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fallenrazziel · 1 year

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Les Chroniques de Livaï #554 ~ L'INSOUCIANCE NE S'IMPROVISE PAS (septembre 846) Kryshan

L'histoire de Livaï comme vous ne l'avez jamais lue. Le personnage le plus populaire de L'Attaque des Titans, le soldat le plus fort de l'humanité… Qui est-il vraiment ? Qu'a-t-il dans le coeur ? Qu'est-ce qui a fait de lui ce qu'il est ? Je me suis mise en devoir de répondre à ces questions en vous livrant ma propre vision de sa vie, de ses pensées, des épreuves qu'il a traversées, ainsi que celles des personnes qui l'ont côtoyé, aimé, admiré, craint, détesté. Si j'essaie le plus possible de respecter le canon, quelques libertés seront prises sur les aspects de sa vie les plus flous. Quelques personnages seront également de mon invention. Livaï, un homme que l'on croit invincible et inatteignable… Est-ce bien sûr ? Jugez-en par vous-mêmes.

Le caporal-chef nous fait suffisamment confiance pour nous laisser nous débrouiller, j'en suis très fier ! On va patrouiller dans la zone à la recherche de beaux titans à amener au chef Hanji, elle sera contente.

Son enthousiasme face à son captif était communicatif ; même si les titans m'inspirent plus de tristesse qu'autre chose... Elle semble avoir à coeur d'apprendre tout ce qu'elle peut d'eux. le caporal n'est pas de cet avis, il n'a pas cessé de rouspéter depuis que nous sommes partis. Hier soir déjà, il était à deux doigts de se rebeller contre l'ordre du major, ce qui aurait été une première. Mais même lui ne peut pas se permettre ça. Il a fait bonne figure mais on sait tous ce qu'il en pense. Pour lui, tout ceci ne sert à rien, les titans sont des ennemis à abattre, un point c'est tout.

Je suis partagé sur la question. Je ne sais pas si ça nous mènera quelque part, mais ce serait bien si le caporal se montrait plus coopératif et compréhensif avec sa collègue. Mais l'imprudence du chef Hanji le met hors de lui. Ils sont pas du tout sur la même ligne là-dessus, haha ! Si j'en crois Gunther, c'est un vrai miracle si ces deux-là ne sont pas encore écharpés, alors espérons que la journée se finisse bien.

Pour l'instant, dirigeons-nous vers le Mur ; le caporal nous y a envoyés parce que le major voudra peut-être un rapport. Et aussi parce que l'équipe de Zacharias est partie dans cette direction. Il vaut mieux rester pas loin d'eux, en soutien. On a quasiment pas eu de contacts, mais ce sont des téméraires, ils foncent vers le danger sans réfléchir. Il est préférable aller à leur rencontre et les encadrer.

Wouah, je me mets à réfléchir comme un chef d'escouade maintenant ! Tu y crois, Ber ? Il ne me répond pas et nous continuons de slalomer entre les arbres jusqu'à la muraille imposante. Il y a quelques mètres à parcourir à pieds avant de l'atteindre, puis nous plantons ensemble nos grappins pour nous propulser dans les airs. Cette sensation de filer comme le vent le long de la façade est incroyable, aucune ne peut s'y comparer !

Nous courons sur la surface afin de nous diriger là où le major est censé se trouver. Suspendus au rempart, nous voyons le grand homme se pencher vers nous et exiger des nouvelles. Tout va bien, major, aucun blessé. Les équipes fonctionnent bien et le capitaine Hanji procède à des examens et récupération de matériaux de recherche sur les titans capturés.

J'ai adopté le ton le plus professionnel dont je suis capable, remarquant bien tout le monde qui se presse tout autour, avide de m'entendre. Je me sens tout d'un coup très important, et, mieux que tout, personne ne semble intéressé par notre apparence, à mon frère et moi, ce qui me soulage.

Le major me demande où se trouve le caporal. Il est parti rejoindre nos camarades, au sud. Il est ravi d'avoir pu aider le capitaine Hanji dans son projet... Ber me fourre le coude dans les cotes discrètement mais je l'ignore. C'est vrai, non ? Bon, j'ai peut-être pas utilisé le terme exact, mais il faut bien enjoliver un peu les choses, pour ceux qui écoutent... Et puis au moins, je mets pas le caporal dans l'embarras, personne a besoin de savoir pour les disputes...

J'ai à peine eu le temps de communiquer ça à Bernon que le capitaine Zacharias, lui aussi penché sur nous, se redresse d'un coup et indique du doigt une direction, les sourcils froncés. Je suis son geste et distingue alors au loin, à quelques kilomètres du Mur, un signal de fumée. De détresse, en fait ! Il vient de loin... C'est l'équipe des casse-cous, c'est sûr ! Que font-ils si loin là-bas ? Ils ont du courser un titan et se font fait coincer ! Major, nous y allons de suite !

Il approuve de la tête et nous laisse nous envoler. Ber et moi filons le long de la muraille, les yeux fixés sur le point précis d'où s'élève le panache de fumée ; ce n'est pas censé être notre secteur, mais peut-être se sont-ils mis en tête de faire barrage face à un groupe de grands gabarits. S'ils ont cru bon de lancer cette fusée, c'est qu'ils sont vraiment en difficulté !

Ber, reste en arrière ! Je vais voir en premier comment ça se présente, réserve tes forces ! Il approuve silencieusement et perd de la vitesse afin de me laisser passer devant. Nos réserves de gaz ne sont guère entamées - nous avons fait le plein durant notre pause près du poste de capture - mais autant ne pas le gaspiller ; sans compter que les arbres se font plus rares par ici, nous devons étudier notre trajectoire.

Je saisis vite la situation, en un clin d'oeil. Une mêlée de titans - dont au moins deux déviants d'après ce que je vois - est lancée aux trousses de nos têtes brûlées. Elles tentent de leur échapper en s'éparpillant parmi les quelques arbres, mais leur manège ne durera pas. Les grandes mains baladeuses commencent déjà à écarter les branches...

Ok, Ber, changement de plan. On y va tous les deux et on donne tout ce qu'on a, ou cette journée va finir en bain de sang. Le caporal a peut-être vu le signal mais il est loin, il pourra pas rappliquer à temps sans cheval. C'est à nous de jouer ! On doit faire en sorte de les couvrir afin qu'ils puissent se mettre à l'abri sur Rose ! Ce qui implique de tuer un maximum de ces monstres ! Je vais m'appliquer pour les coups de grâce, quant à toi, te mets pas en danger, ne frappe qu'au bon moment !

Sont-ils encore tous en vie ? Qu'importe, je fonds sur le titan le plus proche. Ber l'anticipe comme à son habitude et se dirige vers le second. Merde, les casse-cous sont dispersés, c'est pas simple pour nous ! Il faudrait qu'ils se regroupent... J'ai pas le choix. Je me pose à terre et me mets à gueuler ! Heeeey ! Ecoutez ! Le Mur Rose est dans cette direction ! Allez-y et on s'occupe d'eux ! J'agite mes lames pour attirer l'attention des géants et je suis soulagé quand j'y parviens. Je redécolle enfin en plantant mes filins dans le corps du plus proche, mais sa nuque ne se dévoile pas tout de suite, je dois tourner autour de lui. Il balance son bras vers moi comme si j'étais un moustique gênant et je décide de m'en débarrasser. Le membre vole dans les airs, me laissant le champ libre vers son point faible. Je virevolte vers son cou et frappe juste un peu trop court ; ma lame ne fait qu'entamer la chair. Le point fatal est juste un peu plus profond... Je refais un passage et taillade plus mortellement cette fois. Le titan tressaute, tourne sur lui-même, et s'écoule à terre.

Un soldat éreinté, le visage sale, se pose près de moi. Je me souviens pas de l'avoir déjà vu mais je lis la gratitude sur ses traits, même s'il ne se défait pas de son air suffisant. Aah, la vanité des jeunes recrues ! Bah, les remerciements seront pour plus tard. Tu as du gaz encore ? Il acquiesce. Dans ce cas, va au Mur Rose. Il refuse tout net, affirmant qu'il peut aussi se battre. Si tu veux, je suis pas ton chef, mais ma position me permet quand même de te donner des ordres. Si ça chauffe trop, tu te tires, d'accord ? Il s'éloigne sans mot dire, tandis que d'autres titans se présentent.

Jetant un oeil plus loin, je distingue un carnage de bras et de jambes qui volent dans tous les sens. Eh bien, soit Ber est en pleine forme, soit il a galvanisé les casse-cous ! Ou alors... merde, c'est peut-être mauvais signe ! S'il était arrivé quelque chose à mon frère, je le saurais, car nous sommes constamment connectés. Je le sens très concentré, très calme... Il prépare un coup fatal. Ce n'est pas lui qui découpe ces titans, je pense...

