#i would have gotten him but there was only one lol

[librababe99]

Vigilante's Lullaby |Part Four|

cw: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Jason Todd, GN!Reader, Descriptions of violence, physical assault, blood and injury, hurt no comfort Summary: Jason's world is one of violence and darkness, but you’ve always been his light—until a brutal attack leaves you broken, targeted by his enemies. Now, Jason spirals into a storm of rage and guilt. Word count: 3.4K

A/N: Hi loves!! I’m so sorry for the long wait in regard to this series---trust me I was getting antsy about not posting LOL---Also, life's gotten a bit hectic with grad school and to top it off some health concerns arose. Please send positive vibes my way <3 And finally, there will be ONE more part to Vigilante's Lullaby...right now I'm hoping to have that up by this weekend! As always...comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

| (Part one) | (Part Two) | (Part Three) | (Masterlist) |

The night had settled in thick, suffocating the underground clinic with its heavy silence. You had grown accustomed to this darkness, to the underbelly of Gotham, where your makeshift clinic had become a sanctuary for those the world forgot. The hum of fluorescent lights flickered above, casting uneven shadows on the walls as you worked. Your patient tonight was fidgety, eyes darting nervously toward the door every few minutes, as though he expected something terrible to happen.

You noticed the way his hands trembled slightly, how his breath came in quick, shallow bursts. "Hold still," you murmured, pressing a piece of gauze to the wound on his shoulder. He winced, though his gaze never left the door.

Something was wrong.

Your heart began to race, an instinctive warning creeping up your spine. You tried to push the fear down, to focus on your work. But the clinic felt too quiet, the air too thick. The patient glanced at you, guilt etched across his face, as though he knew something you didn’t. And then, before you could speak, the door to the clinic was kicked in with a deafening crash.

Your heart lurched in your chest, adrenaline spiking in an instant as the room filled with harsh voices, boots stomping across the floor like an army storming the gates. Men—big, armed, and menacing—flooded into the room, and at the front of them, a man you had seen only in Jason’s descriptions. One of his worst enemies. His rival.

Panic surged through you, your mind racing to Jason. They weren’t here for you. They were here for him. But Jason wasn’t there, and you were.

The leader of the group, a tall, scarred man with cruel eyes, glanced around the clinic with casual indifference, as though the place was beneath him. His gaze flicked over the supplies, the blood-stained bed where you worked, before finally settling on you. His smile was slow, predatory.

“Look at what we have here,” he drawled, his voice thick with malice. “Jason’s little pet.”

You stood frozen, your heart pounding in your ears. “You don’t have to do this,” you said, your voice betraying the tremor of fear.

He chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Oh, sweetheart. We’re just sending a message. You know how it is. Jason’s been a little... problematic lately. Time for him to learn there are consequences.”

The men closed in around you, their presence suffocating, their intent clear. There was no escape. You didn’t even have time to brace yourself before the first blow landed.

The attack was brutal.

Fists collided with your body, knocking the air from your lungs, the force sending you crashing to the ground. A boot followed, connecting with your ribs with a sickening crack. Pain radiated through you, blinding and intense, but they didn’t stop. They wanted to break you—break you so completely that the message would be clear when Jason found you.

You tried to fight back, tried to crawl away, but they were relentless. One of them grabbed you by the hair, yanking you to your feet only to throw you against the wall. Your head hit the surface with a nauseating thud, your vision swimming as the world tilted dangerously. Blood filled your mouth, the metallic taste flooding your senses as you gasped for breath.

The leader crouched down in front of you, his face a mask of sadistic satisfaction. “Tell him,” he said softly, his voice almost gentle in its cruelty. “Tell Jason that this is only the beginning.”

And then he was gone, leading his men out of the clinic as quickly as they had come. The door slammed behind them, the sound echoing in the now-empty room. You lay there, broken, blood pooling around you, your breaths shallow and labored. The pain was unbearable, your body a mass of throbbing agony. You knew you were fading, consciousness slipping from your grasp like water through your fingers.

But you held on.

You held on for Jason.

---------------------------------------------------------

Jason arrived hours later. He had been gone on a mission, something he hadn’t told you much about, but you knew it was dangerous. He had promised you he’d be back, had kissed you hard before disappearing into the night like he always did.

But as he stepped through the door of the clinic, his heart stopped. The familiar scent of antiseptic and blood hit him first, but there was something more—something wrong. He froze, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes swept the room. And then he saw you.

You were crumpled on the floor, barely recognizable beneath the blood and bruises. The sight of you like that—broken, lifeless—was more than his mind could process. His world tilted, his stomach dropping as a scream tore from his throat, raw and primal. He ran to you, dropping to his knees beside your limp body, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch you, afraid you might shatter beneath his fingers.

“No...” His voice cracked, the word barely audible over the sound of his own frantic breathing. “No, no, no—”

He pressed his hands to your face, his fingers slick with your blood. Your eyes fluttered open, weak and barely there, but it was enough. You were alive. Barely, but alive. Jason’s heart twisted in his chest, the sight of your bloodied, broken form like a knife to his soul.

