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chrysolipsist · 7 months

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mid 20th century furniture and early 21st century disease

I bought myself an Eames chair because I spend so much time sitting at my desk at home for both work and leisure, I figured I am destroying my body by being in an office chair so much. In fact, I'm fairly convinced this is true. My body already revolted against me once a couple years ago where, for a period of weeks, my ass hurt like hell every time I tried sitting in a chair and it even took some physical therapy to get out of that condition. I've used a cushion most of the time since then (and I bought a nicer chair), but it still doesn't seem like enough.

I thought what might be a nicer setup would be to get a lounge chair with a lap desk to put my keyboard and mouse on. I bought a $150 chair on Amazon that looked pretty comfy, but it turned out that it wasn't all that comfortable to sit on for long periods of time. And yes, I don't really like that this is my life, but the fact of the matter is, much of my day consists of sitting in front of a computer screen. I've been trying to get away from that, and recently started going to the gym. In fact, I've lost 10 pounds since doing so. But there is a long way to go. Anyway, my first experiment failed and I kept searching for the ideal chair for my intended setup.

I was traveling for work a while back and I encountered the Eames chair in the lobby of a hotel. I came down, got some food and a drink from the bar, and sat in their Eames chair for a while, chatting with a friend on the phone. After a good couple hours, it still felt very comfortable. The only problem with this chair is that it costs nearly a month's salary to get one, if you buy from the high end of the market. I could wipe out about a third of my remaining student loans for the price of this chair. Obviously I didn't go for the high-end model. Instead, I found a "cheap" knockoff on sale for about 8% of that price, or $600, which still seems like a lot of money for a chair to me. But I figured, what the hell. If nothing else, it looks nice. I think it looks like what someone I used to know would have described as "swank". Long story short, I ordered the chair.

I have COVID again, by the way. This is the second time I've gotten it since the start of the pandemic. Not wanting to acquire long COVID, I've been trying to mostly rest, in the hopes that this would give my immune system ample time and energy to fight it off. After a couple days, I feel better. Today I did remote meetings, and by the end of the day, I was feeling run down, when the chair was delivered. I assembled the thing somewhat leisurely; it wasn't too hard to put together, despite the instructions being written in very questionable English, and actually incorrect (thankfully, there was an online video showing the steps). The hardest part was attaching the arms to the flange that connects the back to the seat. The last arm took over an hour to attach, whereas the rest of the chair took less than half that time. The problem was, I had to use my left hand to tighten a bolt while pushing the arm down onto the flange, but once I got the arm close enough to push the bolt in, I could no longer see where the bolt was going. It felt like the bolt was in place, and I was turning it, and it gave the impression that it was going in, but this turned out not to be the case. I pulled up on the arm and it came right off. I must have done this about a hundred times, getting increasingly irritated. As in: how fucking stupid am I that I can't get this to work? Why couldn't they have made the bolt just 1/8 of an inch longer? I got so angry and frustrated that I think I forced all my COVID symptoms to disappear out of pure rage; as soon as I finally got the fucking thing bolted on, I felt a bit wiped out. Hopefully, I didn't give myself some sort of long-term problem by spending my late afternoon putting this chair together.

Now, I really can't tell whether this chair is identical to the one in the hotel lobby. As far as I can tell, the build of my chair is absolutely identical to the one on the expensive furniture company's website. It is visually indistinguishable to me. Maybe some kind of furniture expert could tell. It feels about as comfortable as the one I sat in before, and I seem to doubt that the people operating that hotel would have actually paid $8,000 for a chair to sit in their lobby. I feel like their chair may have been a bit softer, but that might just be because mine is new and the foam in the cushions is still a bit stiff. Anyway, I feel like $600 was a fair price for this chair.

When I was a kid, at my grandparents' house, my grandfather and my aunt used to sit in the living room in two recliners sitting side-by-side, separated by a table with a lamp and an ashtray, facing a TV set on the other side of the room. They would sit there most of the day, watching television. My grandfather would chain smoke, with his jaw hanging open, flipping the dial. I remember he would pause momentarily on things like wrestling, or exercise programs where women were bent over doing stretches. Meanwhile, my aunt would knit, and my grandmother went about doing all of the domestic duties around the house. My aunt had some kind of mental condition I don't really know the full details of. She was epileptic, and slightly developmentally disabled. She was able to work at a Goodwill store for a while. She was petite when she was 20-something, and she probably could have lived semi-independently, but they discouraged her from doing that. Instead, she spent most of her adult life rocking in a recliner, knitting blankets that smelled like tobacco smoke since they'd been marinated in it. And she grew steadily larger during the '80s, '90s, 2000s, and 2010s, becoming diabetic somewhere along the way. My grandfather died in 2016, and my aunt had a stroke and died a couple years later, leaving my grandmother behind.

I always found her condition a little sad, but it was nothing I had any ability to do anything about. When I look in the mirror at myself now, having taken poor care of myself for nearly half as many decades, I see part of her looking back in my own round and too-chubby face. I have the same overall face shape shared by my grandmother, my dad, and my son. All three of them are in pretty good shape compared to myself. Meanwhile, I'm doing to myself what happened to my aunt: consigning myself to a lifetime of sitting in comfortable chairs, only I'm marinating in work rather than smoke.

I recently began exercising to try to counteract about 15 years of neglect, and as I said earlier, I did lose a little weight, but I really need to lose at least another hundred twenty pounds. I didn't exercise when I was traveling the past week, and then I caught COVID. In an effort to avoid getting long-term symptoms, I thought I had better just rest until it's completely gone before starting the exercise again. That's if the advice I've read has any element of truth to it. You can read articles all day on what to do and what not to do, and get contradictory advice from seemingly legitimate sources. This is without even considering the nutcases and hucksters recommending off-label use of veterinary drugs, supplements, or metal colloids. After I rolled the heavy box containing the chair into the house this afternoon, I felt temporarily overwhelmed with fatigue. I would really be unhappy if that happened to me every time I tried to exercise. But, when I was putting the chair together, I think I exerted myself even more, but I felt perfectly fine. I'd like to think, although I doubt it could be true, that I tapped into the power of pure unrefined anger to render the coronavirus paralyzed with fear.

Well, I wrote most of this so far in the new chair, and it has worked pretty well. I could imagine doing the majority of my work in this position. It's better than the office chair so far, I think. We'll see. But even as I have found what I think might be a new and improved way of organizing my home office space, I really need to get away from spending so much of my life sitting down and typing. I reason that if I can get to a healthy weight within five years, I could enjoy the remainder of my 40s in much better condition, and the following decade, a chance at a little middle-age renaissance, before the inevitable old age, and oblivion. That's if I don't cough myself to death first.

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lunarvalleysbetterplanet · 1 year

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Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. Winter is my favorite time of year, despite living in Florida where it barely even drops below 60 degrees. I've always found all the lights and the music very comforting. My favorite Christmas movie (Elf) and hot cider with twinkling lights on the Christmas tree. Family dinners with kids running around. Sitting around a bonfire laughing with friends and drinking wine. Even Christmas eve service added to that sense of holiday joy. Singing Christmas carols and holding a candle. It wasn't necessarily the religious aspect that gave me joy, but more the community of it.

I spent from the time I was around 8 years old until 18 heavily involved in church. Then, it was much sporadic. I'd go through religious phases that would last a few months before I'd give up and return to my actual self. In July of last year, I fell into one of those spirals and for some reason, it was much worse than usual. It lasted an entire year for starters. I joined a reformed Christian church, got re-baptized (for the first time as an adult, third overall) and just fully jumped into living the most pious, devout lifestyle I could. It took a full blown mental breakdown to snap me out of it.

Christmas during this time last year was easier than ever. I was more palatable and tolerable for most of my family. I was forcing myself to agree with whatever the Bible said, including what it says about women. I spent a lot of effort trying to force myself into the ideal version of a woman. Softer, gentler, less passionate and less sarcastic. I tried carving out all of my queerness. I lost everything that makes me lovely. I was reading the Bible for literally hours and hours a day. I wouldn't listen to "secular music" and I basically stopped engaging any media that wasn't Bible approved. I went to small group, bible studies and ladies events. I served in Children's ministry. I was busier and more social than I've been in years.

And I was numb. I was disassociated because I didn't want to face that I was depressed and miserable. I gained a lot of weight. I nearly ruined the relationships with my sister and best friend who were watching me turn into a person I would have hated. But god, Christmas was easy. No arguments over politics or me being too much. My family was overjoyed to see me back in church.

Fast forward to June of this year. I have my first of three mental breakdowns. Things had not been good since like January. I was struggling and taking that as a sign I was being #theverybestchristian because the Bible says we are supposed to suffer for Christ afterall. I struggled and struggled. Cried constantly. Prayed till I was blue in the face. Upped my daily Bible reading. Until I had one second where I was sitting in my house and I looked around and said audibly to myself "What the fuck have I done? Who am I?"

And after that mental breakdown, I tried to plod on. I'd done irreparable damage to my ability to pretend I was happy or that things were okay. July I have another minor breakdown. Then August I have the big one. I am nearly unfunctional in my mental breakdown. It's triggered by me googling about spiritual drought. I start to google why I would be having these religious phases. I know it's over now. I come across a tweet and it rocks my entire world.

It had literally never crossed my mind that others go through this. I realize I do have a ton of religious trauma. I text my therapist and start going regularly again. I deconstruct, fully and actually work through why I was so afraid of hell. Why I believe what I believe. I deconvert. I realize I will no longer be a Christian. Not even a backslidden 'I'm not dealing with this but I'll come home later' one. I won't have the crutch of prayer.

Now, I am clearly dealing with some shit. My depression is raging. My house is a disaster. I've pulled away from my family because I know how they are going to take this. (They do not take it well)

I am not okay. I am working on healing. But, for once in my fucking life and I am letting myself actually work through all my trauma. I skipped Thanksgiving. Sat alone and got high. Ordered Chinese and cried, a lot. I won't miss Christmas because I love it. I have always loved it. It's gonna hurt like a motherfucker though. The soul aching loneliness that I am dealing with both from the loss of religion and the fact that I am alone. I have very few friends, no romantic prospects and being with my family is so complicated. I am so lonely it hurts physically in my chest. I find myself crying quite frequently. I am leaning into this.

I put on my 'Make the Yuletide Gay' playlist and make hot chocolate. I read holiday themed fan fiction and cry. I will go look at lights, the only single person amongst my family. I'll put up my sad little artificial tree and watch Elf with my cat. I am getting better. I won't lose the genuine love I have for this time of year.

#tw for religious trauma #tw for depression #//personal//

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keefwho · 1 year

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November 23 - 2022

8:16 AM

Today I thought keeping a schedule with actual times might help me out. I tend to switch back and forth between rigid hours and a simple checklist for the day. Usually I find that I’ll slowly become less compatible with whatever system I am using until I realize that and switch to another one. Now I’m realizing that a checklist with no time might not be working so well anymore so I gotta switch back to hours.

4:39 PM

I decided to pressure myself all I want and not worry about exhaustion until 6pm, then I’ll consider myself responsibility free. Its worth a try. I imagine the ideal cycle would be diligent work in the morning where I let myself become fatigued in exchange for a truly free night.

8:10 PM

I think like so many people reaching adulthood, I lost touch of the things that truly make me happy. As a kid you kind of just do them, but then you get older and try to do the “right” thing instead. I’m definitely a victim of molding to what others expect me to be. I think over time it’s evolved to be one of my biggest issues that thankfully I’ve been tackling lately by focusing on myself more, especially on weekends. I realize every time I judge myself for not being productive enough, it’s the voice of other people and what THEY expect from me. If I was the last person on earth then I wouldn’t feel the need to do a lot of what I do. During free time like I have right now, I try to listen to my heart more and what it’s telling me. I try not to judge what I ACTUALLY want to do which is usually getting immersed into a chill game and thinking for awhile. Or doing it in a call with a friend.

It feels liberating to learn that true value comes from inside me. It feels very human. Because the more I can learn to be myself, the better I’ll connect with the people around me that are also themselves. Its very wholesome.

8:40 PM

Right now I feel kind of enlightened and I’m operating very well. The challenge is learning how to spot when I’m having a tough time and why so I can remind myself of some of the core values I always lose touch with over time. Usually I get in a kind of low place and it takes time to remember why I shouldn’t be so down. Most if not all of my low moods have a direct counter if I can just apply them.

