#in like. any extra supplies or soldiers or anything

[nejackdaw]

morthal and markarth for the skyrim asks!

Ty for the ask! 💞

Morthal - Do you enjoy exploring dungeons and ruins? Why or why not?

Kinda depends tbh. Dungeons with multiple rooms absolutely FULL of enemies encourage a more stealthy approach, and while I'm a capable stealth archer, it's not my preferred play style, so it can be a bit unfun. The alternative, however, is the ENTIRE DUNGEON hearing me engage in melee and swarming me at once, which. Also isn't fun. Ultimately I guess the answer comes down to "depends on the number of guys in there" and "how likely is Marked For Death to solve the entire issue?" Skyrim is basically the only game where, when given a choice, I'll choose martial over caster or archer, but this can be a problem in packed dungeons. I like single or few guy brutal slugfests where we just beat the shit out of each other. Also then I can just take a break to throw up my shield and watch Celann materialize to OHKO them, which fills me with glee literally every time

Markarth - If you could rewrite one questline in Skyrim, which would it be? (This answer is sooooo long btw)

Hmm... I'm actually not too interested in a lot of them, but when it comes to being disappointed in one, it's the Civil War questline. The entire thing amounts to "use your main character powers about 5 times in a dungeon or something and then go fight the oppositional leader." You can't even fix Whiterun, a place you specifically took for its geographical, strategic, and mercantile advantage. You just leave it in ruins???

There are two quests in the entire line that aren't just "awkwardly storm this place with a couple guys,' and one of them is optional. Both sides have a "steal/plant enemy orders" quest, but the "gaining intel/blackmail" quest is in both cases entirely optional. There's one non-combative "sneak and find this document/gather intel" quest, and no "root out a traitor" or "disrupt a supply line" type quests (technically this one is awkwardly tacked onto the end of the optional quest.) The Dark Brotherhood, Dawnguard, and Thieves Guilds have similar respective quests that we can compare to the 1.5 non-combative Civil War quests: finding intel on Maro's son, the radiant "vampire advisor" quests, basically the entire beginning TG questline (Honningbrew, Goldenglow hives.)

Each of these questlines involve non-typical quests, aka quests where you have to approach it a little differently than the rest of your work: the Brotherhood stealing documents and planting false evidence like thieves, the Dawnguard committing assassinations and pickpocketing orders like both the Brotherhood AND the Guild, the Guild quest where you engage not only in open combat with Mercer, but kill him, like both the Dawnguard and, well, the Brotherhood Brynjolf insists you're not.

While those questlines are largely the same sort of quests on repeat, it's because they're, well, specialized guilds. Built entirely around doing those things. That's their entire function. When it comes to a war (which is very NOT a guild,) you'd expect a bit more than just a few skirmishes, especially considering the only thing that changes when you join is, well. There's one more guy in the skirmish. But magically this turns the tide and the entire war is won through brute force when previously there seemed no end in sight. The questline lacks variety, is incredibly, oddly short for what's supposed to be a war, and generally just... lacks impact. Nothing really happens afterwards. Faction camps are still sitting around, and you still can't even clear them. Hold guards are replaced by the faction that won and Whiterun is permanently in shambles. Can't even fix Whiterun ffs there's not even quests for that.

* After leaving this in the drafts for a few weeks and thinking about it some more, I think ultimately the problem IS the brevity. "Do four battles and suddenly we win" is absolutely insane. The Dawnguard DLC and the Thieves Guild, even the one single time I played it, have spoiled me rotten with the never ending radiant quests. It prevents the Companions feeling of "I joined three days ago and now I'm in charge and everyone does what I say" that throws everyone off. Not only can you keep accepting them, the mainline quests don't get in the way of accepting them (... like the Companions only telling you to go talk to Aela.) This means you can keep accepting radiant quests that provide a feeling of integration and contribution (in)to the guild, and also avoids the Companions and Civil War feeling of "I did three quests and it's over and everyone is bowing to me" by allowing you to do guild things in-between the main quests.

Not only that, but they offer a variety the main line might not provide, especially with the Dawnguard. For example, siding with the Volkihar includes a quest where you're given Dawnguard armor and told to go cause a scene, striking down some innocent civilian in the name of "vampire hunting" to sow public distrust. This quest is cool as fuck conceptually btw, why is a Volkihar radiant cooler than the entire CW line???

Ultimately I think if I could change one thing about the Civil War line specifically it would be adding TG/DG style radiant quests that can be done between main missions and also include "milestone" type quests that really bring home the feeling of growth and contribution. I think it would make it feel considerably less jarring and I'd even maybe consider playing it again if we could fix Whiterun.

[lunatic-pudge]

TF2 Mercs Green Flags (except it's very biased)

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I love my boys. Yes, this is biased and questionable. But this is meant to be cute and fun.

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Scout:

-Silly little goober, great person to be around when you need cheering up

-Golden retreiver boyfriend

-Can easily make you laugh without even trying

-Artsy fartsy

Pyro

-Cutie patootie who makes the cutest drawings of you two together

-Owns an Easy Bake Oven

-Master at baking, never-ending supply of sweets for you to indulge in

-Your biggest supporter. Would literally cheer for you if you rob a bank

Soldier

-Also your biggest supporter, will demand that other adore you as well

-Will let you own any pet you want no matter what the animal is

-Speeches of why you're the best thing to ever exist and how America is blessed to have such a beauty like you live there

-Will give you anything and everything you could ever want, like human ears. Definitely a good person to be if you like collecting weird stuff

Demo

-Precious baby boy is a major cuddle bug

-Def knows how to knit/crochet, will make you whatever you want

-Baby man likes learning about folklore/mythology

-He's essentially a big walking teddy bear. Perfect for cuddles, especially on a cold or rainy day

Heavy

-GIANT WALKING TEDDY BEAR

-Protective baby boy, big scary dog privleges

-Bookworm, can recommend a good book if you don't know what to read

-Perfect person to lay around and cuddle with, he can smother me any day. Dates at home are TOP TIER

Engie

-THE BEST PERSON TO GO TO WHEN YOU'RE HAVING AN OFF DAY HANDS DOWN

-Smart boy, can make you stuff that helps with day to day activities which is helpful if you can't do certain things to having a disability or something

-Dad bod, dad bod, dad bod, dad bod, dad bod, can't get enough of it

-Voice of an angel, will sing for you if you'd like. Can def sing you to sleep

Medic

-NERD, he's an adorable nerd! Let him ramble about his hyperfixations!

-Def a good pet owner, would kill someone if they don't take proper care of their pets

-Would make sure you take care of yourself, he's kinda like a dad that cares

-He's such a maniac. I can see him just secretly being up to no good all the time. And he's also very girlypop

-Putting an extra for him cause I can: Medic boobs. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

Sniper

-Sweet, precious baby boy who can do no wrong. He strikes me as someone who listens to EVERYTHING when it comes to music. He ain't genrephobic

-Also a collector of weird things. Likes making bone jewlery. Bone boy

-I just love the concept of him being feral? This is probably the weirdest thing on the list. Like there's the golden retreiver boyfriend (Scout), and then there's the feral boyfriend (Sniper). Literally acts like a cat, hiding away from people, hissing when people that aren't you tries to touch him, will demand attention/affection from you, ect. I need to make a more detailed idea of a feral boyfriend so work with me plz

-He would absolutely let you wear his clothes, thinking about how adorable you look. He'd do the same with your clothes if they're big enough for his lanky body. You two swap jackets in the winter time so you guys always have a piece of each other when you two are busy and aren't able to see each other

Spy

-I know a running joke is that Spy is a smelly French asshole, but I really do think that he wears some of the nicest smelling cologne out there. Expensive af colonge, but damn, it's addicting

-Smarty pants. Not just anyone can be a spy, it takes quite a bit of intellect for it. And not to mentions he knows multiple languages? Love it, even if I hate the French language with a burning passion

-Him having a good taste in fashion? He's gotta know what he's doing by wearing suits all the time. Not only does he look fresh af, but people always look so good in a suit, especially when it fits them. But please also picture him dressed in a more romantic goth aesthetic plz, okay I'll stop now

-Is good at paying attention to even the littlest of details about his partners. Even if you're trying to be cryptic or subtle about things, he'll always find out. He's def a protective type too

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine Abby confessing her love for you

You knew you were goner the first time you laid eyes on Abby Anderson. She was tough, guarded, emotionless, and serious about completing the task. Whatever it was Isaac put her charge of no matter the objective that was always her main focus. Despite her tough exterior and her knack for pushing people away whenever they tried to befriend her. Almost like it was her secret superpower or something.

You managed to worm your way into her heart with the resilience of a bear trying to protect its cubs, and the patience of a scorpion waiting for its poison to spread before moving in for the kill on its prey. If someone asked Abby how you were the one who got through to her first.

She didn't have an honest answer for them herself for she never understood how you did what you did. All she knew was once she let you in. There was no getting rid of you even if she wanted to. Abby found herself relying on someone else to keep her. Other than the need for revenge going for the first time since her dad's death. She'd do anything for you. There was nothing in the world you couldn't ask her to do that wouldn't be an automatic yes.

Unless of course you asked to be honest about her feelings for you. Because the second the two of you returned from scouting the outpost. You cornered her in the locker rooms knowing she would be in there to take a nice long, and hot shower. It was pretty late so no one else was present. You figured that would make it slightly easier to coax the truth out of her. Instead Abby gave you the run around insisting that yes while you were an important person in her life, and she indeed love you (like a friend) making sure to put an extra emphasis on the word friend. She wasn't harboring any feelings for you, or anyone else.

Abby then went on to make some stupid joke about her last relationship, and just how incompatible she was with anyone. You weren't buying it for one second, but nonetheless you still let it go. Knowing better than anyone if you pushed her too hard she'd shut down for a while.

But apparently that one push was enough because the next day Isaac asked you to report to him. He proceeded to tell you that for the next month or so. He was reassigning you to strictly supply runs only, and if you weren't need there. You were to report for dog duty every morning which included in helping training the dogs, cleaning up their kennels, and grooming them. No more field missions for you with reason being you showed reckless behavior on your last mission. That could've resulted in the death of either you, or you and your team.

"You got potential to be one of my best soldiers in the future y/n. I'll be damned if I lose you in the field because you want to be a show-off playing hero." Isaac scolded you with a grunt placing Abby's mission report on his desk.

Arguing with him wasn't going to change a thing. You might've been with the WLF longer, but Abby had way more experience in the field. Her history with the Fireflies and dedication to training moved her up the ranks faster than any other solider. She hardly ever went on a mission where she actually had to answer to someone else. So whatever she told Isaac was final.

The role change took place nearly two weeks ago, and you still hadn't adjusted in the change of pace. Plus the lack of action not to mention despite how pissed off you were with her. You missed Abby Anderson terribly. The two of you only saw each other in passing, and each time Abby avoided eye contact. Right now the supply run you were on took you a few miles away from main base. Abby had just returned from a pretty nasty confrontation with the Scars, and was resting up in the infirmary. You wouldn't be surprised if she had something to do with you being sent on a four-day run.

"Ahhh I don't see how these guys do this all day." You complained pushing the door to the lobby of the abandoned hotel open with your back. The room covered from top to bottom with containers filled with any items that were preserved and still of good use. With a grunt you heaved the large box in your arms up to stack it on top of more boxes. The pile held up not swaying the slightest bit.

You let out a sigh of relief leaning back on a heavier and stronger stack of containers. The person in charge would've made you clean it up alone if it fell. "This is literally the definition of grunt work."

"Wow its good to know how you really feel about us, and our contribution to the WLF's survival." A familiar voice chimed in only a few feet away.

You let out a surprise yelp looking up to see Nora positioned right in front of you. Her arms crossed over her chest, a single eyebrow quirked upward with a playful smile on her face. "How long have you been there?"

"Considering I'm in charge of taking inventory all day. What's in the box you brought in?" She asked her tone becoming a bit more strict for the moment.

"A bunch random clothes" You told her unsure of why it was important.

"They actually go over there." She pointed to the far left side of the lobby chuckling. At the way you groaned pushing off the containers. "Calm down I'll have some of the guys move it later."

You relaxed again shooting her a fake angry smile.

"So what did you do to get on Isaac's bad side. The only time he puts field operatives on supply runs is when we're navigating dangerous territory. And the only time he turns you guys into suppliers is when he wants to punish you." Isaac knew the change in pace of the work drew field operatives crazy.

"Its more like what I did to piss off Abby." You said unable to hide the irritation in your voice.

Nora's eyes widened a bit at your answer before her face scrunched up in confusion. "But you and Abby are like this" she stated holding up a hand with one finger crossed over the other.

"Yeah we were until I tried to make confess her feelings for me" You told her with a shrug. If Abby was going to lie about it why should you keep it a secret.

"Oh no you gotta start from the beginning girl" Nora demanded shaking her head. Not giving you a chance to protest she hoisted herself up onto a container adjacent to you.

You chuckled at her eagerness to hear some gossip, but knew nothing more exciting was going to happen. So you would indulge in it this once even though it was never your thing. Plus Nora and Abby were close enough the girl was in the inner circle. No easy feat to accomplish with Abby.

"We went on a scouting mission a few weeks ago, and got ambushed by a herd of infected. Abby got cornered and ran out of bullets, so I came to her rescue doing something that was kinda stupid." You admitted a bit guilty knowing Abby wasn't completely lying about the reckless behavior thing. "But it worked and I saved her life only I guess she thought I died in the process. Abby started freaking out and when after I reassured her I was fine. She went on to say I couldn't do stuff like because she cared about me too much, and stopped short of dropping the "L" word."

Nora held onto every single word that left your mouth following the story with genuine interest. When you to the end immediately she shook her head hoping down from her seat. "Nope we can't have this I'm going to help you get your girl."

Your eyes lit up with curiosity. "How?

"Oh don't worry I'll think of something" she replied already rubbing her chin.

You still wanted more insight which led to your next question. "Why?"

Nora turned back around and walked over to rest both of her hands on either of your shoulders. "Because you're my girl and Abby is my girl I want both of you to be happy. Plus I've been rooting for y'all since day one when the two of you met."

"And" you pressed her further sensing an ulterior motive.

"I got a running bet with Owen, Manny, and Mel about when the two of you are going to finally get together." she finally admitted with a sheepish smile. "Don't be mad."

I'm not but Mel." You laughed a little bit thrown back by the timid doctor being in on it.

"I betted it would be sooner than later, but Mel thought the opposite while Owen and Manny opted for it being never."

You wanted to disappointed in Owen but with the way Abby reacted to everything that happened. It made sense and Manny was her roommate, so he probably did have some type of insight on her unknown to you.

"So what do you get if you win? Money isn't exactly worth anything."

Nora just gave you a quick wink and motioned for you to follow her.

Three Days Later

Isaac didn't have any more assignments for suppliers, and your assistance with the dogs wasn't required. So you readied yourself to enjoy a rare free day or two, but a solider came banging on your door the morning. After you had just returned from your supply run with Nora to let you know the man wanted to see you in his office.

You dragged yourself out of bed with a sleepy groan cursing the entire world. What could Isaac possibly want now? He literally told you last night today was yours. A five minute shower and ten minutes spent going through your closest trying to determine what to wear, and a quick stop to the mess hall for breakfast. You finally arrived at his door giving it a gentle knock.

"Its y/n"

"Come in" replied his gruff voice.

You opened the door to the sight of Isaac sitting behind his desk with his hands folded together in resting atop it. Abby sat in chair on the right side with both of knees maintaining a steady bouncing pace. The second your foot stepped into the office she launched to her feet. Already red in the face jabbing a anger finger at you.

"What is she doing here?"

"Sit back down Abby" Isaac commanded rather than answer her question.

"But-" she started to protest until he fixed her with his steely gaze, and she finally listened. Plopping back down into the chair propping her elbow up on the arm, and placing her chin in her awaiting hand. Abby grumbled complaints under her breath while you took the chair beside her holding back an amused smile.

"Owen and Manny are both out of commission for the next few days, and you need a partner for your scouting mission today." Isaac said laying both of his hands flat on the desk.

"Are they okay?" You asked a bit concerned.

He nodded. "Mel said it was some type of stomach bug possibly caused by. A bad batch of fish from last night's dinner, but we're keeping them in a restricted area to be sure."

Your mind wandered back to your conservation with Nora just a day ago, and you knew without a doubt this was her doing. You fought off the urge to grin again.

"I don't need a partner Isaac I can handle this by myself." Abby argued throwing you a side glance trying to hide the guilt in them.

"After what happened on your last mission I won't risk it. The infected could be anywhere in this point, and you never know when a horde is going to show up. Plus those Scars are getting more bolder with each attack. Y/N compliments your skillset nicely, and has enough experience."

"But she's reckless-"

"And I trust you to maintain control over this mission, and put her in place if the need arises. Are you telling me you can't handle it?" Isaac narrowed his eyes at Abby almost daring her to continue questioning his decision.

"No sir I can handle it" Abby answered dropping her head with a look of despair.

The scouting mission was a simple one. Located about three miles from the main WLF base was a small cabin near a set of watchtowers. A group of soldiers stumbled upon it on they're way back, but didn't feel comfortable scoping it out. They were injured, malnourished, and sleep deprived after spending days hiding out in Scar infested territory trying not to be discovered.

It was close enough to base Isaac was sure none of the Scars were stupid enough to get this close. And if there were a few hanging out about you and Abby were more than capable of taking them out. He did order to bring one back for interrogation if the two of you found any.

The cabin was located in wooded area where the trees grew too great heights, and the bushes were dense. Abby walked ahead of you hacking any blocking vegetation away with her machete. She did it in such an aggressive way you were pretty sure this was her stress reliever. Anything would do rather than actually getting it off her chest through conservation. You followed behind her maintaining a comfortable distance. It went like this a solid hour or so into the trail before finally you couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Are you going to ignore me the whole time Abby?" You asked her.

"That depends what do you want to talk about?" she shot back not even bothering to pause to look back at you.

"I don't know how about the fact you lied to Isaac and got me put on supply duty."

Now she stopped whirling around to face you her face shrouded in disbelief at your words. "I didn't lie your actions were reckless on that mission." She raised the machete pointing at you, but then realized it and slid into the waistband of her pants.

"Yeah but that's not why you reported me is it? You accused closing the distance between you two.

"Why else would I report you y/n?"

If she was going to continue to play dumb then you were happy to bring up the elephant in the room again. "To get me away from you for a few days, so you could bury those feelings so deep inside of you again. You'd forget they were ever even there."

A red tint coated her cheeks as her eyes averted the contact from yours now. Instead she turned her gaze to the ground below swallowing a lump in her throat. "We should keep moving."

Not bothering to wait for your reply Abby turned back around and continued on the path to the cabin. You let out a sigh of exasperation running a hand down your face. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy to make her confess. You were going to play the danger card again.

