akirascrybaby - Tumblr blog

[akirascrybaby]

why do coffee makers growl at you. What's the point of all that

[akirascrybaby]

literally me

the feminine urge to have your own reverse harem despite being a lesbian

[akirascrybaby]

The artist gives light and paints the art so that we understand another hidden reality. Artist Nikita Busyak.

[akirascrybaby]

icarus/isn’t it lovely, all alone?

Icarus once fell in love with the sun, it’s rays capturing his lovelorn heart, and Icarus made a promise that he’d touch him, and live at peace with his lover while they basked in its glory. But he flew far too fast, and drowned in despair instead.

Or, Eren loves Jean the way Icarus loved the sun. Too close, too much, and he’s going to be burnt.

pairing: Eren Jaeger/Jean Kirschtein, background Jean Kirschtein/Floch Forster

Tags: Ancient Greek inspired, tragic romance, implied sexual content, implied cheating, reference to alcoholism  

Icarus once fell in love with the sun, it’s rays capturing his lovelorn heart, and Icarus made a promise that he’d do whatever he could to be with him. To live at peace with his lover and bask in the sun’s glory. But he flew far too fast, and drowned in despair instead.

Eren was gifted with the most beautiful set of wings anyone had ever seen. Even as a child, he destined to soar to great lengths, to reach boundaries other boys his age couldn’t. He was able to defy all obstacles, achieve all his heart desired, jump into any flame and come out unscathed.

His father was incredibly proud of his youngest son. He’d brag to anyone who’d listen, telling them how his son was destined for great things, that the entire world was in his hands, that he would fly to the edge of the universe and nothing could make him fall. He was the king of their kind. A legend to all mortals.

As a result of his bright destiny, Eren often had many doors open for him. Life was almost a walk for the young boy, with almost little to no stress in any aspect of his academic or personal life. Loving parents, supportive friends, a privilege that everyone envied and a career that others his age simply couldn’t get.

Growing up, Eren often found himself at the center of everything. It seemed that everyone wanted a glimpse of his wings, and anyone he came into contact with would instantly gravitate towards him. They were mere mortals, and he was the angel with the golden wings, soaring to the corners of the universe.

Living in a world where his kind mingled with mortals, he had a power that no other being on the earth possessed. A raw destructive power, but no-one feared that Eren would ever resort to such a thing. He was the chosen one, the one with such a bright destiny. Why would anyone need to fear him? Eren himself had great plans, he wanted to save everyone and to create a new world, one with peace. 

For Eren, he really did never believe in love. For him, it was nothing more than a silly distraction, a weakness almost; and an emotion that he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling. It was a vulnerability he didn’t want to risk. That was, of course, before he saw the sun in all his glory.

It was a brisk afternoon, a cool breeze flowing through the air as the trees slowly dressed themselves for the spring. Eren was spending time with Armin, his best friend, before he informed him that another friend of Armin, a mortal, would be joining them for lunch.

Eren didn’t care at first, and remained stoic and indifferent throughout, before the mysterious friend of Armin came to join them. The first time Eren saw his face, he could have sworn an ice cold stake had just pierced his heart. Before him was a mortal with a beauty only found in the heavens, a tall young man with a golden brown mullet that reflected the sun, a soft smile and a warmth that healed all of Eren’s wounds.

Armin noticed Eren’s demeanor, how could he not? His wings had turnt a delicate reddish color, almost like the sun in their dying hours, and his dazed green eyed had widened, large enough that anyone staring into it would slip and drown. Armin introduced the pair, Eren, he said, this is Jean.

The rest of the afternoon went by rather quickly. Eren never really paid much focus to Armin’s words on the walk home. Instead, his mind was filled with Jean, and Eren felt this need to be near him, to rotate around him and to fly straight into his arms.

He asked Armin for Jean’s address. He’d write him a letter, he thought. A lighthearted letter that would hopefully be the stepping stone to a romance between them both, for the pen was mightier than any other expression of love. And he wrote, his wings on fire as he expressed a desire to spend more time with Jean. And to Eren’s delight, he received a reply, with Jean equally interested in spending more time with him.

At first, Armin was indifferent to the budding friendship between his two friends. Who was he to tell two grown men to stop spending time together? But as time went on and he noticed the bright red glow around Eren’s wings, he became concerned, and eventually sat his best friend down for a talk.

“Jean is lovely.” He began, “but he’s known for his deceit and unfaithfulness. If you keep flying towards him, you will get burnt.”

Eren scoffed at the notion. Who was Armin to tell him about the intricacies of love? What did Armin know about the nature of their relationship in the first place? No, he thought. So what if Jean would disappear often and offer half assed excuses each time? No. He was in love, and he wasn’t going to stop.

To Eren, Jean was perfect. A true gentleman. He showered the dark haired man with gifts, flowers and words. Jean had taught him what love was, he taught him what life was and he helped him feel alive. Wasn’t it lovely, being so in love?

The relationship was soft, far more smooth compared to the hot headiness of the two men. They shared various qualities, ranging from being overtly blunt to intensely brash, but in the privacy of their own quarters, in the bask of the moon all alone, their touches were more calm, soft, cooling and peaceful, a far contrast from their usual demeanor.

One such night came months later, when the pair spent the better half of the day engulfed in their own bodies, Jean’s lips on Eren’s neck, their fingers interlaced, their bodies at one as each of Jean’s thrusts led to Eren seeing stars each time, both of then chanting each others name like they really couldn’t speak any other language. And when they reached the full height of their pleasure, Eren would feel Jean’s warm seed fill him up, signifying their union and love.

They both lay there, sweaty, out of breath and in each other’s embrace. Eren had many thoughts running through his head, all relating to a possible future with Jean. He thought about exchanged rings, a shared surname and starting a new life together. His smile grew larger as thoughts of settling down with Jean rushed through his mind. He was in too deep, that he knew, but he couldn’t help but think of how pure love was.

Jean was quiet, as if he was mulling something over. The only sounds that could be heart were the gentle raindrops outside, almost fragile, as the earth was slowly dying to prepare itself for the winter season. Jean sat up, but despite opening his mouth to talk to Eren, he was looking around the entire room, his eyes falling on everything that wasn’t his lover.

He apologized, saying the last few months were incredibly fun, but he had recently gotten in touch with an old flame back home, a man he described as his ‘dream lover’, ‘the one that got away’ and ‘the one who taught him true love’. Jean told Eren that his old lover was ready for a relationship, and Jean couldn’t say no to that. He hoped Eren would understand, and wished him luck for the future.

Since then, there was radio silence from Jean. Did Eren mean nothing to him that he didn’t even receive a simple hello? It hurt, and Eren slowly found himself shattered by the illusion that he came to believe was true love. At one point, his love for Jean felt like he was flying. Now, he was scorned and heartbroken, with his unresolved feelings weighing him down like an anchor.

Oh, woe was Eren. How cruel was love to him? Armin tried to get Jean off Eren’s mind, introducing him to other men, taking him out to places, and always making sure he had a shoulder to cry on. It never did fix anything in the end, since Eren had become too damaged, too heartbroken, too hurt to ever truly be happy again.

He had loved Jean so much, so close, and had nothing to show for it aside from a pair of burnt wings. He drowned himself in Jean’s warmth, trusted him wholeheartedly, only to be deceived. Yet, Eren’s heart still yearned for Jean, to feel him by his side at least once more. He’d wake up some nights, breaking out in a cold flash as the moonlight shone on him, his mind was occupied with thoughts of his old lover. Was Jean thinking about him too? He doubted it. Yet, he remained hopeful.

As time went on, Eren slowly felt that he could make it out of this lovelorn hell he was in. He was still madly in love with Jean, how could he forget such a man? Was he losing his entire composure for a mere mortal? But it wasn’t until one afternoon, a year to the date they met to be exact, that a small invitation slipped through Eren’s front door. A wedding invitation, with a picture of Jean and his soon to be husband, a man named Floch.

Eren never saw Jean so happy. He felt his wings solely reduce to ashes, as he stood in front of the sink, his hands bloody from punching the mirror in anger, the invitation lay there, drenched in redness from his barbaric reaction. Was there something with him? Was he not good enough for Jean?

Eren wasn’t really the same after the wedding. His bright and golden wings, destined for great things, were plucked and torn to pieces. He was an empty shell of a man, his life revolving around the bottle, which always offered him a soothing consolidation.

He once reached out to Jean, using an excuse to ask what had happened between them, when in reality he just wanted to hear his honeyed voice once again. To his surprise, he received a brisk and firm reply. He was fine, and enjoying life with his new husband, and that Eren should take good care, goodbye.

Jealousy was such an ugly emotion, but all Eren saw was pure green. How fair was it that this man, Floch, had stolen what was his? How fair was it that he was the one living the life with Jean that Eren had envisioned for himself?

His despair led Eren to completely shut himself off from life as he knew it. He isolated himself, shielding himself from anymore pain. To his family and friends, he was pathetic. Was he so madly in love that he was reacting like this? They did tell him Jean was no good, but no, he chose to fly straight into his arms. They began to scoff at him, calling him all sort of names, and refused to have anything to do with him. Was he really losing it over a mere mortal? They’d ask.  

Eren however, found solace in being alone. His heart was far too fragile, and it already was broken glass, he didn’t need anyone else walking all over it and drenching him in blood. He would sit there on his weak bed, topless, his back scarred with the signs of his old wings, and he’d hope that he’d stop hiding from the world, that he could return to his former glory. He was a broken man, his mind static and his heart torn to pieces.

