who still existed inside the strong, tall body of the man in this chair, was far more important to him than the glory or excitement of yet another battle. He wanted nothing more than to make that child feel loved and secure. 

“Oh, Éomer, my boy. I’m the one who is sorry. I leapt to all the wrong conclusions.” He rose and pulled Éomer to his feet, wrapping him in a tight embrace. When he released him at last, he left a hand on Éomer’s shoulder. “Can you forgive me for my harsh words?”

“If you will forgive me for putting you in this position,” said Éomer. “It is not fair to make you choose between your family and your pride.”

“Oh, to hell with pride. I’ve won enough battles in this lifetime to be a proud soldier already. Now I can be proud just to be the sort of man that the king of Rohan wants to keep around.” He dropped back into his chair, the jovial glint returned to his eye once again, and propped his feet up on a nearby side table, ready to settle in for a long stay. 

#tolkien family week #extended family #eomer #elfhelm #father figures #in-laws that you genuinely love #rohan #forth eorlingas #lord of the rings #lotr fanfiction

[your-subby-creature]

*skitters into your inbox* hey!! if u have anything u wanna infodump about rn or whenever u want, i am sitting down and very ready to listen :D

Hello!!! Since I've been feeling kinda sad/anxious/insecure today (forgot my meds oops), I think for our infodump I'm gonna tell a nice story out of trans history that's always been a niche favorite of mine. Mind you, this is my interpretation, and truly only based off one article from long ago, so take all my tales as slightly taller than they appear. Now settle down, and let your pal Creature spin you a yarn.

..

In the late 1890s, an old farmer, one Mr. Otto Schaffer, was living out his years on a small plot of land in Kansas. He'd served in the Civil War, a Union man through and through, and was content to settle down and make his living in the calm country of the once-bloody state.

Unfortunately for Otto, this land held more than the idyllic calm he'd imagined, and one day a terrible storm rolled through. They say it was as he was sending up a prayer to his God that a bolt of lightning struck poor Mr. Schaffer dead, but the man lived alone, so there's no way to tell what really happened that stormy night. Either way, that storm was his last, and when the townspeople came to collect Otto's body, the lightning strike wasn't their only surprise.

Now, they didn't quite use the same terms and divisions we have now, so when the press ran the headline "The Old Soldier a Woman," it was really about as close as they could get to explaining the deceased Mr. Schaffer's transness. They seemed to sense it too, seeing the man in front of them as more than his assigned sex at birth, never once misgendering him in the article, never questioning that he'd get the soldier's burial he deserved.

It was an honor reserved for men, in those days, and not a single one of his brothers in arms so much as thought of refusing to raise their guns for the final salute as Otto Schaffer's body was lowered into the ground. It must have been a shock, then, as the guns went off and the whole town said their goodbyes, when a single dove fell from the sky, shot dead by the salute, coming to rest near Otto's grave.

The papers honestly seemed more intrigued by this second death than any of the events prior we may see as more salacious today, calling it "peculiar and romantic," spending more time on what the dove could have meant than anything truly surrounding Otto or his body.

The article was published around the state but no further, just another oddity to read in the paper, nothing special about the old soldier Otto Schaffer except for the dove who lost its life to his final gun salute.

Other than this single article, we know nothing of Otto's life, nothing of the man he was or the person he would have been today, and yet I find myself smiling when I think of his story. He's the earliest evidence I've found for an American trans funeral, and yet he was respected and honored by his local community, by the military, by the press (who cared more about the bird than anything, so it seems.)

I feel a kinship with him, a tie that binds across the centuries, and while I know his existence is more complex and ambiguous and altogether unknown, his story never fails to remind me that we've always been here, and we've always been loved by someone.

..

(Remember that this is heavily narrativized by some guy on the internet, fully my creative nonfiction take on a primary source. The original is available in the Digital Transgender Archive, either Otto Schaffer's name or the headline "The Old Soldier A Woman" should get you to it. It's important to write and teach our histories through storytelling, but I don't want to create any impressions that this is all objectively 100% hard fact that's had no personal spin at all. I embellished for narrative effect, and I gladly and openly admit it. Lastly, this whole story exists in a broader context of colonialism and white supremacy and the gut-wrenching history of the United States, and I do want to make sure we remember and acknowledge that. )

-your Creature

#Creature responds #soft-caramel #storytime with creature #i feel like someones old peepaw sitting them down by the fire to spin a yarn and tell a tale #REITERATING THAT WHILE THIS IS BASED ON A PRIMARY SOURCE I HAVE HEAVILY EMBELLISHED PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS AS GOSPEL TRUTH #i dont want another who threw the first brick at stonewall situation with my boy otto schaffer #btw there were things thrown at stonewall but none of them were bricks its a nice story but also a myth

[felixcloud6288]

Fullmetal Alchemist Chapter 106

So what exactly did Scar pull off? Did it destabilize the Philosopher's Stone layer Father had placed or did it rewrite the formulas used to transmute?

His wording sounds more like the latter. Amestrian Alchemy uses formulas taught to them by Father 350 years ago, making them dependent on his whims. He doesn't remark that anything is amiss, just that it's not working now.

And now w're seeing a bit of Izumi's personal flair with Alchemy. Ed likes to make his long range stone attacks look like beasts. Al makes his look like fists. Izumi makes spikes on chains.

Izumi's style seems fairly resource conservative. Like, why bother making this giant pillar when a chain takes less mass and is way more capable of movement?

One of the cannons Ed makes looks like a monster's mouth.

Here's a bit of trivia from the English translation. In chapter 31, Greed was originally chained to a cross but it was changed to a large stone slab. This is because FMA came out in the 2000s, an era where there was an foolish belief that all media has to appeal to Christian extremists even though they make up an insignificant percent of your audience and they would decry your work as being of the devil no matter what you do.

I bring this up because there's a flashback panel in this chapter that shows Greed strapped to the cross instead of a stone slab.

Those are two separately drawn images by the way.

All the guys just made a rectangular stone pillar and called it an elevator. Izumi's the only one who added any flair to hers.

Ed lost his leg and had to learn how to rely on others to keep standing.

Al lost his body and had to learn how to find enjoyment with what he had.

Izumi lost her organs and had to learn to treasure the time with the family she has.

Roy lost his sight and is learning how to rely on others for guidance.

Did nobody in the crowd notice Greed shimmying his way up? He managed to reach the floor Scar and Lanfan are on. And that is above the floor Hawkeye and the Armstrongs are on.

Greed wanted Wrath dead. He found no satisfaction with getting what he wanted.

Kimblee wanted to see if humans or Homunculi were more fit to rule the world. While he joined the Homunculi because they let him kill and destroy, he was ideologically neutral in the conflict.

And he utterly despises hypocrisy. If you claim one thing, you need to act on it. He hated how Roy and Riza didn't like killing but still joined the military. Meanwhile he showed respect to Alex who chose to defy orders and save Ishbalans.

Kimblee has nothing but respect for Ed because Ed has the conviction to not kill despite everything.

Meanwhile Pride's conviction was that the Homunculi were superior to humans. But he would rather survive using a human vessel rather than die as a Homunculus. And for that, Kimblee decided that the Homunculi do not deserve to inherit the future.

He tips his hat and vanishes, knowing that Ed will win this conflict.

Maybe at some point, Father tried to make an actual family. He made a tiny little being to call his son. And as a parent, he wanted to think of it as his pride and joy. But because he does not put the effort into truly understanding anything, he couldn't understand why people find joy in family.

And so he took that little being and infused it with the essence of his own pride. And that little being he once tried to make a family out of was turned into a pawn for his schemes. And so Pride served Father in the hopes he might receive the love that would be expected of a family.

And that original being, stripped away from Father's ego is what Ed found.

