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slocumjoe · 1 year

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A ramble about Preston Garvey and a self-indulgent revision of the entire Minuteman questline

TDLR: The Minutemen faction sacrifices writing and Preston’s character as a means of shoveling errands and busywork at the player.

Preston’s issues as a character are entirely Doylist, meaning the fault of outside forces. His writing, his concept, his themes, those are solid. This is not a racehorse that broke its leg and was still sent down the track, like some characters. This is a horse that was hale and hearty, but they made it run in circles around cars in the parking lot instead of putting it in the race.

This essay is not going to be my most coherent one. Preston’s issues are so apparent, so in your face, it kinda feels like a waste of time explaining it. Just look at him and anyone with two braincells to rub together can see. But a lot of things in Fallout 4 sticks with me, even when I’m not in a Fallout 4 mood. Preston is one of those things. So neglected, so misused in the game, I couldn’t stop thinking about the bastard.

Before we get into what Preston is, in-game...what was he meant to be?

And you know what?

He’s close to Danse, post Blind Betrayal.

Preston Garvey started his military career as a fresh-faced, bright-eyed young man, who wanted to be another gun protecting the Commonwealth against whatever would harm it. He always had his faction’s best interests and ideals in mind. The first to wave the flag, the first to say the motto, the first to pick up a gun for it. He didn’t want heroism, or glory. He wanted to make the world a better place. It sounds cookie cutter, cliche, so sugary-saccharine. But this is the wasteland. This is in a world where everyone else seems content to succumb to futilism, to pretend there is no Better for the world.

Preston Garvey is, inherently, part of a rebel army. The Minutemen were a militia, a guerilla army of farmers and their children, banding together against the oppressive totality of raiders, mercenaries, anyone who would rather gnaw on bones than build to ensure everyone was taken care of. The Minutemen are the fuck you, we want to recover and heal faction, to the raiders’ fuck you, I have a right to wallow in the ruins.

The legend herself, the icon, the Queen, Ursula K. LeGuin once said; “The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist; a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.” The MInutemen might look like your average, boring heroes (we’ll get into why), but it is inherently badass to look at the literal End of the World and decide, no, actually, we don’t want to lie down and die.

Preston Garvey is not a boy scout, the Minutemen are not mall cops. They are furious, determined, and most dangerously, optimistic.

A young Preston Garvey joined under a blue banner, served under it for years...and watched as people who saw money, power, glory, took that banner and tied it into a noose.

Joe Becker died, and having not chosen someone to take over as General, all of the colonels squabbled for the position, wanting the fame, the cushy office. These people weren’t Minutemen, not at heart. The faction had grown so large, there was bound to be people looking only at the resources, what was in it for them. Preston, still a young man, but quickly losing his naivety and faith in his fellow Minutemen, watched as these colonels dropped their altruistic acts and demanded they get theirs.

And then Quincy happened.

The Minutemen were in disarray, following the Mirelurk invasion of the Castle, lacking a home base and their radio communications. But Colonel Ezra Hollis, potentially the last Colonel who gave a shit, heard that Quincy was under siege by Gunner forces, and he led his small, out-gunned squad to do whatever the fuck they could, until another Colonel came to provide the needed fire support. Hollis’ Minutemen succeeded in driving the Gunners back, and holding them off, but their help from Colonel Marbury never came. Preston watched as his Colonel refused to give up and let Quincy fall...and he watched as Clint, a ten-year veteran, betrayed everyone, chose money and a winning team over what was right.

Quincy fell. Preston Garvey watched as the refugees fell in a line, running for safety. Watched his comrades, who he had been fighting against impossible odds with for days, dropped with them.

Preston Garvey died, and I can tell you where. At one house, to the right, down the street from the museum, where the last other Minuteman lay dead in a yard. Where he became the Last Minuteman. Even if there were others who would call themselves such...they weren’t Minuteman, not really. The real Minutemen tried to save Quincy. Everyone else, who gave up, never believed at all.

Preston was still fucking furious at the hedonistic cruelty people indulged in and called inevitable. But he was alone, a failure, and had lost any reason to believe that there was a possibility of continuing. A point, a reason, yes. But the optimism...without that, there was no Minuteman army.

Preston is Danse Post BB, because he’s freshly disillusioned from his faction, horrified at the truth and betrayal. He has lost his identity, his values, unsure of where to go, if there’s anywhere to go. And then...salvation walks down the street of Concord, and walks him and his group back up the road to Sanctuary. Sanctuary.

And then comes in the fucking dialogue system (FDS) and the fucking radiant system (FRS), armed with folding chairs, to beat Preston Garvey’s rich character into a bloody, twitching pulp. We cannot talk about Preston without talking about how his faction questline plays. We simply have to, because it’s like a shotgun wedding from hell.

Let’s start with the very first quest in the Minutemen. Preston, while running for his fucking life from gunners, then ferals, then raiders, has somehow heard through the grapevine/radio he doesn’t have that Tenpines has a Corvega raiders issue. He asks you to do it because he’s busy guarding Sanctuary. Okay.

You go to Tenpines, Corvega, and back, and whoop, you are now Minuteman general.

You START THE MINUTEMEN as THE LEADER. Even fucking MAXSON waits for you to at least bump Danse off before making you a Paladin, but nope! Starting at the top, ending at the top. This kills progression in all senses. There is no sense of gaining ground, the Minutemen start with a General. Skyrim gets mocked for making you the leader of all factions, but good god, at least you had to earn it by sticking with them.

So, bad start.

Then you do some settlement stuff...which is handed to you in the worst fucking way. The FRS.

Where is Preston getting this information? How are people sending it out? Ignoring the logistics...it’s just boring. You talk to Preston sometimes, and he always says Go Here, Do This, Come back. Do this enough times, Preston wants to retake the Castle. At this point, you don’t have any men, it’s just you and Preston- wait, who the fuck are these people?! We’ve had soldiers this whole time?! Who hired them?! You take the Castle and it’s admittedly cool, if not a pain to restore for all your- okay, wait, I can only bring settlers? Where are all the men I supposedly have, there’s three soldiers here! Three soldiers, this is just a Clearing the Way radiant quest, but the moving in folks helped me kill the mirelurks!

Ugh, fine. You keep traveling, Preston gives you more- Preston?! I killed a Mirelurk Queen specifically for the radio tower, so I could get quests from the radio! Why is Preston still dispensing quests? It discourages you from talking to him, because you’ll get busywork cluttering your quest log. You can’t talk to Preston Garvey. You can’t fucking talk to him without doing him a favor first.

Y’know what makes this even more abominable? You are said to have soldiers, who could be doing this instead! Why am I going after kidnapped settlers when we have soldiers?! The General still has a kid to find and the Institute to explode! SPEAKING OF...

The Commonwealth Provisional Government was started by the Minutemen, and ended by the Institute. This is never brought up again. And it’s not even Preston who talks about it, it’s Nick. The Minutemen have very real reason to want the Institute gone, and a good excuse to get the player to want to destroy the Institute beyond “grrr synths/they took my baby.”

Anyway, you go get artillery from Ronnie Shaw at some point, build it in your settlements, and...make your farmers man them. Not soldiers. I know you can deck out your settlers with armor and weapons, but the fact that you have maybe 5 constant, non-random encounter soldiers, all at the Castle, is...it makes it feel hollow. Where is my army, Preston? Who am I leading?

So, you do the Main Quest, blow up the Institute. Blah blah. Blow up the Brotherhood, too. Blaaaaah.

Either way, let’s get into fixes. And by fixes, I mean, complete rehaul.

First thing’s first. The entire questline is bad. It’s radiant quests and then boom boom Institute. It starts and ends the exact same way, you being the general. Second thing, we need to go back to the old dialogue system; no more YES, NO, WHAT, SARCASTIC. Actual dialogue. Back to Fallout New Vegas’s system, that relied on all stats and perks. Actual conversations with branching paths.

Saving Preston at Concord is fine. Works. It’s the first radiant quest that sucks ass. Throw that system out entirely, and I do mean entirely. Don’t save it for anything, it needs to go. It cannot remain. No being sent to Tenpines because Preston heard from a little birdie.

Instead, you work with Preston and the survivors to fortify and set up Sanctuary.

First, you work with Preston to shore up Sanctuary’s defenses. As you work with him, he’s polite, but curt. Professional, but not warm, open. He expresses gratitude, but definitely not trust. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know what your motives or wants are. You can tell him about Shaun, but he’s still not sure about you. He can’t afford to be and will tell you that outright, but...he needs someone to go see if anyone survived Lexington or Concord. He knows his other Minutemen split up with other survivors, he doesn’t know if they made it out. You can offer to go find them, or stay and protect Sanctuary. If you go, the other survivors will set up Sanctuary on their own without your help.

If you stay and Preston leaves, you plant crops with Marcy, getting to know her and potentially, she cracks and shows some vulnerability. She doesn’t soften right away, she’s still traumatized, but you get to see why she’s the way she is now. She just lost her baby, her home, all of her friends and family. Was just failed by the people who swore they’d protect them all. Betrayed by them.

Then, you work with Sturges to get a water pump/purifier running. Sturges will tell you about Quincy in some detail, explain how it went to shit. He talks about how the Minutemen were needed more than ever, but crapped the bed at the last minute. Sturges says he thinks there’s a place in the world for the group, but with the last living soldier clearly reeling from everything that’s happened, he thinks it’s safe to say the Commonwealth is on it’s own.

Next, it’s the bed situation with Jun. He barely says a word, only quietly thanking you for your help. If you choose the right dialogue options, he’ll say you remind him of Colonel Hollis, very brave and kind, even when it was a bad idea to help. Hollis didn’t survive, but you did. Maybe it’s not all bad, maybe Hollis wasn’t wrong, just of bad luck.

After, no matter who goes to find the bodies of the other Minutemen and Quincy locals, some Corvega raiders attack Sanctuary when they come back. It’s only a small scouting party, looking for Mama Murphy. You kill them, and Preston is freaking out and about to pack up and keep everyone moving farther. It’s up to you to calm him down and offer to go kill them. If you’ve picked certain dialogue choices before and Sanctuary has a high defense score, Preston will join you on the trip to Corvega. It’s on this journey + throughout it you can tell him about the fate of his comrades, or he tells you. If he doesn’t accompany you, you two talk about it when you get back to Sanctuary after killing Jared.

Either way, It’s here that Mama Murphy tells you about Diamond City, not in the museum.

You do the main quest now, and when you get to Diamond City, you overhear people talking about the Quincy massacre, and what a shame that the Minutemen are gone. Someone talks about how McDonough forced all the ghouls out, and they moved up to the Slog, but now the Slog is having mutant troubles. From there, you can go decide for yourself if you want to do the Minuteman questline. The first few quests were just to organically show you the settlement system, dialogue system (the old, good one), and dungeon crawling, the explore-loot-return loop. It’s here that the Minutemen branch off from the main quest.

If you choose to save the Slog, you have the option of saying you’re there on Minuteman business, even if you’re not a Minuteman. Choosing this is what gets you in the faction proper.

You can keep finding settlements and offering help. Doing this, Preston eventually catches word through Diamond City Radio and demands to know what the fuck you’re doing. You have a lot of options to choose from, but only the altruistic, optimistic ones will earn Preston’s trust. Anything else, he might just try to kill you, if you, like, say you’re doing it for money. But if you’re doing this for good reasons, he’s on board. Surprised, unsure this will end well, but...hey, if you want to try, he won’t stop you. If Sanctuary has enough settlers, defense, and you’ve turned enough settlers into guards (which have a different character tag, when assigned to defense posts), Preston will offer to accompany you, and that’s how you get him as a companion.

So, you and Preston wander around, doing quests, and helping out settlements. Help enough settlements, they’ll realize hey, we’re all on good terms with this Minuteman, and this person who’s basically a Minuteman...let’s just get the Minutemen back, yeah? People band together, settlements you’ve provided for will get settlers on their own. Eventually, people at settlements approach you and offer to help, what needs doing? If you have a settlement quest/errand, you can assign them to it, and they’ll complete it for you. This snow-balls until you’re taking over the Castle, for all these guns-for-hope to gather around and manage trade routes and work. You get the radio tower. You get an army. You get artillery, automatically built at every settlement in a designated spawnpoint.

It’s here that, by popular vote, you’re offered the position as General...but you can turn it down. You can hand it to Ronnie, or Preston. Both of of them agree, no, the people and the new Minutemen want you, but they’ll take it if you pass enough dialogue checks. Ronnie will run the Minutemen like a hardass, fierce and cynical to deter a second collapse, but Preston runs it like a community. He believes that cynicism was what killed the first Minutemen, and that constant reminder of who and what they do this for will keep motives pure. No matter the general, the Minutemen are now a solid force in the Commonwealth, stronger than ever, making everyone piss their pants. And it got this way because you wanted to help.

It’s at this point that Preston’s conversation about his depression unlocks, and his romance.

But the fun begins when the Gunners take a modicum of offense to all this.

Sanctuary is put to the sword, the Castle is attacked, and best of all, the old Colonels show their face, either on the side of the Gunners as bosses, or trying to weasel their way into the Minutemen again. Preston loves killing all of them, hates sparing or talking them down. These fuckers left him, Quincy, the Commonwealth to die, they are traitors, they are pure scum.

The Minutemen, they fight back. You take squads into Gunner camps and clear house, take it over. People stop working with or hiring the Gunners because they don’t want to piss off the General, whoever that is. The Gunners aren’t on the ropes yet, but they’re staring down Minutemen barrels and it’s only a matter of time before this explodes into someone getting wiped off the face of the earth.

Somewhere in-between looking for the Institute, you get kidnapped by Gunners and taken to Quincy. They’re using you as either a hostage, intending to kill you to prove a point, or torturing you for fun, taking the piss out of the idea that the puny militia could ever stand up to- hey, why am I hearing gunfire?

Preston and the Minutemen storm Quincy, putting it under a siege not even the Gunners could ever have hoped to accomplish. If the Minutemen were dog food, the Gunners are kitty treats. It’s a swift, brutal execution of every green-wearing bastard. They don’t even have time to prepare before Preston himself kicks the door down and frees you, then runs back out to continue bashing people’s heads in with his rifle. You meet up with Ronnie, and she points you down Preston’s warpath, gently asking if you can go stop before he gets himself killed trying to throttle Clint. As you chase him down, you see Clint up on the highway, looking down, before he walks away, presumably to meet Preston.

You can go find Preston, kill Clint before he gets to him, or go kill Baker first. If Preston gets to Clint, you’ll hear him screaming bloody murder before they start the fight. They’ll fight until you go finish Clint off. Once Clint drops, Preston has something of a nervous breakdown. Ronnie and other Minutemen show up, she takes over and tells you to finish clearing Quincy with the other soldiers while she gets Preston out of the fight. You can listen to her, or insist you stay with Preston. If you stay, you clear the way for Ronnie’s group to get back behind Minutemen lines just outside of Quincy. Baker can be killed by NPC Minutemen, so you don’t have to worry about it too much.

The Minutemen have Quincy again, Preston is recovering from his panic attack, and Ronnie is foaming at the mouth at the idea of going at Gunner HQ. You can agree or disagree. If you’ve been killing the Colonels, Preston will think that the Gunners are in such bad shape, it’s only a matter of time before they kill themselves with infighting, just as the Minutemen did. If you’ve spared the Colonels, he’ll want to finish off the Gunners, as they’re still too organized and armed to leave alive. If Ronnie is General, the Minutemen attack Gunner HQ anyway, no matter what, but if not, the player can influence Preston or make the decision themselves.

Laying siege to Gunner HQ cements the Minutemen’s place as the strongest army in the Commonwealth. With this ending for the Minutemen, non-important/notable raider hideouts will be cleared automatically, either because soldiers killed them, or the Minutemen were so oppressive, they couldn't find anyone to raid. Other factions will speak more carefully to you, be gentler when describing their intentions. Maxson and other BOS soldiers, if you join them, will mention that being so close to the Castle was unintentional, and they’re nervous about the Minutemen turning their artillery on the Airport. You’ll have a harder time getting the Brotherhood to go to war with Minutemen in this ending. Everyone in game will acknowledge what the Minutemen become, through your efforts.