Im starting to think the counter for being so stressed out about having to be productive is some proper rest and self care. So thats what Im focusing on tonight. I want art to be fun or at least enlightening again, even commissions. I’m tired of it feeling like a job I have disdain for. It used to be more meaningful.

11:26 PM

Sometimes I get down on myself for not “experiencing” much. Like, I can’t say I saw the grand canyon or went horseback riding or anything like that. But that might be those external pressures talking. The reality is I don’t want to do things like that. I’m happy living my life a little calmer than that. And I do not regret all the people I’ve met and relationships I’ve formed even if it’s only online. I’ve had countless amazing nights with friends and while I may not remember many specific instances, I do remember how fun it was. I might even look back on VRchat screenshots in 20 years and reminisce.

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lucysweatslove · 2 years

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Journal 8/16/2022

I struggled a bit to sleep last night. I was kind of ready for bed around 10:15, but I climbed into bed and worked on my planner some more waiting for Husband, who didn’t actually come to bed until nearly midnight as he lost track of time playing video games. Although I had turned on a podcast, which is my usual bedtime routine, I was too absorbed and didn’t end up falling asleep until past 1.

Usually I wake at 8-8:30, so 1AM isn’t HORRIBLY late, but this morning I had PT and has to wake up at 6:30. My alarm was SO LOUD that it woke my husband, too, and my ear rang a little after. Whoops.

PT was fine- we didn’t do a lot of exercises as we spent the first 30 min or so taking about how my PT is moving clinic offices (same hospital group, but he’s moving to the hospital clinic and I’m closer to another outpatient clinic). We considered being done with PT, but I had another spasm from 5lb straight leg dead lifts and I was worried about increasing activity. So, we are setting me up for follow-up with the same DPT that worked with my husband before and after his hip surgeries. I did 40 on regular deadlifts during PT (along with lat pull downs, trunk twists, and these upper-mid back rotations that caused problems).

Breakfast: scrambled eggs with spinach, tomatoes, and half a Field Roast apple and sage sausage; avocado toast; cantaloupe and blackberries; cinnamon roll caffeine oat bar; electrolyte drink.

The electrolyte drink and oat bar weren’t part of my original plan, but I felt like I needed them after PT. Especially the caffeine 😅

My supervisor cancelled our first “weekly meeting,” which I feel ambivalent about. On one hand, I think the 1:1’s will be a waste of both of our time. I leave in less than two months. I have nothing to talk about or say. On the other hand, I planned my day around this meeting since it occurs outside my typical Tuesday hours, so to have it cancelled maybe an hour and a half in advance instead of like, the night before, was frustrating.

Lunch: Turkey wrap with spinach and Muenster cheese, pomegranate Greek yogurt (i flavor or myself with flavor oils), and a plum!

Work was status quo awful. The doc I worked for today will take like 30 min to do a 20 min visit and though she will communicate really well with the pt, she gives us very little to go off of lately. We do the ENTIRE note recently including the full assessment and plan and the procedures including findings, but she won’t give us… like… anything meaningful. She used to dictate or write in a few things herself but she really hasn’t since becoming a new mom. I don’t entirely blame her for that, but it makes my job MUCH harder. I ended up working an extra 40ish minutes to finish the last note since she got super behind.

On a brighter side, many of the items I got for my sister and a couple of my new clothing items for the trip to a theme park this weekend came today, and they fit well enough. I’m trying to be okay with the sizes and how I look in them- my body deserves clothes that fit if, not the other way around- but I am struggling with it. Husband said the new shorts look good on me though!

Today I also read a fair bit of journal articles about fecal calorie loss and differing weight responses to calorie surpluses/over feeding studies. I find that stuff really interesting. I’ve known CICO is a gross oversimplification, and that while the laws of thermodynamics can’t be violated, humans are not closed systems or perfect, ideal machines. What this means is that we cannot assume that all energy we eat is actually harvested for our use, and unless we are meticulously measuring the energy is EVERYTHING we put out into the universe- from heat energy to energy found in undigested food or glucose or protein in our urine, we can’t really determine both how much we are intaking and how much we are expending. I decided to look into it more fully today, and log story short, the energy left in our waste varies SUBSTANTIALLY from people. One study showed a anywhere from 2-10% of daily intake were found in their stool. I know I’m ranting but it really showed how CICO sounds simple but translating it to humans is complicated.

Dinner: Wendy’s Junior fries and strawberry frosty with 5pc chicken nuggets (I ordered 6 😭)

Husband finished work like 2 hours before me, so he went to a brewery and decided he wanted door dash for dinner. I’ve been wanting to try the strawberry frosty, so I went with it.

Finishing my day once again in the tub to relax before bed. I’m thankful I don’t have to be up early again tomorrow because it’s going to be hell. I’m working with that same doc, but it’s all day instead of just PM clinic, and I’m also working with the peds ENT in her hearing and communications clinic- a pain because she doesn’t introduce patients and it’s all telehealth so we can’t see the patients AND it’s often hard to tell just based on parent voices 🙃 thankfully it’s the last day before I have to go to my parents’ and then later this weekend… theme park fun.

#personal #what I eat in a day #journal

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captaindibbzy · 2 years

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Two things that have been on my mind lately are

1. The degree to which one must financially compensate for being single

2. How a simple life is almost considered a ridiculous expense, particularly for the disabled.

Like, this comes down to a very simple life goal.

I want to own a 2 bedroom cottage, with a small garden, where I can live for the rest of my life. Like, I'm not talking loads of land, or a huge house with many bedrooms. A room for me, a room for guests that can double as a craft room. I can keep pets, like chickens and dogs. A kitchen that is mine.

I want to be able to eat nice food. I want to be able to wear nice clothes. I want to be able to have a hobby I enjoy, and company, and friends.

Along side this house I would like to be financially stable enough to occasionally go on a nice holiday somewhere quiet.

In order to be financially stable enough for this house by myself I can't settle for a "low end" job. Houses like this start at about £200,000. A mortgage is usually 4 or 5 times the annual salary of the people getting it.

When you are buying a house with two people this instantly boosts your available buying power by 2 if you are both employed. As an aroace partnership isn't something I want. I have to financially compensate for this.

So in order to afford that house with a garden I am instantly looking at needing a salary of £40,000 a year.

Data Entry tails off at about £25,000 a year for example.

My last job I lost was £21,000.

Because I am aware of my limitations I have to put in place a few limits to stop myself from making myself sick trying to keep up with the ableds.

This job can not be more than 40 hours a week, and ideally will be less as working that much will make me sick. No more than 8 hours in a single day for the same reason. I can not start too early in the day or finish too late at night because I require 9 hours in which to realistically rest, and still need time to do Life Things like eat, but also I can not drive so Travel Things cause commute is not paid. At least 1 hour in the evening to realistically sit and exist without having to do something is quite important for mental health. So I can't do things like start at 8am and finish at 6.

And it all adds up doesn't it? In order to have what is ultimately a very modest life where I can look after my health I can break it down two ways.

I need a career that will give me enough money to live and will give me adequate time to rest.

Or to put it in actual physical terms.

A job that will pay me more than £40,000 a year (not accounting for inflation), while letting me work less than 40 hours a week (8 hours a day).

And doesn't that sound like I want too much?

#personal #scuze my rambling

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rose2jam · 3 years

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Why It Was Practically Inevitable That Severus Snape Would Join A Cult, an essay by Rose Jam

So, let’s talk about Cults. Disclaimer: This is just information I’ve gathered over the years from my personal fascination with religious cults. I’m in no way an expert or a psychologist or whatever. This is just my personal understanding from the research I’ve done.

A cult is started when a wildly charismatic Leader feels like they have a purpose, a higher calling, or a mission to be fulfilled (or they could also just be an egomaniac). Maybe they really do feel like what makes them special comes directly from a higher power, be that God, or the Heir of Slytherin, but either way, this person has a pathological need to be worshiped, and they need followers in order to do that.

So, how does one obtain Followers easily? By finding the misunderstood misfits of society, and promising them something. The people who feel like no one else understands them, or their ideologies. But this Leader? This Leader GETS IT, MAN! The Leader understands them perfectly, vindicates them, and makes them promises along the way. Like, if they stick with the Leader, then not only will they finally be understood, but they themselves will also be revered. That they will rise above all of the others who have put them down for so long, and will come out on top as a superior being.

Any of this sounding familiar?

Charles Manson preyed on young people in the middle of the hippie movement, mostly women, who were feeling lost, lonely, and in need of guidance, or in terms of the men he recruited, seeking power over others. Not all of these people were poor or helpless; some of them came from middle class, or even rich homes and families. Yes, some of them came from broken homes, but all of them felt “broken” themselves, in some way. So Manson used their desires to have a family to draw them in. He then used LSD and other drugs to keep them under his control, and he created a manipulative environment where the members of his “family” felt they could never leave him, and if they didn’t follow his commands, something horrible would happen to them. I’m not going to go into full detail on the Manson Family Murders, but if you’re personally interested, check out the Podcast “Cults” on Spotify.

So back to basics, this Leader draws in Followers with flowery promises of community, power, family, or whatever. But once the Leader has that following, the terror will begin. Cult Leaders are usually master manipulators, and have completely brainwashed their followers into believing the “us vs them” mentality, that the outside world is evil, that the outside world will only harm them, that the outside world would never understand what they’re doing on the inside. And that the Leader is the only one who knows the truth, so they better stick with him. Or maybe the Leader has gaslit his followers so completely, that they become dependent on him for everything, to the point where they don’t know how they would possibly function without the Leader. Or, the Leader has created an environment that’s so hostile, that Followers are too afraid of what might happen to them if they tried to leave, or didn’t do what the Leader commanded. Typically, it’s a combination of all of the above. Destructive cults will either hurt others outside of their circle (The Manson Family, Sect of Nacozari), harm themselves (Heaven’s Gate, The Ant Hill Kids), or both (The People’s Temple, Aum Sinrikyo).

Now that I’ve laid this foundation, I’m going to tell you why it was practically inevitable that Severus Snape would join a cult.

Snape’s childhood ultimately laid the foundation for the mental state he would be in when he decided to join the Death Eaters. He grew up in an abusive household, where his father, the muggle, had his magical wife so thoroughly whipped, that she couldn’t (or chose not to) use magic to defend herself, or her son (1). Eileen had obviously told Severus about magic, about Hogwarts, about what a wonderful place it was, and what a wonderful gift magic could be. Severus also watched as Tobias beat the magic out of her. (I know it’s debated whether Tobias actually physically abused his family, but he certainly verbally/mentally/emotionally abused them, so the term “beat” could be used figuratively as well). I don’t think it’s unreasonable to believe that Severus developed an extreme hatred of muggles with “burn the witch” mentalities from a very young age because of this.

Enter Lily, perhaps the only other magical person in his life besides his mother up to this point. He sees her using magic out in the open, perhaps recklessly, for fun, and he sees an opportunity to make a friend (and, admittedly, to be smarter than someone about something for a while). He was so eager to tell her all about magic, because getting to learn magic, and go to Hogwarts, has possibly been the only thing keeping him going in his young life. And now he’s made a friend, a real friend who doesn’t think he’s weird because he’s magical. Unlike Petunia, yet another muggle who makes fun of him for being weird (2). And Lily actually seems to like him back. For a kid who probably hasn’t received a lot of affection in his life, this is monumental. This friendship is everything. Why wouldn’t he love her?

So the time finally comes to go to Hogwarts. Severus gets to escape his abusive household, and finally has an opportunity to embrace magic for the first time in his life. But almost immediately, he’s met with a hic-up. Specifically, James Potter and Sirius Black. So Severus is no longer facing abuse exclusively from muggles who think he’s weird, but now he’s also getting it from other magical people who think he’s weird (3). And this started on the fucking TRAIN before he even GOT to Hogwarts. You can’t tell me that wouldn’t sour a kids dream right off the fucking bat. And then, when he finally gets there, he’s separated from his only friend, by being sorted into different houses (4). What a way for a life-long dream to be thoroughly dashed in less than 24 hours.

Let’s look at Snape’s Hogwarts experience. He’s a good student, and he pours himself into learning as much magic as possible, and at being the best he can possibly be, probably motivated by a desire to be better than what his Father thinks possible. During this time, he is regularly bullied and abused by the Marauders. Sometime before his 5th year, the Incident at the Shrieking Shack took place. It definitely sucks to have been so thoroughly fucking duped, and put into a life-threatening situation involving a goddamn werewolf (5). But perhaps even worse than that, the salt in the wound, was that no one fucking did anything about it (6). He saw Sirius and James and Remus get out of that situation without facing any sort of proper punishment (as in, they all still stayed at the school as opposed to being expelled like they DEFINITELY SHOULD HAVE BEEN (At least Sirius should have been)). Dumbledore was looking out for the Marauders, but no one was looking out for Severus. On top of that, Severus isn’t allowed to TELL anyone about it, not even Lily. So, he goes through what was possibly one of the most traumatic experiences of his life, and he can’t even tell anyone that it happened.

