#{ verse: functional vampire }
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in honor of my fatphobic anon i'm starting fat bear week in February pls enjoy this snippet from my plotless steve and bucky go to bdsm summer camp fic - Not Safe For Reading Around Your Grandma. also Fury always has a pocketful of colorful butterfly barrettes as a general rule.
The Avengers all talk over each other during the meal, spill food, more than one bottom gets thrown over the table or someone’s knee for a swat or two. As they disperse, the Subs on KP start putting away lunch under Sam’s directions.
“Cleanup on aisle eleven, nesty slick spill!” Scott calls as the chairs around Bucky and Steve are pulled back and the glistening grass beneath them is discovered.
Steve’s combing his hair with a fork while everybody else laughs. Bucky takes the fork away and puts it down, then stands up with him in a cradle. Bucky carries him back to the inflatable couch and its seating area and puts him down in his kiddie pool puddle of pussy juice, where he giggles and splashes it.
“Hey, don’t waste that,” Bucky scolds. “Now, stay.”
Steve instead squeals as he tries to climb out, so Bucky swats gently him on the head.
“Stay! Nobody’s gonna be here to watch you!”
“I’ll babysit,” Fury offers, taking a seat with a cigar and a whiskey. “C’mon over to Gramps, kiddo.”
Steve squeals again, then clambers out of the pool and crawls over to Fury, trilling. He curls up by his knee to receive pets to his long, pink-highlighted tresses and fluffy curtain bangs, now dry from the hot tub, petting his pretty, pudgy belly. Bucky thanks Fury and turns back to their RV, ducking inside and heading for the second bedroom he and Steve are in. He squeezes between the bed and the wall, lamenting the lack of consideration for fat people in making this thing, and opens an upper cabinet. He takes down a battery-operated, waterproof massage wand, Barbie pink per Steve’s purchasing, then squeezes back out. He exits the RV and finds a couple of new faces in the waterproof chairs around the kiddie pool as well as Bill back on the pink sofa. Fury has braided some of Steve’s hair into thin strands and fastened each at the top and end with the little butterfly clips he always carries around in his pockets; he’s finishing one as Bucky walks up.
“Howdy, friend,” Bill says.
“Hi, I’m Daisy,” one of new people introduces, a girl in a 2000s-era scene punk schoolgirl uniform. “This is Grant, my boyfriend.”
Grant salutes some, the logo for the 75th Army regiment showing under the edge of his t-shirt sleeve. Bucky salutes back then hooks his thumb in his Sheriff badge belt buckle beneath his very generous beer gut.
“You’re lookin’ at what bein’ outta the Rangers for ten years and havin’ a sweet tooth does t’a ya,” he says. “That and a lotta pussy, pussy with a luxury vintage.”
“For eight years, all-access!” Steve confirms cheerfully.
#steve rogers#bucky barnes#stucky#captain america#marvel#winter soldier#mcu#pre serum steve#fat bucky barnes#fat steve rogers#chubby bucky barnes#chubby steve rogers#nick fury#no powers au#modern no powers#bucky is dressed up in fancy leather chaps and cowboy boots with spurs and a black stetson btw#with big round wooden plugs and also wolf teeth dangling earrings#steve is wearing a cow micro bikini that doesn't actually function as a bikini#considering there are holes in the top and the bottom triangle is like 2 inches tall#and doesn't even cover his seat#also bucky is a vampire of sorts for this fic#not a supernatural vampire the human kind#oh also also for this scene steve is tripping balls on acid#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#alpha/omega#alpha/beta/omega au#alpha/beta/omega verse#nesting#heat/rut#mating cycles/in heat
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Hermitcraft / Life Series Fic Recs
Because I love so many of them...
I'll split the fics into completed and updating fics, and try to only recommend currently updating fics (i.e., not abandoned). I'm going to write a little about why I like each fic and what the general vibes are - so this is also a kind of review I guess?
I've tried to @ the authors if they have a public tumblr. Sorry to anyone who didn't want to be tagged, I can remove any @ if you ask (or if I have embarrassingly tagged the wrong person). Anyway, enjoy, and I appreciate reblogs because I want as many people to see these fics as possible!!
This ended up being incredibly long so I'm putting a divider here. Click to keep reading!!! Also, fair warning: shipping ahead! Some fics will have mild sexual content, please read the tags if you are unsure <3
Updating Fics
I have already recommended Help Me To Breathe, lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart), and There Are Monsters Nearby in this post, so I won't explain why I like them a second time, but definitely check them out!!
Death's A Good Gig by @mawofthemagnetar is probably going to be finished by the time this post gets to you, reader, but I'm putting it here anyway. It's short and sweet, one of my favourite representations of Zedaph (or, Zedeath) I've read, and just a joy to experience. If you like grim reapers and discussions of unions, this one is for you. Also I need more Zedaph in my life.
Look, I'm Sorry, Please Stop Scaring Everyone by @cat-in-the-desert reminds me a lot of a particular TV drama I liked when I was younger, which followed a similar premise. This fic follows Mumbo (vampire) and Grian (ghost) as they get up to various housemate shenanigans and meet their local magic-expert and salesman Scar. This fic is fun, but still includes a nice amount of Feelings and hinted-at Angst which I really love. It's lighthearted, but never boring.
It Hurts To Hope by Inquillitory is my favourite of the "Grian crash lands into Hermitcraft and causes problems for everyone" genre. Seeing how many fics there are with that premise, I think that says a lot. It handles Grian's weird Watcher stuff really well. Honestly, I just want to know what happens next!
killing the boy in the tv by @raspberrystruck is like a sickfic on steroids. If you want Grian with so much past trauma he forgets how to function in society, this is basically the fic for you. I really love how hybrid traits affect the characters' interactions in this fic, and how everyone is kind of messed up because of the imbalance Grian brings. It is wonderfully descriptive in all the right places!
Love Me Like I'm Dead by @daniofcrows is such a gem. You know how hard it is to find good Xisuma whump? It's impossible. I absolutely love how Xisuma and Evil X are characterised in this, and I am obsessed with the unique take on hanahaki disease which I have never seen handled in this way before. The balance between flashbacks and present day is maintained wonderfully and I cannot wait to continue reading this one. Wow.
Oh, you wanted me to do a verse? by @bugbbear is... kind of indescribable. It's horror. It's comedy. It's the apocalypse. It's boatem. Scar eats someone. One of the most interesting and unique apocalypse stories I have read. Slowly updating but worth the wait, in my opinion. This one NEEDS more attention.
So Much For Stardust by @a-plethora-of-peters is basically one of my all-time favourites. Which is a damn good achievement seeing as I don't usually read ZITS fics. Like, ever. In this fic, Skizz is a human abducted and hurt badly by aliens, now recovering in the care of good aliens who don't know how 'sentient' he is. Every update of this one makes me smile, it is wonderful. I love how the characters are written and how the different perspectives are shown. It is just great.
Solar Waltz by @raspberrystruck and aroundtheclock is a brilliant and very very sad regression fic. I love fluffy regression fics as much as the next guy, but this one just... hits different. The hurt/comfort levels are off the charts. Grian is so damn cute the whole time, while also being harrowingly complicated and sad. I am so ready for whatever comes next.
Tango's Castle of Cards by @evilrat-sabre is the one where Tango is a BUG. He's just a little guy (horror). This one is so beautifully written, with poetry-type interludes and perspective changes that really make everything feel so much more impactful. Finding out your buddy is a murder bug isn't the easiest thing in the world. I love this so much.
Traveling Thieves {Dark Fantasy AU} (series) by @amethystfairy1 is basically one of the series of all time. I know I keep saying that but it really really is. I love a good fantasy au, and I love an au with hybrids even more. In this world, hybrids are treated like slaves, but it isn't all doom and gloom for the main characters of each installment. There is a lot of hurt/comfort and the different stories feed into each other in really interesting ways. I try to read as much as I can, though I've missed a few because my emails are buggy. Definitely worth reading these fics, especially since now they're all starting to come together!
Completed Fics
Solving Counting Sheep by @theminecraftbee might have rearranged my brain chemistry a little. Another strong contender for 'fics that inspire me to kill Grian', this time with a more concrete notion of "replacement". Three is my favourite fucked up living weapon. It's so rare to find Evo fics in this day and age, too. This fic had me immediately clicking on every update as soon as I got the emails.
Rescue Fire by @imaginethat0327 is one of the most unique takes on a fictionalised life series game that I have ever read. The whole concept is explained in a realistic and easy-to-follow way, as we learn what's happening with the characters. There are several brilliant storylines happening in this one, but my particular favourites are Jimmy & Tango, Joel, and of course Scar & Grian. This fic is full of whump and, well, read the tags, it isn't always pleasant, but those are my favourite things ever. Definitely worth checking out this fic and its currently updating sequel.
don't you know about me? by takenbadgering is a wonderful comedy of errors with just the right amount of angst for a realistic setting type of fic. If you enjoy polyamory miscommunications, rave aesthetics, kandi, school teacher dynamics, and a lovely blend between grumbo, cubscar, and mumscar, this is the one.
Eventually the Birds Must Land by @milo-hypno follows a polyam ship I would have never thought of, and I cannot believe how much I loved it. This married-as-friends fic premise is wonderful, and captures the main trio (Grian, Mumbo, Impulse)'s personalities so well, while balancing them with the incredibly terrifying descriptions of the Watchers and their power. There's a lot of angst here, but it is ultimately hurt/comfort to the maximum degree. I loved reading it as it updated. Yay for gay marriage!
From The Archives (series) by @sixteenth-days was the absolute inspiration for my own Comms AU, and I will never forget its influence on me. As someone basically unfamiliar with TMA, I thought this series might be hard to follow, but it was not! I read all 57 parts in the span of two days, and I think it altered my brain chemistry. Please read it, even if (especially if) you don't know anything about TMA. The Cleo and Grian storyline lives in my head rent free. I mean it. This is horror at its finest. Also there's an audio series of this fic being released rn, which is very cool.
SUPERCRITICAL by @masque-of-plague hits different. It is such a wonderful take on the superhero/HotGuy trope, and it gets so super dark at some points! This one really takes swings at it's fictional government, which of course I love, while at the same time building this brilliantly emotional relationship between Scar and Grian. I do enjoy a bit of enemies to lovers, but the actual plot mixed into the story makes this one extra special. It is thrilling, with action that I don't get to see too often! Great work.
I am weary with contending! is one of the mumscarian fics of all time. From 'this house has people in it'-type horror, to magic gone wrong, to childhood trauma, to attempted assassination, to gender fuckery, this fic has it all. Usually I don't go for convex siblings, but this one is good enough to get a pass from me. Amazingly detailed worldbuilding alongside a brilliantly creative story.
It Spreads by @foxxology may not count as a fic, actually. It's a comic. But it's posted on ao3 so it counts. I was obsessed with this one as it was updating, honestly. It rocked me to my core. The art is phenomenal. The writing is brilliant. I love sculk.
Luck of the sea by Sleepy_Duck is a lovely take on mermaid and human interactions, with Grian as a marine life conservator and Scar as a very neglected mer. This one takes us emotionally in all sorts of directions, and offers lots of hope for the future of the characters. I heavily enjoyed this fic - if you like mermaids and marine biology, check it out.
there are many downsides to being a marine biologist by donnerstag is another mermaid fic but with a pretty different vibe. First of all, it follows what I would consider a rarepair Doc/Martyn. Second of all, reading this as it updated was a thrilling experience that nearly made me cry at certain points. I love how the relationship builds in this fic. It is honestly amazing. The whole idea of experimenting on a sentient sea creature, learning that he can communicate, then losing funding and having to save him from being dissected?!?! It's crazy. I love it.
Thus concludes my fic recommendations. I hope you enjoy at least some of these, and consider reblogging to spread these wonderful fics around <3
#ben chats shit on the internet#hermitcraft#hermitblr#hermitshipping#fanfiction#fic recs#life series#trafficblr#traffic smp#trafficshipping#traffic series#traffic life#??? what else do i tag this uhh#long post
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Vampires in Omegaverse
So. For Context- AOB AU is one of my favorite worldbuilding hyperfocus topics, and I got into Vampire Dick Grayson territory and the topic came up wherein I said- Did You Know I Have A Fusion of Vampires and Omegaverse Thoughts and was told I needed to share them so I did and then questions got asked and I got to world build about it. I then rambled to @deathwalkerberry about it, and she said I should share the thoughts so it can then be put into fanfiction and she was RIGHT so Welcome To My Ted Talk. @north-peach for you as well.
I actually have two different versions of how these two AU can fuse involving how the dynamics themselves interact with being turned. This is just one of them
Find my World Building under the cut
This AU kinda jumps off the idea that Vampires can shift what dynamic they are perceived as by the 'standard' AOB AU. It does that by playing with what a "Vampire" actually IS in here.
For the purposes of this AU there's two 'subtypes' of vampire. Those that came to Earth, and those in the AOB verse that get turned. As an aside, when they get turned, they keep the body-make up of whatever their secondary was before they were turned. This means the 'those that came to Earth' vampires don't actually HAVE any dynamics.
Which is why I started thinking about how we all have the "Uncanny Valley" effect thing in real life- and how it's possible through various studies to have genetic memory from those in your family line. My logic was well in order for all of humanity to do that, there has to be SOMETHING out there- more than one thing even- that caused it.
That makes it so very instinctive for humans to look at something that looks, acts, reacts like us and isn't and just know that something is off. That has something just slightly off that makes all of our instincts latch onto it like it's a threat, or something we need to be aware of.
So in this AU, my thought was that part of that reason was Vampires. The very first introduction of vampire species happened ages ago in this AU. Since this was built around DC as the basis for the AU I figured aliens are standard anyway so-
It was an alien species introduced, that looked like humans but wasn't. They're a creature that is meant to adapt, to be an apex predator. To be THE predator wherever they went. Most Vamp AU play with the 'ancient functioning immortal' thing- and these aliens that landed are to be fair.
But I wondered what it would be like, to have a vampire that has...adaptability. Rather than going the old and stuck in their traditions and ways route in the way standard Vamp lore does, I wanted to change it up. They're a hunting species. They are built to travel to different universes/worlds/across space and fit in.
It's not instant of course, they cant just like...shapeshift. So what they do, is they look for races that are of similar make up in at least looks first. If they can land and blend in, they have time to adapt as needed. They're long lived and just as clever as humans can be.
When they first landed on Earth, they looked like AOB standard humans- but they didn't have the secondaries, they didnt fit quite right. And they hunted. As they spread across the world, and stories of these beings that looked human, but didn't smell like them, didn't have quite the right body build for an omega, an alpha, or a beta, were just so slightly OFF, the stories humans would tell about creatures (the long white faces, the solid black eyes, the sharp teeth, the avoidance of sunlight, the things that could maybe be human but are just the slightest bit NOT, enough to get your attention and make you wary) across the world spread. Stories that said be wary told children be careful.
