#so cool of you to slaughter the man that killed your husband

[morbimoth]

drew Sadie after that one mission

[nohoney]

pt 2 for this dragon king! bakugou blurb

the bride that bakugou had stolen becomes his concubine, having you whenever and wherever it pleases him. he could summon you to his chambers at night and you were to go to him. if he finds you in the garden and wants to fuck you in the grass, you weren’t allowed to deny him. he beckons for you, you obey.

and you do so with enthusiasm, never denying your king as he takes whatever position he wants to fuck you in.

bakugou doesn’t care much for your affection and adoration, only really finding it useful that he has an easy hole to fuck whenever he wants to seek out some relief. it doesn’t even matter to him when you thank him for when you cum during frenzied and unloving coitus. all that matters is that he fulfills his own satisfaction and he does not owe you any scrap of tenderness.

his coldness does not cool the warming affection that you so clearly have for him.

no matter the degrading names he growls at you when he has you pinned to his bed, the rough handling of your hair when he fucks his cock into your mouth, he hadn’t even preserved your decency when others would occasionally stumble upon you when you were with the king—no matter the lack of courtesy he hardly gave you, you never once showed any resentment to his treatment.

if anything, you were always grateful.

it truly shows how much you must have dreaded and hated the man who would have been your husband had bakugou not come on your wedding day to slaughter every person on sight.

there was never any complaint from you, not when bakugou pushed you away once he was done, not when he looked at you sometimes in bewilderment when you gave him lovesick eyes, and certainly not when he allowed the rare times of you sleeping in his bed so that he could fuck you again later instead of summoning you again.

he never gave any thought to you being more than a warm body for him to use. it was his right as king after all, to determine your worth and what value you were to him.

but there’s day he’s cut with a poison knife while he was out in battle, writhing sick in his bed and sometimes screaming from the agony from the burning wound. he was tended to in all areas needed, everyone fearing for the health of their king and praying to the gods to expel the poison from his body and to leave their king in health.

bakugou was bedridden for more than a fortnight before he was finally feeling some semblance of relief. the cut had left a scar on his body but his health had proved stronger. still, he was advised to carry himself carefully for the next few weeks.

“that girl you picked up, the bride, you know she almost tried to kill herself?” kirishima told him one day when they were in the caves to look over the new hatch of dragon eggs. bakugou eyes him from the side and says nothing, but he’s curious to know why you were trying to harm yourself. “she thought you were going to die. kept on saying that if you were no longer on this realm then there was no point of her existence as well.”

bakugou makes no comment, only quietly nodded his head and picked up a green dragon egg, still slimy from being expelled quite recently.

later that night, you’re summoned to his chambers, resuming your duties and riding on top of him. it’s a relief to know that he is alive, to feel that he is well enough to have his desires taken care of, that he still lives on and that death tried so hard to take his soul but had been unsuccessful. your moans are soft as you move your hips, grinding deeply as you fully sit on his cock and feel the tip press into that weakening spot that has your eyes fluttering.

“oh! oh gods…!” you groan as you move up and down on bakugou’s cock, bouncing on top of him and bring him to the plane of pleasure that he seems to have entrusted you to at this point. it was the only thing he seemed to assign you to and you were nothing but grateful to have this role.

you’ve never bothered to announce when you could feel an orgasm rising up in you, bakugou doesn’t fuck for your pleasure after all; only his own. it’s rising up though, making you dizzy with pleasure and has you riding harder, the wet little squishes and splashes from where you are connected to your king making you so happy. because when you’re cumming this much, he’s not that much farther behind you. and you want to make him cum, you want your king to cum, just about to hop off so that you can finish him off with your mouth—such as the routine.

instead you’re surprised when his hands grab at your hips, lifting you off his cock. it slaps against his stomach, shining wet from what you can see from the candlelight and you’re confused why he had taken you off of him. had he been unsatisfied? perhaps he was in pain and he couldn’t finish?

“c’mere, up here.” he mumbles and directing you with a nod.

you hesitate at first, unsure what he meant for you to do. “my king?”

“want to taste you.”

it’s a first he’s ever said to you. in the entirety of you belonging to him since he had stolen you from your wedding day, bakugou had never bothered about your pleasure. he only acted in ways that delighted him—choking you, striking your rear as he fucked you from behind, even occasionally pushing a single thick finger into your asshole. you had never asked him to service you in anyway, you would never dream of making such a request.

but you hesitantly obey, hovering over him and yelping when bakhgou’s strong hands force you onto his face. his mouth messily licks at your cunt and it shocks you how good it feels, gasping up at the high ceiling of his room and throwing your head back. your hips move of their own accord, grinding against his mouth and his chin is slick from his saliva and your juices dripping from the pleasure.

an orgasm is rising up again, less intense than when you’re getting fucked but you recognize it getting ready to burst. you dare to grab onto his ashy, blond hair for stability. a drawn out, pitched moan is sung up to the ceilings as you cum. your body tenses and shakes, seeing stars litter your vision and you almost fall back but manage to catch yourself.

you try to catch your breath, blinking and keeping in your small little moans. and then you look down at bakugou, almost startled to see him just as overwhelmed as you. the flush on his face is something you had never seen before but you choose to make no comment. you slowly move off of him, still needing to do your duty and making sure that he’s satisfied but you find that he’s already done it himself.

his hand was on his cock, now starting to soften, and he had spilled his seed onto his stomach.