A quick hint to Father's weakness. The moment he had to defend himself from Hohenheim, he had to stop trying to rip the souls out of those soldiers. So he can't multitask. He's all strength and no skill.

But that should be obvious at this point. He has no creativity. He only knows how to scheme and steal power. He doesn't know how to use it to its potential.

How messed up is the King of Cselkcess that he's still obsessed with immortality even after everything that's happened.

Of course, it was all a stalling tactic as Father waited for Ed to arrive and he could strike all of them at once.

back

#fullmetal alchemist reread #fullmetal alchemist

[silverjetsystm]

[ painkiller ] [ hurricane ] [ planter's punch ] // for Marc !

𝑪𝑶𝑪𝑲𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑳 𝑸𝑼𝑰𝒁 | Accepting!

[ painkiller ]  what is their greatest regret?

Regrets drag at him like seawater. Large ones are easy to point out. Bosqueverde, Marlene and her whole family, Jeff, handling Bushman the way he did, Frenchie's legs, the terror he committed during the SRA, the Age of K.honshu...

Knocking his old man to the dirty canvas of a boxing ring, is rather tame in comparison to the vast amount of terrible things he has done. That jab of anger at Poppa, the crowd's laughter at his kippah and tzitzit ringing in their ears, signaled the end of his childhood, physically rejecting his father's faith, pacifism, and belief.

It was the last time he saw his father alive.

18 years later - after being forged into a weapon, dying, becoming M.oon K.night, and putting Rand in the ground, he returns to bury Poppa. He made up his mind too late after getting the call that Elias wanted to talk to him.

If he had listened - or at least didn't get into that fight, he may have been a different person.

[ hurricane ]  which song describes them the most? why?

Gonna have to give it to canon. MacKay, who's been writing the main comic since 2021, made "The Killing Moon" by Echo and the Bunnymen Marc's alarm and ringtone.

Hearing the "All Night Version" rewired something in me.

[ planter’s punch ]  how long does it take to befriend them?

How much time do you have?

TL;DR: Marc's frustrating. He has friends from the work. 'Regular' people friends are few and far in-between. Part of it is his own hang-ups (his violence, people dying because of him, Steven and Jake are much more sociable) and currently uses Mr. K.night to interact with the world. However, he loves his friends and would do anything to help or protect them.

Marc is very professional when he's on team ups. He's respectful, defers to expertise, and polite. He's used to hearing ablest remarks about him and his reputation is bad. The callbacks to the 2006 run are real. (for those who don't know, that's the time where MK carved off Bushman's face and had a tendency to carve crescent moons in bad guy's foreheads). The frustrating one is that people assume Khonshu is part of Marc's mental health struggles. Part of this is the team book writers not knowing much about MK history and its easy fruit. So I don't automatically assume any character would be having that POV in a thread.

Historically, Marc had a small but strong support group. His then-girlfriend, Marlene, and his best buddy (and brother in arms), Frenchie. Steven and Jake had a wider social circle. Gena, her sons, and Crawley were Jake's friends first and foremost. People would drift in their orbit but would either be maimed and/or killed. Over time, Marlene and Frenchie leave (or get pushed away). Both suffered a lot of bullshit for being Marc's friend and Marc is frustrating to get along with. He's incredibly mission-focused, lies, projects, and deflects as coping mechanisms. He thinks people would rather hang out with Steven or Jake. He's convinced himself that he doesn't need love.

He does still love and have friends, though. His current friends are a mix of old hero friends (or girlfriend, in T.igra's case), a brother in K.honshu, and ex-military (well, H.YDRA). Which is why any 'regular' people who stick around in his orbit are almost put on a pedestal. Reese, his vampire secretary, is in her late teens and was forcibly vampirized. Rather than stake her and the rest of the fellow captives, he took them in.

Marc-as-Mr. K.night (while he's getting his ass kicked as MK in the front) says to Steven and Jake in MK (2021) #15 "She's good for me. Everyone I know is a super hero or ex-H.YDRA or a Rival Fist like H.unter's M.oon. But Reese? She's just a normal person managing a condition. She's the one I need to be like."

Still, Reese and Soldier haven't seen Marc as Marc yet. Just as MK in the field or Mr. K.night in the Midnight Mission. They're friends, T.igra told them Marc's name, and he eventually trusted them with the knowledge that he's part of a system. But always after the situation forced his hand.

#asked and answered #headcanons #windy city | rabbi's son #reese #welcome to the midnight mission

[cwarscars]

3,5,6,9 for the Villain questions.

Questions for Problematic/Villain muses

3. What’s an inherently problematic view your character holds

well, i mean - he hates the entirety of wutai (that’s pretty terrible). haha, i think that the thing with heidegger is that initially, he didn’t even care for countries or places / where somebody’s from. i think he does live by stereotypes; he looks at certain places in the world and will judge people based on them (not necessarily in a harsh way) but more of a - for example - i write him as being from junon and junon was traditionally a fishing town / sea-town. so if somebody said they were from junon, he’d mention the sea. 

however, his hatred of wutai / the wutai people is more-so born from his personal loss at the hands of wutai. 

so usually, whereas heidegger would be like ‘yeah, whatever, fuck gongaga. we’re gonna build a reactor there, i dont care a fuck if it explodes’. and not have an opinion on the people. for wutai - he’d be like ‘good, yeah. fuck that place and fuck it’s people’. 

i headcanon that heidegger takes a particular prejudice with wutai because of the way shinra has done so terribly in the war against them for years (until sephiroth comes along). he entirely takes the loss personally, and sees it as something that reflects on himself. i also headcanon that his scar and the reason he stopped fighting on the front lines was because of wutai and so that’s another reason why he hates the place so much and will find any excuse to go to war with them. it’s a dumbass, prejudice view to have and is probably one of the worst that heidegger holds.

as a side-note, also his classism. which is arguably as bad, seeing as it’s not birthed from anything but him being raised rich.  

5. What’s makes your muse respect someone? Are they capable of respecting others without reason?

heidegger doesn’t respect anybody until he sees them in action. like, he likes strength and he likes boldness. he isn’t the sort to respect someone snakey or underhanded (even if he, himself, is very underhanded in his tactics). 

for example, him and shinra are such good friends because he respects the way that shinra is ruthless and gets what he wants. he admires the mans ability to win. i see heidegger as a bit of a bloodhound so when he smells blood, he’s happy. if somebody has a kill count and they’re efficient, he’ll like them regardless of whether they’re fighting for the right or wrong side. 

in a way, he’d probably actually very much like somebody like barret (for example) because barret is very strong-willed and heidegger likes people like that. unfortunately (or fortunately, idk haha) for barret - he’s in AVALANCHE and believes the ‘wrong’ things in heidegger’s view. 

heidegger would never respect somebody without a reason (aside from his kids). 

6. Do they automatically assume certain people are lesser than them?

yes, absolutely. i mentioned briefly above that heidegger is very classist. he sees those living in the slums as unworthy (drilled into him at a young age by his parents / military academy). however, heidegger’s arrogance goes one step further - he sees like 90% of people as less than him. 

in a weird way, he has a sort of complex that tells him he’s done more and therefore deserves more than others. it’s this idea that he should be treated better and be above others because he’s made sacrifices in the past (a bit of a martyr complex honestly!) 

