#say what you will about catholics but they know how to hit you where it hurts

[percki]

the catholic church really revolutionized religion with the concept of guilt

[prettycottagequeer]

ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

[inkskinned]

they want to talk about mental illness and acceptance and how everyone is a little ocd it's cute and quirky and their "intrusive thoughts" are about cutting their hair off and you say yours are about taking a razorblade to your eye and they say ew can you not and everyone is a little adhd sometimes! except if you're late it's a personality flaw and it's because you are careless and cruel (and someone else with adhd mentions they can be on time, so why can't you?) and it's not an eating disorder if it's girl dinner! it's not mania if it's girl math! what do you mean you blew all of your savings on nonrefundable plane tickets for a plane you didn't even end up taking. what do you mean that you are afraid of eating. get over it. they roll their little lips up into a sneer. can you not, like, trauma dump?

they love it on them they like to wear pieces of your suffering like jewels so that it hangs off their tongue in rapiers. they are allowed to arm-chair diagnose and cherrypick their poisons but you can't ever miss too many showers because that's, like, "fuckken gross?" so anyone mean is a narcissist. so anyone with visual tics is clearly faking it and is so cringe. but they get to scream and hit customer service employees because well, i got overwhelmed.

you keep seeing these posts about how people pleasers are "inherently manipulative" and how it's totally unfair behavior. but you are a people pleaser, you have an ingrained fawn response. in the comments, you have typed and deleted the words just because it is technically true does not make it an empathetic or kind reading of the reaction about one million times. it is technically accurate, after all. you think of catholic guilt, how sometimes you feel bad when doing a good deed because the sense of pride you get from acting kind - that pride is a sin. the word "manipulation" is not without bias or stigma attached to it. many people with the fawn response are direct victims of someone who was malignantly manipulative. calling the victims manipulative too is an unfair and unkind reading of the situation. it would be better and more empathetic to say it is safety-seeking or connection-seeking behavior. yes, it can be toxic. no, in general it is not intended to be toxic. there is no reason to make mentally ill people feel worse for what we undergo.

you type why is everyone so quick to turn on someone showing clear signs of trauma but you already know the fucking answer, so what's the point of bothering. you kind of hate those this is what anxiety looks like! infographics because at this point you're so good at white-knuckling through a severe panic attack that people just think you're stoic. even people who know the situation sometimes comment you just don't seem depressed. and you're not a 9 year old white kid so there's no way you're on the spectrum, you're not obsessed with trains and you were never a good mathematician. okay then.

mental illness is trending. in 2012 tumblr said don't romanticize our symptoms but to be fair tiktok didn't exist yet. there's these series of videos where someone pretends to be "the most boring person on earth" and is just being a normal fucking person, which makes your skin crawl, because that probably means you are boring. your friend reads aloud a profile from tinder - no depressed bitches i fucking hate that mental illness crap. your father says that medication never actually works.

you still haven't told your grandmother that you're in therapy. despite everything (and the fact it's helping): you just don't want her to see you differently.

[chuthulhu-plays]

I generally watch LPs of horror games bc I'm too anxious to actually play them but a lot of them have FANTASTIC stories, so sometimes I just binge-watch KrinxTV for background noise. Been watching a lot of playthroughs of Still Wakes The Deep because it's such a delight to hear Scottish voice actors get work and I thought I'd address some questions I keep seeing Let's Players ask:

--Adair is a member of the National Front as you can find out from posters in his cabin, a Neo-Fascist British political party that’s been going since the sixties. While it often preaches British ethnic unity, in practice that often means “everybody in the UK should be exactly like East End Londerners” and features plentiful disdain for Scottish, Irish, and Welsh folk, alongside those perceived as “not British”. No wonder the wanker eats alone in the canteen.

--Neeps and Tatties=turnips and potatoes, mashed, drenched in butter or sauce. Fills your belly, keeps you warm, probably makes you sink like a stone because it’s so heavy.

--Cranachan=a dessert made of raspberries, honey, cream and oats, absolutely delicious

--Rennick calls Caz a “wee ned prick”. Ned is apocryphally said to stand for “non-educated delinquent” and is basically just a way of calling someone an uneducated, lower-class criminal

--A lot of things said by and about Roy indicate that he’s a teetotaller who went through AA and specifically became Catholic and is making an effort at converting Caz.

--I think it’s entertaining how Scottish nicknames often follow a pattern of shortening/rejiggering that I also see a lot with Australian nicknames—Cameron becomes Caz, Rafferty becomes Raffs, etc. Trots is an unusual one but is almost certainly a reference to him being a communist, presumably a Trotskyist. Gibbo is also an unusual one in that it’s just very silly. There’s a kind of indignity implied in being killed by a guy called Gibbo.

--A few times on the radio you hear the Shipping Forecast, a type of weather report aimed at specifically reporting weather conditions out on the ocean, and is also famous for the report being read in such a calm, soothing tone that some folk use it as a sleep aid.

--All the yellow paint for interactable things is very video gamey, yes, but is also in line with old British health and safety standards, and yellow paint on things like emergency ladders or on the edges of stairs that are trip hazards is a thing ou can still see in some older buildings.

--Caz keeps saying he’s “good with the leccy”; leccy=electricity. Caz is implied to be quite a wee guy who can get through a lot of tight spaces, and my uncle swears blind that electricians used to refuse to take on apprentices over a certain size because they only wanted to train wee guys who could get up into the tight spaces that a lot of older buildings are full of. On that note, “wee man” is a term of endearment, generally, and isn’t exclusively applied to short guys.

--Finlay saying of Gibbo that “he’s no right” is INCREDIBLY OMINOUS. It sounds mild but “he’s no right, that boy” is what older folk say about a child who’s been found disembowelling cats for fun or someone they strongly suspect is a pedophile. It’s not something you’d say about a friend who’s just acting a bit unusually.

– “Great minds united over a Buckie”--Buckfast, or Buckie, is a caffienated tonic wine that’s cheap, widely accessible, and is a bit like rocket fuel for bad decisions.

– “Ya roaster” tbh I don’t really know where it comes from, calling someone a roaster, but I’ve always felt like it has a vibe of telling them they’re huffing their own farts.

--Scunnert/scunnered--buggered, screwed, utterly fucked, etc

– “You’re the jammiest bastart on this rig” Someone who is jammy is someone who has incredible luck that is implied to be related to their sheer confidence or willingness to engage in risky behaviour. Walking along the street and finding a pound coin isn’t jammy; crossing the road confident that the cars won’t hit you and stopping in the middle to pick up a pound coin before making it unscathed to the other side is jammy as all hell.

--Barlinnie is the biggest prison in Scotland, and largely hosts violent offenders—it’s where Caz would definitely go for hospitalizing a man.

--Weans are children (contraction of wee yins/wee ones). I thought this one was contextually obvious but apparently not.

SPOILERS BELOW

--”One spark and the whole thing’ll go up”—this is referring to the wee spark of flame in the lighter used to blow up the rig, but is also kind of a pun because electricians are often called sparks or sparkies, and in the end it’s Caz who blows up the rig.

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 3 MATCH 28

Seteth propaganda:

“Mmm green dilf”

“Now he may just seem like a typical vice principal at catholic school for war criminals. But in reality he’s way more than that. He is really nice, and at sometimes overprotective over his daughter Flayn but he has a good reason for it. But in supports with other students he serves as a father figure to a bunch of traumatized teens. While being a traumatized dad himself. You may ask “how is he dateable?” Well Dilf. A man who’s a good dad is a man you can trust. And he enjoys writing stories too.”

"

The man literally looks at your character, who has been continually manipulated by almost everyone around them and had absolutely zero control over the course their life has taken and in his A support scene says "where I go and what I do will depend wholly on you" and "our future is yours to determine" AND HE MEANS IT and for a person who has so so little control over their whole life it just really hits home how much he cares about them to let them drive their own future. Like this man is willing to turn his back on his own family member for them after he learns how much said family member has manipulated the MC's life and I just 🤌🤌🤌 we love someone willing to stand up to their own toxic family members and tell them that what they've done is wrong

And when he proposes he says "But there is one thing I want to make sure you understand beyond any doubt… I am not proposing to you out of a sense of duty, nor a desire to perpetuate our bloodline. I want this because I am in love with you. I cannot conceive of a world without you in it." (because he and the MC are two of the last remaining people of their species, which was a part of the manipulation from his family member, so he just continues to reassure the MC that he just wants them not what they could give him) AND I JUST LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH IT'S SO IMPORTANT TO HIM THAT THE MC KNOWS EXACTLY HOW HE FEELS AND WHY AND HE'S NEVER HAD ULTERIOR MOTIVES TO GETTING TO KNOW THEM UNLIKE LITERALLY ALMOST EVERYONE ELSE IN THEIR LIFE 😭😭😭"

Emperor propaganda:

"- has tentacles ;)

- I like him 🥺"

[lmao-liz]

long distance video calls with soap

my first time writing anything and it’s smut ish. i’m usually a reader and recommender but god do I love this concept

cw: phone sex, mutual masterbation, vibrator use, voyeurism. (let me know if I missed anything)

you and johnny are in a new relationship. it’s your first relationship where the guys got an actual career. he’s someone important, he can’t tell you the details just that it’s demanding and can be dangerous at times.

you embrace the long distance phone calls and rare video chats. it’s worth it because when he’s home it's unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. you know he’s military or something along those lines, the time differences and crazy schedules make it obvious.

after a few months together he opens up. tells you about the team, his cap, gaz, and of course simon. how the long hours and being away all the time gets to the team, he’s pissed none of them ever talk about it.

him having someone to come home to, it changed his mindset, he feels bad for them. it’s empathy, a bit of pity. he’s having such a good time with you, it’s not new for him to want to share the things he loves with his teammates.

the team just got settled into bed, working for almost two days straight in some random country, everyone was out as soon as they hit their pillows, deployment’s running too long. it feels like an eternity since he’s seen you, felt you. he knows he has to keep external contact as low as possible, but the thought of seeing you. it’s his forbidden fruit.

he’s a catholic, in hindsight not a great one, he kills, does unspeakable things for his job. so what’s another tally? one that he knows he deserves, because he’s been working so hard, it would be worth it.

the video call only rings twice before you pick up.