The opportunity to do it without putting your life in any real danger presented itself. A whole hour later after the two of you finished hiking your way through all the deep bush. The trail cleared up a bit more till eventually one of the watchtowers came into view, and the closer you two got to it. The more realized getting to the cabin wasn't going to be easy as the group made it out to be.

The sound of rushing water filled the air when you and Abby got within ten feet of the tower. And the source of noise revealed itself once you reached the tower to it sitting on the edge of a ravine. Abby extended her arm out in front you. When both of you reached the edge of the grassy terrain that led down into a wide and deep ditch. That was filled up with water probably from the few storms to hit the area in the past few days.

You leaned over to try and determine just how deep it went wondering. If it was possible to walk across, but the bottom wasn't visible. The current was too strong to just outright risk it, and you didn't see a bridge or anything that could be used as one.

"We gotta find another way across" Abby said coming to the same conclusion. "Let's keep following the path farther down maybe the water level gets lower." She pulled out the map to look over for a possible better destination, so caught up with it. Abby missed the way your eyes lit with mischief when you looked upward. The two watchtowers were connected to one other by a decent size beam.

By the time Abby finished going over the map you were taking your first step onto the beam.

"Alright there actually might be a road..." Her voice trailed off when she discovered you were no longer beside or in front of her.

"Y/N" she called out your name her head swiveling in every direction in frantic search for you. Had the Scars managed to ambush and nab you with her so close? The thought terrified her so much she was five seconds away from working herself into hyperventilating just like last time. "Y/N" Abby cried out desperately again.

"Up here Abbs calm down" you shouted from your position standing on top of the beam. About thirty feet up in the air balancing on the metal surface with ease.

She followed the sound of your voice, and sighed with relief at the sight you. Bracing a hand to her chest she calmed her panicked breathing. It took a minute to get it back to normal then she glared up at you. "What the hell are you doing up there? Come down now."

"No we can cross this way" You argued with a tiny smirk.

"Y/N I'm not playing with you get down from there" Abby ordered again. Her voice more firm this time but you saw how nervous she was getting.

"But this is so much faster than walking like another three miles for a road that might destroyed. Plus that's farther than Isaac wanted us to go." You pointed out.

"I don't care I'm in charge and I said no. Now. Get. Down. Here." Abby pointed at you then the ground on her last two words.

"Fine I'll come down" You agreed. "But first I want to hear you say it." You added it as she relaxed again.

Your request made her quirked an eyebrow. "Say what?"

You shook your head. "No more games Abby finish what you were going to say to me. On our last mission before you stopped yourself I won't come down till you do."

Abby grabbed two fistfuls of her hair holding back a frustrated scream. It was a miracle she didn't unravel the braid. "Oh for crying out loud y/n let it go. I wasn't going to say anything besides what I actually said." Now please get down here before you fall and drown or something." Abby pleaded with wide and desperate eyes.

You dropped into a crouch swaying a bit but righting yourself immediately. A small cry exited Abby's mouths as she followed your every move in fear. "What would you do if I fell in? Would you try to save me?" You asked her softly.

"I'd do anything for you" she whispered so low you barely heard her. "Because we're friends and that's what friends do for each other." It was half a lie, and both of you knew it. You were too close to give up now. So you added more pressure by standing upright and turning to walk further away to the middle of the beam. "I thought it was because I was one of the best."

"You are y/n but you're my friend too. I'm sorry for the way I've been acting for the past couple of weeks. Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm sorry okay."

Close but not close enough.

"What exactly am I the best at Abby?"

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What?" she replied.

"You said I was one of the best but at what. It can't be fighting because that title goes to you easily. I mean not even our toughest guys can take you in a sparring match." You brought up your hand placing one finger down. "I know its not sharpshooting I mean I got I'm one hell of a shot, but so is Owen." Another finger brought down as you focused you on Abby again.

She dropped her head staring at the ground with her fists clenched at her sides. Her entire body was trembling with anger, or maybe the overwhelming emotion she kept trying to suppress.

"I guess it could be tracking I am really good at that" You said pausing.

"You're the best tracker we got, and I know that for a fact I'd be dead. If it wasn't for your tracking skills back when we got trapped in that cave during the blizzard." Abby said loud enough for you to hear her.

The memory came back to you in an instant. Almost two years ago the two of you had to seek refuge in a random cave while patrolling the area of a nearby hotel. The suppliers were searching it top to bottom for any resources. Back then the harsh winters had depleted many of your medical supplies, and other items. The area had an infected problem, so a small team of soldiers went along for protection.

You and Abby ended up wandering a little too far while following a stray runner to a small nest. No more than ten of them which was easy enough as long as you used stealth rather than bullets. Then the storm picked up making it all but imposing to find the way back. You were a survivalist before joining up with the WLF. Your father raised you in the wilderness teaching you every skill you would need to conquer it. When the world fell apart you were a little more than ready, and you put all that knowledge to use in an effort to keep yourself and Abby alive.

"I never seen someone fight so hard to live in a world that's just easier to die in." Abby went on looking up at you now. "It wouldn't have been fast but better than being tuned right? I was ready to accept defeat but you were there going out in storm risking your life for mine. Each time returning with food, or wood for the fire. You built a wooden door to keep out some of the cold, and no matter how bad things got during those five days. You never lost hope, or that cheerful attitude of yours."

The fear in her eyes dissolved to be replaced with adoration and the look warmed your entire body. "You never run out of it you know. It doesn't matter how bleak the situation is. And before I met you y/n I lost all that after my dad died. I lost all hope for a better world I didn't believe there was a single thing worth fighting for anymore. Owen was the only reason I kept going, but we fell apart so it wasn't the same. Then you made me see again just how beautiful the world can be. Because if my love for you isn't the most beautiful feeling I don't know what is. There I said it I fucking love you alright, and my biggest fear in this world is losing the person I love the most again. So please come down."

The speech that led to her confession caught you off guard hitting you like a ton of bricks. Her words tugged on all your heartstrings till they came loose, and tears of happiness clouded your vision. "Damn it Abby I love you would've done just fine." You said with a teary chuckle wiping your eyes on your shirt. One of your feet lost its footing and you stumbled before finding the beam again.

"Y/N come on" Abby shouted holding out her arms as if she could catch you. If you did indeed fall from that angle. "I want kiss you so hurry up alright."

The statement made you perk up a bit as the mischief came back sparkling in your eyes. "I don't know you made me work for that confession. You should have to work for our first kiss."

Her expression darkened but she smirked daring you to try her. "Y/N don't do this."

You smirked back while walking across the rest of the beam holding her eyes for the entire duration. She watched you disappear into the other tower in amusement and slight annoyance. Not wasting another second Abby bounded to the tower and climbed the ladder as fast as she could. Slowing down at the beam to take a deep breath, and doing her best not to look down. She took the first step placing one foot in front of another. Till she reached the other end your playful laughter filling her ears as you slid down the ladder. After making sure she made it across without falling, and you hit the ground running straight for the cabin.

Abby went down the ladder halfway before taking a huge leap. She didn't bother stopping to right herself giving chase almost immediately. Even with your head she started catching up to you in just a matter of seconds.

"Abby I get the bonus points for helping you face your fear right." You called out pushing your legs to go faster.

"Not a chance" Abby yelled back matching your pace.

Her arms wrapped around your waist from behind and you were yanked backwards off your feet. You let out a shriek of laughter when her fingers dug into your sides. "Abbs no" You laughed trying to break free of her grip.

Abby secured your back to her chest with a single muscular arm while her other hand continued to wreck havoc. She tickled you into you were breathless and in tears, and before you had recover. Abby turned you around in arms and pressed her lips to yours. Any breath you managed to get back into your lungs vanished again. As your eyes closed and your body melted in her arms. Lucky for you Abby kept you upright with her arms constricted around your middle.

You had dreamed of this moment more than a hundred times. Each time wondering if the real thing would live up to your fantasy. Of course the real Abby surpassed all expectations, and your questions of rather or not she knew how to kiss went out the window. Her lips moved slowly against yours in such a way. It was like she was guiding on exactly what to do, and you followed her lead eventually your hands found their place in her hair. You tugged her a bit closer and she moaned into your mouth pulling away for a fraction of a second. Before deepening the kiss swinging your body around to push you up against a tree.

The bark bit into your skin but the only thing you could focus on right then was. How your body lit up with a want no a need for Abby. It wasn't enough your toes were curling from the passion she kissed you with. You shoved against her shoulder, and Abby pulled away immediately eyes filled with concern. "Did I hurt you?"

"No but the cabin."

She scoffed. "We got plenty of time."

You flicked her forehead causing her to yelp in pain and pull back again. "What?" she whimpered eyes zeroing in on your swollen lips.

"I bet its a lot more comfortable in there way more appropriate for making out" You told her.

"That would be inappropriate behavior" Abby started nuzzling your neck. Her lips drifted to your ear "good thing I'm in charge huh." You squealed in surprise as she lifted you in arms bridal style, and began to carry you to the cabin.

Where the two of you would stay for a few more days, and long nights. Consequences be damned this time.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 5: Man Of The Hour

Life is mildly less sucky with depression being more managed (also the mood boost from Renaissance Faires 😁) and my weekends being free again for me to travel to see my person. Still full of dumpster fires but I want to scream about it less. Also, been in feels very similar to the ones that inspired this whole endeavor so... enjoy?

Anywho, here's part 5! Enjoy, my little nerdlings. As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags, reblogs and/or ask box. If you see any mistakes feel free to message me about them. 😬👌

Part 1: Hop Fucks Up, Part 2: Pride and Prejudices (Joyce Edition), Part 3: One of Us, Part 4.1: With A Capital P, Part 4.2: Robin's Boy

Steve Harrington was an odd duck. That's what his grandmother always used to say. She would pat his already proudly coiffed hair as he hung off the arm of her rocking chair and tell him as much whenever his parents took him to visit. He would beam at her with his big (reportedly pinchable by every aunt and grandmother in the family) cheeks and quack at her before cracking up at himself like he told the funniest joke and she would let him laugh until he rolled himself off her armchair to the plush carpeted floor. She would laugh and reach way over the arm of her chair to poke his stomach or cheek or nose, sometimes just his little forehead, before leveraging herself up out of her chair and taking herself to the kitchen to boot his mother out of it. Steve Harrington was a certified 'odd duck'.

Steve isn't sure, as he sits in that old rocking chair he had stolen liberated from his parent's house when he moved into his new apartment, when he became whatever he is now. He slowly rocks himself back and forth, the chair creaking a little as his weight shifts. The kids and other teens are chattering on the walkie but it's nothing too pressing, just nonsense and junk food emergencies, Mike cursing out Hop. His ribs hurt and his nose is sore but it doesn't feel like anything is broken. It sucks he knows what broken feels like. It sucks that Robin is kind of mad at him for getting hurt enough Owens pulled rank and had him dropped off at home and assigned someone to be the Party's chauffer for the rest of the day. It sucks that all the kids have their own plans tonight, leaving him to try and find ways to keep himself distracted without their usual insanity. A lot of things just kind of suck these days.

He feels himself smiling and picks up the walkie to confirm that he was alive and resting like ordered when he hears Dustin bickering with Robin about invading his apartment to check on him. That doesn't suck he supposes. He knows Robin and the kids care and he knows that eventually the soldier tasked with driving his hellions around is going to be bullied into driving them to see him, other plans be damned and the thought makes him smile.

The smile drops when he hears what sounds like a soft knock at his door. It's too sharp to be Widow Bea two doors over who leans on her walker and kicks the bottom of his door with her soft leather slippers that belonged to her late husband when she needs him to fix a cabinet or mix batter for whatever pastry she was making that week. And it's not the distinct pattern of Clara Damon from down the hall who will come and tap at his door to ask if he has an extra cup of sugar or spoonful of flour as she bats her eyes at him simpering about how she's making cookies or a pie or a casserole of some kind and inviting him to dinner with her and her folks to have some. He's always got an empty pantry and a surplus of plans when Clara Damon comes knocking. He and Widow Bea have standing poker nights with the other older ladies who all meet at the recreation building.

(It used to be the Harrington house. But his parents decided to sell to prove a point when they up and kicked him out and Owens needed a place to set up a promised recreation space and the gym was already a relief supplies warehouse.)

But the knock at his door isn't either of those. It could be someone else in the building. Could be one of his neighbors who have started to associate Steve Harrington with fighting mutated wild dogs caused by government experiments gone wrong and hauling around kids who seemed to cheat death and holding I.O.Us signed by the U.S army instead of the absent Harrington socialites who are known for swanning into town, flaunting their wealth and making themselves scarce again. The ones who he can sometimes hear whispering about him as he makes his way down the street or through Melvald's.

The knocking comes again, louder this time and firmer. It could be a lot of things and he doesn't want to deal with any of them.

Steve sighs, it could be important. He gets up to answer the door, breathing slow and shallow and letting himself lean on walls as he makes his way to the door. A third round of knocking and he's starting to get tired of it. He takes a slightly painful breathe to call out to whoever is trying to knock down his door to calm themselves down when, "Hey kid, Harrington, you in there?" That stops him a foot from his door.

His ribs hurt and his nose is sore and his leg is throbbing where a demodog got a lucky swipe on the meat of his thigh. But nothing is broken. His leg will be fine in a day or two. He hates that he knows what broken feels like. He hates that he knows what infected feels like. He hates that he knows the stone in his stomach and the clenching vice around his lungs has nothing to do with his injuries. His ribs scream at him when he pulls himself as tall and straight backed as he can, shifting himself so his weight is on his good leg and he can (hopefully) use the hallway wall and doorframe to support himself long enough to talk to Hopper and send him on his way.

He opens the door with a smile and feels himself falter a little when he sees Hopper standing there in a big tan canvas jacket and baseball cap and he's reminded of the times the older man would show up on his parent's doorstep with the same look on his face asking questions Steve didn't always know how to answer.

"Hey, Hopper." His voice is light and smile wide and loose and he just needs to keep this up. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Heard you got a bit banged up on a patrol?"

Steve shrugs. It takes more than he'd like to hide the pain that causes. "Just a couple bumps and bruises, nothing I can't walk off after a decent night's sleep. Owens is just paranoid these days, ya know."

"Owens huh?"

"Uh, yeah? That's who told you right? Cause I took a couple hits?" Hopper doesn't say anything, just looks at him with something that Steve might have once thought was concern about his potential injuries. He doesn't know why today of all days Hop decided to show up cause he got knocked around a little more than planned but it doesn't bode well when something in his face shifts and he lets out a tired sigh. "Oh, but don't worry!" That came out louder than he intended. "I'm totally fine. Like I said, I just need to walk it off and I'll be back out there in no time. You don't gotta worry about a thing, I've got it handled. Like I said, Owens is just overreacting. Nancy can cover for me tomorrow and then I'll be right back on the roster I promise. You and Mrs. Byers don't have to worry about a thi-"

"Steve. Shut up." He feels his jaw snap shut, the edge of his tongue and inside of his cheek getting caught in his teeth. "I didn't hear it from Owens. The kids told me. Owens knows you're hurt?"

"Uh, ye-yes sir. He's the one who sent me home. Gave the kids a detail to transport them and keep them protected while I'm out of commision. One officer to drive them around and they're being tailed by at least 3 others in case anything happens."

"Four soldiers just to replace you?"

"Oh they're not in that much danger! I'm perfectly capable of watching them usually, its just that Owen's guys are still kinda green even this deep in. Most of them just can't wrap their heads around the whole 'other dimension stuck in 1983' side of things." Hop's eyebrows shoot up under the bill of his cap. "But again, it's fine! I always take point whenever we go into a new sector and those guys are good as backup at least."

"But you're hurt." His eyebrows have come back down but now they're furrowed like he's confused or upset.

"Just a little!" He is not making things better. "I swear Hopper, you guys don't have to worry about a thing. I've got it handled, you don't have to-"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington! Just shut up!" Steve flinches back, stepping further into his doorway as Hopper yells. The older man sighs, a big hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He tries not to think of the times Robin and the kids have made fun of him for doing the same, calling it one of his 'dad poses'. "Look, I didn't come to try and give you shit about getting knocked around a little being stupid and playing soldier. I came to- I was going to ask." He sighs and his shoulders slump a little forward and his eyes are focused on the toes of Steve's (very comfortable) bat slippers that had been a gift from Wayne once the kids had told him Steve had been the one to drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. "Did you want to come over for dinner?"

Steve doesn't think he heard him right. "What?"

"Joyce is making some sort of spaghetti casserole-"

"Isn't that just baked spaghetti?"

"And we wanted to have you over. We haven't talked much since I came back. I'd like to change that."

"What?"

"You, dinner, at our place? With me and Joyce and the kids? I think Jonathan is bringing Nancy." Steve flinches and Hop silently curses himself bringing up the ex who cheated on him and the guy she cheated with.

"Why?"

"Uuh... Talking?"

Ah, he had it now. "What did the kids do? Just, lay it on me man, and I'll take care of it. Did they say something? I can have them over tomorrow and talk to them. Was it Mike, it was probably Mike, I'll get him to apologize, just-"

"Goddamn it Harrington I just wanted to ask you over for some dumbass spaghetti casserole thing and a decent conversation. Maybe watch a football game cause no one else in that house seems to enjoy a good game."

Steve isn't sure what's happening. "You want me to come to dinner. To talk?"

Hop sighs again. "Yes, kid. Just. Dinner and talking."

"Uh huh. Right. I'm just- I just need a minute." He tries not to slam the door in the man's face but he's definitely trying to be as fast as possible. He's not sure what the hell is going on but it has to be something because Hopper wouldn't just invite him over. And Joyce Byers definitely wouldn't want him in her house for something as simple as a talk and to watch football. It takes him longer than he'd like to reach the walkie on the little side table by his grandmother's rocking chair. His ribs are screaming at him and his elbow smarts from banging it on the corner as he turned into the sitting room.

"I need some sort of backup at my apartment. Like now please?!" He waits a second before pressing the speaker button again, "Over."

The walkie crackles and he hears an assortment of concerned chatter. "Steve?" Dustin's voice breaks through the general din. "What's the problem? Over."

"I- I'm not sure how to classify it? I've Got Hop at my front door but I think there's something wrong with him? Or something is trying to trick me it's him? Oh shit did I get Vecna'd??"

"Steve," Nancy snaps, shutting up most of the chatter and giving his rising panic something to focus on. "Why do you think it's not Hopper? Or that he's not in control of himself?"

"He- He invited me to the cottage for dinner?"

"What?"

"Yeah just dinner and talking? And that- that's weird right?"

Nancy sighs and Steve hears Hop say something from outside his apartment. He's running out of time. "Why is that so weird Steve?"

"Cause he doesn't like me. And Joyce really doesn't like me." He feels like that's obvious. "They don't like me and they're busy with other stuff. They wouldn't willingly ask me over for dinner and football or some shit so something has to be up."