Je dois y aller ! C'est une chance que toute la horde se soit rassemblée ! Laisse-m'en quelques-uns, frérot ! Je décolle en faisant vrombir ma bobine, les pieds en avant, et atterrit sur le dos d'un des monstres. Je cours à la vertical, passe sur son épaule, observe un peu ce qui se passe, avant de m'élancer de nouveau dans les airs, évitant de peu ses mâchoires claquantes ! Trop lent, mon gros ! Il tente de me saisir et je lui sectionne le poignet ; puis je reviens aussitôt vers son visage pour zébrer ses yeux.

Rendu aveugle, il bouscule ses copains déjà handicapés qui chutent les uns après les autres. Un bon coup, ça ! J'aperçois Ber qui émerge de la mêlée, prêt à distribuer ces bottes mortelles. Dans le même mouvement, trois autres soldats s'extirpent aussi de l'amas de corps géants, en criant comme pour se donner du courage. Ok, ça fait donc quatre, il en manque un ! Où est le dernier ? J'entends alors des plaintes étouffés, et la vision d'un corps gigotant entre les dents blanches d'un titan fait bouillir mon sang... Pas de mort aujourd'hui !

Mais mon angle d'attaque n'est pas le bon. Les têtes des autres géants se trouvent sur ma trajectoire et je sais que je ne vais pas y arriver... Ber, où es-tu ?! C'est urgent, laisse tomber les autres, y'en a un qui va se faire bouffer ! A peine ai-je formulé cet appel mental qu'un éclat de lumière vient me frapper en pleine face et la mort fond sur la nuque du titan prêt à festoyer ! Le coup est si fort que la tête jaillit du cou, comme un bouchon, et vient frapper un arbre avec violence.

Je me précipite vers elle, terrifié à l'idée de l'état dans lequel je vais retrouver le malheureux... Je distingue la silhouette du soldat qui se glisse de sous la tête décapitée, secoué mais bien éveillé. Ouf, il a ses jambes ! Je le voyais bien revenir amputé ! Bien joué, Ber !

Le "malheureux" s'avère être une "malheureuse" en fait. Qui aime jurer, d'après ce que j'entends ! Elle jette à la tête du titan qui commence à s'évaporer un flot de jurons bien sentis, puis se met à boiter en venant s'appuyer sur une pierre. Une cascade de cheveux flamboyants vient couler sur sa cape verte et elle essaie tant bien que mal de les attacher de nouveau. On a pas le temps ! Ber s'occupe d'achever les survivants derrière mais il faut pas traîner, si d'autres se pointent !

Je me pose près d'elle et lui demande si elle a quelque chose de cassé. Elle se masse les cuisses et se débarrasse de sa botte gauche lacérée en la balançant par dessus sa tête. Je comprends que ses jambes ne fonctionnent plus pour le moment. Son équipement est pas en meilleur état, broyé par les mâchoires... Ok, on va faire au plus simple. Tu vas monter sur mon dos et je vais nous propulser vers Rose. Tu peux faire ça ?

Pour la première fois, elle fixe son regard sur moi et je note qu'il est très intimidant. C'est comme si je n'avais pas existé avant cet instant. Ses yeux sont d'un noisette très clair, presque doré, et ses joues couvertes de taches de rousseur. Elle m'aurait paru charmante dans toute autre situation mais un tête-à-tête avec les titans n'a rien de romantique !

Si tu veux vivre, tu dois t'en remettre à moi. Allez, grimpe ! Elle hésite un instant, n'ayant pas escompté un contact physique aussi rapproché avec quelqu'un aujourd'hui, mais devant la menace des titans dont les membres commencent à repousser - et je crois que leur nombre a augmenté ! -, elle finit par obtempérer. Elle coupe les courroies de son dispositif et saute sur mon dos. Ber, on se replie, suis-nous ! J'entends mon frère me répondre faiblement et je le cherche des yeux. Il nous a déjà devancés ; je l'aperçois s'envoler juste au-dessus de nous, hésitant à quitter les lieux tant que nous ne serons pas nous-mêmes en vol.

C'est la première fois que je fais ça. Je sais que c'est possible en théorie... Je me relève difficilement - la fille est plus lourde que je ne le pensais - et calcule ma trajectoire parmi les arbres jusqu'à Rose. Si je me loupe, on tombe tous les deux ! Allez, accroche-toi, c'est parti !

Je plante mon grappin dans un arbre proche et enclenche les gaz. Le souffle à peine précipité de ma camarade se fond dans celui du vent qui file, et tout à coup le poids se fait moins lourd. Je prends de la vitesse, à peine gêné par les cuisses de la fille serrées autour de ma taille, et le Mur se rapproche alors très vite. Génial, on va y arriver ! Ber me précède et prend même le temps d'éliminer un titan qui a eu l'imprudence de sauter pour tenter de nous gober ! Il l'a bien cherché !

Enfin, mon crochet s'agrippe à la jupe de Rose ! Ca a été facile finalement ! Je négocie mon atterrissage, mais je jauge mal nos deux poids conjugués et mon dernier mouvement manque d'élégance ! On s'en fout, on est vivants ! Je rembobine le filin et vise le parapet avec l'autre grappin, ce qui me permet de nous hisser sur le rempart. La fille et moi nous étalons par terre, essoufflés, et elle est vite placée sur un brancard sous les yeux du major qui a eu le temps d'accourir vers nous. Je me retourne sur le ventre et mes yeux plongent dans le vide qui s'ouvre sous moi... Je sens comme une aspiration fatale... C'est alors que le caporal surgit comme un diable de sa boîte, courant le long du Mur vers moi, pour me repousser en arrière. Il a l'air super inquiet, ce qui est exceptionnel.

Vous inquiétez pas, on a géré. Ils sont tous là, je pense... Ouf... je suis vanné mais c'était génial ! Enfin pas si génial que ça, mais... enfin, vous voyez ce que je veux dire ! Ca aurait pu mal finir et... la sensation du devoir accompli, quoi !...

Je lis dans ses yeux qu'il comprend très bien ce que je veux dire. Je lève le pouce en l'air en signe de victoire et j'aperçois à peine Ber se précipitant sur moi avant de me décider à perdre connaissance...

#lc554 #levi chronicles #les chroniques de livaï #fanfiction #fallenRaziel #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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kentomilk · 5 months

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ᴶᴶᴷ & ᴬᴼᵀ ᴵᴺ

𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ‧₊𓎩˚

with your partner yearning for an approachable gateway and immersion into your culture as well as an official introduction into your family, what better way to do that than with dumplings?

catalogue. fluff, modern au, pre-established relationship, written with fem!reader in mind; but no pronouns specified. cw: food preparation/ intended consumption, mildly suggestive (?) cultural traditions, domestic family teasing, mentions of children, alcohol consumption/ age not explicitly specified; but intended to be over 21 per US laws. wc: 1.2k thea’s preamble. by definition a dumpling is a small mound of dough flattened, maintaining a certain thickness for chew or absolute thinness, then filled with a well-seasoned paste/mixture, usually meat. like, gyoza 餃子, mandu 만두, xiao long bao 小笼包 which is my primary inspiration. BUT there's also lumpia from Indonesia and the Philippines, Italian ravioli, Indian modak, Polish pierogi, South American empanadas (i fucking love empanadas), pasteles, Ukrainian vareniky, Botswanan madombi, British pasty. my point is if you don't read into it too intensely, this is for anyone.

it was intended to be such an intimate moment and in their eyes the official inauguration to your family, as well as the perfect entry point into learning about your culture that you’ve only grown stronger and more confident in with age. and what better way to immerse yourself in another’s culture than through food?

with that being said…they tried, they really did.

it seemed simple in theory, add a decent bundle of the filling to the center of the wrapper, fold the wrapper over itself, and apply the liquid adhesive to seal the seams, crimping, folding, or rolling the seams shut as needed. simple right?

well apparently not, there’s a tray full of “complete” dumplings with tears in the dough and the filling either smeared or oozing out, over-filled, or not enough… and it's quite obvious who made those. the intricacy and swiftness that you and your parents achieved thus producing a quarter sheet pan’s worth, overwhelmed the poor baby. they certainly have their strengths lying primarily in physicality, but the agility and patience needed for such a small product outcome were not in their capabilities.

you reassured them that it wasn't uncommon to have such results, frankly, it was impressive for a first-timer that they didn't collapse from frustration. "you'll get it eventually, today you just relax." you consoled, rubbing your hand on top of theirs.