One night, after he spent the day with a bottle in one hand and Jean’s old letters in the other, Eren found himself laughing. It wasn’t the laughter that comes after feeling a sense of happiness, but rather a cold and bitter laugh, and as he stood up, his scars began to drip with new and fresh blood, and a new set of wings slowly grew from the fresh wound, instead of his old golden pair, Eren’s new set of wings were a crimson color, enflamed with his rage and pain, and for the first time in forever, he felt so alive.

Eren was still laughing, his bitter chuckle causing the entire room to engulf with flames, as Eren then flew, spreading his heartbroken induced fire across every inch his body flew over, painting the entire world in an aura of golden red.

He took extra time to fly over his former lover’s home. He briefly considered letting him go, grabbing him as Eren continued his assault onto the world that had wronged him. But as he slowly descended into Jean’s home, his eyes fell open his old flame laying in bed, fast asleep with Floch in his arms. How could he be so at peace after causing the rage Eren inflicted on the world?

Eren then flew back up, in the direction of the sun, as his tears continued to fall and his anger took on the form of fire, engulfing Jean and his husband and Eren looked on, his face painted with madness as he threw his former lover and his memories into the flame.

Was he crazy? Possibly. But as he fell, laughing in irony and watching the world burn from his rage, he couldn’t help but think to himself, wasn’t it so lovely, being all alone?

[akirascrybaby]

the ghosts within

pairing: pieck finger/hange zoe (pikuhan)

tags: fantasy, gender neutral hange, ghosts, memory loss, mentions of death, mild violence, smut & more smut!

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36179584?view_adult=true

There they were, driving through the pouring rain, a thick fog blinding their sights, on their way to the next big thing in their lives. The car was flooded with their mutual feelings of happiness and excitement, they were close, so close, but before they knew it all they could see was a flash of light, bright enough to blind them and-

“Did I tell you that this whole place is haunted? Legend has it that it’s crawling with ghosts, vampires, werewolves and the whole shebang.”

“Shut up Porco.”

Pieck winced as she got out of the car, her legs limp from the lengthy journey and her arms heavy from the boxes she was carrying. She should have been happy, this move was a fresh start for her and Porco, and it was as if the universe was rewarding them both after putting them through a carousel of failures.

Pieck and her close friend Porco had gotten the opportunity to work in an university in a small town about 4 hours north where they had both lived. Despite it being such a huge opportunity, quite a few people had turned down the chance to work there, since the entire town was plagued with rumours of being haunted by every supernatural being one could think of. 

Pieck and Porco were initially apprehensive about the move, Pieck because the idea of living in such a small place in nature seemed off putting, and Porco because he was genuinely terrified over the possibility of being possessed by a demon, but both of them needed the money and neither of them were in a position to turn down any job thrown their way.

The apartment wasn’t what either of them suspected. It was in a vacant part of the small town, which was saying something since the entire area felt like a ghost town. The building also seemed miniature, containing only 3 other apartments. Pieck was hesitant to go inside on her own, but Porco grabbed her by the arm, and in true paranoia fashion, he slowly walked into the apartment holding one piece of garlic and reading passages from a variety of religious scriptures. 

A small part of the petite dark haired woman wanted to take her camera out and show all their friends just how paranoid “tough guy” Galliard was, but not wanting to argue with Porco on the the first day of moving in, she decided to hold back. 

“Right, so I’ve checked everything, and I don’t see any ghouls or whatever.” Porco stated, almost looking proud for doing, absolutely nothing. 

“Thank you ghostbuster, but have you given any thought as to what we’re going to eat?” Pieck replied dryly, trying so hard not to bring up the fact that she gave Porco one job and he screwed it up by bringing nothing but beer and garlic. “It’s not exactly like we can order in.”

Porco bashfully scratched the back of his head, before digging his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket and pulling out $20. “Do you reckon this will be enough for groceries?” He asked, waving the notes in Pieck’s face.

“I guess you’re going to have to find out.” Pieck dryly replied, waiting a moment for Porco to understand what she was insinuating, before reminding him to buy the essentials and nothing else as he slowly walked out of the building, still muttering things to ward off any supposed supernatural beings.

Pieck slowly strolled into the apartment, the wooden floorboards creaking below her while the lights kept flickering, clearly in need of a fix. She could have sworn she heard a faint voice in the background, but the rational side of her quickly dismissed it as nothing. “I’m probably getting caught up in Porco’s paranoia.” She thought to herself.

She walked into the only room with a functioning light, and placed her phone on the table before throwing herself on the crimson sofa, only to be instantly drowned in an array of dustclouds. Wincing in digust, she jumped back up with the intent of moving the sofa away to the corner, but as she slowly began to move the sofa away, she felt two hands on her hips, and she could have sworn she also felt wind in her ear, warm and breezy, almost like a whisper.

Pieck doubled back in fear, and rushed to grab to the broom in the corner to defend herself, and began slowly pacing around her apartment; dishevelled, waving a broom, and inspecting every single corner her eyes fell on.

“Is there someone here? Hello??” She yelled, waving the broom around in her petite hands, clearly biting off more than she could handle. Pieck briefly caught her own reflection in the mirror, and realising just how stupid she looked in that moment, she slowly lowered the broom, only to hold it back up again when she heard footsteps pacing.

She tiptoed towards the sounds of heavy feet, hoping to catch whatever intruder, or ghost, as the irrational voice in the back of her head put it, that was lurking around. In true horror flick style, the lights flickered on and off before blacking out for good. She heard a deep grunt in the darkness, and without thinking, hit the blur with full force.

“Who the fuck are you?” She screamed, ready to swing another shot, only to see a phone on the ground with the light reflecting on the face of the person she hit. Pieck looked around to see shopping items all over the floor, and in the centre of it all, a confused and angry Porco, looking up at her in shock.

“Are you insane?” He yelled, rubbing his shoulder, since Pieck was too small to actually reach his head. “Why the hell did you hit me for?”

Ironic how it took Porco being the voice of reason for Pieck to realise just how paranoid she was acting. She murmured a brief apology, before helping him put the groceries away, very clearly avoiding why she hit her best friend on the head with a broom.

Later that night, while Porco was passed out on the couch and the apartment was decked out with candles, a sleepy Pieck began to reflect back on the events the transpired that evening. The lights flickering on and off was very clearly due to the faulty electricity, the hands she felt on her waist must’ve been because of the way she jumped off the couch, the “wind” in her ear was obviously just wind, and the footsteps had to have been Porco coming back home.

And that weird shadowy figure with an eyepatch she can see out of the corner of her eye had to be something cooked up by her sleep deprived mind, while the faint calling of her name as she lulled into a deep sleep was just her imagination, of course.

______________________________________________________________

It seemed pretty typical that Porco and Pieck would be late for their first day of work. The stress of moving in and starting a new job was beginning to get to them. They wouldn’t be paid until a month later, and they barely had any money to their name. Luckily for them, their landlord, a bizarre man named Zeke, genuinely did not seem to care at all, and was pretty content with the pair of them “paying whenever”. If anything, he was certain they wouldn’t even last till the next month.

Pieck had gotten a role as a TA for a Literature professor named Erwin Smith. He was a no-nonsense man, but despite his serious demeanour, he seemed genuinely lovely and the pair quickly grew a rapport. Porco wasn’t so lucky, he ended up as a TA for a Chemistry professor named Levi, who was, by all accounts, absolutely terrifying.

The first week went by fairly smoothly, and the pair found themselves settling in just fine. Aside from a few stress induced breakdowns from Porco due to “working for the scariest man alive”, the overall experience seemed great.

One evening after work, Pieck made her way to the local store, with the intention of buying extra milk, since Porco had amped up his coffee intake since working for Levi. She made her way to the checkout, and it wasn’t until she heard a familiar voice speaking that she looked up to see that the cashier was none other than-

“Zeke?” She asked, genuinely shocked as to why her landlord was also manning the till.

“Ah, yes, if it isn’t Pik?”

“Pieck.” She quickly corrected him. “I didn’t know you worked here?” She added, bagging her groceries while ignoring the vibrating sound of her phone, which was undoubtedly a phone call from Porco, crying.

“It’s a small town.” He shrugged, locking up the till and putting on his coat, “would you like me to drop you off home? I’m done with my shift.”

Walking home with your landlord was awkward enough, but even more-so when your landlord was Zeke. He kept rambling on about everything and anything, ranging from his so called sightings of werewolves to his conspiracy about seeing a UFO with his own eyes, and how the government hid that from everyone.

“You know.” He began, leading to a not so subtle eyeroll from Pieck, “it’s a wonder you and your boyfriend moved into that empty apartment, everyone I’ve ever seen either run away terrified or are too fucking spooked out by the story about it.”

“What story?” Pieck asked, for once genuinely interested in what Zeke had to say.

The large blond man gave her a coy smile before fixing his glasses, which Porco has said reminded him of a 70s serial killer, and looked around, almost as if he was worried about being overheard.

“Around 200 years ago, this writer named Hange Zoë had moved into the town. Back then it was fairly small and the people weren’t exactly firm believers of literature, science, or common sense. They found her horror stories to be satanic, so they suspected Hangë of being a witch, and burnt them alive with their books.” Zeke took a deep breath, almost as if he was afraid, before continuing.

“Rumors say they turnt into a ghost and began haunting everyone in the town, as well as that specific apartment.” Zeke paused in front of a surprised Pieck, before pointing to their apartment window.

