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#does this count as fanart LMFAO
star-ar512 · 2 months
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rererereiii-151 · 4 months
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throws this into the void and runs 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️ (gimme gimme ideas to draw ongong)
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kindaasrikal · 2 months
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For the art request, Cole or maybe kai. Pls
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Both. Both is good. Both is great.
I made Cole look like a GIANT NEXT TO KAI 😭
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cardtowers · 2 months
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me n the bestie playing dress to impress
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lowkeyrobin · 7 months
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Heyy :) Can you please write headcanons of dating quackity, but in his earlier eras? (like 2019-21 maybe) ❤
ooooo yes of course!!! ; fun fact I've been watching him since 2018 or so (I don't mean this in a "Oh I'm cooler than you way) ; thank you for the request!! this was fun as hell ; I tried to kinda do it in a chronological order but yeah, I did like stuff and then more details of relationship if that makes sense yk???
QUACKITY ; 2019-2021 era
warnings ; language, talk of drugs, jokes about sex
genre ; fluff
word count ; 858
masterlist
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Raiding Club Penguin with him and Axel was a core memory for you. It was the first true time, however cringe it sounds, that you saw Alex as your best friend.
he'd always try to make you laugh, especially on stream
such a little tease
back in the olden days, we had those Discord server 'wtf is that food' videos
you guys rank some of them and how likely you'd eat them
also ranking Discord memes
so many of them were dumb shit or weird shipart from like 2015 deviantart LMFAO
"guys I know me and y/n are dating but that doesn't mean compare us to Shrek couples!"
"I thought Thanos was your true love?"
"He-He is! Oh my God, stop being so desperate, y/n. ugh"
once he got invited to the Dream SMP, you were all ears and proudly taught him how to play Minecraft
you made his alt skin with the tuxedo, which he didn't wear often, but used in lore some time later
youd often help him with lore ideas
he also got you invited into the SMP where he introduced you to some of his new friends
you knew schlatt and some others, but most of these people were new and it was nice meeting all of them
the fiances are established and then you and quackity are already a think and you also like karl, which creates a weird love rectangle with an open end because you and sapnap are sharing the other two 💀
lore goes fuckin crazy with that
while Karl's off making Kinoko Kingdom and Quackity's running Las Nevadas, you're building El Tropicana, off in the far away jungle biome
Alex would usually stream and translate Mexican soap operas, which you joined in for sometimes
you'd give the characters different voices and twist their words up a bit to make it more entertaining for chat
the amount of drug talk that went into that was wild
also the amount of queer kids bullied in those schools?? yikes on bikes
also the one with that girl who got in trouble for kissing a boy on the playground or whatever that was?? Jesus christ man
youd both act put the scenes on occasion and use Tiger as whatever kid was being yelled at if she was in the room with you
taking a break halfway through stream for him to play guitar and for you to karaoke to fuckin Bo Burnham
also making fake joints out of paper he had laying around and "lighting them up" aka setting paper on fire next to a PC and your faces
Jackbox streams with the Feral Boys until 3am>>>
Paranormal Activity in the middle of the night went so fucking crazy
teaching Bad how to play GTA is your favorite memory with those two
playing horror games and watching him play horror games with Karl while he visited him
how dare he leave you all alone (you couldn't go because you had a busy schedule)
your chats shipping the hell out of you and your dsmp characters
hella fanart and fanfictions man
try not to laugh streams where you always ended up laughing before the ten minute mark because of him
he purposefully does shit to make you laugh
reading fanfiction on stream was a regular activity especially for y/s/n
youd rank the book on a scale from one to ten and how accurate to real life they were
"nahhhh that one doesn't have enough Thanos, two out of ten"
"yknow what... were gonna have our own tier lists... okay?"
"damnit... does this mean I'm not getting laid later?"
"what"
promoting the quackityhq merch religiously
also stealing whichever beanie he wasn't wearing, either the LAFD one or the plain black and blue one
him tying you to a chair and forcing you to laugh was a common stream plot
tweets that were either very inconspicuous about drugs, very sexual, or very old married couple vibes
youd both be frequently trending on twitter
hot wings or dare streams with Bad >>>>
playing girls go games and hoping you wouldn't give his PC a virus
sitting in the inflatable pool fully clothed, playing with children's bath toys
he'd for sure be the type to fall for his best friend
whether it be all the way back then or just now, he could go forever without feeling any feelings but one day they'll show up and the nervousness begins
he'd lend you a hoodie if you were cold in his room and he just straight up begs you to keep it
lots of just staring at you while chat ships you, like genuinley just zones out on your pretty face
would probably doubt his feelings at first and talk to his mom about it and she's like "boy you have a crush. Go ask them the hell out, you're a handsome young man, I'm pretty sure they like you too"
"mOooOooOoOoM"
genuinley spoils you with no good reason and after a while you just accept it
he starts sending good morning and good night texts
he'll repost (or reblog) (he has a secret tumblr) fanart of you two, especially if it's shipart
will constantly send you clips of movie characters making out or kissing and say "this should be us"
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ambrosialdesire · 3 months
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OMG i would like to request yandere bertolt x paradis reader.you can pick whatever part of the timeline you want, maybe he managed to survive to take her to marly, or maybe she just tried to escape on marly or paradis, or maybe he just kidnapped her I don't really care
Thank you
desiderate
18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI
pairing: s4 bertolt x fem!reader word count: 9.5k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, some explicit sexual content, s4 bertolt au, implied non-con, violence, kidnapping mention, stalking, forced kissing (kinda dubcon), slight groping, kinda masochistic bertolt, cigarette usage/smoking, blood kink, knife kink, slight voyeurism, male masturbation mention, panty jerking off mention (?), slight body mutilation, scarification implications, all characters are 18+ synopsis: they've brought you here on this foreign land, a land that was once believed to be completely overrun with monsters. you've been living pretty easy with this new life of yours but it's hard to forget about what he's done to your old home. this singular man, capable of complete destruction despite his nervous demeanor. there may be humans here but the true monster still remained, watching your every move until he was ready to strike. a/n: IM NGL IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO REQUEST BERTOLT LMFAO i made bro a creep cause i feel like between bertie and reiner, bertie definitely has the tendency to be lurking and stalking behind corners and constantly following you and finding to opportunity to snatch your underwear to jerk off into LOL the reference that i used for s4 bertolt is this fanart that was used in a tiktok edit but i have no idea who made the art and it's making me scream bc it's definitely how i imagine what he looks like (but with thicker chin stubble) and i want to give the right creds (if you look up s4 bertolt/bertholdt fanart on google and see a tiktok image of him smoking, that's what i'm talking about but i want to give actual creds to the artist) also mb on the smoking scenes idk how it feels to smoke but i do sorta know the distinct smell of it this is also in no way connected to the cacoëthes series just to let yall know hehe i hope you enjoy this anon! thank sm for your request!! and sorry for the wait LOL note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚.───
"Call off your damn hound Reiner, I'm getting sick of his shit."
Pushing past the blond as you entered his home, you made your way to his dining table. You huffed as you sat down, leaning back against the chair as your boot-covered legs kicked up on the wooden table. Reiner rolled his eyes, pushing them back down to the ground with a heavy thud. He crossed his arms, leaning on the wall adjacent from where you sat.
"A hello first would suffice. What's Bertolt getting himself into again?"
"My business!" Exasperated, you threw your hands over your face. "He keeps fucking following me and it's starting to freak me out. You guys know I'm not suspicious anymore, there's no way for me to be able to contact Paradis Island at all."
Saying your old home's name had started to feel foreign on your tongue unfortunately. It's been over four years since you've been whisked away by these two assholes and living here has been nothing but a thorn on your side. You worked under the Warrior Unit, mostly a simple soldier for both Bertolt and Reiner to boss around for basic things. It's nothing different from your time as a scout but it's frustrating working for them instead of with them.
You don't know why they took you away with them instead of breaking out their other accomplice, Annie, but after a handful of screaming, punching, kicking, and biting from you, they managed to drag you off to the boat. You stayed there for an estimated week or so with random strangers coming and going, poking and prodding at you as if you were one of Hange's experiments on Eren and randomly caught Titans.
The two of them finally came back one random night unconscious, battered and beaten to the point where their Titan healing powers couldn't even help them fast enough. You needed them alive — how else were you going to manage escaping this unknown place of theirs — so you helped tend to their wounds, staying at their sides until they were finally awake.
