#if there were a fourth soldier it would be my shitty jokes

[whatsnewalycat]

Made this for u 💝

#if there were a fourth soldier it would be my shitty jokes #meme #writing meme #fic writing

[inomios]

Beauty behind the madness || levi ackerman x reader || PART I

Summary: “You knew that under all of his layers of grief and rage there was something worth loving; he knew that under your easy smiles and sweet words there was something dark lurking. He wanted all of you and you wanted all of him.”

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Words: 7,4K

TG: Brief allusion to soldiers’ suicides; little description of a panic attack on the seventh part (I can’t feel my face); brief talk about death and addiction; and even though I wrote it all using gender neutral terms, at some point I used the term girlfriend because partner sounded too cold for the situation.

-        If you are triggered by some content that I haven’t mentioned, please tell me so I can add it to the list and prevent it from happening again.

Author’s note: Mushing my favorite album with my comfort character is being so much fun. I’m enjoying so much this process you wouldn’t believe it. The second part will be up next Tuesday, and it’ll be the ending. Please, share, comment and like if you enjoyed, it would mean the world to see your reactions and impressions. As always, English is not my mother language, so sorry for the mistakes.

                                                          . . .

1. REAL LIFE

He had carved on his soul, heart and mind the words that Kenny had once told him, back when he was a scared and weak kid under his wing in the Underground, back when Kenny had caught him crying in the dead of night over his mother.

‘Boy, you won’t survive a day with that attitude. Your mother was a whore and now she’s a dead whore, get over it. You don’t have time to mop over her, crying is for people who have nothing more important to worry about.’

Kenny, for better or for worse, had taught him many lessons that became the key to his survival, advices he would never forget, and this was one of them: ‘Grieving is a waste of time.’

Every second he cried over his mother was time he could have spent granting his sorrowful existence. He couldn’t let his grief control him, because missing his mother wouldn’t make him last another day, she couldn’t protect him now that she was gone. So, for better or for worse, he let his sadness and rage aside and started focusing on what was important: survival.

Grieve is a tricky feeling, it makes you think you can control it, while it just keeps bottling up until it explodes, and you better be ready for when that happens, because you may not be able to fix the mess it’s going to leave behind.

Levi thought he had masqueraded his feelings pretty well, he tried to shrug everything off, as if nothing mattered to him, but it did, and Kenny knew it and he loved to tease him about it, he loved to press his buttons, Levi had learned that pretty soon in the relationship, but he was trying to handle his feelings, he wanted to prove Kenny he was worthy of his time, that he was strong, that  he wasn’t weak, not anymore. So, whenever Kenny tried to get a reaction out of him, he kept his mouth shut, but he couldn’t water down the fire in his grey eyes and Kenny could see it, he always could.

‘You are as worthless as your mother, maybe I should leave you in a brothel too, then you would be useful for something.’

A loud howling laughter.

Levi’s brow twitched.

‘Did your mom have time to teach you how to read or was she too busy fucking half the Underground?’

He thought he had said something hilarious. He bent over his back.

Levi had a little knife clutched in his hand.  He was starting to see red.

‘You’re as worthless as your mother.’

He was pushing him to his limits.

Levi had already passed them.

He liked to think that there was a dark abyss inside of him, a bottomless place where he could hide all his emotions and thoughts, they were useless, so he ignored them, he kept them away, far from the surface. Levi thought that he could detach from his pain, but it was a part of him, and if you stare into the abyss for too long, the abyss stares back at you. The Levi who grieved was still there, looking at him, the Levi who felt too much but said nothing wanted to get out, so he did, he escaped from the abyss and took control.

He run towards Kenny, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, knife in his hand, aiming for his heart, but Kenny was faster, quicker on his feet, he moved just in time. However, Levi still managed to scratch his shoulder, he teared his shirt and he could see the blood slipping, tainting the white fabric.

Kenny got mad. Levi had never seen him that furious. He grabbed his scrawny body and gave him the beating of his life. When he ended, Levi couldn’t even move, he was lying on the floor on a puddle of his own blood.

‘Listen kid, I don’t give a fuck about your shitty problems. You think you’re special? Guess what, you are a piece of shit, just like everyone else. Everyone here has issues, solve them or do whatever you want to do with them, but don’t you ever dare to pull a stunt like that again, because I’ll will leave you here to die, boy.’

That was the second lesson Kenny had told him: ‘Control is vital.’

He thought that by ignoring his feelings he was controlling them, but he was wrong, he realized that when those bottled emotions caused him to be bed ridden a few days.

Instead, he decided to let his feelings out in really calculated moments, he started to canalize all his rage into more productive stuff, like cleaning. He liked to think that by cleaning he had control over something, there was something cathartic to him in scrubbing floors, doing the laundry, and mopping floors. It was the Underground, it was filthy no matter how much effort he put into it, but it gave him something he could focus on, something he could use to let his frustrations out.

So, he cleaned, for his mother who deserved a better live.

For the innocent child that he once was, who had been stripped from everything he loved.

For Kenny, who he despised and was cruel and ruthless.

For all the things he had to do to survive.

He cleaned and cleaned, and he never had an outburst again. He was in control.

Looking back, he is sure that part of Kenny’s fury that day was that a kid made him bleed. You see, Kenny liked to think of himself as some kind of god, a ruler, someone who could control everybody, someone who was holding your fate between his calloused hands. And when he hurt Kenny, both of them realized two things, especially Levi, who discovered this: ‘Gods bleed to.’

Levi learnt his third lesson that day. No one could control him, the same way he couldn’t control anyone. You are the one who makes the decisions, just be sure to choose one you won’t regret. Kenny had no power over him, he wasn’t a god and if he was, Levi wouldn’t bow down to him.

Kenny learnt that Levi, that child, had a fire within he couldn’t tame, Levi wasn’t going to be a submissive, brainless follower. He had potential, he had willpower, he didn’t really need him, but the boy didn’t know it yet. So, when the moment came, he left. He had grown to care about his nephew, at least a little, but Levi was a survivor and Kenny knew he would fight with teeth and claws until the very end. Therefore, Kenny left him with the only person who could protect him: Levi himself.

When Kenny left him at his own, alone again in the Underground, he learnt his fourth lesson: ‘Love is a risk he wasn’t going to take again.’

  2. LOSERS

Stupid is next to ‘I love you.’ He was pretty fucking sure of that.

He made a bow to himself: he wasn’t going to love anyone ever again, people are bound to leave, and whenever they left, they took away a part of him, and he was already too broken for that. However, life happens, and it turns everything upside down, it doesn’t ask for consent, so his plan of never loving again was ruined sooner than he would’ve liked.

Furlan came first. He wasn’t looking for a companion, at all. A companion meant more people to care about, a distraction, and he didn’t need any of that. However, Furlan managed to convince him that he could be useful to him. Whenever he looks back, he thinks that both of them knew that Levi didn’t need anyone, he could survive on his own, he was tougher than anyone else in the Underground, but he was alone, so alone, and a part of him yearned so much for someone that he let Furlan come with him.  

Their relationship was weird at first, not sure where the boundaries of the other laid, what they could do or don’t. Furlan didn’t want to overstep and piss off Levi and Levi didn’t want to overshare with him, he didn’t want to show him his weaknesses, but at the same time he wanted to spend time with him.

He remembers that there were moments when Levi desired to say something, talk about pointless stuff, but he never did, after Kenny he was deprived of human contact that he even thought that he had lost his voice. However, as time passed them by, they fell into some type of routine, boundaries became clearer. Furlan started to get Levi, how he would never start a conversation no matter how bad he wanted; how his mind was always plotting something; how he always had an ace upon his sleeve… Furlan grew fond on him, he knew that there was a lot Levi wasn’t telling him, but from time to time he got to see a glimpse of all the man he was under his façade and layers of secrets, and he wanted to learn about him, he wanted to be his friend, he wanted to have someone to help and he wanted someone to take care of him, he wanted to stay.

On the other hand, Levi liked how Furlan seemed to know when he could talk and joke around and when he had to stay silent, it was like he understood him, Furlan was prudent and chill, thinking before acting, and he knew when to fight and when to give up. Levi started to care about him, a lot, against his better judgement, he just hoped he wouldn’t regret his choice.

Then, Isabel appeared on scene. Levi was happy enough with Furlan, he didn’t need someone else to worry about, that was more trouble, more chances to get hurt. However, he soon found he had a soft spot for the girl. She was so energetic, so bubbly, eyes always gleaming with hope, she was a ray of light in the darkest place. She was messy, reckless and wild, she balanced them out. When she asked to join them, Levi wanted to let out one of his characteristic ‘Tch’ and turn his back on her, there was no room for compassion in the Underground, but he couldn’t, he was weaker than he thought. He couldn’t leave her at her own knowing she could get herself killed, he didn’t want to be like Kenny, he wasn’t going to be like him.

The three of them became a gang, well, not just a gang, a family too. They looked after each other, they looked after Levi, just like his mother did. They were the best criminals in the Underground, and sometimes Levi felt like a god with the world at his feet. He shouldn’t have forgotten his third lesson: ‘Gods bleed too.’ He thought they were invincible, they weren’t, they were no gods, life wouldn’t bend at their will.

When Isabel and Furlan died, he didn’t even have proper bodies to bury, he just did two little makeshift graves and carved their name on the gray stone. He was the only person who would remember them, so he visited them at least once a week (he still does), mainly during his sleepless nights, when no one would ever question or notice his absence. Talking with them was the only reason why he hadn’t given up long time ago, he was their leader, he told them to always keep going, to never back down.

So, he kept going, for his mother, for Isabel and for Furlan. For the only people who ever loved him.

Maybe he didn’t really keep going, maybe he just let life pass by, what mattered was that he was alive and fighting for a purpose, he owed them that, their deaths wouldn’t be in vain.

Why did he always have to lose everything?

Why there was nothing good in store for him?

He was bound to lose to lose everything.

Stupid is next to I love you.

He was so fucking foolish.

3. TELL YOUR FRIENDS

The mission had been a carnage, a lot of fallen soldiers. He could still hear their screams and see the fear in their eyes, more images to haunt him while he was sleeping, as if they weren’t already enough. He couldn’t save anyone, he never could, he was human after all, even if some people thought about him like a god.

He had had a problem with his ODM gear during the mission, the gas cylinders were failing and wasting too much gas, so he ran out of it pretty quickly, which costed him a seven meters fall, breaking his right leg, his left arm, a few ribs and a concussion in the process. He could have died and a part of him wished he had, then, the pain would have ended. Luckily, Hange arrived just in time to help him, he still thinks that maybe they knew what was going on in his head, that he had thought about giving up right there, and that’s why as soon as they arrived back home, they sent him to the infirmary, not wanting to leave him alone. Hange still says it was because he couldn’t take proper care of his injuries by himself. They both knew he had had it way worse than that.

The infirmary was clean, and that meant a lot according to his standards, but your desk wasn’t, not at all and it was driving him crazy, if he could, he would get up and clean it himself. However, you seemed unphased by it, every day you would drop more documents on your table (but no document ever left, they just kept piling up); he had seen you drop coffee on some paper and not giving a fuck a single fuck about it; you had seven books on your table, none of them related with medicine, you just had them there because you wanted; and if you asked him what irked him the most, he would say the brush, you had a brush in your desk and it was full of hair. He couldn’t get his eyes of your desk, and if you ever noticed, you never did anything about it; or maybe you did notice and since you are a little shit, you just wanted to see how far you could go before he went feral. We will never know.

If you had been any other person, like one of the members of his squad, he would have said something way earlier, but you weren’t his subordinate, you were a medic and as far as he knew, he didn’t have the right to scold you at your own workplace.

You were competent, you just talked when necessary and you would always ask him if he wanted something, no matter how many times he had said ‘no’ and whenever Hange came to visit, you would always talk with them and ask them about their experiments and research. Hence, Hange thought you were the sweetest person ever, they had even told him that he better not be giving you any trouble.

You both had an easy routine. You would come in first hour in the morning, trying to be silent with no success at all, you were so noisy, luckily for him, he never sleeps more than four hours. You would sit on your desk and write a letter, every day, who the fuck had so many people to talk to or how many things worth telling did happen in your life? Then, you would go out to get him breakfast and you brought more documents with yourself, his breakfast always came with a cup of tea, a shitty cup of tea, but at least it wasn’t coffee or juice, he didn’t know if you were the one behind the tea, but if you were, he was glad you didn’t work on the kitchen. After breakfast, Hange would pay him a visit and talk with him, his squad would often visit him after training and Erwin once or twice a week, whenever his work let him a little free. At midday you would water the plants on the window, you had once called them ‘Asphodels’ and after watering them you disappeared, at the beginning he thought you just went to eat, later on, he would find why you did that. The rest of the day was the same, you wrote and read documents and he would either look annoyed at your desk or he would vert his gaze at the window to distract himself.

This routine changed the second week, because you asked him two questions that made him be more comfortable around you.

‘Why do you look at my desk as if it were making you sick?’

‘Tch, because is making me sick, it’s dirty as fuck.’

Okay, not the best words, but you asked, and he answered. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel better after telling you. You blushed a little and scratched your neck bashfully.

‘Sorry, I can be a little messy sometimes.’

‘I can see.’

That day you spent the evening emptying your desk, any other person would have asked you not to bother, but Levi couldn’t care, after all, his last thread of sanity depended on that desk. When you finished cleaning, you asked the second question.

‘You hate my tea, but you drink it anyways, why?’

He felt his ears getting a little red, and he just shrugged and looked away.

‘You are taking care of me, didn’t wanna be a bitch about it.’

You smiled, a smile brighter than the morning star, and for a fraction of second he forgot how the breath, but he obviously didn’t say a thing about it.

‘I promise you that tomorrow you’ll have the best tea ever.’

‘Tch, if you say so.’

He appreciated your gesture, kindness wasn’t something he was used to, it felt weird and strange to have someone to do good things just for the sake of doing them, it made him wary, he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought that maybe you wanted to get something from him and that’s why you acted so nicely around him.

The next day, after writing your daily letter, at your then clean desk, you brought him breakfast with a steaming cup of tea. He drank the beverage under your expecting gaze and to his surprise it was nice, not the best tea ever made, but definitely not the worst.

‘It tastes better.’

‘Thanks, this time I followed the recipe.’ You admitted proudly.

‘How the fuck were you even making tea before?’

‘Instinct?’

He looked at you astonished, how come you were a doctor, but you couldn’t follow a three-step recipe? At that moment he thought his health was in the hands of dumbest medic in the area, however, he didn’t really care, well, at least not as much as he would have expected. You had something, an aura around your persona, that was soothing and endearing, rather than infuriating.

At the crack of dusk on that same day, he was the one who asked a question.

‘Who are you always writing?’

For a moment he swears he saw your happy demeanor quivering, as if he had opened a cage that should have remained closed, but you quickly fixed, the funny glint coming back at your eyes as fast as it had left. It was in that moment when he knew that you weren’t as shallow as he may have deemed you to be.

‘I’m just telling my friends about this annoying patient I have. Do you know he made me clean my office desk?’

Your voice was laced with amusement, you were trying to divert his attention to another topic, and he knew, but he was no one to press you about it.

‘Well, as soon as I’m free, I’m telling my friends about how my medic is a fucking shitshow.’ Too blunt, but you brushed it off.

‘They sound like a nightmare.’