5:33 am.

he should be sorry for waking you up, but he needs you. you answer in the darkness of your room face illuminated by your phone screen. the lights are off in the barracks but you can see him in his bunk, shirtless, an arm tucked behind his head.

he looks like the product of a wet dream. one of which you’ve had too many of to be relaxed seeing him like this. he asks you what you’re wearing, tells you he needs you. he’s desperate, working long hours, going through all kinds of shitty situations. he says he’ll return the favour once he’s home. you know he will, he always does.

you don’t resist when he asks you to lift your shirt. you know he’s been working so hard, it’s the least you could do. he tells you to grab the vibrator he got you just before he left. knows how sometimes you need it quick and strong, not afraid of you liking it more than him, he knows how desperate you get while he’s gone for long periods of time.

he’s whispering praise to you, you can see the movement of his arm behind the screen. the laptop propped up on his drool worthy abs. it’s quick, the vibrator hitting in just the right spot, johnnys not the only desperate one. you haven’t seen him in months.

johnny knows he should turn his volume down. the sounds of your pleasure are bouncing off the walls of the small barracks. he just can’t help himself, too focused on your contorted face, your sounds, the quiet hum of your vibrator.

it should be embarrassing how fast he comes, but seeing you, even through a screen, it's more than he’s had, his imagination can’t compare to seeing the real thing. his grunts and heavy breathing are enough to push you over the edge. you both writhe in pleasure, thousands of miles between you too, but it’s not enough to keep you apart. you’re even more tired, a good orgasm and seeing johnny, you know he can’t stay on the line longer, but you want nothing more than to actually get a chance to talk.

he tells you he’ll be home soon, make up for him being gone longer than he said he would be. he wishes you a good night saying he's got another busy day tomorrow. you blow him a kiss goodbye, making him promise to come home safe.

“alweys dae lass”

the call ends, you set the vibrator and your phone back on your nightstand, rolling over and drifting back into dreamland.

johnny sets the laptop to his side, wondering how he’s going to clean himself up without waking everyone up. just when he’s about to say fuck it and sacrifice his boxers, a box of tissues hits his shoulder. he catches it before it hits the ground and looks to the bunk across the small room, he can see the outline of the infamous skull mask staring back at him.

“didn't know you had such a pretty bird waiting for you back home johnny”

he swears he sees simon adjusting himself beneath his blankets. but it’s dark, he hasn’t slept in almost 40 hours. it’s just his mind playing tricks on him right?

is this actually good? I like it but it’s a word vomit of my thoughts so i’m insanely biased. do I continue writing or stick to recommendations…

[cr1mson5returns]

Although I enjoy a good "Jack Drake is a physically and mentally abusive asshole and deeply homophobic" fic as much as the next ex-Catholic lesbian, I have to admit that I have a way softer spot in my heart for "clueless blundering ass who makes everything worse" Jack Drake.

Maybe it's because my own parents were deeply homophobic in a very different way to others. If you asked them, they'd tell you they have no problem with queer people. They don't care what anyone does in the privacy of their own home, really! Therefore they're not homophobic! But they just don't think you have to make it your whole personality. You don't have to shove it in everyone's faces. And all these new labels for things, what's up with that? Isn't it enough for people to just be gay or straight?

So because I do be projecting, I have a soft spot in my heart for Tim coming out to Jack as bisexual, and Jack just sort of...short-circuiting, for a hot minute. "Well, I'll always love you, son." And Tim thinks that this went pretty well, actually. But Jack later is maybe telling Tim that there are ground rules for him and his dates. Can't bring boys back to the house, strict curfew, has to let Jack know where he is and with whom at all times. Jack doesn't kick Tim out or anything, or call him names, but it's uncomfortable living there now in a way that it wasn't before. Jack has a weird vibe about him when Tim talks about a boyfriend or a male crush. Shuts down the conversation really quickly and won't entertain it any longer. Jack starts being critical of Tim in ways that he wouldn't if he didn't know about his son's sexuality; he asks why Tim feels the need to have a bi pride flag in his room, or why he has to make this his defining characteristic now. And Jack never actually says the word "bisexual." It's always "this." How they just need to leave "this" alone for a while, they need to not make every conversation about "this."

Because Tim is such a person to let a person's good characteristics speak miles more than their bad ones, if they're close enough to him. He has plans in place if Batman goes rogue, but not for his own protection, never for himself. Always for everyone else's benefit. He can live with what happens to him if he's wrong. So of course he'd never call his dad a homophobe, that's not - his dad didn't kick him out. Doesn't hit him or call him names or say mean things to him. It hurts his feelings sometimes, but he takes worse than that from street thugs every night. It's not like he can't handle his dad being a little weird about things.

Right?

[britcision]

So I’ve been thinking about cultural Christianity lately and how people tend to get very upset about it without really understanding what it is, so here is a primer

Cultural Christianity is not a choice you make. It does not mean you are Christian, or even that you remotely like Christianity; a lot of people who vehemently hate the religion do so because of their own cultural Christianity

It is not a shortcoming, or a moral failing, or a sin. It just means that the culture you were raised in was predominantly Christian.

Note: I did not say “majority Christian”. Christians don’t need to be a majority to have a dominant cultural influence

Cultural Christianity means you inherently understand and probably use swearwords like “damn”, “hell”, or a variation on the name “Jesus Christ”

It means when I say cultural Christianity is not a sin, you understand exactly what I mean without needing to have it explained - and you probably know the phrase “original sin” or “seven deadly sins”, even if not in full detail

It means hearing about Hades, god of the dead, wealth, and volcanoes, and assuming he’s the bad guy of Greek mythology… y’know, like Satan

(EVERYONE went to Hades when they died. The Elysian Fields, where the best heroes went, was in Hades’ underworld. The Eleusinian mysteries, a cult to Demeter and Persephone, was basically about asking them to tell Hades to give you a cool afterlife

And he would cuz he drank his “respect wife” juice if not all of his “respect women” juice. Did still kidnap her. But she is a major feature and often makes the decision herself or influences his when they’re mentioned together

Meanwhile, people try and cast Zeus as a good parent)

It means having to have a dreidel, a menorah, or a kinara explained to you at a time when you already knew about Christmas trees and Santa

(Yes, Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, major host of the Mass of Christ, is culturally Christian. Even though Coke invented his aesthetic - that’s the “cultural” part)

It’s when you go to make up a new non-religious or pan religious winter celebration… that is centred around a day with family and gifts which is obviously the 25 of December. Maybe counting down 12 days before

It’s defaulting to calling a place of worship you don’t know the name of a “church”

Cultural Christianity is not something people have a choice in; you don’t pick where you’re born, and there are so many other cultures in places like Canada, America, and Britain that are culturally Christian out the ass! But… you will catch Contact Christianity in any of these places

It’s damn near impossible to consume any American or most Western media without brushing across it; cross imagery is everywhere, Christian demons and devils sneak into media all around the world

Western (and some other) Gothic fashion leans heavily on gothic architecture and, yeah, heavily Catholic imagery

Now, brushing across the media in other parts of the world does not impart the same level of cultural Christianity as growing up in a city with four churches on a single block and a Santa Claus parade

And you can grow up heavily in an entirely different culture even in the Bible Belt (but you know what Bible Belt means); you don’t have to abandon all other culture just because Christianity has a chokehold on your home

But when December (or fucking November these days) hits and you hear Mariah Carey in 3/6 stores, yes, you probably have some cultural Christianity

You sure as hell don’t need to be able to name half the denominations (can you name more than 4?), you may never set foot in a Christian church in your life, and still have a cultural Christian influence

If your street names have “saint” in them

If there are crosses or angels on more than half the graves in a cemetery

If you know how to cross yourself but aren’t really sure when you learned; you didn’t look it up or do research to find out

Now note: none of these have an inherent moral judgement attached to them

It’s just about what the culture you live in has taught you about the world, and there’s no culture that is magically the Right One or better than the others

There’s no reason to expect even specifically Christian culture to be the same around the world; it isn’t. It has the same root, but what flowers from the soil is another matter entirely

There is nothing wrong with acknowledging that you have culturally Christian influences and biases; being human is 90% absorbing information from the world around us and half processing it at best - there’s just too much input, and intentionally filtering out Everything Christian Ever?

