#I watched the entirety of death note this way bc a girl I had a crush on was obsessed with it

[magical-grrrl-mavis]

#I watched the entirety of death note this way bc a girl I had a crush on was obsessed with it

[levi-heichous]

i'm a criminal ( i'll take your heart & go ) part 2

part 1 here!! 

pairing: levi x f!reader, erwin x f!reader ( NOT a 3some situation )

word count: 8.6k

content: oral sex ( f receiving ), breeding, infidelity??, lots of drama & angst, daddy kink ( not for levi i'm SORRY ), use of "whore" as unsexy degradation

author’s note: i decided to mix 2 requests into one story because they seemed to harmonise really well! once again, a big shoutout to the requests that were sent to create this story  ( 1 & 2 [ the second request of anon #2 also played a big part in this storyline, but i'll be posting the message in the next part because of spoilers!!!!!] )! 

part 3 to be released in the future! ( i don't wanna say "soon" bc it took me forever to publish this chapter )

mature content. 18+. minors do not interact.

as you lay in bed with captain levi, drawing hearts with your fingertip into the skin of his bare back that faces you, you wonder if time itself can truly heal your scars. the pad of your finger traces over textured skin every time you pass by a healed scratch or gash ( there's plenty on the captain's entire body ) and you see that time doesn't actually heal. it just patches things up to be acceptable, but never the same.

you love levi and he loves you, too. you no longer feel like you belong to the jealousy and greed he's harboured over the past few years; you truly belong to him as a person, not just property. will this suffice as time passes or is this feeling, too, just a temporary fix for the problems you've encountered with him in the past?

you clearly remember the day when commander erwin stomped into the girls' sleeping quarters and had to watch captain levi slowly pull out of you and shove himself back into his pants ( shamelessly, you might add ). instead of blowing up in front of the entirety of the soldiers, the two of them went upstairs to have a civil discussion instead, in which levi counted out and named the cadets that erwin has meddled with since he was put into power. there weren't many, but there was more than the one ( you ) that captain levi ended up with. with the commander's blessing ( read: tolerance ), the captain was happy to have your things moved to his room where you would be allowed to stay during your time as a cadet.

though there was bliss emanating from the both of you, an obstacle that made itself too well known not too long after was the fragility of human life. even with captain levi's presence, the number of close calls was much too high. there were bigger, more important things that captain levi had to prioritise than you when you're out in battle, but he ended up jeopardising them a few times in order to save your life.

a rather ruinous injury in the battlefield had you assigned to bedrest for a month and levi was almost foaming at the mouth as he argued with his commander for hours to retire you. calmly, commander erwin argued that if you weren't part of the survey corps, your presence would no longer be required at the headquarters, so a compromise was met: you were given the title of an honorary survey corps member and you were henceforth a glorified maid. it was clear from the start that fighting titans wasn't sustainable for you and, if anything, you're almost relieved, elated even, about your injury. the only way you'll find yourself in 3d manoeuvre gear again is if there really were no more soldiers left to fight, so death can only come if there was a titan invasion that reached all the way to the survey corps headquarters.

with your new title, it was all too easy to learn how to meet your lover's standards. you were someone who enjoyed cleaning ( the alternative was much worse ) — no groaning or dragging feet when asked to wipe down his office or any other room for that matter. not only were you willing, you were good at it, and these two features are not often found together. if he thought he loved you before...

"stop it. it.. feels weird." a groggy voice washes away the reminiscing and you can't help but smile as you lean in and press a kiss to levi's shoulder.

"why do you have such an aversion to saying it tickles?" in the past, you've tried moving your fingertips along his sides, even going so far as to test his feet, armpits, and tummy, too — but to no avail would he ever admit that he's ticklish.

"because it doesn't, brat." he turns over and, contrary to his annoyed voice, his eyes are warm, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "just because you're ticklish doesn't mean everyone is."

the rolling of your eyes is so easily suspected and he combats it by pressing his lips against yours, scooting closer so he can have your chest flush against his. ever since you've moved in, levi enforced a policy of sleeping nude for easier access each night and morning. the only time he ever thought about retracting it was when you were too comfortable in your bare state and opened the door like that for commander erwin — he left levi's room without even saying what he came to discuss and his cheeks burning bright red.

"should i also start tickling you now to see how you react, sweetheart?" his long fingers reach up to hover above your neck, but you're already cringing and wailing for him to stop. muffling a smug laugh, he replaces his fingertips with his mouth instead and leans in to grab a patch of skin with his teeth where he noticed your usual purple and pink faded to light green, suckling down on it as he trails his fingertips along your protruding clavicle, then down to your chest where he gropes at your plentiful flesh with a soft groan.

"don't you have some drills to oversee?" you mutter with no intention of actually letting him leave; you know damn well he doesn't care about having to watch a bunch of sweaty kids exercise. as if your body's been trained ( it may as well have been with how frequent your escapades with levi are ), you part your legs to wrap one around both of his and pull him closer until you can grind your leaking slit against his thigh. the warm and wet feeling forces a growl to build in his chest and he wastes no time in grabbing a handful of your ass this time, nails digging into the plush skin.

"yes, but i think the drilling you and i are thinking of are quite different," he murmurs against your damp skin. "besides, you wouldn't want me out there frustrated and still horny, do you? imagine how much more running i'll make the cadets do, just to watch—" you cut him off with a sneaky squeeze to his tip and he only laughs in response, somehow entertained by the idea of him being creepy.

"you're so mean sometimes... do you like it when i get jealous or something?" but you already know the answer. though he'd never entice those feelings from you to the same degree he did before, he likes seeing you nestle against him like your rubbing will mark him, or the way your hand squeezes tighter when you two walk by christa; not to mention how much more enthusiastic your hips are when you ask to be on top that night when these things happen.

levi only offers you a knowing grin and he pulls back so you can see it, pushing your shoulder down to keep you flat on the bed as he kisses the tip of your nose. he stares into your eyes for a moment, enjoying the proximity and tenderness of getting to be with you like this. his breath is tangible on your mouth too and you lean up to steal a kiss, earning you another wide smile before he trails kisses down the expanse of your chest, stomach, then the area just above your folds.

oh, he loves stalling and watching you become riled up underneath him. his hands grab the outside of your thighs and he scoots back so he's on his knees, but his torso is close to the bed, head resting on the inside of one of your legs. he's so close, but he's denying you any chance to actually feel him where you're starting to need it the most.

"levi," you grumble, reaching a feeble hand out to try and grab his hair, but it gets shot down in an instant. his eyes are locked on to your puffy slit and the way your nectar glistens with the help of the warm sunlight that illuminates it — the most tempting meal he's ever laid eyes on.

not a second longer is he able to resist, so he indulges himself and dips his head to lick a thick stripe from the bottom of your cheeks, all the way up to your hooded clit, making sure the very tip of his tongue lingers against the sensitive nerves. already, you're squirming and clenching your fists by your side, your lips whispering little pleas of more, more, more. though he acts as if your words and cute little antics fall on deaf ears and blind eyes, he can't hide the way his cock twitches and starts to drip onto his sheets, nor the way his nails start to dig into your skin as he laps his way down to the origin of your sweet honey. his lewd slurps are embarrassingly loud and his accompanying moans are as well, sounding more like he's stumbled upon a world renowned chef's cooking, but your noises are no longer held back and challenge his as your back arches so you lean your hips forward just a bit more to have the tip of his nose press against your throbbing clit.

a large hand hits the side of your ass before he presses down harshly on your tummy to keep you down; he's in control right now. despite not meeting his eyes, you can feel his glare and you try to look anywhere else, but he won't relent unless you give in — you know this. the lifting of his face is felt instantaneously and you panic to look at him now, and only when your eyes meet does he lower himself back down to continue licking up each drop of your slick. this time, his tongue delves inside of you and it's velvet against velvet, the vibrations of his feral moans only driving you closer and closer to ecstasy. the palm on your stomach disappears until all you feel are a few rough fingertips that trail up and down the expanse of your torso to elicit goosebumps as he devours you deeper and more sloppily. his spit is no longer controllable as it mixes with your juices and he finally brings his other hand to press a thumb against your clit, skillfully rubbing it in the circles you taught him to draw months ago.

your release comes suddenly and without warning, but your screams and his name coming off your lips at such a volume make him forgive you right away, his mouth still working on the new influx of your sweet juice until he's satisfied and you're no longer at risk of dripping onto his bed ( not that it matters when he's been ruining it himself ).

"good girl," he murmurs, pushing himself up on his knees whilst wiping his mouth with his wrist. the sun shines from behind in such a way that has him absolutely glowing, as if he's surrounded by an aura; if he asked you right now what you think god looks like, you'd answer that it must be him. isn't levi your god anyways when you worship every inch of him and blindly follow his laws without complaint?

the compliment makes your cheeks burn even deeper with scarlet and you smile down at him, elbows propped up and holding the brunt of your weight with your chest heaving up and down as you catch your breath.

levi shifts to move his back against the wall so his legs are spread out and feet are almost touching the long edge of the bed ( it's adorable that his legs aren't long enough to reach the end, but you'd never say it out loud ).

"c'mere, sweetheart," he coos for you, patting his thick and muscled thighs with his palms to show you your seat. without another thought, your achy joints move to obey so you're straddled on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck. almost instantly, your face finds the crook of his neck and nuzzles for warmth and comfort, his musky smell almost intoxicating, even after all this time you've spent together. his cock is weeping as it slaps against your tummy and he moves his palm around it in uneven strokes, filling the room with the wet sounds of his indecent act, but it only makes you hungrier for him. you want — no, you need it.

"levi, please," you whisper. even from down here, you can feel the way his jaw tenses with his all-too-wide smile — he wants to hear more. "please fuck me... i miss you! it's been too long and i want you to make me feel full. didn't you say you wanted to fill me with your child? this time is it, i know it. god, please—"

it's only been a few hours since he was last inside of you, but the way you still crave him and are willing to let him achieve his wildest dreams with you makes you irresistible to him. the growl in his chest is riveting and your mouth parts even before he enters you, but when he does, you're in the perfect disposition to whimper out his name. time and time again, he fills you to the brim and even tries to go deeper until his tip is kissing the entrance of your cervix, his cock's crown creating a tiny, but visible bulge at the bottom of your tummy, and yet, your walls create an iron vice that tests his self-control and the pressing urge to just spill inside of you — this time is no different.

in no time at all, sweat mats his bangs to his forehead and he’s panting hard. his fingers are bruising around your hips and he loves the colour that blooms in the shape of his phalanges every so often, today most likely being one of them. each push inside of you is another sound of a wet slap that ricochets off the wooden walls, barely doing anything to cover up his animalistic grunts and your pathetic whimpers. shaking, your palms snake their way to his full cheeks and you lift them up just a bit so he takes the hint to let his eyes meet yours. once they do, you smile and lean in for a sweet kiss, letting your hips move to the rhythm of his whilst he swallows each of your lewd moans. he’s close already, but he doesn’t want to let go of you or pull away from your suffocating heat; tightening his thighs and pressing his feet into the mattress, he wraps an arm around your waist to lift you up and lay you down on the bed, all while keeping himself buried inside of you.

now that you’re beneath him, a wicked smile turns his lips crooked and he lifts each of your legs to have them bend, the backs of your thighs against his chest and your calves on his shoulders. essentially folding you as far as you can go, he begins to piston in and out of you once more, a possessive hand resting on your stomach.

“that’s right, my angel. this is the day we start to see your belly grow. what’re we gonna name the little brat?” he sounds so amused, but the way he clenches his teeth and furrows his brows are a telling sign that he’s about to finish. you only want to assist and make it all the better, to make his words come true, so you loop your arms around your thighs to spread them wider and keep them closer to you, offering every last millimetre of yourself that you can. once again, your zeal proves to him that there’s no one greater in this world deserving of him or all the potential children he's about to spill into you. one final slam of his hips against yours, his heavy balls hitting the curve of your ass as he empties them inside of you sends him falling on top of your chest, his moist forehead pressed to the bed. you can actually feel the throbbing of his tip and the pool that drowns your clenched velvet walls as he spurts every last drop he can ( it’s a miracle that he has anything left, let alone so damn much, when you consider just how often you two are intimate ), allowing you to milk him for all he’s worth. 

