#that insane as hell grieving mother.....

[miralain]

Listen.....I can't wait for Madeleine in season 2 ngl....

[siltyriver]

thought about David Wymack for too long and now I’m emotionally compromised in a Walmart parking lot

[cypher-writer]

Yandere Emperor ✷

Male!Emperor x GN!Emperor!reader

Reader/Y/N refered to as They/Them but also as Emperor

Warnings: not very detailed gore, swearing, blackmail, manipulation, depictions of self harm (hair tugging from reader), yandere themes

Y/N is "insane/crazy"/mentally ill (Y/N is not in the right headspace throughout this entire story. They have multiple violent thoughts and outbursts and similar symptoms that could warrant in mental illnesses such as IED, BPD, PTSD or ASPD ((I am not a mental health professional)). If you have thoughts such as these depicted in the story try to reach out and talk to someone about your experiences and search for help! This story is not a diagnosis or confirmation that you have these mental illnesses either as these symptoms can be common in 'normal' life as well. Consult a professional for genuine concerns.)

Word count: 3.3k

There are books written of the unbelievable and inspiring rise of the L/N empire.

The way it was starting to diminish after it fell in the hands of your fathers rule and how every other land was already eyeing up the land you've harbored after many centuries of growing.

You remember sitting on a chair in the ballroom as your father swindled other women right in front of your eyes, partying as if everything's alright while you watched and could only count the days till some foreign kingdom wagered war and took over everything you held dear. The days were nigh, you knew it. But back then all you could do is sip tea and keep face.

Your poor mother had it the worst, gosh, you love her so. She was the best mother you could ask for and more. She spent her entire life caring and doting on you, raising you to be your very best self. You learnt from her and looked up to her. Something you wouldn't ever even think of doing to your father.

It was even worse knowing that that excuse of a blood relative would woo other women even if your mother was in the vicinity. You hated him. You hated him so much there isn't a word that could describe how much you truly loathed him, how much you wanted to strangle him every night for putting anyone in such pain.

In his eyes, it was fine, he was emperor after all, no?

That title he took for granted so easily was ripped away from him just the same. The same way his heart was ripped out and left beside his empty beer jug in a bloody mess that one night after he got too drunk to stumble back into his bedroom, landing in the gardens and perishing somewhere in the dusk. Truly devastating how the murderer was never caught.

The title would have then fallen momentarily onto your mother, but she took a bit of a mental hit from her husbands death (even if he was cruel) and just couldn't rule while grieving at the same time. There was an uproar of doubts from the townsfolk as they panicked of who would take care of their land next? You wondered the same, till everyone's eyes landed on you.

You, back then a teenager who did not plan to take over so early, but didn't mind in the end anyways.

You took the reigns as fast as possible and finally fixed what your father was too 'busy' to care about mending, upgrading the army, listening to the people's pleas and of course, continuing to progress in the growth of your empire, spreading further and further.

In no time you were known as a crazy tyrant, taking risks that have never been even thought of that before. Although, that wasn't the crazy part of 'crazy tyrant', no, the crazy part was that it all actually worked. Every chance was in your favor, somehow. You didn't know why either, but to be fair you did not care. If good luck was on your side you did not wish to bother it with endless questions.

The tyrant part was mostly a fancy noun to add onto the crazy. You weren't a cruel leader to your people, you cared for each one and took real responsibility in everything you had to he involved in, but you sure as hell were cruel in war. You didn't hold back, you didn't second guess. You took your sword and used the mastery of your hand to gain back the land that should have been yours already.

Emperor L/N, that was you. It was your title. It was your Empire, the biggest in the Fucking world.

And it might have gotten into your head a bit. Not as much as your father, but enough to make you crave the taste of another battle, the sound of swords clashing and the smell of blood. It made you giggle with only an itsy bitsy bit of insanity, nothing too dire, nothing your mother couldn't scold you back into a clear mind for.

Truly, it didn't matter how crazy you were on the battle field or what edgy names the people outside gave you, what mattered was that you were successful and could handle your temper just enough. And you could.

...

Till that bastard came into picture. Little Emperor Kingsley. The Nepo baby of the millennia. He was the golden child in everyone's eyes, the angel of our poor, unpure world. He had everyone around his finger, it was fucking ridiculous, really.

He grew up being perfect, so much so that his people thought he was some sort of Christ. He was worshiped. He was loved. And when he reached of minimum age, he was crowned emperor. Why? Because the people— and not just the townsfolk or anyone like that, multiple, whole empires— believed he would grace everyone with his touch and make the entirety of this shity world virtuous and moral again.

But when that letter came to your throne, that elegant writing stating:

"Dear L/N,

It is with the upmost kindness and hope that we ask you to join the newly forming union of 'aureum annum' —the golden year— to aid us in-"

You didn't read the rest as you ripped the letter up and told one of your servants to throw the shredded pieces into any furnace or campfire. You had your experiences with people who think too highly of themselves. And you don't want to meddle yourself in those affairs again. So, with your own better judgement you decided to just never respond. They should get the hint.

And it seemed for a little that they did... Till Kingsley informed that he wishes to visit and talk to you about Aureum annum. You scoffed, rolled your eyes, groaned and sighed as you held back to tearing this note up as well. Your mother strongly advised you to at least talk to them, what's the worst that could happen?

So much.

With annoyance and another eye roll, you replied with a sugarcoated reply:

'Dear Emperor Kingsley,

Why yes! Come in! Why don't you come here and let me tell you in person how much I want to shove that shit eating good for nothing perfection of yours up your a-'

yeah, in conclusion you were not happy and your mother wrote the letter instead.

You counted the days until the foreboding meeting, exhaling in irritation when you realize that, unfortunately, time will not freeze and delay the eventual rendezvous. The only thing you could do is slump slightly as you kept your mind distracted by training with your trusted and iconic sword.

You really don't have a good feeling about this. You really don't.

"Today's the day." Your mother's soft words broke the silence, her hands trailing over any creased surface of your fine clothing, smoothing them out and making sure they're up to making the best impression they could. You couldn't help but chuckle at your mother's worry, trying to hide it under her facade of cleanliness.

"Mother, something tells me you're more worried about this meeting than I am." You looked down at her, trying to comfort her with a gentle smile. She retracted her hands and clasped them before her chest, sighing as her gaze lifted to yours. "I only wish this meeting goes well and doesn't end in violence, Y/N."

Your mother has strict opinions on warfare and things alike that not even god could change: unnecessary and disposable. You respected them, but couldn't help the thrill victory gave you.

You placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to ease her thoughts. "I promise to be on my best behavior, I don't want this to end in anything bad either." You did your best to reassure her that you'd play nice, pretend to be kind and not what everyone assumes you are. Are you?

She reciprocated with the same feather-light smile as her hand traveled to the side of your face, eyes proud yet almost sad. They were like that since your fathers death, you can't blame her. You never can, you never would. You just wanted to make her happy and to take her out of the constant mild pain she's in; never too big to care, but not too small to ever ignore.

"You best go now, dear." She spoke, turning away. "It's best to be there early to greet the guest."

You watched her leave and huffed. You truly don't know how this will go. You don't know much about Kingsley even if there's countless praise on him in multiple books and stories. Because that's all it is, praise. Praise isn't the truth, even if it holds some real significance. When people describe you, they'd say you were a victorious monarch with a skilled swing, but you're also crazy and cruel in battle. Your flaws spilled like ink over every page. Kingsley, there was not a single bad word you could find in the thousands of words he was talked about in. He's not human if there's nothing bad about it. Do they really want you to believe he's never had a single bad thought in his life? Not a single flaw? Inhuman, that's what he is.

Walking down the halls of your huge castle gave you time to think over how you'll act. Should you shake his hand? Should you bow? Should you just glare? A frustrated humm left your throat as you made a turn to head towards the grand entrance of the palace. Should you put up an act or just be casual? He's definitely heard of you so it'd be much more suspicious if you were suddenly this sinless soul. Might as well just blend you personality with whatever his was. A balance of good and… yourself.

You suddenly realised you were at the main gates, standing next to the guards and servants that have come early as well, making sure to impress Emperor Kingsley with their service and punctuality.

"Are you ready, my Majesty?" Your personal servant stepped to your side, one arm bent behind his back as the other was fixed in front, a white napkin draped over it. You scorned and nodded. "As ready as I can be for mr. Perfect, I guess." Your butler only replied with a smile before resuming looking forwards, his back straightened. You mimicked his posture after realising that you were slumped over.

"They're arriving!" You heard a distant shout, presumably one of the guards that inspect the people entering your empire. You inhaled deeply, keeping the breath in as you saw the grand carriage move towards you and the group of people surrounding you. An unexplainable anger surged through you for no reason before disappearing as the barouche halted. The driver who once reigned the horses stepped off, chin high as he maneuvered to open the little door facing you. You stared as it was opened and a cloaked figure step close. You were quick to come close and offer a hand of help which the person accepted with a smile, making an exit out of the carriage with your assist.

"Emperor Kingsley." You greeted, bowing slightly, guessing that it's the most appropriate action in the moment, also making sure that your tone was sweet.

"Emperor L/N." Kingsley returned, bowing the same way. You noted his elegant clothing; gold and white tones complementing each other with its intricate embroidery, details that one would appreciate. You bet each stitch was sewn in with precision you could not care for, it was futile if it was gonna get ripped out in battle. But Kingsley did not engage in battle. You did wonder why he was cloaked, you could barely make out his face, only the lower part of it. Makeup was delicately painted on his face from what you could see, his lips having a slight golden shimmer to them and his cheeks having some sort of design on them. From the sides, blonde hair poked out, silky and smooth. You can see why people called him an angel, but was he really one or was it just an act?

Moments later, you found yourself leading Kingsley towards a room specifically prepared for you to talk about whatever he was here for. Pulling a cushioned and royal looking chair for him to sit on before going to the other side of the rectangular, short table to sit yourself.

"Well then,-" You spoke first, wanting to seem engaged even though you wanted him to leave as quickly as possible. What if he was here with mal intent? What if he wanted to murder you, or worse your mother? "-I suspect you have matters which you wish to discuss with me."

Kingsley nodded, finally taking off the hood. Grey eyes peered into yours, almost looking right through you. "Yes, Indeed I do."

His voice was soft like butter, smooth and calm. "I wish to talk about aureum annum. Specifically the event of your rejection to join."

Ah, you guessed this was about that. You couldn't avoid it any longer. But in all fairness, you thought they didn't have the courage to come up to you, especially not when you have the all too known title of 'Crazy Tyrant'.