The longer they stayed, the more they adapted: faces shifting to closer to standard, learning to mimic the kind of scents AOB verse has, the structure of the body changing. Adapting to deal with the sun instead of burning in it in a way a human didnt- still sensitive to it but no longer deadly if managed correctly. Learning that humans were clever and creative, were INTERESTING, changing often enough to keep an immortal on their toes. But also enough to kill them if they werent more careful. That the pack instincts would make whole neighborhoods turn on them if they stepped wrong And thats just the ones that came TO Earth.
Then you have the people who were CHANGED. The ones that were on Earth and earned the regard of a vampire enough they chose to change them. Those that started in an AOB verse, who had dynamics. Some were changed out of love, yes, but a lot for control.
The turned blend better- it's not an adaption to look like AOB humans, they ARE, their just MORE now. Those that had to shift to blend still set off the uncanny valley effect now- but humans at this point are not as aware of the supernatural possibilities that are REAL in DC verse (and maybe vampires helped that be so, so only certain communities remember and still learn and pass things down) The turned that might at some point leave Earth, that would travel space in any capacity will find they adapt to places across the galaxy and unless they have a teacher dont know why. Don't know the race of vampires are BUILT to adapt to species and hunt them, to blend in and feed, are built to spread the 'virus' that originally created vampires on their original home world before they ever steps food into the wider verse.
This does mean that BORN Vampires (at least of the generations that came before this Earth) can only breed to make born vampires with those that have the right parts to their standard (since my brain works with AOB dynamics having the parts needed to have children in omega). Thinking the vampires that come to earth have functioning "sire and carrier" gender subtypes, but their make up might be a bit more...alien than standard AOB.
But it works in functionally the same way. Once AOB verse people start getting changed, they still have their sexual secondary body make up and if they want biological pups would still have to make it work by standard- though there is always the child by adoption or child by bite.
Speaking of child-by-bite! Since it's an alien based take on Vamps that can and will adapt to blend with other species (again it's not shapeshifting in full, so they cant shift too far from human base looks hence looking for species that CAN be blended with) children that get turned or are born vamps actually age to prime before they stop. Better to blend and hunt with later, so the cells allow for change to continue until it's in prime shape.
So for this AU I'd get to play with alien vamps, how old they actually are, bringing in bits and pieces of culture, tech, and knowledge of various species across numerous galaxies, and maybe even eventually dimensions, when they figure out that it's possible to jump those.
VS
AOB turned Vampires who are learning some of the stories passed down all over the world are actually based off THIS creature, are real and something they should have been aware of and are now part of.
I wanna play with how Bonds present from their packs when they die, vs Bonds made by turning someone, how a pack that WILL be having their packmate back, vampire or not, that want the bonds back would mix across in "a vampire capable of making bonds that aren't turning, but instead built on pack bonds" and the virus that adapts to hosts when it changes them, and is BUILT to adapt the host to new environments and take advantage of everything it can to make sure they survive.
I wanna see a virus based in adaptability that MADE vampires what we would know them as running straight into Human's are space orcs and their world is a death world mixed with all the things that come with having pack bonds and AOB dynamics. Because the virus is going to latch onto everything it can once it enters a new host, and in learning how the body functions, read what should by optimal from every blood-drink, and possibly change its host to work with that, and adapt
If AOB verse vampires leave the Earth to travel elsewhere, and were to change someone, the virus would work to adapt their body to AOB standard. Maybe not the secondaries as a regular AOB human would know them, but the bonds created through pack? the senses? the differing body make up to let them hunt and be dangerous from pre-city days? the differing pathways in the brain that are lit up?? It's going to change all of that. Add it, use it.
Turning is painful, and often deadly due to the fact the virus DOES that. That it uses everything it's picked up from all the races to come before, and it will work on making the best adaptable hunter it can, will make it so it has more change of being passed on, of living. A pack-based world like an AOB?? The virus would have a wild time.
So- the more willing a turn, the more likely they are to survive! Mind over Matter sort of- it's still really dangerous of course, still very much possibly deadly, but a willing change makes the body more likely to survive all of it. If they're utterly unwilling, it's much more likely to kill them! Which means most vampires when they decide I want to keep this one actually TRY to get consent, to win over their chosen, because they WANT them to survive it! (Some of it can be love, but some can also be done through manipulation and lies, or other such things so it's not always HAPPY and willing.)
Hunting is done with the intent to blend in and feed- a good chunk of the vamp population- turned and born, earth-made and other, nowadays are all careful to only take what they need, to be careful with how MUCH they take, and to vary whom and where they take it from. Never to turn, but to simply feed.
You have, of course, the bad eggs that will just take that want a thrall not a partner or family or just manipulate people into following them without making them a thrall depending. That turn many, and break them through the bonds made, bend them to their will but that's more likely to bring hunters.
(Its also why the rumors about vampires are so much LIKE that- the ones found are often new and not in control, or just plain don't care and will rip through whole populations. But the good ones? The ones that want to adapt and hunt and thrive? they're very very good at being careful. Of making it just some tick- a kink they have with bloodplay, or working together to get blood bags, of finding a way to make it odd, yes, but not dangerous and worthy of being hunted over. So a larger population that normal vamp lore in this verse are actually willingly turned one way or another. Or those that didn't want to be turned, but are absolutely the type to want to survive no matter what. (The brain is fascinating and I wanted to play with that and how it might effect survivability of a turn)
Animals can't be infected by the virus in my head, cause it needs that bit of sapience to actually latch in and change them properly. I just absolutely believe some of the original vampires took various other planet pets with them if they could. And unless the creature already had the ability to make a sort of mental bond, it wouldn't actually have a bond with their vampire, or through them to others. They can be trained to respond to things and do it well of course but not linked into the mind in my head. Though if it IS an animal from another planet that DOES have the right level of sapience to actually change and it manages to survive that change...I'd say it has a bond with the 'sire' that changed it, Should they later be added to a pack, the pack would be able to sense the 'familiar' but not quite so well or as close as the one it's bonded to.
Running past animals I had some thoughts about Heat and Rut and how it plays with vampires verse. Vampires being present as predators to packs absolutely contributed to the way they synch on rut and heats, on the denning down for better defense among other things. I like to imagine the rut and heat hormones- since my AOB AUs do not allow actual mating or pack bonds to be formed when they're in heat or rut cause the pheromones fuck up the bond settling right- develop that as a partial defense against vamps in this au. or at least it works unexpectedly in their benefit, since my AOB au has that even in non vampire aus.
The level of wild chemicals and pheromones and everything going on means that Vamps CAN drink blood during someone's heat or rut, but it would mess with the vampire. Those who came to earth- their bodies dont know how to process or handle those chemicals and it makes them all kinds of off and unbalanced. Makes them want to drop the meal and just NOPE right out of it most of the time. Or makes them kind of high or drunk. Body just cannot process it.
The cocktail of chemicals in the blood CAN be addictive to some of these kind of vampires cause it's so different and can lead to a serial killer type problem that needs to get handled but the normal response for most is to decide not gonna drink that when they're bodies are all over the place and then sometimes to go find their mate cause they end up kinda horny.
AOB turned vamps get shoved into a kind of...phantom or pseudo heat/rut because their brains REMEMBER this cocktail and what to do with them- so it doesn't lean into a feed frenzy or something, it's more likely to set them into whatever habits they had when they went into heat or rut- to convince their body they are in one. So around pack theyre gonna nest down and/or caretake, maybe go find their mate, around enemy pack, it makes them aggressive and dangerous, which just leads to messy fights they dont want to set off. So they're careful about that. Brain functions and are again fascinating, and the vampires CAN breed so I've been debating if turned AOB vamps still get some version of a heat or rut still.
Vampires turn each other with bites, draining, and shared blood. So I think pack-bonding would work with a bite as well, since their bodies are literally built off of it, and an AOB turned vampire would have all the right glands to bite too, so it works on 'came to earth' and 'turned AOB Vampires' too.
Since I imagine an almost-pack bond between those who get turned and the one who turned them, they DO have the mental bonds! They're not QUITE as deep as a pack bond, but it does give them the awareness of each other, the emotional sharing, and a bit of sway. AOB Vamps tend to have an even deeper bond to those they change, though it's still not quite pack. Not unless the INTENT is there, because I imagine AOB all have venom sacks of their own that let them add to their packs, or give mating bonds, and the vampire venom is just...a newly added sack. AOB Pack bonds are deeper. What I'd refer to as "soul level" in my head. More open, thicker, stronger. More able to support communication on them, more varied uses. Vampire Turning Bites are more...surface level? An awareness of the person they turned, a little sway on them, but none of that emotional vulnerability or give and take in the same manner. A double bond- pack that was then turned by pack- is more akin to the soul mate bond in my head. all of what you'd get as pack but deeper still- now able to send images and share senses between them, make each other stronger. Things like that.
I do love the idea of some areas having packs that worked with and bonded to Vampires as pack or mates, who adapted to coexist and may not remember it now (or maybe theres some that DO so you have pockets of interesting worldbuilding and safe spaces for not only vampires but those that want to learn about them and know where or who to ask. Places for vampires to bring humans they want to turn so they can learn and get a second opinion from. So those that adapted with the vampires are more prone to be...enticing to a vampire. Their scents, how they move, what they know. Vampires are- in my head- actually built to BE social if not with the pack bonding they once had- the virus wants to spread- it needs to meet people to do that, build.
So packs that react well to vampires and welcome them actually usually end up with generations worth of protectors from them! In the know towns or buildings, people- they act as a sort of...underground railroad type but for blood and the things vampires need. Maybe even other supernatural creatures that can learn to function and live in relative peace with each other. Genetically, I feel like these people who blended with vampires, maybe were born far enough down the line to NOT be vampire on birth- are more likely to survive and thrive with the change, smell better, have a bit more predator to them, a bit danger to them.
Now to jump back to the original verse I built this for because I saw DC Vampire Dick Grayson and my brain went HELLO???-
My thoughts about this AU in specific were more Dick's circus is a traveling set of vampires Some of them are came to Earth vampires, are very old, and it makes their circus remarkable because there's things from literally other worlds in there that can blend as props or normal enough.
Mary and John- Dick's parents- are actually TURNED vampires. They have Dick as a born vampire, but he grows up in a troupe that shares all the stories he needs to know so he knows a lot more than most turned vampires do.
They also survive this AU. they end up discovering Batman and Bruce Wayne while there, and are fascinated (eventually leading to a polyship there and an eventual (but not without some major thinking and planning on B's part and only in this case talks) turn on Bruce's part!)
So Robin does still take to the skies if a bit differently- and there may be some extra capes depending on Mary and John. I still want Tim to see Dick at the circus and maybe the Grayson's still fall but as vampires dont actually die and Bruce as Batman KNOWS about the supernatural and is able to help them get out of there? And I know Talons and the Gray Son were a thing in regards to the circus that leads me to the fun thing about them in this AU-
Talons aren't native to Earth in this AU either!! They're a previous world's attempt to kill off vampires and they like to hunt them down from world to world, and turn their own soldiers, make them undying so they can match up to a vampire and possibly kill them.
You could technically still set Dick up to be Vampire King if you wanted in this au, or not but it lives rent free in my head now.
To those of you who read this far- if you DO write this AU in any way PLEASE come back and put it in the replies for me to devour
#wolf talks#omegaverse#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#a/b/o#a/b/o dynamics#Vampire AU#Fusion of two AU#DC#Batman#dick grayson#Bruce Wayne#wolfsrainrules#I use AOB as the shorthand to avoid slurs#long post#uncanny valley#aliens
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I am in love with the vamp family!!! is reader forever going to be a young girl since she was tuned at a young age or do the vampires in your verse get older?? if she is forever young do you think it will ever impact the story?
I’ve been developing my platonic vampire lore and plan to share more soon, but feel free to ask specific questions in the meantime.
So readers mentioned being adolescent transitioning to young adult -15ish to maybe 20, totally up to interpretation (bc her exact age doesn't really change the story much). I usually imagine her as an older teenager, youthful but for the most part physically mature. If you picture her younger, her being "forever young" won't be a focus in my stories -well not like it is in 'interview with a vampire'.
While yes technically she’s frozen at the age she’s turned and won’t grow in the traditional sense, over time, the girl will just present more mature. Though youthful still, time and knowledge would give that illusion of her looking older than that age she was turned. Just by the way she holds herself, her eyes, presents herself and having a more vampiric look that changes her features a bit too. She might go from naive young teenager looking to looking like a well rounded young adult in as short of time as a few decades.
Story impact?-
My vampires are different creatures from humans, with instincts and brain chemistry that change after turning. They don’t reproduce traditionally, so romantic love doesn't exist how we think of it. Instead, their bonds are built on choice and shared purpose. Lavinia and Soren’s partnership is unusual—a deep understanding that requires effort, not romance (I'll get to their stories at some point). And most vampire families don’t mirror human ones; some have one head, others have multiple, and some function as close-knit groups.
Vampires are family-focused/ platonic love, so the girl doesn’t feel a need to mature physically to meet human expectations. Their instincts no longer factor in human goals—ideas like seeking a lover or stressing over appearances don’t cross her mind.
I do however think the girl could become angry or self conscious over people degrading (intentional or not) her bc her physical age be humans or even other vampires treating her like a child. But these would be brief moments few and far since she’s not involved with humans much and vampires tend not to focus on appearance as before mentioned.
I will say turning a kid (not a teenager/under 13) is forbidden. Younger people are rarely turned since fledglings are usually chosen for practical traits like intelligence or strength. But it's up to preference as some choose personality first, but most choose potential first, including the Beaumonts, which might come as a surprise when houses hear about the Beaumont's choosing a girl for personality.
Basically: Lavinia, would have never subjected someone she cares for to such a fate.
okay, that was longer than I expected, but I hope to clean up my lore and create a little fact page soon. Plz let me know if there's any plot holes I haven't thought about🙏. Also, thank you for the love ❤️ and an excuse to start ranting about my version of vampires.
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The Vampire Chronicles AU (Part 1)
This concept had lived rent free in my head since @sassywastelandtimemachine influenced me into starting reading the series. The Vampire Lestat could as well be titled The SOLDIER Genesis, and Queen of the Damned really sold the Jenova-Akasha parallel to me.
Both Lestat and Genesis have a thing for depressed boyfriends (Nicki/Louis and Angeal) who are basically catholic guilt incarnated... and theater, of course. They are both rockstars. The both want to meet their "Goddess". They both want to become the best of all. They both want the blood of a powerful being to become stronger. They both are sassy motherfuckers who offer unwelcomed revelations.
I wanted to write a snippet from this AU for GenGeal Week, but first I needed to flesh out a guide for those who are not versed if VC's lore to better navigate it, so here it is!
Origin
The Calamity from the Sky is a sentient virus unleashed on Gaia by an unspecified alien race as part of a plan to annihilate all advanced life. It transforms infected hosts into cannibalistic puppets, thereby propagating the contagion and consigning its victims to a protracted, agonizing death.
By the time Jenova ascended the throne as the benevolent Queen of the Cetra, the virus had already spawned a cult dedicated to ritual cannibalism. In a desperate bid to halt the plague, she waged a relentless war against the cultists. She ultimately captured their Priestess, only to be betrayed by her own guards—secretly infected—and slain.
