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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

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hi, idk if you write this kind of thing but would you mind writing something with either carmy berzatto or frank castle and a recovering addict! gf?

she relapses and he's angry but he loves her so he's gentle. he doesn't know what to do.

i’m not doing so well atm and i’m really struggling to stay clean, your writing and just fics in general really help take me out of my own head.

There's Always Tomorrow.

Frank knows you better than you know yourself. It's a blessing and a curse.

Author's Note - hi sweet anon. i'm sorry to hear you're not doing so well at the moment. i lost a good friend of mine to addiction, and i know how hard it can be. just know that you're never alone - there's always someone you can talk to. you're doing amazing, and I'm wishing you all the best. you've got this.

i got this request and knew i had to write it, as it's something very close to my heart. i've tried to handle it as sensitively as possible, without going into too much explicit detail. i've included some resources at the bottom of this post such as websites and hotlines if you feel like you need some support. so much love to anyone who's struggling. i see you, and i admire you. you're always stronger than you think x

Pairing - Frank Castle x Recovering Addict Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - addiction. mentions of relapse. talk of sobriety and being clean. cursing. please do not read if this will be triggering to you in any way.

Word Count - 1.7k

Masterlist. Requests.

Frank knows something is wrong the minute he walks through the door.

Usually, he yells honey, I'm home! and is greeted by you jumping into his arms, covering his face in kisses.

Today, you're nowhere to be found.

He's storming through your house, yelling your name at the top of his lungs. A thousand scenarios are running through his head, all of them horrifically tragic. He's terrified.

He gets to the closed bathroom door and yells your name again.

"Sweetheart, you in there?"

You don't reply, but he hears you sniffle.

"Shit, baby, are you cryin'? Open the door. Whatever it is, I'll fix it, okay?"

"You can't," you sob. "Not this time."

Frank has never heard you this upset, and he's starting to panic.

"Open the door, honey. Please. Just open the door and we'll work somethin' out."

"You don't want me to," you cry. "You're going to hate me."

"Hate you? I could never hate you. I love you, you know that. Open the door. Please."

You sniffle again, but make no attempt to move.

"Alright. I'm about to break it down. Move back, so I can kick it in."

"Don't you dare," you threaten. "This door was expensive."

"Then open it."

You're not sure if it's his words, or the way he sounds exhausted, but you decide to give him some respite. You stand up and turn the lock, before slumping back down into your spot on the floor.

Frank takes a good look at you, and his heart shatters.

Your cheeks are tracked with mascara stained tears. You're wearing nothing but a tank top and some underwear. Your hair looks like you've been running your fingers through it repeatedly. Your lips are bitten and raw. You look tired.

"Baby," he whispers. "What happened? Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lie.

"You're not fine. You're clearly not fuckin' fine. We don't lie to each other, do we?"

When you don't answer, he grabs your chin to look at him where he's standing.

"Do we?"

"No," you mutter, shaking your head. "We don't lie to each other."

"That's right," he says, moving to kneel in front of you. "Now please, honey. What happened?"

Silence. More sniffles.

"If I tell you, you're going to hate me. You're going to leave me and you're going to hate me."

"I don't think there's anythin' in the world that could make me hate you," he reassures.

Frank looks at you intently, proving you have his full attention. He cups your cheek gently, and waits for you to tell him the truth. Eventually, you speak.

"I relapsed," you whisper.

Frank's whole body goes rigid, and he freezes. He's still looking at you, but it's different now.

"Frank," you say gently. "Did you hear me?"

"I heard you."

Your blood runs cold. He sounds... distant. Detached. He sounds angry.

"Please don't hate me. I told you you'd hate me. God, I knew this would happen."

There are fresh, warm tears streaming down your face, dripping onto your shirt. Frank still remains stoic, removing his hand from your cheek.

"I don't hate you," he says eventually. "But I need you to give me a minute."

With that, he rises to his feet and leaves. You're left on the bathroom floor, sobbing and alone.

⋆ 　　 . ✵　 ⋆ 　　 . ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 . ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 . ✵

Frank sits on the edge of your bed, trying his best to take deep breaths.

Your addiction isn't a secret. You've talked about it time and time again, telling Frank all of the details that you swore to yourself you'd never tell anyone. You met him, and felt instantly safe. He's the perfect confidant - he listens, he understands. He's compassionate, he's gentle, he's empathetic. You've opened up again and again, and Frank has never judged you once. It's one of the reasons you fell so hard for him.

You've been clean since you met him. A naive part of him hoped that he'd never have to see you otherwise. He knows that sobriety is a journey, he knows that it isn't linear. But he hasn't been through it. There's only so much he really understands. He tries, though. God, he tries.

He's sitting in your shared bedroom, wondering why he left you in the bathroom by yourself. Is it because he can't bear to see you upset? Is it because he can't handle it like he thought he could?

He realises, suddenly, that it's because he simply doesn't know what to do. He's never been in this situation before, and he doesn't know which course of action to take. Does he sit and cry with you? Does he yell at you to never do it again? Does he tell you he still loves you, no matter what? He decides, unsure, to try a mix of all three.

Frank strides back into the bathroom and sees you still in the spot he left you. You're still crying, and it lodges a lump in his throat. He fights back his own tears, and sits down next to you, pulling you into his arms.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. We're okay. It's all okay."

"It's not okay, Frank," you sob. "I'm so mad."

"At me? I'm sorry, honey. I shouldn't have stormed out like that. I just panicked and -"

"No, no. At myself."

Frank soothingly strokes your hair, rocking you gently. You relax into his hold, tears subsiding slightly.

"I've worked so hard on being clean. It's a choice, every single day. Why did I choose wrong today? I've ruined everything. I've fucked up all of my hard work, all of my progress."

"You know," he begins. "There's no end goal here. It's a constant journey. And on any journey, there's gonna be ups and downs."

You try to protest, but he cuts you off.

"One bad day doesn't determine the rest of the week. Or the rest of the month. Or the year. Okay?"

You nod your head, and he kisses your temple.

"There's always tomorrow, baby. There's always tomorrow. We can start again. Today doesn't undo everything. It just changes your course a little."

"Frank Castle. A poet. Who knew?" you tease. He laughs, and the vibrations buzz through you both.

"Only for you, honey."

You both sit on the floor for what feels like hours, content to just hold each other. Frank is wondering what caused the events of the day, what made you feel like you had no other option, where you even got a hold of everything. But he doesn't ask. He knows you'll talk about it tomorrow. Instead, he wraps his arms around you tighter, and tries to match his racing heart to the beat of yours.

"Promise me that if you feel like this again, you'll tell me. I don't care where I am, or what I'm doin'. We're in this together."

"I promise," you whisper.

"There's always tomorrow, honey," he murmurs into your hair.

"There's always tomorrow," you echo.

He's right. There's always tomorrow.

Al-Anon / Ala-Teen Hotline - 800-356-9996

SAMHSA Hotline - 1-800-662-4357

DrugFree Hotline - 855-378-4373

Alcoholics Anonymous (UK) - +44-800-9177-650

DAN 24/7 (England&Wales) - +44-808-8082-234

Narcotics Anonymous (UK) - +44-300-999-1212

MIND Website (lots of useful UK resources here)

SAMHSA Website (USA)

these are just a select few. there are hundreds, if not thousands, of websites, hotlines and places to turn for support if you're struggling. asking for help might be the hardest thing you'll ever do. but it's so worth it. promise x

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stealth-liberal · 8 months

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So, it's that time again, the anniversary of 9/11. Two years ago, on the 20th anniversary, I wrote an essay about the Twin Tower jumpers and how we as a society have refused to look their fear and pain in the face and hold it.

Now, it's been 22 years since that day and my thoughts go elsewhere. Now I am thinking about legacy and remembrance. Honoring the dead. How do we fully honor the 3,000 people who were killed that day? Because I have some serious issues with how that has played out over the last 22 years.

I was in my 20's when 9/11 happened, and I was in the Marine Corps, so, as you can imagine, it changed my life, and not a single one of those changes was positive. Right now though, it's not what I want to talk about.

We say never forget, always remember, but how are we doing that. By dooming ourselves to what was 20 years of unending war? That doesn't sound like a good memorial.

I never had an issue with the war in Afghanistan. We were attacked Pearl Harbor style, and that was always going to end the way it did. But the war in Iraq? It made me an angry liberal. I had never been conservative, and I joined the Marine Corps to pay for college, we had been at peace for So Many Years that I guess I didn't really think that could change. The war in Iraq was criminal, though. Dubya and his cronies whipped our pain and our grief into a storm and used it to help him LIE to Congress (both sections) so he could get his war. Afghanistan had no natural resources besides poppies for opium that would benefit the war profiteers. They were strategically placed, but that was it. Iraq? Iraq had oil and Haliburton, Chaney, Dubya, Condoleezza Rice, and the rest made So Much money. Billions were made, and billions were "misplaced." Congress was given false intell reports so they would vote for the Iraq War. The fact that no one went to jail for that scarred me. They lined their pockets, and my friends came home in body bags because they SOMEHOW didn't have the money for proper body armor. I will never forgive them for that.

So... It's not a very good way to remember the 3,000 who died on 9/11. Perhaps the worst memorial of all time. Dubya shackled us to pain and grief, and no one was allowed to recover. Least of all the families who lost people. They were paraded for the cameras to be used, and looking back on it, it was sickening. How could they do that to families and the survivors? Why?

I mean, intellectually, I know why. Emotionally, I will never understand it. The survivors and the families deserved to recover. We, as a nation who witnessed the horror, deserved to recover. But recovery meant no profit. Recovery meant no Iraq War. Recovery meant Halliburton might not make quite as much money. So we all stayed traumatized, unable to move forward.

And here it is, 22 years later. How should we honor the 9/11 dead and the survivors? Well, I have a few ideas.

1. 3,000 people died that day, but it could have been less. Why? Both the Twin Towers and the Pentagon had structural and safety issues that made something catastrophic even worse. The Twin Towers did not have enough emergency staircases for it's size. All skyscrapers were supposed to have 4 staircases in case they ever needed to be evacuated. Both Towers only had 2, and the why of that is rage inducing.

You see, 4 staircases meant less floor space, which meant less desk space, which meant less ability to charge businesses higher rents. So money changed hands when the towers were built, and the number went down to 2 emergency staircases. This was a decision that was heavily criticized at the time, and many in the trades predicted disaster.

When the 1993 bombing of the Twin Towers happened, the towers stayed standing, and the 2 missing staircases weren't a problem. Everyone thought all was good. To be fair, NO ONE ever thought a terrorist group would fly a jumbo passenger jet into each tower. No skyscraper was built with that eventuality in mind. They are now, though.

When the planes hit the towers, each tower lost access to elevators and 1 staircase each. Now, both towers had to be fully evacuated with just that one staircase. It wasn't enough, and survivors have all spoken about how everyone was jammed into the stairwells going down those stairs one at a time at a snail's pace. It's a miracle as many people actually survived as they did.

The South Tower was hit more on the side, so some people above the impact zone were able to get out. The North Tower was not so lucky. It was hit head on, everyone above the impact zone was doomed, and they knew it. It's why so many of them chose to jump once faced with what was no real choice to begin with, burn, or jump to their deaths.

Had there been enough staircases, had there been 4 instead of 2, many more people would have survived. So I think a suitable way to never forget the people who died in The Twin Towers is to enact legislation so that never again can a skyscraper be built without proper emergency egress/staircases in case of an evacuation. Any skyscrapers without enough staircases are brought up to code so that if the worst happens, as many people can be saved as possible. That seems a fitting memorial.