Once they were conscious enough, you punched Reiner square on the nose, spinning around to smash your knuckles right into Bertolt's cheek. Your hand was throbbing in pain but the burning fury you felt was stronger. By the time they woke up, the boat already was leaving the docks, and now you were most likely already miles away from home.
"You fucking assholes."
Blood was dripping down his nose, while a cut just barely formed on the bruised skin of the other. It was in vain however. Steam was steadily coming out of the two of them, meaning that the healing was back in working condition.
"FUCK! I didn't even say anything yet!" Reiner scowled as he placed his hands around his nose, snapping it back in place with a nauseating crack.
Bertolt laid there quietly however, lanky fingers brushing against the welt on his face but he was unable to meet your stare. Tears started streaming down your face, your body crumpling to the floor. You were completely hurt, you trusted these two like they were family, especially Bertolt. Was he really who you thought he was? How could they do this to you? To everyone back in Paradis?
"Why? Why me?"
The two of them fell even more silent, Reiner looking up at the ceiling while Bertolt closed his eyes shut as if he was the one that was currently going through it.
"Well say something goddamnit! Why am I here?" You were beyond angry, voice crackling from how loud you were screaming at them. "Tell me!"
Bertolt finally opened his eyes, pale green staring into yours. You couldn't see him. There was only the Colossal Titan looking down at you as if you were nothing but an insignificant speck on the wall. He opened his mouth, uttering remorselessly one phrase that made you even more resentful of their entire beings.
"I'm sorry."
Now you were here after long months of being processed and interviewed over and over by many Marleyan higher-ups, eventually and finally gaining their trust. You knew they still didn't like you but who really gives a shit, they left you alive and that's all you could be grateful for.
Since you directly worked underneath the two Titan shifters, they were able to get you housing and some basic supplies for you to be able to function properly in their society, as well as a good amount of pocket money to buy whatever you needed. You didn't go out of the house for a month though, still horribly and rightfully angry at them. You were also afraid of the idea that you'd get mobbed immediately once you stepped out and killed on sight by the locals.
Bertolt was the one that finally knocked on your door, tired and baggy eyes focused on the peephole. Part of you wanted to keep the door closed and ignore his presence, but he might report you or something stupidly petty. When you opened it up, the faint waft of bitter tobacco invaded your senses, nose wrinkling at the unfamiliar smell.
As you looked up at him, he felt and looked even more like a stranger than a past friend. It's only been a month but it looked like he had gotten broader at the shoulders and taller. He was wearing a beige uniform, a white undershirt and black tie peeking out of the chest of the long, belted trench coat. His black hair was partially pushed back with gel, slightly being more grown out from the last time you saw him. The way he held himself now in Marley was completely different from Paradis, an eerie calmness surrounding his person. He used to hunch into himself when he was a trainee and a soldier, but now his back was rigid and straight, arms hidden neatly behind his back. The posture reminded you of the utmost dedicated soldiers in the Scout Regiment.
"You haven't been going to work." He softly spoke, his head slightly tilting to the side.
"So?"
"Failure to comply means termination. Termination means you'll get kicked out of Marley. Getting kicked out of Marley means death." Alright, straight to the point. Even the way he was speaking sounded different, as if he had suddenly gained a newfound confidence that was only present here in his homeland.
"You guys really thought I was able to function properly in a new continent where everything is different in a few months? Not to mention, I'm still pissed off at the two of you but fine. I'll come in tomorrow. Goodbye." You proceeded to close the door on him but he stopped it with his boot. Groaning under your breath, you tried pushing at the door so he could back off, but it was to no avail.
His hand grabbed the side of the door and heaved it open with little struggle, letting himself in as you toppled back into the ground from the force.
"You haven't been going out at all. When's the last time you bought groceries?" You flinched, avoiding his judging gaze. How did he know?
"Last month." You muttered as you got up from the ground, brushing yourself off.
Bertolt sighed, glancing off to the side. "Okay. I'll wait here for 15 minutes. Go get dressed and get your money, I'll help you navigate the markets."
You didn't want to but food was definitely running low, and you don't know how long the canned meat in your pantry was going to last in your anger-riddled protest. You made your way upstairs, rummaging through the closet and grabbing the cleanest clothes you were able to find and put on within the time limit he gave. Making your way back down, you found him in the exact same spot, his eyes glancing around the living room.
"Alright. Let's go and we're going to make it quick. I don't think I can stomach standing next to you for this long." You bitterly grumbled, moodily pulling the door open. Bertolt followed after, closing the door for you and taking the lead. What sucked even more was how quickly you had to dash after him, his steps being too large for you to have a steady pace next to him. Maybe him being a near giant compared to a normal person — you noticed as the two of you walked through crowds of people — was thanks to the Titan DNA.
Each passerby gave you a look as you walked on through but never spared a second glance, which was good. You knew that you were an unfamiliar being, a foreigner that was never supposed to be here in the first place. The farmer's market was still open, vegetables and fruits neatly lined up in each stall. He did most of the talking, being able to haggle easier due to his status and the blaring armband that wrapped around his upper arm. You didn't like having to be publicly labeled, it felt like you were merely a product rather than a person.
You were focusing on a stall with jars of honey and jams when some person suddenly shoved you aside with their shoulder, body suddenly losing its balance due to the amount of groceries you were holding on one arm. You prepared for the impact of the cobbled ground but never felt it, instead feeling a firm hand snug in-between your curve of your side and another on your shoulder.
"Careful now." You opened your eyes, meeting his in shock once he steadied you back on your feet. Bertolt's face soon turned to a bright red, his hands quickly leaving you, and his gaze glancing away. Perhaps there really is still some semblance of the man you knew in your homeland.
"Th-thanks..." Adjusting the bag stiffly back up your arms, you proceeded forwards without him, leaving him behind at the stall. It became a usual thing eventually, he'd come over every two weeks to make sure you were fine and the two of you would go out buying your necessities for an hour or two. It didn't erase the fact that you still hated them, but at least he was helping you get comfortable in this strange new world.
You finally started going to work as promised, wearing an awkward and stuffy white uniform that made even the tangling straps of the cadet uniform pale in comparison. According to the paper that came with the uniform, you were to report to Reiner and Bertolt in one of the headquarters' rooms. However, the details were so vague that you were completely lost in the beginning, roaming the hallways without a clue where you were heading.
"Soldier. Face me."
You stiffened, turning around and straightening up. The tall man was vaguely familiar, a full blond beard lining his face and round spectacles hiding his eyes. His right hand raised up as if he was saying hello and you quickly returned the gesture, somewhat remembering that it was their version of a salute.
"Name and ranking?"
"Y/N L/N, er... I'm not sure of my ranking sir. I just know I'm assigned to work for the Vice Captain and one of the Warriors?" You shuffled your feet awkwardly and he nodded, gesturing his hand for you to follow him. He started scratching his ear as he walked, as if he was in thought. To you, he really felt familiar but you couldn't quite place where the feeling belonged.
"Ah yes," His eyes glanced at you, the blue color peeking out from behind the glasses. "Now I remember. You're Reiner and Bertolt's human souvenir from the devil island, aren't you?"
Is that what they called you? And how dare he call your home a devil island! A bubble of anger was rising within you, but you didn't want to take it out on the older man that was helping you find your way. He had to be a higher-up based on his demeanor and you'd rather not get in more trouble.
"...Yes sir, I am."
"You were supposed to be here a month ago." You cringed internally but nodded slowly.
"It's my fault sir. I've only been here for a few months and everything is too... new. I hope my absence didn't affect anything." The man simply hummed, stopping at a door with the words 'WARRIORS UNIT' neatly carved into the wood. You pulled the door for him, letting him saunter in before you entered.
"I found your little pet, you two." His hand pressed against the small of your back, pushing you forwards towards a table where the two of them sat. They looked completely exhausted and were partially bandaged up, quietly sparing a glance at you with a short wave.
You settled yourself in-between them, about to thank the man for helping you but he was already stepping away, going outside to light up a cigarette.
"Don't mind Zeke, he's just... eccentric like that. Hope he didn't offend you." Reiner pushed a pile of papers towards you to sort once you turned back to them, saying something about piling them from who sent them; the important files being from the commander and the Marleyan superiors and the unimportant files being from other soldiers. It slowly dawned on you that you became some sort of assistant to them, a glorified secretary for their war schemes.