9. What’s a line your muse won’t cross under any circumstance?

AW MAN 

well

this is a doozy. 

i’ve actually mentioned in my rules how heidegger is a lot of things but one for sa / r/pe he is not. i mentioned it there because i used to get approached for it a lot. i think that people see a big, angry guy who is kind of a dick and they assume he would sink to that level, too. but the fact is. heidegger absolutely wouldn’t. the man is physical and he’s aggressive, yes. but i imagine (with me headcanoning him to have two daughters), he isn’t pushy or forceful to women (unless their soldiers and he’s pushing them over a fucking obstacle course or some shit lmao). 

also, in a canon sense - when hojo suggests ‘mating’ aerith, heidegger’s reaction is audible and visual disgust. i remember it really irking me when the remake came out because i saw people talking about how ‘the only director who cares’ when hojo mentions this is reeve but that simply is not true. both heidegger and scarlet show visceral disgust. i think it’s poignant that they added this reaction because, to me, it shows that heidegger would never entertain something like that. he’s an asshole, yeah, but he isn’t like that. 

(i also love that they included his reaction and made it so prominent, too because, to me, it gave him a little humanity - and i think says a lot because we /barely/ see the reaction from the others. why does it focus on heidegger so prominently? like, urgh, i love the suggestion there by doing so). 

#I MADE A GIF JUST TO SHOW #thank you nonnie sorry i waffled your lil ear off c: #(answered) #(headcanon) #tw; rape mention #tw; sa mention

[unknownjpegs]

capture

They’d usually leave these ones alone. SAS soldiers aren’t to be fucked with, and it’s more trouble than it’s worth to get information out of them. One, because they’re trained well and  nobody’s got the fucking patience to bother, and two because they’re a bit more protected than other groups. Just as expendable as everyone else, of course, but a special forces trooper is more likely to draw attention than some no-name, nondescript merc kid gone missing.

But sometimes, exceptions are made. When a group of KorTac guys, bloodied and limping with busted-lips, bring in the kicking and.curse-spitting SAS medic, Bunny asks König what that particular exception had been.

In his careful, precise accent: “Knocked a few teeth. Being fucking annoying. Does not shut up.” 

Mouse will relate to her later that he’d gone up against three operators, broken a tibia with a nasty, sneering stomp and crimson-streaked grin. That it had taken König’s hulking strength to get him in any sort of subdued state to bring in. 

Seem way too into that leg crush, Bunny tells her, pointing with her smoldering cigarette. 

It was, Mouse offers, fingers clasped under her chin and eyes bright with recollection, so disgustingly cool. He also broke four of Smith’s ribs!

He gets roughed up a bit for the attitude, for the damage he’s done, for some pointed, filthy comments made towards certain familial members. 

Then they bring Bunny in.

Not because she’s any good as an interrogator. Most of the time, KorTac’s got her cozy in an office on base, pouring over documents and using her experience with certain government entities and the British Army to glean info. Bunny gets paid real handsomely for it. Enough that she only feels a bit guilty for the fight she’d had with a particular lieutenant when he discovered her sneaking away one night. 

Mercenaries, Buns? Are you fucking kidding me? You’re setting yourself up to be a domestic terrorist. You’re gonna be on wanted lists, and we’ll have to — Jesus. Have you absolutely lost your goddamn mind? Have you gone full mental? Yeah, you have. You have gone full fuckin’ mental. 

Call me, Bunny had said with her finger and thumb to her ear, and was gone. 

He’d let her go. 

So they bring her in because he’d been found with a paper in his pockets. And Bunny is good with mysterious papers.

“Could be coordinates,” König told her as she entered, handing her the paper. “Could be orders. See if he will tell you which one. Or see if you can figure it out, yourself.”

“And if he doesn’t tell me?” She quirks an eyebrow, looking from the scrawled symbols and letters up at him. “What if he gets out of those zipties and bludgeons me half to death like he did Smith?” She bats her eyes at him.

König huffs in a way that tells her he’s grinning beneath the hood, and claps a hand to her shoulder. “Then Mouse and I will be right outside with a gun and a big knife, and we’ll avenge you.”

Bunny rolls her eyes at him. “Thanks, big guy. Very comforting.”

He’s knelt on the the ground when she goes in. There is blood splattered on the floor in a circle surrounding him, a split in his lip and another across one thick eyebrow. It’s quirked, but his eyes are steely and cold as they follow her around the room. 

“You’re not a soldier.” 

Bunny glances down at herself; button-up shirt and suspenders, dark khakis, sensible loafers. “Fuck, they are training a perceptive new generation, aren’t they?”

His eyes narrow, but his mouth twitches as if he wants to grin. Gotcha, Bunny thinks. Mouthy kid. Of course you respect a little bit of shit talk. 

“Wouldn’t know. Don’t keep up with the training, nowadays.”

“Uninvolved, huh?” Bunny slips her arms over her chest. She tries to slip another needle past the ill-tempered, fast-mouthed medic’s armor: “Feeling disillusioned in the military industrial complex?”

She’s not fully expecting it to work. She is certainly not expecting the wild, sudden chuckle she earns for it. 

“Honestly, ma’am? You nailed it. If m’honest, kinda wanna get home at this point,” the medic says. His monotone is nearly bored, tinged with a snide clip of indignant, grumpy annoyance. As if he’s not trussed up and sporting a nasty, reddening bruise on his swelling cheek. As if his capture is simply a tiny, pesty snag in an otherwise pleasant day.

Bunny likes that. What she doesn’t like is —

“No ma’ams please, thanks.” She leans back against the table, head tilted. A tingle of recognition zips across her vision. 

“Wait. Hold on.”

“Bit of déjà vu?” The soldier offers, lips quirking. “Yeah, same. You —”

“You look familiar.” Her eyes narrow, and then widen on a laugh. “Oh Jesus Christ, you know Simon.” She grimaces, remembering the circumstances of their first encounter and her swirl of annoyed dismay at Simon’s persistently immoral letching. “Ew. You know Simon.”

His eyebrows shoot up, disappearing into the sweaty, dark curls. “Simon. M’gonna guess from that, y’know him too.” He is literally tongue-in-cheek, mouth in a full, knowing smirk. I know why you know him, and you know why I know him.

“What a small fucking world.”

Bunny snorts. “Not really. He’s just been through the entirety of it.” Her arms unconsciously drop, heels on the table either side of her hips. “What’s at home?” 

The soldier laughs again; a barking, loud sort of thing that seems yanked from him. He settles back on his heels, the tense posture dropping to mirror her relaxed form. He shoots Bunny another one of those grins, edged just so with filth, and she could roll her eyes — probably this exact expression that had caught Ghost’s attention in the first place.

“Tall redhead.” He intones, somehow severely serious and suggestive at the same time. “Screen addiction and got a sense of humor that’s pure shite. But nice eyes.” His crooked grin twists. “Big fuckin’ —”

“All right,” Bunny interrupts, both palms up. She finds it very hard to control her own smile. “Okay. Fair.”

And it’s funny, because that’s exactly the type of information they’d need for torture. He’s offering up a hand of cards for them to play. Somebody at home, point of vulnerability to stretch and mold like clay? That’s a weak spot, right there. Usable. If she wanted to, she could call König back in and have him knock a few of the guy’s teeth out. Threaten to do the same to his vulnerability.

Except something tells Bunny that won’t be necessary. So she nods her head and offers a hand signal. Outside the tent, König’s hulking six-something shadow shifts, relaxes. Steps away, rifle dropping from the position it had undoubtedly been in, aiming dead-center on the medic’s chest.

“What’s on the paper?” She pats over the table for the yellow lined notebook page, waves it in the air. 

His cheeks color a bit, ruddy wash over brown skin. Those engaged, disciplined dark eyes go suddenly loose, bouncing away into every corner of the room except the one she occupies.

“It’s not intel.” He sounds sheepish.

“Usually that’s what people with intel say.” 

“It’s not.” He insists. “It’s — fuckin’ hell.” Shake of his head again, curls bouncing. “Embarrassing.” 

She lifts a brow. Go on. Embarrass yourself. It’ll entertain me.