The Pentagon was built like a fish trap, the idea was if an enemy somehow got in, they would never get out. No one ever factored in the notion of a jet being flown into the building, most of the inner ring collapsing and massive explosion damage and fire racing through everywhere. There are many stories of people pounding on the glass and not being able to get out.

Thankfully for the people at the Pentagon, they were not in a skyscraper, and first responders were able to find ways to get to them. But they couldn't and didn't get to everyone. So I think a fitting memorial to the Pentagon dead that day would be to make sure no building is so secure that you can't get out, can't truly evacuate, if the catastrophic happens. When a building is on fire, everyone deserves the best possible chance to get out and get home alive.

2. The first responders of 9/11 were the heroes of that day. I think we can all agree that the very definition of heroic is running back into a collapsing and/or burning building determined to save just one more life. So many first responders died that day doing the best they could to save lives. The ones who survived were harrowed to their bones.

The people who worked the wreckage of both sites, who collected what was left of human remains. Who bit by bit picked up the wreckage and tried to heal two cities with the labor of their hands. These people were also heroes, and anyone who says differently is just wrong.

They were told it was safe, and they were told we would take care of them. However, it wasn't safe. Both of these groups of people have had massive health complications ever since from the toxins they were immersed in for days, weeks, months, and even years. The dust alone caused so much lung damage.

Then, to add insult to injury, a Republican congress tried to take away their health benefits, to leave them twisting in the wind. These ghouls left the ACTUAL heroes of that terrible time in chronic illness, terrible pain, and in many cases tried to let them die. Why? Because they were too cheap to spend a dime on these people. John Stewart basically had to retire from The Daily Show to shame Congress into taking care of these people.

On the 17th anniversary he gave a blistering speech to them and I paraphrase here: "17 years ago, they acted heroically and did their jobs. They did their jobs! NOW DO YOURS!"

You want to know the very best way to remember the first responders who died in 9/11? Take care of their brothers and sisters who survived, their brothers and sisters who spent years working The Piles. None of these people should EVER pay so much as a dime for their health care ever again. For the rest of their lives. Period.

This is how we should memorialize them, this is how we never forget. Not chaining us to a never ending cycle of pain, despair, and anger. Not lying to us to get a second war that no one needed. Not war profiteering and then calling it patriotism. Not terrorizing our Muslim citizens. Not taking away our rights, not trading our civil rights for the illusion of safety.

This is how we make peace with the horror of what happened. This is how we move forward and let the memory of the dead be a blessing.

#sl speaks #9/11 #the twin towers #the pentagon #september 11th

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melishade · 30 days

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prompt # 23

This ask game

Marco getting his wounds checked out after Part 5: Airachnid Arc in the War Timeline. Also this is the written out scene: #31

Marco still felt pain in his head, even days after he received medical treatment after the debacle with Airachnid. It was the first time any of them had encountered a metal titan that was hostile and deadly, but Jack's initial panic had indicated that more like her were here on their world, and they would stop at nothing to destroy the Autobots, and in turn, them.

They knew they had to deal with Airachnid, no matter how reluctant Marco's group was after Jack's description, but they couldn't let Airachnid return to the Decepticons with whatever she had discovered. They were successful in stopping her, but Airachnid had ripped out Marco's right eye for the fun of it. The thought still gave him vivid nightmares, and there were still phantom pains, but he was still alive, and that was something that he should be grateful for. Not to mention, Airachnid was successfully contained due to Jean and Mikasa's efforts.

Marco blinked a little bit when a strange light was flashed in his left eye. His vision cleared when he saw the Autobot medic's human form examine his vision before looking at the stitches that covered his right eye socket.

"I know my knowledge on human anatomy is still developing," Ratchet began as he turned off the flashlight, "But your wounds seem to be healing naturally. No signs of infection or inflammation. A few more days and the stitches should be removed. You'll no doubt need to wear something to cover your right side now."

"Thank you, sir." Marco nodded. Marco mumbled a little when Jack began to wrap clean bandages around his head to cover up his wound.

"If that is all, I'll be heading back to Optimus," Ratchet informed the two of them, "Airachnid has become a rather...interesting study for Hanji."

"Do what you gotta do." Jack gave a 'thumbs up' before Ratchet's holoform disappeared.

"You don't have to stay here and tend to my wounds," Marco insisted.

"Look, you were willing to put your life on the line like that. It's the least I can do," Jack reassured.

"Thanks for helping me heal up...and for visiting," Marco said, "How's Mikasa and Sasha?"

"They didn't get any injuries," Jack explained.

"And...Jean?" Marco pressed.

Before Jack could answer, the door swung open and Jean bolted into the room, looking out of breath and concerned.

"You didn't tell me he was awake!" Jean shouted at Jack.

"Look there's been a lot going on, and I can't give you clearance like that," Jack proclaimed, "You're from a different branch in the military."

"Jean," Marco began, but his friend walked over to him rather quickly and hugged him tight.

"Thank god, you're okay," Jean sighed with relief.

"I'm glad to see you too." Marco couldn't help but be surprised. Jean was acting so kind to him. Especially since majority of their previous interactions have been arguments. He supposed maybe the near-death experience was a blessing in disguise.

Jean let go of Marco before turning to Jack. "What happened to that spider bitch?"

"Airachnid's been captured," Jack answered, "She's not going anywhere. The problem is now that other Decepticons might come looking for her. We know the Decepticons came here to this world with us, but...what they're planning, we don't know."

"How do we counterattack?" Marco asked.

"Marco, you should be thinking about recovering!" Jean exclaimed.

"Jean, this is bigger than us!" Marco reminded.

"We don't know yet," Jack answered, "The Decepticons have always had an advantage over the Autobots, but now the Autobots have even less resources. And based on Airachnid's talks, the Decepticons have to be aware of how the power of the titans works."

Jack rubbed his eyes. "There's just...a lot to consider."

Marco looked down at his hands with his remaining eye. "...then...I guess I'm going to have to learn how to see with only one eye."

"You're seriously thinking about joining the fight?!" Jean demanded.

"I don't have a choice," Marco insisted, "If I sit by and do nothing, these Decepticons might come for us anyway. I have to play my part as a member of the Survey Corps."

"But you don't have to be!" Jean reminded, "You ranked in the top ten and you've been injured in the line of duty! You could transfer to the Military Police or just live a quiet life!"

"Damn it, Jean! Why are you acting like this when I told you that I'm staying to fight?!" Marco demanded.

"Because I almost lost you!" Jean yelled at him, "I almost lost you because I was a coward! I didn't react fast enough in that cave and now you're reduced to this! You say that I can be relied upon but look at you! I caused that! You're my best friend and I hurt you!"

Jean grabbed Marco's shirt. "Just stay out of the fight! I'm begging you! I don't want you to die at the hands of monsters like those!"

Marco was almost touched at that, and he couldn't help but think to transfer or run away, but...he couldn't. He wouldn't be able to live a life he could be proud of if he ran and served the king. Marco almost laughed. What king? The king turned out to be a sham that was killed by Airachnid. His dreams of innocence and honor were gone. Now he needed to survive and live so that no one ends up like him.

"...I can't walk away," Marco relented, "No matter how scared I am, I can't walk away."

"...There's no shame in doing that," Jean insisted.

"...I still can't," Marco declared.

Jean's mouth formed a thin line and his face contorted into a grimace. "Then I guess I have no choice either."

"What?" Marco blinked in confusion.

"I...I have to join the Survey Corps!" Jean declared.

"...wow." Jack couldn't help but utter.

(So 28 has been asked, but everything else is free game.)

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rachetmath · 1 year

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Aura

I’m sorry but I feel this needs to be said. Aura is by far the most under-used source in RWBY beside dust. Look I get it aura is used to make barriers and fuel semblances but that's it. I mean the semblances are sometimes horrible at best. Especially when they’re passive. Oh my, the worst semblance to me is sadly Qrow’s because anything could happen. You could be enjoying your day and something bad happens because you're there. But that’s minor.

Now some semblances are good. We got semblances that can stop time. We got some that can erase memories. We even got some that can create clones and summon creatures. Too bad summoning things is only in the Schnee department but still. However some of them can be both imitated and surpassed by other characters. For example, Adam, Yang and Tock. Adam creates a wave projectile to slice his enemies. Yang can build and store energy every time she takes damage from enemies and dish it back ten fold. Tock can literally take no damage until her timer goes off. Guess who can copy these abilities? Five characters; Ren, Blake, Fox, Qrow and yes, even Jaune can do it.

Four of these characters have managed to replicate Adam and Yang’s semblances. Blake and Qrow manage to create slashes in the air to launch at their opponents before. Though theirs are not strong as Adam’s they still performed the same function. Fox and Ren can do the same like Yang. I mean, in volume one and two, Ren and Fox made Grimm’s bodies explode. And the sad part about it is Jaune can do all this because of his aura reserves and his semblances. And this is why aura control is needed.

We need characters who are better skilled in aura. I understand semblances are supposed to be unique and tied more to the user but if you were a hunter and you never unlocked your semblance or if you did but it’s not as helpful as you hope, what would be your best source to fight with? Your aura, because so far semblances have been more of let down due to being similar to others. Examples are Harriet and Neon, both being fast characters. Or where it's just in their names. Like Vine with extended limbs; Elm being rooted to the ground; or Clover having good luck. But if you understand the basics and learn more ways to use your aura you can basically do anything. The prime demonstration is Hazel. Nora said herself, Hazel can recharge faster than most people. This means no matter how much damage they dish out Hazel will recover and still keep going.

(Bro I need to say this. Man I’m sorry but in my opinion Hazel is the strongest male character in the RWBY series. Bro, think about it, James was scared of Hazel more than he was of Cinder. And when we saw him fight Salem,… oh my god, these kids were lucky he didn’t really want to fight them because if he did they would all be dead. Like Hazel is the best example of both aura and dust users. He should have stayed alive. Maybe then the kids can finally have a functioning adult in their lives. Hazel solos.)

Okay, after explaining all this, how else can aura be used? Well other than being barriers, slash waving projectiles and a healing factor, it can also be used like haki, chakra or for this show like it was before Salem screwed the world over, magic. But only maidens have magic right? Well let me tell you why I disagree with that statement. But first let's talk about dust.

Dust is the second most under-used source in RWBY. The reason I say secondary is because at least it’s visible in the world. Not only that it is used in weapons, machines, and as ammunition. It is really a natural resource but no one ever uses it in its rawest form. No one except Hazel and maybe Weiss. And what makes it better is they are Remnants of magical elements. Dust in rawest form is more powerful than a gun. And if used properly you can rival maidens.

Maidens are supposed to be special due to them being able to control the elements without the need of dust. However, their power might as well be that of a semblance considering it requires aura to even use. I mean think about it Cinder and Raven. They have used the maiden powers which not only exhausted them as well decreased their aura to the point they break. Not only that they were able to be defeated or in Cinder’s case almost die multiple times. And to prove my case further, Salem is a magic user yet Hazel still killed her multiple times. Hell, Penny was able to beat Cinder even without maiden powers. Basically, the sad truth is the maidens are just keys. If Cinder crossed the wrong person she would be dead. Never mind that if Hazel, Watts and Tyrian wanted to, they actually would have killed her themselves. Especially if she keeps messing up they're plans.