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. All he could do was hold you, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to fix this, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t fix this.

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, his voice desperate and hoarse. “Please, just stay with me. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry—this is my fault. This is all my fault.”

Tears burned his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn’t break. Not now. He had to save you. He had to save you.

But you were slipping away. He could see it in your eyes, in the way your breaths grew more shallow, more ragged. And it was killing him.

Jason felt something inside him snap. The guilt, the fear, the rage—it all surged through him like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. His vision blurred with red as he pressed your body closer to his chest, his teeth gritted in a mixture of pain and fury.

“They’ll pay for this,” he whispered, his voice cold and dark, like the promise of death. “I’ll kill them. I’ll kill every last one of them.”

But even as the words left his lips, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be enough to undo this, to take away the pain they had caused you. The weight of his failure crushed him, his heart breaking in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

You had warned him. You had told him this would happen. And now, because of him, because of his darkness, you were paying the price.

Jason rocked you gently in his arms, his grip tightening as if he could keep you with him through sheer force of will. “Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Please don’t leave. I can’t do this without you. I need you.”

But he knew, deep down, that this wasn’t something you could come back from. Even if you survived, even if you made it through the night, the damage was done. And it was all because of him.

Jason’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms until they bled. The rage inside him burned hotter than ever before, threatening to consume him entirely. He had been so close to losing you, and now all he could think about was revenge. He would find them. He would make them suffer for what they had done to you.

But no matter how much blood he spilled, it wouldn’t change the fact that he had failed to protect you. That his love had been the very thing that had put you in harm’s way.

And as the night stretched on, as you lay in his arms, barely clinging to life, Jason felt himself slipping further into the abyss. The darkness had claimed him long ago, but now, it was pulling him down into something deeper, something darker.

And he didn’t know if he’d ever find his way out.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The night had bled into early morning, but for Jason, time had lost its meaning. It was all a blur now—a feverish haze of blood and vengeance. After carrying your battered body to the safest place he knew, ensuring the bare minimum of medical care, he had slipped back into the shadows, leaving you with nothing but the echo of his promise.

And that promise had been simple: he would make them pay.

Now, as he moved through Gotham’s underworld with a grim purpose, the memory of your broken form seared into his mind, fueling his every step. The streets were colder, darker, and crueler than they had ever been before. The city itself felt like it had turned against him, as if it, too, wanted to remind him of his failure.

The faces of those men swam before his vision, their laughter still ringing in his ears, mocking him. He saw the scarred leader’s face in the dark recesses of his mind—the sneer, the satisfaction in his eyes when he’d threatened you. Jason’s rage was a living thing, gnawing at his insides, screaming for release.

They would suffer. They would all suffer.

His first target was easy to find. A low-level thug, one of the cowards who had thrown the first punch, was holed up in a seedy bar on the outskirts of the city. Jason stalked him like a predator in the night, his body moving on instinct, driven by a singular, relentless purpose. When he finally cornered the man in the alley, there were no warnings, no preambles.

Jason moved like a ghost, silent and deadly, his fists connecting with the thug's face before he even had time to register his presence. The crack of bone echoed through the narrow alleyway as Jason’s knuckles met the man's jaw, sending him sprawling into the trash-strewn ground.

“Red Hood—no, no, wait—!”

The man’s plea was cut off as Jason dragged him up by the collar of his jacket, slamming him against the brick wall with enough force to make his skull bounce off the surface. Blood splattered across Jason’s armor, staining the emblem on his chest.

“Where are they?” Jason’s voice was low, deadly calm, but his eyes—his eyes burned with unrestrained fury.

The thug whimpered, clutching at Jason’s wrist with shaking hands. “I don’t know, man, I don’t know anything!”

Jason’s grip tightened, the leather of his gloves creaking under the pressure. His other hand shot forward, slamming into the man’s abdomen, driving the breath from his lungs in a strangled gasp. “Wrong answer.”

He pulled the thug closer, his lips curling into a snarl. “You attacked her. You’re gonna tell me where the others are, or I’ll make sure you never breathe again.”

There was no hesitation in his threat. Jason’s eyes glinted with something cold, something feral. The man was terrified—Jason could see it, feel it in the way the man’s pulse quickened under his fingertips. But there was no mercy left in him. He didn’t care about their fear. All that mattered was making them suffer, making them pay for what they had done to you.

“Okay, okay!” the thug rasped, panic making his words stumble over each other. “I’ll talk, I’ll talk! They’re at the docks—the old warehouse by Pier 47. That’s where they’ve been hiding.”

Jason let him drop, watching with disgust as the man crumpled to the ground, coughing and clutching his ribs. For a brief moment, he considered finishing it—ending the thug’s miserable life right there. But no. The real target was the leader. The one who had smiled at your pain.

Without another word, Jason disappeared into the night, leaving the man gasping for air as his blood stained the alley.