“oh, fuck,” he mutters, the feeling of your mixed juices growing uncomfortable when he thinks he can actually notice every drop that drips down the line of your ass and onto his once pristine sheets. with a deep inhale, he ( reluctantly ) pulls out of you and you whine in response to the emptiness, but he’s quick to shush you as he quickly plugs two of his fingers inside instead, fucking his cum deeper and more thoroughly inside of you. “waste not, want not.”

you understand that his goal is to actually put a baby in you, but your insatiable core starts to heat up again with the way his fingertips must be purposely brushing against that special spot buried inside of you  — a single chuckle from him is the telltale sign that you’re actually right. the devil he is, he decides to pursue one more sweet orgasm from you and continues to scissor his digits, feeling the resistance of your cavern, which boggles him; he just had you stretched to the size of his notable girth and yet, you were still so fucking tight. there's no time to waste ( he can hear the cadets asking where the captain is outside ) and he pumps in and out of you quickly, lingering his calloused fingertips against your bundle of nerves as he also works your clit with the pad of his thumb. your breath grows quicker and he relishes in the sight of your tits bouncing with each exhale as you buck your hips, desperate for release.

"that's right, sweetheart. unwind on my fingers." on command, you squeeze around him, almost unbearably so, and you hear a groan from him mix in with your loud keening. he watches with utter excitement as you spurt onto the bed and make an absolute mess for him. "that's my girl."

his beloved sheets are an absolute mess, but so is his angel, and that's all he could've asked for on a sunny sunday morning.

꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏

after a peaceful hour and some of laying on the filthy bed together, an obnoxiously loud knock at the door turns levi's serene smile into a hostile grimace and he kisses your forehead before he hops out of bed, dressing himself because he knows exactly who it is ( if it was erwin, he wouldn't mind opening the door nude with your juices still glistening on him ).

"what, shitty glasses?"

hange's face is uncharacteristically pale and she stutters, uncomfortable with whatever is she's supposed to spit out.

"is she here?" she tries to lean around to see if you're present and when she catches a glimpse of your foot or arm or whatever it is on the bed, she pulls levi out of the room by his shirt collar. "you have to come with me. now."

the captain doesn't even get to bid you a good day before the door is slammed shut, but you're smiling anyways. it wasn't unlike hange to drag whoever was closest into her dungeon to showcase the latest results of her titan experiments.

with a big stretch and clicking joints, you get up to start your day, too. the headquarters was such a big building with only one person hired to clean ( unless captain levi knew a guest was coming or in 'a mood' ), leaving you with little to no free time when the other cadets were hard at work, too. you always start with levi's office and work your way up, then back down to the shared spaces for the cadets. today, just like every other day, you're off to start the cozy routine you've created.

꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏

levi now comprehends why hange looked as if she had seen a ghost and he only mirrors the lack of blood in his features right now. he's actually seeing a ghost, listening to it speak utter nonsense with the intent to haunt him. 

"don't you remember what you told me? what you promised me? our child growing up with humanity's strongest soldier as a father and a noblewoman as a mother! it's going to be the most envied child inside the walls! oh, and that property that we talked about, too? my father kicked off all the people living on it and it's been cleaned thoroughly so we can start our family there any day now, you just say the word!" she drones on in her irritatingly peppy tone about nonsense that would never come true, about a reality that levi would rather die than live in. this isn't what he wanted and he was admittedly the irresponsible one for thinking he could get away with it. "and besides, it'll be good for you and the survival of the survey corps! maybe you can be promoted to commander, too! the king said he was itching to get rid of the survey corps before my father told him about us...."

ever since he fucked the stranger on the night of the military ball, permanently on his shoulders was the heavy weight of guilt from his actions and the way he handled things. though he told her that they probably wouldn't see each other again, she didn't seem to get the hint, even with so many unopened letters that levi refused to acknowledge or reply to. every time you'd see the envelope addressed to him, you'd see the pain in his eyes as he crumpled it up and tossed it in the garbage bin and you— you. you've been as sweet as ever, comforting him and telling him that you forgive him for his unfathomable actions. you'd kiss his lips just as lovingly, suck his soul out of his cock like your life depended on it, and still hold him close as you drift to sleep. it took a bigger toll on you to worry and start an argument where there was no victor, so you learned to comfort him and watch him unwind, watch your mercy make him love you more and try harder to be deserving of your soft heart.

he doesn't want to think about how actually seeing this woman might make all of that go away — make you go away. as if her physical presence wasn't enough, the ever so visible bump where her stomach is is... upsetting. levi feels sick to his stomach and he can already see the never ending tears streaming down your cheeks when you realise that he has a baby, just not with you. his will to live just plummeted underground and he wants nothing to do with this entire situation.

"anyways," he hopes to god that at least hange was paying attention while he was contemplating how to get eaten by a titan during the next expedition, "i'll be back in a week or so with the official letter and papers for our marriage, levi. signed by the king and everything! i'll see you then and don't forget to put on your best suit because my father will be here, too." she reaches a hand out to try and hold his, but before there's any skin to skin contact, he already feels like he's been burnt, whipping his hand away from her as quickly as possible.

"don’t come back," is all he offers her and he pushes the chair he's on with an achingly loud scraping noise, turning away before she even makes a move to actually leave or come closer. he turns the knob, but sees that there was no need — the door wasn't actually closed — and he slams the wood open as far as it can go, as hard as he can. on his first step out of hange's stuffy office, he sees your face, also devoid of colour and your hands gripping a feather duster to the point of your knuckles turning white.

as if things couldn't get worse.

you don't even look at him, only a far, far object that you can't even really see, but god, anything to avoid meeting his eyes. even as he grabs your face, shakes you a little bit, and shoves his face into your vision, your eyes don't focus, as if your soul had left your body.

"hey. please talk to me." still nothing. levi doesn't care that the foul woman only a few feet away can see as he tries to kiss you, like you're some cursed princess and he's the only way to turn you back into a human. "sweetheart," he whispers, the desperation oozing from his voice so tangible.

is this it? does he lose you forever?

"baby, look at me." his voice cracks and you've never heard him so heartbroken before, it brings your body to wrap around him out of instinct more than anything, gaze finally finding his. "how much of that did you get?"

still too stunned to actually speak or fully comprehend what's going on, you shrug your shoulders because you truly, really don't know. moisture gathers in your eyes without you even noticing and only when levi's rough thumbs wipe them away do you realise that you've been crying.

"it's nothing — she's nothing. you're the only one that matters to me." his small frame starts trembling and the hold his hands have on you is becoming to grow painful. "if i can't have a future with you, all my work so far has been for nothing. it has to be you for me, no one else." he's pouring out his heart and reaffirming the idea that the only future he sees is with you; these are words he's sleepily murmured to you as you drift to sleep, especially on days when you'd feel inadequate, but they don't comfort you as they once did. how could they when you see the end of all things good for you and the captain in that room? the protective hands on her stomach and sick, twisted smile that's pointed directly at you. levi might've used her to forget you, but she came back to ensure that you're the one forgotten.

"i... have to go," your voice sounds foreign to you and when you pull away from him, it’s as if you can still feel his presence on your cheeks and, oh, how you dearly wish it was still there. you’re not even sure where to go or where you can go without him breaking the door in to hold you, but you try anyways. the fear of footsteps being right behind you disappears as you run down the stairs and when you realise that no one’s chasing after you, you’re not sure if you’re glad that levi’s giving you space or if you’re upset that he isn’t fighting enough by letting you roam free. the dissonance doesn’t last very long with the image of the woman’s stomach holding her child — levi’s child — becomes the only thing you can think of as you quietly sob to yourself in the corner of the empty dining hall, broken down and holding your knees to your chest. 

the pain of your heart clenching is almost unbearable and you think to how levi promised you similar things with you, too: getting married ( he talked about it being just a piece of paper, since he already knew he was bonded to you for life ), having children, and hopefully having enough stability in the future to retire and live on a quiet piece of farmland. your palms fall to your stomach and your lower lip trembles as your blurry vision sees the expanse of your body that levi claimed and sowed, but wasn’t able to reap. your head leans against the wall and you stare at the lines of tables beside you, blinking and breathing growing slower as you berate yourself with thoughts of not being good enough to have levi’s child and not loving him enough, allowing the woman to think that she had any authority to waltz in here, demanding levi’s hand in marriage. the last thing you ask yourself before you drift off is if the bliss you’ve felt in the past few months was worth the agonising pain you’re feeling now... and you aren’t sure what your answer is. 

꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏

it isn’t clear how long you’ve been asleep, but your ass is sore and your joints ache as your limbs spread out on top of the arms that carry you so easily. slowly, your lids flutter open and you see a mess of blond hair, along with the sharp features of the commander as he climbs up the stairs with you in his hold as if you were nothing more than a sack of flour. 

“s-sir?” 

“i couldn’t leave you on the floor like that. what would levi say if he found you instead of me?” his voice is gruff as he shoves the door of his room open and sets you down on his bed. rather than pacing like he wants to, he crosses his arms over his broad chest as he takes a seat on the chair for his desk adjacent to his bed, his posture immaculate. “he’s gotten himself into quite the predicament, i heard.”

you want to tell him that he’s right and that it’s such a shitty situation that levi himself created, and to tell him the jumbled mess of thoughts that bounce around in your head, but you can’t. you’re still frozen in place, only having moved to rest your back against the wall to sit up and face him. 

“what do you want him to do?” erwin knows that silence might be the only thing to come from you for a while, so he gets comfortable, folding one leg over the other as he leans back and relaxes just a bit. “if he goes with his heart, it’ll be the end of the survey corps and we’ll be left to join the military police, achieving nothing until we’re all eaten by titans... but if he does the logical thing, he’ll save us all, but live an unhappy life.” he muses to himself, expression growing amused. 

even after hearing what hange had to say, he never had time to dissect the issue out loud — how could he when levi started breaking anything and everything fragile within his reach? for now, the small man was sedated with a small dose of tranquiliser for the horses, his brows furrowed, even in a forced state of unconsciousness; an extreme that hange never thought she'd have to execute on levi of all people. 

you break your silence with a faint whisper that erwin struggles to hear.

“i know what he has to do... but i don’t want to live without him, sir.” slowly, as if your limbs were frozen and you’re slowly able to break the ice that kept you from moving, you hug your knees to your chest again, resting your chin on top of your folded legs. “am i being selfish?” the answer is obvious, but perhaps you just need someone who personifies the voice of reason to tell you it. 

“by definition, yes; you’re being quite selfish. isn’t it levi’s and your feelings versus the fate of humanity sitting in your palm? two versus many thousands.” the commander switches his legs and raises a hand to stroke his chin in between his fingers. “though, i will admit that levi’s work ethic might plummet and there’s a very big possibility that he’ll charge straight into a hoard of titans just to avoid returning home. that wouldn’t be very good, either.” 

you nod in agreement to every word he uttered because he’s right. when is the commander ever wrong? 

“go talk to him.” erwin stands now and pushes the chair back into its original place, stalking towards you and helping you off his bed with a gentle hand. “make sure you and levi have a final answer, and if things don’t turn out the way you want them to, you can come to me. this is the one room levi wouldn’t dare try to break into.” 

“thank you, sir,” you mutter, offering a faint smile as you leave the cosy confines of the commander’s room and to the icy, dark one at the end of the corridor. you predict that you’ll be knocking on erwin’s door again soon enough. 

꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏

the first thing you notice when you open the door is the amount of porcelain and books that litter the wooden floor. none of the items seem to be your things though, so you’re hoping that all this anger he was letting out isn’t pointed at you. the next thing you see is levi’s body laid out on the bed, fully clothed — very unlike him. 

with careful footing, you make your way over to the bed and climb in beside him. as much as your chest seems to be in an indefinite state of pain and that this will only prolong it, you want to indulge, even just for one more moment. your arms snake around his thin waist and you rest your head on his shoulder as your eyes begin to weep without any command. 

the feeling of your trembling body is enough to have him snap out of his nightmare and he looks down at you with the slightest bit of confusion.