So how does dust increase the use of aura? Well dust is part of the world. And so is the aura. So wouldn’t having more of a connection with the world increase aura and dust efficiency. I mean Vine said aura can be extended. So using the environment itself is good. Just like chakra, if you extend the aura enough to spread across an area enough while using gravity dust you can increase the pressure to keep opponents down. With plant dust trapping your enemies to a certain extent. Heck if you learn to control your aura and merge it with the element you can throw projectiles, create weapons, increase your speed and/or damage output. Effectively uses your whole body as a weapon.

Aura can even be used even without the need of dust. Like with haki it can harden your body against attacks. Extended to where you can locate upcoming enemies. Or when released all at once ,can be used to knock out enemies without engaging in combat.

Look, I am sorry. Please, forgive me but after thinking about this it made me ask this question, “What is a hunter?” Like really what is a hunter because so far this show has disappointed me on the term. We have seen hunters die whether be by non-hunter groups or Grimm who are arguably not that much of a threat. If anything, ordinary people can fight and kill them. Even semblances are starting to become nothing but excuses to why characters act the way they do, like with James who was determined to blow up Mantle because of his ability. Or having basic abilities that other characters should possess like Tyrian’s aura breaking ability. It’s sad really, aura is supposed to be this source of power but it's not as weaponized as I hoped it would be. But that’s my opinion.

#rwby #lie ren #rwby fox #adam taurus #yang xiao long #qrow branwen #harriet bree #clover ebi #rwby vine #Tyrian Callows #hazel rainart #rwby salem #Jaune Arc #weiss schnee #cinder fall #raven branwen #rwby maidens #rwby aura

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theangryman · 2 months

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I can’t say that every “dom” will abuse you

But I can say that if one does, you can do nothing about it.

the police do not read Reddit posts about “consent” in BDSM - you let the man tie you up = you agreed to everything that happens.

domestic violence resources might help you if you’re a gender conforming woman, but that is the only group they exist to serve (the area I live in is a national leader in DV, but has like 2 crisis shelters LOL)

most therapists who aren’t anti-LGBT where I live are extremely pro kink. My abuser and I were in couples counseling - the couples counselor thought his desire to beat girls ten years younger than him was grand and I should be on board! The therapist I saw when trying to recover told me I’d always want a relationship where I was a “submissive.”

if you go online for help, the bdsm “community” will ostracize you. You can’t even post to SA support groups if you say things negative of kink, because some people use it to cope and they might be upset if someone who was assaulted in bondage doesn’t like bondage.

You can’t talk about abuse in BDSM, because kinksters *cannot* engage with critique of BDSM. It takes the status of a religion or identity, where criticizing it puts you in the “bad people” category - this is why every post “defending” kink is only able to deal with religious/puritanical criticisms.

so I can’t say that every “dom” will torture and rape you. What I can say is that if they do decide to, *no one* will help you. The only acceptable way to deal with an assault in BDSM is to cope with more BDSM or to just never talk about it.

I can’t say that every “community” is full of bad people - but every member of the “kink community” I’ve spoken to online has accused me of lying or tried to diagnose me with mental disorders online. Maybe I’ll get a nice explanation of how bdsm differs from abuse - because the most important thing is that what happened to me CAN’T be BDSM.

#antikink #kink critical #kink discourse #kink shaming #cw rap3 #kink discussion

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the-queen-and-the-king · 2 months

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Revelations

Summary: Post S04E03 (Minimal loss). Aaron is still shocked by what's happened in Cyrus ranch and, especially, to what happened to Emily. He doesn't get why he had such a reaction. But when he discovers Emily at his door, he may find some answers...

Characters: Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss

Contents: basically, smut without plot. :D (Okay, I confess there is a bit of angst too.) NSFW/MINORS DNI

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Aaron felt like he'd been put under a steamroller. Worn out, rinsed, drained, he was beyond exhaustion. This mission had required him to draw on the very depths of his resources to keep himself in control. Or almost. He knew he'd now lost control once or twice, but hoped no one had seen anything. All the members of his team had been under a great deal of stress and, while a part of him was proud of the way they had reacted, he prayed above all that they hadn't noticed how panicked he had been. The whole thing had gone from bad to worse at an alarming rate, before abruptly picking up again, until this mixed denouement. His subordinates had escaped, but the price was not insignificant. How would they cope with this Pyrrhic victory? How would they recover from their wounds? First physical, then moral. What was he supposed to do to help them? Did he even have the means to do so?

With a glass of whisky in hand, sitting in one of the two armchairs in the living room, he tried to gather his thoughts and not cogitate on what had troubled him most during this investigation. Why had he behaved this way? It didn’t make any sense. He had been trained to resist pressure and blackmail and had passed the tests with flying colors. And yet, he had had all the trouble in the world to stem the flow of his emotions and restrain himself from going off to play the lone hero. An initiative that would probably have led to his death, and possibly that of his undercover agents. A bolt of lightning shot through his chest. But he didn't know if it was due to the furtive vision of the corpse of one of his profilers or to the sound of the doorbell that had just burst into the apartment. Still in shock, he placed what he had in his hand on the coffee table and stood up, ignoring the trembling in his legs. He opened the door without even looking through the eyecup.

“Prentiss?”

The young woman was indeed standing in front of him, in the same outfit she'd worn on the jet an hour earlier, and she was smiling at him despite the bruises and abrasions that dotted her face.

“Evening, Hotch.”

“What… What are you doing here? You… you should be home. Or… or… or to hospital, for x-rays, treatment and…”

“I’m fine, Hotch. Breath.”

Reflexively, he took a breath, but failed to push it all the way out. The swollen face made him face up to his responsibilities, and a vise tightened around his throat.

“Aren't you going to invite me in?”

“Huh?... Uh… yes,” he stammered, before stepping aside to give her the right of way.

She walked past him, close enough for his sense of smell to pick up the scent of her perfume. His heart skipped a beat. Then his gaze fell on his employee's back before sliding imperceptibly – but undeniably – to her buttocks, molded to perfection in those jeans he was seeing for the first time. She turned to speak to him, and he mentally shook himself to turn around and close the door.

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything?” she asked, surely realizing that her irruption might have interrupted something.

“N... no, he replied, embarrassed by the situation. Wh… why are you… here?”

He didn't recognize the sound of his voice, altered by the sensations invading his body and mind. Discreetly, as he took a few steps towards the kitchen, he tried to get his breathing back to normal. He couldn't tame the jumble his thoughts had become, but he could still soften the quivering of his muscles.

“I think that we need to talk, both of us.”

He narrowly missed replying with far too much vehemence not to attract her attention.

“Wh…? What… what would you like us to talk about?”

“The mission. But first, I’d like the same thing as you.”

This time, he couldn't suppress his shudder. What did she mean by that? She stared at him with an intensity that prevented him from concentrating, and it seemed to him that a drum was playing under his skull.

“I… I beg your pardon?” he stuttered, clinging to the island.

“The whisky you poured; I'd like the same. Please.”

He sighed with relief as he nodded and, with a goofy grin, retraced his steps to the shelf where the bottles of hard liquor were lined up. Too high for Jack to reach.

“What were you thinking?” Emily frowned, puzzled.

“Nothing! He… Here,” he said, handing her her order.

He circled her at a safe distance so as not to catch another whiff of her scent and resumed his place in the armchair. He indicated the sofa to his guest, who sat down in turn. They drank a sip in silence, Aaron consciously avoiding meeting her gaze.

“You… you wanted to talk about the mission?” he began, unsettled by this sudden proximity.

After the emotional whirlwind he'd just endured over the previous few days, he realized that the last thing he needed was to be alone with her. Unless that was all he wanted...

“Derek told me you've been acting a little... strange while I've been over there.”

He immediately looked up, taken by surprise by this assertion. He absolutely had to reply so that she wouldn't interpret the ex-policeman's words in a way that might do him a disservice.

“I…- he swallowed, captivated by what he glimpsed through the indentation in her sweater – I’m sorry. I… I was afraid it would kill you or… would…”

The rest of his sentence died before it reached his lips. She had moved closer and her knee was now just a few centimeters from his. He felt panic overcome him. If she ever dared to touch him, for any reason, he'd lose his mind right away.

“Hotch, you're not responsible for what happened. It wasn't you who blasted the place. You didn't put automatic weapons in these guys' hands. And it wasn't you who pushed the button.”

As she leaned forward to make her words more convincing, he did his utmost not to lower his eyes, but met his interlocutor's in fact. She had removed her make-up in the meantime and the only coherent thought that wandered through his mind was that she was even more beautiful natural.

“But… your… face,” he murmured, dodging the word ‘body’ to avoid imagining that of the woman sitting in front of him.

“It's only temporary, she assured him, serenely. In a few days, it will no longer be there. And, once again, it's not your fault.”

She placed her palm on his leg to reinforce her words. Aaron's brain shut down immediately and, without him being able to grasp why or how, tears began to roll down his cheeks. Emily's brows furrowed in concern and she straightened, bewildered.

“Hotch…”

She placed her glass back on the table, grabbed her superior's – which he hadn't touched – and placed it next to her own, then lifted her host's chin to place a kiss on his lips. He was startled and recoiled instinctively.

“Everything is okay, Hotch. It’ll be fine.”

He wanted to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. He was just bathed in extreme confusion, divided between his good conscience ordering him to kick the profiler out and his primitive brain dreaming of her repeating the act. Another part of his anatomy shared this urge and he tried to invoke horrific memories to stop the process in progress, to no avail.

“Relax.”

Without preamble, she stepped forward and took her place on his thighs, her calves on either side of his legs. A terrible tension was felt in his pants. A powerful desire climbed inside him, along with an immeasurable sense of shame. But Emily didn't seem to mind what she had to guess, on the contrary. She smiled, delicately caught his face and kissed him for the second time. The peaty taste of whisky beaded on his tongue as he parted his lips to meet that of his employee. He had closed his eyes and, for a time he couldn't define, abandoned himself completely. The exchange went on like that, gently, meticulously, until she grabbed his wrists and led his hands under her sweater. The warmth of her skin under his fingers electrified him and his heartbeat quickened when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. He caressed her round, heavy breasts and played with her erect nipples with his thumb. She sighed, eyelids closed. His desire for her was now so strong it hurt. He winced.

Emily smiled and, languidly biting her lower lip, slowly caressed his torso through his shirt, moving down an imaginary line from the hollow of his neck to below his navel. Then she unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and slid down his zipper. He wanted to stop her before she went too far, but he was paralyzed by the unreality of what was happening. It was obvious that his desire for her was real, but he struggled to conceive that the reciprocal was true. She was there, her hands venturing where they never should have, and he was aware of her weight on him, though he couldn't believe his senses. He could hear her breath, inhale her perfume, still taste her lips on his, but he thought he was in a dream. A crazy dream that didn't let up when she took his erect cock out into the open. His heart raced at the idea that she might be heading for a fellatio that would embarrass him more than ever – because he didn't want a woman to stoop to that kind of practice against her will and because he might come far too quickly – but she opted for manual stimulation instead. He closed his eyes, exhaled a sigh and gently let himself be invested by the waves of pleasure that surged through his chest each time she completed a new back-and-forth.