The Calamity then claimed Jenova’s dying body as its host, fusing with her blood-spilled corpse to create the first known vampire. Jenova became a being of immense power—functionally immortal, invulnerable, and capable of transforming any creature into a bloodthirsty monster. From her enhanced mind, unseen tendrils of telepathy reached out to her children and their descendants, forging a vast psychic network.
In a final, desperate stand, the Cetra managed to slaughter all of the newborn vampires but could not destroy Jenova herself. Instead, they sealed her in stone, vowing that each new generation would guard her starved, dormant form.
But the Age of Men came; the Cetra were decimated, and Jenova’s tomb faded into legend—until 1977.
In early 1977, an expedition led by Professor Gast Faremis, Chief of Shinra Scientific Department, located an extremely well preserved Cetran construction in the freezing region of the North Crater, once believed to never be inhabited.
The operation revealed it to be the tomb of the ancient Queen Jenova, one of the better known rulers among the Cetra. Her body was finally excavated on the 7th of July of the same year, and was impressively preserved, giving Gast unrevealed insight on Cetran anatomy.
The operational base was set in Nibelheim.
Jenova Project
The aim of the Jenova Project was to recreate a living Cetra using Jenova’s blood.
During Phase One (named Project G), overseen by Professor David Hollander, two different approaches were tested.
The first volunteer couple consisted of Professor Gast and his assistant. The gametes (the egg was donated by Doctor Gillian O’Hara) were treated with Jenova’s blood prior to conception. The assistant got pregnant, but rapidly became aggressive, fell ill, and eventually died before delivery. The baby was extracted via C-section in July 1978. Although premature, the infant was anemic and photophobic but otherwise healthy — and entirely human. He was named Genesis and adopted by a wealthy family: the Rhapsodos.
The second volunteer couple were Doctor Gillian O’Hara and Professor David Hollander themselves. Unlike her counterpart, Doctor O’Hara was administered Jenova’s blood throughout her pregnancy, developed no symptoms, and the baby was delivered naturally. Born in October 1978, he was named Angeal. Early blood work revealed traces of non-human traits. Alarmed by the possible implications, O’Hara fled Nibelheim with Angeal.
Shinra quickly located her and agreed not to interfere, on the condition that she reside in a newly built rural settlement intended to monitor Genesis’ health in Mideel — Banora.
Phase Two (known as Project S) took the experiment to the next level: Jenova’s blood was directly injected into the developing fetus, specifically the child of Doctor Lucrecia Crescent and Professor Simon Hojo. Lucrecia developed psychological symptoms similar to those of Genesis’ mother, though without the physical decline, and in late 1979 she successfully gave birth to a healthy boy: Sephiroth. Although genetically the son of Lucrecia and Simon, Sephiroth bore an uncanny resemblance to Jenova herself, with grey eyes and silver hair—traits neither parent possessed.
Hojo soon realized that Jenova was not the Cetra Queen they had believed her to be, but a different specimen altogether. He kept this discovery secret from both Gast and Hollander, and seized the infant, claiming his wife had gone insane as a result of the experiment. Lucrecia attempted to take her own life but found she had become incapable of dying. She left Nibelheim and sealed herself within a nearby cave.
Sephiroth displayed immediate and unmistakable signs of inhumanity: although capable of metabolizing food, he became weak and unstable without monthly transfusions. He was stronger and faster than any child his age. He could survive in sunlight, but was highly sensitive to it, and his natural circadian rhythm was attuned to nocturnal hours.
Secretly, Hojo deemed Project S a success. Sephiroth was not a Cetra—but a perfect human-vampire hybrid.
The Incident
Genesis and Angeal grew up together in Banora and eventually joined Shinra to become members of SOLDIER. They rose quickly through the ranks to First Class and developed a close friendship with Sephiroth.
In the late summer of Year 0000, Genesis challenged Sephiroth to a duel and was wounded. Though the injury seemed minor at first, it failed to heal and continued bleeding to the point that a transfusion became necessary. Angeal volunteered his blood.
Something in Angeal’s blood triggered a sudden change in Genesis’ genetics: Jenova’s characteristics hadn’t been entirely lost, only dormant, and the transfusion was enough to awaken them. After days of agony, Genesis realized that sunlight had become potentially lethal to him, and that he could no longer digest food—he needed blood to survive.
On his next mission in Wutai, he turned most of his troops into vampires and deserted.
To be continued...����
#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy vii#final fantasy 7#crisis core#genesis rhapsodos#sephiroth#angeal hewley#vampire chronicles#vc#vc au#tw: blood#jenova
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IN THE SPHERE OF YOUR ODIUM
Chapter 1: you are filled with hatred and rage

PAIRING: levi ackerman x fem!reader
RATING: explicit
FANDOM: shingeki no kyojin/attack on titan (canon verse, canon divergent)
SYNOPSIS:
Levi hates you for your Mitrassian upbringing, you hate him because he took away your promotion
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"Your pride will be the death of you," Mike Zacharias says often enough that you could probably embroider it on a pillow.
Not that you would admit it, but the man has a point. Pride is the glue holding you together most days. Pride, and a well-earned reputation that keeps people from underestimating you, not that it stops them from trying. Lieutenant of the Survey Corps, the youngest officer right now, and still kicking after a decade of charging headfirst into death’s waiting arms. It is not a small thing.
The carriage sways gently, wheels crunching against gravel, and you feel it settle into your bones. One moment you are staring out at the endless expanse of trees, letting Erwin talk logistics at your side while Hange fiddles with some absurd contraption across from you.
Then, like clockwork, that strange enchantment of all moving vehicles sets in. Your body slackens, head tipping sideways like a marionette with its strings cut, and before you know it, you are gone.
Gone.
Gone against the shoulder of humanity’s most unshakable pillar, Erwin Smith, who tolerates your sleep-deprived nonsense with the patience of a saint. And he lets you, of course. Because Erwin has long since made peace with the fact that you are a better soldier than you are a functioning human.
And because, deep down, you suspect he finds it amusing that the infamously restless lieutenant can only find sleep in the most inconvenient places.
Hange does. She once proposed you sleep in carriages permanently, like some kind of nocturnal vampire with a travel-related curse. Said it straight to Erwin’s face too, barely stifling laughter.
The worst part?
He’d actually considered it for half a second before you’d practically fallen over yourself to protest.
But then there is Levi.
Levi, whose glare alone could kill men. Levi, who has not stopped glaring since you first sat down, and who now looks like he is considering a thousand and one ways to murder you with nothing but the force of his disdain. Not that this is new.
The man’s practically made a career out of hating your guts.
For reasons you can’t quite put your finger on, he’s always had it out for you. Maybe it is because you breathe too loudly. Maybe it is because you are from Mitras. Maybe it is because he just hates everyone by default and you have never been special enough to escape that.
Or… maybe it’s because you once corrected his grip on his blades during training and bruised his impossibly fragile ego. Who knows? What you do know is that every time you so much as exist in his general vicinity, he looks like he is biting back the urge to kick you into the nearest ditch.
And now this.
You, asleep against Erwin’s shoulder, a crime so heinous it could probably be used to justify your execution. Levi hasn’t said anything yet, but even in your sleep, you can feel the words brewing in him, a storm cloud ready to burst. You can practically hear it now. He is channelling them to your dreams.
Something snide and cutting, because Levi does not know how to speak without turning it into a weapon.
The carriage hits a bump, and your head bounces slightly before settling back into the warm, solid presence beside you. The sound of wheels against gravel is hypnotic, lulling, a rhythm that pulls you deeper into the kind of sleep you rarely find anywhere else.
You would call it embarrassing if you were awake enough to care.
But Levi cares.
His glare could probably stop the carriage dead in its tracks if he tried hard enough. And when he finally speaks, his voice low and razor-edged, in your dreams, you know whatever he is about to say will be just the kind of thing to haunt you for weeks.
The carriage jerks violently, throwing your head sideways and yanking you from the warm, hazy cocoon of half-consciousness into the cold, harsh light of the waking world. You blink, bleary-eyed, trying to piece together what just happened, why your heart is racing like you have been yanked out of a nightmare.
Then it hits you. Literally. Your face collides with something hard and unyielding, and you jerk upright with a wince, clutching your nose like it might have just been rearranged. Erwin’s shoulder, you realise.
Fantastic. You have been drooling on the commander of the Survey Corps like some wet-mouthed toddler, and now you are wide awake, head pounding, mouth dry as sandpaper.
Before you can even string a coherent thought together, you hear it. That voice. Low, gravelly, and just dripping with disdain.
“You know you sleep with your mouth open, right?”
Levi. Of course it is Levi. Because who else would it be?
You blink at him, trying to focus through the fog of sleep and confusion, only to find him staring at you like you are a piece of trash someone accidentally dragged into the carriage. His arms are crossed, his eyes narrowed, and his lips curl into this half-smirk, half-snarl that sets your teeth on edge.
“What?” you croak, voice scratchy and weak, and instantly regret it.
He leans back, eyes narrowing further like he is dissecting you with his gaze. “I said,” he repeats, slowly, “you sleep with your mouth open. Like a fucking fish gasping for air.”
You blink again, heat rushing to your face as the words sink in. “I do not.”
He scoffs. Actually scoffs, like the sound is physically dragged from his throat by the sheer weight of his disdain. “Oh, you don’t?” he says, and there is that smirk again, sharp enough to cut. “That’s interesting, because I just spent the last hour watching you drool all over Erwin’s shoulder like a goddamn baby.”
Your stomach drops. Drool? No. No, that can’t be right. You don’t drool. You ae too composed, too dignified, too… too not that .
“You are lying,” you snap, straightening up and glaring at him, because it is the only defence you have left. “I don’t drool.”
“Oh, you don’t?” He leans forward now, elbows on his knees, his voice dropping to a mocking whisper. “So what’s this, then?” He gestures vaguely in your direction, and you instinctively swipe at your chin, only to freeze when your fingers come away damp.
Oh, fuck.
The heat in your face explodes, burning brighter than the sun, and Levi just sits there, watching you, his smirk widening into something that is almost predatory.
“ You are disgusting ,” he says flatly, leaning back again like the very sight of you is offensive to his existence. “Figures. A Mitrassian brat like you, born with a silver spoon shoved so far down your throat you probably think it is normal to have servants wipe your ass for you, of course you’d drool in your sleep. Can’t even manage basic fucking hygiene.”
Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” he drawls, tilting his head like he is genuinely curious. “Don’t tell me you are actually offended. What’s the matter? Did no one ever tell you the world does not revolve around your pampered little ass?”
The words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, mouth opening and closing like like a fucking fish. No. No, you will not let him win this.
“At least I don’t walk around with a stick up my ass,” you snap back, crossing your arms and glaring daggers at him. “Seriously, Levi, do you ever relax? Or do you just spend all your free time figuring out new ways to be an insufferable dick?”
His smirk vanishes in an instant, replaced by a glare so icy it could freeze fire. “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “Coming from the spoiled little princess who can’t even take a nap without making a goddamn fool of herself.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “Just because you are miserable doesn’t mean you have to drag everyone else down with you.”
“Miserable?” He laughs, short and sharp and completely devoid of humour. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
“And you don’t know the first thing about me,” you shoot back, leaning forward now, your heart pounding with something between anger and adrenaline. “So why don’t you stop acting like you are so much better than everyone else and just shut the fuck up for once?”
For a moment, the two of you just sit there, glaring at each other. Then, finally, Levi snorts and leans back, his arms crossing over his chest again.
“You are not worth it,” he mutters, turning his gaze to the window like the conversation never even happened.
The silence lasts all of thirty seconds. Thirty seconds of you staring at Levi like you might actually strangle him, and him pretending you don’t exist, his gaze locked on the scenery outside the window as though it is somehow the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. Thirty seconds, and then, like clockwork, it starts again.
“You are such a fucking hypocrite,” you mutter, the words bubbling up from somewhere deep and unfiltered. “Always acting like you are above everyone else, but you are just a bitter little -”
“Careful,” he cuts in, his voice as sharp and cold as a whetted blade. He doesn’t even look at you, but the warning is clear enough.
“Or what?” you snap, leaning forward like you are daring him to say something worse. “You gonna scold me again, Captain Clean Freak? Tell me I am a disgrace to the Survey Corps because I had the audacity to sleep ? God forbid someone isn’t a perfect little soldier like you.”
That does it. His head whips around, eyes narrowing into slits of pure, undiluted annoyance. “Perfect?” he echoes, his voice low and venomous. “You think I’m perfect? You are even dumber than I thought.”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” you bite back, throwing your hands up. “You walk around with that fucking holier-than-thou attitude, judging everyone else like it’s your job, and you expect me to believe you are not doing it on purpose? Please.”
Levi’s jaw tightens, the muscle there twitching dangerously. “Maybe if you didn’t act like a spoiled, self-important brat all the time, people wouldn’t fucking judge you.”
“And maybe if you pulled that stick out of your ass, people wouldn’t think you are a miserable asshole!”
“ Enough! ”
The word slices through the carriage like a whip crack, and both of you freeze, turning in unison to face its source. Erwin. Of course. The commander’s voice is calm, measured, but there is an unmistakable edge to it, a warning neither of you dares to ignore.
“Both of you,” he says, his blue eyes flicking between you and Levi with practised authority, “are acting like children. This is not the time or the place for petty arguments.”
You sink back into your seat, arms crossed tightly over your chest, and shoot Levi one last glare for good measure. He doesn’t even bother looking at you, his attention shifting back to the window like the argument never happened.
But Hange is not as easily deterred.
“Honestly,” she says, leaning forward with a grin that is far too wide for the current situation, “you two fight like an old married couple. It is kind of cute, in a dysfunctional, terrifying sort of way.”
“Shut it, Hange,” you and Levi say in unison, the words tumbling out so quickly they practically overlap.
Hange bursts out laughing. “See? That’s what I am talking about! Perfect synchronization.”
You groan, burying your face in your hands, and try to ignore the way Levi mutters something under his breath that is probably an insult aimed squarely at you. The carriage jolts again, and for a moment, you are tempted to throw open the door and hurl yourself out into the passing fields just to escape the suffocating tension.
Instead, you take a deep breath and close your eyes, willing yourself to stay calm. You have survived worse than this, you remind yourself. Much worse.
But the thought does not bring you any comfort. If anything, it only makes the knot in your chest tighten, memories clawing their way to the surface before you can shove them back down.
“Are you okay?” Hange’s voice cuts through the haze, startling you.
You open your eyes to find her watching you, her usual grin replaced by something softer, more cautious. You force a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
“I am fine,” you say, the lie slipping out so easily it almost feels like the truth.
Levi snorts. “Yeah, sure. You are a real picture of fine, drooling all over the commander like some kind of stray dog.”
And just like that, the fragile moment of calm shatters.
“Fuck you, Levi,” you snap, the words coming out sharper than you intended.
“Not in your wildest dreams,” he fires back without missing a beat.
“Okay, enough! ” Erwin’s voice cuts through again, sharper this time, and both of you go quiet, though you are still glaring at Levi out of the corner of your eye.