The warehouse was exactly where the thug had said it would be—a decrepit old building at the edge of the docks, the faint sound of waves crashing against the pier, the only noise breaking the silence. Jason approached from the shadows, his every sense heightened, his heart pounding with the promise of vengeance.

Inside, he could hear the low murmur of voices. Laughter. It grated on his nerves, fueling the fire in his chest. His hand clenched around the grip of his gun, the metal cool against his skin. He hadn’t planned to kill all of them—but now that he was here, surrounded by the stench of betrayal, it seemed inevitable.

With a swift motion, he kicked in the door, his guns drawn before the men inside could react. Chaos erupted in an instant. The thugs scattered, reaching for their weapons, but Jason was faster, more precise. He fired off shot after shot, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. Each bullet found its mark, dropping the men one by one before they had a chance to fight back.

But Jason wasn’t there for them. He was there for him.

The leader was in the back, smirking as though he’d expected this. His eyes gleamed with that same cruel satisfaction, as if Jason’s fury was all part of the game. “You came for them huh?” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Too bad. they weren't worth much after we were done."

Jason’s blood turned to ice.

Before the man could react, Jason was on him. He tackled him to the ground with the force of a hurricane, his fists slamming into the man’s face with brutal, unrelenting precision. Blood splattered across the floor, staining Jason’s gloves, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. The rage inside him was too much, too consuming. Each punch felt like a release—a release of the guilt, the helplessness, the anguish that had been eating him alive since he found you.

The man beneath him choked on his own blood, his hands scrambling to defend himself, but it was futile. Jason was a storm of violence, every hit fueled by the image of you lying broken in his arms.

“You think this is a game?” Jason snarled, his voice a low, vicious growl. “You think you can touch them and walk away?”

His fists kept coming, each one landing with sickening force. The man’s face was unrecognizable now, a broken, bleeding mess, but still Jason didn’t stop. Not until the man was nothing more than a pile of blood and shattered bone beneath him.

But even as he stood, panting, blood dripping from his hands, there was no satisfaction. No sense of victory. Only emptiness.

Jason stared down at the corpse, his chest heaving with the weight of his rage. He had killed them. All of them. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

You were still lying in that hospital bed, broken because of him.

As he walked away from the carnage, the darkness around him felt deeper, colder. There was no light left to chase. Not without you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason stood at the edge of the docks, the wind whipping harshly against his bloodied face, cold and biting like the emptiness gnawing at his soul. The bodies of his enemies lay behind him, nothing more than a grim reminder of what he was capable of, of how deep his darkness ran. The waves crashed violently against the pier, matching the storm in his mind, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.

He had avenged you. He had done what he set out to do, torn through Gotham’s underbelly like a hurricane, leaving nothing but blood and broken bones in his wake. But here he stood, staring out at the endless expanse of the night, and all he could feel was the weight of his own failure, his own curse.

This is who you are.

The thought slithered through his mind, dark and insidious, clinging to him like the stench of death that hung in the air. He was a weapon—a blade forged in violence, tempered by vengeance. He’d tried to be more, tried to find something good in this wretched existence. He’d tried to find you.

But Gotham wouldn’t let him have that. His life wouldn’t let him have that. No matter how many times you’d held him, how many times you’d tried to be his salvation, he had always known it would end like this. With blood, with pain, with you hurt because of him. It was inevitable.

He had warned you. He had tried to push you away. But you stayed. You had loved him, and that was your downfall. Now you were paying the price.

And for what? What had he gained? Revenge? Satisfaction? No. All that was left was the bitter taste of regret and the sickening realization that it didn’t change anything. It didn’t heal you. It didn’t fix what was broken inside him. Nothing could.

He stared down at his hands, still trembling with adrenaline, his knuckles raw and split from the beating he'd given that bastard. They were the same hands that had held you, that had clung to you like a lifeline in the darkness. Now they were stained with the blood of men who had hurt you—but it didn’t matter. Their deaths couldn’t undo the damage.

Jason’s breath hitched, his throat tight as the memories of you lying in his arms, barely breathing, surged forward. The way your blood had soaked into his clothes. The way your eyes, usually so full of warmth, flickered with pain and fear. All because of him.

He was cursed.

He could feel it in his bones, in the marrow of who he was. He wasn’t meant to have happiness. Not with you. Not with anyone. The darkness would always come for him, always tear apart anything good that came into his life. It had destroyed him once, and it would do so again—piece by piece.

And now… now he was standing on the precipice of his hardest decision yet.

Jason clenched his jaw, staring out at the water, his mind spinning with the weight of it. He could go back to you, watch over you as you recovered, try to piece together whatever shattered remnants of your life he hadn’t yet destroyed. Or he could let you go. He could walk away. He could vanish into the night, leave you to heal without the poison of his presence lingering in your life. Because this—what had happened to you—would only happen again. It would never stop.

His heart screamed at him to stay, to fight for the slim chance that you could somehow survive his curse. But deep down, he knew the truth. You would never be safe with him. And the worst part was, he didn’t know if he could live with the knowledge that he would destroy you again.