"Seriously kid?"

He doesn't scream as he drops the walkie-talkie, spinning around to face the voice behind him.

"You're calling an emergency cause I invited you to dinner?"

Again, he feels like this is obvious. "Yes. I don't know what happened but we're going to fix it Hop, I promise. Or, like, if you're something controlling Hop or wearing his face or some shit I will figure it out and I will find the most painful way to kill you."

Hop runs a hand down his face again, he's going to have so many wrinkles after this. "Fucking Christ, kid. Is it so crazy that we wanted to try and get to know you? Make sure you're fed and taking care of yourself since apparently Owens isn't making sure you're alright?!"

What the fuck?

"Yes!" That seems to make Hop take a step back. "I tried for years to try and get the slightest acknowledgement from you! I've spent the last year taking care of the kids and monitoring the gates and fighting Powell and Owens every time they decide to try something stupid and almost get their men killed cause I realized you never meant it!" God he can hear his voice breaking and feel the tears starting to roll down his face. "You never meant it. But you meant it for El and Will and fuck, even Jonathan. And they deserved that. They needed you and you couldn't be there if you and Joyce were fighting with Owens and-" He can't hold back the sob that rips out from deep in his chest. "And I don't- I can't- I just-"

"Hey, hey kid. I need you to breath for me. Okay? Can you just let it out in one push and take a deep breathe in."

There's a large, warm hand rubbing up and down his back. His running nose is throbbing, his sore ribs are probably cracked now from how tightly he's folded in on himself and his injured leg feels wet like he pulled the stitches when he dropped to his knees on the threadbare rug. There's a deep rumbling voice talking to him, telling him how to breathe and asking him to sit up, let go of the walkie he can hear crackling as people call his name and ask Hopper what's going on. It's all just too much.

Why?

"What was that, kid?" Oh. He didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Why?"

"I fucked up. I'm trying this thing called owning up to my mistakes." Steve lets out a wet laugh that turns into a pained groan when it shakes his ribs. "Come on, let's get you up here." He tries not to cry out when Hop lifts him up from under his armpits, pulling at his ribs, but he knows he lets out a sharp whimper. "You fuck up your ribs?"

"What do you think?"

"Yeah, dumb question." Hop chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Look, let's get your ribs wrapped and we'll get you down to the hospital to get checked out an-"

"No. No hospital. Can't do 'em."

"Kid you need to get looked at and maybe some pain meds and antibiotics while you heal up."

"No fucking drugs." Steve practically growls, his teeth clenched and eyes burning as he stares up at Hop. "I'll take your fucking antibiotics but I can take a couple of ibuprofen and call it a day."

"A couple of- What the fuck, kid? You can barely walk and you're telling me you're not in serious pain?"

"I've had worse."

"Bullshit." The kid winces and the look on his face closes off. "Stop trying to be a hero and just admit you need help." Steve rolls his eyes.

"I'm fine, Hop. I've walked off worse."

"Again, I call bullshit."

"You know how thorough our Russian friends could be."

"What?"

Steve shrugs, an angry grimace on his face. "Once you live through Russian military questioning and hiking through Upside Down Hawkins, most everything after that's a piece of cake."

"Jesus Christ-"

"I don't think saying his name is gonna make him listen to ya now."

"Ya ain't cute, kid."

Steve gives him the same smile he always did whenever Hop crashed one of his 'King Steve' parties. "I'm adorable." He chuckles at himself and Hop finds himself laughing along at the kid's attitude. "What do you want, Hopper?" Steve's voice is quiet. It wavers in a way that tells him the kid is sad and hesitant and tired and Hopper can feel something niggling at the back of his mind. "You come over out of the blue asking me to dinner with your family like that's something we do. What the fuck man? What are you trying to do?"

"Like I said kid: I realized fucked up. Bad. And I'm trying to fix it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

Steve leans back, the rocking chair leaning farther back than Hop feels comfortable with considering the kid's injuries but he manages to not rock back so far he falls. "Alright then. So what do you need?"

Hop can't follow this kid at all and he's not sure when that happened. If it's always been like that. "What are you talking about kid? You're the one that's all beat up." His mind goes back to swollen eyes and bruised knuckles covered in a rainbow of haphazardly placed bandages being fussed over by a group of dirty but uninjured kids. Bloody sailor uniforms rounding up rowdy kids without a mark on them despite obvious injuries and a slight limp and what might be bruised ribs. Bandages being removed to expose red raised around a strong neck that looks like someone took barbed wire to it and bulky bandages poking out from beneath stolen shirts. "What are you talking about what I need?"

Steve lolls his head to look at Hopper. For the first time all evening his eyes are trained on the older man unflinching and not anxiously darting away. His smile is more a resigned grimace. "What do you need to get Robin -and I'm guessing the kids- off your back?"

"It's not just because of them."

"But it is because of them."

"I want to make this right."

"It's not yours to fix, Hop. I've made peace with that. Thought I'd made that clear to the rest of them."

"I thought the kids didn't know."

"Not about you being my emergency contact and like, in charge of making big medical decisions if they couldn't get a hold of my parents. But that you'd stop by the house to make sure I hadn't like drowned washing my hair after I took a beating. That I put more stock in that than I should have."

"You were right to put stock in that stuff Steve. Fuck, if I knew anyone else in that situation I'd assume they'd basically adopted you. It makes sense."

Steve shrugs, wincing less this time. "That's life, can't fix it now."

"Will you let me try?"

"I mean. I'm giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card here man."

"And I'm not taking it."

"Well. It's there, whenever you decide to take it."

"Thanks but no thanks, kid."

"Hey, your choice Hop. Ever get tired of the boardwalk just say the word and it's yours. Do not pass 'Go!'. Do not collect $200."

"Monopoly, really?"

"My head may have gotten a knock too. Not a concussion but I'm a little... swimmy."

"Swimmy?"

"Uhm-hmm"

Hop chuckles, "You're an odd duck, kid, you know that? An odd, pain in my ass, duck."

Steve feels his face splitting in a wide smile that pulls at a small cut on his lip and lets his head fall back, his body finally starting to come down from the adrenaline rush that has been this entire interaction.

"Quack quack."

Tag list (I think this is everyone?)(If you see this post and your tag didn't work let me know cause they don't always work for me Idk why):

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @steveshairspray86 @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @wormapothacary @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @ellietheasexylibrarian @pukner @bookworm0690 @nightmareglitter @joekeerysmoles @salchica @lawrencebshoggoth @iheartjennaaa @child-of-cthulhu @anaibis @rocochen20 @katdeerly @samcoxramblings @fiore-della-valle

[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part Two) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part 1, Part 2

Taglist: @strnqer, @1985bitch, @curlycarley, @imaginemyfavoritefics,

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, hospital mention, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged! And this time is loosely based on S3, E5, where Daryl and Maggie go to get baby supplies for Judith. I will not be following the story to a T though, and will kinda carve out my own path, it's been ages since I've seen it so, any weird story omits or things I don't mention are just not happening here lol. And I know this is kinda fast, I'm just writing as I feel like it, so don't expect super quick updates all the time, but here's a treat. Thanks for reading!]]

You stopped, hand resting on a tree, just for a moment. Taking some deep breaths, you scanned the area, looking for anything familiar or anything that you could, at least, stay the night in. You were practically running on less than an hour of sleep, the pure adrenaline of surviving being the only thing forcing your eyes open.

Currently, your plan was to use some old lipstick you'd found in a purse - somewhere along the road - to mark trees. Leaving a trail, so you knew where you'd been and where you were going. It was simple, and would probably wash away in the rain, but it was enough for now.

With an exhale, you kept moving deeper into the forest - a hope for a cabin, deep in your heart. An unoccupied cabin.

It's not that you didn't want to help people. You truly did. And if you found anyone who needed it, you would - other straggling groups with limps and cuts and bruises. You'd give them advice on how to clean wounds properly, some regular items they could use. If an injury was more serious, you'd stay with them just for a while to watch the person, keep an eye on whatever you had to.

It never stuck, though. You found it easier to be alone, to be on the move. You could help more people that way.

Plus, there were... others. Driven to madness by the tragedy, brutally ready to kill at first sight for whatever fucked up reason they came up with. Some of them had used you for a while, providing you food and shelter, just to ship off wounded soldiers to you - ones they wounded themselves. It was eerily familiar to your previous job, and you almost fell into a rhythm - even thinking about it now, it snuck a knot of guilt in your stomach. One too many threats, and you found yourself back to traveling.

The scrubs you still wore stuck to your skin, hair matted and blood soaked - you imagined this wasn't one of your best days. But it honestly probably wasn't your worst either.

And then, you heard it. The snap of a twig.

"Fuck," you whispered barely even a breath, pulling your duffel over your side and readying your fire axe. (You'd grabbed it back at the hospital, all that time ago.)

There was something to be said about a single snap of a twig because the dead were noisy.

They were unaware - would continue down the path, crunching leaves and snapping more twigs, dragging their feet through the dirt. In different circumstances, they could sneak up on you. With the soft grass under their feet and the hum of the animals in the forest mixing in with their own tones, sometimes you had to rely on the quietest of noises.

But this forest? No.

Without thinking a second more, you spun behind the nearest tree, the red of the lipstick - grazing along your fingers.

"What, so-" a voice spoke, "-we just give up?"

"No," a gruff tone responded, hair a little overgrown, and what seemed to be a crossbow on his back, "-Just means we got some extra work to do."

The woman, who had short brunette hair and a pistol in her hands, said, "Yeah, and we're gonna do it. We... have to. She deserves a chance."

"Of course," the man responded, a little bit upset she even insinuated he wouldn't care.

You watched carefully, eyes following the pair as they roamed through the woods - before stopping in front of one of your trees, your marked trees.

"Fuck," you muttered, so soft, the wind could’ve whisked it away, exhaling carefully and turning around to face the other way.

"What's that?" the woman asked, a tone of mixed concern and curiousity.

There was a scrape, and you could only assume the man touched the lipstick mark, as he hummed, "Not blood."

"I think..." the woman muttered, the slight slur of her accent becoming stronger, "-I think it's lipstick."

The man huffed, his accent strong, "What for?"

There was more leave crunching, and the woman replied, "Maybe a path? I don't..."

"Hello?" the man spoke, and you heard the click of metal, like he'd moved his gun up, "Is anyone there?"

The woman seemed to keep moving, leaves crunching getting closer and closer to your ears, you knew they'd notice an end of the path.

You needed to do something quick.

"I'll give ya 'til a count of 3," the man spoke, the metal clicking once more, "-one."

Your breaths shook, as you debated your options, based on what you'd seen the gun the man had was long range. So, running was out of the question.

"Two," his accent lilted.

Your feet were almost rooted in fear, what if it happened again? What if all you were surrounded by was death? What if they used you and then killed you next? God, you couldn't die, not now. Not after everything you'd done.

"Three," he added, tone more aggressive, and the click of the metal once more sending fear down your spine.

You couldn't wait any longer, squeezing your eyes shut, you spun around, "Wait!"

Expecting the blossoming pain, you flinched. Yet, after a moment, nothing happened.

You cracked open your eyes, and saw two guns trained at you, the woman and man now in clear sight. Noticing now, the bags full placed at their feet, you wondered if they thought you were here for their supplies.

Without hesitation, the man straightened his gun and asked, "Are ya bit?"

"No," you answered quickly, flourishing your arms forward as if to show the lack of teeth marks, "-no, I'm clean, you can check."

"What's your name?" the woman spoke, tone solid and unmoving.

"Y-Y/N." you stuttered out, looking down the barrel of two guns wasn't exactly calming.

The man, a bit distant, replied, "What are you doing out here?"

"I..." you exhaled, trying to calm your shaking hands which were still caked in blood (as the rest of you were), "-I'm just looking for shelter for the night. Look, I don't mean you two any harm, just leave me be and I'll-"

The woman faltered, her green eyes flickering with emotion -just for a second, "You need shelter?"

"Uh, yes," you spoke, a bit bewildered that they were listening but too tired to question it, "-I haven't slept in 3 days, I just need some rest and I'll be-"

"Maggie," the man spoke stern and low, and you weren't sure you were supposed to hear it.

The sun was setting now, and if they had some shelter, this was your last chance for the night and you were just so tired. What else could you do?

Maybe you could bring something to the table.

Interrupting their hushed conversations, you began, "I... I heard you say a 'she' earlier, is there something wrong with her?"

The two stopped talking, the man's icy glare set on you, "Why you askin'?"

"I-If she's sick, I can help," you beckoned, "-I come from a hospital, I have all kinds of medical supplies. I-I can show you if you want. And-"

The man interrupted again, as the woman, Maggie you now knew, carefully watched you, "You a doctor of some kind?"

You paused, waiting for a moment before responding, "Y-yes. I'm a nurse, er well, I used to be. I... I worked at Harrison Memorial Hospital when it all went down."

The woman started this time, "And you're willing to help us?"

"Yes," you asserted, "-as long as I have a place to stay for the night. That's... that's all I ask."

"But you'll stay as long as we need ya?"

You furiously nodded, "Of course. I won't... I won't leave someone I know I can help behind."

The two turned to each other, before slowly pointing their guns to the ground. You exhaled a big breath of relief as your heartbeat slowed, muttering out, "Thank god."

The woman, held out her hand, "Maggie."

You hesitated for a moment, at the current state of your hands, before accepting it with a quick shake.

"Daryl," the man added, hand extended as well. You shook his, and began to follow in their footsteps -leading about west of where you were headed just earlier.

"Are you with a group?" Maggie asked, strolling along the woodlands.

"No," you replied, "-I... I come and go. Sometime people need a doctor so I help, but-"

The two looked at you, still watching you to say something wrong. They were still heavily armed afterall. The thought made your hands shake.

"I ended up in some shady places," you continued, "-because I stayed. So, I don't really stay anymore."

Daryl hummed in response, and Maggie simply looked at you with eyes of hesitant trust. Like she wanted desperately to trust you, but it seemed hard. You didn't blame her. Not really.

The last time you trusted someone, it hadn't gone well then either. This world is not one of trust, you knew that.

"We have a group," Maggie continued, walking in step with you as Daryl scouted ahead, "-it's small but we don't trust too well."

"Right," you murmured, expecting as much.

Daryl hummed, "We have a leader too. You'll have to meet him. You gonna be alright with that?"

Before you could even respond, Maggie interjected -an unsettled look in her eyes, "Daryl, is he even... in the space to do this?"

"Don't have to be," he responded, a little coldly, but you figured that was just kind of his tone at this point, "-he's gotta. I'll talk to 'em."

You furrowed your eyebrows, a question on your tongue, but found the following silence was not one to be interrupted. Without thought, you simply adjusted your bag and continued along. Their path was set as if this happened often, and the knowledge that you were going to a very settled camp irked you just a little.

A dynamic that felt substantial in this post-apocalyptical world usually wasn't the kindest. Oftentimes, it was 'kill or be killed'.

You knew that well, staring down at your hands (which had definitely dried by now) -you wished you had a way to wash them off. But the water was too precious to risk anyone's supplies, frankly. It reminded you of before, when veins would rupture, when hearts wouldn't beat, and everything felt like it was on the line.

An exhale, and you scrubbed your hands on your pants.

It felt immoral, as you held a fire axe in your hands. Weren't you supposed to save people? Wasn't that in the oath?

Shaking your head, you glanced ahead at the pair wondering how exactly this group operated -where they had a protocol for finding people. That wasn't... You hadn't seen much of it.

"This group," you questioned, "-how long have you guys been together?"

"Long enough," Daryl answered, curtly, "-prove yourself and you might just have a spot with us." Maggie hummed in agreement, pulling her pistol close to her chest, as a large barbed wire fence came into your view. And... were those... watchtowers?

"Is this...?" You trailed off, eyes taking in the surrounding concrete and the few stragglers either slowly trudging to the group you found yourself in, or mindlessly clawing at the tall fences as if it would do anything.

"Our base," Maggie finished, pulling her pistol to attention and shooting one of the dead just ahead of you -right in front of what you assumed was the opening gate.

"And it's a..."

"Prison, yeah," Daryl finished, pulling out his bow and killing the other one without a flinch.

"Right," you responded, a bit astonished, "-have you guys cleared the place?"

"Almost," Maggie answered, as the three of you stood directly in front of the gate. There was a watchtower to your left, and you could see the familiar glint of a scope shining down from the top.

"Glenn!" Daryl shouted, you watched as the dead stirred toward the noise, "-Let us in!"

There was a moment of hesitation, a breath of air catching in your lungs as the corpses made their way to you -slowly but surely. You knew a few weren't a threat, not with a group the size you currently were in, but you still felt this buzz of fear under your skin. Normally, you would be gone by now, vanished into the dust -not wanting to waste durability on a fight that would only bring more opponents.

Without warning, the door swung open and you assumed they had silenced the mechanism because no sound other than the screech of metal moving across the concrete filled your ears.

Which was not pleasant. At all.

The crowd there wasn't particularly large, but still seemed odd. Maybe you had been alone for too long.

A man quickly approached the group with a warm smile, rushing up to Maggie and scooping her into a hug. This figure hardly even noticed you or Daryl, now that you thought about it, but you doubted you would have either.

Daryl spoke, with a taste of disgust (you couldn't tell if it was playful or not) "That's Glenn, Maggie's boyfriend, you'll get used to it."

You nodded, pointing to a few stragglers around what looked like crops, "Okay, and... who are they?"

Without answering you, Daryl called out, "Rick out here?"

The older man who was tending to the crops looked up, eyeing you for a second, before answering, "I think he's inside, clearing out block F."

Maggie responded, "Daddy, can you see if you can get him out here?"

You blinked, absorbing the new information, Maggie's dad, right. The old man sighed, standing and brushing off his hands on his knees.

"I'll try."

Daryl nodded, not leaving your side, and it would've been comforting had you not known it was because you weren't fully trusted yet. Maggie guided you to a table, assumedly brought out from the cafeteria, and sat you down with a calm gesture to a chair. Glenn followed close behind, and Daryl merely observed.

You doubted he'd even blink while you waited for the mysterious Rick. He seemed the type to take his duty seriously.

"I'm Glenn," he held out his hand across the table, sitting just beside Maggie with curious but cautious eyes. It seemed he trusted Maggie's hesitant judgment of you.

"Y/N," you replied, accepting his hand, "-this is a lot, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Glenn continued, looking around the courtyard, "-finding the prison has been life-changing for us."

"I imagine," you laughed, a little in disbelief at the mere size, and looking over the two's shoulders to see the dead staring in through the fence. There weren't that many at all, but it still trickled in some of your solo senses.

Which were mostly bashing their head in before they get too close.

Maggie caught your eye, inquisitive almost like you were in an interview, "How familiar are you with the walkers?"

"You mean the dead?" you clarified, fingers trailing along the blood in the creases of your palms, "More familiar than I ever wanted to be, that's for sure."