Then she stopped, bringing him back into the present moment. She got to her feet and, without taking her eyes off him, unhurriedly took off her jeans. Her shoes had been removed who knew when. Her garment on her ankles, she got rid of it with ease, then grabbed the straps of her underwear before pulling it down to her toes. When he lifted his nose, Emily was close to him and her mouth captured his. He didn't rebel, returning her kiss and stretching it as long as he could. He shuddered, however, as her vulva grazed his tip. The next half-second, he was inside her, up to his guard. It was warm and wet, and the walls of her vagina hugged the shape of his penis, as if it had been planned from the start that they would sleep together. A delicious sensation, especially for a long-term bachelor like him. His body demanded that he give in right away, to enjoy an orgasm he hadn't experienced in – too – long; but he concentrated on making her cum first.

With deft swings of her pelvis, she began the hostilities, and he mustered all his strength in his own movements to prevent this improvised dance from turning into a fiasco. The rhythm quickly went crescendo, breathing became louder, gestures less delicate and the intensity of their satisfaction greater. They no longer looked at each other, their vision turned inwards, towards what pulsed in their veins and burned in their lower belly. They no longer caressed each other, their hands firmly gripping their partner's body to hold them back and accompany them in this frenetic ballet. They no longer breathed, their lungs exhaling only groans and simple words or injunctions that spoke volumes about their feelings. It was good. Very good. Too good.

Emily was closing in around him at breakneck speed and he was on the verge of a breakdown himself. She encouraged him to let go, and he gritted his teeth. She begged him to capitulate, but he held firm. She ordered him to bend; he gave up and poured himself into her at length. Ecstasy overwhelmed his body and drowned his mind, causing tremors in all his muscles. His lover let out a whimper, as much of relief as of victory, her eyes revolted by the explosion of endorphins in her guts.

Exhausted, out of breath, they remained embraced for a while, their intimacy fused; then the young woman left her position to stand up. Without a word, she collected her belongings and dressed without haste. She slipped on her shoes, but he didn't move, transfixed by her grace and stunned by what they'd just done. She leaned towards him, at last, and kissed him tenderly before pulling away.

“Emily… “ he managed to pronounce to slow her down.

“Good night, Aaron,” she said, smiling.

Then she turned her back on him, opened the door and disappeared into the corridor. Later, when he awoke sweating in his bed, his heart pounding against his ribs, he was unable to determine whether what he'd experienced was the truth or simply a very realistic fantasy to make him hear what he'd been burying deep inside for months and months.

___

What do you think? Was it a dream? Or was it the reality?

Well, I have this headcanon that if Emily had erotic dreams about her favorite boss, he had thoughts too. :D

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #smut #angst #dirty mondays

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ladyfogg · 2 years

Text

We Live for Love - Part 2

We Live for Love – Part 2

Fic Summary: Eddie is recovering in the hospital where you’re volunteering. The whole town may have shunned him but you refuse to do the same. Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Female Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Language, Season Finale Spoilers

Fic Song: We Live for Love by Pat Benatar. Full fic playlist on Spotify.

A/N: Look, this was supposed to be slow burn but apparently these nerds are super fucking in love and nothing I can do can stop them. Trust me, I’ve tried. Right now my plan is to have this be four parts. We’ll see if they make me change my mind though lol.

The next morning, you hop out of bed well before your alarm goes off. All night you were thinking of Eddie and the “almost kiss” and you can’t wait to see him again. It was like the last two years never happened. Like your body pressed pause on your crush and then fast forward the moment you two were in the same room.

You take a quick shower and for once you don’t complain that the water is cold. Another lovely side effect of the mess Hawkins is dealing with. Although, your shower was always cold because the old landlord never bothered to replace the hot water heater. In the back of your mind, you add that to the list of many things you want to take care of when time and resources allow. Once you’re done with your shower, you proceed to spend the next few minutes trying to decide what to wear. Not that you think Eddie really cares but you care.

Shit, what should you do? Casual? Sexy? Sexy-casual? Wait, is that even a thing?

Huffing in annoyance at yourself, you remember that there are way more important things to worry about. Also, you have to walk so it’s better to be comfortable. You choose a pair of jeans and a shirt with the D&D logo. You know people in town are still freaked out about the game but you don’t fucking care. It’s fun, it doesn’t hurt anyone, and you know Eddie will love it.

There’s a knock on the front door of the store just as you finish getting dressed.

You poke your head out the window to see the mailman, who waves up at you. You forgot that before everything happened you had ordered a bunch of new things for the store! You’re surprised with everything going on they still got delivered.

Racing down to meet him, you throw open the shop door to find a stack of packages. The postal worker pushes a clipboard at you with paperwork to sign. Once that’s done, he promptly gets back into his truck without a word and takes off to the next place. He doesn’t even wait for you to thank him.

With zero help, you carry the boxes one by one into the shop.

They couldn’t have come at a better time. You search each one, tearing off the tape in a frenzy to get into the box. There is one, in particular, you’re looking for and when you find it, you get ridiculously excited.

After shoving a few choice items into your bag, you leave the shop, making sure to lock up behind you before you set off for the hospital.

Things are still hectic, even in the early morning. While the steady stream of residents leaving is dwindling, the amount of rescue and emergency vehicles are not. Firetrucks still race from fire to fire, and ambulances still screech by on the way to the hospital. Missing person posters cover every available surface and those loved ones who are looking walk the street as well, handing out flyers and asking questions. You get stopped at least a dozen times and take each piece of paper handed to you, carefully putting them in your bag. You promise to check the hospital on your rounds but there’s not much else you can offer but comforting words.

You’ve never been involved in a natural disaster before. The scope of it makes you feel small and insignificant. You have no idea how Hawkins will come back from this or IF it can come back. All you can do is take it one day at a time and help however you can.

When you get to the hospital, the nurses are way too busy to talk or pay attention to you this time. You don’t have a list to work from but at this point, you don’t need it. As much as you want to rush over to see Eddie, once again you decide to leave his room for last. That way you can spend the rest of the day with him if he wants you to at least. You get the feeling that he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.

Your mind has been replaying the events of the day before constantly. It’s on a loop. The hand holding, the gentle caress of his thumb against your chin, the way his eyes grew hooded when he started to lean in, how your body screamed for you to kiss him, kiss him right now!

You’re so focused on what almost happened, that you don’t realize you’re getting funny looks from people. It takes you a second to remember your D&D t-shirt. Geez, even with everything going on people are still worried about the wrong thing. You’re not going to let it get you down and you’re not going to shrink away. With every dirty look, you give a big smile in return and a cheerful, “Good morning!”

In Max’s room, Lucas isn’t reading this time. He’s sitting quietly, staring at the young girl. When you walk in, he barely glances your way. Even without knowing them very well, you can see how much he cares about her.

“Hey, man,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Have you been here all night? You really need to get some sleep.”

“No, I just got here,” Lucas says. “I trade off with her mom every few hours.”

It pains you to hear the heartbreak in his voice, to see the sadness in his eyes. You reach into your bag and pull out one of the new comics that came in that morning. “Here, I have something for Max. She’s been in the shop a couple of times and I know she likes Wonder Woman. Not sure if she’s read this one yet but it’s hers.”

Lucas smiles softly, taking the comic from you. “Thanks. This means a lot, you know.”

“I do what I can.”

Lucas’s eyes stray to your shirt. “Wait, you play D&D?”

“Hell yeah. Do you?”

He nods excitedly. “My friends and I are part of the Hellfire Club and we’ve played for years.”

Hawkins really is a small town. “Well, I want to plan a D&D night,” you say. “If you want, I can run a game for you guys at the shop. I know it’s probably the last thing on anyone’s mind right now but we could all use an escape, some time to think about something else.”

“Cool, I’ll talk to the others.”

There’s a knock on the door and you turn to see a few kids around Lucas’s age huddled in the entry to the room as if they don’t know if they can come in. Lucas urges them forward with a wave and introduces you to them and them to you.

“This is Mike, Will, and Ele-I mean, Jane,” he says. “Guys, she runs the bookstore. She was just talking about running a D&D game at some point.”

Mike and Will perk up at the idea while Jane gives a small shrug. “I’ve never played.”

“Don’t worry, I can teach you,” you offer with a smile. There’s no way you’re going to let another girl avoid trying the game because of the stupid boys club mentality that seems to come with it. “It’s not that hard once you get the basic rules down. It’s essentially group storytelling. No pressure or anything. Like I told Lucas, I’m sure the last thing on people’s minds is playing games right now. But I’m up for it if you guys need something to help unwind.”

“I’m in,” Will says immediately. “It’s been a long time since I’ve played.”

“We’re in too,” Jane declares. She and Mike are holding hands and smiling at each other. “It’ll be nice to learn finally.”

“Yeah, and like you said, it’ll be nice to focus on something else. Even if it’s for a few hours,” Mike says. “We’ll see if Dustin or the others will be up for it. Might be a big group.”

“Great, the more the merrier. Then it’s settled. Tomorrow. We’ll start at three at the shop. Just bring yourselves, I’ll take care of everything else.”

It’s like now that your brain has something to plan, to think about, you’re feeling somewhat useful. You’re definitely excited not just to be able to play but that your idea is being so well-received. Of course, these kids are definitely younger than you and you were hoping for a slightly older crowd but, hey, you’re not going to complain. They need the distraction as much as anyone does. Moreso, you think as you look back at Max. Lucas’s friends crowd around her bed and you take that as a sign it’s time for you to go. With a wave at everyone, you push your cart back out into the hall.

You hope that Eddie will be well enough to be able to join your game. You’re not sure when he can leave the hospital.

Speaking of Eddie.

You rush through the rest of your rounds so you can get to him faster, even more excited to see him and tell him about the game. This time when you go into his room, however, he’s not alone. The Henderson kid from the day before is at his bedside, along with Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, and Robin Buckley.

“Wow, full house in here,” you joke, trying to ease your nervousness.

Eddie gives you that fucking beautiful smile of his and says your name excitedly. “Guys, this is my friend,” he tells the others, motioning to you. “Used to be in classes together way back when.”

“You went to class?” Henderson asks.

Eddie shoves him playfully.

There are butterflies in your stomach at Eddie’s excitement that you’re there. Smiling, you wave at the others. “Sup, Harrington,” you say, nodding at Steve. “Hey, Robin.”

You three had run into each other a couple of times throughout the last year when you went to the video store for some rentals. If the bookstore had a slow day, you’d sometimes close early so you could go over and shoot the shit with them. Nancy you knew from school, though haven’t seen or talked to her as much. Even still, she gives you a warm smile.

“And I’m Dustin,” the Henderson kid says with a wide smile. “And we were all just leaving.”

“What? We just got here!” Steve says confused.

Robin also looks confused. “Am I missing something? Why do we have to leave?”

“No, Dustin’s right, we’re leaving,” Nancy says, pushing Steve towards the door. “Come on, guys.” She grabs Robin’s hand and pulls her along.

“Wait, careful!” Robin exclaims, nearly crashing into your book cart before you have a chance to scoot out of the way. “You know I don’t do well moving fast!”

Dustin brings up the rear, shooing all of Eddie’s friends out of the room before giving you another bright, and knowing smile. “See ya, Eddie!” He all but slams the door behind him.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Damn, I’ve never been one to clear a room before,” you say, looking at Eddie in amusement. “Was it something I said?”

Eddie’s smile widens. “Hardly. Sorry, Henderson lacks subtly.” He pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Have a seat.”

Your heart starts pounding in your chest and your hands are suddenly very clammy. It’s very hard to catch your breath and nothing’s even happened yet. You take the offered seat on the bed and just like that, you’re close to him again. The gauze around his head is gone, leaving a large bandage near his hairline. The bruising on his face is starting to turn yellow at the edges, though his arms are still tightly wrapped in gauze. Now that you’re taking the time to look, it doesn’t seem like his arms are broken or anything, just covered.