The decision loomed before him, dark and final, like the city itself—a grim reminder that no matter what choice he made, he had already lost.

Jason turned his back to the warehouse, to the blood-soaked night that had claimed his enemies. His eyes burned as he looked toward the horizon, but the emptiness inside him remained. He had never truly escaped the shadows. He never would.

And now, as the cold wind howled around him, he realized this was only the beginning of his end.

The city would continue to take from him. It always had. There was no peace for someone like him. No future where the people he cared for didn’t bleed in his name. No future where he wasn’t haunted by the bodies left in his wake.

But you—you still had a chance.

He would make his choice soon. The hardest one he’d ever made.

But in his gut, Jason knew. He knew that whatever he decided, happiness wasn’t meant for him. The darkness had already claimed his soul, and it wouldn’t rest until there was nothing left.

With one last look at the city, Jason disappeared into the night, his decision lingering on the horizon like a storm waiting to descend.

And when it did, the person Jason Todd used to be would be lost forever.

taglist: @arisa191 @leo-lvr @azrielwingspan

[sunlightandsuffering]

The crazy Sacrilege fan here ! I LOVE THAT DRABBLE MIKASA IS SUCH AN UNHINGED FREAK I ADORE HER THANK YOU LYS THANK YOU !!! And Eren cares about her , « might even love her, just a little » LMFAO MR COP IS SO BUSTED !! If I may ask, how do you think they would react to a pregnancy scare ? I think crazy ass Mika might even like it, think it’s the Lord’s Will for them to be with child . Eren is head over heels for his little gf so he woudn’t mind giving her a child but he doesn’t want her to regret it later, she needs to go to college and start a career first!

AHAHAHA OMG ILY !!!! 💗💗 ur so funny lol!!! THEY'RE BOTH UNHINGED THO AND THAT'S WHAT WE LOVE THEM FOR, THE ABSOLUTE FUCKING CHAOS !!!!

omg okay, i can totally see this going like both ways, mostly bc I'm so anti religion bc of how much fucking shit it can create. So me, being a little shit, i'd love to go against the grain here and have Mikasa just be pRO CHOICE GIRLY !! Altho I do think she'd be like a little thrilled to have a child with Eren lol. LETS WRITE IT AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!! bro tell me why they're so cute tho i like this drabble lol

Mikasa stares at the pregnancy test blankly, head knocked back against the bathroom cabinet of Eren’s apartment. Two little red lines to seal her fate, she should be thrilled.  

She isn’t. 

Contrary to her mother and every other girl in her church, Mikasa feels nothing but dread, cold, inescapable dread and suffocation. Because yes, a baby is cute, a baby is sweet, a baby would be the perfect embodiment of her and Eren’s love. They’d be the picture perfect happy family, the one people see on instagram, and she could be a stay at home mom and do all that ridiculous mom-fluencer stuff she sees.

The entire idea makes Mikasa want to throw up, and she’s not so sure it’s the pregnancy, because she isn’t that far along at all yet. 

She slumps, dropping the test to the floor beside her and blinking back stubborn tears, she wonders if this is God’s plan. Because surely, it must be? She wouldn’t be pregnant if it wasn’t His will. Hell, she’s already gone against the church by using birth control, condoms and the pill. 

So there’s really no other way she could have possibly gotten pregnant, right? Nothing else other than pure divine intervention would have allowed this. 

Mikasa sniffles meekly, a tear sleeping down her cheek despite her attempts not to cry and she wipes it away with her sleeve. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she crumples in on herself because what the fuck is she going to do? She’s not married, not yet at least, not in school yet –will probably have to drop out now actually– and her parents will most certainly withdraw what little support they were willing to provide her. She can hear it now, they’re going to call her sweet little baby a bastard, the church will gossip, her youth group will turn on her, and the pastor will look at her with eyes full of disgust at every turn. The tears flow faster now, slipping down her cheeks freely, and before she realizes it, she’s sobbing alone in Eren’s apartment bathroom, utterly alone. 

And there’s that too, isn’t there, how Eren will react. She doesn’t know, doesn’t want to lose him, but what if it’s too soon? Eren isn’t that old, only 24 and still working his way up in the force, he probably doesn’t want a baby yet either. 

He’s certainly never talked about it, and it has Mikasa tearing up all over again, because she’s going to lose him, and her parents again all at once. And she can’t lose him, she just can’t, she loves him. What had started as pure angsty rebellion had turned into love so quickly she doesn’t even know when it started. But he’s so supportive, hot, and so fucking good for her if she thinks about it, had told her just to fucking move in when her parents had gotten fussy over their break-up. He’d shrugged like it was no big deal, “Don’t worry about rent, Mika, just as long as you sleep in my bed.” Then, he’d left for work with a wink, and Mikasa for the first time in her life had real fucking independence, the very thing she’d been yearning for, begging for when he’d fucked her on that alter. 

And now here she is, about to lose it all again, her shackles renewed by the responsibility of a child and all the pressures that come with being a mom before she’s financially ready or responsible in the slightest. 