"It's nothing too difficult, you're lucky to get this kind of work compared to us and the other Eldian soldiers." Bertolt slightly smiled, continuing to read a paper in his hands and you sighed quietly, beginning to sort. Part of you was grateful you didn't have to face war anymore, but the other part didn't want to be treated differently. Maybe the Marleyans thought that you'd defect once you were on the field or kill as many as you can with a weapon in your hands, going out in a blaze of glory. You never held a gun before though and it was most likely that everyone in this military could shoot you down before you could aim it at one person.
An hour or two passed by and you finished up the sorting, neatly tapping them together. It really wasn't a difficult task at all, were they going to make you do something else for today? You quietly waited for any orders, the two focused on their own thing until Reiner suddenly got up.
"I'll go get lunch for us. Y/N, you can relax for now, there's nothing else we need from you today. Good work." He ruffled the top of your head playfully, just like he did before after a training session in the corps. The blond soon left the room, leaving only Bertolt and you alone.
The two of you sat in silence, your hands fiddling with the seams of your uniform. Was sorting the only thing you're going to be doing during your time here? You'd quit within the month if that was the case but if not, maybe in due time you'll save enough money to open up your own shop. You've always wanted to sell clothing back in Paradis, just like your mother and father.
"You look good in the uniform." Bertolt finally mumbled out, the sound of a paper flipping over barely making it audible. You slightly flushed at the comment, diverting your attention to the closest wall in sight.
"Really? I feel like a wet cotton ball, it's so uncomfortable. The scouts uniform is way better." You grumbled, tugging at the cloth around your legs.
He slightly laughed at that, shaking his head. "No way. The scouts uniform was too tight, not to mention the straps were always so difficult to put on."
"Maybe it's cause you're a literal giant compared to everyone there. I just know they had to customize a whole other set for your ass." He snorted and started laughing, dropping the paper in his hand. You couldn't help but let out a few chuckles as well, crossing your arms together. The two of you bantered for a little bit longer and just for a second, it felt like you were right back home in the training corps canteen.
Everything fuzzed out in your hearing and you soon found yourself comparing home to here. The smells were different, not quite fresh as the countryside air and had a more smoky tone with every breath you took. The sights were different, more machinery was seen rather than grassy fields and trees. The people were different, there was no one recognizable to chat with besides your kidnappers. Everything here had entirely evolved and you were being forced to adapt to it. The realization made you feel a drop in your stomach, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.
"Bertolt."
"Hm?"
"I want to go back home." Your voice was meek, heavy droplets falling down and staining the white fabric beneath you. His body stiffened and he got up from his chair, almost slamming it into the table when he pushed it in.
"This is your home." He responded coldly, a singe of irritation trailing off his words as he left the room, slamming the heavy door shut. You started to sob quietly, tightly holding onto the sides of your sleeved arms.
No it wasn't, and Bertolt knew it too.
‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’
Your work schedule was simple: Monday to Wednesday from 9:30 am to 6 pm, you served the Warrior Unit. Every other day, you could do whatever you wanted and that was that. The pay was pretty good for a livable wage, but nothing special. No task you were given from Reiner or Zeke was too difficult either, it was usually just sending out letters to their superiors or sorting anything they wanted you to sort. To be honest, it felt like they were just tolerating you since the Marley government didn't want to deal with you anymore. It sucked but it's better than being belly-up in the ocean.
You haven't tried to make amends with Bertolt after that day because one, it was his fault so why would you apologize anyways and two, he hasn't been around that often in the office space. Reiner explained to you that there will be days, sometimes weeks or months where some or none of them will be here. Apparently when they came back with the failure to retrieve the Founding Titan, the loss of Annie and her Titan, and the inability to capture Eren's special Titan, some nations came together and declared war on Marley.
"Hopefully it won't be so often that we're going to be gone for long. Wouldn't want to have you sit at home and do nothing." Reiner teased with a slight nudge against your arm before downing his glass of liquor.
"I do nothing even when working. Maybe I'll pick up some new hobbies when you guys are gone, like knitting or cross-stitching."
Maybe you can give the creations to your neighbors since you were just doing it for fun. One of them is an expectant mother and since you had moved in, she had been nothing but kind to you. It would be nice to give something to her in return.
"Alright grandma." You elbowed his side hard, rolling your eyes. He grunted and started rubbing the affected area, grumbling under his breath about your temper.
"Where's Bertolt? Aren't you guys inseparable?" He suddenly cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. Back in the training corps and the short time in the Survey Corps, you've rarely seen the two separated. Wherever Reiner went, Bertolt followed suit.
"Probably caught up in something. He'll be here soon, he never cancels without notice." He waved his hand dismissively and you thought none the wiser, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass before taking a swig.
"Already missing him?" You suddenly choked on the liquor, throat burning at the sensation. No way. No way in hell, you'd ever miss him. He could get swallowed up by another Pure Titan and you wouldn't even bat an eye. You'd laugh instead, basking in the blood that would gush out of his torn corpse.
Before you could even say anything back, a soft voice popped into the conversation. "Missing who?"
The two of you turned and there stood Marley's behemoth, still dressed to the nines in his uniform. Reiner greeted him happily, ignoring the question completely, turning towards the bartender and ordering another scotch for his friend. Bertolt settled right next to you, taking the glass in his hand and drinking up the entire thing in one go, some liquid spilling out of the corner of his lips. He quickly wiped it up with his thumb, his tongue peeking out and licking the remnants away. His cold green eyes glanced down at you suddenly, catching you staring at him.
A flush of heat went through your skin, quickly looking away to stare into your partially-full glass. The drinks kept on coming, the haze of alcohol filling everyone's systems. You were the least intoxicated, slowly taking in the new attitudes and information from your drunk companions. It wasn't much but they became more chatty, opening up about their lives before Paradis.
"I joined because of my mother." Reiner moved his glass towards the bartender, his head leaned up against his arm as he watched the brown liquid fill up his cup.
"Oh yeah?" He nodded, taking a sip from the newly refilled glass before speaking once more.
"She had high hopes that our family would've been whole again. Me, her, and my father. He's, uh—" He cleared his throat, turning his attention towards you. A faint dust of pink rested on his cheeks, a cheeky smile growing. "He's a Marley-blooded man, so y'know... I'm not really supposed to..."
"Exist." You muttered as you finished his sentence and he let out a soft laugh, nodding lightly before downing his drink again.
"Harsh, but more or less, you could say that's it. Compared to me though," The black-haired man closed his eyes, huffing softly. "Bertolt here is more tragic."
Curious but puzzled, you turned your attention towards him, his hand running through his gelled locks and he mumbled something under his breath before taking a shot. You did wonder a bit about how this man turned out to be the worst attacker on Paradis Island's humanity, it felt sickening thinking about a sweet little boy being trained into a horrid monster.
"You know I hate talking about it Reiner." The blond snorted, turning on his chair and leaning back on the bar's counter.
"C'mon. Let her in on your situation, after all—" He stood up, walking over to him and placing his hand over his shoulder, leaning in close to his ear that you almost barely caught what he said.
"You owe her that much."
Reiner made his way to the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone once more together. The thought of trying to decipher what he meant flew past your inebriated mind and so you sat in silence, instead thinking that you might as well make your way home now. It was probably already past midnight, and you were sure that you were waking up late with a massive headache. As you finalized your decision, turning in your stool and towards the door without a goodbye, the thump of glass hitting wood snapped you out of it.
"I was raised only by my dad." Bertolt started and you slowly turned back towards the counter, your full attention on him.
"Don't know what happened to my mom, he never really told me and I was never curious enough to ask. It was just the two of us for as long as I knew but even as a kid that could barely read, I knew that he wasn't... okay." His fists clenched together and you could hear the cracks of his joints from how tightly he was gripping.
"When you're born an Eldian and live in the farthest parts of the internment camps, medicine is hard to get by and treatment is even more difficult to obtain. The minute I became eligible to join, I took the opportunity." You don't know what compelled you in the moment, but you placed a hand on one of his fists. He started relaxing once he realized that you were touching him, still stiff as he reminisced further.
"Did they give him the meds?" Bertolt nodded, taking in a shallow breath.
"A few days right after I inherited the Colossal, they started giving him everything they promised and he was getting better day by day. It wasn't until I left for our mission in Paradis that his condition evolved into something worse." You swallowed nervously, slipping your fingers into his and holding his massive hand gently. His head turned towards you, his eyes soft as he looked into your gaze.
You've never seen or heard him be so vulnerable before, guilt forming in the pit of your stomach. For him, he was fighting a one-sided war against your home, all because he wanted to take care of his dad. Yet in return, he caused the displacement of so many from their families, ripping them apart with a few kicks into the walls.