‘They are.’

You smiled, yet again as blinding as the sun.

He didn’t smile, he didn’t even grimace, his face was as stoic as always, but for a split of second, a smile nearly slipped in.

To his surprise, he actually talked about you to his friends. When he had the medical lease, the first thing he did was visit Isabel and Furlan’s impromptu graves and talk about you. It wasn’t a lot, he just mentioned you a few times. It didn’t mean a thing, and at the same time, it meant everything.

 4. OFTEN

It didn’t mean a thing.

Not a single thing.

It was unimportant.

He was like that with everyone.

Except he wasn’t and he knew it.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He would always find himself at your door, not because he was sick or harmed, he just felt the need to see you. He didn’t even talk with you that much, he wasn’t good at opening up or even small talk. He was foul-mouthed, snarky and his words could cut deeper than a knife. You were soft, kind, funny and there weren’t uncomfortable silences with you, your presence was comforting. Levi didn’t get why he felt that way about you, he barely knew you, but you had something that drew him in, maybe it was the normalcy you brought him. You were a doctor, you healed people, you tended their injuries; you hadn’t seen the titans, you hadn’t seen comrades die at their merciless hands, you didn’t know what was outside the walls and he liked that. You were an escape. It was as if his life was only centered around Titans and his existence had no other point but to kill or think about to kill Titans: Hange were always babbling about Titans; his paperwork was always a painful reminder of fallen mates; Erwin was always tracing missions and plans; and the whole point of his squad was training to defeat those beasts. He never had a break, but visiting you felt like it.

He knocked at your door and it opened, you were at your desk, which was an unorganized mess then again, humming some song he didn’t know while you were reading some medical reports. And the asphodels in the window looked beautiful as always.

‘Hi, Levi.’ You looked up and gave him a smile.

Your smiles.

Oh man, he took them in like a dehydrated man would savor the first droplets of rain.

He just nodded as a salute and walked towards the window to see the asphodels.

‘Why asphodels?’ he asked, you loved those flowers, and they weren’t necessary the most beautiful.

To him you were more like yellow lilies, he had read somewhere that yellow lilies meant joy and happiness. They always brought a simile to one’s face because they are the true depiction of the sun, just like you were.

‘I don’t know, they are special’ you said with a small voice, the same haunted look in your eyes, the same that appeared when he asked about your letters.

‘I guess they are.’

A comfortable silence fell in the room. He was getting used to these havens of peace.

That night at dinner, he was sitting next to Erwin, Hange in front of him, looking at him quizzically.

‘What’s going between you and y/n? You’re always at their place.’ They ask.

‘Tch, nothing, I just visit them often.’

Lies

‘So, there is no ulterior motive, like, I don’t know, our Short king having a crush?’ Levi sometimes forgot how punchable Hange’s face was.

‘No.’

More lies.

Something was going on, they both knew, but he was too scared to think about what it was.

 5. THE HILLS

Another fight. More deaths. What was the point of it? He felt like he was fighting for a pointless cause, the more deaths, the less they knew. He would have to send more letters to the families, telling them that their sons and daughters fought bravely until their last breath and sacrificed their lives for the sake of humanity. However, broken families would come to him and ask him if it was worth it, if the death of their children, cousins, brothers and parents brought them answers, if their deaths meant that humanity was closer to taste the freedom they longed for. He had always said that no death was in vain, but he was starting to question that.

He had barely seen you after the mission, he retreated to his quarters, drowning himself in reports and regrets, if he had been better, he could have saved more lives, but he wasn’t enough, he was no hero, he was a human. He had been fighting his whole life and he just wanted it to stop, he wanted peace and tranquility, not more deaths at his shoulders, no more ghosts to haunt him at the end of the day.

He never slept, at least not for more than a few hours. However, after a mission he didn’t sleep at all, the images of his comrades’ deaths still fresh on his mind, their screams still piercing his ears, his sanity vanished a little bit more every time he tried to close his eyes, so he just laid awake looking at the roof, thinking about all the things he could have done to save them, repeating their names as if he was asking for their forgiveness.

Sometimes it all got too much, and he needed to walk to clear his mind, there were nights when he walked for hours with no direction at all, but that night he did have a direction: your office. He didn’t really know why he was doing it, but he was too tired to turn back and ask himself why you. He thought that you would probably be asleep, but to his surprise there was a dim light coming from your office, so he knocked, just like all of those times before, and your soft voice told him to come in.

He had never seen you so disheveled and tired, dark bags under your eyes, traces of tears on your face and bloodshot eyes. He also noticed four new asphodels on your desk. He looked at them and then he looked at you. He wanted to ask, but he couldn’t, so you spoke.

‘My regrets follow you to the grave.’ He barely heard you.

‘What?’

‘That’s what asphodels mean, you asked me about them once, you remember?’

He nodded, that’s all he could do.

‘I couldn’t save them, I tried, but I wasn’t good enough.’ You broke down to tears.

He wasn’t good at processing his own emotions, let alone other people’s. What was he supposed to do? He knew that people hugged to show support, but as he would say, he was ‘emotionally constipated’, so he just stayed there, looking at you.

Do something.

Do something.

Do something.

But he remained stiff, it was like watching the scene happen in third person.

‘I’m sorry, I know this is making you uncomfortable, it’s just that it’s been a long day.’

‘It’s been a long day for me to.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘You told me that asphodels mean ‘my regrets follow you to the grave’, that’s why you have them? Because you feel guilty?’

‘I plant one for every soldier that dies on my watch.’ That was the first time you opened up with him.

‘I keep the badges of their uniforms.’ That was the first time he opened up with you.

Right then everything shifted.

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ He knew those feelings, the remorse and the guilt, he was so painfully familiar with them that they had become a part of his being.

‘It wasn’t your fault either, Levi.’

It wasn’t your fault either.

It wasn’t your fault either.

It wasn’t your fault either.

Your words echoed in his mind like a drum and for a moment he believed them.

You came closer and you wrapped your arms around him, he tried to respond, embracing you in strangely, you laughed at his antics and in that moment, he wanted to disappear. You smiled and you readjusted his arms around your waist. He brought you closer, slowly, not wanting to scare you away and break the moment. You laid your head in his chest, right above his heart, and he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart beating wildly. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin and your smell intoxicating him. For a moment he felt like home, even though he didn’t understand what ‘being home’ meant, but it had to be very similar to that: comforting, reassuring, peaceful, safe.

That night, he spent what felt like hours holding you, until you had to part separate ways, the only witnesses were the asphodels and the hills at the distance.

  6. ACQUAINTED

What are we?

Levi couldn’t stop asking himself that question.

Friends didn’t have what you two had. Maybe he wasn’t the most amicable person, but he had had some friends in his life: he once had Isabel and Furlan when he was younger, and now he had Hange and Erwin, and maybe he could even consider his squad friends. And none of what he felt for them was like what he felt for you.

He tried to make sense of his thoughts by writing them, but words weren’t his forte and he just ended more and more confused.

You were nice.

You were beautiful.

You made him laugh, well, not laugh, but close enough.

You were kind.

He appreciated you, he cared for you and he wanted to protect you, but he also felt the same towards Erwin, Hange and his squad. Then, if it was the same, why it was completely different.

He kept visiting you, everything looked like it was the same, but everything had changed. It felt like the calm before the storm, as if something was about to happen, the tides were shifting, he could feel it. There were words unsaid lingering in the atmosphere and sooner or later, someone would have to utter them. But who? And if you spoke them, what would he say?

He also spent a lot of his time thinking about that too, if you happened to confess your feelings for him, if you had them, would he be able to respond them? Normal people would try, give it a shot and see what would happen, what the relationship had in store, let things flow; but he wasn’t normal, he was far from normal, he knew he wasn’t the easiest to love. He was rude, mean, a control freak, he wasn’t the one for big displays of affection, he was the last person someone would want as a partner. People yearned for epic love stories, something that could take your breath away and he wouldn’t be able to do that, he wouldn’t be able to give you the bare minimum.

Also, after all the people he had lost, he didn’t want your name to be added to that list. He preferred the uncertainty of your relationship than the possibility of losing you. If he left more people in, more people he could lose. He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were already in, but there were still boundaries between both of you.

He had also fantasized about laying himself bare in front of someone, share all of his trauma and memories, share the burden with someone, but who would love all of him? If he couldn’t even stand himself most of the days, how could he expect that someone would   do it?

‘If you were a flower, I think you would be a gladiolus.’ You would always blurt nonsense out of the blue, but for some reason, he found it endearing instead of annoying.

‘Tch, what’s even that supposed to mean?’

‘I don’t know, it’s just, gladius symbolize strength, generosity, faithfulness and I guess those are things I associate with you.’ Your cheeks were tainted with the softest tones of red and you weren’t looking at him, your gaze was fixed on your paperwork.

Those words had a way deeper meaning, he knew it and you knew it, it was as if you were testing the water by putting the tips of your feet in it. As per usual he didn’t know what to say, what was he supposed to say to that? Thanks? I think I may be falling for you?

‘Sorry, I made things weird, I should just-’ you couldn’t finish because he had started talking.

‘I think you would be a yarrow flower.’ Amazing, now he was the one talking nonsense.

Not so long ago he pictured you as yellow lilies, joy and happiness, but after getting to know you better, he realized that that description was too shallow for what you meant to him. He didn’t know a lot about flowers, he wasn’t really into botany, but he had heard about yarrow before, he had heard merchants inside Sina call them ‘plant doctor’, since they would be often placed near other plants to keep the pests away, he had also heard that it was considered invasive too, because how easily it spread. Therefore, the association came quickly to him, you were healing, a solace from the cruelty of his world; and you were invasive, because he couldn’t be away from you, you consumed him.

‘That means a lot.’ Your blush was now more pronounced now and he wondered what you had made out of his words.

He felt a wave of panic travel through his body, maybe that statement was too deep, maybe he screwed it all, so he decided to excuse himself and ran away from the situation he had created. He had told you he was going to his room, he lied, he was going to the library, he needed to see what his words had meant. He wasted all his evening looking for books about the meaning of flowers, he sure looked like a madman, he hadn’t even gone to the Mess Hall to have dinner, he needed to found answers, and he found them at two a.m.

“The secret language of flowers” said the title, he opened the book and he started looking for the yarrow’s meaning.

Healing and Good Health

Courage and War

Everlasting Love

When he read the last symbolism of the flower, his heart stopped for a whole minute, did he just declare his feelings, that he wasn’t ever sure of, to you? He wanted to disappear in the spot, just vanish into the air.

He went to his room, holding the book close to his chest. He spent the rest of the night reading the book, he wouldn’t mess up again, if he ever wanted to talk about flowers with you, he would be informed. When the sun rose, his head was buzzing with flower meanings, and he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about you while reading some of them.

At breakfast he did go to the Mess Hall and took his usual place.

‘Where were you yesterday at dinner?’ asked Erwin.

‘With his girlfriend.’ Replied Hange with a big smile.

‘She’s not my girlfriend.’ He said with a grunt.

‘What are they then?’ Hange was using the tone, the one which meant “I know you’re hiding something, and I won’t stop pestering you until I discover it.”

‘We are just acquainted.’

‘Liar.’

 7. CAN’T FEEL MY FACE

He remembered how there were days when Kenny would drink himself to oblivion, Levi didn’t understand why he did it. He didn’t see the point of passing out in the floor, and when he asked, Kenny answered that ‘his vices kept him sane’. It still made no sense to him, how a man could be so cunning and sharp, while he wasted his nights and days with alcohol, women and many other things that Levi wasn’t interested on trying. He had seen Kenny drunk and it was far from having control. The first lesson Kenny had told him was that control is vital, then, how come he was powerless in his own life, letting alcohol take control of him.

‘You’re old enough to try it, boy. Take some if you want.’

The first time Kenny offered him alcohol, he had declined, he had said no, and Kenny had shrugged it off, as if saying: ‘more for me.’ He wouldn’t get it, it didn’t make sense, Kenny, who prided himself on his cold-blood and his steel nerves, would renounce to that control so easily, he didn’t want to be like that, never in a million years, he would never give up his self-control.

Until he did.

He had lost control. And he now understood Kenny.

He knew he should distance himself from you, he didn’t want more Furlan’s and Isabel’s, he was getting dangerously close to you and he didn’t want that. He should run away, disappear. You were kind and sweet, you would find someone else to feel the void he would inevitably leave. He had always been the one being left behind, and he survived, you would too. Also, it’s not as if he contributed a lot to your life. He was sure you both would be better with the other far away, I mean, the facts were there. Actually, they had been spiraling in his head for a while.

Then, if he knew all of that, why was he helping you cut clean bandages, especially so close to you that he could smell your shampoo? Oh yeah, because you asked him to, as easy as that, all his conviction melted away from every fiber of his body.

Why did he do that? Why was he so helpless around you? Oh yeah, because you made him feel so damn good. You had him wrapped around your finger and you didn’t seem to notice, you acted as if it was nothing, you had power over him, you had Humanity’s Strongest at his knees.

‘My family died a long time ago, I couldn’t save them, I moved in with my aunt and I decided that I’d study medicine for them.’ You said out of the blue.

You cut one bandage.

‘The letters I write are for them. It’s stupid, but it makes me feel closer to them.’

You cut another bandage.

He didn’t say a thing.

He hated himself, any other person would have hugged you or said something, he just stayed there, frozen and acting as cold as always. Why did you confide in him something so personal? He wasn’t the one to go when you are sad, he didn’t even know how to process his own trauma and baggage most of the time. What was he supposed to do?

On the other hand, you trusted Levi more than anyone in your life. He brought you peace and solace, something you thought you would never have.

You lost your family when you were really young, always feeling guilty for being the one who survived, and you promised to yourself you would vow your life to help the others, never putting your needs first. When you joined the military, you watched many soldiers die on your hands, you could still hear their last words, how scare they were, how they didn’t want to die like that, alone and far away from their family; you could also recall their mutilated bodies; and you could also remember how many of them would survive the Titans but lose the fights against their own mind and end up being another fallen soldier that died for nothing. You loved your job, but it also killed a part of you every day, there were no victories on a war, and you knew it. That’s why you picked up gardening, you planted a flower for every soldier who died, something to remember them.

When you met Levi, you admired him, you had heard the stories about him, his courage, mood changes, sharp tongue, skills, intelligence… You would be lying if you said he didn’t make you curious, you were used to soldiers haunted by the horrors they had faced, but something about him was different, maybe because you saw yourself in those grey eyes. You two were similar, you both had so much pent up that you could not talk about, you had an image to keep, and it was exhausting. He had a name to uphold, people looked up to him, if he failed, if he crumbled, everyone else would; you were a doctor, and no matter how hard things were, you had to be strong for your patients, never showing how much their pain took a toll on you. You could let your mask down, because even though he didn’t talk too much or overall understand why you were sharing that, it felt good, liberating.

Sometimes, he would also talk about him, not a lot, but enough to make you feel understood, and those moments, when he showed the man underneath the façade, glimpses of his true persona, those few minutes, sometimes even seconds, were responsible for your growing feelings for the captain.

‘It’s not stupid, I talk to my dead friends’ graves.’ He said nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t baring a piece of him in front of you.

Those kind of flashes of the man he was underneath took your breath away every single time.