"plus, you're still considered a guest, you have plenty of time before you're officially let into the pack and forced to do the mountain of dishes or babysit." you chuckled.

to which they agreed, today their strengths would lie in being the human ladder to get objects from high-up places, refilling wine and liquor for the adults, providing sliced fruits, and just sitting at the table supervising the unspoken competition of who can make the most dumplings, replenishing scarce ingredients as needed to. salivating at the sight as well as the uncooked aroma from the fresh herbs and spices used. surrounded by family, engaging in lively or even profound conversations, no matter how shy they were initially.

rest assured, there’s nothing to be ashamed of, and maybe another time they’ll give it another shot, but for now, they’ll leave it to the pros.

EREN, JEAN ANNIE, GOJO, TOJI

their initial attempts were… admirable, but they weren’t satisfied with that. they wanted to do right by you, secure the approval of your family, and not feel absolute guilt at only contributing to the conversation and not the actual meal assembly process.

simply put, they're quite stubborn. they carefully studied each family member, the differing methods, and tendencies. from the angle of spooning the filling in the wrapper to the adhesive sealing— plain water vs. starch water?

they were determined, and with patience and encouragement from family, they were finally able to produce a perfect little flavor receptacle, savory and hearty. shrieking out an unexpected, "i did it!" that garnered a reaction that you couldn't help but laugh at either.

but they would not yet allow themselves even a minute victory until they garnered 100% of the acceptance, mainly from their own inner conflict of merit.

this may be their first time truly comprehending the phrase, ‘tasting the fruits of your labor’. and never had they had a sweeter meal, not in the literal sense of a saccharine feast. but the resolve and dogged attitude (stubbornness) was a taste that they would savor in the complete dish, something they would come to value greatly come the next culinary undertaking. "i made this!" they'd think to themself.

try not to be too surprised if you catch them in the early morning, meticulously crimping, folding, and rolling the edges of the wrapper, ensuring as little air as possible gets in the center, just as your grandmother taught them.

more than that it was an amusing sight seeing them nearly nude only wearing a pink frilly apron that you were gifted from relatives, "what do you think?" they teased, a question which you rolled your eyes at, considering they weren't asking about the food.

though you must admit, they did look incredible, for a rookie. and it was a beautiful sight to behold, an incredibly attractive person cooking in your kitchen, insistent on making you proud. i guess now the only issue lies in the lack of space in your freezer in contrast to the large batches of dumplings that are sure to last you months. let's hope this is an acceptable housewarming gift for the new neighbors.

BERTHOLDT, REINER, CONNIE , SUKUNA (hear me out), CHOSO

are we surprised? though they may not seem like the kinds to thrive in arts and crafts, their handiwork is nimble, and their dexterity is unmatched. they were initially slow to follow the instructions given to them, but after diligent observation, it was a task pursued and completed well. almost as if they too partook in similar repetitive affairs in their youth. sitting around the dining table, with heaps of filling and a lofty stack of dough wrappers, sometimes there’d be music in the back, but even if there was it would always be drowned out by the conversation that were being had. an endless variety of discussion topics, filled with light-hearted quarrels and absolute fits of laughter.

and if you’re being completely honest, it’s been approximately 5 minutes since the laughter erupted, and you can’t even remember what was so funny that you’re now clutching your stomach in what may be the best kind of pain, struggling to catch your breath and maintain composure. those were some of the memories you held dearly when you were younger, and it’s no different now. and with them by your side, falling in love over again with what seems like the acme of your joy, one they’d hope to preserve and maintain for as long as possible. a pride that one simply can't explain.

but where there is pride and inflated egos, there are grandmothers and aunties to humble you, making remarks comparing your tray to your partners.

"wowww, this is your first time, and they look perfect!" they'd exclaim, making their way around the table. "you should take lessons from them." they'd continue teasing you, whilst pinching your partner's cheek or slapping them on the back just a little too hard.

by the end of the feast, your partner certainly got the elders' approvals, no less by your parents, who absolutely adore them. it’s also a food they loved eating, lovingly introduced by you, and now you’ve made them even more of a fiend then they already were. fully enjoying the bonding experience this has facilitated, as well a first-hand experience to the little things that helped maintain your cultural identity.

and they would be lying if they weren’t completely consumed by the thought that one day you would be the ones your ancestors depended on to carry on the traditions. with the future generations of your bloodline, if not your own children by preference, then your nieces, nephews, and cousins, who are currently wrapped around their very finger. to them, a jungle gym to be climbed, a pristine and willing model for a family-renowned makeup artist, an unsuspecting outsider that could be the green light for some sweets that the parentals refused earlier, but they don’t need to know that.

ERWIN, LEVI, ARMIN, SASHA, MIKASA, GETO, NANAMI, SHOKO

above all a lovely bonding experience for you and your partner:)

[interactions] reblogs, comments & likes are appreciated ₊˚⊹♡

dividers by @/pettypixels-love

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huntunderironskies · 3 months

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hi sorry to bother ypu again but i wanted to ask How would werewolves that still keep their old religion syncretized them together ? Especially when in regards of judaism

Okay, uh, this got really long, wow. Hopefully that makes it clear you have absolutely no reason to feel like you're bothering me because I love this stuff.

I do really hesitate to answer for Judaism because pre-Nicene Christianity and mysticism (and to a much lesser extent Sufism) are my focus areas so I am not an authority at all, but I can try. Also I've specifically taken a class on theological philosophy done by a fairly authoritative figure in free will theology so I think about the relationship between people and god/s a lot which means I can kind of give a generalist answer there. I'm primarily familiar with monotheistic faiths and those are the faiths that are going to have to do some extra theological legwork to explain everything so I'll focus on that.

This is SUPER long so I'm going to put it below a cut, I'll also talk a little about my OCs to give some ways that I've had characters hold syncretic beliefs in case that inspires some ideas.

Content...warning....???: Lots and lots of existential matters, big thinks on salvation, theology talk, etc.

First things first: I am very biased since religious mysticism is one of my academic interests but I think mysticism and in particular ecstatic mysticism would square nicely with werewolf existence. Mysticism is much more personal and visceral than more traditional faith paths and the sense of uncomplicated joy that comes with ecstatic practices would be a really welcome break from the usual werewolf things. For more tame forms of mysticism, the sense of unity and peace would be nice too but it's easier to imagine a werewolf drifting towards the more active forms.

Onto actually talking about syncreticism. This is something that Christianity and also to some extent Islam* is concerned about, but it's very easy to justify other powerful beings that aren't God if you've been faced with seemingly undeniable reality that beings more powerful than humans exist. You do have to kind of grapple a lot with the idea as humanity being God's ultimate creation but if you're a werewolf you're sort of faced with that idea already, I'll have to return to that point briefly later. The methodology given to me that metaphysicists use to justify the qualities of being truly worthy of all worship, henceforth referred to as a capital-G God for simplicity's sake, are that this hypothetical God would have maximal qualities, meaning that God would have the greatest possible power in all attributes.

You might be more familiar with the term omnibenevolence, omniscience, etc. in this case but for whatever reason maximal qualities gets used more. I would imagine because it's more directly indicative, it gets you out of the mire of having to explain that, no, omnipotence does not mean that God can create a rock that he can't lift. Trying to define maximal attributes** does get you into some weird places outside of the "rock you can't lift" trope, I know one thing we talked about in my classes was with regards to how omniscience could be defined. The ultimate conclusion was "holding all possible knowledge" but "all possible knowledge" didn't include every possible thought because it would not be reasonable for God to have the same knowledge that you or I might of "I am [name]," as that would imply that God is you or I and also everyone else who has any self-awareness. This is perfectly fine if you're a pantheist (as with the very confusing love of my life, Anne Conway, who I would conduct necromancy on just to pick her brain) but less so for most traditional monotheistic faiths.

All of this is to say: a werewolf who wants to hold onto monotheistic faiths can justify it easily and not have it be totally logically inconsistent. It's not that Luna, the Firstborn, or Father Wolf are false gods, nor are they Gods, they're just very powerful beings. You don't have to and in fact shouldn't worship them, they don't have the necessary qualities that are deserving of worship. You can emulate them to some degree, you can acknowledge they helped create you, that's fine. But your God is the one who has earned your worship. You don't start bowing before the first Rank 5 spirit that crosses your path, do you? Just because something is powerful doesn't mean it's worthy of your love and devotion.

And, I mean, maybe there's kind of a point in there. Any werewolf who has ever talked to a Lune can tell you that Mother Moon is kind of unstable. There's also the issue that Father Wolf is, you know, dead, no matter how badly the Pure Tribes wish that wasn't the case, so you can't do a whole lot with that.