So, what sort of support system does Severus have during all this? He has Lily, sure (who literally told him he should be GRATEFUL to James, one of his abusers). But, what he really has, is Slytherin House (7). I’ll say it plainly: Severus was sorted into a house that was already full of existing cult members. McGonagall says in Sorcerer’s Stone that “Your house will be like your family” (she at least says it in the movies, I’m too lazy to get up and reference my books rn lol). So, Severus’ family, his support system, for 10 months out of every year, is a house that is already full to the brim with pureblood elitists with prejudiced ideals, who would absolutely vindicate Severus in his dislike for muggles. As a kid first getting sorted into the house, it’s obviously not unreasonable to become friends with the people you’re literally living with. His dorm mates became his family. So, when his dorm mates started to become Death Eaters… This is headcanon, I fully admit, but like, fuck, Severus didn’t have a lot of friends, and was probably already drifting apart from Lily. Do you really think he was going to tell the people he had to live with every single day, not to mention the only people that had been supporting him for years, to go fuck themselves for using Dark Magic? Especially when he was probably feeling like he was on the verge of thinking that their rhetoric made some sense?

On to Snape’s Worst Memory (8). At this point, he’s spent 5 years in Slytherin House, with fellow students who casually throw around the M word. He gets attacked by James and Sirius, he’s practically defenseless, and then the girl who he’d considered his closest friend for so long… has to force herself not to smile when he’s thrown upside down and exposed to everyone on the grounds. Sure, she was trying to defend him at first, but she also fucking nearly smiled at his humiliation, his pain, his abuse. So he hurls the one word that he knows is going to cut the deepest, that will hopefully hurt her as badly as she has hurt him. And it works.

Severus had been beaten down his entire life. By Muggles and Magic Folk alike. And finally, he’s betrayed by Lily, his last lifeline to the light. He betrayed her as well, of course. But he did try to show remorse. And she doesn’t forgive him (9), which was her prerogative, of course.

So. Who does he have left?

I’ve placed little (numbers) throughout my writing here. Each of those numbers denote the specific events that led Severus to becoming an angry young man, who hates muggles, hates (some) magic folk, and resulted in him feeling weak, helpless, and desperate. For what? For power, for a family, for a community. For a world where he is no longer the weird one. For a world where he’s respected, strong. For the world he thought he was going to be a part of, when he arrived at Hogwarts in his first year.

And it just so happens that this is the exact world that Voldemort is (allegedly) trying to create.

Severus Snape was angry, and vulnerable, and as such, he was practically the poster child for the type of person who would be susceptible to falling for a cult. Maybe he was recruited by his friends in Slytherin House. Maybe he was recruited directly. Either way, charismatic Tom Riddle came along, understood how he felt, where he was coming from, told him he deserved better, and offered him all of the things he never had in his life. And being at rock bottom, being the lowest of the low, to Severus it must have seemed like a miracle of an opportunity, or perhaps, like the only chance he had left.

Now, let me be extremely clear; everything I’ve written is not trying to EXCUSE Severus Snape for his actions. There is always a point where personal responsibility must come into play. Except for children born into cults or victims of kidnapping, nearly every person who has ever joined a cult has made the personal decision to join it. I’m just trying to express how unbelievably easy it is, for a Cult Leader to find people with damaged lives and low self-worth, to suck them in with promises of a fulfilling life and grandeur, and for those people to be easily swept up and brainwashed into believing that what they are doing is right. (Or that what they are doing is required, because the alternative is more horrifying.)

The type of people who joined the Death Eaters are the same type of people who joined Heaven’s Gate, or The People’s Temple, or yes, The Manson Family. Now, I’m just going to say, from my own personal point of view, I do not vilify anyone who’s ever joined a destructive cult. On the contrary, I feel sorry for them. Because most people who join a cult, don’t necessarily do it signing up for the… end result of what happened to them. Some of them totally do, like Heaven’s Gate. Most of them knew that the end result was going to be the “evacuation of their earthly vessel”. But the people who joined the Manson Family, for instance, did not initially join it KNOWING how it was going to end. They were part of the family long before Manson even came up with Helter Skelter, and by the time the Tate-LaBianca Murders took place, they were already too far gone to go against it.

I highly recommend anyone who’s interested in a humanizing view of former cult members, to read the essay “Leslie Van Houten: A Friendship” by John Waters. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/leslie-van-houten-a-frien_b_246953

Or, at the very least, listen to this 7 minute NPR interview with John Waters about the essay https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=111585116

It’s the story of how notorious film maker John Waters, became friends with former Manson Girl, Leslie Van Houten, and about how she broke away from the cult after her conviction, how she’s spent the last 51 years of her life recovering from the psychotic influence of a maniac who’d promised her the world, and how even though she was convicted to life WITH a possibility of parole, it’s never been granted to her, despite the fact that she has done literally everything possible to try and atone for her crimes.

Maybe I’m just a bleeding heart. I’m pretty much the only person I know who feels sorry for Leslie Van Houten and other cult members who were brainwashed, abused, and manipulated into doing a lot of the horrible things they’ve done. But there are people in the world, who have committed FAR more heinous crimes than the Manson Family murders, and who are far less repentant than Leslie, but because those crimes weren’t as notorious, they get to walk free.

Addendum: When I first posted this, I had a few people point out to me that they had always associated Voldemort and the Death Eaters with Hitler and Nazi Germany. This is a perfectly fair point, but one that I personally don’t jive with, and the reason is simply the numbers. There were literally millions of people in the Nazi party during WW2. Death Eaters don’t even reach triple digits, as far as I’m aware. As I hinted at in this essay, I consider Voldemort and the Death Eaters to be MUCH closer to Charles Manson and the Manson Family. The Manson Family 100% had Nazi ideology, of course. "Helter Skelter” was Charles Manson’s prediction that there was going to be a massive race war; one that the Whites were going to lose, and that he and his Pure White family would emerge from it in order to rule over the remaining Blacks. Kinda... sounds like a Death Eater thing, huh?

Sorry. Back to Snape. There is a lot we don’t know about Severus’ actual time as a Death Eater. I think it can be reasonably assumed he’s never actually killed anyone before Dumbledore (In Prince’s Tale, Severus questions if his soul would be safe from killing Dumbledore, and Dumbledore implies that his soul would not be damaged by helping an old man avoid pain and humiliation. This leads me to believe that Severus never committed any soul-damaging murders before this). Beyond being a sneaky spy and delivering the prophecy to Voldemort, his time as a Death Eater is all up for conjecture.

Severus does make one important deviation from the typical cult member mold, however. In the end, he manages to break away from the cult. The scales fall from his eyes. In a figurative sense, the LSD has worn off. What made him sober up, was the threat to his last lifeline to the light. The one good fucking thing he’d ever had in his miserable life. He was brought back by genuine love. Ya know, the ENTIRE MESSAGE OF THE HP SERIES. And not only did he leave the cult, but he then spent the rest of his life actively attempting to destroy it, and atone for the mistakes he’s made, in an effort to bring back the world he’d been excited for, as an 11-year-old kid, so full of hope.

#Snape Meta #Severus Snape #Pro Snape #Snapedom #Snape Community #This will be the TRUE test of the tags #Essay Jam #Why It Was Practically Inevitable That Severus Snape Would Join A Cult

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lady-eny · 2 years

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Title: On the Nature of Duty (3/?)

Cross-posting on: AO3

Some tags: AU - Spies & Secret Agents, Enemies to Lovers, Action, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Mikenana, Minor Zekehan, Minor Character Death, Reincarnation

Summary:

When Levi, Eldia’s best agent, is sent to kill the marleyan star analyst Hange Zoe, he doesn’t expect what awaits him.

Forced to team up with his enemies to save the world, he soon starts losing sight of his duty. Despite reminding himself how much he hates her, being around Hange makes him question everything he thought was true.

Levi can’t prevent his brain from scrambling at her mere presence, ever closer…

Perhaps it’s that he knows her from a long time ago…

Other Chapters: 1 2 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 Notes: Thanks for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated✨

Chapter 3:

“Good morning, Sannes,” she said with a smile pasted on her mouth. Her act was on. “This’ll be tough for both of us, but I’ll try to be the best torturer I can!”

He said nothing, only slipped his rubber gloves up his forearm and followed her into the room.

D-10

Cup of tea in hand, Levi strides down the dark carpeted aisles of the plane and takes a seat at the far end. The engines fire up and accelerate with a roar, taking off. Out of the windows, purple blends with the whiteness of the clouds as the aircraft slices through the sky.

Instead of the quietness he typically enjoys on his travels, Hange’s giggles disturb his mood. What such a hilarious thing could Moblit have said to make her this cheerful? He takes a sip of tea and smashes the cup on the little table in front of him.

Ever since they boarded the plane, those two have been joined by the hip—which is ideal, as they left Levi alone in his own corner, just as he likes it. But their noise prevents him from immersing in the music coming out from his headphones, something that’s vexing him. He closes his eyes to further concentrate on everything but the people occupying this plane along with him.

A thud, and his eyes fly open. Hange is right at his nose. She quickly leans back while Levi does the same, the seat creaking as she readjusts, her black clothes a mirror of his. A few different emotions seem to pass over her face. Finally, it settles on a mix of wariness and curiosity as she peers at him over her glasses. He reaches out to the armrest’s console to lower his headphones’ volume. He doesn’t want to be forced to ask what did she say for not hearing.

“So, Ackerman, isn’t it? I’ve heard so much about you,” she says, and the sudden depth of her voice shoots goosebumps to his arms.

Why did he assume that teaming with her was a clever idea, again? And what the hell is wrong with his body? This sensation of being without control makes him want to jump out of the plane just to get away from her. His body has always been his sharpest tool; how can it betray him in the face of such an enemy?!

“Hange Zoe, isn’t it?” He tilts his head to a side, building his expression to be unreadable. “I think you lost some of your shit hours ago.”

Hange throws out a laugh. Apparently, one doesn’t need to be funny for that.

“No apologies from you, then?” She asks. He notices a small paper between her fingers again. She rolls it and unrolls it rhythmically. “I’d ask you to save my real name for yourself, but as the one who shouldn’t know it is you, I doubt anyone else hearing it matters.”

She isn’t wrong; Eldia is her greatest danger.

“You could change it.”

“And live hiding? What a life that’d be.” She shakes her head, bangs swaying with the movement. Her hair appears way less stiff than at first glance. “You know my real name, it’s only fair to know yours. Let me see… Ackerman suits you, but surely it isn’t it. So what is it? You have the face of a…” She sucks her lips, reflective. She’s crazy if she thinks I’ll give her my name… “Levi,” she concludes, a triumphant glint in her eyes.

Levi’s throat closes. His entire body stops functioning. There’s no way she… do they know my identity?

He schools his features into an expression of nonchalance. Seizes his cup to take a sip, mostly to win time and even his heartbeats. What should he do?

“Levi sucks,” he finally grouses.

A line etches between her brows as she draws back, fidgeting still with the piece of paper. She looks doubtful. Could that mean that they, in fact, don’t know about him?

“Really? It isn’t common, sure, but I like it. Mmm, maybe I should have tried with a more popular name first… you do look like a Levi to me, though.” A smile grows on her mouth. “I’ll call you that.”

His mind swirls. A coincidence? He can’t tell for sure. If they know, there’s nothing to do. But if they don’t, how can she? No, he needs to stop over-thinking her. She’s considered a genius… this could be a mind trick. She’s playing with his mind and body in ways he can’t process. That must be it.

She sighs. “Anyway, do you have any theories? About who’s behind this?”

Levi stares out of the window, to their swift moving across the sky. Whoever did this can travel around the world and owns enough money for it. Knows how to sweep traces, as they did with the explosions, whose origins remain a mystery. Although…

“Why were you heading to the museum?”

Hange, who was bowing over her bag, stops mid-motion. Her sight darts to Moblit—like ensuring he’s deep in his book—and swallows.

“It’s personal.”

Levi’s arms tighten against his body—isn’t that just a way to avoid giving an actual answer? Suspicions smites him to the core.