You came close to him, slowly, testing the waters, not wanting to scare him away. Maybe it was too forward, too reckless, too much at a time, but he didn’t move. You brought your hand to his cheek. He didn’t jump away. You looked into his eyes, pools of mercury. He held your gaze, expecting your next move. You could feel the tension. He could too.

‘They would be really proud of you.’ You said, voice thin and trembling.

He was silent. Your words caught him of guard.

He was feeling too much. His heartbeat was erratic, beating wildly, he could hear it. He felt the blood boiling under his skin, he was so hot, he was sweating. He couldn’t move, but he felt his body trembling. He could feel the room closing on him, trapping him. He wasn’t in control.

It was a too familiar feeling, one he had experienced a thousand times before.

‘Levi, are you okay? I’m sorry I’ve made you uncomfortable.’ You said worriedly.

He didn’t know what to do, he just wanted the pain in his chest to end.

You were too close. You were trapping him too. So, he pushed you away from you and run from the infirmary. You couldn’t see him like that, no one could.

Why did he share that with you? Why did you get too close? Were you going to kiss him?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why was he like that?

Why did he ruin things?

Why did he lose control of himself? He couldn’t even feel his face when you touched it.

He felt pathetic. He felt like the little kid he once was.

Control is vital.

Control is vital.

Control is vital.

If he was with you, he wasn’t in control. And if he lost his control, then he would have nothing.

He had to get away from you, because you were stripping him from the only thing he had: his control.

#levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman headcanons #levi ackerman oneshot #snk #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin levi #captain levi #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin

[astoldbygingersnaps]

Harper’s 2020 Fic Wrap-Up

my very good friend and incredibly talented felow writer @sagemoderocklee came up with the idea of doing an end of the year fic wrapup in an attempt to polish the turd known as 2020, and since i actually managed to get some writing done this year i figured, why not jump on the bandwagon? 

a lot of super duper fucking shitty things happened in 2020, but i will always be proud that in this incredibly chaotic, stressful, and challenging year i managed to produce almost 180k of content (and that’s not even counting the writing i started in 2020 but haven’t published yet). so, to celebrate what’s been a pretty big achievement for me, i wanted to go through the various projects i’ve spent the last twelve months working on and give a preview of my plans for 2021.

let’s jump in!

projects i worked on/completed in 2020:

first off, let’s start with the beast to end all beasts, my personal baby, and honestly probably the reason most people follow me -- star trek au:

something bigger than the sky (shiita; 44,163 words; completed): 

i’ve said this before, but the whole idea for star trek au was literally just a joke between me and my-then girlfriend, now-fiancee, and eternal shiita enabler alexa aka @durintrash (by the way, if you follow me for my fics and you DON’T follow alexa for her corresponding art WHAT, exactly, are you doing with your life????) where i sat in a space-themed diner and said ‘haha imagine itachi as a vulcan.’ but then i blinked and suddenly somehow i’d written the prologue and the first chapter of SBTTS in the span of a week. it’s like i was possessed by a fanfic demon.

it sounds super cheesy but i honestly can’t say enough how important this fic has been to me and how much it’s pushed me to be a more productive and more dedicated writer. previously i spent a lot of time Thinking about writing and occasionally i’d put a few words on the page and then i’d go... do... something... else. but star trek au was the first idea i loved enough that it actually pushed me to write and keep writing and not give up even when i was confronted with things like writer’s block and worry over the quality of my writing. so thank you, star trek au, for being the light in a very dark year for me. 

by the end of SBTTS, i felt like i accomplished everything i wanted to do with the story’s beginning installment: i introduced all the characters and set the groundwork for their development; i showed what life on the corvus was like and how starfleet, the federation, and the universe functioned; and, more than anything, i was able to sketch out both the main protagonists -- itachi and shisui -- with all their strengths and flaws, show their relationship to one another, and hint at how that relationship would progress. 

all the stars are closer (shiita; 75,195 words; completed)

considering how slow i used to be at writing, i thought it would be, like, twelve years before i managed to get to the second part in the series. BUT then covid happened and i half-lost, half-quit my job, and like a lot of people this year i ended up with a lot of free time on my hands. and so, like a fucking demon, i finished this part in two and a half months. 

when i originally planned this part out, i really thought it would be a lot shorter and a lot lighter atmosphere-wise than it turned out. instead, this second section of the story ended up being pretty meaty in terms of length and in subject.

that said, overall, i’m really happy with how ATSAC turned out. i loved the way the characters progressed, how the relationships deepened, and how we were able to see this universe grow bigger and more complicated. and i’m very satisifed with how it set the stage for part three, which takes us to...

lovers alone wear sunlight (shiita; 41,518 words; in progress)

there’s... a lot about this part that i just can’t talk about yet, a) because it isn’t finished and b) because it contains some of the biggest plot points in the entire series thus far. if you’ve been keeping up with the stardates thus far (which i encourage you to do!) you know what part three is leading up to: itachi leaving the corvus and the dissolution of shisui and itachi’s growing relationship. 

with that in mind, i’m... more than a little terrified about writing part three, which is why the third chapter has been languishing in my google drive for months now. (and also why i started not one, but TWO new fics to cope with my writer’s block. whoops.) chapter three is where all the parts come together and shit hits the fan, and i can only hope that everyone will be as excited to read it as i am to publish it. 

next up, the two other projects i began this year:

salvation comes only in our dreams (shiita; canon divergence; 16,835 words; in progress)

for a long time, i’ve wanted to write something that’s actually set in the naruto universe and works to correct a lot of the flaws that i see in the series. there are a lot of things that bother me about naruto, but i think one of the things that frustrates me the most is the really messy and in some ways offensive resolution to the uchiha coup plot thread, and i wanted to write a story that dealt with the complicated themes of the series--imperialism, oppression, genocide, child soldiers--but, like, didn’t suck and completely drop the ball. thus, the massacre au was born. 

my main goal was to tell a story that showed a lot of these characters in ways we’ve never seen them before, specifically itachi. i didn’t want to write itachi as just an idealist who suffers and Suffers AND SUFFERS for konoha yet still remains loyal to the village for some unfathomable reason like he is in the series. i wanted to write an itachi that was sharper, more jaded, and more suspicious of the world around him, but overall was still a good person with a kind heart. and for shisui, well... obviously there’s a lot going on there, too. 

this is easily the darkest story i’ve ever written, and as the plot thickens it will certainly get darker with relationship dynamics that are complicated and unhealthy At Best. i hope that as the story goes on it’s a ride people continue to enjoy, as i was super pleasantly surprised at how popular this fic became (compared to my usual stats, at least) 

oceans between us (shiita; alternate universe; 15,039 words; in progress)

it’s good to know that i continue to be the most ridiculously niche version of myself as yes, i wrote a fucking shiita atonement au. 

with each fic i write i try to have a very specific voice that suits the particular piece and distinguishes it from other stories that include the same characters. for example, star trek au chapters tend to be more fun and light-hearted (especially shisui POV chapters) and lean more into the action movie and sci-fi adventure feel of the star trek universe, while the massacre au is written in a way that’s much heavier and guided by itachi’s emotions and experiences. my main goal with this story was to give it the same romantic, operatic, almost hazy quality that the movie has, which reflects the period setting and also the nature of this grand tragic love story. 

i knew from the beginning that there were going to be a lot of things that i cut from the film in my retelling, like the lola subplot and obviously the setting of pre-wwii england. i also knew i wanted to explore some of the aspects of the film that were implied more than outright stated, like the themes of classism and upper-class privileges. and more than anything i wanted to structure this piece around this idea of tension building and building until it finally snaps and there’s just a world of mess and hurt and loss that affects these two characters in two very different ways. 

also, the sex scene. i haven’t written a sex scene for anything in, like, a decade, so that was a lot of pressure. but i’m happy with how it came out and i think it ended up being an aspect of the story that felt like both a natural progression and necessary to show the affection these two people have for one another.

originally i was just going to end the story with shisui going to jail, but when i told alexa this i genuinely thought she was going to kill me. so, that didn’t happen lmao. but the more i tried to imagine what a second chapter would look like, the more i realized she was right, and it would have been a terrible idea to end the fic there. as for whether or not the final chapter will keep That Ending... who can say?

goals i have for 2021:

finishing lovers alone wear sunlight and, if i’m very lucky, beginning the fourth and second to last part of star trek au (yes, as it currently stands this 160k+ word series is only halfway finished. sorry not sorry)

publishing the next chapter of salvation comes only in our dreams (i don’t know when it will drop. i don’t know anything about this fic. please do not @ me) 

completing oceans between us (the second and final chapter is currently sitting at about 4k words and will probably end up at about 15k in total)

completing and publishing a new fic i’ve started at the very end of 2020, which is the shiita jurassic world au nobody but me and alexa knew they wanted. it’s essentially a 90s romcom with dinosaurs and i cannot Wait to share it. (it’s at about 9k right now and will probably end up being around 20k to 23k in total... maybe...)

FINALLY starting my dream project: the shiita olympics au i’ve been planning for years, where itachi is a figure skater and shisui is a hockey player (i’d like to keep this under 150k but at this point trying to keep my stories at a managable word count is a losing battle)

anyway, that’s it! if you managed to get this far in this very self-indulgent and shameless bit of self promotion, congrats! also, a very big thank you to everyone who’s read my fics, left me kudos and comments, and spent their time on my work, because it really does mean the world to me. 

here’s hoping 2021 is a much healthier and happier year for us all! 

#my fic #shiita #this was so much fun to write so kudos to eeri for coming up with this idea

[soyouareandrewdobson]

Charles Schulz vs Andrew Dobson: What a Blockhead!

There are certain things about Dobson’s behavior and particularly his approach at being a nerd and presenting himself as someone who enjoys the art of storytelling that I have issues with. Issues I want to tackle on in more detail within later entries quite a bit.

One such tendency is, that he mocks directly or indirectly the work and accomplishments of others.

See, if Dobson doesn’t like you as a content creator because he does not like something you work on, he will try to show it. He will make stupid assumptions of you (like how he accused Kojima of being a sexist creep because of Quiet and how he deals with “male gaze” in MGS compared to Death Stranding), half heartedly mock you (look at anything he makes about Ethan Van Sciver) or he will call a piece of work boring and dull based on a minor element instead of overarching problems (calling Batman the character a white supremacist based on the dumb work of only one author).

By doing that he also tries indirectly to insinuate that he is better in some manner, though most of the time it really just shows his own ego and that his pet peeves are rather petty compared to the overall quality of the work he criticizes as well as its flaws.

One such sight of ego boosting while mocking the work of his better is in my opinion to be found in this comic he uploaded sometimes around 2016/17 randomly online.

This comic in my opinion is both laughable and insulting. Why? I will explain soon.

First however I want to clarify that I get that this comic is supposed to be a joke mostly. The old “What others expect, what I expect” thing, where the punchline is supposed to be the discrepancy between the two fractions and what they expect, mostly by making one of the expectations come off as worse than the other. However, I find the punchline to be Charlie Brown (and as such what Dobson seems to see as something he does not want to be favorable compared too) quite insulting. Why, as I said, will be elaborated on sooner.

First, let me just get on the part I find laughable: The fact that Dobson in his own head seems to believe he can be even remotely compared to people like Paul Dinni, Bruce Timm, Greg Weismann, Justin Roiland, Miyazaki, Shigeru Miyamoto and all the other character creators and animators whose creations we see in the first panel.

 Dobson, don’t make me laugh. Putting aside the fact that those people are animators more than cartoonists, what makes you even believe in your wildest dreams you are on the same level as them? The fact you too are an animator, seeing how you graduated from an art school with a degree in that field? I have seen your contributions to the field and honestly, I would expect a bit more. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v0tdWNCrIxo

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ps6PfiUCxHQ

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PyonOqClf8

 I give you credit, you can animate. Which is more than I can say for myself when it comes to the arts. But when you look what other freelance animators can do online, some of them younger than you and NOT with a degree in animation…

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=64&v=FmkAcGz1BJk&feature=emb_title

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=97IfPfjSaDg

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eEUoxQ4qSfs

 Viviepop’s demo reels alone are just gorgeous to look at and more fluid than what I have seen of you. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFlha-KOKCc

 And it is not just the technical quality, Dobson. It is also just the overall “originality” of your work. Cause this is the thing with those animators hinted on in the first pic and even many, many freelancers/fanartists as well as webcomic creators online: They have a spark of originality in presentation and storytelling that you lack. I will one day go more into detail for that, but here is the most brutal thing I can say at the moment: I know shitty porn fanfictions, that have more plot development and character growth than all of Alex ze Pirate.

Your characters and stories tend to be derivative and you barely take any risks in telling a story. Neither in your fanbased work (like the Miraculous comics) nor your original content (mostly because you take comfort in four panel strips anyway)  and when you have an idea for something on which the basis idea actually sounds good, you screw it up by a lackluster execution. One example I want to give for that, would be this fanart of yours in regard to Steven Universe.  

(I apologize for not getting one in better quality) This pic was something Dobson created around 2015 for Steven Universe. The picture is supposed to show Lapis, trapped under the ocean following the events of the season 1 finale of the show. A very emotional situation if you are aware of why Lapis sacrificed herself and was “banned” to the ocean floor. Short explanation: Fused with Jasper and then took primarily control of the fused being they became (Malachite) by using her water powers to bond it with heavy water chains on the ocean floor, so that Jasper would not hurt Steven anymore.

 How much of that was even an emotional strain on her and her psyche was in one episode of season 2 even a theme, as seen here.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SK3l8mGNhMg

 I am not even a fan of the show and I get the emotional weight and impact of Lapis actions.

So… why is that not conveyed in the artwork? If you are so talented Dobson, why is none of the strain and despair on the character? The idea of a pic showing Lapis under water, longingly looking up, even in despair is a good basis for a fanart. But the execution lacks any emotional detail. You want to know how I would execute the thing if I had the artistic talent? Make the picture a huge horizontal pic, where we slowly decent from water surface down the ocean. The light getting dimmer. Blue turning into dark. The silhouette of a hand and an arm similar to Malachite’s in the background, trying to travel up, the fingertips barely touching the surface. Heavy chains around the flesh. Symbolic of the fusion trying to break free and cause havoc. And down on the dark bottom, beaten and exhausted Lapis with tears in her eyes and chains all over her body like she is Jacob Marley, desperately trying to keep Malachite at bay for the sake of the only being on earth who ever showed just a little bit of kindness towards her.

 Why can’t we have something like this here, Dobson? If you were even remotely as original as the creators you want to be compared with, I think you could come up with something like that and perhaps even draw it.

But you know, his delusions of being as good as them is one thing. It is even funny.

Pissing over the Peanuts is another. Dobson, what are you trying to hint at?

That people comparing you to Charles Schulz and his creation is in your eyes automatically a sort of insult? That it is something that should at best only be a mockable punchline in a comparison?

Just to clarify a few things: I am NOT much of a fan of Charlie Brown and the Peanuts as a property. As a child, I was just not very entertained by them. Yes, I saw animated movies, episodes and specials of them here and there and my grandparents gave me volumes of them to read, but as a whole I never thought them quite as entertaining than other comics or cartoons I watched. Some parts of Peanuts animation felt to me often times like just dead air (especially parts of Snooby dancing with Woodstuck, as they had no function to move the plots forward) and I really could not stand how some characters treat Charles on a regular basis. I mean, we all agree that Lucy is one of the worst female characters in fiction and that even while we hate Family Guy, this clip likely gave some of us some sort of satisfaction, right?