Monotheistic pantheism or religiously focused panpsychism*** (which isn't out of the question for Christians, at least, Alfred North Whitehead and Anne Conway were panpsychists while Baruch Spinoza was a Jewish panpsychist) also provides a pretty easy out there and even kind of has some grounding since panpsychism and animism are closely related. If you're going with a Conwayist (this is a word I have just made up as one of the five people who really like Anne Conway) interpretation, you could have fully sapient Rank 6 spirits be another sort of middle-nature conduit between werewolves and God. Spirits can grant the omnipotent powers that God has, making werewolves more like-God, but they lack the omnibenevolent qualities and remain imperfect and not-like-God. Again, not things you should emulate, but part of God's perfect plan.

...actually I think I'm onto something here, I might have to double back to work on this later and make a Lodge with this as their viewpoint.

So on the upside for people who want to hold onto their original faith path, the thing about a lot of religions is when that magic is effectively real, suddenly miracles get a lot easier to explain. Prophets could be otherwise ordinary humans inspired by God but they could also be supernatural beings. Or you just start having your own miracle-workers who are supernatural beings guided by God. The Storm Lords in one game I ran were very connected to the Catholic Church and had their own secret saints they venerated, some of whom were Storm Lords, but not all. Storm Lords are very Catholic in general in my opinion. Big focus on stoically enduring suffering and trying to attain a greatness you'll never be able to really achieve. That's neither here nor there though.

Under this paradigm, Gifts are basically little miracles you can perform. Yeah, they're kind of grim sometimes, but so are the ones in saint stories. I mean, you get things like people carrying their own decapitated heads. Acts of God don't need to be tame or gentle or clean. Werewolves would absolutely be the more blunt-force instrument of divine power in this sense and it's something that a werewolf who believes this would want to embrace.

I think it also kind of helps out werewolves to know how closely connected they are to humanity and that a huge chunk of sapient supernatural beings (I would personally not say that God-Machine angels, spirits, most goetia, honestly kind-of-sort-of the True Fae, etc have both free will and sapience as a philosopher might define it but we are REALLY getting out into the weeds there) are born as humans. Some of them might still think of themselves as human, just either cursed or blessed by God, which still leaves humanity as the ultimate creation of God as suggested by the Bible. This is really more a Christian concern than anything else, though, I'm pretty sure Imago Dei is almost exclusively Christian as a theological concept.

That said there's definitely room to go the Lancea et Sanctum route and become incredibly self-loathing and see yourself as fundamentally damned or undeserving of whatever reward humans might eventually get. Living a life of extreme violence when most monotheistic faiths are generally against excessive violence would be a problem. Most faiths account for righteous wars of some kind (some Christian denominations would not, you'd really struggle as a Quaker werewolf) and the issue comes more in the form of Death Rage being indiscriminate. Directing violence at those who've earned it is fine, but you can't always do that. It's really hard to pull yourself away from the idea of being uniquely evil in that regard.

There might be a tendency to skew towards the Flesh due to that. Death Rage is fundamentally a werewolf's spirit-side coming to the front. They're not really a person anymore, they're a person-shaped conduit for death because they're in part spirits of the hunt. I think it'd be easy for a monotheistic werewolf to see their spirit-side as the "evil" half of their being and for in particular Christian werewolves...possibly also Sikh werewolves since I know that rage is one of the Five Thieves.

I did do a paper on Sikhi practice (I would have gotten to visit one of the few gurdwara in my region in-person and didn't because of the pandemic and I am still super bitter about it,) so I can touch on that a tiny bit as well. Sikhi syncreticism for werewolves would probably focus a lot on trying to control and overcome Death Rage. I cannot imagine there being a lot of Blood Talons among Sikh werewolves and the ones that are there would really, really, REALLY lean in hard on the "learning to control your Rage" aspects of being a Blood Talon.

Quick note on another consideration. For Muslim werewolves or any other Muslim supernatural being, the idea that anyone could become a prophet after Muhammad would be a huge theological no-go. Less of a big deal in the other monotheistic faiths, though. But a cornerstone of Islam is that Muhammad is the final prophet. I think your average Muslim Cahalith could and would make a case they have supernatural insight, but it's not necessarily God telling them how to guide humanity. I know that by Sufi folklore a few wali were supposed to have incredible awareness of events going on around them (the story I'm thinking of is an anecdote of a wali whose name escapes me who saw a bird suddenly fall to the ground dead and knew this was a sign that a sultan had died) but these miracles were not supposed to make them speak for God. Point is, I cannot imagine a Muslim Cahalith ever thinking of themself as being part of a prophet class from my admittedly still limited understanding of Islam.

Oh, Muslim werewolves would also have a leg up in the sense that it's acknowledged in the Qu'ran that anyone can become a Muslim, even jinn...or werewolves, and they'll still attain salvation so long as they follow God faithfully. I think you would see more self-loathing amongst Christian werewolves than Muslim or Jewish or Sikh werewolves, in short.

Also, not an expert on Zoroastrianism other than having a vague awareness of its influence on the other monotheistic religions and knowing the fun factoid that sometimes Zoroastrians were counted among the People of the Book early on in Islam's history, but I think that Zoroastrian werewolves would have a unique niche here in being able to justify their beliefs. From my limited understanding you could potentially qualify the Firstborn as being ahura while a lot of nastier spirits and ESPECIALLY Wound-related phenomena as being Aka Manah. It feels like a huge missed opportunity that there wasn't a Zoroastrian Lodge or that the Lodge of the Savior didn't have at least some Zoroastrian presence at some point or another. In its defense, the concept of the Maeljin being corrupted versions of werewolf Renown didn't exist until 2e (and to be perfectly clear, is a fantastic idea that makes the Maeljin and Bale Hounds more focused around werewolf concerns.)

Bloodless hunts would be super appealing to monotheistic werewolves as well. Claiming territory from wicked people, tracking down lost knowledge, that kind of thing. You'd also have to work a lot harder to make sure you're killing someone who deserves it. If they're sapient. Which, again, things like Shards and spirits arguably aren't. You can logic yourself into the position that the reason that murder is bad is because it's inflicting pain on someone pretty easily, you don't have to take a commandment at purely face value. If you explore why God has forbidden something, that gives you a lot more loopholes to work with. Ideally you want to be consistent with your logic, but not everyone is. The one issue is the Hunt has to be proactive by definition, while the most cut and dry examples of justifiable violence in these traditions comes from self-defense.

To get into how I've had my characters deal with theological issues...my only two still-Christian werewolves are Philippe (pictured in my avatar) and Levi (I've posted art of him a few times.) I'll talk mostly about Levi since his personal theology is the most complex and gives an idea of how weird theology can become if you're a werewolf.

Levi is a member of the Lodge of the Savior and is actively convinced that the material world is Hell while the Shadow is just another circle or facet of that. A lot of this is because the Flesh seems to have a direct link to whatever is inside Wounds, and it's way, way too easy to rip open a hole there. He can also see the God-Machine (long story) which really isn't helping.

Like most Thebans he's committed himself to hunting Malejin, killing Bale Hounds, and closing Wounds. He doesn't think salvation is beyond reach, but the way he's reasoned the world being as bad as it is is because in his personal theology, well, God can't help you if you're in Hell.

Most of this is heavily influenced by a regional cult called the Church of the Night Angel, which he is technically a member of. They believe that all sapient monsters are gifted their miraculous powers by a servant of God they call the Night Angel (who gets syncretized with a lot of minor deities and also is sometimes, albeit rarely, identified as Vahishtael,) but those gifts have been corrupted by a being known as the First Lie, the Spire, the Adversary, and about a dozen other epithets into what they are now (translator's note: the First Lie is the God-Machine.) The God-Machine, being jealous of God's wonderful creations, stole humanity from Him and trapped them in Hell.

They still have the chance to choose good, it's just harder than it should be. As such the highest duty they have is to fight the servants of the First Lie. These are defined as demons (beings without free will created by the First Lie to serve It,) the Pretenders (natives of the material world who try to deceive others into following them over God or His servant who has come to free everyone from Hell, the Night Angel, but ultimately serve a greater purpose in the world) and the Fallen-of-Purpose. The Fallen-of-Purpose are the worst of all these. The Pretenders and demons can't help what they are, but the Fallen-of-Purpose are monsters who make the active choice to do what the First Lie wants them to do by submitting to the evil parts of their nature.

Oh, to be clear as an aside, when I say material world I mean everything in the Fallen World. This includes places like the Hedge, Shadow, and so on. Those are just a different kind of Hell.