Well unless you started at 2 years old, odds are pretty good it’s not really a personal choice kinda thing

And you cannot compensate for these influences unless you acknowledge that they exist, that you did not choose to form them, and that you do get to choose how they affect your actions going forward

Christmas stuffed a bunch of other religious traditions into a single package to make itself popular, but if you learned them as Christmas traditions first… do I even need to say it?

[ddarker-dreams]

Chrollo tells you a story from his childhood centered around bread.

(Warnings for religious mentions and canon typical depictions of his hometown, Meteor City)

“Hm… how uncanny is that.” 

Knowing that he’ll continue speaking cryptic phrases until you express an interest you most certainly don’t have, you sigh, and rest your cheek on your fist. 

“What’s uncanny?” 

Please don’t mean the bread, please don’t mean the bread, please don’t mean the bread— 

“This bread loaf,” he inclines his head toward it, as if you couldn’t spot the table’s lone occupant, “It’s bringing up some memories.” 

He’s really going to talk to you about bread. Fuck.

“Meteor City, destitute as it is, was an attractive prospect for missionaries. My friends cared little for the religious doctrine they’d expound, but I always found the teachings fascinating. It wasn’t uncommon to go days without eating, so they’d come along with me on the sole condition that food was being provided. The priest, knowing this, had me relay the message that at his next teaching, there’d be fresh bread. Children overflowed from the tent that normally only I would occupy. He preached his sermon.” 

There’s a nostalgic air to him as he continues. “By the end, he presented us with a challenge: whoever capable of best verbally expressing their devotion to God could have the bread. Each child present wanted to be the victor. There was a great deal of murmuring and thinking. He had us form a line, where one by one, we’d give what we hoped to be the winning response. My friend Phinks was first. ‘If I’d been there, I’da stomped the shit out of that snake,’ is what he went with. As you can imagine, the priest kept going down the line. 

Eventually, he got to me. I’d been closely monitoring his body language and facial expressions. From what I could tell, no answer so far had even come close. I decided to take a different approach. From his theology, I could tell he was of the Roman Catholic persuasion. And so I suggested that to best prove our love, we should have mass. I thought that by focusing on the collective rather than oneself, I’d meet his unspoken criteria. He intended to keep the results to himself until everyone had spoken their piece, but no sooner as the words left my mouth did I know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. 

After everyone had their turn, he brought the bread out for all to see. While we were all excitedly wondering who the lucky individual would be, he raised his voice and began admonishing us. He quoted Matthew, ‘It is written: Man must not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God’. With that, he left us there, so that we could ‘think about what we’ve learned’.” 

Your jaw practically hits the floor. 

“I intended to counter his points later that night to see if I could win the community the bread they were promised. While I was preparing, a few children happened by, eating the bread that was pulled from under our noses. I asked where they got it from — they said Uvogin. Apparently, he learned what had happened and was incensed. I went to go see him so I could ask how he convinced the priest to give him the bread. I didn’t find Uvo at the place he normally hung out at, but I did see the priest.

He was… shall we say, arranged in a way that’s strenuous on the body. All the while he kept chanting, ‘Pater, aphes autois, ou gar oidasin ti poiousin’, though he lay dying. It left a strong impression on me. Especially because his pronunciation was slightly off… but more than that, I thought it interesting he held firm to the belief which landed him in this position. A belief he didn’t even understand properly. He passed with a content expression. He must’ve fancied himself a martyr. It later became a popular joke that in the end, he did prove that you can’t live on bread alone, since it didn’t seem to do him much good.” 

“How… how old were you?” 

“Seven or eight, I believe.” 

You get up from the table. You can feel his eyes following your every movement, from the suite’s dining room to the living space it's connected to. The suitcase you’ve yet to unpack sits patiently as you rummage through its contents. Grabbing what you need, you return to the table, where Chrollo regards you with a curious countenance. 

Your antidepressants rattle inside a small orange container as you put it before him. How he gets the medication, you haven’t the slightest clue. It’s more convenient to receive them from your enigmatic kidnapper than an uninsured trip to the psychiatrist. He’s got one thing going in his favor, at least. 

“Do you already need a refill?” 

You shake your head. 

“Just… after hearing that story… I think you might want to consider getting some of these for yourself. High dose.” 

[with-my-murder-flute]

Cristabel and the proverbial sandwich

(Spoilers for Harrow and Nona the Ninth)

I have not known inner peace since I saw someone say, "But come on, does anyone ACTUALLY buy John's story about how the nun died?"

Because honestly, I'd just kind of gone, "Super random, very weird interaction, boy there sure are cult mindworms at play here," and moved on to the next page.

But as soon as I saw that question asked, the amount I did not buy that story hit me like a load of bricks, to the point I'm kind of amazed that I ever did believe it.

Two people. A locked door. A nuclear standoff. A close-range head injury.

On one side, a full-fledged Catholic nun—well done, that’s the classic—who's best friends with a staunchly atheist world-class scientist and believes, if we're to believe John, that Jesus's problem is that he didn't stick to office hours.

On the other, a woman described as, "A total delight. Effervescent. Kind to animals and children. A master of the sword. Did not have the intellect you’d ordinarily find in a sandwich or an orange, and was a sickening twerp into the bargain."

Oh, and in the middle, there's also a necromancer who wants to bring back his friends... minus any little details about things he they might have done wrong. He "knows where memory lives in the brain", and they "won't have any of it." And "guys as careful as me don't make mistakes," but then again, all that means is that if he kills someone, he did it on purpose.

C— talks her way into a locked room with John, who's on the phone threatening some world leaders with a nuke, expresses care and concern for him, and then... decides he needs more data on the soul? And kills herself to provide that for him?

I'll be honest, I just don't believe that John was an ordinary guy, totally normal, could be any of us, and he just got put in a really stressful situation and made some bad choices but who HASN'T done things they aren't proud of??? I reject that point of view completely. Like, Elon Musk in any given interaction probably is really stressed out and unhappy and having trouble responding in a way that's at all well-considered or emotionally mature, but that doesn't mean that Musk isn't also, at baseline, a deeply stupid, petty, immature, grandiose, entitled, egocentric person. No matter what situation you put him in, he's going to keep on being those things.

I think that John's initial idea was to put the entire human population of Earth, minus some necessary staff, into some giant cryonic freezers, and give the Earth some amount of time to rest and recover from the effects of human-caused pollution. A plan about which I will confess some hesitation myself; being told "just lie down in this coffin, bro, you'll only be a little dead, I'll totally bring you back to life* in a couple centuries (*98% effective!) " does not fill me with an enthusiasm to hop on board.

And then his project got cut. And he decided, "Well, if they won't agree, I can just make them agree." After all, all that end game needs is 10 billion frozen corpses hanging out in those tin cans, and a small team of staff left to keep the place running. How it gets there is something he can afford to be flexible about. If people won't climb in on their own, he can put them there.

So when C— or the nun tell him to stop focusing on revenge, to bend all his energies to saving the world, I think he thinks: Well, I am. He's gonna wash the earth clean at the end of this! He just needs to be able to set the dominoes in motion. He just needs to engineer a situation that will justify taking his nuke out of the vault and making the pieces fall.

A situation that would be sabotaged, ruined, if anyone made a true deep sincere good-faith effort to talk him out of Plan Nuke and called the legitimacy of this crisis into any sort of question. He needs to prevent that from happening.

Actually. Also. He needs one more thing than that.

He needs an excuse to use the nuke, but also, he's finishing his homework at the very last minute. He still hasn't mastered the soul. He does need a few more test subjects.

Maybe he let her in and thought: Two birds with one stone, eh?

[e-dubbc11]

Ik the summer sleepover is long gone 🥲 But i got hit with Matt Murdock feels and I saw the angst prompt list. Feel free to ignore this!!!!!

So this is for my fave catholic hoe 🫠

"You have to let go." - Y/N's already dead and he keeps hallucinating that she's still there

or

"I give up. You won." - Y/N breaks up with Matt because he always keeps her at arms length but it reaches breaking point when Elektra comes back

Chose wisely 😭💖

I could never ignore anything you send me, my dear friend ♥️ I hope you like what I did. I went with the first one BUT your second prompt reminded me of a Matt fic I wrote awhile back called Unsung Hero, so if you’re feeling ambitious, I’ll leave it linked HERE.

Thank you for always sending me things that pop into your brain, I love them ♥️

Letting Go

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F! Reader

Warnings: Death, dealing with grief

Word Count: 1.4K-ish

Summary: You’ve been gone for awhile yet Matt still feels you everywhere he goes, he swears you’re there with him but you’re not and in order to start processing his grief, he has to say goodbye

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It hit him every time he walked into the apartment. It was here where he felt an overwhelming sense of your presence…only you weren’t there, you had been dead for 8 months now.

