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levmada · 4 months

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PLEASE write about Levi’s mental state, i’m begging you

He’s faced death and precarious situations since he was born, yet he’s still standing strong and hopeful, WHAT THE HELL I LOVE MY SHORT KING

IT'S FINALLY HERE😭im sorry anon i hope you're around to see this and if u are i hope i dont disappoint

the tone in this analysis is so weird because i kept getting caught between 'this is an apa paper no contractions, academic language, double spacing -' and 'this is a tumblr post about a fictional blorbo wtf r u on'

i also use some scientific language i try my best to explain but if this turns anyone off i don't blame them because im unhealthily obsessed

*i'm a third-year undergraduate psychology student w/ a concentration in psychopathology

tw/cw: discussion of childhood exposure to sex (not assault)

Foreword

I’ve been putting this off for a while (I’m forgetful and this topic is intimidating what can I say), but being a year out from graduating with my bachelor’s to become a mental health professional, and being a Levi scholar(/hj), I wanted to give this a shot.

I wanted to dissect and examine Levi Ackerman’s mental health “currently” (as in general canon), and explain as thoroughly but as simply as possible how and why he thinks and acts the way he does.

Seeing how AOT is pretty renowned for leaving out the ‘insignificant’ details, especially character details, a good majority of my assertions and even details of his life are built off of correlations and “signs and symptoms”; meaning some things could be an aspect of Levi’s personality, or a symptom of psychopathology.

I will examine his childhood (especially his childhood), adolescence, young adulthood, and “present” adulthood, with a short summary at the end of where he might be mentally after the war.

*Lastly, I don’t like it when things I say about a series or character are taken as fact or make it implied that someone else’s thoughts are “wrong”. This is partly built on headcanons anyway, which are influenced by my own experiences. Don’t take away from this that this is me telling you what to think.*

Childhood

The most important period of development occurs in infancy and childhood, especially from the ages of 3-6. This is when a child learns where to find security, love, and basic skills, gaining stability as they develop.

Well, Kuchel died when Levi was 4.

Maternal Love / Learning Empathy / Anxious Attachment Style

Levi was born into deep poverty within a violent unwelcoming environment. Basic physical needs must have been very hard to meet (i.e., consistently fed enough, a clean environment, no physical threats). And where Levi was born is like the dictionary definition of a bad environment for a small child, excluding only his mother’s care and love.

As it’s generally understood in canon (and suggested from Levi’s special backstory manga so far) she was a caring parental figure early in Levi’s life that loved him unconditionally. We can conclude that Kuchel did everything within her power to compensate for both parenting Levi alone and shielding him the best she could from his horrible surroundings, teaching the kindness, goodness, and love that Levi would internalize and go on to strive for for his entire life.

As far as we know, no other children lived in the brothel. Socialization is just as important for a young child as receiving love. With this isolation, it’s extremely difficult to learn how to connect to other people, or pick up on social cues. Levi would’ve never learned how to interact properly with his peers—aside from use of aggression and violence which Kenny would go on to instill in him.

With the danger/anxiety imposed by strangers, mostly if not entirely men, he would turn to his mother for comfort all. The. Time.

And she would give him that support and affection of course. This early motherly affection is integral to child development: a child who receives empathy and affection is subliminally taught how to feel and express empathy towards others.

While Levi’s surroundings were dangerous, lonely, and chaotic—traumatizing enough for a toddler or young child—Kuchel provided a safety net from that, so I think that Levi developed an anxious attachment as a child: exhibiting clinginess, excessive fear of abandonment, and an excessive need for security and/or reassurance.

Paternal Trauma / Potential Androphobia

Born and living in a brothel, we can assume that Levi was probably seen as a burden and a mistake by others, especially by men (both the likely majority of her customers and her boss).

AOT ch69; Before the Fall, ch34

This is likely in contrast to the women (those living and working in the brothel like Kuchel). They should know Kuchel if not as friends, then acquaintances who could empathize for her and her son.

There’s an obvious trend here. If Levi is going to feel fear/danger/anxiety because of men, he should have a general aversion to men and-or the behavior of men who he encountered as a child. This is impossible to know for sure or in meaningful detail, but it seemed to be resolved by the time he became an adult if so.

Although Kenny in his words was no more than Levi's teacher, Levi did see him as a father figure.

The subject of Kenny will be expanded on later, but it's clear Kenny in no way resembled a father, who also would go on to abandon Levi (at the age of 11 or so). Children without father figures tend to struggle more emotionally, psychologically, and socially. Specifically, (especially boys) tend to exhibit intimidating/aggressive personas to compensate for resentment, fear, and unhappiness.

Sexual Trauma (Tangent, Probably)

This is unconfirmed but a likely trauma Levi went through: exposure to sex as a child. There’s no way to confirm what he experienced, so I’ll function on ‘probably’s’ and ‘most likely’s’.

Because Levi and Kuchel only lived in one room, other rooms in the brothel should have belonged to other women, and he was at the oldest four, I wager that he was babysat by women who Kuchel knew and/or was made to hide somewhere while she worked, such as in a cabinet.

(for reference)

AOT ch69

The odds are high that he was exposed to the aftermath of sexual violence (i.e., marks seen on his mother), and the sound or smells that have to do with it. That young, he wouldn’t know what it was, but he should have realized later as an adolescent.

In general, children regardless of gender exposed to sexual content usually experience early puberty (which is just as likely for impoverished children, or children who experience chronic high-stress in general); issues with intimacy; become desensitized to high-risk behavior; negative/inaccurate expectations about sex and relationships in the future; influence inappropriate behavior with other children or adults; sex addiction.

This is especially relevant to Levi’s fear of closeness/intimacy in the future. Exposure to sexual situations—possibly not including CSA in his case—very early in life inflicts on a child emotions and stress they don’t have the intellect or reasoning to process or understand. An extreme aversion to interpersonal relationships, especially physical ones, results.

This stress Levi must have felt, being powerless to this happening to his mother, is a different beast. Children aren’t capable of handling high levels of stress, and so the brain will automatically create coping mechanisms: dissociation (a severe form of “zoning out”; observing the self “from the third person”; numbness; the feeling of living in a dream), excessive daydreaming/overactive imagination, symptoms of PTSD (nightmares and terrors; flashbacks; spontaneous activation of fight-flight-freeze associated with anxiety; excessive worrying/fear; loneliness/self isolation). PTSD will also be prevalent in Levi’s later life, which I’ll delve into later.

Inappropriate behavior and sex addiction are also highlights for me because they shouldn’t exist in him based on Levi's personality and behavior throughout the series. In my opinion, Levi ought to associate sex with pain, shame, and violence; he does see it as an ordinary job—a means to an end. He should be desensitized to sex as a concept, but associates it personally with shame, sadness, and pain, possibly feeling disgust towards it. So it is highly likely that Levi in every stage of life following this experienced sexual repulsion (usually associated with high anxiety towards sex), a low libido, or a lack of sexual desire entirely.

From a trauma perspective, he could avoid sexual topics of conversation, sexual settings (i.e., brothels), or an array of things which are sexually suggestive or he as a child possibly associated with sex (i.e., cleavage, panties, specific touch). Similarly, he might avoid direct reminders or have a post-traumatic reaction to them, such as anxiety or flashbacks (i.e., the sound of a bed creaking, the sight of wet clothes).

Importantly, it can be concluded that sexual violence was often exhibited, and the idea would be ingrained in him that sex, like everything else besides his relationship with his mother, is “give-and-take”, “victim-and-attacker”, and learn to be repulsed by intimacy. This impacts his willingness for later friendships and relationships as we’ll see later.

Early Abandonment & Early Exposure to Death

As Kuchel’s health deteriorated, Levi’s sense of security would break down. Availability of shelter, food, and emotional support would be even less secure than before. He might have been providing for Kuchel for some time, even, as it can be gathered that he received little to no help from those around him while she was sick. To whatever length he had to take responsibility and both fear for Kuchel, this would cement a sense of responsibility and guilt in him from the age of just four years old.

He will fail to save her—regardless of the fact that that’s not his responsibility in the first place; a child wouldn’t understand that—and then lose her with nothing he could do to even cushion the blow.

How powerless he must’ve felt. How hopeless. How likely is it that Levi found comfort in joining her? A child his age wouldn’t be able to comprehend death, basing our understanding on Piaget’s theory of cognitive development. To summarize, at the age of six or seven, children aren’t capable of complex, abstract thought like death or the finality of it. But Levi had to learn early.

AOT ch69

This will be center in his “clean-freak” tendencies later.

Adolescence

Most of this section is going to be rather vague again, but we already got the bulk of that over with in childhood!

Emotional Train Wreck / Lack of Identity

It’s hard to notice if you’re not paying attention, but in every scene we’re shown with Levi after his mother dies but before Kenny leaves, he’s wearing some variation of his mother’s one dress styled into a shirt. He loves her endlessly, even or especially in death. And part of cherishing her memory, to him, should’ve been taking after her as much as he could.

That’s how to explain why he didn’t become a cruel person (Kenny for instance) as he grew into a teenager, even though much of Levi’s outlook and behaviors come from him (ch57).

The more pertinent question is how extreme violence, reinforcement of the idea that that violence is power, and Kenny’s total (or most likely total) lack of communicated emotional connection affected him.

Levi would still desperately want that connection deep down, especially with his mother gone. This is a major reason why Levi sought to get stronger to please Kenny. For chronically abandoned people, that continues into adulthood and even beyond. A hole inside which can't be filled.

AOT ch69

Chronic loneliness—like I explained before—basically explains his aloof nature and awkward disposition. It’s not that Levi feels as detached as he looks, but he doesn’t know how to express himself or open up. He wouldn’t learn how to process his emotions, let alone talk about them. He’s basically emotionally stunted and immature in impersonal relationships (between friends and especially in regards to intimacy).

The Underground’s environment also makes him socially awkward, rude, of course stoic/not very expressive, and blunt. Levi was forced to become extremely observant of people to suss out their intentions, remaining vigilant of his surroundings at all times.

Levi doesn’t even get affection in any sense anymore. He doesn’t get a hug or a pat on the back, and he certainly doesn’t get a shoulder to cry on.

If anything, Kenny would punish him for showing weakness. Vulnerability is weakness; weakness is death.

What results is a continuous and boundless sense of emptiness inside that can’t be filled. He’s plagued by a chronic sense of unbelonging and loneliness. There’s no time or opportunity to develop “normally” as an adolescent. Socialization is limited at best; thinking of his place in the world is irrelevant when his one and only most pressing goal is survival; he doesn’t get to explore hobbies or interests.

OCD Propensity

One “interest” Levi is passionate about is cleaning, at least. Disease is what caused his mother to die. The easiest cause to point to would be their disgusting surroundings (although, Kuchel was infected by a customer). It is canon that Levi’s love of cleaning comes from "his personal experiences". In that interview, Levi first specifically references the important of fighting disease.

In other words, his "clean freak" nature comes, primarily, from the death of his mother: Filth -> disease -> death, and abandonment by extension.

His mother would’ve encouraged him to keep their room clean. There were times he or she had to have come down with something and dirtiness was the cause. On top of Kenny’s enforcement to keep up “clean” appearances to garner respect from everyone else in the Underground.

This in particular is extremely relevant to his mental health. When someone feels out of control of what is happening to them, especially in a recurring way, and especially as a child who doesn't yet know how to feel stable in an unstable environment, they look for something to control. It can be weight, bodily functions (blinking, breathing, etc), dominance over others, or cleaning, for instance.

Fear of disease, the urgent need to have control, and the basic need for stability makes it obvious that Levi would become obsessed with cleaning. And moreover, developing OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). I’ll go deeper into this diagnosis later.

Lack of Self Worth

Despite the acknowledgment throughout canon that he trusts in his own strength, it wasn’t always that way.

Canonically, Levi sought praise from Kenny by showing his strength because that was the only thing he received praise for. The conclusion Levi came to once Kenny left him was that he wasn’t strong enough (wasn’t good enough) to warrant staying with him.

In conjunction, Levi’s first conclusion was that he did something wrong, not that Kenny possibly had some obligation that forced him to leave the Underground, pointing again to his own lack of self-worth.

This scenario created a complex in him, the very root cause of Levi’s pain, the very foundation of what Levi would go on to prioritize in adulthood. If he isn’t useful to those he wants not to abandon him, he’s worthless. He’s only useful when he shows his strength. Every other aspect of him like his interests is either irrelevant or bland by default in his eyes.

He would go on to make it his mission to try his best to be good enough in order to save and protect the lives of others, but foremost those he cares about.

Young Adulthood

Our first exposure to Levi as an adult is in A Choice with No Regrets, his OVA/backstory.

(By the way, I’ll be basing this analysis off a mix of the manga and the OVA.)

Emotional Immaturity/Affective Dysregulation

Generally, Levi’s defining negative character trait as a young adult is his emotional immaturity/anti-social behavior. Yes he’s grumpy and rude which is always indicative of him, but he’s very quick to anger, too. He cursed at the Squad Leader who offended him (by assuming that because he, Isabel, and Farlan are from the Underground, they’d be dirty), and argued furiously with Farlan that he would kill Erwin—not because it was required for the job, but because he disrespected him—for a few examples.

ACWNR ch2

He tended to be arrogant, too. Such as when he ultimately called a Scout who had experience with the Titans stupid for telling Levi to hold his swords in a certain way. He spoke to every officer the same as he would anyone on the street, having a remarkable lack of basic respect for authority. He was insistent on distancing himself from the entire setting and structure of the Scouts as much as possible, both to not get attached, and he found their mission childish/foolish.

He’s rather selfish. There is nothing Levi cares about genuinely more than Isabel’s and Farlan’s lives and the job that will set them up with a good future. Farlan’s advice is the only one’s he takes and the only judgment outside himself that he considers, such as when Farlan asks him to not cause trouble with authority to keep a low profile, but even then he acts stubborn. Levi trusts nobody wholeheartedly except himself (until later in ACWNR).