“We know you bought a ticket only hours prior. Why? Isn’t it odd that you were going to that exact location, at the exact same hour of the attack?” Levi lifts an eyebrow.

Hange stays unnaturally still. “I had an appointment,” she reveals barely opening her mouth, and crosses her legs, “but I couldn’t trace the caller id. I really tried, more after the… attack. It was impossible, and I…” She purses her lips.

He blows out his cheeks in incredulity. “Maybe Marley got tired of your contributions, so they sent you there.” Coming from that place, it wouldn’t surprise him.

Her mouth slackens. “You… you think Marley is behind this? For real?”

“Marley likes war and winning no matter what. Used to rule the world, and whoever is behind this wants that exactly. Makes total sense.”

It seems that disbelief fades into anger, as she roars, “We aren’t behind this.”

“As always, marleyans are perfect liars.” A half-smile from him.

“And as always, eldians are idiots.” Her cold eyes tighten. She uncrosses her legs and, in the movement, knocks over his cup of tea. He attempts to stop its fall but the liquid spills out of it, spreading all over the table. She doesn’t even glance at it. “Actually, Eldia could very well be behind this. I know you like power—”

“You know nothing.” First my tea, and now she accuses Eldia?! Anger flushes his hands as he glares at her, conveying his most turbulent emotions through it. “Get the hell away from me and my tea, shitty glasses,” he grunts. Takes some tissues and wipes the liquid off the table.

“Gladly.” She plasters an acid smile over her mouth. Springs to her feet, but stops after a step. She doesn’t turn when she speaks. “I do know something. Whoever called me knew my deepest secrets, secrets I haven’t told almost anyone.”

What secrets could she have that made her fly to another country to meet a stranger, and unprotected?

Levi turns up the volume on his headphones, although not so much as not to hear her. Hange’s secrets don’t matter. Her declaration does, though. It implies that it could be someone who knows her—which only endorses Marley’s implication in this.

“That just confirms Marley’s guiltiness.”

Hange glares at him over her shoulder. Flexes her fingers as her face reddens. “Argh. You… argh.” She storms off.

He lowers the shade on the window, cutting off the purple view. Why does she get that mad? He said nothing but the truth. He doesn’t even need to be an eldian to see it; Marley is highly suspicious.

“Hi!” Moblit lands on the seat Hange just vacated, carrying two mugs. “Were you two already acquainted with each other?”

I tried to kill her yesterday. “No.”

“Are you sure? For a second you two seemed like friends.”

Friends? Being from Marley and Eldia, the answer is obvious, and the question ridiculous.

“Did your brain rot? She’s unbearable. And eldians aren’t friends with marleyans.” Fortunately, now she’s far away and unable to bother him anymore.

“Hey! I just said it looked like that.” Moblit offers him a mug. “Do you want some? It’s black tea.”

Levi hesitates. Moblit might be an enemy, but he seems friendly, not to mention how the steam of the tea is wafting around and covering Levi’s nostrils with its delicious fragrance. His mouth puddles with drool, imagining its flavor. He accepts the mug.

“Zoe can be… eccentric, but she’s a good person. She lost some friends in the last attacks so she’s not in the best of moods.”

“You look close to her.” Levi acts aloof, but he’s focused on the conversation. Maybe Moblit can give him answers, share something useful.

“The closest someone can be with her, which means that not much. We’re friends, but not that close. She’s always busy, kind of a workaholic.” He laughs. “But in a good way! All of those prejudices against marleyans are lies. They really aren’t that bad, and Zoe—”

“Where are we going?” Levi interrupts, changing the topic to safe territory. On second thought, he doesn’t want to hear Moblit’s opinion on marleyans or Hange Zoe. The mission, he can handle.

Moblit doesn’t mind his abruptness. “On the way here, Zoe checked the investigation’s updates on the last attacks, and something caught her attention. In one of them, a survivor claimed seeing the concierge arriving with a briefcase and leaving without it. Also, he wasn’t in his workplace at the time of the explosion, even when it was his shift. It could be nothing but—”

“How long to get there?”

“Less than two hours. We already have people arresting him.”

He nods, and they fall into silence. The steady sound of the engines and the hiss of air conditioning have him dozing off.

“Ackerman. We’re here.” Moblit shakes his arm.

Levi wakes up with surprise. Was he… was he sleeping? How could he sleep, surrounded by enemies as he is?! It’s Erwin’s fault, of course. He hasn’t been able to sleep three full hours for days, and his stiff neck resents it.

“Right. Thanks.” He dips his hand into his bag and pulls out his phone. Shoves it into his pants pocket and arises, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

The way to the police station isn’t long. They enter a waiting area with chairs lined up and a map of the city at the back. After a hallway, they step into a hall circled by offices, where cubicles buzz with bustle.

“Excuse me,” Hange approaches a man, and shows him a card. “We’re here to see Djel Sannes.”

People shift on their seats at their arrival. Levi stays on the periphery, squinting at whoever looks at them—with the last hours’ events, everyone represents a potential danger, more so in a place crowded with armed people. He meets the eyes of a witness giving a statement, and she coils almost immediately.

Fine, he might be overdoing the menacing glare.

Levi lowers his head as they wait for the Sergeant. Phones ring and doors slam around them, keyboards clicking in a frenzy.

“The president of this country died,” Moblit mutters to Levi, “so everything is chaos.”

It surely is. Levi doesn’t think everywhere is this out of control after suffering an attack, not every leader lost enough to throw them all into a panic. But this country is.

Many people bump his shoulder as they pass by, and the second sirens from outside fade, new ones amplify. There are just so many people, and noises, and smells, that he feels overwhelmed, the air getting heavier and heavier. He darts to the most secluded corner on an impulse, which makes Hange look at him weirdly, but she says nothing.

After a few minutes, a tall tanned man with a mechanic leg, and wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with badges hanging from it nears them. The badges jingle as he moves.

“You’re the ones from the WCO? I’m Sergeant Dawk.” He slides open a file cabinet and hands a blue folder to Hange. “That man Sannes won’t talk.”

“Thanks, we’ll take him from now,” Hange says without looking up from the papers on her hands.

The Sergeant leads them to an interrogation room, where a man with hollow cheeks and short black hair sits, crestfallen.

“I didn’t place that bomb, I swear!” The man, Sannes, shrills. He raises his handcuffed hands. “So please, let me go!”

“Is that so?” Hange questions him, sitting on the chair closest to the man. Levi takes a seat on a hard plastic chair in front, while Moblit stands off to the side. “Because,” she reads a name on the folder, “Mrs. Braun said that—”

“I said I didn’t do it, are you deaf?!”

“I advise you to calm down,” Moblit says, his steely gaze directed to Sannes. Levi reclines, listening. “Insulting us won’t help you, on the contrary.”

Sannes juts his chin.

Hange supports her head with a thumb on her temple, her glasses eating all the light in the room, hiding her eyes. “Mrs. Braun said you left a strange briefcase inside, and that you weren’t around when the explosion took place, even when you should have. Where were you, Mr. Sannes?”

“In my home. I was feeling rather ill.”

Aha, Levi thinks. How convenient.

“Mmm, but you never left before without asking for permission first. And you didn’t visit a doctor or—”

“DO I NEED TO SAY DIARRHEA?!”

“Oi, don’t scream.” Levi puts his palms on the metallic table and leans in until he’s millimeters apart from Sannes, whose sweat upsets his nose. “We know you did it; we found the briefcase and detected traces of the bomb there. Why and how you did it, that’s far more interesting.” It’s a big fat lie, of course—what briefcase would survive that? But he planted the doubt, which with a pinch of luck should help to shatter him.

“Wai—” Moblit begins, but Hange breaks in.

“Listen, Djel. You’re about to face a life sentence for killing hundreds.” A sweet smile plays on her face as she follows Levi’s deceit. “We’re just trying to help you to get a minor punishment.”

Levi snorts. “Honestly, it’s better if you don’t say shit. Death sentences are legal here, right?”

Sannes widens his eyes as sweat rolls down his hairline. His gaze flicks from Levi to Hange. He drops his head and rubs his hands together. “I… I didn’t put the bomb, it was just a briefcase. I checked it and it contained ordinary stuff, a jewelry box, wristwatches, pipes, some glasses… I only got paid to leave the briefcase, and I did get sick, I swear! He gave me the briefcase and told me to put it somewhere at the center of the hotel. I didn’t know the president was there. That’s everything I know!”

Levi and Hange trade gazes, and he almost smirks. Eureka.

“He?” Hange asks.

“I don’t know his real name. He was tall, slim, with long hair. He’s called The Ripper.”

Levi grows rigid. Hange’s eyes briefly drift to him, but she doesn’t pry. She continues questioning Sannes, yet nothing useful arises.

“We’re an amazing team!” Moblit celebrates going out of the interrogation room. Both Levi and Hange let out a deep breath.

“Not really,” Levi says. “The man was already pissing himself, so a little squeeze was everything he needed to spill his guts.”

“What?” Moblit scratches his scalp.

“I think he means that Sannes was already afraid, thus easy to break, and there resides our success, right?” Hange looks at him. Levi limits to shrug and walk away, not at all taken aback by her understanding of his words. Such a rare happening.

Even though it’s early, they decide to rest a little, as neither Hange nor he are in conditions to go on for another restless hour —plus they also need to decide what to do next. On the way to the hotel, Hange falls into step beside Levi.

“Do you know him? The Ripper. You reacted to the name.”

He does, and he doesn’t.

“The Ripper is a mercenary and a killer,” Levi says, weighing his words. “I’ve confronted him many times, and he always escapes me. He works for whoever pays him enough.”

He’s a slippery snake, that’s what he is. One of the few people who identify Levi’s face and who has meant a real threat to his life. The trash of this world.

Hange sighs. “That doesn’t reduce our suspects at all. Do you know where he is, how to contact him?”

“I don’t.” Levi pulls his phone out from his pants. “But I can find out.”

Their hotel room has three single beds with matching bedding and pillows, all white. The gray patterned carpet exhibits muted stains under the clear overhead lighting, which to Levi strikes as sickening. Not that Hange seems to mind it; she whisks off her shoes as soon as she walks in and kicks them in different directions.

What a mess she is, he thinks, disapproving of her shoes scattered on the floor. What he hates the most are untidy people.

Barefoot, she goes to the farthest bed and jumps onto it. Belly down, she sinks her face into the mattress. In seconds, her faint snores resonate through the room.

“She was really tired,” Moblit observes. “Won’t you sleep?” He asks when Levi sits on the small chair in a corner.

“I’m not tired.”

There’s no way he can rest with them around. His shoulders ache from the tension with which he keeps himself, but he’ll have to endure it. Moblit presses his lips into a line as if hesitating to express his skepticism, but opts to remain quiet and lies down as well.

Levi looks at them, relaxed and out of conscience on their neighboring beds. Hange’s body is sprawled on the bed, her glasses askew. With her eyes closed, she looks almost... peaceful. Even angelic, although that’s an absurd thing to even think about. Her mouth is ajar. Maybe, just maybe, she talks in her sleep. Although it’s unlikely that she’d recite Marley’s secrets if she does. He’ll wait a little more to make sure they won’t wake up, and then he’ll scrummage through their things. The probability that they hide something valuable is close to null, yet he wouldn’t be himself if he lets the possibility pass.

He waits, and waits, and waits… until his eyes close.

Hange’s hair was down over her shoulders and back, face deep in his neck. He felt—felt with raw clarity—the heaviness of his heart. How, with every sob out of her mouth, it weighted more and more, until it was too unbearable for his chest to carry.

“Do you think they are better, now?” Her watery voice cut the night’s silence.

Levi didn’t, but saying so out loud would merely have made her feel worse. He ended up not replying.

“I miss them.” She receded abruptly—as if only then discovering whom she was clinging to in her pain, realizing their closeness and the darkness surrounding them. Took off her fogged glasses to clean them, taking step after step further away from him. “Why did Moblit do that? He should’ve saved himself instead of me…”

“He did the best he could.” And Levi was glad for that. She wouldn’t have been here without her loyal assistant, and that, Levi couldn’t even picture. “Sometimes, there’s just no way to avoid death.”

She shook her head, her beautiful brown eye welling with tears again. “But I should—”

“Ackerman,” a strident voice, as if intensified by loudspeakers, reverberates through his head, firing pangs to his temples, his neck… He struggles to open his eyes, and when he does, Moblit is looking down at him, biting a smile back. “And you weren’t tired, eh?”

The sky is dark out of the windows, but both Hange and Moblit look wide-awake.