If you let the Gunners dissolve, you’ll see Gunners having left for raider groups, groups of them killing each other, Gunners trying to get in with the Minutemen. Those Gunners, if you’re general, you can take them on, kill them, or turn them away. General Ronnie will kill them, General Preston’s choice depends on if you have been more merciful, or grudge-holding. People will comment on the Gunners wasting away into little more than scavengers, and with enough time, if you go to Gunner HQ, you find it empty and abandoned. People are less scared of the Minutemen this ending, as they didn’t obliterate the most dangerous local army in a show of total force and revenge. The Brotherhood is more likely to go to war with you, less intimidated, but the Railroad will offer their spy network if you agree to help them rehabilitate and save synths, provided you’ve spoken positively of synths.

Either ending, the Institute will try to destroy the Minutemen, as they destroyed the Commonwealth Provisional Government in the past. But now, the Minutemen have the firepower and intel to destroy the Institute, or take it over, if you so choose. Even if you don’t follow Shaun, if you choose to or convince General Ronnie/Preston to spare the Institute and use it for the Commonwealth’s benefit, you are left with it under your control, enforced by the Minutemen.

So. What does this revision do?

I dislike when people portray him as an innocent, gentle little sunshine boy, and not as an army vet who survived where none of his fellow soldiers could. This man has an edge to him. He isn’t a small sad puppy, he has something of a mean streak in canon. In this revision, Preston has opportunities to demonstrate layers of his character, showing how his trauma and guilt has effected him. You get to see it for yourself, rather than hear about it. You can see him break down in Quincy, you can see him resist the idea that strangers can have good intentions, you can see him rebuild his hope for the Minutemen and himself. And you can also see him lose patience for people who have wronged him, want to cut down anyone who would threaten his people, be kind of irrational and lashing out.

I also dislike that the Minutemen have no visible effect on the wasteland, nothing you can actually see. No one else sees it, either. Here, people will acknowledge the Minutemen’s power. And, c’mon, in game, you are the only one doing anything. In this rehaul, you get things started, but people will be active participants in restoring the Minutemen, will build settlements for you. You can go decorate and fiddle around, but you won’t have to worry about water, food, beds, and defense, they’ll get it sorted themselves. The busywork is also passed off to soldiers, who you could potentially catch in the action as they clear out mutants or save kidnapped settlers.

And the finale of facing off against the Gunners, and either destroying them, or brushing them off as a decaying tantrum with guns, gives the Minutemen something to do for themselves, beyond the Institute. You’d have to lock off Quincy and Gunner HQ, so the player can’t clear them without going through the questline, but that’s fine, other quests do that. But the Gunners are never brought up, not really. It also lets Preston confront his greatest trauma and come up victorious, even if it hurt, and when deciding on the fate of Gunner HQ, lets him evolve as a person and take influence from the player, depending on their relationship.

I think, as the de facto companion for his faction, Preston’s arc needs to be directly tied to it. The other companions don’t really have this either, but Preston got the short straw in that he was his faction. Everything came from him and was turned in to him. He became a dispenser for quests instead of one person in this group, with his own ideas about how to run it, his own fears and guilt about how it failed the first time. He doesn’t reflect the Minutemen, their ideals. Who they are as a collective.

Deacon, Danse, and X6 have their own massive writing issues, but it’s clear that they are representations of their factions. Deacon is an all-over-the-place trickster type trying to keep shit together, the Railroad is a clown car trying to smuggle slaves to safety. X6 is a cold, ruthless, logical Terminator, the Institute are cold, sterile, ends-justify-the-means scientists. Danse is a stern, no-nonsense soldier with a good heart under the Power Armor, the Brotherhood is a tight-knit brotherhood, an army with good intentions that often forgets who those good intentions are meant to serve.

Preston...he’s a good guy, a traumatized one. The Minutemen...you have 5 nameless “Minuteman Soldier” NPCs, and Ronnie. So...the Minutemen is Preston, Preston is the Minutemen. He isn’t allowed to be Preston, who is a Minuteman. He’s Preston the Minuteman.

That’s a damn shame.

#preston garvey

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

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I'm In Control Part 16 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Please forgive me if this comes out incoherent for I have yet to sleep. My anxiety and brain are all over the place. BUT... this chapter is based on a request I got for Good Neighbors but of course I couldn't use it there because this dynamic and their dynamic are completely different. I also included some personal things I am dealing with right now so (probably why I can't sleep lol)

I love you guys and I hope y'all are doing ok!

Warnings: The reader makes a request for the boys to be rougher to an extent they aren't really comfortable with. There is an incident where they try so some degradation, hair pulling, name calling (whore, stupid, slut), handcuffs are used, spanking, bruising. The safe word is used by the reader. The reader is dealing with some trauma in regards to her parents who are (as stated in past chapters) very religious. The boys talk with her about it as well as why she felt the need to use the safe word. I think that's everything.

Word Count: 4290

“No.” Steve folded his arms as he leaned back in his chair at their dining room table.

“What? Why? Isn’t this what you dominate types live for?”, you scowl.

“No. I live to make you cum not hurt you for gratification. That’s a whole different thing, honey. You and I both know that doesn’t get you off.”

“Don’t call me honey.”

“Hm. Someone is sassy today.” Eddie gets up and tosses his empty bowl in the sink before coming to lean against the counter beside you. “I know it’s been a while and a lot has changed since we’ve had this discussion but the rules are still the same. You don’t get to make demands.”

“But”, Steve continues. “We can take it under consideration if you explain why you want this.”

“I shouldn’t have to explain anything! I just want you guys to be rough with me. Fucking use me, degrade me, bruise me. I don’t fucking care!”

“Well, then you can go to your favorite dominatrix for that.”, he winks.

You growl under your breath as you jump off their counter and stomp out the front door.

“Somethings wrong.” Steve exhales as he comes up besides Eddie.

“You think? Whatever it is she seems to think this will make her feel better. I don’t think she fully knows what she’s asking for.”

“Of course, she doesn’t. But I guarantee you, if I know that brat, she’s going to push us until we show her.”

#################

The next few days your attitude didn’t get any better. You were extremely short with everyone and fuming any chance you could. The boys let it go, keeping note of your demeanor and tone. You continued to make your request and they continued to ignore it…until they couldn’t.

Steve barged into your office startling Avery who was talking with you.

“Out. Now.”

The boy didn’t need to be told twice. “I’ll, um, see you tonight, Y/N. You-you guys should come to.”, he stuttered. “We’re going to Fantasy again.”

“Aw, thank you, Av. We’ll think about it, ok? Alright. Bye.” Eddie lightly pushed him into the hallway and shut the door.

“Come here.” Steve beckons to you as he points in front of him.

“Fuck you.”

The man strides to your side of the desk and you let out a small yelp as he grabs your hair, pulling you to a standing position.

“Maybe it’s been too long since we’ve reminded you who is control here, little girl. When I tell you to do something, you do it.”

“Yeah, maybe it has been too long because you seem to forget right now, we are in my office.”, you seethe through gritted teeth.

He turns to look at his friend whose eyes are just as wild as his own. Steve gnaws on his cheek as he thinks before pushing you roughly back and releasing you from his hold. You glare at them as they both take a seat and you do the same.

“Where were you yesterday?”, Eddie asks. “You were supposed to come over and have dinner with us.”

“I didn’t want dinner.”

“Where. Were. You?”, he repeated.

“I was at home.” You looked away but Steve saw something in your look before you could hide it.

“Why are you lying?”

“I’m NOT lying.”

“Fine. You may have been at home but you are hiding something.”

“This may surprise you, Steven but just because we are in a relationship doesn’t mean I have to tell you every little thing.”

He leans forward on his elbows as his eyes burn holes into your own. “I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work. I don’t know what’s going on but I know that it’s fucking hypocritical for you to beg us to be more open with you yet you suddenly can’t seem to do the same.”

He had you there and your eyes fluttered as you looked away again.

“We’ll try this again. Eddie and I are inviting you over for dinner tonight. You will show up this time and we willtalk. Do you understand me?”

“Avery invited me—”

“To the club where you fucked someone else when you were pissed at us.”, Eddie cut you off.

“When you both hid your feelings and told me this was just sex!”, you growled.

“Okay. Let’s just put it this way, little one. If you don’t show up and we have to come get you… it won’t be to your liking. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?’

“Yes, Daddy.”

Without another word, they storm out of your office.

#############

You genuinely thought about following their instructions. You really did but if this was the only way for you to get what you wanted then so be it. What killed you more was that Steve was right. You were being hypocritical but you were so terrified to tell them what was really upsetting you. You had always told them you would do whatever you could to protect them and it was better to face their wrath then bring them into your chaos.

You respected their wishes to a point and stayed home instead of going out. To be honest, you didn’t even want to go out to a club without them anyway. You chugged back on the whiskey in your glass, drowning your sorrows till you crashed on the couch.

A loud knock on your front door startled you awake a little after midnight. As soon as you opened the door, a rough hand wrapped around your throat pushing you backwards.

“So I see we’re doing this the hard way.”, Steve spat as he practically carried you to the bedroom.

“I’m surprised she’s home so early.”, Eddie snickered. “Or did you get what you wanted pretty quickly, princess?”

You were thrown onto the ground and you clung to your neck as you gasped for air. “I-I-I didn’t…go.”

“Bullshit.”

“I-I-I sw-swear, St-st-Steve.”

He bent down on his heels and reached for you hair. “No, little girl. We are in MY office now. Who are you speaking to?” You claw at his wrist as he tugs back harder. “Answer me!”

“Daddy!”

Steve turned to Eddie, clapping his hands and the metalhead tossed him the handcuffs you guys had bought at the sex shop. He roughly pulled you to your feet and threw you to the bed as Eddie came over to help him remove your clothes.

You kicked at him with your feet while you tried to push at Steve with your fists. Eddie’s fingers pinched your cheeks, forcing your lips to pout out. “Stop fucking moving. Remember, you wanted this. ‘Use me. Degrade me. Bruise me.’”, he mimics your voice in an obnoxious high-pitched tone. “Do you know how stupid WE felt waiting for you tonight?”

“Searching that fucking club for you.”, Steve followed as he clicked the handcuffs around your wrists, chaining you to your headboard. “Thinking maybe you had left with some asshole like the fucking slut you are.”

They stood up from the bed, leaving you there, naked and helpless while they took off their own clothes. Steve’s eyes met yours for a second and you quickly looked away. “No, no little girl. Look at me.”

You pouted as you continued to look at the wall. The bed shifted as you felt his skin brush against yours before he suddenly twisted your hips and spanked your ass hard with his palm.

“Every time I have to repeat myself it’s just going to get worse. I said look at me!” You did as he asked but your eyes were full of determined fire. “You better control that attitude.”, he snarled.

“Now, sweetheart, it’s been a while since Daddy and I have had to do something like this but I imagine it’s like riding a bike.”, Eddie chuckled as his hand came down on your ass. You felt their hands hold open your legs and the sudden intrusion of his fingers in your cunt made you cry out.

“Where were you?”

“Here!”

Steve spanked you after you answered and the sting reverberated through your body.

“See, princess, you gave us that excuse last time and Daddy caught you in a lie.”

“No! He said I was hiding something.”

*SMACK*

“Did I ask you another fucking question?!”, Eddie shouted and Steve hit you again. The metalhead curled his fingers inside of you and you whimpered at the feeling. “Stupid whore. Did you hear that, Daddy? She said that with confidence like it’s any fucking better.”

You started to moan as you felt the coil tighten before Eddie abruptly removed his digits and smacked his palm against your pussy. “Did you seriously think after the way you’ve been acting we would let you cum?”

The did that tandem for what felt like ages. Eddie would build you up while Steve would hit your behind. Tears began to streak your cheeks but they didn’t care as they snickered and mocked you.

“Aw. Little girl can dish it out but can’t seem to take it.” Eddie toyed with you as he shoved his fingers back in your now dripping aching hole.

You suddenly felt a warm breath by your ear. “You wanted this. How does it feel? Is it everything you thought about when you were ignoring us?” Steve’s tone killed you. You hated hurting them. That wasn’t who you were.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Yeah, whatever. You don’t fucking care.”

“I-I-I do. That’s w-w-why—fuck—” The coil that had begun winding again and was about to snap but this time Eddie didn’t remove his fingers.

“You better not fucking cum. You’re not allowed to, sweetheart.”

You screamed doing everything in your power to not cum but it was hopeless. Your body trembled as your pussy clenched around his digits and the coil snapped. Eddie’s hand came down between your legs and you screamed again as you cried harder.

“RED! Red, fucking God damn it. Red!”

Their hands immediately released your thighs as Steve reached up to unlock the handcuffs as quick as he could. You felt Eddie jump off the bed as his feet slammed against your floors.

“Ow. Ow.”, you cried as Steve guided your arms down from above you.

“Eddie! Bath!”, he shouted.

“Got it! It’s ready when you are.”

You whimpered in pain as he rose to his feet and tried to lift you in his arms. “No. Daddy. Please, no.”

“I know, honey. I know it hurts. This is going to help. I promise.” He held you like a baby and slowly shuffled with you towards your bathroom.

“You got her?”, Eddie asked; his voice shaking.

“Yeah, Ed, I got her.”, he whispered.

Steve climbed into your tub, sinking down into the warm water with you still glued to him. He had no idea how to place you in the bath without shifting you too much and didn’t want to put you in anymore pain then you were already in. You started to cry again, really letting go.

“It’s ok, baby. Everything is ok.” You babbled something he couldn’t understand. “Y/N, take a deep breath and talk whenever you’re ready, ok?”

“I said…I swear…I didn’t…go to that…club.”, you hiccupped. “I really have…been home.”

“Y/N, do you remember how you felt, sweetheart, when I wouldn’t talk to you about my dad or my past?” You nodded as Eddie’s fingertips gently traced down your arm. “That’s kind of how we feel right now, baby.”

“What were you going to say?”, Steve asked. “You said you do care that’s why… Why what?”

“…Why I’m…hiding something…from you. I have to protect you.”

“’Hurt me. Not them.’” Eddie echoed your words from your nightmare when you three stayed in the hotel in Hawkins. His eyes meet his friends. “Explains why she kept asking for this.”, he gestures towards your curled up frame.

“I still don’t understand. Honey, no one’s here to hurt us. There’s no one or nothing to protect us from.”

Your hands shake as you lift your arms, pointing towards your room. “Eddie, baby, my phone is on the coffee table…”

He rises to his feet, disappearing for a moment before returning with your device. As you swipe at the screen Steve notices you have a bunch of missed calls not just from them but from an out of state number as well. You open your voicemail and press the last message, letting it play aloud.

“Y/N! You need to answer this phone right now! I knew living in that sinful city would rub off on you! And you dragged your brother down with you. You should be ashamed! You were raised better than this, you stupid girl! *Inhales, exhales* This is the last message I am leaving. Come home right now or else I will cut you off. Your father and I will no longer have a daughter! Do you understand me?!”

“Jesus, when did Steve’s dad turn into a woman?”

That genuinely made you laugh as you started to cry again. Steve pressed your head to his chest, holding you as tightly as he could.

#################

When you opened your eyes that following morning, everything hurt. Not just from playing but after finally letting them hear the message from your mom, it was like everything you had been holding on to inside let go. You were exhausted.

As you tried to roll over you realized Steve’s arm was wrapped around your waist. Eddie had fallen asleep across from you with his arm slung over his head. When you slowly reached over to move some of his hair back, his eyes immediately shot open.

“I’m here! What’s going on? You okay, baby? What do you need?”

“Shhhh. I’m okay. I just wanted to touch you.”

He sighed as he rubbed his eyes with his hands. It had begun to storm outside so there was no sun to burn his retinas at this early hour.

“Are you hungry?”, he asked. When you nodded, he reached over and carefully moved Steve’s arm out of the way before coming around to pick you up. He paused as he entered your kitchen. “Do you want to sit on the couch or I can put a pillow on the counter?”

“I can sit on the counter. It doesn’t hurt as bad anymore.” You watch his face as he softly smiled and gently place you down. “You two really don’t like doing this stuff, do you?”

His long hair moved from side to side as he shook his head. “Like Steve said, we don’t like to hurt for gratification. You know our normal punishments aren’t like that. Some people enjoy that stuff but…”

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as you look down at your feet. Eddie’s profile comes into view as his hand glides up your bare leg.