"When Zeke came on Paradis and we finally met up, I asked him about my dad and he told me that despite all the medicine and treatment that he's been getting, he wasn't getting any better. I had to see him again, no matter if I had failed the original mission or not. I couldn't die on that island without being able to see him again and I just barely made it. Sometimes the way we escaped made me wonder how I even made it out of there. It was only for a few months that I got to spend with him once we came back, but he passed away in his sleep last month."
His hand tightened around yours, though not enough to break it. No wonder he started to look more disheveled and exhausted recently, his whole reason for getting where he is was now gone. You pitied him but that didn't excuse the murders of thousands he did in your homeland. At the same time, it didn't mean that you should bring that major fact up, not when he was currently grieving.
"I'm sorry Bertolt."
"It's alright, you don't have to pity me. I have more to be sorry about towards you and the others. I'll never be able to properly make it up, nothing I'll ever do will be enough to wash away the blood on my hands."
The two of you sat there in silence, a warm hand around one cold hand. You really should leave now, before Reiner comes back and you'll be stuck drinking even more than you wanted to. You attempted to finally slide off the wooden seat, but he clenched your hand gently and tugged you towards him instead. Your eyes fluttered in both confusion and tiredness as you stood in front of his sitting frame. Blinking once, his face appeared right in front of yours. His free hand slid behind and rested against the nape of your neck, feeling thin but calloused fingertips tenderly brush against the skin as he pulled you even closer.
Okay... this was getting a little too weird for your liking. Beginning to open your mouth to verbalize your annoyance and trying to move back, he then took the opportunity to press his lips against yours.
You could taste the alcohol that the three of you had been previously been consuming intertwine with the tobacco's bitterness of the cigarettes he used, a vagueness of something sweet brushing up against your tongue as he tried to coax you into returning the action. His stubble was rough against your skin the more he moved, digging deeper as he pressed further into your mouth.
You had half the mind to bite that damn muscle of his, but the warmth of both the alcohol and him was stupefying, hypnotizing. It felt like you were melting against him, a warmth pooling in your stomach and in-between your thighs. Slowly, you convinced yourself to return the kiss, gravitating into his embrace. It was stupid of you to do considering you hate the guy but hey, who doesn't do stupid shit every now and then? Fuck, you even started wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders.
There wasn't much people in the bar anyways, either too drunk off their minds to care or simply ignoring the disgusting couple intertwining themselves in the public space. The bartender was off chatting with another patron, most likely used to the sight of a couple making their passion uncomfortably known to others. It's the Colossal Titan user, who on Marley dared tried to say something about it?
The hand that once was holding yours, grabbed at the crook of your back to draw you even more impossibly near him, then sliding down towards the curve of your ass. To your utmost surprise, he clutched and squeezed at the flesh firmly, feeling you up with this sudden confidence that you would never thought of him having before.
"Annie."
Sobriety hit you like a cold bucket of water splashing onto you once you heard her name slip through his swollen lips, taking no time to immediately shove the man right off of you. He just told you his story, that his dad had just died last month, and here he was, kissing and groping you and then suddenly calling out Annie's name. You were breathing hard, eyes wide as saucers as you stared down at him in shock.
"What the fuck? What the fuck!?"
Bertolt's hand reached out to you, as if he was trying to make you lift him back up. You've never felt so nauseated to hear those very words come out of his lips as a valid apology, like it was no big deal.
"I love you."
You ran.
You ran out of the bar, into the blackened sea of night, never once looking back. If you did, you were afraid of what you might see in his eyes or if he was chasing after you. With tears lingering in the corners of your eyes, one single thought remained.
Out of everyone in the squadron, why did it have to be him?
‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’
For a month and a half the day after what happened, you never saw Bertolt in the office or around the internment zone.
It was probably the first time him and Reiner were ever separated for this long, the blond telling you that it was his own decision to be sent off into the battlefield alone. You wondered if he told him what he did to you after he came back from the bathroom, or excused why he was on the floor and why you were gone. Reiner never said anything about the incident, so it soon faded in the back of your mind into obscurity.
He wasn't your first kiss anyways, some now-dead nobody trainee back in the day was, and the two of you were drunk, stupid shit happens. Part of you also somewhat knew about Bertolt's fondness for the Female Titan user, originally not knowing about how close they were previously, but damn it. For a heated moment to be ruined like that left a sour taste in your mouth, and you couldn't help but hate him even more for it.
"He's back."
"Who?" Reiner's fist came down on the top of your head playfully, catching your attention from the paperwork.
"Y'know who. Better talk to him now before he passes out from exhaustion from the looks of it. Also, because I know you miss him~" He teased and you swatted his fist off of you, watching him as he walked off towards the main room laughing, leaving you with a pit in your stomach. You really didn't want to talk to him, even if a month had passed on by, but legally, he was your superior. Professionalism before personal feelings unfortunately.
You finally got up, walking slowly to the destination before taking in a deep breath and entering the medical unit. Bertolt was near an open window, a lit cigarette lazily nestled in-between his fingers as he stared out of it. He was the only person there and you swore that every time you saw him, he started to look more unrecognizable from his previous cadet days. His hair wasn't slicked back anymore, falling at the front of his eyes; in fact, you thought it might've grown out a little more from the last time you saw him. The Titan marks were still prominent on his face, like he had just transformed not long ago.
Wiping your clammy hands on your puffy uniform, you approached him, pulling up a chair nearby the bed and sitting down stiffly.
"Welcome back sir."
His head turned towards you and you swore that you felt the room grow colder as he gazed into you through the black strands of his messy hair. Maybe you were the only one that noticed, but his eyes were dead, hollow but still held some sharpness in those pale green irises. This was no longer the Bertolt you knew, this was a numbed man that got mentally thrown and torn apart in the arms of the constant war, the constant transforming, and the constant murder of many.
"Hit me."
"E-excuse me?" He must’ve gotten faster because you didn't realize how quickly he grabbed you until he pushed the palm against his healing skin. It was burning to the touch, as if you were right next to a blazing bonfire. Instinctively, you started to try and wiggle out of his grip but he held steady.
"Hit. Me." Bertolt's grip grew stronger around your wrist, fear creeping in through every cell in your body as you watched the surrounding skin pale from how hard he was holding. "That's an order."
You swallowed but nodded quickly in agreement, just so he can let go of you before any bones shatter. He immediately released you straight away, the action as fast as he previously took ahold of you and took a hit of the nearly burnt out stick. You had to hype yourself up for it, thinking back on every rotten memory you’ve had with him, balling up your fist and striking him as hard as possible where he originally placed your hand. The force made his head swing the other way, the cigarette butt dropping on the ground as your knuckles throbbed in agony. It was like directly punching a stony wall, not like the previous time you punched him on the boat to Marley.
You let go of the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, straightening back up as you held onto your wounded hand. "And how do you feel, Bertolt?"
Bertolt’s body didn’t move, but his hand began to slowly trailing up to the injury, pressing his fingers against the forming bruise. You flinched as he pushed his hair back to where you could finally see his eyes, exhaling the smoke that he previously took in through his nostrils. He glanced over in your direction and let out a soft chuckle, although you noticed that it didn't quite reach those dull eyes of his. There was one thought that lingered in your mind as you stared back into his gaze, that he must've gone crazy fighting in the frontlines.
"Good hit, make me bleed next time." ...What? "Though, I'm surprised that you decided to visit after... what we did the last time we saw each other."
Recovering quickly from trying to process what he just said at first, you cleared your throat, crossing your arms. "The Vice Captain requested me to visit his right hand man, who am I to refuse his wishes?"
He simply hummed in response, reaching for another cigarette in his pocket and his lighter. Placing the unlit stick at the side of his mouth, his eyes caught yours once more, a slight smirk forming. "When'd you start talking like the soldiers? You forget the years we've spent together already since I've been gone, or did you finally get in trouble for treating us like equals?"
You scoffed, pulling your lips in a thin line. "You're the one that gave me an order earlier, and I've had a recent revelation that I had to start acting like a subordinate rather your friend or buddy or whatever the fuck we are, so yeah, I guess it's the latter."
"Ahh, better watch your language then or I'll have to report you for profanity against a superior." Bertolt was of course joking, the mocking tone intertwining with his words. As you felt your eyebrow twitch in annoyance, the sound of lighter clicked and ignited, your eyes watching him pull the flame near.
"Y'know..." He started as he took in a drag, leaning his head back towards the ceiling and soon exhaling the smoke out slowly. "I've been thinking about you the entire time I was gone."