The rest of the ride passes in strained silence. You don’t look at Levi again, and he doesn’t look at you, but the weight of his presence is impossible to ignore.
You tell yourself you don’t care. You tell yourself he is just an asshole with a superiority complex and nothing he says actually matters. But the words linger anyway, burrowing under your skin and refusing to let go.
And when the carriage finally lurches to a stop, you are the first to step out, the cool air hitting your face like a slap as you take a deep, steadying breath.
You have survived worse, you remind yourself again. Much worse.
But somehow, Levi still manages to get under your skin like no one else ever has.
.
.
.
The suite is… nicer than you expected. Not that you expected it to be bad – this is Mitras, after all, where even the dingiest inns have marble-tiled lobbies and chandeliers - but it is almost unsettlingly polished. Too clean. Too organised. Like it is trying too hard to convince you it is a home away from home when all it really feels like is another cage.
At least Hange is here. You can deal with Hange, even when she is her usual chaotic, half-feral self, leaving books and gadgets strewn about like breadcrumbs leading to her next ill-fated experiment.
You’d take her over Levi’s constant scowling and Erwin’s omnipresent aura of I am thinking about something great and you will never guess what it is any day.
The moment you step into your shared bedroom, you peel off your overcoat, let it fall to the floor in a heap, and collapse half onto the bed, your legs still dangling off the edge. The mattress is firm, which is a shame, you were hoping for something soft enough to swallow you whole.
“I am so fucking tired, Hange,” you groan into the duvet, your voice muffled but no less pathetic for it.
“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable, Letta,” she replies, already rummaging through the bags like she is looking for buried treasure. “Erwin wants us to change into casual clothes and meet him for dinner. He is got things to go over.”
“Of course he does,” you mutter, rolling over just enough to free your mouth from the fabric. “He always has things to go over. He lives to go over things. If he stopped going over things, I think he’d just… cease to exist.”
Hange snorts, tossing a bundle of clothes in your direction. They hit you square in the face. “Here. Get dressed, philosopher.”
You take your time peeling off your shirt, the fabric sticking slightly to your skin. Hange, to her credit, turns her back, busying herself with something else.
It’s not like she has not seen you naked before - military life strips away a lot of modesty – but there is an unspoken agreement between the two of you. A quiet kind of respect. She knows what’s written across your body, and she does not look unless you let her.
The blouse she picked is blue. Soft, comfortable, but formal enough to pass Erwin’s silent inspection. You pair it with some loose pants, opting to keep your bra on because there is no way in hell you’re facing Levi without at least one layer of armour.
“I am done,” you announce, pulling your hair into a quick, messy ponytail.
Hange grins at you. “Looking sharp. Let’s go.”
The common room is as pristine as the rest of the suite, which only makes it feel more awkward when you step in to find Erwin and Levi already seated at the dining table. Erwin, of course, looks perfectly composed in a light blue shirt and gray pants, his posture so straight you’d think he was still in uniform. Levi, on the other hand, looks like he was dragged here against his will – which, to be fair, might actually be the case. He is wearing a grey shirt and black pants, sitting with his arms crossed like he’s already planning his escape.
Hange, ever the social butterfly, breezes into the room with a cheerful, exaggerated salute. “Evening, gentlemen! Ready for another riveting session of Erwin’s Dinner and Briefing Extravaganza ?”
Erwin raises an eyebrow, but there is a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Good to see you are in high spirits, Hange.”
You slip into the seat next to her, offering a quick nod to Erwin and deliberately avoiding eye contact with Levi. He is already staring at you, judging, probably, but you are not in the mood to deal with his you are five minutes away from being court-martialled glare right now.
“The hotel management will deliver dinner shortly,” Erwin says, his tone as even and commanding as ever. “In the meantime, we will go over some of the logistics for tomorrow’s meeting.”
“Of course we will,” you mutter under your breath, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs from Hange.
Levi catches it, of course. “Something you want to share with the class?” he drawls, his voice dripping with disinterest, which only makes it more infuriating.
“Nope,” you reply, popping the p with a smile so forced it makes your cheeks ache. “Just marvelling at how thrilling this all sounds.”
Hange snickers, and Erwin shoots both of you a look that clearly says behave . You shrink slightly under his gaze, but Levi just sighs like he is the only adult in a room full of unruly children.
“Dinner can’t come soon enough,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Don’t worry, Captain Sunshine,” you shoot back, leaning back in your chair. “I amsure your sparkling personality will keep us all entertained until then.”
Hange bursts into laughter, and even Erwin looks like he is trying not to smile. Levi, however, just glares at you, his lips pressing into a thin, unimpressed line.
The moment the food arrives, Erwin thanks the hotel staff with his signature calm authority. It is unsettling how the man manages to make a simple thank you sound like a strategic maneuver. Hange dives in immediately, while Levi sits with his arms crossed, barely glancing at the food. You follow suit with less enthusiasm, picking at a roll and wondering how long it will take before Erwin launches into the real reason you are all here.
And sure enough, just as the steam from the dishes starts to cloud the room and the clinking of silverware fades into the background, he clears his throat. That sound. The harbinger of impending strategy discussions. You brace yourself, fork hovering mid-air, and wait for the inevitable.
“We need to talk about Eren.”
You have been doing that for the past month, finalising and amending the plan again and again. But the thing is higher ups called you so suddenly.
“The fact that Eren is in the Survey Corps now doesn’t mean we are in the clear,” he begins, his eyes scanning the table like he is gauging each of your reactions. “The higher-ups still need convincing. They are skeptical, understandably so, but we need permission to use Eren’s titan abilities outside the walls.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, half-listening and half-lost in your own thoughts. The higher-ups (basically Zachary and MPs). Always watching from their cushy seats in Mitras, making decisions that cost lives while keeping their own hands spotless. They are probably already debating how much of a liability Eren is, how much of a threat. And here you are, halfway through a dinner roll, listening to Erwin plot out a way to spin it in your favor.
“It is not just about getting approval,” Erwin continues, his gaze sharp, almost piercing. “We need to demonstrate that we can control the situation. That includes convincing them Levi is capable of making decisions regarding Eren and his titan form.”
Your eyes flick to Levi instinctively. He is unreadable, as always, his expression carved out of stone. But there is a tension in the way he is sitting, his fingers twitching slightly against the table. You wonder if he is annoyed or if he is just tired of being the go-to name when it comes to proving competence.
“So, what’s the plan?” Hange asks, her voice muffled around a mouthful of potatoes. She waves her fork for emphasis, like this is just another one of her experiments and not a matter of life and death.
Erwin doesn’t miss a beat. “We need to present a united front. The four of us. We need to outline clear guidelines for how and when Eren’s abilities will be used, and we need to propose a system of oversight to reassure them. They need to believe that we are not just throwing him into the field recklessly.”
“Which we are,” you mutter under your breath, and Hange stifles a laugh. Levi’s eyes narrow slightly, but Erwin just keeps going, like he did not hear you, or chose not to.
“There are logistical concerns as well,” he says, his voice dipping into that meticulous, almost hypnotic cadence he uses when he is already five steps ahead of everyone else. “We will need to allocate resources for training, ensure we have the necessary equipment, and establish protocols for worst-case scenarios. The higher-ups will expect answers to all of these questions before they even consider granting approval.”
Levi finally speaks, “And if they don’t grant approval?”
Erwin does not hesitate. “Then we find another way.”
It is such a simple statement, but it carries so much weight. Erwin always has another way. Always another plan. But you can’t help wondering how far he is willing to go this time.
“Convincing them that you can handle Eren is key,” Erwin says, turning his attention to Levi. “You are the one they trust to keep him in check. If they believe you are in control, they are more likely to approve.”
“Eren’s abilities are a double-edged sword,” Erwin continues, “He could be the key to reclaiming territory outside the walls, but only if we use him strategically. Otherwise, he is a risk. A very visible, very dangerous risk.”
The conversation takes a turn the moment you suggest your idea. It was, admittedly, a bold one – deploy Eren without immediate oversight to let him fully utilize his titan abilities in a controlled but real combat scenario outside the walls. Of course under the supervision of higher ups, to show them Eren’s capacity.
Risky? Yes. But also practical. And yet, Levi, unsurprisingly, has other thoughts.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" His voice cuts through the room, sharp and cold, the kind of tone that makes you feel like he’s already dismissed you, stamped an invalid stamp across your forehead.
Your jaw tightens, heat rising to your face. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Levi snaps, leaning back in his chair with that infuriatingly calm demeanor that somehow only makes him seem more hostile. “You are suggesting we throw Eren into a battlefield with no leash. No oversight. No safety net. You really think that is going to end well?”
“It is not ‘no leash,’” you fire back, your voice louder now, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “It is a calculated risk. It is giving him the chance to show what he can do under pressure. Isn’t that what we need to prove to the higher-ups? That he is not just a liability but an actual asset?”
Levi’s eyes narrow, a flash of something like anger or disgust crossing his face. “Calculated risk,” he repeats mockingly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “More like calculated stupidity. You do realize if Eren loses control, people die, right? Or do you just not give a shit about that?”
Your blood boils. The audacity of him, sitting there with his holier-than-thou attitude, like he is the only one who’s ever considered the consequences. Like you are some naive idiot who doesn’t understand the stakes.
“Are you fucking with me right now?” you shout, slamming your hand on the table hard enough to rattle the plates.
“Why would I waste my time fucking with you?” Levi shoots back, his voice as sharp as a blade. “I am just pointing out the obvious. What you said didn’t make any sense. Not that that’s surprising.”
You bristle, fists clenching at your sides as the urge to lunge across the table and wipe that smug look off his face grows stronger by the second. Instead, you turn to Erwin, desperate for some semblance of backup. “Commander?”
Erwin, who has been silently observing the entire exchange with his usual stoic expression, finally looks up. His gaze flickers between you and Levi, his face betraying no emotion. “She is right, Levi. There is a way to critique an idea without dismissing it outright.” he says evenly, his tone calm but firm, the kind of voice that demands attention without ever raising in volume.
Levi shifts slightly in his seat, clearly not used to being called out, but his confidence remains unshaken. “Erwin, she just -”
“But,” Erwin cuts him off, his sharp blue eyes now fixed on you, “Levi is also right. Your proposal is risky. The higher-ups are not going to approve a plan that does not have contingencies in place. And neither will I. it is not something we can present to the higher-ups without significant modifications.”
You flinch, the weight of his words sinking in like stones in your chest. But before you can respond, Levi jumps back in, his voice colder now, more cutting.
“And when it all goes to shit,” he says, leaning forward slightly, his gaze boring into you, “it is not going to be you they blame. It is going to be me. Because I am the one who’s supposed to be keeping Eren in check. I am the one they are going to crucify when your calculated risk blows up in our faces.”
“That’s not –” you start, but he cuts you off.
“No, shut up. You don’t get to sit there and act like you are the one taking the risks here. You are not. You are just throwing out ideas like it is some fucking strategy game, and you don’t give a shit who has to deal with the fallout. As long as it is not you, right?”
“That’s not true!” you snap, the words coming out louder than you intended. Your chest feels tight, like there is a band constricting around your lungs. “I care about the fallout. I care about what happens to Eren, to all of us. But we can’t keep playing it safe. If we don’t take risks, we are never going to get anywhere.”
Levi snorts, the sound so derisive it makes your skin crawl. “Yeah, sure. And when the risks you are so eager to take get people killed, you will just shrug and move on, right? Must be nice, not having to clean up your own messes.”
Your vision blurs slightly, the room tilting as the sheer force of your anger threatens to overwhelm you. How can he say that? How can he sit there and twist your words, your intentions, into something so ugly, so far removed from what you are trying to do?
“Enough,” Erwin interjects, his voice sharp and commanding. The room falls silent instantly, the tension still crackling like static electricity but muted now under the weight of his authority.
Levi sits back, his expression unreadable but no less infuriating. You slump in your chair, your hands trembling slightly as you try to collect yourself, the words you want to say, need to say , lodged in your throat like shards of glass.
“Both of you have valid points,” Erwin says finally, his tone measured. “But this isn’t the time for infighting. We need solutions, not arguments. So let’s focus on that, shall we?”
Levi doesn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he stares at a point just above Erwin’s head. You nod reluctantly, the fire in your chest dimming but not extinguished.
The rest of the conversation is a blur, Erwin and Hange and Levi discussing and outlining contingency plans and alternative strategies while you sit in silence, your mind still spinning with everything Levi said. His words stick to you like tar, heavy and suffocating, and no matter how hard you try to shake them off, they won’t budge.
By the time the meeting ends, you are drained, physically and emotionally, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a storm cloud. But as you stand to leave, you catch Levi’s eye, and for a brief moment, you think you see something there, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual stoic mask.
You don’t say anything. You just walk away, the echoes of his words following you like shadows.
.
.
.
The door shuts with a soft click behind you, muffling the distant hum of voices from the hall. You exhale, long and shaky, the tension still knotted between your shoulders. Hange has not come back yet.
The quiet is better, safer. It wraps around you like a cloak, just enough to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts. You are grateful for the solitude, the temporary reprieve from Levi’s barbed words and Erwin’s even-keeled diplomacy.
Why does he always do this? Why does he make it so damn hard to exist in the same space as him without feeling like you are drowning in some invisible competition you never signed up for?
You sink onto the edge of your bed, boots scuffing the floor, and let your head fall into your hands. It is not the first time you have asked yourself these questions, and it won’t be the last. Levi is a riddle you have been trying, and failing, to solve for years.
Not that you have not tried. But every time you think you are getting close to understanding him, he says or does something that knocks you back to square one, leaving you tangled in a web of frustration and self-doubt.
Four years. That’s how long you’d been in the Survey Corps when he joined. You remember it vividly, though you’d rather forget. Back then, you were a corporal, climbing the ranks steadily, methodically. You were not flashy, but you were reliable, skilled, respected.
People noticed you. They talked about your potential, about how far you could go if you just kept your head down and stayed the course. And for a while, you believed them. You saw a future laid out in neat, linear steps: corporal to sergeant, sergeant to lieutenant, maybe even major someday, if you survived.
Then Levi happened.
He was just some Underground thug at first, a wildcard with a chip on his shoulder and a glare that could cut through steel. No one expected much from him. Hell, you didn’t expect much from him.
But then he picked up a set of ODM gear, and everything changed. He was not just good; he was terrifying. A natural. A prodigy.
Within two years, he was a captain, second only to Erwin, while you, six years deep into your service, were sitting pretty as a sergeant major. It stung. Of course it stung.
But you told yourself it didn’t matter. He deserved it. He earned it. And you? Well, you were still climbing, still proving yourself.
Now, ten years in, you are a lieutenant. A decent rank, nothing to scoff at. But compared to Levi? It feels like nothing. Less than nothing. Nill. Zero. Not that you don’t think he’s earned every ounce of praise he gets, he has.
He is a legend, for God’s sake. The strongest soldier humanity’s ever seen. But standing next to him, you are just... there. A shadow, a footnote.