There’s a cognitive dissonance in him. Growing up, and still as a young adult, Levi’s headspace is marked by fear and uncertainty, with his power as his source of confidence. The first time he kills a Titan (with Isabel and Farlan), he uses too much gas because he refuses to potentially risk his friends’ lives; when the expedition is upcoming, he abruptly tells Farlan and Isabel to find a reason to stay back, and that he’ll complete the dangerous part of the job on his own.

Levi is full of repressed fear and uncertainty. He hides and/or buries all of it for the sake of self-preservation both emotionally and physically.

Antisocial Personality…?

It’s extremely interesting how a character as selfless, heroic, and empathetic as Levi exhibits antisocial symptoms. I’d even argue that if his childhood was spent entirely without his mother figure, then he might be a dictionary definition of ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder).

People with this disorder live day-to-day under the constant assumption that whoever is around them is “out to get them”/searching for a weakness to exploit. Humanity is made up of only prey and predators; morals are completely subjective, perpetuated by the society that surrounds them. This constant need to defend oneself, the effect of the exact trauma the potential sociopath experienced, combined with a muted emotional spectrum, results in a complete disregard of everything, including people outside of themself. They might believe they’re entitled to comfort or admiration, but overall, they’re intensely self-serving, often aggressive, and ruthless.

Because Levi for instance learned to rely on violence both for “love” and survival, then he might fall on violence to manipulate a person or situation into serving himself. I see reason to believe that Levi could have grown into worse than Kenny’s image if it weren’t for his mother’s influence.

However, the greatest cause for deniability is Levi’s wide emotional spectrum (especially including empathy and shame), while a lack of shame is the most significant marker of ASPD . (It is arguably one of many testaments to his strength that a victim of so much suffering, violence, and cruelty could become a man as empathetic as him.)

However, these tendencies may still be relevant: A sense of arrogance—both to the way Levi thinks of some who he perceives as weak and live without good morals—lacking issue with using deceit or violence to attain a goal, and living outside the rule of authority.

I go into more detail about this idea here.

Conclusion

As is true in general, there’s very little to say of mental development once someone has reached their early–mid-twenties. What we know of Levi’s young adulthood does reinforce his fear of abandonment, but he finds a cause where his strength and compassion can be “put to good use” and give to him a life that is worth living.

Conclusion: the ‘Present’/Diagnoses Overview

C-PTSD (Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder)

Levi’s emotional dysregulation (i.e., inability to sit with and process negative emotions), his difficulties in relationships, insomnia, negative worldview, absent sense of self, and finally, his persistent sense of unworthiness/worthlessness are all indicative of C-PTSD. It’s distinct from PTSD in that he didn’t endure one short-term traumatizing event, but he grew up surrounded by trauma and saw it as normal (e.g., gang violence, extreme poverty, death of a parent, (more presumably) physically and emotionally abusive parental figure). Levi as a child developed no understanding of a nurturing, secure environment.

Negative/Absent Sense of Self

I’ve talked about this at length already, but it’s worth noting how Levi’s perception of himself must have changed when it was revealed that he is extremely strong physically not from his own efforts as much, but because he’s an Ackerman.

His self-confidence and self-worth have always been built on the foundation of his strength. He’s useful if he’s strong, so he’s worthy if he’s strong. Along with the extreme high pressure his goal to kill Zeke put on him in season four, he might have gone to extreme measures to compensate for his strength he might have felt was “unearned” (such as excessive exercise for example). This is an aside, but it was a blow to him for sure.

Emotional Dysregulation

The causes of emotional dysregulation generally which he experienced are as follows: early childhood trauma, feelings ignored, judged, or invalidated at a young age, and physical and emotional child neglect. Beyond his first four years of life with his mother, Levi experienced all these things (early exposure to sex and likely exposure to domestic violence aside).

It’s important to focus on emotional neglect specifically, when any and all perceived “weakness”, no matter how small, is unacceptable to Levi. He will never ask for help (being independent to a fault), he can’t define or process his emotions, and it doesn’t occur to him—and it could be a shock—when he learns that his friends care about him, not him insofar as how useful he is.

As an adult, Levi appears to be emotionally mature, but I argue that this isn’t the case. It’s more accurate to say that he has better control over his emotions (in that he buries them or ignores them) with a mature outlook because of all his experiences with suffering.

Similarly, he’s not outwardly emotional not because he’s antisocial (as related to ASPD, not introversion), but because he’s so “emotionally constipated” that he’s numbed the vast majority of the time.

Relationship Issues + Fear of Abandonment

Because of his fear of abandonment and impaired emotional intelligence in close relational conflict, he’s extremely passive and/or passive aggressive. In order to avoid potential abandonment, he doesn’t go out of his way to win major arguments—such as threatening to break Erwin’s legs if he didn’t stay away from the expedition in season three, but ultimately giving in. He’s also more likely to sneak petty insults into arguments, give “silent treatment”, slam doors, etc. His kindness and exceptional empathy shouldn’t let him be physically or overly violent.

These are likely additions to why Levi doesn’t foster many close relationships.

Fittingly, as a child I thought that Levi might have had an anxious attachment style (clingy, excessive need for security), but as this possibility for security was removed entirely, and he was taught to not rely on others, he would develop more of an overt avoidant attachment in adulthood in combination (fearful-avoidant): making very few emotional demands—even though he has needs—withdrawing when there’s conflict, acting aloof yet fearing abandonment, having difficulty expressing emotions he feels intensely, and fear of depending on someone else.

Anxiety

His cool-headedness even in the heat of battle/war (other factors like experience aside) is exactly what you would expect from someone diagnosed with C-PTSD; he’s accustomed to chronic high-stress. But small stressors (i.e., a change of plans) are overwhelming and make him quick to anger/excessive annoyance.

OCD

Emotional dysregulation is also closely associated with OCD.

OCD is much much more than being concerned with keeping clean or organized. OCD is an anxiety disorder composed of anxiety-related obsessions and compulsions, such as frequent and disturbing thoughts or images (intrusive thoughts). These attempt to be managed through rituals (i.e., handwashing, counting in patterns). Although symptoms will fluctuate with anxiety, OCD at its baseline is a distressing disorder.

Since he was young, Levi should have had an incessant need to be in control at all times. A shining example of this is his mother’s death, an incident he couldn’t control but included dirtiness/disease as a cause he could pinpoint, so this anxiety with dirtiness becomes a major obsession, and the compulsion is cleaning. (Putting aside the fact that Levi enjoys cleaning by itself too.)

It’s a widely-held belief that if Levi has OCD, it’s contamination OCD, as it specifically has to do with an obsession with dirtiness and a compulsion in cleaning (i.e., damaging handwashing, ritualized bathing that may take hours). However, based on the multitude of times Levi was covered in blood and remained unbothered by it (Titan and human), and in fact the obsession’s lack of relevance entirely during urgent missions/situations, contamination OCD is simply not plausible. Instead, it’s general OCD.

There’s no way to know for sure, but I don’t see his OCD as mild or severe. Levi is an extremely orderly and balanced person, so it can be concluded he must have things done a certain way, routinely, organizational, or planned; when the dirtiness is “negative” (i.e., Titan blood, blood on a knife he used to kill Isabel’s attackers), he is never more rigid with cleanliness; it’s probable he suffers intrusive thoughts (likely of the violent nature), a fear of contamination, and/or counting ritualistically, but the most obvious compulsion is cleaning. He might have sensory issues, such as disgust if he happens to brush shoulders with a stranger; aversion to particularly bright lights, irrational rage towards “mouth sounds” (i.e., chewing, coughing, swallowing), etc.

EDNOS (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified)

Levi should have a complicated relationship with food to say the least.

In the realm of eating disorders, EDNOS is sort of a catch-all term when an individual doesn’t qualify for the diagnostic criteria of anorexia or bulimia, and it encompasses lesser-known eating disorders like Pica. It’s the most common diagnosis for clinical eating disorders.

I already covered how integral the early years of life are, and beginning at a young age, if children aren’t given a basic need like food, and they must seek out food on their own, it becomes an anxiety deeply rooted in the brain regardless of how well-fed they are when they’re older. There will always be an urge to have food available. Levi’s years in the Underground were spent either actively starving, or going about every single day having acquiring food as top priority. He was a young adult when he left, so it’s impossible to unlearn this (without extensive therapy, which Levi doesn’t seek). It’s similar to compulsions found in OCD: even though he logically knows that there will be a dinner after lunch, it’s impossible to put aside this worry.

That may mean always having food stashed, eating too much—especially in his early years Aboveground when he’d eat as much food in a day than he’d eat in a week Underground— stealing food, or eating way too quickly (as someone who lived in a place where food was considered something of a luxury resource and threatened being stolen at any time).

The latter factor contributes to Levi’s suggested preference to only eat alone—joining the fact that Levi only eats with Erwin after expeditions. Eating in front of others should be considered a weakness to him.

As time passes with this easy access to food, combined with his extremely narrow sense of what makes him “good enough”, his relationship with eating may become toxic. Especially when the stakes of his worthiness are so high—literally life and death. He may think that he’s privileged to eat at all, and when he feels worthless, he restricts himself from that “privilege”.

He may be so accustomed to the feeling of hunger, that it doesn’t immediately register with his mind when he is hungry.

Lastly, he may have a generally low appetite. This is often associated with depression, but depression is comorbid with C-PTSD.

Misc.

Some tangents/miscellaneous speculation about Levi’s psychology:

Queer?

Sexuality is formed and shifts due to a wide variety of factors, which most if not all are terribly understudied: genetics, hormones, and your environment/experiences. So again, my speculation.

With his fear of close relationships and negative experiences with sex, I think he should land somewhere on the queer spectrum, specifically under the asexual or aromantic umbrella (i.e., pansexuality/being panromantic (attraction to personality) and demisexuality/being demiromantic (attraction only to those he has an emotional connection to)).

MDD

The odds of Levi having MDD (major depressive disorder/clinical depression) are iffy. Most if not all of the symptoms are comorbid with childhood trauma and C-PTSD: Such as persistent apathy, guilt, and/or discontent; sleeping too much or too little; lack of energy; reduced or heightened appetite; irritability.

Oftentimes, depression, C-/PTSD, and related mental illnesses cause unexplained physical pain, such as back pain and occasional tension headaches. “Stress hormones” like adrenaline are built-up in the body, and usually persist without physical therapy and-or medication (Disclaimer this mention is based on nothing more than Levi always standing with at least one hand on his hip).

Body Language

Similar can be said of his body language from a cognitive perspective. The vast majority of the time, Levi has himself closed-off in some way, usually by crossing his arms to protect his chest; a subconscious barrier between oneself and another person.

Also see this official art of Levi asleep.

Afterword

We’ve known it’s not just Levi’s physical strength and skill that makes him the strongest, right? It should take immense mental strength to make it day-by-day dealing with the trauma and issues that he does, but not only has he survived and continues to, but he lives heroically, selflessly, with the wellbeing of everyone around him as a top priority. He buries all of his pain by moving forward always and without exception regardless of how painful the present is. Living with “no regrets” should in mental respects be a guise for pushing his trauma down, too; there’s just no words that can properly do Levi’s resilience justice.

Part of me wants to go into detail about his later adulthood, but given how very little we know (right now), I think it’d be too speculative.

However, based on what we have seen at the ending of AOT, it’s comforting to know and plain to see that Levi wasn’t defeated when he “lost” the reason to be so strong, and even his strength itself; he didn’t lose his love for his friends nor of life.

In middle age, based on Erikson’s psychosocial stages, the conflict that should enter Levi’s life is the idea of generativity versus stagnation. He seems satisfied with his life despite the negative effects of all he went through—grief, physical disability, inevitable mental scarring—and he’s still concerned with helping others, especially the younger generation in a world after the overwhelming devastation that was the Rumbling.

My speculated psychopathologies/diagnoses of Levi:

C-PTSD (insomnia prevalent)

OCD (contamination obsessions)

EDNOS

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christinebloodwrittings · 5 days

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To hunt or be hunted #7

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: A moment of weakness, or perhaps of caring? Warnings: SMUT kids scram!.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis

Sorry for the updating problems, now it's finished :3

"Then...make me your reason" your laughter was unexpected, but then again, he wasn’t expecting for you to say yes right away.

"Why? And don't sell me the cow that in less than three months you fell for me, 'cause it's not possible, besides you're married" the brightness that surrounded him, upset your stomach, it was a reminder.

Her. His story, the fall, his and her promises of never stopping loving each other. What could happen between them to break such a love story? What if she never came back?

Could you live long enough to make him happy? Will you suffice?

"Well, I grew fond of our talks, it will be really sad if I lost my cuddle buddy" He wasn't sure what he was saying, just the fact that not seeing you was not an option, "And, I've noticed you take good care of Charlie" it hurt him, a lot, but seeing his own daughter being taken care of in any way possible, but not by him, was like a direct stab to his heart.

Your weirded out face made him explain:

"You make sure she eats, in the mornings it's you who gives her vitamins, you remind her of her appointments, bandage her when she gets hurt, I've even heard her rant to you and take your advice at heart. You've taken care of my daughter as if she was yours" Lucifer’s heart ached with every word.

A lightning bolt hit your entire body, figuratively. Eight years of taking care of her, it was as natural as breathing. Did you perhaps reflect the stolen need for motherhood in her? If so, her real mother is going to annihilate you.

"What if that was your reason?" he had his hope on the line, "I'm not her mother, the real deal will kill me if she hears me, but though she's being unbelievably irresponsible, I cannot take this from her” you took notice on his hands again, he had them on each side of your head it was hard not to notice.