Note that as a supernatural taxonomy, this is a really bad one due to how loosely defined the categories are especially when you get really trigger-happy around things that aren't "of the Night Angel" and the Angelaltrists tend to speak very authoritatively about other monsters in extremely simplistic ways. Their attempts to fight the God-Machine also end up with a lot of splash damage and they kill both capital-D Demons and Angels without discrimination (and yes, under their taxonomy, Angels are demons. Don't think too hard about it.) You would be very hard-pressed to find an Angelaltrist who would take a Demon at their word that they've broken free of the God-Machine because all of them consider anything of the God-Machine to be ontologically evil by the transitive property. Things that are of the God-Machine are not of God and not of the Night Angel. QED.

Malejin are pretty definitively demons under this theory, and I'd almost say Levi is more an Angelaltrist than a Hound of God even if he kind of takes aspects of both. As a Storm Lord he primarily focuses his efforts on people who are being Ridden by Wound-corrupted spirits and people Claimed by the Wounded spirits, and of course to close Wounds as a preventative measure. He doesn't have to deal with any real regret for killing Claimed either. The person is long dead and the spirit killed them. You're just destroying a shell.

It's a matter of figuring out if the spirit should be eliminated for good from there. If it's a Wounded spirit, you're just conducting an act of euthanasia. It's destroying a rabid animal, nothing more or less. Better it die fast than letting it live through the pain of falling to the Maeljin.

He sees Mother Moon as being just one aspect of the Night Angel and a representation of her fiercer aspects, while Winter Wolf is an early creation of the Night Angel who is especially powerful and has attained something close to living sainthood. That's why he hasn't died yet (read: why his Avatars are still wandering about.) He's strong enough he's chosen to continue living and fighting, rather than taking the offer of eternal repose in the Night Angel's paradise that all good monsters are offered. This just makes Winter Wolf even more of an ideal to live up to.

Philippe is still trying to deal with the whole monster thing. After a very delayed rite of passage (which involved switching Tribes from the Storm Lords to the Hunters in Darkness) he's sort of settled comfortably-ish into his new life with some trepidation. He largely sees the Firstborn as being more or less real, but not possessing maximal qualities worthy of worship. Black Wolf is the kind, gentle mother you can always talk to but she's not God-- she kind of takes the place of Mother Mary here, or just a really, REALLY powerful patron saint. And when I've written them, I've had the Hunters in Darkness be pretty guilty of putting Black Wolf above Mother Moon and Father Wolf, sometimes to the point of thinking she's now surpassed Father Wolf as a hunter even when he was at the height of his strength. So he doesn't really dwell on them very much. Father Wolf is dead and Black Wolf is alive. Mother Moon doesn't really call that often.

He definitely sees himself as not necessarily of humanity but not undeserving of salvation because the idea of not being able to be saved doesn't square with an omnibenevolent God. Was the blood sacrifice of Jesus meant for him too? Well, probably. He can make the active choice to follow Jesus. He's making every effort to do good in the world. If you're looking at this from a process theology standpoint, the Bible was written from the perspective of humans, so of course they're only thinking from a human perspective and not including beings of free will that aren't human. That doesn't mean that God can't love someone who isn't human and that God won't save someone who's made the free choice to follow Him.

He's very focused on killing Hosts, unsurprisingly. It's pretty easy to justify killing them, they set themselves up as false gods, aren't really whole beings anymore, and like, when you get down to it, you're only committing one-one-millionth of a murder so that's like, a venial sin at worst. But do you feel bad for every blade of grass you step on? Do you feel bad for taking an antibiotic to kill a disease? It is technically killing something. But you can't keep living if you don't walk, and there's more blades of grass out there than you can count. You'll die if you let an infection spread and then you'll take other people with you because you were too soft. God understands that.

Also it's Wilmington, so he's in a target-rich environment. The Uglathu are a huge problem there and the whole region has been in an ecological death spiral for decades in part because of them. Otherwise he'd have to worry about diversifying into things that are harder to justify more often. He does avoid hunting humans and werewolves, all that said, and thinks it's generally the wrong thing to do except in the most extreme cases like Bale Hounds or Slashers. Especially for human criminals, that gets more into the area of things that only God can judge for. It's not a werewolf's place to intervene.

Well. Maybe you can gently nudge the human authorities in the right direction. But even that makes him feel a little guilty. It doesn't feel natural.

Sorry if this doesn't get into legalistic concerns much at all, I'm more focused on the metaphysical aspects of religion so I can't speak a whole lot to that. Werewolves being able to eat spirits would probably cause a lot of concern over what spirits are halal or kosher and what methods of killing them would be acceptable, but I have no clue how to answer that. I like thinking about how it is possible for something to become infinitely more full of light but not jurisprudence.

*post-script here to say that I had one of my professors, who is an expert in pre-Nicene Christianity and someone I admire a lot, say that generally speaking it was Christian theologians who really kicked off obsessing over what the qualities of God might be in the sense of "when we say God's hand is in something, are we giving human attributes to God and therefore suggesting God is like humans and not divine?!" type stuff. Rabbis tended to be more chill. I'll admit I've kind of taken what he says at face value since he's read a lot more material from that time period than me and also Saint Augustine had a huge impact on theology and he's the most neurotic man who ever lived so I would believe it. Him and his pears.

** another post-script to say that under this paradigm the God-Machine doesn't qualify as a God, we see plenty of proof the God-Machine is arbitrary and eminently fallible. While Its knowledge is obviously very far-reaching, and It's clearly acting with goal-focused behavior, you would have an incredibly hard time arguing Its actions are anything approaching benevolent and most free will theologians would take the fact It uses beings without free will as Its primary servants as hard proof It cannot be good

***yet another post-script to say that panpsychism is herein defined as all things possessing some level of mind, and that material differentiation are either inconsequential or purely illusion, if memory serves Conway was more in the first realm while Spinoza was in the second-- this will seem familiar if you've got any level of familiarity with Buddhism and after asking a few experts there's some consensus that Spinoza at least had some awareness with Buddhist philosophy and was influenced by it. It's less clear with Conway because we know way less about her life, sadly, and that's why I'm learning necromancy.

#werewolf the forsaken #chronicles of darkness #oh god long post warning #sorry you have activated my special interest trap card #oc tag #levi #philippe #ALSO REALLY SORRY TO ATARAXICPHILOCALIST I AM STILL WORKING ON YOUR ASK #I'LL TRY TO HAVE IT DONE TONIGHT

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thefairylights · 1 year

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all human blind date disaster coffee shop loustat au.

Good morning. :| I’m going to post this before I back out again. I started it months ago while I was writing something dark and needed a break from it. It’s going to be multi chapter and it’s going to be all human and yeah. I’m just doing it I’m posting it.

Summary:

All human Loustat first blind date is a disaster coffee shop alternate universe.

Or, Louis is just trying to rebrand and expand his family’s cafe to make his dreams come true while his sister insists a boyfriend will make his life better instead. Louis doesn’t agree, but agrees to the blind date anyway. It’s not a big deal. It’s just a blind date and nothing more.

Rating: Explicit (in future chapters)

Words: 7810 (chapter 1)

#my fic #loustat #loustat fic #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #daniel molloy #interview with the vampire #the vampire Armand #devil’s minion #gabrielle de lioncourt #grace de pointe du lac #Levi freniere #Loustat blind date au #Loustat all human au #Loustat coffee shop au #Iwtv fic #the vampire chronicles

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fruitybugboyart · 9 months

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hi! my name is Ry (he/they) im a trans and queer artist from texas! i mostly work in acrylic paints, block printing, and digital art. my main theme right now is nature and trans bodies and these fun little shaky stars i’ve started drawing!

you can check out my portfolio on my website! (this is also where you can contact me about commissions!)

you can also purchase stickers and totes on my redbubble!

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kissablelips-desireslure-vol3 · 1 month

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GETTING LEVI'S JOHNSON

Director: Chris Steele

Featuring: Tommy G. Landon Mycles

©️ JET SET MEN PRODUCTIONS

#THE KISSING CHRONICLES 3 #ADULT-ED #REVISITING DVD COLLECTION #LEVI GETS IT ON IN LOCKER ROOM #PARODY DVD #HIGH SCHOOL BUDDIES HAVE UNDENIABLE ATTRACTION #My GIFS #MYGIFSET #MY-GIF-EDIT #MARCUS MOJO'S OTHER NAME...LANDON MYCLES

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canadachronicles · 3 months

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youtube

I want to watch Good Grief. Not only because Dan Levy directed and stars in it, although it is reason enough! But I know I'll have to pick a day when I'm comfortable and peaceful enough, because this trailer makes me incredibly emotional already (and it is a testament of my trust in Dan that I even watched the trailer; I don't watch these anymore if I really want to see the film because they give so much away nowadays!) Anyways, even though I've not watched it yet, I shall, and I'm so proud of Dan all the same!