"Oh, yes. Well, I am sure you have great and ingenious plans for the union but I prefer to rule over my empire without the need to talk to others and see how it affects them." You explained with the most docile voice you could snatch out of yourself, you shouldn't need to explain why you don't want to join. You just don't want to, end of story. "And I have already so much to worry and pay attention to that I fear having more responsibility might break me." You joked, earning a small chuckle from the man opposite of you.

"That is understandable." He hummed, nodding. "I should have guessed that a ruler like you would already have a lot on your shoulders. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, hm?"

You smiled, confirming this kind-heartedly.

"Though it'd be a shame if somebody found out about the true cause of your fathers death.."

What did he just say? are you mishearing?

"…What?"

He smiled. It wasn't kind or angelic, it was sinister, knowing, threatening.

"I know what really went down that day of your fathers unfortunate death, perhaps I should jog the memory, hm?"

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, dread overtaking you. But along the dread, anger started boiling inside your chest, burning at your heart. He couldn't know. How could he?

"You hated him didn't you? You absolutely loathed him. You couldn't handle the way he was neglecting his kingdom and going of drinking with other ladies." You couldn't hold back the scowl that etched onto your face as you listened to every honeyed word he would say, gripping the dagger you've attached under the table for emergencies.

"So, that one day, you decided that it was over with him. You lured his intoxicated self to the gardens and carved his heart out, ruining the inside of his body with that sharp sword you can't seem to let go these days, leaving him gargling and pleading for mercy. Of course, you were too far gone to hear them, weren't you."

You stood suddenly, fists slamming on the table, violence flooding your mind that you somehow held back by not strangling the last breath out of him and hanging his head above your fireplace. "Shut up! Shut-"

"You were scared afterwards. At least you convinced yourself to be, you didn't feel guilt or sadness, pain or remorse. No, you forced yourself to feel the ghost of them because your mother took the blow of the emotional damage." He continued to speak. His once butter smooth voice turned to that alike of a fork scratching a plate, or a grater trying to shred metal. Your hands went to your hair, tugging at the ends harshly, you grunted at the pain that failed to ground you.

"Y-you bastard! You sick fuck!" You shouted, closing your eyes for just a moment, only opening them when another pair of hands enveloped yours and forced them out of your locks. You looked up to see Kingsley, glaring down at you. "Stop that." He said sternly.

You grunted angrily as you shoved him away from you, breath uncontrollable and out of rhythm, eyes glazed over and threatening to fall. "Get away from me! What makes you think that just because you're some worshipped little cunt you can walk in here and say that stuff to me!" You shouted at him, pointing a finger at him. "I'll have you fucking murdered! I'll let your parents watch as I behead-"

"You think that'll work out for you in the end?" His voice returned to that irritatingly calm sound. "The kingdoms that have joined my union will cause an uproar and potentially wager war on you… Think about your mother, how would she react?"

She'd be devastated. She would cry and beg for you to resolve this like adult humans and not animals, she can't go through such an even again, knowing you might not come back that one time after riding off on your horse into battle. One day that sword will have your blood on it. And she would snap, break and then in the end whittle away into a shell of what she once was. That's how she would react.

"What do you want from me." You demand, hands falling to your sides and your shoulders tensing up as you made direct eye contact with Kingsley. He smiled, hands joining behind his back.

"All I want is for you to join the aureum annum…" He replied, an innocent grin on his face. "And I want to take your hand in marriage, Y/N."

Was he being serious? You could understand the aureum annum thing but marriage? Why does he want to marry you? To control you, to diminish whatever power you have and use it all for himself? No way, not again.

"You're joking." You scoffed, truly not believing his words.

"I'm not." His voice dropped and the genuinity of it frightened you, making your hands tremble in anger. "well then, dream on. You're more insane than me if you think I'd ever agree to your idiotic terms."

"Then I guess you also don't care if the news of how your father was murdered spread, right? I mean, I'm sure that you don't actually care what others think but what about dear mother?"

There he is using the 'think about your mother' card again. You hated how it worked. You hated how you know she wouldn't look at you the same. Would she loathe you the same way you loathed your father? would she refuse to acknowledge that you're her child?

You glared at him, thinking of a loophole or a way to wriggle out of this situation but none came to mind, especially not when it was clouded with fear and rage. You were huffing and puffing, breath too heavy to ease. "OH fine! But utter a word about this to anyone and I swear I'll call god herself to help me slay you!" You took hold of his collar, pulling you towards him. He was as nonchalant and as calm as ever. You wanted to murder him so bad right now, but the terrified face of your mother kept invading your mind.

Kingsley was no angel, he was no god. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing; a demon with clip-on angel wings that he so kindly decided to take off in front of you. He was your demon.

"As you wish, my dear.."

This might get a part 2 if anyone asks for one, but for now this is just this :) If I made any mistakes in the story pls tell me because I am not a native english speaker! I also accept asks and requests so don't be afraid to ask anything :P have a great morning/day/afternoon/night <3 -Writer/Cypher

[metalbvcky]

There's No Cure for Love — A Stucky Medical AU with doctor Steve + patient Bucky

The hospital is Steve's life. He practically lives here, day in and day out. It's what he does best. Help people. Save people. Try to make a difference in someone else's world even when his own has been slowly crumbling. His Ma's health was declining, though things seemed to have stabilized for now. The entire reason Steve changed specialties all those years ago was because of his Ma's illness. Not because of the organized chaos of the ER, but the reality that an ER doctor like himself could not focus properly while grieving over a dying loved one. And well, there was something to be said about slower-paced work. "I have this patient," Steve tells his mother while nursing a weak vending machine coffee, relaxing in a rocking chair on the porch of the assisted living home. "Bucky."

Bucky hates his life. He hates switching majors. He hates the fact he hasn't kissed another boy. He hates the insanely large mansion he lives in. He hates his family— his mother's heavy involvement in politics, his father's billion-dollar real estate empire. his two out of three sisters for bending over their father's will. He hates everything.

But most importantly, he hates whatever the fuck illness or disease he seems to have been born with. He's gone through countless tests, treatments, and procedures throughout his entire life. Hospitals and clinics are his personal hell. Nurses don't understand. Doctors don't care. He's broken.

"They don’t believe me," Bucky says with a forlorn sigh. "No one ever does."

"I do."

BBE BABB | May: Hurt/Comfort @buckybarnesevents BBE Juneiverse | Medical Stucky Bingo | O1: AU Medical Setting @stuckybingo

♥ this is an upcoming multi-chap WIP— I have not started it quite yet (currently finishing up my last WIP) but posting will be TBD sometime later this year ♥

[atopvisenyashill]

Please tell me more of your thoughts on maegelle, maybe it’s cause I’m new to the Fire and Blood side of the fandom but I’ve never seen anything deeper about her maybe being negative. Especially in regards to her mother/family. I’m quickly becoming Saera girlie and I wonder if Magelle’s role in the church might’ve contributed to her sister’s “”rehabilitation”” being bad enough to have her leave the continent.

Okay so the thing here is that she does to Alysanne what Jaehaerys does to Alyssa, which is force/cajole their mother into taking back and living with a man who has publicly humiliated her and made incredibly clear he has no respect for her, but we only really whack Jaehaerys for this. The first quarrel is more personally egregious to me because it's only Alysanne who must bite her tongue here and not Jaehaerys - she is not asking for anything extreme here! Her daughter committed the heinous crime of fucking before marriage, it's been like three years, and three of their daughters have subsequently died, but he hasn't calmed down at all about Saera. Alysanne even tries to compromise by just asking to fly to Lys to visit her and he forbids her from seeing her own fucking daughter. That's an insane level of abuse. And what does Maegelle do? Well she tells her parents that they need to keep up appearances and be seen in public together. Reminds me a lot of show alicent's "you may slap him about as you like at home but out in public we must be united" comment - essentially, Maegelle is telling Alysanne she has to cope with being barred from seeing her daughter and grieving her losses properly to keep up appearances. I mean fuck, maybe Alysanne genuinely wanted a divorce from Jaehaerys. Maybe at that point she was so distraught she wanted Jaehaerys to take a lover, and replace her, and leave her the hell alone so she could be with Gael or otherwise just go to Lys anyways. But Maegelle puts a stop to all of this by invoking Rhaenys' wedding and how they need to look united. Ghastly behavior.

BUT THEN. Less than two years later, Aemon dies and Jaehaerys names Baelon heir. And look, Alysanne is 100% right to be pissed the fuck off at Jaehaerys for naming Baelon - from our several comments about Rhaenys being called "our future queen", the fact that Aemon and Jocelyn never have any other kids, I think the fact that Rhaenys has a dragon as well, all of that makes very clear that everyone is sort of expecting Rhaenys to carry on the Targaryen line in some form or another. Beyond that, Jaehaerys knows damn well that Alysanne has historically been touchy about this - see her comments about little Daenerys. Jaehaerys, with this move, makes it clear that he had never planned for Rhaenys to be queen at all and was misleading everyone. This one is on par with Rogar's nonsense imo because it's so public and everyone knows how Alysanne feels about the succession. He doesn't talk it over with her after she's lost a son btw, he just announces it and takes everyone by surprise.

AND THEN ONCE AGAIN. HERE COMES MAEGELLE. "mom just get over it." And again, what does Jaehaerys give up here? Nothing. He's either sending Maegelle or he's just straight up leaving Alysanne alone and assuming she'll come back to him? It's just nasty. She's losing the ability to walk, to ride her dragon, to remember people's names, she's barred from seeing Saera, she's got a daughter the age of her grandchildren because Jaehaerys forced her to have another child, and she's not even allowed to just spend her last years on Dragonstone being left to age with what dignity she has left. No, she has to be at court, she has to be by her husband's side, because That's Her Place. It's just as smug, just as cruel as Jaehaerys forcing Alyssa to Rogar's side - and the cruelty, in my opinion, is the point here. "You made your bed now lie in it" type behavior, towards a woman who has just been publicly disrespected, who is grieving her dead children.

So anyways, do I believe Maegelle was just as viciously cruel to Saera and that's part of why Saera ran away? I can absolutely believe that yes. I think we see that a lot with Septas to be honest - women who get a thrill out of torturing other women who don't conform properly. Mordane actively eggs on the gap between Arya and Sansa until it becomes a gaping chasm, Moelle and Unella are happy to take orders that involve them sexually humiliating Margaery, her cousins, and Cersei and take a sort of sick glee out of doing it, so I don't think it's exactly far off to say Maegelle had a cruel streak in her that came out when it came to the women in her family not conforming properly. I think we can also take into account George's general distate for religion and Catholocism specifically and the way the Septas work as nuns, and the way nuns were like, insane at various catholic schools. I think there's an interesting play here right - that Jaehaerys can look a mother who put her own life on the line to make him king and hand her right back to the husband who hates her to die having his kids, because he's being vindictive and cruel about her having the audacity to remarry without his permission, and Maegelle looking the mother who has ruled capably and given her the space to be what she wanted to be, and hand her right back to the husband who clearly has no respect for her whatsoever, because she's cruel and believes a woman is not allowed to have differing opinions from the man who currently owns her. It doesn't matter what Alyssa or Alysanne personally did for the two of them; they're women, and they have no right to disagree with the men around them.