Reminders of you were scattered all over the apartment like stray pairs of earrings on the nightstand, a bottle of your favorite perfume, or the blanket you used to when you were quietly reading on the couch.

Not having his sight, Matt was never exactly sure what you looked like. He only had the pictures in his mind. Based on the description you had given him, he knew your eye color, your hair color, and the tone of your skin but he remembered the softness in your voice, the curves and hollows of your body, and the sound of your heartbeat as you slept soundly next to him.

Matt could never see your smile but he knew when you were smiling. He felt it tug on his heart as it stretched across your face when he did something to make you laugh or when he called you “sweetheart” but it also crushed him to taste the salt in the air if you had been crying.

He loved the smell of fresh flowers you would bring home every Friday for your date night at home but you always bought ones that didn’t have a strong scent because you didn’t want it to be too overwhelming for him. He loved how considerate you were, worrying about overloading his senses, like if the music was too loud or if cleaning products were too strongly scented.

Matt’s only wish was that he could have kept you safe, he wished he could have protected you, and more than anything he wished he wasn’t the first one to hear your heart stop beating.

Everywhere he went, he felt you with him, and he swore you were there. When Matt stopped for his morning coffee or Thai food, he had to stop himself from ordering your usual. He just couldn’t believe you were gone. You were dead and never coming back.

The guilt ate at him every day. Matt blamed himself and his nights as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen suffered because of it. “What’s the point in doing this if I couldn’t save the one person I loved the most?” He had asked himself after a particularly bad night.

Talking to Father Lantom helped but not as much as he hoped it would. Matt wanted answers that Father Lantom didn’t have. He would just tell him that “God had his reasons.” And Matt just thought he was being punished in every way possible. It was the typical Catholic guilt.

“I know you don’t wanna hear it but you know exactly what I would do, Red. I’d make sure they’d never get back up again.” Frank had said.

By asking Frank for advice, you knew Matt’s desperation was apparent as he had seriously contemplated taking their life. He knew it wouldn’t bring you back but maybe it would make him feel better knowing he avenged your death.

Maybe the hallucinations would stop, maybe he would stop hearing your voice in his head, and just maybe it would stop him from reaching for you as he was trying to fall asleep at night. The scum of Hell’s Kitchen felt his wrath every night and with every punch he landed, with every drop of blood that was spilled, he had hoped he would start to feel better but he didn’t.

And what about the tortured and unspeakable dreams where he would have to hear you cry out in pain over and over again. The heartbreak Matt felt left him miserable enough to be vulnerable whether he was awake or asleep.

At least when he was awake, he could throw himself into his work, talk to Foggy and Karen, and you would be far away from his mind. It was the alone time that left him confused, angry, and ashamed. Those feelings infiltrated his body where his heart was scorched and irregular with spasms.

“I still feel her here, Foggy! I can still smell her perfume, feel her smile against my lips, and hear her laugh. I swear she’s still here!” Said Matt, emphatically.

“But she’s not Matt, she’s gone.” Foggy had said.

You knew all of this was true because you were stuck in between worlds, you could see him. And like an angel on his shoulder you were there with him, protecting him as he was protecting his city.

As he sat perched on the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen, you would reach for him, gently brushing his shoulder, and you were positive that he could tell you were there by the way his head would tilt to the side. You knew you couldn’t stay with him forever, but long enough to be able to tell him goodbye and that you were alright.

With his cheeks flushed with rage and his mouth twisted in anger, Matt left the office and headed for home even though that’s where he felt your presence the most.

He decided not to go out that night but instead he set aside the random belongings that you had left behind, held them in between his fingers, and gently inhaled the scent of your perfume one last time.

“You’re here with me now, aren’t you angel. I know you are; I’m not crazy like Foggy thinks I am.” Said Matt.

You’d give anything to be able to touch him again, to feel his days-old stubble against your cheek, or run your fingers through his soft brown hair.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling but knew you didn’t have much time so you moved in close to look at him one more time.

Matt was so handsome. You were going to miss his hazel colored eyes with the little flecks of gold like autumn leaves, the dimple on his cheek when he smiled, his soft full lips against yours, and the low gravelly tone of his voice. It always sounded so calm and soothing to you except on the night you died.

His screams could probably be heard for blocks in every direction but he was the last thing you saw before your world went dark and you were suddenly looking down at your body while Matt tried and then the paramedics tried to revive you.

After your funeral, Matt stayed after everyone else had left and apologized profusely for not being able to save you. Matt had to let you go but he told himself that burden of guilt rested on his shoulders. Although, you knew it wasn’t his fault.

You knew he couldn’t hear you but you replied anyway.

“I’m here, Matty, but I have a feeling not for much longer.” You said, trying to touch his hand but it just passed straight through and maybe you willed him to hear you as you spoke again. “You have to let go.”

You sensed he was ready to say goodbye which pained you more than that mugger’s lethal stab wound ever could.

“I don’t want to but I have to let you go, sweetheart.” Matt said as his eyes shined with unshed tears. “I’ll always love you, y/n.”

If you were capable of crying, you would have.

“I’ll always love you too, Matt.” You said with a warm smile and “touching” his face.

He closed his eyes and let out a long exhale just as you swept your hand across his cheek, almost as if he could feel your touches.

A slight smirk stretched across his lips as he said, “You’re trying to tell me you’re ok, aren’t you.”

Your hand ghosted against his other cheek and he smiled again.

“I’m ok, Matty. It’s alright, you can let go now.” You said.

The light at your back was calling to you. It was time to go. Although you didn’t know where you were being called to, you wished with all your heart that Matt would be alright and deep down, you knew he would be.

As you turned to walk away, you gazed at Matt one last time, committing to memory what he was wearing, the look on his face, and any other small things you never wanted to forget about him.

You loved the way he adjusts his glasses, rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up, the way he puts his suit on in the morning, or anytime he kissed you and told you he loved you.

You wondered if he had little things about you he committed to his memory, and if he did, what were they? It made you sad that you’ll never know what they could be but you hoped that Matt Murdock would never ever forget you.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @chezagnes @elgrandeavocados @freshabogados @matt-erialgirl

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @k-marzolf @fluffyprettykitty @hellskitchens-whore

Thank you for reading, I appreciate it! I’ve only tagged a handful of people. If you liked it, you can tell me, I don’t bite. I know I haven’t written for Matt in awhile, no pressure.

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

I have this headcanon for Alastor's back story where he's trans, and just as himself, as he is in the show, even as a kid. So his parents sent him of to a convent, were upon ww1 breaking out in his late teens, he ran away, forged a new identity as a man, got found out once he was already over seas, blackmailed a superior into letting him stay on, where he was introduced to radio communication, and the rest is history.

But all that to say, I like to then imagine, whenever anyone tells him something mildly outlandish, but definitely true, he likes to respond with "Yes, Vox, and I took a vow of celibacy when I was a catholic nun"

To which of course people think, "so you don't belive me? I mean but aren't you a virgin? Are you not????"

And of course, this never gets asked because who's gonna ask The Radio Demom about his Sexy Life.

Angel Dust that's who.

I imagine him doing an interview on Al's Show, just a mix of publicity for them both, hanging out because they're friends, and it's all a big middle finger to the Vee's.

Maybe it's pride month and so they were planning some talk about that, Alastor joking about a possible comming out, even though its plenty well know Alastor is some where on the ace spectrum to anyone with eyes.

They get on the topic somehow, Angel says something like, "I never laid myself across the bar like that! Second set of arms at most! Never my butt, never mind my legs! not after the first time!"

"Mh-hm. You got desperate in your flirting, and I took a vow of celibacy, when I was a nun. We all do silly things, Angel."

"Well, maybe I've laid out on the pool table, but it makes for good pictures. Anyway, I been meaning to ask you about that."

"About being a nun?

"No," angel laughs, plays it off, thinking he's joking. "About your being ace and all. No pressure, but like, you really never even wanted to try?"

"No, I find it quite repulsive. The idea even,"

"You don't watch nothin'? Read nothing either?"

"Ha! No! The filthy little novel Sister Amillia sneaked in the once was quite enough- are you okay Angel?"

Angel had infact just chocked on his latte. "Wait? Sister Amillia? Sneaked in? To where!?"

"The convent, Angel. I was 14, she was 16. Wonderful woman, taught me how to handle a knife, she left shortly after the novel was discovered- Sister Tabitha was as squeaky a little rat as she looked- never saw Amillia again, though."

"Wait, sorry. You were a nun, like, actually? What the fuck?"

One of the little lights that says they have a caller lit up, but Alastor ignore it for now. "Yes, Angel, do keep up."

"Wait, so like that nun costume you wear on halloween?" Angel blows right past the fact Alastor just came out as trans, because yeah. Didnt see it comming but, the trains already wizzing by, and more importantly- "Is that like your actual nun costume?"

"Ha! No, I flung that horrid thing in a garbage can on my way to the enlistment office when I was 17."