Subtle scratches, horizontal, messy and weirdly even, the depression medication. Oh you prayed she never get back, he would never forgive you if her head was on the other end of your axe, but you won’t have him getting hurt by her again, and if it could be at the expense of your life, even better.

"I think, deep down, she knows that. I'm not excluded in that" he lowered himself again, at least you wouldn’t look him in the eyes when you spoke, it hurt seeing his ‘at the verge of tears’ look.

"You know, I think if you tell your daughter of your depression, she will stop resenting your absence" he pulled himself up again, his red cheeks went so down you thought they would reach the underside of his chin "She does what?" anguish, pure at that.

"What did you think she rants about? Partially you, mainly why her hotel isn't working” he sighed, listening to you made him understand why Charlie stook around you, which was the other way around mostly, but still. He took your hand from his shoulder, kissed your knuckles with his eyes closed, then muttered a very heartfelt "Thank you for taking care of her” before leaning against your palm.

"With time it became my pleasure, at first I wanted to kill her" you chuckled, he came down on your neck, inhaling the remanent smell on his shampoo. What an intimate thing, Lilith wouldn’t be caught dead wearing some other thing than her rose smelling antique perfume and products.

“Good thing you didn't” he muttered, “And face you? I ain't stupid" you only realized what you said when he started laughing at you, a soundly one with one or two occasional snorts, "Shut up" you rolled on your side with him still on you, which was pretty easy.

"Make us your reason, stay" if you were sober you would’ve coward in your old morals for the intimate position, crotch to crotch, but it was so close and warm.

“I'm just leaving that option on the table, if you still want to die, we'll miss you dearly, heck, I think even that son of bitch of Alastor will” you shook your head softly, attempting not to laugh, the alcohol doing all the funny work in your brain.

“You enjoy being in between my tits, huh?” his snake smile was too much when you dropped that, “I've been here through all this conversation, didn't heard you complaining” his hand went up and down your back.

“You have her in your mind when we do this” your happiness went away, your limbs went limp, so did your mind for a moment.

“No, not so much” his smile dropped, gosh you wished you could sew it up, “I wasn't asking, I just want to know if you're aware of who I’m not”.

“I am” he assured.

“Do I disappoint you, when you open your eyes and realize she's still not here?” he was, his hesitation told you everything.

"Thing is, I can't make you or Charlie my reason, I will not be a replacement, I'm sure you understand"

"And what if Alastor asked you that? Will you?".

"No, he’s two different people, one with me and another in public, and he despises physical touch and PDA on a daily basis, and I need that" you saw his shadow slip from under the door, drawing a finger along his neck and an ok hand gesture.

“But he did me a solid tonight, a huge one, if he asked me for a kiss tomorrow I would give him some sugar” the shadow winked then slipped under again.

“And if I did? Would you?” you knew what he was asking, but instead you just played something random in your head in hopes for him to let you sleep a bit, “Give you a kiss? My, my, your majesty, how forward”.

“You're a prude” he moved away from your neck, “I'm simply old fashioned”.

His hand rested on your cheek, gently moving towards your neck, not squeezing or pressing, just holding it. Your tail wrapped around your leg, at the same time you closed your eyes as her face approached, slowly. A kiss, calm, soft, near the corner of your lips.

"Is that okay?" you weren’t listening, you wanted to relish on the loveliness of his gesture, it made you all bubbly and lovely. You hummed, there was nothing else you could utter, not when his breath went back to your neck.

A mental ‘fuck it’ later, had you yanking his head away from your neck and pressing your lips on his, "Remind me of this when I'm sober" as soon as you were done you pulled him back against you, "Will do" a loved sick king he was, reminded him when he just had met Lilith.

"And Y/n…if you gave me a chance and some time, you wouldn't be a replacement” after a second of thought and a heavy sigh, “Can I keep that option and sleep on it for a while?" he smiled then nuzzled into your warmth, as did you, "Sure thing, like I said, the option is there".

The way Lucifer saw it, an abstract void in which he was trapped, willingly so.

How can he put seven years of pain behind him? It is as if he is sitting in the dark, while the world moves around him, he doesn’t know if he falls or rises, he only feels the movement and how it leaves him behind in a certain way. He sees you, far away in the shadows, your body wrapped in them, covering everything except your face, to him it looks like you are drowning, in the center of your chest a white, empty hole.

Your tired eyes without more tears to shed, even without strength they managed to stay away from the shadows, how? He alone clinging to hope and denial kept the cold of loneliness and despair at bay.

Contrary from him, you maintained yourself above the darkness, standing, strong despite being tired out of your mind. He longed to know what drove you to keep walking despite everything. Reach you in some way, save you from the hands of pain that tried to drag you into oblivion.

What were you reaching for? Your arm was out stretched, towards the sky, was it heaven? Someone to help you? He wanted to, he wanted to move, why he couldn’t?

“Fuck, Y/n! Wait for me, please, I’ll find a way, I promise!” he yelled into the void, not getting your attention despite how many times he did, or how loud he was.

Specks of lights made you fade from view, “No, please, not you too, I can be better!” His knees shook, so he used his claws against the ground to try to move towards you, tearing the skin under his nails from the strength he put into it.

“Please, don’t leave!” he yelled one more time. And then, he felt how his agitated breathing dried his throat, the light from his room almost blinded his eyes when he opened them. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was a dream.

It was still pretty early, the sky was still dark, the only light that illuminated the room was the one from the bathroom.

You were kneeling near the toilet, head down, he guessed the alcohol caught up on you and moved away from him to vomit. Silently he picked up your hair from your face, gently holding all the soft strands in his hand, as the other caressed your back softly.

Still, not a single word being uttered, he materialized you a toothbrush, then he waited for you to come back to bed, his arms open. This time he positioned himself behind your back, one arm under your neck and the other across your waist, avoiding pressing too hard.

You wondered, what made him treat you so sweetly? You touched with your index softly along the scratches on his wrist, “How can someone ethereal like you, be troubled by things so earth bound?” you realized you said it out loud when the hand that was on your waist moved to intertwine it with yours.

“I’m far from ethereal” his hot breath was on your ear, the twitching made him smile. “You were an angel, how can someone like you feel so much pain?” It was difficult for him to analyze your question, were you perhaps questioning that angels did not feel emotions? “How? I feel, you like you” you shook your head, “That’s not what I mean” collecting your thoughts seemed impossible, it was a mental mess.

“You wonder why I feel pain?” you hummed in response, “I feel like at the beginning, helpless, useless, I took away her chance to go to heaven, believing I could make her happy, but it wasn’t enough” he then added “I wasn’t enough” hurt was an understatement, there was a whole set of words yo describe how his voice sounded, but his sadness overall brought a few tears to fall off your eyes.

“I may have felt the same way… still do” he hugged you even tighter, “We are two broken souls, a bunch of messy pieces” you leaned your face to the marks on his wrist, placing a subtle kiss as you joked “Scrap books”, making him smile and let out a small laugh, “You’re so cute”.

🍎📻

"Alastor, is me, open up" you leaned against the door frame, your headache killing your head and your stomach on the verge of jumping off your body. That and the tiredness for waking up in the middle of the night made your voice a bit raspy and slurred.

"Good morning mon chérie, how was your night?" either he was being a sunshine to piss you off, or he was in a sincere good mood…or both.

“I am never drinking again” he laughed a little, watching you push the silver ‘room service’ cart inside his room, setting it on a near corner.

“I assumed as much” he reached his bookshelf and pulled a couple pills out of a few boxes, “You're amazing” he got all kind of tingles when you took the pills off his hand, he relished on how unbelievably soft your skin was.

"I must say that about you, quite the entertainment your ex resulted to be" With his cup of tea he sat in a single red sofa chair, with his free hand he pat the black one on his side. You flopped on the seat with your cup of coffee.

“Is he dead?” he couldn’t tell by your already sour tone if you were being sarcastic or you really cared, "Barely alive, but healing, I will tore him apart again tonight" the little smile he got from you was delightful.

"Darling, I have some information for you" if the ass of your ex told him anything, you didn’t needed to know, curiosity burned your insides though. “What will it cost me?” he hummed pensative, “A kiss” that was odd coming from him, but then again you remembered telling him, or his shadow, that.

“The intel first, to see if it's worth it” you tried to laugh your urge to kill someone, “I know the name of the man your daughter got sold to, he's down here" he took a sip of his tea, "He's in the mafia district, I know where his base of operations is".

"I… want to see him first, hear from him what he did with my daughter, even if it hurts" he hummed in understanding, reaching your hand, giving you a reassurance squeeze.

"Again, thank you Alastor, you...have no idea how much I appreciate this" he smiled, the shadows that conformed the chair you sat on elevated you and with a swift movement you fell gently on Alastor’s lap. "Show me” ‘fucking narcissist’ you thought, bringing your hand to cup his cheek.

When your lips merged with his, time didn’t mattered, it in fact went a lot slower. He embraced your waist with one arm, bringing you closer if that was possible, his other one secured your back and neck in place, grasping a fistful of your hair once or twice.

He sensed his mental sanity left his body when he felt your hand on the back of his head, caressing ever so lightly, going down to the rim of his shirt, respecting the limit he wanted to eliminate.

He felt a little brave, comfortable with the interaction, the white shirt carefully tucked into your pants was lifted, allowing Alastor’s hand to roam around your back, feeling the corset laces, playing with them.

"Don't do that if you're not going to do something about it" you warned, your forehead in touch with his. Alastor’s smile softened, “I’m not partial to physical touch” he started, “You’ve made that clear” you giggled, pecking his cheek, earning a content sigh from him.

“Somehow you… how to put it? Make me desire it, to have you nearer than I accustom” you blinked a few times, your hand went back to his cheek, softly making your way to his hair, “I don’t understand why, nor this feeling, would you help me dearest?” He had closed his eyes when your hand touched him again, but at the end of his question he opened them.

Having known well the desire faces of countless men, you knew that what Alastor was begging for was not any sexual impulse, but closeness, warmth, softness. The pleasure that only a person who burns for another can deliver.

You weren't sure if you could provide him with such a feeling, however the guilt of having denied him your sympathy for fear of becoming too attached dissipated for a second.

His face got close once again, his eyes asking for permission, without wasting any more time you let him introduce his tongue into your mouth, a passion that ignited a flame of desire that ran through your entire body.

He pulled apart, “May I?” He referred to the bulletproof corset you were wearing. After nodding your head, he deftly undid the slats that held your torso together, as well as unbuttoned your shirt and removed the leather straps over your shoulders.

He seemed to pay no attention to the snake tattoo clutching your arm, making its way to in between your breast.

Exposed from the waist up, but that wasn't going to be uneven. You asked the same thing, your hands playing with the hem of his shirt, occasionally touching his Adam's apple to rile him up.

You knew he was unsure, but he nodded nonetheless. He kissed you again as he felt you letting his coat fall from his shoulders, as well as the leather cross that adorned his chest, and then one button at a time his shirt opened, until you had a clear view once again of the scars. under his fine fur, the already healed battle wound and his thin but strong torso.

His hands then touched a series of indentations on your skin, long and repetitive, almost all of the same length, spreading across your skin to a little below your shoulders. When he wanted to stop kissing you to take a look, you held his face against the back of the chair, "Don't make me feel like damaged goods, don't pay attention to what you're touching, okay?" You didn't want to see him feel sorry for you, for once you wanted to enjoy the attention without thinking about your past.

He obeyed your wishes. Standing up from the chair, with you up with him, in a flash of green, he laid you down on a dark red fabric, he had materialized a bed on his room.

His hands caressed from your shoulders to your breasts, perhaps admiring the shape or the softness, but more than anything, what made Alastor make sighs of pleasure was leaving small kisses and bites from your neck to the space between your breast.

The small electric sensations made you cling to his shoulders, fighting any urge to accidentally scratch him. Purposedly, returning to your face level, he pressed his groin against your core, a yelp escaped your throat, a sound that to his ears was heavenly.

“Take the cover off” He knew you used a dental cover over your fangs, mostly to avoid cutting your tongue or lips, “You want me to bite you?” he chuckled, his face adorned with a lustful glint, “I want you to devour me, chérie” with a snap of his fingers, he made it go away, leaving it on a tiny box on the shelf on top of the fireplace.

He left his collarbone exposed and free for you, raising his body a little higher, taking the opportunity to lick the sensitive edge of your ear. His breath caught as your teeth embedded in the curve where his shoulder and neck meet. When he was able to breathe again he exhaled shakily, causing your cervix to tingle.

Ecstasy, that was the word that came to Alastor's mind after trying to rationalize. His knees trembled, but he felt strong enough to lift your body and move you from the edge of the bed, towards the center, your head resting on one of the pillows.

Something that he could not do in life, but because it never occurred to him that he would need it, try the pleasures of skin. He moved down your body, hands on your belt, he again asked for your permission and with a smile you nodded. His constant questioning was refreshing, no one was interested in asking you if you wanted to be defiled, however, he was different.

Like the show man he is, he traveled down to your feet, pulling one up his shoulder, as he unzip your boots and felt all undergarments discarded on the edge of the bed. Never breaking eye contact as he did.

He also undid his pants, allowing you to see the red streak of hair that went down his bellybutton to the groomed part over his groin. He was big, the color of his skin matching the cream hue on his face, only lighter.

“I’ve never done this before” he confessed, ears to his sides, “You want me to take the lead?” you asked, not mocking but trying assure him it wasn’t something to be embarrassed about, “Tell me how can I pleasure you” your own ears went down embarrassed, “You don’t have to go down on me, but the path has to be opened, you can do it with your fingers”.

He hummed, burring his face in your neck as his hand went down your stomach, passing over your clit to go in between your folds, finding your wet entrance. You gasped, he rid of his claws as he introduced one finger.