Glenn opened his mouth to say something, but something bumped into your ankle and you were immediately on your feet. Prepared for the worst.

Instead of what you expected, there was a ball... An old deflated basketball probably from the court somewhere around here, you stared at it a bit incredulously. Like you'd almost forgotten it was a thing. You picked it up, brushing your finger along the bumpy texture.

"Sorry," a voice spoke. Squeaky and... familiar.

Your eyes snapped up and were met with those eyes 'You have to save him, please.' Breath caught in your lungs, your mouth moved but nothing came out. He was a little older now, with hair a touch longer and a sheriff's hat on the top of his head. But that was-

Daryl grunted, "Play somewhere else-"

"Carl?" you interrupted, tilting your head and dropping the ball to the floor; what were the chances?

Maggie stuttered out, a tone of protectiveness in her voice you'd have yet to experience, "You know him? Carl, do you know them?"

He paused, tilting his head in the same way you had just seconds before like he was trying to get a good look at you, "I..."

He looked into your eyes, eyeing your scrubs for a second -probably the same he'd seen you in so long ago. And the blue eyes that were so achingly familiar seemed to light up in recognition, he questioned, "Nurse Y/N?"

It was like a pin could drop, as the boy's gaze settled on you curiously, and every adult in the vicinity watched you like you were the most dangerous criminal in the world. A tension settling within the air that gave you uncomfortable goosebumps, and desperately made you want out of the spotlight.

Slowly, a grin slid across his features, his tiny finger pointing at you, elated, "You saved my Dad!" And before you could even react, the little boy had scurried up to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your middle - almost knocking off his hat at the force.

You blinked, a little stunned at the current predicament, but shook yourself awake. Completing the hug, you exhaled a sort of relief you hadn't known you needed. Seeing this little boy surviving such a terrible world gave you a spark of something. Like you'd been waiting to hear this.

"I promised I would, didn't I?" you hummed with a very soft smile.

Just as he let go, you crouched down and fixed his hat on his head, suddenly much more comfortable in a known presence, "Cool hat, kiddo."

He grinned even wider, but before he could even say another word, another voice echoed through the courtyard. Tone hardened and deep, this one could not be missed.

"Carl?" a breathy southern drawl -that you knew- interrupted, and your stomach flipped.

The tone was accusatory, dangerous even, so you stood quickly. A distance now established, you looked up into the figure. That couldn't be-

The blue eyes had burned into your head, so clear, so decisive.

"Rick Grimes?"

[mooonjin]

Imagination

Notes: im not doing kinktober this year UNFORTUNATELY since im still a bit new but i do have a tech smut for ocotober however ido plan on doing it next year if ur still sticking around :3

Pairing: Tech x gn!reader

Summary: Repairing the Marauder takes time and focus. Even once Tech has free time to himself, you are his only distraction.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ work!! minors shoo flyyyyy -  kinda sub!Tech, m masturbation, explicit thoughts ⁠— tell me if I've missed anything!

Part Two >

Tech wiped the sweat on his forehead. Repairing the Marauders haul manually took longer than he anticipated. He already had to charge Gonky six times so the droid would keep up.

"You can repair the ship later, Tech," you playfully teased, leaning against Gonky while eyeing Tech's focused face. He didn't spare a single glance, the ship being his main priority.

"Leaving Saleucami with the shuttle at such a state would not be smart," he began, eyes still glued onto his handiwork, "I highly recommend I complete the repairs."

You sighed, grinning disappointedly. Tech was always a hard worker and often over worked himself. Most of the time you couldn't tell how big his eye bags has gotten under those goggles, Tech insisting he kept them on because of the work on his trinkets.

"Go, you can greet Cut and Suu for me." You could hardly hear what Tech said, his head neck deep into the shuttles hull, a few beeps on his data pad echoing.

"If you say so." You patted the dusty surface of Gonky and mumbled your goodbye to Tech as you went to fetch the others inside the ship.

Tech pulled the stool he sat on closer to the ship, most likely to get a better look inside. He overheard the booming volume of Wreckers voice and Omegas laughs. It wasn't annoying, per se, he would rather it'd be silent.

He wiped his forehead again, his eyes darting up at the sight of you leaving the shuttle with the other Batchers behind you. Omega waved at Tech, who responded with a courteous head bow.

"Comm us if you need anything." Hunter commented. He signaled the others that they were leaving to go on the walk to Cut and Suu's, leaving Tech behind to repair.

You spared a second glance back at him, making sure he was okay staying behind. Embarrassingly enough, you caught Tech looking at you before rapidly turning his head around to play it off. You chuckled at the trooper, always so observant yet he gets so flustered when someone observes him back.

Tech coughed, coming back to reality and regaining focus on the ship. He didn't expect you to look back at him so he was more than flustered and had trouble with his concentration.

-

"Change of plans, Tech, we'll be going into town on a supply run." Your modulated voice came through Tech's wrist, almost startling him and hitting his head.

"If you don't mind purchasing extra durasteel? About 25 kilograms is sufficient." You smiled at how specific Tech was when they went on the usual supply run. He wouldn't normally speak, already going on is own to hunt down any materials for his or anyone's personal use.

Your modulated voice came back, sending Tech into a blushing fit. It was a short 'yes' before you signed off, assuming you told the others that they needed extra durasteel. Your voice gave him goosebumps, but the good goosebumps. Was it his attraction to you?

No, it couldn't be. Feelings were just the minds way of manipulating itself to feel wanted and appreciated. Tech's a soldier, bred and born for war, nothing else. He harshly shoved these thoughts to the back of his mind, replacing them with the job of repairing the shuttle.

As you were walking down the dusty town of Saleucami, you eagerly pointed towards different shops and stalls that Omega had never seen before. She was particularly interested in the ones with big, glowing neon signs.

"I can see the shops, why do they need those?" She hastily asked, her voice pitching up at the end of her question.

You chuckled, "They're to catch your eyes, some people ignore shops they're not interested in and something so big and bright around the dull space can draw you in."

Omega created an 'O' shape with her mouth, understanding the usage. The both of you quickly caught up to Hunter, who was currently paying for the extra durasteel Tech needed for the ship. You showed Omega around the stall, the little toys of droids and aliens grabbing her attention.

"That's an astromech plush, you might've seen a couple on Kamino."

"It might not be a neon sign, but this definitely caught my eye," Omega's eyes brightened, excited that she found something she really liked and wanted to keep, "Can we get it?"

"Go ask Hunter before he buys the rest of the stuff, and don't forget the puppy eyes!" You laughed with her as she jogged off the the cashier's desk to convince Hunter about the toys purchase.

Tech completed suitable repairs on the Marauders hull, all he needed was the durasteel to cover the interior engines of the ship. He grabbed his tools and put the most important ones on his belt and the others inside the toolbox that sat on top of Gonky.

Guiding the droid inside first, he switched on his charging port and let him recharge, quietly thanking Gonky's assistance. Tech checked up on the Batchers' location, surprised to see that they were still deep in the town for their supply run.

Surprisingly, Tech had nothing to work on. There were no trinkets the boys had brought back for him to analyse or to dig into to uncover some interesting information. He hadn't put aside anything to work on in his spare time.

He genuinely had no clue what to do. Gonky was charging so he couldn't divert power to a storage unit on the shuttle, he couldn't clean his blasters, having already done that before even landing the ship.

His mind was empty.

Well, almost empty.

He still couldn't get your voice out of his head. Your modulated voice. Especially only yours through his wrist comm. It's like his comm channel was made for you. At this point, he was blushing profusely, swinging his arms like a little cadet boy back on Kamino.

Now, his head was far from empty. His imagination running wilder than it could've gone. He didn't know it would even reach this point.

Probably a bit too wild.

He'd wonder how you'd sound under his helmet. Your modulated voice coming from one of his prized possessions. How you'd sound if you were writhing underneath him as he watched your eyes underneath his helmet. How you'd sound if he ruthlessly pounded you—

This is inappropriate, he thought. You're a member of the Batch and really good friend of his, should he really be thinking about in such a way? As he looked down in shame, he was met with the consequences of his dirty thoughts, his codpiece protruding a bit more than it should of.

Now he can't un-think this. It's human psychology, a thought or a situation has been birthed abruptly and told to forget it, well, that's difficult. You would have to do something in order to rid of it.

Even he rambles in his own head. He would have to do something to rid of it. Rid of his erection? That's both inappropriate and almost irresistible. Tech sighed, giving into his intrusive thought before walking towards the door panel to close the shuttles ramp.

He double-checked on his datapad that nobody could open the ramp manually outside, just so no one would walk in on him unexpected. He walked to the back of the shuttle, sitting down on his partially messy bunk. In several swift movements, he discarded his armoured pieces, tossing the larger ones to the ground.

Tech was now left in his blacks, his tent more obvious without the crotch piece. He dug his gloved fingers into the hem of his blacks to pull off the trouser piece along with his boxers. He tossed those to the end of his bunk, his hard cock resting against his lower abdomen.

He tested the waters, not having done this in such a long time. Tech wrapped his hand around his cock, sliding gently up and down and around the tip. He sighed, satisfied but not satisfied enough. He desperately removed his gloves and the wrist comms, tossing them to the foot of his bunk.

What he didn't know before continuing was his comm and landed on an odd angle. 

The button pressed up against his mattress had activated your channel.

-

Post-Notes: do u want a part two? HEHHE hope ya liked this ^^

~ ~ ~

@elsastoes @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @imalovernotahater @backyard-bear @namesmox

my taglist form!

[rubykgrant]

RVB AUs; Different Freelancers-

Wash shows up to answer the call from the Blues; he doesn't rush in to rescue Church. He wants to do a lot of recon, take stock of what weapons and supplies that are available... he thinks Tucker and Caboose MUST be messing with him. No way a group of soldiers could be THIS unorganized! That tank is weirdly familiar, too...

He's still a little out-of-sorts (this is after the Epsilon incident, but now this is happening instead of his Recovery missions), and keeps asking if this whole "simulation is just a test" (yes, the Reds and Blues are Sim Troopers, but there is also a little bit of info in the back of his head about the simulations Alpha went through, and while he insists that he's FINE, he keeps remembering stuff... wrong. I remembering things that weren't real?).

Church tries to escape the Red Base a few times, keeps "getting killed", and always winds up in another extra robot Sarge built. So he's just. There for a while. He attempts to sow discontent by bullying Simmons and trying to haunt Sarge while he sleeps to give him nightmares. When Wash finally gets a rescue going, Church almost wants to stay; he's convinced the new rookie Donut to reorganize the base how he likes it. Now it is more of a "reverse kidnapping" rather than a rescue. Wash sets up explosives in the entire Red Base, and while nobody is killed, this does result in Donut needing new armor (and thus the pink appears). Wash thinks this is the end of the nonsensical nightmare of Blood Gulch, but SOMEHOW the Reds argue that the Blues need to "share" the one base that's left, sit-com split-room style. The Blues claim Wash hasn't completed the mission until they officially win, so he's stuck.

Tucker keeps trying to play-up the "two leaders" thing like- "Church won't let me use the sniper rifle, but you're WAAAAAY cooler than him. Right?" or "Wash keeps putting stuff away wrong in the kitchen!". Meanwhile, Wash is trying to "test Church's ghost abilities" (he wants to prove this guy is a FREAKING AI, but every once in a while Church actually doesn't something oddly supernatural, so Wash is just ???).

Doc shows up, and Wash tells him they don't need an "unqualified medic"... and then he promptly gets run over by the Warthog. OK, Doc can stay until they get some actual healing units. Omega somehow either ran away from Tex, or got separated from her, and still shows up in Blood Gulch. The AI tries to get into Wash's head ONCE, then leaves. When somebody asks why that failed later, Omega just says- "He wouldn't stop SCREAMING AT ME". Omega literally couldn't concentrate enough to DO anything. There continues to be a constant pattern of Wash saying he doesn't need any help, and either the Reds or Sheila accidentally runs him over (this is the equivalent of Church always "dying" then coming back). Although Wash doesn't much care for AI, on a couple occasions Church has visited his head while he was injured to Make sure he wouldn't die, and... it kind of helps settle the weird unpleasant memories Wash has. Church and Wash get a little better at agreeing with each other after that (and while Wash finds his own niche being friends with Caboose and Tucker, Church realizes he's actually good at being a leader. y'know, when he's not screaming at everybody. oh, and he starts having some of Wash's weird memory-dreams. HMM!)

Other Scenario-

Carolina was in the neighborhood when the Blues called for help... though "helpful" may not exactly be the right word for Carolina. She's still in a spiral of "BE THE BEST" and "I LOST EVERYTHING", so she's, uh. Coping. She comes into Blood Gulch like a raging wildfire, walks to Red base, punches every single one of them across the room, and gets the stupid "robot ghost" back. Donut tries to throw a grenade at her from the other side of the canyon. She catches it, then throws it back. He explodes, and this is why he needs new armor.

The Reds are now convinced the Blues have somehow conjured up the Grim Reaper, so they run into the caves to hide (Sarge insisting this is just a tactical retreat). Meanwhile, Carolina wants to know why Blue Team has an "unofficial AI" and WHY it is using the same name as... somebody else she knows. They try to argue for like, half a minute, that he's just Church, he's just a guy- and she shuts that DOWN. So, OK, sure. He's an AI. What's up with the name? No reasonable answer. Carolina wants to go see if the Reds know perhaps!

The Reds find the underground computer stuff quicker (and Flowers has to get out of dodge before Carolina finds him and gets some ACTUAL answers). They try to use all the cameras to figure out what the Blues are up to, and only have a few minutes to see that Church, Tucker, Caboose, and the Tank are just standing around. Doing nothing. Where's that new scary girl? Oh, she's RIGHT BEHIND THEM. Carolina drags them back to Blue base, and after some interrogating that goes nowhere, she informs them that they aren't "two teams" anymore. When Sarge tries to argue and make a speech about the flags etc, she goes and gets both and burns them. Alright, one team it is!

Her plan is to train them, and jump into her track-down-the-director plan. She tries several different methods, including paring them up in different combinations, to see who works better (everybody usually just bickers endlessly... though ironically, when she can get him to focus, Tucker is actually very versatile and works well with everybody. Simmons and Grif are better together, because although they bring out the worst in each other, they aren't doing the same to somebody else, and it is weirdly efficient)

By the time Doc shows up, they have settled into a new kinds of "Red VS Blue", because they still have simulation fights, but are actually learning legit combat techniques. Omega escapes and finds his way here yet again, and Carolina recognizes the AI right away. She wants answers about Tex and the other Fragments... which he doesn't know. He also has no idea what the deal is with Church, but- "He must be some kind of boot-leg AI. Clearly not up to the standards of the ones from Project Freelancer). Omega's antics disrupt Carolina's plans for a bit, and to deal with him, she herself winds up working one-on-one with each of Reds and Blues. It wasn't something she thought she needed to bother with; they just had to follow her orders, and that was all (she's the main character. they're NPCs). She never meant to bond with any of them... but OOPS. Are these weird goobers her friends now? Church also starts to notice some of the things Carolina talks about, now that she's a bit more personable, are... familiar

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 23)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (22) | Next (24)

Content Warning: Violence/ blood, physical/ verbal abuse, neglect, vulgar language

Word Count: 3.1k

------ Chapter 23: A Merciless Beating ------

Ronny hadn’t touched Tanya since dropping her into her enclosure, and had barely even acknowledged her existence. As a matter of fact, nobody else had either. The giant prince hadn’t bothered to instruct his servants to take care of her, so nobody had fed her for days now. When she first arrived, she feared abuse; now, she feared neglect. The human house still had a supply of water, but she didn’t know how much longer it would last—or how long she would last, without the essentials necessary to sustain her body. 

Was she doomed to rot away in this glorified cell for the rest of her days, to wither away and starve in solitary confinement? Tanya was famished, but she was too afraid to ask for food. Ronny, with his foul temper and nasty attitude, intimidated her deeply. The servants were indifferent to her presence and annoyed about having to clean up after the sloppy prince. She doubted they would want to take on the extra responsibility of caring for the prince’s new pet on top of their existing workload, for no extra recompense. 

She couldn’t believe these giants could be so horribly callous. None of them seemed to view her as a person worthy of any attention or respect. She slipped into despair as she languished in her glass prison, slowly rotting away. She didn’t have anything to entertain or distract her from her empty belly. Tanya wasn’t a stranger to hunger, but that didn’t make the discomfort any easier to deal with. 

If she was going to survive, she would have to be brave and make her needs known. She would have to ask one of the giants to feed her. The task before her was daunting. She imagined the prince squashing her like a bug in a fit of wrath at her audacity and trembled. She pictured one of the servants plucking her out of her house, since Ronny didn’t care about her, and stealing her to satisfy his own depraved desires, and her blood curdled. The risk was high, but the cost of inaction was higher. She needed to be assertive. 

As she watched Ronny suit up in an all-white body suit—for what purpose, she had no clue—she decided to speak up. She bit her lip as he looked himself over in the mirror with a fierce expression. Tanya couldn’t help but notice how fastidious he was in his appearance, from his head to his feet. He didn’t have a single hair out of place, with the black strands glossed down to a smooth shine. His handsome face was flawless, his clothes unwrinkled and spotless—he was immaculate. If Tanya wasn’t so frightened of him, and he wasn’t a humongous and savage giant, she might’ve found him to be quite physically attractive. 

Her throat seized up as his dark eyes met hers from the reflective surface of the mirror. He spun around, his noble features warped with bestial bloodlust. Tanya panicked and fled, hiding under her bed with her heart pumping hard. She was flooded with shame over her cowardice, on top of her despair, as his massive footfalls rattled the walls. She was alone again. Her abdomen cramped with hunger and she groaned. She couldn’t continue like this: She had to act. 

She resolved that she would talk to the next giant who came into the room, whether it was the prince or one of his servants. She was getting desperate. Her stomach whined relentlessly and burned as if it were digesting itself. She hugged her knees into a tight ball and eventually began to drift off to sleep. She was tired, both in a spiritual sense and in a physical sense, since her body lacked sufficient nourishment. She dreamed of mountains of bread, cakes in market stalls that jumped away when she tried to grab them, soldiers chasing her shouting, “Thief!” 

One of the soldiers in the dream grabbed her arm and she was snapped awake with the deafening slam of the bedroom door. Tanya timidly crawled out from her hiding place to see that Ronny had returned. However, he was in a completely different state than when he left. His white uniform was stained with dirt and red chalk marks all over. His black hair was sticking out in messy tufts all over his head. His chest was heaving and he was clenching and unclenching his fists with tremendous strain in every muscle of his body. His face was layered with sweat and grime, and his expression was contorted with overwhelming fury. 