“Look at me, princess. You have no reason to be sorry. We’re still…learning each other. I just wish we had known what you were going through. Steve and I would have doubled down on the no we gave you the other day.” He kissed your forehead before focusing on the breakfast he was preparing.

“I smell French toast.” Steve shuffles into the room as he yawns, stopping to run his fingers through your hair. “Are you okay?” He smiles when you nod as he pulls up one of the stools by your counter and sits near you. Raising your foot, you place it on his jeaned knee. Steve grins again as he absently rubs your calf with his hand.

You two sat there silently as you watched Eddie move around your kitchen. It was cute watching his tongue poke out as he focused on the stove in front him.

“Who taught you how to make these?”, you ask.

“My mother.” His answer surprises you. “On one of her few good days. I woke up and found her in the kitchen putting everything together. She placed me on the counter like you are and I watched her while she made them. Occasionally she would stop and give a pointer. Definitely one of the best meals I’ve ever had.”

He beams at you before turning to grab your plates. Steve takes his queue, lifting you off the counter and brought you back to your bed. Eddie appears a few seconds after, handing you your breakfast. You smile at him after taking bite.

“This is amazing, Eddie.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” You giggle as he shoves a fork full food into his mouth.

After you three finish eating, Steve takes your plates to the sink and you hear him washing the dishes. When he comes back, he has an ice pack in his hand.

“Let me see your wrists, Y/N.”

You present them to him and he holds them together as he places the pack down against the bruises that had formed from you pulling on the cuffs. You jumped at the sound of your phone vibrating and Eddie leaned over to grab it, flashing you the screen.

“That’s my brother. I’ll call him back tomorrow. I…I can’t right now…”

“That’s ok, little miss. You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to.” You glance up at Steve’s soft, smiling face and turn to see Eddie’s look the same.

“My brother travels for work. A few days ago, he was close to my hometown so he went to visit my parents. Apparently, he went to the bathroom and left his phone on the table. My dad opened it and read my texts…talking about my job…”

“I guess that’s on brand for your parents.”, Eddie sighs.

“I don’t know what to do.”, you murmur. “I thought about going up there and doing whatever sin washing they want and just coming back, continuing like normal but… I don’t want to. I…that voicemail is just a taste of what its like. Plus, I know if I go you two are going to insist on going with me—”

“And why is that a bad thing?”

“Because I know you.” You chuckle through the tears that start to fall again. “You two will try to defend me which will make them angrier. They are probably already going to rude to Eddie and not just them but the entire town with his tattoos and leather jacket. You already went through that growing up. I’m not…I’m NOT allowing you to go through that again.”

Eddie’s fingers reach over and brush your hair behind your ear so he can see your face. “Well, first off, you’re right. We would defend the hell out of you. I don’t know about Stevie but I’m not going to let anyone disrespect you. I don’t care who they are. Secondly, and I’m aware how cliché this is going to sound but…”

You smile as he playfully rolls his eyes and Steve laughs next to you. “I would walk through fire for you, princess. Especially if that meant keeping you safe.”

“I agree. Remember, honey, you’re not doing this alone. I’m here to and I’m not going to let anyone disrespect Munson either.”

“Aw, thanks, man.” They gleefully grin at each other.

You wince slightly as Steve leans over to throw the ice pack onto your bedside table. “Shit. I’m sorry, baby.”

“No, no it’s okay. It’s mostly my ass more than anything.”, you giggle as you keen into his chest. “The bath really did help, Daddy.”

A long exhale leaves him at the sound of your tiny voice against his skin. “Was that…was that what made you shout the safe word? D-D-Did we hit you too hard?”

Hearing him stumble over his words killed you. Their goal when you played was to make sure you were comfortable and enjoyed what they were doing. If they had it their way the safe word was a precaution you would never have to use.

“No… timing.” Steve flashes you a completely bewildered look. “When you two gave me the underwear and made it vibrate while I was dancing with that asshole… and I had to watch the pain in your eyes while he put his hands on me.”, you shuddered. “I got overwhelmed and ran off.”

“While you were telling me I didn’t care last night, Sir was making me cum when I wasn’t supposed to. I got overwhelmed. It…hurt. I see you in pain and I want to make it stop but I’m supposed to be in control of something else…”

“You’re trying to take control while we’re controlling you.”, Eddie says matter a factly. “Alright, sweetheart, it seems like a talk between the three of us is long overdue.” He stretches out his body, laying his head in your lap. “I agree in the first scenario we crossed a line. Our emotions got the better of us and we made it harder for you. We should have let you take the reins there.”

“Last night… we didn’t know what was going on with you. I told you if we did, we wouldn’t have—”

“I feel like we still let our emotions get the better of us.”, Steve cut in.

“No. You were trying to give me what I asked for. I pushed you. He’s right. I should have been clear and open. I ask that from you and you both have done so well opening up to me. It’s not fair for me to hide it from you, no matter what my motives are.”

“I think what you struggle with, princess, is knowing when to let go of your control. You can’t control everything.” Eddie sits up and turns to give you his full attention. “Nothing bad is going to happen if you let go. I feel like… after our fuck up…we’ve shown you that you can trust us. That you are safe with us.”

“We won’t let anything bad happen.”, Steve continues.

“I know…I just… want you to feel like that to.”

“What makes you think we don’t?”, the metalhead smiles when you shrug. “Ah. Your beautiful brain is telling you lies, little one.”

“When we first met, you insisted on making us feel comfortable. You’ve protected us against fucking cops!” Steve grins as he pulls you closer.

“You verbally murdered Trisha Jameson which is still just the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that dress.” You giggle until your eyes meet his and you find them filled with love. “Even though you were nervous you came and stood behind me when I faced my dad.”

“You stood up for me in front of mine. No one has ever done that before.” You turned your neck to look up at him and were met with his lips. “We feel safe with you, baby girl. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.”

“We love you.” Eddie grins as he leans forward to capture your lips as well. “We love you as is by the way. Fuck your family trying to say your full of sin or whatever. You are perfect and if they don’t know that then…”

“Thank you. I love you to.” You felt yourself start to tear up again mostly at their love for you. No one had ever spoken to you like this and compared to how you were being shouted at these last few days, it was such a beautiful reprieve.

#################

The boys laid on your bed talking to each other as you slept soundly between them. The storm had knocked out the power so there wasn’t much they could do while they waited for you to wake up again when you were hungry lunch.

Their heads turned towards your bedside table when they heard you phone vibrate again. Eddie grabbed it and showed the screen to Steve. “It’s her brother again.”

The man sighed as he reached for the phone, answering it as he carefully got up from the mattress. “Hey. Y/N’s phone. She’s busy right now but I can help you.”

“Oh. Hey…um…I’m Matthew. I’m Y/N’s brother. Which one are you? Are you the pretty boy or the heavy metal guy?”

“I’m Steve. Is there something we can do for you, Matthew?”

“Is she really busy or is she avoiding me? I swear to God, I didn’t rat her out. I didn’t even think my father knew how to work an iPhone, let alone go through it. I tried to explain it away like she was joking or something but they’re stubborn.”

“She’s not avoiding you. She’s asleep. She’s had a rough few days.”

“I can imagine. My mom said she wanted her to come home. She’s been ranting at the walls basically since my dad has kind of shut down. Do you know if she’s coming?”

“She hasn’t decided but if she does, she won’t be alone.”

“Good. I, uh, I’m staying at a hotel right now just outside of town. If she decides to come, I’ll be here to. My parents… I don’t think they know about you two. I don’t think they snooped that far.”

Steve glanced at Eddie. “She told you about us?”

“Oh yeah, man. We talk about everything. She’s like my best friend. She doesn’t give me all the gory details but she says you guys are good to her and you make her laugh. Some girlie bullshit about the way you smell and how the other guy’s lips taste.”, he chuckles. “I don’t care about the logistics. As long as you two treat her right and my sister’s happy, I don’t care. She’s been through enough.”

“Yeah, she has… when she wakes up, I’ll tell her you called and what you said.”

“Ok. Thanks. If, um, if she doesn’t want to talk to me, I understand. Just tell her I love her and I’ll be here if she does decide to come home.”

################

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 1 year

Note

Hey, idk if requests are open but could you write a fic where the reader gets back stabbed by her only friends (them shit-talking her behind her back when she’s already going through shit) and Ghost’s reaction to the reader telling him about this?

It’s literally just happened to me so it’s kind of sucky. Thank you if you do end up doing this, it means a lot to me. Take care of yourself and have a lovely day <3

𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ~ 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: After a long and difficult mission that completely goes wrong you return to base for a much-needed break. Instead, you're met with harsh words overheard by the friends you held dear, and it breaks you. Luckily Simon is there to hold you for as long as you need. OR Simon is sweet and soft and holds you close as you cry. Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!Reader Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Bullying, cursing, mentions of violence but other than that it's just really soft. Hurt/Comfort is my favouriteee. Author's Note: Hi Anon, I'm sorry it took so long for me to finish your request, and I'm even more sorry that this happened to you. But you don't need my pity, instead, hopefully, this fic acts as a bit of comfort, what happened to you was really shitty. Ghost will make it feel better though :))

It was a gnawing sort of feeling, betrayal. One that ate away at your very soul and left nothing but pain in its wake. The action alone may not be the worse thing in the entire world, something that anyone would look at and be forced to look away from because it was that terrible. But what made betrayal ache was that in the before, in its place, was trust.

Trust comes differently to everyone, to some it may be as simple as a flick of the wrist, whereas for others it may be a slow uphill climb, but once established, it should not be broken. It should never be expected to be broken, because at its root that is what trust is, is it not? To place a piece of your soul into another person’s hand and believe that they will treat it gently.

And yet sometimes, people grasp onto that and squeeze as tightly as they can until it shatters into irreparable pieces.

“Gods they’re such a fuck up all the time, who wants to place bets as to why their mission failed? Oh! I know! Them,” Roxanne had sneered before laughing along with the rest of the group. The group you had once called friends. You listened in from the shadows as they talked loudly in the corridor, false hope building in your chest because maybe, just maybe, they weren’t talking about you.

“Gods I don’t even know why they were allowed to go in that mission in the first place, Ghost and Soap? They’re the best of the best, and then…” Lucille said, trailing off and allowing them to fill in the blanks. Your heart drops, weighing as heavy as the gear you still wore from the mission. You hadn’t even had time to go back to your room yet and word had already spread of the result of the mission.

You had seen your friends in the hallway, ready to go greet them all before you overheard their conversation. About you.

It had already been a difficult few weeks already. It seemed as though every mission you had gone on went awry. Whether it’d be faulty intel or teammate injury, hell, one time the people you were after weren’t even at the base you were set to infiltrate! Regardless, you had failed.

The one mission prior to this one had been the worst though. You were on a recon mission when all of a sudden the enemies were raining down hellfire. You were the sniper of the team, their eyes in the sky if anything went awry. It allowed you to protect your team in a way you couldn’t on the ground. It was a difficult gunfight but your team was pulling through and the end was near. But then you spotted a child huddled behind a dumpster a bit of a ways off in the distance, trembling as she covered her ears from the sound.

You had radioed in that you were going to help her, but received orders back that you were to continue killing off enemy soldiers until there was no one left, it would compromise the mission should you abandon your team for this child.

But you knew that your team could handle themselves, and like hell you were going to let this little kid be out there in the open. That was a death wish! And you were not going to see a civilian die if you had a say in it. So you had dropped your position to save this kid, putting her in a safer spot until the end of the fight.

Your team had made it back alive, with a few more injuries than necessary, but alive. But that wasn’t good enough for your superior, so you got the chewing out of a lifetime.

“The HELL were you thinking compromising the entire fucking mission for a god damned civvy?! I could have you written up for this, disobeying direct orders when the entire team was in danger. You know your duty, you cannot compromise the mission, whatever the fuck the reason may be.”

All you were able to squeak out was a ‘Yes, Sir’ before you were sent out of the office, tears threatening to fall.

That mission had eaten away at you for the longest time and had you questioning whether you were right enough for the job. Putting the mission first? Even at the risk of killing innocents, you had the capability of saving? That mission was the breaking point, and whispers began on base as people began to recognize the common factor in each of the missions that went wrong. You.

It was a miracle it didn’t meet Simon’s ears really, how often people would gossip behind your back. You knew that if he even caught the faintest wind of it he would be tearing people apart left and right.

Your sweet, sweet boyfriend.

You knew that he noticed something was up, but that man was anything if not patient and would never prod at anything you weren’t willing to tell. Because he understood better than anyone that sometimes things were difficult to talk about. And so, he waited for you to come to him. But you never did.

“Isn’t that a little mean? I mean, you know missions don’t always go to plan, even the best of the best still mess up. And isn’t she ranked the best in our unit? Surely-” Stella said before she was cut off sharply.

“Enough, Stella, you know she’s not worth it,” Mikayla bites back snarkily, making Stella shrink into herself.

Well, at least one person stood up for you.

“I don’t care if they’re Ares himself, why should they get to go on these high-profile missions with the 141 while we’re out here getting the scraps?”

Oh, so that’s what it was. Jealousy. A disgusting emotion, no doubt, but that wasn’t an excuse to be horrible to someone you called a friend.

They were your closest friends on the base, the ones you had movie nights with, and went bar hopping with knowing they would protect your drink with their life. You were close to the 141 too, but with them, it was a different vibe entirely. 141 were your friends and colleagues, but they also knew you as Simon’s partner as well. But the other friend group, well, seemed as though they weren’t your friends as much anymore.

How long had they been thinking like this? How many times had you hung out with them only for them to show their fakest selves?

Looking back now, it all began to make sense, all the backhanded compliments and snarky comments. You brushed them off as playful banter but it all added up now.

You didn’t even have the heart to confront them, because while they were being cruel, there were many moments too precious to you that you wanted to cling onto. At least for a little while longer. You knew it wasn’t healthy, Gods know that if you could let them go in a snap it would be so much better, but it wasn’t that easy.

Tears brimming your eyes, you slipped through the shadows and out of sight, headed to your room where you could take a shower and just forget it all.

You walked through the hallways silently, head tilted toward the floor to avoid anyone’s gaze, you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anyone else’s judgement, not today at least.

Right as you arrived in front of your door an arm is held up in front of you, blocking your way. You blink hard to force away the tears before your head snaps up to the person. All you’re met with is the familiar pale skull mask, and the comfort it brings you makes a sob climb up to your throat that you choke back down.

“Mind if a join you for a bit?” Simon asks, voice gentle as his gaze trails over your face and the expression you can no longer find the ability to hide from him.

You only nod as you go to unlock your door, knowing that your words would fail you if you tried to speak.

He follows you closely from behind, clicking the door closed. At long last you could let your guard fall down, tears pouring from your eyes as you sob. Your legs no longer have the capability to hold you up as you lose yourself to the sorrow, but before you can hit the floor Simon is capturing you in his arms and pulling you to his chest.

He doesn’t say anything, knowing that nothing he could say right now was what you needed. No, all you needed at this moment was to be held, to know you were loved.

With careful hands he guides you to the bed, lying down first before pulling you down on top of him. One arm was wrapped around your waist as the other was gently holding your head, allowing you to cry into his sweater.

And that you did, for longer than you would admit. You loathed crying, it felt weak, it’s what was instilled in you since you were young. You knew this wasn’t the case, but habits were hard to unlearn. Crying was a way to express emotion, a healthy and normal way to, but in this type of work, you couldn’t afford to show emotions. That’s what got you, and others, killed.

But you were only human after all.

So you cried, and you cried, and Simon only held you close, even as his own heart broke as he listened to your broken sobs. If he could will your pain to go away, to become his own, he would do so in an instant. But that’s not the way the world works, so he would be here for you in every way that he could.

After a little while your sobs had died down to only the occasional sniffle, the tears run dry. You don’t say anything though as you try to collect yourself fully, but that was alright with Simon. He does however sweep you away to the washroom, carrying you like a bride that brings the tiniest quirk of a smile to your lips at the cheesiness of the action.

Placing you down on the countertop he wets a washcloth wordlessly, before trailing it up and down your face with soft hands, the dried-up tears washing away with it. The tenderness of the action makes your heart melt as you lean into his touch, soothing the pain if only a little bit.

“Wanna tell me what’s been going on, sweetheart?” He asks cautiously, prodding but patient. You only sigh softly before looking up at him, his mask long gone, taken off some time in between when you were crying and now.