Without meaning to, you reach out to gingerly touch the bandage on his head. “Does it hurt?” you ask.

“Only when someone pokes it like that.”

You wince and pull your hand away. “Sorry!”

He catches it, slotting his fingers with yours as he pulls it close to his chest. “Don’t worry about it.”

His other hand cups the back of your neck and the next thing you know, he’s pulling you into a searing kiss. It’s so sudden it takes you by surprise and your brain needs a minute to register what’s happening. And boy is it happening. You’re kissing Eddie Munson, actually kissing Eddie Munson. Or, more accurately, he’s kissing the hell out of you while you sit there like a bump on a log. Once that thought comes through, everything speeds up. You slide your hand into his hair and kiss him back feverishly as if your life depends on it. That heat from the day before is now a raging inferno. His lips are soft and eager against yours and when you open your mouth, his tongue immediately fills the space, stroking and exploring everything it can reach.

He smells like summer nights by the campfire, and he tastes like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You can’t even bring yourself to pause and catch your breath. You have to keep kissing him otherwise you’re going to go crazy. Your body is screaming for more and you let it tell you what it wants. It’s not until you full-on straddle him that you remember where you are and break the kiss with a gasp.

Eddie’s staring up at you with those beautiful brown eyes, the edges of his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. His cheeks are red and his lips glisten in the florescent lights.

“Shit, sorry, I got carried away,” you pant, yet make no attempt to move.

“It’s okay. Totally fine.”

He yanks you down into another kiss, his hand cradling the back of your head again to keep you in place. You can’t help but moan softly, which makes him hold you tighter. The hardness of his body beneath the thin hospital sheets is tantalizingly within reach and when he thrusts his hips up seeking some kind of friction, you’re more than happy to give it. But when you put your weight on him, he makes a noise of pain and you jerk away.

“Oh gosh, I didn’t even think…” You hurry to get off him. “You’re in the hospital for fuck’s sake. I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

“No, no, no, wait, come back.” He doesn’t let you get very far before he’s kissing you, tugging on your shirt to try to get you to straddle him again.

This time, however, your brain is a little more focused and you draw back. “You’re injured. I don’t want to hurt you even more.”

“Please, please hurt me. I don’t care.”

He dives in for one more kiss and you meet him halfway, this time being more mindful of his injured body. Instead of straddling him, you stay sitting on the bed but that doesn’t mean your kiss is tamer. It’s just as desperate as his. You’ve waited years for this moment and, if you’re not mistaken, Eddie is acting like he has too.

When breathing becomes necessary, you reluctantly break away. Eddie remains close, his hand stroking your cheek and his loving gaze taking you in.

“That was…unexpected,” you say.

“Figured I’d make up for being interrupted yesterday.”

“I approve.”

“Also I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

“Really?”

He nods, his nose nuzzling yours. “Really.”

This time the kiss is gentle, slow, almost like he’s savoring it. You know you are. Your body melts against his and it’s like every muscle breathes a sigh of relief. The two of you enjoy a few lazy kisses like you have all the time in the world.

The next time you pull back, he gives you a dazzling smile.

“That was…” You try to find the right word.

“Hot? Sexy? Awesome? Fucking amazing?”

You laugh. “Yeah, all of the above.” You smile, stroking his cheek this time, touching his face to tell yourself that it’s all real and this is actually happening. “I suppose we should probably talk about all this.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He pauses before wagging his eyebrows. “Or…”

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. You’re kissing him before he says another word. Now that you are finally getting what you want, there’s no way you can stop yourself. Eddie seems to be thinking the same thing.

Minutes tick by and you barely notice, too focused on the hot man who’s devouring your mouth like he’s starving. You feel heat behind you, and it’s then that you realize, Eddie’s hand slid under your shirt and is resting on your lower back. The skin-to-skin contact almost makes you combust. Every nerve is on end, drawing attention to the stroke of his callous fingers. Even still, you need a second to catch your breath, to think about what’s happening.

You break the kiss but stay close, unable and unwilling to put any kind of distance between you two. “Don’t you think we’re moving a little fast?”

Eddie purses his lips. Once more, his hand returns to stroke your cheek, his knuckles gently stroking over the tender flesh. “When you think you’re going to die, when your life flashes before your eyes, you start to think of all the stuff you didn’t get to do. And for me, there was one thought.”

“What was it?”

He smiles. “I thought of you.”

“And that you didn’t get to do me?”

At that, he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. “Among other things. Mostly, I didn’t fucking take the chance to ask you out when I had it.”

“So do it now.”

“Will you go out with me?”

You hum and pretend to think, moving to rest with him in bed. His arm slides around you, pulling you closer. “I don’t know,” you tease. “I may need more convincing.”

“Oh, I can make that happen.”

The rest of the day passes in a blur of kisses and soft touches. Nothing more than that physically but a hell of a lot more emotionally. You two talk, catching each other up on what’s been going on aside from the earthquake. That smile of his never leaves, never even wavers. Eventually, you get out of his bed and sit in the chair, but that’s only because you hear one of the doctors coming and you don’t want them to kick you out for snuggling and making out with the patient.

The doctor doesn’t care. He barely even pays attention to you two as he does his rounds and moves on. You’re a little annoyed by his indifference but Eddie waves it off and your catching up continues.

By the time night rolls around, you’re tired and hungry but don’t want to leave his side. Eddie has been holding your hand pretty much the entire time and squeezes it when he notices your eyes drooping.

“You should go get some rest,” he says.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“It’s okay, my uncle should be coming by soon anyway.”

You raise your joined hands and press his hand to your cheek. “Yeah, but you’re super cute and I want to make out some more.”

He bites his bottom lip as he smiles. “You have no idea what hearing you say that is doing to me.”

“Maybe once you’re out of here you can show me.”

“You fucking know I will.”

You kiss again, this one filled with silent promises and a tease of what’s to come when you can finally have him all to yourself. Even though he was the one to suggest you go home, he has a hard time letting you go, insisting on pulling you in for “one more kiss” each time to try to stand up. It makes you stupidly giddy and you can’t stop smiling.

“Alright, alright,” you say, finally detaching yourself from his embrace. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning. It’s not my volunteer day so I can just hang out with you.”

“Fucking awesome. Looking forward to it.”

You study him for a moment, basking in the warmth flooding from him, your heart so full it feels like it can burst. Being with him all day and finally taking stock of all his injuries makes you realize how incredibly lucky he is to still be alive. And how lucky you are that he is. “I’m glad you’re safe,” you say.

Eddie brings your hand to his lips and places a peck on your knuckles. “I’m glad you’re safe too.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

You reach into your bag and pull out a small pouch. Eddie smiles. “What’s this? You got me a present?”

“Technically I bought it for myself but I think you should have them.”

Eddie opens the pouch and turns it upside down in his palm. Seven dice slide out. His eyes widen he looks up excitedly. “Oh man! You’re giving me dice?”

“Trust me, I have plenty. Besides, these made me think of you.”

The dice are black with swirls of red through them. On the twenty-sided one, where the number one should be is a skull and crossbones. Eddie closes his hand around the dice and with his free hand, cups the back of your head again. “I love them. Come here.”

A few more kisses are exchanged before you extract yourself from him for good this time. Not that you want to. If you could stay there all night kissing him you would. “You can use them when you join my game tomorrow.”

“So you’re actually going to do it? That’s sick! I didn’t know you had set a date.”

“I’m running it mostly for Lucas Sinclair and his friends. And I know you’re always the one being the Dungeon Master. Figured you’d like to be a player for once.”

“Babe, you can be my dungeon master any day.”

You grin, leaning in to place a quick peck on his cheek. “For that, we’d have to be alone, though,” you whisper in his ear.

Eddie groans as you draw away. “God damn it, woman, don’t say shit like that to me when you have to leave.”

“Something for you to think about later.”

“Trust me, I will.”

As much as it pains you to leave Eddie, you do, with the promise of coming back as soon as possible. He smiles from his bed, wiggling his fingers in a silly wave. God, you are absolutely falling for that nerd. It turns out to be a good thing you leave when you do because on your way out you pass Eddie’s uncle. At least you know he won’t be alone for the next few hours.

Night has fallen by now and it’s dark when you step out of the hospital. You don’t really notice or care. It’s like you’re walking on clouds and it takes all you have not to skip down the street like a schoolgirl with a crush. Because it’s so much more than that. You know it is. You can feel it in your bones. You’re smiling the entire time, your mind thinking of the hours you’ve spent with Eddie.

“Hey! Hey, you!”

It takes you a second to realize someone is trying to get your attention. With a frown, you look back to see two guys wearing letterman jackets. They’re leaning against a car, both eyes on you as you walk. At first, you think they’re just some assholes catcalling the first woman that crosses their path, but then you see their eyes stray to your D&D shirt.

“Can I help you?” you ask.

“You shouldn’t wear shirts like that,” one says. “That Dungeons and Dragons shit isn’t welcome around here.”

“We are literally in the middle of a natural disaster. I don’t give two shits what you think about my t-shirt.”

The other guy speaks up, standing up straight next to his buddy. “He’s right. You should be careful. You never know who’s watching.”

A chill runs down your spine but there’s no way you’re going to let some teenage pissants intimidate you. “How about you two run home to your mommies?” you ask. “I’m sure they’re wondering where their mediocre offspring are. Hope you guys have a nice life knowing you peaked in high school.”

You keep walking, and even though you know they aren’t following you, you can feel their eyes burning holes in the back of your head.

When you get to the bookstore, you make sure to double lock the doors. The street outside is empty but it takes a long time for you to shake off the feeling of unease. To take your mind off things, you spend the next hour or so moving things around the shop and making room for the game. It’s the first one you’re running yourself and the excitement is enough to make you forget about those assholes. You go to bed excited for the first time in a long time.

The next morning, you wake up refreshed and eager to get to the hospital. You don’t even look at the time. You throw on whatever clothes you can find, pop an Eggo waffle into the toaster, and eat it as you’re flying out the door.

The morning is cool and for the first time in weeks, you don’t hear the sounds of sirens or fire trucks racing by. But before you can go see your man, because you absolutely referring to him as your man already in your head, there is one stop you have to make. You have another box to donate to the shelter, this time one that’s filled with comic books. You are walking that way when a car slowly pulls up beside you.

Immediately, you think of the two guys from the night before, and your body tenses, before you hear Steve call your name. You relax, turning to look at him. “Hey, Harrington.”

“Where are you headed? Need a ride?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great, actually.”

“Get in!”

You open the door to the back and shove the box in there before climbing into the passenger’s seat. “Thanks for the ride,” you say as he pulls back onto the main road. “I thought you were some douchey teenagers.”

“Let me guess, the ones with lettermen jackets?”

“Bingo.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, those assholes are pissy that their best friend was found guilty of murder. They’re harassing pretty much everyone.”

“Apparently they didn’t like my Dungeons and Dragons t-shirt.”

“Yup, that’ll do it.”

“So when did you become friends with Eddie?” you ask. The question has been on your mind since the morning before when you walked in on him and the others in Eddie’s room. He and Harrington never really hung out in the same circles so you were more than surprised to see him.

“It’s a long story.” Steve doesn’t elaborate. Like with Eddie, you get the sense he doesn’t really want to talk about it.