Your hands flew to his back, alarming him a little, “It’s okay, it just…been a while, I kind of forgot the feeling” your face was flushed, too embarrassed to look at him in the eye. He continued a soft pumping motion, nipping on your neck as he did. Relishing on the gasps and moans that left your throat. He continued that way until he was able to add three fingers, and by the then your insides squeezed him tightly, then your back arched as you emitted a loud high gasp.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t hold it anymore, it felt so good, I’m sorry” he kissed your tears away, “I’m actually quite flattered I was able to pleasure you to the point of finishing just with my fingers” he made you laugh, “Al, please, I need you inside” your whole body was shaking as he touched you.

“With pleasure, ma belle vie” He positioned the tip on the edge, sending shivers up his spine. Little by little he pushed himself inside, all the way to the rim.

He waited for some kind of confirmation despite his urge to move, although he found your hips grinding on his was enough of a clue to continue.

His pace started off slow and gentle, when you pulled his face back for a kiss, something inside of him snaped. “Y/n” He brought your knees higher on his sides, making you press against his skin.

His eyes went black, his antlers and body increased in size, and so did his dick as he was still inside you. Not enough to rip you apart, but considerably bigger than at the beginning.

Alastor's mind suddenly switched off, wandering in darkness for a few seconds, “Alastor! Ah!” before your loud whine brought him to clarity again.

He looked down on you, "Are you alright?" On the inside he was worried out of his mind, but he tried to seem - in his own words- cool, as he asked.

Tears ran down your eyes, your skin was sweaty and flushed, you were panting and moaning as you tried to make up an answer. He felt your legs trembling against his skin. “Something like that” you said out of breath, a week smile on your face.

"Please don't stop now, I'm very close" he wanted to please you, but when he looked down at in between your legs, as he decreased in size, his dick was now soft and leaking.

"I think it won't be possible dearest" you shook your head with a soft smile, "Don't you worry, come here" he didn't noticed how much of his strength his orgasm took away, until he relaxed his body nuzzling into yours.

“Are you sure it’s enough?” since you had already came twice, you felt that you didn’t need to be greedy, after all, it was his first time. “I’m sure” to your eyes he truly seemed happy.

It warmed your heart when he hid his face on the crook of your neck, looping his arms around your waist and legs intertwined with yours. "I suppose after this you won’t be allowing me to touch you for a week” he sighed, “Most likely” you felt comfortable, happy, his was another type of warmth, “Y/n” he spoke, kissing the red marks he left on your skin.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I really am” spotting his ear, you seized the opportunity to nip at it, gently but with a little force that caused him to dig his nails on your hips, and let out a whine.

“What was that for?” he pushed himself off to hover on top of you, not necessarily angry but bothered and hot, “To piss you off” he groaned at your amused expression, not having any fun with it despite his permanent smile, “You’re more than forgiven, will you accompany me to pay the mobster a visit?” he sighed, lowering himself to kiss your lips before whispering against them, “It will be my pleasure, darling”.

You two agreed to stay a little bit more time in bed before attempting to shower, despite his wish to take a bath with you, he felt too overstimulated to allow any more touch, which you respected.

Little did you know, that the king found himself making a mess inside his pants, as he had watched the whole thing from the rim of the door. With the aid of his wings he scurried back to his room, his hand going up and down his dick in an attempt to soothe the aching.

“Y/n” he repeated, panting. In his mind he saw himself taking hold of your hips, your hair, hands, breast. Holding your whole being against him. He thought he knew angelic chorus sounds, until your moans proved him wrong.

His breath hitched cumming a second time into his hand, “Fucking bell hop, fucking bastard” he hit the back of his head against the wall he was leaning in.

The painting of his wife on the wall made him feel guilty about what he had done. Masturbate thinking about someone else? he had never thought about it when she was away. He didn't even have the strength to do it anyway.

At the end of a mental torture, he concluded that the kiss you gave him last night was not enough, he was going to make sure he didn’t lost you to Alastor, he just had to figure how to convince you to want to live.

-----------------------------------

Stay tuned ;3.

Part 8

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sugar-grigri · 5 months

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What would happen if we killed death ?

Here we are, Chapter 150, so let's not waste any more time and get straight to the analysis.

This chapter is rich, incredibly rich, both in what it says and in the way it is presented. This time I'm going to tackle the visuals directly in the first part of the chapter.

As you've probably gathered by now, this chapter deals with the evolution of Denji's dream, as the title clearly indicates.

What's interesting is to see how it plays out visually. The alleyway is a visual element that has been used several times by Fujimoto to signify a period in Denji's life, his childhood.

It metaphorically represents not only an unhappy childhood and loneliness, but also the gap between a needy child ignored by society. Worse still, he is excluded. When Denji emancipates himself, the focus is on passers-by, on others. As Denji symbolically leaves the alleyway, he realises that he is now part of society. His dream of a normal life should be understood as a desire to live in a community, among others, and to make friends with them.

In other words, getting out of the alley is Denji's lifelong dream, the key to his self-fulfilment and to a certain path forward.

It's a metaphor that Fujimoto loves once again. In this illustration, for example, Aki and Power are heading towards the light while Denji is still in the shadows. Bathed in light, Aki and Power represent both a key to Denji's happiness and fulfilment, just as the light represents the end of a journey: their destiny, the end of their own lives.

This illustration is extraordinary because Denji's gaze is fixed backwards, towards the alleyway, focusing on his flaws and his past. He is unaware, because he is not looking at them, that the key to his fulfilment has already been found, that he is in the process of leaving the alleyway. What's more, even if this means the end of Power and Aki's existence, they are serene, as if they know that happiness, even without them, will await Denji.

That's my first comment, so let's move on to what's happening in terms of action and dialogue.

Nayuta focuses on ordinary life, which helps Denji realise that he has reached it. It may seem odd that Denji is only just realising this now, but he is someone who operates by the senses. Moving away from the alley visually helps him realise his emancipation, as does seeing these ordinary people.

But above all, if Denji didn't entirely realise it, it's also because he wasn't happy in this ordinary life, as the last arc showed. Torn by the fact that he was no longer Chainsaw Man, Denji didn't realise that he was ordinary because he thought that was what would make him happy, and as he wasn't, he didn't think that his dream had been achieved for some time. It may sound complex, but once again it makes a lot of sense when you realise that Denji is someone who functions by sensation.

But it's even more subtle than that: Denji had realised that he was getting closer to his dream, but that wasn't why he allowed himself to dream about something else. And that's precisely where the power of this chapter lies: it's by starting to dream of something else that he reconnects with his identity, because the contract between him and Pochita is the pursuit of a dream. In other words, Denji was not only Chainsaw Man to protect Nayuta from the public hunters, he was no longer Chainsaw Man because he no longer allowed himself to dream. Until then, Chainnaw Man was an empty shell.

When Denji says he wants to become Chainsaw Man, he means he now wants to dream.

We come to the figure of the raven crushed by Denji as he runs: what does it mean?

One possible interpretation is that we don't know. I'm not saying this to clear my name, but because I think that's its real symbolism. In the West, the raven is generally a sign of bad omens, whereas in other cultures, such as Japanese or Celtic, the raven is the symbol of a god, the sun in Japan. Even if we could associate the raven with the metaphor of light coming out of the alleyway, the fact remains that it is not an animal that is appreciated or venerated in Japan, notably for the fact that it is a vulture that picks through rubbish.

It's this ambiguity that the raven represents, something that can't be pinned down. It's interesting, because by trampling on it, Denji turns to another dream, is it a good omen or a bad one? No one knows whether claiming to be Chainsaw Man will help Denji find happiness.

That would be one possible interpretation. But for the sake of completeness, there is one last one.

When I say that symbolism is hard to establish, it's only when I refute an obvious one. Let me explain: whether it's Bucky and his death, Yoru and Asa's death, the birds and Yuko being killed by Fake!CSM, and finally that raven. It's obvious that not only the raven but the bird in general represents death but also the end of a period, an era, a cycle.

Not only do the birds mark the end of one cycle, they also signal the beginning of a new one. Bucky's death opens Part 2, Yoru marks the beginning of Asa's second life, and Yuko's death ushers in the arrival of the most mysterious character in Part 2: Fake!CSM. The Raven marks the beginning of a new dream.

I think we need to be more subtle in this analysis and see it through to the end. Asa and Denji both do the same thing, they either crush birds or they give death to death.

It seems impossible but just as the bird that is supposed to fly in the skies is rarely found under our feet to be crushed. Asa and Denji are the two champions, the two candidates to prevent Death, and little by little the birds mark the cogs in a mechanism that is being put in place: the confrontation with Death.

My various interpretations can add up, and when they do, they lead to one question: when we give death to death, what happens? Is it necessarily a bad thing ?

The fact that the birds symbolise a link with death is correlated with the fact that Denji loses his family and his dogs when his flat burns down. The destruction of his home represents the erasure of Denji's landmarks, what he had built up, returning to the cause of departure, since we are at the beginning of a new era, a new cycle.

The relationship with death is correlated by Barem, who not only intends to fight it but also sees it as a common denominator for all species.

I love the play on words that the flamethrower hybrid introduces: "I figure killing Asa wouldn't fire you up that much", it really supports Barem's desire to arouse Denji and get him to react.

But all that aside, there are other things to relate. Not least with our other protagonist: Asa.

To return to the metaphor of the alley, visually and symbolically, she's the one who joined Denji in the alley. She's not just a symbol of Denji's step towards others, but also a symbol of others' step towards him.

Fujimoto encourages us to reread the chapters using the key vectors of the dog and the cat.

This line is the centrepiece.

Not only does Barem support the death once again of Denji's family, his dogs and his cat, but it's much more subtle than that. They are the key to a love that is not only universal, but also the key to Asa and Denji's happiness, and to their ability to bond with other species. When Denji wanted to save Asa from the falling devil, he told her straight away to think of cats and dogs.

They are also a symbol of progress, Asa bonding with her cat after the death of her mother, while Denji bonds with Pochita after the death of his father.

They are also what unites the two protagonists of Chainsaw Man: a cat with Asa and a dog with Denji. Just as Fujimoto likes to emphasise the influence they have on each other, whether it's Asa who places Denji between the criminal and the cat or how Yoru will behave like a dog because of Nayuta.

So what does Barem's line clearly mean? What I find incredible is that every time Barem tries to put Denji against the wall, he always unconsciously provides an element of the answer.

At their first meeting in chapter 140: Barem tries to present Denji with a dilemma. Asa Mitaka or Chainsaw Man? The answer is unconsciously found in the two fingers he plunges into Denji's nose: both.

Here again, Barem thinks he has Denji pegged, it's not Asa that matters to him but his dogs and cat. But note the plural, Denji only has one cat, Meowy. Now we make the connection: Asa represents the cat. She's also important to Denji.

If you're not convinced by Barem's unconscious response, then here again you can see a parasitic gesture in the fact that he knocks Denji down. Who else always falls at the wrong time? Who fell when their family was also dying? Well, yes. Barem's only point here is that even if Asa and Denji don't know each other very well, they don't really need to, given their similarities.

Once again, Barem thinks he's cornering Denji when he doesn't realise that he's just included Asa in what he's saying. Once again this is symbolic writing, with elements of foreshadowing and denouement of the characters subtly placed in Barem's lines. Barem likes to make prophetic announcements, as he is also a believer, but his message escapes him because he is not aware of the work in which he finds himself.

But that doesn't help us to understand what happens when we kill death ?

The characters can't guess at the omens that lie ahead. Just as their own message eludes them.

The only thing we know for sure that these birds are announcing is the end of an era and a new era.

The answer is so obvious that it escapes us. We have seen the resemblance between these two protagonists, their families, their losses, the destruction of their homes, their landmarks. We could say that this would be mourning.

But moving on despite the end of all these cycles, without knowing what lies ahead. Isn't that just growing up?

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coupleoffanfics · 8 months

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Future Child

Okay, Batsis reader. Right? On board? This is around the time when y/n has given up the nightlife and hasn't detached herself from the family.

I'm gonna go off the wall and say what if the family was visited by y/n's child from the future? I know it sounds crazy, but please listen. The family could run a DNA test or the child could walk up to Bruce in broad daylight and whisper, "Hello, flying rodent".

They won't reveal their name, so they're just called V.

During their time there Dick would be so tempted to ask about the future. Maybe not things specifically about his life because he knows they can't answer questions like that. But he'll ask just stupid questions like do cats have jetpacks or something? He'd also try to get to know his nephew. What they like, personality, etc.

Tim and Bruce would be poking at them on how they got here. Though Bruce probably had to take a moment to crack a smile for a split second. He was going to be a grandpa one day and the thought made him tear up. It's just happy news all around for him but he wouldn't dare show it.

Damian would be observing them closely and taking note of their outfit which looked to be something a hero would wear. Making him wonder what kinda of hero they were and if they were any good at fighting. Both Jason and Barbara just stood back from the situation. Babs is still in a bit of shock but is happy to hear that y/n was able to gain the domestic lifestyle she wanted.

y/n's child gives them a gist of how ended up here without giving names. Dick would notice V glancing around the cave and offer to give them a tour. They except of course. He takes note of how V doesn't seem into small talk but asks a lot of questions. The whole family picks up on how X asks a lot of questions about y/n. Their mother. It's odd and a bit worrying to Bruce, but the others just think that y/n didn't talk too much about her time as Batgirl.

Everything is relatively calm until y/n walks into the Batcave for her laptop. V's calm, almost stoic mood is dropped. Tim and Bruce see how V almost took a step forward, but reluctantly stood still. How V started rapidly blinking their eyes and struggling to look at y/n.

Dick would probably zoom up to y/n with a big smile, "Hey, Mama bird, did you get the diapers?" And y/n just gives him a confused, maybe even sacred look.

Everything is going fine. The family is working together on getting them to their time. Cool, yeah, whatever.

But what if there's just something that triggers V. It could be something that was said or asked that leads V and y/n to argue. It's not even arguing. It's just V spilling out grievances about their father and kind of insulting y/n.