And people aren’t shy about pointing it out. “Levi is better than you,” they will say, like it is some groundbreaking revelation, as if you have not already spent years internalizing that exact sentiment. They don’t even try to sugarcoat it. “You are good, but you ae not him. ”
No shit.
It is not just the comparisons, though. It is him. The way he looks at you, like he is trying to figure out how someone like you ended up here, in this miserable, blood-soaked corner of the world.
You are Mitrassian – that’s part of it. Born and raised in the glittering heart of the capital, with its marble streets and gilded spires and parties that last until dawn. You had every opportunity to stay there, to live a comfortable, privileged life, far removed from the hellscape of Titan-infested territory.
And yet, you chose this .
Levi hates you for it. You can see it in his eyes, in the sharpness of his words whenever he talks to you. To him, you are the embodiment of everything wrong with Mitras: entitled, hypocritical, blind to the suffering of the Underground.
And maybe he is not entirely wrong. The Underground is hell, and Mitras played no small part in making it that way.
But he doesn’t know your story. He doesn’t know what you have endured, the things you have lost, the reasons you left.
And you are not about to tell him. Not that he’d listen.
You kick off your boots, the thud against the floor breaking the heavy stillness of the room. Your thoughts churn, a chaotic swirl of resentment and regret and something dangerously close to self-pity. You hate feeling this way. Weak. Insecure. Like no matter how hard you try, you will never be the best. But most of all, you hate that Levi can still get under your skin like this, even after all these years.
.
.
.
The meeting with the higher-ups, against all odds, goes well. Suspiciously well. Suspicious in the way that makes you question if you have somehow stepped into an alternate reality where bureaucrats know how to agree on something without tearing each other apart.
But then you think about it, no, of course , it’s Erwin. It is always Erwin. His obsessive attention to detail, his ability to say exactly the right thing at the right time.
If he hadn’t agonized over every syllable of that plan, the whole room would probably still be arguing over whether to serve tea or coffee during the next meeting.
Still, it is a relief. A small win. One you’d like to savor, except...
There is the gala.
Premier Dhalis Zachary, in his infinite wisdom, has decreed that you all must attend. For appearances. For diplomacy. For whatever vague reason he’s decided to latch onto this time. You have tried to talk your way out of it, but apparently, “I’d rather gouge my own eyes out with a dessert fork” is not a compelling argument.
By the time you are back at the hotel, the weight of it is pressing down on you like a lead blanket. Mitras has that effect. Too many faces. Too many memories. The kind that creeps up on you when you least expect it, dragging you down into places you’d rather not revisit.
“I don’t want to go,” you announce, standing in the middle of the Erwin’s room like a defiant child. Your voice is flat, but the words carry a weight that you are sure he notices.
Erwin doesn’t even look up from the map spread out on the desk. “We have talked about this, Letta. You need to be there.”
“No, I don’t ,” you counter, crossing your arms. “It is pointless. Just another excuse for the Mitras elite to pat themselves on the back while the rest of us pretend to care.”
Erwin sighs, the kind of sigh that says he’s already rehearsed this argument in his head. “It is not about them. It is about us. About showing strength and unity.”
“Unity,” you snort. “Right. Because nothing says unity like being cornered by some pompous aristocrat who thinks I owe him a dance.”
“You will manage,” he says, finally looking up. His tone is steady, unyielding. “And we will be there. No one will touch you.”
You laugh, a sharp, bitter sound. “You can’t guarantee that.”
“Yes, I can.”
The way he says it, so calm, so absolute , sends a shiver down your spine. It is infuriating, the way he can make you feel both safe and trapped at the same time.
“Mitras makes me sick,” you mutter, dropping onto the couch like your body’s given up on holding you upright. “Physically. I feel sick, I can’t breathe here.”
Erwin’s expression softens, just a fraction. “I know,” he says quietly. “But staying away won’t help. It won’t change anything.”
You want to argue. To tell him that he doesn’t understand, that he will never understand, but the words catch in your throat. Because he is right, isn’t he? It won’t erase the past. It won’t make the nightmares go away.
“People will insist on dancing,” you say instead, staring at the ceiling. “And you know how well that will go. ‘Oh, look at Letta, how rude, how scandalous.’ Do you know how exhausting it is to be polite to people who’d stab you in the back the second you look away?”
“You will dance,” Erwin says simply, like it is the easiest thing in the world. “You will smile, you will endure it, and then it will be over. We will get through it together.”
You sit up, glaring at him. “And if I don’t?”
“Then it reflects poorly on all of us,” he says, meeting your gaze. “On the Survey Corps. On everything we have worked for.”
“I am not going,” you say leaning against Erwin’s desk with your arms crossed and your jaw set. Your voice is steady, but there is a storm brewing in your chest, heavy and restless. “There has to be another way. I will write a letter or something. A formal apology. Anything but that.”
“We have been over this, Letta. You are attending. End of discussion.”
You scoff, pushing off the desk and pacing the room, your boots scuffing against the polished wood floor. “You always say that, but it is never the end. Because you know what happens? I show up, and it is all polite smiles and veiled insults. And then someone –”
Before you can finish, the door swings open with a sharp creak, and in walks Levi, all sharp angles and perpetual scowl. He does not knock, of course. Why would he? Levi doesn’t ask for permission; he just is .
“Still whining about the gala?” he says, voice flat, unimpressed. He is leaning against the doorframe like he owns the place, arms crossed over his chest. “You know, some of us don’t have the luxury of picking and choosing what we feel like doing.”
You glare at him, the storm in your chest now spilling over into your voice. “This has nothing to do with luxury, and you don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Oh, I don’t?” He steps further into the room, closing the door behind him with a deliberate click. “Let me guess. Little Miss Mitras is too delicate for a night of dancing and small talk? God forbid you rub shoulders with the peasants .”
“Fuck you,” you snap, heat rising to your face. “This isn’t about me being from Mitras.”
“Isn’t it?” He takes another step closer, and you can feel the weight of his stare, cold and cutting. “You don’t want to go because you don’t want to be uncomfortable. Because for once, things aren’t going your way, and you can’t handle it.”
“That’s not true!” Your voice rises, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough,” he says, his tone colder now, like ice slicing through the air. “I know you have had everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter your whole life. I know you have never had to fight for anything real. And I know that if Erwin lets you skip this, then he’d better let me skip it too, because you are not special.”
Your hands curl into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms. “This isn’t about special treatment . I have my reasons –”
“Spare me the sob story,” he interrupts, his voice dripping with contempt. “You think you are the only one with shit to deal with? We all have our demons. You don’t get to use yours as an excuse to sit this one out.”
“I am not using anything as an excuse!” The words come out louder than you intended, your chest heaving as you try to keep your voice steady. “You wouldn’t understand, Levi. You don’t know what it is like –”
“Oh, here we go,” he cuts you off again, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. “The ‘nobody understands me’ routine. Classic. You want to play the victim? Fine. But don’t expect me to give a shit.”
“Levi,” Erwin’s voice cuts through the tension, firm but calm. He’s been watching the exchange like a spectator at a chess match, waiting for the right moment to intervene. “That’s enough.”
“No, it is not,” Levi snaps, turning his glare on Erwin. “If she gets out of this, then so do I. Hell, let’s all stay behind and see how well that goes over.”
“Enough,” Erwin repeats, his tone sharper now.
Levi looks at you, his expression unreadable but no less cutting. “You are not special, Kim. Get over yourself.”
“You are impossible.” The words slip out before you can think better of it, sharp and venomous, aimed squarely at Levi. You are shaking, fists balled tight, nails biting crescents into your palms.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“ You heard me, ” you snap, stepping forward, even though every rational part of your brain screams at you to let it go. “You are impossible, Levi. You act like you know everything about everyone, like you are so goddamn superior...”
“Oh, but I know enough,” he fires back, stepping closer, his voice low and dangerous, the kind of tone that makes you shrink back. “You are a spoiled brat who thinks the world owes her something. Just because you have had a few hard days doesn’t mean you get to quit whenever it is inconvenient.”
“Hard days?” you spit, the words slicing through the air, your voice cracking with anger. “You arrogant, sanctimonious –”
“Enough!” Erwin’s voice is thunder, rolling through the room and crashing over both of you. He is standing now, his hands braced against the desk, his eyes sharp and cold. “Both of you, sit the hell down.”
“I am not sitting anywhere,” Levi mutters, crossing his arms, his jaw tight. “I am not the one throwing a tantrum because I don’t want to play dress-up for the gala.”
“And I am not the one acting like a fucking robot!” you shout, turning on him again. “Do you even have feelings, Levi? Or do you just look down on everyone who does?”
“Feelings don’t get the job done,” he snarls, his voice dripping with contempt. “You think I enjoy these galas? You think I don’t want to skip the bullshit and the politics and the ass-kissing? But I go. I show up because it’s my goddamn job. Because it is what’s expected of me.”
“And you think I don’t understand expectations?” you hiss, stepping closer, your voice shaking now, though not with fear. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to carry the weight of everyone’s eyes on you? To be judged for every word, every action, every fucking breath you take?”
“Please,” he sneers, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t pretend you are some tragic martyr. You have had everything handed to you—”
“ Enough! ” Erwin’s voice cuts through again, louder this time, his fists slamming onto the desk. “This ends now. Both of you.”
The room goes quiet, but the tension is still thick, suffocating. Your chest heaves, and your hands are trembling, but you refuse to back down, not in front of Levi, not after everything he is said.
And then, as if the universe knows you haven’t been humiliated enough, the door swings open again, and in walks Hange, her glasses slightly askew, her expression one of pure curiosity. “Well, well,” she says, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it, arms crossed. “What’s all the shouting about? Sounds like a goddamn soap opera in here.”
“Hange,” Erwin says, his voice tight, “this isn’t the time—”
“Oh, but it is always the time for a little drama,” she says with a grin, looking between you and Levi like a spectator at a boxing match. “What’s the issue? Let me guess. Levi being an asshole? Or Letta being... Letta?”
“Stay out of it, Hange,” Levi mutters, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s none of your business.”
“Oh, it is definitely my business if I have to hear about it later from Erwin,” she says, walking over and plopping herself into the chair opposite his desk. “So, spill. What’s the problem?”
“The problem,” you say, your voice still sharp, though quieter now, “is that someone thinks they have the right to judge me.”
“Right, because it’s all about you,” Levi snaps, throwing his hands up. “God forbid someone else have an opinion.”
“It is not an opinion when you are just being cruel,” you shoot back, your voice rising again. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”
“And you don’t get to act like you are above everyone else,” he fires back, stepping closer again, his eyes blazing.
“ Enough! ” Erwin says for the third time, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Hange, help me out here.”
Hange sighs, leaning back in the chair and adjusting her glasses. “Look, Letta,” she says, her tone more serious now, though still with that edge of amusement she never seems to lose. “I get it. Galas suck. People suck. But Erwin’s right. You are not going to send the wrong message. And Levi –” She turns to him, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe try not being a total dick for five minutes?”
Levi scoffs but doesn’t respond, his jaw tight.
“And you,” Hange says, turning back to you. “I know it is hard. But you have got to trust us. No one is going to let anything happen to you. We have got your back.”
Everyone goes silent.
Hange leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, and the faint creak of the wood seems louder than it should, cutting through the strained silence that has settled over the room. She’s studying you now, head tilted slightly, a bemused half-smile playing on her lips, like she is trying to decide whether to take this seriously or turn it into a joke. You can’t tell which option terrifies you more.
“So,” she says finally, drawing out the word as though it is a thread she’s trying not to snap, “are we going to pretend that didn’t just happen, or are we going to talk about it like civilized adults?”
You don’t answer. Neither does Levi, who is standing stiffly by the window now, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed somewhere outside, probably wishing he could leap out of it and be anywhere but here.
Erwin sighs, and it is the kind of sigh that feels weighted, like he is physically holding the room together with the force of his exasperation. “Hange,” he says, his voice measured, “this isn’t helping.”
“Oh, but I think it is,” she replies, her grin widening. “See, the problem here isn’t just the gala, or Levi’s charming personality, or Letta’s stubbornness—though those are definitely contributing factors. The problem is that the two of them are about as communicative as a pair of angry cats hissing at each other from opposite sides of a fence.”
“I’m not a fucking cat,” Levi mutters, still not turning around.
“No, you’re a porcupine,” you snap, unable to resist, even though you know it is the wrong time for it. “All quills and no warmth.”
“And you are a spoiled princess who thinks -” Levi starts, but Erwin cuts him off with a sharp look, his hand raised like a general commanding silence on the battlefield.
“Enough,” Erwin says, his tone low but firm, and for once, both you and Levi actually listen. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and fixes you both with a gaze that could probably freeze molten lava. “You two are going to talk this out. Like adults. Without insults, without shouting, and without dragging anyone else into it.”
You open your mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand, silencing you before you even start. “I am not asking,” he says. “This is not optional. You are both part of this team, and if you can’t work together, then we have a problem. A big one.”
Levi finally turns around, his expression unreadable but his posture radiating irritation. “Fine,” he says, his voice clipped. “But don’t expect a group hug or some shit.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Erwin replies dryly, then turns to you. “Letta?”
You bite your lip, the taste of salt and frustration filling your mouth. Every instinct is screaming at you to refuse, to walk out, to let Levi stew in his own self-righteousness. But Erwin’s gaze is unrelenting, and the weight of it presses down on you until you find yourself nodding. “Fine,” you mutter. “But don’t expect me to apologise.”
“No one is asking you to,” Erwin says, though his tone suggests he is very much hoping for some kind of miracle resolution that involves less hostility and fewer four-letter words.
Hange claps her hands together, the sound startling in the heavy air. “Well, this should be fun,” she says, her eyes gleaming with something that looks suspiciously like mischief. “I can’t wait to hear how this little heart-to-heart goes.”
“It is not going to be a heart-to-heart,” you snap, glaring at her. “It is going to be a... conversation. That’s it.”
“Sure,” Hange says, clearly unconvinced, and you can feel your irritation bubbling up again, like a kettle about to boil over.
“I will go to the gala,” you say suddenly, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. It’s not entirely a lie. You will go—at least, that’s what they will think. But in your mind, you are already planning your escape. A sudden illness, perhaps. Or a conveniently timed emergency. Something to get you out of there before the night can swallow you whole.
“Good,” Erwin says, nodding. “That’s the right decision.”
Is it, though? The thought slithers through your mind, cold and unwelcome. Because the truth is, you don’t believe it. Not for a second.
Levi makes a sound that might be a scoff, and you turn to glare at him. “What now?”
“Nothing,” he says, though his tone is anything but innocent. “Just wondering how long you will actually last before you find an excuse to bail.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you snap, your temper flaring again. “Not everyone is a soulless automaton like you.”
“Better than being a drama queen,” he shoots back, his voice like a whip cracking through the air.
“Levi,” Erwin warns, his tone sharp, but Levi just shrugs, his expression settling into something that looks like passive-aggressive peace.
“I am done,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “She can do whatever the hell she wants. Just don’t come crying to me when it all goes to shit.”