There is a click outside and Mikasa inhales sharply, glancing at her watch, because how long has she been in this bathroom moping? It’s 9:00 am on the dot, Eren is home, having just gotten off an overnight shift, and she can already hear him stomping around, seeking her out. “Mikasa,” He calls, and she slaps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet, for what she doesn’t know, he’ll find her eventually. “Baby where are you, I can see your shoes by the door, come out.” She doesn’t, fear paralyzes her, this agony of what to do, to tell him, not to tell him, to just run away and give it up for adoption, show up again in nine months and hope he doesn’t hate her. But Eren is a cop, surely he’d find her no matter where she went? And he does, just like he’d find her if she ran away, sweeping the apartment methodically before coming to the bathroom door, just off his bedroom. 

He knocks, “Miki, what are you doing?” She doesn’t answer, just grabs the pregnancy test, holds it closer as the two positive red lines blur together, tears flowing freely again. It takes Eren one attempt, one fucking shot to jimmy the lock open, and he’s leaning against the door frame like an avenging angel as he looks her over. He’s terrifying, clad in his police uniform, black cargo pants with so many pockets and that tight long sleeve shirt that goes under his body armour. 

He quirks a brow up at her as he notices her tears, eyes scanning her over, and she can pinpoint the exact moment he notices the pregnancy test, his teeth coming down to bite into his lip, his only nervous tic. “So,” He asks casually, “Pregnant?” She nods meekly, a sob working its way up her throat, all she can think to do is apologize, because obviously it’s her fault, “I’m so sorry Eren.” 

She should have never slept with him, never disobeyed God like this, it’s her punishment, and she just spirals, ugly crying in her boyfriend’s bathroom at 8 am on a wednesday. “Oh Miki no, it takes two, okay,” Eren half laughs as he kneels down next to her, tucking a strand of hair out of her eyes. He wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, cupping her face with more love and affection than she’s ever known in her life, “It was definitely more me if I recall correctly, in the back of my squad car, in the kitchen,” He smirks, looking down at her, “Yesterday morning in the shower.” Mikasa smacks him for that, choking out a laugh, “Stop it, I’m sad right now.” Eren chuckles, sitting down next to her and grabbing her hand with the pregnancy test to look at it himself. “You don’t have to be sad Miki, it doesn’t have to be a big thing you know.” 

She leans into him, her head on his shoulder as she thinks about it, “Eren I’m gonna get huge and fat, it’s definitely gonna be a thing and people are definitely going to notice.” He bumps her with his shoulder lightly, “Nah you’d be cute pregnant, and fuck,” He groans as if he’s thinking about it, “Your tits would definitely get even better.” Mikasa gasps, smacking his arm again, and before she can stop him he’s going in for a squeeze that has her yelping because yeah, she’s already a little more sensitive. He smirks, more smug than he has any right to be in this situation, ten minutes ago she was crying her eyes out. 

“So does this mean you want it, then, that you’ll support me?” Mikasa asks hopefully and Eren squeezes her thigh, looking down at her with more intensity than she knew him capable of, “Mikasa of course I’ll support you in whatever you decide to do, this would be my kid too.” He pauses and Mikasa waits, looking up at him earnestly, ready to accept whatever else he has to say, because he’s Eren and he so obviously loves her. “I know it’s a little taboo in the church community, but have you thought about getting an abortion?” Mikasa cracks, heaving out a great sob, and before she knows it she’s in Eren’s lap with him shushing her as she whispers all her fears into his neck, “You don’t want it, you’re lying you just- you just want to appease me and –” “Mikasa,” Eren kisses his way up her neck, voice right at her ear, “I’m not lying, but look at me.” He cups her chin roughly, tilting her head up so she’s forced to look into those pretty green eyes, “Baby you’re in school, you haven’t even started yet, and I’ve heard you, fuck baby I’ve heard you talk about school so many times and how much you want to be a nurse.” He leans down, so their foreheads touch, and he leans into her, “And as much as I’d love to see you pregnant, how fucking pretty you’d be, cute as hell waddling around my house knocked up with my fucking kid, it would also suck a lot because I know Mikasa that you’d be miserable, would be delaying your dreams for several years at the very fucking least and I could never ask you to do that.” Mikasa inhales shakily, relaxing into him now, the hand on her thigh, the other at the nape of her neck, how warm and solid he is against her, Eren. 

She tilts her head up for a kiss, something soft, chaste, comfort. 

He kisses her softly, all gentle affection, his hand rubbing over her thigh to keep her calm and when she pulls back she’s calmer, more stable in his arms. 

“Is it allowed?” She whispers, almost nervously, afraid she’ll be shot down by the universe at the mere suggestion. Eren laughs, his hand drifting up to her hip to tug her closer in his lap, “Of course it’s allowed Mikasa, no one has to know we have free health care you know, we’ll just you know, schedule you an appointment, I don’t think it’s that hard.” “Really?” she mumbles, “Just like that?” “I think so, I mean obviously I haven’t had one, but I don’t think it’ll be that difficult, we can call in a minute.”