#Good Grief #Dan Levy #Luke Evans #Ruth Negga #Himesh Patel #Daniel Levy #Favorite Torontonian #Favorite Ontarian #Favorite Canadian #Favorite Human #Film #Film Trailer #Movie #Movie Trailer #Netflix #Canada Chronicles #Youtube

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dani-dabbles · 1 year

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Coming back to my tumblr account after neglecting it so long

#tumblr #twitter #Twitter Armageddon #twitter collapse #tumblr return #writers on tumblr #wingardium levi-queue-sa #the shadowhunter chronicles #shadowhunters #shadowhunters fic

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stasy-im-bad-at-nicknames · 1 year

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I wasn't tagged by anyone, but I want to share my detectives picrews too.

So here are they

Levi Langford: he/him, romancing Adam (my condolences, man, and I'm sorry)

Richard "Dick" Watson: he/him, romancing and surprisingly for himself fell in love with Mason (poor Dick is confused as much as Mason about his feelings)

Ilene Lawson: she/her, romancing Nate. Very stoic through all this

Heather O'Neal: she/her, romancing Felix. The only one from the bunch who's genuinely happy and has a relationship without any "buts"

I love them so, so much, and have too many information about them in my head that I just can't show anyone. If someone is interested, I have some info and templates about them, just go through the tags

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven detective #picrew #wayhaven oc #wayhaven oc: levi langford #wayhaven oc: richard “dick” watson #wayhaven oc: ilene lawson #wayhaven oc: heather o'neal

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howl-at--the-sun · 1 year

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I noticed that this piece that I did looked quite a bit like my favorite pathetic bastard man/pos, so uh

*waves* hello kkc fandom!

#kkc #the kingkiller chronicle #kvothe #levis speaks #levis draws

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bornonthebob · 1 year

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Not even sure what the situation is with the Red vs. Blue fandom on here nowadays (my last time as an active part of that was in 2016) but I figure if there’s anyone around, they’ll dig this thing I made:

A 46-minute celebration of the music of Red vs. Blue, in the form of a mega-compilation of clips from seasons 1-13—set to a massive medley of themes, leitmotifs, and other musical cues.

There is also a VFX breakdown video for the original portions, if you wanted to feel insane for eight uninterrupted minutes with how much unnecessary work I did.

There are currently two CC options—regular English captions for subtitles and lyrics, and “music citation” captions, in case there was a song you don’t recognize and felt like hunting down. I hope that’s helpful.

Enjoy!

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fallenrazziel · 1 year

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Les Chroniques de Livaï #553 ~ L'INSOUCIANCE NE S'IMPROVISE PAS (septembre 846) Hanji Zoe

J'en ai déjà ligoté quatre ! Ca marche très bien tout ça ! Bon, d'accord, je m'emballe un peu, ça ne marche pas si bien que ça dans les faits. Les câbles ne sont pas encore assez solides et les machines sont trop lourdes à manoeuvrer. Mais si on les fabriquait plus légères, les titans les feraient voler en éclat ! C'est un vrai dilemme ! La visée est parfaite par contre, on a raté quasiment aucune cible. J'aimerais tellement faire des observations, des tests, des...

Oh non... en voilà un qui va se libérer. Encore... C'est si rageant de voir ces spécimens vivants se carapater ! J'ai trop de choses à régler avec les captureuses, j'ai pas le temps de m'en approcher... Bon, le prochain, on fera connaissance !

Le titan se débat un peu dans les liens qui l'enserrent et finit par s'en débarrasser ; les filins sont intacts et peuvent être rembobinés pour un nouveau lancer, ils sont exceptionnels. Ils ont bien tenu quand même, j'ai compté une bonne demi-heure. Il se relève sur les genoux et cligne des yeux comme s'il se réveillait. Il a pas l'air menaçant, juste étonné. Mmh... Abel ! Vise-le, je veux le garder celui-là ! Encore un peu sur la gauche ! Vite, avant que Livaï le voit !

Evidemment, j'ai parlé trop tard... Un éclair aveuglant éblouit mes lunettes et ce gentil titan s'écroule au sol devant moi, sans que j'ai rien pu faire. Le nain vient se poser sur le cadavre fumant et me toise de toute sa petitesse. Mon sang ne fait qu'un tour. T'es fier de toi, pas vrai !? Je voulais le garder celui-là, il avait l'air docile ! Tu peux pas t'en empêcher, hein !?

Il bougonne comme à son habitude en frottant sa lame avec sa cape. Le corps s'évapore enfin et il revient tourner autour de moi. Ca suffit, tu m’gênes, là ! Y a aucun danger, on s'occupe de ces titans ! Je peux pas travailler si tu déglingues tous les bons spécimens qui se pointent ! Erwin t'a ordonné de m'aider, pas de m'embêter !

Il rétorque que tout ce qui va m'arriver, c'est de me faire bouffer le nez par un de ces monstres. Ca te plairait, hein ? Il répond qu'il s'en fiche mais qu'il voudrait que j'épargne la vie de mes subordonnés. Ben voyons ! Erwin sera très mécontent de toi quand je lui dirais que tu m'as empêchée de travailler ! Il nous regarde là-bas, tu sais ? Il voit comme tu te comportes maaaaal !

Le nain renifle, comme si mon coup bas semblait l'atteindre. Ok, on va faire un marché. Tu vas m'amener le plus beau titan du coin, me laisser l'examiner, et je lui dirais rien ! Attention, je veux pas voir tes lames effleurer un seul de ses cheveux ! Allez, sois docile et obéis un peu ! Sinon, va voler ailleurs, oiseau de malheur !

Il semble s'incliner cette fois, et décolle en douceur pour passer derrière moi. Je le suis des yeux, scrutant ses pirouettes inutiles dans les airs entre les arbres. Erwin lui a si souvent dit d'arrêter de se la jouer, il use son gaz pour rien... Bah, si un titan s'avisait d'avaler cette demi-portion indigeste, il serait foutu de s'étouffer avec...

Oooh, c'est si dommage, pour ce titan... Allez, Livaï, apporte-m'en un avec de beaux yeux, et un joli sourire !

Tandis que je me morfonds à attendre une prise, Moblit et Nifa ramènent les câbles dans la machine afin de la préparer pour une nouvelle capture. Aucun d'entre eux n'a peur, ils me font confiance. Ils comprennent l'importance de cette mission. Je ne suis pas dupe, je sais bien qu'Erwin avait plus d'une idée en m'autorisant cette sortie, mais je compte bien lui en donner pour son argent !

J'entends un doux chuintement dans les branches et les deux nouvelles recrues du grincheux se posent près de moi. Ils reviennent de leur inspection au nord. Ah, c'est vous. Je vous en veux pas pour celui que vous avez tué tout à l'heure, il était vraiment menaçant ; mais celui-là, il avait l'air gentil... C'est sans doute pour ça qu'il l'a massacré, ce rat ! Euh... Hum ! Oubliez ça ! Puisque que votre chef est parti, pourquoi ne pas rester pour m'assister dans mes recherches un petit moment ? Je vais en capturer un autre et je compte bien l'observer dans le détail ! Moblit, tu peux préparer ton carnet de croquis !

Bernon s'assoit en tailleur, l'air vraiment intéressé, mais Krys reste sur le qui-vive. Relax, tout se passe bien, les équipes font leur travail comme il se doit ! Oh, vous entendez ? Je crois que le prochain arrive ! Livaï a du en dénicher un ! J'espère qu'il est pas trop gros !

Un petit bonhomme débouche dans notre clairière, l'air perdu ; le bruit du gaz de Livaï résonne dans la pénombre mais je ne parviens pas à le voir. Il l'a attiré ici et maintenant il cherche à le désorienter. Il est fort, ce petit c... Le titan tourne la tête dans tous les sens, fait quelques pas en avant, les mains tendues... Oh, il est beau ! Et presque à portée ! Nifa, tiens-toi prête ! Quand il passe dans le viseur...

Elle se cale derrière la machine, tend le bras, prête à l'abaisser au moment opportun. Moblit, juste à côté, se prépare à actionner la manette... Encore un peu... Juste quelques mètres... Le titan s'immobilise, cherchant toujours Livaï des yeux. La main de Nifa bouge, s'abaisse, les câbles sifflent dans l'air... viennent se ficher dans le corps tout mou de la cible. Le titan sursaute, tourne sur ses pieds, secoue la tête, essaie de courir, mais ses mouvements l'entravent davantage dans les fils d'acier. Il se retrouve bien vite saucissonné et tombe par terre avec un petit pof comique ! Ouuuii ! Parfait, Livaï ! Il a la taille idéale, un peu plus de cinq mètres !