“Is this true?” Pieck mumbled, finding herself caught up, and somewhat upset, in the entire story. Zeke simply shrugged, before bidding her goodbye, saying he was late for his shift at the laundromat.

Pieck tentatively walked back to her apartment, slowly looking around, with Zeke’s words replaying in her head. She tried to shake off the possibility of there being a supernatural being in her home, vampires, werewolves and witches don’t exist. She thought. Neither do fucking ghosts. She felt bad for Hange, but surely they weren’t a ghost.

“Oi, Pieck.” Porco called, walking into the living room from the shower, his hair still drenched. “Where have you been? I brought you some pizza.”

“Pizza? How did you manage to afford that?” Pieck questioned, “we’re on a budget.”

“Zeke gave me a discount.” He shrugged, grabbing a pizza and shoving it into his mouth. “He’s fucking weird, but decent.”

“Zeke works there as well?”

“Yeah I also saw him at the bike store downtown. Small town huh?” He replied, his mouth full of food. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

Pieck’s mind just couldn’t focus on the movie at all. She couldn’t tell if it was because it was a favorite of Porco’s and not to her taste, or if it was because her mind kept wondering to Zeke’s story, about the young writer being threatened by an entire town, before fucking disappearing.

She took out her phone and shot a look at Porco, who was too busy laughing at Jack’s death in Titanic as a way to hide his tears, and quickly typed in the name “Hange Zoë” in the search bar, curious to see what would come up.

The first few searches were links to their horror short stories, a few pamphlets and a critical essay they wrote. Interesting, Pieck noted, but what really caught her eye was one link titled “Hange Zoë: sightings of the Vampire?”

Vampire? She thought. How bizarre. She clicked on the link and read through multiple testimonies of people swearing they swore her, with stories ranging from “I saw them disguised as an old man” to “Hange bit me!”. Surprisingly, there was no picture of Hange attached to any of the links she could find, and for all she knew, the entire thing could just be a legend gone wrong. It had to be, she thought.

She kept scrolling through her phone, before freezing as she felt the sensation of a cold, breezy air above her right ear. She quickly turned around, only to see an open window behind her.

Pieck felt like she really was losing her mind.

______________________________________________________________

Having a day off as an university TA was rare. If she wasn’t working, she had to help plan lessons, mark work or help Professor Smith with a variety of tasks. It felt nice to finally have the day off to herself however, and she decided to spend the day at the library.

She initially wanted to spend the day at home, but Porco had invited a girl he had met from the university up to the apartment, and the last thing she wanted to do was idly sit there while Porco and his new girlfriend were moaning to the heavens.

The town’s library was small, almost a fraction of the size of the one back home, and the books mostly centered around a fantasy theme, which made sense considering how all tourists come in hoping to catch their own bigfoot.

Pieck made her way to the front desk, only to double back in shock after seeing who the librarian was.

“Excuse me, where is the horror section- Zeke?”

“Oh hi Pieck! How are you?” He smiled, seemingly unaware of why she was so shocked.

“You work in the library as well?” She asked, genuinely trying to figure out if there were multiple versions of this man.

“Small town.” He shrugged. “Horror section is back there.” He pointed, still nonchalant as to why Pieck was so confused.

Making a mental note to investigate Zeke later, Pieck made her way to the horror section and began scanning for any works by Hangë Zoe. She failed to find any, but did come across a book entitled “A collection of spooky short stories!” which did contain some of their works. Pieck quickly began scanning through the book, desperate to read Hange’s work.

“That’s a good book.” A voice muttered, leading Pieck to look up and lay her eyes on the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

They were tall, then again everyone was tall to Pieck, slightly tanned, had brown hair, of which some partly covered their left eye, wore glasses, and was dressed in a brownish suit, all the while wearing a super enthusiastic smile on their face.

“I guess so, I haven’t read it.” Pieck replied, looking down in an attempt to hid her fierce blush. “I’m not the biggest horror fan, I’ve never understood why people write or read it. I’ve always preferred romance.”

“When there's no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth.” The stranger replied, pulling up a chair and leaning in towards Pieck. “Dawn of the dead, that’s one hell of a book. Some people just like to get in touch with their dark side. Not all of us believe in love.”

“Through literature?” Pieck replied, feeling herself burn and blush from the physical contact.

“Nothing wrong with exploring one’s dark side and sexuality through words. I do it all the time.” The stranger laughed back, fixing their glasses, before leaning in to Pieck. “You’ve never done the same?”

“You’re a writer?” Pieck asked, turning around so her and the stranger’s lips were practically hovering over one another. “I work in literature, and I aspire to be one.”

“Maybe I could help you.” The stranger replied, as their fingers, which were stone cold, began slowly rubbing Pieck’s lips. She could feel her body light with fire from the soft touch. She noted the variety of rings of the stranger’s hands, it looked old, antique and practically stuck of wealth.

Pieck never got a chance to reply back, since the pair were interrupted by the sound of someone rushing towards them.

“Angeh!” A voice called out. Pieck turned around to see Zeke walking towards them, already dressed for his whatever role he had next. He froze when he saw Pieck, and for a brief second, Pieck saw a flash of emotion gloss over his eye. Was it fear? Shock? Anger? She couldn’t tell.

“Ah, Pieck.” He smiled, clearly aware of something she wasn’t. “I see you’ve met my friend Angeh.”

“Angeh?” Pieck questioned, turning around to face them. “That’s a strange name.”

“It’s an old rare family name darling.” They replied, winking at her. “Say, I’d love to meet you again sometime.”

“I’ll give you her number, anyways Angeh, we should probably go now. Let me check that book out for you Pieck.” Zeke remarked, dragging Angeh and quickly checking the book out for her. Something was being hidden, but Pieck couldn’t tell what.

Zeke handed the book over to Pieck, and bid her goodbye. Angeh shot her a wink and the pair began talking, or rather arguing, quietly, as soon as Pieck was out of earshot.

Pieck made her way out with her book, and briefly looked at herself in the large mirror, noticing how tired she looked. Surprisingly, she couldn’t see Zeke or Angeh in the background, so she had assumed they left.

She didn’t understand why she could still hear them talking behind her, however.

————-

Angeh and Pieck had developed an.... interesting relationship to say the least. Angeh began teaching Pieck about how to write horror stories, while Pieck taught them the beauty of romance literature. They were polar opposites, yet seemed to work so well. While Angeh was hot, Pieck was cold. While Angeh was witty, Pieck was dry. While Angeh loved the dark side, Pieck saw colour.

For the next month, the pair developed a tentative friendship, spending as much time together, and even going on a few dates. To no-one’s surprise, they slowly began a romantic relationship, with the word relationship being used loosely.

Pieck noticed how Angeh hated daylight, rarely touched her and despite being official lovers, they never had any physical contact. Pieck usually pinned it on Angeh being eccentric and reserved, but it did get to Pieck, and began feeling like there was something wrong with her. Usually, Pieck would be the one her friends would go to for advice, and on the rare occasion she wanted to speak to someone, she’d usually go to Annie, Marcel or Jean, but she couldn’t get in touch with all 3, which meant that she was forced to seek romantic advice from the worst possible source available.

“Porco?”

“‘Sup?” He replied, putting his book down and giving her an inquisitive look. “Is everything alright?”

“I just wanted to ask you something, related to Angeh.” She whispered, clearly embarrassed about asking something so private to a man who barely understood emotions. “I don’t think they’re into me.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Porco began, ruffling Pieck’s hair. “They’re fucking weird but they most definitely have a thing for you. They’re always staring at you like you owe them money, it’s creeps the hell out of me.”

“Yeah but, they don’t want to touch me at all.” Pieck muttered back, turning away as to not see Porco’s concerned, and confused, look. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me?”

Pieck expected a dry remark from Porco, maybe a dark chuckle, or maybe just a stupid point to come out of his mouth. What she wasn’t expecting, however, was for Porco to look at her solemnly, and to lean forward to her, placing his hand above hers and looking her deep in the eye. Strange, Pieck thought. Why was Porco’s hand so fucking cold?

“You’ve gotta make peace with things. Go talk to them.” He muttered, before turning his attention back to his book.

______________________________________________________________

Pieck walked towards the small library where Angeh and her usually had their dates. For the first time since she moved here, it was raining, raining so hard that Pieck genuinely couldn’t see anything before her. She didn’t know why, but she always hated the rain. It just made her nauseous.

She walked into the library and deep inside the quiet and empty building, was Angeh, reading their horror stories with a rather enthusiastic expression on their face. Upon noticing Pieck, they put the book down and walked over to her, brushing the wet hair out of her face. “Is everything alright?” They asked, noticing Pieck’s forlorn expression.

“Yeah, I just-“ She began, wondering if she was being a tad dramatic, “I just wanted to know if everything was alright between us. Sometimes I feel like you’re not really into me, you know?”

“Oh darling.” They whispered, “I wish you’d come to me before.”

Angeh began to pepper Pieck’s face with butterfly kisses, while their ice cold hands roamed around her body, tentatively removing any article of clothing they could find, until Pieck was left in her laced black panties. “No bra?” Angeh laughed, their lips now attaching themselves to Pieck’s neck, leading her to arch her back.

“I find it so restrictive.” Pieck muttered, her petite hands tangling themselves in Angeh’s hair. She screamed a little when Angeh bit down on Pieck’s neck, leading to a small trickle of blood to fall out, which Angeh quickly licked.