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZkJAx8FycI

 But before the Peanuts fan out there go and want my head on a silver platter, let me make one thing clear: I may not like the Peanuts franchise… but I respect it and the man behind it.

 Charles Schulz drew the comic strip from October 1950 till late 1999 (the final strip being finished months before it would be published on February 13 of 2000, one day after he died of colon cancer) , creating a total amount of 17,897 Peanuts’ strips. His work marks a major impact in the nature of newspaper comic strips and inspired many people out there, including Bill Watterson, to create comics or be in the field of animation. His achievements include among other things, that he created what many people consider the first animated Christmas special ever. The names of his creations became nicknames for the Apollo 10 command module and its’ lunar modul. Four of the five Peanuts movies in existence (animated made for tv specials not withstanding now) were written by him. And the fifth was only not by him, because that one came out in 2015, a decade and a half after he died.

And speaking of things Schulz wrote for the Peanuts, let me mention two things. Two things that though I am not a fan of the Peanuts, I have mad respect for existing in the realm of animation. Two animated specials that stuck with me ever since I was eight.

 “What have we learnt, Charlie Brown?” from 1983 and “Why, Charlie Brown, Why?” from 1990.

 In the first special, which functions as a semi sequel to the fourth Peanuts’ movie “Bon Voyage, Charlie Brown”, the characters actually travel across France and after ending up on Omaha Beach and Ypres the special turns into a tribute to the soldiers who fought in World War 1 and 2, elaborating on the sacrifices made during the war by showing actual footage of fights, recordings of Eisenhower and reciting the poem “In Flanders Fields” among other things. Do you know how impactful it is to learn about the world wars as a small kid, by being reminded of the actual sacrifices others made in order for your own grandparents to survive?

 And speaking of grandparents, I lost my grandmother as a child by cancer. So when I saw the second special I mentioned, you can bet it stuck with me. After all, of all the things in the world, the Peanuts addressing the seriousness of cancer by having a story where a friend of Linus is diagnosed with leukemia and we follow the emotional impact it has on Linus and the girl? Again, I may not like the franchise, but I am not ashamed to admit I think the special treats the subject with a lot of respect and dignity while telling a good story. You bet your ass I get a bit teary eyed when the little girl survives her leukemia treatment and finally gets on that swing again. Those two specials alone are more mature than ¾ of the shit Dobson likes to gosh about, including his oh so precious gay space rocks. And just for those things existing I have respect for Schulz, his creation and the impact it had on so many people. As such, Dobson “belittling” the Peanuts, at least for me, is a freaking insult. The only way Dobson could have been even more insulting is if he called Schulz something derogative.  Dobson should be glad if his life’s work in total could even amount to 10% of what Schulz has done and achieved.

 Cause Dobson, you are NOT a Charles Schulz. Schulz served during the second world war on the front, fighting actual Nazis instead of calling idiots on the internet fascists for not liking Star Wars. He had integrity and work ethics that drove him to draw and write over 17.000 strips, while you can not even finish one FREAKING story. He knew how to tackle a mature subject, while you make shitty shipping jokes involving Ladybug and Cat Noir and claim Steven Universe knows how to be about psychological trauma, when it just romanticizes abuse. He may have drawn simplistically, but at least he could tell a joke instead of constantly berating others for not sharing his opinion. He did all of that and more without having graduated from college.

 And what have you done, Andrew Dobson?

If Dobson reads this, there is one thing in my opinion he should take away from more than anything else: That if people compare him to Charles Schulz’s work, that it means a) he should not be ashamed of it and b) they overestimate him.

#adobsonartworks #andrew dobson #so you are a cartoonist #syac #sjw #peanuts #charles chulz #charlie brown #snoopy #fuck you #animation #steven universe #disney #cartoons #cartoonist #adobsonartwork

[buckitybarnes]

Midnight Train - Bucky x Reader

Summary: Two strangers catch a late-night train. One runs away from life while the other is simply coming home. The two confide in each other, because sometimes, two stray dogs can relate better than anyone else.

Warnings/Themes: Profanity, fluff, angst (if you squint), reader is technically married. 

Author’s Note: This is kind of a “wow I woke up at 2am because of a dream. I should turn this into a story or something.” Enjoy? Has not been checked for fluency/errors. 

Y/N = Your Name

Buy Me a Ko-fi?

“If you could describe your life in one word, what would it be?”

Ah, Jacie, ever the party-goer. It is a good thing that you took French in high school.

“C’est ennuyeux,” you reply, holding your half-emptied wine glass.

She smiles politely. “I’m sorry?”

Knowing full well that she (nor ninety percent of the party) spoke French, you give a guarded smirk. “I’m doing absolutely fantastic. So one word? Fantastic.” What was one lie to this materialistic dame? She didn't give two shits about you. None of them did. They only spoke to you because you were the wife of some philanthropist.

How boring.

Staying here in Chicago was becoming a chore -- a hell, even. Your marriage? Dying.

Some nights when your husband stayed downstairs and you went to bed alone, you’d weep yourself to sleep. It was no way to live a life. In fact, you didn’t even know the first thing about philanthropy or being rich.

You’d come from a small town, bumping into your husband by accident while running errands. He’d won you over with his good looks and charming demeanor. When you moved in with him, however, you soon realized how little he cared about you. Of course, he never hurt you -- not physically or verbally. However, his haughty personality and his need to show you around like some trophy-wife were becoming too much.

He expected too much from you.

Whenever you’d fought with him, he’d buy you expensive jewelry or dresses to ease the tension. It never worked.

You feel that slowly, the spark behind your eyes died out. Sooner or later, you’ll join these stuck-up, emotionless robots. All you would care about is money and fame.

“Darling,” you husband calls, snapping his fingers to wake you out of your trance.

Like his lapdog, you turn when beckoned.

“Sorry, what?”

He laughs charmingly.

Oh, how you hated that stupid laugh. It was fake. It didn’t hold any real emotion.

“You seem tired, get some rest for tomorrow.”

One last chance, you think. Tomorrow was the fourth charity event he’d drag you to this week.

“Actually, babe. I was thinking...maybe we could skip tomorrow? Just tomorrow. I was hoping to spend some time with you, you know?” You smile hopefully, setting your wine glass down to hold his arm. “I missed you.”

“I’ve been by your side every day,” he sneers, clearly unhappy about your suggestion.

“And yet you barely even talk to me.” You sigh, screwing your eyes shut to avoid crying in frustration. All you wanted was to revive that initial spark you had with him. “Could you at least come to bed with me tonight?”

Your husband smooths out the sleeve of his white suit. He looks around, noticing that there were a few stragglers tonight. Well, their host certainly couldn’t just leave them.

“Get some rest,” he repeats more sternly. “I’ll be up in a few.”

But of course, you know that he’ll be down here for another three hours.

-

You’ve prepared for this day.

At first, selling whatever jewelry or clothes you didn’t need was just a way to keep money in your savings account. Eventually, putting so much up for sale gave you enough to buy a small house if you really wanted to. Add that up with whatever you had before meeting your husband and you had enough to travel the damn world.

You place an envelope on the nightstand and throw on your backpack. There was a letter for your husband stating you needed some time away -- that everything in Chicago was draining the life out of you. He couldn’t make you stay, not that you think he would try to. Perhaps he’ll pick someone else up on the streets. Maybe they could live this life. But not you.

-

You don’t know where you’re headed off to, but you don’t care.

Even stepping foot out of the mansion gave you a sense of utter joy. You felt so free out here. The people outside give you odd looks, wondering what is up with your attire and travel pack, but you pay them no mind. You plug in your earbuds to listen to one of your favorite songs and walk down the driveway. You were sick and tired of the classical music your husband put on 24/7, not that you minded it. It was just repetitive.

It was a cold night in Chicago and you’re well-prepared for it. After stepping out of the cab, you pull your tight-knit cap over your head, laughing mirthfully at the sight of your breath. Others may think that you had gone mad, but there weren't many out tonight anyway. Besides, You haven’t felt cold since you were back home. Your husband always made sure you were warm, keeping you in the car or in the house when it got chilly. He insisted that a sick wife would be a horrible hostess.

To hell with him.

You decide to buy a ticket all the way to Philadelphia, thanking the exhausted seller along the way. It was a random choice. You’d just chosen whatever you first saw on the screen and ran with it. You wonder if it’ll be nicer farther east. Surely, it was at least more lively than that lonely mansion in Chicago.

You choose a seat in a nearly empty car, wedging your pack between yourself and the window to deter thieves. Sitting in the same car was an elderly couple and a family of five. It was better to be safe than sorry anyway.

The ride is six hours.

Six hours full of thinking and checking your phone that blows up with angry text messages. Some were from your family members, worrying and wondering if you needed therapy for running off. You ignore them, however, and dismiss their worries with an aloof ‘goodbye.’

Pulling out your laptop, you create a word document with a loose plan.

You compile a list of places you could go and where jobs were hiring. You pick out anything and everything that catches your eye.

And then the clearing of a throat startles you.

You realize that the train has stopped so people could get on and off.

A man with shoulder-length brunette hair and a boyish smile looks down at you.

“Mind if I sit?”

You close your laptop warily, taking a quick survey of the car.

The elderly couple was still here, but the family had left. Only one or two people, excluding this man, had gotten on.

“Uhm -- why?” you ask sheepishly, clearly suspicious of his intent.

“You’re in my regular seat,” he teases, a lopsided smirk on his face.

One quick scan sends a shock of recognition in your mind. This guy was an Avenger.

What the hell is he doing here?

Shaking the thought away, you gesture to the seat beside you. Who were you to tell off a national icon? He was a hero to many, including yourself. Back when you were a researcher, you followed his case once or twice, not that you would tell him. “Sit then, you big baby.” You smile a bit to show him that you were joking.

Once he’s beside you, you immediately tense up.

He smells like charcoal and sweat. With a quick glance, you realize that the shirt peeking out from underneath his hoodie is stained in red.

You’re too occupied that you don’t notice him staring back. He wonders if you recognize him, and if so, as the Winter Soldier or as Bucky Barnes?

“You could’ve at least gotten cleaned up before joining me,” you mutter, tearing your gaze away. “I get that you’re a superhero and all, but jeez, you smell like crap.”

Bucky lets out a surprised laugh, running a hand through his hair. “So you do know me,” he murmurs. “Well, you sound like my biggest fan.”

“Are all superheroes this arrogant...or?”

The skin around his eyes wrinkle and he grins in amusement. “Fame gets to our heads sometimes. Don’t be afraid to knock me down a peg or two.”

You open back up your laptop and roll your eyes.

Why he chose to bother you, you’re not sure.

“Trust me, I will.”

-

An hour passes and Bucky slowly coaxes you out of your shell. You’ve long since put your laptop away.

Thankful for the lack of people, you prop your feet against the back of another seat, turning only slightly to talk to him.

By now, you’ve told him where you came from and why you left.

He neither agreed nor disagreed to your plan (or lack thereof), which you were grateful for. He simply wished you luck and told you that he’s glad you left such a shitty situation.

“You know,” you start, plopping a potato-chip into your mouth. Bucky raises an eyebrow, waiting patiently for you. Once you’ve swallowed, you rest your chin on your hand, propping your elbow onto the armrest. “I met Tony Stark once at a gala last year.”

“Really?” He’s genuinely curious. “Was he as horrible to you as he is to the rest of my team?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, no. In fact, he tried to save my ass before I even realized I hated my life.” You remember the night so clearly. You remember Tony and how awestruck you were about meeting such an important figure. If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was for that event and encounter. “He offered me his card when my husband wasn’t looking. Told me to find him if I ever got tired of the prissy life and wanted to use my brain for more important things.”

“Like?”

Your mentally slap yourself. “Oh man, I totally forgot to mention.” Never had people in your life actually cared about your interests or your background. The attention always revolved around your husband. It was only natural you left out details when talking about yourself. “I graduated with a biotech degree. I researched under Doctor Helen Cho when I was in grad school.”

“No fuckin’ way,” Bucky says. You were impressive and full of surprises, he’ll give you that. “That’s awesome! Why didn’t you call him up?”

“Well, first off, I threw away the card.” You shrug. “I kind of took it as a joke. I also didn’t wanna bother him. He’s a busy man.”

“Very,” Bucky agrees. He accepts your answer for now, and instead, pulls your attention over to another topic.

-

After a while of exchanging stories and memories (good or bad), Bucky stops talking and instead stares at you in contemplation.

“Yes?”

He jolts in surprise, apologizing for spacing out. “I was just wondering…”

“About…?”

“Cho did say that she could use another assistant in the lab…” he draws out, a smirk on his lips.

“False advertising will get you nowhere. I know the security risks of being anywhere near the Avengers.”

“A life of danger is way more exciting than keeping a routine.”

Well, now he was just using your plan against yourself.

“And how do I know you're not just some freak from a comic convention, cosplaying as one of America’s finest heroes?” You point to your backpack. “And that you’re not just trynna capture me for ransom or somethin?’”

“I’m gonna set aside that you think of me as a ‘fine’ hero, and ask: you really think people could look as tough as me?” he huffs “you wanna smell the blood on my jacket? I guarantee it’s authentic"

“Oh, dude, I’ve been smelling it since you came up to me.” Your nose scrunches up in disgust and he copies you, feigning irritation.

He self-consciously pulls his hoodie down to cover his blood-stained shirt.

He was the real deal, and you knew it.

“trust me, in New York, you can start fresh. It's not like anyone gives a shit about you there.”

“How reassuring,” you smirk.

-

Your eyes peer over to the screen as the train screeches to a halt.

“That’s our stop,” you announce, nudging him over.

He gets up and offers you a hand, nodding his head. “Yeah, I guess so.” If you didn’t know any better, you would say that he’s disappointed to leave you.

He wonders if he should get your number. No, that was probably weird. You’d just met him. He was a stranger, even if you knew about his title. Still, when your smile drops, he can’t help but think that you’re disappointed in leaving him.

The stop in Philly is hot and humid and Bucky urges you to take off your hat. You do so and he helps stuff it into your backpack. For a moment, he lingers in front of you, unsure of what to say.

It was strange, really. After spending six hours, you knew more about him than you knew of your husband. He leads an interesting life, one that you’d be down for if you weren’t so chicken.

“This is it,” he chuckles nervously, jerking his thumb toward the ticket booth. “I should go buy my ticket. I really hope you find what you’re looking for.” He smiles wholeheartedly, his metal hand around your arm feels warm, despite its usual temperature. “Please stay safe, okay?”

Still in a daze, you remain silent, nodding your head. When he waits awkwardly, you can only say what comes to mind, which isn’t much to start with.

“You too. Stay safe out there.”

The embarrassed look of realization on your face causes him to bark out a laugh. He turns on his heels, starting for the booth.

He really hopes to see you again someday. Maybe he’ll ask Stark to try to reach out to you.

-

The wait for the next train is awfully long, so Bucky decides to grab coffee first.

It was back to the grind, it seems. Tomorrow, he’ll probably be sent out for another mission.

He sighs in exhaustion, taking a sip of the bitter liquid.

“I should’ve gotten her number,” he grumbles to himself.

He feels someone poke the back of his jacket and he feels sorry for whoever touched it. It was probably riddled with disease. He had to pull it out of a stranger’s car after the mission to cover up the crimson on his shirt.