“Well, I’m glad you guys are hanging out. I hate the way this town is treating him.”

“Eddie’s a good guy, and I don’t think it’s any surprise that he has a massive crush on you.”

Your cheeks immediately get warm and you chuckle. “The feeling is mutual.”

“So I was told.” At your questioningly look, he chuckles. “Dustin Henderson. The kid can’t keep a secret to save his life. He said he walked in on you guys the other day. Nancy put two and two together.”

“Walked in sounds like we were doing something. We weren’t. But…yeah there’s something there.”

Steve smirks. “Nothing like the end of the world to bring two people together.” There’s a hint of…something in his voice that you can’t quite place. You know he dated Nancy back in school but you also know they had been broken up for years. Seeing them together yesterday, you couldn’t help wondering if there were still some sparks.

“Hey, you and Nancy should come to the D&D game I’m running later. Bring Robin too. Lucas and his friends are coming and I’m sure Dustin will be joining them.”

Normally that is way too many people for one game but you’re desperate for human interaction and if Eddie’s going to be there, you want him to be surrounded by people who care about him.

“You sure you want to let the whole gang into your shop?” Steve asks teasingly. “Once you do, you won’t be able to get rid of them. I should know. I’ve been their de-facto babysitter for like two years now.”

You laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Then count me in. Even though I have no idea what Dungeons and Dragons even is.”

“You’ll learn.”

He motions to the box in the back. “Are those for the shelter? Because I’m headed there now. I can just take it for you and drop you off at the hospital.”

“Perfect, thanks, Steve.”

You two talk for a bit before he pulls up outside the hospital and you get out, thanking him for the ride. He gives you a mock salute. “Tell Eddie we’ll see him later.”

“I will.”

Eddie is asleep when you slip into his room. His uncle is wide awake, sitting in the chair by his bed and staring off into space. When he sees you, he clears his throat and sits up. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, Mr. Munson,” you say before you introduce yourself. “I’m a friend of Eddie’s.”

“Yeah, he told me about you. Said you would be coming by.”

He gets up from the chair. “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you say quietly, not wanting to wake Eddie. “I can come back later.”

“No need. I have to get some rest. Figure things out.” Mr. Munson scratches absentmindedly at the stubble on his chin. “Glad he has so many friends to stick by him.”

“He’s a great guy.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it.”

You take the seat Mr. Munson offers and, after an awkward pat on your shoulder, he leaves. Eddie is still fast asleep so you make yourself comfortable and just watch. His face, usually so expressive and full of life, is relaxed and serene. It makes you think of waking up next to him and seeing him like this, how you would cuddle close and wake him up with soft kisses.

Dear god. All it took was twenty-four hours with Eddie back in your life for you to turn into a lovestruck mess.

You’re not there for more than five minutes when he stirs and opens those brown eyes. As soon as he sees you, he smiles sleepily. “Morning, gorgeous.”

“Good morning, handsome.” You lean forward and place a kiss on his forehead.

There’s a knock on the door and you pull away before it opens. Instead of Dustin like you were expecting, it’s the same doctor from the day before. He is holding Eddie’s chart, studying it as he enters the room. His expression is pinched like he’d rather be somewhere else.

“Time to check those bandages, Mr. Munson,” he says, ignoring you and moving to stand on the other side of Eddie’s bed.

Eddie takes your hand and you hold it for dear life as the doctor checks his wounds. The bandages on one of his arms are peeled away and you gasp when you see the collection of cuts and bruises. What the hell would cause all of that? Those cuts don’t look like they could have been made by anything you’re familiar with. And are those bite marks? What the actual fuck?! It almost looks like he was scratched and bit by an animal. Or multiple animals.

His other arm isn’t much better.

Your hands stay clasped together until the doctor is done. “Looks like you’re healing fairly well,” the man concludes. “And your blood work looks good. We should have you out of here in an hour.”

You frown. While it’s great to hear that Eddie’s doing okay, he’s clearly still incredibly injured and it didn’t seem right to you that he leave the hospital. At least not yet. “Don’t you think that’s a little soon?”

The doctor doesn’t even acknowledge your presence or that you said anything. Eddie doesn’t like that. “She asked you a question, doc.”

“We need the beds.”

The doctor jots something down on Eddie’s chart and then he’s gone a second later. He never made eye contact with you or Eddie the entire time he was there. Eddie sighs and sits up in bed. Your eyes travel to the marks on his arms, which are still visible now that the gauze that wrapped them is gone. There are still bandages over some of the more severe wounds. Through his hospital gown, you can see his wrapped torso and it makes you wonder how bad those wounds must be.

“That’s not right for them to kick you out like that,” you say. “You’re just as hurt as some of the others and they aren’t kicking them out.”

“No one wants a cult leader hanging around the hospital,” Eddie says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Bad for business and all that.”

You huff in anger. Fuck this town and fuck that doctor in particular. “Where are you going to go?”

Eddie shrugs. “I guess with my uncle to the shelter.”

So that’s what his uncle was saying when he meant “figure things out”. He knew they would be releasing Eddie early.

You know what the shelter is like, know that people are still talking shit about Eddie and calling him a murderer. Apparently, it doesn’t matter that someone else was found guilty. In their minds, Eddie is still the guilty one. You don’t like the idea of Eddie being weak and vulnerable around all those people.

“Or…” you say, your throat going dry as the suggestion pops into your head. “You can stay with me.”

Eddie’s eyes flit up to meet yours. Just like that, the heat that was simmering below the surface comes bubbling up. “You want me to stay with you?”

You nod excitedly. The more you think about it, the more you’re loving the idea. “I have the space and you can actually get some peace and quiet while you recover.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You wouldn’t. It would actually make me feel a hell of a lot better because I’d know you were safe.”

Eddie ponders your suggestion and your stomach flutters, worried he’s going to turn you down. After about a minute or so, his eyes meet yours again, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“One question though,” he says, squeezing your hand and raising his eyebrow. “Do I get the couch or the bed?”

Taglist

@ajeff855

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #strangerthings #joseph quinn

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lialacleaf · 2 years

Text

The Chief and the Intern - The Brave and the Bold - Master Chief X Reader

Masterlist

You felt a pounding in your head like nothing you had ever experienced in your life. Someone gently called you, but the moment you tried to open your eyes to see who it was, the fluorescent lights above you made you squeeze your eyes shut once again.

“(Y/LN)....(Y/FN)? My name is Dr. Aldias, can you hear me?” The voice was soft and soothing, and you felt as if you could willingly drown in it. “I’m sorry, I don’t think she’ll be awake to talk to you anytime soon,” the doctor said, and your brow furrowed in confusion.

“Understood, Ma’am.” You recognized that voice. It was the one that had promised to get you to safety. The Master Chief himself.

“Master Chief?” you murmured, and the room fell silent. You heard heavy footfalls approach your bed and groaned, feeling as if every step he took was a nail being drilled into your skull.

“Yes Ma’am?” he asked, and when you opened your eyes, his gloved hand was shielding your eyes from the bright light.

“The research base…some of us didn’t escape…” His helmeted head nodded in understanding. “We’re prepping a team for insertion. Command was hoping you’d have some valuable information.”

You nodded, attempting to very slowly sit up, a task he quickly aided you with, keeling at your bedside. His hands were warm on your shoulders as he helped situate you more comfortably. “The banished wanted the colony's resources, or at least the ones in production. They kept a lot of us alive to work, myself included.”

His hand settled on your knee, and you blinked in surprise. “Were there any other civilians?” he asked gently.

“Not anymore,” you murmured, answering his unspoken question. You attempted to stand, but his hands moved back to your shoulders, preventing you from going anywhere.

“You need to stay here and recover. According to Dr. Aldias, you’re suffering from head trauma,” he stated bluntly.

“I want to help,” you argued. “I may not be a soldier but-”

“You’re staying here,” he finalized, squeezing your shoulders softly.

“My friends are down there, I spent months living with those people,” you argued.

He cocked his head at you contemplatively, as if he were mulling his words over carefully. “Most civilians don’t make it out of combat alive. By the time my team is sent in, there are none of you left, and we’re hauling out as many marines as we can. I was lucky to find you before anything happened. The last thing I want to see down there is a dead civilian, so how about you stay up here so I don’t have to? Can you do that for me?”

You felt your jaw go slack as you stared at him. If Dr. Aldias’ reaction of widened eyes was anything to go by, you supposed that was far more personable than Spartans, than the Master Chief, would usually behave. “I…ok,” you stumbled over your words, your eyes falling away from his visor.

He gave your shoulder another soft squeeze. “Thank you.” And then he was gone, off to prep his team for a rescue mission. He’d thanked you. As if he hadn’t saved your life, carried you to the med-bay, and talked you down from rushing into battle to get yourself killed.

The more you thought about it the more embarrassed you became. You were probably only so agitated and determined due to your concussion. You leaned back against your bed and groaned as Dr. Aldias went about checking your vitals.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so…personable,” she commented after a moment of silence.

Your head shot up curiously. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“Oh I’m sure it’s nothing,” she murmured, shaking her head. You blinked in confusion as she took a few notes down on her clipboard. “Get some rest, (Y/N).”

When you awoke the second time, the lights were dimmed, and your eyes had to adjust to the lack of light. The clock on the wall read 2200 hours, and you found yourself having to count backward to determine the time.

Dr. Aldias was nowhere to be seen, and your stomach had begun to rumble hungrily. When was the last time you’d had a meal? Well, you hadn’t exactly had a real meal in quite a while. The banished hadn’t been feeding you very well to begin with.

You considered trying to find the mess hall yourself, but starships were massive, and you didn’t know where to find any shoes. You carefully got to your feet, looking around for any sign of your uniform shoes. Would it be appropriate for you to explore in your socks and med-bay scrubs? It wasn’t as if you were wearing a hospital dress.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the hulking figure in the corner of the room stand from his seat. He was deathly quiet, and when you backed into him it was all you could do to contain a shriek.

His hands shot out to steady you, and you swallowed thickly. “Chief…I didn’t know you were here, maybe make a little more noise next time,” you suggested with a tinge of embarrassment clouding your voice.

“Apologies, you seemed bothered by it before. I take it that means your head is feeling better?”

You blinked in surprise. He had remembered that? Was that also why the lights had been dimmed? “No, no it’s ok,” you insisted, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” you weren’t entirely sure who you were trying to convince.

“Ma’am,” he stated softly.

“(y/n),” you corrected. You were sick of being called Ma’am. You weren’t an officer or anyone of high importance really. You were an intern, and you couldn’t help but feel like a rather pathetic one after the display you’d put on when he’d found you.

“(y/n), considering the events of the past few days, it would be completely understandable if you were not fine.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. It was beginning to unnerve you that you couldn’t see his face. How were you supposed to read him with that visor in the way? Maybe that was the point, you supposed.

“When is Dr. Aldias coming back?” you asked softly. You needed food, and some shoes, and maybe some pain meds for the pain in your shoulders.

“Dr. Aldias is…overwhelmed at the moment,” he murmured.

“With the survivors?” you asked. You had completely forgotten about that. He nodded rather grimly, and you couldn’t help but feel…alone. You didn’t know anyone else on this ship. You didn’t even know who you were supposed to report to. With a heavy sigh, you found yourself taking a seat on your cot. “What am I supposed to do,” you whispered to yourself.