[bluecookies02]

When words fail me, kiss the secrets off my lips-[trans!levi x reader]

summary:

"Can you promise me something then?”. “When you do leave. You will not tell a soul.”

Levi kisses you, similarly to how he did the first time. Clumsily and stiff. And then he melts against you.

He doesn't regret kissing you. He refuses to regret it.

He will not regret it once you rip yourself away from him in disgust, fumbling for your things and slamming his door shut. He will not regret it once he has to transfer you to a different squad and after that, he won't regret never speaking to you again.

//or//

Levi's mother had to do whatever she thought was best for his survival underground. He's 34 now and he has been keeping a secret for as long he can remember.

Can he let himself trust someone to keep it? Just this once.

cw: Angst with a Happy Ending, Scissoring, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Virgin Levi

word count: 5.5k

Roughly thirty years ago, Kuchel, an underground prostitute had a child. In the secrecy of her run-down hotel room, she gave birth all alone.

Bringing a child into this world and surrounding it with filth and violence was not something she wished for.

She grieved the life her child could've had, if only she was born somewhere else.

If only this beautiful kid in her bloody arms was blessed enough to be born by someone else, someone who could give this child the life where it would not know hunger, fear, and desperation of the underground city from the moment it opened its eyes.

The child was tiny, awfully malnourished, yet its hands gripped tightly onto her pinky finger as she carried them both to the bathroom. She vowed to sacrifice everything for it the moment its beautiful eyes sparked up at her and its cries of life reached her ears. She promised to love this child, even if its conception came from anything but.

______________

Levi’s earliest memories of his mother consist of gentle touches and soft and shaky lullabies she would sing after a client would leave the hotel, throwing a pathetic amount of cash on the floor for her to gather up on her knees.

Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter. Levi was raised as a boy.

Today, there is only one living person that carries this secret.

It was the first thing Kuchel would have to do in order to protect her kid. Not only to keep it safer while it grew up but for the fear that her daughter would end up following in her footsteps, meeting the same hell she was soon to endure.

It served Levi well in the great scheme of things.

He had to adapt to being alone, putting on a cold facade so that nobody came close enough to uncover what his mother gave her life to keep hidden.

Repulsed by touch due to his upbringing made it easier, the desire to be close to people buried deep under years of cries and screams of horror he had to listen to in his earliest years of life. Some came from his own mother, others from women alike. They were everywhere, no matter what corner of the underground you hid in, someone, somewhere was desperately trying to get prying hands off of them.

______________

Adapting to life in the scouts took years.

Not reacting violently to a friendly pat on the back required hard work on his end. Those who hadn't seen him in his first days outside still think he's a savage when he brushes hands off his shoulders or creates space between himself and cheering groups after an expedition.

There were a handful of moments when the desire to hug someone was almost unbearable, an impulse that made him sick to his stomach and his knees weak.

His friends, comrades, the man who raised him. All of which happened when the life inside their eyes seemed to completely fade and they were too weak or too far gone to hug him back.

‘Living a life with no regrets’ is a drive people with too many of them under their belt choose as a last resort.

A human mind is not strong enough to hold onto all of them and stay sane, so naturally at one point, either you let your regrets pull you down into pits of insanity, or you create a delusion to follow in order to keep the weight on your soul that much lighter.

____________

“‘Vi? Are you alright?” your voice snaps Levi out of his thoughts. The bottom of his teacup comes into view as he regains his focus.

He hums, looking up at you, spread out on his couch, peeking over your book with a concerned look on your face.

It's been roughly a year and a half since Levi fell in love for the first time in his life, at the late age of 33. A year of which he spent trying to crush that feeling any way he possibly could.

You sitting there, freely and unafraid like you own the space he lives in, proves that his efforts were futile.

Seven months ago, after an expedition, Levi hugged you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs, almost landing both of you on the ground. It progressed slowly from there.

Not only was the progress agonizingly slow, but it was also terribly rocky. Screaming matches, cold shoulders, silent treatments, venomous words flying off of both of your tongues before one of you inevitably admits defeat and knocks on the other's door in the middle of the night.

Levi's ego won't let him admit that 80% of the time it was him crawling to you. He felt like he couldn't breathe if he was not on good terms with you. It would eat him out during his naturally sleepless nights until he went mad with the desire to fix it. Bless his soul he never knew how to.

He would often show up at your door, both words and actions failing him the second you let him into your room.

You understood though.

His intentions were always clear as day to you. You often said how you could easily figure out what he was thinking from his eyes alone.

“I'm fine, read your stupid romance junk” his response earned him a huff and a smile. Then there's silence.

Silence compels him to fill the space with words.

It would be much easier if you were to try and force him to talk, then he could quickly get you both on his familiar ground.

Fighting.

You know better by now.

“I'm sorry about this morning” he speaks up, looking back down at his paperwork.

He's met with silence again. He knows that it's not for your lack of forgiveness, you being here is obvious proof of that.

It's you, creating more space for him to talk.

You close your book, sitting up, patiently waiting.

Levi fell in love a year and a half ago.

Levi hugged you for the first time seven months ago.

Levi let you hold his hand for the first time four months ago.

Levi kissed you for the first time a month ago.

Thirty-four years ago, Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter.

Levi is still the only living person to know this.

_____________

The first kiss you shared was terrible. It was still the best thing Levi felt up until that point in his life.

You weren't stupid. He didn't need to tell you that he had no idea what he was doing, it was more than obvious with the way he moved against your mouth, equally clumsy and stiff at the same time. Judging by that, it was also not a secret that he never slept with anyone either.

Kissing you sends shivers down his spine and makes his fingers itch to touch you, mind going fuzzy whenever you deepen the kiss with gentle hands on his cheek or around his neck.

Everything was moving too fast. He dreaded the moment when he would have to confront this.

There were admittedly a few options.

Lie, be truthful, or simply… push you away and cherish what little he had with you in these few months, and then continue loving you from afar.

Levi did neither.

He felt terrible at this point. He was selfish, cruel, and fucking terrified. Because for some reason, when he has you within reach, he can’t stop himself from wanting you. His words contradict his actions, time and time again.

His hands are always eager to hold you, seek out and touch every part that they can grip onto. Especially when the kisses grow hotter, needier, and more bold.

His fingers slip under your shirt, at first only to feel the soft skin of your hips against his rough hands…and then they want more. Desperately.

So how can he explain himself?

After walking out on you for the nth time? Abruptly stopping you from reciprocating and bolting out of the room, leaving you all alone to figure out what you did wrong. Letting him do whatever he wanted also didn't work, because, at some point, he would stop on his own, hands snapping to his sides as if he got burned.

You took the rejections with grace, nodding and smiling at him. “Of course”, “That's alright”, “‘Vi, we don't have to, you know that right?”. You were getting exhausted though.

___________

So this time, when he pulled you into his lap, both of your lips swollen and red from kissing for so long, your hands gripped his the moment you felt them reach around your back and down your long skirt.

“I think that we need to stop doing this.”

Your words startled him, even if your voice was tiny, barely audible. He was stopped dead in his tracks, a gasp leaving his glossy lips as he heaved for air.

“We can just stick to holding hands or something, is that okay?”

He was speechless for a moment, yet your eyes were insisting on a reply, holding his gaze, your legs gripping him tighter to stop him from going away before giving any form of an answer. Frustration was evident on your face, and looking at you like that made him nauseous.

“Okay.” he had to will himself to talk, mumbling it out with great effort.

“Okay” you repeated, a little quieter, standing up on your feet, already on your way to the door.

“Will you come by for tea tonight?” your face softened at his panicked expression, and you knew the question was anything but a simple invitation.

Will you come back?

Is it too far gone?

Did he irredeemably fuck it up?

“Of course ‘Vi, I'll keep you company while you do your paperwork too”

_____________

“And for all the other times…” you nodded, making space on the couch. An invitation.

Levi took it, making his way to you before sitting down again. Usually, he wouldn't be so quick with it.

Today, he needed to ease the ache in his chest.

Fears of you not showing up tonight, the hard grip on his wrists that he can still feel if he thinks about it a little harder. The general tension was suffocating.

“I'm not trying to mess with you either.”

“I know.”

“I've never done it before”

“I know that too”

There's a pause, your hand slowly inching to his.

He selfishly takes it.

“I don't know what I want.”

“I don't really believe that, you always know.”

“You're right.”

You're chewing at your lip, still not looking at him. He might run off if you stare at him too much during a serious conversation.

He hates himself for teaching you that.

“I want to”

“Okay”

“I'm terrified of it”

You hum.

You knew about his mother.

“Not because of what my mother was, I think that's not the main problem anymore”

“Oh…” you nod again, squeezing his hand once in encouragement.

“I can't give you what you need”

“You don't need to give me anything.”

“I want to. I can't.”

He's sweating, his hand turning clammy and slippery in your own.

“You have everything I need though…I'm really trying to understand Lev-”

“I don't.”

“What do you mean…” you're searching through answers in your head.

“Does it not work anymore?” it would be offensive if anyone else said it, but the way you ask is timid, gentle, and already full of understanding.

He shakes his head no.

“Not that”

“Are you concerned about the…size?”

“No!” he doesn't even have one, why does the insinuation that it's small offend him for a moment, he isn't sure.

But.

“What if I was?”

It's close to it, isn't it?

“I mean usually guys think that they-”

“Unusable. What if it's unusable.”

“Can you… not feel good?” bless your heart for always thinking about him before everything.

“I can. What if it was unusable?” he repeats the question, gripping your hand tight in his, his other fisting the cushion of his couch.

“As long as you're willing to touch me in other ways? I already know that you're good with your hands, with practically anything you try. I doubt it would be much different? We could also practice.” your tone is serious, and now you're looking at him, curiously gauging his reaction. Did you say the right thing? He's gonna bolt away any second now.

Levi takes his time to think for a moment. Being delusional, that's what he's doing.

He hums.

“It's not that.”

“Okay” he can sense that you don't believe him now. That's alright. It doesn't change anything.

“You'll run away.”

“I promise I won't!”

“You will.”

“Will not!”

It's futile.