“clean me up.” bakugou orders gruffly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. you find your discarded dress on the floor and use it to wipe down his stomach and cock. you start to get ready to put the dress on so that you can return to your chambers but you’re given another order, “put that down and stay here.”

you’re obedient, letting the dress drop back onto the floor and laying back into the bed. the softness of it feels good against your back and it’s warm thanks to the heat of bakugou’s body. in the dim candlelight, you can see the scar of the cut that almost killed him. it makes you emotional almost, the anxiety and despair that had almost swallowed you whole had he not survived.

you chance moving yourself closer to him, closer to your savior, leaving the smallest gap that you feel would not offend him. “rest well, my king.”

bakugou grunts in acknowledgment, his eyes shutting and listening to your breaths become even as you drift to sleep first.

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Oberyn Martell w/ Septa reader — ❂ the sun shines above the heavens. ❂

Yandere Oberyn felt as if those from above were playing some cruel trick. He has never had inclinations to give up the more risqué lifestyle. Each jeering comment sent his way was merely an arrow made of feather. Now it feels as if his reputation is his downfall instead of a source of pride.

He is the debauchery you must protect yourself against. An evil entity seeking out purity, wishing to corrupt it. A flame that so eagerly wishes to draw an ethereal moth.

He wishes to give up all of that just to feel your cool skin against his under the heat of a passionate night.

Yandere Oberyn battles himself every night. He questions how far he will go for someone so unattainable. He has to give up everything for you. He is willing, but is it possible? He feels far too damaged to be the husband of someone such as yourself.

It's laughable. The invincible, suave Oberyn Martell falls face first the moment he sees the soul that intertwines with his own.

Yandere Oberyn seeks the aid of his wise brother. To say Doran was shocked would be an understatement. Doran was well convinced that you were simply another fiery fling that he wanted to ignite. Perhaps that was a bit foolish on Doran's part. Oberyn never plays when it comes to those he truly loves. Oberyn truly loves you.

"I have fallen in love, brother, with a being closer to the gods than I may ever come. I am competing against the divine, and I don't know how well I am doing."

The yearning in his serpentine eyes is akin to a dying man's need for water in the harsh deserts.

"I have seen you love. This is more than that. This is some reckless devotion I ask you to not consume yourself in. It's dangerous. Everyone throughout Westeros loves this Septa. If you make a move towards them, you may end up with a sword in your back. Dorne could be put in danger."

As always, Doran chose the people over his brother's whims.

"I will slaughter all those who come between me and my affection. Not a foot will be laid on Dorne's territory out of anger towards me. Do not test me, dear brother. Even a well-trained animal may turn on those it considers kin if pushed too far."

Doran had no need to further argue his point. Oberyn would follow his heart and his cock before listening to reason. However, his dear brother has always been able to keep his word.

"You have my support. I will invite this dear Septa of yours to Sunspear as an act of good faith."

Hopefully, Oberyn is able to keep his passions to himself while in public.

Yandere Oberyn consistently—constantly extends his hand to you as a show of his new-found faith. You aren't as gullible as he would like. You have interacted with many men like him before. Except he is far superior to any of the other blubbering fools who have dared try to capture your affections.

He shows you not just his combat prowess but his willingness to learn from you. Hours he sits listening to you preach, imagining you in a far different situation, with far less on.

He rids himself of his other torrid affairs and chooses to focus on you. You see him changing, and a part of that is real. The other part is simply him playing pretend so he is able to stay in your good graces.

He isn't quite sure where the real beings and the fake ends.

Yandere Oberyn naturally eliminates those pesky rivals of his. They dare think they have a chance with you? Oh, it's adorably infuriating.

They disappear left and right. You assume it is some of the fanatics that are overly dedicated to you, going as far as to idolize you instead of the Seven. It disturbs you. However, you are kept safe far more than in danger.

It only ignites that jealously in Oberyn more. He doesn't want to be caught, but he also wants you to know it's him. It's the vouyer in him.

He leaves you little gifts on the bodies of those he kills for you. When he sees you with one of them, he is ecstatic. Only to learn that you rid yourself of them to not be tainted by any negative energy.

Oh, there will be no worry about that in the future. You will be tainted by many things more than just his energy.

Yandere Oberyn uses his natural charisma to flirt with you quite often. He does so in a subtle manner, but being subtle when it comes to his love is quite a difficult thing to do. It's just little things, like those gifts he leaves at the bodies.

He also likes asking you questions where the answer always ties back to your relationship.

"How does one win the heart of someone much purer and kinder than me?"

"Does thy interests align with mine?"

"Will it rain soon, or will the desert stay dry? I may not be a scholar of those things, but I do have quite the experience in making things wet."

Yandere Oberyn waits to strike like a serpent. His patience wanes each day, but he simply sees it as a test. The nights he will spend with you, coveting you, will be his greatest achievement.

He is almost able to see it.

Your body devoid of that holy garb. Your eyes full of lust for only him. Your presence so inviting to him. Your mind obedient to anything he commands.