You can’t help but reach out to stroke over his face, a smile gracing your lips that don’t quite meet your eyes, but it's an effort. His face was still rough with stubble after the long mission, not that you minded in the slightest. His eyes close as he relishes your touch.

“It’s just…” you pause, trying to find the right words to say. “Things have been, rough, lately, I guess. All the missions that have been going wrong, they have just been piling up I suppose, and they were weighing me down.”

His eyes open as he listens to you speak, the hazel colour meeting your own, leaving you feeling like you were bearing your soul for him to see.

“That one mission with Captain Oberon was the worst I think. I know saving that kid was the right thing to do, or at least that’s what I tell myself. I mean, if I can’t save one fucking kid in a job that’s supposed to ‘save the world’ then what good am I for?” You say, your tone irritated at yourself more than anyone.

“But I think that was the breaking point, where I started to question what I was really doing here. What’s ‘top of my unit’ if I can’t do the one thing I’m meant to do? That’s…when the whispers started. Saying how I was the reason missions kept going wrong, how I was the ‘bad luck charm’ and such,” Simon’s eyes harden as he takes in your words before he collects himself, knowing now was not the time to be angry.

“And I know that they’re not my fault, believe me, I do. Things go wrong all the time on the job, it’s what’s expected really. But then,” you trail off, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as you feel your eyes well up once more.

Simon’s thumb catches them before they fall, however, and you smile at him for a moment before continuing.

“But then I come back from our mission today, and I see my friends in the hallway talking. Here I am, thinking that I can find a moment of repose in this difficult world when all I hear is them saying these cruel things, about how I’m the fuck up, and how it’s not fair that I get to go on missions with the task force because I don’t deserve to. And I know that I’m not the reason why missions go wrong because sometimes that’s just how the world goes, but…” your head slumps over, forehead pressing into Simon’s shoulder.

“But when half the world tells you that you’re the reason why, it’s hard not to believe them too,” you whisper brokenly.

For a moment the washroom is silent, but all at once Simon’s arms are wound tightly around you in a hug so all-encompassing it only makes you cry once more.

“Never believe what they say, alright doll? You are one of the best soldiers I have ever seen on the field, your tactical skills and intelligence carry every team that you’re on, and I say that with every ounce of truth. I have never seen anyone more efficient and fucking badass than you, don’t forget that now, alright? I will continue to say this until you believe me entirely,” he says, his tone final, so full of confidence that you can’t help but believe him too.

“Okay,” you whisper, but that’s good enough for him.

“Do you need me to do anything?” he says, his tone hardened as thoughts of what he could do to everyone who has done you wrong fly through his head at 100 miles per minute.

“No,” you say panicked before recovering, pulling away to look at him. “no.” A bit more softly.

“I can deal with them myself. I know I don’t have to prove anything to them, but I can damn well show them that I’m meant to be where I am. Their jealous asses can suck it,” you say harshly but self-assured, and Simon can’t help the smirk that forms on his face. He was proud knowing that you could more than handle yourself.

...That did not, however, mean that he was not going to put them through absolute hell in training.

“There you are,” he says fondly, hand brushing your hair back. “You show them, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, the first true smile forming today.

“Let’s go make some pancakes,” he says, sweeping you up into his arms. On instinct your legs wrap around his waist.

“Right now?” you say with a laugh, and he can’t help but chuckle along.

“Right now.”

#simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #fluff #hurt comfort #WEEEEEEEEEEEE

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beautifulblooms · 2 years

Note

MWHAHAHAHHAHHEHHEHHHIHJKHSFUINGOI:SDPG:SDUIHSD:DGJH:UISDGHUISHGUIHGUISHGLUIHSUIN I NEED THIS IN THE FINEST HURT/COMFORT YOU'VE GOT!!!!!!! please if you shall listen to my proposal, ahem.....

hurt/comfort Eddie munson x male reader fic based on the chorus of the song "Eddie Baby" by Felix Hagan & The Family

PLEASE BESTIE I NEED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! T-T WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAH

Oh Eddie Baby Won't You Come to My Arms Tonight? - Eddie Munson x Male!Reader

Alex, you're talking to the wrong person for hurt/comfort, this is going to be literal suffering for you tonight bestie, I hope you enjoy the pain you're about to go through

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

Tags: @alexs-playground, @eddieverse, @mother-dragon-and-her-hatchlings, @mazettns, @qthetherapist, @rlmt1, @samthecultist

It had barely been a week since Eddie died, since he laid in my lap as the light left his eyes. We had loved each other for so long and known each other for even longer, his death broke me. The only thing I could do was listen to his tapes on loop for days on end. There was one song that came along that hurt the most, Eddie Baby.

"The cameras captured all of the glances and all of the chances we missed we raged. And we spun for all of the dancers the song as it lasted was bliss." My voice was shaky as I sang along to the lyrics, almost pleading with myself to keep it together just long enough to sing the song. Seeing him die in my hands hurt the most, having him tell me to take care of hellfire with Dustin, make sure Wayne knows he loved him, he just wanted the best for me but I couldn't give him that.

"But now the years have eaten the songs we believed in, and nothing is left but the sound of six billion people ignoring the magic we found." Eddie was on the other side, there left alone without anyone he loved, revived and mutated as a creature of the upside down. Listening to the songs play endlessly from my stereo, it still managed to echo into the other dimension, along with my singing. Tears began to cloud his vision as he wished with all his might to be there for me, just hold me, but he was stuck here without a portal to get back.

"Oh, but I hear your voice. It calls me like the night it's singing in each syllable I write oh Eddie, baby, won't you come to my arms tonight? I beg and plead you, please succumb to my charms tonight." Continuing to sing my eyes got blurry with a fresh set of tears, somehow surprised that tears were still a possibility for me after the endless crying. Eddie hummed along to the lyrics with choked sobs on the other side, large wings wrapping around him as he sat against the headboard of my bed in the other dimension.

"I give my heart but you take it, and you break it, and you tear it apart. Oh Eddie, baby, won't you come to my arms." The lyric was true but it was in the song, he didn't break my heart, not ever, he was too kind to me to hurt me like that. I gave him my heart, and he gave me his, we treasured them with every last fiber of our beings.

"When hormones were raging whilst sweetly teenaging, we cackled at thoughts of decline. And every chord that the people ignored is preserved in my mind for all time." Memories of us fucking around at school, running through the hallways and football field, the forest we always had secret dates in, even hellfire sessions where I would sit in a corner and just watch him have his fun.

"And while the years have clawed at us and tears have gnawed at us. The song in my head still resounds and I hope that one day, dear friend, you will come around." He was sobbing at this point, body shaking, tears freely flowing, wings no longer still around him but trashing slightly at his broken singing, words barely understandable.

"So scream and shout, we're burning out like everyone, so face the crowd rage at thunderclouds, just jump into the fire and run." My words were almost just as hard to understand, sobs and tears replacing the words as I tried to keep up with the song.

"Oh Eddie, baby, won't you come to my arms tonight? I beg and plead you, please succumb to my charms tonight." He wanted to run to my arms, wanted to succumb to my charms, he wanted so desperately to tell me that he was alive.

"I give my heart, but you take it, and you break it, and you tear it apart. Oh Eddie, baby, won't you come to my arms. Oh Eddie, baby, won't you come to my arms. Oh Eddie, baby, won't you come to my arms." As the song drifted off my words were fully replaced by sobs and tears, body shaking, blankets pulled all around me and up to my face where the tears stained the fabric. In that moment Eddie realized that we were both suffering such heartbreak, he was stuck in a place where we could never see each other again, and I was barely alive on the other side crying myself to sleep yet again.

#male reader #male reader fanfic #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie x male reader #stranger things fanfiction #x male reader

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cluelessatthispoint · 1 year

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I’ve had this horrible idea floating in my brain for a month now. Medic x (GN) Reader. Basically, Medic discovers his wife cheated on him. His first instinct is to call the reader for comfort and to ask to stay with them while the divorce finalizes.

Medic soon realizes that he’s in love with the reader, and has been for a good while.

I’d like a oneshot. If you’re busy, I understand. I apologize for the inconvenience.

I'm so excited! Thanks for the request, I've been wanting to write something involving Medic for a while now.