Levi sighs. His heart feels like it's gonna beat out of his chest. Late at night, he would imagine a similar scenario to this. Over and over again.

He would think of ways to drop the conversation. A billion excuses carefully thought through, memorized to perfection.

But it's vastly different in reality.

With you, now propped on your knees on his couch, a hand strongly pulling on his collar to make him look back at you. When did he look away? When did the adoration in your eyes become repulsive enough for him to not be able to bear looking at it? He didn't even notice.

He swallows, throat bobbing as spit and bile struggle to pass the gigantic lump.

His teeth are clenched as well, rubbing uncomfortably against one another. If he doesn't relax his jaw soon, he might even chip them away from how hard they are gritted together.

“Can you promise me something then?”

Selfish.

That's what he always is when it comes to you.

He knows that you would give him anything. Promise him everything if only he demands it.

So he takes it.

Greedily. Pathetically. Miserably.

“When you do leave. You will not tell a soul.” in your head this was too silly. Levi never seemed like he cared for what people talked about behind his back. No matter how awful a rumor would be, he would let people talk. His dick was also a topic of conversation in the scouts more than once. Soldiers need to pass the time somehow.

‘Must be small, he's so short, it would make sense!’

‘Maybe that's where all the height went!!’

If you do leave, he will deal with the heartbreak. What he can't deal with is his secret flowing around at the same time. He simply doesn't know how he would handle both. He actually doesn't know how he would handle the first one either, but he tells himself that he'll manage.

Threatening would also work on anyone but you. You can't threaten someone who doesn't feel a speck of fear towards you.

So he grips at the forced promise.

“Okay ‘Vi. I promise I won't tell a soul. It won't happen though!” your stubbornness parallels his sometimes, and now he relents, finally looking at you.

He pulls you into his lap, like how you were this morning. His hands are shaking, but you're smiling at him, one hand already on his cheek.

‘Living a life with no regrets’ is a drive people with too many of them under their belt choose as a last resort.

Levi's mind is not strong enough to hold onto all of them and stay sane, so naturally at one point, either he lets his regrets pull him down into pits of insanity, or he creates a delusion to follow in order to keep the weight on his soul that much lighter.

Levi kisses you, similarly to how he did the first time. Clumsily and stiff. And then he melts against you.

He doesn't regret kissing you. He refuses to regret it.

He will not regret it once you rip yourself away from him in disgust, fumbling for your things and slamming his door shut.

He will not regret it once he has to transfer you to a different squad and after that, he won't regret never speaking to you again..

As his mind is trying to catch up with everything, your shirt is already off.

He took it off your shoulders himself, hungry for the warm skin of your stomach, your back, and your chest.

He won't regret never having it under his fingertips again. He would regret never doing it when he had the chance.

Your voice is angelic as his lips trail across your shoulders and collar, leaving a sloppy mess in their wake. When your hands grip at the hem of his shirt, he wills his arms to keep still against your hip bones.

You won't notice anything ‘wrong’ there.

It still makes him anxious.

He's flatter than an average man, maybe because of genetics, maybe the piss-poor diet underground, or the lack of sun. Fuck if he knows.

What little could have been noticed would easily be attributed to his workout nowadays.

So he feels your hands on him for the first time.

It’s pleasant. Feeling you grip onto him wherever you can reach as he slips his tongue past your lips. Your cheeks are flushed and warm, eyes closed as you let him lead your kiss.

Despite the nervousness of the impending doom that he's been bracing himself for this whole time, he feels wetness between his legs, soaking through his boxers.

Your long skirt ends up being hiked up and you shyly guide his hands to your thighs.

He watches mesmerized as you find friction on top of his pants, his palms following the gentle sway of your hips.

Maybe if he could get you off like this, he could die a happy man. He'd engrave the image into his brain and replay it for decades probably.

You part for air, gasping and filling your lungs before you press your forehead to his, opening your pretty eyes to look at him again.

“I promised.”

“You did.”

You can feel the anticipation building in your tummy, warm and fuzzy as you readjust on his lap so that you're kneeling with one leg between both of his and the other at his side.

He gives a curt nod, and your fingers easily unbuckle his pants, unbuttoning them and then tugging the zipper down slowly.

He helps you take them to his ankles where he kicks them off the rest of the way.

Levi wants to crawl out of his own skin.

He will regret everything soon enough.

Your fingers slip past the waistband of his underwear, and you ignore the bruising grip on your shoulder. First, you're met with a tuff of thick hair, and then your fingers glide lower. Your lips are inches from his, and you refuse to look down, no matter how curious, you feel like not looking would make him feel a tiny bit more comfortable.

You pass over a tiny bump and Levi's breath hitches as you experimentally fiddle it between your middle and pointer fingers.

An inch or so lower, your digits slip between something warm and slick. Pressing with a little more force, your lips form into a little ‘oh’.

There are plenty of things you want to say, and then a few you want to ask out of pure curiosity. But you have to swallow it down, keep it for later, because Levi's glossy eyes pull at your heart with urgency, begging for a response.

“This is fine.”

“Is it?”

“Mhm.”

“You can leave.”

“I know”

“Are you going to?”

“Not planning to, no.”

Your hand doesn't stop moving, only slows down considerably as you wait for the barrage of questions and possible accusations.

“Is it not gross?”

Was he referring to a pussy in general?

“I've been with women before.”

“I'm not a woman though”

“I know that too.”

“You don't have to lie.”

“I'm not lying.”

“It's weird.”

“I don't think so. Just different.”

“Just different?”

“Yeah.”

He puts a little space between you two, releasing the death grip on your shoulder.

“Don't lie for my sake”

“I'm not lying” you don't mind repeating it.

“I'm serious. I will despise you if you're lying.”

“Good thing I'm not then.”

There's something in him that wants him to fight you more. He wants a different reaction. The one he practiced for, so that he could know what to do.

You keep your distance, but you place your hand closer to him, inches from his own, which is balled up in a tight fist with his nails leaving dull, moon-like crests in his palm.

Minutes drag out, feeling like hours.

When his breath comes out in a shudder, it's a sign that he let himself fall, trusting your words.

You grin when he looks your way again, and he takes your hand in his.

He's pulling you off the couch, stumbling across the room as he drags you behind him. At the door of his bedroom, you feel like you need to kiss him in order to breathe.

Your back ends up pressed to the wooden door then, strong arms picking you up.

Your legs find home around his hips, your arms secured tightly around his neck as he devours your mouth. He pulls your plump lips between his teeth, groaning lowly once your naked chest presses against his.

One of his hands snakes up your side and to the back of your neck, fingers lodging into your hair to keep your head from hitting against the door as you hungrily lick into his mouth.

You fumble for the handle, pushing the door open with your elbow. You feel hot all over, skin burning and shining in sweet sweat that Levi licks off your throat, baring his teeth to the junction of your neck and shoulders to stifle the moans that threaten to surge out when you rack your nails down his back.

He lowers you on the bed slowly, watching as you clumsily get your skirt and underwear off.

He towers over you within seconds, finding a place between your legs that spread out for him eagerly.

He's eating you with his eyes alone, and it sends goosebumps through your spine.

“You're…” his pale skin turns unrecognizably red, and you can see him struggling to come up with any more words.

“Just do whatever, I don't care ‘Vi, just touch me, c'mon…”  

He nods, faltering for a moment before he smooths his finger across your heat experimentally. He massages the fat beside your folds with his thumb, the hairs there wet, sticking together due to your arousal.

Being touched by someone feels very much different than it does with your own fingers, you knew that already. But being slowly explored by someone who is desperately trying to learn everything about your body must take the cake.

Levi watches you, every breath you take, and every movement of your hips that buck off the bed. He takes in every gasp and moan rushing past your gorgeous lips as he presses and dips with his fingers.

He spreads your wetness around, coating your clit to make the flicks of his thumb against it smooth. He's not as helpless as he feared he would be, on the contrary, it turns out that it comes relatively easy to excel in something if you already know how to do it to yourself.

And as you mentioned earlier, he does have a way with his hands with everything he picks up. He feels a sense of pride when you start rutting against his hand, hungry for his touch while also being wildly unashamed to show it to him.

“Fuck me, ‘Vi, please for the love of God” you mewl as he takes your hood between two boney fingers, tugging and massaging there.

“Yeah…okay” his voice is raspy, sounding like a purr as he comes close to your face, propping himself on his elbow.

His fingers slowly dip inside you, and he's there to catch your moan as he sinks into you with ease, all the way to his knuckles.

“You're so gorgeous…” he whispers it like it's a secret. You know that saying things like that takes effort from him, not for the lack of meaning behind them.

You see the words at the tip of his tongue often, but hearing them out loud was a rarity.

“You're breathtaking” and now you're being truly spoiled, his fingers rocking into you…slow at first.

“It feels like I'd die without you.”

“Me too” 

The confessions hang in the air, and they're deeper than ‘I love you’s’. They express the uncontainable need of two people, drunk on the feeling of each other to the point where they feel like their hearts would simply stop if something ripped them away.

“I'm close, it's embarrassing” 

The tempo of his thrusts is now steady, and he watches as you snake your hand between your bodies, touching yourself to his pace.

He holds his breath, mesmerized by your movements. You're everything, and he can't keep his eyes off of you. Your cunt hugging his fingers, leaking into his open palm as you grind your hips to meet him, your fingers flicking at your gorgeous bud with urgency.

All the while, you scramble to moan his name, to beg him not to stop, to plea for him to fuck you just like this until you fucking pass out.

You cum with a loud cry, all over his hand, all over his perfectly made bed and clean sheets, and he already wants you to do it again and you haven't even stopped shaking from the first wave of your orgasm.

Your legs close around his arm, tightly locking him in place where he can only curl his fingers into your soft walls to help you ride out your high. 

He stares with wide eyes as you slump back against the mattress, chest heaving, blissed out of your mind. And you don’t hate him. And you didn’t run. And he will never let you go now.

You release his hand soon enough, collecting yourself. 

Feeling strength come back to your legs, you prop yourself up, pushing Levi under you with ease only explained by his utter willingness to let you take whatever you want from him.

Sweet surrender. Your hands are back on his skin, lips tickling their way between his chest and to his stomach, kissing your way above the hem of his underwear. He finds the part of his brain that yells at him to be careful, and he crushes it.

You strip him fully bare now, anticipation building up once again.

You want to eat him alive, hooking his leg over your shoulder and biting the inside of his thighs, soaking in his shivers and the frantic rush of his hand to cover his mouth.

Your eyes are purely dark, and you're still smiling at him. In a way that makes Levi’s heart race. Adrenaline courses through him, it feels similar to how it is when he's out on missions, focused, on edge and patiently waiting for the creatures to launch at him at any moment.