Angeh never replied back to Pieck’s response, instead continuing to explore every inch of Pieck’s skin with their mouth. The sensation made Pieck’s skin burn with desire, every time she felt Angeh’s ice cold lips or fingers touch her she swore she could see an array of stars, and hearing Angeh softly whisper her name felt like she was being called by the heavens themselves.

Angeh’s mouth hovered over Pieck’s firm breasts, and they briefly raised their head to meet Pieck’s dazed eyes, which were swimming in delight and love. Angeh shot Pieck a wink before latching her lips over Pieck’s breast, sucking like a man starved on an island, their tongue flickering over her nipple in an erotic dance. “Angeh-“

“Quiet, I didn’t allow you to speak now, did I?” Angeh ordered, slapping Pieck’s thigh as a punishment.

Pieck instantly shut her mouth, only mumbling a “I’m sorry sir, ma’am, fuck.”

“Good girl.” Angeh cooed, placing their hands on each of Pieck’s legs and slowly opening them. Pieck noticed that Angeh’s hands suddenly felt warm, a stark contrast to their usual icy touch, but as a result of her pleasure infused brain, she put it down to it being cause of their increased physical contact.

Angeh slowly removed Pieck’s panties, and began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of her thighs, while their fingers continued to rub on both of Pieck’s nipples. Angeh gave a dark chuckle on noticing just how wet Pieck was, and gave her clit a firm slap, leading to a rather large moan from the petite dark haired beauty.

“How pathetic.” Angeh began, their fingers now rubbing over Pieck’s entrance. “I’ve barely done anything and here you are, absolutely dripping for me like a little whore?” Angeh continued their taunt by slowly placing a finger inside Pieck, followed by another one, leading to Pieck let out a muffled groan, which was quickly silenced by Angeh’s other hand slipping into her mouth.

Angeh’s fingers began moving at a rapid speed, grazing above that oh so sweet spot inside her, and just when she felt like she was on the verge of exploding in pure pleasure, Angeh removed their hand and quickly placed it with their own mouth.

Pieck was gliding through heaven, she was certain of it.

Angeh’s mouth lapped over Pieck’s now swollen clit, spitting on messily on her cunt while shoving their face inbetween Pieck’s legs, all the while swallowing all her juices like they have never eaten anything in over 200 years. Their tongue was buried deep inside of her, and Pieck could have sworn she could see the actual entire universe in front of her, and she felt herself on the edge, so ready to explode in complete pleasure as she completely fell apart.

“Say my name.” Angeh ordered, their mouth still lapping hungrily over Pieck’s sore cunt.

“Angeh-“

“Hange.” They corrected her. “Call me Hange.”

So caught up in her own pleasure, Pieck didn’t realise she was lying there on a table in the middle of a public library, moaning out the name of a long dead writer, as she came undone all over Hange who rose their head from Pieck’s legs, completely covered in her juices.

It took Pieck a while to put two and two together, and as she slowly came down from her high, she realized that not only was Hange’s hands on fire, but Angeh’s name wasn’t even Angeh in the first place.

“Wait, fuck.” Pieck jumped up, throwing herself off Hange and covering herself up. “Why the hell did I call you Hange?”

“My love, surely you’re not that stupid. You knew all along who I was, right?” Hange smiled, placing their hand over hers. “You need to make peace with your ghost within and remember.”

Like a reel from an old 80s VHS video, Pieck began to vividly see everything. Her and Porco receiving their job offers, her and Porco driving to the small town, pouring rain, a flash of bright light, pain, oh God the pain.

Pieck began screaming, her body remembering the entire incident, God, why was there blood dripping down her face?

“It’s okay.” Hange whispered, “keep remembering, you’re so close.”

Her and Porco were drenched in blood, her family and the Galliards were torn, heartbroken over the loss, their souls, still intact, continued their journey to this town, and Zeke, Zeke? She remembered, wasn’t he Eren’s older brother? The one who died in that house fire? Wasn’t Porco’s brief girlfriend accidentally shot years ago? Her mind burnt with old memories coming back.

Erwin and Levi, the lovers who drowned over a decade ago, and Hange, who had been following Pieck this entire time. The first night, Hange was there, they hugged, they spoke, they laughed. Why did Pieck forget this?

“Hange,” Pieck began, the pain slowly leaving her body as the blood began to evaporate, “I’m beginning to remember.”

Hange held her closer, their hands stroking her hair as Pieck’s memory began coming back all at once.

Porco, she thought. He found out the truth. Did Zeke tell him? Hange? Levi? She wondered, her mind now racing as she felt her skin become ice cold to the touch.

And Hange, Hange told them who they were at the library at day. Pieck was shocked, but Hange told her the truth, that they were a horror writer who was murdered over 200 years ago. Why did Pieck block that out? Why did her mind resort to calling them Angeh?

“Pieck,” Hange mumbled, placing their hands on Pieck’s face. “You’ve done it, you’ve remembered. You’re one of us.”

“What will happen to me now?” Pieck asked, suddenly feeling a sense of intense dread.

“Nothing. You’re just stuck here with the rest of us undead, doomed to wonder around here in this town until the end of time. I’ve been going on for over 200 years.” Hange laughed, placing a small kiss on Pieck’s head.

Pieck, realizing where she was, and who she was, began to slowly relax, sinking her face into Hange’s shoulder, gently crying, lamenting the loss of her life. It was over, she thought.

“It’s just us now, Pieck, for the rest of eternity.” Hange whispered, wiping the tears off Pieck’s face.

“Just us and our ghosts within.”

[akirascrybaby]

snk characters and their personality types

i’m suffering from writer’s block, and no-one asked for this, but I am insanely obsessed with MBTIs, so I decided to make a post trying to figure out what personality types the snk characters could be, and I decided to make a post on it, since I’m bored af (and have no life)

Before I get into it, I’m gonna explain what a MBTI is, but you can just scroll to the bottom if you’re already caught up on it all!

A quick explanation for those who don’t know what a MBTI is:

It stands for the Myers-Briggs Personality Type Indicator and uses a set of descriptions to to identify a person's personality type, strengths, and preferences. It’s not a thing that should be used as gospel, just because you end up with one type doesn’t mean that’s who you are as a person, it just helps figure out your personality etc.

You get sorted into different categories:

E (extrovert) v I (introvert) 

S (sensing; meaning you focus on the details and are more practical) v N (iNtuition; you focus on the big picture)

T (thinking; you’re more logical) v F (feeling; more in touch with your emotions) 

J (judging; you follow schedules/rules) v P (perceiving; you’re more spontaneous)

There are 16 types, and before I get into what I think each character is, I copied a description of each type from a website (https://www.personalitypage.com/html/high-level.html) so you can get an idea of them.

ISTJ - The Duty Fulfiller

Serious and quiet, interested in security and peaceful living. Extremely thorough, responsible, and dependable. Well-developed powers of concentration. Usually interested in supporting and promoting traditions and establishments. Well-organized and hard working, they work steadily towards identified goals. They can usually accomplish any task once they have set their mind to it.

ISTP - The Mechanic

Quiet and reserved, interested in how and why things work. Excellent skills with mechanical things. Risk-takers who they live for the moment. Usually interested in and talented at extreme sports. Uncomplicated in their desires. Loyal to their peers and to their internal value systems, but not overly concerned with respecting laws and rules if they get in the way of getting something done. Detached and analytical, they excel at finding solutions to practical problems.

ISFJ - The Nurturer

Quiet, kind, and conscientious. Can be depended on to follow through. Usually puts the needs of others above their own needs. Stable and practical, they value security and traditions. Well-developed sense of space and function. Rich inner world of observations about people. Extremely perceptive of other's feelings. Interested in serving others.

ISFP - The Artist

Quiet, serious, sensitive and kind. Do not like conflict, and not likely to do things which may generate conflict. Loyal and faithful. Extremely well-developed senses, and aesthetic appreciation for beauty. Not interested in leading or controlling others. Flexible and open-minded. Likely to be original and creative. Enjoy the present moment.

INFJ - The Protector

Quietly forceful, original, and sensitive. Tend to stick to things until they are done. Extremely intuitive about people, and concerned for their feelings. Well-developed value systems which they strictly adhere to. Well-respected for their perserverence in doing the right thing. Likely to be individualistic, rather than leading or following.

INFP - The Idealist

Quiet, reflective, and idealistic. Interested in serving humanity. Well-developed value system, which they strive to live in accordance with. Extremely loyal. Adaptable and laid-back unless a strongly-held value is threatened. Usually talented writers. Mentally quick, and able to see possibilities. Interested in understanding and helping people.

INTJ - The Scientist

Independent, original, analytical, and determined. Have an exceptional ability to turn theories into solid plans of action. Highly value knowledge, competence, and structure. Driven to derive meaning from their visions. Long-range thinkers. Have very high standards for their performance, and the performance of others. Natural leaders, but will follow if they trust existing leaders.

INTP - The Thinker

Logical, original, creative thinkers. Can become very excited about theories and ideas. Exceptionally capable and driven to turn theories into clear understandings. Highly value knowledge, competence and logic. Quiet and reserved, hard to get to know well. Individualistic, having no interest in leading or following others.

ESTP - The Doer

Friendly, adaptable, action-oriented. "Doers" who are focused on immediate results. Living in the here-and-now, they're risk-takers who live fast-paced lifestyles. Impatient with long explanations. Extremely loyal to their peers, but not usually respectful of laws and rules if they get in the way of getting things done. Great people skills.