"Enlistment?" Angels begining to see what Alastor meant when he said this episode was going to be a unique experience for his listeners at the start of the braodcast. "Like world War 1, right? You were alive for that..."

"Yes, I figured with all the confusion one little girl-"

Angel's phone goes off. It's Val. Angel hits ignore.

"Fuck off Val, I'm off today" Angel says into his mic.

But they get interrupted again and again until Angel turns his phone off.

At which point all twelve of the little light that indicate the show had callers on the line, light up.

"Ah fuck. What does he want that bad? Can you just answer it real quick?"

Alastor flips a switch and answers.

"The fuck you want Val-"

"I'm not calling for you!" It's Vox on the other end, his voice booming from the speaker "Alastor! Are you fucking serious? You were a fucking nun?"

"Yes, Vox." He says with faux patience. "My goodness, did you all stuff your ears with cotton this morn-"

"So you DID actually take a vow of Celibacy? The other day at the meeting during my presentation, you said "that'll work, Vox, sure- and I took a vow-"

"Yes. I was there."

"And!?!"

"Celibacy, among other things. If this is a dig at my sexuality than-"

"Nah fuck that, hang on I'm doing math! Okay you were born in 1901, makes you 17 in 1918, yeah that tracks. Okay so 2024 make you 123, minus the 17 years to be conservative, thats 106 yeah?"

"I was 15 when I took that vow, and under threat of being institutionalized, if that's what you're getting at-"

"108! Ha! Oh my God! 108 years! That's gotta be a record!"

"What are you getting at Vox?"

"You took a vow!" Vox screams through his laughter. "All the pomp and circumstance! On consecrated ground! before god!? To abstain from sex! And even here in hell, were sin and blasphemy are rampant and free-"

"Careful Vox, your televangelist is showing-"

"Who gives a fuck!? You're the one whos upheld their vow to God for over a century like some devout saint!"

Angel and Alastor sit there staring at eachother while Vox laughs his head off around them

"Saint Alastor the Abstinent! The pantron Saint of Virgi-"

Alastor hangs up. "Well that was informative!" Alastor chirps "Well, What's to be done about this? Hm, Angel?"

And for some reason, an unholy one, surely, the first thing out of Angel's mouth is "I could suck you dick? If that- would count?"

And it's a testament to how far they've come as friends, or pooooossbily Alastor's nerves, or maybe his sheer unwavering bravado, but Alastor only bursts out laughing, shaking his head as he get out between laughter "I don't- have one!"

And then they're both laughing and laughing and laughing, and eventually they calm down, and Alastor gets a thoughtful look. "Though, Vox did have one good point."

"Oh?"

"That does have to be a recorded, at least among sinners. Why! I very well might have redeemed myself! We should certainly bring this up with Sera at the next conference!"

And then their off both laughing again, imaging Serra's face when she realises she's going to have to look into yet more research onto the workings of redemption from Heaven's end.

[crazychaoticizzy]

Slutty Red Dress

The very second Eren saw that purity ring on your finger, he knew he needed to have you for himself. Lucky for him, you're trying to figure out the perfect way to piss off your parents.

EREN X READER

CONTENT: MINORS DNI, all characters are of age, modern au, college au, fuckboy!Eren, Catholic!Reader, drinking, Fem!Reader, brief mentions of homophobia, smut, oral (f receiving), public fingering, exhibition, virginity loss, dirty talk?, unprotected sex, creampie, light choking, degradation (kind of?), praise, mating press, probably unrealistic but that's fine, definitely not beta read, proof read or even reread by me, let me know if I missed anything

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

masterlist

AOT masterlist

The moment Eren Yeager saw that purity ring sparkling on your finger was the moment he knew he was the one that needed to take your virginity.

He didn't even know you all that well—you were just an awkward acquaintance that sat beside his best friend all four years of high school. He only ever saw you in passing, be it walking past you in the hallways or across the cafeteria laughing with your friends.

He never paid you any mind until one day, the day you turned sixteen, you walked into school with a ring on your finger.

You wore it everyday, and Eren eventually asked around and found out it was a purity ring your parents had given you.

Since then he'd been doting on you, finding reasons to sit near you or talk to you. He'd started greeting you in the hallways and waving to you in the lunchroom.

He practically stalked your Instagram page to see if you had a boyfriend and learn any other information about you. That was how he found out you were a devoted Christian waiting to give yourself away until marriage. To his knowledge you remained single throughout all of high school, hardly showing an interest in anyone.

That same routine had gone on for years, but the effort proved to be fruitless because you always either sneaked away before he had a chance at a proper conversation or were surrounded by your friend group.

When the first year of college came around he prayed to God that you hadn't moved out of the city to attend some fancy ivy league school. You had always been a million times smarter than everyone in your graduating class and he knew the list of extracurriculars you'd participated in over the years went on for miles. Any college would be lucky to have you.

But when the first semester came around, you were there, coming out of the campus Starbucks holding a mystery drink.

With that fucking purity ring on your finger.

He was almost surprised—he remembered you saying towards the end of your senior year that you had planned to go to Stanford, he'd even heard later in the summer that you had been accepted. What baffled him was why you would choose Paradis University over the dozens of much better schools you applied to and (most likely) got accepted into.

After he digging around he found out that your parents had hidden all your acceptance letters and forged rejection letters instead. Apparently they didn't want you going where they couldn't keep a close eye on you.

It piqued Eren's interest, especially because from what he had seen you'd never shown interest in a romantic relationship.

The first couple weeks you had seemed pretty down, but soon enough you were back to the smiling, innocent girl Eren was used to.

—

He often saw you at parties, standing in the corner drinking from a plastic water bottle while you either scrolled on your phone or observed from the side. You never wore anything too out there or revealing, normally going for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew you were the designated driver for your friend group, and had tried multiple times to approach you only to be dragged back into the crowd by the girl he'd been talking to before you arrived.

He remembered the first time he saw you at a party, actively rejecting a guy hitting on you while you scrolled on your phone. It had been the first college party Eren had attended, and he remembered leaning over to whisper, "I'm gonna fuck her," in Armin's ear.

His gaze never left you, and when Armin turned his head to see who Eren was talking about he laughed.

Eren had raised his eyebrows at Armin as if to ask what was so funny.

Armin slowly nodded, softly chuckling. "Good luck with that. Have you met her?"

"Of course I have. She seems easy enough."

Arming laughed again, taking a sip of the off-brand beer in his hands. "Seems. She definitely isn't. Y'know how many guys have hit on her in the past? Plenty during the classes we've had together alone. She always rejected them, but not just that. She would destroy their egos, dude. Not to mention her parents are fucking psychos."

"Right, they forged rejection letters from ivy league schools just so she would have no choice but to stay where they could watch her," Eren said absentmindedly. Truth be told, he wasn't listening to a word Armin said, instead watching as you continued to give curt responses to whoever hit on you.

"They don't let her out of their sight. Ever. See her over there?" Armin vaguely motioned to the couch across the room, where a redhead wearing a tight green dress sat. "She's someone her parent's hired to follow her around and keep an eye on her."

Eren glanced over at the girl before his gaze returned to Armin. "And how do you know all this?"

Armin shrugged. "I'm the only person she talks to that isn't a church friend or was introduced by her parents. She tells me stuff she wouldn't dare tell them."

"So she knows she's being watched?"

"Of course she does. She doesn't know about the letters, though." Armin took another sip of his beer as Eren hummed, glancing back at you. He gently slapped Eren's arm when he was drifting from reality again. "Don't try anything. She's a sweet girl and doesn't need shit like you getting her in trouble with her parents."

Eren held his hands up in mock defense. "I wasn't even doing anything!"

Armin glared at him, the same scolding face he'd been giving Eren for years when he did something wrong. Eren rolled his eyes, dragging Armin to go play beer pong.

Three years later Eren was surprised your parents hadn't married you off already, purity ring still sparkling on your finger.

This was the year. He was determined to sleep with you at some point. Whether it be during the fall or spring semester, it would happen.

And it finally did one night when you were wearing a lovely red dress.

—

Imagine the look of surprise on Eren Yeager's face when he saw you—the sweet, innocent, Catholic girl that never wore or did anything to purposely arouse men—wearing the sluttiest red dress he'd ever seen, drink in hand and grinding your ass against some random guy.

He was so taken aback he froze, standing in the doorway as he watched the way your hips smoothly moved. He wondered where you learned to move like that for a moment before being pushed out of the doorway.

He tore his gaze off you, turning his head to give a half-assed apology to whoever had pushed him. When he turned back to look at you, your arms were wrapped around a woman, feeling her up before kissing her.

Eren's eyes widened. Oh, dear, what were you up to? Showing up to a frat party dressed in what you wore was one thing, he could assume you simply wanted to try it out for once, but kissing a girl? Especially when your parents were very publicly homophobic.

He's not exactly sure what, but something inside him knows tonight is the night.

And, dear God, with the way you're grinding against everyone but him makes him feel so hot and heavy.