Is comparing you to a titan truly what his brain is doing right now?

No…not in that sense. He feels like he's being hunted, looked at like he's just a piece of meat hanging on a stick, being circled around for the sole amusement of the beasts.

You nibble at his skin again, jerking his attention down at you.

“This okay?”  

Levi wants to crawl in a hole and die out of embarrassment, your face inches away from his pussy.

He hasn't been this turned on in his life. 

“‘Vi?” you lean your cheek on his thigh, nuzzling against it.

“Yes.” 

And then you're wrapping your arms around his muscley legs, flatting your tongue against him and swiping in one well swoop before he hears you humming approvingly.

“Must you be so shameless” You nose at his clit, ignoring his comment. He smells divine. The taste that lingers on your tongue compels you to dive in again for more. 

At first, it doesn't feel like much, barely there friction that only tickled him ever so often. You take your time with him, peering up occasionally as you proudly swallow him down. Your chin and nose were a mess already. 

Once you made sure that every part of him was licked clean, you finally closed your lips over his engorged clit. It laid heavy on your tongue, and as you sucked your cheeks in, Levi found your hands and pulled them over his stomach so that he could hold them to ground himself. 

“Fuck…hng. Listen I-” You swirl him inside your mouth, pulling off with a pop so that you can tongue at his slit where fresh arousal seeps into your tastebuds. His eyes roll to the back of his skull and the vibrations of your humms drive him even more insane.

“My Walls, wait a second!” it feels amazing. He hates being greedy like this. He doesn’t want to ruin anything. But he needs to feel you.

He has no idea how. He needs more and closer. 

How did he live without your touch before this?

“Come up.”

“Bossy…” 

You listen, crawling up to him.

“Need more baby?” 

“Shut up.”

“What is it then?” 

You’re so mean. You should give mercy for his poor, old man's heart.

“Here…follow what I do.” Ordering him around is an ego boost. Finally, there’s something you’re better at than him(future will show that that won’t last long).

You push one of your legs under his, lifting your other one so that he can position himself. As he’s doing that, you take his other leg and you place it on your shoulder swiftly, hugging it to your chest before you let your full weight press against him. 

“This better?” you rock your hips languidly, waiting for his reaction. 

“Fuck, okay…yeah…it's. Yeah.” He props himself up on his elbows, angling himself a little better.

You watch mesmerized between your bodies, the slow glides of your drooling folds, the shy bumps of your clits against one another.

It takes a while for the friction to build up, a few minutes until your movements sync up, the up and down motion of your hips timing perfectly with each other. 

Levi’s hair is damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead, eyelashes fluttering while he struggles to keep his eyes open. He wants to learn, wants to lead the pace next time, make you feel good and spoil you. He needs to remember every little thing about you, what makes you tick, what drives you insane.

He balances on one arm, his other supporting the fluent rolls of your hips with firm pressure on your thigh. 

The dim lighting accentuates his build. The pale, jagged scars scattered across his body make him all the more beautiful to look at. They show his strength, endurance, and ferocity…and this same body that has been fighting to survive for most of its life is writhing under you, trusting you to handle it with care.

The hand he holds you with has many small cuts, they're impossible to count, whereas the pads of his fingers are rough, toughened up from holding the blades so often.

When you pay closer attention to his legs, there are strips of skin where hair doesn't grow anymore. You recognize the placement of the gear straps easily. Many soldiers share the same markings, but his are especially attractive. 

Is that even a thing that can be considered particularly attractive? Lack of hair in weird places?

Doesn't really matter because apparently, if it’s on Levi, it's sinfully hot.

You shift your attention back to his face. His eyes are dimmed and dark, the blueish hue barely there. His mouth is slacked open, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

You can feel hot blood rushing through your body, tips of your fingers tingly. You hold your breath and you flex the muscles of your stomach, the coil in your gut threatening to snap oh so so soon.

“A little more, please… fuck I'm right there ‘Vi. You with me?” 

“Hmhm…yeah. I think so. yeah? Shit.” 

He overthinks it for a second.

Will he look weird? Will his face be pleasant to look at? Nobody ever saw him like this, he doubts anyone else ever will. If he could stuff a pillow into his face he would.

“ ‘Vi, gonna make me cum again, holy shit.”  

Oh.

That's what matters the most.

You feeling good. Because of him. With him?

“I've got you, yeah, c’mon, cum for me gorgeous…” he blushes at his own words, heisting the pace to help you both get there.

Soon everything goes still, gasps and grunts bouncing off the walls as you both release, one following after the other. Before you squeeze your eyes shut, you latch onto the image of him, captivated and awestruck by his expression.

Your second orgasm is mindnumbing, leaving your brain a mush.

You clutch at his leg and he squeezes yours as you both slow down to a stop. The sheets beneath you are soaked through, slightly uncomfortable as you both scramble and stretch your sore limbs.

You lay onto Levi's chest and he wraps you in his arms, tucking his chin at the top of your head. His heartbeat slowly becomes regular, and your breath evens out.

He feels like he needs to say something. Is he supposed to say anything after? 

He decides that he won't ruin the silence, no matter how badly he wants to sabotage the tender moment.

You stroke his side with your thumb, going in tiny circles, and he replies by lightly scratching your back, falling into a steady rhythm.

Thirty-four years ago, Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter. 

One more person knows and the world didn't end.

Levi sleeps through the whole night and in the morning, he doesn't run.

Phew, I wrote this in one sitting and even now I have 20 more ideas for this plot. Old man pussy is a prison.

I would just like to clarify that reader isn't 'oblivious' to the existence of trans people by choice. It was mainly because I tried to keep to the canon timeframe, and in like 800's I don't know if such a thing would exist in the first place? It's definitely a very peculiar and specific situation that I had in mind aswell.

All in all, thank you for making it this far! Mwah💕

tip-yar : Ko-Fi 💕

commission info

[mysterycharacterbracket]

Season 2, Round L7, Poll #3

Character 78: he was abandoned by his mother when he was like 3 and ended up raised as a child soldier in what was essentially a cult. then he got kidnapped by his stepmother and ended up at ANOTHER CULT, eventually making his way back to the original cult. except then Bad Things Happened so he had to leave, and though he does make friends and get character development everything goes to hell when his best friend dies. he grieves for a few days then gets a message that says his friend is in fact still alive and was resurrected, so he spends the next few months searching for him. he doesn't find anything and goes to boarding school to try and live a normal life, his girlfriend breaks up with him, and then he gets dragged back into his old Fantasy Book Teenage Protagonist Life and gets killed in the most dramatic insane way possible, via getting stabbed by an evil immortal thousands-of-years-old capitalist.

Character 82: She is absolutely brilliant. Her job is basically to know what you are going to do before you do and she excels! She likes to communicate through code but eventually she does find her own voice and becomes more of an active player in the world. She is tasked to save lives and does so time and again. When people were threatening her, she managed to find an escape route all of her own and stayed hidden from /everyone/ for years. Until her nemesis eventually found her! But she wins out in the end, when it really matters. And she deeply cares for the family she brought together along the way.

[necr0maxic]

i am completely convinced that henri has it the worst of all the amnesia protagonists and by that i mean he has no redemption, he has no time to grieve, he has no explanation for what's going on and realistically, he is dead after the ending of the game with not a single soul to explain what happened inside that bunker. an unknown tragedy.

daniel and oswald eventually remember all about finding their orbs and the alien power that brought upon them. the shadow, vitae and the rituals were all explained to daniel and he remmbers them. the visions of the future and what oswald did with that knowledge comes back to him. the two get to remember what happened as they'd already had time to come to terms with it and get their redemption once they've been through the amnesia process and had the time to grieve what they did in the past. they to make a conscious choice in their endings too. oswald puts an end to the machine and his own suffering and it's his choice. daniel gets to take down alexander (with or without agrippa) or can choose to let alex complete his goal; even if it means his own sacrifice, daniel chooses his ending.

tasi and the rest of her crew all have a run in with tihana and the other world directly and by the time she gets to make the choice for her ending, she remembers everything and sees the consequences of her actions. given tasi hasn't actually done anything wrong and whose whole story revolves around being a grieving mother, she gets to slowly remember that as she's transforming and come to a newly informed conclusion where she, once again, chooses her outcome. she either sacrifices herself and/or her baby or she takes a risk despite knowing the consequences but the important part is she chooses it.

and what's so special about the three of them is that their choice has an impact on the world past their short lifespans. (going off the "true" endings) daniel calming the shadow, oswald destroying the machine and stopping the massacre, tasi destroying tihana's reign.

justine.... uh, justine is her own situation. she's just living her best life. she has nothing to do with the other world anyway, she really is just thriving. good for her.

henri though? he is never granted that. we don't know exactly when he went into the bunker or what involvement he had with the roman tunnels, but given we get no comments from either him or augustin about the strange events that happened in there, i don't believe either of them were aware. they're in a warzone, it's not uncommon for men to lose their minds and start seeing/hearing strange things. even hearing stories of the tunnels, it's easy to just believe that everyone i just superstitious. all henri knows is he's fighting a war, one day his best friend nearly died on a patrol and then somehow he miraculously survived and ended up back at the bunker. the man has amnesia caused by severe head trauma, that's a damn hefty thing to deal with already. severe head trauma, being in a coma for at least a week or two, probable concussions, retrograde amnesia hell even the fact he doesn't speak throughout the game might indicate aphasia. henri was not present for the tunnels incident not augustin's transformation so he did not already have the time to process and grieve it all. he finds things out by piecing together other people's journals but may not even have much time to do so as he's constantly under threat during the entire game. worse still, this creature that has no earthly explanation is hunting him and then when he reaches the tunnels for himself he suddenly sees floating rocks and visions so that's a whole other things for him to process. he has no idea what the other world is, what the harvesters are or why the harvesters exist. and once he escapes the bunker, he's not even given 10 seconds to breathe before he's at best captures and at most realistically killed by german soldiers who even if they could communicate with each other, would NEVER believe the insane story henri only had a fraction of information about of what happened down there. his death wouldn't affect anything and after the true ending, nobody would even have known he just stopped an almost immortal horror from massacring entire armies. there is no redemption to be had, there is no grieving, there is no rationalising what happened, it's just pure and constant terror.

[sapphiel]

Any facts about Envy and/or Abaddon? If not, that is completely fine with me.

Envy is an artificially created demon, specifically a yaoguai, a demon infused with the essence of an animal.

She was created by another demon who was a grieving father, mourning the loss of his beloved daughter, envying those who got to keep their own children. After years of searching for ways to bring her back, he found a way to create yaoguais. In the end... Envy was the result. A corrupted form of his daughter who doesn't even remember herself.