He sighs, steady gaze on the ceiling. “We’re bingein’ some YouTube stuff about Cold War codebreakers, and it’s real dull,” he inclines his head at her little glare, “Hey, sorry. No offense, if that’s what you do, but it is. So he gets bored, yeah? Starts fixatin’ on doing a code for himself, right, and so that paper’s this dumb little note for me and it —”

“God,” Bunny says, “They were right. You don’t shut up, and also I do not fucking care.”

She gets his wrists and ankles untied with her pocketknife — gift from Mouse — because she wants to get rid of him. Not because she’s immediately fond or anything. 

“You should probably,” she says, stepping back to give him space to stand, “be more careful not to get captured anymore. Especially if you want to get home safe so bad. Kinda the wrong career if that’s the case. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yep,” he chirps as he gets to his feet. She’s surprised to see he’s much smaller vertical. “Last hurrah I’m on the hook for, this time’ round.” Pats his side. “Last bit before I get my med discharge cleared. Then I’m out, and, y’know.” He shrugs, dazzles her with a full grin. “Home.”

“Home.” Bunny says, head tilted, and then offers a sneering snort. “Christ. That is embarrassing, you know that?”

“Yeah, whatever,” he responds, rolling a stiff shoulder and extending his arms out. The shakes his hands, cracks a few knuckles, and stretches his fingers in a series of movements that seems more habitual than helpful. “Benji, by the way. Didn’t get a chance, last time.” 

Benji sticks his hand out. Sage green SAS gloves, muddy and blood-stained from being thrown around in the dirt and fighting. His brown fingers are warm when Bunny takes them in hers, pumps once.

“Dr. Bunny Sullivan,” she offers, and gives him a warning look when something cheeky slips across his face. “No comments on it, please.”

“Boss,” he says. “Want me to say hi for ya, Dr. Sullivan?” 

“To Simon?”

“Yeah.” 

“Fuck no,” Bunny barks out a laugh and pats him on the cheek. “Fuck no. See you around.”

König, confused but acquiescing to Bunny’s request, gets him an escort out of their territory. And then Bunny’s new favorite empty-headed SAS soldier is loosed unto the world once more. 

“He have info?” König stands beside her, offering a light for the cigarette she tucks into her mouth.

“Nah,” Bunny says, glancing up at him and blowing smoke. “Just really fucking annoying.”

#writing #ua #bp #bs #core au

[ignitiveifynovelcafe]

Cattenach Ranch Series by romance author Kelly Moran is a story about love and forgiveness.

Cattenach Ranch Series:

BOOK ONE ~ REDEMPTION: Nearly the last remaining member of Olivia Cattenach's family has just died overseas and left her overcome by grief. But when a soldier shows up at her ranch with a final message from her brother, she finds new purpose. Nathan Roldan is as formidable as they come. Bulging muscles and inked to boot, he looks like every bit the bad boy he claims to be. Except, under his shuttered gaze and behind his walls lies a gentle giant. Determined to carry out her brother's wishes, she chips away at Nate's layers and discovers more pain than any person should ever have to endure. And a passion she never dreamed was possible.

He's not the hero she thinks he is...

Nate's mistake got a fellow comrade killed, and a deathbed promise to take care of the guy's sister lands him in Wyoming with the hope of redemption. But he wasn't expecting...her. Beautiful, witty, and sweet, Olivia is everything he doesn't deserve. Born a nothing, he'll die a nothing. Though guilt is a living thing, temptation is too hard to resist. Somehow, she's unleashing his restraint and unearthing feelings he buried long ago. He wants her. More, he's worried he needs her. She's trying to save him, but when she learns the truth, he'll lose the only happiness he's ever known.

"An emotionally raw story with beautiful prose. A compelling read." ~Katie Ashley, New York Times & USA Today Bestseller

Read Now!

Western romance

Protector

PTSD

Military hero

Dark secret

Emotional scars

Broken

BOOK TWO ~ BENEDICTION: As a child, Nakos Hunt left behind the familiarity of his Native American Arapaho tribe for time on Cattenach Ranch. Now the foreman, he's happily settled into his life, but the girl who befriended him all those years ago suddenly has him twisted inside out. He craves stability and purpose, and Amy Woods is anything but a calming presence. Though she's unbelievably gorgeous and about the only person who can drag a laugh from him, he's never been able to understand her. Then a moment changes everything, and an urgent need to protect her rises inside him. And doesn't let go. So does an aching desire and a bond he can't seem to control, no matter how hard he fights the need.

She's no one's version of ever-after...

Amy's not a stranger to disappointment. She's spent the majority of her life pulling up her bootstraps and flipping Karma the bird. Once, she may have dreamed of things like happiness and love, but those were for other people. Nakos has never been someone she deserves, yet the attraction between her and the meticulous sexy-as-sin cowboy is undeniable. And too tempting to ignore. Not only is he strong, patient, and respectful, he's showing her a kind of romantic passion she didn't think existed. But the secret she's keeping could shatter their perfect bubble, and when an old nightmare comes crawling back from the past, she realizes losing Nakos will be the one thing she can't recover from.

"Benediction is friends-to-lovers done oh so right! I devoured this book!" ~Laura Kaye, New York Times & USA Today Bestseller

Read Now!

Western romance

Friends-to-lovers

Native American

Multicultural

Dark secret

Emotional scars

Survivor

LINK:

www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09CWLB9WK

[merakiaes]

Captain Jealous - William Lennox

Pairing: William Lennox x reader

Requested: By @neemonroe​

Prompts: #20, #41, #42 from the smut-list. 

Warnings/notes: Takes place before Transformers. Not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes. Might be a little bit OOC but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please reblog and comment, it would make my day <3 

Wordcount: 3806

Summary: Flirting with Will only seems to result in annoyance, but when you finally turn your attention elsewhere, he’s not very pleased. 

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that, when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To most, you were one of the strongest and most admirable women they’d ever gotten the pleasure of meeting, but to others… well, let’s just say that you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

You were absolutely relentless when you put your mind to something and one of the many people who had fallen victim to that stubbornness was William Lennox.

Having enrolled in the army around the same time and being equally as good at what you did both back in training and in the field, the two of you had always respected each other and rather than being competitive, tried your best to lift each other up.

If one of you took control of a situation and started shouting out orders, the other didn’t question it, not even when Will eventually passed you in ranks. Because your minds worked in the exact same ways and so it didn’t really matter who gave the orders since the orders would be the same in the end, anyway, no matter whose lips they passed.

But you did differ in the way that Will much preferred to keep his personal life separated from his professional life, while you had a habit of letting them merge together, which inevitably resulted in you bringing the obvious attraction you felt for him with you out on the field.

Will was one of the people who thought you had taken your mother’s advice a bit too literally. That was what he told you on a daily basis as a response to your endless flirting, at least. But you knew better; you knew that he, at least to some extent, reciprocated your attractions, thanks to the few moments you had shared back in training.

“It was all fun and games back then”. He liked to say in that stern, military voice he had picked up the second he was promoted to Captain. “But this is the real deal. This is serious, and this, this thing you’re doing, is unprofessional.”

Ever the workaholic soldier, he was, at this point basically having dedicated his entire life to the job with no time to spare for fun. But no matter how hard he tried denying it, you knew that the two of you shared something, and so did every other member of your squad.

The only ones who seemed completely clueless to this were the newbies and as you gradually lost hope that your stubborn captain would ever admit and give in to his feelings, you found it to be a breath of fresh air to be able to spend time with people who weren’t constantly making suggestive remarks and fueling the attraction from your side.

One, in particular, caught your eye; tall, dark and handsome. He had yet to gain more muscle than the bare minimum and was, admittedly, kind of lanky. He was one year younger than you which was way too young seeing as you’d otherwise not even go for guys the same age as you, but he had banter and shared your flirty, dirty, cheeky sense of humor which, most definitely, made up for what he lacked in life-experience.