The Chief regarded you with the tilt of his helmet. You looked lost, and alone. He knew what being alone felt like. Until he’d been re-uinited with Blue Team he’d felt very alone. Especially after losing Cortana. He couldn’t help but think back to the sight of you curled in on yourself on the battlefield, and felt his stomach drop. Whatever you had felt in that moment, he didn’t want you to ever feel again.

How he was supposed to make you feel better was an absolute mystery to him however, and he simply put a hand on your shoulder. “(y/n)?” he called softly as your eyes became a little glassy.

You screwed your eyes shut, not wanting to burden the Chief with witnessing you cry. “I don’t know where my shoes are,” you murmured, voice coming out hoarce. He cocked his head at you, but you couldn’t decipher the nature of it. “Or where the mess is, or my clothes,” you ranted softly.

“(y/n),” he said sternly, gaining your attention. “Everything is going to be just fine. Those things can be taken care of. We can even contact your family if you’d like,” he offered.

Oh God, your family. They probably thought you were dead after not having been contacted by you for months. It took a moment for it to even register what a kind offer that was. “I appreciate the offer but…don’t you also have more pressing responsibilities?” you asked, trying to be as considerate as possible. He was the Master Chief after all.

He was quiet for a moment, before kneeling down in front of you as his hands settled on either side of his helmet before, much to your surprise, lifting it off his head and setting it on the cot beside you. “My team and I have been ordered to remain on the Infinity for the time being. I promise you it’s no distraction.”

Your eyes swept over his face before landing on those clear blue eyes set on either side of a broad nose, shrouded beneath dark eyebrows. He tilted his head at you in an almost curious manner. You looked softer without the barrier of his visor between the two of you. “Shouldn’t you be taking the opportunity to rest yourself?” you asked.

He raised one of those thick brows at you, the ghost of a smile flashing across those lips. “I’ve had plenty of rest of the past few days.”

Your eyes narrowed in a mix of confusion and disbelief. “Days?” you asked. He nodded affirmatively.

“You’ve been here for three, to be exact,” he explained, standing to his full height. “Considering how long you’ve been out, it’s no surprise you’d be hungry.” He offered you a hand up, delicately holding onto you when you took it.

The Chief’s eyes roved over your face, and his blank expression turned into a frown as he took in the bruises on the right side of your face, momentarily reliving the relief he’d felt when he’d scooped you up to find that you were, in fact, alive after that grenade had sent you flying. He’d watched too many people die, too mant fiends, too many allies. He hadn’t been able to save hundreds of people in New Pheonix, or Cortana, or his Spartans, Miranda, Johnson, Sam. The list went on and on. But he’d saved you. And that had felt…rewarding. Like he wasn’t entirely useless. He didn’t realize how badly he had needed that until you were nestled in his arms.

It had felt like having a purpose again, he realized. “Clothes first, then food,” he said, and you nodded in approval.

“Thanks you,” you murmured, swallowing what remained of your anxiety and sadness. Neither of those things would help you right now.“And I’d like to apologize, I was a bit…confused before. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I didn’t mean to be difficult.”

You could have sworn you saw his lips quirk in amusement. “Normal for someone experiencing a brain injury, I’d say. And brave of you,” he added as an afterthought.

“I didn’t feel very brave when I was knocked on my ass that morning.”

“It’s harder to keep a clear head in real combat,” He answered, leading you out of your little room, placing his helmet on as the two of you left the med-bay behind. You couldn’t help but think that if you were going to continue working for the UNSC, that might just be a good skill to learn. And you were pretty sure you were looking and the best damn teacher too. Baby steps, you thought. For now, you needed a meal.

I'm thrilled so many people are interested in this little series, hope you all enjoy~

@zizzlekwum @117s-girl @embarrassedauthornerd

please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this series!

#spartan 117 #john 117 #master chief #halo #john117 #blue team #kelly 087 #linda 058 #fred 104 #master chief x reader #halo fanfiction

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stardustdiiving · 8 months

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From the ship ask! What's a pairing most people seem to like in Genshin that you don't?

(ship asks prompt)

MAN OKAY I honestly could answer this with a good third of popular Genshin ships…but none of these are really solid dislikes, it’s just me feeling specific about how I like to see it executed & finding the way the fandom handles it is either unsatisfying, or generates an environment that kinda stresses me out NJDNCNC

To narrow it down to one I feel matches the question best I think I’m gonna go with Kokomi/Sara. It’s not really an active dislike or anything I promise I’m genuinely chilling. *insane person voice* but see I am just very stressed out with the in universe geo-politics happening in the background of this Genshin impact ship

I MEAN THAT IN A VERY SILLY WAY. but also I do have a genuine elaboration on what i mean which is like…how do I say this.

I really like Watasumi Island and find their existence + circumstances as a nation really interesting, especially regarding their dynamic with the Shogunate—it’s like the one part of inazuman politics that really catches my interest. But see the way I took the way the Shogunate + Watasumi dynamic was being written was specifically that Watasumi is/was suffering from colonization/imperialism at the hands of the Shogunate. I don’t see them as equal enemies on opposing sides of a conflict I’m just kind of like. Oh my god the Shogunate tries to control their primary food sources + military and after the war u see like, Gorou helping smuggle medicine and food supplies to treat their wounded war veterans bc the Shogunate is imposing high taxes on them they can’t afford to pay. The Raiden Shogun slaughtered their deity who was kind of backed into a corner on trying to secure vital resources for his people and to this day his corpse is just sitting on her territory getting ravaged and mined for weapons !! That’s crazy! I like thinking Abt that!

While I think Inazuma suffered from the writers dropping the ball with a lot of things I am generally happy this dynamic is explored/acknowledged repeatedly and Watasumi at least to me doesn’t feel like it’s constantly written in a really meanspirited and shitty way you know. Like, in the medicine supply smuggling thing i mentioned — that’s a route in Heizhou’s hangout that ends in a conclusion that something may have severely hurt the vitality of Watasumi’s land and it’s ability to provide, but that doesn’t mean they won’t survive or all hope is lost, because theres people within Watasumi who care and embody that hope and vitality within themselves and are working hard to build stability and provide for everyone. Like idk that’s really cool and I genuinely found it a really nice narrative that really makes me root for Watasumi

But then we get to Sara & Kokomi and ppl just do not talk about this dynamic between both nations at all from what I see, despite it being really relevant to the characters and in theory the appeal of the ship? And I jusurjfucn I guess it confuses me a lot bc I remember, most recently for example on the TCG event, I was so confused seeing everyone post about their interactions for days about how it was cute they were engaging in card matches together and Sara wanted to be friends…and then I played the event myself and we get this scene where Kokomi is standing off starring out at sea alone, and she talks about how she doesn’t like how she can’t see Watasumi from here, and how that was especially agonizing to experience during the war, and then gets caught up in her memories of the war and talks about how a lot of her people are still recovering from the trauma of it, and how she’s participating in this event bc she’s anxious about wanting to build good relations between the Shogunate and Watasumi so her nation doesn’t suffer more in the future AND IM JUST…MAN

Like I do think I can see Sara & Kokomi being friends, Sara’s character feels like it’s the concept of “individual with genuinely good morals working in an oppressive system doesnt stop the damage the system causes” kind of deal BUT IDK…I get fandom experiences can very anecdotal and I’m sure there are shippers who handle this aspect of the ship but when at large it just feels like it’s filed down to a vague enemies to lovers + contrasting aesthetic girlfriends ship I guess it def leans more towards being one I’m not really into. I think it doesn’t help it strikes the specific fandom pet peeve I have where I sometimes feel ppl water down a lot of wlw ships down to just being surface level cute and I am a lesbian who likes very nuanced and complicated character dynamic exploration so I’m personally just like. Yeah idk I guess this seems rlly widely accepted fanon wise but I don’t rlly click with it at all djjcnfj while I could be interested in this dynamic being explored, just if I were doing my own take on it ik adding romantic tones wouldnt feel super necessary to make it feel more interesting to me personally yk x__x

I just feel very excitable about a lot of genshin things and Watasumi vs Shogunate related things hits that mark of interest for me…definitely not implying the shippers r doing something wrong by making silly lighthearted posts and being less interested in types of analysis I enjoy but I guess that’s the most popular ship I feel the least interested in I can think of?

#fern.txt #asks #ask game #I tried to pick a more specific ship to discuss vs smthng I feel is more standard or expected #in terms of ‘popular ship u habe unpopular opinion Abt’ for genshin #ppl rag on ships like xv and zc a lot in these kinds of contexts n while I get what ppl mean when #they gripe about mischaracterizations but that happens with every ship and I don’t get ppl being hostile Abt either pairings #bc there’s plenty of cases I feel they can be fun and am down/open to interpretations of it….everyone has their own take on their Guys you k #maybe that’s bc anyone ik who likes it on my feed is just rlly nice and chill n I like their posts Abt it #like I 110% know how polarizing fandom can be and how u can get sour Abt things if u run into the wrong ppl enough #but sometimes ppl r so mean #Abt the ppl who like popular Genshin ships in general when i think like all of them r generally fine n maybe it’s me being very #specific in how I think of fandom but all their popularities make sense even with the one I talked Abt here #this one is just the one I guess I would feel i get the least but that doesn’t mean I don’t get it st all JDJNCNC

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michigo-eevee-trainer · 1 year

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Murder Drones

Murder Drones is a new animation made by the people on the Glitch YouTube channel. It takes place on a planet that is not Earth. The humans there were using robots to mine the resources on the planet. However, the human, being stupid, wiped themselves out on that planet. The Robots were free to do what they wanted but the people still on Earth didn't like that fact. So they sent Disassembly Drones to the planet to try and wipe all of the Robots out. This story follows an angsty teenage named Uzi who accidentally befriends a Disassembly Drone named N. Already this story has an interesting set up and makes you wonder where all of this is going to go. There is quite a bit of comedy in this one but it also does the serious moments quite well too. It's a good mixing of both. Sure there are characters cliches we've all seen a million times before but, for me at least, that's not enough to ruin anything for me. So I'm going to talk about the show while going over some things I would like to see happen in Murder Drones. So far, there's only 3 episodes and I will be talking about things that happen those episodes. If you wish to watch them first, go right ahead.

1. Absolute Solver

This seems like it's one of the two major points of the story this season. From what we know, the Absolute Solver is a program inside of the Disassembly Drones that helps them recover from any kind of injury. However, it's also shown that Worker Drones can have this program as well and can use it to manipulate the things around them. I would love to see the cast discover more about this program and who made it. And how did the Worker Drones get it? Was it from their parents or did they get it after encountering a Disassembly Drone and surviving? I don't really want to think about these Robots reproducing but....well....Also I get the feeling that Doll will return at some point. After all, Doll seems to know a lot about this Absolute Solver program as she is one of the Worker Drone who can use the program. She's a very good source of information so they would probably want to find her. We also need to figure out what the Absolute Solver actually does to a Worker Drone. Doll seemed to be upset when she found out that Uzi could use the Absolute Solver as well. Even promising to help her once she found what she needed. This program can go a number of different ways and I can't wait to see where this goes.

2. Disassembly Drones Needing Oil

So this is something that was told to us by N in the first episode. How the Disassembly Drones need the oil from the Worker Drones in order to stop from overheating and dying. This feels like it's the second major plot point of the series. After all, N is a Disassembly Drone and, if this is true, then he's going to need the oil sooner or later. So far, he seems to be doing alright as he's able to fight and pull himself back together again. There are two ways I can see this plot point playing out.