Levi blinks and blinks. What happened? Did he… fall asleep? How the hell did he manage to do that? It’s always a problem with him, his unbeatable insomnia. And even without it, he was unsafe; in moments like these, he can never as far as close his eyes. Maybe he really was too exhausted to mind about his companions.

Hange is looking at him out of the corner of her eye, phone on her ear. He squeezes his throbbing head—he was dreaming of something he can’t quite recall…

Moblit hands him a white foam cup with coffee.

“Thanks.” The liquid heats Levi’s throat and empty stomach. He checks his bag, because even though he slept hugging it, you never know about their tricks. Exhales in relief when he finds it untouched.

"Thanks, Nana," Hange says to the phone. “Yeah. And please keep me informed if you hear from Armin.” She hangs up and sits cross-legged on her bed.

Moblit gives him a protein bar, which Levi also accepts.

“We should have a better breakfast next time,” Hange says as she bites another bar, her laptop in front of her on the bed. “These taste like crap.”

Levi bites his and begrudgingly agrees. He chews the stale bar, and feels… something on his nape. He looks up to find Hange’s solid gaze directly on him. Her features are blank, yet the only word to describe her eyes is… intense.

He slides his gaze through the room, hoping she’ll stop looking at him, but her stare remains steady. What is she doing? Is she trying to make him feel uncomfortable? To read Eldia’s secrets from his expressions? That must be it, but not even a genius like her could figure someone out by mere observation… right?

“It is bad, but it was the only edible-looking thing in the lobby machine,” Moblit defends himself when he finishes his bar. Levi would never admit how of a relief these words were, having torn Hange’s attention from him.

“Well. If we shit cardboard, we’ll know where it comes from,” Hange says, and Levi can’t help it. His armor cracks for a millisecond and he lets out a laugh—a noisy, open one, that reverberates through the room until he comprehends what he’s doing.

Hange shoots him an astonished look. He hastens to clamp his mouth shut, teeth crashing loudly by the speed he does it. Moblit chuckles.

Levi looks around, trying to avert their scrutiny from the heat on his face. “What are you doing? What time is it?”

Moblit strolls to the bathroom. “Almost dawn. And Hange got something. Ask her.”

He won’t ask her, so he takes out his phone and ignores her until he feels her gaze on him again. Hange’s eyes meet him, bearing weariness and annoyance. He blinks, and a vision of her crying flashes before his eyes. Another blink and it’s gone.

What the fuck was that? He rubs his eyes to fully wake up.

She returns her gaze to her laptop and speaks rigidly, as if talking with him was the last thing she wanted to do. “The threat sent to the WCO? I finally traced its source.” She turns the screen to Levi. “Here.” She points to the image of a worn red building grounded by dirt, cracks covering its walls. “It’s apparently abandoned.”

“Apparently?” Even when he’d prefer to keep his distance from her messy self, he sits on the head of Moblit’s bed to watch the screen better. In the picture, the place is deserted and in precarious conditions. Everything suggests real abandonment to him.

“I already sent a team, and… inside, it’s clean,” she exposes as if it was the biggest revelation ever.

He frowns. What does that even me—?

Oh.

Thrill trips over him at the realization. “A façade.”

“Yes! Inside are only chairs. And not a single fingerprint.”

As Levi well knows, even the most careful human leaves marks behind them. Which means that someone cleaned that place. “Who owns it?”

Hange claps, pleased with his ask, weariness replaced by enthusiasm. “A dead man.”

“Family alive?”

“None in the registers.” She stretches out, bends her knees, and places the computer on her lap. Immerses in typing, the screen shining figures and colors on her glasses.

“Suspicious.” He strokes his jaw. “It’s a dead-end, though.”

When did she have the time to discover all of this? She does live up to her reputation if what he’s seen so far is an indication.

Hange closes the laptop. “Not quite a dead end. I say, let’s go and investigate it for ourselves, see if the exploration team missed anything. We don’t have much more to work with, anyway.”

Moblit exits the bathroom, wiping his face with a towel. “All ready. Let’s go.”

***

D-9

The pictures didn’t lie. The building is declining and represents everything about this sort of place. Even the nearby houses resemble it, with graffiti sprayed all over their walls. On the way here, he learned that this side of the city is illegally inhabited by people who have no other choice. In previous years, the cost of living skyrocketed and most had to emigrate, unable to afford it. What started as an attempt to get more money ended up being a waste. Not that the owners of this land care.

Levi is no stranger to such stories. Eldia has also suffered precarious days—always due to Marley, of course. He watches Hange, carefully studying every nuance in her expressions; that way, he might be able to figure her out and steal a glimpse of Marley’s plans. She’s standing next to him, eyes on the building. Her hair blows in the arctic wind, her lips pressed together in caution. He wonders when will she morph into her devilish persona and reveal her true colors.

Oblivious of his thoughts, she turns to him, holding his gaze for a second before both dash their gazes in opposite directions.

“Watch out,” Moblit advises them, returning from surveying the zone. “This country has a dead king. Security and control aren’t their main characteristics right now.”

Hange nods and walks past Levi, brushing his arm in her hurry. And there’s… nothing. If something good has come out from this working together thing, is that his body doesn’t seem to be out of control anymore. In fact, it feels as always, if only a little tired, pain tightening harder its grip on the back of his neck. Being around her has desensitized him to her presence, proving that this team was a good idea after all.

Following Hange and Moblit, Levi rushes towards the three-story building, whose condition seems precarious. If he didn’t need to, he wouldn’t venture into it out of sheer precaution, as it appears to be one strong wind away from collapsing. He evades the cracked pavement and the broken bottles on the ground. The rotting garbage around emanates a noisome odor, causing Levi to crinkle his nose and hit it with a scornful glare.

If he didn’t know better, he’d say this was a regular decrepit building. However, appearances are deceptive—he gives Hange a sideway glance, noting how harmless and benign she appears. He should know.

Hange looks up at the heavy clouds, which bury any vestige of the sun. “Everything is clear?”

Moblit nods, brushing his sweat-shiny forehead. The stifling air coats them as they go in. Hange was right: it’s spotless, with no signal of human touch at a cursory examination. They step into a grand hall with a concrete floor, and no tiles or cracks. The walls are gray and the ceiling white with nothing hanging down, not even a space for wiring of any kind. And that’s it; there is nothing else, not even dust.

“I’ll go up. We keep communication.” Moblit touches his left ear, where he wears the earphone connecting them, and jogs up the stairs.

Hange disappears into one of the rooms at the left, while Levi sneaks to the right. He scans his surroundings, but only finds more of the same. Blank walls, empty floors, clean surfaces. Nothing stands out.

Hange’s static voice sounds in his ear. “Something’s weird.”

“We already established that this cleanliness is abnormal,” Levi says. Still, he finds it kind of admiring. He trails his fingers over the cool and glossy wall. Ah, if only everything else could be this clean…

“No. As always, eldians thinking they know everything. I meant something else,” she remarks, tremulous. “A window is open. It was closed in the photos the team sent me.”

Levi keeps going through the rooms. “A member of the exploration team left it open?” He finds another window—sealed. Outside, trees sway with the wind while murky clouds cover the firmament, a chilly breeze seeping in from it.

“Fingerprints are explicit on the window frame,” she adds.

Levi jerks up. “Don’t they wear gloves?”

“Guys,” Moblit’s voice buzzes in Levi’s ears. “As far as I know, the exploration team was wearing the proper equipment to study this place without leaving marks. I… I think someone else, besides them, was here. There are footprints all over the third floor.”

Hange’s exhalation fills the line with static. “Mmm, a homeless person or someone could’ve come…”

“But isn’t this place under observati—” Adrenaline spikes in Levi’s body.

Everything becomes silent.

Something is wrong.

His instinct is rarely incorrect, yet what, exactly, could be wrong?

“Maybe we should leave,” Levi mutters. He listens. Outside, birds caw. Their wings flutter. The wind slides papers across the floor. He struggles to sharpen his attention. Deep down, he detects something.

Yes. There it is. A constant beeping. A somewhat familiar one. He dashes around the building until storming into the last room, where there’s something rectangular on the floor. A wooden box in the center of the room, and nothing else.

He approaches it. Leans over. Opens it. The beeping becomes louder. In front of him, red numbers show fifteen seconds, and then fourteen, thirteen…

“Get out of here,” he lets out of breath, body frozen and eyes mesmerized by the descending numbers.

“What?” Hange asks.

“Run!” he gulps. His hammering heart pushes him up. He sprints out without breathing. “Run, now! GET OUT OF HERE!”

“What, why?!” Moblit screams.

He gets into the first hall the second Hange turns around a corner. He grabs her arm and pulls her towards the main door as fast as he can. They take three steps out of the building, and a deafening wave sends them flying.

A ringing stuns Levi’s ears. Smoke chokes him, along with a sulfur stench he wishes never to smell again. He puts his hands on the ground full of tiny hard things that pierce into his palms and propels himself up. Clings to the wall to stand still, legs trembling. He’s at the bottom of an old store opposite the building, between wood chips and glass shards.

Far away from him, the upper floors of the building are collapsed, and its remnants engulfed in fire.

“L—Levi?” A wheezy voice calls him. He advances towards it. Hange is on a corner, trying to get to her feet. Blood spills from her ears and she’s sooted, but otherwise whole. “Where is Moblit?”

Levi’s stomach hardens. He doesn’t know what to say, so he points his eyes to the dirty ground. Moblit was upstairs, and everything happened so fast… Hange seems to come to the same conclusion. She rises and hurries outside, tears running down her sooted cheeks like an eraser on black paper.

“No, he can’t be…” She nears the burning building as much as the flames allow her. Her hand reaches out at her side as if looking for something invisible. “MOBLIT! COME HERE, NOW!”

Total silence, but for the cracking of the fire. Police sirens hum in the distance, louder every passing second.

Levi feels like he just came out of water after a long time, heavy and dizzy. He shuts his eyes closed for a moment, but Moblit’s smiling face offering him tea is carved behind his lids. It makes his protein bar threaten to come back up.

“We have to go,” he gulps. If arrested, even for interrogation, they’d waste precious hours. Or they could be easily spotted by their enemies, whoever they are. First, safety. Then, they can mull this over.

“This wasn’t one of the bombs from the attacks,” Hange mumbles. “This was normal, because the ones from the other attacks didn’t elicit fire, they caused more of an expansive wave of silent destruction, evaporating its closest ratio… How did you know we had to get out?” She turns to him, features made of stone. Wipes her tears with anger, making a bigger mess of her face.

“I heard a beep.”

One lens of her glasses is broken—he didn’t notice that before. Wood chips are trapped in her hair, and her mouth is curled in incredulity. Of course she wouldn’t believe him. Why would she?

“I didn’t hear anything!” She kicks a plastic bottle on the ground, sending it bouncing to the fire.

“I—sometimes, I react faster than the average person.” That’s why he’s ideal for this job and this mission. Why his duty is to save and protect people. A sting of regret jabs his heart—people like the man who probably just blasted to pieces. He should have saved him. He knew something was wrong. He should have told them to get out sooner, or—

“How did they know we were here?” She runs her hands through her hair, gaze fixated on the ebbing blazes.

Levi rubs his eyes in impatience. Taps a foot on the floor, faster and faster. The sirens are getting louder. “There could have been people looking after this place, waiting for someone like us to come. Now, let’s g—”

“No, no. We searched…” She trails off, eyes unfocused.

“We don’t have time for this.” Authorities, no matter how chaotic, won’t ignore a fucking bomb exploding in their city!

“Did you inform anyone where we were going after arriving from the plane? I saw you on the phone!”

“Tsk.” This is why I work alone, he thinks. As per usual, he informed Erwin of his whereabouts. His line, though, is quite secure.

“It’s true, isn’t it? You told someone we were coming here!” She constricts her fists, so much that her knuckles turn white, the skin of her arms reddening.

He steps back, pulse speeding. “That person wouldn’t do this. And this was well-prepared in advance!”

“You—” Police cars round the street corner. Hange clenches her jaw and runs away from the police, from the burning rubble, from him.

For all they know, Moblit somehow could have survived and be alright. But they’ll have to wait to know.