You're still wearing your purity ring, but Eren takes note of how you so obviously make sure its seen. You're practically waving it in front of everyone's faces with the way you flip your hair behind your shoulder and exaggeratedly put your hand to your chest.

And Eren definitely doesn't miss the hungry look in his classmates' eyes as you do so. He had pushed the jealousy down, instead asking around to see if anyone knew what you were up to. No one knew, but he knew that he was going to be the one you did something with.

He sees the woman Armin pointed out to him years ago, the redhead hired to watch you, holding a red solo cup to her lips as she watched you. You definitely knew she was watching you, but that didn't stop you from feeling up and kissing more people.

Once, the only time he had taken his eyes off you that night, Eren turned back to find you pressed against a wall, legs wrapped around his friend Jean as he sucked on your neck. Eren couldn't hear you, but he saw your lips open to moan in Jean's ear.

You were making direct eye contact with Eren, and you smirked when he turned back to you. His cock had already been semi-hard, but dear god that look you gave him just made his ache for you stronger.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

You'd found out earlier that week what your parents had done to your acceptance letters before you even started college. You had been looking for something in their closet, and found a long forgotten box that held the letters inside.

You grew even more pissed as you read each one. This is what you could have had instead of attending some general college that accepts anyone that applies. You could've been at the ivy league school of your dreams instead of cooped up inside your parents' house all day.

Reading the letter from Stanford is what blew your fuse. You knew your parents were protective, but this was a lot more than necessary. This was the kind of bullshit psycho helicopter parents who set up hidden cameras in their children’s room pulled.

You decided that you needed to get them back some way.

You figured being an active participant in a college party would be enough to make them blow up, but while you were staring at Eren from across the room, pressed against the wall by one of his closest friends, you knew you wanted to do more.

You'd known Eren had the hots for you since your mother gave you the purity ring that sat on your finger. You knew that the reason he started talking to you so randomly was because he wanted to get into your pants.

You had hoped to get away from it when you were across the country, attending the school of your dreams.

And when your dad handed you the forged rejection letter, you hoped Eren's little obsession with taking your virginity would fizzle out once the first semester started.

You were very wrong about that. But you suppose that's a good thing, now. Especially since recently he seemed to have a different air about him, and suddenly your intention to make your parents as pissed off at you as you were at them seemed like a piece of cake. Losing your virginity—to a non-Christian at that—would definitely do that.

It's not like you genuinely wanted to wait until marriage, or even a committed relationship, anyway. You always figured that if the opportunity arose you'd take it, and it never did. Not with anyone you kind of liked, at least.

You gently pushed Jean away, making up some excuse about needing to go check on a friend. He nodded, kissing you once more before letting you go.

Jean was nice, but definitely not who you wanted your first to be.

You approached Eren with swaying hips, leaning on the kitchen counter beside him and innocently smiling up at him. You propped yourself on your arms, making sure to make your boobs look bigger by pushing them together.

"What are you doing, Miss Catholic?" he asked before you even got a chance to say anything. He offered you a drink from his cup, to which you politely declined.

"I don't think I know what you're talking about," you replied. You slowly licked your lips, watching as his eyes followed your tongue.

"Well the first thing I see walking in is yourself in this lovely little number." He gently grabbed your hand, making you straighten yourself out before making you spin for him. "And then I see you kissing a woman."

"Is there something wrong with that? I'm a supporter of the LGBT community, you know." He stopped spinning you, which gave you an opportunity to stand closer to him.

"I knew that you were, you're just not one publicly. Your parents hate that community and you would never do something that goes against their morals."

You softly hum. "What else am I doing?"

Eren's hand travels, finding itself resting on the small of your back. He pulls you against him, smiling down at you. "Well you're grinding and switching guys to make out with like a fucking whore. Trying to get attention, sweetheart?"

He leaned down, your noses nudging each other. "Jealous I've done that with everyone but you?"

"And what if I am?" Eren's voice is low and sultry, almost like he's trying to seduce you. Which he really doesn't have to do since you're already soaking your panties.

You let out a breath of amusement, smiling up at him as you bring a hand up to trail down his chest. “Listen, Eren, I know what you’re after.”

“What am I after?”

You meet his gaze. The emerald green of them reminds you of sin and evil, especially with the way Eren looks at you like you’re a piece of meat meant to be devoured.

Your hand tightens in his shirt, pulling him so close your lips nearly lock together. “You want to corrupt me,” you whisper. “You want to be the one that takes my virginity, don’t you?”

The way he grins and hums tells you everything you need to know. He’s still obsessed with that. Before, back in high school, you never would’ve dreamed you’d be in this position, but here you are, standing in a borrowed dress desperate to lose your virginity.

“I’m willing to give it to you,” you say in his ear. “If and only if we make a big deal of it first.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. “Oh? What do you mean by that?”

You softly hum. “I need to piss my parents off, and nothing will get them going more than knowing their little girl allowed herself to sin so willingly and have sexual intercourse before marriage. I need them to know that I did it. If we just go up to a room they can assume I didn’t give myself away like that. Their little assistant they hired to spy on me wouldn’t follow us to confirm whether or not I did it, so we need to do something she can report in her line of sight.”

Eren nodded, his fingers spreading across your back. “I can work something out for that.”

He smiles, a beautifully devious smile, and looks down at you. You return the smile, finally pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

—

Your soft intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed. The redhead in green sits across the sitting area from where you and Eren are sat. You notice her eyes dart away from her phone towards you, her hands still pretending to scroll through social media.

You exaggerate another moan as he kisses your neck, spreading your legs even more to allow his fingers to slip inside of you instead of grazing over the insides of your thighs.

“You’re making it sound fake, sweetheart,” Eren whispers in your ear. He eyes the woman in green, watching as she crosses her legs and leans back on the couch. “Don’t force it.”

“Well sorry.” You roll your eyes. “I’ve never done this before.”

Your breath hitches when you feel the tips of his fingers softly graze your clothed pussy. God, you just know he can feel how wet you are. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so embarrassed about anything.

“God, you’re fucking wet. All this for me?”

Not exactly, you think. You had unintentionally turned yourself on while grinding against multiple people, allowing yourself to imagine for just a moment what it would be like to fuck them.

“Of course it isn’t. Because you’re nothing but a whore desperate to displease her parents.”

His words alone were enough to make you softly whine, but mixed with the way he delicately moved your panties to the side and ran his middle finger up to your clit had you moaning his name.

It wasn’t a secret what you two were doing, but no one cared. They were either too shit-faced to remember or were too focused on other things. The two of you were almost free as birds where you sat.

You sharply inhale, hand gripping the navy chair’s arm as he slowly slipped a finger inside your folds.

You softly gasp, letting your head drop back onto his shoulder as you close your eyes. You’re on display for anyone to see, but that thought gets put on the back burner once you feel the cold metal of Eren’s rings press against you.

He starts leaving kisses along the side of your neck, his free hand slowly traveling up and down your torso.

“You like this, huh?” Another moan slips from your lips as he adds his ring finger. “Never would’ve taken the pretty Catholic girl to be so into something like this.”

“Eren, please.” It’s pathetic, really, the way he easily managed to turn you to putty in his lap. The way you quietly beg for him to move his fingers faster was humiliating, but you couldn’t help the way it made you feel.

“Please what?” You couldn’t see it, but you could feel Eren's condescending gaze burning through you. “You need to speak up.”

You softly grunt as his other hand moves down, gliding across your clit. You press your lips together to suppress a moan. "You know what, asshole."

He laughs in your ear, thrusting his fingers into you just a bit faster. His other hand moves up to softly squeeze one on your breasts, moving your dress down.

He stops just as your tits are about to spill out, moving his hand to place a firm hold on the base of your neck.

"We move at my pace, sweetheart. Got that?"

You sigh in frustration, your grip on the chair tightening as you roll your hips against his hand.

His hold on your neck tightens and he removes his fingers from inside you, making you whine out at the loss.

"My pace."

He's gone back to teasingly rubbing your entrance, always just barely missing the spot you need his most. When you let out a sigh of defeat and relax in his hold, he slips his fingers back inside.

You moan at the sudden intrusion, your legs involuntarily moving to close.

Eren moves his free hand to your thigh, forcing your legs to stay apart. "Don't fucking run. You asked for this, remember?"

His words go in one ear and out the other, but you nod anyway. You don't think you'd be able to find it in yourself to disagree with anything he says—not with the way his fingers slowly drag across your walls, making you desperate for more.

This time when you start rolling your hips he doesn't stop you. He lets you slowly rub yourself on his hand because he's too distracted by the way your ass grinds against his cock.

God, this needs to hurry up so he can fuck you already.

The way his fingers suddenly speed up has you keening his name, pressing yourself further into him. You weren't sure if the redhead had been watching you before, but you're sure of it now because you see her stand up and leave.

You smile, turning your head to whisper, "Okay, she saw. We can-"

You moan, his long fingers grazing a spot you didn't even know was there as his thumb drew slow circles on your clit.

"We're finishing what we started. Now be a good girl and sit still."