“sweetheart,” he breathes, wrapping you up in his arms immediately. “i had the worst dream ever...” when you meet his eyes, he sees the red rimming yours and his brows furrow immediately. who made you cry? and slowly, the memories of smashing everything of his in sight comes back, the meeting with hange and erwin, with hange and that disgusting whore. he grows dizzy instantly, but his hold on you never falters. "sweetheart," he whispers again.

begrudgingly, you pull away and sit up with your legs crossed underneath you, fingers linked together and thumbs twiddling.

"levi... you know what you have to do," you mumble, but you don't agree with your own words. you're putting on a brave face for him because he needs it; he's weak. "it doesn't make sense to let everyone eventually die because of what you want."

what he wants, not what 'we' want.

"everyone is going to die eventually. what does it matter if it's sooner than later? what quality of life do humans even have like this? scared to go outside, starving on the streets? if i meet my end without you, i might as well have not lived at all." the anger from earlier prickles up his spine and he sits up with you now. "i need you and i don't care who i have to resist or kill to have you."

he'll fight for you. he'll kill for you. had this been any other turn of events, you would've thought it to be romantic and taken his hand in marriage right then and there.

"what if it's me that doesn't want that ending, though? what if i'm the one that's sending you to be with her because i want to?" oh, but it's so easy to see through your façade when you're sobbing and shaking like you are now. you're lying and it's so fucking obvious.

levi doesn't even acknowledge what you said — it's implausible and not worth expanding upon.

"we'll run away. i'll plan things with erwin so we'll always have gear and a place to stay... he'll help so no one can find us." he hasn't asked this of the commander yet, but the chances of him declining are so slim. "please, i can't live without you... i don't want to raise a child that isn't ours."

"so you'd be okay with letting that baby grow up without a loving father...? how did that work out for you?" the latter inquiry holds a lot more venom than you want it to and you want to indulge him — indulge yourself — by agreeing to the picture he's painting for you, but the intrusive thought of how he just parroted the same promises to some rich woman months ago, then to you, is something you can't ignore. "you... you cheated on me."

the pain that flashes in his eyes is unmistakable. for months, you've refused to talk about it and were adamant on forgiveness, nothing else, but today is the day you finally let him feel the gravity of his sins.

"you hated when i was just dancing with reiner, a friend, but you get to fuck a stranger and expect me to do nothing about it. if reiner was still around," you heard about reiner and his traitorous deeds and the truth about what he is, but you still mourned the loss of a good friend a while back, "would i get to fuck him, too? so we're even? i get to carry his child and marry him?"

you expect anger and even a slap to the face, but you only see the broken eyes of a man who has crumbled.

"i'd kill him. and i will once we catch up to him." his venomous words hold no poison, only defeat.

"then what about commander erwin?" your jaw flexes with tension. "at least we can trust him to take good care of me." it's your voice that's sharp and filled with irritation. "if i get to do the same with commander erwin and you still want me in the end, then i'll leave everything behind to be with you. i won't feel guilty about the child you're abandoning for your own selfish pleasure."

"okay." your eyes widen and you snap your head to the side to look at him, to look for any trace of a joking smile or just anything to see if he's just playing with you. but you're only met with saddened eyes and defeated, slumped shoulders. "i love you. i love you so much, i want to die. but you're right — i got myself into this mess and if those are your conditions, i'll wait. a year, five years, a decade. however long it takes. i'll wait for you, no matter what happens."

to say you're taken aback would be the understatement of the century.... but you're still trembling with unhappiness and you let your heart win over your head as you nod and get off the bed, fully intent on delivering on your promise to 'even things out.' when you've had time to calm down and think about what it is you're doing exactly ( maybe soon when commander erwin laughs at your silly proposal ), you'll find regret in your heart for what you've done. for now, you think yourself as level-headed and you leave the same way you came in, leaving the door to his messy room wide open.

꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏

"commander," you shout for him and knock your aching knuckles against his door impatiently. captain levi is only a few doors down and you know that he can hear what's transpiring.

"back so soon?" comes his deep voice with a rumbling laugh.

the regret you had saved up for later all comes rushing to you now as you twiddle your thumbs and try to think of a way to express whatever deal you made with levi that won't have the commander pushing you back towards the captain's room, demanding that you two just make up like two bickering kids.

"a-actually... there's something i need to talk to you about, sir... about levi and i— we came to a... a compromise." a thick eyebrow raises with curiosity and he ushers you back inside, shutting the door behind you. unknowing if your legs would be able keep from giving out underneath you, you sit on the bed as you did before, legs crossed under you and one hand on each of your knees. "if you could keep your questions until i'm done, sir... i think i'll lose my train of thought rather easily."

erwin nods and stays standing where he is beside the bed, arms crossed over his broad chest as he furrows his brows with concern.

"so... levi said," you're throwing him under the bus when it was your outrageous suggestion, "if i pursue the life he has with the noblewoman with you, and if i still want him after that, we can get back together. i-i'm not sure how far that means," but you can compromise with yourself, can't you? "as in if we have to get married or anything, and if you already have a wife or lover, i'm so sorry for even bringing this up, sir! i didn't— levi didn't really think it through..."

he looks as if he's digesting every word and turning them into sentences in his mind one by one, slowly understanding what levi ( you ) proposed.

"i'm surprised levi didn't mention that he knows i don't have a lover." dread starts to creep up your spine; maybe you should've left the commander out of this. of course he has a lot on his plate already, what good would the addition of more burdens do? "but i will admit, it's not because i'm celibate or abstaining. i've lost any cadet i've had a connection with in battle, so i gave up."

his arms uncross and he starts to kneel on the bed, hands reaching to rest on the mattress at either side of your hips, lips parted in a wide grin. he's close, too close for comfort.

"but i must also tell you that i've wanted a taste ever since levi started telling me about you. he'd tell me how sweet you are on his tongue during meetings about battle. in court, he whispered about how tight you squeeze his cock, even when you aren't cumming." his breath grows ragged and so does yours in response. "when we met with the head of the military police, he sent me a note with all the names you like to be called while being fucked and where to push and pull to have you moan like a bitch in heat."

your lids flutter and all you can smell is him, so manly and intoxicating. you've never thought of commander erwin as more than an authority figure, it's almost dizzying how quickly you're able to adopt him as a physical partner. he's the exact opposite of levi, your first and only: where levi is small, erwin is big, where levi is big, erwin's even bigger. the dark hair in your dreams is now replaced with shining gold and you fall victim to the seducing words of your commander.

"and now, he's conceding? after all that teasing, he's letting his sweet bunny run head first into the lion's den?" erwin lifts himself up to undo his belt, the sound of just the buckle making your thighs clench together. "he must really love you, and now it's my turn to experience why."

his mouth is on yours in an instant and you melt underneath him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he undresses himself until you decide that it's taking too long. clumsy, small fingers undo each knob from its clasp on his shirt, and it takes much longer than if he were to do it alone; his pants and underwear are already messily strewn on the floor ( another difference from levi — the smaller would fold it all neatly ) and he's waiting for you to finish with an amused, patient smile. only when you finish does he grab your wrists to settle them on your lap so he can shrug his shirt off himself, revealing broad shoulders and a torso filled with scars similar to levi's.

commander erwin is absolutely breathtaking in his naked glory, each of his flexing muscles bulging and just begging for you to worship them with your mouth.

"god," you whisper mindlessly. he's mesmerising without having to do anything.

the corners of his lips twitch with the urge to spread wider; it's been a while since he's had an intimate moment or heard himself being revered the way he likes. the sudden confession he made of wanting a taste of you was entirely true. it was difficult to watch you walk in the hallways without purposely inhaling deeper to take in your scent, to keep himself from asking levi if you tasted just as heavenly today when he'd come into a meeting with your nectar still staining his chin, both of your faces bright red.

erwin is a wise man; he won't take this moment for granted when levi could burst in at any moment to take you away.

"now let's see if the little one was exaggerating or not," his voice is playful, as is the gleam in his eyes, when he leans in to press his lips to yours. instantly, your lids flutter and you wrap your dainty arms around his neck to pull him closer, mouth parting to let him in, to let him wash away any trace of levi you'd had lingering on you. each flick of his tongue has you moaning underneath him and he picks you up so easily, resting your back on the bed so he's hovering over you, almost swallowing you up. the heat that pools in your stomach, in between your legs, is undeniable.

where levi's taste was sweet, the commander is heartier, as if levi was a freshly baked cake and erwin was a home-cooked meal fit for soldiers. levi would send you into a state of intoxicated dizziness, but erwin sends adrenaline rushing through your veins instead.

"sir," you breathe out in between loud, wet kisses, his large hands unclasping your buttons with much more fervour and accuracy than you did his. "a-are you sure?" but the question is more directed at yourself than him, and any resistance you've held on to slips away with your shirt and flimsy bra, to the floor with his discarded clothing as well.

"i think we're past formalities if we're soon to be wed, aren't we, darling? daddy doesn't mind." the single word has your head spinning and he takes this chance to slip off your pants and underwear off the long expanse of your legs, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder.

"daddy," your voice is a whisper and you throw the word out to give it a taste, see how it moulds on your tongue. it doesn't feel right at first, but when you see the beaming grin on erwin's face, you tell yourself that it's perfect. "daddy, i really... really want to feel you."

erwin knows that preparation is necessary, especially when dealing with someone of his girth and size, but your quiet begging, the title, the irresistible sight of you on his messy bedsheets... all the feedback he's gathered through a slew of previous partners gets thrown out the window as he lets lust overtake him. if anything, he'll have to blame levi for speaking of you in such a lewd manner so openly, making erwin's curiosity crash through the roof.

he only nods in response, a hand grabbing at the base of his length so he can give it a couple of steady strokes until he's ready to press against your dripping slit. as much as he knows that he has to prep you, make sure you're ready to take him, the temptation of your ring of muscle squeezing around his tip has his mask of self control faltering and he pushes into you crassly, the hand wrapped around his base steadying itself on your hip for balance.

the guttural moan that slips from his mouth makes your eyes fly up to meet his eyes that've rolled into the back of his head. with your small hands, you grab on to his biceps and dig your nails into his skin, lower lip caught in between your teeth as you hold back grunts of slight pain; he's big and you're sure that no amount of prior foreplay could've prepared you enough to take him without the burning sensation that paints you from the inside out right now.

"just like heaven," erwin murmurs to himself. he sits inside of you, tip already kissing your cervix, and once his shoulders are no longer tense, he returns his gaze to you and cups your cheek with a large, calloused hand. "you alright, darling?"

you nod just once, despite the tears that've yet to dry at your waterline.

"levi wasn't exaggerating in the least, sweetheart," he mumbles again, the mention of the onyx-haired man just a few doors away making your heart twinge with guilt — you've ruined yourself; you're not just his anymore....but it's what he deserves, right? critical thinking is an inaccessible skill at the moment and the pang of apologetic feelings flutter away when the commander — your commander — starts to move his hips, pumping in and out of you at his own brutal pace.

the sound of the headboard rocking against the wall is thunderous, as opposed to the creaks you're used to, and so are erwin's moans of your name over and over.

crystal blue eyes bore into yours, rendering you helpless as your limbs melt into jelly ( maybe the feeling of him pressing urgently into that spongy bundle of nerves inside of you have to do with it, too ). his stare is so intense and you feel as if you've never been so bare before, giving the entirety of your self to your commander, and he takes everything you have to offer.

his pearly whites grind together with sweat beading and dripping down his temple as he finds purchase on both your hips with both of his bruising hands.

"i'm gonna fill you up, doll," he grits out and his hips piston against yours, sending your back arching and vision fuzzy with the merciless pounding against the most sensitive corner of your clenched walls.

"d-daddy— oh, god," is all you can get out, nails digging into his arms once more as you feel yourself tighten around him, and with one last thrust inside of you, you can feel him spill inside just as you reach completion and become undone, like a ribbon on a present. toes clenched and back arched, sweat creating a slick dew on your entire body — erwin swears he's never seen a sight so perfect and wills himself to commit what lies underneath him to memory.

"fucking beautiful," he whispers, chest heaving with deep breaths. slowly, he slips out of you, not without a groan, and you feel the loss instantly, clamping your legs together with embarrassment.

the bed thumps and bounces beside you as the commander lays beside you on his side, a serene smile you've never seen before graced on his lips.