Her former name was Mariah Julia.

Being half-chameleon, Envy has a prehensile tail, a long sticky tongue, can change her appearance to become invisible or even resemble someone else, and her back pair of eyes can move independently and give her unparalleled vision. Strangely, her fingers and toes are also adhesive, much like a gecko.

Her name is gotten from the fact that not only was she born out of envy, but she secretly yearns to be like other people, be they demon or not. She feels incomplete, a disappointment... and maybe someone else's life is a lot more fulfilling than her own.

Abaddon is the Lucifer of Treachery, the lowest of the lows. Lucifers are demons branded by Hell as sinners and criminals that not even fellow demons can tolerate. He bears the worst title, the Ninth, after manipulating several people into getting his own way, like tricking other demons into crimes so that he may report them to Hell to be branded as other Lucifers, and even seducing higher authorities just so he may ascend in power.

His punishment as the Lucifer of Treachery is the fate of non-existence. He was sentence to vanish from reality for as long as no one is thinking about him. Several millennia had passed since his banishment, and only just recently had he returned to reality due to complicated reasons.

Formerly an overachiever who wants to ascend in life, Abaddon is now extremely nihilistic, and wants to be rid of reality. His current goal is to find the child he made with an angel long ago in order to harness their power. Demons and angels in Schism form a race called the nephilim, nicknamed "godkillers" for their potential to overthrow even the mightiest of powers. He seeks to use his child's power to hopefully destroy The Schism, and end not just the world, but reality as we know it, so that all will cease to exist.

In relation to the other Lucifers, he is actually the reason for the other eight's (technically nine) imprisonment: He pushed for Archibald's dream of a truce with angels but reported him as a traitor to Hell (Limbo), blackmailed Jezieka's lover for her indulgence in cannibalism, only for Jezieka to offer herself to be punished in her stead (Lust), corrupted Lady Vylke into consuming massive amounts of demon flesh then had her reported (Gluttony), tricked Tytus and Dima into robbing a bank of Fodere (the Circle of Greed) then lured them into a trap for capture (Greed), seduced Ariel when she was a lieutenant so he may climb the ranks with her graces, who eventually went insane with anger after finding out his betrayal (Anger), goaded Heresy into forming an army to fight the government of Hell only to rat her out in the end (Heresy), captured the general that was Red Lady mid-war for her acts of extreme and unwarranted violence (Violence), and finally, reported his own right hand, Adarahiel, who knew everything, to the authorities so that no loose ends remain.

His child, Morticia, does not know her true origins, as her angel mother had sacrificed her body so that Abaddon cannot lay his hands on either her nor the child, and she initially know she was a nephilim. Eventually though, Abaddon will find her, possessing and corrupting her, then ensuing a grand battle that causes a lot of the Schism's greater powers to unite against the Treacherous menace who dared to rear his head again after millennia of silence.

[steddiealltheway]

The last time Dustin was here it felt... different.

The panic and pain had seeped through his bones as he had left this place months ago. The early stages of grieving hadn't even hit him yet; he was more in a state of shock than denial.

Strangely enough, it was Nancy who had gotten through to him and got Eddie's body out of his grip. Something about Barb and the deep level of understanding had almost poetically fallen from her slightly quivering lips as Eddie was pulled away from him.

Dustin watched wordlessly as Steve struggled to pick up the limp body. "What- what are you doing?" Robin stuttered out in obvious panic.

"We can't just leave him here like this," Steve said as he walked back toward the half-destroyed trailer.

Dustin stared on as Eddie's head lifelessly rolled back with every step Steve took. "Come on," Nancy said gripping Dustin's shoulder tightly and moving his attention away from the sight.

Dustin doesn't remember much after that. He just knew that he never wanted to come back unless it was to kill the son of a bitch that did this to Eddie.

And here he is.

But this time he notes how cold it feels. How the air is thick. The world itself is muted and dull. But that's how it felt everywhere since Eddie was gone. People had told him the grieving got better, but to Dustin, it never seems to go away.

By now he has reached the acceptance stage in the grieving process. He knew Eddie was never coming back. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell.

There's a sound coming from the trailer. A rustling sort of noise that almost reminds Dustin of Dart.

He isn't prepared for the door to swing open.

"Henderson?" Eddie's voice calls out weakly.

Dustin freezes. It had been months since he had heard that voice. He had cried for days when he noticed that he was slowly losing the exact memory of what it sounded like. And here it is.

"Eddie?" Dustin croaks out.

Slowly, Eddie walks out of the trailer and towards Dustin.

"Stay back!" Dustin yells. He knows Vecna. He knows what he does to people. He knows how he gets into people's minds and can pretend to be other people.

And he knows Eddie is dead. He had died in his arms.

"Dustin..." Eddie says carefully, "It's me, kid. I swear on your mother. Remember the boat house?"

Dustin knows exactly what he's talking about. He feels like he's having an almost out-of-body experience as Eddie approaches him the same way he did to Eddie. But Vecna knows this. He knows Dustin's memories. Hell, he probably knows Eddie's memories.

"I know, Henderson. I know how insane this is. Just yesterday I died. I remember dying. And suddenly I woke up in my bed with my arms crossed over my chest as if everything was all some sort of shitty nightmare, but I'm still in this damn place. I'm freaking out, man," Eddie's voice cracks as his eyes get slightly watery. Don't bullshit me, man. I know how this sounds.

Dustin can't tell what's real anymore. Everything sounds like an echo of a memory, but it seems so real. He feels like he's walking right into the arms of Vecna.

A wave of numbness washes over him. "I mourned you. You're not real."

"Dustin-"

"You're not real!" Dustin yells. "You died. You're dead." His voice slightly breaks although he's already had this conversation at Eddie's grave. It's different when talking to a stone.

"Dustin-"

"Don't! I have grieved you. I have mourned. I have finally tried to go on knowing you would never come back."

Eddie gets closer as Dustin goes on. "It's not fair, man. Why'd you have to go back? Why did you have to sacrifice yourself? You could've made it and graduated. And you have no idea what it was like to tell your uncle. Trying to bullshit about an earthquake and pretending that you didn't die because of me."

"You didn't kill me-"

"But I did!" Dustin screams, feeling beyond hysterical now, but he doesn't care. If this is Vecna's way of draining him before the final fight, then he'll give it his all. "I went through with the stupid plan, and I couldn't convince you to stay. Why didn't you go up the rope first? Why didn't I climb through the portal sooner? Why did I drag you into this whole thing to begin with? We could've hidden you in Steve's damn basement and cleared your name. We could have taken longer and come up with a different plan. Now you're dead, Max is close to dead, and Vecna is still here. Your sacrifice didn't even matter, Eddie."

It's brutal to say it and face the truth, but he knows he's right. "You died for nothing," Dustin chokes out. "There, Vecna! Did you get what you wanted?!"

"Dustin!" Eddie says again.

Dustin shakes his head. "What."

"I'm real, man. I'm real and alive. And I honestly feel like a fucking..." Eddie trails off and lets out a little shout before putting his head in his hands and squatting down. He laughs humorlessly, "It's like by not running, I ran away again. Don't have to deal with the consequences when I die, right? Shit!"

Dustin watches as Eddie's mind seems to race a mile a minute. There are scars where the bat bites must've healed, but it makes no sense. Why would Vecna pretend that Eddie just woke up? And there's something so fundamentally Eddie about him that Dustin has to wonder if he...

"How long have I been... gone?" Eddie gestures to the half-destroyed trailer. "And when the hell did that happen? You said Max isn't dead."

"Max died, but El brought her back, and you've been gone for months now," Dustin answers feeling the familiar numbness come back. It's been easier to tell the facts in recent months since it comes out more like a story that he's completely detached from.

Eddie looks around and asks, "Where's everyone else?"

"Split up."

"Is anyone... dead?"

"Just you."

Eddie nods and slowly stands up. "Wayne... is he. Is he okay?"

"He hasn't been okay since I broke the news to him." Dustin huffs and looks around. "I know I shouldn't have chosen this place, but I just... I had to make sure your body was... was properly laid to rest."

"Dustin, what if I'm not dead? Seriously, man, I'm starting to think that maybe I'm a zombie or a vampire or something, but I can feel my heartbeat." He puts his hand over his heart and approaches Dustin. "Feel."

Dustin hesitates a moment before slowly reaching out. It's strange to think, but it's almost like instead of seeing, feeling is believing.

He doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to feel how cold he is, a reminder of how lifeless his body felt before. He doesn't want him to fade away and wake up from whatever dream or trance he's in. He doesn't want him to be not real.

So, Dustin finally puts his hand over Eddie's heart.

And it's beating.

Dustin can barely comprehend it, but then he's throwing himself into Eddie's arms and holding on for dear life. "I thought I lost you, man."

"I did, too," Eddie chokes out as he squeezes Dustin.

Dustin pulls back quickly and hits him on the arm. "I can't believe you fucking died, you asshole! Do you know how fucking hard it's been? Why didn't you fucking run with me? Why did you..." Dustin breaks again and throws himself back into Eddie's arms too confused and scared to let him go.

"I'm so sorry, Dustin. Shit, I'm so sorry," Eddie says.

"You fucking better be," Dustin chokes out. He swallows and tries to get his breathing under control. "I love you, man."

"I love you, too, kid," Eddie responds through tears.

Dustin doesn't care if it's Vecna or not. He'd do anything to just have Eddie in his life for a few seconds longer. But maybe he'll be staying longer than that.