A heaviness plopped itself back on your shoulders, and you wanted nothing more but to excuse yourself out of his premises. You were about to say something to leave him alone, but he kept on talking, droning on and on about how he was counting down the days when he could finally see your face again. Bertolt mentioned that you were the only reason he kept on fighting, why he kept on killing so his commanders could see that he was doing such a swell job as their loyal Titan holder and let him leave early. What a horrible ideology, most of those people could've been innocents.
"And another thing, I kept thinking back on the kiss we shared that month ago." All the color drained from your face, turning and taking a step back to try and run, but felt his hand grasp onto the fabric right against your back. His voice had the same disdainfulness as before, a demandingness that you didn't even know he had in himself to project.
"Don't leave and turn back around. That is an order."
You grit your teeth, finally turning back around once he let go of your uniform and find him standing, his tall stature hovering over you. Nervousness crawled up your spine, flinching once you felt his cold fingers reach over to caress your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes scanned your face, inspecting your features quietly before taking another drag of his cigarette. He then neared your face and press his lips against yours.
Recoiling at the abrupt kiss, you tried to push him away but the grip on your face was painfully tight, almost akin to the hold on your wrist earlier. You could do nothing but endure this assault, a slight whimper slipping out as the soreness of your face grew.
Bertolt's tongue brushed against your lips, trying to coax you into opening them. You might as well obey, just to get this over with and the fact that you were running out of oxygen at an alarming rate. Once you did, he pushed the smoke in your mouth as he deepened the kiss, the burn in your lungs and in your throat getting worse. In a panic, you bit down as hard as possible to free yourself, the taste of iron combining with the bitter nicotine. You quickly doubled over and started coughing, watching in tears as vague smoke came out of your mouth with every heave and breath.
"Ah." You peered up at Bertolt from within your teary vision, the tips of his fingers on his lips and pressing against the wound you inflicted. It was deep from what you're able to see, but already started to heal itself. Yet, that's not what at all made you run out the room in distress, almost vomiting into the bushes once you stepped foot out of the building.
You watched in mortified horror as he smeared the crimson around his lips and chin, a seemingly euphoric and satisfied expression reflecting on those pale green eyes of his. He looked down at your frozen form, crouching down and reaching over to your face with his bloodied fingers. A small whimper slipped out as he smeared the substance on your mouth, a hungry grin forming.
"Isn't this a beautiful sight? My blood on your lips, I wonder if I can make you bleed for me soon." It felt like he wasn't supposed to say it aloud, but maybe he wanted you to hear, to have a taste of what his true self was like. That thought alone made you run out, leaving him on the ground once again.
This time, you had to make sure you'd never see the sick fuck ever again.
‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’
And this brings you back to the beginning, in Reiner's home completely agitated and frightened for your life.
The past few months, Bertolt resumed his normal duties along Reiner and you; although you limited your interactions with one another, you can’t help but notice that he was following you everywhere. Not just at work, but the times where you were on your breaks, going out to eat, shopping for groceries or clothes, even in your own home; you saw him. You barely caught him sometimes, he'd disappear in a blink once you tried to get in a second glance to confirm who you saw.
He lingered behind corners, staring at you with such a frightening glimmer in those dull eyes of his. He was usually expressionless as he stared into your very soul, not a single crooked smile or the usual slight upwards curve of his eyes. Nothing, absolutely nothing. And the strangest part was that he never said a word, just... stared. Sometimes he just stood there right in the public's view, crowds of people passing besides him without a single glance towards the weirdo in their way.
There was nothing you could do about it, he wasn't technically bothering anyone and due to the internment zone being rather small, they already knew that he was associated with you. How unfair it was. You wished you could live like them, ignorant and dismissive of the monster that stood right next to them.
Him being right outside of your window was your final straw, the lamplight just barely highlighting his features as he stood in your backyard. You screamed and backed up into your dining room table once you realized that he was right against your window, pressing his hand against the glass as his breath began to fog it up. His eyes were crazed, the first time you ever saw anything in them after weeks of ignoring him. You flung the drapes over the window — as if it could do anything to protect you — before running upstairs and hiding in your closet for the rest of the night.
If he was able to sneak up on you, to be that close without you noticing… what else has he done?
"He's being a fucking creep, Reiner. If it's not him trying to figure out that I'm some kind of double-crosser, it's him being some kind of perverted stalker." He snorted at your remark and you could tell that he was not entirely convinced. You took in a shaky breath, finally putting down your foot.
"Then I would like to request that I leave the Warriors unit and work somewhere else. I don't care where and if I have to move, all I want is to never see Bertolt ever again." Reiner's expression suddenly hardened and he pushed himself off the wall, leaning on the table opposite of you. You've never seen him quite as serious until now, unease filling your stomach.
"You do realize that we cannot protect you once you leave the unit, right? The only reason you're alive still is because of us, Y/N. Anywhere else in the other units, the generals and commanders will watch you like hawks for any mistake you make, minor or not. They would use any excuse to have your head." His hand rested on your shoulder and squeezed it firmly, checking his surroundings before leaning close into your ear.
"Look. I know about Bertolt's strange behavior, trust me, I've already noticed he's been off ever since he came back from that recent excursion. I don't know if I can convince him to stop doing this to you, but I mean it when I say that you're better off staying in our unit." He then leaned back and lightly smiled for more reassurance; a part of you felt that it was the scout in him that was talking and that made you feel a little better.
"We're all you got in this world and your best chance for living. C'mon, just give him one more shot." This wouldn't be happening in the first place if you left me back in Paradis, you thought bitterly but hesitantly nodded your head.
"Okay, fine. But you better get it in his head that I don’t want him stalking me anymore or I’ll report him to General Magath and leave the unit, no matter what the consequences are." You got up and headed towards the exit, turning your head to see him slowly push in your seat. He noticed that you didn't leave yet and lifted his hand up, almost waving goodbye.
"No promises," Reiner held up his pinky, slightly wiggling it. "But I'll do my best."
You scoffed, but smiled regardless.
"Then whatever happens, it'll be on you."
The next day continued on as usual, something normal for once as both Reiner and Bertolt weren't in today. You thought that they must've gotten deployed to another war since you hadn't seen any of the other Warriors either, but you continued work as usual for your shift. Even if you weren't required to, you might as well lighten the load for you the next time around.
By the time you were done with half of the stack, you finally called it quits, seeing that the sun had began to slowly set behind the towering buildings right outside of the windows. Clocking out, you slung your satchel over your shoulder and pushed past the doors, quietly walking back to your home. Now that you started to think further during your trek, it's strange that you didn't get any notification from Reiner about their sudden leave. He'd always gave you some kind of heads-up even if you didn't ask, either through a note or in person.
Was this something so serious that not even you can know about? That would make more sense, you're technically just an underling to them, you didn't need to know more confidential information from the Marleyans as a Paradisian; not like you wanted it or had any use for it anyways. The orange glow of the sun began to fade, the sky slowly turning darker by the minute as lamplights started to flicker on right on cue.
You were so close to home that you started to pick up the pace, a feeling of anticipation running through you. It's not like you felt scared, no. This was the first time in days that you finally felt like you didn't have to look over your shoulder, the first time in months where you didn't feel like you were being watched.
In a matter of minutes, you finally reached the front door of your home. You rummaged through your bag for the keys, taking your time as you pushed through the unfortunately crowded mess. There was no need to rush anymore, not until they come back, and hopefully Reiner was able to talk Bertolt out of his abhorrent, unprofessional behavior. Letting out a happy hum as you finally found what you were looking for, you pushed in the key and turned it open, only to be greeted with a gut feeling that caused goosebumps to immediately form on your skin.
Something was wrong. Despite everything being in their right and respective places, there was something... off. Standing still at the entrance way, you scanned the environment slowly, a lump forming in your throat as they darted to-and-fro nervously. The windows were locked, you knew they were, and none of the drapes seemed to be moved or altered from their original places. There was only one entrance and to get to the backyard, you would have to take the side fence door at the outside of the resident. You almost were tempted to back out of your own house, the one place where you've considered as the safest haven from the outside. This feeling, it had to just be that you were unused to being finally left alone... right?
You finally took a step inwards, the wood creaking underneath your boot. Mentally, it felt like excruciatingly long hours had just passed by for you to get another step, internally praying that your mind won't play tricks on you from the various sounds that were occurring in the considerably old home. There's nothing or no one here, you're just being a paranoid baby.