Then in the morning you will be that lovely, pure Septa again.

No one will be the wiser.

[see-arcane]

Jack when narrating about telling Mina about the mens' attack on Dracula in London:

she grew snowy white at times when danger had seemed to threaten her husband, and red at others when his devotion to her was manifested

Mina blushing at Jonathan's acts of devotion omg...

When we came to the part where Harker had rushed at the Count so recklessly, she clung to her husband’s arm, and held it tight as though her clinging could protect him from any harm that might come.

Protective instincts aside I love Jack saying that his attack was "so recklessly". He did fear for Jonathan's life and tried to shield him with a crucifix and a wafer because he kept trying to Kill. I imagine him talking about the attack with the tone of a man who is wiping his sweating forehead going "And then, the absolute madlad-"

Jack: "We were trying to play it safe, united front and all, except someone kept trying to actively gut the ancient undead horror right then and there. And then he lizard fashioned out the window to try it again when said undead horror threw himself out of the building to escape. And then he went chasing after the undead horror to try and carve him open in the middle of a crowded street. If Dracula hadn't sprinted for it I'm pretty sure your husband would have filleted him in the Square. And this was all after he swore out loud to sell his soul to kill the Count and send him to Hell."

Jonathan: "Sorry I didn't slaughter him for you yet, darling 🥺"

Mina, simultaneously terrified and so aroused she can't see straight: "that's fine my love it's great it's cool"

[writingfromruins]

Have you heard the story? The story goes:

Everything is hunger to you. Down to your bones, everything is hunger. Your husband starved you in every other way he could, but he left you in the kitchen to make dinner. You don’t know how to stop the rumbling in your soul but your body, at the least, is sated. Your husband likes lamb. He wants it for dinner tonight. You press the weight of your thumb into the most recent bruise and wait for it to stop hurting.

Once there was a man and there was a wife and there was a kitchen.

Lamb for dinner tonight, he says. So small and trusting. Fed well, sheltered. Stress is bad for the meat: when you taste it you can taste fear. So the lamb does not question when the butcher comes. Why would you raise something just to kill it so young? The butcher sells you a leg of lamb, frozen. It is heavy in your arms, so so heavy. You press your thumb into the most recent bruise and it still hurts. Why would you care for something just to kill it? You were devoted and you were devoured for it. Lamb to the slaughter. When your husband presses bruises to your skin they are too familiar to be fearful. When you raise your knife in the kitchen to make dinner, there is no love in the motion of it.

Once there was murderer and a murder weapon and a corpse.

Damn if you’re not hungry though. The only want you can satisfy in great and flavorful abundance. The kitchen is yours, and under your hands meat has fallen away from bone, bone boiled into stock, and years pass as your knife taps against the cutting boards impatiently. Nothing is alive under your knives. You are hungry, so, so hungry. A creature of stomach and teeth. Devout to the only thing that he wont take, devouring , empty and hollow except for your belly, hot with good food and fine wine and bile— he calls to you from the living room for a drink and you pull the lamb out from the freezer and go give him the cold shoulder.

This is how the story goes:

You kill him. You kill him and then you season the leg of lamb with salt, pepper, fresh rosemary cutting slits in the meat so that the garlic seeps in. You arrange the lamb on a tray in the middle of peeled potatoes, so they’ll benefit from the cooking meat, and put them in the oven, with plans to make gravy from the fat drippings. Your husband, cooling in the living room, says nothing. You leave to get the fresh veggies to pair with the meal. How silly to forget them. You take your time. When you bring the men to see the corpse the lamb is done, and you serve it out- it cannot go to waste. Such a good meal, they tell you, bellies full with a transgression, not for the first time. Recognizing something in it, even if they don’t quite place what. You eat too, and are not hungry. No part of you is hungry any more. Down to your bones, you are sated.

playground myths and other formative lies // PD

[beevean]

The worst part of nfcv is that they made Lisa someone cool w a murderous bloodthirsty bastard that also is just a kinda tall murder elf instead of a canon Lisa, who was w a non actively murderous (but still bastard) isolationist old guy who is huge af and can turn into a varied array of fucked up abominations. They made her scared of her husband AND took away her monsterfucker charm 😔

Biggest crimes of NFCV (aside from existing):

shrinking the 3 meter tall DILF

turning Lisa into a run of the mill vampirefucker instead of a kinky monsterfucker freak

oh yeah and painting her as a victim of an abusive relationship who is fully aware that her darling Vlad doesn't slaughter people for shit and giggles anymore only to not make her sad, but he's more than willing to if given the right motivation :^)

(seriously, how the hell am I supposed to interpret "I know it's not your fault, but… if you can hear… they don't know what they're doing. Be better than them. Please!" or "Please, you don't know what you're going to bring upon yourself if you harm me" or "If you anger him, he's worse [than Satan]. Because he's real. Please! He's come so far! Don't make him do it! No, don't make him kill you all! Please!"? good god i'm so sorry for this woman)

(I will be honest though. Many people say that the last scene with them implies that Lisa is 100% cool with the slaughter Dracula has committed in her name. I rewatched that scene more times that I would have liked to, and I cannot grasp the implication that she even witnessed her husband's actions in Hell. She seems reasonably confused as to why she's alive again, but that's all. So I'll give her that. I still don't forgive her for deciding to abandon her son because muh closure tho :^) )

Anyway, I deadass have more reason to believe that game Lisa would see a good man in game Drac, with all that their relationship is still a mystery. Even with all of his "fuck God" creed lmao. Whether the notion that he sheltered humans to teach them dark arts is canon or not (before Hector and Isaac, I mean - the latter implies so in the MF manga, but you know), at least we have no proof that he went around killing people to get a boner, unlike in the show 🙃

Maybe. Maybe if the show bothered to. Show. Dracula becoming a better person with Lisa. Instead of telling me "oh look he travelled around!". I wouldn't think that the dude is way less noble that the show wants me to believe.