(Thank you @henderdads and @stevesbipanic for encouraging me to write this little drabble :))) <3 )

[receival]

castlevania, season 3 starters.

the following is a collection of sentence starters from the netflix original, castlevania.

oh, my god. i am losing my mind.

it’s only been a month. i think.

i think it might actually be a nice night, for once.

do you think we’ll make the next town before we lose the last of the light?

do we need to make more noise?

they need to hurry up. i’m hungry.

let them get in close and get confident.

oh, god, not this again.

i am certainly doomed. doomed, i say! i am defenseless and frozen to my seat with fear!

laying it on a little thick, aren’t you, (name)?

this will all be over in a minute.

what if i said i was sorry?

i’ve been promoted from “brain - damaged servant”, then.

it’s absolutely bloody chaos out there!

i want to get in a bath, for at least a day.

the plan couldn’t have gone more wrong.

you’ll be wanting a drink, then.

you do still love me!

it’s us against the world, (name).

has there been some apocalyptic development that i somehow slept through in the meantime?

time absolutely does move on, and, sadly, none of us is master or mistress of it.

they are somewhat, uh, broken.

did you kill it?

how do you know this?

they said they felt his death.

does that offend you?

it’s time for you and yours to move along now, (name).

what the hell was that?

oh, dear. what a shame.

not until i feel a little safer here.

you killed that bastard thing. you get one free.

that is better than sex.

i do hope you sleep well tonight, with my tiny, icy foot shoved all the way up your —

and you know the smell of hell?

are you breathing, betrayer?

i was spoiled by a single act of kindness in this city. and so i attempted to be reasonable, honest, and peaceful. this was against my better nature.

it was stupid to expect anything other than hate from you.

i keep making the same mistake. i should know better.

then why are still talking to me?

do you know what annoys me about it the most? it’s a really good idea.

maybe we could just torture him until he does what he’s told.

i suppose i’m awake now.

good boy.

what a formidable beast you are.

uh … who the hell are you?

you are practically the jesus of murder.

i have no idea what’s happening right now.

and … what do you want in return?

what interests you so much about hell?

i will not be hunted.

if i wanted him dead, i would have aimed higher.

i am not “the” anything.

you’re better than i thought.

you will have to unlearn much of what you know about the world and take on more than you ever imagined.

i think my mother would approve.

now we are not alone.

i suppose we could take a break.

ah, you’ve gone insane.

you could have told me that yesterday.

well, now i want to know how you’re even alive.

the place is apparently full of lunatics.

what do you need to know?

they just looked … well. broken.

i’m not looking at you, (name).

you like looking at me.

do you partake of alcohol?

it’s not pain as you understand it.

i’m too angry. i cannot find myself.

i cannot pray. i cannot see god.

he was confused. he was grieving.

it is a skill, learned over many years.

through my hand, god lifts the damned from hell in his mercy to enact their penance on the earth as my soldiers.

well after you’ve had your blood, what will you do then?

i’ve been cruel. it’s a cruel world. maybe we do all deserve to die — but maybe we could be better, too.

revenge is good. bastards need punishing.

vampires. you like to play with your food.

sorry. it must look like blood, mustn’t it?

i seem to have some roasted chicken in here. i’m afraid there are no maggots on it — i can call the guard and ask him to get you some sprinkles.

we enjoy all the good things of life. it’d be silly not to, wouldn’t it? otherwise, well, why live forever, if you’re not going to live well?

why live forever, if you’re not going to live well?

it’s alright. i’m not here to cause you any more harm.

let’s just have something to eat, and talk.

well! wasn’t that fun!

i’m a diplomat, (name). i make peace. and because of that, people think i’m soft. people think i’m weak. you won’t make that mistake again, will you?

fetch!

don’t look at those.

how long have you been here on your own?

tell me i’m wrong.

i admit it, alright? it’s been amazing. but i also remember how hard it was to get here.

i wish you’d stop talking to me like i’m insane, (name).

we wear the mark of hell?

i confess i had doubts about you.

enough. move away.

quietly confident people are competent and careful. nervous people make mistakes.

i’d rather they were nervous than happy in their work.

stop pretending that this is anything other than what it is.

it’s not poisoned.

let’s talk about what you would like.

i — i don’t understand the question.

i wasn’t necessarily looking for a reward.

so, you would have died with your boots on.

but what if you’re lying to me?

oh, i don’t have to lie to you. i have no interest in faith. faith makes for terrible diplomacy.

i like the sound of your voice.

i mean, look at you. beaten down a dozen different ways, and you don’t give up on yourself.

what a monster i have become.

i cannot believe this is happening again.

why do i keep doing the same thing and expecting a different result?

am i mad?

what the hell are you doing with your life?

what the actual hell are you thinking?

you weren’t following me, were you?

somebody always needs something.

places have a strange way of catching back up with you.

and you know it wasn’t there yesterday?

oh. that’s worrying,

i want to see how good you are when it comes down to a blade.

i’m developing a taste for the rougher things in life.

i do not trust people, generally.

who did you lose?

a bird might think your penis was a twig and fly off with it.

good boy.

the thing is, (name), humans forget things. vampires don’t.

you have a lot to learn.

so dramatic. relax and enjoy the night.

alright, i admit it. that’s fantastic.

is this a trick? am i dreaming?

i had a feeling you might find it interesting.

can i see you tomorrow night?

that’s a depressing thought.

i hope i love long enough to find out how it ends.

we — we shouldn’t be … here.

take my hand! please!

i’m sure there must have been a time when i had nice dreams.

do you remember who you were?

i think it was a long time ago.

i gave up others so that i may live.

thank you for my second life.

it will take a very long time, and there are more important things to do.

i’m not going anywhere, (name).

it’s a little more complicated than that.

not an obvious thing to find in a church.

i don’t see why this would excite you so.

i fail to see why this should interest me.

you’re alone here?

i smell you.

i see you.

i’m just not as strong as i was.

there are worse things than betrayal.

i’m a simple man with simple pleasures.

oh, i do like meeting a professional killer.

keep a civil fucking tongue in your head when you’re addressing me, (name).

you can’t keep me here.

i can’t believe i tried to be nice to you.

why are you still awake?

can you not keep it down?

well, now i definitely need a drink.

he’s holding things back from us.

can it be after i’ve had a nap?

i’m not lazy. i conserve my resources for important

efforts.

i feel as if i’ve been led here.

we’re doomed.

i don’t have enough information yet.

i seem to have missed that epic part of your plan.

you’re being … kind.

alright, alright. no need to make a production out of it.

i’m simply not used to people being kind to me for no reason.

there’s not something you’re not telling me?

has night fallen already?

you didn’t hear me enter.

i’m presuming there’s some disturbing reason for that and i will regret asking.

so now we’re not all monsters?

diplomacy is compromise.

i get something, you get something.

i have all the power, and you’re a pretty man in a box.

i’m — i’m pretty?

i’ve been awake all day thinking about it.

i want to be let out.

that would be a direct betrayal.

you’d survive less than a day on your own.

i would die almost immediately.

uh, that wasn’t what i was expecting to hear.

i think we’ve made a terrible mistake.

god is no longer in that house.

sleep, you idiot.

maybe i should get a coffin to sleep in.

tell me you’re mine.

i’m yours.

tell me you belong to me.

i belong to you.

what the fuck is that?

i may have been on my own for too long.

another hopeful idea that died in its sleep.

(name), do you have my back?

you’re already dead.

why? why would you tell me this?

all this death and horror for that leech?

show me what i want to see, you fucking bastard!

i gave you everything.

the world is not against you.

i am not against you.

i never lied to you.

i just want to know what’s behind that door.

this could not have gone more wrong.

[vendettapandav]

John Loves You AU notes

So I'm awake now and I've been seeing this Swap AU concept everywhere, so naturally, I wanted to contribute by bringing my own little interpretation of things to the table ❤️

Big credit to @zzoupz and @salmonandsoup bc they formed the basis for a lot of these ideas and I just wanted to build on some of the concepts bc they are insanely cool and inspiring ✨

John Ward - Charismatic, well-spoken, manipulative, but quite spineless and cowardly otherwise, John is a priest who can’t help but look at the world with scorn. He is of the belief that humanity is irredeemable in its current state. That no amount of prayer and penance can save mankind now. The only way for there to be salvation is for the world to effectively be “reset” by God once more. Much like Noah and his Ark, John feels that it is his mission to gather all those that are still able to be saved and are destined for the new world. Once he has gathered them all in his temple, The Ark, he intends to initiate a ceremony to unleash a “flood of angels” into the world. He believes that God will not be able to ignore such a sign and will “wipe the slate clean,” after which he and his followers will emerge in a new Eden and rebuild the world as God intended. Also, he wields a dagger in the shape of a cross (because that idea is cool as hell and I’m obsessed with it.) His cult features iconography of hoofed animals, especially lambs, goats, and deer.

Lisa Pearson - John’s right-hand woman and chosen “vessel.” If he is Joseph, then she is the Mother Mary of the Cult of the Ark. Having known John since childhood, she had no reason not to trust him when he told her the world would soon end and that he needed her help, especially when he was inaugurated as a priest and claimed: “it was God’s will.” She trusts John wholeheartedly to protect her and save her soul. She is loyal to him and utterly adores him, and she will stubbornly deny that she is with him against her will. She genuinely loves John, and she’s very kind and sweet, and non-hostile, unlike John and the rest of the cult. One should tread lightly though, as she is very perceptive, and she is very much a tattle-tail. Any perceived threat she sees will immediately be reported, and John will respond with full force to defend her. Even if that means having to stab someone himself. She helps John run the abortion clinic and harvest “young, pure souls” to use as messengers to God.

Father Garcia - Garcia is considered the guardian of John’s flock. He’s referred to as the Shepherd by John’s followers, the Angel by John himself, and the Reaper by all outsiders that try to lead his lambs astray. A senior priest, John took advantage of him during the lowest point in his life after the death of his wife. He deceived a grieving Garcia into believing that he could find peace again or perhaps even see her when the world was reborn into a new Eden, and all he had to do was play the role of Shepherd for his flock of chosen ones. Garcia was all too happy to accept in his desperation to find purpose and faith again, gladly taking up arms and fiercely defending John and his cult. He’s a stern, stubborn old man who has bought completely into John’s rhetoric and cannot be swayed, for he has nothing left to lose. He’s former military and he speaks candidly of how he served in Vietnam in particular. He’s also a hunting enthusiast, so he knows his way around traps and guns and will use this knowledge to keep outsiders at bay.

Amy Martin - Displaced just before she turned 18, Amy ended up being taken in by Miriam. Her family and she frequently got into arguments and fights about the fact she worked at an abortion clinic. Her parents threatened to throw her out so Amy went a step ahead and left on her own after they tried placing nonsensical rules and restrictions on her. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as Amy’s family became the first victims of John and his cult after they refused to join his cause. He believed they would be easy to indoctrinate on account of their grief over their lost twins but they resisted. As such, he ended up having them killed and used their corpses as part of a summoning ritual for some “angels.” Amy never learned the truth past the fact that her family was murdered. She’s furious and bitter and demands to be included in Gary’s mission to take down the cult.

Michael Davies - Left in the care of Father Garcia by a family who mistook his albinism for demonic possession, when Garcia joined the cult he brought Michael with him. Michael was originally planned to be used as a vessel; “a mouthpiece for God.” (Aka, he was going to be possessed by a demon.) Somehow, he managed to escape and was offered sanctuary by Miriam until Gary could properly exorcise him. Unfortunately, Gary was unable to do so and Michael ended up escaping their care. Now, Gary’s mission is to find him, free his soul, and destroy John’s cult before they find him first and unknowingly complete the ritual that will open the world to a flood of demons.