Will had smugly watched all of the newbies try to make a move on you only to be shot down quicker than your enemies, but then the last of the soldiers had swept up by your side, put a long, lean arm over your shoulders, and hit you with the cheesiest pick-up line he had ever heard. 

“How you doing, mama? You must be a parking ticket, ‘cuz you got fiiine written all over you.”

While Epps, Fig and the rest of the team broke out into laughter at the man’s poor technique, Will’s face transformed from smug to stone-cold murderer. 

Why? Because he knew that you didn’t want a man to tell you the stars reflected in your eyes or that you took their breath away with your beauty.

What you wanted was someone who could make you laugh, and when you threw your head back and joined in on the seemingly endless laughing fit, he was overtaken by a feeling so strong that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

And you noticed the change of demeanor immediately. The long, hard stares were only the tip of the iceberg, as was the way he would move closer to you and find a way to touch you as much as he possibly could without making it inappropriate or suspicious. 

The most extreme part of his change in behavior was how hard and strict he suddenly became with the rookie, who had quickly earned himself the reputation of your very own lapdog. 

He got scolded even for the most insignificant of mistakes, always got put on parade as the “example” in exercises in which he was usually thrown to the ground by Will himself and totally and completely humiliated.

Of course, those moments were just poor thinking on Will’s part seeing as you, besides being incredibly flirty and witty, also happened to be one of the most caring members of the team. 

Not only did he have to watch you laugh until your stomach hurt at the rookie’s bad jokes, but he also had to watch you comfort and reassure him after his one-on-one’s with the Captain.

And still, Will couldn’t stop himself from making the same mistake again and again, the consequences every time being that he was stuck watching you fuss over the younger soldier, because no matter how much it vexed him, he knew that you knew why he was acting the way he was. 

It was all a game to you and he played along because he wanted to keep showing you that he was the better option. Unluckily for the rookie, though, Will’s method of showing dominance was through physical contact.

You knew what Will was doing, how he was trying to punish the rookie, mildly and legally, of course, while simultaneously trying to show you that he was displeased with what was going on; that he wanted it to stop.

To a start, you only showed interest in the rookie to fuck with Will, but you quickly realized that he was actually a fun guy to hang around.

You enjoyed spending time with him. Not a second with him went without laughter and it was nice to be able to have fun like that for a change, and soon enough, you’d more or less forgotten about the silent war between the two of you.

You probably knew that it wasn’t a real interest, judging by the way you didn’t even care enough to remember his name, but it was fun to have another banter-buddy.

You’d had an identical friendship with Epps since the start, but two people could only keep the creativity up for so long; after a while, you just couldn’t come up with witty remarks and sarcastic jokes, anymore.

Up until then, Will had still kept his disapproval about the whole thing lowkey, because as long as you were only doing what you were doing to make him jealous, you were still interested. 

But when you started making moves on the rookie with genuine interest, without looking over at Will while doing it, it was no longer a game. 

While already on the topic of games, you were completely useless when it came to cards. It didn’t matter what game you played; you’d always end up as the loser. And although you enjoyed the banter that followed the teasing of your poor card-playing abilities, your patience wasn’t endless.

“Alright, I’m calling it.” You chuckled after losing the fifth game of the evening, dropping your thick deck of cards onto the table in front of you.

“Really? But it was going so good for you.” Epps wasted no time in firing back with feign-surprise, to which all you did was deliver a sharp slap to his head.

The table broke out into laughter. “You had that coming.” Fig shook his head, successfully starting a metaphorical war. 

You chuckled at their antics and pushed back your chair, getting to your feet and stretching your arms above your head.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You said, and wasted no time in starting to collect your things.

The rookie’s attention was instantly piqued, and so was Will’s, who had been playing in silence nearly the entire time you’d been there.

“You know, I need to shower, too.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. “So, I should probably join you. You know, save water. Provide some extra heat.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raised a playful eyebrow and chuckled. “Tempting offer, but I’ll have to take a raincheck on that. Glad to know I have options, though. Maybe next time.”

Without waiting for his reply, you snatched your jacket from a nearby stool and playfully flicked his forehead, before turning around and walking away, completely oblivious of the pairs of eyes that kept watching you from the table you had just left.

You went about your shower routine like you always did; get undressed, wash hair, wash body, turn off the water in-between washes, get dried and get dressed again. Sharing the water with so many people could be hard, so you couldn’t really take the long, thoughtful showers you did when at home.

You were out again as quickly as you had gotten in and took your time getting lotioned and dressed, getting as much self-care into your night as you possibly could when at a military base.

“What are you doing with the new kid?”

You should’ve been significantly more aware of your surroundings as a soldier but in your defense, everyone dropped their guard to some extent when in a safe environment, so the scream that came out of your mouth at the sudden sound of a voice was completely justified.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore as you jumped around, hastily reaching for your damp towel to cover your bare chest.

Coming face to face with a furious-looking Will, you glared. “Knock much?”

He didn’t look amused in the slightest, crossing his arms over his chest. “Knock, knock. Answer my question.”

Your mouth snapped shut at the dominance behind his voice and your eyes instinctively flickered to his biceps, veins and muscle more defined than ever in the way he had positioned his arms.

You were, however, proud to say that you were quick to come back to your senses, your eyes snapping back to meet his.

“Do you, maybe, oh, I don’t know, want to turn around?” You asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.

If you wanted him to turn around to gain privacy for yourself or simply because you couldn’t stop glancing at his bulging biceps, you didn’t know, but no matter the reason behind your wish, he didn’t move an inch.

“Answer the question.” Was all that he said, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m just having a bit of fun.”

“Do you like him?” His questions kept shooting out as quickly as bullets and, again, you couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes.

“He’s fun to be around.” You said simply, giving him a slightly annoyed glare before turning around and dropping the towel to continue getting dressed.

Will didn’t even try to cover the fact that he was checking you out, eyes shamelessly traveling your form and taking his sweet time to remember all the details his eyes could reach. 

It wasn’t like this was the first time one of you saw the other only partly clothed – you know, it was kind of inevitable for all of you to catch a glimpse of each other’s birthday suits once every blue moon - so once the shock of his sudden appearance had melted off, the nervousness followed.

“But do you like-like him?”

At the sound of that question in particular, you couldn’t help but snort.

“What is this? Third grade?” You threw him an amused look over your shoulder. “Say that I do like-like him, do you think I should ask Epps if he can give him a note asking him to check yes or no on whether or not he’d like to be my boyfriend?” You gave him a sarcastic pout.

At this point, Will was completely fed up with your inability to take anything seriously and spun you around by your arm. 

Luckily, you had just finished hooking your bra behind your back, said bra thankfully covering your chest from his view.

“Can you not make a joke about everything?” He asked, your wrist firmly held in his hand. “You have to realize how bad this looks to our superiors. First me, and now him. You can’t go around flirting with everyone. It makes you look unprofessional and uncommitted and that, in turn, makes it look like I can’t do my job.”  

“Is that really what’s got your big-soldier-boy panties in a twist, though?” You narrowed your eyes challengingly, and slowly fought your wrist out of his grip to, instead, grab a hold of his hand.

Further proving your point, he did nothing to protest, the glare remaining in his eyes, but the rest of his face being overtaken by exasperation.

“I just don’t get it.” He said. “You spend all this time pushing my buttons, being completely insufferable with your never-ending flirting, and now you’re suddenly interested in someone else?”

“I think the real question here is why you’re suddenly interested when I’ve spent so much time trying to get your attention to no avail and now, what? You suddenly want me because I might be interested in someone else?” You raised an eyebrow, and couldn’t deny the flash of heat going through your body when he lowly growled.

“I’ve never not wanted you.” He objected. “And you’re not interested in the rookie.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I know you.”