ESTJ - The Guardian

Practical, traditional, and organized. Likely to be athletic. Not interested in theory or abstraction unless they see the practical application. Have clear visions of the way things should be. Loyal and hard-working. Like to be in charge. Exceptionally capable in organizing and running activities. "Good citizens" who value security and peaceful living.

ESFP - The Performer

People-oriented and fun-loving, they make things more fun for others by their enjoyment. Living for the moment, they love new experiences. They dislike theory and impersonal analysis. Interested in serving others. Likely to be the center of attention in social situations. Well-developed common sense and practical ability.

ESFJ - The Caregiver

Warm-hearted, popular, and conscientious. Tend to put the needs of others over their own needs. Feel strong sense of responsibility and duty. Value traditions and security. Interested in serving others. Need positive reinforcement to feel good about themselves. Well-developed sense of space and function.

ENFP - The Inspirer

Enthusiastic, idealistic, and creative. Able to do almost anything that interests them. Great people skills. Need to live life in accordance with their inner values. Excited by new ideas, but bored with details. Open-minded and flexible, with a broad range of interests and abilities.

ENFJ - The Giver

Popular and sensitive, with outstanding people skills. Externally focused, with real concern for how others think and feel. Usually dislike being alone. They see everything from the human angle, and dislike impersonal analysis. Very effective at managing people issues, and leading group discussions. Interested in serving others, and probably place the needs of others over their own needs.

ENTP - The Visionary

Creative, resourceful, and intellectually quick. Good at a broad range of things. Enjoy debating issues, and may be into "one-up-manship". They get very excited about new ideas and projects, but may neglect the more routine aspects of life. Generally outspoken and assertive. They enjoy people and are stimulating company. Excellent ability to understand concepts and apply logic to find solutions.

ENTJ - The Executive

Assertive and outspoken - they are driven to lead. Excellent ability to understand difficult organizational problems and create solid solutions. Intelligent and well-informed, they usually excel at public speaking. They value knowledge and competence, and usually have little patience with inefficiency or disorganization.

Eren: ISFP.

I have no idea why people type Eren as an INTJ, when he’s very clearly an ISFP. ISFPs are tolerant, open minded and care deeply about the world around them, and if you take away Eren’s crazy ramblings, he genuinely does care for people. Examples include him wanting to save Krista when she was lost with Daz, having a soft spot for Falco and worrying about the Levi Squad, even though the logical choice would be not to. ISFPs are also notorious for being fiercely independent, hate being boxed in and are over competitive, and well, tell me that isn’t Eren. They’re also awful at long term planning. If you compare someone like Armin to Eren, Armin would execute a detailed plan to avenge someone that could take time, while Eren wouldn’t have that patience and would want to extract revenge right there. He’s deeply emotional, passionate and absolutely hates rules and authority, true ISFP traits. 

Famous ISFPs include: Michael Jackson, Harry Potter, Zuko, Itadori, Lana Del Rey, Rihanna, Jennie from Blackpink, Akira Fudo, Britney Spears and me :) 

Armin, Falco: INFJ.

INFJs are known for wanting to save the world. They’re super creative, intuitive, brilliant at understanding people and have strong morals that they abide by. Falco was quick to notice who Eren really was in the basement, and Armin was always good at reading situations. Both of them are always thinking about other people, and can be insanely selfless (Falco wanting to sacrifice himself for Gabi, Armin willing to die for Eren etc). That being said, both are very sensitive to criticism, avoid opening up about their feelings, are too idealistic to the point where their feelings seem childish (Armin wanting to save the world, Falco dreaming about peace) and they are far too hard on themselves, both Armin and Falco felt that they were too weak to save their friends. 

Examples: Norman from The Promised Neverland, Midoriya, River Phoenix, RM, Sufjan Stevens, Mandela, Dumbledore and Loki.

Mikasa, Magath: ISTJ.

They’re both super traditional, follows rules, schedules every aspect of their lives and are highly logical people. They excel well because they work hard, are in tune with the details and listen to their superiors. They’re honest and direct, calm under pressure and are insanely loyal to the people around them. Mikasa is able to put aside her feelings (esp later on) to do what’s right, and Magath is obsessed with providing good results to the Marleyan regime. That being said, ISTJs struggle to communicate effectively, struggle to bend the rules (a clear example of this was during the Rumbling arc with Mikasa, once the Scouts fell apart and everyone was running around trying to figure out what to do, she seemed lost and confused. Eren wasn’t there, neither was a clear hierarchy of the Scouts, so there wasn’t anything for her to follow). They also blame themselves too. 

Well known ISTJs: Kim Kardashian, Jason Bourne, Matt Damon, Hermonie Granger, Nanami, Amy and Holt from B99, Irene and Elizabeth II. 

Jean, Floch: ESTJ

They’re strong willed, direct and good at establishing (some form) of order. Jean is seen as a defacto leader in the Scouts, and is good at establishing structure when needed and is relied on by the others. Both Jean and Floch say it how it is, even at the expense of others’ feelings. But they can also be judgemental, critical, and traditionalist/conservative. ESTJs have strong opinions on what’s right, and take it upon themselves to follow their duty and often dismiss other points of view. A clear example of this is Floch believing that Eren was right, and following through his plan till his death. They also struggle to express their emotions or showing empathy. Jean hid his hurt at Sasha’s death, and came across as cold in the way he reacted to everyone else in the first season. 

Famous ESTJs: Gordon Ramsey, Draco Malfoy, Judge Judy, Dr Phil, Sokka, Nobara, Regina George, Mariah Carey, Dwight from The Office, Mr Krabs and Kim Jong Un

Sasha (and maybe Onyakapon): ENFP.

If there’s one thing that makes Sasha stand out from the others, it’s her ability to sense things before they actually happen. ENFPs are strongly perceptive, and are able to pick up on other people’s moods and details around them. They’re also super curious, enthusiastic and are genuinely good natured people. Sasha was known for being deeply caring and always happy, and was always curious about the world around her. That being said, ENFPs are also super disorganised, unfocused (insert Sasha falling asleep multiple times manga panels) and care too much about what people think of them, and if you remember, Sasha cared so much about other people’s opinions that she faked her accent for a few years. 

Famous ENFPs: Peter Parker, Aang, Will Smith, Doja Cat, Kanye, Jake from B99, Michael Scott, Tom Holland and Pikachu. 

Connie, Gabi: ESFP.

ESFPs are known for being natural entertainers, and well, I think it’s very clear that Connie and Gabi are the natural jokesters of their respective friend groups. They’re bold, observant (Gabi noticing Reiner lying, Connie noticing Ymir’s love for Hisu etc). They’re also genuinely fun to hang out with and have fun personalities. ESFPs also hate conflict (Gabi’s reaction to Jean/Reiner’s fight, Connie being a mediator etc), super sensetive (look at how Gabi and Connie react to everything) and are very unfocused (cue panels of them zoning out). 

Well known ESFPs: Nicki Minaj, Cardi B, Lisa from BlaLeonardo DiCaprio, Rachel and Joey from Friends, Freddie Mecury, Ron Weasley and Nishinoya from Haikyuu. 

Erwin Smith: ENTJ.

For me, Erwin just screams ENTJ. He’s logical, always in control, assertive and is able to make quick and ruthless decisions when needed. He can also be a bit stubborn, cold and it’s usually his way or no way. It’s also a bit funny how every fictional villain or mean girl is also seen as an ENTJ. 

Examples; Azula, Light from Death Note, Blair Waldorf, Bakugou, Voldemort, Cruella De Vil, Stalin, Margaret Thatcher, Gengis Khan, Julius Ceaser, Macron and literally every politician and historical leader you can think of LOL.

Levi, Annie and (freckled) Ymir: ISTP.

They just gives me ISTP vibes tbh. Relaxed, a bit of a lone wolf, practical but also very private, insensitive and hates commitment. They’re also very active and thrive in fast paced environments. That being said, even though they come across as being cold, they genuinely do value their loved ones and crave for affection (Ymir’s love for Hisu and her saving Reiner and Bert, Levi’s dedication to Erwin, Hange and his comrades, Annie’s bond with Armin and her wanting to see her father.) 

Known ISTPs include Megan Fox, Tom Cruise, Ash Lynx, Aizawa, Dabi,  every anime character who’s stoic and alone, Shrek etc.

Hange: ENTP

Hange is a textbook ENTP. You know your witty friend who is super enthusiatic and is always up for a debate? Yeah, they’re an ENTP, just like Hange. They super smart and knowlegable (and it’s canon that Hange is the brain of the Scouts, they literally invented thunderspears), they’re brilliant at analysing situations (think of the amount of plans Hange came up with) and super energetic. They’re also very arguementive, can gloss over others’ emotional needs and struggle to focus. 

Famous ENTPs include: Gojo, Iron Man, every fictional devil, The Joker. Kaeya, Chandler from Friends, Satan and Hawks from BHNA. 

Historia: ISFJ

Hisu is super loyal and hardworking, but she tends to overload herself with things and represses her feelings. They’re reliable, very defensive of their loved ones (Hisu wouldn’t let Ymir slander fly), and I also feel like she dislikes change, something that ISFJs are known for. They can also be too shy and take things far too personally. 

Well known ISFJs include Beyonce, Selena Gomez, Pam from The Office, Bella Hadid, Eiji Okuruma and Gwyneth Paltrow.

Reiner: ESFJ.