"so, did i convince you to take levi up on that offer?" weren't you the one that came here to persuade him?

your eyes fight the cloud of drowsiness that, as per usual, takes over you post-orgasm, blinking slowly, but hard to keep yourself awake as much as you can.

"yes, sir," you mumble sleepily, back to the honourifics once again. the sound of commander erwin's rumbling laugh is the last thing you hear as you descend into a heavy sleep, the faint image of levi's broken expression painting the back of your eyelids before everything fades to black.

꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏

#levi smut #levi ackerman fic #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #aot fanfiction #aot fic #aot smut #by yours truly

[geffenrecords]

u should give ME recs of the bands u like

srry i take 4ever but OF COURSE 💪

first of main recommendation 4ever is flatsound I KNOW he has popular stuff but he gets me like no one else my bff since i was like 13. he gets a bit overbearing and a bit like. idk too much occasionally buttttt i pgive him a pass. generally id recommend anything from his 2011 album "i clung to you hoping we'd both drown", GOOD SHIT on there but scotland i wish you had stayed/last minute cycle/four songs for losing you/if we could just pretend/losing intrerest and the trust i had in you r all reallly good. heat death, eight months, computer wound, soap, prayer beads, syrup, old lumina, i lost control, meow meow meow, last minute cycle, im so concerned about the ending that i dont even know the plot, cute stuff like that. theres probably more but thats just off the top of my head. idek. he has some good instrumental albums too :)

speaking of if u like instrumental stuff -> BUCKETHEAD. HIII. hes so funny i love him my fav album by him is colma my mom and dad used to play it in the car all the time and it still makes me cry. i wouldnt say his stuff is lifechanging but i use it for bg drawing noise all the time and its sweet stuff + hes really really fun to watch live and play. cool guy.

be your own pet is. well honestly im not relly sure what they are but they are fun ive only listened to their one album and it wasn't the best but it doesnt need to be. theyre so loud i need like ibuprofen if i ever listen to it full length again but the 2 songs by them i really really like are "stairway to heaven" (not a led zep cover) and "bog" (if my chem did a cover of this it would be unbelievably lifechanging).

megadeth I WILL RECCOMEND TO YOU idk if ur a metal person but uhmm give it a shot ? i dont really know how to say this in a good way so here. i think dave mustaine would really strike a note with you. in some aspects. HES FUNNY WEIRD ! and also hes really all you need yto know about them. they've switched out sm guys just keep him in mind. my fav lineup is peace sells bc chris poland was sweet looking and i just like gar samuelson for no discernable reason. they had a good ass bass player with GOOD ASS basslines but well he fucked that up! i honestly have no idea whos even in the band now. im basic w them i like rust in peace a lot and so far so good so what. they generally have a good few songs every album, enough for you to buy it but id never say theres like. an actual ass album thats like. i like every single song on it forever. SRRY LOL but i do really like his voice. song picks for them would be hook in mouth, 502, into the lungs of hell, honestly anything from rust in peace (ESP dawn patrol), peace sells title track, good mourning/black friday, n whatever else. im not the biggest fan of them but they have some good stuff. first album isnt bad either :o

KITTIE you should try rn. im fake i only listen to their first album but im working on it...lol. a bunch of 14 year old girls who met in highschool gym class and said hey lets make a band and well. it actually turned out super good. theyve also had sooooo many lineup changes idek but listen to the entirety of spit and the title track for until the end.

for a real dumb stupid emo band -> nightmare of you. i STILL ALSO havent listened to their other album but their self titled is very cute lol. theyre sooo fucking cheesy and stupid but theyre so fun. saw a pic of mikeyway with the lead singer once and also i reccomend watching their music vids bc theyre funny as FUCK. songs picks are thumbelina, my name is trouble, why am i always right?, i want to be buried in your backyard, and in the bathroom is where i want you. silly.

one of my favs ever EVANESCENCE. or at least their fallen album )are u noticing a pattern yet). i used to drive around and have that one playing on repeat like literally for weeks straight i luvv her sm. going under, whisper, tourniquet, and imaginary are the top Hits from there.

also im not sure if you want like mcr or fob hits BUT ill give them to you because i have the best ever taste are years of soul bonding with them. mcr hits -> drowning lessons, our lady of sorrows, headfirst for helos, early sunsets, best day ever, CUBICLES, helena, to the ed, not okay, interlude, fashion statement, cemetary drive, i never told you, dead, how i disappear, sharpest lives, i dont love you, famous last words, bulletproof heart, only hope for me, save yourself, SCARECROW, boy division, ambulance, heaven help us, burn bright. fob hits -> grenade jumper, patron saint of liars & fakes, sixteen candles, our lawyer made us change the name, 7 minutes in heaven, get busy living, im like a laywer, HUM HALLELUJAH, golden, after life of the party, youre crashing, ive got all this ringing in my ears, DISLOYAL ORDER, shes my winona, headfirst slide, 27, w.a.m.s and west coast smoker. srry people are about to get on my ass but i dont care very much for their stuff post hiatus. I DONT THINK ITS BAD its just not for me. i listen to it with simone all the time though it has my respect blah blah blah.

okay i hope that waz good enuf for you. have fun <3

#obviously not everything i like but stuff i figured would please u #hehe #zyz #carter #asks #srry this took so long.......i dont rlly have an excuse other than i was at school for like. so long...ig....

[wrongwaterbicycle]

Hi! Fav moments from each member of the gang? (Here from your analysis- you hurt me in a good way)

u've opened a can of worms anon bc im fully abt to give u five moments for each and an additional 5 Group Moments. this was hard to narrow down and there is so much sunny that i def left some gems out but thank u for giving me smth fun to do lmao. in no particular order bc im not THAT strong.

this is an extremely long post.

DENNIS-

in high school reunion when he's wandering through the gymnasium just shouting at nothing in particular bc hes still making his dramatic exit but has run out of things to say

the scene where he's trying to flirt with that girl by telling her abt how his sister farts a lot and he like cant figure out why it isn't working

"superman? oh, cool, well he was the original."

his face when opening the rpg. the way he hides behind it so no one else can see him but mac. thats good shit.

BOYS ARE OUT TONIGHT, HUH

DEE

everything she does in mac and dennis manhunters. every single thing.

the way she just unhinges her jaw and screams at the top of her lungs when shes talking about lighting that girl on fire in college

when she pushes the flight attendant away w her foot in gang beats boggs

"JUST GET IN THE GODDAMNED CAR YOU FAT FAT ASS FAT FAT ASS"

this

MAC

his dance in mfhp. nothing is better than that.

"GOD DAMN IT, I DONT KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS MYSELF UNLESS THROUGH ANGER AND PERSONAL ATTACK!"

i'm pretty sure charlie (macsboys) pointed this out in a tag but i have never stopped noticing it- every time the gang has a chugging contest in the history of the show mac loses. what a baby man i adore him.

his whole speech to god in goes to hell. like even in what he thinks is a seriously important moment he is a Straight Up Fool, talking to god abt song and dance and shit.

every interaction he has with either of his parents on the show but most specifically the dynamic with him and mrs. mac, like when he tells charlie about how she leaves a cigarette burning outside the church he sounds about 8 years old.

CHARLIE

chicken sandwich no beak..... no beak i love him sm

all of his songs. how do i narrow down charlies songs??? you cant. i can't. no one can.

instead of just saying like hes thinking out loud or having Thoughts or whatever when mac and dennis ask him why he's talking to himself in spies like U.S. he ??? makes up that story abt a spider living in his ear and sending him his thoughts????? his fucking mind.

how can i neglect to mention WILDCARD BITCHES YEEEEEHAW

"great, i was hoping you'd say that. let's kill ourselves."

FRANK

the couch is his most iconic moment so it's going first, i don't care if that's overdone tell me you didn't nearly choke to death laughing the first time you saw it

the entirety of the ongo gablogian bit

his ferry tour ???? when he says the schuylkill river is full of strange creatures and dead bodies ????? like he isn't wrong

the go for it song!!! ever since that post about it recently i've been noticing it pop up in other episodes and i never realised how often frank is just.... go for it go for it go.... go for it go for it go..... the most obvious one is in PR nightmare i think bc it's the FIRST thing that happens in the cold open

"YA UNZIPPED ME! IT'S ALL COMIN BACK YA UNDERSTAND?! IT'S ALL COMIN BACK!"

okay and honourable mentions of Group Moments

the end of the gang escapes 🥺 theres no fakeout dee just. gets the steak. she gets to bite the steak first. i love episodes that end on a gang vs. the world note.

"the bar is where we belong, we can hide from the world at the bar!" gets me every time. like it sure is charlie.

dee and frank teamup episodes are always fun to me idk, any time frank has ever said "that's my girl" on the show i cried. but also it does very much make me realise he's never had one of those moments with dennis. let's just stop thinking abt that for now-

hucking rocks at trains 💕💞💓💖💕💞💕💓💕💖

OBVIOUSLY i have to mention near the end of goes to hell pt.2 where they all hold hands, accept death as long as it comes while they're together, and then physically fight each other to get to safety when they realise there's a way out. if that's not their whole group dynamic idk what is.

thank u sm anon and if you made it to the end of this post your reward is u get to watch charlie's butt dance. which also is one of my fav gang moments.

#i left so much out this was extremely difficult to narrow down #i tried not to include too too many macden moments bc ik everyone isnt just here for macden

[tragicomedys]

uhmmm gentan

WEOWOEOOOWOOIIEOIFPOPLP

>:) . i love gentan a lot. now im not gonna be able to give a sexy ass nuanced essay like my fellow mutuals do about their pairings but listen . i just think theyre great. i think they complement each other i think they could potentially have been rlly fucking good i think they couldve really been essential figures to the other’s development. notice the word COULDVE because yeah i admit a lot of the pairings i like come from my own perception on how they couldve developed bc like admittedly genya had way more potential and tanjirou as great and fun as he is he literally just stays static thru out the whole manga. except for a couple of small moments. but like other than that hes mr perfect BUT ANYWAY

i think for genyas part its kinda obvious. tanjirou helped him Tremendously through his relationship with his brother & overall was pretty protective over genya n shit. i think tanjirou helps/would help genya gain more confidence overall, especially thinking back to his last moments where he thought of tanjirou and his words to gain, like, the confidence and strength to go through with the mission even tho he was doubting himself. in that way, tanjirou sorta completes genya, like he reminds genya to be kinder to himself and be more confident in himself and etc etc. pretty common tanjirou behavior.

for tanjirous part... their backstories are similar in how they both experienced the deaths of their entire family (in contrast to zenitsu and inosuke, and kinda kanao because her original family’s deaths arent expanded on), but the way each of them took it provided like a backdrop to their characterizations. i know tanjirous own experience with coping and grieving isnt expanded on too much, considering how its shown that he sorta “accepted” the death of his family from the beginning (thinking back to the scene where he held that guys hand & smiled, and even if that wasnt necessarily acceptance we dont REALLY see tanjirou process his past trauma in depth ig), but i think tanjirou in general is someone that would be closed off abt his own grief and pain cuz hes the “older brother” and would naturally hide away anything he thinks would worry and upset others. i mean we already see that in how he didnt tell that little nurse butterfly girl that he had a fever for his sun breathing (self-sacrifical too) and how he was basically kinda like. not expecting to be alive by the time nezuko would become human/theyd defeat muzan (essentially accepted dying when his face got FUCKED up until zenitsu said ur not dead yet buddy; overall he doesnt accept other ppls help easily as he noted how if he were the demon in their situation nobody would help him (i forgot what manga ch that was but he said smth like that) amongst other situations). theres also one of the first demons he fought where he was talking about how as the oldest brother he needs to endure more stuff and pain and whatever whatever u know. so what the fuck im getting at by the end of all of this is that i just think as genya could develop into being more confident n sortaaaa pushy (i feel like hes naturally pushy with basically anybody except his brother and tanjirou LMFAO) and could like, help tanjirou express his feelings in its entirety more freely yknow, like both the good and the bad. like i mentioned with why im not really into inotan / zentan (like that i feel like tanjirou would always feel the need to look over them n honestly can u blame him ? theyre Crazy) but i like gentan bc i feel like they could naturally become more equal in a sense when it comes to how they balance each other out. genya could've possibly been a character to help tanjirou through his own grief that he’s internalizing and couldve been someone tanjirou could relax around and not feel the need to look over... IFFFFF AND ONLY IF his character was expanded on/didnt die that quickly n early or whatever.