"I can't believe you'd still defend him even before you met him. How rich."…"You didn't plan me, but Dad did and you were somehow okay with it? I was only there to keep you down, but what about the other two? Did you love them more because Dad didn't plan them?"…"Dad may have cared about you, but not us. You weren't a monster like him, but letting him get away with so much makes you just as guilty."…"You're both broken people. Maybe you two are meant to be."

V storms off and y/n retreats to her room. Everyone is dumbstruck by this sudden revolution.

Eventually, V does apologize to y/n. When she awkwardly accepts, they get misty-eyed because they really didn't mean to say any of that. They know how she doesn't take the apology, not entirely, and they feel like shit. They do care about their mom, despite all that they said.

When it's almost time for V to return back to the future they pull the whole family aside. Excluding y/n so she won't hear what they're going to say.

"As you guessed my Dad wasn't the best. Mom never talked about any of you and with Dad being a villain I could understand why. He's not a good person in general. Mom deserved better, so this time around try doing a better job. Don't let her slip away or be taken away. If I'm born then you know you failed."

This resonates with the family and brings up questions that won't be answered anytime soon. I could see this leading the family to become yandere or overprotective. Either one is fine because their efforts are futile.

If going down the Yandere route then I could see them becoming so overbearing that y/n runs from them. They control her life. Who she talks to, where she goes, what she does. She can't live like this and she runs away when given the chance.

If going down the protective route then it's slightly better than the Yandere one. At least in terms of their relationship. They pay extra attention to her and check up on her regularly until one day she just disappears.

In each route, They'd keep a close eye on any guy that has similar physical features (ex: hair, eyes). Since V has stated they look more like their father. When she does go missing they'll search high and low for her, but there isn't anything that would locate where she is. Her disappearance keeps them up at night for many years until a vaguely familiar person visits the manor.

They awkwardly introduce themself, "Hi, my name is..."

They failed.

If anyone wants to write about this idea then go ahead. Doesn't even have to be the Batfamily. I won't write about it unless asked. I'm just not married to the idea. It almost 2 in the morning I need sleep.

#batfamily x batsis #batfamily x reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #dick grayson x batsis #damian wayne x batsis #jason todd x reader #ramble ideas from no one #tim drake x reader #batsis reader #batsis imagine

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mlmxreader · 1 month

Text

I'm not gonna be in the Call Of Duty fandom anymore, well, the MW fandom. at least not fully, and I will explain, but first and foremost I want to clarify: I'm NOT leaving tumblr entirely & I'm NOT gonna back down either from my previous statements. So, allow me to begin as to why I'm making this decision.

The rape, incest, pedo and animal abuse pornography

Quite frankly, as someone who has been through rape and child sexual abuse, I find it ABHORRENT that anyone would ever look at such abuses and decide to fetishise, romanticise and glorify these things. I do not care nor want to know your "justifications" because frankly there aren't any. As a survivor, I am aware that the fandom is malicious and nasty towards people like me; I am aware that you people willingly and HAPPILY engage with such harmful, disgusting material. Quite honestly, I could not name a space more dedicated to the harassment, malicious treatment and utterly disgusting behaviour towards these topics and the people who openly disagree with them.

The racism

Before you tell me "Call Of Duty fans have always been racist", I am aware of that. But I'm talking specifically about the niche fandom (because it is niche). The fandom treats Black and Brown characters utterly abhorrently; from turning Gaz into a stereotype through to fetishising Farah and everything in between, the fandom's racism is progressively getting WORSE - and then x reader writers (who are predominantly white) only add to that by purposefully and willfully excluding Black and Brown people from fandom altogether. The racism within this space makes it clear that anybody who is NOT white is NOT welcome, and frankly, I do not wish to be associated with such disgusting people. To treat Black people as tokens, to purposefully KICK people of colour out of fandom - it's disgraceful and I hope that everybody is ashamed of themselves.

The ableism and saneism

The Call Of Duty fandom is NOT a safe place for anyone who has a psychotic, schizospec, dissociative or personality disorder. Plain and simple. From the colloquial usage of mental health terms such as "delusional", through to the "jokes" which are made to trigger people with such disorders (e.g. "in your walls"), and to the casual usage of anti-psychotic slurs like "psycho" and "schizo", it's obvious to anyone with just one quick look that this fandom sees people with such disorders as either their punching bags, their "memes" or worse: not human at all. And this also translates to fanworks, as quite honestly, I'm tired of seeing the same treatment directed towards characters like Nikto, because it shows that you people do not care about us at all. We aren't human to you, and we never will be. We are not even worth CONSIDERING when it comes to offensive language - it's degrading, it's dehumanising and it's exhausting to have to constantly walk away from fanworks that are so obviously made with malicious intent.

The homophobia

I am a bisexual/pansexual/omnisexual/queer/whatever you wanna call it man, and the amount of homophobia in the Call Of Duty fandom is disgusting. No, bisexual men AREN'T your "uwu bby boy so soft such a bottom bitch!!". You perpetuating homophobic stereotypes for the sake of a ship is utterly and completely and truly vile. How dare you claim to support LGBTQIA+/queer people when you KNOWINGLY perpetuate these stereotypes? When you KNOWINGLY engage in homophobic behaviour. You are scum.

The antisemitism and islamophobia

This is a touchy subject for non-religious folk, but I really wish you lot would all leave religious people alone. It takes you two seconds to look up what Muslims and Jews believe in and act accordingly. It takes you two seconds to NOT open your mouth when Muslims and Jews talk about their headcanons of characters being religious - because what gives you the right? Why do you feel so comfortable to shut down religious people's headcanons of characters? "Oh, he can't be Jewish because he's English", English Jews exist. "Oh, he can't be Muslim because he's Scottish", Scottish Muslims exist. These people exist in real life, and you saying that a character CANNOT be a Muslim or a Jew because of where they come from is little more than antisemitism and Islamophobia. Do better.

The apathy

When I say "the apathy", I mean exactly that. It is exhausting having to call out these horrid things time and time again and then see people WILLINGLY ignoring blatant bigotry by brushing it off and saying "I don't want to get involved in drama", as if somebody being a bigot is akin to a quarrel between two friends, or a disagreement between two people. If you aren't willing to address genuine harm ONLINE, then I'm sorry, but I doubt you would do anything OFFLINE either. If you're boiling things that actually harm people down to "drama", then I'm sorry, but you can't expect to be considered a safe person for people to be open with and to be honest with when it comes to their mental health or to their triggers. It's that simple. Your apathy towards your fellow man is blatant, and I cannot in good conscience continue to rub shoulders with such people.

Going forward

I'm not going to be engaging with MOST of the content within the Call Of Duty fandom - whether that's edits, fanfic, fanart, etc. I'm not. I've got a few mutuals who I've decided I WILL continue reading from or looking at their art or whatever, but for the most part, I'm not going to be active within the Call Of Duty fandom. I will continue writing for SOME of the characters, but my list of who I write for will be drastically reduced to just a few select characters. If somebody asks me "hey, is X thing saneist?" then of course I'll answer. If somebody points out to me that I took a request from someone who follows a rape pornographer, then I will delete that request and that fanfic entirely. I will still be happy to talk about the characters & games, but it will only be WHEN ASKED, and I will continue to use my DNI (although I'm going to change it a little so that the rape porn viewers/readers know I don't want them near me).

Of course, if anyone requires further clarification on anything I said, I'll be happy to answer and explain as best as I can! And if anyone feels emboldened by this post to come forward and share their own experiences with such things, then I will happily read through that, too! This post is 100% okay to reblog, and if anyone wishes to reblog it and go "This is also why I left the fandom", then I will happily hear you out. What I will NOT hear out, however, is any justification or defence of any of the harmful behaviours I have mentioned - I do not wish to hear it. Pack it in, and take it to 4Chan where you belong.

#ok to reblog #ok to rb #call of duty #cod #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2

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imgoingtofreakoutnow · 5 months

Text

hold me as the night goes by

Summary: Rolan finds you crying in the Ramazith's Tower and tries to comfort you

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: depiction of what might be a panic/anxiety attack, hurt/comfort, tiny bit of fluff

A/N: This is entirely self-indulgent, I just needed a hug from Rolan. Sorry for any possible grammatical mistakes ;P

Tagging: @tripleyeeet @elfinbloodbag @fictionobsession @adequate-superstar @sapphiccloud (if you don't want to be tagged, let me know <3)

\_/

As Rolan's wandering through the Ramazith’s Tower, in his slow but steady cataloguing of each and every book that fills the many shelves of the building, he hears a muffled sound coming from a nearby corner.

Cal and Lia both went out a while before to do a couple chores for Rolan – not imperative ones, a mere pretest to keep them away so that they wouldn’t bother him during the cataloguing. This excludes his two noisy siblings from the list of possible intruders. It can’t be a visitor either: he showed the last one out himself, and there isn't anyone foolish enough to roam the trapped halls by themselves.

Rolan silently closes the book he's checking and puts it back on the shelf, with the notebook where he’s annotating title, author and year of the various volumes. He moves towards the sound, an incantation rolling quietly on his tongue as he prepares himself to face a possible thief – and given the main contents of the tower, possibly a magic-user one.

When he finally cuts the corner, Rolan lets his hands fall to his side when he sees you, the light emanating from his palms disappearing as he places them on his hips.

"I'm glad you're enjoying the volumes," he sighs, not noticing the way you jump and moving closer to you, "but I'd rather you'd ask before taking them off the shelves. Some of these are very-"

His words die in his mouth when he notices you're not holding a book in your hands or anything that belongs to the tower. Just a creased handkerchief that you're gripping onto as if your life depended on it. Then his eyes move to your face.

For a moment, it's like he’s back in Lorroakan's study and the fists of his former master are hitting him again, cutting his breath in half and tearing his skin like sharp daggers. However, the longer he looks at your face, torn apart by streaks of tears and an unknown pain, the worse it feels. Invisible claws wrap tightly around his heart and dig deeply inside the beating muscle, like a knife through butter.

"What's wrong?"

"I-"

Your mouth flutters open but nothing else comes out. It only prompts more tears to run down your cheeks and for you to frantically wipe them away.

Rolan steps forward and raises his hand. He stops it before it moves to your cheek, instead placing it gently on your arm. Despite the misadventures you've shared together, you two still barely know each other. He has no right to touch you like that, it doesn’t matter if his desire might say differently.

"Did somebody hurt you?" he asks again, to which you shake your head, eyelids sewn together as you hold back a sob. "Then please, tell me how I can help."

You scoff, taking a useless breath as the sting in your eyes grows with the heaviness in your chest.

"I wish I knew," you utter in a pained chuckle, tears still hanging at the corner of your eyes. "But it hurts… and I don't even know why."

Your head falls as you cover your face, your palms pressing into your eyes to stop the tears and sadness that keeps building and building, as if it’s about to split you open.

Why can't you just be happy? You're alive, you're close to finding a cure for the tadpole, and yet why does everything hurt so much for seemingly no reason? Why can't you breathe? Why can’t you feel anything other than that despair that’s slowly eating you alive?

Why can't you just die already?

Your mind is completely lost, in the middle of a storm with no end in sight. All you want is for the world to stop spinning around you, for quietness.

Then you feel something. You focus on that, on the warmth that passes through your sleeves and the firm squeeze on your arm – the one thing keeping you from drifting away.

You lean into it – into him – and before you know it, your forehead hits Rolan's chest as your body is shaken by sobs.

Rolan stands frozen, unsure what to do as your hands claw to his robes. He's not used to physical touch; even with Cal and Lia, he still tenses when they pull him into a hug. This is no different.

But he can't ignore the pull he feels towards you, nor the tears that are still falling down your cheeks.

His arms wrap around you, tentatively pulling you in. You make no resistance, sinking into his touch as his hands rub along your back before finding its way to the name of your neck.

As his fingers gently caress your skin and short hair, your muscles slowly relax. Pressed against his chest, your breathing steadies and your lungs start working once again. The sadness is still there, gripping onto you like lice – just as annoying to get rid off – but the tears are slowly running out as you feel Rolan resting his chin on your head.

You open your mouth to say something but no words come to your tongue. You simply lean into him even more, listening to his slow heartbeat until the blood in your veins starts pumping in unison to his own.

“Is this… helping?”

You nod against his chest, somehow getting even closer to him. “You can let me go now, if you want.”

Rolan pulls back and you already miss his warmth. The comforting sound of his beating heart, mirroring yours. He doesn’t move too far, stopping just a few inches away from you, but after the previous closeness it feels like you’re miles apart. His hand still rests on the back of your neck while his eyes stare into yours with grave seriousness. And a hint of fear.

“Do you want me to?”

His golden irises dart away for a moment as the whisper leaves his mouth. Taking in a trembling breath, you suddenly realise what that closeness means. To him, to you, to the frail relationship you’ve built during the past weeks. Perhaps it’s not smart to endanger the connection with one of your strongest allies, however you can’t ignore the peace you felt when he was holding you, just moments before. A peace that’s still running through you as his fingers caress softly your skin

You shake your head, your fingers digging in his tunic and moving closer to him once more. Rolan pulls you back into his hug, not one second of hesitation, and you both revel in the newfound closeness.

“I’ll be here whenever you need me,” he speaks softly, his lips pressing gently on your head. “You’ll never have to worry about that.”

Closing your eyes, a small smile pulls your mouth. It might still not be enough to feel completely better, but it's a start.

#rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fic #annie writes

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wyattjohnston · 11 months

Text

let's finish what we started - quinn hughes

summary: you don't expect an invite to the lake house, and you certainly don't expect the events that take place.

note: this is part of @liquidflyer's bingo! i did not get a strict bingo and i'm sorry for that!

main character: feminine!reader

bingo squares: lake house + long distance + second chance + jealousy + (perceived) love triangle

word count: 2,029

You still in the middle of the aisle when a loud laugh drifted over the shelves, barely registering the disgruntled man who nearly walks into you.