You don’t respond, your jaw tight and your hands clenched at your sides. The room feels too small, the walls pressing in, the air heavy with tension and unspoken words.
Hange breaks the silence, her voice light but her eyes serious. “You know, Levi, maybe you could try being a little less of an asshole. Just for one night. For the team.”
He snorts. “Yeah, sure. And maybe Letta can try not being so goddamn fragile.”
“That’s enough,” Erwin says again, and this time, his voice is like steel, cutting through the noise. “Both of you. Enough.”
Hange leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, and the faint creak of the wood seems louder than it should, cutting through the strained silence that has settled over the room.
.
.
,
The memory hits Levi, unbidden and unwanted. Six years ago. When Furlan and Isabel were still breathing. When everything was different, yet somehow still the same. He does not want to think about it, but the past is insistent, tugging at the edges of his thoughts, pulling him under like quicksand.
He remembers the day Letta Kim, Corporal Kim, technically, first rubbed him the wrong way. The day he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was not someone he could trust. That she was not someone like them .
The first time he notices her accent, they are in the middle of a debriefing. Commander Shadis is droning on about protocol, something about formation adjustments, and Levi is only half-listening, tuning in and out of the monotony. Letta, standing at perfect attention, interrupts.
“Sir, I believe the rear guard should maintain proximity to the second echelon during this maneuver,” she says, her tone clipped and precise, her words curving in that distinctive Mitrassian lilt. The kind of accent that wraps itself in smug self-assurance, the kind that sounds like it grew up in libraries and ballrooms and places Levi has never been welcome.
Furlan, standing beside him, snickers quietly. “She sounds like she is auditioning for a play,” he mutters under his breath. Levi smirks but does not respond. He does not need to. The irritation is already settling in, coiling tight in his chest.
She talks like she is better than everyone else, like every syllable is measured and deliberate. He hates it. He hates that he notices it.
It isn’t just one thing. It never is. Hatred, Levi thinks, is like rust; it creeps in slowly, quietly, until one day you are holding something that is completely corroded, and you are not even sure when it started falling apart.
Letta Kim is that kind of rust. She is a collection of small irritations, of moments so grating that they stick to his memory like burrs. None of them on their own should matter.
But together? Together, they are unbearable.
It is early morning, the kind of morning where the sun barely filters through the gray haze hanging over the camp. Levi sits on a rickety bench outside the barracks, Furlan on one side of him, Isabel on the other. They are sharing a stale loaf of bread between the three of them, cracking jokes about the piss-poor conditions and pretending like none of it matters. Like this isn’t just another day in the endless shitshow that is their lives.
That’s when she walks by. Corporal Kim, pristine as ever, her uniform crisp and her boots clicking against the stone path with a precision that seems almost unnatural. She looks like she belongs somewhere else, somewhere cleaner, brighter, better. Not here. Not in this filth.
Levi doesn’t pay her much mind at first. Why would he? She is just another stuck-up soldier in a sea of stuck-up soldiers. But then she stops. Pauses just a few feet away from them, her eyes flicking over the three of them like she’s assessing an unpleasant stain.
“Levi,” she says, her voice clipped and formal. “A word.”
He does not move. “What?” he says flatly, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone.
Her lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, he thinks she is going to snap at him. But she does not. Instead, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, holding it out to him like it is some kind of sacred artifact.
“This is the supply list for your team,” she says. “You are responsible for collecting these items by the end of the day.”
Levi stares at the paper but doesn’t take it. Something about the way she is holding it, the precise distance she is keeping from him, the way her fingers barely touch the edge of the parchment, grates on his nerves. “You could have just left it on the table,” he says, his voice icy.
Her expression doesn’t change, but there is a flicker of something in her eyes—annoyance, maybe, or disdain. “This is your job,” she says, her tone sharper now. “I am doing you a courtesy by handing it to you personally.”
“Oh, a courtesy,” he says, his lips curling into a mocking smile. “How generous of you, Corporal.”
“Just take the damn list,” she snaps, and he does, grabbing it out of her hand with more force than necessary. Her fingers barely graze his, but it is enough to make her recoil, her face twisting into a look of barely concealed disgust.
And then she does it. She pulls out a handkerchief, pure white, of course, and wipes her hand with it. Twice. As though his touch has somehow contaminated her.
Levi’s jaw clenches so hard it aches. He wants to say something, to call her out for the stuck-up, self-righteous bitch that she is, but before he can, Isabel’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade.
The memory shifts, morphs, dragging him to another moment. Later that same week. Isabel’s voice, hurt, echoing in his mind like a ghost.
“She washed her hands,” Isabel says, her voice shaking with barely contained tears. “Right in front of me. I shook her hand, big bro. I was trying to be polite, and she… she washed her hands. Like I am some kind of disease.”
Levi doesn’t know what to say. What can he say? He feels the same anger, the same humiliation, burning in his chest like a wildfire, but no words come. He just clenches his fists and stares at the ground, his mind racing.
“She thinks we are trash,” Isabel continues, her voice breaking now. “That’s what she thinks. That we are not good enough to even touch her.”
“Forget her,” he says, but it sounds hollow, even to his own ears.
Isabel shakes her head, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t,” she whispers. “I can’t forget it.”
Neither can he.
The memory fades, but the anger lingers, simmering just beneath the surface. It always does. It’s been six years, and he still can’t look at Letta Kim without remembering that moment. Without feeling that same searing hatred.
And the worst part? She probably does not even remember. To her, it was nothing. Just another day, another insignificant interaction. But to him, to Isabel, it was everything. It was a reminder of who they were. Of how the world saw them.
Of how she saw them.
And then there is the way she dresses. Most of them, when not in uniform, look like what they are: tired, broke, and clinging to whatever scraps of dignity they can find in threadbare jackets and patched-up boots.
But Letta? Letta looks like she’s stepped out of some Mitrassian fashion catalog.
One time, they are in town for supplies, blending into the crowd as best they can. Letta shows up wearing a coat so perfectly tailored it makes Levi’s secondhand jacket feel like a sack. Her boots are spotless, polished to a mirror shine, and her gloves, actual leather, not the cheap knockoffs the rest of them wear, look like they have never seen a hard day’s work in their life.
“You are gonna get us all killed, dressed like that,” Levi mutters as she approaches.
She raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into that faint, condescending smile he hates so much. “I was not aware attire could be fatal,” she says, her tone as cold as the Mitrassian winters she probably grew up in.
“It can when it screams ‘rich brat,’” he snaps. “You look like a walking target.”
She does not respond. Just brushes past him, the scent of lavender and something faintly floral lingering in the air. It makes him sick.
And then there is Isabel. Sweet, reckless Isabel, who always tries to see the good in people. She tells Levi one day, in a voice so quiet he almost doesn’t hear her, that Letta makes her feel small. That every time Letta looks at her, it is like she is being measured and found wanting.
“She doesn’t say anything,” Isabel whispers, her eyes downcast. “But I can tell she is judging me. Like I am not good enough to be here. Like I am just some stupid kid.”
Levi doesn’t know how to respond. He hates Letta more in that moment than he ever has before. Because Isabel is not stupid. She is brave and loyal and everything Letta Kim will never understand.
It all piled up. The accent. The clothes. The attitude. The way she talks to them, like they are beneath her. The way she looks at them, like they are dirt under her pristine boots. Levi knows it is not fair to hate someone for being born into privilege, but knowing doesn’t make it any easier.
Letta Kim is everything he is not. Educated. Polished. Comfortable. She is from a world he’s never been part of, a world that is always looked down on people like him. And no matter what she does, no matter how many rules she enforces or orders she barks, he will always see her as the enemy.
The thing about hunger is, it doesn’t care how proud you are. It doesn’t care how long you have spent pretending that everything is fine, that you are above it, that you can muscle through without bending. When your stomach’s empty, it is a slow gnawing, a quiet, insidious thing that works its way into your bones and skin until it becomes the only thing that matters. You stop thinking about the rules. You stop thinking about pride, about shame, about what is right and wrong, and all that matters is food.
The Survey Corps is broke at that time and it's not just some passing inconvenience; it is a suffocating, omnipresent reality that hangs over everyone like a cloud of rot. It is not just the uniforms that are falling apart or the weapons that are barely usable, it is the food. They get just enough to keep their bodies from shutting down entirely, just enough to make it through the next day, but nothing more. Not enough to fill the hole in your stomach that’s gnawing at you.
He does not blame Isabel. She is young, impulsive, and starving like the rest of them. So when she sees the opportunity, a crate of supplies left unattended for just a moment too long, she takes it. Just an apple. Something fresh. Something real. Something that doesn’t taste like misery.
But, of course, Letta sees her. Letta, who always seems to be lurking in the background, her eyes catching every infraction, every tiny step out of line. Levi doesn’t know how she does it.
Maybe it is the Mitrassian upbringing, the endless training in etiquette and discipline. Or maybe she is just naturally insufferable. Either way, Isabel doesn’t stand a chance.
The scene unfolds in the dim light of the storage room, shadows stretching long and thin across the walls. Isabel freezes, the stolen apple clutched tightly in her hand, her face a mixture of guilt and defiance. Letta steps forward, her boots clicking against the wooden floor with a precision that makes Levi’s teeth grind.
“What do you think you are doing?” Letta’s voice is not loud, not yet, but there is a dangerous edge to it. The kind that promises a storm is coming.
Isabel stammers, her fingers curling around the apple as if she can somehow will it out of existence. “I… I was just…”
“Stealing,” Letta finishes for her, her tone as cold as the steel of. She crosses her arms, her posture impossibly straight, her expression unreadable. “From the Survey Corps. During a financial crisis. Do you have any idea how serious this is?”
Isabel’s eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape that is not there. Levi knows that look. It is the look of someone cornered, someone who’s already decided they’re going to lose no matter what they say.
“I was hungry,” Isabel mutters finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
“And you think that excuses theft?” Letta snaps, her voice rising now, filling the room with its sharp, clipped cadence. “Do you think you are the only one who is hungry? The only one who is struggling? We are all starving, Isabel. Every single one of us. But you don’t see the rest of us breaking the rules, do you?”
Levi feels his fists clench at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He wants to step in, to tell Letta to back off, to leave Isabel alone. But he doesn’t. Not yet. Because he knows if he does, it will only make things worse.
Letta leans closer, her eyes narrowing. “Do you have any idea what could happen if I report this? Do you? Because I can. I can take this straight to Commander Shadis, and you will be out of here before you can even pack your things.”
Isabel flinches, her knuckles white against the apple’s smooth surface. Levi knows that flinch. It is not fear, it is humiliation. It is the sting of being caught, of being made to feel small and worthless. And he hates Letta for it.
“That’s enough,” Levi says finally, his voice low and steady, cutting through Letta’s tirade like a blade. He steps forward, placing himself between her and Isabel, his glare cold and unyielding.
Letta straightens, her expression unreadable again. “This is not your concern, Levi.”
“It is now,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She is a kid. She made a mistake. Let it go.”
Letta’s eyes narrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, he thinks she is going to push back, to argue, to call him out in front of everyone. But then she steps back, her arms still crossed, her gaze still cold.
“Fine,” she says, her voice tight. “But if it happens again, I will report it. I won’t let this unit fall apart because of a lack of discipline.”
Levi does not respond. He doesn’t trust himself too. Instead, he turns to Isabel, who is still clutching the apple like it is her lifeline. “Go,” he says quietly. “Now.”
Isabel hesitates, her eyes darting between him and Letta, before nodding and slipping out of the room.
When she is gone, the silence is deafening. Levi turns back to Letta, his glare colder than the air outside.
“You don’t have to be such a bitch,” he says finally, his voice low but filled with venom.
“Discipline keeps us alive,” she says simply, her tone as detached as ever.
“Starving people don’t give a shit about discipline,” he snaps. “You think yelling at her is gonna make her forget she is hungry?”
Letta doesn’t respond. She just walks away, her boots clicking against the floor again, the sound fading into the distance.
Levi watches her go, his jaw tight, his fists still clenched. He knows it is not just about the apple. It is not just about the rules or the discipline or the hunger. It is about her. About the way she carries herself, like she is better than all of them. Like she is above the hunger and the desperation and the pain.
And maybe she is. Maybe she’s got some secret stash of food hidden away somewhere, eating her fill while the rest of them starve. It wouldn’t surprise him. People like her always have a way of looking out for themselves.
#levi ackerman#anime#manga#attack on titan#levi x reader#fanfiction#shingeki no kyojin#aot#snk#cielettosa#cielettosa fics#enemies to lovers
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Good Omens fic recs
Hello all! Wanted to share a few of my longtime faves. These are all pre-s2, might do another with my post-s2 recs? Narrowed it down to 10, since that's the max links tumbl lets you have in a post.
Any Way You Want It
Author: Justkeeptrekkin Words: 27,500 Chapters: 5/5 Rating: Mature Mood: Vacation, soft but introspective After finally getting heaven and hell off their backs (at a cost) Crowley and Aziraphale go on holiday to a cottage in Scotland. Fluffy with fun snappy dialogue, the two really feel like best friends here! Aziraphale struggles with his tendency to go slower than even he wants.
Instructions Not Included
Author: Atalan Words: 68,000 Chapters: 13/13 Rating: Teen Mood: Detective / Gen (There are feelings but it earns that slowburn tag) My "if season 2 isn't good, this is my season 2" fic. Now, I liked season 2, but this is still SO good. After the notpocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley start a detective agency investigating supernatural happenings together. New characters include Raphael (who totally missed the apocalypse haha whoops), and a big spooky dog (whomst I adore). Note that while this fic stands just fine on its own, there is an unfinished sequel that imo doesn't leave off anywhere stressful.
When in Rome
Author: Kedreeva Words: 4,000 Rating: General Mood: The liminal space of nighttime conversations What happens after Aziraphale invites Crowley to oysters: Wings and reading. Tentative and innocent in those early days.
the deft, sweet gesture of your hand
Author: deadgreeks Words: 12,000 Rating: Explicit Mood: Hurt/Comfort, introspection A few years after the failed apocalypse Crowley shows up badly injured at the bookshop. Aziraphale has to help heal Crowley and save them both, and still finds the time to knit his feelings.
Chemistry
Author: Twilightcitysky Words: 122,000 Chapters: 19/19 Rating: Explicit Mood: Y'ever want a side of learning something with your romcom? After realizing they might need their own corporations to heal themselves now that they're not working for heaven and hell, Aziraphale and Crowley turn on all their bodily functions. All of them. What could be a silly premise is played out very satisfyingly, the actual biology of hormones at play here is fascinating. (this is not really at all related but: has anyone else read Peeps by Scott Westerfeld? Because the format reminded me of this in that it did a similar thing of playing straight the concept of "what could cause vampires to be real" that drew on inspiration from real life parasites interspersed between the chapters. I dig it. Anyway!)