[deusexlachina]

Antisocial DAO Part 10 (Deep Roads): Meet my evil kindred spirit

In which I finally get my perfect army: one that requires no social skills to command.

In the Deep Roads, I meet Ruck, who has the same disease I had. He is the only merchant in these tunnels, so he's very useful. But he fears you, so you have to pass a social check.

Hm. No merchant for me, right? But I still remember the lesson I learned from Ser Carroll: tenacity is a substitute for social graces. I leave the conversation, then come back, by which time (seconds later) he has grown used to me, and very quickly he calls me a friend. Aw.

I can't convince him to go back to the surface, but I can at least take a look at his stock. He's got some nice stuff - a magic belt, infinite deep mushrooms...

I lick my elven lips. The Dalish love deep mushrooms as much as elfroots. They make our people stronger. Like Popeye. This is not as good a deal as the elfroots, but I Am A Grey Warden with stuff to do, so I can't backtrack to the Dalish camp. Now it's mushroom time, and I buy them by the thousand. Despite his sickness, Ruck has cornered the deep mushroom market and has, by the time he's done with me, become one of the richest people in Thedas.

After numerous pitched battles, I finally meet Branka, who is sick of politics and maneuvering and wants to defeat the darkspawn by finding a superweapon, the Anvil of the Void. Her tolerance for social graces is fairly limited. A woman after my own heart.

She seals me inside, forcing me to fight my way through layers of ancient magical defences to access the Anvil. Since this directly contributes to my mandate, she could have just asked, but She Is Socially Inept.

When I reach the Anvil, it is guarded by its creator, Caridin. He explains that it turns people into enormous badass immortal robots [bad]. It all seemed so harmless - he never expected he'd be turned into a robot!

But I've suffered the taint, seen the suffering of the world's greatest mushroom merchant, and watched good men like Soldier and Tower Guard senselessly slaughtered. Hell, on the way here I had to kill a lady who ate her own husband's face and turned into a huge monster. Such fates await any number of people if the Blight is not stopped - and are they any better than being a cool as hell robot? Branka doesn't think so, and, honestly, she's a kindred spirit. I couldn't possibly kill her.

Leliana tells me this goes against everything she knows to be right, which means I lose 10 approval before she stabs the shit out of Caridin. What Leliana sometimes lacks in strength of conviction, she more than makes up for with sheer loyalty. What a great girlfriend to have.

Incidentally, 10 approval is exactly as much as you can get by gifting her an adorable "subterranean bunny-pig," so we're good. She fawns over her new pet right after killing a man in cold blood, which seems very jarring but, if you've played Inquisition, this checks out completely.

Branka offers me a favour, so I ask her to get right to work turning people into cool robots. Actually, your husband did quite a lot to help you in your quest. I think it's fair that he be first on the production line.

Of course, Branka says no to this. Not because she likes her husband, mind you, but she doesn't yet know how to turn people into robots (a minor flaw in her plan to obtain the device that turns people into robots). She suggests "we go with the crown for now," but she definitely likes what I'm putting out.

Oghren disapproves of you even suggesting this, even though he just approved of me helping Branka to use the anvil in general. He never expected he'd be turned into a robot!