Tanya had never seen the finicky prince in such disarray, but she had seen him angry too often for her peace of mind. And at that moment, he was absolutely livid. Tanya’s hopes of catching him in a good mood were dashed as he stomped around the room and swore with murderous language. He picked up loose articles and hurled them against the walls, breaking things and tearing through all his stuff. Tanya’s heart sank to her feet. There was no way she could bring attention to herself without dying; she was going to starve to death. 

The prince’s tantrum was interrupted when another giant opened the door to enter the room. “Not right now! Get out of here!” Ronny snapped. He twisted around to a dead stop, however, when he saw the intruder who hadn’t even bothered to knock was none other than his domineering father, with his colossal guard. Ronny’s rage evaporated, to be replaced with a nervous air. 

“Ronny,” his father uttered coldly. “We need to talk.” Ronny swallowed, sat stiffly on the edge of his bed, and folded his hands sheepishly in his lap. He gestured to a chair, offering his father a seat, but the king chose to stand. 

“I spoke to your tutor this morning. He mentioned that you’re behind on your studies.” Ronny clasped his hands and stared down at his shoes. He wanted to defend himself, to inform his father that he had large gaps in his studies due to a lack of formal instruction, but his lips stayed sealed shut. He was too unnerved to speak. 

“And I don’t think I need to relate back to you your abysmal performance in your fencing lessons.” Ronny shook his head, his face pinched with strain. The king took a step forward, making his son flinch slightly. He lowered his voice to a dangerous pitch. “Ronny. Look at me.” 

The prince looked up, as if he were trying to force himself to stare directly at the sun. Hardon scowled and continued to browbeat him. “Ronny, you are proving to be lackluster and useless on every conceivable level. You are stupid and childish. You are weak, not only in constitution but in character. Soft and flabby like a dead fish. I can no longer tolerate this. I need to set you straight before it’s too late.” 

Ronny didn’t get a chance to react before his father raised his hand and struck him hard on the side of his face. “Ajax, hold him down,” he commanded. Ronny yelped as the gigantic man lunged forward like a bull and wrestled him to the bed. He was no match for Ajax, who had biceps as thick around as his skull and almost eighty additional feet of height. 

“Ajax, give me your belt.” The guard only needed one muscled knee to keep Ronny pinned as he impassively undid his belt and handed it to King Richard, who bared his teeth in a bloodthirsty grin. “Consider this a warning for future things to come if you don’t shape up,” he snarled. 

“No, please!” Ronny pleaded, squirming uselessly. King Richard ignored his begging and procured a knife from his guard. Ajax flipped Ronny over on his belly and his father slashed open his soiled uniform with the knife, exposing the tender flesh of his back. Ronny recoiled at the touch of the cold metal and the sound of the fabric tearing. 

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Hardon sneered, snapping the belt in his gnarled hands. He swung it back and whacked his son’s bare skin with the big brass buckle. Ronny jerked against the big hands holding him down and screamed in agony. A deranged glint flashed in the king’s pale eyes as he went berserk, whipping the prince with frenzied strokes. The buckle bit into Ronny’s back, leaving bruises and welts and drawing blood. 

He unleashed a volley of verbal abuse to spice up his violence, frothing at the mouth with insults and curses. “Worthless piece of shit! Fool! Idiot! Loser! You must be a bastard son: There’s no way that you’re mine! Useless, disgusting, filthy, cowardly, slimy puddle of rotten puke!” As enraged and inflammatory as his degrading words were, the king was clearly enjoying himself, finding release for his sadism. By the time he was done flogging Ronny, he was breathing hard, but his eyes were shining with stimulation. He dropped the belt to the floor with a heavy clunk. 

Ronny sobbed uncontrollably, delirious from the pain. His father leaned over him, digging his fingers into the bloody gashes in his back. Ronny shrieked like a little girl, contorting his back. Hardon raised his bloodstained fingertips to his lips and tasted the blood with glee. He couldn’t restrain himself from chuckling. 

“Your blood... it tastes just like Alessandro’s did...” he remarked, licking his fingers clean. “Now, Ronny, I want you to think about this lesson and apply yourself harder. Be an heir that I can be proud of. Or else your fate will be grim, just like your older brother...” He trailed off and frowned; he grew distant as he reminisced. Without another word, he walked out, with Ajax following close behind. 

Tanya watched the whole scene play out in abject horror. The king was a psychopathic lunatic. Ronny laid listlessly where he had been shoved into the mound of bedsheets, his body crumpled, shedding salty tears with pitiful whimpers. Tanya winced as she gazed over the bloodsoaked landscape of his back, framed by his shredded shirt. Her fear for Ronny had vanished, seeing him so defeated and hurt, to be replaced by pity. He seemed far more approachable in his vulnerability. As a naturally empathetic person, Tanya wished to make him feel better, even if she didn’t find him especially likable. 

She gulped and mustered up her courage. “R-R-Ronny...” she muttered. Her voice was too quiet for him to hear through the glass. She cleared her throat, louder this time. “Prince Ronny!” 

Ronny’s chest spasms halted. He had assumed that he was alone, forgetting that Tanya existed, so her voice materializing out of nowhere startled him. He turned around to look at her, with his face swollen and soggy. Tanya flinched but held her ground. “Are… are you alright?” 

Ronny didn’t answer. He seemed baffled that she was talking to him. His eyes, like black coals, burned into her. Tanya sensed she had made a terrible mistake. She took a few steps back, stumbling into a chair, and cowered behind it. Her fears were confirmed when the huge man sat up and prowled over to her house, his torso encompassing her entire view through the glass. Tanya shrieked as he opened the roof and towered over her. His features appeared all the more terrifying as his cheek puffed out and darkened with a bruise. 

“F-f-forgive my insolence, Your Highness!” Tanya sputtered, ducking further behind the chair. “I meant nothing by it, forget I said anything-” She shrieked as the giant flicked the chair out of the way effortlessly and encased her in his fist, lifting her clear out of the house. He held her up to his tear-streaked face and scrutinized her closely. Tanya froze up as she stared into the darkness of his huge irises before her. The prince had lost his brutal edge: He had a softness to him, in his touch and expression. Stripped of his cold façade, Tanya could finally bear witness to the fear and pain buried inside him. 

He carried her over to his bed, sat down, and eased himself into a reclining position that didn’t make his raw back sting too much. He gently cradled the small woman against his chest, letting out a long, laborious sigh. Tanya swallowed, too nervous to move as she was surrounded by his fingers and the immense wall of his chest. She wasn’t sure what the giant was planning to do with her. She tensed up, ready for anything. 

“I hate him,” the prince said. Tanya looked up at his sculpted chin above her. She couldn’t see his face from this angle, but she could feel the tension in his muscles and the raw emotion in his voice. “God, I hate him. I can’t stand that man.” 

Tanya patted the folds of his palm underneath her in understanding. The prince continued to vent in a shaky voice. “I feel like such a failure, but I just can’t live up to his impossible standards. I’m never good enough for him. He pressures me to be just like him, but he’s so repulsive. I don’t want to be heartless and wicked and perverse like he is.” Tanya stroked one of his enormous fingers, hoping to soothe or placate the unpredictable giant. Ronny glanced down, giving her a weak smile. 

He felt better, vocalizing his thoughts to another person, even if she was nothing more than an insignificant human. He would never tell anyone else his deeper thoughts, but he was comfortable confiding in her because she didn’t really matter. She belonged to him. She wouldn’t spill his secrets to others or gossip about him behind his back to the servants. Plus, he had to admit... she seemed nice. Not too many people were nice to him. 

Ronny dropped his voice lower. “I’m... afraid of him,” he confessed. “I’m afraid of what he’s capable of. Not just because he beats me. He... made my brother disappear. Alessandro—he was the eldest son, the crown prince before me. He went to confront my father about how he treated the human kingdom, and Dad murdered him in cold blood. And then he erased him from all the historical records and forbade anyone from mentioning him. He didn’t just kill him: He obliterated him entirely from existence. Such is his power, and his cruelty.” He lapsed into silence as he relived the haunting memories. 

“That’s horrible,” Tanya said softly, with genuine feeling. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, that you have such a heavy burden upon you.” Ronny wrapped his fingers snugly around her and pressed her to his chest in a sort of hug. Tanya was amazed to receive such a kind gesture from the prince. She didn’t know he was capable of compassion. 

With all the drama, Tanya had forgotten about her hunger. Her stomach made sure to remind her with an obnoxious grumble that was loud enough for even the giant prince to hear. He tilted his head at her, puzzled. “Are you growling at me?” 

“N-no, of course not, Your Highness!” Tanya hastily denied, flustered. 

“What was that noise then? Your belly?” 

Tanya flushed and nodded sheepishly. “Yes. I apologize... I haven’t eaten in days...” She cracked with emotion and nearly started crying at her own misfortunes. 

Ronny raised his dark brows along with his voice. “The servants haven’t been feeding you?!” Tanya shook her head, a single tear rolling down her cheek. 

“I’m so hungry...” she admitted faintly. She slumped against his chest weakly. Ronny frowned, anger boiling in his gut at the incompetence of the giants around him. 

He snapped his fingers impatiently. “Servant! Get in here!” His manservant rushed into the room with a bow. “Bring me a snack! Something soft! Now!” The servant nodded and hurried out of the room. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you fed... uh... what’s your name?” 

“Tanya,” the diminutive lady sniffled. 

“Tanya.” Ronny felt something strange as he looked down at her. He was typically indifferent towards humans at best, and repulsed at worst, but when he saw her huddled up in his hand, an unprecedented tenderness stirred inside him. She had witnessed his personal woes, listened to his rant without judgement, and comforted him in his time of darkness, and he was thankful for that. He brushed her cheek with his thumb. She drew back from his touch, still uncertain. 

The servant returned with a wide variety of confections and savory treats. Tanya’s jaw dropped at the edible panorama, which included shrimp, bruschetta, crostini, slices of smoked salmon, deviled eggs, finger sandwiches, bonbons, pudding, cookies, and miniature snack cakes. Ronny shooed the servant out of the room and set Tanya in the middle of the tray. Her mouth watered uncontrollably and her stomach gurgled noisily. 

“Go ahead. Eat what you want,” the prince uttered casually, as if the feast set before him was merely a common snack. Tanya couldn’t resist her hunger and chowed down with the urgency of an underfed person who didn’t know when her next meal would come. Ronny was peckish after his grueling sparring session, so he ate as well, albeit with less enthusiasm than the starving human. He observed her shovel food in her mouth with mild amusement. 

Tanya filled her belly to bursting, until she made herself nauseous. She flopped down and rubbed her swollen midsection. She was relieved to sate her hunger, but her heart began to palpitate when she regained self-awareness and realized she was surrounded by giant food, with a man-eating giant towering over her. She was completely at his mercy. She went quiet and stared up at him with wide eyes, waiting to see what he would do. Was the whole display of kindness a trap? Did he stuff her just to improve her flavor? Could she trust him? 

Ronny, oblivious to her discomfort, yawned with fatigue and plucked her up off the tray. “I need to wash up,” he proclaimed. He lowered her back into her house, shut the lid, and left to take a bath and tend to his wounds. 

Tanya, now alone with her thoughts, wasn’t sure what to think. Her view of the prince had radically changed. She had seen a different side to him that she never dreamed existed. And, thankfully, she had been blessed with glorious food, so she wouldn’t wither away to skin and bones. Maybe she had a slim chance at happiness after all. Maybe. 

Chapter 24

[claudeng80]

Letters From the Front (WWI AU)

December 1914

I never expected to receive anything in the mail, least of all from you. When it had become clear I had nobody at home to miss me, my lack of letters because something of a daily jest for the unit. Your package put a stop to that, and my only regret was that I was so busy being surprised myself that I forgot to enjoy the looks on their faces.

The young master made a real point of the fact you were a generous sort. I guess the right thing to start with would be an apology, right? If I’d known you were this kind of person from the start, I wouldn’t have agreed to do what I did. I owe you one. Let’s all hope you get a chance to collect on it.

And thanks for the book. I heard a story about a guy who had a book in his pocket save him from a bullet. I’m not saying I’m counting on it, but why take chances? It’s going everywhere with me now.

That said, I’ve been assigned to the young master’s unit for good, so he’ll be keeping a close eye on me. Surely I can’t get into too much mischief anymore. He made the best face when I said I was writing you a letter, but he sends his regards. No, not regards, he says I have to cross that out and get it right, that’s an order. He sends his love.

And on that note I remain your irresponsible correspondent,

Obi

***

February 1915

Why am I not surprised you lined up for nurse training the moment you had the chance? It may not be your original plan- yes, I did overhear your intentions for medical school, and I’m not asking what happened to that- but these days none of us end up exactly where we plan to. But I’m sure you will be a great nurse. So many soldiers will be cured on the spot by the simple sight of your cheerful face that we will overwhelm the Germans with healthy numbers alone. Please write back and tell me about all the stupid injuries you see. I can’t wait.

The lieutenant sends his love, again.

Obi

***

May 1915

I promise I’m not going to make any more jokes about getting injured. If I had not already learned my lesson from the extensive lecture in your last letter- honestly, you do not need to waste so much paper on me- I would have learned it in the last couple of days. Today I write to you from a field hospital. Don’t worry, I am in one piece, all that is missing is a large quantity of blood and the nurse tells me I can fix that myself so long as the army sees fit to supply me with enough meat. I will do my best to keep the blood on the inside from now on, but I am not going to complain about the extra meat ration.

I know you’re going to ask me about the hospital, but I refuse to describe it. It’s much like any other hospital, save that all the medics are officers and order us patients around incessantly. You would have been impressed with the man who sewed up the hole in me, though- it’s hard to tell whether it was his stitches or the cursing that stopped the flow. He was truly gifted on both counts.

Lieutenant Zen stopped by to visit. He is very busy. He says he appreciates your letters greatly and sends his love.

Your only-a-little-exsanguinated friend,

Obi

***

July 1915

I will start with the most important news: we are all in good health. For now, at least, I should say, because the shadow of doom lies upon us. Our unit has acquired a creature. It is a scruffy dog of indeterminate breed that has an endless appetite for the beans we are all so heartily sick of and one trick that it will display on command. He falls down dead when “shot,” which is not that original a feat, but nobody thinks I’m funny when I remind them we’re all capable of the same. Somehow when the dog does it, it’s amusing.

I am not yet convinced it will not kill and eat me in my sleep, but it insists on bedding down on my feet. At least, if it does, I will go out with warm toes, I suppose.

I am very glad to hear that everyone at Wistal is thriving and that you are assisting Lady Haki in her plans. Zen has concerns about the practicalities of establishing a recovery hospital in such a grand home, but I am sure that with the two of you teamed up it can be nothing but a success. Do not let all the soldiers fall in love with you; broken hearts are not conducive to recovery, and we need them all back out here.

Zen sends his love. He says he will try to draw the dog for you. If he does, please save the picture because I want to see it.

With regards from the future dog food on the hoof,

Obi

***

December 1915

Last week I received five of your letters at once; it seems they have been chasing me around Europe for some time. The bounty of news from home is a bit overwhelming- I have been rationing them so as to take it all in manageable bites.

There is little more that I can tell you than ever; winter is cold, but dry. We slide on the icy mud instead of sinking into it; equally treacherous but a trade I, for one, welcome. Our French counterparts have celebrated the feast of St. Nicholas, and also we heard the faint celebrations from our opponents in the distance, but nobody would be foolish enough to leave their boots off for long enough to acquire treats, or to eat treats that had been in close contact with boots. Obviously the saint pays no attention when the rules aren’t followed, because we are entirely lacking in treats. It’s hard to imagine Christmas will be any different.

Oh, I suppose I do have one item of note to report- we came across the wreckage of a downed airplane. We hear them snarling overhead from time to time, but it’s the first I’ve had a close look at, and now that I have, you will not catch me clamoring any more for a ride in one. On the ground, it was a pile of sticks and cloth, no more substance than a toy. I’ll keep my feet on the ground, thank you.

With jaunts up walls and into the trees when warranted, of course. Those are sturdy and don’t count. But my point is that I got a piece of the plane as a souvenir. I can’t say I know what it is, but I hope I can show it to you someday.

I can’t get my hands on Zen to get a message from him this time, but I’m sure he would send his love as always if I could pin him down to do it.

Sincerely,

Obi

***

April 1916

I understand you may have had some distressing news about the progress of the front; whatever you read, you don’t need to worry about us. We are fed regularly and our feet are dry and healthy. I have not been eaten by the dog yet. 

Zen sends his love.

Obi

***

June 1916

I am well.

I have been admitted to hospital wounded/sick. I am doing well and will return to duty soon.

I have received your letter/telegram/parcel dated June 1, 1916.

Letter follows at first opportunity.

I have received no letter from you lately/for a long time.

Signature: Obi

***

Shirayuki lays the postcard on top of the stack. The edges of the cheap paper are starting to fray, but she can’t leave it alone. After all of these months of regular letters, he sends her a form postcard completely lacking in information, and then nothing. It's been four months. She doesn’t even know what to write back anymore.

“Put your boyfriend’s letters away already and come on,” Yuzuri complains, and Shirayuki yanks open the desk drawer. The pile’s too tall to fit now, and she has to split it, adding Obi’s latest letters on top of Zen’s much slimmer pile. “You’ll find out when you find out, reading that postcard for the thousandth time isn’t going to tell you anything new.”

“It’s not-” Objecting is a reflex now, but a futile one. She knows Yuzuri has heard the whole explanation at least three times now. She just doesn’t listen, or doesn’t believe what she hears. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, she has two soldiers she’s writing to. She’d known them both not even three weeks before they enlisted, and neither Zen’s hasty proposal or Obi’s abject apology makes either of them a boyfriend.

No matter what Obi thinks. She’s given up trying to explain to him either; her ink and paper are better spent on other topics.

“They’re going to start without us!” Yuzuri dances at the door. “Do I look all right?”

***

She’s not superstitious, of course, doesn’t believe in ghosts walking the earth on All Hallow’s Eve, but if she did, the light and chatter coming through the open windows make Wistal house a very appealing destination. She and Yuzuri and all the other nurses who board in the gatehouse take this walk every day, usually a few minutes of serenity before the intense day of work. Tonight’s train of nurses are anything but serene.

Lady Haki raided the Wistal attics, so they are a fancy parade as well as a merry one. Yuzuri leads the way in one of Lady Haruto’s old Royal Ascot outfits complete with hat, their precious victrola clutched in her arms. Haki comes next, very dapper in a morning suit borrowed from her husband’s closet. Shirayuki would have been fine to skip the fancy dress, but the others reminded her just how much their American patients were longing for a Halloween party. She couldn’t disappoint them, and that’s how she ended up wearing her weight in ruffles in some Wisteria dowager’s bustle dress. The color is nice, but it does feel very odd to know how much she looks like her grandmother’s wedding portrait right now.