One is N does need the oil in order to survive. Not only with what N said but with what happened last episode. N got injured in the 3rd episode though he was able to pull himself back together just fine. But the thing is, he wasn't completely healed. He still had some of the injuries he had from the earlier attack when normally those would have healed right up. It actually took until after the fight for the injuries to seem to be healed. This might be pointing to the fact that the lower oil he has, the less likely he is to heal off injuries or the longer it will take for him to heal. I can see it playing out like N knows he's running low on oil and tries to play it off. Uzi, however, can see right through it and makes him spill the beans to what is going on. From there, it would be up to Uzi to find some oil to help N. She would probably have to find some that Doll stashed somewhere or find a way to make it herself. This girl built a working railgun from straps. I'm sure she could figure out how to build a machine that would make the oil N would need. This way would actually give them a bit of a bargaining chip against the Disassembly Drones. After all, if the Workers can make the oil, then there's no reason to kill them for it. I can also see N becoming more feral as he starts running out of oil. Kind of like a instinct thing in order to get more. I can also see him immediately snapping back to normal once he has it, like nothing had even happened. It would just depend on what the writers want to do about this. Though there is that super obvious third option but I don't think either of them would go that far.

Second is I can see this need for oil thing being just something that was programed by the humans and it's not actually necessary for them to have it. Let's face it. Humans are cruel and will do what they have to in order to get the job done. They wouldn't feel anything lying to something they only see as a Robot. There's not any evidence to support this but I think it's an interesting take on it. It would not be good for N's mental state or even the other Disassembly Drones to learn that truth. N would probably feel so guilty knowing he killed a lot of Drones for the oil that he didn't even need.

3. N Rebelled

This point kind of got glossed over in the past episodes but the fact remains that N went against his mission. He went against the other Disassembly Drones, against the company, even against his own programing. This is bound to do something for N one way or anything. With that new characters Tessa being introduced at the end of the third episode, I think this spells bad news for N. Tessa seems to be some kind of technician which means she probably knows how the Disassembly Drones work. Which means she might be able to do something to N. She might make him go against Uzi and try to get N to kill her. I'm sure if she did do that, Uzi wouldn't want to fight N, considering they are friends, and would have to figure out how to return him to normal.

Also something else I thought about. Since N is no longer trying to kill everything, I think it would be really interesting for him to rejoin the Worker Drones where Uzi lives. It would be cool to see him interact with more of the Drones and learn more about the Worker Drones. Also this would give him more of a chance to actually interact with Uzi. Which is always a good thing since these two are the main characters of the show. And because he can't be in the sun, it would give him a place to hide out when the sun is out. I just want to see N somewhere else other than hiding out in the weird tower.

4. Uzi's Mom

Now this might seem like a weird thing to talk about but I feel like it's important. I just feel like she's a bigger part of all of this. One reason being is that the Absolute Solver program inside of J said it knew Uzi. But when it showed the hologram, it looked like someone who was older holding a baby. That Baby had the Absolute Solver symbol on their eyes. Uzi even states when the hologram disappears 'What's up with the Mother Hologram?'. This tells me that the hologram wasn't of Uzi but of her mother. That baby she was holding was most likely Uzi which, if this is true, also confirms that Uzi had that Absolute Solver program since birth. For some reason though, it's only coming out now. We never see Uzi's mother in the show. By the time the show starts, her mother is dead. Uzi's Dad says he had to finish her off when she was mortally wounded by the Disassembly Drones. I wonder how true that story is and if maybe there is another reason for Uzi's mother death.

5. Uzi and N's Relationship

Episode 3 was about Prom though a lot of other stuff happens in this episode. One being that they seem to be slowly bringing these two together as a couple. Which is a good thing. I like that they're taking this slowly as it would make more sense for them to build the relationship up slowly. I can't tell you how annoying it is for people to shove two people together who have no chemistry on screen but they managed to spend a few moments on screen together. I like that these two are starting off as friends and could possibly go to more. They work off each other really well and I could see these two becoming a couple if the creators wish to go that way and continue building it up. They also give each other something they've lacked. For N, Uzi gives him the respect that he never got before. For Uzi, N gives her the support that she never got for her Dad. It will help them both to grow into better characters if they keep up with this. Hopefully, we get some more cute moments between the two of them as the series goes on. A few situations that would be funny and cute to watch.

For one reason or another, Uzi invites N to stay at the bunker with them. N is excited as he thinks it'll be a super fun sleepover. This could include some shots of them just being goofy which they really need after everything that has happened. At one point, Uzi dozes off so N turns off the light and goes to sleep himself. When they wake up, they realize they are cuddling. They quickly move away from each other startled by this. N starts trying to apologize while Uzi brushes it off as not a big deal. You know, friends do that sometimes, or so she's heard, so it's no big deal. N drops it there while Uzi is freaking out a little bit internally due to it.

After more interactions between the two, Uzi is in her room and N is in the Drone tower. Both are alone and pacing. Jump cut between them as they try to figure out what the other means to them. They list off what they like about the other and some quirks they have. How they are so easy to talk to about anything and how accepting the other is. N would address his crush on V but say he no longer feels anything for her. This keeps going until both come to the conclusion that they're in love with the other. Uzi kind of has that why him kind of thing going on while N just straight up panics because he had no idea what to do with this. From there, it could be the two of them trying to hide the fact that they do love each other while making it stupidly obvious to everyone else around them.

Basically I just want them to spend more time together and how some more moments between the two of them. If the creators want to make these two a couple, then I really hope they keep going with this set up. If they want them to just stay friends, then fine by me. Either way will be good. Though I can also see Uzi like giving N a kiss on the cheek in the heat of the moment and him just falling over in a daze because he doesn't know how to react to it.

And that's it. Those are my thoughts on Murder Drones. I can't wait to see where this is going to go as it's already shaping up to be an amazing series. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go order a N plushie.

#Murder Drones #Watch it #Do it now

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lulubelle814 · 3 months

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Regards, Loki - Chapter 21

Master List

Louisa didn’t feel like going out. The thought of it, right now, scared her. She’d been assaulted not once, but twice in the past few months and didn’t want to chance it again. Cora knew she’d need some time to recover but shouldn’t shut herself off from the world.

“I know you don’t want to go out, but what if we went to see Chad and Brad at the cafe?”

Louisa shook her head. “Too many people.”

Rather than argue, Cora texted Chad and Brad (she had her own group text with them since the incident happened).

Cora: I’m trying to convince her to go outside, but she doesn’t want to leave her apartment.

Brad: I can’t blame her. She went through a lot.

Chad: Maybe she’d be up for coming to the cafe?

Cora: I suggested that, but she said no.

Chad: The cafe closes at 7 tonight. We could have our own little get together once the place is cleared out?

Brad: Or we could bring goodies to her place?

While Cora texted away, Louisa finally opened her laptop to find a message from her work.

Dear Ms. Ward,

While it is no consolation, we would like to apologize for the incident that occurred. The matter is being handled by our legal team and Mr. Price will be charged to the fullest extent of the law. Should you wish to press charges as well, I can give you their information. Any fees for doing so will be handled by us, especially as this should never have taken place.

We cannot begin to fathom how you are feeling and would like to extend our heartfelt sympathies. We understand you will need time to process and would like to extend to you a 6 week paid sabbatical and are willing to work with you should more time be needed. Your job, of course, will be held for you.

If you would like to work with a therapist, we would be happy to offer referrals and work with you regarding the costs of the visit.

With this ordeal, we understand you may not receive this email right away, but if you could let us know once you do, we would appreciate it.

Regards,

Trudy Porter, Human Resources

Conrad Corporation

Over the past 48 hours, she hadn’t even thought about her job, but it was obvious they cared. It was not the first time it’d been recommended she see a therapist and decided she would look into it. Before responding, though, she wanted to talk to Cora to get their opinions regarding pressing charges. Part of her wanted to, but another part of her never wanted to lay eyes on her (now) former boss ever again.

“Do you think I should press charges?”

Cora’s head popped up from her texting. “Yes, I do. Why do you ask?”

She let out a breath. “I received an email from work. They said they’re pressing charges against Mr. Price and offered to cover the costs if I wanted to press charges as well.”

“That’s amazing! I think you should.��

“But I don’t want to see him ever again.”

Cora moved over to her, placing her arm around her friend’s shoulder. “I can’t blame you for that, but you won’t go through this alone. I will be with you. So will Chad and Brad. And you and I both know Loki will support you however he can.”

She knew her friend was right. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to at least talk to the company lawyer, hear what they have to say.”

“I agree. What else did your work say?”

Louisa glanced back at the email. “They’re giving me a 6 week paid sabbatical and offered to help with therapy costs.”

“I think you should take them up on it. Even if you don’t, I still think you should go. I’m here for you, you know that. But a therapist will be able to better help you work mentally through everything.”

Louisa agreed and started drafting a response.

Dear Ms. Porter,

Thank you for reaching out. I very much appreciate it. You mentioned charges were being pressed against Mr. Price? I would like to talk to them about possibly pressing charges as well. They would know better than I how to do so.

Thank you for the 6 week sabbatical. I think I will follow your recommendation (and my friend’s) about seeing a therapist.

“Cor, I can’t really figure out how to respond to their email.”

Cora took the computer and reviewed what she’d written so far. “It’s a shitty situation. I don’t think you need to worry how the email is written, just that it’s responded to. What you have is perfectly fine.”

Can you send me some therapist recommendations?

By the time she wrapped up the email and sent it (which didn’t take long), she was a bit worn out mentally and layed down to rest for a bit. Cora couldn’t blame her one bit. In fact, she was truly impressed with how well her friend was doing with the events that occurred. Her chat was still going on with Brad and Chad.

Cora: She’s resting now. Her work sent her an email giving her a few weeks paid sabbatical.

Chad: That’s incredible!

Brad: I’m not sure how many companies would do that. Kudos to them.

Chad: Is there anything we can do?

Cora: I’m not sure tbh. I think she mostly needs space right now.

Chad: That’s understandable. Let her know we’re here if she needs anything.

Cora: I’ll let her know when she’s up.

Brad: If there’s anything you need as well, let us know. We’re here for both of you.

Chad: Yes, we definitely are.

Cora: You guys are too kind.

Cora: I know she wants to get a new couch for her living room.

Chad: Brad - Didn’t you mention the other day about one you saw that you really wanted?

Brad: I remember. You told me we didn’t need a new couch, and we couldn’t put one at the cafe.

Chad: That’s because it’d be too much to clean.

Brad: I know, I know. But from what we’ve seen of her apartment, I think it’d be perfect.

Cora: Really?

Brad: Definitely. I’ll call the place and arrange to pick it up.

Chad: Cora - let us know when it’s a good time to bring by?

Cora: You guys really don’t have to do that.

Chad and Brad: We want to.

Cora: You guys are the best! Let me know how much it is?

Chad: Don’t worry about it. This is on us.

Cora: You really don’t have to do that. I know they get expensive real fast.

Chad: Seriously. Don’t worry about it. It’ll make Brad happy to know it’s going to a friend and can sit on it occasionally.

Brad: They still have the couch and will put it on hold.

Chad: Cora could we bring it by tonight or tomorrow night?

Cora: I’d say probably tomorrow. Just responding to her work email took a lot out of her.

Chad: Not a problem.

Brad: No worries. I’ll let them know we’ll pick it up late tomorrow.

Chad: We can bring it after the cafe closes tomorrow.

Cora: That would be great!

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss @jaidenhawke

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