Warnings: mentions of a fight and cheating on one's spouse.

~~~~~~~~

It's been three days.

Three long, painful days.

The first day was when he discovered his wife's infidelity. That was when the insults began and the screaming matches started. On the second day, they began the talk of getting a divorce. Medic shut his eyes recalling the third day. He walked into the house that he shared with his wife to gather his belongings, claiming that he needed some space. And there in the doorway to his kitchen stood the bastard that stole his wife's love.

Everything from that moment till now passed like a blur. There was shouting, plates being broken and fists were thrown. The sting on his knuckles felt like nothing compared to the aching numbness that's been gnawing away at him. It was the first time in a very very long time that he felt like crying. It was almost as if he were crying for the first time in his life. His sobs reverberated around his small office. His hands felt far too rough against his sensitive eyes, prompting even more tears to fall.

His teammates knew something was off with him the moment he set foot back on the base. A jolt of embarrassment shot through him. His sobbing stifled.

'Did they know?'

'Oh Gott, do they know?'

More and more questions fluttered through his head. Each one, worse than the last. He was catastrophizing, he's seen it before. Many people go through divorces, but being a mercenaryon top of it? The thought of his teammates knowing this delicate part of his personal life was affecting him this way was akin to a fate worse than being tortured by the BLUs.

'What would Misha say?'

'Would my teammates ever look at me the same way again?'

'what would you say?'

For some strange reason, that thought didn't seem as bad as the others. The other thoughts about his team knowing about this situation filled him with dread. But you. The way that you cared about what everyone had to say, whether it was good or bad was astonishing.

You took people's perspectives and flipped them upside down, you knew what to say and how to say it. If there was a problem, you were one of the first people that his team would call. The way that you helped him in the past came to mind. How you would sit up with him in the darkness of the rec room and talk him through a situation. How you would get that look in your eyes when explaining a passion of yours, how your soft hardworking hand felt in his much larger one...it was breath-taking.

He needed to call you.

He needed to call you ASAP.

Eyeing the phone warily he dialed your number and waited. He didn't have to wait long. Soon the sound of your tired voice came through.

"Medic? You do know that it's 9pm, right?"

"Medic? is everything okay? did something happen?"

The way your voice sounded through the phone was so sweet. His hands felt sweaty against the phone handle. He couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"What's wrong Ludwig?"

And with that, the damn broke. He felt like an utter dummkopf. His chest heaved with despairing sobs..You both have known each other for years. And yet he never noticed how he felt around you. He never noticed how you looked at him with those twinkling eyes or how you always stayed behind to help him clean his lab and feed his birds.

"Ludwig, I'm here, just breathe. Breathe with me."

"Ludwig please."

As you inhaled he inhaled, as you exhaled he exhaled. This cycle continued for what felt like hours. He could feel his temples throbbing painfully. He felt a strange warmth fill up his chest, not the uncomfortable warmth of embarrassment. It was the feeling of that gentle warmth called admiration, perhaps...maybe even love? He smiled a little at that thought.

"Danke der Schatz"

"Medic? You know that I don't speak german right?"

Oh, that voice.. that lovely voice you had.. with no doubt an equally lovely voice box to match. He could tell from the tone of your voice that you your words with a light smile.

You both stayed on the line for quite a while. Not really talking, but listening to each other's breaths. Once in a while breaking the silence by just saying each other's names. Medic felt himself slowly relaxing into the wall behind him. The sound of your voice saying his name felt as if it were taking all of his stress away. You sounded so concerned, so confident. That if he were shot in the leg and you told him he could walk he would have walked with you to the ends of the earth.

With a sigh his strained voice thanked you and he hung up. His heart beat violently from within his ribcage. His tired voice echoed around his empty room. Wishing desperately that you were still on the phone.

"I think..."

"I think I love you."

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lieutenant-amuel · 1 year

Note

Oooh sunflower, marigold and winterberry for Valerio, please!!!

I actually didn’t plan on taking those asks, but thank you, Blue!!

Sunflower - What name(s) were you originally thinking of calling your OC?

I… don’t remember. Most of my characters got their names as a result of me scrolling through the lists of Spanish names with their meanings, so I believe I had several options for Valerio but I don’t remember them.

The thing I can say is that there was a short period when I thought of renaming him because to be fair Valerio is more an Italian name than Spanish, so it started bothering me a bit.

But it happened when Valerio existed for a very long time and his name was mentioned literally everywhere, on both fanfiction platforms, on Tumblr, on Discord, and he was one of the main characters, so changing his name would be too much trouble and I had to accept it.

Anyway, he was born in Nueva Vista that’s based on Venice or whatever, and even if it isn’t, I love the name Valerio, generally and for my character, so he’s Valerio until his last breath.

Marigold - Describe your OC in three words or less

Not necessarily adjectives/personality traits? I have something for this ask then.

***

Valerio walked down the corridor towards his classroom to prepare for the lesson. A normal day like any other, except he didn’t flinch every time Emilio was around him anymore.

He left him alone.

It was something that Valerio desired the most but something still felt wrong. He remembered every instant of his conversation with Emilio, how his eyes were filling with tears, how the words of repentance flew off the strings of his trembling voice. It was exactly what he wanted to see. The pain of someone who put him through an unbearable nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

Emilio deserved it.

Emilio deserved—

Emilio—

His exultation was drowned out by a feeling of gnawing guilt as he remembered everything Matías told him. What he’d done wrapped around his neck like tentacles of the sea beast that dragged him down, back to his past to the dark bottom never touched by the sun rays.

Indecisive. Pathetic. Cruel.

He felt like a monster. There was no better word to describe him.

Valerio swung the door wide open and threw his bag on the desk as he flopped down on a chair. He carelessly took out the books as he kept gazing at his gloves. Things could be much easier if he didn’t wear them. Who would care about his scars? Who would care about how he got them? He was loved by everyone, from teachers to students, in this school. He wouldn't get anything but sympathy if they knew he was a fire victim.

But he was scared. Because the fire wasn’t the thing he hid.

Valerio put his hands together and was going to remove one of his gloves but suddenly a voice rang out in the doorway.

“Hey, Señor Álvarez!” Valerio sharply turned his head and saw Ángel, “Are you busy? I need your help with something.”

Ángel walked in without waiting for him to reply, and Señor Álvarez cleared his throat to greet his student, “Sure, Ángel. What’s up?”

Ángel sat down opposite him and dumped a bunch of papers on the desk.

“I wanna learn how to write poetry! And I need advice.”

Señor Álvarez chuckled, “But why have you decided to come to me? I think Señor Serrano knows more about poetry than I do.”

Ángel shrugged, “You were the first person that came to my mind.”

Señor Álvarez smiled a bit and took the papers Ángel handed to him.

“Can you read it, please, and tell me what you think?”

Señor Álvarez’s eyes skimmed through the lines, and Ángel carefully watched his expression to understand his thoughts but he wasn’t sure that his gentle smile really meant anything. Once he finished, he looked at Ángel who impatiently tapped his fingers as he awaited Señor Álvarez’s review.

“It’s great! You seem to know how to find the right words, plus you have no trouble with rhyming. Those are your first works, right?” Ángel nodded with an awkward smile, “In this case I’m even more impressed. The only thing I’d advise is to work on the rhythm of your poems. And I have a little trick for that. Look.”

As Señor Álvarez read Ángel’s poem out loud, he tapped his finger at every syllable. It created a smooth melody until it tripped over a long word that didn’t fit the pattern of the rest of the poem, and Ángel even winced when he heard it.

“Always read what you write out loud. It will help you expose awkward mistakes that are hiding in your head.”

Ángel nodded and took the poem to cross out the unfitting word and replace it with something else.

“Okay, maybe it’s better now,” Ángel began to read it out loud and as he followed Señor Álvarez’s advice, he tapped his finger on the desk.

It was perfect this time.

“Woohoo! It worked!” Ángel exclaimed cheerfully and looked at Señor Álvarez, “Thank you so much!”

He chuckled a bit and silently nodded.

“Can I ask you how you created this thing, Señor Álvarez?”

“One person I knew taught me. She was a great poet,” he fell silent for a moment with a sad smile, “And can I ask you why you’ve decided to start writing poetry? Your poems are very emotional. It feels like you’re writing them for someone dear to you.”

Ángel dropped his eyes, “My parents are divorced, but I keep in touch with Mamá and I want to write something special for her. But… I don’t want anyone to know it, so please, don’t tell anyone. Especially Papá and my friends.”

“You can count on me,” Señor Álvarez stuck out his little finger for a pinky swear, and Ángel laughed.

“Now I know why I’ve come to you, Señor Álvarez!”

They released each other’s fingers, and as Ángel glanced at Señor Álvarez, he suddenly felt a surge of warmth radiating from his smile. He was so encouraging and kind, and Ángel still couldn’t get used to it since those were the qualities that Señor Bravo, his previous history teacher, lacked.

Being around Señor Álvarez felt like being wrapped around a soft cozy blanket that could keep him from the cold. He knew it was weird to feel that way about his teacher but he couldn’t help it. Señor Álvarez was a lot more than just a teacher.

“Thank you for always inspiring me to do new things, Señor Álvarez,” he said as he got up from the desk, “You know, you’ve actually been doing it since the first day we’ve met.”

“Good luck with your poems, Ángel. I’m sure your mother will love them when she reads them.”

They both exchanged broad smiles, and as Ángel left the classroom, Valerio exhaled peacefully.

Warmth. Kindness. Inspiration.

Yes. Those words described him well, too.

***

Have I just spoiled Valerio’s entire arc? Perhaps.

Winterberry - Use one or more photos that encapsulates your OC's clothing style.

Oh no. I’m horrible at choosing clothes for my characters x) But something like this, I guess.

Gloves 1000000%

Something black, because this is currently his main color, and sorta elegant? I suppose I’m thinking too much about Valerio as a teacher now, but I’m really not sure what he wears casually.

And he wears a crystal necklace :D You can try to guess why.

And when he was younger, something like this? He’s a sea guy after all, and I think this is actually the closest what he wears in the 13th chapter (aka young Valerio chapter). I also can imagine him wearing something more colorful but it looks way too modern XD

Thank you again!

Flowery OC Asks

#Ask me anything #Ask meme #Flowery OC Asks #Was Born To Lead #My OCs #Valerio Álvarez #Ángel Suarez #He was there so why not #My writing #You know I could easily finish writing the second answer at the sentence ‘he was a monster’ because it was already too long #but I thought it wouldn’t be right to end it on a bad note XD #Oh no is Valerio teaching Ángel how to break the law

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antonia-gergely · 7 months

Text

Current Artist Research - Janine Antoni (b. 1964, Bahamas)

Border Crossings article

'From the beginning, Antoni has used her body as the object through which she has measured her place in the world. She has said that her body “is a funnel through which the world is poured,” and for the last 20 years she has discovered subtle ways to affect that pouring.'

Conduit, 2009.

'There were the more specific questions, such as with Conduit, which includes an apparatus that allows a woman to pee standing up, I asked myself if I’m going to pee through an object, what material should it be made of? I was thinking about Duchamp’s Fountain, of course, and so I first made it in porcelain. Then I came to copper. It would patina when in contact with my urine and it calls to mind the decorative cornices on buildings.'

Conduit, 2009

Her work fills me with some feeling of rebellious vindication. Every piece of hers I've seen has struck me as a visceral display of Antoni's mind and process. She seems to get an idea, then develop it theoretically, retrospectively, while letting it develop physically, presently. The issue she had with Lard Gnaw collapsing before the opening of her exhibition led her to consider the difficulty to control fat in the human body, Conduit formed a patina when it came into contact with her urine, and that made her 'consider Gothic architecture as the background for' her action.

[source: https://bordercrossingsmag.com/article/the-beautiful-trap-janine-antonis-body-art]

note to self: Antoni allows herself to move seamlessly between photography, sculpture, performance - it's easiest way to conduct the development of ideas. get the idea out as opposed to planning to do so

Gnaw, 1992.

Antoni cast 600 pounds of chocolate into a cube and sculpted it using her mouth. In the same mould she packed 600 pounds of lard. She also sculpted it with her mouth. Two weeks before the exhibition, the lard collapsed onto the ground. The one part of the piece she couldn't control was lard - conceptually in keeping with her interest, according to her.

The chocolate she spit out was cast into heart shaped packaging for candies. The lard was moulded into lipsticks.

Wonderful speaker to listen to, I think:

2013 Distinguished Artists' Interview with Janine Antoni, CAA. Video, Youtube. 46'03.

Speaks to Klaus Ottmann.

'I started the piece with some very traditional ideas. I was interested in doing the most traditional thing I could do as a sculptor, and that was to carve...

...Rather than to describe the body ... I'd talk about the body by the residue it left on the object.'

'I thought if I could seduce you ... I would equally disgust you.'

There's a lot of reference in the piece, the minimalist cube, the handmade readymade.

She acknowledges the RISD professor, Mira Schor - a New York-based artist and writer noted for her advocacy of painting in a post-medium visual culture and for her contributions to feminist art history. [source: https://www.miraschor.com]

On Loving Care, 1993

She is vulnerable in her position, but claims her space with her movement and action, and any viewer feels the need to step back.

'I was thinking about [Yves] Klein, and those paintings of him putting blue paint on the women's bodies and rolling the on the canvas.'

She relates the piece to her childhood, her mother sending her out to play, almost claiming the kitchen as her own, having mopped the floor.

'The piece really worked with everyone in the room. It was a very intimate experience, but it was also one where you felt you were really part of it.' - Klaus Ottmann

'Two forms sculpting each other simultaneously' - sentiment she got from Greek architecture built without mortar.

See also - all available and described on janineantoni.net

To Twine, 2015

Saddle, 2000

I Conjure Up, 2019

#art research #sculpture #photography #Janine Antoni #artist #feminism #anatomy #conceptual art #performance art

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let-it-show · 2 years

Text

Just Be

A little thing, a sweet thing, where Elsa is being reminded she doesn’t need to exhaust and push herself to be loved and accepted. Anna always knows what to say and how to say it - for the most part. It’s unedited so apologies for any typos! **~~~*****~~~~ She could do so much that at times, she was sure she appeared unstoppable. Rain would fall from the sky, and Elsa would make an umbrella of ice. An icebox broke, and she could replace it to keep the goods inside from spoiling. Children wanted giant ice playgrounds and she could conjure them up with giant waves of her hands with a twinkle in her eye. The heat came in suddenly, and it struck with a force. The weight of the air brought great difficulty anytime anyone tried to get to their feet. Simply walking down the lovely streets of Arendelle was a sweaty endeavor, and many families sought the cool shade of the surrounding forests and rocky cliffs. Not everyone could do so, however – work still needed to be done, whether it was repairs on homes, the feeding of livestock, or the making of delicious chocolates while also preventing the immediate melting of said chocolates.

And so, Elsa was put to task again, despite the reminders from her fellow queen and sister to be careful. She smiled at Kristoff's offers to bring greater ice deliveries from the mountains and an overall push to harvest more blocks. Sven would pick up the reigns for the sled in his mouth, but Elsa could have none of it. Putting her friends to harder work in the dire heat was off the table. “I will use my powers to help our people, as I always do. I must,” Elsa claimed as she had left the great hall. “Don't push yourself, Elsa!” Anna urged. “You can only do what you can do. Our people love you whether or not you have powers,” Anna reminded her. Elsa knew that, and yet, it always gnawed on her that they didn't know her without her powers, so how could it be a fair statement? The only one who ever knew her without powers was Anna, when she spent years upon years not remembering Elsa had them. Regardless of that, Anna had loved her, and loved her so very much. The town never had a real memory of her before her powers were revealed, as she was shuttered in at such a young age. And so, she found herself doing exactly as she had been told not to do, because how could she not? Elsa rarely felt vulnerable to her people, as it was, they never threatened her or told her to leave. Old insecurities died hard and sometimes they were still alive and twitching just that much. A great wave of her hands and a large, whirling ice fan rose from the waters of the fjord. Flat, icy blades propelled the air off the water to the town. At first it was too fast but Elsa had no trouble slowing it down. She set the fan to maintain a moderate speed, sending chilly air where it was needed – partially. One gigantic fan would be too much, but simply a huge fan was too little. And so, another rose, and a third, and another as tall as the castle and beautifully slim with spiraling, glittering ice crawling up the frozen bases. Elsa let her hand fall to her side as a great exhaustion crept over her. Sometimes her creations were easy, and sort of took care of themselves. Olaf, Marshmallow and the hundreds of tiny snowmen in the ice palace had somehow formed little souls, and their own energy; Elsa didn't have to maintain them. The fans, and other ice structures Elsa had set about her kingdom to keep comfort and health under the blazing sun took a little more effort. Everything had to be set just so, with a perfect layer to fend off melting and enough thought to work correctly. When the sun finally left the sky and bright stars twinkled, Elsa lay exhausted on her large bed, stripped of all her clothing as she tried to cool down, the heat from the day having preyed on her at every chance. She was able to stay relatively cool but as she was also still human, the heat had ways of piercing through her defenses and leaving her with a cool cloth pressed to her forehead. “I told you not to go so hard,” Anna whispered to her as she joined her on the bed just as naked. Her body was warm but not in a way that contributed to Elsa's situation. It was a soft warmth, a welcome warmth. She laid along Elsa's side, her fingers pressed against Elsa's cheek. “I had to, Anna. We haven't seen a wave of heat this strong in years. I can't have our people feeling unwell and unable to do the work they need to.” “I'd disagree that you needed to exhaust yourself making giant structures. Some ice here, and there, maybe an ice...cooling pad...area...” Anna struggled to get the words out, evidently not sure of what idea she even wanted to convey. “And now you're so, so tired and you don't feel good.” Elsa knew, realistically, she didn't have to do so much. However... “Ever since the forest, they all know my magic grows and is capable of so, so much. How would it be for me to hold back and not give my all?” “You are capable, but it doesn't always come without a cost. You're still mostly human...as far as I can tell. You look human, feel human...” Anna stuck her nose into the crook of Elsa's neck. It tickled and Elsa let out a giggle with a squirm. “You smell human.” “Anna...” Moving quickly, Anna met Elsa's lips with her own, her tongue devilishly slipping between them. Anna's fingers slid into her hair and dug slightly at her scalp. Elsa closed her eyes and was unable to suppress a little moan while Anna kissed her, fully enjoying the attention. She wished she had the energy to pull her beautiful queen on top of her. When Anna pulled back, she licked her lips. “You taste human and you sound human,” she finally added. “So...” “Hmmm?” Elsa gazed at her, her cheeks red and hot but once again – a different kind of heat than the one pulling her to the bed and ordering her to rest. “So...act like it!” Anna said suddenly, sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry at Elsa like a child. “Anna!” Elsa laughed, joy flowing through her. Anna made her points in the most creative and strangest of ways, sometimes, and she couldn't argue against them. “Tomorrow, no more. You've made the fans, and additions to Kristoff's sled to help with his journey to the mountains. You rest. You relax. You...” Anna paused, then she offered sort of a sly smile. “You let me take care of you,” she purred, trailing her fingers down from Elsa's head to her shoulder, arm, torso, and resting on her lower belly. “You've done enough.” “I will rest as long as it doesn't get hot-” “It'll get hotter,” Anna cut her off. “But not, like...you know, outside and stuff” she addd and her smooth flirtations lost their way. She didn't appear bothered. “Please Elsa. Rest. The kingdom doesn't need you sick from overdoing it. Our people love you, whether or not you use your powers to solve every singly problem yourself,” Anna told her, as she had told her before many times. She was right. Elsa knew that. “I know. I-...I know,” she said, surrendering. “But I can't just sit around all day, even if I do need to rest.” Then Anna took on that sly smile again. “You won't be. I'll have some, ah, some work for you to do, and for a lot of it you don't even have to leave the bed,” she promised, kissing Elsa's shoulder. A pleasurable shiver ran through Elsa as she thought about Anna's words. “Mmmhmm, I can imagine. I can even do some work right now if-” “No!” Anna reached for Elsa's hand, squeezing it. “I...no. I want you to cool off, and sleep right now.” “Is that all you want?” “Yes,” Anna confessed, honesty in her eyes. “You don't have to do anything, for me or anyone. Just be, Elsa. Just...exist, right now, that's all I want and need from you, no more. You don't have to prove yourself or earn anything.” Elsa blinked, not entirely expecting Anna's serious words from the way she was acting. Her younger sister was a bit all over the place, really, but in the best way. “Oh.” “Let me love you for no other reason than I want to. Take, for once.” There was that true and unconditional love that always spoke to Elsa's heart and reminded her of who she was, and how she felt. Anna knocked, and Elsa opened the door knowing there weren't expectations and conditions to be met. Sometimes she really could just accept what she was given, and it felt as a weight lifted from her shoulders when she finally answered Anna. “Okay.”