“About this job opportunity,” a familiar voice calls out.

Bucky turns in shock, eyebrows raised.

You’re somewhat of a mess, most likely from running around and looking for him. You pant slightly, trying to catch your breath as you look up in nervousness.

“How late do you think is too late to apply?” you ask, juggling your weight from one foot to the other.

He sees a ticket to Manhattan in one of your hands and tries to ignore the burst of excitement in his chest.

Without asking, he pulls your backpack and hauls it over his shoulder, nodding towards the platform. Come with me. It doesn’t matter, he wants to say. Instead, he breathes out a content sigh and chuckles.

“Never too late so long as you show ‘em how badly you want it.”

When a look of confidence flashes across your face, he guides you along. For once in his life, he’s thrilled about a new change.

This could be good.

For the both of you.

#Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #reader insert #x reader #captain america #The Avengers #the winter soldier #white wolf #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #mcu #marvel #wolf writes #oneshot

[krycss]

Actions Speak Louder Than Words | Jacob Seed x f!Deputy | Ch3

          AO3 Link

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                “It’s nice to see you awake, Catherine.” Joseph spoke softly.

           “You had us worried sick!” Faith held onto Rook’s hand, squeezing it.

           Rook simply gave them a smile, hoping it conveyed ‘sorry to worry you.’

           “The doctor said that you shouldn’t have any issues, just keep your wound clean to prevent infection. Other than that,” John sighed, “it’s just going to be a matter of time for…everything else.”

           Rook noticed John was looking at everything except her. She knew he was sweet on her, he all but shouted it when she first arrived to Hope County. But he knew her feelings were more on the platonic side when it came to the youngest Seed brother. She’d admit he was nice to look at, but she liked someone a little more…subdued. She couldn’t help but feel a knot form in her stomach at his obvious avoidance. Did she really look that bad? She wasn’t much for caring about her appearance if she could help it, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t affected.

           Letting a sigh out, Rook mimed for a piece of paper and a pen. She still couldn’t find it in herself to speak, but she had something important to ask. Faith quickly moved to a small desk in the corner of the room, shuffling around for a notebook and grabbing a pen. Rook nodded in thanks. She scribbled out her question, making sure her penmanship was at least legible.

           What happened? How long?

           Joseph looked up and over at Jacob, who was seated in a chair next to the bed.

           “John, Faith, why don’t you two go get dinner ready? Something light, for our dear Catherine.” Joseph calmly led the two out of the room before closing the door.

           “Where do we even start?” Joseph looked to his older brother.

           “For starters,” Jacob sighed, “let’s get this out of the way. I think next week would have been a month? Maybe a little more. Did they grab you after we ended our call that night?”

           Rook nodded, but her eyes were busy glancing between the two brothers. A month? She knew it had been a while, and quite frankly it had felt like an eternity. She had broken within a month?

           Weak.

           No, Jacob said she was strong. He wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.

           “Cat? We can wait, if you’d rather not know everything right now.” Jacob was watching her closely.

           Rook shook her head. She needed to know. She waved her hand, telling him to continue.

~~~

           “Jacob?”

           The last thing Jacob expected while he was trying to relax after what amounted to a very shitty day, was the quiet voice of one Catherine Rook coming through his radio.

           “Do I even want to know how you got this channel?” Jacob ran a hand down his face.

           “I may have asked Joseph? He was more than willing to assist in my operation to annoy you.” He smiled when he heard her laugh.

           “Of course he did.” Jacob rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

           “What? A girl can’t just hit up her buddy for a little chat?”

           ‘Gonna have to work out the teasing next time she’s here.’ Jacob said to himself.

           “So we’re buddies now, huh? Alright, I’ll bite. Chat.”

           There was a pause. The voice in Jacob’s head told him he may have sounded a little rude. He mentally shoved that voice back into its hole.

           “Uh, haven’t quite figured that part out yet.” Jacob smiled, she was ridiculous. “But, I’m in the area so I figured I’d give ya at least a little warning in case things start blowing up out of the blue. You know how I get.”

           “You know, if you’d just stop escaping when I bring you back you’d be allowed to blow things up, right?”

           Jacob was sat down on the edge of his bed. It had been a while since her last stay at the Veteran’s Center. She was spending a lot of time in John’s region lately.

           “Yeah but where’s the fun in regulated explosives? It’s all about the surprise.”

           “You’ve been hangin’ out with that Boshaw too much.”

           “Probably.”

           Jacob didn’t know how to reply. He was never much of a casual conversationalist. Rook usually ended up being the one to carry them. But even she was being quiet. He’d ask her next time he saw her.

           “Well, I suppose I should probably get some rest. It’s getting pretty late.” Rook’s voice was quiet again.

           Jacob could imagine her curling up to get ready for bed. He wasn’t sure how she managed to sleep as the human pretzel she turned herself into when she was in the cages.

           “Yeah. Need your beauty sleep.” Jacob teased.

           “You suggesting I need more?”

           “I ain’t sayin’ nothin’.” Jacob laughed. “Get some rest though. You need it for wreaking havoc. Make it a big one so I know where to come get ya.”

           “We’ll see what happens. You get some rest too, I know you don’t get nearly enough.”

           Jacob hummed. Even when she was away from him, she was still looking out for him. He shook the thoughts from his head. He knew he was attracted to her – not just physically, though he wouldn’t deny that she was nice to look at – but her strength was what drew him to her. When faced with the cages and the conditioning she took to it like a champ. She almost seemed to enjoy having Jacob be the one to tell her what to do. He knew she wasn’t exactly thrilled with being the one everyone in the county looked up to for guidance. She had told John that much during one of their sessions.

           Neither of them said anything else. When he heard the tell-tale click of her radio shutting off, he figured that was his cue to lay down. He might not be sleeping any time soon, but he could at least rest a little.

              Three days. Three days and not even a whisper of noise from the Deputy. Jacob tried not to think too much on it. She may have been joking around with the part about the explosives. Maybe she had already did what she needed to do and left? Still, he couldn’t help but keep his ears tuned to his radio for any sign of her.

              On the fifth day Jacob’s mood was beginning to be affected. He was pushing his soldiers more, Peaches was getting more shit than necessary, and the Judges even seemed to be antsier. He called both Faith and John to see if Rook was in their regions, both said no. He called Joseph later that night.

           “You heard from Cat?” Jacob asked a little too forcefully.

           “Well hello to you too, brother.” Joseph sighed. “But, no, I haven’t. She didn’t get in touch with you? I gave her a channel.”

           “She did. But that was five days ago, almost six now. And nothing since.” Jacob ran a hand through his beard. “John and Faith haven’t heard from her either.”

           Joseph hummed.

           “Worried about our little lamb?”

           Jacob gripped the radio a little tighter, a hint of possessiveness clouding his mind at his brother’s use of the word “our.”

           “Just don’t want any surprises if her and her lot are up to no good is all.” Jacob droned out. He can’t lose focus. The Project comes first.

           “It’s okay to be worried, brother.” Joseph paused.  “I’ll keep an ear out, and I’ll tell our family to keep tabs as well.”

           They said their goodbyes but Jacob was still itching. He flipped the radio to channel twelve, the channel she called him on and pressed the button.

           What if she was with the resistance? What would they do to her if they heard his voice coming from her radio so casually?

           He released the button.

           “I’ll give her another couple days.”

              When a week of Rook’s silence had passed, Jacob was ready to send out search parties himself. Something had to have gone wrong. His Rook was strong. She was a soldier. Something very wrong must have happened for her to be missing. John informed Jacob that the people of Fall’s End were beginning to get desperate, sending parties out to search for their lost deputy. Even Rye was starting to risk flight into the Whitetails. Jacob didn’t want to ruin Rook’s friends’ chances of finding her by fighting off his soldiers so he held back on sending out teams. He’d wait, and with luck they’d find her for him.

              By the end of the second week, Jacob was fuming. According to his siblings, much of the resistance had stopped sending parties out. The only people who were still really out searching were a few of Rook’s closest friends. Rye had stopped flying around, caring for his family most likely. The Cougars had spent their time trying to fortify the prison since their protector was out of commission for the unforeseeable future. And Jacob hadn’t heard anything from tapping into Eli’s radios that told him he was even bothering to look for Rook. The only people still at least trying whenever they got the chance was Boshaw, his cousin, and Jess Black. Although, Jacob wasn’t sure Black was actively searching so much as just wandering around the Whitetails in her usual fashion.

           Jacob had given up on calling for Rook on her radio at this point. Joseph had tried as well with no luck. Jacob had to know what happened. It was the unknown that bothered him. If they found her dead, then he’d at least know.

              The third week ended; the first week of searching by the Project ended. There was some success. One of the groups sent out had caught wind of someone they thought could be the Deputy in a warehouse near the Lumber Mill, and spotted again briefly near the Ranger Station. There were only so many places to hide someone in the Whitetails and by the beginning of the fourth week, Jacob had a pretty good trajectory of where she could be. Jacob sent out scouting parties with the order to simply find her, don’t interact unless absolutely necessary, and to keep track of her if found. He wanted to be the one to rescue her.

            He once again ignored the voice in the back of his head that suggested that he was selfish and just wanted her indebted to him for rescuing her.

            When he got the call from two of his Chosen that they had confirmation on the Deputy, Jacob couldn’t gear up fast enough. The Chosen had informed him of everything they could gather – Rook was definitely kidnapped, there were only two kidnappers for now, and she would most likely need medical attention. Jacob rushed his way through the Veteran’s Center, barreling through people who didn’t move out of the way fast enough. Peaches, ever the obedient man, was already waiting with a truck ready for Jacob when he arrived. He could tell the man wanted to come along, he knew Staci and the Deputy were close, and that selfish part of his brain once again took over as he left Staci behind in the dust. As he drove he radioed John to get ready with a doctor for Rook. Faith technically had most of the medical teams due to her Bliss productions, but John’s ranch was significantly closer to where Rook currently was.

           By the time Jacob reached the building he had to pry his fingers from the steering wheel after white-knuckling it for so long. He met up with the two Chosen and the three readied their weapons. Jacob was the first one in the door, kicking it down. He’d feel it in the morning but adrenaline allowed him to forget it for the time being. The two captors were quick to try and fight back, firing off pot-shots, but when they saw just who was coming at them they began to back down. The two Chosen were quick to subdue the men, Jacob halting them from executing them just yet. If he knew Rook, he was damn sure she’d want to deal with them if she was able. If not he’d do it.

            It didn’t take much questioning to get the men to tell him where they were keeping her. Running down the hall, Jacob ended up slamming the door open with his shoulder before he could stop himself.

            He had to remind himself to breathe.

            There she was. His perfect soldier, Catherine Rook. Broken. He was proud of her though for making it this long. His gaze was immediately drawn to her face. Her once baby-faced cheeks were starting to sink in, her cheekbones more noticeable in the dim light of the room. Her face was red and blotchy from tears. She whimpered, and his heart just about shattered. He closed the distance between them slowly; he didn’t know what those fuckers had or hadn’t done to her and he didn’t want to frighten her.

            “Gotta admit, ya look like shit.” He said lightly. He smiled, hoping she knew he was trying to make a joke as he cringed at himself.

            Thankfully she did let out a laugh, easing his mind. He knelt down in front of her, allowing them to be at eye-level. Jacob gently brought his hands to her face, absentmindedly rubbing her cheekbones and rubbing away any stray tears. He examined her mouth in detail now that he could see it clearly. Her lips were inflamed, but there didn’t seem to be any infection that he could tell. He could see that her skin had already healed around the wires, making this much more difficult for her he imagined.

            “We’re gonna have t’ take you to John so one of his doctors can look at ya.”

            Her head tilted in his hands. As she processed the information he took out his knife, cutting away at the ties on her limbs.

            “The wire’s embedded into your skin.” He looked back up at her. “Do you know how long it’s been since they did it?”

            He could see Rook lean over to look through the door he came from. His Chosen had the men sat on the floor with their guns to their heads. Rook started breathing heavily. Her sense of time must be completely fucked, he thought. He knew that feeling. He helped pull her up out of the chair but felt her begin to sag as her legs got used to the sensation. He lifted her up into his arms, something he had done only a few times in darkened corners, and noticed she was much lighter than before. She was certainly smaller than when he had starved her. He walked her over to the door, intending to go put her in his truck, when he felt her tap at his arm. She started squirming in his grasp and he helped her down, keeping a hand on her back to steady her. She was shaking. Jacob watched in awe as she mustered whatever strength she had left in her to push his Chosen out of the way and begin beating the absolute shit out of one of her captors. Blood was sprayed all over her and the walls.

            Jacob had to force some rather inappropriate thoughts from taking over his head.

            When she was finished with the man he had already been dead quite a few hits before. Instead of giving the other man the same treatment she instead snatched a gun from one of the Chosen’s hands and shot her other captor between the eyes. She gave the gun back and it seemed that was all the energy she had in her as Jacob saw her knees buckle. Before she could fall too far he was right behind her, lifting her back up into his arms. Jacob walked back to his truck, ordering the Chosen back to the Veteran’s Center. He placed her gingerly into the passenger seat. His chest tightened at seeing her this way. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her hair was dirty, and whatever braid she had it in when this all started was falling apart. He buckled her in, hoping it would keep her at least a little stable on the bumpy roads. Before he pulled back he placed a quick kiss to the top of her head.

            “You’re safe now.”

~~~

            Jacob finished his retelling of what had happened – leaving out certain parts of his story to maintain his reputation in front of his brother.

            Rook just sat there in the bed. She had tucked her knees up under her chin as she processed everything.

            The resistance just…stopped? She knew it wasn’t that far-fetched. They had to continue to defend themselves of course, they had done it before she showed up. Still, it didn’t make the truth any easier to swallow. Assuming it was truth. They wouldn’t lie to her, right?

            “We never gave up hope, Catherine.” Joseph took one of her hands, clasping it between his.

            Rook glanced up at him. She knew what Joseph was doing. Using this situation to curry favor. She nodded her head, hoping that was enough for Joseph. She knew he meant well, in his own particular way. The three of them were drawn out of their silence when Faith called out for dinner from downstairs. Joseph squeezed Rook’s hand before going to grab her notepad and pen.

            “Do you think you could eat? Just a little to get your body back on track?”

            Rook shrugged. She would try at least. She started scooting herself to the edge of the bed. Jacob stood up quickly, holding a hand out to help her. Rook shook her head vehemently. She could do this. She could do at least this much. As if reading her thoughts, Jacob lowered his hand but stood nearby just in case. She appreciated it nonetheless. Her bare feet hit the wood floor and Rook wiggled her toes. She hadn’t realized it when she was in the bed but she had been changed into a pair of pajamas – she really hoped it was the doctor. Using her arms to push herself up, her first step was shaky which caused both Seed brothers to stand a little closer. Rook took a deep breath before her next step. She stumbled a small bit but caught herself in time.

            Weak.

            ‘I can do this.’ She scolded herself.

            Rook managed to get out of the doorway with no help but when she reached the stairs she knew she would need help.

            Weak.

            She clenched her fists and glared at the stairs. Jacob came up behind her, placing a hand gently on her arm.

            “Come on.”

            He gripped her arm, helping her take the first step down. She leaned into him. She hated that she needed the help, but she’d be lying if she didn’t enjoy getting help if it was from Jacob. Each step after the first got harder and harder. By the time they reached the bottom she was breathing heavily and ready to lay down.