His free hand splayed across your stomach, keeping you from squirming or moving away as his fingers increase their speed. You grip the arms of the chair, attempting to muffle a moan. It seemed to suddenly occur to you that there could be people watching. It didn't matter how high or wasted they were, they would still be drawn to the show.

Eren whispered something in your ear. You didn't understand what he'd said, but the tone of voice had the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and your pussy clenching around his fingers.

He condescendingly hummed in your ears as you came undone with a cry of his name. He let out an amused breath, slipping his fingers out of you and readjusting your panties. He gave your cunt a soft pat before gently pushing you off him.

Your legs slightly shook as you stood and fixed your dress, not used to the amount of pleasure you had just received. You fixed your hair, letting out a heavy breath before turning back to Eren.

You almost told him goodbye, your original plan completely slipping your mind. Now that your parents' redheaded employee had seen you and walked away from the party, it completely slipped your mind that you'd promised Eren could be your first.

Even if you'd forgotten, you most certainly didn't mind when he grabbed you by the elbow and began dragging you upstairs.

—

The two of you were hardly dressed when Eren kicked the bedroom door behind him. You're not sure whose room you were in, but you guessed it was a guest room based on the monochromatic color scheme and lack of personality.

Whose room it was didn't matter, though. Not when you didn't even know whose house you were currently in, and especially not when Eren's hands were hot against your skin, desperately trying to remove that slutty red dress from your frame.

He tossed it to the ground once he'd gotten it off, taking only a couple seconds to admire your body before picking you up. Your lips connected in a heated kiss before he started trailing his lips along your jaw and neck.

"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted you," he moaned into your ear. He dropped you onto the bed, quickly removing his clothes. You didn't even get a chance to look at him before he was on top of you, body pressed to yours. "How long I've wanted you under me like this."

His breath was hot against the column of your throat, planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders and chest. One of his hands held him up, the other leaving a burning trail behind as it drifted to the hem of your panties.

You lifted your hips slightly as he pulled them off, haphazardly tossing them somewhere in the room to be found later.

He continued trailing kisses across your body before you felt something poking at your hole.

You suppressed a soft gasp, immediately being shushed by Eren's soft lips on yours. It was the gentlest thing he'd done all evening, the kiss being chaste and sweet compared to everything else.

"This might hurt a bit, sweetheart. I'll be gentle."

You softly nodded, keeping your eyes closed as you braced yourself for what was to come.

He gently pushed into you, your sharp gasp of surprise enough to make him pause until you told him to continue.

He was so big, though it shouldn't be surprising considering the reputation he has. The rumors that he has the best dick on campus should've set different expectations for you, and though you have nothing to compare it to, you can't imagine ever getting fucked better than this.

Once he's bottomed out inside you he stops, waiting until you give him the green light to go.

He might have been hoping this would happen for years, but it was still your first time. He wanted to make it enjoyable.

"You can move now," you whispered. He gave a single nod, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head before pulling back, slowly thrusting forward.

You gasp, breath hitching in your throat as your eyes shut in pleasure. Eren leaves kisses along your neck as he continues his slow, languid thrusts.

While you're enjoying what he's doing, it's not enough. You need more. You half expected him to fuck you like a crazed animal, thrusting into you with reckless abandon as you beg him to go slower. You never imagined you'd be begging him to be rougher.

Your request is met with a soft chuckle. "You sure, sweetheart?"

You nod. "Yes, I'm sure. I can handle it."

He tilts his head, slightly shrugging. "Alright then."

His hands release yours, moving down your body. He pushes your legs to your chest, making you hold them there.

The new angle makes his thrusts reach deeper inside you. Eren's thrust are long and hard, making you cry out with each one. When one of his hands traveling to where the two of you were connected and stimulating your clit.

All of that combined with the way a sudden, desperate moan slips from him has you seeing stars, clenching around his cock.

His breaths are heavy, soft grunts leaving his lips. "Jesus fucking Christ," he breathes. Your eyes are just barely open, enough to watch his head drop to your chest. You can tell he's fighting the urge to ram into you, which you greatly appreciate.

"M'gonna fill this pussy up, yeah?" You barely process his words but you're nodding anyway, too far gone to care about much else. The way you tighten around him at the words has his groaning as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your body. "You like that idea, huh? How d'you think your parents would react when they find out?"

He knows damn well you can’t answer with the way his cock hits all the right spots inside you. You give a cry of his name instead, orgasm racing to the finish line as his thrusts become sloppier.

“Fuck.” He bites his bottom lip, eyes screwing shut as he suppresses a moan. His orgasm reaches the edge first, his warm cum filling you to the brim. He’s determined to make you finish, too, though, so he fucks into you faster, pushing his cum deeper into your womb.

Your moans are music to his ears, hands still trying to hold your knees against your chest so desperately. The squelching of your mixed fluids is all that fills your ears before your breath hitches, pussy clamping down on his cock as you gush around him.

You release your legs as Eren falls on top of you, panting heavily as he laughs.

“What?” Your voice is hoarse, and you can feel your throat starting to get sore.

“That was the best pussy I’ve ever had,” he simply says.

You laugh as well, shaking your head. “You’re only saying that because I’m a virgin.”

He shakes his head into your chest. “You’re not the only virgin I’ve fucked. You have the best pussy ever.”

Eren lifts his head, flashing you his perfect teeth as he smiles. He leans back, pulling out of you and turning you onto your stomach.

“Now ass up, pretty. We’re no where near done.” He grabs you by the hips and lifts them, pushing your front down. “And while you’re at it, let’s take this off.”

He reached for your hand and removes your purity ring, setting it on the nightstand.

—

The following Monday when you’d see him on campus he’s talking to Jean, fidgeting with a silver chain he’s wearing.

When he meets your gaze you smile and wave, finding yourself walking closer to him.

His lips curl up into a devious grin, and as you get closer you can see the object on his necklace more clearly. You aren’t entirely sure what it is until he holds it up, almost showing it off to Jean.

It’s your purity ring, being paraded around on his neck.

honestly have no clue what this is but I’m not rereading sorry

also this was my first smut work to let me know what y’all think of it

as always i hope y’all enjoyed. likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

-Izzy <3

[stoutguts]

headcanon rambling/my personal hc for Johnny's backstory bc I think it'd be interesting also I like the idea of Ghoap where the both of them had a shitty childhood bc of an abusive parent and the both of of them hv trauma/I love angst 💕

CW: drug add\ction, s*lf-h*rm/s*icide, parental/child abvse

Soap was born into a big family in the Scottish countryside, being the youngest with 6 older sisters. His father was a deadbeat, and walked out on him at a young age, being effectively raised by his mom and big sisters. Having strong female influences on his life benefited him greatly in the long run, he grew up to be a very well-adjusted, kind, and respectful man (particularly towards women, as he is a staunch feminist (you go Johnny).

However, on the other hand the only true parental figure in his life, his mother, was a horrible person. She was mentally and emotionally abusive, as well as unstable. She would even get physical with her children at times, including Soap. Johnny was also raised Roman Catholic, though today he considers himself agnostic or a flat out atheist. His mother was incredibly homophobic and transphobic and would use religion to justify her bigotry towards him, leading Soap to hating himself and struggling with self-harm and suicidal ideation for years. Particularly, by cutting himself (he has s/h scars all over his thighs, arms, and shoulders). Has attempted at least 10+ times in the past. Not to mention, he did a lot of hard drugs during his middle and high school years to cope with his mother's abuse. (Particularly coke and heroin). He's come incredibly close to ODing on a few occasions. An addict and a total mess, until his sisters intervened and forced him against his will into rehab.

After 2 or so years he was clean and eligible for the military.

He still relapses from time to time (whether it's self-harm or drugs), and when he does its bad. He even still regularly smokes weed to this day, though it's not nearly as bad as some other substances. It's a wonder he hasn't been discharged, probably because he's too much of an asset.

Ghost is the one to bring him out of his slumps now. Not minding one bit, as all Simon cares about is Johnny's safety and well-being.

Needless to say, he could never see religion in the same light after that. He’s even quite apprehensive and wary of people whom are religious and religion in general.

He and his mother were never close and soon would never get along with each other, as he’s proud and not the type to even tolerate shit from anyone. It was an almost daily occurrence that he and his mom would fight, particularly when he finally reached his pre-teen/teen years, sometimes evolving into full-blown screaming matches.

Being the protective type of person that he is, most of the time he’d get into fights because of his sisters coming to him about how mom had hit them or made them cry (despite the fact he feels nothing but pure hatred for his mum, he has a very deep bond/connection to each and everyone of his sisters and loves them all dearly).

That was what pissed him off more than anything.

His mom could do whatever she wanted with him, frankly he stopped caring and her cutting words no longer held any weight or meaning to him at some point, and being hit was soon the equivalent to getting bit by a mosquito, he became numb. He didn't know when he stopped feeling, but he did. (He of course wasn't entirely immune, she'd eventually break him). But he was determined to stay strong for his siblings.

Bringing harm upon his sisters? No way in hell that was ever gonna fly, and he didn't care if she was his mother or not.