“So what you’re saying is, basically, that you can’t be with me, but I also can’t be interested in anyone else.”

“We both know that relationships in this work are highly frowned upon and-“

“Highly frowned upon, but not forbidden. You’ve still had the option to choose, and you actively chose not to act on it. Just making that clear.”

“I haven’t acted on it because it’s wrong.”

“If it’s so wrong…” You started, a sharp shiver going down your spine as your bare back hit the cold, wet tiles. “Then why did you just corner me in the shower?”

During that short minute of back-and-forth arguing, he had done just that, the two of you now standing chest against chest in the darkest corner of the room.

Your face was pulled into a determined glare, as was his, and the tension and intensity behind your shared stare was enough to have all of the previously discussed issues forgotten in less than a microsecond.  

The proximity between you in combination with the fact that you were at an obvious disadvantage in height and size made you feel both hot and cold at the same time. You felt like prey under his stare. You found yourself liking it all the while you were hating the feeling of being so powerless, and your inner conflict only added to the tension.

“You have no idea how much willpower it’s taken me to keep resisting you, to keep turning you down.” He spoke slowly, and lowly. “Each of my thoughts about you are improper and you put all of those thoughts into my head every day, pulling my strings, pushing my buttons, just walking around being… you.”

In one smooth motion, he intertwined his fingers with yours, and your eyes automatically flickered down to watch your now joined-together digits; rough and calloused meeting even rougher and more calloused.

“I like you. I care about you. More than I should.” He continued, prompting you to look back up with an eyebrow raised.

“And?” 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, exasperated and impatient. “Do you want me to say that I want to be with you? Because I do. I. Want. To. Be. With. You.”

You snickered at his over-dramatic emphasizing, finding it nothing short of amusing that he’d been protesting and telling you how wrong it was only seconds before, and now he was more or less proclaiming his love for you. That, more than anything, just showed how stubborn he was.

“Took you long enough.” You mused, leaning your head back into the wall and smirking, all while looking him straight in the eye. “It’s just too bad that I’ve grown so fond of the rookie. You know, he’s quite-“

Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by Will’s lips crashing into yours, roughly and urgently. In the process, you were pushed even further into the wall behind you, and as the sudden force threw you off balance, you instinctively reacted by moving your arms up to his neck to hold yourself in place.

In return, his hands moved to each side of your waist, big, warm hands squeezing down on the flesh that had long ago turned cold from being bare in the nippy air for so long.

You had always imagined what it would feel like to be touched by him like this, but not even your wildest imagination could compare to the intensity of the tingles that spread through your stomach and chest.

Your hands slowly sneaked up the back of his neck, your body reacting automatically, but just as you were about to tousle your fingers in his hair, the moment ended when he pulled away.

Both of you were left panting in silence, the only sounds available for your ears to hear being your ragged breaths and the rhythmic dripping of the shower beside you.

“Wow, Captain.” You were the first one to speak. “I knew you were hot for me, but try to keep it in your pants. That was hardly professional.”

Just like that, your sarcastic persona returned as if it had never left in the first place, your eyes opening after having been closed up until then and meeting his with a playful grin.

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’m pretty sure you threw professional straight out the window the first time we met.” He pointed out and much to your dismay, stepped back. “Are you going to stop encouraging the rookie, now?”

Getting straight to the point, okay.

“I don’t know…” You shrugged casually, bringing your hand up to your face to inspect your nails and peeking up at him through your lashes with a devilish smirk. “Jealousy looks kinda good on you.”

“I’m not jealous!” He exclaimed quickly, and you immediately raised an eyebrow as a way to say ‘really?’

“I’m not jealous.” He repeated, this time in a lower, calmer tone. “It’s just, you’re mine.”

Those two words alone were enough to make you inwardly groan, like one would when eating that first scoop of ice cream after not having been able to eat any in a week. Or a day.

But in a brave attempt to not make a fool of yourself, you remained in your teasing element, raising your eyebrows and hitting him back with a feign-uncaring: “Is that so?”

To that, he stepped closer to you once again, brought his hands up to cradle your cheeks, and playfully glared.

“Stop flirting with the rookie.” He repeated.

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“I’m asking politely.” He lied.

“Hmmm….” You hummed, pretending to think only for a moment, before flashing him a shit-eating grin. “No. I’m having way too much fun watching you squirm.”

Still leaning against the wall, you carefully pushed yourself up, pushed your chest against his and watched in success as his eyes flickered down.

Taking your sweet time, you brought your hands up to his chest with agonizingly slow movements and leaned your head up to his.

His breath shook as you brushed your lips over his and whispered against them lowly. 

“You’re hot when you’re mad.”

Will pushed his head forward with obvious intentions, but before he could press his lips against yours, you slid out of the tight corner, resulting in him having to catch himself on the wall left behind.

With a proud smile, you walked over to the bench by which you had previously been working on getting dressed and snatched your shirt where it laid.

“You’ll drive me crazy before all this is over, you know that?” Will spoke from behind you, which only made your smile widen.

Quickly pulling on your shirt and collecting the rest of your things, you turned around and walked back up to him where he still stood in the shower.

“That’s always been the plan.” You replied simply, placing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth before once again turning around and walking away, this time leaving him completely alone in the room.

He had to take a few moments to collect himself and regain his composure, and by the time he walked back out, you were nowhere in sight. 

With only you on his mind, he headed back to the table where the rest of the team were still playing cards, and sat down in the chair he had occupied before leaving.

“So, now that it’s just us here, I could use some advice on-“ The rookie wasted no time, but didn’t get to finish.

“You couldn’t handle her even if she came with instructions, kid.” Will interrupted without even looking at him, reading his mind without struggle since the person of his interest was one they had in common.

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To some, this was an admirable quality while, to others, you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

When it came to Will? Well, he just had nothing bad to say about you. You might’ve gotten on his nerves ninety-nine percent of the time, and been completely and utterly insufferable, but God did he love it.

Taglist: let me know if you want to be tagged in any future Will Lennox fics!

#will lennox #will lennox x reader #will lennox imagine #lennox #lennox x reader #lennox imagine #captain lennox #captain lennox x reader #captain lennox imagine #transformers #transformers imagine #transformers x reader #william lennox #william lennox x reader #william lennox imagine #josh duhamel #josh duhamel x reader #sam witwicky #optimus prime #ironhide #bumblebee

[breathings-of-the-heart]

Stuck on You (Levi Ackerman x Childhood Friend! Reader)

A/N: Hi, guys! I just want to preface by saying that this is a TWO (maybe a three if i decide to write an epilogue drabble) PART SERIES, and I have just a few more scenes to write before I can post it! I don’t expect this one to do so well, to be honest, but it’s been so long since I’ve written anything I’m proud of and I think I’m happy with how this turned out. So yes, stay tuned for part 2 which i will link at the end once it is posted. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, season one/no regrets ova spoilers

Word Count: 3.5k 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 years ago

“Why is it that you always seem to be on my case the most?” Your frustration was obvious and your patience dissipated, feet shuffling in their spot as you finally turned to face him. “You never nag Isabel this much.”

For a moment, Levi didn’t respond, scanning your body for injuries. After asserting that you were indeed okay, he stepped over the unconscious man who laid on the ground, jaw set in anger as he walked forwards until he was so close you had to tilt your head slightly to keep eye contact.

Your snappy behavior was uncharacteristic. It only fueled his temper. The raven shook his head in disapproval, trying to keep his anger in check as you glared at him defiantly.

“Isabel doesn’t make such careless mistakes,” he pointed out coldly. “You almost got yourself hurt, (Y/N)! What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up to cover your ass?”

The both of you stood there in silence for several minutes, gazing at each other and listening to your uneven breathing. His face, unlike so many others, never really did reveal everything he was thinking. Feeling. You were dared to search for something else in his steady gaze besides disappointment, but for once, you could not tell what you saw. It was infuriating, humiliating, and hurtful.