Summer came a lot quicker than you’d expected it to.

Quickly regathering your wits, you grip the basket you’re carrying a little bit tighter and continue your shopping. You aren’t truly worried about the owner of the laugh, he’s harmless and a friend, it’s the possibility of who he’s with that has your heart beating just a little bit faster.

The beating gets harder as you turn into the next aisle, but it’s for nought when you see Luke and only Luke—you have no idea who or what had made him laugh so hard when nobody else is in sight.

As if he’s sensed your presence, Luke turns 180 degrees on a dime and stares you down. You raise one hand, an awkward attempt at a wave, and wait for the next part of his reaction.

It comes loudly, much to the dismay of the other shoppers.

“Sadie!”

He moves towards you at breakneck speed, clearing the space between you—nearly the entire length of the aisle—in no time at all and barely stops short of colliding with you.

“Hey, Luke. Welcome home,” you say, smiling sweetly. “Congrats on tearing it up in Jersey.”

“You watched?”

The surprise in his voice and the beaming smile on his face have you tilting your head, confused by his reaction.

“Where I could, yeah,” you say before adding, softly and sincerely, as if speaking to your own brother, “Course I did.”

Luke’s smile somehow manages to grow even larger and you’re hit with an intense fondness that you’ve forgotten you connect with him.

“You should come by the house.”

You snort, the sound unexpected even to yourself, and Luke frowned at your reaction.

“Is that really your invite to extend?” you clarify; always hating the way Luke’s face crumbles when you reject a plan of his. When anyone rejects a plan of his, truthfully.

He huffs, crossing his arms, and says rather gruffly, “They said I can ask whoever I want.”

“That almost definitely excluded their ex-girlfriends and you know it.” You hike up her basket, the weight of it too much to be standing in one place. Luke reaches for it; you shake your head.

“Sadie, please? Quinn won’t mind. Promise,” he begs, the pleading in his eyes making you purse your lips. “And the boys will be there, so you have to come see them.”

“The boys?” you ask, your entire body perking up at the thought. Longingly, you seek confirmation, “My boys?”

Luke nods, his head moving faster than you thought possible. “Some of them, yeah. They all float in and out, you know that.”

“Dirty, dirty pool,” you chastise. With a sigh you continue, “If you can get Quinn to text me and invite me himself then I’ll show up.”

He rattles on, saying that it’ll be so easy to get Quinn to text you, that you should keep your phone by your side (as if was ever far from you at all). You say goodbye at that, leaving him to whatever half-hearted shopping he’s doing so that you can continue your own.

You refuse to sit and wait for the text. Your life will not stop just because of a potential text from your ex-boyfriend—a text that you don’t expect to ever come. You go to work, cook dinner, play basketball and try not to think about Quinn at all—it’s been your routine since you broke up so it’s not exactly a hard ask.

Which is why you stare at your phone for no less than ten seconds when a text comes through from NO (Quinn) with an invite to stop by the house that night for dinner. Your first clear thought is that it’s so very Quinn to send an invite three hours before he expects you somewhere. Your next thought is that you’re very unprepared.

Three hours is usually plenty of time to get ready for something and yet you use every last minute of the three hours showering, shaving, plucking, dressing and making yourself up. Finding an outfit you're satisfied with does take longer than any other part of the afternoon, something you haven’t cared about since the break up. You opt for casual yet pretty, foregoing a bathing suit despite the lake, and psych yourself up.

The cars in the driveway feel endless, like every person the Hughes Brothers have ever known have been invited, and the long walk to the door is more daunting than it has ever been. Knocking on the door is foreign, too, when you’ve previously been able to enter freely—at one stage you even had a key to be there even if Quinn was in Canada.

Quinn’s the one to open the door, perhaps anticipating that it would be you, but his pause when he pulls it open has you taking a step back.

“You did text me, right? Luke didn’t just steal your phone?”

“I did,” Quinn says, shaking his head and standing aside to give you a path inside. “It’s good to see you again, Sadie. You look great.”

Neither say a word as Quinn leads them to the kitchen where Luke is unhappily dumping pre-mixed salad into bowls and Jack is shouting demands for barbecue utensils through the open door to the balcony.

Floating around the balcony, and heard from other areas of the house, are The Boys—a varied assortment of hockey players, some you don’t know and others who had been Luke’s bargaining chip.

Luke stops what he’s doing when he sees you, rushing forward to hug you and pull you away from Quinn, to drag you out to the balcony to see your former classmates in Nick and Nolan. You spare a quick glance over your shoulder at Quinn who stands firmly in place with his brows knitted together.

Being paraded out to The Boys (and surprisingly few girlfriends) isn’t how you expected the day to go but you don’t put up a fight against Luke or the many hugs that come your way. They must have been warned about your arrival because nobody looks shocked to see you, just happy and ready with waves or hugs. You’re delighted to see them; twelve months removed from graduation and from seeing many of the boys you considered friends through college, seeing them again is warming your heart.

You’re talking to Nolan about his year as captain, Luke chiming in every so often, when you catch Quinn’s eye across the deck. He’s watching her carefully, in a way he hasn’t since you were together. You know it well, jealousy written across every line of his face even if he would deny it vehemently if asked.

There’s nothing between you and Nolan, there never has been, and you’re just wanting to be filled in on the life you left behind in Ann Arbor when you graduated. Quinn struggled with your friendship, though, when he shipped off to Vancouver.

Maybe it’s the reason long distance didn’t work but you could only know that if Quinn had actually given you a reason.

Nolan catches Quinn looking because he throws his hand up in a dramatic wave, and Quinn turns around and leaves.

“You aren’t even together anymore,” Nolan says, like you don’t know the status of your relationship. “Can’t believe he still thinks I’m still a threat. If I was a threat, he wouldn’t have had a chance.”

You hum, knowing it's an old conversation that doesn’t need to be rehashed and let Nolan talk about what he wants to do now that he’s leaving UMich for good.

Food eventually reaches a state of being edible, though part of you does question the decision to let Jack man the barbecue, and everyone shifts around the too-small space to fill up their plates. The deck isn’t large enough to accommodate everyone, despite the large table that fills the area, so you take a minute to yourself and sit inside away from the noisy chatter.

Quinn is already sitting by himself at the dining table, his head over his phone and his food barely touched.

You sit down opposite him, placing your food on the table and waiting a few seconds for him to react, for him to acknowledge that you’re even there—that anyone is even there.

“Nolan and I are never going to happen. You know that.”

His head lifts, his chest heaving with a sigh. His phone hits the table with a thud and he leans back in his chair just to agree, morosely, “Yeah, I know.”

“Why’d you try to set him on fire with your eyes, then?”

It makes him go quiet, hanging his head again. Two years prior, you would have known exactly what he was thinking but it had been so long that you’d lost the ability—at least the ability to do it with any certainty.

“He got so much more time with you,” Quinn mumbles into his chest. “You’re here now and he still gets your time.”

“All you had to do was wait a few more months, Q, and you would have had all my time. You know that, too.”

“That kind of makes it worse, though, right? Knowing that I fucking overthought it and then it was all exactly as you said.”

It’s a confirmation you didn’t really want, and you have no idea how to respond so you start eating just for something to do. Quinn eats, too, though it takes him a minute to realise that the conversation isn’t going any further. It feels like no other meal you’ve had together, the awkwardness even incomparable to the early days of your relationship. The notion is upsetting, that even after so long apart you’re unable to even sit next to each other in comfortable silence—maybe you would be able to if Quinn’s jealousy hadn’t gotten the better of him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, barely audible over the noise that’s still carrying in from the deck from the group who are none-the-wiser.

You stare at your plate, carefully place your cutlery down and fold your hands in your lap.

An apology is what you’ve been waiting for, alongside the explanation that did little to make you feel any better, and yet a pit of anxiety forms in your stomach at the prospect of it finally happening. It hadn’t been what you were expecting when you showed up; you’d really just expected Quinn to pretend you weren’t around.

You draw your shoulders back and take a deep breath, lifting your head to look at him and await whatever it is that he’ll say next. It’s ethereal, almost, seeing him against the floor to ceiling glass windows, the lake and setting sun behind him and it settles something inside you. It doesn’t mean anything, of course, and doesn’t impact what he might say, it just takes her back to when they were together—when things were good.

“What does being sorry mean? What do you want the end game to be here?”

“A second chance?” The uncertainty was clear in his voice and in his face, his entire face screwing up as the words finished leaving his mouth.

You close your eyes, his words washing over you and seeping into every corner of your soul.

“It’s just going to be the same, though. Isn’t it?” you ask, weary, looking up at him again. “Because I won’t move to Vancouver immediately, and I’m not going to stop talking to my friends and—”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” he says, quickly, and fiercely.

You roll your eyes, “After the show you just put on when I was talking to Nolan? Why should I believe you? And I want to, Quinn. I really want to.”

He looks so hopeful, so sincere with the corners of his mouth tilting upwards and the late sun streaming in, illuminating him. You know with that, that it doesn’t matter what he says next because deep down you’ve already agreed to whatever he’ll propose.

tag list: @fallinallincurls @spine-buster @2manytabsopen @xcicix @sorryjustafangirl @senditcolton @shinyfalcon4 @guesswhoispathetic @laurenairay @ripepeach @jarmorie @p1nkbarbi3 @diary-of-jj @its-bitchin-belle-bitches @sssstarstruck @abcdefghiblog

add yourself to the tag list

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #homemade fic #fic: canucks

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cheecats · 7 months

Note

To soothe you from your Riverstar's Home trauma, how about you ramble about oneripple?

YOU'RE SO KIND FOR LETTING ME GO OFF ABOUT THIS TY TY 💞💞💞 I'm terrible at structuring logical/coherent rambles, so I'll just dump some thoughts I have (obv these exclude Riverstar's Home and are roughly how I'd like to play with their dynamic [give them to me NOW erins!!])

LONG POST UNDER CUT!

Obviously this is way before the mountain cats arrive. BIG FAN of the idea that River Ripple and his small circle at the time were the ones to help One Eye and baby Star Flower get back on their feet after the two lost the rest of their family to the sickness we see again in TBS (I imagine One Eye had already treated them with the Blazing Star, but the two were still so terribly weak and unwell after that.) The group find the two living inside a rotting hollow and approach them. One Eye is, naturally, EXTREMELY aggressive and reclusive at first — distressed from sickness, grief, and fear of losing his tiny daughter, for he hasn't been strong enough to feed them much. The other cats are nervous around him, unwilling to approach the tom for his sheer size and ferocity, even if he is weakened. But not River Ripple. He understands why he is acting this way, that his aggression is a defense mechanism to mask his fear, and ultimately wishes to convey to One Eye that he is not going to do anything to them without his explicit permission first: and he sticks to that promise! Every day he sits outside the makeshift shelter with food, asking permission to come inside, leaving prey, water and herbs at the entrance if One Eye is asleep or simply says no. He never challenges it, and simply obliges and wishes him and Star Flower well. It is through this gradual process that One Eye begins to somewhat relax around River Ripple, allowing ONLY him to come inside, communicating his and Star Flower's needs and whatnot (Vulnerability moment!!)

Although she was too young to remember, once she began to recover, Star Flower was always excited when River Ripple visited, coming up to him, chasing his tail, and telling him all about her big adventures (all just made up ones, but River Ripple would always listen and ask her questions about them!) One Eye initially doesn't take well to Star Flower going up to the near-stranger, pulling her back or growling at River Ripple to back off. But over time, he sees that the risk is minimal, and the two never leave his sight while interacting. Besides, it stops Star Flower pestering him to entertain her for just a bit (also I just find this funny because adult Star Flower can barely recall this and River Ripple is just looking at her like omg you've gotten so tall now!!! I remember when you used to tell me how you beat up monsters and dogs 🤭💙!!)

SO LIKE skipping the recovery period, and now One Eye and Star Flower are more present outside … One Eye falls first. He initially is bothered by this, still grieving the loss of his mate and their other kits moons ago. But the feeling is nonetheless there. It's complicated, because at first he had every intention of claiming the area for himself and pushing River Ripple & his friends out… but as much as he tried to resent River Ripple's philosophy, there was just something so…. soothing yet powerful in the way he carried himself. He realises he actually enjoys his company, which is also weird for him! One Eye has lived among opportunistic cats his entire life, learning that being aggressive and domineering is the only way to make it, and that the passive and meek were destined to be crushed. But River Ripple is a curious example to him. He is gentle and patient, but completely capable of establishing boundaries and shutting down veins of discussion that belittle or threaten him. He would call out One Eye's bullshit every single time, but in a way that didn't escalate the situation. His heart was soft and his identity was strong in that. Kindness without weakness??? In MY Warrior Cats??? Impossible??? (Erins: yes it's impossible. 🗿)

Anyway, montage of One Eye giving terrible rizz and making a complete fool of himself 90% of the time — getting frustrated and defensive while everyone else is like🧍‍♂️. River Ripple is confused at first, but slowly begins to catch on. He finds it both amusing and sweet… and yeah! He realises he does feel the same way! He always found One Eyes protectiveness of Star Flower warming, found his intelligence to be engaging, and he genuinely believes there is good in the tom's heart (me shaking my head slowly.)

First date? Swimming lesson! One Eye is terrible! He's half drowned, scrabbling onto River Ripple every .2 seconds, and hates how pathetic it makes him look. But River Ripple is patient, assuring him that they can always try again some other time, and that it took him a while to get used to it too <:)

^ I feel like it's important to emphasize that One Eye genuinely feels like he can relax around River Ripple. That this cat doesn't have any ulterior motivation to trick him or take from him. Nor' does River Ripple ever belittle his failures or negative traits. They simply exist, are acknowledged, and pass like water.