#Elsanna #fanfic #Elsa #Anna #fluff

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knightwinddragon · 7 months

Text

Deserved

Here's a little something that I just had to write.

TW - Animal Cruelty, Mentions of death.

Just imagine, you're out there completely alone in a world where everyone either hates you or is scared of you. You grow up on the streets, barely surviving, always starving. You don't know when your next meal will be, or if there ever will be a next one. You can't speak, you can't understand what the others are saying. You can't ask for help because if you do they hurt you. Even if you mind your own business, they still hurt you. They break your skin, your bones, your heart, your spirit. But you still go on, hoping against everything that maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to fill that mysterious hole in your heart that craves something that you know nothing of, all you are aware of is it desperately needs something, crying out to reach an unknown goal, trying to regain what was gone forever.

There once was a mother, you remember, and brothers and sisters in a small home. You and your siblings, with that painful, gnawing hunger in your little tummies, and your mother trying her best to care for you. Although among all that pain and suffering, you clearly remember there was happiness too. Then came the monsters.

There were countless shadows lurking around your home that day, an and you remember your senses screaming at you to run, to hide, to be anywhere but here. There entering your home, were some of those large beings that you regularly saw, with huge sticks in their hands, and a darkness in their eyes that, to this day, still send chills down your spine. Your mother, fierce as she was, didn't stand a chance against those bloodthirsty predators. You remember running in blind panic, fear coursing through your veins, biting and scratching anyone who tried to grab you with their disgusting skinny claws. You ran and you ran, leaving behind all you'd ever known. Life may have been hard back then as well, but your had your family with you and that was enough. Now you are alone, with the heart wrenching screams of pure unadulterated pain and fear of your family burned into your mind, forever haunting your every waking hour.

Maybe that feeling of love, of belonging, of Family is what your heart is begging for, but does it truly matter anymore? Is hurt and misery all you were born to feel? What kind of existence even is this, you wonder. You see those monsters around you, hurting you, hating you, and why? Just because you want to live too? You think, "When I die, I hope I won't have to suffer anymore." You don't ask for happiness, you know that was never something you deserved.

Alrighty then, I'm done. If you haven't figured out yet, this is a dog's perspective. While obviously this isn't a real event, it definitely is based on one. There was a school (I won't name it) where in a storage shed or something a dog gave birth to puppies. The principal of the school didn't like that, and (unofficially) ordered the administration team to get rid of them. The administration team told some high school boys to get rid of them and what they proceeded to do next absolutely breaks my heart. They went inside holding bats and beat the mother as well as all of her babies to death and recorded the whole thing and posted it on social media. Those filthy monsters had the audacity to laugh when you can clearly hear the mother and babies wailing. No soul survived (and I am saying that because those monsters definitely don't have souls). No justice was served.

It makes me so sad that tragedies like these are starting to become an every day occurrence. I hate it so much. Sometimes even thinking about what the stray animals (like dogs and cates) go through is too much for me to handle. We domesticated them, and then abandoned them. I have personally faced so many people who just was to hurt them for no reason. My own dog, while he was peeing on my property was hit in the face with a big rock and almost lost an eye, just because a man didn't like him. One of my neighbours tried to kill a stray dog that we feed, and his reason just boils my blood with so much anger. Him and his family teach their kids to hit dogs with rocks and stuff. They never listened to us when we said not to do that. The dog (who btw was just a puppy then) grew tired of the constant abuse from these a**holes, and started barking at and chasing the kids (only when they came close to our house), never even tried to bite them, just scare them, and what do they do? Try to kill her. And you know what the cherry on the top is? The police in this country don't even know what the f*cking laws are against animal cruelty. And I'm not making random claims, I have personally heard them admit they don't know. I know so many animal activists all around the country facing the exact same issues, the police don't know the law and they hate these animals.

Ok my rant is done. Sorry, I really needed to do this, instead of bottling it all up. I have so many stories to tell though.

#don't hurt animals #animal abuse #stray dogs #murder #mention of torture #torture #stop animal cruelty #stop animal abuse #animal cruelty #tw animal death #tw animal abuse #short story #sad #dogs #save stray animals #help those in need

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trylkstopocket · 1 year

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Remove these 10 toxic phrases from your vocabulary, say career experts: They’re ‘cold and belittling’

cnbc.com

Ideally, in every workplace interaction — meetings, phone calls, emails, small talk — our conversations would be positive and constructive.

But that’s not always the case. Discussions can be cold and belittling, turning into vehicles for toxic culture — particularly when people make comments about race, gender, age, ability and orientation that undermine personal identities.

Want to stop gnawing at people’s sense of safety and value? Remove these 10 toxic phrases from your vocabulary:

1. “We’ve always done it this way.”

This says that you have a fixed mindset and are resistant to change or suggestions. Because you’re hinting that nothing is wrong with the current standard, you risk stifling motivation and innovation.

What to say instead: “We’ve always done it this way, but let’s see if it’s time to change practices.”

2. “Back in my day, we had it worse.”

This says that suffering should be expected, as if the pain of the past justifies the pain of today. When used, it silences the person who voices a problem.

What to say instead: “Back in my day, we had it much worse, and I’m so glad it’s better for you. What can we change to make it even better?”

3. “It’s best to keep our salary information private.”

This says that you protect special deals and do not value transparency. As a result, particular groups (e.g. women and racial minorities) are left vulnerable to pay disparities.

Keeping salaries a secret decreases employee performance, studies show. It can also lead to suspicion that there is a lack of accountability with salary gaps.

What to say instead: “It’s important to have open conversations about salary.”

4. “We went with [X person] because they have more experience.”

This messaging ignores the fact that experience can be dependent on privilege and access, and that different people begin races at different starting lines. When experience is prioritized over potential and motivation, diversity is undermined.

What to say instead: ”[X person] has more experience and will have other opportunities. We went with [Y person] based upon their strong potential.”

5. “We don’t have term limits.”

This says that you are maintaining the status quo, and that current leaders deserve their positions indefinitely.

Change in culture sometimes requires a change at the top. And establishing a rotating leadership system with term limits actually promotes workplace diversity.

What to say instead: “We value giving everyone a turn. Individuals and organizations grow with rotating leadership.”

6. “Can you document that incident in an email?”

This says that disclosure of an incident may not be confidential or anonymous. While certain things do need to be reported, when the system requires you to document details, one worries about retaliation.

That fear of consequence can decrease the likelihood of reporting altogether.

What to say instead: “Let’s come up with wording that keeps you protected and focuses on the issue.”

7. ”[X person] didn’t mean what they said.”

This essentially translates to: “I hear your complaint, but I am protecting the other person and discrediting you.” Rather than providing support or validating vulnerability, you are gaslighting with the “good guy” defense.

What to say instead: “Thank you for sharing this. Let’s figure out a way to support you and address his behavior.”

8. “I’m not feeling too well. But I’ll try to power through the day.”

This says that you neglect your own health. Boasting about working through pain, infection or a mental health crisis is not a badge of honor.

It also disempowers people who take care of themselves. We must care for the self physically, mentally and emotionally.

What to say instead: “I need to take it easy today, so I’m taking a sick day.”

9. “Keep this between us, as it’s not my news to share.”

This says that you are knowingly compromising privacy and trust. Gossip is universal, so it’s hard to change this behavior. But it compromises both the person who is sharing and the person about whom the information is being shared.

What to say instead: “It is best for me to keep the information about them private. I recommend reaching out to them directly.”

10. “Can you send it to me tonight?”

This says that you don’t respect boundaries. Sure, deadlines can be critical and exceptions can be made. However, the persistent demand for our personal time breeds resentment and burnout, especially if this time is uncompensated.

What to say instead: “Since the workday is over, we can pick this up tomorrow.”

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demigod4-life · 2 years

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Headcanon Time! (Who bites)

So, I have this thing where if I really like you I wanna like…bite you. Just a gentle little nom on your shoulder or something. Idk, it’s probably some weird ADHD way of expressing affection but that’s what I do. So here’s who I think does that when they’re overwhelmed with love and other emotions. This is based on my favorite ships and OTPs!

Harley/ Ivy: Harley for sure does it. She’ll just randomly hug Ivy and nom on her shoulder or something. She’ll bat her eyes and go “bite?” And Ivy just sighs and accepts the little bite. She’ll do anything to give her little crazy girlfriend a bit of serotonin. Of course, sometimes she has to remind Harley to be gentle when things get a little ‘steamy’.

Percy/Annabeth; Honestly I see them both doing it at different times. Annabeth does it when stressed and Percy does it when excited. He’ll be so happy about Annabeth playing with his hair or something that he’ll just take her hand and lightly bite at her wrist. Annabeth will get stressed but instead of biting Percy she just kind of bites at herself. For instance, if she rests her chin on her arm while working on something and gets frustrated she’ll lightly bite at her arm.

Natasha(Black Widow)/ Steve (Captain America): Natasha does this for sure but more as a joke. She does it whenever they’re together and Steve does something really endearing. She just grabs his arm and bites at him. It’s hilarious to everyone else, and for a while Steve was absolutely mortified by it but now he expects it.

Thalia/Reyna: Thalia is the biter 100%. You cannot tell me otherwise. She does it completely at random without much rhyme or reason. It’s based solely on impulse. She’s a neck/shoulder biter and Reyna likes to make fun of her by calling her a “fake vampire”. Percy gets it though. It’s their little secret.

Zoë/Artemis: Yes, Artemis is the biter. Zoë calls it ‘nipping’ and is so used to it that she barely even notices it anymore. It’s hilarious though because she can tell when Artemis gets the urge and does everything in her power not to indulge in it. Sometimes when the moon goddess just can’t take it anymore she casually turns into a wolf and starts lightly gnawing on whatever body part Zoë is willing to let her have. Truthfully, Artemis even does it to Apollo at times when he lets her. Of course, he was super confused and had to ask Zoë about it.

Ty Lee/Azula: Ty Lee is full of quirky little traits so what’s one more? At first, Azula didn’t really get it but it made Ty Lee happy so she just let her do it. After a while it became so natural that Azula would just look at the acrobat and go “alright, you can bite.” Of course, Zuko thought it was really fucking weird until Ty Lee started doing it to him too. Turns out, it’s just a thing Ty Lee does for people she really likes and is super comfortable with. It actually makes Mai smile, but everyone knows Azula is the primary target of said ‘bites’.

Raven/Starfire: Guess what? They both do it. The demon half of Raven is more than happy to get away with ‘somewhat chewing’ on her girlfriend who is too strong to even notice or care. Sometimes, the little demon half of Raven’s brain likes to see how hard she can bite (within reason of course). However, it was Starfire that started this weird little love language. At first, Raven assumed it was a Tameranean thing until she discovered from Robin that it, in fact, isn’t. It’s just a Starfire thing. Naturally, Starfire was pretty embarrassed about it until Raven started doing it back. Now, it’s just a silly little thing they do to each other.

Kya/Lin: Kya is the biter and she 100% gets it from her father. Literally, it just makes sense. I don’t think I even need to elaborate. Look at her and tell me she doesn’t bite people for fun.

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silversatoru · 3 years

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Hello! I wanted to request for a chubby reader x Levi oneshot. I feel like there aren’t many stories that have chubby readers ): As for the storyline, I’m not sure if it falls in the angst or hurt/comfort category. It would be the reader feeling insecure about themselves because they have a harder time training than the others (them blaming it on their own weight) and seeing how everyone is much thinner than them, they start avoiding food. To not make it look suspicious, they’d go into the kitchen alone and put the food away along with the left overs. The reader would act normal with Levi and he doesn’t suspect anything at first. Later on, the reader would push themselves harder to the point where they’d train on their own whenever they had to chance so they can lose weight and improve their training. At this point, Levi starts noticing the reader looking paler than usual and the slight difference in their weight. One day during training, the reader ends up fainting from exhaustion and dehydration. They wake up on Levis’s bed with him looking over them. He asks what happened and the reader lies by saying they didn’t drink enough water. Levi calls it bs and ask if they think he’s stupid and goes on to tell them about how they noticed the reader sneaking off into the kitchen with a plate and coming out without it. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but he started putting the pieces together. They end up telling Levi the truth, the way they feel towards themself and how they don’t like the fact that they’re bigger than Levi. He comforts the reader and lets them know that they’re an idiot for thinking that way, etc. Thank you! I’m so sorry if it sounds so cheesy!

hello dear!! i dont think your idea was cheesy at all, i love it actually. these kind of issues live very close to my heart, so writing about them is always really fun for me. that being said,, this fic definitely got very dark and very real, and i would advise everyone to read the warnings before deciding to read this <33

empty

levi ackerman x gn!reader

synopsis: levi catches you skipping meals and does what he can to help

tags/warnings: eating disorder, skipping meals, hurt/comfort, but it does have a happy ending!

word count: 2.2k

Throbbing headaches and hollow, gnawing pains in your stomach — they’ve quickly become your new normal. You see everything through a hazy fog these days, nothing feels real and everything hurts but it’s worth it — that’s what you keep saying to yourself. You’re tired of lacking the same agility, momentum, and grace that your thinner counterparts have.

Your weight was always something that ate away at the back of your head, but joining the scout regiment multiplied it tenfold. You were constantly working twice as hard as your fellow scouts, and it seemed like it was never enough. Everyone around you was not only ridiculously athletic, but so fucking thin. You didn’t hate your comrades for their bodies and the way they were born, but you made up for it by inflicting all of the hate onto yourself.

You wonder if anyone notices your zombie eyes or the abnormal paleness to your face — god, you hope they don’t. The last thing you want to do is have to confront your feelings and admit what you’ve been doing lately. Every night you shamefully sneak back into the kitchen and pour your plate of food into the large pot of leftovers. You pick at food here and there when your friends are watching, but behind closed doors you haven’t eaten much of anything lately. Your body is running on empty, and it’s only a matter of time before it fully catches up to you.

You hear your last name echo from across the training fields, slowly turning around to see an angry captain sulking towards you. His face was twisted into an unpleasant grimace, his eyebrows knitted together into what almost looked like concern.

“I’m excusing you from the remainder of training, leave,” his words were flat, but there was a subtle emotional edge.

“Sorry, what?” you gave him a confused look — Captain Levi never excused anyone from training, not unless they were practically on their deathbed.

“Go home, and eat a big dinner tonight, your energy has been less than adequate lately,” his face softened slightly, “I expect you to be back to normal by tomorrow. Your skills and abilities are needed here, so go get some rest and be better tomorrow, yeah?”

“But, I-,” you stammered, trying to come up with some kind of valid excuse.

“That’s an order, cadet”.

His words surprised you, and before you could even rack your brain for an appropriate way to respond, he was turned on his heels and walking away. You swallowed thickly, your throat dry and stuffed full with anxiety.

Reluctantly, you followed his orders and made your way back to the Scout’s base early. You grabbed a stack of fresh clothing from your room before heading to the showers and scrubbing yourself free of all the sweat and grime from training. You were careful to avoid mirrors when you navigated bathrooms, and tonight was no exception, your eyes glued to the tiled floor. After showering, you hesitantly walked to the kitchen, preparing a plate of food and bringing it back to your room.

That food stared you in the eyes for hours, taunting you and teasing you and making intense nausea creep up your spine. Tears were stinging the backs of your eyes and your lungs were shaking with heavy, anxiety-filled breaths. You couldn't do it, and you were overwhelmed with shame and guilt. If you couldn’t do it for Levi, you were hopeless that you’d be able to do it for anyone, never mind for yourself.

After making countless pitiful attempts to take a bite of your untouched meal, you decided it was going back into the leftover pot — just like everything else. The other scouts should have returned and been sleeping by now anyway, you’d just silently creep down the hallway, dump the food, and creep back, no harm no foul.