Reservations
Author: AnnetheCatDetective Words: 10,000 Chapters: 3/? (Technically unfinished, but leaves off in a satisfying spot) Rating: Not Rated Mood: Meta (Character study as story) “There's some competition for Aziraphale and Crowley's usual table at the Ritz…” A couple of miracles bend reality and, well… you ever been like, “The boys need therapy, but who could possibly give it to them?” I love crossovers where the TV boys meet other versions of themselves, this one is my favorite.
i can't say the words, so i wrote you into my verse
Author: mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday) Words: 5,000 Rating: Teen Mood: Snapshots through history "Crowley has tattoos and every few centuries, Aziraphale discovers a new one." Simple and paints a lovely picture.
By Definition
Author: idiopathicsmile Words: 3,000 Rating: Explicit Mood: Smutty but fond A night together after the Ritz fic where Aziraphale is asexual and Crowley isn’t and how that works for them. The dialogue here is positively delightful.
Bark Dust
Author: rfsmiley Words: 8,000 Rating: Mature (mostly for injuries) Mood: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Historical Crowley is very badly injured in a battle, and Aziraphale has to figure out how to save his life.
Tell Me A Story
Author: brilliant_or_insane Words: 5,000 Rating: Teen Mood: Soft and warm Aziraphale likes telling stories and Crowley likes to listen. But when the demon is dissatisfied by sad endings and can't relate to the happy ones, Aziraphale decides to move them forward by telling a new story. (Of course, Crowley isn't entirely satisfied with the angel's perspective on that one either.)
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20 Questions: Writing Edition
Thanks, @nocryptographer!
How many works do you have on ao3?
8 so far
What’s your total ao3 word count? 291,622 including several co-written works, so not all those words are mine. My personal count is probably closer to 240k?
What are your top five fics by kudos?
Hunting Creatures
Fangs for the Memories
Jury Duty: The Flowers of Evil
Closing Shift
Refusal
What fandoms do you write for?
Baldur's Gate 3
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do! Sometimes it takes me a while, though. But I really love and appreciate hearing from people, so I do make a point of acknowledging that.
What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Refusal
Do you get hate on fics?
Hasn't happened yet.
Do you write smut?
Oh yeah I do. Lots.
The only thing I have on Ao3 that isn't rated E for sex is The Vampire's Verses (Astarion's poetry collection, rated M), and that still gets rather sexy at times.
Do you write crossovers?
Nope
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Nope
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope
Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
Yes!
What’s your all time favourite ship?
Strixstarion, if that wasn't obvious (Strix, my female OC, and Astarion)
What’s the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Fangs for the Memories
What are your writing strengths?
Physicality, sensation, emotional nuance, imagery. I think I'm thoughtful and imaginative, in language use and larger story concepts.
Smut.
What are your writing weaknesses?
I could be more disciplined about editing/final read-throughs. I don't think this bites me too hard, because I write pretty methodically in the first place (I seem to be incapable of doing the whole "throw the words down first, go back through them later" thing- have always struggled with timed writing, for that reason). But I definitely find unnecessarily awkward sentences and paragraphs in stuff I've published, that presumably could have been fixed or improved had I not been rushing through a final read-through/revision run with zero remaining brain cells and executive function.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
In general? idk... if it works and makes sense, then it works and makes sense. Hasn't come up for me personally.
First fandom you wrote for?
Baldur's Gate 3
Favourite fic you’ve ever written?
Don't make me choose between Hunting Creatures and Jury Duty.
****
Tagging @vividiana @preciouslittlebhaalbae @arzen9 @nw39
#bg3 fanfiction#ao3 writer#bg3 astarion#astarion x oc#astarion x tav#astarion ancunin#archive of our own#astarion smut#fanfic writing
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the bracing winds are almost enough to force you to turn around. faint recognition reverberates from the ancient soil beneath your feet && instinctively you know that you are being watched. you only notice that your hands are shaking as you raise them to grasp the fluttering lapels of your coat— taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you pull the fabric tighter around you. upon the distant horizon you spy a dilapidated ruin of a castle, foreboding... alive. ❞
... all of that and more is the clan tzimisce. the dragons mark the carpathian mountains as their territory— a fount of power dating back to ancient times, LONG BEFORE THE RISE OF ROME. the gift received upon being embraced by a tzimisce vampire is that of metamorphosis, and they have perfected the art in ways other kindred could not even begin to grasp. why rely on the protean forms of the bat and the wolf when one may become one with the soil of their haven? look as another? transcend the limitations of gender, or the prison of a humanoid body.
therein lies the VICE OF TZIMISCE: covetousness. possession. be it their domain, their charges, an object or a person. it is a compulsion they cannot flee, and to satisfy the call of their blood a lure impossible to ignore. all aspirations of a tzimisce will come to a head at the culmination of power— although the way to reach it will vary from one kindred to another.
as this verse is supplementary to mordú's modern verse, his origins remain similar. he remains mínluben duțescu, born in brașov, however in 1823. in those times, romania was the stage of many revolutions seeking independence and a unified wallachia and moldavia. mínluben was turned sometime in 1860, as the tzimisce dracon at the time had personal interested in seeing the principalities of moldavia and wallachia united && mínluben had played no small part in seeing that alexandru ioan cuza ascends to the throne. thus drawing the attention of the dracon upon himself.
══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════
throughout the decades, mínluben, who takes up the name of mordú, finds himself adjusting rather spectacularly to his rebirth into cainite society. in the years leading up to the 21st century he finds himself in countless roles and functions. from being a statesman, to a soldier, to a gang leader, university professor and much more. although tzimisce vampires do not mesh well with humans, mordú often finds himself entangled in the matters of sheep— by fascination and necessity both.
CURRENTLY ...
... MORDÚ ENTERTAINS A HAVEN, a sanctuary for other kindred to frequent and seek shelter. it operates out of old, isolated subway tunnels in new york city and is fronted by an exclusive speakeasy named asakku, where humans may also frequent— unaware of what lies right beneath their feet. there, mordú honors the strict && ancient laws of hospitality that are inherent to his clan. being as old as he is, mordú may offer knowledge, tutelage and aid to younger kindred— though all that goes beyond hospitality requires a price. perhaps this is just how he succumbs to the vice of his tzimisce blood. either way, your muse will find out sooner or later.
same as in his modern verse, mordú deals in occult knowledge as well as antique artifacts to both, vampires and humans.
══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════
𝖕𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖘
vicissitude : the art of flesh && bone shaping. allows the complete remaking of one's body, once powerful enough, and the making of ghouls.
auspex : the heightening && sharpening of one's senses to superhuman levels. may include the reading of one's aura, knowing when one is being lied to, learning something about a previous owner by touching an object.
dominate : enthrall a person to do one's bidding, not without risk.
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖜𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞
a guest is entitled to nourishment for three days and three nights.
a guest is entitled to protection against third-party aggressors.
a guest is entitled to the best quarters of the home, including the hosts own chambers.
however, a guest must also abide by some obligations to receive such treatment.
a guest will exchange a gift or service with the host.
a guest will respect the hosts boundaries and property.
a guest will not needlessly anger the host.
a guest may not stay longer than the duration of days and nights they are entitled to, unless invited.
𝖌𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖞
kindred : term for other vampires within vampiric society
cainites : term for the vampiric race, among vampires. however is kindred is favored in modern times
haven : a sanctuary for vampires, unknown to humans. a place to demonstrate ones true nature
dracon : an elder of the tzimisce clan specifically ( other clans have different terms )
disclaimer: this verse draws heavy inspiration from vampire: the masquerade! the clan tzimisce and information pertaining to them, the listed powers as well as some terms such as cainites, kindred are taken from the ttrpg source material. it's a wonderful ressource for building vampires and supplementing one's own thoughts as it has, in my opinion, the most detailed and lovingly crafted lore on vampires currently available. not to mention that the rule books etc are written so beautifully & atmospheric. if any of you are interested, i do have pdfs and i am more than willing to share them.
#;; verse 02 ( kindred (vampire verse) )#i can honestly say this is a labor of love#i am extremely excited to share this godd!#pls come yell with me if you are interested#like#if anyone is interested in interconnected lore...
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hi! I feel a little bit bad for asking since you JUST posted "Time" (the monster handler AU), but would you mind giving any HCs/details about the verse? Like (if you need ideas):
assuming the insectoid is Roach, what're his abilities?
what is demon!Ghost's personality?
what eras are Soap & Gaz originally from?
what event led to Price summoning Ghost?
also: the moment I read that Nik was some kind of lycan, the term "bear" came to mind 😅 anyway, I always love your drabbles/ficlets! It's like getting a new episode of my favorite show! Have a great weekend...oh & what kind of monster would YOU want to be?
I don’t mind at all! I have been wanting to talk about it :)
———
Roach is indeed an insectoid! His face is mostly human but he still covers up to hide it from everyone. He doesn’t think he’s ugly or anything (some have described his face “moth-like” with ant antenna) he just had too many run-ins with people who are deathly afraid of bugs.
• He has regenerative abilities (if he loses an arm it will grow back the next time he molts). But if more serious damage is done to something like his head or chest, he won’t be able to recover from that.
• Roach has venom (it paralyzes whoever he bites but if he injects too much it can cause lasting damage to their nerves). Roach has accidentally made someone permanently lose all feeling and function in everything below their waist. Now he’s very careful when using his venom.
• He can stay underwater up to twenty-four hours before he needs to get air (this is helpful since he isn’t a very good swimmer)
• Roach is pretty strong. Not fifty times his own body weight strong but more like twenty (he has picked up a couple teammates and ran because they were in danger and the assholes weren’t listening to him).
• Roach loves sweets. He’ll eat anything without complaint (he’s eaten rotten carcasses before) but sweets are his absolute favorite.
• And, last of all, Roach can communicate and control some insects or creepy crawlies! He’s like the ultimate bug queen (don’t call him that). Flies, ants, roaches— They all listen to him. Bugs also tend to stick around him (he attracts them).
-
Ghost more or less the same. Though everyone questions if he genuinely cares about his team and the people he works with or if it’s just a ploy. He mostly sticks around Price (for obvious reasons) but he does venture out on his own (no one knows what he does). He’s good at hiding that he’s a demon and people tend to only find out when someone tells them. Ghost never likes revealing what he is to people unless the absolutely have to know (it causes distrust and that isn’t good for missions).
-
Soap is much older than Gaz and follows the old vampire laws. Cannot enter a privately owned building without verbal permission, contact with sunlight is almost always lethal, can’t tolerate garlic, can’t eat human food without projectile vomiting— all the things people know vampires for. His much older bloodline is the cause for him having to follow these strict laws (and he’s miserable because of it). Soap was turned against his will centuries ago in Scotland around 1300 (where he was born) by a woman that was supposed to be his bride. He’s long cut contact with her, not agreeing with her idea of changing him so they could be together forever.
Gaz is much, much younger than Soap. He was born shortly after WWII ended in England and was turned around 1963. He says he was turned unwillingly by vampire who he would later kill. This act should have cured him of his vampirism but he remained a vampire (it is uncertain why). Because of Gaz’s bloodline, he doesn’t have to follow the old vampire laws (sometimes he does so in a mocking/teasing way).
-
Price summoned Ghost years ago after his captain was brutally tortured and murdered by an organization that would later be revealed to be lead by Vladimir Makarov, a descendant of what people believe to be Dracula himself (though Dracula is more or less a over hyped vampire that many agree wasn’t the strongest or even a well liked vampire).
Price knew that he, as a simple human, wouldn’t be able to stand a chance against Makarov so he made a spur of the moment decision to find a way to fight him. One dug up corpse and ritual later (which resulted in the Zaragoza Drug Cartel in being massacred), Price would summon a demon that he would later name Ghost. This all happened before he met Laswell or Nik, of course.
If he had something in his life worth keeping, someone to care for or look out for him, he wouldn’t have sold his soul. But he was young, upset over his captain’s death, and he wanted to do something about it. Dwelling on it won’t change anything, so Price has just accepted that Ghost will someday eat his soul.
Until then, they have work to do.
-
Yes, Nik is a bear-like lycan. He has blond fur with dark roots which led to Price nicknaming him ‘Blondie’. Considering Nik’s human form has black hair, no one gets why Price calls him that (until they see Nik turn, that is).
-
Dragon. Dragon anything, really. Fucking love dragons omg-
#another monster au#things to know#call of duty#cod mwii#modern warfare ii#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#john price#kyle gaz garrick#cod nikolai#drabble#ask#thanks for the ask <3#monster au
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How do you think 09 v Reboot MW would fair in the SPN verse?
Would be creatures or hunters?
how’d they react to the characters from SPN and in a fair fight who would win?
YOU HAVE UNLOCKED SOMETHING IN ME!
Okay this whole thing is very complicated let's break it down.
First of all I think either could be both depending on the vibe you are going for but here is my first thoughts on it.
22-
Soap: hunter
Ghost: creature (werewolf or vampire maybe)
Gaz: hunter
Price: hunter
09-
Tav: toss up maybe originally Hunter turned creature I want to say vampire..... For Obvious reasons
Riley: creature (I would like to say Wendigo I really would but that might not fit quite in the universe... I'm going to say it anyway)
Roach: creature (Hell maybe he could be a Phoenix that would be very interesting considering they're all dead)
Price: Hunter but like Gordon vibes
React is a good question... There are so many characters I could go on about... Honestly it might be easier to ask about a specific character but I'm just going to do a vague overall. So TFW + Gabriel (because he is the best character)
Sam- He likes all the 22 boys honestly (probably a particular liking in Soap) he probably is just curious about their lives. 09 probably extremely hesitant but even more interested. He hates Price because Price is far too much like John.
Dean- He finds a keen spirit in Ghost and finds Soap fascinating. Hates 09 Price and probably wants to kill Riley. Tav is off-putting and he is confused by Roach and asks him a metric shit ton of questions.
Cas- He really don't care about any of them except for Riley and Roach probably he just wants to understand how they function and why (09) Price isn't dead
Gabriel - He loves the 22 boys and will treat Ghost like a pet. Soap is displeased but can't do shit about it. He finds Soap fun to poke and prod at and likes to call Price a child.
09- He wants to put Riley in a jar and study him. And he is so found of Roach (kindred spirits those two both can't FUCKING DIE) . Tav gets the trickster special because he isn't found of where he is headed and Price is free game to hunt.
(there is more Gabriel because I understand how far better then any other character.)
And in a fight?? That's not really a fair question... Because it's the Winchester's..... They can beat any character in fiction let's be honest here.
Castiel alone bodies. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ BUT I don't think that's the answer you want. So instead let's break it down.
They both have military tactics they are both honed in their craft. Tactics wise I don't know who actually wins It might be a toss-up. Would I like to give it to the Captain? Yes! Would he actually come out on top? I'm not sure.
Fighting wise again toss up they really are evenly matched in my mind.
The thing is the Winchester's have the advantage they know more than any hunter in the world because of the bunker.