But of course there is difficulty in how these two's ideologies clash. Everyone's beliefs are different, but theirs almost completely counter. River Ripple's philosophy is peaceful. To live and let live, and be custodians of the land. One Eye's on the other hand is to conquer. To take, to fight for what you need, and to claim the land. While there is room to accommodate each other, they are both two strong individuals with strong identities. Neither is going to abandon their philosophy, and when they clash so strongly, it can make it impossible for them to see eye to eye on issues. Long term, that would be hard. I believe that is why they'd go their separate ways. It doesn't work out. But that is okay. For that period of time, there was coexistence, there was connection, and there was love.

TL:DR. Very brief romance! A spark of passion that burns then fizzles out when One Eye leaves to be on his own (with Star Flower) once again. River Ripple, of course, says One Eye can return any time if he needs anything. Even for a short visit. He never does. For everywhere the tom goes, there is destruction and disruption, and River Ripple's home is like an oasis to be left untouched in One Eye's head.

Even as One Eye's reputation worsens, they still feel for each other. River Ripple especially. He knows what One Eye is capable of, what he has done, and how downright hideous he can be. But it's hard not to miss the memory of him. (Cue the mountain cats like PLEASE stop talking about this asshole in flowery prose he is trying to kill us!!)

BONUS: Not really relevant here, but their presence in the narratives respectively as the punisher/destroyer vs the voice of reason… ooogh, sun that burns, moon that soothes e.t.c but that deity kind of vibe would be more relevant once they're spirits in the Dark Forest & Starclan!

I could go on forever but that's the meat of it. Ty ty i hope everyone enjoyed and its not terribly incoherent ✌️

#random-multifandom-nightmare #cheez rambles #cheez design #my art #warrior cats #one eye dotc #one eye wc #river ripple #riverstar #star flower #oneripple #// OLD MAN ROMANCE!!!#// dudes who are really normal <- me #// even if you dont read this i hope u guys enjoy the doodle lsdkjgklds #// thanks again!! <3

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touteslespetiteschosess · 6 months

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Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

Plot: Kylian had it all figured out, he'd finally move away from PSG after one more year in red and blue, so why did this random woman have to come and ruin everything for him?

Warnings: Kylian being very mildly sexist (for character growth of course<3)

Word Count: 1276

Masterlist

"But you leaked it?"

"No, I didn't."

Kylian's face was a flat line, though with every word she said, his lips inched closer to a frown. His hazel eyes were fixed on her, sat across from him.

"Your team did and given that the main man in your team is your father, I'd say you were well aware it was going to happen."

Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, each strand neatly slicked back. Surely that hurt her head, maybe it restricted blood flow to her brain- maybe that's why she was such a dick!

His life had been perfectly planned out, his career finally making sense, looking like it was going somewhere. Then, the new manager had arrived and so had his stupid, new PR head. What had been wrong with the old head of PR? Nothing! Sure, he was elderly, out of touch, and not very good at his job and his replacement was young and sharp and beautiful and... that wasn't relevant to her work.

How dare she barge in here in her six-inch heels and her tight, tight blouse and tarnish his name? Who even needed heels that high for work?

He was Kylian Mbappé; he'd given everything for this club and for his country and when he'd written that letter all he'd wanted was a peaceful exit from the team. Now, not only the Parisian media but all media in France and worldwide hated him. Maybe the only people who liked him right now were Spanish journalists.

"Kylian, I admire you greatly. You are a brilliant player and I know your worth." Enrique, the coach, said from his seat beside y/n, "So do my superiors and surely you're aware that we really can't let you go on a free transfer."

"I didn't ask to go on a free transfer, I just said I am not willing to extend my contract." he defended.

"But you want to play until the end of the season when your contract runs out, and no team in their right mind would therefore buy you weeks before you become a free agent."

Y/n spoke quickly yet clearly, sure in her words and sure in herself. When she finished, her lips, painted a dark rose, settled in a line, as she blinked once, twice, her long lashes fluttering.

"Last time I checked, dealing with transfers wasn't in your job description," he bit back.

"No, I'm in charge of the team's image which your transfers are really tarnishing, so you've kind of dragged them to my attention yourself."

"I told you, I didn't leak the letter."

"Oh, well if you say you didn't, you must be telling the truth. I will get my goons to slowly torture each of your teammates until one of them admits to the crime."

Her composed watch didn't shift from him. He glared at her. If looks could kill.

"That won't be necessary, Miss Briggs. Kylian, we have two options here." Enrique said, calmly, "Option one, you and your posse agree to start negotiations with us for a contract extension and-"

"I choose option two." Kylian cut in, bluntly, scowling at the entire room.

"Great. So, option two, we'll exclude you from the squad for the Japan tour and you can spend the Summer training with the loft." Enrique declared, standing up and gathering his files from the desk, "Great talk. Very productive."

As the coach exited, his team leaving with him, Kylian sat there dumbfounded. The only person who remained in the room was y/n, as she jotted something down in her notebook. Finishing writing, she snapped the cover shut and slotted her pen into her blouse's chest pocket. His eyes followed it. Glancing up, she watched him watching her for a couple of seconds before she stood up.

"So, that's it, I'm just fucking cut from the squad?" he seethed.

She nodded, easily humming, "Mhm. What did you expect?"

"You know I love this club. You and Enrique can't just march in here and bench me. I'm Kylian Mbappé."

"I didn't bench you." she scoffed, starting for the door.

"Please, I don't know who you are but for some reason, Enrique listens to what you say and I know you had a hand in this. I don't know why he trusts your opinions since you don't even know football, but stay out of my way, okay?"

She stopped dead in her tracks, spinning around slowly, her mouth slightly agape, though her lips curled up ever so slightly in a way that told him he was a dead man walking.

"Luis respects what I say because I'm good at my job. I know that you're not used to working alongside women and maybe your fragile ego can't handle being booted out of the squad but you brought this on yourself, Mbappé. I don't work for you or Luis, I work for Paris Saint-Germain and I'll do what's best for the club. So, here's my advice, from one master of their field to another, get your shit together and sign a new contract or come September time you might find yourself at a club you like a whole lot less than this one. How does the Qatari league sound? Your whole internalised chauvinism thing will go over a treat there. Like one of the locals already!"

With that, she stormed out of the door, her hips swaying, and he was truly alone in the huge meeting room. Hesitantly, he pulled out his phone and quickly punched in a Google search: chauvinism definition.

chauvinism: excessive or prejudiced support for one's own cause or group, in particular male prejudice against women

He frowned, surely that was a bit far. He didn't hate her because she was a woman. He hated her because she was ruining his life. That had nothing to do with her gender. Well, maybe his burning desire for her contributed to his hatred. He'd never hated the old head of PR this much and maybe that was because he was old and wrinkled and didn't wear blouses that tight or skirts that tight or watch him with eyes like that and-

No, he wasn't attracted to her. Well, not like that. Yes, she was a very attractive woman, that was a fact, but he knew lots of attractive women. He wasn't attracted to her, he could just appreciate that she was, well, attractive and- God, what was he doing? Why were his thoughts spiralling like this, perv?

Maybe he just hated her because she was loud and arrogant and seemed to think Kylian was the enemy and that in vanquishing him, she was doing Paris, nay France, a great service. Noble warrior.

Well, she'd made a big mistake.

Maybe journalists and fans would turn against him for a couple of weeks, caught up in the excitement of his gripping transfer saga. That didn't matter because at the end of the day, he was Kylian Mbappé. He'd lead France to that trophy in 2018, even if he'd been a teenager, and he'd scored three goals and a fucking penalty in the world cup final after that. The country wouldn't turn against him for long, that was for sure.

She'd tried to turn him into the enemy but all she'd really done was make the biggest mistake of all. She'd made herself his enemy, and she'd sorely regret that.

Groaning, he stood up, his chair scraping against the floor as he did and stormed out of the meeting room. He wasn't leaving and he wasn't signing that new contract. Nobody could make him: not Enrique, not Al-Khelaifi, and most certainly not y/n.

Masterlist Chapter 2

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappé #mbappé #mbappe #football #psg #paris saint germain #kylian x you #kylian x reader #kylian fanfic #kylian imagines #kylian #kylian mbappe x reader #y/n #equipe de france #footballer

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yuikomorihotline · 14 days

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𝔖𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰

Pairing: Shuu and Yui (Not shipping them)

Trigger warnings: Waterboarding, eye pains, sinister implications (excluding rape and sexual assault), not lovey dovey by any means.

Notes: I'm not used to writing Diaboys, so forgive me if Shuu's character seems extremely off. There may be mistakes, so my apologies in advance.

Word count: 1,504

Shuu disappeared somewhere and disappeared for the entire night and was no where to be found. Yui searched for him in his most frequented places, like his room, the couches, simply any nook he could fit his slender frame into.

At this point, she was worried that something had happened to him… Sure, she was very used to bumping into him at random points during the night, but she couldn't find him at all. Which was odd, because he'd simply demand blood, and be indifferent to her when she'd adjure him to cease his torments.

That kind of routine.

There was a quiet beach near the Sakamaki mansion, it was a little grim looking. But it had a small rockpool with dead crustaceans, still clinging to the edged rocks that would cause one a great discomfort if stepped on. There was a depressing lack of fauna, even seagulls never showed up.

Not even their cries could be heard.

Yui thought she'd check that beach, it was only a ten minute walk away, and since it wasn't necessarily running away or avoiding anyone, it should be fine… Right?

She'd deal with the consequences later, she just wanted to find Shuu.

It was the dead of night, and the tides at the beach were high. But the moon watching over the ink black waters was so calm and mysterious, the ice cold water looked thicker than blood and possessed a serene evil to it during this time.

Ice cold eyes and serenely cruel… That reminded her of Shuu.

Beautiful, large, and mysterious.

He was like the waves in a way, calm and low during the day, but seemingly on the hunt and significantly more active during the night.

"Shuu! Shuu, are you here?!"

Yui's voice was echoing off the cliffs and fluttering elsewhere, but she didn't think that was enough to wake up Shu, since she was convinced that he was sleeping.

The young lady went to walk into the darkness of the ocean… No specific reason, she just wanted to feel the soothing cold on her legs. Which were thankfully unwounded, otherwise the salt would've burned against the impurities.

She strolled with the ocean by her side, the salty water occasionally veiling her feet with the ink like substance. Yui's footprints were imprinted onto the rough sand, and she didn't look behind her to see if they vanished, because in a way, those footprints reminded her of how she (literally and figuratively) needed to watch her every step.

They'll simply fade at the movement of a tide.

Before she knew it, she stopped calling his name and was above knee deep in the black water, just walking across the long shore, basking in the windy night air and under the moon and stars' watchful light. She stood still, with the cold nipping and brushing against her sore neck pleasantly, staring at the horizon that seemed inexistent at night, the line between Heaven and Earth being perfectly welded together.

It was so beautiful.

Can't she just stay in the ocean forever and watch the Earth change its funeral veil to a wedding one? Night and day always seemed like that to Yui, like a bride turning into a widow. She didn't know herself why she made that analogy, but still, it seemed fitting.

The waves seemed angrier, like they didn't want an unworthy and meek human like herself to dirty it with her skin. They crashed against her slender legs, almost making her fall into the shallow waters, which would've made her laugh at her own ignorance.

She felt peaceful for the first time in years… If only she could turn into seafoam and simply be floated away by the furious tides. Melting into seafoam would be... Heavenly.

Oh right, she had to find Shuu.

"Shuu! Come on, this is no place to- Shuu?!"

She saw some bubbles ascending from the bottom of one of the shallow sectors of the shore, and widened her eyes.

"What are you doing in there?!", She gasped, and attempting to pull the very heavy male out, making her fall over many times.

She grunted and tried to drag him out of the ocean, despite him being nothing but uncooperative. Which obviously was very annoying for her. Shuu's depressingly dull eyes opened slightly, and he already looked unimpressed with her for dragging him out of what he wanted to be his 'watery grave'.

"Oh… it's you."

"Don't give me that, I was worried sick about you! You could've been hurt, or killed-"

Shuu just stared at her like she was the dumbest person in the entire stratosphere. The kind of look of judgement and disappointment that would make one question their self worth.

"Calm down...", Shuu huffed, while laying down on the wet sand and tucking his hands behind his head. "I hate this beach, I don't know why I even came here."

"Don't tell me that it's annoying for me to-"

"Exactly. You're not as dumb as you look."

Yui simply stared at Shuu in bewilderment.

He didn't even let me finish my sentences!

"You're always so predictable… Now go away and let me sleep."

Yui just stared at him blankly, completely annoyed with his lack of manners for her. Not even letting her finish her sentences, how churlish of him… She'd think that he'd be more of a gentleman, but she learned that she shouldn't even have expectations on manners when it comes to these guys. Reiji is polite but in his own Reiji way. Also known as being passive aggressive, almost like a salty old man.

Yui sighed and walked back into the ocean, she found Shuu so she really had little to worry about now. Yui could taste the salt of the ocean just by smelling it, the strong scent transferring from her nose to the back of her throat. It made her want to cough, but not badly.

I want to walk further…

She mindlessly walked further into the ocean, until she was up to her waist in ink.

It was so cold, and it made her teeth start to chatter because of the bad temperature drop. But it was fine, it was really nice, and Yui half expected to just turn into seafoam the second she turned her mind off.

It was hard to do that when she felt Shuu's piercing gaze on her. Honestly, she felt like a rabbit sometimes, an animal that has such an unpredictable existence. They either die horrifically or… She didn't want to think about it.

Then again, rabbits leave their burrows for their survival, so she wasn't completely perturbed by the concept.

"You're a pain, you know what?", Shu murmured, then pulling her by the back of her shirt, and dragging her back to shore while she's on her back, the grains from the sand and rocks stabbing into her.