Levi gives a final look at the late building before rushing after her.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi x hange #levi x hanji #levi ackerman #hange zoe #aot #aot fanfiction #snk #enemies to lovers #reincarnation au #OTNOD #mine #myfics

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wardenannie · 3 years

Note

heyy! saw you were taking prompts so i thought i'd send you onee.

could you write a spicy levihan oneshot based on levi and hanji reuniting after a long time being apart? it can be canonverse or a modern au, whatever youd'd like!

love love love your writinggg <333

Love this prompt. I'm writing this as a modern AU where Levi and Hange met in the military and fell in love. Later on Levi is injured and is honorably discharged but Hange remains active duty. 💚

Boomers having seggs under the cut ;)

Eight months. He hasn't seen his wife in eight, long months.

He drives to the airport in a car modified to accommodate his disability. His right leg has never worked the same since the bullet. He rolls through the terminal in his wheelchair. People look down on him, the little man in the little chair, but he doesn't care.

Levi is going to see Hange. His Hange. They fell in love on the field of war, and as far as he knows there is no stronger bond. He misses her touch, her kiss, the low ramble of her voice.

He misses his Hange.

The circumstances of her return are less than ideal. An IED has left her missing an eye and badly burned. They had to airlift her to Germany where she recovered without him. She hadn't wanted him there. Hadn't wanted him to see her so broken.

It still broke his heart.

Now he waits by the baggage claim, watching the arrivals. Frankfurt 8:20 am, on schedule.

Levi checks his watch; its 7. He has some time to kill. But all he can do is wait, staring at the arrivals. His good leg jiggles with anxiety. His good eye never wavers from that screen.

The hour passes like molasses, the final twenty minutes like cement, but finally a familiar head of russet hair rounds the corner. She's on crutches still, and she wears a patch over one eye. Most of her is covered by her military greens, but he can see the burn scars on her left hand and cheek.

She has never looked more beautiful to him.

He wheels over to her as fast as he can, breathless, grinning.

Hange meets him, leaning over to pull him into a tight hug. Her warmth is rejuvenating, he has not felt so whole in a long time.

The first thing she says to him, breathless in his ear, is a joke; "Between the two of us we've got one working set of eyes, smalls."

"I'll watch your left if you watch my right," Levi replies, then he pulls back from the hug to kiss her deeply, not caring who sees.

A few people, seeing Hange's uniform and Levi's chair, begin to clap for them.

Levi just wants them to shut the fuck up.

They make it back to their apartment in record time, both of them grinning like idiots as they pass over the threshold.

Hange drops her single duffel bag in the entry way and inhales deeply. Then she sighs, eyes becoming sad, "Assimilation back into civilian life is going to be hard, isn't it? Especially now that I look like the crypt keeper."

"I'll be here to help you," Levi stands up, folding his chair. He limps over to her, leans on her, kisses scarred jaw. "You're beautiful."

Hange shakes her head and helps him into the living room. They sit on the couch, hands clutching at one another, loath to lose such a precious thing as touch after so many months.

"You can't see the worst of it, it's under the uniform," she explains. "I honestly think it'll make you sick."

"Hange," Levi leans forward to kiss her, bit she avoided him.

"I lost my left nipple, you know? Burned clean off. My tits are lopsided now," she cups them, dropping his hand. He can't tell anything through the uniform. "God Levi I feel like such a monster."

"No," Levi snaps, drawing her into his arms. "I almost lost you, four-eyes. They told me you had a fifty-fifty shot. I thought I was going going lose you. Now that I finally have you back I won't listen to this shit. You're my wife. I love you so much it fucking hurts, burns or no."

Hange sniffs, peeking out between her fingers.

Levi leans forward to kiss her forhead, "I missed you so much. Everyday I wasn't with you killed me a little bit, Hange. Knowing I wasn't there to protect you."

Hange inclines her head to kiss his lips. Chastely at first, but Levi deepens it, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her closer to him by her waist.

His tongue traces along her lower lip and she grants him entrance. She tastes like the mints she always sucks on when she flies. Hange moans softly into his mouth, one hand cupping his scarred cheek.

They part by a few inches, and Levi asks softly, "Are you ready for sex? Does it still hurt?"

"Sometimes I can still feel the fire in my skin," Hange shivers, then she kisses his jaw. "I want you to take it away."

"Hange..."

She takes his hands. Both of them are shaking slightly, "Make love to me, Levi. I want to feel whole again."

In the past he would have lifted her and carried her to their bedroom. But now his leg will not allow for that, so he hoists her up with an arm around her waist, lips working at very neck and jaw as he guides her to their marriage bed.

It's the same as when she left. Black duvet, white sheets, all neatly laid out and folded by her husband.

He lays her down on the duvet and crawls over top of her, beginning to work at the buttons of her uniform. Her hands caress down his chest to the hem of his shirt, which she tugs at lightly.

Levi finishes the last button, then sits up to remove his crew neck before gently pushing Hange's top off of her shoulders.

"You've been staying in shape," she marvels softly, caressing her hands over the scarred marble of his skin.

He shrugs, eyeing her breast bindings hungrily, "Physical therapy got me on an exercise kick."

"I've gone a little soft," Hange sighs, "So many weeks in hospital, you know?"

Levi begins to undo her breast bindings, deft fingers pulling them away strip by strip. When she is bared to him he marvels at the mottled pattern of her skin; olive and red, silver and purple. Like she said, she is missing a nipple, but he hardly notices for the joy of being with his wife again.

"You're beautiful," he breaths softly, and he leans over to lavish her branded skin with sensual kisses.

Hange moans softly, fingers curling into his hair as his tongue traces along sensitive scar tissue.

"Levi," she moans. Eyes fluttering shut.

He begins to descend, following the line of scarring that divides her body in two. His tongue traces along her navel, and when he reaches her waistband, he looks up to her with hooded grey eyes, begging permission.

Biting her lip, Hange nods frantically, "I want your mouth on me, it's been so long."

Levi hums in agreement, peeling her trousers and simple cotton panties down her thighs in a single movement. It has been far too long.

Her cunt glistens wetly in the low light of the bedroom. Here she is the same, here the fire has not touched her, so when Levi lowers his tongue to lick a hot stripe up her folds, he knows just how to make her twitch.

His lips seal over her clit, feeling it harden and swell under his assault. His fingers find her entrance and press inside, curling backwards in a familiar pattern, pads brushing up against her g-spot.

"Oh shit, Levi," she throws a burned arm over her eyes, cunt already beginning to twitch and tighten around his fingers.

"Come," he commands softly, low voice vibrating against her clit. "Come for me, Hange."

She does, thighs shivering as she falls apart on his fingers. She makes a high, keening sound that makes Levi smile as he pulls his wet mouth away from her pussy. He presses a kiss over her mound then stands, undoing his belt and shucking his pants.

His cock bounces free, heavy, swollen and beaded with precum at the tip. Now they are both naked save for the wedding bands they wear on chains around their necks.

Hange smiles at him, scooting up the bed and beckoning with a pink, scarred finger. All of her bashfulness over her wounds has melted away, "It's been awhile, Captain. I needed the warm up."

He crawls over top over her, kissing her breasts before kissing her lips tenderly. Missionary is his favorite position, so he can look into her eyes while they make love.

He reaches between their bodies, lining up the head of his cock with her entrance.

"Ready?" He whispers against her parted lips, holding her stare. Their is fire in both of their eyes, a love like none other. Slate holds to wine as she nods and he slides into her, smooth and easy.

Entering Hange is like coming home. Levi shuts his eyes and let's the sensation surround him, swallowing him up. He tucks his face into the crook of her shoulder, moaning softly as he begins to thrust, slow and steady.

"Levi," she whispers his name. "Levi, Levi, Levi."

Her fingers caress down the switching muscles of his sides and she clutches at the globes of his ass, urging him to go harder, faster.

The feel of her cunt is sublime, tight and wet and hot around his dick. She kisses his temple as he makes love to her, then her hands rake up from his ass to cup the back of his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss.

Levi snaps his hips as hers roll to meet his. His fingers trace delicately over her scars as his tongue curves along the back of her teeth.

When they part, panting and flushed, he exhales against her lips, "I missed you so much."

Hange nods, fingers curling into her shoulders as her cunt begins to tighten around him. There are tears in her eyes, tears of deep seated emotion still unspoken. Tears of a wounded soldier. Tears of lovers reunited at last.

Levi's hips begin to stutter, cock swelling, balls tightening to his body.

"Come in me," Hange implores, holding his gaze. Her eyes plead, "inside, please."

Then her body goes tense under him, and she makes soft panting sounds as her orgasm takes her in waves.

Levi's lips part, eyes hooding as his thighs and groin go alight and he finishes inside of his lover.

He gives a few, final thrusts, working himself deep before he collapses on top of her. They both pant, sharing gentle kisses in the sweetness of the afterglow.

Levi holds Hange to his chest, fingers tracing along her scars.

"You're so beautiful, Hange," he breaths, emotions rising in his chest. "You have no idea."

Hange kisses the corner of his mouth, eyes hooded and lazy. Mixed fluids drip between her thighs, "So are you, Levi."

Her fingers catch on his chain, following it down to his ring. It mirrors her own, a simple golden band.

"I love you," she says. "And I'm never leaving you like that ever again."

Levi nods, "Likewise, and I love you, too."

Reunited at last, they sleep.

#levihan #my writing

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rikiflrts · 3 years

Text

— ꒰‧ 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ༉‧₊˚✧

after what seemed like forever, i finally made my own prompt list! if you wish to request for the prompts that you’d like to use with a certain member, then feel free to choose any of the numbers displayed and tell me about them in the ask box (^^).

also: please be specific with the genre that you'd like to imply with your chosen prompts, thank you~ ♡

1.) "i just wanted to give you a hug"

2.) "dumbass we're lost now thanks to you!" " i already got lost in your eyes from the moment i met you but you don't see me complaining."

3.) "please don't talk to me right now, im not in the mood"

4.) "how are you so beautiful?"

5.) "my hoodie looks great on you"

6.) "how could you..."

7.) "i trusted you"

8.) "i didn't tell you to trust me."

9.) "you're leaving? just like that?"

10.) "no stop you're making me blush"

11.) "and if i am?"

12.) "just shut up and let me play with your hair"

13.) "so this is what falling in love feels like"

14.) "how are you even real..?"

15.) "are you being for real right now?"

16.) "...did you just sniff me?"

17.) "if you're that mad then why don't you just take it out on me?"

18.) "i don't mind"

19.) "you dumbass, i said i like you!"

20.) "i used to have this huge crush on you (laughs)" "used to?" "well, yeah.. i dont really like you anymore"

21.) "can i hold your hand?"

22.) "are you nervous?"

23.) "less talking, more working!"

24.) "im in love with an idiot"

25.) "but you promised me that we'd get married!!" "for the love of god, ____ we were 5 when that promise was made!"

26.) "but i still love/like you.."

27.) "this reminded me of you"

28.) "his/her/their smile is really pretty.."

29.) "just confess already!!"

30.) "you're an idiot." "yeah. your idiot."

31.) "are you even paying attention?"

32.) "does it look like i care?"

33.) "i don't really care"

34.) "it's been a while since i last smiled like this"

35.) "oh crap im starting to feel the butterflies again"

36.) "I'm scared, okay?! i can't do it"

37.) "what are you so scared of?"

38.) "im scared of falling.." "dont be, i'll catch you."

39.) "promise..?" "promise."

40.) "i guess promises really were meant to be broken."

41.) "you made a fool out of me!"

42.) "im sorry, its not you.. its me."

43.) "what about our promises??" "what about them?"

44.) "please dont go"

45.) "is/are they/he/she all you're ever going to look at?im already right in front of your attention is still focused on them/him/her."

46.) "that's it..?"

47.) "cuddle with me"

48.) "no."

49.) "his/her/their eyes were like pools; so deep. I fear that if I fall, I might never come out and reach for air."

50.) "i love spending time with you"

51.) "let's just be friends"

52.) "im sorry, im afraid of commitment"

53.) "im afraid of it too. why don't you just take this risk and overcome your fears with me?"

54.) "if its you, then i dont mind."

55.) "i love your smell"

56.) "what's that supposed to mean?"

57.) "first love really never does die huh"

58.) "hey, you look really familiar" "oh, really?" "yeah. you look like my soulmate."

59.) "if you like me so much then just marry me already"

60.) "wait i can do that?!" "your gullibility really amazes me sometimes."

61.) "are you dumb? be honest"

62.) "im not in the mood"

63.) "are you okay?"

64.) "you look horrible" "oh wow gee thanks for pointing that out sherlock"

65.) "what's in it for me?"

66.) "do you..like me?"

67.) "do you like him/her/them?"

68.) "but i wrote you letters.."

69.) "they mean nothing to me."

70.) "wow! i haven't seen you in ages, how have you been?" "we literally just saw each other 5 hours ago."