I think that kinda dynamic would also work out bc of how genya couldve possibly been feeling towards his brother growing up, just watching him from a distance and wanting to help him but not being able to do anything. and his guilt when he accused sanemi would just be insurmountable. so what im getting at is that i feel like genya wouldnt want that to happen, like, again, and thats why i think he’d actually take action when he grew to be more of a risk-taker and would try 2 actually make tanjirou open up yknow. bc again tanjirou upholding his “oldest bro” title wouldve taken a toll on him if u ask me. that whole vision of himself would logically lead to a lot of bottling up of emotions. i know genya tried making that right and tried helping his bro by like, becoming a demon slayer, but again i just can see genya and tanjirou having that sorta relationship.

ANYWAY. again i do acknowledge that like, for the most part ive probably filled up parts of their personalities bc i think the both of them had more potential/couldve been developed more like i just view it sorta as a flaw how static tanjirou is and how short genya’s time was. it’s definitely possible and likely that i interpreted some scenes in a very diff way compared to others, and i mightve interpreted their characterizations differently than watever other people. but like in my big dumbo brain theyre gay theyre fun they would love eahc other 2 death they would have a lotta fun together and BLAH BLAH ! but besides the “analysis” i jusyt gave on them i just thikn theyd be awesome. mr “i thought he’d talk to me since we were both in the nude” tanjirou kamado. the way genya and tanjirou have blushed @ each other many times WOUGJOUIHJ. the way they give each other strenght . the way genya protected him in battle and thought of him during his last moments . the way tanjirou is easily impressed (u remember when he was like WOAH SO COOL about mitsuri n stuff and genya was just like ... :| ) so i just think its funny if tanjirou thought genya was cool like . .it’s genya LFMREI9WODJFSLK. i know every other person tanjirous age is like in love with him but whatevrr tanjirou would crush on my homeboy genya 🙄 . iwas gonna say something else but i totally just forgot

in conclusion they should kiss just cuz i said so or what ever idk 

#oh gentan ? ummmm yeah theyre like whatever 🙄 #theyre ummmm 😒 okkkkkk. #anyway please i ju ts i ghfu gyfcvu9grei9fdijklj welocme 2 my fuckign nightmare. #why is this gif so fucking large im so sorry. but thats me like i jump out of my little fish tank and flop flop flop #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING KING IM SORRY IT TOOK A WHILE TO GET TO I JUST THINK WITH MY HEAD A LOT BUT THEN FORGET. #TY!!! #im on laptop ill tag later #mutuals #kny #(:< #nezukoz #kny manga spoilers

[lesbianmarth]

it’s been a while since i posted about aa but i just finished soj in its entirety tonight. here’s my new list so far

i still have to give thoughts on cases 4 5 and dlc so that’ll be under a cut. spoilers!

6-4: this was such a filler case, almost shamefully so. i don’t know why they thought they could manage to do this in the 4th case when every game with 5 cases has been pretty consistent about making the 4th case plot relevant, sometimes literally just a preamble to case 5. so yeah i think this one was kinda ass

the two things it had going for it: one, athena. in 6-2 i actually got confused about why i ever liked her, because in that case she felt like she was just acting the part of the Peppy Teen Girl With a Rowdy Streak that makes up almost every assistant character. But then as SOON as she started bantering with Simon in 6-4 i was like “oh, THAT’S why i liked her!” was nice to take control of her again.

two, uendo toneido. while i don’t think you can say the DID was portrayed with quite the necessary respect or kindness, it was handled better than i’ve seen other media handle it-- at least it’s not completely demonized. other people have written more on that in better detail so i’m not really the judge, but the basic point is that this witness was mad fun to read, and even the dumb jokes like the changing number of floor cushions were entertaining. thus why this case is in the “hard carried by one side character” tier.

especially since there was like nothing else going on. no connection to the main plot, only two other characters besides uendo, and for some reason the clown tits girl was here instead of the magic show case (and to be honest, she wasn’t enjoyable for me even BEFORE she did the standard aa female villain thing and changed her speech pattern as soon as she fell under suspicion). just a weird, nothing case stuck right around the point aa games usually enter endgame. And especially weird because...

6-5 part 1: inexplicably there are two separate cases in the final chapter and each gets one day of investigation and trial. such a weird setup, and it really shouldn’t work... but i think it kinda barely does. barely. it would still have been better to split it into case 4 and case 5 though.

i have a hard time articulating much on the first case bc it sort of blends together for me. the main thing is that the concept of it being a civil case where apollo and phoenix face off is really good. it was a good change of pace, even though you knew it was gonna be a murder somehow anyway. sarge was reasonably nice, i guess, paul atishon had some good animations and quirks (my favorite being when he tries to just walk away from the stand to avoid answering a question), and the logic of the actual murder was good enough.

but i especially got those strong “oh this is a FINAL case!” vibes during the segment in the cave, and that added so much to it even if not much of it was relevant in the first half of the case. the adventure feel reminded me of some of the (out of context bc i still havent played it) scenes i know from 3-5, which is a good association to invoke imo. and it did a lot to give apollo and dhurke time to bond.

speaking of which, dhurke, holy shit. what a KING. i don’t think i’ve ever liked a dad character in ace attorney this much. he’s so genuine and like down to earth that it’s impossible not to start liking him and believe how much he cares for his sons. the bit where he rescued apollo from the cave flood... i felt it in my heart

6-5 part 2: let me just get this out of the way: ga’ran sucks. her design after she goes full evil is so bad, she’s so malicious that it’s immediately obvious she’s going to be the culprit, her breakdown is ridiculous and just embarrassing to watch, and inga had already established way more charisma as a villain when he did the “those were orders of execution actually” bit in 6-3. with that said,

i actually liked it for the most part. the spirit channeling stuff was excellent imo-- they probably use it to similar or greater effect in 3-5 but as someone who again has not played that, i was surprised and almost impressed by how well it was applied. maya was relevant for something! it feels like it’s been ages!

rayfa was a little underutilized, i think-- her moment of determination where she stops letting ga’ran have control over her was alright but it fell flat bc it didn’t have any weight during the moment. i kept hoping she would like, wordlessly take of her shawl and do the little verbal preamble to the divination seance while ga’ran kept yelling at her to stop, but no, the script can’t be good like that, i guess. and since she didn’t get to be the investigation assistant for long, none of her charm in that role carried through.

but DHURKE!! oh my god! in a game almost devoid of emotional impact, his involvement in this case really hit. the way they painstakingly animated his death, the scene where he makes a promise with maya, and then the weight of knowing in hindsight that everything he did in the first part of the case was after he’d already died and just wanted to see his son again before passing on for real....... it hurt. i felt something during that section. this case would also be hard carried by him if not for the fact that i really liked the murder bits.

amara was good too--liked how they made her suspiciously serene and accentuated it with the lightning strikes to make her look like a hidden murderer character about to reveal herself, only to walk it back and confirm she was being forced to act that way. i thought it worked. nahyuta was boring though, i’m sorry-- i get the motivation with having to be a bastard bc his sister and mom were basically held hostage, but the only time i found him compelling in that mess was the bit where he removed his one fingerless glove and revealed he still has the dragon tattoo. that was it. athena was also completely unused the whole case (not even a single mood matrix? really?) and trucy one again went without any role of importance.

the ending also... yknow, a friend said they had to end it this way bc they never figured out what they were going to do with apollo (since following up on what they started in aa4 clearly wasn’t an option???) and just threw him on a bus to get rid of him. i agree with that-- he really feels thrown to the side, and with that i think trucy’s officially stranded with no hope of any character advancement. and the way they ended the game with phoenix and lamiroir deciding “yeah, maybe NOW we should finally tell those two they’re related” honestly felt insulting lol

but maybe the dlc case will let things go out on a high note...?!

6-6: it was okay.

it would’ve worked pretty well as a filler case in an older aa-- honestly i think it’d be one of the better filler cases, certainly worth replacing the shitty ones like 2-3 or 3-3 or, hey, 6-4. but whether i’d say it was worth paying for... eh.

the time travel conceit was done well enough, i think. the way they tied it back to sorin and pierce’s backstories was nice, and the twist about having two receptions was good, although they needed to treat that as a real twist with much more gravity. when the truth comes out it just feels like “oh of course that’s what happened” rather than a big surprise worthy of the Confessing the Truth theme. it’s sort of important because the case becomes a lot less interesting when you take out the time travel element.

far as characters are concerned, i think they needed more side characters to sell the whole thing-- another sprocket family member or another servant of the household. it felt a little limited-- sorin and pierce are pretty good witnesses and i like their quirks and their secrets, but the only alive woman (ellen) has very few traits and no connection to the deeper story of the case, so she falls really flat. the old aa characters didn’t add much- maya and edgeworth were just there for fanservice, ema didn’t get to do much other than acknowledge for the first time in years that she’s a big edgeworth fan, and larry is annoying as hell like he always is.

and oh my god i actually forgot while i was writing that, how they put in athena and trucy but only used them for brief slapstick where trucy would try to set athena on fire and shit. again-- no mood matrix? couldn’t even try once to fit those two characters into something?

i did like pierce’s transformation into his surgeon form though-- that was really cool. loved him doing surgery on a robot, taking xrays of the lawyers, and his breakdown was fantastic-- he would make a really good culprit if they didn’t whiff the last bit of pathos at the end. i don’t think he should’ve been aiming for revenge on sorin; it would have hurt much more if he was still loyal to the guy and never intended for him to be in danger, but the final “why’d you do it?” talk in the trial just felt flat and one-note, much like the one in 6-4.

... so that’s spirit of justice! not a super positive experience but i’m happy to say it’s done. as much as i want to go and replay dgs, i think when i do go back to ace attorney i’ll be replaying the trilogy for the first time since high school

#ace attorney #aa playthrough

[wandering-bitch]

Notes for I Have Always Loved The Door (pt 1)

I Have Always Loved The Door is the Wen Qing/Mianmian fic that all the wlw wanted but canon could not in any way make happen 

This is part one of three, i’m sorry, but it is a 30k fic and i’ve never written anything this long. it’s like. six months of my life. annotations are gonna be longer, too.

What is this fic About? Uh. Lots. Mostly your relationship with your past and your future. making choices about what you carry with you into your life.

title is from Charly Bliss’ “Percolator” but like. the rest of the fic is in no way related to the song. Just the lyrics “I have always loved the door/but I will always love you more/I love metaphors” fit well for the wen qing mood

it is a fucking CRIME that wen qing died, and while i’m happy that luo qingyang got a happy ending with a soft man who just wants to make her happy, i think she deserves more. so i gave her a fancy job

i struggled with the outline for this so much until i realized that mianmian’s canon arc is partially about saying goodbye to your home/family because you no longer fit there + it’s not a great place anymore. and that’s so close 2 wen qing’s

so that drove a great part of the plot, and helped shape the youya/tuzai bit

ch 1

the first chapter is so funny and then nothing ever approaches it, i’m so sorry i got ur hopes up with the shennans TTnTT

i hate most of my writing after it’s up but i still like this chapter. wen qing being a doctor, nmj knowing his place, mianmian cursing loudly

“If you’ve been knuckles-deep in me, you can consider yourself a friend” i spend a lot of time in this fic trying to kill wen qing with Lesbianism, but honestly that’s just to make up for mianmian killing herself with lesbianism.

this was b4 i decided to care how i ended chapters haha

ch 2

i’m proud honestly of this fic alternating perspective, bc it forced me to learn to write more distinct voices. 