If we're not counting just how overpowered the Winchester's are for the numerous reasons they are not only because God made them that powerful. They are honestly two sides of the same coin so I'm the end It might just be a draw ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#call of duty modern warfare#cod modern warfare#john soap mactavish#captain mactavish#09 ghost#simon ghost riley#captain price#kyle gaz garrick#gary roach sanderson#09 price#09 mactavish#09 soap#Spn#Supernatural#gabriel#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#resi responds
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From Criminial Mastermind to Fairy Tale Hero: The End of Artemis Fowl
Here we are, everyone: The final Artemis Fowl book. It has been a journey revisiting the first series I was old enough to follow and fandom, and it's wild to me that we're finally at the end. Especially since I picked up the first Artemis Fowl book in late elementary school (I'm genuinely not sure when though, because the first book came out in April of 2001, when I was in fifth grade and it's very possible I didn't pick the book up until sixth grade, which would have put me at 11, same age as Artemis in that first book) and the final book came out in 2012, when I was in my junior year of undergrad. So at that point, Artemis, Holly, and Butler had been part of my life for a long time. And now here we are, to say goodbye to them again after this leisurely re-listen/read. Let's talk Artemis Fowl: The Last Guardian.
Artemis grew and changed so much across eight books, which makes sense because holy cow do kids change a LOT between 11 and 15. We get so busy living life in those years that we don't really think about how much we truly learn and grown between prepubescence and full-on teenagerhood, but that is a time of massive change, and I think that more than anything else really justifies how Artemis goes from a chillingly vampiric child to a teenager with enough compassion and empathy to understand that sometimes the right choice is a heroic self-sacrifice for the people that your people (both humans and the people, in this case) love. Artemis also did a really interesting version of that thing so many teenagers do where they hit a point where they can't just phone in their abilities anymore and have to actually put effort in, but for Artemis it was emotional rather than intelligence. And yet even when making said heroic sacrifice, we have the absolutely beautiful callback to the end of book one, where Artemis drugs his mother, Butler, and Juliet to keep them from being harmed by the bio-bomb. To stop Holly from preventing him from stopping Opal, Artemis sedates her. The more things change, the more they stay the same...
Except where best villain ever Opal Koboi is concerned. By this book, Opal is so disconnected from reality that she is willing to risk literally going nuclear to escape captivity, and then just...casually sparks off the apocalypse because if there is one thing our girl wants, it's to be Empress of the World, and if that means using spirit zombies and an ancient fairy doomsday device, then I guess it's a good thing she's already versed in black magic. Or something. Opal is fully and completely off the rails at this point, and if you catch yourself referring to yourself as "Mommy" in reference to the spirits of several scores of ancient elven berserkers who would--barring a geas--murder you for it, you might want to stop and take a long, hard look at your life choices. And maybe don't forget that you've cloned yourself, because that's the kind of little detail that can completely ruin your chances of being Empress of the World.
Holly quite possibly deserves every medal that exists for managing to drag Artemis's extremely out-of-shape butt through increasingly dangerous and high-stakes missions while navigating fairy politics and *checks notes* breaking up with her commanding officer after a disastrous date where they both got kicked out of a crunchball match. (And once again...HOW DARE Colfer leave this in exposition and not show us this amazing disaster of a date!?!?) Holly has also just been through the emotional wringer with Artemis and every time he decided to double-cross or lie by omission to bring off a plan and every time he does something infuriatingly human that drives up her blood pressure and yet makes the mission succeed. And then she has to sit there and watch him die to save humans and fairies. Seriously, the fact that Holly Short is a functional being rather than a hot mess is nothing short of a miracle.
And then we come to Butler. Long-suffering, super fucking over it, broken-hearted Domovoi Butler. Artemis got DAMN lucky that the whole "put my spirit in a clone of me" plan panned out, because if it hadn't, Holly was entirely correct: Butler would never have recovered. Butler and Opal might be my two favorite characters in the entire series at this point. That's not where I started--for a very long time, Holly was my favorite character, and Commander Root still gets an honorable mention--but as a grown-ass adult (I'm not doing that math for you, if you want to know that I'm old, you do the math), I cannot escape how dedicated, competent, kind, and just AWESOME Butler is. I feel like the vibe here is very similar to the thing that happens when you watch Sound of Music as a kid and either Maria or one of the kids is your favorite character, but when you come back to it as an adult, Captain Von Trapp is EVERYTHING (RIP Christopher Plummer, we loved you). Butler has a similar vibe but in a different genre.
So, I was an adult and had enough experience of watching fandoms to see the mixed reactions to this book being released. People were sad the series was ending, people were disappointed because the series had seemingly drifted, and people loved it. My reaction was pretty mixed, because I had a lot going on, I knew there were good things here but I was also kind of missing the heisty, criminal mastermind vibes, but also OPAL KOBOI. So I was pretty unsure how to feel about this book when it came out, and then I didn't reread it for literal years because I went to grad school.
Returning to this book now, I have suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuch respect for how Colfer tied up the series and how he pulled off a new Irish mythological cycle, but updated for the twenty-first century. I have enough life on me to appreciate the changes Artemis goes through, and enough literature degrees to have a new and deeply fulfilling perspective on the series structure. Last Guardian is not my favorite book of the series--it's not even in the top three--but I think that what it does is genuinely impressive and I love how you can finish this book and go instantly back into the OG Artemis Fowl. The story does not, strictly speaking, have to end. And that is a vibe I can 100% get behind.
I deeply love the Artemis Fowl books, and I cannot recommend the series enough. They have so many strengths, are incredibly well-written, and they live rent-free in my head even now as an adult.
#artemis fowl#eoin colfer#artemis fowl the last guardian#artemis fowl and the last guardian#domovoi butler#holly short#opal koboi#children's literature#children's books#books and reading#books & libraries#books and novels#books#book recommendations#middle grade sci fi#middle grade books#middle grade fantasy#middle grade fiction
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What's the magic system for destroyer like? I think Delta has been described with electricity magic, but also that he has psychic powers (which means telekinesis to me but idk) but also that he can explode large swaths of land, but also that he has a sixth sense of landscapes that gets overwhelming when he uses his powers. I might be misremembering some of this. Also that other people in the destroyer verse have their own unique power sets sometimes. I'm kinda curious about the mechanics for this particular world.
lol yeah delta is overpowered and im admittedly kind of inconsistent about how his powers manifest.
but technically the only psychic power he has is telekinesis. it's a very powerful telekinesis! everything else is downstream of that. the way he destroys large swaths of land is basically by crushing it/compressing it so quickly that everything inside implodes. i guess energy is released in the process which explains why light is emitted sometimes or why there's weird chemical reactions. the aura is all glowy. the "sixth sense" is just a function of the telekinesis...he just becomes acutely aware of everything that he can manipulate which is why its overwhelming. there the power functions as a kind of sensory organ. i always imagined telekinesis requires a heightened spatial awareness because i cant imagine its easy to use without it. i dont consider that a power in and of itself.
the electricity thing is actually just because hes an eel :D !!! but i think the high psychic energy also makes the electrical discharge stronger so theyre related in that sense.
i really didnt put a lot of thought into the magic system tbh and tend to just treat the psychic abilities like superpowers. i think the general rule is that you really only get one but it can be used in different ways.
psychics aren't very common and they're a specific class of people. there are other weird magicy things going on in this universe and theyre not all directly because of psychics. lun is a vampire. why? no one knows.
(the real answer is that this whole thing was developed from an even larger daydream universe and some of the ideas didnt carry cleanly over without the necessary context. though honestly that universe's vision isn't much more diligent in how it handles these things. i kinda just do what i want and reverse engineer it into making sense.)
thanks for the question :D
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Ok bucktommy nation I'm preemptively deciding what to write tomorrow based on the replies to this post
🕑 for the time traveler tommy fic
feat. fall out boy title inspo, pre-118 buck, post-breakup tommy, and probably smatterings of the former tommy/abby engagement
🧛♂️ for the urban fantasy AU
feat. vampire!buck, werewolf!118, and a whole lot of rambling about tommy's life in the small-town version of los angeles i decided to make
🦸♂️ for the superpower AU
feat. nonpilot!flying!tommy, mentor!bobby, and a buck who might literally have too much of an effect on the people around him
👨🏫 for the coma!verse/canonverse xover
feat. mathgenius!buck, hitman!tommy, physicist!karen and hopefully a scene where i get to bitch about how both bucks are smart if you're not an asshole
❓️ for the mystery option
feat. unbelievable feats of impossibility, my personal homage to "all body is horror, actually," childhood trauma being over but watch out, and buck learning more about himself (usually against his will)
*disclaimer: I am NOTORIOUS for not finishing shit so there's a high chance these fics may only live in the little posts I make about them, but also maybe not? maybe one day my executive functioning will return from the war
Tl;dr: reply with an emoji to make me work on a specific fic. Multiple replies/emojis accepted. Final reply tally will be checked around 10am EST 11/27/24 so 🤞 really hoping I can wake up to a decision without switching between my documents lol
#bucktommy#my post#evan buckley#tommy kinard#weewoo time travel tommy fic#weewoo urban fantasy fic#weewoo comacanonverse fic#weewoo buckley's law fic#weewoo superpower fic#mpreg
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Verse- Marvel AU Deadpool variant
Originally Katerina Petrova, Katherine was born in Bulgaria to a family with archaic morals. So when she had a not so happy run in with a man who manipulated her and ended up having a baby out of wed lock she was disowned and exiled. Never saw her baby again- GASP! So FAR!
Katerina found her way to the Americas where she integrated into the culture very quickly, learning to drop her accent in record time and the language almost as fast. Three months in and you could hardly tell she wasn't native.
Katerina got a job waiting tables at a local diner but was still struggling to make ends meet. One day a man named Trevor approached her and told her of an opportunity where she could earn some money if she was willing to undergo an experimental procedure. He billed it as low risk, and the possibility to help people. After a few days debate, Katerina accepted the offer and was taken to meet a man named Klaus Mikaelson.
As it turns out it was actually highly invasive and was meant to trigger dormant mutant genes into activation. (after his mother had done something similar to him and his siblings he became obsessed with perfecting and unleashing his true potential)
It took a long time to trigger Kathrine's and the process was excruciatingly painful. Needless to say her social standing with this fuck is not friendly. One night while running her mouth Klaus sent her to a torture chamber of sorts to teach her a lesson that ultimately ended up triggering her dormant Gene and how she escaped. In doing so she destroyed his whole facility and every bit of research data he had gathered (hes very old school he doesnt like computers "impersonal" and "Hackable") Jokes on him at least they're less flammable.
Angered with her slight against him Klaus set about a mission to kill her for what she had done, which has kept Katerina, now Katherine on the run for quite a few years.
Down the road while living under the radar Katherine learned how to fight, and got damn good at it. She also met a man named Stefan Salvatore who she fell for instantly. This proved a problem several years into their relationship when she caught wind Klaus was on her tail and had to bolt without explanation. Obviously to protect him.
Powers and weaknesses: oooooo patriotic
immune to all sickness
hella regeneration factor she can regrow limbs and even her entire body if need be
super strength and speed
healing factor
telepathic resistance
immortality
the most insane wit you've ever heard
highly trained and skilled fighter.
Sharp retractable fangs (oop! Didn't think I'd leave out her vampirism roots did you?)
runs her mouth way too much
breaks the 4th wall
needs blood to be able to function correctly* (preferably human)
Incredible allergy to direct sunlight, it burns her skin like acid
wood slows her regenerative abilities
Wishes Stefan were Wolverine and gets lost in day dreams.
*Little side note thingie down here-
If she doesn't drink blood all of her powers weaken but mostly she gets this horrible brain fog that prevents her from thinking clearly and she will eventually desiccate and be rendered a cognitive husk- still immortal. It's not pretty folks.
The suit actually is designed to protect her from the sun. It's why shes covered head to toe.
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heyyyy it's been a while!
i have some tvd lore thoughts for you that i'm interested to pick your brain on. we've only really seen a couple of rippahs in the verse (stefan, lillian, mg) and while stefan's case was meant to be genetic due to lillian i do remember a speech alaric gave kaleb about why mg was predisposed to rippahdom that stuck in my mind and made me wonder... so what collection of traits do you think makes it more likely for a vampire to become a rippah and why do you think it might be?
i find the parallels between rippahs and addictive personality traits to be fascinating, in particular.
There's also Jade from Legacies, but you can be forgiven for forgetting her because she contributed nothing to this topic LOL.
To be fair, the 'verse itself was more interested in Stefan's ripperness than in any of the others, if maybe inconsistently. What it meant for Lily to be a ripper, outside of adding a genetic predisposition to Stefan's plight, was barely touched upon, with a mention about how her ~found family helped rein it in (social support being really important to combat addition); I think there could've been more done with Julian and Lily on this front, him being a clearly not-establishing-influence lol, but alas.
Meanwhile, with MG, there was little about it after season 1, to my recollection? That and his family subplot, which was sommething I found quite interesting, were cut out, to my disappointment. I would've preferred the show did something by following either of those threads than what it ended up writing for him for most of the show, tbh.
But in terms of personality MG and Stefan are definitely the closests of all we meet, so I'd go with them to identify any common traits that could lead to their affliction.
I'm hardly an expert on the matter, but something interesting is that although some of it fits, parts of what people most commonly use to identify an "addictive personality" in reality would not point at those two (basically, the ones related to noncomformity, lack of commitment to perceived achievements, etc. They would also not be the main examples in the 'verse someone would pick for things like impulsivity or alienation from their peers/the norm, for example). Which is a win on the Plecverse in my book, because although there's merit in the analysis, it's hardly a perfect predictive model (and it seems like it could conflate cause and effect in some cases?). They both have a tendency towards neurotic/negative emotions, which is where they fit in the hypothesis regarding addictive personalities.
It's funny because "agreeableness" (understood as a positive) seems to be considered something to be "low" in substance users across the board, but in my experience I've found that, if anything, too much of it, of people pleasingness, can make someone as vulnerable to addition as the willingness to be ~transgressive, if not more. I mention this one because I do see most of MG and Stefan's commonalities in this area, in what I perceive as their need to be liked and seen a certain way, while at the same time they showed certain weaknesses to personalities and influences like Damon's or Kaleb's that led them to follow down paths they outwardly disagreed with, showing that the tight leash they keep on things is because of how quickly they get out of control as soon as they slip, is very revealing as to what blend of traits could be what leads to a ripper spiral. It tracks with how for some vampires / drug users, following this metaphor, can indulge in it recreationally, or be high functioning, without following down that same path.
Moving away from addiction as the obvious, canon comparison, I've always wondered if comparing it to an eating disorder versus a healthy relationship with food would've been more apt, but I suppose it's not seen as equally ~impactful/dramatic/cinematic, and maybe rarer to be seen addressed on male characters. But it's something I think about regarding all rippers in question, especially when we've seen some of the home environments they were in before turning (disapproval from The Patriarch, also a ripper trigger? LOL), and the need for control in other areas that can manifest in those. It could tie with Stefan's alternation between binging and "starvation."
Thanks for this ask btw, as someone who had to fight to achieve a more healthy relationship with food this is giving me a lot of thoughts now about vampires and eating disorders that I'm going to be toying with for a while... I don't know where they'll go but. Yup. Rotating those in my mind now...
#not in underground elysium (or even the leech of wonderland) that's A Different Thing but. archiving it in case I ever use vampires again#replies#talking to the void#my thoughts#tvd thougths#the vampire diaries
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