ESFJs are notorious people pleasers and place high importance on their own personal values. Reiner has a strong sense of duty, is crazyyyy loyal, is quite caring and is good at connecting with other people. Reiner is determined to see his duty till the end, and cares deeply about his fellow warriors and scouts. That being said, ESFJs can be needy, sensitive to criticism, worry about their social status and can be too selfless..... and that just screams Reiner to me. He wants the approval of everyone, and worries far too much about how others view him. 

Famous ESFJs include: Gigi Hadid, Hailey Beiber, Vin Diesel, Wendy Williams, J-Lo, Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo and Joe Biden.

Bertolt: INFP

Bert is super hard to type, since we’ve seen a slimmer of his real personality. Most people type him as an ISFP, but I strongly disagree with that. I think he’s either an ISFJ or an INFP, and I’m gonna lean towards an INFP in this post. INFPs are soft souls, genuinely caring and have a strong set of morals. They’re super empathetic, something that I think Bertolt is. While he may not show it the way Reiner does, Bertolt’s breakdown in S2 about how they’ve committed awful crimes and need someone to save them shows that he does feel remorse and he does feel the pain of the other scouts. INFPs are also genorous and open minded, traits that Bertolt showed in the Scouts and Warriors. That being said, INFPs are also self loathing, self critical and place their own morals above all else. Bertolt’s morals were “this world fucking sucks and we’re all going to die”, and he stood by that till his own death. 

Famous INFPs: Keanu Reeves, Yuri Katsuki, Kaneki Ken, Shinji, Princess Diana and Mafuyu from Given.

Porco, Kenny and Hitch: ESTP

They’re bold, say it how it is, is rational, sociable and adapts quickly. They’re also unstructured, breaks rules, can be insensitive and really impatient. Example, Porco jumping in head first to fight the scouts while Pieck was telling him to calm down and think of a rational plan. 

Famous ESTPs: basically every sociopathic fictional character, Trump, Ben Affleck, Mark Wahlberg (and every character he plays. Watch The Departed and tell me if Sgt Dingham doesn’t scream Porco to you), Angelina Jolie, The Rock, Eddie Murphy, 50 Cent, Chuck Bass and Damon from the Vampire Diaries.

Pieck, Zeke: INTP

INTPs are known for having big sexy brains and are the most intelligent MBTI (imo anyways). INTPs are insanely analytical, analysing everything from data to people’s actions. They’re also open minded but also very curious. Think about Zeke’s reaction to Paradis and Pieck’s reaction to, well everything. They’re also well known for coming up with their own ideas, esp ones that others wouldn’t think of. INTP can also lose focus and fall into their own world, and are so rational that they can be seen as cold, since they view emotion as a weakness. Zeke came across as cold in his pursuit of his goal, and Pieck often hid her own feelings, and had a “it is what it is” mindset to everything. 

Famous INTPs: Einstein, Ray from The Promised Neverland, L from Death Note, Sherlock, Jin from BTS, Bill Gates, Charles,Darwin, Marie Curie and Neo from The Matrix. 

Yelena: INTJ

You know that super scary villian who says nothing and is hell bent on taking over the world? Yeah, they’re an INTJ. INTJ have super rational thinking skills, are very determined (look at Yelena’s desire to follow Zeke and his plan), very independent and analytical. INTJs are so rational that they often dismiss feelings, can be super arrogant and cynical, esp about romance. Yelena does NOT let anything aside from her own views influence her goal.

Famous INTJs: Suga from BTS, Todoroki (even though i think he’s an ISTP), Lelouch, Snape, Tsukishima, Ryo from Devilman Crybaby, Lenin and Isaac Newton. 

Honourable mention:

Marco, Marcel: ENFJ. 

Both Marco and Marcel were seen as reliable, caring and charismatic, but also too idealistic, way too intenese and far too unrealistic in understanding the world, and that some things/people couldn’t be saved. Famous ENFJs: Tanjiro, Emma from The Promised Neverland, Jimin from BTS, Zendaya, MLK, Viktor from Yuri On Ice, Tupac and Howl Pendragon.

[akirascrybaby]

[akirascrybaby]

disabled transmasc person + disabled trans woman in need

hi me and my partner are disabled trans people and we need help.

i need 45 dollars for the copay for my medication and also we need some essentials. we need to get sanitary products really bad.

PLEASE BOOST if you see this, boosting helps a lot and ill be really thankful

c*shapp: $frogiess

v*mno: @finchfrog

https://www.paypal.me/skyve

[akirascrybaby]

Angst fics can help people come to terms with their own grief, begin healing, or give people that good cry that they need.

Smut fics can help people affirm and accept their sexuality. It can help them explore their sexuality in a safe way. They can also just be fun, and having fun is a drastically undervalued way to improve your mental health.

Dark fics can help people face their fears or process their trauma. It can make them feel safer and more secure. It can help them find their courage.

Fluff fics can give people rest and respite and comfort. It can give them hope that soft places exist and that maybe there is one out there for them. It can bring up their mood, which, if they have depression, can be a life saver.

And every fic people write makes someone feel less alone.

Point being, just because a particular thing doesn’t serve you, doesn’t mean it lacks value.

This is not to say that we have to consume all fic uncritically. Of course not. It is just to say that entire “genres” aren’t trash or lacking value just because they don’t serve you.

[akirascrybaby]

be my rest, be my fantasy

CW: brief mention of suicidal thoughts, angst, dark curses 

Pairing: Hitch x Annie :) 

Oh, what a wretched life they lived, Hitch thought.

There she was, the young military general, tasked with one of the most important roles anyone in the Eldian Empire could have. To stand here in front of one of the largest crystals ever witnessed on the earth, and to make sure the person inside could not escape and cause more havok on the already delicate regime.

It was a pitiful existence, for sure. The blonde woman was trapped in her grey crystal, still in the black shroud she wore when she was cursed. The room itself was empty, aside from a small collection of belongings in the corner that she couldn’t touch under any circumstances.

It was ironic how most travellers coming through Eldia would assume a large, terrifying beast was being locked up, something akin to Frankestein or Bigfoot. Their shock after learning that the “beast” locked up in the crystal was actually a young woman cursed many moons ago was something that never failed to amuse Hitch.

Hitch knew she should hate this woman. How many people have died because of her? How much pain has she caused across the empire? The Eldian regime would never let anyone forget either, brainwashing their youth to not only wildly nationalistic to the empire, but to hate the blonde woman and her entire homeland.

Yet as Hitch stood there, looking up at the small, and beautiful, woman entrapped in the crystal, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Maybe, she wondered, there was another side to the story. Maybe, she had to do what she had done, and that she was just a victim of the cruel world they were born in. The empire didn’t even refer to her by name, instead calling her “the female beast”, “butcher of eldia”, or even more creatively, just plain “it”.

It was as if she wasn’t even human to them.

And so, Hitch would find herself conversing with the blond woman. She knew that she couldn’t hear her or reply back, but deep down in her soul the brunette felt a deeper connection. She’d tell her everything, ranging from trival things such as her crushes or clothes, or deeper thoughts about her distrust of the Eldian regime and her worry over the new war with the blonde woman’s hometown, Marley.

“I’m not sure if I feel the same way about Marlowe. How do I turn him down without breaking his heart?” She’d ask, leaning against the wall and tapping her chin with her finger.

“Cutting my hair was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I look like a fucking coconut.” She’d state, shaking her hair in front of the crystal.

“Jean told me the army are making plans to invade Marley. That’s where you’re from right? Wait, why the fuck am I even asking that, it’s not like you can reply back. I know I shouldn’t say this but, it’s just wrong. Why are we doing the same shit we hate Marley for?” She’d ponder, sitting in a fetal position next to the bright crystal, holding back tears.

“Maybe both sides are just as sick and twisted as each other. You get what I mean, right?” She’d ask, placing her hand over the petite woman. And sometimes, just sometimes, she could have sworn she saw tears falling from the cursed woman’s eyes.

Hitch remembered the tales throughout her life of a small blonde woman who defied her kingdom, turned against her former comrades and spilled blood across the Eldian empire. A woman who barely spoke yet a simple utter of her name struck fear into the hearts of even the most feared and well decorated soilders. Now she couldn’t help but wonder, were these all lies? For all anyone knew, it was only the cursed woman who had the power to stop the corrupt Eldian ruler, Ymir Fritz.

The Eldian empire paraded Ymir Fritz as the empire’s saviour, the person who united the titan powers and brought Eldia back to its former glory. To an extent, this was true, but at what cost did they achieve that? It felt like people were suffocating, unable to utter a word against their own ruler out of fear of being tortured or cursed, and people were being swept away to fight in meaningless wars, much like lambs to the slaughter.

A young Hitch would sit on her grandmother’s lap listening to the legend of how the short blonde woman took her rebellion too far, and after killing someone close to the creator of all Eldians, a grief stricken Ymir Fritz burst into the woman’s headquarters one day, wielding a sword and swearing to find vengence.

Hitch would be on the edge of her seat, eyes drowned in suspense as her grandmother would tell her how Ymir Fritz managed to overpower the petite but fierce blonde, and while holding the sword to her throat, she noticed something.

She noticed the way the small woman’s eyes flickered with a mixture of fear, and anger. Contrary to popular belief, she didn’t want to die. She wanted to live, and Ymir Fritz saw that. Wanting the blonde woman to face a bigger pain than she had, she decided to let her live, but instead chose to curse her with a rare spell that had never been done before.