Tiffany Robinson - Tiffany is Gary's childhood friend. She was often the only one who stood beside him when others picked on him for his status as a bastard child. As they got older, they stayed very close despite their significant differences. While Gary went on to become a preacher, Tiffany leaned more into news reporting and writing in general and adopted an agnostic mindset. They still spend a lot of time together and she volunteers herself up as his assistant who takes notes for him and helps him edit and practice his sermons while joking around with him.

Gary Miller - Gary is a preacher, albeit not an overly religious one. He takes a more loose and accepting interpretation of the Bible, focusing less on God and more on the stories, encouraging community support and acceptance. His heart is in the right place, but he tends to come off as very cynical and critical of the Church as an organization and holds a bitterness towards established religion due to the way it was shoved down his throat as a child. He’s got a small but devoted following, despite his opinions being unpopular with most. When he’s not at an altar, he’s usually volunteering in the local community. He uses a cane (with a sword in it bc like I said before, I’m OBSESSED with the concept) to get around. While he’s mostly healthy, old age has caught up with him a bit and his left knee is in a sore state on account of an incident with some other kids in his youth that left it damaged. He’s kind, charismatic, a bit snarky and sarcastic with his humor, but overall well-mannered and good-natured.

Miriam Bell - Miriam was a devoted nun for decades before she had Gary. He was an unplanned child for obvious reasons and seeing as termination wasn’t an option (and she would have just been further ostracized for it), she was excommunicated from her church as a nun. This didn’t stop her from loving Gary with all her heart, nor did it stop her from attending a different church with her boy despite the constant rumors and nasty comments about her situation. She was the one who taught him to judge less and be more kind and tolerant. Her only regret is not doing more to protect him from the constant badgering from others who knew he was born out of wedlock. She’s a loving, protective figure in her greater general community and is a bit of a mama bear to all the kids. If you walk into her house, you will notice a lot of handmade dolls, a lot of old jewelry, and a lot of swords to go with the homemade cooking. She teaches self-defense classes on the side, and she still spoils her adult son.

Alu, Roger, Jefferey, Malphas - All powerful demons conjured from Hell to usher in chaos and the end of days, John believes them to be nothing more than angels. He’s summoned them under the thought that they will get God’s attention and serve as witnesses and testimonies as to why the earth should be flooded and purged once more. Tricksters that they are, they are more than happy to go along with his delusions and make demands for “evidence” in the form of sacrifices and ceremonies. He doesn’t realize that they’re not angels, and they’re just fine with that fact.

[adracat]

GWitch 21 thoughts

A bit of a transitional episode for the most part though it does escalate some things quite a bit. Always a fun ride on GWitch's coaster of madness and mechs!

First on the docket, Asticassia's aftermath. They really treat you to the scope of its devastation and the students having to wait it out. Bit odd imo they make the students camp there but I guess their parents are likely scattered anyway considering the state of Benerit.

Also was it just me or did y'all instinctively look for Loss in this image? Nicely organized camp at least.

Omg I might cry. Precious Suletta has decided to take it upon herself to care for the students. rescuing them in multiple ways I see. For me, it drives home the message that human connection and community are more important than destructive forces clashing. Empathy over games of war or corporate power struggles. It's also nice that Secilia* (edit: had a brain lapse lol) questions her reasons for altruism.

Because she can so she will 🥺

We finally see how Mio is faring and it's not great! She's taken on the guilt of Prospera's induced bloodshed along with Shaddiq's. Guel tries to reassure her but Mio is firm. This is her fault. Ngl, Guel, you're partly to blame for the school. No offense. It hurts to see Mio take on other people's wrongdoing, but that's a martyr for you

Her talk with Shaddiq was interesting for a variety of reasons, but what stood out to me was their mutual resignation. They're both so tired. Shaddiq admitting he escalated because of Guel and Mio is insane tbh. She calls him an idiot, but it lacks her usual fire. I do like that he tries to protect Sabina and the gang; really speaks to the fact he's more complex than a mustache twirling villain.

OMG Chuchu giving these two tomatoes instead of punches like before was amazing. The growth! The compassion! Ugh it was so good. As was the reveal that Suletta has been stockpiling the tomatoes. Mio might not know it, but she and by extension her mother aided these wounded kids. And Suletta musing on Mio fondly? Peak

After surviving the hell room, I can't blame her for reassessing her life and priorities. Sad she lost her dream but it was tainted by Shaddiq so I understand her reasoning. She'll earn her way back fairly, though it might not be any time soon once she submits herself to the authorities.

I wasn't surprised by this. Peil's horse in the presidency war lost, so might as well turncoat. They're opportunists at heart. The pure SALT though! It was the worst kind of news for everyone else at Benerit, including Mio. Forcible suppression are not words you want to hear

It's awful of me but this screenshot made me laugh. Something about her slumped forward and mouth open, just dead to everything around her. I'm sorry Mio, I'm sad for you still. She's having a hell of a month.

Sarius, surprisingly, is willing to take the fall and allow Grassley to bear the consequences. But Mio won't allow it. She can't accept anyone bearing 'her' sins. She's fully become the rose bride, enduring humanity's hatred willingly. There's also a bit of subtext here as she alludes to sacrificing Suletta. She won't do that again, no matter who it is.

YO OKAY! Suletta while being questioned by Bel and Guston, drops her clone origins super casually. No spite or outward grief either. Just yeah, Mom won't care what I say because she only loves Eri. That's rough buddy.

Surprise! The SAL confiscated a never before seen or mentioned Gundam from Vanadis. And it just so happens to be a monstrous one without a permet filter I'll admit, very confusing for me at first watch. I couldn't figure out why they sprung this without any foreshadowing, but after days I have an inkling.

I'll be frank. I'm not sure why I like Belmeria. She's super pathetic. Just an absolute failure at life with the mental fortitude of toilet paper. But she's pitiable, clearly grieving, and guilty she did not perish at Folkvangr. Has done terrible things as 5lan would attest, but she's still weirdly likable. Like an aunt who everyone hates at family reunions but they're nice to you and make good cookies. Maybe it's just me

Aaaand the suppression of Benerit was swiftly canceled. Lol. QZ can't be stopped now that Prospera has assumed direct control and destroyed every threat to her daughter's eternity.

I did note QZ looks blatantly like a coffin, which considering the Utena parallel has interesting implications. Read this post here to see my musings. It's not a dire thing imo.

Did a huge number on Mio's psyche unfortunately, which I think is the true tragedy. Red shirts got nothing on babygirl. Gotta double down on those swords piercing her with guilt and misplaced hatred. I'm marveling at what they're doing with the Utena intertextuality even as I bleed for Mio's state of mind. She's so fragile now

Yay Chuchu and gang are coming along to fetch Calibarn! Wait, that might be bad. Oh well, Earth House has been crazy lucky so far. Hopefully it'll hold. I will actually lose it if any of them die.

And we have 5lan suddenly deciding to go. I have some thoughts about why, which I've discussed in another post, but for now let's assume he's telling the truth and only wants to leave. He's an interesting character and bounces well off any cast member so it's cool with me. I enjoyed him going out of his way to apologize for harrassing Suletta.

Lauda Lauda Lauda... don't you know anyone who threatens Mio gets Suletta slapped. It's happened three times now and two of them were fatal. He's just gonna get someone killed, and it won't be Mio. I know we see him staring at Schwarzette but I don't think he would need to or have the ability to pilot it. Mio isn't a pilot, so I suspect he'll attack her with more practical means. Could be wrong ofc! This show loves twists and curveballs.

I am eager to see what the rest of this cour has in store for us!

[shesalittlelost]

Alucard simply can't catch a break can he? Mom gets murdered, dad goes insane and literally unleashes hell on earth. Can't even grieve now, has to murder his father to save humanity, his besties leave he's all alone and sad, his new friends who he trusted try to murder him in his sleep and then one day when he's just trying to help the humans, a lunatic leads a horde of night creatures and Death itself into his home to drag his mother and father's souls from the afterlife and fuse them into a cursed humanoid form right before his eyes in his childhood room that his parents had painted for him. Oh god give my boy a break!

[mysterycharacterbracket]

Season 2, Round L6, Poll #5

Character 37:

eats people

his source media has a curious grammatical error that results in multiple potential interpretations

he can fly

ugly representation

Character 78: he was abandoned by his mother when he was like 3 and ended up raised as a child soldier in what was essentially a cult. then he got kidnapped by his stepmother and ended up at ANOTHER CULT, eventually making his way back to the original cult. except then Bad Things Happened so he had to leave, and though he does make friends and get character development everything goes to hell when his best friend dies. he grieves for a few days then gets a message that says his friend is in fact still alive and was resurrected, so he spends the next few months searching for him. he doesn't find anything and goes to boarding school to try and live a normal life, his girlfriend breaks up with him, and then he gets dragged back into his old Fantasy Book Teenage Protagonist Life and gets killed in the most dramatic insane way possible, via getting stabbed by an evil immortal thousands-of-years-old capitalist.

[air3d3lalm3na]

About to see my goddamn horrible to deal with grandfather. Whose actions were the direct cause of all this happening to us. For the first time in years.

Fuck him. Dealing with this is going to be a nightmare.

At least it'll be a dinner. He's letting me choose. For both of our birthdays as we did not see each other when they happened. He's nearly ninety, now....

PTSD central. He will want to rehash the entire past five years since he left. Reliving all of this will be hell for me.

Then act like a literal child when told even in a mild, controlled, "white collar profressional talking to a preschooler" level of self-censorship, that he had anything to do with any of it. Or even if he MISREADS it that way. i.e. After she passed, he asked me on the phone "Where do you live now?" I told him, "Didn't she tell you? I thought you knew..." He instantly went off the handle in offense and told me "not to be that way" and when I told him he was being huffy out of nowhere and I didn't understand why, he used the 5 year oldstyle "no you're being huffy" even though I sounded calm.... I told him I was not dealing with this, and texted that I needed real support right now, and if he wanted to support me then I would appreciate it. Setting basic expectations and need for respect. THEN HE SHUT ME OUT AND DIDN'T SPEAK TO ME FOR A FUCKING MONTH. WHILE I WAS GRIEVING MY MOTHER.

This man is insane and I'm a saint for agreeing tot his. And only do it because 1) family matters to me and 2) he's not as overtly sociopathic + cold + evil as his two other kids and 3) he's so old and I don't want to miss chances to see him before he passes.

I just hope I can not ave to deal with being inundated with repetitions of whatever he throws at me thanks to my OCD...all day on my fucking day off and all week/month/whatever the fuck.

I hate being the only adult (emotionally speaking) in my family. On either side. I fucking hate it.