When the nurses make their grand entrance, patients smile at them from under their bandages. Two of the more ambulatory, one with bandages wrapped loosely around him like a mummy and another wearing a bedsheet for a turban scramble to divest Yuzuri of the victrola and Haki of the pile of records, already squabbling about which music to put on first. The feathers on Yuzuri’s hat block Shirayuki’s vision, and when she turns to bat them away, her attention is arrested by an unfamiliar face.

Or perhaps not unfamiliar, but unexpected- she knows she’s seen those gold eyes under thin eyebrows, that hedgehog hair untamed by the uniform hat now tucked beneath his arm. He’s not a patient here, despite the bandages, but he knows her, too, she can tell.

Yuzuri’s feathers assault her nose again, and by the time she’s moved herself out of the danger zone, the stranger is a step closer. The victrola starts up with a crackle, the first lilting notes of the Aeroplane Waltz filling the air, and the corner of his mouth twitches. 

That mouth she knows, though. It was the same quirk on the stranger’s face before he admitted to being the real thief. His eyes twinkled, just for a moment, then the smirk slid into a full-on beam. Just a few words to admit he was the one who slipped the Wistal silver into Shirayuki’s bag, and Zen pushed him off the balcony.

One week later he was with Zen on a troop train to the Continent.

Her feet move faster than they should in a dress not her own, but she can’t help it. One stride short of her target, unfamiliar heels catch in the unfamiliar hem, but there’s only a moment of free-fall before she is stopped. Her hands lock around his wrists, and his hands around hers. “You’re here,” she breathes.

“In almost one piece,” he agrees, and then a true smile blooms. His hands twist out of her grasp and before she knows it she’s spinning, scrabbling at his shoulders as her skirt swishes around her feet even though he’s holding her steady. His laugh is a beautiful sound that for months she’d thought she’d never get the chance to hear, and somehow the Obi of her letters and this man in front of her click into place. He’s wry asides in awkward script, but he’s also solid muscle under green wool and raindrops in hair. She wants to grab hold of him until he is as familiar to her as all his letters.

But he winces, setting her down abruptly, and folds over stiffly. “Ow,” he says, like it’s a joke. 

She knows that reaction, and the shame behind it all too well. “You’re hurt.” He watches her out of the corner of his eye, as though if he pretends it’s not there she’ll do anything but scold him.

“Wouldn’t be here if I weren’t,” he says at last. A pinprick of blood spreads on his shirt.

Shirayuki sighs. “At least you’re in the right place.” The examination room should be empty, with everyone at the party right now. Yuzuri catches her eye with a quizzical look, and when Shirayuki points to the door, she answers with a wink. “Let’s take a look at the problem. But I can’t promise to be cheerful if you can’t take care of your wounds.”

“Oh, I do have an order to carry out,” he says, and Shirayuki pauses. It’s not going to stop her from getting his wound set to rights, but if he’s going to protest she may have to bring in reinforcements. “Zen sends his love.”

“Enough about him,” Shirayuki snaps, and Obi stares down at her. Perhaps she was a little harsh, but that’s not who she wants to hear about right now. She pushes Obi into the examination room. “Now tell me how this happened.”

[sillymaxing]

Idk what to call my AU, but here are some character descriptions and hcs.

CW: mentioned war, mentioned torture, mentioned suicidal ideation, imprisonment, isolation.

General

When the main 4 were living together, Tord was 25, Edd was 25, Tom was 24, and Matt was 23.

Tord moved away when he turned 26

And then 3 years later he comes back, now 28.

And within a month, He is kicked out cause all of the events in The End.

The invasion happens a year later. When Tord had time to regroup.

Tord

Doesn’t show his face. He wears a very silly red armored mask.

5’8

He’s an inventor, engineer, scientist. This man is SO smart.

He knew about Tom’s Monster form for a while. Even before he moved out. He just didn’t say anything.

More focused on work than romance or even friendship.

Absolutely no restraint or hesitation on the battlefield.

Very much addicted to smoking. It’s to the point where he claims he can’t think straight if he doesn’t smoke.

Really wishes Edd and Tom were just random people instead of old friends, because now he feels guilt and remorse hurting them.

Paul is like an older brother figure to him.

Patryck is someone Tord met when he moved away originally. They totally met at the gym.

Paul

In this AU, Paul is actually a HUGE behind the scenes guy.

The Red Army was his idea originally.

In fact, he was going to be the leader.

But he met Tord, and saw CRAZY potential.

Convinced Tord to move away and train underneath him.

Listen, this man has like maxed out charisma. Convinced this little red guy to leave his entire life behind.

Tord is the face of the Red Army, and the one making most of the decisions. Paul is like his advisor.

Didn’t actually like Patryck at the start, but they work as fine coworkers. They can get along pretty well now.

Paul is 5’10

In his early 40s

Patryck

Patryck was a regular dude going to college and studying Supply Chain Management and Information Systems.

This guy is a businessman through and through.

Tord tried to convince him to join the Red Army, but Patryck insisted that he finish college first.

And he DID!! But during college, Patryck would train with Paul and Tord. He learned how to handle melee weapons, firearms, etc.

In his early 30s.

5’11

He really likes video games. Keeps a Nintendo Switch in his room at the Red Army base.

Really wants to grow out his hair, but Paul and Tord have instructed that it can’t be longer than shoulder length due to safety precautions.

Normally has his hair in a ponytail or man bun.

Tom

Okay so Tom’s monster form is like 20 feet tall.

While in his monster form, he isn’t really conscious.

He can kinda control when he turns into his full monster form, but can’t control when he turns back human.

Has this half human half monster form? But it varies. The more monster-like he is, the more foggy his brain gets.

REALLY bad suicidal ideation. He tries to remain strong and tough, but after about a year of being in a lab, it starts to eat away at him.

5’10

The most notable traits of his monster form are razor-sharp claws, teeth, a spiky tail, horns, and purple literally everywhere.

He isn’t allowed to talk to Edd. Isn’t even informed that Edd is captured.

Ever since experiments started, Tom’s craving proteins a lot more, and eats a lot more food in general, since he has to maintain his monster form for longer.

Once Tom starts cooperating, he gets little rewards! Like being able to talk to Matt, extra rest time, comfortable clothes, longer showers, even gets to go outside sometimes.

Edd

Oh boy.

When Edd abandoned Matt, he ran to start the Resistance.

Edd REALLY misses Tom. Regrets not staying around for him.

REALLY good with melee weapons.

Unmatched rage towards Tord. Towards any Red Army soldier. And now that Matt joined the Red Army, only proving Edd right, he now has unmatched rage for Matt.

If Edd and Tom were actually able to talk to each other, they would plan their escape.

Like actually HATES Tord. Hates him more than anything.

5’9

Really misses how things used to be.

Regrets ever letting Tord back in their home.

He feels like all of this is his fault, and that he could’ve prevented it.

Constantly replaying his past in his head, thinking about what he could’ve done differently.

Stays in an isolated cell after his capture. Only a handful of soldiers are allowed to interact with him.

Tord keeps him painfully updated on Resistance survivors that have joined the Red Army since his capture.

Matt

First of all, he’s 6’2.

He isn’t imprisoned for that long compared to Tom and Edd. He’s only in a cell for like 2ish months before being let out. This is mainly because he gave up fighting about a month in, but Tord needed to make sure Red Army actually had Matt’s loyalty, and it wasn’t just a lie.

Matt went from the cell straight into duties, becoming an official member of the Red Army.

Matt works as the supply manager?? Idk the right name for it, but he tracks food and water supply. He’s Patryck’s assistant too.

Matt takes on a few other duties here and there. He doesn’t do anything battlefield related.

Matt is also tasked with showing new recruits around the main base.

He has a room right next to Tord’s.

Sneaks away to bring Tom food or to just talk with him.

[fernwebs]

TF2 OC Infodump... About this silly guy

Minion's relationships with the mercs

Engineer - Engie is like one of the only people that can understand him (literally not emotionally) because of his thick ass accent. Minion likes to talk to him. Minion yaps to him a LOT, about almost everything.

Medic - Minion WILL find any way possible to be the one to deliver Medics orders personally. He also likes to include extra organs in almost every shipment. Minion makes his feelings towards Medic very obvious, but Medic continues to play dumb to keep getting those extra organs. Minions bird is the cause of at least 3 archimedes going missing.

Spy - Spy has photo evidence of Minion doing weird shit (staring at medics ass or smth idk). Minion is VERY aware of this and gets very nervous when hes doing anything at all because hes afraid that Spy is taking a picture of him.

Soldier -  Soldier is one of Minion's best friends, but Minion is scared that Soldier will grab him. Because he did, once. Minion got accused of not being faithful to America.

Sniper - Minion thinks he's weird because of the jarate thing. Hes scared that Sniper will throw jarate at him. Theyre probably buddies though, because they are both from places that have like weird animals, and they'd probably talk about that.

Scout - Theyre probably buddies because they both are falling for someone who barely likes them back. They encourage eachother. They're also relatively around the same age.

Demoman - Demoman is one of Minion's best friends along with Soldier. They'd also be drinking buddies, maybe not too often but they would. Minion gets really emotional when hes drunk, so he'd probably overshare to Demoman.

Heavy- I think theyre only acquaintances because they both cant quite understand each other (considering they both dont speak fluent english, and their native languages are different) BUT i think if they ever hung out they would cook for each other / bond over food.

Pyro - He probably hangs out a lot with Pyro because of Louise, he draws with Pyro when hanging out with them and Louise.

Bonus: Miss Pauling - I think he respects her a lot as a person and thinks she's cool. He probably tries to convince her just a little bit that scout is cool.

Louise - They are literally the father daughter duo EVER!! minion loves louise as a daughter so much and he cares so much he would take a bullet for her.

Eddy - Even though they might argue or have their differences sometimes, Eddy is always Minion's best friend. Minion truly appreciates Eddy and is grateful that Eddy is in his life.

Smissmass Presents

Spy - Lint, like he WRAPS IT to make it look like an extravagant cool gift but he actualy needle felted to lint to make it into a middle finger

Soldier - a tabo becuz he heard that soldier like bucket

Medic - he would buy him like 8 presents and make him custom advent calendar but its just pics of him and its the same picture each time for 12 days

Demoman - probably a nice bottle of wine or a case of his favorite alcohol

Scout - shitty art supplies because Scouf draws a lot, minion thinks those are the best art supplies in the world

Heavy - He would try to make a sandwich but with hawaiian rolls

Engineer - a book on how to learn tagalog

Pyro - 200 pack of jumbo crayons

Sniper - something very australian related

Bonus: Miss Pauling - A world globe you color in places for everywhere you've been.

Louise - Literally ANY toy besides a puzzle because he knows shes sick of if

Eddy - joke gifts like a mug or t-shirt that says something retarded, but if a real gift he'd buy something that was on eddys wishlist or something

on the bonus ones.. Louise and Eddy are my friend's OCs

@ilikesimsfour

thanks for reading chat!!

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The Glass Merchant Part Four

Masterlist

Part Three

Contains: Fluff, mild angst.

4.2K words

The truth comes to light

Despite his rushing thoughts, Kai slept like a baby encased in the warmth of the comfortable guest bed with the sounds of the wind blowing up outside. It was considerably colder when he stumbled out of bed, and the sky that shone through the ceiling in the main room was somehow both dull and foreboding.

Minna was there in a long, silky green robe, feeding Zephy a plate of fish with a soft smile on her face. She turned to him and pointed towards the hallway. "I was about to get breakfast, do you want to join me?"

He nodded. "Sure, Love." The silence that followed them through the hallway wasn't awkward, but he'd be happy when it left. She stood in front of the open fridge, looking at her supplies as he took a seat. "About last night?"

She nodded. "I'll answer any questions you have, you deserve that much."

He shrugged. "Ay, but I don't have any." He sighed and rubbed his face. "Look, there's no love loss between Kora and me, she's a little too self-righteous for my taste, I'm just surprised she didn't want to make sure you got your glory, she was all about thanking everyone who helped."

Minna shook her head. "The government kept my involvement out of it; all she knew is that it was a state-run lab that created it." She rubbed her face and took an armful of items from the fridge. "When the Motherworld realised their Dreadnoughts were useless, they just sent wave after wave of soldiers in hopes of winning a war of attrition. The fighting in the streets was bloody and close up, and by the end of it, we just wanted to rebuild; there was no interest in metals and parades."

He chuckled. "So no putting her statue in the town's square?"

She let out a single harsh laugh. "That's not our style."

With the soft tapping of a knife and click-clack of pans, breakfast was slid in front of him with a smile from her. "Omelette with vegetables. Eat fast, the weather report says we've got about five hours until the storm hits so we've got work to do."

****

Kai was shocked at the rush that greeted him when they walked outside; soldiers were everywhere, working with Minna's neighbours to tie down the enormous trees were dotted throughout the block. Eventually, as the skies grew darker, the same glass and metal frames that protected the stalls at night came out of the ground to encase everyone's front garden and all the berry-covered green hedges around the neighbourhood. A soldier handed him a long coil of thick, rough rope and directed him to help with a gruff point as another handed Minna a box of goods. "I need to pack these away and hand some stuff off, just do what you're told and you'll be fine."

He didn't have the time to argue, not with the disaster growing above everyone's heads. It was hard work, throwing the ropes over the tall trees and lashing them to the ground, but everyone was doing their bit, it was an effort he hadn't seen in a very long time.

There was an anxiety in the air, the same that comes when a ship starts to list in the middle of deep space. An elderly man, cane in hand, hobbled over to where Kai was helping another man tie down his boat as he shook his head while looking skyward. "The name's Earl, I live next to Minna, you're new here."

Kai nodded. "Yeah, she's letting me stay with her until the storm passes."

Earl chuckled. "Well you're going to be here a while, it hasn't been like this since I was a boy." It made sense as to why everyone was so hurried.

The man Kai was helping tutted. "Don't scare him Earl, the weather division won't know anything until it hits."

Earl smiled, old and seasoned, like he had told a joke that went over a child's head. "You'll see, this is going to be a once in a lifetime tempest." He reached out and placed his hand on Kai's shoulder. "I have to give your host some extra fish for the blankets she gave me. Don't hesitate to stop by if you want a cup of tea, my doors always open."

Kai smiled. "Thank you."

Earl limped away, and as the last boat finally settled, Kai stretched his aching arms above his head. The man he was helping stretched his hand out, and Kai accepted the firm shake. "I'm James; we're three doors down from you. Is this your first time on planet?"

Kai shook his head. "I was here before to buy something from Minna, it's lovely here."

James nodded. "The best place in the universe." He jutted his head towards the slowing building swell and sighed. "Some of us are taking one of the storm boats out to check for people needing a hand, you wanna come?" His expression was appraising, there was absolutely a wrong answer here.

Kai nodded. "Sure, just let me let Minna know."

James smiled. "Go ahead, follow the pink flower signs, she'll be making sure the med bay is all stocked up."

Even with the building storm, the walk finally allowed him to take in the area past Minna's house. There was a central pathway in the middle of the island linking everyone's homes together, every so often shooting off into a park or public building. Everything was well signposted; some he understood, like a book for a small library and a lightning rod for what must have been the island's power bank, but others, like the pink flower, made little sense. Nevertheless, he took the path all the way along until he arrived at the bustle of the med bay.

He wove past all the people, knocked on the door frame, and waited for Minna to turn around. She did so with a smile and a sigh. "Thank the Goddess, can you go over to the wall and turn on the water pump please?"

He did as she asked, using all his strength to move the valve until it loosened and he heard the rush of water. "You a nurse too?"

Minna shook her head. "Almost, it's a long story." She sighed. "There are three of us trained to work the med bay but we've never been all that busy since the war ended."

He took a second to look around; for a mini hospital, it was a very inviting place. There were five beds along the walls, the far wall lined with frosted glass cabinets and a sink, while the ones on either side contained desks and equipment. "Earl said the storm's going to be here a while."

A flash of worry came over her face before she shook her head. "There's no point in worrying until we get the full report, regardless the military have special ships to travel in the storms so we don't have to worry about running out of supplies."

He nodded. "How long until it hits?"

She shrugged. "Maybe a few more hours." She closed the cabinet and rubbed her face. "I'm done here, we better head back home and lash down the boat."

He smiled and stretched out his hand. "Lead the way Love." She rolled her eyes but looped her arm in his as she began to walk. "Can I ask you a question?" She nodded. "Why a pink flower, wouldn't a medpack make more sense?"

She smiled. "There's a flower called Floscura that grows in our forests, is what most of our very effective and advanced medicine comes from."

He blinked. "Shite, you really do have it made here."

She nodded. "That we do."

They paused as two little children rushed in front of them, Minna smiling as they exchanged words in their mother's tongue before running off again. "Sorry, they don't start learning the universal dialect until they're a little older."

He smiled. "Don't fret about it, it's a very pretty languge."

There was that sad look again in her eyes, and she took a deep breath. "It's called Menian, after a Goddess. My mother…" Her eyes fell to the ground, and her chest shuddered as she turned her head away. "We really need to get back."

He didn't press; he understood the choke of emotions that came with some memories. "I told James I'd head out of a patrol boat with him, what am I in for?"

She chuckled. "I'll give you something so you don't get sea sick, other than that, good luck, I hate drowner duty."

Kai looked at the bright orange swim trunks with a raised eyebrow. "Is this it?"

James nodded. "You won't get lost, what more do you want." He sighed and smiled softly. "You'll be fine, you can stay in the boat."

The iciness coming off the water was enough to make Kai shiver even fully clothed, but he wasn't going to let anything stop him, not with Minna watching from her doorway. "I'll be fine, I used to fish in the rain for my Ma all the time."

James gave him a hearty back slap as his face broke into a grin. "Glad to hear it."

They walked to the dock and Kai stepped behind a curtain to change, he could see Minna walking over above the metal rob and flashed her a smile. "You coming over to wish me luck?"

She shook her head. "I'm coming over to tell you to be careful. The net slashers come out in this weather and they're mean." He gave her a wide-eyed look, and she smiled. "They like the taste of offworlders too." He could tell she was bullshitting him, or at least he hoped she was. He stepped out from behind the curtain with a smile, and she handed him a cup of steaming blue tea. "For your sea sickness."

He didn't miss how her eyes stayed locked on his face, her back stiff straight as she made a point of not looking at his naked torso as he reached out a muscled arm and took the cup from her. "Cheers, Love." He downed it in one, it was somehow hot and cold simultaneously, sliding down his throat like warm honey as it settled in his gut. "That was delicious."

She nodded and took the cup from him. "Good, off you go, you've got boats to rescue."

He grinned. "How about a kiss for good luck?"

She rolled her eyes and stepped closer, placing her hand flat on his chest as she craned her mouth towards his. He should have known by her grin that she wouldn't give in easily, and the soft brush of her lips on his cheek severed to make his blood rush. "Good luck Kai." She stepped back and finally allowed herself to look at him, her eyes raking over his body with a slight tilt of her head. "Don't drown, it would be a shame if you missed dinner."