It was cruel to Hitch. So cruel that the curse would allow the blonde woman to live forever, but any human she touched would instantly age by 100 years and die immediately. Ymir Fritz knew the blonde woman just wanted to hold her father again, but with this curse, she was destined to a life of a solitude. No-one would touch her, and she could touch no-one.

Torn with grief and shame, the blonde woman enclosed herself in a heavy crystal, refusing to leave for anyone’s safety. She never meant to hurt anyone, she just wanted to save the people she loved. If she could never be with them, then just what was the point of her freeing herself ever again?

“You’re not a bad person, you know. I think there’s more to you. I just wish I could actually speak to you though.” She’d mutter, her hand caressing the stubborn crystal.

Was that.... tears she saw in the reflection of the crystal? How bizarre she thought, since she most certainly wasn’t crying.

Months passed since Hitch was given the role to defend the crystal. It felt like the blonde woman was her only confidant, and even though she knew no-one would believe her. She stood there, thinking about her own comrades flying off to Marley to take the next big step in this pointless war, and other pointless things, like what the future held for her, and what she should have for lunch?

She thought about how the blond woman was the only remaining shifter with powers, the only one that held the power to stop the corrupt Ymir Fritz and Marleyan leaders. She wondered what could happen if she broke out of her crystal and attacked Ymir Fritz. Most of the military were aboard fighting, and Hitch could very easily turn the other way. Who, or what, was stopping her?

A few days later, Hitch was pacing around the dark room, the only illumination coming from the small square window at the top of the caved room. She found herself walking past the small collection of belongings, and her eyes briefly darted across the large sign with the bold warning informing people to not, udner any circumstances, touch the belongings there.

Hitch was never one for patience, and she couldn’t help but have her curiosity wash over her. Surely one small peak couldn’t kill her, right?

Hitch rummaged through the worn out dark green bag, before gently grabbing a small book covered with dust and scars. She tentatively opened the book, before a small collection of photographs fell on the floor. Hitch looked through them, her eyes widening in shock. The pictures were all of her, the small blonde woman.

There were pictures of her with a man Hitch deduced was her father, pictures of her in army training, she must have been around 4 or 5 years old at the very least. Pictures of her crying, holding a gun to kill while the innocence left her soul, leading her to stare at the camera with dead, worn out eyes.

Hitch placed the photographs on the small table before flicking through the book. There were diary accounts, with the author describing how they were forced to fight to protect their family, how they were forced to kill their comrades and friends, how they should have known better, and they needed to write this to let people know how they feel.

They wrote about how they were used as a tool by Marley, and due to them being the only Eldian shifter left, they were given the mission to destroy Eldia, or have their entire family wiped out. It was a battle they couldn’t lose.

They talked about their mental anguish, how the trauma of killing so many people destroyed their mind, how they woke up with violent nightmares, and on many an occasion considered the possibility of joining those whose lives they took.

Were they a devil, or a hero? They didn’t know, but they wished it could all come to an end sooner or later.

Hitch noticed how there was one name signed at the bottom of each entry.

Annie.

As if a lightbulb exploded in her brain, Hitch ran to the crystal, desperately banging on it, angrily demanding for Annie to come out, calling her selfish for staying trapped and that she wasn’t a monster.

“Annie?”

“Come out Annie.”

“Annie, I understand you.”

Hitch saw a flash of bright light, and was knocked down as shards of crystal flew all around her. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up to the sight of Annie before her, eyes clouded with tears with her black shroud slightly torn and her blonde hair falling down from her loose bun. Her cheeks were flushed, and for the first time in forever, she was smiling.

Hitch was hit with a ton of emotions at once, and she found herself overwhelmed by the sight in front of her. Here Annie was, in all her glory and Hitch couldn’t help herself as she ran towards her, throwing her arms around her neck and placing a longing kiss on the blonde’s lips.

Annie’s lips danced along hers, but it wasn’t until Hitch felt a stinging pain that the pair realised what just happened. Annie grabbed onto Hitch even tighter, hoping that somehow this was all a nasty dream, and cursing herself for leaving her crystal.

In matter of seconds, Hitch felt her skin wrinkle, her body double over, and her bones became more and more fragile as she felt herself aging rapidly. Her hair shrunk in size and turned grey, and she found herself forgetting everything, with her memories becoming more and more scrambled as time went on.

Annie caressed Hitch’s face as her words became more and more distorted, and blood began to flow from her mouth and nose as she slowly lost all consciousness. Annie’s tears fell onto Hitch’s face, mixing with the blood and painting her face a watery red.

After a mumble of words which sounded like “thank you, Annie”, Hitch stopped breathing, and Annie found herself mourning a person she never directly spoke to, but nonetheless understood her better than anyone else.

Annie couldn’t let the Eldian army come in and discover Hitch’s body like. She had no idea what experimentation they would subject her to, and so she slowly began contrusting a crystal around Hitch’s body, protecting her from the outside world, just as it, and Hitch, had protected her.

Annie knew she shouldn’t have come out of her crystal. She truly was a wretched creature, cursed beyond any hope imaginable. The demon themselves had put a spell on her, she was a pillar of misery, and a beacon of no hope.

Yet it somehow warmed her heart to know that Hitch saw through that. Was she a friend to her? A potential lover? A soulmate?

Or was Hitch her rest and fantasy?

Annie knew she couldn’t mourn Hitch any longer. If she had it her way, she would stay hidden until the war played out before finding a shelter to live her immortal life out. But now, she had a reason to fight, she had someone to fight for, and she refused to let Hitch’s death be in vain. She pulled her black hood over head before walking up the long staircase leading to the outside.

It was time for her to put an end to this, once and for all.

[akirascrybaby]

white, red and black

pairing: jean/mikasa

cw: angst, smut, emotional hurt/comfort, terminal illness 

                                                  i. white

She was like a comet, Jean thought. He remembered the first time he saw her, with her raven black hair, composed personality and her crimson red scarf.

She was like a renaissance painting, almost as if she stepped out of a piece of hidden artwork by Leonardo Da Vinci, she was the epitome of beauty itself.

And it wasn’t like he was being shallow, while she was distant and a woman of few words, she was protective, strong, intelligent and loving, oh so loving, Jean thought, whenever he’d watch her with her childhood best friends Eren and Armin.

A small part of him resented Eren sometimes. He knew the green eyed boy was incredibly important to her, and that they had a bond that Jean could never replace. He was aware of that, but God, how he wished that he could be him, that he could be the one in her heart forever and always.

It wasn’t as if their bond was romantic. Eren was in a happily committed relationship with a mutual friend of theirs, Reiner, leading to an unlikely friendship between her and the beefy blond man. They were happy, but he wanted to give her that happiness that Reiner gave Eren, or Annie gave Armin.

She truly deserved it, that he was sure.

It was sheer luck that led to their first date, with Jean fumbling over his words when asking her if she wanted to grab some dinner, since Eren, Armin and Sasha were with their respective partners, and Connie and Marco were busy at work.

He never thought he’d hear the word yes slip out of her pretty mouth, and after a semi romantic meal, the pair spent the evening walking along the riverside, one minute talking about everything ranging from stress with exams to whether or not aliens exist, and spending the next minute in a sweet blissful silence, with the only sounds being the buzzing noise in their heads and the anxious pounding of their hearts.

He asked to draw her standing next to the riverside, holding her coffee cup and wearing her long black coat which reflected her hair, her little white hat and her crimson red scarf. He wanted to capture her glory, and she shyly said yes, much to Jean’s joy.

The first date turned into a few more, and Jean often found himself laying in bed, phone in hand, mentally slapping himself for not taking the initiative to ask her out once and for all.

He was a coward, even without the sly remarks from Sasha and Connie, he knew he was wasting time and that someone, anyone, would swoop in and win her heart.

Maybe it was the image of her in someone else’s arms, maybe it was the devil on his shoulder mocking his cowardice, but all it took was one fateful night for Jean to send a brief text asking her to be his, before he switched his phone off and hid under the covers in agony and regret, knowing he would feel nauseous in the morning.

His heart dropped when he saw a notification, and he couldn’t believe it when she sent him a reply saying yes, yes she would love nothing more than to be his, and yes she wanted to see him.

He was in a cruel dream, and he was going to wake up, he knew it.

The next few dates turned into a passionate relationship, and Jean would spend his days searching the streets for the perfect engagement ring, one that measured up to her.

His friends thought he was crazy. You’re rushing into things, would be Sasha and Armin’s words. Are you fucking insane, would be the response Connie and Eren would give him. And he needed to reflect on things before committing into something as intense as marriage, would be Marco and Reiner’s reply.

But they didn’t know how he felt. He didn’t care if he was being a hopeless romantic, always buying bright roses that mirrored her crimson red scarf, or baking her heart shaped pancakes for breakfast, or making her a personalized playlist with love ballads that would put Jack and Rose to shame. He loved her, and he didn’t care about anything else.

The wedding was a simple one. Despite Jean wanting the best nuptials money could buy, she assured him that their wedding day didn’t matter, as long as they had each other, earning a disgusted look from Eren and Connie, and a mocking laugh from Ymir and Porco.

The only thing he could think of during their wedding day was picking up bridal style, gently laying her down on a bed of roses, and placing small, soft butterfly kisses on every inch of her body, taking her to a new personal heaven that she never experienced before.

He also thought about how she completed him, how she made him shine like starlight, how she made him a better man, and how he never wanted to lose her.

Ever.

                                                    ii. red

The wedding night did not go as smoothly at first as Jean expected.