Mais tandis que je me réjouis de notre succès, les failles de ce système me sautent de nouveau aux yeux. C'est efficace pour étudier sur place, mais je ne peux emmener le titan nulle part. Si nous coupons les câbles, ceux-ci perdront leur tension et le titan se libèrera instantanément. Mais tant qu'ils restent accrochés à la machine, impossible de nous déplacer avec notre prise ! Même si j'avais un moyen de le transporter, ce serait un vrai casse-tête. Et encore me faut-il trouver ce moyen ! Les titans ne sont pas aussi lourds que le laissent présager leur taille, les tirer avec des chevaux serait envisageable... Dans des grands chariots peut-être... A condition qu'ils se tiennent tranquilles ! C'est beaucoup trop hasardeux et dangereux, Erwin acceptera jamais !

Sofie va devoir se creuser la tête pour me trouver un système qui projette cette nasse de câbles à distance, pour que je puisse déplacer mes prises. Un genre de filet peut-être... C'est embêtant, car ça demandera de reprendre de zéro. Elle finira par m'envoyer balader si je lui en demande trop... C'est rageant de ne pas y avoir pensé avant le test sur le terrain !

Enfin, tout n'est pas perdu. Cette version peut être utile à d'autres fins, je pense...

Un doigt timide tapote mon épaule. Le visage doux de Bernon se tend vers moi et m'indique du menton le titan étrangement calme qui attend quelques mètres en bas. Tu as raison, je vais aller faire connaissance avec notre ami ! Je saute à terre, puis sautille vers le titan capturé qui garde ses yeux fixés sur moi. Ooh, ils sont beaux, tes yeux ! Comme je les voulais ! Tes globes oculaires sont aussi gros que ma tête, on dirait ! Et ces cils ! Regarde, Moblit, ils sont aussi longs que mon doigt !

Il se précipite à mes côtés pour tenter de me retenir. Tu ne vas pas t'y mettre aussi ! Mais enfin, il est inoffensif ! Il a l'air fasciné par nous... Je lève les yeux, et aperçois Livaï, assis sur une branche, les lames au clair, une jambe pendant nonchalamment dans le vide. Il attend l'occasion d'intervenir... Pas un geste, toi ! Il est à moi, tu me l'as offert ! Donc je vais lui parler un peu. Si ça t'ennuie, tu peux partir. Je suis sûre que le reste de ton escouade a besoin de toi quelque part.

Il lève le pouce et indique une direction juste derrière son épaule. Krys semble prêt à décoller mais Bernon soupire... Ils veulent rester là, on dirait. Evidemment, ce que je fais est fa-sci-nant ! Bon, mieux vaut ne pas discuter avec lui, obéissez. Vous trouverez une autre occasion d'observer les titans de près. Les deux frères s'éloignent vers le nord à contrecoeur tandis que Livaï prend la direction du sud, et tous finissent par disparaître de ma vue.

Enfin seuls, mon bébé ! Allez, montre-moi ton nez ! Et tes dents ! Est-ce que je peux prélever une dent ? Oh, et attend, je veux essayer de prendre des cheveux ! Ca va, tu n'es pas trop mal installé ? Ses paupières clignent sur ses grands yeux humides. Dis, tu comprends ce que je dis ? Allez, ouvre la bouche, tire la langue ! Des échantillons de salive, oui ! Moblit, va me chercher des fioles dans nos sacs !

Il proteste que je suis beaucoup trop près, qu'il ne va faire qu'une bouchée de moi. Mais non, il est bien tranquille ! Il va se prêter au jeu, pas vrai ? Un claquement sonore vibre à côté de mon visage et le souffle chaud du titan me renverse presque en arrière. Keiji dégaine ses lames et je dois l'arrêter avant qu'il ne commette l'irréparable ! Noon ! Stop, il m'a rien fait, il a juste claqué la mâchoire ! C'est peut-être une façon de... dire qu'il m'aime bien ! Moblit sue de peur et Nifa tremble sur pieds. D'accord, vous êtes pas si rassurés que ça, en fait... Moblit, arrête de transpirer et dessine-le ! Je vais prélever des tissus dont j'espère qu'ils vont tenir le voyage.

Calme-toi, mon beau, doucement... Je vois, je suis la seule qui te veut pas de mal ici. Pourquoi personne ne veut essayer de comprendre ce que je fais !? Je vais te chatouiller un peu, tu devrais dormir en attendant. Dormir... oui, c'est une bonne idée... Les endormir ! Comme des patients qu'on opère ! Mais il faut plus que du chloroforme... Mais oui, cette plante, dont j'ai tiré le narcotique si puissant ! Elle poussait dans les terres inconnues, mais il n'y a aucune raison que je ne puisse pas en trouver dans les Murs ! Je n'ai jamais vraiment cherché... Je me souviens de leur forme et du type de terrain sur lequel elles poussent, je pourrais les reconnaître. Oui, ce serait la solution, je pourrais mener mes recherches tranquillement, en amenant les titans endormis dans un avant-poste peut-être ! En attendant de pouvoir les amener derrière Rose... Ne rêve pas, Hanji, les parlementaires voudront jamais... Ces crétins sans imagination...

Moblit me présente une éprouvette que je place sous la bouche de notre ami afin de récupérer de la bave bien épaisse. Son autre main, serrée sur mon épaule, prête à me tirer en arrière, reste réconfortante malgré l'excitation que je ressens...

#lc553 #hange zoe #levi chronicles #les chroniques de Livaï #fanfiction #fallenRaziel #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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koulakoukoula2003 · 2 years

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📍Tesco Express, Somewhere Downtown

Furious and shamefully haunted by flashbacks about Erwin’s visit, Koula made her way down the high street to Tescos for a craving fix. Bundled in her hoodie, a face mask, a dark pair of shades and some beat up chucks, you could see from a mile away that the hacking babe was on edge. Too vexed at herself she didn’t even realise she had bumped into a little kid who yelped an “ow!”. Nor did she notice the kids guardian trailing behind him.

Koula was in her head. Music blasting in her headphones as she haphazardly snatched a shopping basket from its pile and headed straight for the sweets aisle. She imagine all the ways she could rip out Erwin’s throat for spiting her and destroying her equipment. How delightful it would be to see the light leave his eyes, how satisfying it would be to have such power, put a privileged prick in his place. For some twisted reason the idea of hurting him aroused her. The thought of getting him back sent chills down her spine.

“Shit.” Koula cursed herself. It was crass to think like this. Fuck him and fuck his money to high heaven!

Koula felt a tug on her sleeve and the speed at which she turned her head to face the source of the tug was enough to file for whiplash at an insurance company.

“What?” The question came out harsher than intended from Koula. Her her heart softened when she saw the little kid looking doe eyed up at her. She quickly paused her music and put the head phones around her neck.

“You pushed me and it hurt ma’am.” The boy said conviction. Frizzy haired, dark eyed, brown skinned boy in the cutest pair of denim dungarees and a minions shirt underneath. He wore the same coloured chucks as the hacker but still brand new . The boy must of be no older than 6, 7 at best, but he was adorable. He a sunflower lanyard with his name scribbled in the middle “Rafael.”

Koula crouched down and “Look kid I’m sorry. My bad. I’m just in a bad mood okay?”

“Uncle Levi said even if we are in a bad mood it rubs of on everyone. He said that we need to take a deep breath, count to 10, have something to eat and drink some tea.”

“Uncle? Levi?” The name sank her stomach. Where did she know that name from. It was ridiculous there’s loads of people named Levi.

“Yeah!” Rafael exclaimed. “He’s so cool and smart and nice...”

Koula zoned out as the kid went on a tangent gushing over his uncle Levi.

“Uncle Levi says even if we are mad at ourselves we don’t have to make it everyone’s problem it’s okay to be upset but don’t take it out of people that never upset you.”

“Rafa. Come on kid, it’s time to go it’s late, your mum’s going to be worried sick. She’s already called twice.” A voice punctuated the boy’s wise words.

That voice? Shit! Koula felt her stomach sink.

As Rafael rambled, Koula’s memories bum rushed her. Levi Ackerman; The Cleaner. The man that had so many clean up jobs that not only could he fill Kensal Green Cemetary but he could be sponsored by Johnson and Johnson was inventing bleach strong enough to lift 12 pints of blood out of white sheep skin carpet. This man was a legend a ghost almost. No digital footprint nothing, only extensions of his sister, Isabel who would post candids of him on her Instagram page. The information overload sent Koula’s ears ringing.