            Cull the weak.

#actions speak louder than words #far cry 5 #jacob seed x deputy #fc5 fanfiction #jacob seed

[minaminokyoko]

How about favourite captain America movies scenes?

WELL YOU ASKED FOR IT PAL.

The First Avenger

-Steve at the movie theater, telling that douche to shut up and getting his little ass kicked for his trouble. Oh, Steve. Goddammit, Steve. You are too pure and good and wonderful for all of us. I like that it’s both a good quality trait and a weakness for Steve that he can’t abide bullies and he’ll stand up to anyone even if all it means is he’ll just get the stuffing beaten out of him. Plus, Bucky stepping up to help his idiot best friend is so heartwarming it’s insane. I love that Bucky is just fucking used to Steve getting himself beaten up because he stands up to shitty men. That’s best friends for you. 

-Peggy punching the bejeezus out of Whatshisface in the troops’ first scene together. Oh, dear Lord. Where do I start? First, her telling him to step forward. Second, the completely placid look before she does it. Third, the fact that she puts his bitch ass on the ground no trouble. Fourth, Steve’s appreciative smile. Fifth, the General not even blinking that she flattened that douche. It’s just brilliant.

-Steve jumping on the grenade. Standing ovation. Steve is too good and too pure a cinnamon roll for any of us.

- “Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.” This is the heart and soul of Captain America and Steve Rogers and I cannot stress enough how this is honestly probably my favorite scene of the movie. We follow this guy not because of the strength of his body, but the strength of his heart. Steve has all the heart.

-Bucky and Steve being reunited. The best bros just knock it out of the park. 

-Peggy’s reaction to Steve returning with all the captured soldiers. Seriously, it is the most NC-17 thing I’ve ever seen in a PG-13 movie. That smile Steve gives her and the smile she gives him right back is 100% code for “if we weren’t in the middle of this camp right now, I would tear your clothes off and fuck you to Jupiter and back.” It’s such a pure, awesome moment of sexual tension, and it’s done in such a classy way. I love that scene to death. They eye-fucked the shit out of each other and I adore the overwhelming yet subtle acknowledgement of what’s going on between them.

-Steve having a picture of Peggy in his pocket watch, and the fact that Peggy sees this during the little film montage. I want to scream. I LOVED the General giving her an amused side eye but not actually saying anything. It was a wonderful little nod to Steve’s reciprocated feelings for her. 

-Steve and Peggy’s kiss. Whyyyyyyyyyyy, Lord? Whyyyyyyyyyy? Why didn’t they get more time together?! They were so fucking cute and I know if they’d have gotten together, it’d have been amazing and wonderful and they would have been so happy. Dammit.

The Winter Soldier

Disclaimer: Legit, The Winter Soldier is arguably one of the best comic book movies ever made and it is taking so much restraint for me not to list the entire goddamn film as my favorite scene, because I love it from end to end. Gun to my head, I’d say my Top 3 MCU films would be this, Ragnarok, and either Avengers 1 or Avengers 3. It’s really hard to pick out scenes in a perfect movie.

-Sam and Steve’s introduction to each other. The sheer chemistry here is stellar. I was in stitches that Steve Rogers was just okay with teasing a total fucking stranger for no reason other than just lolz. I love that TWS starts out reminding us that Steve isn’t some humorless do gooder. He has a great sense of humor and he’s just a friendly guy in general, so they couldn’t have picked a better scenario to introduce their dynamic. I adore that opening scene, man.

-Taking back the ship. Fuck, dude. Talk about one of the best executed action scenes in the MCU. Everything from Cap racing around just laying those fucking dudes out on his own to Nat popping in to the absolutely genius execution of Cap vs. Batroc. Oh, if a film scene could get me pregnant, it’d be that one, man. I fucking love that entire damn sequence.

-Nick Fury vs. Hydra. I appreciate this simply because we saw some badass Nick Fury in Avengers, but this was a delightful addition to remind us that the man is the head of SHIELD for a reason. He is NOT to be fucked with. He is a very capable agent and held his own and it was awesome.

-The elevator fight scene. ‘Nuff said.

-Natasha confronting Steve with the flash drive. So this was the first moment where I knew I was going to ship Captasha/Romanogers until the end of time, regardless of the canon. I loved this interaction. Steve is frustrated and suspicious, and so is Nat, but they both find a common ground and realize neither one is actually the enemy. I especially love: “Bye bye, bikinis.” “Yeah, I bet you look terrible in ‘em now.” That snark tho. Cap is flawless, and there is a healthy dollop of sexual tension delightfully overlaid with this scene of him backing her up against a wall and then her showing some skin. Yas lawd. 

-Steve and Nat undercover at the mall. Not only is it just funny as hell and delightfully awkward, but it really shows off the great chemistry between the two of them. You’d think that with them being polar opposites that they’d butt heads, but they actually just complement each other extremely fucking well. Then there’s the exquisite escalator kiss. I mean, mm, did that look yummy. Even Steve comes out of it like, “well, damn.”

-The car conversation on the way to Jersey. I think that I would’ve only liked this movie, not loved it, if Nat hadn’t been there. I think Nat’s presence is what helped make this one of the MCU’s best films period. The honesty between them as they have probably one of their first real conversations getting to know each other is amazing. I adore this scene. I adore seeing them bond. “That’s a tough way to live.” “Good way not to die, though.” I think that is one of the best lines in the whole MCU, personally. 

-Recovering at Sam’s place. First off, the two of them sharing the guest room and bathroom says a whole lot of shit right there. It’s an implied intimacy. Then Cap walking over and just knowing in his gut that Nat isn’t okay, and just gently, gently asking her what’s wrong is so important to both of their characters. You get to see them go from coworkers to friends and from friends to good friends in such an amazingly short period of time that it’s so heartwarming. Evans and Johansson have worked on several films together, and this is definitely one of those things where they just play off each other so well from being friends in real life. I love the inflections. I love the close up on their expressions. I love how Steve is able to get Nat to lower her walls and just talk to him about how she’s feeling, and how she sincerely thanks him, and how she’s even a little scared when she asks “if it were down to me to save your life, and you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?” and Steve emphatically answers, “I would now” and then smiles at her so sweetly and makes a little joke. I just…my heart, man. My heart. Steve and Nat’s relationship is possibly my favorite out of all the Avengers, and I should note that Chris Evans ships it and I am really happy about that fact.

-The Winter Soldier’s attack. Flawless. This fucking sequence is flawless. Getting to see everyone’s skills on display, and then capped with the emotional realization from Steve that his best friend is not only alive, but has been brainwashed and is trying to kill them, is just so great. Huge, huge kudos to Evans, Stan, Mackie, and Johansson as well as their stunt team and the choreographers, because it’s some of the most gorgeous, polished action I’ve ever laid eyes on. Especially Evans and Stan’s fight. Wow, that could not have been easy and it’s all them when there are close ups during the knife fight. I really appreciate them going HAM on that shit. It turned out beautifully.

-“But I knew him.” Yep. Let me die. Just let me die. Poor tortured Bucky’s memories surfacing at the sight of his best friend saying his name just tears me up inside. Ugh. Bury me. 

-Cap remembering Bucky’s words after his mother’s funeral. Bury me again.

-Cap’s speech to SHIELD after they arrive at the HQ. Hnnnnnnngh. I would die for Steve Rogers. Without question. This speech is why. He knows that he might die trying to stop Hydra, but he gives those people the choice to do what’s right at great cost, and he believes that they will do the right thing, and he’s absolutely right. I had mentioned years ago that this is why the DCEU’s current Superman has failed; that trait, believing in people despite evidence pointing to the opposite, is what make Cap and Superman two American icons. This is why we rally behind them as characters. Because they believe in us and they believe we are worth protecting. It’s a fucking shame the DCEU writers don’t understand that and have forced a decent actor like Henry Cavill to be a morose, joyless, brooding Superman, and don’t even try to tell me they “fixed” him in the JLA movie, because they retconned it and thought that did the trick, and they were wrong. What Cap said in that speech is precisely why he is as great a man as we’ve all come to love over the years. It’s nothing short of incredible.

-The entire ending helicarrier sequence. Good to the last fucking drop, man. Everything about it is flawless. Especially “You’re my mission!” “Then finish it. ‘Cause I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.” Cue me screaming and crying and clawing down my curtains. Bucky pulling Steve from the river turns me into an absolute wreck of emotions. 

Civil War

-Cap consoling Wanda after the bullshit news report. Man, fuck the whole ass world for that reaction, by the way. Wanda saved that entire marketplace full of people, but she still got blamed for intervening anyway, and we know Crossbones would’ve killed countless people if they hadn’t stopped him, so you can all fuck off. But what I really like about this scene is Cap’s almost fatherly concern for her, knowing she was still recovering from the pain of losing her twin brother not too long ago. He understands the loss and the pain she feels and knows that she has doubts about herself and he’s there to assure her he doesn’t blame her, if that is any consolation. Cap is so conscious of her needs and emotions that it’s extremely touching to see, even though the scene is brief.

-The team going over the Accords and choosing sides. This was very well done, as everyone’s reactions are very interesting. I personally don’t see how the hell anyone could be Team Iron Man, but that’s just me. I at least like that Tony’s actions are justified in that he has been trying so hard this whole time to do the right thing, but it feels like the harder he tries, the more awful things become until he’s left with no good choices at all. I feel for him. So much. I feel for Cap as well knowing that about Tony and yet being unyielding in his feelings about the Accords.

-Nat comforting Steve at Peggy’s funeral. Cue gross sobbing. Damn, this is why I ship Captasha so hard. She tells him that she’s pretty much going along with the Accords for the sake of keeping their little family together if possible, and Steve sadly tells her he can’t do it, but she already knows, and she’s just there to support him. That’s love. You can debate if it’s platonic or romantic, but that scene is just pure love between Nat and Steve. She is there for no other reason than to hug her friend and check on him and make sure he knows he is not alone in this awful time in his life. It’s by far one of the most touching scenes in the entire MCU. 

-The death of T’Chaka. Oh my God. Give Chadwick Boseman all the awards. How did we become that emotionally attached to him in such a short amount of time? Wow. I mean, wow, was that powerfully acted. 

-Nat warning Steve not to intervene. Again, you can’t tell me these two people don’t love each other. She’s so worried about him, and even Sam acknowledges that she’s not wrong to want them to stay out of it since they’ll now get arrested. 

-Everyone chasing after Bucky. Hnnnnnngh, yes please, this shit was awesome. Especially Cap and T’Challa racing over moving fucking cars and Bucky snatching that motorcycle mid-air. I love that scene with all my heart and soul.

-”So, you like cats?”

-Bucky’s escape. Seriously, the Winter Soldier is not to be trifled with. Holy hell, does he put everyone through their paces.

-Tony recruiting Peter Parker. And now we have it, the shining crown jewel of Tony Stark’s development as a character, in the form of a tiny adorable baby he adopts to fight a ninety year old veteran. I know, right? I never expected that Tony recruiting Parker would be anything like what we got and yet it’s by far one of my favorite relationships in the MCU. It’s so genuinely cute and sweet and the word choice during that scene in Parker’s room is very important from a character standpoint. “When you can do what I can do, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen…they happen because of you.” Without saying it out loud, they were able to convey what happened to Uncle Ben, and that’s really good storytelling, man. You see this kid is hurt and blames himself and he will do anything to make up for his sins. Tony is even touched by it. Plus, the humor in that scene is awesome and it’s so warm and evident that RDJ and Tom Holland really got along and had chemistry.

-Recruiting Scott Lang. It’s so brief, but that fucking scene puts me in stitches every time, especially Paul Rudd’s improv of grabbing Chris Evans’ shoulders when he sees just how goddamn built and cut the man is. I thought that was genius. It’s so perfect.

-”Can you move your seat up?” “No.”

-The airport fight scene. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. This is so good. For so many reasons. How it’s staged. How it starts off quiet and it slowly builds tension. How Tony is so hurt that Cap appears to be choosing Bucky over him, how Cap is protecting him, how Tony absolutely doesn’t want to fight his friend and yet they are on opposite sides anyway. “You’re gonna come with us because it’s us.” The utter desperation in Tony’s eyes when he almost begs Cap to turn himself in is so heartbreaking. It kills me, man. Emotions aside, I simply love all the fights and the various match ups. Especially Spidey versus Bucky and Sam (”Couldn’t you have done that earlier?” “I hate you.”) and Spidey versus Cap (”That thing does not obey that laws of physics at all!”) and Spidey versus Ant Man. It’s all so glorious.

-Nat stopping T’Challa from getting to Bucky and Steve. It’s raining on my face. “You’re not gonna stop.” “You know I can’t.” “I’m gonna regret this. Go.” It’s so important. It’s so important, y’all. Nat chose Steve when it mattered most and I ship them until my dying breath.

-“Vengeance has consumed you. It is consuming them.” All the awards, Chadwick. All the motherfucking awards. 

-The final scene of Steve walking up to Sam’s cell. There’s just something about the playful confidence and determination in his expression that despite how sad the ending is that Tony and Cap are no longer on speaking terms that it gives you just a tiny flicker of hope that maybe things will be okay for Team Cap. 

Well, there you go. Cap and Thor are currently tied for the top spot in my heart of Favorite Avenger, hence all the word vomit. Sorry, not sorry. 

#Steve Rogers #Captain America #Captain America The First Avenger #The Winter Soldier #CATWS #Civil War #CACW

[ephemeralem0tions]

Stow Away PART 3 - Hanji: Home

Now I’ve posted a full chapter here on tumblr unlike the last one wherein I asked people to go to my AO3 account instead. But I would appreciate it if you check out the AO3 Version as well

Theme: Captain Levi and Stow Away

Rating: PG

Warning: Curse Words, Eye Water? Maybe, Graphic depictions of violence (does this count as nsfw?)

AO3 version overe here x

Send a request here >>> ASK

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 4 || PART 5

"Levi!" she waved at the short man as he passed by the dock, jogging with his co-trainees. She picked up her pace and caught up with him who scowled at the sight of her. "I know you missed me" he 'tsked' at her statement while she laughed.

"Shitty glasses what are you doing here, aren't you supposed to leave at damn five in the morning? Took a quick crap or something?" his sense of humor never changed.

"Yeah, quite a long shit actually" he tripped and she chuckled even more. "I'm just here to say goodbye"

"You talk like you'll never return four eyes" he hissed.

"Of course I'd be back!" she assured him. "Just not leaving for five months without you knowing. Plus you'd be graduating in a few more weeks, I figured I should say good luck for your final assessment and congratulations for being a General" she smiled at him while he stopped on his tracks to look at her with a surprised face.

"What do you mean General you four eyes?" he whispered.

"I'm not supposed to tell you, but Erwin had plans to make you a General" she ran away from him.

"Oi shitty glasses come back here!" he growled while she just laughed, running back towards the galleon where they would sail in a few moments. She smiled, she could never get used to finally sailing the world in expeditions. This would be her third assignment, two years after graduating, yet her excitement never faltered.

"I'll be back I promise!" she hollered, staring back momentarily before resuming her sprint towards the ship.

"Miss Hanji!" Moblit screamed as soon as her feet padded the wooden platform to board. "We've been looking for you for about ten minutes now, we would have already left you" he scolded her, and on cue, the ship began to move, just as she hung on to one of the sail’s ropes.