“Okay,” she mumbles and Eren kisses her again, nipping her cheek as he demands her attention, “But I want to know you’re doing it for you, not because of me or anything else, this has to be your decision Mikasa and I’m just along for the ride.” She sighs, “I think you’re right, I just didn’t want to be the one to say it, but before you got here all I could think about was how much it was going to fuck up my life.” Eren gasps, and she looks up, suddenly afraid, does he think she’s disgusting, a worthless human being because of it? His eyes are alight with amusement, “You swore, what a naughty little church girl you are.” 

She smacks him and violently, which has him cackling, and he uses his leverage to go in for another kiss, which she accepts gratefully. “As long as it’s your decision Mikasa, I don’t care, hell I kind of agree, I’m not sure if I’d be a great dad right now, I’m too selfish. I wanna keep you to myself for as long as I can.” Mikasa laughs, “Then maybe we’d better start using better protection.” “Yeah, we’re also scheduling you for an IUD appointment, because fuck are you bad at taking those pills.” She winces, “I took it this morning.” Eren looks at her in disbelief, “Miki you’re already pregnant.” “Well, I tried not to be,” She tells him poutily and Eren pinches her waist, “You did a shit job.” “We just agreed it was your fault!” 

Eren smiles deviously, “Yeah it is, and it’s about to be my fault again.” 

He yanks her down against him, a devilish gleam in his eyes, and she can feel his very obvious erection right against the soft of her cunt, separated only by the thin layer of her pyjama pants. 

“Have you been hard the entire time?” “I’m not a monster, just since you swore, it just does things to me, it’s not my fault, really it’s yours.” “Oh my God,” Mikasa groans, and she can feel Eren below her, grinding her down against his cock, that guilty look on his face, “Holy fuck does it turn you on when I’m like bad?” “Is that blasphemous of me?” 

“God yes,” She tells him and then she’s kissing him, because no one else but Eren Yeager has ever made being bad feel so good.

[troperrific]

/ekuoto chapter 74 spoilers/

IT’S HEREEEEE!! AT LAAAAAST!

FAILMARRIAGE FAILMARRIAGE FAILMARRIAGE FAILMARRIAGE FAILMARRIAGE FAILMARRIAGE FAILMARRIAGE

Ahem.

Pardon my outburst.

Actual chapter commentary below.

Although the main event of this chapter was the beginning of Belphegor’s darkness flashback of his marriage, there are a few things I’d like to note beforehand:

Belphegor and Imuri continue to play tug-of-war with Priest in the middle. And just like the factions of the Church and the Witches, they both claim to know what’s best for Priest, each considering themselves to be the key to Priest’s happiness.

The callbacks to previous arcs via Imuri’s drawings are cool, but they ring a bit hollow, due to various reasons. Still, I don’t care about that, because it essentially gave us these panels:

“Loli version”… maybe it’s a good thing that Leah didn’t come with Imuri after all, who knows what we would hear then lol

I must admit, I found this way funnier than I probably should’ve. “Loli version” lmao, this walking garbage of a man!!

Funnier still is that this comment has double the effect to Imuri because that’s essentially her mom he’s talking about… poor Imuri lol.

Also, I quite like that Bel’s summonings (?) have been getting steadily scarier. The angry bear with edgy mallets was cute and silly, but this time we got a cute but slightly creepy clown with scissors.

We are getting there! Maybe. I trust you Bel, may your flashbacks bring forth your inner horror film abilities!

Belphegor is such an edgelord. I love that the author manages to take issues such as depression seriously, but they can also poke fun at this sort of… exaggerated, teenage-like mindset of “you don’t understand meeee!”

Also, don’t mock the power of love, jerk! Don’t you know the sort of manga you’re in??

Ironically, by declaring that there’s such a thing as “true suffering”, ergo establishing a hierarchy for pain, and assuming that Imuri does not meet his arbitrary criteria of “true pain and darkness” he’s being dismissive himself, as careless and callous as he accuses her to be.

But on the other hand…

Imuri has actually shown herself to be rather callous and dismissive about other people’s suffering. Constantly. There are a few examples throughout the manga.

Some are more obvious. For example, when she both trivialized and sexualized Leah’s emotional vulnerability and pain back in Part 2, caring more about her own jealousy than Leah’s feelings.

Or, more subtly, how she has consistently prioritized her own feelings and pride as Gehenna’s Femme Fatale over Priest’s laundry list of traumas. Feeling more irritated and humiliated that she “lost” to Asmodeus as Aria, and that this messed things up for her quest to romance him, rather than that Priest had gotten hurt again. Or even in this arc!

This isn’t to say that Imuri doesn’t care about Priest at all. She does, and a lot. But she can be just as insensitive as the Demon Lords, when it comes to minding other people’s feelings.

Despite this, Imuri has a lot of good points herself. Truly, just about everyone that has lived has probably thought “ah, fuck this shitty world”, and that’s simply no excuse to give anyone the means to do it. Even if she’s a bit callous in her wording (and about Priest’s feelings).