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without Context

Revenge of CHAOTICA!, Episode 5

Tricking their way inside the Owlword factory fortress, the group located the imprisoned PRINCE FLAPJACK the Merciless. Freeing him they began slaughtering everything in their path until they came face to beak with the commander of the fortress and his cadre of elite guards. Appearing suddenly, without even an establishing shot, Moonpaw bursts onto the scene! "Don't worry [Moonpaw], tails grow back!” *leans to Robbins* “No they don’t.” "....Robbins, sweetie, cover your ears.” "Can't. I-have-knives-in-both-hands. Knives-and-my-ears-don’t-go-together.” Fiver glares at the commander "OH I AM SO STEALING YOUR IDENTITY AFTER WE KILL YOU. I'm signing your ass up for Horseporn.com after this.” Commander: “Those horses wanted it!” Fiver blinks. "You bastard.” Thunderchild: “She slices, she dices, she makes julienne owl.” GM: You look down the stairs to see Flapjack engaging the guards below, covered in gore. Fiver: "Pretty sure that's gonna work itself out.” Silvercat, the commander tries to back away from you, giving you an attack of opportunity. "GET HIS WALLET [MOONPAW]! I want his credit cards. I WILL invest all his gold in cNFT’s.” "Meowtal combat!” "ROBBINS! I'M OUT OF HEALING, YOU'RE ON MEDIC DUTY.” "I-AM-A-STABBY-DEATH-MACHINE! HOWDOIMEDIC!?” One of them yells, “Screw this, you’re a terrible boss!” And runs for the stairs. Fiver just steps aside and lets him pass. "Fair warning, it ain’t much better down this way.” Thunderchild calls after the owl: “If you're still alive once all this is over, I have a concept I'd love to share with you and any of your fellow mistreated workers!” “HE KILLED HOT CARL!” One of the remains guards lifts her shield, “OwlWorld! Forever!” And then the staff implodes behind her sucking the commanders body into a horrifying nether dimension. “Okay, yeah, we’re cool.” "Alright then. Katt, grab the eye of Lumbara and let’s get the Hell outta here.” Katt, as you grab the hatchet, a word echoes through your mind … lumber……lumber… LUMBERCATS! HOOOOOOOO!!!!! "Gotta say, Flannel is a good look for you. You pull it off.” Flapjack makes his way up the stairs, dropping an armful of arms into Fiver’s arms. “Okay. Had a good time.” "Likewise. Also I think Katt just became the queen of Lumbara or something. Like seriously is that normal? Should we be worried?” "I'm not sure weapons found in polluting factories is a good basis for government.” “Sound the can opener, we take back Lumbera!” Flapjack: “We did. Everone’s dead. Except that one.” He says, nodding at the last guard. Thunderchild: “Leave them alone, I'm instructing them on the finer points of unionizing.” "So, QnA time, what the Hell was this all about?” Katt: “They loved Hot Carl.” “No, I was fucking Hot Carl.” Katt: “There’s a difference?” “Yeah, I love my husband, I was fucking Hot Carl.” Thunderchild: “Wait which Carl was in the cells? I'm going to assume Dumb Carl.” Fiver: "Goddammit the commander imploded. I wanted his credit card.” Moonpaw: "What's a credit card?” Fiver: "Oh honey, I can't bring myself to tell you. I don't want to break your little heart.” “No one will notice one more body.” "Noted. Shutting up now.” "Did you ask them if they stole from you first, confirm before you acted?” “That’s kinda outside my paygrade.” "So... You're-now-an-axe-monk. Huh-Sis?” "Better than an axe-cop.” “Beware-the-axe-milk-man." "Questions for later, I'm going to enjoy my box, maybe get blitzed on catnip with Moonpaw.” Fiver: ”Yeah, remember, you don't have to outrun the dragon, you just have to outrun your slowest friend.” Thunderchild: “Fiver, I hate to tell you this but I'm pretty sure YOU are the slowest friend in this situation.” "Am I?” Rabbit hop 15 feet across the room. "My legs may be a little messed up but I can still move when I have too.” *winces* "Um, bartender, could I have some Ice, I think I pulled a hammy.” GM OOC: I kinda wanted this to be an encounter that requires tactics. OOC: Oh no! one of our weaknesses! Along with. Puzzles. Diplomacy. Memory. Table Manners. OOC2: As a battle nun, Katt knows manners. Maybe she'll use them someday. GM OOC: Next week: THE FURY OF COCAINE! OOC: I don't have anything to do, so I've got to go remedy that.

[bonefall]

Profoundly disappointed in so many of these comments downplaying Bumble as "just a cat," as though it makes the choice of the human writers to gruesomely torment a domestic abuse survivor for the sake of male arcs less misogynistic. I expected better of people who care about media analysis and harmful tropes.

So I won't do that to Alex. She's a worthy opponent and the originator of the term "fridging." She existed only to serve Green Lantern's arc and has sparked a wide discussion on misogyny in media. That's meaningful and important. Do not take a single word of my argument as dismissing how badly Alex was treated.

Everything that happens to Bumble is in a popular series for young readers.

Warrior Cats is aimed at a tween audience; Yet, the downplaying or dismissal of domestic abuse, mockery of weight and "usefulness", and constant, graphic torment and slaughter of female characters is notorious in these books... and Bumble is one of the GREATEST examples of it.

She seeks asylum with her only friend, Turtle Tail, after fleeing physical assault from Tom, a man who had beaten them both. Turtle's new husband Gray Wing immediately seethes at seeing this battered woman because she's a fat foreigner who "stole his wife away" last winter (after treating her like shit), even balking at Bumble's request for safety because "her abuse has drained her confidence which would make her useless"

This is treated as a WISE thing, Gray Wing's defining character trait. Being "wise."

She is then publicly mocked by a crowd of cats, where she's interrogated with questions like, "What did you do to make him so mad?" and "Can't you just purr at your humans?" and "Why are you so fat?" before two cats interject, tell Bumble how disgusting and useless she is, and then push her away as she screams that she'll never forgive Turtle Tail for letting her be dragged back to Tom the Wifebeater.

This is treated as an unreasonable thing for Bumble to be mad at. That her only friend happily watched her be sent back to a man who is beating her bloody.

Bumble then spends weeks starving to death in the woods, alone, because she won't return to Tom. Clear Sky, a murderous tyrant who had already slaughtered a random native woman (Misty) to steal her territory, finds Bumble on his territory and...

Well.