"Well I can't leave without assuring him of my return, he'd already lost enough when we were attacked in the barracks almost two years ago" her eyebrows furrowed at the reminiscent of the unfaithful night.

"But I hope you won't run away so suddenly all the time" Moblit sighed. She placed her arm around his shoulders as he crouched down to her height.

"I'll be fine as always Moblit, don't baby me" she chuckled. "I made it out of training and did not get deployed for office work. I've went through so much hardship you can probably throw me in the ocean and I'd find my way back safely" she joked. "So lighten up and stop being such a huge ball of anxiety" she patted his shoulder with her free hand. "Now! We sail the seas!"

Her hand gracefully moved through the paper, defining lines and removing those that don't matter much. The sun warming up her face on contrast to the semi-cold wind that brushed through. She had just finished monitoring the water conditions, it was a perfect day to sail, and a perfect day to relax. She wondered if Levi also saw the beautiful calm sky at the moment, or if the weather was even perfect back in Britain. He sure deserved a better world, one where he could feel safe and never alone.

She set down her journal, finally satisfied with the portrait of Levi she drew. Moblit was a better artist than her, she made a mental note to have him fix the portrait for the later. It wasn't perfect, yet as long as she got the eyes right, she was okay with it. It was what mattered, his cold and unexpressive eyes that only she, had the privilege to see right through.

A loud thud startled her. She stood up from the side of the deck and followed the noise. A faint groan followed after, something was wrong. She fished out the knife Levi had given to her as a gift when she graduated. It was a replica of his own, nothing like the others. It was beautiful, with intricate patterns carved in silver along the handle. She treasured it, and brought it everywhere like he did with his. It was always latched down her thigh, prepared for any battle that came in her way.

"Titans!" a booming voice shouted from the top of the foremast before a black signal flare was fired. Soon after, hooks came shooting from below every direction of the deck.

Her blood ran cold, a sense of deja vu happening inside her mind. How she despised the titans for making hers and Levi’s life miserable. It had been three years since she fought war with them unexpected, and here she was again, feeling the flames of the enemy’s wrath.

She hid herself behind some barrels, not having any gun to fight with. A shot rang, the soldier who first spotted the terrorists plunging down to the hard wooden floors of the deck, bleeding and without life. Her heartbeat accelerated, she was seeing her colleagues lifeless and murdered once again.

"Watch out!" she heard from behind her, just as a bomb rolled a few inches from her. She quickly rolled away, covering her ears as the explosion happened. She hissed at the heat and checked herself as she stood up, no burns, but a scab had formed on one of her arms that hit the floor. She stood up, flipping her dagger to block an opponent's sword in front of her. She gave him no time to recover and kicked him right at the stomach, causing him to fall with a groan.

"Miss Hanji!" Moblit's worried voice echoed through the crowd.

"Moblit I'm right here!" she screamed, trying to head towards his direction, only to be blocked by another Titan who looked at her with a dirty smirk.

"Lassy, what do you say I spare you if you come with me for some fun aye?" she cringed upon his words.

"There's no way I'd side with an enemy, but I'd spare you a dance!" she shouted and spun to hit his foot, but he was quick to jump and punch her to the gut.

"I hate to break it to you lassy, but I'm a good dancer" he smirked.

“Wanna bet?!” she growled, remembering Levi’s lesson about footwork, she went from under his legs when he attempted to kick her and slashed his right ankle. He fell down, hissing as a red streaks began to trickle down the floor.

"Miss Hanji! Where are you! No! Don't lower it yet please!" she heard Moblit again, pleading.

"Moblit!" she screamed back, yet she was grabbed by her opponent on the floor. "In a real war, nothing is fair, even if the combat had been done, if your enemy is still alive, there’s a chance of you dying" she growled, muttering her own words. She lunged her dagger towards the hand that wrapped around her ankle. Decapitated fingers dropping to the deck and she made her escape, dodging from side to side.

Another bomb exploded from the bridge, The captain crawling out when his incomplete lower limbs failed him. Her breathing became ragged, hearing, becoming deafening silence, then a long beep. Fire covered her surroundings, hot and suffocating, the wooden fourth of the deck behind burning within the rage. Her mind drifted off to Levi, who would be waiting for her to come back, supposedly after five months. She could not give up, someone was waiting for her. She certainly would not die here and now, not when there is something beautiful waiting for her back home.

"No please we have to wait for the rest of the Intelligence Division! Miss Hanji Zoe and Miss Ilse Langnar are still in there!" Moblit pleaded once more, his voice snapping her out of her trance.

"Boy we aren't dying here! Lower the mast!" she saw him, as he wailed, trying to get out of the escape boat, his voice desperately searching for her, yet he was held down by all the frightened men who refused to make his request.

"Miss Hanji! She's right there!" his eyes met hers while he pointed, asking for his comrades to save her.

"There are other boats about to be let down boy get down!" just as she was about to run to be spared, five explosions simultaneously blew, targeting the other escape pods. Moblit's boat fell down to the ocean, mast breaking from sudden the tension.

"Moblit!" she peaked from the deck, while he waved furiously at her. "Moblit I'll find a way to get out of here! Go now!" a growl approached from behind her, she whipped her only weapon, almost out of time.

She held the sword she was blocking from the dull side of the blade and pushed as hard as she could, her back leaning towards the railing of the deck. A sudden sting from her left arm made her wince. Blood trickled down from her peripheral vision, but it only served as another motivator for her to fight, and go home. The man she was faced with smirked, she followed his gaze down to her beloved knife and growled.

"Ohh no you ain't getting this" she hissed, using her knee to hit him at the side and twist his arm forward. She bended, bringing the man to her back and hoisted him to fall towards the water. She dodged another one that punched and lifted a leg so her new attacker would also fall off the ship. She silently wished the ocean would devour them, all of the Titans, but she knew it was impossible.

A massive explosion came from the rudder and the galleon started to tip from behind. She ship was totally hopeless, it was going to sink. She immediately ran towards the bow sprit, if something was to sink last, it would be it. She watched as others rolled and fell, loosing balance and sliding through the floor, possibly meeting their death once the ship completely sinks as they get covered and drift off to the depths of the ocean. She dodged through them, keeping her target location in mind. Her journal slid at the deck, she caught it and held on to a stray rope which was thankfully connected to the wooden bow sprit. She used all her strength, pulling with her arms and ignoring the burning sensation on her palms.

Once she reached the the top of the sinking boat, she tiptoed carefully to the edge, placing both the journal and the dagger in her belt pockets. She didn't think twice, diving towards the water as soon as wood started to crack. She swam as far as she could before grabbing a stray piece of oak that floated beside her. She panted, laying her head to the side as she watched the galleon sink, deeper and deeper until it was out of sight. Her eyes began to searched for Moblit's boat, they already seemed like a small spec from the other side of her.

“Moblit!” she screamed, although her throat was restrained from the saltiness that came through her lips when she dove. “Moblit!” She hollered again, hoping for a response, but she got none. Tears started to fall from her face, as the small spec of hope she once saw, finally turned to nothing.

She coughed out the remainder of the water that entered her system, gasping to replace them with air instead. She threw the piece of wooden plank that kept her afloat for hours aside. Her legs wobbled like jelly, eventually giving up as she laid down on the sand, not minding the grains that stuck to her hair, fingers, and wet clothes. She was beyond tired, having to swim non-stop till she sighted land.

“Dios mío!” (My God) she whipped her head to the sound of the voice, a platinum short-haired woman running down barefoot to her aid. “Querida- dios mío! Qué le pasó!?” (Dear- my God! What happened!?) her eyes squinted, not knowing what the girl who now knelt beside her, was saying.

“Rico! Encontraste un sirena?” (Rico! Did you find a mermaid?) another man started to jog to their direction.

“Mitabi! No es el momento para bromas! Ayúdame aquí!” (Mitabi! This is not the time for jokes! Help me here!) the tall man groaned, lowering himself down before lifting her up. She flinched at the sudden touch, but her mind clouding up with fatigue, slowly making her drift off to unconsciousness.

“Querida! Cual es su nombre?” (Dear! What is you name?) the girl’s voice was starting to put her to sleep, the foreign language ringing unto her like a lullaby, beautiful and sweet. “Querida! Quédate por favor! Quédate con nosotros!” (Dear! Stay awake please! Stay with us!), the tempting slumber finally taking over her.

“Ella empieza a despertar!” (She’s starting to wake up!) she groaned, feeling the soreness of her whole body as the unfamiliar language rung against her ears once more.

“Bueno, no asustes a la pobre chica Mitabi” (Well, don’t startle the poor girl Mitabi) the woman shushed her companion as she finally took a clear look at them, this time, not in the verge of passing out. “Cómo estás?” (how are you?) she was sure the woman asked her a question, based on her tone, but she did not know what it was, nor what to answer.

She started to lift her back up from the bed, her hand flying to her head almost immediately as she felt sudden dizziness. She took notice of the way her scarred arm was now bandaged, her white button up now changed into a yellow one. As much as her legs felt numb and her body ached, she remembered her journal and dagger. Her eyes searched frantically for her items, upon not feeling down down her thigh.

“Ay ay ay querida! Necesitas descansar primero!” (Oh no dear! You need to rest first!) The girl placed hands around her shoulder attempting to make her calm down.

“My dagger!” she hollered. “Where did you take it!” the woman only looked at her confused, a language barrier suddenly making her frustration ride even more. “My knife! Where did you take it!?” she screamed, the woman flinching at her sudden volume.

“Rico! Un paso atrás” (Rico! Stand back!) the man protectively had his arms around his companion while she stood up, enduring the pain that she felt.

She scouted the small house, a space with nothing much to hold except the bed she laid on, a small kitchen and dining table enough for two, and one long couch to rest on. Her eyes finally set on her holster that was placed safely on the kitchen counter, along with her now dried up journal. She quickly limped towards her belongings and latched them around her tie, a sense of security taking over her.

She looked back at the duo who had only seemed to take care of her for what she could assume was a couple of days. She sighed, knowing she had done nothing for them in return, and even scared them with her impulsive behavior.

“Thank you” she softly whispered, taking one final apologetic look at her saviors before making it out of the small shack.

She put her hand out unto her eyes for shade as sunlight and tropical heat enveloped her as soon as she stepped out on the streets. The sound of waves hitting the shore were faintly heard as she looked around her. Her surroundings looked like a small town beside the sea, one that lived off fishing and trading basing off the small market that she was now padding on.

It was a busy place, merchants and buyers hollering over the foreign language se could never get accustomed of. She was searching of a clue on where she was, hoping that she could at least make a way for home once she knew the place. Vendor stalls had one thing in common, ‘Cádiz’ written on the wooden frames before what they sold. She thought well of her geography, and silently thanked her knowledge for knowing that she was in Spain.

A ship’s honk caught her attention, the loud blare echoing through the busy street. She followed the noise and spotted trading galleons in the distance, her feet padded forward, towards the wooden dock, then down to hide inside an empty barrel. She peeked outside the hole, cautious of any person who might detect her presence. She waited till she was lifted, men groaning and complaining about how one particular load was heavier than the others. She may be guilty as a stow away, but she’d get used to the consequences of getting lost over time.

Her laughter erupted from the roof top, as foreign curse words hollered from below. She bit an apple, sticking out a tongue at her pursuers who could do nothing else now that she was four or five meters off the ground, unreachable and definitely full of loot.

It had been almost a year since she had left the mother land, a year she’s been far off from home, and a year away from Levi. Even if she was used to being a shoplifter to get though, shifting towns everyday or two, cities in a week or less, and countries in a month or more, day by day, her thoughts would always go back to the home where she truly belonged. Heart yearning to go back, and hopes, never dying that she would soon board a boat that would be her free ticket home.

She slung her newly filled sack over her shoulders and threw the finished core back to the angry mob, chuckles masking the apologetic and sad look on her. She was used to being a criminal in order to survive, but it didn’t mean she liked it. It was just a final resort when running out of choices, a decision she made to sustain herself. Not that she’d be staying in one place too long to be caught by local police or military anyway.

She hopped off from the roof and landed on a secluded alley way, devoid of any human attention. She slung a merchant’s cloak she had stolen from the past city she had been to, over her shoulders, and pulled the hood down her head to cover her face. The next agenda was to make it out of the town, an hitch a ride on a farmer’s carriage to go to Brazil, where hopefully, she can board another ship and sail to another destination.

The crowd kept her blended, she made her way through the streets without getting caught and soon found a kid she bribed with a bag of candy.

“Cuál es tu nombre?” (What is your name?) she asked him with the smile, the boy seeming kind enough, responded to her.

“Connie Señora” (Connie madam) he smiled.

“Adónde te diriges?” (Where are you headed off to?)

“Uruguay” the boy answered. She took the small pouch out of her bag and looked in, counting if it would be enough to repay the teen. Nostalgia washed over her, remembering the time she gave Isabelle a bag of candy so she could pipe down. Now, she would double over, or even give all the candy in the world just to hear her voice again. She brushed away her thoughts and gave the kid the bag of sweets.

“Puedes dejarme abordar contigo? Por favor?” (Can you let me board with you? Please?) the boy took a peek, then drew one out to taste. Once his face lit up, he gave her a sweet nod, making her grin much wider.

“Por favor, espere un momento, señora. Usted puede montar en el carro con las mercancías mientras que llamo a mi amigo Sasha” (Please wait a moment madam. You can ride in the carriage with the goods while I call my friend Sasha). She followed the boys request and patiently sat at the rear, while the boy retrieved a brunette from a nearby cantina. They were soon off from Argentina, then Uruguay where she knows she can walk till the boundary and shores of Brazil.

She took out her journal carefully, looking at its worn out and nearly full pages. Aside from new discoveries and language notes, she kept a small diary in it to confide whenever she felt the need to. But most important of all, the small portrait of Levi she drew before the tragedy, served as a small reminder for her, that he’d be waiting no matter what.

She looked at the ship in front of her, the familiar name having a ring on her, although she had forgotten why.

“S.S. Wings of Freedom” she read, having to squint, due to her worsening eyesight. Five years, she didn’t change glasses, and five years, her hopes never changed. She just kept on hitch hiking, walking, traveling, living the life as a stow away, knowing one day, she may go home.

Her figure reduced immensely, ribs and bones, showing off, unlike the time when she trained, and muscle was prominent despite her thin stature. Her cheeks had caved in as well, becoming more hollow than before.

She admitted to getting tired of the life she lived, but she was never tired of searching for home, for a way back to him. Although sometimes, her mind would tell her that its logical to just give up, probably starve somewhere or go to jail and have no problems about finance and food for the next ten years, her heart would always have home etched unto it. She might have been declared dead from the last expedition she partook in and failed, but she had her instincts that told her to move forward. A feeling, that someone is also looking for her, and that someone, was in the name of Levi.

She poked out her tongue and scratched her head, trying to remember where she saw the Wings of Freedom before. She had thought of the chances that she already board the boat before, after all, the Philippines is a small country compared to those she roamed around in for the past few years, but it did not quite ring for that option. She thought of an insignia, or a clan that came up with it, but to no avail, she thought of nothing. Her instincts yet again, bothered her, telling her to board and be either, home, or at least close to home.

“Oluo!” A ginger woman screamed, making her hide behind a crate in an instant. She looked at the in coming pair, a set of British features and language making her eyes light up, but the sight of blood, making her wince despite the injury not being her own. “I really wonder how you manage to bite your tongue so much” she scolded her companion.