I loved her comment to Belphegor that it essentially “takes two to tango”, very true. However… Is this the first instance that the Virgin Mary was actually referenced in the story? Because I’m still wondering about Priest’s mom…

ALSO:

I called it!

Of course the reason women are “evil” is that they give birth to beings he considers to exist only to suffer. Of course he solely blames them, considering his immaturity!

What I didn’t expect, though, was for him to have been a father! Just… the context, that he and his wife gave birth to a nephilim, which Belphegor should’ve known better… makes this so, so much worse, thank you Aruma-sensei, I love it already.

Speaking of which… SPEAKING OF WHICH…!!

HI ONESTA!! I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU!!

We’re finally getting ekuoto’s adaptation of Belfagor arcidiavolo!!

I do like and find it interesting that Belphegor went to prove that no such thing as a happy marriage existed apparently for Satan’s sake. I guess him and the other Demon Lords were getting a little too creeped out by his habit of going to Cocytus to talk to his frozen wife…

It’s quite telling, about Belphegor’s childishness, that he believes that just by “proving” to Satan that his marriage is doomed, he can get the poor snake man to stop feeling like he does for his wife.

But for all the bullshit that Belphegor spiels about marriage…

He sure changed his mind quickly!!

I like how, despite his mention of her big boobs, the paneling and framing don’t really drag the reader’s focus to them, unlike with how he sees Imuri. Here, all of Onesta is displayed equally (with sparkles!!), with perhaps a bit more attention to her face.

And I love how… judging by Onesta’s expression and her getting flustered before Belphegor even said anything, it seems she got as instantly smitten as he did.

I mean, I know all the Demon Lords are supposed to be incredibly good-looking in-universe, likely because they’re former angels and/or blessed by God, rather divine beings themselves, but…

Belphegor still retained his messy hair, eye bags and gloomy and clumsy disposition.

And yet, it apparently still was love at first for Onesta too!

It tracks though. Sarah considered the extra eyes scattered along Asmodeus’ arm to be beautiful; as a child, Leah seemed charmed and endeared by Beelzebub’s weirdness; and Tachibana is loyal to Mammon to the bone despite seeing his man child tendencies up close.

My dear girlies with innately horrible taste… I love them very much…

Curiously, this version of Onesta seems nothing like the one described in the novella (which I was very much expecting, given its rather misogynistic tone), who was a vain, arrogant, demanding and cruel woman, but that is what makes me fear for what’s coming even more…

You see, way back, when Part 5 had just started, I theorized that we would see some sort of mental illness portrayed through Onesta, as this seems to be a central theme in Sloth.

What I didn’t consider, however, was the possibility of Belphegor and Onesta having a child. A bit silly, now that I think about it, considering Belphegor’s obsession with childhood.

This, combined with the brief flashback we got from Golem, where he noted that his mother is always crying…

I think, there’s a non-zero possibility we’ll be getting some kind of depiction of postpartum depression through Onesta, or any other sort of mental illness related to childbirth.

I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. It would certainly explain if she were suddenly to change her current personality to one closer to the novella’s…

Also, now I’m convinced that these two:

Might just be one and the same!

Seems like Belphegor’s been projecting his family issues onto Priest pretty hard, huh?

Next chapter is gonna be hell…

[to-a-merrier-world]

if you’re in the US, you gotta check out Ross—they have some good quality One Piece figures for $15 a pop!

[kacievvbbbb]

The gag is Zoro and Shanks aren’t that different. Zoro is also completely reckless with his body less so now but I have no doubt that even now if he needed to cut off any part of his body to win, to save his crew he would do it without hesitation just like shanks.

And the thing is Mihawk would still fight him as long as Zoro can pick up a sword Mihawk would still fight him and relish in it.

Zoro loses an eye, Mihawk still trains him.

And Shanks…..Shanks loses his mind a little bit

[coquelicoq]

what i love about the Famous Actor Natori Shuuichi of it all is that...it's not just that he's famous and therefore widely recognizable wherever he goes. like yes that is very funny because he was an exorcist before he became a famous actor, which means he CHOSE, on purpose, a day job that would make it harder to hide his double life/secret identity from the hordes of his adoring public, but it's more than that. it's not just that he's famous, it's that he's famous specifically for being an ACTOR, aka a person whose job it is to dissimulate, to make believe, to inhabit roles and emotions other than his own. like he decided he was going to become as visible as possible (which again was literally not necessary! he could have gone into any other career for his day job!!) but in such a way that everyone would see him but no one would see him - they would just see his various made-up personas, including the Famous Actor Natori Shuuichi persona. i can't decide if he's a genius or if he just made so many absurd decisions that they canceled each other out and circled back around to working out. he's either playing 9-dimensional chess or he's eating the pieces. too soon to say.