“are you eating enough red meat?” “in the unclean realm?” 

if i had 2 be in a Great Sect i would 100% want to be in the big sexy sword jock sect but unfortunately i’m a vegetarian

please think of me, an average-sized gay, with noodle arms, pushing away all the giant cooks and self-appointed nie aunties, who are trying to shove meat into my mouth

like you know how cats avoid the bath??? and their people are like “jesus fuck how is this 10 lb animal defeating me, i’m huge and strong and also have thumbs”??? that, except it’s an average sized sword gay fighting ten RIPPED aunties holding out beef

i do love the mianqing dynamic i created here and i’m not sure i kept it up but WHATEVER this is about annotations not about editing

mianmian: god FUCK the jin clan, the jin clan sux. wen qing: hmmmmmmmmmm

i think mianmian’s three older sisters might show up in a future work in the series

yeah, i fell in love with this au, there will be at least one epilogue.

ch 3

oh ho ho!!! it’s the beginning of Sword Content!!!

i watched so many videos of dao work vs jian work and then i ignored all of it!!!

by that i mean “there were only like two decent-quality videos on dao work that i found on youtube and i couldn’t study them hard enough to get what i wanted”

someone trying to correct your practice with boring, irrelevant suggestions??? it’s extremely likely, it’s happened to me multiple times, i straight up stopped practicing outside bc of it

please, men, i’m begging you. if you see me doing martial arts, rather than correcting me, ask “oh cool, what are you doing? ah, i do [this art]” and like. talk with me like i’m a human

not to be A Bitch but there is a 70% chance that i’ve actually studied more marital arts than you, on account of most ppl abandoning within a few years, and me practicing aikido for more than a fucking decade

god swinging a weapon full-speed at someone and stopping inches from their head??? a Fun Time

mianmian’s doing it as a big dick energy move

but in my school we just trusted each other to not fuck up.

im too gay to want any “”””homophobia””” or “””discovering you’re gay”””” or “””coming out”””” plots, i just wanna fast forward to the “”””i wanna kiss a girl””” bit

OH MAN i forgot wwx’s voice in wen qing’s head. 

“even after his death the yiling patriarch managed to annoy her” i love wen qing

ch 4

IT’S THE MEMORIAL DINNER CHAPTER

memorial dinners are an important part of my household’s mourning process sorry

“she waved her hand to indicate the entirety of his use of demonic cultivation, fall from grace, and mass murder” mood wen qing. fucking mood.

oh my god im rereading this and seeing where i misspelled shit ugh. sorry lwj

so sometimes i’m vague about food and that’s because the only food i can think of when i’m writing is pork. i just. can’t remember what other foods u can eat. pork and also buns (but meat buns) soup? never heard of her. chicken? what is that??? piles of vegetables??? no one eats that obviously

please remember that im vegetarian and not only do i not eat pork, what i do eat is piles of vegetables

ah yes!!! time for mianmian to say prisons are for burning!!!!

our girls are both radical leftists sorry not sorry

acab, reproductive rights, prisons are for burning, capitalism is an inherently exploitative system, unionize your workplace

“tip your servers well” -- wen qing

wwx, shouting from beyond the grave: GET SOME, GIRLS!!!

wwx’s ghost: do y’all need anything? snacks? water? a condom? ah, love you kids, you keep me young

oh i forgot “for my local radical,” i should make sure to keep using ‘my radical’ as a cute endearment for the wives

ch 5

awwwww yeahhhhhhh trauma dreamsssss

writing jin guangyao is so fun!! and stressful!!!

fun because he never says anything straight, only through six layers of plausible deniability, and that’s just a fun exercise

fun also because i Love a Bitch. 

stressful because he never says anything straight, only through six layers of plausible deniability. 

the bit where he threatens to expose wen qing and mentions specifically that nmj does not like being lied to??? took me several times to perfect and im still not happy!!! 

but i’m deeply proud of him sending the flame hairpiece, that’s some a+ innocent-looking menace right there, that’s the only thing on this planet i believe in anymore

i loved making up sect politics that weren’t specifically “let’s put up watchtowers” because i don’t think that happened while jgs was still alive

uh @ self why did i capitalize da-ge that’s so uncomfortable.

oh my god i just realized that jin guangyao has to watch his ex boyfriend/nie mingjue treat mianmian the way he used to be treated oh fuck

sorry i was not at all writing 3zun cinderella when i wrote this so i wasn’t in the habit of thinking about jgy being in pain and now???

get fukt jin guangyao

he 100% cries to lxc about this later

what’s that??? you say i keep writing overthinkers who are anxious and terrified of everything??? huh i’m not sure i agree and if even if you were right i’m not sure it means anything

“grumpy frog” mianmian mvp

god the flame hairpiece is one of like two whole good endings i did for this fic haha

next time: ch 6-10!!

#mdzs #cql #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #wen qing #behind the scenes #i have always loved the door #mianmian #god i just [clenches fist] love mianmian

[princess-of-france]

I’m interested in your take on Angelo & Isabella w/ personality parallels (also just your opinion on Angelo especially tbh because I feel like I under-analyzed him when I read the play bc I was just. Well, found him scary :P) because obviously w/ your production you’re pretty deep in and I don’t see a lot of MFM content

Oof, this is a loaded question.

I’m happy to answer it, but I think I should make a disclaimer that—as you point out—my opinions of Angelo are skewed by my experiences as an actor inside a specific production. I’m also not an English scholar; I’m a theater artist. My lit crit skills are dodgy at best (as @lizbennett2013 knows all too well), and I don’t believe there is a single way to interpret any character in drama, especially when you’re dealing with heightened text. All I can do is give my honest appraisal of Angelo as I have encountered him dramaturgically through cutting our script, rehearsing Isabella, and seeing his iterations in other productions. 

So! Angelo and Isabella. Two sides of the same coin. I really think they are.

Let’s get the obvious stuff out of the way first: Angelo is scary. He just is. His sexually motivated exploitation of authority continues to be one of the most transcendent aspects of this ever-timely play. However you stage it, however you trim the text, whatever charismatic actor you slot into the role, Angelo is a capital-T-Terror and there’s no getting around it. Coercive, manipulative, hypocritical, ruthless, misogynistic, fraudulent, and cruel, he basically spends the entirety of MEASURE FOR MEASURE committing crimes and then soliloquizing about how painful it all is for his bargain-price conscience. You’ll never hear me say he doesn’t deserve his reputation as one of the most reprehensible tyrants in all of Shakespeare. 

But.

Of the three defining qualities I see in Angelo—ideological dogmatism, rhetorical prowess, and professional pride—there’s not one of them that is not blisteringly prominent in his antagonist, Isabella. Despite the fact that she’s a Catholic republican (“Butt out of people’s lives, Big Government; God will judge us when we die!”) and he’s a Puritan[ical] bureaucrat (“My job is to regulate people’s lives because purgatory is a myth!”), they have far more in common, cognitively, than not. Understand: I’m not saying that Angelo is not a piece of shit for how he behaves throughout course of the play. Nor am I implying that Isabella is somehow culpable for his masturbatory exercise of power over her. My girl has flaws, but she’s unquestionably the hero of M4M. What I’m trying to articulate is that Angelo and Isabella were born with the same psychological toolkit, which they elect to apply towards radically different purposes. (Think Parseltongue and “It is our choices that show who we truly are, far more than our abilities…”) This shared intellectual arsenal is what makes their pair of scenes in Act Two so iconic. We basically get to watch them play out Newton’s Third Law in real time: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction… As far as rhetoric goes, neither Isabella nor Angelo can overwhelm the other. For every argument she makes in favor of mercy, he punctures it with legalism. For every judicial explication he provides, she dissolves it with morality. One minute, we’re nodding our heads along with Angelo as he explains why Christian values should have no place in a court of law; the next, we’re on our feet cheering for Isabella to convince him to factor human integrity into his role as a public servant. I can’t read 2.2 as anything other than the blueprint for every screenplay Aaron Sorkin ever wrote. It is the ultimate courtroom drama.

Just look at the play’s opening act. Angelo’s hasty promotion aside, both he and Isabella begin the story at the lowest rung of their respective vocational ladders: he’s a would-be Chief Justice, she’s a would-be Prioress. Deputy/nun. Politics/religion. Different spheres/same ambition. And, in like true zealots, both Angelo and Isabella express their commitment to their new duties in terms of self-flagellation:

“You may not so extenuate his offenseFor I have had such faults, but rather tell me,When I that censure him do so offend,Let mine own judgment pattern out my deathAnd nothing come in partial.”        (Angelo, II.i.29-33)

“And have you nuns no farther privileges?[…] I speak not as desiring more,But rather wishing a more strict restraintUpon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.”        (Isabella, I.iv.1, 3-5)

It’s also worth mentioning that our first introduction to these characters features them scurrying along in the wake of an authority figure they respect. 

Act 1, Scene 1: Angelo wants to know the extent to which he can wield his law degree at the pleasure of the Duke of Vienna (the Duke himself!). 

Act 1, Scene 4: Isabella wants to know the extent to which she can practice self-denial for the glory of God and the approval of Mother Superior. 

They are both drawn to gravitas, to figures who represent order and authority. They are also drawn to discipline. He’s a non-drinking, non-smoking Precision. She’s a gluttony-abhorring Bride of Christ. Let the rest of the world eat cake. They will be eating their sins and purifying their souls, thank you very much.

At the risk of descending into the flaming pits of cliché, I’ll also touch on those three qualities I mentioned earlier, because who says the TPE (Three Paragraph Essay) is dead? 

First up: ideological dogmatism.

[Side note: I may be a crappy historian, but I do recognize there’s a historical paradigm at play in this text. Vienna needs to be a Catholic city and Angelo’s Protestantism needs to be allusive because Shakespeare presumably valued all his limbs and didn’t relish the idea of rotting in a Cheapside prison. If he’d lived in a “free press” kind of sociocultural context, he might have endowed his religious figures with a bit more Opinion. I digress.]

In the M4M-centered episode of Isaac Butler’s phenomenal podcast, “Lend Me Your Ears,” he interviews JohnPaul Spiro (Assistant Director of the School of Liberal Arts, Villanova University), who does a wonderfully unfussy job of summing up the Angelo/Isabella ideology parallel:

“In much the same way as our era is filled with political zealots—as well as, to a certain degree, religious zealots—what you’ll find when you look closer is there’s a small number of very loud people who are dominating the discourse. And a lot of people are in the middle and would rather not have to take sides. Claudio, he seems to be monogamous, he seems to want to just live a very simple life, he’s not really concerned with theological things. And when pressed on theological things, his point is: ‘I don’t really know. No one really knows what happen when you die, so I’m scared.’”

Because religious extremism lies at the heart of the rhetorical warfare between Angelo and Isabella, I think there’s a misconception that M4M is a Play About Religion. But the ONLY characters who canonically go to the mat about the finer points of theology are…wait for it…Angelo and Isabella. This is an early modern text brimming with religious figures (Sister Francisca, Friar Thomas, Friar Peter, even the phony Friar Lodowick), but not a single one of them gets on the pulpit about ANYTHING in the course of the entire play. Sister Francisca’s role consists of bemusedly listening to her youthful novitiate describe her desire for stricter prohibitions at the cloister. Friar Thomas, a sycophantic priest whose parish coffers are probably lined with Vincentio’s gold, spends his one onstage scene nodding his head sympathetically as the Duke over-explains why he is disguising himself as a monk. Friar Peter, the poor Jesuit roped into delivering the Duke’s messages, forgoes moralizing and instead uses his limited dialogue to try to help two disenfranchised women receive justice for their abuse. And Friar Lodowick, of course, is nothing but an alias for a cowardly sociopath who wants to run the world without being held accountable for his mistakes. Nothing evangelical about any of that.

But Angelo and Isabella? They can’t shut up about religion. 

Isabella wants Angelo to temper his punitive Weltanschauung with morality, ideology, Platonic ideals, metaphysics…in short, all of the intangibles that can’t be used as evidence in a court of law. 

“Why, all the souls that were were forfeit onceAnd He that might the vantage best have tookFound out the remedy. How would you be,If He, which is the top of judgment, shouldBut judge you as you are? O, think on thatAnd mercy then will breathe within your lips,Like man new made.”        (Isabella, II.ii.97-103)

Angelo, in turn, wants Isabella to recognize the futility of Catholicism as a proper tool for creating heaven on earth because Catholicism permits withdrawal from the world and the abdication of earthly responsibility (cf: nunnery). Instead, he argues, what God actually needs is for people to actively toil in their communities to criminalize, punish, and eradicate sin. 

