Better Days ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
You don’t know if it’s the comedown from the meds, your period, or one of your disorders making you feel this extreme sadness but you need this feeling to go away. It’s more annoying than anything. You’re not one to compare anyone’s pain but Levi’s been through an entire war in which he lost his eye, a couple of fingers, and his ability to walk. The war in your head is nothing compared to that. So what you do is you grit your teeth and just try to ride this almost debilitating wave of misery until it’s over.
Of course you’re silly to think that Levi wouldn’t be able to tell something’s wrong. He’s lost some things but he definitely hasn’t lost his perceptiveness.
“Oi…” His tone is soft as he places a hand on your thigh, taking you out of your thoughts. You realize he’s right in front of you and he’s wearing a small frown. When did he get here?
You blink rapidly, your surroundings slowly coming into focus. “Hey.” You reply, your tone also soft but there’s an underlying tiredness in your voice and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Levi.
“You okay?” He asks you, giving you the chance to open up and be honest, his eyes looking at you with concern.
You blink a few more times, still in a bit of a daze. “Yeah, I’m just-“
“Don’t do that.” He cuts you off gently. You know what those words mean. You know better than to lie to me. And you do know better. But you also don’t want to burden him.
You give him a tired smile and continue. “Really, Levi-“
“C’mere.” He cuts you off again with a pat to his thigh, beckoning you to sit on him.
“Your legs, Levi.” You remind him, worried your weight on him will put too much pressure on the lower half of his body.
“I don’t care.” He sighs before he grabs you by the waist, surprising you with his upper body strength despite you knowing that he continues to keep himself in shape, especially when it comes to his arms and core. He places you onto his lap and positions you so that you’re sitting bridal style on him in his wheelchair.
“Levi…” You whine, although you let out a slight chuckle as your arms find their home around his neck.
“Mm?” He looks down at you, his eyebrows raised as his arms encircle you.
You roll your eyes playfully as he feigns stupidity.
He gives you a small smirk before his expression softens, concern still present in his eyes. “Seriously, what is it?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he presses his forehead against yours.
You sigh yourself before your shoulders raise in a defeated shrug as you look back up at him. “I don’t know…I’m just sad.” You give him a glum smile.
And there’s the truth. It hurts him to know you’re feeling this way and there’s no way for him to realistically help. He wishes he can reach inside you and pull all of the negative feelings out. He would swallow them himself if he could. He can deal with sadness but it’s a struggle to watch you deal with it. So for now he tries to help as best as he can through his touch, holding you tight against his chest as he places kisses on your skin. He might not know what to say but he knows how to touch you to remind you of the promise he made to you before the war, of living through better days. You are his better days. They don’t exist without you. But more importantly, you deserve better days. You deserve the laughter, the hugs, and the happy tears. Better days are coming, but they’re also here. And Levi’s willing to go through hell and back to make sure you stay for them.
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I just think Tallulah gets to be upset about this. “It’s not Wilbur’s fault” “He’s not a bad dad” “He loves his daughter so much” yes! These are all true! And it’s not his fault! But he’s still not there. And Tallulah has gone through so much and still hasn’t seen him, the one time he was around was the one time she wasn’t, and all she has are letters and “I’m thinking of you always” and things that used to be theirs together, but he’s still not there. She’s waited and she’s been patient and she’s loved him all the same, and he’s still not there. Like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, from the happy milestones to the traumatic events, he’s still not there.
She knows that it’s not his fault, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s absent. That in and of itself just adds to the sorrow, because she knows why he’s gone, and she’s been told time and time again it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, she knows this - it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting, that it doesn’t hurt, that she doesn’t yearn for her father to be there more than anything in the world, and he��s just not there.
So yes, she gets to be upset, and be caustic, and stomp her feet and write bitter messages, and be angry and vitriolic, because she’s a little girl missing her father, who feels things with her whole heart and soul - and that means she gets to feel the ugly parts of it, too.
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09 soapghost au, ghost was a member of soap’s unit before roba and they were together until he was taken. when he comes back and takes up the ghost mantle, simon riley is declared KIA and the hope that soap had let kindle in his heart that he’d come back to him dies. he throws himself into training, into becoming captain so he won’t let down another soldier the way he let simon down
then he recruits ghost to the 141 and ghost sees how much he’s changed, how much harder he is; slow to smile, never relaxing and he realises how much he fucked up by never reaching out. he’d thought he’d be better off without him, without the shell of the man he used to love but he’d done nothing but hurt him
after the close call with shepherd, soap wants to get right back into it, wants to hunt makarov down for almost getting his sergeant and lieutenant killed and ghost is yelling at him to just take it easy and heal first when soap snaps back, “i can’t lose anyone else! not again!” and ghost just rips his balaclava off, showing his face for the first time in years…
and soap says nothing. he just looks at him, completely unreadable. ghost clenches the balaclava in his hand, waiting for anything; even injured, soap can still pack a mean punch and he’s waiting for it, almost hoping for it… but he still does nothing. just stares
“well? c’mon!” he growls, stalking in closer. “let me have it! tell me how pissed you are! that i left you alone! that i ruined you the moment i touched you! that you regret ever fucking looking at me! scream, shout, say something!” until he’s leaning over soap’s chair, chest heaving
soap’s hand lifts and ghost can’t help his flinch before planting himself, ready to be struck, longing for it, to be punished the way he punishes himself-
soap’s hand gently cups his cheek and he freezes, breath catching as his thumb caresses the snake bite scars on his lip; feather-light and reverent. just like he used to
“you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you”
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I think why Endhawks is so cathartic for me is that you have two people who have been through a bunch of trauma and made fucked up choices because of it and are both terrified that deep down that they aren’t worthy of love, that they’ll end up alone, that they are inherently bad.
And they are trying, trying so hard to change, to be good, to be lovable.
And they accept each other so easily. Like yes I see you. I see you trying so hard. You’re not hard to love at all. You are a good person at heart and that’s why you try so hard. I won’t flinch away at the hard, sharp edges of you because mine fit together with yours.
And it hits me right in my trauma core.
I just love them. Anyway…
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