“Geez Petra you worry to much! Lets just load the crates and be gone with this filthy dock” the way he spoke, quite familiar to her, yet not quite, and weird.

She sneaked inside one of the crates labelled ‘watermelons’, keeping an eye out through one of the holes to observe her surroundings.

“Stop acting like the captain and just do some work will you” she leaned backwards as the pair made their way to her direction.

The man started to lift her crate, he made a smirk at the woman beside him while she rolled her eyes, an amused grin plastered across her lips as he tried to show off. He huffed and cracked his knuckled, preparing to lift. Hanji muffled out a laugh as he dropped the crate back to the dock with a thump, not even an inch up the air. The woman laughing as well with his mishap.

“Don’t laugh at me!” the man growled, but the girl never stopped laughing. “Oi Gin! Help me with this one! Shitty melons so fucking heavy!”

“I said stop copying the captain” the girl turned back to a serious tone as the crate was finally lifted off the ground.

“Aye aye Petra” she heard him groan.

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 4 || PART 5

#stow away #part 3 #prompt #fic #levihan #levi x hanji #hanji #zoe #levi #ackerman

[projectmedusarp]

Welcome Karen! We’re pleased to announce your audition for Simon Fielding / Aerokinesis has been accepted! Please send your account into the main within the next 24 hours. We can’t wait to have you join us!

{{ PLAYER INFORMATION }}

NAME: Karen

AGE: 25

TIMEZONE: PST

PRONOUNS: She / Her

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I just finished one of my classes for the summer, so my activity level is quite high since I only have one class and a part-time job. I will be more active in the nights in Pacific Time as I do look after my little sister in the afternoon. Regardless, I should be able to check in at the very least once a day! 

PREVIOUS ROLEPLAY EXPERIENCE: Too long! RPing in general (I started off on proboards/invisionfree) almost a decade ago, haha. I’ve been around Tumblr for the past 5/6 years, but the last year I haven’t been RPing too much. This account is a 1x1 account that I have with a friend, but this one is probably one of my past active accounts. http://arianna-carrington.tumblr.com/  It’s been a year since it’s been active, but it was one of my favorite characters.

PERSONAL TUMBLR CONTACT: Link Removed

TRIGGERS: None

{{ CHARACTER INFORMATION }}

CHARACTER: Simon Fielding

PRONOUNS: He/Him

AGE: 22

FACE CLAIM: Dan Stevens

POWER: Aerokinesis

QUOTE: “When you lie, people die. That’s the way it is out there… but here? People lie to get by.”

PERSONALITY:

Integrity – Growing up in a military family and being a veteran himself, he grew to know what taking full responsibility for his actions meant and he does not lie. What comes with the military is that, ‘when you lie, people die’ so even if there are shortcomings and he has failed something, he will always be forthright and honest about it.

Initiative – People who know Simon aren’t sure if it’s his initiative or impulsivity that gets him to go above and beyond. He always puts himself at risk in order to help others and he does his best to complete a task with much haste and minimal guidance or direction from his seniors. The goal in the military is to surpass expectations and training and being deployed with the Marines, he did just that.

Pessimistic – Because of his time served and growing up with the distant, strict, military family, he finds himself always looking to the downside of things. Simon tries to keep his negative thoughts to himself because he knows his negativity does nobody any good, but he is always thinking of the worst scenario that could happen in any given situation. However, some colleagues would say that was what made him a good soldier – always looking at the different outcomes.

Private – Despite spending years deployed and spending days, weeks, and months with the same platoon, not much was found out about Simon as he tends to keep to himself. He is more of a listener – he listens to other people as they tell their stories and doesn’t tell too much of his life. There are only three people in his life who know what his middle name is and they’re his family. What is his life is his life and he doesn’t see the need to share with others.

Logical – Simon’s ability to look at things from a logical instead of an emotional side is what drew him towards the Marines. The Marines were hard hitting, made snap decisions, and did more work than the other branches of the military. Emotions were not part of that capacity – he had to do what was in the best interest of his people even if may have not been the ‘ethically right’ decision. Logically, he did what made sense.

Respectful – The fact of the matter is that he grew up calling his mother and father, “Ma’am” and “Sir”, therefore those characteristics and quirks are ingrained within him. Respect was the first thing he learned growing up and he was told that he was to give it to every person he came into contact with. It didn’t matter if they were older, younger, smaller, or taller – respect was what he gave out no matter what. Some people in his platoon said that it was one of his downfalls; others said it was his greatest asset.

BIOGRAPHY:

“Military Brat” was what Simon was called quite often as their family never stayed in a place for too long. With both of his parents, George and Macy, enlisted for deployment in the Navy, both he and his sister Amy found themselves only spending a school year – sometimes less – in the same spot. So, naturally the two of them did whatever the hell they could – they skipped classed and learned to shoot out in the middle of nowhere with one of their father’s guns (that he didn’t know they had) and empty beer cans. The two of them believed that it didn’t matter what they did in their life because it would be uprooted again. They had no roots, no real friends, only a picture of what could be if they had just stayed.

However, this didn’t mean that they were bad kids, merely the fact that they were way too advanced for any public school setting as they always had to teach themselves. The two of them were bright kids, their parents teaching them to think for themselves and to anticipate different outcomes of a situation. They grew up with respect, of course, and when a teacher or any adult approached them they were immediately called ‘ma’am’ and ‘sir’ with their spines straight and their eyes locked with whomever they were talking. Military brats, obviously, knew how to take responsibilities for their shitty actions because they were totally aware.

Eventually, Simon graduated from a high school in the US when his father was stationed in Virginia. Already enlisted for boot camp, he shipped off the next month for the Marine Corps boot camp and the rest was history. Soon he had become a Scout Sniper and deployed to various places around the world – Afghanistan, Korea, Japan, and other places which are classified. Simon excelled at what he did and soon after his second tour as a Scout Sniper (which was his third tour altogether), the boy was asked to join the Force Recon team. Covert missions were given to him, mainly to serve as backup for others with his sniper ability. Despite the fact that their team had a good record of completed missions, they had lost their fair share of teammates and it was then, after finishing his fourth tour that he had decided to return to the civilian life.

Adjusting to the life of the civilian back on US soil was something that was vastly different for him. At the age of twenty-eight, he had killed and lost more people than he could remember during the ten years that he served with the Marines. It was not just that, however, what made adjusting back to civilian life so hard was the fact that people were going about their lives for themselves. Simon had spent years of his life working as a team, there were no lies between them and if there was tension that tension had to be thrown out as soon as they hit the battlefield. People had no respect for each other and looked out just for themselves. They lied just to get by in their lives, lying about what’s on their resume or simply where they had graduated from.

It was the reason why he had went back into serving something – he had become recruiter for the Marines. It was through there that he could talk about what he did, what kind of life he led, and how being in the military (with whatever branch) could really help out. Mostly he was assigned work with schools from poverty-stricken areas or those with discipline issues. Still, he finds solace with helping kids and young adults find their way to the military for some kind of purpose. Simon was the best at their branch, he was able to connect with kids that other people couldn’t seem to do.

That was, at least, until a few weeks ago when Simon had suddenly been taking random days off or asking other people to cover for him. Something strange happened to him, he was suddenly waking up floating in the air or finding himself moving, almost sliding, with the breeze from the trees. After his two weeks of freaking out and having a friend run tests on him, he had finally decided that he was going to keep things quiet on his end. Two weeks after his first random levitation in bed, he went back into his work. Although, people are starting to gossip about the gust of wind that appears from nowhere when Simon is upset. This is what drove him to start learning how his powers work – which he does, late at night on the roof of his apartment complex where no one could see.

HEADCANONS:

Simon sees a therapist twice a week to talk about his PTSD – whereas he has not had any violent outbursts as he sometimes sees from other veterans, he does have nightmares where he wakes up forgetting where he is. He would have never thought about doing this, but it was recommended to him from another Force Recon veteran.

Simon is ambidextrous because his parents believed that a child should be able to write with both their right and left hands. Therefore, he (and his sister) are able to do all tasks equally with both hands. However, Simon does favor his right hand for more meaningful (to him) things such as shooting and signing his name.

Simon still remains very close to his sister Amy and they constantly wrote each other when he was deployed. She is a reservist for the Navy but has never been deployed and finished her degree in biochemical engineering. Amy is Simon’s best friend and he will talk about her when given the chance.

He still keeps up with some of the kids that he had talked to about going in the military, even if they didn’t. Simon simply wants to make sure that they end up doing something with their lives so they’re just not joining a gang or becoming a deadbeat on the streets.

Upon meeting him, some people think he is standoffish and doesn’t desire to get to know anyone. However, he just does not know how to fully converse with a civilian that has nothing to do with his job or the people around him. He tries to remedy this by telling jokes, which aren’t him and he totally hates because it makes him seem even more awkward.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: N/A at the moment!

#pmaccepted #accepted #accepted audition

[snowsheba]

So I was reading the dialogue for the MEKA pilots for like... the twelfth time because they are such perfectly written characters in every way! You make the sympathetic yet hilarious, despite being literal child soldiers. What made you want to make MIM, Takes22Tango, AppleC1der, and all the others? I have never enjoyed OCs in fanfics, yet these guys had me sold in 2 minutes and now they are my favorite characters on anything ever. How and why didja do it?

ahhh @raven6229 thank you!!

the ‘why’ part is easy - i needed some way to connect hana back to korean and, more importantly, to MEKA. she needed a motive to actually want to return beyond saving her country, and it seems unrealistic to me that she wouldn’t have made friends while serving. plus, the chapter in which shitpost squad is introduced is also tied to recovering, responsibility, and staying strong even when all you want to do is run and hide - and with that in mind, it’s the perfect opportunity to introduce MIM, Tango, and Apple, along with their role in Hana’s life.

the ‘how’ part is a bit harder, and it goes back to fic writing in general. more under the cut!

i’ll be honest with you: MIM, take22tango, and AppleCIder were formed as characters in about five minutes.

seriously! i’m not kidding. i had just finished writing the first section of the chapter in which they first appeared (ch63) when i realized that this would be an excellent opportunity to have hana interact with MEKA, so i changed the ending a bit to reflect that. and then, of course, i further realized that hana needed a squad in the first place to make this work (they had been previously been referenced in the story, but only vague mentions - no names, genders, or anything), so i sat back for a bit and gave it some thought and then i just started writing and went with wherever the characters took me, letting my betas have at them as i went.

i make it sound easy. it’s not. not at first, at least.

some background: i started out writing serious fic as a homestuck. homestuck is based very strongly on the chatlogs like what you see in TDLH (i can never escape the homestuck fandom, not really), and, as such, a lot of my older homestuck fic is based around chatlogs. because of this, i have a very good grasp on how to instill personality and flair using just ‘dialogue’ alone, so take my word for it, this shit takes practice. also i have been writing for many, many years, and i’ve been writing fic (which is, by literary definition, its own genre) for all of that time.

but yeah, anyway. all i can say about character creation is that you really shouldn’t follow my example - i just take a basic form of a character, decide on some core traits, and write them into situations where their responses and reactions display their personalities. in this case, it was a bit different because i needed characters who would suit a very specific purpose, which was to act as different and effective foils to hana herself - but the idea is the same.

first, like i said earlier, i decided on some core character traits. MIM was the easiest - once i’d picked out his name (mim = meme in korean), it wasn’t hard to decide he’d have a more laid-back personality, a bit more hyper and bent on humor and self-deprecation than anything else. this was the guy who would lighten the situation with a shitty joke, but be completely serious and direct in a firefight.

takes22tango came next - i actually stole the username from another fic i’d read (from the Check, Please! fandom) because i loved it so much - and i knew that they would be more serious, but also the one who did their best to keep things civil and hold everything together. but that didn’t mean they didn’t like to have fun! their username is silly and charming, just like them, even if they know how to get down to business as necessary.

AppleCIder came last, and her name arose from the fact that i was drinking apple cider at the time. i had a general idea from the get-go that she’d be more no-nonsense and down-to-earth in comparison to her teammates; making her the more tech-savvy one was a decision that came about midway through writing the chatlog, because one of them needed to do it and i thought she’d fit the bill best.

as for their genders - i figured i’d do some representation, so yeah, Tango is nonbinary, MIM is trans, and Apple is cis female. this wasn’t chosen until the chatlog had been written in its entirety, when i’d gotten a feel for the characters a bit more. (and yeah, i went into the chatlog with very little idea of what shitpost squad would be like - and left with a very strong impression of who they are.)

(digression: you’ll note that i never actually bring up that MIM is trans anywhere in the fic, which was on purpose: him being trans isn’t something that i want readers to focus on. and no, it’s not because i think it’s bad, but because it doesn’t at all affect his actions and words and his worth and awesomeness is based on his personality, not his gender or sex.)

second, once you decide on these traits, you need to figure out how you’re going to introduce them. this is a weird case for TDLH, because you first meet shitpost squad through their dialogue alone - no description of appearance whatsoever, and no expressions or actions to help the reader decide what each squad member is like. so how to start? i had to jump through some hoops, but i eventually decided to give hana the opening line and wrote responses to that, and then the other lines of dialogue that followed, with those core traits in mind for each person.

third, you find the little things to flesh out their personality even more. you’ll also note that MIM, Tango, and Apple all have their own style of punctuation and typing. this is another thing i took from homestuck, largely because it does a fantastic job at showing off personality - MIM is rushed and speedy and doesn’t care about ending punctuation or capitalization, though he still pauses for punctuation in contractions; Tango has proper everything because they care about it, just as they care about everything; and Apple doesn’t give a shit about capitalization but she sure as hell is going to have her punctuation, lending her sentences a casualness that ends with a punch (the period). plus, MIM abuses hangul emojis (that was one of my beta’s ideas - thanks, @roguevector!), while Tango uses them occasionally and Apple mostly just spams ㅋㅋㅋ whenever she finds something funny. it’s subtle, but it has tremendous impact - because the little things add up, as stupid as that sounds.

(and another thing - the chatroom is named ‘meme city’, which is just yet another indicator of what shitpost squad is like. the tiniest things like that go a long way.)

fourth, and i cannot recommend this enough, bounce ideas and drafts of your characters off of people. rogue and @costumebleh were integral for these characters to be the way they are, adding their own ideas and suggestions for me while i wrote the chatlogs, and their advice was (and still is) invaluable to me. friends and betas will help you avoid cliches, keep things clean, and further develop personalities - plus it’s loads of fun when you don’t have to work entirely alone.

… well, that’s the ‘how’, as best as i can discern. i hoped this helped clarify things a little bit, and if you have any other questions, please do ask

#raven6229 #overwatch #tdlh #thanks dad love hana #tdlh MEKA #i honestly did not think i would love shitpost squad as much as i did going out #and i thought i'd drop them way sooner #but they've stuck around #and it's so heartening to see other people love them just as much if not more as i do #thank you for this - it was such a nice ask to read and answer <3 #writing tips #i hoped i helped a bit but tbh i'd need days to write a tutorial on this kind of crap #a lot of things i do intuitively now are not so obvious to newer writers #... anyway #thank you!! #OH I ALMOST FORGOT #and it's been absolutely flooring to see people draw these characters so beautifully #arcaneadagio #tacticianjaru #they did such amazing jobs and it's still incredible and unbelievable to me that they drew them at all