“Sometimes I wonder if there’s even a brain inside your thick fucking skull.”

His harsh words didn’t normally cut you, but this time you flinched, looking away from Levi as all the fight drained out of you.


Wearing your jewelry out at night was a careless mistake, that you could admit. What was hard to swallow was the fact that you had just been mugged, and nearly assaulted, yet all Levi could do was find the time to scold you, not seeming to care at all if you were shaken up by what happened.  

It didn’t scare you that the other man’s hands found their way onto your skin. It didn’t scare you that something bad could have happened had Levi not knocked him out. You weren’t afraid of any of it; you were afraid that all the raven-haired man could see you for were your mistakes.

“So you think I’m a burden then?” you asked, choking up.

Your change in tone caught Levi’s attention. You suddenly looked smaller, and more vulnerable than the last time he looked at you. He sighed again, shaking his head softly. It took all your strength not to shy away from his fingers as they threaded through your hair, stopping on your shoulder and tugging you against him. You let Levi do it nonetheless, knowing this was his way of saying sorry; knowing this was his way of saying: “I’m tough on you because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”  

You pressed your ear against his beating heart, letting the sound soothe you.

“No, brat. I don’t think that. Let’s just go home, and forget about it,” his voice was more gentle this time.

You sniffled and nodded, chest bursting as Levi placed a feather light kiss on the top of your head. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never thought you’d miss the Underground. Especially when taking into consideration the miserable days after Levi, Isabel, and Farlan took that fateful deal, and were forced to leave you behind.  

Your feelings on the matter were conflicted, of course, but you were relieved and happy that the people who mattered most had such a big opportunity. They didn’t need to see you crying, nor hear about how scared you were to be by yourself. Each one deserved better than that, so you put on a brave face as they reassured you over and over that they’d come back. You beamed as brightly as you could, sending them off with words of encouragement as you continued fighting off the lingering feeling of dread as they left. 

You didn’t want to be a nuisance. Never wanted to be the reason they’d hold themselves back. 

Although he didn’t show it, Levi took it the hardest. He implored you to stay alive, in a scolding tone that he only ever used when he was worried. You could hold your own, but weren’t a fighter like the other three. The stern male had only ever been thankful of your gentle nature in the past, surprised to be cursing it now that he couldn’t protect you. But for him, you’d try your hardest, knowing that with a little faith and patience, you could be reunited in the future. 

The goodbye had been bittersweet, your lips slotting against his for the very first time. In a way, the way he kissed you seemed more like a promise than a farewell. His arms were wrapped around you all night, warmth lulling you to a sleep that otherwise, would never have been able to claim you. 

Parting afterwards the following morning became all the more difficult because of it.  

When Levi pulled a few strings with his newfound respected status and got the military to sponsor your citizenship, you were over the moon. Becoming a soldier was the last thing you expected out of your life, but wherever Levi and the others went, you would gladly follow. You felt at home again, throwing your arms around the man for the first time in months and giggling at the fact that while he accepted the gesture and patted your head awkwardly, his lack of affection never changed. 

But you were quickly learning that the ideological existence that lived right above your head was just an illusion. You came only to find your friends dead, and Levi more closed off to you than he’d ever been before. Up here, things were far from perfect, and as time went on, you instead yearned for the past if only to appreciate it better a second time around. And although things slowly got better, life was not yet finished throwing its hardships your way. 

The last person you had left slowly became out of reach, as time apart inevitably distanced the two of you and gave someone else the opportunity to fill that hole in his heart. 


Reality, you found, was much crueler under the blue of the sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t have to deny it, Levi. I know you better than anyone. I see the way you look at her,” you whispered, wringing your hands together in a feeble attempt to rid of the painful churn in your stomach. “I see it because you used to look at me that way.” 


It was admirable, at least, the effort you put in to keep your voice even. But the silence that followed those broken words was pitiful. The silence made it even more difficult to meet the gaze of the man in front of you. Levi had every opportunity to deny the truth of your burning statement; to bring you back into his arms and reaffirm his love like he used to. Like he would if maybe things were different. 

You knew, he had no desire to do that now. Instead, the Captain’s eyes screwed shut and a light sigh escaped his perfect lips, the warmth of it tingling your skin. It was nostalgic, almost, being alone with Levi like this. His face was nearer to yours then it had been in months, enough so that you could make out every tiny detail. The irony of it seemed mocking: for once, you couldn’t bear to look at him. Not that you needed to, with every feature of his sure to forever haunt your memory. 

But now all you could see were the interactions they had. Your vision consisted of watching as their bond and understanding grew. It was created in such a short amount of time, but hardly unpredictable with the amount of time Levi and Petra spent together. Even if Levi himself had not realized it, for you, it was plain as day. You knew him better than anyone. Could see that there was no pain in Levi’s eyes when he looked at her. Afterall, unlike you, Petra wasn’t a painful reminder of the past.   

Despite his physical closeness, this was the most detached you’ve ever felt from the male. The space between you was strange and unfamiliar. Lonely and cold.

At your words, he exhaled through his nostrils. 


“I would never be unfaithful, (Y/N). I never have been,” he spoke firmly, in that certain tone of speaking only he could manage. “I promised I would never leave you.” 

A tear spilled down your cheek, despite your best brave face. It was too much to handle, even for a calloused girl like you. Because despite everything, Levi had always been there. It seemed scary to have life any other way. 

Said man took your hand gently, handling it like porcelain. It wasn’t until his skin touched yours that you realized your fingers were shaking, and your facade was crumbling. His gesture was another reminder of what once was. The familiarity of his skin a testament to all the time spent simply existing with one another.

How did it come to this?

“A lot has changed since then, it seems,” you laughed softly, for once pulling away from his touch. “I bet you can’t even look at me without thinking about those two, huh?” 

You never once thought it was his fault. Even if you told him that, you knew Levi would always take accountability. Knew he would blame himself for taking Isabel and Farlan away from you. You should have seen this coming. It was inevitable that your love would be tainted, and that he’d find it somewhere else, even if it was unintentional. 

“(Y/N), wait—“ there was a small panic that awoke in the raven’s steely eyes that only those who truly knew him would be able to detect. 


“—You know how I feel about you, don't you? I want to be the one who you'd wake up next to every morning. The person you'd trust enough to spill all your secrets to, the one you want to hold close, the one who would make it hurt too much to ever let go. I want to be the person who can make you smile, or laugh until you can't breathe. Your first and last thought of the day, and the one you wonder about even when they’re not around.” 

You swallowed a whimper, fists clenched at your sides as your restraint came undone. It was all you’d ever wanted since you were small and starving and Levi was all you had to hold onto.

"But more than anything I want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

And because that’s how much I love you.

“I’d spent the rest of my life with you, if you asked me to,” the stoic Captain stated, as simply and mindlessly as if reciting the weather. 

You knew it was true. You also knew better than to let your mind wander to that fantasy, or to let a world come into fruition in which you stopped Levi from pursuing his happiness; held back simply because his loyalty knew no bounds. You refused to be that selfish. You’d rather die a miserable death, a thousand times over. Rather endure this anguish for as long as it resided in your heart then watch his indifference turn to hatred as years of a one-sided relationship droned on and on.

He doesn’t want you anymore. 

“I know, Levi.” You paused for a long moment. “Petra's wonderful. I don't hate either of you, I want you to remember that." 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying desperately to forget the feeling of Levi’s lips on your skin, your face against his chest. The warmth between your ribs or the butterflies in your stomach, or the fireworks of passion that only he could make you feel. Tried to forget the rare but special, secret words of affirmation only your ears got to hear, and the goosebumps they’d send across your skin. 