71.) "wipe that smirk off your face, its annoying"

72.) "aww, why? are you perhaps threatened that you'll end up falling for me?"

73.) "i think im going to puke"

74.) "are you blushing?"

75.) "aren't you tired of comstantly running in my mind?"

76.) "i can't get him/her/them out of my head"

77.) "your laugh sounds really pretty"

78.) "i love how your eyes sparkle whenever you're invested in something"

79.) "im falling"

80.) "oh no im catching feelings"

81.) "do you ever stop talking?"

82.) "let me get that for you"

83.) "its okay, i can pay for myself" "no. i wont let you" "but i have my own mone-" "shut up and let me spoil you!"

84.) "i refuse to stay in the same room with the likes of him/her/them!"

86.) "it was pretty obvious.."

87.) "come here."

88.) "stop doing that to yourself!"

89.) "you deserve better."

90.) "just leave. i dont want to see your face anymore."

91.) "i hate you." "the feeling's mutual."

92.) "didn't i tell you to leave me alone?!"

93.) "was it so wrong to love you..?"

94.) "if you really love me then just stay away from my sight."

95.) "you feel like home"

96.) "i love hugging you, it makes me feel safe"

97.) "i could kiss you right now!" "you're very welcome to do it."

98.) "i can't keep playing pretend"

99.) "let's put an end to this.."

100.) "i think im actually catching feelings"

101.) "this is getting dangerous.."

102.) "give me another chance"

103.) "give me one reason why i shouldnt leave."

104.) "im going to do it! im finally going to confess to him/her/them!"

105.) "you've got to be kidding me.."

106.) "i knew what i signed up for. im not surprised."

107.) "he/she/they has/have stars in his/her/their eyes and im captivated"

108.) "i love you" "nice try, but im not falling for that"

109.) "is it that hard to fall in love with me?!"

110.) "well if you put it that way, then yes."

111.) "you look happy"

112.) "you look happier without me."

113.) "can you guys please change the dare"

114.) "who gave you the right to toy around with my emotions like that?!"

115.) "i got played.."

116.) "stay out of my sight."

117.) "you're an eyesore" "you're an eye candy"

118.) "why are you still here?"

119.) "why..?"

120.) "stop making fun of me!" "make me."

121.) "was i just some kind of sick joke to you?"

122.) " i really like you "

123.) "i don't know how to express my feelings that well but i just want you to know that i'd take a bullet for you"

124.) "i'd do anything just to see you smile like that again"

125.) "what are you staring at?"

126.) "i think i have a crush on you" "you think? you're not even sure?"

127.) "take my hand"

128.) "let's get out of here."

129.) "you should wear my clothes more often"

130.) "i can teach you how"

131.) "I'm here for you"

132.) "you can use me to forget about him/her/them"

133.) "even if the world turns againt us, as long as we have each other, then we'll be alright."

134.) "you're all that i need"

135.) "you're all that i ever wanted"

136.) "you're all that i have"

137.) "please don't leave me"

138.) "I'm sorry."

139.) "look at me."

140.) "look at me and tell me that you don't love me anymore."

141.) "you're an idiot."

142.) "i don't love you anymore."

143.) "did you just drink from my cup?" "and if i did?"

144.) "im going to kill you!" "you don't scare me"

145.) "stay with me a little longer"

146.) "i knew it.."

147.) "i should've known.."

148.) "are you jealous?"

149.) "i made you a playlist"

150.) "when will you ever look my way..?"

151.) "im fine with looking at him/her/them from afar"

152.) "he's/she's/they're out of my league"

151.) "im scared of getting rejected"

152.) "back to square one"

153.) "I'm tired"

154.) "what do you like about me?"

154.) "i'd rather starve than spend time with him/her/them."

155.) "if i'm an idiot, then you're a coward"

156.) "i dreamt about you last night"

157.) "it was a nightmare"

158.) "it's the little things that he/she/they do/does that drive me insane"

159.) "i like you more than i should"

160.) "be mine"

161.) "it was too good to be true.."

162.) "i had a crush on him/her/them"

163.) "i never really thought that i'd end up falling for you"

164.) "you're adorable"

165.) "you mean the world to me"

166.) "you meant the world to me"

167.) "what happened in the past stays in the past"

168.) "careful, you might end up falling for me"

169.) "very funny, mister lover boy"

170.) "lets go out on a date"

171.) "i'm so lucky to have you"

172.) "where are you going?"

173.) "sometimes it really just gotta be like that"

174.) "hello good afternoon, what's your order?" "hell- oh wow.. you please" "im sorry, could you say that again?" "wait no! i meant- uh..oh dear.."

175.) "he's too good for me"

176.) "stop giving me mixed signals"

177.) "i guess it really just wasn't meant to be"

178.) "im not interested in you"

179.) "i cant get him/her/them out of my head"

180.) "where is/are he/she/they?"

181.) "you took my pillow so im going to use you as a pillow"

182.) "why are you avoiding me?"

183.) "did i do something wrong?"

184.) "please talk to me"

185.) "im not even his/her/their ideal type"

186.) "it wouldn't hurt to try"

187.) "you smell like me"

188.) "i like my scent on you"

189.) "that sounds weird if you put it that way"

190.) "can i call you tonight?"

191.) "you should smile more often"

192.) "i hate it when people tell me what to do"

193.) "lets wear matching outfits!"

194.) "im arresting you." "why? i didnt do anything wrong" "yes you did, you stole my heart and i want justice!"

195.) "i guess i got too caught up with my fatasies to notice that he/she/they never really liked me back in the first place.."

196.) "you're the answer to all my prayers"

198.) "you should go home."

199.) "let me come with you"

200.) "run away with me"

last updated: 12/30/20

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#random scenarios #otp prompts #prompts #promptlist #fanfic prompts #enhypen #scenarios #enhypen scenarios #fluff prompts #fluff prompt list #angst prompts #angst prompt list #writing prompts #writing prompts list

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thesvenqueen · 3 years

Text

The Mummy

Rating: M (to be safe; gore, language) Main Pairing: Kristanna

Summary: Hamunaptra. A place filled with history, legends and mystery. A place Anna Arendelle had only dreamed of finding since she was a little girl. When it seems faith supplies her with the opportunity to find this hidden city, she jumps head first at the chance to find it. But a revengeful mummy, an apocalyptic curse, a deadly adventure (and possibly love) where not exactly on her list of things to discover. Previous Chapters: [ P 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ]

Chapter 9

“You know,” Anna slurred as the bottle of whiskey felt oddly heavy in her hand, which resulted in the bottle slamming down into the sand. “This is not at all what I was expecting.”

Kristoff chuckled beside her, the sound making her heart flutter.

Or was it the booz?

“What were you expecting?”

Anna huffed a laugh, throwing her arm out, “Not this.”

“Didn’t think digs meant fighting off random strangers with swords and jumping off burning boats?”

“Absolutely not.”

Kristoff laughed once more, the sound echoing off the broken stone and sand around them. Anna looked to him, watching as he reached for the whiskey. For a brief moment, their hands touched and even though he had just held her not even an hour before, the small touch made her blush.

She felt entirely too hot, but then again, that could very much be the alcohol.

Somehow in the firelight, Kristoff looked even more handsome. It caught his jaw and seemed to make his brown eyes just glow.

Brown eyes that were staring at her and oh shit, he had said something.

“What?”

Kristoff smirked at her, “I said, you’re holding up better than your brother.”

Anna blinked, then whipped around to see Sven fast asleep on the other side of the fire.

It had been his idea to bring out the whiskey, something to relax them all after the events of earlier that evening. At first, Anna had been a bit unsure about the idea. She didn’t hate drinking, but it never seemed to go well for her when she did. Especially with her brother around, who always managed to cause some kind of mischief that would seemingly always end in a massive headache for Anna that wasn’t just from the alcohol.

As Sven & Kristoff shared a round, a log from the fire fell with a loud thump. The noise had made Anna jump, looking around to see who may be upon them. When she had looked back, she saw Sven smiling at her gently and holding the bottle out to her. Reluctantly, she sighed as she had taken the bottle from her brother, the whiskey burning as it went down.

She’d nearly regretted it, making a face that Kristoff had found highly amusing as she fought off the urge to spit it all right back out.

Now though, now she felt more at ease. The tension that had rested in her shoulders, in her chest was unnoticeable. She felt light, free almost.

“Well, unlike my brother,” Anna said, letting her head lull to the side as she continued to stare at a sleeping Sven, “I know when to stop.”

Anna heard the sound of the whiskey swishing in the bottle and instinctively held her hand out to Kristoff, not noticing the small snort as he put the bottle in her hand.

Keeping her eyes on her brother, she took another swig of the whiskey. It didn’t burn as it went down. Instead it was a comforting warmth, one that seemed to go all the way to her toes. It was a nice feeling, one that made Anna hum in enjoyment.

She wasn’t drunk by any means, more tipsy than anything and that was exactly where she wanted to be. Right on the fence of too little and too much. Anywhere over and it would mean trouble for her, and potentially Kristoff too if she wasn’t careful.

Last thing she needed was to embarrass herself even more in front of him.

“I’m still confused though.”

Anna furrowed her brow as she looked over to Kristoff. “What d’you mean?”

“Well, I mean...I get why he’s here.” Kristoff said, nodding towards Sven, “but…”

Kristoff was rubbing the back of her neck, stumbling over his words, but it clicked in Anna’s fuzzy mind what he was getting at.

Anna smiled, “You’re wondering why I, of all people, would be out here?”

“Well...I mean, uh...”

“It’s fine. I mean, makes sense I suppose. I’m not the most ideal person to want to jump aboard an expedition like this.”

“It’s not that,” Kristoff said, “More just, curious what made you want to come out here.”

“It’s in my blood.” Anna said, “My parents, they hated the normal everyday life in England growing up. So, they both decided to become archeologists, my father studying in England & my mother in Egypt.”

“That’s where it really started, our family's love for Egypt.” Anna said with a smile, looking around at the ruins around her, “My mother fell in love with it the moment she set foot in the country. When she met my father later on, at a dig site no less, he would fall in love with it too. He always would say ‘Egypt brought me my greatest treasure’.”

“Your father sounds a bit…”

“Cheesy?” Anna giggled, “A bit yeah, but he was amazing. They both were. They used to tell us stories of all of these grand adventures they would go on, all the things they had found; lost cities, burial grounds, ancient tombs and hidden temples. When we were old enough, we started going with them. On small ones, never the bigger ones. We both fell in love with it.” Anna looked at her snoring brother, “Sven more so for the jewels and riches.”

“That makes sense.”

There was a pause, and Anna could feel Kristoff thinking beside her. “But….”

But, I’m still wondering what brought you out here?”

Anna looked at him, confused, “Is it that odd that a woman would be so interested in adventure and old ruins?”

Kristoff’s eyes widened, taken aback, “No--I--no, that’s not what--”

“Listen,” Anna said, glaring at him, “I may not be much of an explorer or an adventurer as you or-or as greedy as my brother but I am allowed to be out here just as much as you both.”

“That wasn’t what I meant I…” Anna watched as Kristoff fought to find the words, his hand running through his hair as he groaned. He looked everywhere but her. “I just...wanted to know why, I wasn’t saying you didn’t deserve to be out here. I...You deserve to be out here, more than anyone. Especially your brother.”

That made Anna snort, “Don’t say that too loud, he is a fighter when he’s drunk.”

The tension left Kristoff’s body as he looked at her, a smile back on his face. “It’s true though.”

Anna turned away, trying to hide the blush rushing to her cheeks. She tapped her nails on the bottle, biting her lip as she looked into the flames.

“I mean it.”

Anna looked back to him, his brown eyes seeming to sparkle in the fire light. “Mean what?”

“That you deserve to be here more than anyone else. You know why?”

Anna shook her head.

“Because you actually care about this stuff. Most people just come for the jewels or publicity or money, but you genuinely care about the history of it all. You care about why and how these ruins were here, what happened to the people that lived within these walls. I mean, I have never met someone that could get so excited at just finding a decrepit mummy.”

Anna giggled. “Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Kristoff said with a chuckle and by god’s above she would never get tired of seeing his smile. “Seriously though,” He said, taking hold of one of her hands. “I mean it. You...you deserve it just as much, if not more, than anyone else here.”

“Especially my brother?”

“Especially your brother.”

Anna laughed again, looking down at where there hands met and bit her lip at how much larger his hands were compared to her own. They were rough and scarred but so incredibly gentle. Without thinking, she ran her thumb over the back of his hand, enjoying the feel of her hand in his.