It started off with bumps and awkwardness, with Jean finding himself mesmerized by her beauty, almost afraid to touch her delicate figure, scared she’ll fall apart in his arms.

She called him ridiculous for his mentality, and slowly began undressing to reveal her red lace lingerie, before gently pushing a stunned and incredibly turned on Jean on the bed, before leaning over and placing hot kisses starting with his face, before lowering herself till she hovered over his very painful erection, and gently pressing on it with her knee earning a hiss from Jean, before standing up and demanding him to undress.

Jean was certain he had died and entered heaven. This had to be reward for the time he helped that old lady cross the street, and for the years he spent volunteering down at that soup kitchen.

He laid back down on the bed, completely bare, and she bent down to place her lips on his chaste ones, their tongues dancing while they every so often their eyes fluttering open, filled with gazes of longing love.

He wanted to please her, make her feel like the queen she is.

He suddenly bolted up, flipped her over, and began peppering her soft pale skin with sweet kisses, before gently undoing her crimson lace bra, and taking a moment to marvel in the sight of her stunning breasts.

His breath hitched for a moment, and she noticed, and she began to become self conscious, shielding her face with her arm before Jean stopped her, intertwining his hand with hers and placing two kisses on each breast, before placing one in mouth and gently sucking, with his tongue flickering across her nipple.

She felt euphoric, her back arching and her grip on Jean’s hand tightening, and Jean noticed, proceeding to fix himself up, wiping the drool from his mouth and placing his hands on the side of her hips, and slowly but very seductively slipping off her sunset coloured panties, making sure to take in the way her ways widened at the action.

He took a moment to take her ethereal beauty in, then brought his head forward, his mouth hovering over her soaked clit, and her swollen slit could feel every breath he took. It was wildly erotic for the both of them.

Jean took a sharp breath, still trying to compose himself, and latched his mouth onto her cunt, licking and sucking in a very animalistic manner, leading to shy moans slipping from her soft lips, and Jean, now feeling incredibly turned on himself, placed both arms on each side, and placed his lips on hers, allowing her to taste herself.

It was a lewd action, she thought, but God she loved it.

Jean leaned forward, placing his forehead on hers as he slowly entered her, once again intertwining his fingers with hers as he gave slow, powerful thrusts, with the only sounds in the room being their moans, the lewd squelching and the gentle pitter patter of rain outside.

They both came undone together, still holding onto each other for what felt like hours afterwards when Jean suddenly had an idea. He gently shook her, placing a small kiss on her cheek, before asking if he could draw her again, this time in her nude afterglow.

She turned red, but he assured her it would be between them only, but she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. Seeing his loving gaze, and knowing about much art meant to him, she agreed, and Jean spent the rest of the night sketching his nude wife.

A few months later, the pair brought a small house on the outskirts of the city, and they collectively opened a gallery together. She also taught boxing on the side, leading to teasing remarks from Porco and Connie that Jean’s wife was stronger than he was, to which Jean would reply that she could literally kill him and he would absolutely love that.

A year later, the pair announced they were expecting a baby. Jean remembered crying the first time he held his child in his hands, he couldn’t believe he created something so beautiful with the love of his life. Two years later, they welcomed another baby, and their growing family was complete.

Jean felt a sense of peace. Was this not all he ever wanted? He was on a cloud nine, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing that could ruin his happiness.

                                                iii. black

Jean really should have paid more attention to the signs that something was wrong.

Their years of marriage was bliss, but as time went on, he began to notice small changes in her. She seemed more weak, more frail and her mind was scattered, often forgetting the simplest things, worrying Jean.

He thought it could be due to the stress of having two children, so he sold his gallery, wanting to focus solely on helping her feel better. They went to the doctors multiple times, and were told she was just exhausted, and needed a small break.

And Jean took every word as gospel, asking his mother, Eren and Armin to take care of the little ones and he jetted her off to the Alps of Rome, the paved streets of Prague and the peaceful countryside of Switzerland, hoping her weakened state was due to her needing a fresh environment and a new diet.

While the trip was romantic, it had the opposite effect Jean intended. If anything, she fell more ill when they returned home, her body became more pale, there were small bruises forming on her skin if anyone touched her, and she wasn’t able to hold down any food.

Eren called in his brother overseas, Zeke, to come and check on her. After calling in a few of his other doctor friends to reaffirm (or in Zeke’s case, to hopefully prove him wrong), he sat Jean down and informed him of news he never wanted to hear.

She was dying.

If the doctor they went to before had noticed earlier, maybe something could have been done, but it was too late, and they estimated she had around two months left.

Jean remembered walking back to his mother’s house to pick up his children after hearing the news. The entire street was a blur, he remembered seeing flashing nights and hearing muffled voices, but he had no idea where he was going. This had to be a nightmare, right? He’d wake up in her arms and their little ones will come and jump on their bed before he dragged their feet to make them omelettes and pancakes. That’s it, it was all a dream.

Jean did wake up, but not to the sight he wanted. Instead of waking up next to her, he woke up with a concerned Reiner, Bertolt, Marco and Connie looming over him, having picked him up after he fainted on the street. They were concerned for him, but he pushed them away, locking himself in the nearest bathroom and for the first time since he was a child, he was crying, and praying to whoever was listening that instead of her, it would be him.

Jean decided to be strong for her and the kids. He spent almost every waking day near her, and tried to keep the dark news from their children as much as he could. The date Zeke said was inching nearer, and it was feeling like a heavy blanket on everyone.

One night, after he prepared dinner and put the kids to bed, he went to their shared bedroom to find her laying in their bed, her dark circles now more prominent, her hands running through her clean shaven scalp and her once tight fitting dress now completely loose around her body, silently weeping.

He got into bed with her, and knew that there wasn’t much he could say to alleviate the situation, so, he held her tightly, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and thanking her for completing him.

Suddenly, Jean jumped up, and scrambled through his drawer, before pulling out a small sketchbook and pencil. He held her face in his hands, placing a soft kiss on her forehead before asking to draw her, to draw her in all her beauty and glory, since she was always beautiful and important to him, and he needed to show her.

She nodded, and this time, instead of drawing her by the riverside or nude in their bed, he drew his beloved at what she felt was her weakest moment, but to Jean, it was her strongest.

The following morning, Jean walked in with a special breakfast he had prepared her. He shook her, trying to wake her up, but she seemed stoic, frozen and the only sign of anything was the small smile on her lips.

Panic began to set in and he shook her multiple times, calling her name and trying to wake her up.

“Mikasa.”

“Mikasa.”

“Mikasa.”

She was buried near a rose bush not far from their home the following day. Everyone was inconsolable, and Jean stood there, paralyzed, as the grief hit him like a nightmarish tsunami. She was gone. His Mikasa, was gone.

He reflected back on their life together. At the beginning, when his love for her was white, or during their marriage, when their love red, or during her final days, when their love was slowly turning black.

Regardless of the colour, his love for Mikasa was just that. His love. And it would defy all colours and time to live on, forever.

[akirascrybaby]

Fuck off im so in love with this fictional man it’s embarrassing

[akirascrybaby]

[akirascrybaby]

like or reblog if you save.

requested by: @xxbluediamondxx

[akirascrybaby]

plush headbands.

↳ armin arlert x gn!reader

↳ modern au; university au; fluff; comfort

↳ summary: a spa night is what you both really need after a long and gruelling semester.

↳ wc: 922

↳ reuploaded from old blog!

It felt as if he was back in his chemistry course with the way you were breaking down ingredients in the skincare products you’re showing him. Maybe he would enjoy chemistry more if you were the professor. 

“…and it has a bit of alpha-hydroxy acids, AHAs, in it to lightly exfoliate the skin. Nothing too crazy, and not as strong as this toner.” you reach over the sink, gently poking the product so Armin would know which one you were talking about.

Honestly, if Armin would’ve known that asking you about skin care would lead to this - you sitting on the counter in the bathroom with him standing between your legs, talking about it with such passion in your voice, and offering to put some on him - he would’ve asked you ages ago. His hands rest right above your knees, thumbs stroking the area lightly. Armin nods as you continue to ramble about different products. Your hands reach out and cup his face, lightly moving his face to look at him. “How’s your skin been feeling lately?” you ask, caressing his cheeks lightly. 

He contemplates for a moment, “I think it’s been pretty dry.”

You hum in acknowledgement before letting go of his face and grabbing a blue plush headband from beside you. You hold it up for him, “Can you put this on please? It’ll keep your hair out of your face and out of the products we’re gonna put on.”

Keep reading

[akirascrybaby]

this is gonna sound super basic but angel/devil with pieck!!

what costume are you and your self ship(s) wearing this halloween?

[akirascrybaby]

hopeless romantic pieck who sends handwritten letters to her s/o so she can feel a special connection to her lover despite being able to text/call them

hopeless romantic pieck who adores the autumn (or fall) and loves laying in the leaves with her s/o while declaring her love for them

hopeless romantic pieck who loves gazing at the sunset while drinking caramel coffee and gushing about whatever is on her mind

hopeless romantic pieck who bakes heart shaped cupcakes and secretly takes pictures of her s/o eating it 

hopeless romantic pieck who begs to watch titanic or the notebook but falls asleep on their chest halfway through muttering soft words about them while peppering their neck with sweet kisses

hopeless romantic pieck who covers her face out of shyness while making love, and quietly slips a ring on her lover’s finger during their climax

hopeless romantic pieck who is a dreamer, an idealist and a true hopeless romantic