Exhaling slowly, you finally shut and locked the front door behind you. Repeating the phrase over and over gave you confidence to continue forwards, determination in your eyes. You'd be damned if Bertolt thinks he could scare you out of your own home, you'd rather go to prison than try to stay at his home for temporary shelter.
You lost your appetite to prepare a simple dinner, now knowing that you'd prefer not to try cooking something when you've just arrived in fear for your life. However, you carefully made your way towards the kitchen, grabbing a knife out of the wooden block. The sound of the metal sliding out of its sheath may have been the loudest thing you've been currently hearing. You gripped onto the handle tightly, turning towards the stairs.
You knew you weren't alone here, the house may settle now and then, but this felt different. This was different. No matter what your brain was telling you, your gut was telling you otherwise.
Crrreeeaaakkkk...
You froze, feeling suddenly out of breath as you stared at the ceiling with wide eyes. The sound came from your room, there was no doubt about it. A memory of Bertolt trying to secretly make breakfast for you flashed into view, the sounds of pans clashing below waking you up. You should've questioned how he gotten in the house in the first place during the earlier stages of this thing of his, but you were far too hungry and tired to even notice until now.
In meticulous steps, you made your way to the staircase, trying to make sure you didn't step on the wrong board and alert the intruder of your presence. Hell, he might've already known since you unlocked the door. The hallway never felt longer than it was before as you approached the room, the moonlight shining down on you and the weapon held in your dominant hand. There was more creaking the more you came towards the door, your heart pounding in your chest in the rhythm of a thousand Abnormals sprinting towards their next delectable meal.
The door was slightly ajar, alarms ringing in your head. You never have left the doors in your room open in your life, especially when sleeping and even when you left the premises. Someone is in there and you know who it is. Taking in a deep breath, you leaned in gradually towards the crack in the door, trying to control the trembling in your hands as you peeked through.
The stench of blood first hit your nose, then the sight within nearly made you scream in horror. Bertolt was in your room, sitting on the middle edge of your bed, all bloodied from head-to-toe what you were able to tell from the street's lamps dully illuminating the surrounding room. Though that was stomach-churning in itself, the action he was performing on your bed made everything even more heinously depraved.
The bastard was fucking his fist with your panties wrapped around his cock, his pelvis erratically jutting into the tight hold he put around it. His lips were slightly parted, almost barely audible groans slipping out with every stroke. Even worse, you could hear just the cusp of your name with it, your own face growing warm.
You had to report this to General Magath, now. Burn your bed and used underwear once you got the chance to second on the list. Reiner failed, maybe even never went up to him, and now you had to take the drastic way out of this. He finally took things way too far; if not your underwear, it might’ve been you.
You took a step backwards, immediately paling as the floorboard behind you squeaked loudly under the weight. The movement from within your room paused abruptly, anxiety and dread crawling up your veins with every passing moment. The sound of the bed springs being relieved of any weight on them immediately alerted you that you needed to start running or hide until he leaves. It was too late, the door opening with a grinding, crackling noise.
"Welcome home, Y/N."
Bertolt lunged at you, instincts kicking in as you swung the knife, aiming for his throat. You knew it wouldn’t kill him, you’ve seen Mikasa do it years ago and he healed without any trace of the injury left, but it would give you enough time to get to Magath’s residence. At least, that’s what you tried to do, but he moved last minute, the blade only digging into the side of his face towards his mouth.
He was stunned by it at first, a nauseating feeling permeating within your stomach as you watched the skin and muscle separate as he opened his mouth, blood streaming down his jawline in thick streams. Then he started chuckling, pressing his hand against the wound roughly and almost pulling it apart. This was no time to stay shocked however. You took this final opportunity to run, carefully trying not to cut yourself as you made your way down the stairs.
"Y/N!!!" Oh god, oh god, oh god. You reached the entrance, turning the lock and pulling it open, the cold air of the night blasting in your face. Freedom was right there in your grasp — just right there — before a thickly drenched hand from behind grabbed ahold of you from the mouth and pulled you back inside.
You couldn’t scream as his bloodied palm held firmly down onto your mouth, tears streaming down your face as he lodged himself right between your legs. He was crazed, his pupils dilated with excitement as he stared down at your quivering form. You could the hardness straining against your uniform pants, a sob stuck in your throat. The inflicted wound on his face was obviously starting to heal, steam coming off of it.
"Good try, too bad you aren’t strong enough to even try to finish the job." He took the knife out of your hold, his blood still staining the edges. Bertolt neared it towards your throat, your body fighting back as it approached closer and closer.
"Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep moving like that." He scolded, as if he wasn’t the one with the weapon, the cold blade right against your jugular. You froze on cue, taking in sharp breaths with your nose to try and not to panic even more.
"You weren’t meant to see me uh—" His face flushed pink, scratching his uninjured cheek with his pointer bashfully. This bitch was acting like he didn’t just break in your home, committed a perverse act on your bed, and about cut your throat open. Bertolt slightly adjusted himself, rubbing his still-hard cock against you. "But it was pretty exciting, how long were you watching? Did you get excited?"
You wanted to shake your head, only flinching as you felt him unbuckle the belt, nimble fingers unbuttoning and zipping down your pants. You had no choice but to feel him slip his dirtied hand into your underwear, his fingertips pressing against your hole. A proud smile grew on his face, a vast contrast to your horrified expression as the two of you made the same realization. You’re wet.
Bertolt pulled the knife away from your neck, short relief coming out of you in waves, but he didn’t drop it or throw it aside. No. He used it to tear your uniform shirt open, a muffled yelp escaping you as the cool air made contact with your bare skin.
"We’re going to have some fun together, okay?" You felt like throwing up in his hand, hoping that you’d asphyxiate from it. Your heart stopped as you realized that he was nearing the tip of the blade on your lower stomach, right below your belly button.
"Right after I carve my name into you."
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valeffelees · 6 months
Text
An Ask Game for Writers to Procrastinate Working on Your WIP(s)
thank you kindly for tagging me @shrekgogurt @youarenevertooold, and @monbons i've been seeing this game make its rounds on my dash and was really hoping someone would pull me in!
🦈 Tell us the name of one of your WIP(s)
my main three wips at the moment are without sun, ballad of the final sparrow, which is more commonly known as bitverse, and fragile things (and how to break them), but i've also been fucking around a bit the last two or three weeks with a new (terrible, evil, very self-indulgent) wip called god-forbid.
🍄 Describe one of your WIPs in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  
i think i might be dumb bc i don't understand this question at all.
🌍 What tags or warnings will your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?
bitverse: heavy angst, psychological horror elements, alcohol abuse, allusions to suicide, unhealthy coping mechanisms, dead dove: do not eat.
🧭 An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?
ballad of the final sparrow -> baz is typing fragile things (and how to break them) -> there's a werewolf in london god-forbid -> the gap between a tragedy and comedy
⚠️ Which WIP you’re most likely to finish or update next?
i have no idea. i mean, you'd think the answer would be without sun since it's the only fic i actually have posted at the moment, but unfortunately i am an untrustworthy villain.
💾 What is the document of your WIP called? (Not the story title, but what you’ve saved it as.)
same as the fic title. if i start a new wip and don't know what to call it, i'll pick something at random and add (working title) at the end.
🖍 Post any sentence from your WIP
from without sun:
“You don’t like peppermint,” he says. But maybe she does. Maybe that’s one more thing he can add to his growing list of things he got wrong about Agatha Wellbelove. No. 1 — Dislikes peppermint; actually, she is quite fond of it. No. 2 — Likes Simon Snow; him, not so much.
♻️ A scrapped idea for your current WIP
one of the biggest changes i made to the plot of without sun really early on was penelope's role in the story. i had a clear idea of the story i wanted to tell as soon as i saw the prompt for the fic. without sun was always supposed to be about more than simon and baz. the story is about grief and love, and the space we take up in the lives of the people around us. but n e way, in my orig draft, penny was actually supposed to be able to communicate with simon a bit, and there was gonna be a whole sect of scenes in the middle of the fic where they sat around together trying to break simon's curse what we know and what we don't know style via passing notes. i ended up tossing this idea really quickly tho, and i'm glad i did bc one of my favourite moments i've ever written in any fic happens in chapter two of without sun and it belongs to simon and penny.