“I show [pity] most of all when I show justice,For then I pity those I do not know,Which a dismissed offense would after gall,And do him right that—answering one foul wrong—Lives not to act another.”        (Angelo, II.ii.128-132)

They take up the two sides of a theological debate that predates Christianity: ethics vs. justice. And that conflict is itself inextricably tied to the timeless political debate of non-intervention vs. regulation. And the thing is: even when Angelo and Isabella realize the irreconcilability of their respective schools of thought, they KEEP ARGUING ABOUT IT because extremism is just that: extreme. Angelo and Isabella may be major players in M4M, but they represent the radical minority of their world. They are the “small group of very loud people” and literally everyone is a moderate next to them. Ideology, not desire, is the bedrock of their personhood. When confronted with a person of an uncompromisingly polar viewpoint, they behave as if it might be possible to change the viewpoint of that person because the alternative is to admit defeat. To tragic effect, they hold their ideals more sacred than human life. For Angelo, that ideal is the law (i.e. integrity of action). For Isabella, it’s chastity (i.e. integrity of the soul). They are dogmatic in their beliefs, inflexible in their opinions, and inalienably convinced of their own “rightness.” They are austere, incisive, independent, articulate, and sharp. They are disgusted by the depravity of the world around them and determined to transcend it. What differentiates them is the content of their convictions, but they rate the value of that conviction equally.

So, yes, M4M is a play acutely interested in how religion shapes the law and human behavior. But I would argue that it is really only about one thing: power.

Which brings me to rhetoric.

Angelo and Isabella are lawyers. Both of them. High-powered, quick-thinking, weakness-sniffing, self-righteous litigators. Sure, Isabella may not have the paperwork to prove it; she was conceived by an Englishman in the early 17th century. But much in the same way that it’s obvious to everyone with eyes that would-be nun Maria [von Trapp] is a born music teacher from the first scene of The Sound of Music, so is it evident from Isabella’s first moments onstage that she is a born lawyer. She was, quite simply, born to argue.

Consider her first scene onstage: in the nunnery, with Lucio and Francisca. Unlike the audience, Isabella doesn’t have empirical evidence of Lucio’s amorality and notorious womanizing. She doesn’t need it. She can smell it on him. And in six short lines, she wipes the mosaic-laced marble floor of the cathedral with his ass:

LUCIOCan you so stead meAs bring me to the sight of Isabella,A novice of this place and the fair sisterTo her unhappy brother, Claudio?

ISABELLAWhy her “unhappy brother”? Let me ask,The rather for I now must make you knowI am that Isabella, and his sister.

LUCIOGentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you.Not to be weary with you, he’s in prison.

ISABELLAWoe me, for what?

LUCIOFor that which, if myself might be his judge,He should receive his punishment in thanks:He hath got his friend with child.

ISABELLASir, make me not your story.

LUCIO‘Tis true.I would not, though ‘tis my familiar sinWith maids to seem the lapwing and to jest,Tongue far from heart, play with all virgins so.I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted,By your renouncement an immortal spiritAnd to be talked with in sincerityAs with a saint.

ISABELLAYou do blaspheme the good in mocking me.

        (I.iv.18-40)

I’m not going to venture down the English professor’s rabbit hole of rhetorical devices and syntactical analysis—partly because there are thousands of scholars who have already done it better than I ever could (check out Claire McEachern and Julie Felise Dubiner!) and partly because I’ve been blathering for too long in general. But sufficed to say that three hallmarks of a good lawyer are as follows: 

The ability to seize and repurpose the language of one’s opponent (“Why her ‘unhappy brother?’”)

The ability to spot and sidestep landmines (“Sir, make me not your story.”)

The ability to redirect conversation (“You do blaspheme.”)

By that metric alone, Isabella’s performance here is worthy of the Harvard Law Review. 

And then, of course, two scenes later, she meets her match. 

A dear friend of mine, who is a first-year at Georgetown Law and basically the smartest person I’ve ever met, once told me: “The best and worst thing that can happen to a good lawyer is to meet another good lawyer with different ideas.” I do apologize for invoking Sorkin twice in one essay, but honestly: “The President likes smart people who disagree with him” (Leo, The West Wing, 2x05). It is a truth universally acknowledged that however infuriating it is for a highly intelligent person to debate with an equally intelligent person who disagrees with everything they stand for, it can also be unbelievably stimulating and monumentally entertaining to watch. (Hello, 50 million seasons of Law & Order.)

I’m now two weeks deep into rehearsals for M4M and I still get gobsmacked, daily, by the sheer majesty of Angelo’s and Isabella’s rhetoric. Theirs goes so far beyond the mental agility of anyone else in this play, or even—dare I say it—in Shakespeare’s canon. They are beyond intelligent. They are freaky genius kids with the kind of sanctimonious stubbornness that would be obnoxious if it weren’t so damn compelling. Between the two of them, between their two infamous scenes, they pull out every rhetorical trick in the book and play approximately seventeen unique rounds of intellectual checkers. (I say checkers because chess is too slow for them. If you want chilly brinksmanship, check out the Roman plays. Angelo and Isabella have agendas and professional pride on the line. Time is of the essence.)

ISABELLAI do think that you might pardon him,And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.

ANGELOI will not do it.

ISABELLABut can you, if you would?

ANGELOLook, what I cannot, that I will not do.

ISABELLABut might you do it, and do the world no wrongIf so your heart were touched with that remorseAs mine is to him?

ANGELOHe’s sentenced. ‘Tis too late.

ISABELLA“Too late”? Why, no. I, that do speak a word,Might call it back again.

        (II.ii.67-78 [italics are mine])

Things get even more complicated when they start moving into those same theoretical marshes I described earlier:

“If he had been as you, and you as he,You would have slipped like him, but he like youWould not have been so stern.”        (Isabella, II.ii.84-86)

“The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.Those many had not dared to do that evilIf the first that did th’ edict infringeHad answered for his deed. Now ‘tis awake…”        (Angelo, II.ii.117-120)

ENOUGH WITH THE METAPHORS ALREADY. CLAUDIO IS ON DEATH ROW.

And even when they finally, finally get to the point, they remain at an impasse:

ISABELLAYet show some pity.

ANGELOI show it most when I show justice.

        (II.ii.127-128)

Which causes Isabella essentially to lose all sense of self-awareness and control because goddam it, never once in her entire life has she met a person she couldn’t out-argue, who the fuck does this deputy think he is, this was supposed to be a simple mission and she’s been standing in this room for ten minutes and he’s still siTTING THERE SMILING AT HER WHAT THE F—

“So you must be the first that gives this sentence,And he that suffers. O, it is excellentTo have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannousTo use it like a giant[…]Could great men thunderAs Jove himself does, Jove would never be quiet,For every pelting, petty officerWould use his heaven for thunder,Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven,Thou rather with thy sharp and sulfurous boltSplits the un-wedgeable and gnarlèd oakThan the soft myrtle. But man, proud man,Dressed in a little brief authority,Most ignorant of what he’s most assured,His glassy essence like an angry apePlays such fantastic tricks before high heavenAs makes the angels weep, who with our spleensWould all themselves laugh mortal.”        (Isabella, II.ii.134-152)

Which causes ANGELO to lose all self-awareness and control because goddam it, never once in his entire life has he met a person he couldn’t out-argue, who the fuck does this nun think she is, this was supposed to be a simple smackdown and she’s been standing in this room for ten minutes and he’s still waiting for her to admit defeat and oh God oh no oh no oh no why can’t he look away from her face, what the fuck is happening what the F—

ANGELOWHY DO YOU PUT THESE SAYINGS UPON ME?

ISABELLABecause authority, though it err like others,Hath yet a kind of medicine in itselfThat skins the vice o’ th’ top. Go to your bosom,Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth knowThat’s like my brother’s fault. If it confessA natural guiltiness such as is his,Let it not sound a thought upon your tongueAgainst my brother’s life.

ANGELO, asideShe speaks and ‘tis such senseThat my sense breeds with it.

        (II.ii.163-173)

Finally, Angelo gets her to leave and faces the music. My tremendous co-actor, Jude Van der Voorde, always slays this soliloquy.

“What’s this, what’s this? Is this her fault or mine?The tempter or the tempted, who sins most, ha?Not she; nor doth she tempt, but it is IThat, lying by the violet in the sun,Do as the carrion does, not as the flower,Corrupt with virtuous season.”        (Angelo, II.iv.199-204)

[Non sequitur: Jude is the kind of actor actors dream of acting with. He’s always got at least one trick up his sleeve, so my Isabella is constantly second-guessing herself around him. And he does the “sleazy wunderkind act” with a panache rivaling BJ Novak’s in Season 4 of The Office. He’s also one of the funniest people I’ve ever met. Kids, don’t be Method. Make friends with your fellow actors. Leave the emotions onstage and go get a midnight pizza. You will be so much happier.]

With regards to the M4M narrative, we all know what happens next, although it takes an agonizing 175 lines of text in 2.4 before Shakespeare levels off and gives us the canonical threat:

“Redeem thy brotherBy yielding up thy body to my will,Or else he must not only die the death,But thy unkindness shall his death draw outTo lingering sufferance. Answer me tomorrowOr by the affection that now guides me mostI’ll prove a tyrant to him. As for you:Say what you can, my false o’erweighs your true.”        (Angelo, II.iv.177-184)

What precedes this is the kind of tension-groaning, hair-splitting, goosebump-raising rhetorical tarantella that television writers today spend their entire careers trying to emulate. Isabella plays the fool for as long as she possibly can…

ANGELONay, but hear me.Your sense pursues not mine. Either you are ignorantOr seem so, crafty, and that’s not good.

ISABELLALet me be ignorant, and in nothing goodBut graciously to know I am no better.

        (II.iv.79-83)

…but eventually Angelo forces her hand and she has to deflect his onslaught with the sleek diplomacy of a kidnapping victim.

ISABELLABetter it were a brother died at onceThan that a sister, by redeeming him,Should die forever.

ANGELOWere not you then as cruel as the sentenceThat you have slandered so?

ISABELLAIgnomy in ransom and free pardonAre of two houses. Lawful mercyIs nothing kin to foul redemption.

ANGELOYou seemed of late to make the law a tyrant,And rather proved the sliding of your brotherA merriment than a vice.

ISABELLAO, pardon me, my lord. It oft falls out,To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean.I something do excuse the thing I hateFor his advantage that I dearly love.

        (II.iv.114-128)

Remember when I said that Angelo and Isabella are alike in that they are inalienably convinced of their own “rightness”? That still holds true. But now Angelo, without warning, has moved beyond the conceits of debate and is taking Isabella’s rhetorical arguments from 2.2 at literal face value in order to trip her up. He’s brought ideology crashing down to earth and introduced their physical relationship into the conversation…again, without warning and very much without her consent. And she has to figure out a way to back-peddle on her words without yielding defeat of the argument. It is nigh impossible. And I bring it up because guess who gets trapped in the exact same situation three short acts later?

LUCIOCome, sir; come, sir; come, sir; foh, sir! Why, you bald-pated, lying rascal, you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave’s visage, with a pox to you! Show your sheep-biting face, and be hanged an hour! Will ‘t not off?

        (LUCIO pulls off the friar’s hood and reveals the DUKE.)

DUKEThou art the first knave that e’er made’st a duke.—First, Provost, let me bail these gentle three.—Sneak not away, sir, for the friar and youMust have a word anon.—Lay hold on him.

LUCIOThis may prove worse than hanging.

DUKEWhat you have spoke I pardon. Sit you down.We’ll borrow place of him.       (to Angelo)Sir, by your leave.Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudenceThat yet can do thee office? If thou hast,Rely upon it till my tale be heardAnd hold no longer out.

ANGELOO my dread lord,I should be guiltier than my guiltinessTo think I can be undiscernible,When I perceive your Grace, like power divine,Hath looked upon my passes.         (V.i.395-421)

Game, set, match.