Gray Wing and his cats learn of the murder of Misty because he left her brutalized corpse unburied, and come to look for her orphaned children. They find Bumble, slowly bleeding to death through many "slits down her belly and sides." A death of a thousand cuts. .

Clear Sky then appears, and Gray Wing begs him to explain what happened because this story is about Clear Sky actually being a good person all along. He then makes up a FANTASTIC lie on the spot that he just "cuffed her ear" and she passed out, so he left, and then a fox mauled her, so he came back, and then he left again just before they showed up, and now he's back for the third time. Gray Wing buys it immediately, praising how cool and amazing his brother is. You are meant to take this seriously.

Meanwhile, Bumble dies, and her death is treated as inevitable because she was too fat and useless to live. Gray Wing even gets another little dig in about how much he doesn't like the domestic abuse victim.

What matters about Bumble isn't that she spent the last days of her life in terrified agony. She "never could have lived out here" and her "tragic but unavoidable" death CHANGES THE WAY THAT GRAY WING'S CATS FEEL ABOUT HIS BROTHER, unfairly blamed for this SECOND murder of a woman he absolutely did. Because killing one woman for her land would have been fine!

(I have an in-depth post about these scenes if you'd like more context)

Later in the book Gray Wing even comforts Turtle Tail, assuring her that there's nothing they could have done and also his brother totally isn't responsible for killing TWO women.

(Clear Sky's woman-related body count ends in the main series with 2 fridged wives, 1 fridged platonic female ally, and 3 women killed in cold blood. He also regularly hits women who talk back to him, but not men. Turtle Tail also dies to make Gray Wing sad.)

Every single male character who had a hand in Bumble's mistreatment, from Tom the Wifebeater who tortured her and Turtle, to Clear Sky who beats her to death and blames her for being too weak to stay conscious through his physical assault, and beloved fandom favorite Gray Wing who allows her to get dragged back to her abuser out of jealousy that she was friends with his wife... is venerated and celebrated by these books.

Clear Sky in particular is said to have "not changed that much" after his sudden "redemption" in the next book because it turns out he only killed women because "he was scared." He continues to be violent, abusive, and manipulative, and he kills 3 more women and his first and only male victim (because by killing a husband it would indirectly hurt a woman). This blatant misogyny is never addressed.

Gray Wing's actions aren't seen as a problem at all, in fact he's allegedly "wise." All the characters in canon fall over themselves to note how wise and good he is.

ALL of them go to cat heaven. Even Tom the Wifebeater who according to authorial statements, now has a fleet of angel kitties "teaching him how to be nice" because he has a redemption death.

Did Bumble go to heaven? Who knows. The writers don't give a shit. Her last "appearance" is Tom the Wifebeater finding and disrespecting her grave, a fight breaking out where he "smothers Turtle Tail with his fat body" so Gray Wing can jump in and save her.

Not only is Bumble's life treated as lesser because she is a fat woman, but ALL female characters in Dawn of the Clans are treated as unreasonable, expendable objects. A combined SEVEN women are killed just to advance the stories of Clear Sky and Gray Wing-- SO MANY die that the writers are suddenly introduce random women from nowhere to breed with the male characters, to "reward" them with biological children.

So, PLEASE, VOTE BUMBLE, the worst victim of her canon's misogyny in the book series notorious for radioactive levels of it.

PROPAGANDA

BUMBLE (WARRIOR CATS) (CW: Domestic Abuse)

1.) Back with another Warriors submission, I bet you’ll be getting a lot from other people too LMAO. Bumble is a kittypet (housecat) who befriends the male protagonist Gray Wing’s girlfriend, Turtle Tail, and lets her stay in her house. This gets Gray Wing all pissy because he’s controlling of Turtle Tail and shares most of the wild/clan cat’s proclivity for looking down upon kittypets. Turtle Tail gets pregnant by another kittypet, Tom, who tries to control her by hiding the fact that humans take away kittens after they’re born. Eventually Bumble comes clean about it so Turtle Tail returns to the forest. Some time later, Bumble is found in the forest seeking refuge because Tom has been physically abusing her, scratching her where the humans can’t see. So, she’s CANONICALLY ACKNOWLEDGED as a domestic abuse victim (unlike Squirrelflight who meets all the textbook signs but the narrative and authors deny it). How do you think our good guy protagonists, i.e. Gray Wing “The Wise” and Turtle Tail, respond to an abuse victim seeking refuge? They tell Bumble to go home, thinking to themselves that she’s fat and soft and therefore would be useless in their group. Bumble stands up for herself and asks to speak with the leaders of the group. One of them asks if Bumble could just get along with Tom better (bro???) and when Bumble says it’s not within her control, the leader suggests being nicer to the humans instead. Another rival leader butts in and verbally abuses Bumble again by ripping into how fat and lazy and useless she would be. Despite Turtle Tail having been friends with Bumble and Bumble had helped her through her own hard times, to Gray Wing’s approval Turtle Tail chooses not to intervene as Bumble is forcibly escorted back to her abuser. But that’s not all. Later Bumble is found in the forest maimed and dying, and it seems likely that Gray Wing’s brother Clear Sky, a male with a long history of violence, is the culprit. Rather than mourn the dying innocent cat, Gray Wing’s primary concern is how other cats might be mean to Clear Sky if they think he’s a murderer, and reassures himself that refusing to help Bumble in her time of need was still the right decision.