🤔 What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?
so many. or, well—what counts as "haven't even started"? i hate to let ideas sit around in my head bc it feels like leaving raspberries in the fridge for too long, like that shit is gonna get mould on it, so usually the first thing i do is rough out a few scenes and/or script out a very rough outline of the plot (like this / this / this style) so that i have something to come back to later. i have dozens of zero drafts just lying tf around. but otherwise, yeah, so many. one big idea i have is called heart on fire and it's based on fanart, but i haven't started it yet bc obvs i wanna get permission from the artist first but i've been holding off reaching out to them about it until i've knocked a few of my less intimidating longfics off my wip list bc heart on fire is gonna fucking hefty so i don't wanna give'r until i'm sure i can manage it.
🤡 How many WIPs are you actively working on?
LMFAO
🛠 Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?
i'm having a real bitch of a time with agatha's main scene in chapter two of without sun, i've been fighting with it on and off for months, but i can't get it to do what i want it to do.
❤️ Not a question, just a second kudos to send.
cheers!
sorry for any doubles but, tagging: @drowninginships @cosmicalart @that-disabled-princess @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @roomwithanopenfire @hushed-chorus @blackberrysummerblog @imagineacoolusername @nightimedreamersworld @prettygoododds @confused-bi-queer @mooncello and an open tag for anybody else who wants to procrastinate their wips!
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applesandbannas747 · 1 year
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does pacat rlly not care about fence anymore 😭 i feel like it’s much better than dark rise and could be better than captive prince too…it’s been a year since i last consumed anything fence-related and i really don’t understand what’s going on with the series?? but anyways i like ur fics a lot & agree with ur reviews of srb’s novels, which also could have had so much potential but ended up kind of sucking in a lot of ways.
Pacat is a mystery to me. Personally, I believe Dark Rise is his best work--it shows much better pacing than Captive Prince and gets the same impact and feel without going to such extreme and explicit horrors, which shows a lot of skill (I know CP is his most beloved series but he's improved a lot since writing it haha). What gets me is that Fence STARTED really strong and I counted it as his best work for sure. There were fun tropes and dynamics, interesting characters with a central relationship promising contention, fighting, and tension, and some fun elements in the mystery of Jesse and potential in the reveal of Nick's lineage. And you could tell there was passion in the project...but even by the later issues of the original 12-issue run, Pacat's social media reflected a large disinterest in Fence, and that disinterest has shown in the story as Fence continues to progress.
I try to logic and rationalize and analyze everything Fence related and literally every time I do I get met with 'it's not that deep' from the actual canon lmfao but I'm going to offer my rationalization anyway lmao the only reason I can think to justify Pacat's lack of interaction with Fence on Twitter besides not caring about it much is that it doesn't fit his brand. Which is only defined by two other series, but it's very much a high fantasy/historical fantasy dark romance with stomach-churning undertones and much darker themes than Fence. So I gave him that excuse for a long time. Fence doesn't fit within that brand at all, so from a marketing standpoint, it makes some amount of sense to focus more on the other franchises. However, I think this strategic thinking is giving too much credit--Fence has always had really shit marketing so either Pacat has no mind for marketing or he doesn't care to market Fence, which both get us back to the only real reason being he just doesn't care about it as much as his other things.
Do I expect Pacat to be hanging out in the Twitter FENCEtag? No. But I do think it's strange that he'll post tweets saying happy birthday to other people's books the day they come out, but literally didn't ever make a Fence Redemption announcement or say anything on the release day. The most he's done is retweet a couple things from BOOM! and 2 other outside sources. And this is regular behavior--he didn't do announcements for RIVALS or RISE either and didn't promote them at all. Yet Dark Rise gets announcements all the way along--title announcement, release date announcement, cover reveal, etc etc etc. He also posts and retweets fanart for his other 2 books really regularly, yet he didn't even retweet all of Jo's (the co-creator and illustrator of Fence) pieces for the Fence event Jo hosted in April, let alone bother with much fanart of it. There's just no reason for the vast gap in involvement and enthusiasm other than him very strongly preferring his other projects and not bothering with the effort of interacting with Fence. He'll occasionally ask culture questions (like if Americans say 'coz' for cousin or how to say something in French) but that's legitimately the best argument there is for his interest or care in the project.
And lastly, his lack of interest shows in the story. He handed his story off to someone else to write novels for and simply let her go wild without regard for how it impacted the comics or the fans. Further, Pacat lost track of his own story and characters between Volume 3 & 4 in a way that I cannot excuse as anything other than inconsistent characterization. And I know I'm biased there, but I make so many people in real life read Fence that I don't jabber at about it/pull into the fandom (so they have no knowledge of my takes), and all of them have commented on the 180 the characters made between the volumes. And, listen, if I wouldn't accept that kind of inconsistency in characterization when grading my 12-year-olds' narrative writing projects, why am I still sitting here trying to excuse the lazy/poor writing in a published and successful author? The pacing is also telling--a lot of conflict was skipped over 'off screen' between the volumes (which, say it with me folks, is lazy writing). Nick's resentment toward Seiji turned into full admiration sans any ill feelings or acknowledgment that even if he IS hot shit, he was still a major asshole in his initial conception, and Seiji apparently agreed to drop his thing about Jesse (you know, the thing that had them in a fist fight approximately 40 pages of comic before). There was no build-up to their relationship or resolution of the conflict that made it unhealthy (expect to have Nick 'admit' Seiji was right to treat him like shit...) These things push the story along a lot faster; rivals to lovers moves really fast if you skip all the tedious development of the characters getting to know, respect, tolerate, and then like each other. Pacat loves rivals/enemies to lovers and (to be blunt) mean/cold bottoms, so it is so fucking bizarre to me that he'd speedrun the relationship and change the characterization so much when it's directly moving away from his preferences (see: Captive Prince, Dark Rise). I don’t know how it happened from anything other than sheer laziness or from not caring about Fence so deeply that he let SRB overwrite the characters and romance he'd originally created.
Last, there are just SO many inconsistencies and copyedit-level mistakes. And I get it that typos happen, but it happens so much that it's like,,, are you even rereading the scripts before you throw them at your publisher? And the continuity errors are massive at this point. Seiji's year in France, which was apparently the result of his loss to Jesse, is only possible if time travel exists and also timelines exist simultaneously. How do you fuck up so big when constructing a story you care about? At least by the time it gets published, you should be sure it's READY to be published. It's like he's writing issue-by-issue as he goes with no plan and can't be bothered to skim through the previous issues to check for things.
I just can't come up with a reality where Pacat actually loves Fence when this is all the care he gives it. We are so so so lucky to have Jo--she is literally the most amazing and gives so much love and care to Fence, and it shows...I just wish Pacat's writing didn't affect her contribution to the comic too. But she at least loves Fence even if Pacat doesn't seem to tell her all that much more than he tells the rest of us LMFAO
This turned into a WHOLE messy essay, I just have a lot of thoughts and they've been brewing for years so sorry to go off on my mad ravings and thanks for tuning in XD and also!!! I'm so happy you like my fics TT.TT <33 and also that you see my point about the novels uwu
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itskeej · 1 year
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you like kissing slashers
don't you
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does this count as fanart djgdjjdf
OK but genuinely I wanted to draw you but my skills are horrible so I made this lmfao.
NO LISTEN I LAUGHED AND SMILED WHILE WAITING FOR SOME GRAD STUFF FOR MY SIBLING TO HAPPEN
Listen this is perfect and adorable and funny and I love it to PIECES AND IM SAVING IT AND SOBBING AND ARHHGHSJFHJWHDW THANK YOU ANON I am guilty as charged
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startledstoat · 10 months
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i’m literally just pointing out that people in the fandom have noticed that the apparent standard in their fanart is hourglass figure, 0% body fat, massive thigh gap lol. i am obviously not hating on those bodies (that is literally what i look like!!!), just wondering why none of their characters have any sort of meat on their bones, especially regulus who canonically looks to be at least mid-sized
with what you said about remus - i agree! my favourite fics are the ones that delve into his body image and eating disorder as a result of his lycanthropy. with regulus, i don’t like it as much, mainly because people (cough cough jegulus writers) use it as a way to be like “well yes he was a massive racist prejudiced death eater voldemort fanatic but he had an eating disorder :((((( so it isn’t his fault he needs jamie to come save his wittle self :((((“
anyways thank you for your nuanced response i do appreciate actually debating with people on here instead of people just going “SKINNYPHOBIC AND MEAN LMFAO” which is like. yes maybe i am mean but skinnyphobic?? 😭
Love that you responded nicely!