You wanted to erase it all, if only to make it easier to walk away with the knowledge you’d never feel any of that again.  

It was pathetic. 

There wasn’t anything left to be said. So with the task near impossible, looked at your lover, your best friend, your rock, your Levi, and turned away.

You only managed three steps before a voice followed you and a hand closed around your wrist.

“Is this what you want?” He sounded apathetic, but you knew better. His underlying worry only made the pain feel worse. 

“I don’t know.” At the very least, you were honest.  

"Will I see you again?"  

As adaptable as he was, Levi was never a fan of the unconventionality that was “change.” He was never surprised, quick to go with the flow, even if he preferred certainty and steadiness. 

This conversation, though, was one he never expected. 

"Of course," you forced a tiny smile, knowing it was more convincing than it felt. "I just need a breather. I'll be back for dinner." The words tasted bitter in your mouth. 

That was the first and only lie you'd ever tell Levi Ackerman, having handed in your resignation papers to Erwin just yesterday.

Forgive me, Levi. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snow fluttered down from the sky, coating the local shops and roofs of buildings with a thick, white blanket. Merchants and store owners alike grumbled their disapproval, bustling to sweep the front of their shops. The air was crisp and biting, yet you relished in the feeling and absorbed the atmosphere. Drunk garrison soldiers loitered around merrily, cheeks flushed from alcohol, catching the flakes in their hair and occasionally slipping on hidden ice in their drunken stupor. It made you chuckle softly, the residences of Wall Roses’ inconvenience the source of your contentment-- this was your first time seeing snow, the real thing a thousand times better than anything you read about in any book. 

You strolled through the marketplace, a basket holding bread, dried meats, cheese, and several fruits resting in the crook of your elbow. Your coin purse felt lighter than it had that morning, yet you carried on nonetheless, curious as to what Wall Rose had to offer. Children ran past you, throwing snowballs at each other and nearly running into you because of their haste. The sight made you grin as one of them bumped into one of the street market’s booths, knocking over a few items as he went. 

The woman behind the counter chastised them, her shouts growing louder when they barely spared her a glance and blended into the crowd of shoppers. Nick nacks and books were left scattered in their wake, askew on the cobblestone ground.

“Need help, ma’am?,” you asked her, picking up the objects from the ground. 

“Thank you, dearie,” she sighed gratefully, taking them from your hands. “Kids these days, so reckless and always in such a hurry.” 

You laughed airily, mirth swimming in your eyes. 

“You’re just lucky they didn’t steal anything,” you joked, reminiscing about your own thieving past. Your attention turned towards the noting the soldiers now dozing off on top of their card table nearby, tutting their behavior lightheartedly. “Levi, if only the police were like that back when we--” 

Out of habit, you turned around to meet his gaze, heart clenching when you remembered he wasn’t there. Your fists clenched to prevent you from smacking yourself at your carelessness. He’s not here, dumbass. 

“What was that, hun?” the woman behind the counter inquired, preoccupied in sorting her things. 

You put on your best smile, shaking your head before your thoughts could fill with images of a certain raven-haired, steele-eyed, heart-stopping male. The back of your eyes stung, the momentary joy of your first real winter quickly fading away.  

“Nothing important.” 

This is for the best, (Y/N). You’ve only ever gotten in the way, his whole life. Let the man be. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a few years since that last encounter with him. Part of you still wondered if Levi tried looking for you after realizing your true intentions of never coming back. You hoped he didn't, imagining instead that he'd made the most of the opportunity you'd given him. Prayed that it wasn't all for naught and he instead pursued what (or who) truly made him happy, instead of worrying about other people. In truth, you became content with life, learning to look back on memories fondly and being thankful for their existence. 

Residing above ground was enough reason to be grateful in itself, and you did your best to make the most of it. Your days were now spent in ways that paid tribute to your humble beginnings: individuals from the underground who managed to secure citizenship to the surface were put into your care. You helped men, women, and children alike assimilate into living on the surface, which included introducing the area, and assisting in finding housing and jobs. It was rewarding work, but more than anything, reminiscent to be able to see the wonder when their eyes meet the clouds for the very first time. The flickers of hope from your clients were things you carried with you every day. Your chosen profession left plenty of free time, however, as it was relatively rare for individuals to pay the hefty toll of climbing up those stairs. 

Your life was average, and for the most part, uneventful. The quietness that accompanied mediocrity proved to be comforting, however. It was a far cry from the days of constantly looking over your shoulder and needing to carry a knife in your boot, just in case.

At first, it was difficult not to cry at the thought of the stoic, raven-haired Ackerman. The heartache weighed down in your chest for a good amount of time. The simplest things reminded you of Levi, but after a while, instances where he’d cross your mind became fewer and further between. With a nicer home than anything you previously owned, a livable income, and an overall peaceful existence, you didn’t have any regrets. 

At least, that was what you told yourself until you heard the news. 

On off days you worked as a waitress at one of the many taverns within Wall Rose. Large tips were one of the many perks that drew you in originally. The chatter of the customers and frequent bar-goers was a welcome ambience, and an opportunity for you to combat the occasional feeling of loneliness. 

Occasionally, Scout Regiment gossip would filter through, especially about Humanity’s Strongest and the new titan shifter Eren Jeager. Updates were nice, knowing Levi was safe and thriving in what he did best. But as you placed a pint of beer on one of the tables and overheard a heavy set man babble loudly to his comrade, dread splashed over you in waves.

“The Captain was the only survivor in his squad. He wasn’t even with them when it happened, poor guy. He must feel terribly guilty.”     

Your vision became hazy as you tried not to panic; of all the rumours that filtered through the drunk mouths of customers, you had never heard bad news like this before. The last you’d heard, human kind was given a beacon of hope, and things were looking up after Eren Jaeger managed to plug up the hole in Trost. 

“Excuse me, but which squad did you say this happened to?” you heard your voice say. 


Across the table, the other man took a swig of his drink, and grunted indignantly. 

“Levi Squad, the best in the military I heard. A shame, but I suppose even the top in the Survey Corps are still just suicidal maniacs when it comes down to it.” 

No, no, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen!  

After that, everything became white noise. You could only register every third movement, heart thundering in your ears. The tray you’d been holding to carry the drinks clattered as it fell to the ground, causing a few gasps and strange looks to be thrown in your direction. In your horrified state, dread weighed down like lead in your body. You rushed to the back room, tears clouding your vision as you tried not to stumble. 

You gripped the edges of the washroom sink, dizzy with this newfound information.   

Levi has now lost more people that he loved, and was probably experiencing the same survivor’s guilt as he did with Isabel and Farlan. He was most likely suffering alone right now, never having been one to let people see his vulnerability so easily.

You did not witness first hand what your friends’ deaths meant to him. When the Captain waited for you at the top of the staircase, his expression never seemed out of the ordinary. Levi was kind enough to let you enjoy your first few days up with him simply enjoying the newfound freedom. He made the excuse that your two other comrades were out on business somewhere, and would be back to see you soon. Maybe, at the time, your excitement blinded you from the deeper emotions hidden in his voice. 

When you found out the truth, their passing broke you. The fact that Levi shouldered any blame, however, is what twisted the knife. He had been grieving by himself; feeling that pain without anyone to comfort him. He had to put on a brave face just to see you; secretly spending that last month alone, probably relaying over and over how he would break the news to you. 

Your remorse increased tenfold when it was him who held you, and him who put you back together, just like he had to for himself. And now he was by himself all over again.

I have to do something. 

Splashing water on your face, you straightened up and looked in the mirror, a sudden surge of guilt coursing through your veins.

You refused to let Levi be alone this time around, no matter how he might feel about you now.

~~~~~~~

Part Two!

#snk levi #levi #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman gif #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #AoT #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk fic #aot fic #levi x reader