2.) I have no idea how she managed to be written so horrifically from an abuse victim and woman (/she-cat I guess) standpoint but here we are. Okay so my memory is a bit fuzzy but basically Bumble was a character in Dawn of the Clans and a close friend to Turtle Tail, a major character, as well as a character who lived close to Tom, an abusive dickhead of a cat. Bumble was largely depicted as just a really sweet cat. Turtle Tail was very briefly the mate of Turtle Tail, but once she got pregnant, he became super violent towards both her and our gal Bumble. Tom actively hid the fact that, once her kits were old enough, Turtle Tail’s kits would probably be taken from her, and made Bumble keep quiet about this too, but Bumble eventually told Turtle Tail the truth, Turtle Tail left and Tom became extremely violent towards Bumble because of this, and was extremely abusive towards her. Eventually, Bumble ran away from him to where Turtle Tail and co were and begged to stay, since the wilderness as a whole was genuinely more safe than being around Tom was. Naturally, this meant kitty xenophobia from cats who had only arrived in that area recently, because everybody was insistent than, since she was a kittypet/house cat, things wouldn’t work out, and even her friend Turtle Tail denied her on this, insisted she was too soft to live in the wild and only sent her towards a cat Bumble wanted to convince because she was absolutely certain she’d be denied. Also our good old protagonist Gray Wing got to spend this scene being all upset about this soft cat wanting to join them to escape an abuser and was all bitter about the fact that Turtle Tail lived with her for a short period of time, and he also got to have a sweet romantic moment with Turtle Tail after denying an abuse victim an escape from her abuser. Also as much as I like Tall Shadow usually she sucked ass in the following scene because she was essentially telling Bumble to go find a way to make peace with Tom as if she was not the one being abused (Bumble pointed out that Tom was the one who would need to make peace for it to happen, not her) and that she should just make life better by going back to being a housecat and being spoiled despite the fact that she was actively at risk with her owners because of Tom. Then she leaves after being threatened by several cats there and is called soft on the way out. The next time she appears she is literally dying, and her death is just a plot device to create a stupid little mystery which is solved in a very stupid way. Also her abuser does continue to be a shithead and for some reason is fully permitted to kidnap his own children but he also gets a heroic death and the only reason I will not rant more about him is because this is too long already. Long story short Bumble deserves the world and everybody who decided not to let her escape her abuser just because they thought she was soft sucks

3.) Is nice to the group of starving, feral wild cats that left the mountains so their friends and family could have more food to eat and befriends one of them to the point of opening her home to her after she leaves the group because the guy she likes is too dumb to notice she likes him and keeps falling for his brother’s love interests.

Unfortunately, because Bumble is a house cat who lives in a house with people and not a Wild and Free cat, this is a grave and horrible crime (luring a wild cat into the safety and comforts of domesticity) and is villainized for the rest of the arc, including for things wildly out of her control

I.E.

Her owners taking in an aggressive male cat that bullies and abuses the two female cats already living there

When Bumble’s friend leaves and goes back to the wild cats, Bumble leaves her home (as the abuse as has gotten worse) to see if she could either get help or have her friend return so the abuse isn’t as bad again)

Bumble eventually dies in the wild because the feral cats all hate her for ‘stealing’ their friend and tricking her into becoming a kittypet for awhile and refuse to help Bumble adjust to wild life or even teaching her how to hunt.

They are littl e to no hard feelings at her death beyond ‘good riddance’ but the aggressive tomcat that chased her out of her home is later regarded with good feelings and regret at such a ‘good, heroic cat’ passing when he dies despite him literally never doing a good or kind thing in his life and actually causing trouble for the wild cats right before dying

ALEX DEWITT (DC COMICS)

1.) The term “fridging” is literally based on Alex and what happened to her. She was killed off violently by a bad guy trying to get at her boyfriend only a couple issues after she was introduced (making it obvious they only brought her in to kill her off for shock value). Her death did very little to the narrative other than hurt her boyfriend Kyle and was done in an exceedingly horrifying and violent way. (Bad guy came to the door with flowers and threatening note, broke in and attacked her, choking her to death, before [off panel] chopping her body up and sticking it in the refrigerator as a “surprise” for her boyfriend. This obviously is really fucked up and she deserves better and should win this actually (a vote for Alex is a vote for all fridging victims [in spirit])

2.) It doesn’t get much worse than being the character whose death originated the “fridging” trope. In Green Lantern Vol. 3 #54, Kyle Rayner comes home to find that Alexandra, his girlfriend, has been killed by the villain Major Force and stuffed into the refrigerator.

Alexandra DeWitt is the character whose misogynistic treatment coined the term where a character, usually female, is killed off purely to make the main character, usually male, feel bad. Even if there are other characters who have been subjected to similar levels of misogyny, Alexandra DeWitt’s treatment has been essentially immortalized.

3.) I know she’s not going to win but shout out to my home girl, literally the trope namer for women shoved in fridges. All anyone ever knows about her is that she was Kyle’s girlfriend and got murdered for his character development, even though she had plenty of potential to be her own character.