[swiftcast-selene]

been thinking about how hard MSQ must be on the body, especially for someone who isn't exactly in the best shape of their life. must be hard to keep up with the warrior of light! which ended up in a couple studies of how Negi's carried his weight through the whole adventure, with a couple extra mostly-non-spoilery notes on each expac~

[bandsanitizer]

lowkey think people overlook p1harmony’s talent in lieu of their more comedic personalities and it’s cool they’re funny but also SHIT THEYRE TALENTED?!?!!!! LIKE!!!!!! NOBODY TOLD ME HOW GOOD THIER VOCALS ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sysig]

A hero is only as good as his weapons, so make ‘em count (Patreon)

[todayisafridaynight]

List of rgg charas with in-universe Wikipedia pages. Go

ryo aoki

r. ryo aoki :)

[nomairuins]

i just fucking hate having ptsd all of it. so many stupid fucking things send me into fucking hysterics it sucks and i hate it and i dont want itttt anymore i dont want it.

[the-halfling-prince]

Designed a dress I want to make heavily inspired by Merida from brave and then I decided to draw it on Merida.

The original sketch:

[alicepao13]

Rating the Kommissar Rex/Il Commissario Rex/Hudson and Rex human partners for funsies, in chronological order. Contains spoilers, some bias, and opinions based on superficial characteristics. I will take the blame for any distorted memories I have of the shows, although I did a full rewatch last summer. (Rewatch refers to Kommissar Rex and Hudson and Rex. I could only watch Il Commissario Rex once. Well, 0.75 times. I couldn’t find some of the episodes.)

Kommissar Rex

Richard Moser: The blueprint. Not necessarily the best one in my opinion (although if you ask kid me, yes), but they modeled at least two other characters after him in the reboots. Pretty nice (although a product of his time), street smart, recently divorced, and the first few episodes where he and Rex are getting used to living together are hilarious. Moser’s dry humor was good too, also his whump scenes where great. And I appreciated the nude scenes a lot (thanks, German tv of the 90s). 8/10

Alex Brandtner: The hot one. Also, more of a “new age” cop (new age here means post 90s, don’t get confused). Kid me didn’t appreciate the hotness but I watched it in my teen years, and oh boy. And the action scenes, while sometimes ridiculous and making you wonder why???, really showed the actor’s training in physical scenes too. I always liked the way Brandtner immediately bonded with Rex and then we learn of the tragedy with his own dog. Too bad his love life was even more non-existent than Moser’s. 9/10

Marc Hoffmann: I’ll be honest, I just didn’t care for him for the most part, but I did like the fact that for the first time there was a ship with him and Nikki. They went for a different style with this one and it shows. Marc is less type A than the previous two, not a bad thing, but by that point, it was clear that Kommissar Rex as a show was nearing its end and I think it sometimes showed. 7/10

-----

Il Commissario Rex (At this point, let me just say that I don’t associate the two shows with each other. And whoever has watched both, would probably agree with me. It hardly matters that the Italian show starts as a spinoff.)

Lorenzo Fabbri: Ugh, I don’t know what it is with this guy but I didn’t like him much. His style was a lot like Moser at first (adopting Rex, saving him from a miserable fate, learning to live with him, etc.). I absolutely hated the storyline with the forensics scientist throwing herself at him every chance she got and him trying to avoid her instead of flat out telling her he’s not interested, and then at some point they slept together??? Anyway, did not like. 6/10

Davide Rivera: I liked that guy but sadly we didn’t have that many episodes with him. He could have had more to offer as a character. More quiet than the sometimes too loud Lorenzo, and took some time to warm up to Rex if I recall. I liked that he took no flack from his boss (Sidenote: the boss didn’t like Rex at first and kept wanting to get rid of him, and I wanted to rip him to shreds). 7/10

Marco Terzani: I literally found one season of his episodes, so I’ll reserve judgment (if anyone has his second and third season, please give it to me lol or point to the right direction). He seems kinda reckless? He’s definitely attractive. ?/10, more research needed.

----

Hudson and Rex

Charlie Hudson: Started off as kind of mediocre for me, then he made me change my mind. When I started watching, I was hellbent on comparing every single thing of this show to the characters of the original at first, so I’m partially to blame for my initial perception of him. However, I won’t blame myself for the bad writing, pacing, and overall mediocrity of S1 that contributed to a big part of it. Anyway, they used some of Moser’s backstory (divorced, adopts Rex after his K-9 partner tragically dies) and expanded on it. Charlie has had the most development as a character than any of the others, which makes sense since he’s the first of Rex’s partners to live that long or not get rebooted lol. He definitely gets bonus points for having a love life too. And for not dying, despite all the whump situations he gets himself into. Definitely falls under the reckless category too. 70% himbo, 100% whump magnet. 9/10

[keeps-ache]

ggghhg i hate vehiclessssssss ghghghhghhhhh [dies dies dies forever]

[dutybcrne]

Huffman was definitely the first person Kae'd ever slept with, and had to spend a great deal of time talking Huffman out of proposing bc the man wanted to 'take responsibility', send tweet-

[tariah23]

They’re calling my baby Gojo, Joseph Joestar now