Except for that a certain short, dark-haired captain was standing at the end of the hallway — you didn't notice him, but he certainly noticed you. A boiling anger rippled up inside him as he felt an overwhelming disappointment in your actions. He’d been suspecting this kind of behavior for a while now, but watching you tip-toe down the hall and into the kitchen with an uneaten plate of food confirmed all of his suspicions.

You could barely crawl out of bed the next morning, your ribs aching and your head pounding with a dull pain. You grasped at your tall dresser, catching your balance as you dangerously swayed back and forth for a few seconds. After regaining consciousness and stability you carefully changed into your uniform, having to stop and take breaks every few seconds because you were running out of breath. Your body felt utterly devoid of any kind of energy, and you wondered — when was the last time I actually ate something?

It was far enough back that you couldn’t quite remember, maybe a few days at this point, you really weren’t sure anymore. You’d have to suck it up for training though, because the last thing you wanted was to be confronted by the captain again.

You chugged back a full glass of water before lacing up your boots and throwing on a convincing facade. People don’t seem to notice something is wrong as long as you're smiling, laughing, and going along with what they say — it’s easy enough to fly under the radar of your fellow scouts.

Levi’s radar is a little sharper though, and he keeps a close eye on you from the second you walk up to the training grounds. He’s disappointed in your hand to hand combat — it’s sloppy, slow, predictable. Your hands look shaky too, and maybe it's the light playing tricks on him but it looks like the color is draining from your face.

Things are feeling deplorable on your side — you can barely stand anymore, never mind throw punches or avoid the oncoming attacks. Your vision was starting to tunnel, foggy black surrounding your periphery as you began to lose feeling in your fingertips. You tried desperately to cling onto whatever semblance of consciousness you had left, but failed miserably, your body collapsing to the hard earth beneath you.

The soft glow of warm candles illuminated the walls around you when you finally woke up from the earlier incident. This wasn’t your room, where the hell were you? You uncomfortably shifted to the side and flinched when you saw your captain sitting in a chair in front of you. His arms were crossed and one of his legs was propped on top of the other, an icey look in his eyes.

“What happened today?” His words were very short and his tone was flooded with irritation — he didn’t even give you a chance to take in your surroundings.

“Ah- I didn’t sleep well last night,” you lied, “And maybe I haven’t been drinking enough water or something”.

“I’m offended that you think I would fall for such a pitiful lie,” He clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “I saw you sneak into the kitchen last night, how long have you been doing that?”

Your eyes grew wide with anxiety, your heart abruptly dropping to the floor — you made sure to go extra late last night, why the hell was he still up?

You stayed quiet for a moment, pondering over how honest you should be with Levi right now. The two of you had always been a little closer than he was with the other scouts, but unfortunately there was no room for things like love in this world. You also assumed that maybe he never reciprocated your feelings because of your weight — but that was just more toxic fuel to the fire blossoming in your head.

“Pretty long,” you sighed, ultimately deciding to be fully honest with him, because knowing Levi, he’d continue to see right through your lies anyway.

“I figured,” He grumbled, uncrossing his legs and leaning back into his chair, “Why?”

“Everyone around me is thin, I stick out. And, I’m not as agile or flexible as the other scouts either. I just thought that maybe...,” you bit down hard on your bottom lip, rolling onto your back so you wouldn’t have to look at him, “I thought my weight bothered you too, and also that I’d be more useful to the scouts if I was skinnier”.

“You think I’d like you better if you were dead?” Levi was leaning closer now, heat boiling in his eyes, “Because that’s where you’re headed right now. If you truly think you’ll be more helpful to the scouts when you’re six feet under, you’re delusional. And who the hell gave you the idea that your weight bothered me?”

His harsh words were cold slap in the face, your eyes burning and threatening to spill over with tears. You didn’t want to die, not really, you just didn’t want to hate yourself anymore.

“No one! I don’t know, I just thought, maybe because I was bigger than you-,” You continued to stammer over your words, tears beginning to leak down your cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter,” he waved you off, not wanting to push the issue further, “You’re wrong, and I’m hurt that you’d even think that. I’ve never once thought that you were anything other than the way you should be”.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was weak and shaky, but your heart was pounding against your chest at his words.

“I’m not the person you should be apologizing to, that’s something you owe to yourself” he shook his head and stood up to retrieve two small bowls of food from a nearby table, “I brought you something to eat”.

You watched him intently, pondering over his words about apologizing to yourself.

“It’s only a bowl of soup, so you can start small, yeah?” He offered one of the bowls to you, which you hesitantly took into your hands as you sat up.

He sat down again across from you again, leaning back and taking a sip of broth from his bowl. You were grateful that he was here, that he was eating with you — it made things a little easier. You grasped the spoon in your hands and scooped up some brothy vegetables before lifting them into your mouth.

“Good, finish the bowl,” nodded at you, giving you a reassuring look and lifting his own bowl to his lips again.

The two of you ate in silence until you were finished, and then he sat the bowls back on his nightstand before finding a seat next to you on his bed.

“Stay here tonight,” he stared at you with his signature tired eyes, but there were hints of concern laced through them now, “We’ll have breakfast together in the morning”.

“Okay,” you gave him a weak nod, trying desperately to bottle up your growing emotions, but they were becoming too much to bear.

Small sobs began to rack through your body, your chest tightening and your stomach lurching with anxiety. You were experiencing so many feelings tonight — eating for the first time in days and being here with Levi, it was overwhelming to say the least.

You could barely see the captain through your blurry vision, but you could feel his arms maneuver themselves around you and pull you against his chest. You stayed like that for a while, Levi’s arms delicately holding you in place while quiet sobs worked their way out of your lips.

“You’ve dug yourself into a deep hole, I won’t lie to you,” you heard him let out a tired sigh, “And it’s gonna take time and effort for you to dig your way out, but you’ll get there. We’ll start by having breakfast and dinner together every night, how does that sound? Just you and me, no one else has to watch”.

You nuzzled a tiny nod into his chest, your tears finally running dry. It was a terrifying thought, eating normal again, but you were starting to feel hopeful that you might actually be able to do it.

And so the two of you met every morning and every evening for your scheduled meals, and day by day things began to get easier. You even found yourself staying over in Levi’s room after dinner and into the morning for breakfast sometimes. Spending so much time together was definitely pushing the two of you to address the feelings you’d been hiding for so long.

But not everything was perfect, it would be irrational to think it would be. You still have bad nights, where eating is so hard you break down into tears, and where you want nothing more than to rid yourself of the food in your system. It’s a draining process, but Levi works hard to make sure you stay on track with your progress.

It’s slow, but eventually your face starts to glow again, your skin gets smooth and soft, and the aching pains in your body start to fade. Your war with your body is far from over, but you’re doing what you can, and you’re healing yourself one day at a time.

thank u for reading this, and now i would like to give you a gentle reminder to do something nice for your body today. eating disorders and mental illnesses are huge mountains to climb over, but taking things one day at a time makes it a little easier. try and eat a meal today (even if it’s small), go to sleep early and get some rest, take a shower and rub lotion all over your legs so they feel nice against your blankets when you lay in bed. baby steps are better than no steps at all, so be patient with yourself. n go drink some water, ur body loves that shit

#attack on titan #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x gn!reader #hurt/comfort #angst #levi hurt comfort #attack on titan x gn!reader

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cloudy-leonhart · 3 years

Note

hiii!! i’ve recently found your writing and i am honest to god in love!! i was wondering if you could write a poly!veterans fic where the reader is a titan shifter (the vets don’t know), and during a really rough expedition she has no choice but to transform and help out?

NO BC I LOVE PPL WHO ASK FOR POLY VETS REQUESTS—

I’ll also just add another titan to the nine titans- kinda like annie’s :P

guys don’t be shy to request anything! I’m fine with anything sfw :33!!

———

Save My Home. (Poly!Vets x Reader)

Summary: Reader and the Vets were in a losing situation, if Reader didn’t make a choice, her lovers will perish, she didn’t realize her feelings had made the choice for her

female reader.

Recommended Song: Ballad of Mona Lisa - Panic At The Disco.

Theme: Angst/Fluff?? Canonverse.

TW: Near death experience, injury, swearing, blood(?).

“Captain!” A voice shouted out, you scowled swinging around the tall trees, an expedition had gone so wrong. Bodies pooled the forest floor, you tried your best to get the metallic stench out of your nose, large footsteps followed your every move. “Johann!” You pulled on your trigger, saving your only remaining member of your squad.

Your fingers clutched tightly against his waist, hoping that you’ll have enough gas to pull yourself and Johann to a safe spot. “Captain, I don’t think we’ll make it.” Johann grimly stated. He was in pain and he could see you were running out of gas to get you back near Commander Erwin’s base.

“Shut it, Johann! We’ll get there, you hear me!?” You did your best trying to convince Johann and yourself that you will live to be out that forest. Damn it, why did so many titans come out from nowhere? You felt angered and stopped at a high branch.

“Johann, I’ll bring more gas, alright? Try your best to stay alive, that’s an order.” You had placed Johann against the tree, checking your gas canister. He tugged on your uniform, afraid. “I’ll come back, I promise.” You reassured him, tying your jacket around his bleeding leg as a tourniquet.

You flung around the forest, a determination to find at least some kind of supplies to keep you guys going just until you were out the forest, you had already stolen a gas canister from a dead soldier, your blades were close to blunting. You were on your last string.

It felt like hours you’ve been swinging around, ‘damn it, where are they?’ You swung on one more tree branch, before hearing a yell.

You used your gear to swing towards the sound, titans were everywhere, reaching and grabbing for you.

“Reader!” A voice called out, a deserted Hange stood on a tree branch, waving frantically. With them, held an injured Nanaba, and beside them stood Levi, Erwin and Miche, who looked like they were arguing. You landed on a tree branch that was a bit higher than them.

“What the hell’s going on?!” You exclaimed, making all five of them stop their squirming and their childish screeching. “Reader! Have you seen a cart anywhere?” Erwin yelled up at you, you winced, grappling your hook onto their tree branch and jumping on.

“There’s no cart anywhere, where I came from. Don’t tell me,” You sighed, “we lost the supply cart?” your lovers looked at each other with a guilty expression, “No worries, we can just-” The tree branch shook. Everyone stopped their movements, checking around, seeing what was happening.

“Guys, get off the branch! A fifteen meter got on, it’s about to break!” Levi warned and jumped off the branch, hooking himself to the bark of a tree so he could land down on the ground safely.

“Hange, go! I’ll carry Nanaba.” You ordered, grabbing Nanaba from their arms, Your blonde lover groaned in your arms, clutching her side more tightly.

“It’s okay, Nanaba, I got you.” You comforted her before landing on the ground safely with your other lovers. Miche came towards you, helping you with Nanaba before greeting you with a kiss on the cheek, as a way to say he was glad that you were safe.

“Levi, have you got no blades left?” You asked, staring at his empty blade holster. “Yeah, I spent it on the last few, everybody else is just stuck on gas.” You internally groaned. “Alright how about this-” You could hear a loud roar from the female titan, your eyes widened.

‘Is she calling in more titans?!’ you had thought gripping your gear’s handles tightly, your mind raced on how your lovers were going to survive another wave of titans.

“Reader? What’s wrong?” Hange asked you, their hand littered on your shoulder, rubbing it in comforting circles as you stay internally panicking at the female titan’s screech.

“Hange- I need you to take my gas canister and reconnect it to you. It’s got enough for you to grapple on a tree branch and bring the others on there.” Hange stood speechless, what were you thinking of doing?

“Reader, what are you talking about?” Hange asked as you frantically unbuckled your ODM gear, thrusting the canister into their arms. You pulled your hunting knife from out of your boot, holding onto it for dear life. “Reader, you’re not going to survive with just a-” Hange held your hand, stopping you from moving further.

“Hange, just go!” You yelled at them, out of a state of panic. Hange pulled back, a bit shocked on how shaken you are with just hearing a titan’s roar. Levi could overhear the arguing, he looked over to you and Hange who just seemingly nodded and grabbed hold of Levi’s waist.

An unreadable expression painted Hange’s face, as they flew onto a high enough tree branch. “Hange, what-” Levi started, not even finishing his question as they turned back with Miche and Nanaba. Erwin being the last one on the branch.

“Reader? What about her?” Nanaba’s coarse voice cut through the tension, “She just said to bring you guys up here, not to come back for her.” Hange explained, further tending to Nanaba’s wounds. Levi’s eyes widened, even twitching before grabbing hold of Hange’s cape.

“You left Reader there to die?” He spat angrily, as Hange grunted pulling against him. “She said to!” Levi shook them by the cape, “And you agreed to it!?” Hange started to fight with Levi, “I didn’t want to, alright?!” Their fight was soon interrupted by a loud thunderclap.

A yellow bolt of lightning had struck where you once stood, a titan’s shape started to appear from where you were, starting from the nape, and it’s muscles forming lastly from the foot. A loud roar which shook the forest came out from the titan’s mouth.

Your lovers stood on the branch speechless and flabbergasted, their hearts started to beat erratically. Erwin started to speak, “That..That’s not her, right?” Your body was covered with steaming hot muscles, your eyes glanced at the still group on the branch, who stared at you with bewilderment, almost even amazement by Hange.

A screech had erupted from your side, a twenty-meter mindless titan held onto you, gnawing on your skin. Your skin hardened in a matter of seconds, your first turned to crystal, punching through the titan’s neck, cutting the titan’s head clean off.

You were still trying to control your titan and a bad side effect of that, was your lack of capability in controlling your titan, you started to black out, starting to rampage with the titans called in by the female titan, your eyes started to get clouded, more and more titans had toppled over you, starting to consider that you were a threat.

You had fallen to the ground, you turned over to the where your lovers resided, seeing a bunch of soldiers replacing their gas tanks, symbolizing that they were safe and had enough to get out of the situation, you could see a figure approach you as your vision blacked out.

You felt tired, closing your eyes, almost accepting your fate that you might get eaten.

---

Your body twitched, suddenly, you awoke, too fast for your liking, since as soon as your eyes refocused on what you saw, a headache came crashing down on you, a wince had left your lips, as you clutched your hands around your head, feeling a thick layer of gauze. “What..is going on?” You grunted, turning over to the side of the bed, your feet dangled off the medical bed as you pulled away the thin covers.

“Oh jeez, please don’t move, you’re going to further damage or maybe even re-open your wounds,” your nurse called out, urging you to lay back down. “Thank the walls you’re still okay, Captain Reader!” She chirped, helping you drink water, knowing how dry your throat probably was.

You were about to speak when you saw a group lay on the ground, sleeping. The nurse noticed your gaze on the sleeping group. “They’ve been there since you were admitted a few days ago, except one of course, she lays on the bed beside you, still taking a nap..” She whispered, careful not to wake your lovers who slept like little babies.

You stared in amazement as you even saw Levi leaning against the wall, soft snores leaving his mouth, indicating that he was dead asleep. You looked behind you, Nanaba sleeping in the bed beside yours, so soundlessly. You could feel your lips lift a little, making a little smile appear on your face.

“I’ll get you some food, alright? I’ll be right back.” The nurse gave you a smile before leaving the room, the door closing alerting Nanaba awake. She woke up, a pained whine leaving her lips as she clutched her side, you laughed silently.

“Careful, you might re-open your stitches.” You mumbled out, as you watched Nanaba freeze as her face went through five stages of confusion. “wait a min- Holy shit! You’re awake, Reader!” She yelled out, spooking the group. You winced at the loud tone of her voice, as she yelled out a pitchy screech leaving her bed to jump at you.

A yelp left your mouth, as you caught Nanaba’s fast-approaching lunge in your arms, laughing at her. Hange was the second to be up and running. “Reader! You’re awake!” They chirped as they too, joined in on the hug you and Nanaba were sharing.

“Oi brat, you try and do that shit again, I’ll never forgive you.” Levi’s voice cut through your laughs, you stopped for a second before going back to laughing and whining as Levi ruffled your hair.

“You never told me you could shift into a titan like the Jaeger kid.” Levi said, as they were all huddled onto your bed. Miche had sat behind you so you could lay on his chest as Nanaba and Hange cuddled each other between your legs, leaving Erwin on a chair at the side of your bed, and Levi sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Honestly, I didn’t want to.” You confessed, playing with Hange’s hair. “I’m not even supposed to be alive right now,” You mumbled, starting to space out. Levi and Erwin’s eyes widened at your statement, you continued, not giving them a chance to talk. “Well! I’m still here though! So, I’m not done annoying you all just yet!” A laugh left your mouth.

Levi and Erwin looked at each other with a questioning glance. Both of them didn’t bother to ask, setting it aside for later, as they both wanted to spend time with you after you had stayed in bed for more than two days. Both watched you laugh, a question on their minds.

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handwrittenhello · 2 years

Text

put your loving hand out 1/?

Relationships: Jaskier/Yennefer, eventual Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer Rating: E Summary: When a pregnant Jaskier is abandoned by Geralt atop the mountain, Yennefer knows that taking him in is only the decent thing to do, really. Who would leave a vulnerable omega to fend for themselves? But her instincts want more than she's willing to take, and soon she must fight not to catch feelings for him, even though he's funny and sweet and so good with the baby and—Oh fuck. And when Geralt reenters the picture, full of remorse over his rash dismissal of Jaskier—well, two alphas, an omega, and a baby? Sounds like a recipe for disaster. Or the beginning of something wonderful.

first | next read chapter 1 here on ao3 or below:

Yennefer can’t believe it when she smells it. She’d missed it back at the tavern at the foot of the mountain, nose too inundated with the smells of everyone there, especially Eyck’s overpowering virile stink, but it’s undeniable once they’re in the middle of the woods, preparing to go up the mountain. Geralt smells the same as ever, his ozone-sharp alpha scent unchanging through the decades, but Jaskier’s normal flowery omega scent has turned sickly sweet, hints of milk and honey underlaying it all. He’s fucking glowing, for gods’ sakes.

“The crow’s feet are new,” she jibes, instead of acknowledging the near-certainty that the bard is pregnant. An old, familiar jealousy sweeps through her, but she bites it back like she always has when faced with a more fortunate parent-to-be than her.

It gets harder to ignore, though, as his pregnancy-ripe scent follows them up the mountain. It’s almost nauseating, and she takes to goading him into fights just so that the scent of his offense will dim it a little.

Whose child is it, she wonders? It can’t be Geralt’s—even if witchers weren’t sterile, his abandonment of his Child Surprise speaks to how little he cares for them. It isn’t any of her business, really, but her curiosity is burning.