Johnny naturally grew to resent his mother, and to this day he still calls her a “witch” or a "cunt" instead of his mum. Eventually he’d had enough and couldn’t take his mother’s abuse any longer, (she is half of the reason he went into the military as soon as he possibly could, besides it being a lifelong and childhood dream of his).

He kept in touch with his sisters (and still does), of course, calls them everyday or whenever he gets the chance to let them know he’s alive and well and to see how their doing. Visits when he can or when he’s off duty. Though he completely cut ties with his mother after joining the military,—a couple of his sisters would keep him posted on what was going on with her.

Later on, his mother went to go on to be diagnosed with terminal cancer, and passed shortly thereafter.

He attended the funeral up in Scotland, but mainly for his sisters’ sakes. He actually ended up staying in Scotland for a while after that to provide support for his sisters, (emotional or otherwise), and to try to ease the grieving process. Even though she wasn’t the greatest mom or person in general, it was still a tough loss. Though Soap still didn’t regret cutting her out of his life,—it was fucked up but he was glad that she died in a way, and even visited her grave just once after the funeral, by himself, just so he could spit on it. Maybe even say some things he never was able to say to her, half as retribution and half to just get it off his chest.

Ghost is the only one who knows of Johnny's past and his abusive mother, and is incredibly understanding and gentle about it (as naturally it's a particularly touchy subject). On all official stuff regarding his background, the most it ever details is where he was born or that he was raised Roman Catholic. Not to mention, although Soap is a yapper and almost never shuts up, he’s a very private person and just simply doesn’t like others knowing his business (with the exception of Ghost of course).

Even though Johnny didn’t let his mother’s death bother him regarding the funeral and his prolonged visit to Scotland, when he got back he broke down completely.

He stayed strong for his sisters as he felt like he had to and just as he's always done, but the facade came crashing down once he was in Simon's arms again.

He hated his mum, she didn't really deserve his tears, yet she was still his mum. That fact still reigned true even after everything.

And Ghost was there by his side the whole time. Hell, if anyone knows what it's like to lose a family member, it's Simon "Ghost" Riley. Whether they be toxic or not. Simon's heart positively ached for Soap, and they couldn't help but get all misty eyed at Johnny's pure, unbridled grief.

Ghost had never felt so sorry for anyone in his life, and Soap was eternally grateful for Simon's patience, empathy, and it consoling him to the best of their ability. 💖

DADDY ISSUES GHOST AND MOMMY ISSUES SOAP MY BELOVED(S)

[kitspindles]

I’m in no way bashing on people who have already finished TSatS and say they hate it, are disappointed, etc., because I myself have not gone past chapter seven. My friend let me read some today, but I won’t have my own copy until Thursday, so maybe my opinions will change. I will say, however, that if you read 400+ pages in less than a day, maybe give yourself some time to process the entire plot first?

In any case, I can’t help but wonder how many people went into this book expecting one version of Nico and Will, only to be hit with something else entirely. And I mean like... expecting the fandom’s versions of these two, rather than what canon has previously shown us up until this book.

It’s my personal opinion that the PJO fandom’s worse enemy is their own mischaracterization of the characters at times. And I don’t mean like little head canons and stuff. Everyone has done those at some point. There’s usually no harm in those. I’m talking about people who created their own versions of Nico and Will and have been running with these visions for years through different fan fictions and what-not online.

For years we’ve known basically nothing about Will aside from the fact that he’s sarcastic, likes Star Wars, his mom is a country singer, he can glow in the dark, and he’s better at healing than fighting. (And he has questionable fashion choice at times). Like, that’s all we’ve had since his initial introduction in The Last Olympian over a decade ago. Everything else? Online and fan speculation. And again, there is nothing wrong with that! I just feel like a lot of people went into this book holding onto their own pre-conceived visions of what Will Solace was and ended up disappointed the authors made him... different? But not really different, because he didn’t have a lot of in-depth personality or backstory before this.

Me personally? Yeah, I’m not that far into the book yet but I’m loving how Will is portrayed so far. He’s still sarcastic, but he’s shown his fair share of level-headedness as well as frustrations just within the first couple chapters. He is in no way the overly-optimistic sunshine-y boy who only exists to help Nico that the fandom has portrayed him to be all these years. His character arc is already headed in a way deeper direction (more on that when I finish the book). The whole bit where Will had coffee spilled on him and spent the next couple paragraphs in the scene trying to be unbothered while actually giving off “This is fine” fire dog energies? I loved that.

As for Nico, can I just say I adore how he’s written in this book? Aside from his PoV in Blood of Olympus, this is the first time he’s had his own narration. And it’s actually about him and more in-depth than previous times. I’ve heard people say that he’s “out of character,” and while I can see a little of what they’re all saying, I just want to know... what version of Nico have you all been reading? Did I miss something?

Up until this book, what exactly did we know about Nico? That he’s displaced in time, his sister and mother are both dead (and he feels alone), he harbored repressed gay feelings from his upbringing as a Catholic guy in 1940s Italy, and he’s been through the ringer more than once (so, trauma, basically). Oh, and he’s a bit of a nerd (Mythomagic and knowing all kinds of ancient creatures). That’s... about it. Everything has been speculation and projection from fans.

In previous books he’s always been portrayed from first- or third-person point of view (usually from people who don’t know him well and just think he’s “creepy”), leading to the idea that he’s distant and low-empathy based on some interactions he’s had with demigods who weren’t thrilled to be around him, during a time of great pressure. But he’s not exactly uncaring. He’s been shown to care a lot, actually (Bianca, Hestia, Bob, everything he’s done for Percy, his friendship with Reyna, Hazel, etc.)

But what about when he was ten? He was an excitable, curious kid who liked to have fun. And what did we see briefly in Trials of Apollo (before Jason died, at least)? We saw some of that energy return, particularly in The Hidden Oracle.

So, yeah, I’m personally thrilled to see him making cringe-y jokes and have some self-deprecating humor. It’s very “#OnBrand” for a traumatized teenager who’s just trying to cope and live life without any godly wars forcing him this way and that. Can we really say it’s “out of character” if we’ve never seen more than one side of Nico? (The under pressure side, from other character’s PoVs, in books not about him where he’s basically been a side character?) I’m just glad to see him cracking jokes, laughing, and acting more like a normal kid.

Now, is this book different from Rick’s other ones? Uh, yeah. I won’t say it’s not. But it’s not bad. It’s supposed to be different. It has slightly different intentions than the other books (re: explicitly working through trauma and relationship bumps). Also, it’s co-written. Co-written books always read slightly off from the original author’s work, but dam if it isn’t hard to meld writing styles and copy another author’s particular voice. But I think Mark did a very good job at imitating Rick’s style (again, from what I’ve read so far).

Will I change my mind on all this the farther I get into the book? Maybe. There’s a lot to read and take in. All I’m saying is don’t let the negative reviews warp your opinion of the book if you haven’t read it yet and are on the fence if you should or not. Wait for the PDF to drop, or for a library copy, and read and see for yourself.

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 4 MATCH 14

Lae'zel propaganda:

“Every single Baldur’s Gate companion is deeply lovable and romanceable but listen. Lae’zel is so strong and cool and powerful. She thinks you’re sexy faster than anyone else. She’s a gruff, standoffish character who you can win over. She’s so talented. She’s even an alien. Look at her pretty ears and war paint. Date Lae’zel.”

Seteth propaganda:

“Mmm green dilf”

“Now he may just seem like a typical vice principal at catholic school for war criminals. But in reality he’s way more than that. He is really nice, and at sometimes overprotective over his daughter Flayn but he has a good reason for it. But in supports with other students he serves as a father figure to a bunch of traumatized teens. While being a traumatized dad himself. You may ask “how is he dateable?” Well Dilf. A man who’s a good dad is a man you can trust. And he enjoys writing stories too.”

"The man literally looks at your character, who has been continually manipulated by almost everyone around them and had absolutely zero control over the course their life has taken and in his A support scene says "where I go and what I do will depend wholly on you" and "our future is yours to determine" AND HE MEANS IT and for a person who has so so little control over their whole life it just really hits home how much he cares about them to let them drive their own future. Like this man is willing to turn his back on his own family member for them after he learns how much said family member has manipulated the MC's life and I just 🤌🤌🤌 we love someone willing to stand up to their own toxic family members and tell them that what they've done is wrong

And when he proposes he says "But there is one thing I want to make sure you understand beyond any doubt… I am not proposing to you out of a sense of duty, nor a desire to perpetuate our bloodline. I want this because I am in love with you. I cannot conceive of a world without you in it." (because he and the MC are two of the last remaining people of their species, which was a part of the manipulation from his family member, so he just continues to reassure the MC that he just wants them not what they could give him) AND I JUST LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH IT'S SO IMPORTANT TO HIM THAT THE MC KNOWS EXACTLY HOW HE FEELS AND WHY AND HE'S NEVER HAD ULTERIOR MOTIVES TO GETTING TO KNOW THEM UNLIKE LITERALLY ALMOST EVERYONE ELSE IN THEIR LIFE 😭😭😭"