“Rafael, don’t you hear me calling you kid?” Levi came jogging down the aisle crouching down and tickling the kid. He finally looked up and apologised with a gentle, short lived smile on his face.

“Excuse me miss,” Levi started apologetically “he only 6…”

“SIX AND THREE QAUTERS” Rafael bellowed throwing his palm over his uncles mouth.

“And old enough not to talk to strangers.” The black haired man tickled the child hard forcing giggles out him.

Koula hurt ached. She felt conflicted. What she knew about this man compared to the reality before her was… perplexing.

“She’s not a stranger!” Rafael heaved between giggles. “We have the same shoes, see! Red! RED!”

Levi looked and took in Koula’s outfit out of habit. Always the observant one. “Yes, red. Your favourite colour right kid?” Levi affirmed to which Rafael nodded as he threw his arm around his crouched uncles neck.

Instinctively, the Koula recoiled into herself a little as if to hide away from him. The contents of her shopping basket seeming more pathetic and childish that usual. A £3 meal deal with a Pepsi and a plethora of sweets. Pig sweets, shoelaces, Harribo super mix tub, biscuits. Binge worthy stuff.

Levi chuckled innocently after catching a glimpse of the swaying basket in Koula’s hand. “Bad mood?” He asked genuinely.

Koula puffed out a nervous laugh never really answering him. Mind to occupied with the walking, talking contradiction before her.

‘Shit shit shit. Get out tf of here.’ Koula mused desperately to herself, forcing a grin beneath her face mask. She simply nodded and wiped at her forehead with the back of her sleeve.

Levi looked good. Good was an understatement but the only English word she could muster up. Shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, watch with a childrens fun strap on. A gift from his kids for before summer holidays. “Best Teacher!” scribbles and a collage of kids art work printed down into accessory he never goes a day without. Top buttons of shirt on undone, dainty St Christopher necklace around his neck, catching the light.

“Looks like what Rafael would pick when he’s in a bad mood. That or my sister when shes in a state.” His voice cut through Koula’s reverie like hot knife through butter. He stood up with a soft knowing smile graced his face as he mindlessly ruffled Rafael’s hair before pulling a silk scrunchy hue out of his backpocket and putting it in a bun. Careful to catch the frizzy edges of the little boy. Trying his best to mimic the way his mother did it this morning before dropping him off at his.

Rafael fussed a little at this. But the whole scene was gut wrenching for Koula. Someone with such a past so caring and loving to others, especially children. It couldn’t be possible.

“Your mum would lose it when she finds out you were running around the high street with your hair out, kid. You’ve already lost 4 scrunches this week. Next week,she’s going to put you in braids for sure.”

Rafael stuck his fingers in his ears and sang off key to block.

“Enjoy your evening. Come on kid!” Levi picked up Rafael ease and placed him on his shoulders, child still La-La-ing away. He wasn’t one for small talk and he had no intention of apologising for ‘Little Rafa’ for being the curious wonder he was, so that was the best he could do.

But Koula couldn’t take her eyes of the infamous Levi Ackerman who no longer had dark circles under his eyes. Who looked healthy and happy. Who’s aura was brights and warm as opposed to dark and ominous one she expected.

It wasn’t the same man that she knew. Studied.

No.

This had to be a doppelgänger. This wasn’t Pavlov’s Dog? The Cleaner? The same man that knew how to pickle and decompose evidence at will and who was albeit even more handsome in person. An Uncle? Wholesome one a that?

What happened to him? Has he truly been redeemed?

Former Assassin!Levi Ackerman x Former Hacker!OC

"Fuck!" She kicked the pavement in frustration.

People don't just get redeemed just like that. It was hard to escape the underworld and most people who tried, either winded up being dragged back in, or killed. This man knew things. He had worked for some pretty terrible people and he had killed more than she could count.

"Everything alright, lassie?"

The gruff voice of an old man came and she had no idea who that was until she looked down. A worn-out old man was sitting on the sidewalk right beside the entrance of Tesco, in hopes of some customer bringing him something to eat.

Her frustration ran out right away.

She knelt right in front of him, coming nearby his height and she rested a hand on her bent knee. Koula pulled away her glasses and her mask, finally revealing her face. All those homeless people reminded her of herself. There was a time when she went through that same misery. Sure, she was way younger than this old man when she roamed around the streets rootlessly.

She pulled out that sandwich and that bottle of water and she handed them to him. "I'll pass by tomorrow again." She gave him a smile and there was no saying how many times he thanked her.

When she looked at privileged bastards like Erwin that went around with tons and tons of money, tossing them aside like they meant nothing, while they could have meant everything to homeless people like this old man. It made her stomach churn. It made her want to set their world on fire and watch it burn.

She turned to leave. She had parked her car in a narrow street nearby but maybe it was a bad idea to go out at this hour. She shrugged it off though. She had definitely been through worse.

She was approaching her car, taking out her keys, a pitch black Chevrolet Camaro - a gift from an infamous Chinese crime lord after she wiped every record of him in existence off the face of the web around seven years back.

Only hackers could exist in both the underworld and in real life. Maybe she was no better than Erwin. Once upon a time, she worked for the client that paid best. She kept a blind eye when it came to their morality, whether that was drug trafficking, human trafficking, all kinds of twisted porn industry, and most importantly, weapons trafficking.

She had worked for all kinds of people.

She frowned. Money makes beasts out of people.

"You recognised me."

She let out a yelp at the familiar voice and her car keys crashed on the dirty sidewalk. It was so late in the night, and that little street was way too narrow. The lights were scarce and she could barely make out his face.

It was him. Her eyes widened and she immediately picked the keys back up to open her car, get in, and ride away as fast as possible. Levi Ackerman got his life back in the only way he knew how to do best. Killing the people who knew The Cleaner and maybe her time had come as well. She was a threat to his peace. She wouldn't be surprised if he killed her right this very instant.

She should have seen this coming. He wasn't just a dog. Levi Ackerman was a smart man. One of the smartest. He could read people. He could smell the fear emitting from his prey.

Before she knew it, she was slammed against the brick wall of a building. Strong arms pressed on the wall around her, keeping her trapped in a little makeshift cage. He just wanted to get a better look at her. Silver eyes, unreadable but dangerous. She didn't know whether he was threatening her or warning her, or just looking at her face.

"You're KT, aren't you?"

Her eyes widened at the nickname. Nobody had called her that in such a long time. All hackers had their own nicknames when they worked with clients. Giving your real name was downright suicidal.

"I- I've no idea what- we've never met before-"

"No. But we've worked for the same people." He stated as a matter of factly. She smelled peppermint in his breath that fanned warm down her face while he kept her trapped right there. God, he was so hot upclose-

What the fuck are you thinking about, he's going to kill you, you fucking dumb-

She had to keep it together. Maybe there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise. "I never worked for Pavlov," there was such hatred when she uttered that man's name.

"But you've worked for his biggest rivals." Levi pointed out and she bit the inside of her cheek. "Men I'd been tasked with killing so, so many times, but tracking them was so very impossible when some brat like you was always there to erase their footprints."

She sighed and looked at him in the eye. She certainly had made his life a living hell back in her glory days as a hacker. "Are you going to kill me?"

"So long as you don't promise to keep your pretty mouth shut."

He stared at her for a bit longer. Silver eyes bore into her own and she was certain for a moment that he was indeed going to kill her. Maybe she'd never make it back to the refuge tonight.

But he released her and her eyes widened in surprise.

"I saw you helping that old man." He turned to leave. Like him, she had also stopped participating in this madness of illegality, corruption and immorality. He had to get back. Rafael was waiting for him in the car. "We're not monsters, KT." He gave her one last look, tucking his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket. "We're just people who have walked through hell and managed to come out of it alive."

tagging: @nathalunalune @slavanimesimp @dassmyname @nighttimescribbles @tonaken @killerbananas <- im adding u too to the squad uwu @soaringmirror @ushiwhacka

sorry no photoshopped stuff today, this bitch is tired AHAHAHA ALSO IT'S UNEDITED

#LMAO IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO TURN THAT BIG #it wasn't supposed to turn into a fic either #AHAHAHAHAH #can't help it #when i see a good plot i just gotta write ya know #kabal multiverse of madness #the kabalians #kabal #kabalian lore #kabal chronicles #levi ackerman x oc #levi ackerman #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot #aot fanfiction #aot fic #aot imagines

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