She doesn’t get a chance to find out. After they reach the peak and Borch reveals the truth of the djinn wish, she’s so angry she can’t even think. Betrayal gnaws deep in her stomach, her hands shaking as she summons a portal to the base of the mountain. Though it’s still early, the inn is open and the barkeep is willing to serve her as much drink as she can pay for.

She drinks, the sun sets, and at some point, when the world grows too blurry, she stumbles upstairs to a room and passes out.

She’s still a bit drunk when she wakes up hours later, just as the sun is rising. She doesn’t know quite why she’s awake, and is rather displeased by the fact, until she realizes that she can hear a very familiar, too-loud voice coming from downstairs. She groans.

“Please, my good man, I just need somewhere to sleep. It doesn’t even have to be a room—I’ll sleep in the stables if you let me,” Jaskier is pleading. She can’t hear the innkeep’s reply, but it’s obviously nothing favorable, for she hears dejected footsteps heading out of the inn shortly after.

She lies there for a moment, cursing everyone and everything. Then she banishes the last of the alcohol from her system with a wave of magic and gets up.

Jaskier has almost reached the end of the road out of town by the time she catches up to him. “Oh great, it’s you,” he says, with no inflection. “I’m really not in the mood.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks bluntly. “Where’s your witcher?” She didn’t think even a cruel bastard like Geralt was fool enough to leave a pregnant omega wandering the streets alone.

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “He's not my witcher. Maybe he never was.”

“What did he do?” she asks, suddenly furious.

“I’d really rather not talk about it,” he sighs, closing his eyes, and it’s then that she notices how tired he looks. Did he walk all night to get down the mountain? He must have, to have made it here so quickly.

“Come with me,” she orders, leading him back to the inn. The innkeep frowns when he sees Jaskier again, but she glares—he’s the one who threw out a pregnant omega—and doesn’t stop.

“Inviting me to bed?” Jaskier cracks a hollow grin when she ushers him into her room.

“Go to sleep,” she tosses back, and he doesn’t hesitate before stripping off his boots and doublet and climbing into bed. His pleased hum when he settles into the soft sheets makes her long dormant alpha instincts rise.

It’s just biology, is all. He’s still the annoying bard she had to save from the brink of death, and any pride she feels at having provided for him, any pleasure at seeing him safe and sleeping, is just hormones getting the best of her. Besides, he already has a mate—whoever put that baby inside of him. And she has no desire to tie herself to him.

She’s sure that he’ll be back to annoying the shit out of her as soon as he wakes up.

While Jaskier sleeps, Yennefer plans. She can’t leave Jaskier alone, to fend for himself—even she isn’t that cruel.

She doubts he’s seen a healer in the time since becoming pregnant—he isn’t that far along, after all, and she knows his tendency to follow Geralt through all manner of wilderness, straying far from proper civilization for weeks if not months at a time. The likelihood of finding a healer who specializes in omega health and reproduction in these backwoods towns this far north is very low.

So, first things first, she’ll have to make sure he and the babe are healthy. Then, more long term, she has to find a place for them to stay—someplace he’ll be comfortable as his pregnancy progresses. Then there’s the matter of actually preparing for the child itself—a crib and nappies and baby clothes and toys and all manner of other things that make her head spin to think about.

There are those pesky alpha instincts again, the urge to provide and protect rearing its head. He isn’t even her mate—does he know what power he holds over her? The lure of an unmated pregnant omega is strong.

As if he can sense her thoughts, he shifts in bed, throwing one hand up to cover his eyes and resting the other on the slight swell of his stomach. Mine, protect, mate, screams her alpha side. She swallows it down. While she may have the duty of caring for him, she has no right to demand anything in reciprocation. She wouldn’t want anything offered in reciprocation—that would be too easy, too cheap. Besides, it’s not like she wants anything to do with him anyway—it’s just her ridiculous instincts.

She leaves the room and goes downstairs to the dining room. It’s approaching noon now, Jaskier having slept several hours, and she suspects that he’ll be starving when he wakes. She orders two plates of food to bring upstairs, and then on reflection, orders a third for him.

Jaskier is just starting to stir when she enters, and the tantalizing aroma of roasted meat and vegetables rouses him further.

“Mm, is that chicken?” he mumbles, sitting up and scrubbing a hand through his hair. It has the hilarious effect of making him look like he’s just finished an intense session of nesting, and that thought suddenly turns dangerously endearing.

“And vegetables. The baby needs the vitamins,” she says, placing two plates in front of him and the other one on the small table in the corner, where she sits and begins to eat.

Jaskier makes a happy little sound that goes right to her hindbrain and digs in. He gets about three bites in before he goes pale and drops his fork. It’s all the warning she has before he throws up everything he’s eaten, which is actually precious little. With a quick wave of her hand, she yanks the plates away and vanishes the sick before it can get everywhere.

Through his retching, Jaskier manages to choke out, “Can you—the chicken—” and she suddenly understands. Morning sickness is a bitch and a half, and the smell of the food can’t be doing him any favors. She tosses the chicken into the fire, though she’s a little peeved at the loss of good meat, but if it’ll stop him emptying his guts onto the inn floor, well, needs must.

His retching has died down to just gagging, now. Feeling somewhat awkward, Yennefer sits down next to him and rests a hand on his back. He seems to draw comfort from the contact, at least, and it’s only another few minutes before he can collect himself.

“Eurgh,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Yennefer’s nose wrinkles, and she leans over to grab a handkerchief for him instead. “Thanks. Always the most disgusting part of my day,” he mutters. “Guess I have to add chicken to the list of foods I’ll miss, now.”

“You keep a list?”

“I have to, otherwise I’d never keep anything down. The worst offenders are venison and mushrooms, though on a bad day fish will set me off too.”

She grimaces. She’ll have to be careful about what she serves him from now on. “Are you feeling well enough to eat the vegetables, at least? You must be hungry.”

“I’ll give it a try,” he says cautiously, and then proceeds to devour both of his own servings and, when she catches him staring wistfully, her serving as well.

As soon as his hunger has been sated—and isn’t she proud to have provided for him—she brings up the topic of a healer.

“I don’t have the coin for it,” he says bitterly, his hand coming up to rest on his stomach. “I was planning on the proceeds from whatever song I wrote about the dragon hunt, but, well…”

“Don’t worry about that,” she dismisses. “Wouldn’t you like to know that everything is alright?”

“Of course I would,” he hisses defensively, catching her off guard. “Are you implying—”

“I'm implying that I’ll help, you dolt, nothing more,” she interrupts. “I’m sure you would want the best for your child, as any good parent would.”

He deflates, protective instincts settling. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “Sorry. I just…”

“Oh, don’t get all emotional, it’s fine. I’m sure those maternal instincts are raging,” she teases. “But we’re not likely to find a good healer anywhere within thirty miles, so I suggest that we get out of this shithole town and into actual civilization.”

“Gods, yes,” he agrees. “If I ever see another mountain it’ll be too soon.”

They gather their things and Yennefer conjures up a portal. One glance at it, though, has Jaskier paling. “Is that thing safe?” He places a hand on his stomach.

“Of course it is. Your baby will be fine.” She gestures him through. “Ladies first.”

He throws her a look, but steps through with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. She follows, closing the portal behind her, just in time to catch Jaskier around the waist as he staggers and falls.

“Fuck,” he curses, gagging, but thankfully there’s no repeat of earlier. “Fuck, that’s horrific.”

“Pull it together,” she instructs as he keeps gagging. “Fine, no more portals, I promise.”

“Eurgh,” he says finally, getting his legs under him again. He doesn’t push her away, but she withdraws anyway, imagining that he looks bereft without her touch for only a moment. “Where are we?”

They’re standing in the middle of a road lined by wildflowers, the sun beating down brightly. In the distance lies a town—no, a city. “Just outside Vizima,” she says, pulling him to the side of the road as a carriage pulled by horses passes so that he doesn’t get trampled.

“Ah, lovely place. Not counting the sewers. You wouldn’t believe how many monster corpses are rotting down there,” he informs her, then looks pained at the indirect mention of their mutual monster hunting acquaintance.

“Then you’d better keep up, or I’ll throw you down in there to join them,” she says, setting off down the road. He hastens to catch up.

“You wouldn’t! I'm in a delicate state, after all. You’d at least keep me ‘round long enough to steal my baby before getting rid of me,” he jokes, but Yennefer doesn’t find it very funny at all.

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” she says shortly. His joke has cut deeper than he’s realized. She may want her womb back, yes, but that doesn’t mean she’ll go around stealing babies like the witches out of stories.

“No, of course not,” he says softly. “Sorry. Bad joke.” They walk in awkward silence until they reach the gates of the city.

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#the witcher #yenskier #yennskier #jaskier #yennefer #the witcher fanfic #my fic

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

Text

The Empress- Darker the Weather // Better the Man

Warnings: topics from the empress, Violence

Sarah laid on the makeshift cot. Lately with how everything had been pulled out, the war seemed like it had no end. Her eyes danced dully well her fingers fiddled with the locket from her lovers. Tears easily welled her eyes at the thought of them waiting for her.

Distant, everything is scattered

She missed them, she missed them more than she thought she truly would. The way their fingers danced warmly around her locks. Or how mornings were spent wrapped up tightly within her wives arms, the cold artic air contrasting to the warm blankets. She just missed the softness of the lingering moments.

When your mind is shattered and torn apart

She knew the war wouldn't last forever, yet with every passing day, it seemed the ending was fading. Sarah knew she shouldn't be mad at Technoblade or (y/n), but she couldn't help it.

Maybe it started with (y/n), the way she clinged and lulled the grand emperor into a false sense of pride. She easily Loathed that. Everyone within the empire assumed the Emperor was in control, but Sarah- being the general, knew exactly who had the power.

In an instant, I can be indifferent

But could she really bring herself to hate her? After all she was pregnant with the Emperor's baby as of currently.

She knew she shouldn't, yet it was so easy...

When she walked into the tent to see the Grand Emperor packing his things- it left her seething. He was going to leave them- leave his troops- his people- people who gave so much in hopes to end the conflict quickly. Technoblade should have known others were missing important family events, yet here they stood, proudly serving under his name.

The blame is always shifted from the start

And it was all because She, called- begged, him to come home.

She couldn't linger about any longer, she needed to distract herself. So grabbing a cloak she left the base camp, although some of the men asked about where she was leaving too. Sarah simply wiped her eyes with pride and assured them of her return.

Leafless treetops in the snow

Views of death and bitter cold

The walk towards the nearby village was a bore. Due to the cold, barely any animals found home within the snow, anymore Sarah was starting to see the appeal of moving somewhere warmer.

Instead of visiting a bakery or a warm café, Sarah found herself wondering into a bar. Perusal, only the odd were within the warm walls. Brute men and sly women hogging up around the bar.

Without a step of hesitance she took her seat at the bar, the two brooding men beside her looked as if they should have scared her off. Yet when they tried to comment on Sarah's seat she simply sent a cold glare. Towards them, a wordless death threat of silence.

When the men backed off, they ultimately decided to move seats completely. In turn a younger gentleman took their seats.

Sarah didn't acknowledge him, something seemed off about it, yet she couldn't place her finger quite on it. The man took a glance to her, his fluffier Blonde hair radiating a familiar tone.

"You seemed troubled..." the man purred, sending Sarah into a eyeroll. Typical men. She thought, knowing exactly where this was leading.

"Don't think like that." The man said, his green eyes flashing slightly as a warning. "I'm only here to hear out a strangers problem... I'm hear to help." He mused.

Although Sarah was offset and held the high urge to not tell a thing to this man. Something told her it was worth it. She needed to get it off her chest.

So she did.

And through that, she felt her nerves lessen. With layer, and layer dropped about Technoblade, his wife, his family, everything. She felt a silver lining.

Something that should have stuck out to her however, was when she went on about Technoblade, the Man seemed to just know everything about him. Even things she didn't know- things that seemed future related. It was odd.

Yet here she found herself, drink in hand, explaining her problems to a lost man at a bar. Through the end of her rant, the only thing he had to say was "Men are hard, but im sure you've herd it before..." at the line she shrugged and looked to her glass.

The swirling bourbon within held her reflection, but something eerier about it, was when she glanced to the man inside the glass. The reflection, although looking exactly like the man beside her, when looking closer she saw halo's crossing over his face, Golden beams of bended light.

When she looked back to the man, he was looking at her unamused. "You know, there is a saying out there, that you may find, useful..." the man said.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

"What is the saying..." Sarah asked cautiously, now alarmed from the mans reflection. She watched the man take a drink before smiling- almost sinisterly.

"The Darker the Weather, the Better the Man" he said. Sarah gave a odd look to him, not understanding, but it didn't take long for the man to elaborate. "Say something hardens the man your talking about. Something that will truly drive him cold. He may turn out better than you expected. After all, weaklings rarely survive war." The man said casually.

The line rang around inside Sarah's mind, what could make techno so cold, that he refused to go home. The man watched her, trying his best to hide the wicked smile he held.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

And then it hit her. Almost like sheer brilliance, it hit her dead on.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

The letters to you.

You can't have my-

When Wilbur was tasked with waking you up, it was easy to say he was always overjoyed. With techno being absent from your side, Wil always tried his best to make you smile. Sometimes even Tommy would tag along.

Of course, Tommy didn't understand the severity of the moment how heartbroken and lost you felt, but he could easily tell you were sad at the least. So he also tried to cheer you up.

Sun shines through an open window

So on days he woke you, he would often run into Technoblade room, your silhouette laying within the oversized bed. He often viewed it as misplaced for how lonely your body looked.

But that didn't ever stop him from pulling the curtains open, the light rarely shined brightly through the glass, but in the end it did allow more light within. Well Wilbur pulled the curtains, tommy would often bounce on your bed, doing his best to make you smile.

Close the curtains real slow to hide the light

Although you would hide your face and try to hide, tommy wouldn't stop his smiling and joyful laugh. Yet Wilbur would always watch how your eyes would linger to techno's side of the bed. Wilbur hadn't seen the letters between you and techno, but he always saw how they tore you up. Whatever he was saying was hurting you, and Wilbur despised it.

But in time, maybe I can change it

At the least Wilbur was thankful you had Orion beside you, he was able to calm most of your haywire nerves. Of course, Wilbur never liked how close he was to you. But, he understood it was a time where you just needed someone.

We'll find someone who feels the same as me

Wilbur saw how you tried to hide your pain, your long nights spent crying, the days you refused to eat, the way you refused to acknowledge techno's lost presence. It was obvious who you were not on good terms.

Wilbur couldn't help his curiosity, he knew it was wrong, yet he did it anyway. When you had left your office for bed Wilbur snuck in, it was the first time he was in Technoblade office alone. The sword you made held high on the wall, truthfully it was poetic.

On a plaque underneath it, was lettering inscribed "the Empress" like the embodied empress, the sword similarly hung alone. With care he slid into your chair, slowly pulling the letters out to read.

You broke me down and stole my soul

And oh was his pissed. For good reason, he saw why everyone was so upset with him.

Left me vacant and all alone

Out of everyone, Orion was the one to see you at your worst. Never had he assumed he would have been so close to someone that he would have gave everything to take your pain away. It left his blood boiling to see you hurt the way you were.

Months of being alone, feeling lost, unloved, unwelcomed. It truly left him with a burning hate. Orion knew he could treat you so much better, that he could take care and provide for you and your infant child.

Over the time techno was gone, he felt he was the only commander to truly hate his leader. Hate what he puts others through, he hated the sorrow he brought along.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

But nothing compared to the pure rage Orion felt when he herd what techno did to you. When you all rested at Foolish's summer home, you didn't lay with techno right off the bat, instead you explained what happened between techno and you.

And Orion was livid.

Techno had put his hands on you- had put his hands on your throat. Orion felt every bone in his body scream to get even. No one raises a hand to those they love, it was just a unspoken law. Orion would have taken to Technoblade as well, only thing holding him back was your tender soft words.

"Please don't- please Orion... let it stay between us..." you begged to him. Soft doe eyes pleading to the Enderian.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

Although it gnawed at Orion’s heart, he respected your call and left it lie. But that didn't stop what fallowed.

With the Enderian's blood flowing strong with rage, emotion, and the urge to defend, he couldn't help the way his eyes slit with the dragons hue, the blood curdling purple that drove fear into those around him.

You were far down the hall, everyone was asleep, it was a perfect time to let everything go.

You can't have my

And go he did..

He had never felt it, even though his blood ran with the Enderian's, he had never felt his anger hit the point of breaking.

The point that others forewarned him about. The point where his jaw would dislocate and his skin would tear open to allow the canines of a monster to show.

It wasn't a side he thought he had.

You can't have my

Yet when the thought laced through his mind again. The thought of techno putting his hands on you, he felt the pop, and the blinding rage that fallowed. Throwing the nearest object as he let the curdling scream out.

You can't have my soul

When techno undressed for the night, he couldn't explain the shame and hurt that he felt. He couldn't meet his own gaze within the mirror. He knew you were willing to bathe with him again. Lay for the night and try and wish it to be what it once was.

But he knew he Hurt you. He knew it wasn't his direct doing, but he was involved- he took it too far.

He could still see the nail marks from where you grabbed his face, he hoped it wasn't the same for your neck.

He didn't deserve you.

He knew it. The way he lashed and you too willing asked him to bathe with you like it was over. You taking his hands, his face his body into your hands, you were truly too wonderful. To amazing for him.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

When you stepped into the bathroom he saw your tired eyes, your arms firmly around Thena. He saw how attached you were to her. She was your world, she was the world techno wanted to live with.

Techno knew he had no right to ask to hold her, not after what he had done to his tiny family. Yet he couldn't help but want to feel you and her in his arms. He wanted to redeem himself and show you he was worthy enough to protect you both.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

After all he was still your husband and her father in the end, it was his job, his one thing he cannot mess up. He knew others were on the line. Others more important than a endless battalion, you were his wife, his life, the mother of his daughter.

You were his world.

But the darker the weather, the better the man

So from that day, he swore. Dare anyone lay a hand on his wife, and daughter. He would raise hell upon them.

He would never loose you too like he almost did.

You can take all you want, but not who I am

#technoblade x reader #te

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