As for ego… Do I really need to talk about professional pride? I don’t think so. It’s Angelo and Isabella. Pride leaks out of every virtually every line they speak in this play. Pride in their conviction, pride in their moral righteousness, pride in their intellect, pride in their ability to judge the world with clarity (or whatever). Angelo actually admits it out loud to us in perhaps his most famous soliloquy, because the little fucker has a lot more Catholic guilt about lusting after a novitiate nun than his Protestant heart would like to admit:

“The state whereon I studiedIs, like a good thing being often read,Grown sere and tedious. Yea, my gravity,Wherein—let no man hear me—I take pride,Could I with boot change for an idle plumeWhich the air beats for vain.”        (Angelo, II.iv.7-15)

And even though Isabella could easily be the poster child for Christian piety, she’s so damn proud of her own humility that she occasionally threatens to void it altogether. 

ANGELOWhat would you do?

ISABELLAAs much for my poor brother as myself.That is, were I under the terms of death,Th’ impression of keen whips I’d wear as rubiesAnd strip myself to death as to a bedThat longing have been sick for, ere I’d yieldMy body up to shame.

        (II.iv.107-111)

Look at me, Angelo. Look at this body. It’s mine. Mine and God’s. I see what you’re doing, I know where you’re trying to go. And it is never. going. to happen.

Two weeks into rehearsal and I’m still not sure I’m convincing in my delivery of these lines. I’ve watched every filmed production of M4M I can get my hands on, and it’s no help. I just don’t know what to make of this. Scholars disagree virulently about these lines, but also…scholars aren’t actors, you know? I find myself questioning everything every time I get to this passage. Is Isabella actually a virgin? I’m not sure. Chastity and virginity aren’t actually the same thing and Isabella, for all her idealism, is more worldly than many of her ingenue brethren. One thing is for sure: she’s flushed with self-righteousness when she speaks these words. Angelo may be a haughty son of a bitch, but so is she, so is she, so is she.

Ugh, these characters. I love them so much. I hate Angelo, I do. I also love him. And God help me I love Isabella. They’re dumpster fires of human conviction and I’m so grateful to Shakespeare for giving us their story and for understanding four hundred fucking years ago, that this, THIS is the pinnacle of hell in the female experience: “Who would believe thee, Isabel?”

#MeToo

Thank you, Will. Thank you.

I feel like I should apologize for the length of this reply, but I’ve had so much freaking fun that I also don’t feel apologetic. Thank you for this amazing question! Hope you’re doing well! xx Claire

Tagging @malvoliowithin @measureformeasure @harry-leroy @suits-of-woe

#measure for measure #m4m 2019

[whirlybirbs]

"i’m not good for you , trust me." & speirs from band of brothers?

      ------ #1 curly-haired bad boy legend, coming thru. i hope this fic makes you all fall in love with speirs bc fuck i’m knee deep in emotions about him!!! i can’t recommend band of brothers enough! you’ll love this absolute psycho kleptomaniac!

       like i said before, this fic is based on the HBO war series actor portrayal!

The USO flies you and the other girls into England, despite the dangers of being mobile during war-time -- they tell you about those paratrooper boys run ragged from D-Day, tell you those boys need smiles and songs and morale. The plead hangs heavy in the air; news about Normandy had made it’s way to the U.S. in the form of casualty reports. 

Your neighbor's son had died on the beaches. 

This trip is no swing night at the USO back home. There’s no denying the war when you’re settling into a countryside being swept by bombings every other night. 

It’s raining in Aldbourne when the C-47 touches down on the makeshift airstrip. You and the other girls, dancers and singers and hostesses, are hustled out of the plane and into the back of a van headed for the billeted homes scattered along the country side. 

You catch glimpses of the men of the 101st wandering the streets, cigarettes dangling from their mouths. They look tired. You overhear your driver say they’d fought for nearly 40 days on the line -- and they’d jumped expecting to be there for only three days.

That night, you’re herded onto a stage in a crowded bar-room and as the rain pounds against the windows, you and the other USO performers dip into crooning love-songs as if that’s supposed to ease away the fact these boys will be jumping back into the war soon. You feel stupid up there in your lipstick, hair done up and USO uniform starched. You hate the way the men leer -- hungry gazes and wolf whistles galore.

The men flock to you by the bar, touches lingering and words trying to will you to their cots -- some of the other girls laugh and coo and give in to the sweet words, but you’re steadfast to nurse a cigarette and slip out the back of the bar. 

All of this... it’s nothing but a distraction --

“You alright?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, eyes wide as the back door of the bar swings open and an officer steps out. 

His gaze is more inquisitive than anything, fingers working at his pocket. The man, tall and dark haired with a sharp jaw, fishes a pack of Lucky Strikes from his dress uniform and you wonder how the hell he managed to get a good pack of smokes like that.

“Fine,” you say finally, tearing your gaze off him and back to the rain thrumming into the dirt road just beyond the awning, “Just... It was stuffy in there.”

“Mm.”

Ron watches you, dark eyes hypercritical of the way you pull yourself tight and inhale sharply at the raucous laughter from inside. Peeking from the doorway, Ron spots the source of the commotion. It’s Luz, happily grinning with a content USO girl on his lap. The paratrooper’s smile is dumb and not far off, Bill is muscling Buck around over the entire scene. 

“Those your men?”

Ron blinks, eyes jumping back to you. He raises a brow. “Hardly. I’m not with Easy Company.”

“Ah.”

He drags his cigarette, hands stuffed in his pockets. He toddles back and forth on his feet for a moment before speaking again. 

“Thanks for the performance, miss,” it’s soft, “Means a lot to the men.”

Your laugh is cynically sharp and the Lieutenant does a double take.

“I’m sure listening to a half-rate sing-along of Vera Lynn really does the job,” you snap, “We’re really doing our part, aren’t we?”

Ron toes the dirt, head tilted. His tone is careful -- despite his fearless and ruthless reputation among the companies, Ron knows hell hath no fury like a woman; and you’re beautiful. Angering you is hardly in his best interest lest he wants the entirety of Easy churning up more rumors.

“You don’t seem to think so?”

“No,” you muster, “We’re show ponies -- you boys are fighting a war and... and a song and dance is supposed to make that better?”

Ron laughs -- a roll of a chuckle that he’s sure would startle Malarkey into a shade of grey -- before dumping his cigarette into the mud and toeing it dead. “It’s a distraction.”

“It’s ridiculous.”

A pause. “I rather liked the Vera Lynn...”

He says it so quietly, so dejectedly, that it makes you laugh -- gentle and genuine for the first time in days. Very quickly the air of irritation you’d held before seems to dissipate. 

You duck your head, hide your smile, flick your cigarette. “Well... I suppose it’s not for nothing, then.”

Ron is proud of the reaction, though he doesn’t let it show. It manifests in a stray smirk and a lean against the brick wall. He crosses his arms, rank flashing in the light. 

“Where are you from?”

“Boston,” he works another cigarette from his carton and you watch with interest as a golden lighter is tugged from his pocket. It glints, and you swear you spot German inscription along the side. You say nothing, though. “And yourself?”

“New York.”

Ron makes a sour face. “You like the Yankees?”

Your face splits into a grin, features glowing in the light of the bar-room. It stirs something in Ron’s chest, and despite the self-evident need for distance, he’s tempted to close it and stand a little bit closer.

“Ma wants me to marry Joe DiMaggio.”

“Oh, come on,” the Lieutenant guffaws, “DiMaggio? Really?”

You both settle into a quiet lull, listening to the on-goings of the bar behind you. Inside, you can hear Jenny and Mary singing and cheering and laughing along with the men -- you wonder if they’re dancing. 

The more you watch the man beside you, the more you wonder if he would like the dance.

“At this rate, Ma isn’t picky.”

He hums. “Mine as well, assuming I survive this war.”

That alone makes your heart ache; the awareness of death is something you’d never wanted to consider. Ignorance is bliss. You hear Mary screeching and your head swings back to find her happy in the arms of some redheaded sergeant. 

The man beside you catches your eyes, lips quirking as you duck in a bashful way; he seems to note your relief. He’s handsome, you realize, and you wonder if dancing is something he’d --

“Curfew in five minutes!”

It’s the MPs, combing through the bar with raised voices.

A young one with the navy band across his shoulder pokes his head out the back of the bar, eyes landing on you -- the officer stiffens at the realization of the man beside you and greets his superior with a firm salute.

“Curfew in five minutes, Lieutenant Speirs,” his voice seems to quake, “We’re on light restriction orders tonight.”

Speirs gives a salute, dismissing the MP before turning to you. The bar has started to filter out -- soldiers gripping their USO clad girls. Your eyes are wary, watching the interactions with a reserved amount of worry. The men are rowdy and no doubt looking to cause trouble.

“Would you like me to walk you back to your billet, miss?”

You blink. “Yes. Please.”

The rain has tapered off to a light sprinkle, but the chocolate colored army jacket is still slung over your head as you walk without question -- the man beside you, Speirs the MP had said, catches you in a quick stride; the house you’d been set up in is already dark. 

His hair has startled to curl a bit in the rain, and in the light of the lamp post you can see the light appearance of stubble. Outside the door, you blink up at him. He catches your eyes again, moving to open his mouth just as you do and you both slip into a pause of silence. 

He laughs and you smother a smile.

“I never got your name.”

Your face splits into a smile and he repeats it back, happy with how well it fits -- happy with how willingly you’d given it to him. 

“I’m assuming Lieutenant isn’t your first name...?”

“It’s Ron,” he ducks his eyes, “And -- thank you again. I enjoyed your Vera Lynn routine.”

Another pause, and you don’t really want to go into the house. You turn, only before doubling back.

“Could I write you, Ron?”

A blink.

“... Of course,” he says finally after a burning heartbeat, “I would like that... I -- Perhaps I could --... You’re staying here?”

“For the next few days, yes.”

“Are you... free tomorrow night?”

“Well,” you say slowly, “I’ll be singing Vera Lynn again --”

Ron laughs, waving his hand. “Right.”

“But after, I’m all yours Lieutenant.” 

He won’t be good for her, throwing himself out planes and digging in -- but he keeps his mouth shut and smiles, wishing this damn war was over.

#ron speirs imagine #band of brothers imagine #ron speirs x reader #bob imagine #bob reader insert #Anonymous

[gooberjam]

If You've had them, tell us about your going through the following phases (1) furry (2) scene (3) goth (4) anime (5) sonic the hedgehog

my sonic the hedgehog phase was back in elementary school. i actually played pretend sonic with my friends on the playground, and i’d play amy because i thought her hammer was cool and i had a crush on the kid who was sonic. i remember getting super jealous tho when one of my friends picked out cream bc i didn’t know cream was a character bc i had only played sonic adventure 2 and some og sonic port to the gameboy advance, plus watched some sonic underground/sonic x. i was like fuck i wanna be a cute bunny girl

anime phase was in middle school. the first anime i legit watched was inuyasha, and i watched ALL of it which is a feat considering all the fuckn movies and episodes. gotdam disaster when it can basically be summed up by inuyasha screaming out kagome’s name and kagome screaming back inuyasha’s. that was also back when i was really sensitive to horror/gore stuff so i remember watching the first episode with the centipede boob lady and getting really flustered and having to take a while before pushing through the rest of the episode. i think actually watching the entirety of that show helped me numb out how much spooky/gory stuff effected me.

despite watching the entire thing of inuyasha, the anime i got the most into was fruits basket and i lowkey rp’d some mad embarrassing stuff with one of my friends abt it.

later on i got into naruto sorta. when gaara wasn’t such a big deal anymore i dropped out bc honestly i think he was the only character i really attached to. death note was another big one that i blazed through and subsequently barely remember-- i just know the whole naruto/death note thing led me to cosplay stuff on youtube. specifically twinfools. that shit fascinated me so hard and introduced me to the whole concept of cosplay and cons, and also because this was way back in middle school the idea of trans stuff too bc that’s when twin came out and started taking t. they kickstarted a lot of big stuff in my life so i kinda always have this weird mentor-type attitude when it comes to them even tho i haven’t kept up with their stuff for a while.

i think my scene phase was also in middle school? but it was very dialed back and mostly just amounted to me participating in the og memes and then that was sorta it

i think i’m slowly falling into my goth phase tbh. i want to be goth

#asks #about me #Anonymous