In response, he squeezed her hand and Anna looked up to find him looking at her with the softest smile. The idea to kiss him came to mind and she couldn’t help but look down at his lips and back to his eyes.

Kristoff must have noticed as Anna swore she could see a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Looking into his brown eyes, she suddenly felt the dying urge to give in and kiss him. Not sure whether to blame herself or the liquid courage within her, she whispered as she began to lean towards him, “Kristoff…”

“OI!”

Anna jumped, nearly falling over at the sound of her very drunk brother. Sven was sitting straight up, eyes barely open and head lolled to the side as he looked at the pair.

Completely unaware.

“Whut’s a boi gots to do to get a drinksss around here aye?”

Trying to catch her breath, Anna managed to speak, “You’re cut off Sven. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m completely fine.” Sven muttered as he fell back over onto his mat. As he began to snore, Anna took a deep breath as she looked back to Kristoff.

He was blushing, that much was very obvious, but he kept his eyes down in the sand as he spoke, “I think we should both get some sleep...big day and all.”

“Oh…” Anna said, not at all hiding the disappointment in her voice. “Oh, yes, alright.”

Biting her lip, she stood and walked around the fire to her mat. She was a fool, an utter fool for trying to kiss him. For thinking he would want to kiss her.

What was she thinking?

She wasn’t thinking, Anna realized, she was merely following along with the pull the alcohol no doubt created.

Or did it?

What if it had just given her the ounce of courage she had been looking for, had finally pushed her to cross that line like she had been wanting to? What if, in fact, she did like him and hoped beyond all hopes he did too.

Anna shook her head, pushing out the thought.

No, she was an idiot for trying it, for even thinking that maybe he was interested in her. There was no way a man like him, a natural born explorer and adventurer, would ever be interested in a lousy know-it-all librarian.

Still...

“Anna?”

She turned around, looking over the fire at Kristoff as he remained sitting. “Yes?”

A moment of silence came between them, nothing but the crackle of the fire and sounds of the night. Neither moved, neither breathed a word as they both simply stared at the other.

Anna took in the sight of him within the fire light, how he seemed to look how it made his eyes nearly gold, the same ones that seem to be lost in her own eyes as she was in his. How he looked at her as though she was the only human being on this planet.

For a moment, a fleeting moment, she thought he might come to her. Might grab her in his arms and kiss her like she had wanted to do not a moment before.

Kristoff let out a sigh, turning away and breaking the moment as he muttered, “Goodnight.”

Clenching her dress, Anna managed a soft goodnight in return and laid down onto her mat.

Disappointment gripped her, her heart hammering in her chest as she fought back the bit of tears that threatened to form.

She would not cry, she refused to cry. There was no reason to be shedding tears over a man that was obviously not at all interested in her.

Yet, there had been the moment just before, where his eyes bore into her own and looked to her as though she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

How Anna swore that he had leaned into her, following her lead before the almost kiss was interrupted.

Still, he hadn’t said a word. Had chosen to pretend it didn't happen and it killed Anna to think he’d rather dismiss what had nearly happened between them then to act on it. She was a fool, a fool who fell for any man that gave her an ounce of attention.

She was thankful she’d chosen to turn and face the stone wall instead of the fire, Kristoff unable to see her face as she fought her emotions. She couldn’t bear to look at him, so utterly embarrassed and god’s she still had days left at least on this excavation before they could depart from each other.

A fool. She was a complete fool.

Fighting her own emotions, Anna nearly missed the sound of Kristoff sighing and him groan,

“Idiot. Fucking idiot.”

Anna’s eyes went wide.

Was he talking about her? No, he couldn’t be. Not after he had spoken so kindly about her before.

So then, was he talking about himself?

Was he...was he regretting not making his move as much as she was?

No, Anna thought, there was no way.

But there was no denying the sound of disappointment in his voice when he had apparently chided himself. A tone all too familiar to Anna, a tone she herself had done oh so many times throughout her life. There was only one thing he could be regretting, could be so completely disappointed with himself for doing, or in fact not doing.

Smiling, a new flame of hope now lit within her, Anna let sleep consume her. Her mind now at peace at the fact that she was not the only one left disappointed.

#kristanna #kristoff #anna #sven #the mummy #jessica writes #oh hey #i wrote something

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constancevonnuvelle · 2 years

Note

🌙 - What’s their sleep schedule like?

🎁 - How do they feel about their birthday/birthdays in general?

🌙: Constance’s sleep schedule is very inconsistent and sporadic in nature. Sometimes she’ll sleep for almost entire days, sometimes because it’s too sunny out to do anything else, she’s worn herself out, or most commonly just to get people off her back for the other side of her sleep schedule. Once something catches her attention, Constance will stay awake for literal days. She just wants to make sure she gets her thought completed before she forgets her brilliant idea! She can’t risk forgetting and making something less than perfect, after all. But she’s fine, it’s not like she sleeps all that much when she isn’t making up for lost sleep anyway. She feels mostly the same when she gets 8 hours of sleep as she doesn’t for 30 minutes of sleep, so why not spend that time being productive! No time should be spent wasted when the restoration of house Nuvelle is on the line!

🎁: Despite what she may say when presented with a gift the day of, she doesn’t really remember her birthday. She doesn’t expect to receive anything and her time is better spent on other things that are actually helpful for achieving her goals, so she doesn’t really care about her own birthday anymore. The apathy helped her deal with the disappointment for not being able to be with her family on her birthday back when her house had just fallen, but now it’s just how things are. Other’s people’s birthdays fall into the same situation for Constance, unless she truly cares about them. She would never tell anyone, but she has a small calendar that she hides in her room. It has the birthdays of all her friends marked, as well as the ideal days to head out to the market to buy a present and potential party supplies (if that’s what she thinks the friend would want and no one else has offered to host yet). It’s all written in tiny symbols that would just be nonsense if someone else were to stumble upon it, since she’s honestly a bit embarrassed about it. She will deny it’s existence to her grave.

#writing #ask meme #I randomly had that calendar idea when I started thinking about it #I just kind of went off on that lol #no idea what that was but hopefully it’s enjoyable #headcanon

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nagichi-boop · 3 years

Text

Miya Chinen - BPD Headcanons

Back at it again with the mental illness headcanons. Originally I was gonna do NPD Miya headcanons but then I also realised that Miya displays a few BPD symptoms, so I thought I’d explore that first since I am more familiar with BPD than I am with NPD.

Disclaimer: I am aware that personality disorders like bpd are diagnosed later in life. This theory is more just a casual exploration of the bpd traits Miya displays.

Spoilers ahead

Also, if Ad*m is a trigger for you, maybe skip this one because his name will come up quite a lot in this post and I will not be censoring his name for the remainder of this post.

Without further ado, here’s the headcanons!

1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment; (not including suicidal or self-mutilating behavior)

When Miya’s old friends rejected him, he was deeply hurt. From then on he pushes everyone away, instead viewing friendship as a burden more than a blessing, perhaps out of a fear of being abandoned again. When he sees Reki and Langa, he is confused as to why he is suddenly reminded of his past, but my assumption is that he was secretly jealous of what they had as he was alone. Then when Reki stood up to Adam, suddenly his world changed. He started to associate with Reki and Langa more and more, him being especially interested in Reki. He went from considering Reki as inferior to being genuinely concerned about him (more on that in a bit).

Later on though, Reki goes missing and Miya begins to act somewhat cold to others (such as Langa). When he eventually sees Reki, he is deeply upset that he stopped showing up without saying anything. Despite his hurt, Miya tried to put it behind him, instead asking him to come back. Reki refuses and pushes past Miya, who yells out for Reki to wait. Then when he keeps running, he gets upset because Reki has “abandoned” him.

As an extra note, when Adam calls Miya “empty”, he gets deeply hurt by this, perhaps because it feels like the one person who respected him or had any connection with him has seemingly lost interest. Thank you Reki for stepping in ily

2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation

When it comes to his relationship with Reki and Langa, they tend to fluctuate quite rapidly. At first Miya almost despises them because of how close they are, jealous of their friendship. However after having Reki stand up for him, his attitude towards them shifts. Suddenly Reki is someone he wants to be around, someone he deeply cares about, even if he doesn’t show it very well.

When Reki stops showing up, that’s all Miya can think to ask Langa about and he seems to be somewhat cold towards Langa, whether that’s because he feels closer to Reki or has a suspicion that Langa is why Reki isn’t there. After all, Reki is the one who stood up to him, not Langa.

Then when he finally finds Reki, he is desperate to have him stay. But as soon as Reki runs off, all the good feelings towards Reki drop and Miya calls him a liar. When he comes back, Miya once again views Reki with admiration and care, to the point that he is the only one who is vocally and visibly concerned about Reki during his race against Adam, yelling at Reki to stop and begging Joe to stop the race.

3. Markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self

Miya views himself as superior to others, likening himself to the hero of the story. When he loses to Langa and is called empty by Adam, however, he seems to have a major shift in perception, perhaps feeling deeply hurt to the point of feeling like he has nothing to offer. Skating is his bragging point, so to have lost to a rookie and be discarded by the person who had expectations of you - that has to do something to your self esteem.

He is shown quite a few times to let down his guard and be more humble, which shows that he doesn’t always view himself above others. For instance, when he told Reki not to skate against Adam, he did so likely out of a mix of concern and low self esteem, not wanting Reki to get hurt because of him (or at least that’s how I see it).

4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (eg, spending, s*x, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating); (not including suicidal or self-mutilating behavior)

Miya doesn’t fit this criteria. He tends to think through things a lot more and actually tends to err on the side of caution a lot more than his family peers do.

5. Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior

Again, this one doesn’t really apply. Moving on-

6. Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (eg, intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)

Miya’s mood can change quite frequently. Let’s take his beef with Langa for example. He starts off feeling confident, viewing the beef more like a walk in the park than an actual competition. Then when he is reminded of his past, he suddenly becomes frustrated and that’s reflected in his increased focus in the beef. When he sees Langa attempting a dangerous move, he stops, immediately calling out expressing his concern for Langa despite previously being cold towards him. Having lost to Langa, Miya becomes upset, then is angered by Reki flicking him. He then becomes overwhelmed and happy (though he doesn’t immediately show it) that Reki promises not to abandon Miya, even laughing at Reki’s antics. When Adam enters and calls Miya empty, his mood immediately shifts to intense anxiety and upset.

In just that one instance, Miya fluctuates between various extremes of emotion - anger, upset, joy - all within a relatively short amount of time.

7. Chronic feelings of emptiness

When watching the video of Miya practicing, Reki makes a comment that Miya doesn’t look happy. In fact, he tends to put on a fake smile and smug persona when actually he is lonely and hurt. The passion he had for skating has disappeared, but he continues because it’s what he is good at - the people around him can all see that. Despite that, the enjoyment has gone. But when Reki comes around and is soon joined by the others, he seems to enjoy skating a lot more and that emptiness is less frequent.

8. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (eg, frequent displays of temper, constant anger, or recurrent physical fights)

Miya is shown to have quite a short fuse. I don’t really have much of an elaboration, so here’s a small list of sorts of the times he has easily snapped.

His jealously causes him to feel resentment towards Reki and Langa. Remembering his past experiences with his friends also caused him to feel more upset and caused him to be more focused on the beef against Langa. When Langa misquotes something Miya says, he gets angry at Langa, partially out of embarrassment. At the beach when everyone is fussing over Joe, Miya’s annoyance gets channeled into him sabotaging Joe though my theory is he somewhat did this because he noticed Reki was annoyed. As previously mentioned, Miya got mad at Reki for pushing him aside and abandoning him. There’s probably more examples but hopefully my point is made.

His anger never really shows up as physical aggression. It’s usually in the form of insults or showing off with his skating.

9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms

Once again, I have little to no evidence for this. However, it’s possible that Miya’s flashback mid-beef with Langa could have been a form of dissociation as he even comments ‘why am I remembering this now?’ But more likely this just isn’t a symptom he experienced.

Anyways, this post was kind of more projection. I think that even if Miya doesn’t fully have bpd, he most definitely has traits of it, the most notable features being about his fears and responses to abandonment (real or perceived).

#sk8 the infinity #sk8 the infinity headcanons #sk8 the infinity spoilers #sk8 #miya chinen #sk8 adam #tw self harm mention #tw suicide mention #bpd #eupd #borderline personality disorder #emotionally unstable personality disorder #tooth don’t look #nagichi headcanons

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