"W-What do you think you're doing?!", She spluttered, her head was going under water occasionally and making it hard for her to breathe properly. Yui was gasping for air, and Shuu was choosing to move slower so he could teach her a lesson.

Yui could see the blur of the stars and moon through the water that seemed like it wanted to kill her and to assist Shuu with her suffering. Despite her eyes burning from a combination of salt and residue sand from movement, she still wanted to see the sky.

She felt such betrayal from something she found so beautiful.

A powerful aspect of the Earth whose Lord was the moon. Something completely out of the reach of the ocean, perhaps the high tides at night were the oceans trying to reach out to the moon. Perhaps its lost love. The celestial beauty of the stars, moon, and ocean should be out of Yui's reach because she'll end up wanting them more and more…

He smirked at her suffering, and was willing to take advantage of her inability to swim if he had to. Just in case if she didn't learn her lesson and in Shuu's mind, she was stupid so she could never learn from her undeserved punishments.

Shuu tossed her onto the sand, making her produce guttural coughs, and wiping her eyes from the burning of salt in eyes, making her sclera bloodshot and red.

"Why did you drag me out? You're really awful for denying me peace.", Shuu sighed, while smirking as if he had the devil's intentions.

Which he did, by the way.

He could've done anything to her, the most vile of atrocities, but he simply didn't feel like it. He was in a decent mood, and decent moods were what were in a way would decide whether she was to live or die.

Yui looked to her side, and saw that her footprints from earlier were no longer there on the sand.

How unfortunate.

#i really hope people like thissss #diabolik lovers #yui komori #shuu sakamaki #my writing

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myfckingnameisnuwanda · 4 months

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Seal-Shark Jerky (Zukka)

Chief!Sokka, ExiledPirate!Zuko AU

Sokka stays behind in the village to help his people and only Katara and Aang go away.

In the Tribe it's common knowledge that Sokka loves seal-shark jerky. It's his favorite food. Everyone, including Zuko, a pirate known by the name Blue Spirit, feared in the Four Seas by every Fire Nation stamped ship and revered by any outcast, who likes to spend the crews breaks and recoveries in the lands of the young Chief.

Or so he thought, until...

"I hate jerky" admitted Sokka in the silence of the night, Zuko to be the only ear in miles "I've never said that outloud before..." he laughed shakily "when I first started taking care of the Tribe, when I was around ten-... Oh, by La, I was so young" a hand in his mouth, incredulous.

Zuko couldn't even imagine the pressure, the fear.

"A-anyways, back then, the food started depleting, because all the hunters had gone to war and nobody knew how to hunt. At least not well enough. Later on, people learned"

Sokka shifted, avoiding his eyes, but unable to stop himself.

"Everyone, the children more than anyone else, hated jerky, which was the most abundant source of nutrients, and almost the only one, for a while" a sigh, reminiscent "I knew that I, being the closest to their age, excluding Katara, and having been left in charge by the Chief, my father, that they had begun to see me even more as their role model" he closed his eyes, a small smile touching his lips "So I used that to my advantage"

Zuko couldn't take his eyes away from the young Chief. Even if he had wanted to, which he didn't.

"So I started telling everyone how jerky was the best thing ever invented, salty and impossible to chew as it is. That winter was the first, and the only one, in which jerky almost went out" a soft laugh, Zuko blushes, and bullshits himself into believing it's because of the cold air "The next winter, there was more variety of food, but the Tribe wholeheartedly believed I went crazy over jerky, and gave me their jerky rations all the time, until jerky was the only thing I ate for a while"

A rush of cold air goes through, and Sokka closes the gap between them completely. Zuko is the warmest thing in the entire continent, at that moment.

"And so, they ate other things, and left the jerky to me. I think eating so much jerky may be the only reason why my fangs are so sharp" He laughed, from deep in his belly, this time. He wasn't sad anymore "Now, when I eat it, I'm happy, because it means someone else is eating something better. So yes, jerky is my favorite food, and I hate the taste of it"

Could Zuko actually fall more in love with that idiot?

It seemed like he could.

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softxsuki · 10 months

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Hey Softxsuki; nice to meet you, I'm

Mitsuya's Babygirl.

I don't know if you consider this urgent request, But if you are okay with it.

Can I get a request with female sick reader who has vary bad allergies such as dry stuffy nose, painful ear ache at same time drainage in the ear into the throat , arthritis pain in the upper body, vary sore throat and upset stomach.

On top being vary emotional when not well and being vary clingy too.

Reader wants lots of love and care.

Reader wants Shinichiro Sano, Manjiro Sano, and Izana Kurokawa to stay by her side. She just to cuddles and by cuddle I mean being right up against them in bed grip their shirt because it bring Reader comfort. Reader also would like to get get forehead kisses, and to be care for.

I do not feel too good; bad allergies, dry stuffy nose, painful ear ache and drainage in the ear which cause my throat to hurt, arthritis pain in the shoulder,neck,part of my arm too, and upset stomach.

On top be vary emotional right now, I don't know why, but when I don't feel good; I get vary emotional and cry for no reason. I want some one to care for me and cuddles in bed, give me forehead kisses, and let me grip Their shirt for comfort unlit I fell asleep. 🤒🤧🥺

Shinichiro and Mikey (Separate) Comforting Reader When She's Sick

Pairings: Shinichiro x Fem!Reader, Mikey x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of feeling sick/not feeling well

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 630

Summary: In which Shinichiro and Mikey comfort you through your sickness that you got from your allergies

[A/N: Hey! Nice to meet you! Thank you for your patience! Unfortunately I don't write for Izana, so I had to exclude him. I also just recently added Shinichiro to my writing list (I still don't know a ton about him) so apologies if his part is shorter or not as accurate as I'd like it to be. I hope this does give you some comfort though. I hope you're feeling better, but if not, I'm sending you all my well wishes that you get better soon! Enjoy <3]

Shinichiro:

Gets so nervous

Thinks you’re about to die and debates whether he should take you to the hospital or not but just let him know that you’re this way because of your allergies, that should calm him down

He’s at your service–whatever you need he’ll bring it to you

Doesn’t really want to get sick as well, but if you ask him to stay near you and allow you to cling to him while you were sick, he wouldn’t say no

So he sucks it up and decides to accept the sickness that will eventually befall him as well

It pains him to see you in so much discomfort and pain, he knows what it feels like to be unwell of course, and wishes you didn’t have to go through the same thing

Internally starts to freak out when you cry because he genuinely doesn’t know how to help you feel better other than give you the medicine you have in your house and hold you close

He’d run his fingers through your hair as you cling to his shirt and whine in pain as you’re half asleep

Really, he just wants you to sleep as much as possible so you don’t have to be in pain

Relief floods through him whenever your eyes finally close and your grip on his shirt loosens

He takes your hand in his and holds it, staying by your side the whole time, praying for you to get better soon

Mikey:

I picture him to also be clingy so he welcomes your clinginess during your sick days

Work? What is that? You’re entirely his until you’re feeling better

Doesn’t care that you could get him sick, he welcomes all the germs to infect him as well, it would be proof of his love and care for you

He can’t cook for the life of him so he probably calls Draken or Mitsuya over so they can buy you something soothing to eat that might help you feel better

He WOULD go get it himself, but he doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or leave you alone–not even for a second

When they arrive with your light,soothing food like soup or porridge, he doesn’t let them get a glimpse of you, just opens the door a crack, takes the bag of food, mumbles a quick thanks, and then closes the door again

Back in bed, he helps you sit up a bit and feeds you the food he got

It’s painful to swallow from your sore throat, but he urges you to take at least a few bites, knowing the importance of having something in your stomach when you’re sick

Afterwards, he invites you into his arm and you both cling to each other

Fear settles in the pit of his stomach at your condition, though he tries to rationalize with himself that it’s just a cold because of your allergies, he’s always scared of losing you

You pull on his heart strings as tears start to fall from your eyes–you’re the only one who has this effect on him and he’s mad that he can’t do much to help you other than remain by your side

So as you drift off to sleep in his arms, your hand still tightly gripping his shirt for comfort, he presses a kiss to your forehead and keeps his eyes on you

Literally stays up all night watching you, putting a finger under your nose to make sure you’re still breathing

He’s tense the whole night until you awaken the next day and reassure him that you’re feeling a lot better, only then would he be able to fall asleep, knowing you’ll be okay and there when he awakens again

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 6/13/2023

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amethystfairy1 · 21 days

Note

For TT, can we have a bit more info about mer culture and where Scott is coming from before he ended up on the old continent? I absolutely love the way you write hybrids, and how much effort you put into the world building of their background and cultures and behaviours. Oooh also, while I'm asking questions, do the hybrids in TT have courtship the way they do in TTSBC? Because that one is somewhat relevant for a few of them.

Oooooooo ok sure!

Let's break down Mer Culture in Traveling Thieves yayyyy!

First of all, the Mer Kingdom and Mer culture is matriarchal! Scott is the son of the Queen of the Mer and one of her concubines/performers. The Queen and other powerful women of noble standing typically have multiple husbands and also there is a very strong courtly culture of performance, and the role of the concubine is very influential in this society. However, this is where the sort of stigma against Siren Spells comes from! Scott inherited his abilities for water magic from his Mom, the magic of the royal bloodline is very powerful which is why Scott is also very powerful and natural with water magic! He inherited his ability to use Siren Spells from his Dad, but Siren Spells are seen as something only used by concubines/performers...it's not something befitting of a royal child, even an illegitimate one like Scott.

Speaking of! If we're talking about Scott and his upbringing, I want to get rid of any notions I'm sure people are assuming that because he was an illegitimate child he was treated poorly, he wasn't! He had a lot of half-siblings and all of them got along decently well, and his parents also had a reasonably healthy and cooperative relationship! Scott was still excluded sometimes, for example he wasn't allowed to show his face at courtly proceedings or performances, but some of his older siblings would occasionally help him hide in the curtains or something so he could watch his Dad perform!

Scott wasn't allowed to practice Siren Spells, because his Mom raised him, as she did all of her male children, to eventually be married off or take up political posts, and both of Scott's parents agreed it would be better for his prospects if no one ever knew that he was capable of using Siren Spells. That doesn't stop him from sneaking off to practice them in secluded areas, but he never received any official training so that's why he's pretty bad with them.

Also also! I wanna describe the Mer Kingdom a bit! Because while I do plan to do some flashbacks from Scott's POV I'm not entirely sure if we'll ever actually go there within the timeline of Traveling Thieves.

Basically think Lizzie's Empires S1 base 😆

AND BEFORE YOU ASK NO LIZZIE IS NOT THE OCEAN QUEEN IN THIS SHE IS NOT SCOTTS MOM NO WE AREN'T DOING THAT 😭

It's just that her base inspires how I think of the Mer Kingdom, like a bunch of towers that emerge from the water but are constructed both above and below water. Also it is within a series of atolls and coral reefs so lots of small islands are all around too. While the Mer can breathe underwater all of their homes and such are watertight and so while they swim place to place when they're inside it's dry and they breathe air, so it's not like Atlantis-style or anything. A lot of buildings are also on top of the islands or build from the shallower ocean shelf and then rising up out of the water. With the Royal Palace being right in the middle of the largest atoll of course!

Scott, as you might've been able to guess, perhaps, from what he said when Jimmy said he was in love with him, was running away from an arranged marriage. And the sad part was it wasn't even technically a marriage. Again, Scott is an illegitimate child, he's the son of the Queen, yes, but he's not a prince. He was raised like one, educated like one, and more or less treated like one with a few exceptions (like how he couldn't attend court) but he is not a prince.

That means by Mer societal convention he can't marry high-class nobility. So the noblewoman he's arranged with, he's technically meant to go be one of her concubines, similar to how his own Father is to his Mother. That doesn't necessarily mean anything sexual by default, but it does basically relegate him to being passed around for his pretty face and his bloodline. It would be a pretty luxurious life, all things considered, and he was also raised fairly spoiled all his life, but even still...Scott's not the type who would just pliantly go along with being a pawn for his Mother to use politically. Plus it really pisses him off because after all these years of being told to hide the fact he could use Siren Spells like his Father and not being allowed to practice them, or learn how to perform like his Father does, all of a sudden his Mother decides to give him away as a concubine instead of marrying him to someone within the mid-tier of courtly society whom Scott would actually be allowed to wed. Scott in this AU really looks up to his Dad, and he also looks very very similar to him, much more so than his Mother, which is also why he's desired for his beauty even amongst Mer. His Dad is the Queen's favorite performer, so you can imagine he's gorgeous as well, and yet after living his whole life being told he had to distance himself from being seen as similar to his Father, all of a sudden he's expected to become a concubine just like him? Without any of the training or practice or skills that his Father has? That's ridiculous! So yeah, Scott was furious and he and his mother had it out in a terrible fight.

Last thing on this! I wanna make it clear that this doesn't mean Scott hates his mother or even has a bad relationship with her! He was actually on very good terms with her, which made the news that he was going to be given away as a concubine all the more shocking. So he took off in the middle of the night after this fight with nothing but the clothes on his back...he wasn't necessarily planning on running away for good, he was just upset and trying to get away and get some space to collect this thoughts, but he went a little too close to the mainland shore, to close to the waters where humans trawl, and...well, we know what happened to him from there.

As for courting ritual, they don't have them in Traveling Thieves the way that they do in TTSBC! It's more that they have certain things that require a level of intimacy, not necessarily romantic obviously, so if a hybrid lets you do it, it's a strong sign that they trust you and believe you care about them. Examples of this being: Preening Avians wings or brushing a dog hybrids hair!

Hope this was fun for ya! Sorry for the long turn-around on this ask, I wanted to really think about it and make sure I gave ya a good response that was lined up with the AU! 💖

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #traffic smp #worldbuilding #traveling thieves au #dark fantasy #scott smajor #empires smp

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