When I think of Reg with those HCs I think of the EDs going along with the trans Reg idea, stemming from his body dysphoria and also having to do with him being raised with the pressure of being an upper-class pureblood "girl" who was expected to be the picture of flawless beauty, which would've been a very toxic beauty standard for someone in that position during that time (flat stomach, thigh gap, hourglass waist, full hips and chest). This is definitely not a HC that works for everyone, expecially those who don't HC Regulus to have been abused in his childhood or don't HC him to be trans.
The addiction is a separate HC and I'm not saying your take on it is wrong but my thoughts on it are a bit different. It's more what I think would have come around the same time he started realizing that he was on the very wrong side of the war and wanted out but couldn't see a way that he realistically could get out bc Voldemort isn't a dude you just go up to like "yeah man listen we had a good run but now I'm realizing that this is so much more fucked up than I thought and now I don't wanna be part of it anymore". (I like to think that he didn't betray Voldemort just because of what happened to Kreacher, but more like his doubts and fears were building up for a while and Kreacher being tortured was just the last straw)This guilt and self loathing that would likely have ensued would have been a very slippery slope, especially when paired with the pressure of being the new heir following Sirius being disowned and their father dying as well as the trauma from his potentially abusive childhood, I think he could have turned to things like calming draughts and dreamless sleep to initially calm his nerves and moods, but then fell in too deep. And it's fine that you don't like that as much! As long as you're being respectful to the people that do, because it's not a HC that's harmful to any real life people.
His redemption arc, both the canon and the fanon parts, definitely don't just erase the fact that he was a death eater that likely tortured and killed people, but the fact that he tried to do the right thing in the end does count for something. Not to mention that he was literally a teenager that was raised in that environment and was taught nothing else until age 11 when he went to hogwarts. 11 years of one type of propoganda being taught to him, during his developmental years no less, doesn't just go away. Yeah he was 18, and as a 19 year old myself I can say that he was both old enough to have learned right from wrong as he went through school, but still young enough that it's perfectly normal for him to have been terrified of turning his back on the family he knew and outright defying a genuinely horrifying maniac that killed people for fun. 18 is still a child in so many ways even if it's also an adult in some other ways.
It's unrealistic to think that Sirius and Andromeda didn't struggle themselves with nature vs nurture when they first started being taught other things in hogwarts and started hanging around other people, even if we wanna say that they were morally perfect right from the beginning and didn't have any internalized prejudices to work through.
I got off track lmao but anyway
I've actually noticed that more artists now draw plus sized characters than there used to be, and maybe that's still not a lot, but it's not a change that's going to happen overnight. It's like the difference between white james in older fanarts and indian james in newer ones. HCs come and go, and I do really hope more people get on the plus sized characters idea because I think it's great, but even people who do share that idea are still going to have different ideas of which characters it fits based on their own HCs.
The most important thing is that characters who are plus sized in canon stay that way in fanon. Characters who were never given a specified body type in canon (or maybe were specified to be skinny but not given a real reason to be skinny) are fair game for however people want to think of them.
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lingy910y · 1 year
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Ian and Mickey Meta Questions: Clothing
this is my moment 🙏 aka just me rambling to myself @gallavichmeta
1. When do you think the first time was that one wore the others clothes? And what feelings did they have about it?
I’m looking through gifs and it seems like the earliest occurence is during 2x01/3x11 with this grey hoodie? and my only interpretation of this is that sometime during the s2 summer, Ian left it at the dugouts after they fucked. and Mickey saw it in the corner of his closet since he also forgot to give it back, and naturally was drawn to it without realizing it’s Ian’s to help him cope with how sad he was :/
2. Mickey is the youngest brother in his family and Ian is the middle brother in his family. What feelings do they have about hand-me-down clothing?
Mickey didn’t care at all cause that’s the way life was for him in Terry’s household, sadly.
Well canonically Ian was tired of living under Lip’s shadow and he’s his only older brother, so naturally some of his clothes are his hand-me-downs. You can also see that in the show. I think that Ian didn’t rly mind this particularly, just shows how close he is with Lip y’know? and they have different styles but so similar at the same time esp Lip’s is more nerdy
3. Do you think either of them have a favourite outfit or item of clothing?
Oh I know Mickey fucking LOVES his black boat neck sleeveless tank. mans wears it all the time, like if he was in a dress up game this would be his default option. I saw a cute fanart speculating that the reason why he mostly wears sleeveless clothes esp in early seasons is bc he overheard Ian saying he esp loves a r m s in men so he cut them specifically, but I feel like he felt uncomfortable and wants to stretch his arms. we all know how he’s a man of action
On the other hand Ian is obsessed with military outfits 💀 first of all bro got the ugly buzzcut. ok sure, whatever, he changes hairstyles every season anyway. but then he was wearing his rotc uniform everywhere?? cutting it into shorts for the club? and he dared mickey to wear the camo for the gig 💀💀 he literally has a kink for it and it’s embarrassing i’m sorry. tho I’m a hypocrite cause he does look good in it, but when does he not? if a watch counts as an item of clothing tho I’m gonna say that instead
4. Do you think either of them have a least favourite item of clothing?
Can I say Mickey’s first wedding suit? Because he was yanking the bowtie when he came out of the dressing room and the whole thing was both literally and metaphorically was suffocating him. which was why it was so meaningful for him to get to choose his white suit (and other stuff in his second wedding), even if he had to straight-up take his and Ian’s by force ASDKFJL
Ian telling Mandy he didn’t want to starve himself to fit that golden thong was so :((( I think he also greatly regrets his job at the club, so all memories involving it are prob bad for him. rly wished the show didn’t just brush how he felt under the rug
5. What do you think their personal style says about them?
Well Mickey’s style screams thug (not necessarily king of the southside) that’s for sure
Ian’s fashion sense is very wack lmfao. I think it just means that he’s a silly goofy boy! Someone said "every cis gay millenial dude owns this shirt" under a gifset of his raglans 😭
6. What items of clothing hold most significance for them?
Didn’t Mickey personally say in 11x05 that he “loves this shirt” in response to the black shirt he was wearing, and the whole fandom agreed that it’s the same one that Ian wore to Mexico 🥺 MEANWHILE HE WAS WEARING THE FLANNEL?? THAT SPANS A WHOLE TIMELINE
And Ian’s EMT jacket def means a lot to him. Everytime I look at it I gain new waves of emotion so I can’t even imagine what he feels when he reminiscences during late nights TT
7. Do you think the way Mickey’s sense of style changed over time was to do with his relationship with Ian?
Yes, definitely. Says a lot that he was dirtier in the early seasons, like he never gave a fuck abt his appearance bc there were other things to focus on before Ian did. I can imagine Ian nuzzling Mickey’s shoulder during another one of their summertime fucks at the dugouts, so Mickey wanted to clean up nice for him without directly saying anything. And how overtime, he dressed more and more fashionable :D
8. Ian has worn a few different uniforms (ROTC, janitor, EMT, prisoner, fake EMT etc etc) over the course of the series, how do you think they made him feel?
I feel like the ROTC and EMT uniforms made him feel empowering, like he’s reaching his ambition of doing something with his life. Then the other ones like his stripper outfit as I’ve mentioned in 4, janitor, prison, fake EMT uniforms rly made him feel horrible. But I think he did grow to like his prison uniform after seeing Mickey in that white tank top all the time, maybe?
9. How does their emotional state affect their clothing choices?
It does, but I can’t necessarily find much apparent examples? But I like how in 3x09/ abandoned building, Mickey was wearing his sweater. I think sweaters and sadness definitely go together
10. We see Mickey wear colourful/Hawaiian shirts a couple of times, how do you think those types of clothes make him feel?
It makes him feel fun! The first time he clicks his tongue, does a little dance, and asks ian for his approval & the second time he lets out a “ooh!” He’s a cutie. I rly get emotional whenever Mickey gets to experience the little joys in life that he never rly got to express when he was younger. Then I get emotional for a different reason - he had a whole dream of laying in the sun with Ian in Mexico but he ended up doing it alone or not at all I’m fucking crying
11. Compare their first and last appearances, what do their outfits tell us about the characters?
They both dress more “maturely” in the last eps compared to the first ones :0c cargo jackets(?) !!!
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crumbztoast · 3 years
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Someone take my phone away-
Another version under LMFAO- kejdjfjdjjsjdnf
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MATERIAL GORLLLLL-
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chubs-deuce · 4 years
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h e
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lambinarmor · 3 years
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blantpoy · 4 years
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a tale of two beans
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ultimatedirk · 5 years
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It won’t last long, but you’ll take what you can get. It’s your only option. Fanart of this fic thats really fucking good, give it a read.
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