With that, she turned on her heel and headed back towards the business of preparation, leaving him alone while James laughed behind him. "She's not kidding about the net slasher, they're a real problem." He pointed behind him to the large boat pulling into the dock. "We gotta head out, you ready?"

Kai nodded. "Ay."

Not even the worst storm on Saaldorun matched this, and it hadn't even started raining. Still, Kai watched as the few men and women with him jumped off the boat and into the water to tow other boats to safety and drag half-conscious people out of the water so the medic ships could take them to hospital.

They came up to another row boat in trouble, the people on board working hard to keep the boat upright as the water moved in the wake of their ship. "You guys need a hand?" James's voice was steady despite how worrying their situation looked; one more big wave and the rowboat would be upside down in the water.

"Please, we thought we'd have time to go to the market." The man sounded scared, his body coiled tight, ready to swim if his boat went over.

James slapped Kai on the back and smiled. "In you go."

He took a deep breath and moved to the edge, squaring his shoulders as someone handed him the rope. The water was so cold it felt sharp when it splashed on his skin, and a zip of fear raced up his spine at the look of the broiling sea. But he was no coward, and with another deep breath, he jumped in. The frigid water stole the breath from his lungs, but he still managed to kick his way to the rowboat and tie it up, and with a finally tightening tug, it snapped tight, and he hauled himself back onto the ship.

James was smiling from ear to ear. "Good job, you can do the next one too."

Between the adrenalin and the warmth coming from the vent at the bottom of the ship, Kai no longer felt the cold. "Ay, you just tell me when."

It went on like that until the first cracks of thunder and lightning went off in the distance, and the skies finally opened as rain began to pour from above. A harsh siren went off, and the ship kicked into high gear as it pulled the rowboat back to the Minna's island. "We're not collecting more people?"

James shook his head. "No, now that the rains have started it's not safe, the military will get them home."

Everyone was lining the shore when they arrived, standing in the rain waiting for them to return. Kai hopped off the ship and walked straight to Minna grinning like a fool as she wrapped a dry, warm blanket around him and handed him a cup of tea. "Fire mushroom tea, it will help you warm up. Did you have fun?"

He nodded. "Ay, a boat load."

She shook her head and sighed. "Go inside and have a hot shower. They'll be locking everything down soon, and we need to put the finishing touches on all the prep."

He finished his tea and flashed her a smile. "You're a doll."

She rolled her eyes. "Go, before I make you work in your swim trunks."

He chulked. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

He couldn't find words to describe how much he loved her look in incredulity. "Go, I've left some clean clothes under the heated blanket on your bed."

Kai needed the hot shower, but nothing beat being greeted by warm clothes when he stepped out of the bathroom to get dressed. It reminded him of when his mother would leave his clothes by the fire so they'd be warm when he returned from working on the farm, and he pushed down the rush of homesickness as he slid the loose linen shirt over his head.

When he walked into the main room, Minna was there, soaking wet and sipping on the same rich smelling mushroom tea. "You look like a drowned cat."

She laughed. "And you look warm. I just wanted to rest for a second before I take a shower myself." She moved closer, reaching out her hand to place it on his shoulder. "Thank you for helping today, James told me how many people you saved."

He grinned. "All in a hard days work." Before she could reply, another siren rang out, much louder and harsher this time, and there was the sound of mechanical creaking as the pathways were enclosed in metal and glass. "I thought the first one was loud."

She sighed. "The first one was the warning, that one was to make sure people are inside." She rubbed her face and pointed behind her towards the kitchen. "We're having dinner at the community hall tonight, you wanna help me cook something once I'm clean?"

He nodded. "Sure love."

She blinked slowly with the exhaustion of someone who clearly wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, but she smiled softly. "Great." Without another word, she spun on her heel and walked upstairs, leaving him to stew in his swirling emotions as the storm above truly made itself known.

This felt familiar to Kai, peeler in hand skinning root vegetables for a stew bubbling away on the stove with the warmth of the flame making the kitchen feel like a cocoon. The weather was raging above their heads, the rain coming in so heavy that it formed falling sheets on the glass roof while the thunder splintered the air with the rhythm of a machine gun, and the lightning flashed like their muzzles.

"It's really coming down now." Despite the similarity to the hail of war, the fury of the deluge was nothing but pleasant, and he found himself waiting for the warmth of dinner like a balm from a long forgetten childhood.

Minna sighed. "Yeah, this is about as bad as it will get. I'm sorry you've ended up stuck here, I know this must be cutting into your income."

He was taken aback, the last thing he felt was stuck here. "Nah. I got a warm bed, good food and wonderful company, I ain't stuck here."

She smiled and shook her head. "You never turn off the charm, do you?"

He smirked. "Is it working?"

She shook her head, but the smile on her face gave her away. "No. Now, if you're finished peeling the vegetables, you need to cut them so they can go in the stew."

He tossed the peeler into the sink and reached across her to grab a knife, making sure to lean into her space as his fingers curled around the handle. "You sure about that?"

Her eyes fell to the bench as she did her best to hide her expression. "Yep." She lifted her head and their faces were close enough that their noses almost touched. "Can you hurry up with the vegetables please, we don't want to be late."

He fought the urge to kiss her. "Alright Love, your wish is my command."

As night fell, the sky went from dark grey to pitch black while the storm roared overhead, flashing light through the darkness with an unpredictable burst of sound and glow. Kai watched from the couch as Minna fed Zephy, his little grabby hands picking up the bits of cut fish and inspecting them before using his razor sharp teeth to tear off little bites. "He loves his tucker."

Minna chuckled. "He will do anything for food." She had just finished packing all the food they had cooked, there was the meat and vegetable stew, savoury pancakes and bread and whipped dessert that smelt like cream and honey.

"How did you come by him?" Besides fish and birds, he hadn't seen much wildlife, although she had explained before that there was plenty if he would just pay attention.

He was getting used to brief flashes of emotions on her face, anger then sadness this time. "Poachers killed his mother and tried to smuggle him off planet. There's a roster for caring for injured wildlife, and my number came." She walked over to Zephy and scratched his soft head. "He was only a few days old and sick when he came to me, in the end, he couldn't go back to the wild."

Kai had run into his fair share of professional poachers, they were just as bad as Motherworlders. "What happened to the bastard that took him?"

She smiled, it was almost sadistically cold. "You didn't read the pamphlet and all the signs when you came in? We killed poachers here." He understood the fondness she had for the furry purple creature, especially as he raced over to Kai to hand him a half chewed bit of fish. "He likes you."

He chuckled and made a show of pretending to eat it as Zephy chattered happily at the sight, running back to his dinner once he was sure he thought Kai had eaten it. Minna walked over and palmed the piece, tucking it into a tissue and hiding it on the tray of food containers. "We gotta go."

The outside world was something to see, even with the pitched shells that protected all the footpaths from the storm. The walk to the community hall didn't take long, even accounting for how they had to stop to make room for everyone coming out of the homes with trays of food. Minna paused to toss Zephy's gift in one of the many rubbish bins and by the time they were close enough to hear people talking, he could smell the food wafting from the door.

They were greeted with warm waves as they entered, and someone pulled out a chair for them both while someone else took the tray from her. Everyone was seated at a massive oval table, children on their parent's laps as the man standing at the door waved the last person inside.

With the table full of people and food, dinner began. Kai noticed that some people were praying over their food, their palms folded in front of them as they muttered under their breaths. He waited until they were done, turning to Minna for an explanation, and she smiled softly at him as she clarified. "Most of us still believe in the Old Gods, it's just a thank you for the food and the company."

He nodded. "Ay, my Ma was the same."

Before he could say more, the elderly woman sitting next to him took one of the many small bowls from the table and placed it in front of him. "That's one of the best dishes here, I wouldn't want a guest to miss out."

He smiled. "Thank you Ma'am."

She brushed him off and introduced herself as Lilly, and before long, everyone joined in. Between the food and being welcomed like a friend returning from long travels, he felt something settle in his chest, something which, while he knew what it was, he wouldn't dare name.

It felt like his plate was never empty as time went on and conversation filled the air. There were dishes upon dishes, and by the time dessert came, he felt like he couldn't eat another bite. Nevertheless, the table eventually cleared, and as it grew later, the people with young children left for their warm beds. They went with the last group, Kai lingering to chat with a new friend as Minna helped clean up.

By the time they returned to her house, he was ready to sleep himself but she dragged him over to the couch and waved at him to sit down. "We should know how long the storm will be here by now, they'll be playing the weather report on the Hologlow on repeat."

Before he could ask what the Hologlow was, a transparent screen slid out from the wall, and a picture slowly came into focus. He grinned and shook his head, once again marvelling at how normal everything felt. "You have a telly."

She nodded. "If that's what you call it. We've got millions of channels and things to watch, too." She huffed. "We're just like everyone else, I promise."

She made herself comfortable, shoving Zephy towards the middle as she sat on the opposite end. They turned their attention towards the screen, and she clicked a button as the video began to play. As if the technology knew they had just arrived, the newscast started from the very beginning. He could see the uneasy look on her face as they showed a moving map of the planet, her mouth slightly open while she barely blinked like she was scared she'd miss something. She clicked the small controller in her hand more, and the dialogue switched to her native Menian while universal subtitles appeared on screen.

"Once in a century storm, currents reports have its duration at one month. You are advised to prepare to have the forest festival indoors this year."  

She clicked the dialogue back to universal and turned to him. "I'm sorry, sometimes it's just easier to understand in Menian."

He smiled. "Ay, I understand." He hated how concerned she looked, like she was worried he was upset, so he leaned in as close as he could with Zephy between them. "We got a whole month together, I guess we better think of things to do."

She grinned and met him in the middle, once again close enough that they were almost touching. "I'm sure we'll think of something." A yawn from here cut off his plans to steal a kiss, and she leaned back to stretch. "But right now, I'm going to bed."

She stood up, and Kai joined her, not yet moving to his guest room. "You need company?"

She shook her head. "Nope, I want sleep, not whatever you've got planned."

He chuckled. "Alright, you know where to find me if you change your mind."

She huffed and turned on her heel. "I won't. Goodnight Kai, sleep well."

He was never going to get tired of riling her up. "Goodnight, Minna, have pleasant dreams."

She was already halfway up the stairs with Zephy following behind her, and he made his way into his room. As he settled into his warm bed with the rain and storm overhead, all he could think about was how happy he was to be able to stay here with her for a whole month, coin be dammed, this was the most joy he had been in years.

Part 5

@red-orchid @rayslittlekitten @laurfilijames

[devsgames]

Starfield Has A Direction Problem (A.K.A. 3000 words on Starfield)

(This was cross-posted from my Patreon. Please consider supporting to help support the work that I do and get early acess to articles and game prototypes! Also there will be spoilers for Starfield in this post, so avoid reading if you care about that!)

I want to paint a picture for you.

---

I enter the secret United Colonies space station, taking stock of the cargo workers mulling on around me. For all intents and purposes, they think me and my associate Andreja are one of them, unloading cargo from an unassuming freighter. In reality however, we're on a mission for the Crimson Fleet - the nastiest pirates in the galaxy who are willing to blackmail, cheat, and steal their way to riches. We're here to pilfer some top secret ship technology; if we don't get shot trying.

I enter a room and in my haste one of the guards stop me. They question me, and my answers fail to meet their scrutiny. They realize I'm not one of them and start firing at me. Things are about to get ugly.

Before I know it, my companion Andreja and I are weapons hot, firing a hail of bullets at the soldiers who stand the hallway across from us. It's now do or die to get our hands on this tech - and I'm not planning on dying today. We cut through the cargo bay, crossed by fleeing and cowering dock workers, scientists and engineers. Sure, they're innocents in our battle, but this is a dirty job and they're witnesses to our larceny; they have to go. "You won't get away!", Andreja screams at them at the top of her lungs before firing a few quick shots of her beam rifle into their face. Another problem dealt with.

Next to their still-warm corpses I notice a stack of medical supplies ripe for the taking amongst the cargo, and I pilfer them as they're sure to come in useful on the way to our objective.

Suddenly I hear Andreja's voice chime in from behind me, the derision audibly coming in thick through her teeth: "What? We're resorting to stealing now?!", she asks while harbouring zero semblance of irony or awareness.

---

This was extra confusing considering that when I first joined Constellation - essentially the 'explorer's guild' of the Starfield universe as well as the main story faction - its leader Sarah Morgan pulled me aside and explicitly said 'we don't care who you are or what you get up to, as long as you're interested in discovering the secrets of the universe you're a welcome member here :)". My character Nicoletta was a no-nonsense, get-it-done-by-any-means-necessary type of person, so the proposition sounded great! I could do whatever I want and as long as I was exploring the universe Constellation wouldn't mind!

Little did I realize this was only true insofar as they wouldn't kick me out of the main story for being evil - however, it did mean that every single main story character would hate my guts for doing anything that bordered on criminal or non-morally-resolute.

If it seems like a confusing direction choice to penalize a player for deviating from a standard moral code in a game ostensibly labelled a "roleplaying" game where you play as a character of your own creation that's because...well, it sorta is, and at 30+ hours in that's really been the bulk of my experience with the game.

I wouldn't go so far to say that as an experience Starfield is "good" or "bad" - it certainly has its ups and downs and I've found about as much to enjoy from it as I have to dislike. However, I have a ton of feelings about how it chooses to present itself, and it's something I haven't been able to stop thinking about in the few months I've been exploring it. In fact, my 30+ hours of Starfield has felt like a series of similar confused themes and decisions that create what I can only describe as an intensely fascinating identity crisis.

According to the The Washington Post for Starfield, Todd Howard described Starfield as addressing the question "And now man is living amongst the stars: what does that mean?". I think to some extent I would agree that Starfield is fundamentally about people. While it's a sci-fi game set in the year 2310, you can tell its focused on people and their experiences with the world and tries to focus in on what that would mean. Characters will have mundane, everyday conversations on the backdrop of a gorgeous alien landscapes or utopian cities, side quests often involve solving minor disputes or helping folks with very mundane human problems, your character's animation features them adjusting a small interface panel into position to accommodate themselves as they settle into place in their pilot chair. To some extent the game is aware that people living in this world is a core part of its identity.

But on the other hand, it doesn't carve quite enough into what that really means, and many of these ideas feel like they didn't provide themselves with a leg to stand on.

Take the worldbuilding itself; it's only been two hundred and fifty years since mankind left Earth, and no one really mentions where they came from. There's colonies and factions people will identify themselves as, but nothing really outside the lore of the Starfield universe. There is no concept of old nationalities, rivalries, religions or anything of the like - as if the intention was to completely wash itself free of Earth and all it entails in order to have a blank creative slate.

Heck, as far as Starfield is concerned there are now only three religions:

- "Enlightened", basically space humanists

- "Sanctum Universum", essentially a Monotheistic God religion (sorry Muslims, Christians and Jews, etc. you're Sanctum Universum now! Don't ask about plural religions I guess)

- "House Va'ruun", a fictional religion around a Snake God

While it might work for something like The Elder Scrolls which is more focused on 'fun' worldbuilding and not grounded in realism, it's baffling to me for a game to claim to be about people and boil down the core element of the modern day world like this.

I mean, in our modern world people still harbour feelings, biases and grudges going back hundreds (and sometimes thousands) of years, and Starfield would somehow prefer you to pretend simply because the Earth no longer existed all those things are no longer a factor. There's some hints that some people might know about their original Earth ethnicity or nationalities...but also people still clearly have skin tones and different (often heavy) accents! It seems like an essential step of worldbuilding to include stuff like this in a very near-future space game, especially if the direction for your game claims to be about people. In the span of 200 years oral history is somehow largely gone, and Earth to most is a distant curiosity as opposed to a place of origin. What it really feels like is that it wanted to be relevant to the modern day, but so far removed that it doesn't have to deal with the real-world baggage that might entail.

I think this is sort of a pattern Starfield establishes for itself though; desperate to say something, and yet constantly puts itself in a position where it refuses to say anything at all.

You can tell even in its visual direction which Lead Artist Istvan Pely describes as "NasaPunk". Now, putting aside my absolute disdain for the habit of people arbitrarily tacking "-punk" on aesthetics to create aesthetics that aren't counterculture in any sense: Starfield is certainly about NASA. Main story missions have to explore old NASA facilities, you find NASA products as loot, and read NASA logs about previous space missions. NASA is mentioned many times by name, and features prominently in the game. The art direction of the tech in the game certainly seem inspired by modern NASA technologies extrapolated to a near-future setting.

And what does it do with this fixation on bringing NASA tech into it's world? Well...it proceeds to tell a story featuring (spoilers) unrealistically expansive city complexes, multi-dimensional space travel and alien races beyond human comprehension. It stylizes and builds upon """NASA-punk""" into its aesthetic and then tells a story via scenarios that feel very irrelevant to that fixation. It grounds itself in the modern world and chooses to abandon that entirely. NASA here serves a brand activation (and, if I'm honest, like someone on the directorial team just happened to think NASA is cool). Whatever NASA is to this game, it's not a game direction.

To that end, the story of Starfield runs a similar gambit. Now, you might be surprised when I tell you that I think Starfield takes some of the most bold and impressive story and gameplay choices I've seen in a big-budget video game in recent memory. You might be less surprised when I tell you it does absolutely nothing with them, and in fact winds up making them ultimately incredibly rote.

For example, in a story mission you suddenly find yourself hopping between dimensions (a la Titanfall 2). You stumble through a facility trapped between two dimensions, talking to people on either side, and have to eventually choose which dimension to save and which to sacrifice in order to stabilize the continuum between them. It's actually pretty cool! There's interesting puzzles to solve, an interesting moral choice to make, fun variety of combat encounters - it was altogether interesting to play!

However, at the end of it all the 'save a dimension choice' is intensely mechanical in a video-gamey sort of way: One dimension gives you a new follower, while the other gives you better loot. Nothing outside of the one location you do the mission in changes, no one outside the facility is different or comments on the choice you made, and honestly the follower you get for making the one choice isn't even that interesting or core to the narrative. On the outside world for all intents and purposes you'd never know you *changed dimensions* at all.

Another point midway through the game has your group, Constellation, under attack by an unknown alien presence. You have to make a choice between two locations to try and save your companions at. In either case, one main cast companion whose affinity is highest towards you will die if you don't choose their location.

It's pretty bold to kill a main member of the cast mid-way through the game, and I'll certainly give Starfield credit for trying a move like that! However...you're now missing the one member of the cast you ostensibly liked the most, only for them to adopt a moderately antagonist role later. Maybe it's because I struggled to gain attachment to any member of my crew, but this moment felt incredibly flat thanks to how the main narrative had presented itself up to that point.

Take Constellation: Constellation itself intrudes itself on the game in a large way, both by being tied heavily in with the main story, and also insisting on the player a specific path to take. As I mentioned, none of the members of Constellation are comfortable with you doing evil, but all of them are very happy when you do good. Because you frequently have a member of Constellation lurking over your shoulder as you go about exploring the world and doing their quests, you'll frequently be backed into a moral corner of "doing the right thing to make your associates happy"; you end up following the path the story wants you to take more than carving your own. In fact, many members of "Constellation" get upset with you if you express that you're not really interested in the premise of "exploration" and "mysteries of the universe" that they present to you in the first place, especially since it's near exclusively the only thing they ever talk about.

In many cases - perhaps unsurprisingly give Constellation's affiliations - the moral choices the game seems most happy for you to take are exceedingly middle-of-the-road and good-aligned (but ultimately centrist) ones. In one instance when I discovered the corrupt leader of a mining colony was an asshole who was making all the worker's lives a huge pain in the butt, I blackmailed him and got him fired with the hopes it could help inspire change for the workers...only for a high-ranking military man to butt in and arbitrarily take his place instead. It felt like a shallow victory, yet one that the game seemingly expected me to be happy with.

I've also found much of the dialog with the members of Constellation to be a slog because...well, they're always talking about Constellation and the events that are occurring in the story. Now this isn't inherently bad, but so many conversations with them feel like "Telling" instead of "Showing".

The limits of your interactions with the cast involve a follower tapping your shoulder to say "Boy I cannot believe [x major story event] just happened!", to which you respond, "Yeah crazy right" and then you go on with doing whatever you were doing. Each will have a major story mission to do for them, but often it feels like they're just props set in place to remark upon major story events and not really contribute much in a way that feels impactful to you. On top of this, the bulk of the main story missions involve going to the same landmarks scattered across the world to unlock powers in the exact same manner as the last time. The game clearly really really wants you to care about Constellation and everything happening to these people and the events around them as they're central figures to the whole game, but the way this is presented to you so rarely feels like it seeks to justify that to the player.

Again, this isn't to say there's nothing redeemable about these interactions! Initially, I actually really enjoyed my time talking to Sarah Morgan about the events that transpired. I loved the cast of characters and how human they all felt, until I realized how rote those conversations were as I repeated the same conversations with each of them individually with each and every member, talking about the exact same event seven different times. It's a muddy and confused mess of systems that chugs along with the weight of itself, but not implicitly one without purpose.

Sort of like the planet exploration too. In this day and age, making a space game almost has to come hand-in-hand with exploration, and it's evident that the weight of open-world exploration isn't one Starfield could technically deliver on with its constraints. Every planetary area is limited and auto-generated on entry; it's not seamless like No Man's Sky, though it is technically very open-ended as you can land anywhere on the surface of a planet.

But the more I play of it the more I wonder...why would I? I can earn money for scanning everything on every planet, sure. But the wildlife is largely similar to one another on each planet. I've explored an "Abandoned Muybridge Pharmaceuticals Lab" and "Abandoned Mining Platform" about six times now. Every planet has roughly the same encounters, events and landmarks. It's probably more true to life or """NASAPUNK""" this way (I mean, most planets are definitely just going to be big empty rocks, right?) but functionally I have seen enough at this point that I feel no obligation to explore anymore. It clearly had this ambition to provide untethered space exploration and what it entails, but didn't seem interested enough in that to maintain that commitment longer than it needed to.

Even to the cities and populate locales this is an issue. I was admittedly shocked to learn that if I stood in the middle of a major metropolitan area and shot my guns at people's feet no one would bat an eye. Civilians would continue to go about their day, Security forces would continue their conversations. Unless you're explicitly murdering people, no one cares how loud or disruptive or hostile you seem in the cities in the game. In a world that visually feels so real and goes to great extents to claim it wants you feel like there are humans here, it certainly struggles to convince you of its humanity.

---

You can tell I've clearly been thinking about Starfield a lot. I have no idea why. As I said, I don't really like it nor do I dislike it. It's not incredibly noteworthy, and probably bound to be forgotten.

I think I'm captivated by it because I can see the work put into it - it's definitely the least buggy Bethesda games I've ever played (an impressive feat for a game so large in scale), and there's a lot of heart to be found in certain moments of it. I didn't work on it and likely will never know exactly what happened in its production but to me it feels like evidence that a game can be technically impressive, with a huge budget and good design choices, but if the high-level vision of the game can't be established or maintained throughout it then it's only going to struggle to remember what it's trying to be.

I can't stop thinking about Todd Howard's description of the game's premise, and how it perfectly summarizes my feelings on Starfield: "And now man is living amongst the stars: what does that mean?".

Though Todd probably felt that Starfield was supposed to be the answer to that question, it really feels like Starfield ended up being that question in itself.

You're right Todd, "what does that mean?".

[sonicasura]

In the TFP X Poppy Playtime Crossover, I spoke of the Burns family and some their take of what happened in Playtime Co. but what about the rest of the Rescue Bots and maybe even Cody?

No one was ready for the absolute bombshell Optimus dropped on them. Heatwave absolutely has a soft spot towards children so hearing about what Playtime Co had done... They should consider themselves lucky he hadn't gotten to them instead of the toys. He agreed for his team to safety transport the group.

Chase was absolutely conflicted as laws are something he upholds the most. However he does give the toys a chance because there wasn't exactly anything they could do at the time. A hostage situation with no one there to rescue them.

Boulder is absolutely heartbroken hearing about what happened. He helps construct the toys a new home and provide extra stuff like books or art supplies. Boulder also asks Optimus permission to establish chances to visit.

Poor Blades has mixed feelings. The entire situation reminds him of the toy based horror movies he seen like Small Soldiers and Chucky. Blades does give the toys a chance as it wouldn't be fair to ignore the fact they were victims too.

Cody feels completely bad for them. Having a family full of rescuers gives someone a closer look into the potential horrors that involves a failed rescue. People can get hurt or die should help come too late. Cody can only wonder would things turn out better if someone else had saved them. For now, he decides to be pen pals with the toys and helps with any future improvements to their new homes.

[shivunin]

Hello friend! ✨

I can't decide between two prompts, so I'll give you both:

16. 'not wanting to let go' hug

35. cuddle pile

Both for whomever fit best! :)

Hello my dear! 💗 Thank you for the prompts---I got sucked in by the first one, so I'll post the second separately when I've had a moment to think.

Elvhen (source):

Dareth shiral: safe journeys

Tuelanen ama na: Creators protect you

(Hug Prompts---'not wanting to let go' hug)

The Last Minute

(Emmaera Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford | 996 Words | No warnings)

There was a small room just before the portcullis in Skyhold. 

It was intended for the sentries’ use and seldom frequented by anyone else. A table stood near the center, sturdy and comfortable enough to sit at with a cup of something fortifying when cold winds blew from outside the gates. There were pegs on the walls to hang one’s cloaks, necessary on watch but less useful in the rest of Skyhold, and a neat line of extra weapons in case of attack. Usually, there were a handful of Inquisition soldiers either mustering for their watch or returning from the same. 

Right now, the small room had been cleared for the Inquisitor and Commander. 

“We will not be long without you,” Cullen said. “I am certain we will see each other soon.”

“I know,” Lavellan said. She was already embracing him, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, but she held him more tightly at the words. When her cheek was pressed fully against his breastplate, Cullen rested a hand at the base of her neck and kissed the edge of her forehead. 

“There is nothing to worry over. We’ve reports from the advance scouts that the damage done to the camps of the enemy is extensive. Their supply lines are a mess, what weapons and shelter they do have are ruined, and—”

“I know, Cullen,” Emmaera interrupted, closing her eyes. “I’ve read the reports.”

“I am sorry,” Cullen sighed. “I don’t know what else to say. What would help?” 

“I wish I knew.” 

Lavellan breathed him in as if it was the last time, though it probably wasn’t. She’d read all of the reports herself just last night: they had a great many advantages on their side and the Red Templars had few. She’d severed their organization at the knees, had routed them at every turn and deprived them of any ally she could hunt down, and now…

She recalled what it had been like at Adamant Fortress. That had been the first battle she’d ever faced and the memory of it haunted her. Cullen had come away without a scratch, but her people—soldiers she’d seen as raw recruits—had not always fared so well. She thought of Emprise du Lion, where villagers screamed forever in red lyrium crystals grown from their bones. If she had any other choice, she would not face such a scene again. No—she would not have either of them face the horrors of battle, if she had a choice.

There was no choice. They had to go. That was what it meant to be what they were, Inquisitor and Commander. She could not shield him. Cullen could not shield her. 

It was past time to let go. There was an army waiting for him to lead them on. Emmaera held on anyway, the soft fabric of the mantle brushing against her ear, cool metal pressed against her cheekbone. 

What could she say? Nothing would change what came next. It was absurd to ask him to be safe; there would be no safety in this. She certainly couldn’t promise him the same. 

“We will see each other soon,” Cullen said again, and she lifted her head to look at him. He looked just as torn as she felt, tight lines at the corners of his eyes, mouth pressed into a grim line. When she loosened her arms to reach for his face, he did not let go of her. 

The kiss was harder than usual, as if by pressing their hopes and fears into each other they could somehow guarantee the truth of his words. When she sank back onto the flats of her feet, both of them were breathing harder. Still, he did not let go.

“You know what you’re doing,” she said, because she could not think of anything else to say. “I trust you. We’ll see each other again.” 

“We will,” he murmured, searching her eyes. 

Outside, she could hear a great many people moving, horses whickering and moving into the stone chamber that preceded the portcullis. Everyone else was ready. They had no choice but to be ready, too. When she moved to step back, he didn’t let go. 

“You are strong,” he said. “I have seen you fight. You will be fine.” 

Emmaera searched for a smile to give him and found it at last, tucked beneath the memory of his hands holding hers in the sunlight of the garden. They would see each other again. This wouldn’t be the last time.

“I will be better than fine,” she told him. “Dareth shiral, vhenan. Tuelanen ama na.” 

Cullen nodded solemnly, though she supposed he didn’t know the particulars of what she’d told him. He loosened his arm at last, then stepped back and straightened his mantle. 

“Inquisitor,” he said. 

Emmaera smoothed her hair and turned to the door that led to the courtyard. 

“Commander. I know you will secure a victory for the Inquisition.” 

“If it is at all within my power, Inquisitor, I will bring you victory,” he said, pausing before the doorway to press a fist to his chest. 

He was folded into the crush of people quickly, though she saw the slash of red when he mounted a horse and nudged it into a trot on the far side of the courtyard. Columns of people were spilling from the castle, all focused on the road ahead. If she stood on the ramparts, she knew she would see much the same from the camps in the valley below. The Inquisition marched for the Arbor Wilds; it was a huge thing, much larger than two small lives. 

She did not go to the ramparts. Instead, she stood in the room for a moment longer, fingers wrapped around the coin in her pocket. 

He said he would bring me victory, she thought, alone in the small room. Not the Inquisition. Me. 

Heart aching, the Inquisitor stepped away at last and sought her own companions for the journey ahead.

[genshinemblem564]

Chapter 8: The Flames

TW: Depictions of burnt corpses

You, Aether, and the others rushed to the assembly grounds.

Anna: Listen up troops! The eastern reaches of Askr are under attack! They're targeting Gnótthæð

Sharena: Is it Embla?

Anna: We don't know. The soldier who carried the report is unconscious... with terrible burns all over his body. In his suffering, he repeats one phrase again and again: "the flames..."

Alfonse: The flames...

Anna: We must find out what's going on. It's well past time we left. Make your preparations quickly and move out.

Noelle: I want to help as well, I know I'm not a knight of Askr, but I can't sit by while innocent people suffer.

(Y/N): Hey, I won't say no to extra help, but if things start to look bad, you get out of there. You may be capable, but you're also our guest. If anything happens to you, then that would reflect on us. Also, Breidablik's special capabilities only work on heroes who have formed a contract with its weilder, and there are no teleport waypoints or Statues of the Seven here. If you fall out there, that's it, the end of your road. That also goes for anyone else who wishes to volunteer.

Albedo: If you're that worried, why not form a contract with us?

(Y/N): I'm afraid it's not that simple. When a hero is summoned and a contract is formed, time stops in that hero's world so that they may aid us without repercussions. That cannot be the case if a contract is formed with someone from the same world as ours. For any of you to form a contract with us would mean to be suddenly pulled away from your duties.

Albedo: We already go through that for their grace.

(Y/N): But are you willing to go through that for us.

Everyone silently ponders.

(Y/N): You don't need to decide now. Everyone who is coming, make your preparations.

On the way to Gnótthæð, Kaeya approaches you.

Kaeya: So what can you tell me about our destination

(Y/N): Gnótthæð is a farming village. If our enemy is Embla, then it is likely they're preparing for another war by targeting our food supplies.

Kaeya: I see. You didn't mention the possibility of brigands.

(Y/N): You heard commander Anna. No brigand pyre could cause such mental scarring. I've got a bad feeling about all of this.

Your March soon comes to a halt as you arrive at what once was Gnótthæð village.

Alfonse: What... has happened? This place was famous for its bountiful farmlands, but you'd never know it now.

Sharena: We... we used to come here with Mother when we were children... This is a cruel rebuke to my memories. Beyond cruel...

Anna: Alfonse! Sharena! Be on your guard! The enemy is here!

As Anna stated, your enemy made themselves known. Three Emblian soldiers came forward and were swiftly defeated.

Anna: They're marching under the Emblian banner, that's certain.

Sharena: So it is Embla that's behind this. I'll never forgive them.

Albedo: These flames, shouldn't they be dying down?

Sucrose: I believe so, yes.

Alfonse: The prophecy... can it be?

(Y/N): What prophecy?

Alfonse: A very old prophecy that tells of the end of the world. "Cloaked in flame, he crosses the sea, unquenchable, insatiable, undying flame. Trees fall, mountains burn, steam billows. The seas are swallowed. The stars become cinders, and the moon falls from the sky. The world, devoured by flame, smolders out."

Paimon: Smolders out... AS IN DESTROYED!?

(Y/N): We need to learn more. Let's split into groups. Group A will focus on combating the enemy troops, Group B will focus on finding any survivors they can.

Bennett: Hey, Razor, you've got a good nose. Can you sniff out any survivors?

Razor: Flames burning too high. All Razor smell is ash.

Group A: Anna, Sharena, Alfonse, Kaeya, Beidou, Razor

Group B: (Y/N), Aether, Kazuha, Bennett, Noelle, Albedo, Sucrose, Mona

(Y/N): It was still a good idea Bennett, and it would have worked in any other scenario.

Bennett: Enough about that, we've got people to save.

Bennett rushes to the first area to begin searching with the others. You notice Kazuha is trying extra hard to focus.

(Y/N): What's up?

Kazuha: It's no use. The wind is of no aid to me here. If it were to whip up here, it would only serve to fan these flames, putting us and any survivors in greater peril.

(Y/N): It's okay. If I were relying on your attunement alone, I wouldn't have suggested we split into groups.

Kazuha nods and continues searching. Time passes, and not one survivor found. Only the charred remains of unrecognizable bodies looking more akin to a burnt log than a human.

Paimon: Oh. Paimon's seen plenty of tragic tales unfold while accompanying the Traveler, but did no one survive this?

Aether: I've seen many things, but this honestly makes my stomach turn.

Anna: Everyone, we're almost at the area the report came from. Get ready.

Everyone readies themselves, both physically and mentally. When you reach your destination, you are met with a shocking sight.

Anna: You! Tell me your name and affiliation. Wait a minute. Who do you think you are?

Sharena: Two commander Annas?

(Y/N): Or a shape-shifter more likely.

???: My, you are quick, aren't you?

The being changes form before your eyes.

Loki: I am Loki, loyal servant to His Royal Highness, King Surtr. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm even more pleased to bid you farewell. Though I must apologize, I suppose. You'll be dying here. Oh, but just look at how many of you there are. I'll need a bit more muscle to even the odds.

With that, Loki waved her staff and summoned what appeared to be 20 soldiers. The soldiers all rush at your group.

(Y/N): Kazuha! Sucrose! Scatter them!

Both Kazuha and Sucrose use their Eskils. Sucrose summons a whirling vortex that knocks the enemies flat, while Kazuha pulls the rest in before launching them and himself into the air, which he takes advantage of by performing a powerful plunge attack. The others swoop in to deal with their foes while their stunned, finishing five of them, while the rest recovered. The battle seemed to only amp up from there as these remaining soldiers were agile. As an on field tactician, it's your job to call out any threats to your allies while not neglecting your own safety. As you're fending away one soldier, you spot another charging for...

(Y/N): NOELLE!!

The young trainee didn't even seem to react. It was only after you saw her Breastplate shield come up that you breathed a sigh of relief before being assaulted by another soldier. Whoever this enemy is, they have certainly heard about you. Maybe it was because you were distracted or maybe their just stronger, but this soldier wasn't dealt with as easily as the last. Aether saw you struggling and slashed the soldier across the back, allowing you to push them away and finish them with a shot from Breidablik. Kaeya was in the zone, 3 enemies charge him and he swings his sword so that it moves through every gap in their defenses (rather impressive for someone wearing an eyepatch). Bennett tried his best to help, but he was scared his vision, and bad luck, would only make the fire worse, and when you rely on something as much as a vision, you tend to be lacking in skill, unless you're an avid study of your preferred weapon that is. Two soldiers had him cornered, and as one was about to strike, Beidou swooped in and countered with her Tidecaller, and because it was a counter, it powered up enough to finish them off.

Beidou: I gotcha kid. Don't worry.

Bennett: Thanks.

Sharena, Alfonse, and Anna were in perfect sync and decimated 4 soldiers sequentially. Albedo was watching as two soldiers were charging at him, so focused on him, they didn't bother to watch their step. Albedo activates his Burst, causing Fatal blossoms and Geo crystals to burst from beneath his would be assailants. Mona was more annoyed than anything, having only dealt with one.

Mona: These soldiers are using the burning buildings as cover. HOW IS MY HYDRO NOT PUTTING OUT THAT INFERNAL BLAZE?!

Razor dealt with the final few by unleashing his own burst, swinging his claymore at speeds that shouldn't be possible for a human, a normal one at least, but there's nothing normal about this lot.

(Y/N): That seems to be all of them. Now, where's Loki?

Aether: It seems she may have slipped away in the chaos.

(Y/N): (sigh) Well, I suppose that's all we can do here. Come on, let's... Huh?

Breidablik was reacting to something nearby, emitting a light in a particular direction.

Paimon: Uh, is that normal?

(Y/N): No, this is new.

You decide to follow the trail that the divine weapon was providing you, and at its end, you found a girl, unconscious and in need of medical attention, but alive. You're glad to find SOMEONE alive in this place, you don't want to imagine everyone's reactions if you hadn't, especially the youths amongst you. You bringer to the others and explain what happened, and you all agreed to bring her back to base.

___________________________________________

Sorry this took some time to complete, I'm new to writing in general, so writing a fight scene, especially one with so many characters, was challenging. Also, I don't have some of these characters, so I hope I got their skills and bursts right.