[radiowallet]

In Knots

Summary: Din shows you how good he is with his hands.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!reader

WC: 2.3K

Warnings: 18+ Minords DNI, Canonical type violence, Unprotected p in v sex, fingering, slight dom behavoir, slight bdsm, bondage, dirty talk, cursing, helmetless Din, and some minor joking about Star Wars.

A/N: Sometimes, my husband and I make really absurd jokes about Star Wars. Case in point- what if Din kept bounty hunting and just decided to strap his bounties to the front of his ship like a hunter does with deer? Then of course I share this joke with my dearest @astroboots and @jazzelsaur and then things instantly got slutty. Let me be clear, this doesn't happen without either of them. Please go tell both of them how amazingly talented they are. Also, funny enough, this is the first time I've written Din Djarin smut (outside of an AU) soooo, yeah. *hides*

You knew Din had strong hands. It was hardly a secret. The man has pulled you apart with just the thrust of three fingers and the quick turn of his wrist more times than you could even remember. His skill with a blaster was double in the privacy you shared, armor discarded and skin bare. But something else entirely erupted in your brain earlier today. It had started as a joke- the lack of storage in the N-1 Starfighter glaringly obvious as Din carried his bounty back to the ship- and you couldn't help but casually tease him about how he was going to have to get creative when transporting the body back. Din just stared at you, the black of his visor offering zero clues about how he intended to solve this problem. 

You certainly weren’t riding in that stupid bubble seat next to his latest kill. 

You watched in quiet awe as your mandalorian heaved the lifeless bounty to the front of his new ship, nimble fingers wrapping thick rope around and around, pulling knots tight, tight enough to withstand the pull of light speed. He grunted and groaned as he tugged again and again at the ropes. Without even trying you could picture the muscles beneath the beskar, straining against the tan of his skin, and your brain whispered the most devious thoughts in your ear. 

By the time Din turned back around, you were a mess; eyes wide, lips parted, knees shaking. 

You could hear the smirk in his voice a mile away. “See something you like riduur?” 

You could only nod in response, your voice whisked away with any last remaining jokes you might have had. Din gave a low chuckle– knowing exactly what he did to you– walking up to you slowly, taking his time with each step, a killer stalking its prey. When he finally reached you, he pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger leaning down until the cool metal of his helmet brushed against your temple, the leather of his gloves still warm from where he had been pulling at the ropes. 

“I thought you knew how good I was with knots?”

Good was understatement. 

It had been a quick turnaround; dropping off the bounty and collecting the credits, then promptly using a majority of those credits to rent a room. If you hadn’t been so hungry for him, you would have reminded Din that those credits were for things like fuel and food. You’re glad you didn’t. 

The room is small. Barely enough for a bed, a fresher tucked off to the side. It didn’t matter. That was all Din needed. A bed, some rope, and you. He pushes you down gently, helmet tilting as he looks you over head to toe, a silent command dripping out of him: Strip. 

You shudder, licking your lips and keeping eye-contact with the deep fathom of his helmet. Your answer is just as muted, a nod of your head as your fingers reach for the hem of your top. You rid yourself of your clothes, zero flourish in the quick way you pull your tunic overhead and kick off your leggings. Din watches silently, hands flexing into fists at his side, a hunter ready to pounce, his prey baring themselves for him like a lamb to the slaughter. 

A sigh of relief reaches your ears as the last of your clothing slips to the floor, and Din rewards you, reaching up and removing his helmet, giving you the first glimpse of his eyes that day. The sweet honey color is gone, black bleeding into dark brown, his lips curled with arousal, eyebrows pinched as he regards you with barely tempered need. 

“Is this is okay?” 

He asks every time. It never matters if it’s soft or hard- a fast fuck behind a cantina, the weight of his armor pressing you into the wall, or gentle love-making where he makes sure to caress each piece of your exposed skin with his own- Din will always ask, will always find it hard to believe that you are his and he is yours. You are eternally honored that you get to be the one that reminds him. 

His palm finds your cheek, his hard edges smoothing slightly as you nuzzle the bare skin, his gloves pulled off too, another wall breaking away. He doesn’t move until he feels you nod, a silent reminder that the trust is still there, and he takes one solid breath in, absorbing the seconds as they tick by. Then, like lightning cracking against the desert sky, he’s on you. 

Nimble hands twist your body around, face pressed into the thin mattress as Din pulls your arms up above your head. Thick rope soon joins the touch of his fingertips, weaving around and around, pulled tight enough to bite at the delicate turn of your wrists, followed by the sweet press of his lips. His mustache tickles where skin meets bone and you can’t help but laugh, earning you one more kiss and a nip of teeth. 

“Does it hurt?”

The question is whispered, his voice strangled, Din just as tangled as you are. The simmering adrenaline of a fresh kill mixed dangerously with his lust has him barely holding back and you’re desperate to set him free. You pull at the ropes binding your hands together, a soft moan falling out of your lips when you meet sweet resistance, a sting of pain biting into your pleasure. You can feel your arousal leaking out of you, and if it were anyone else you’d be embarrassed, trying to pull your legs closed to hide the effects of your lust. But Din is your safety net, a protective space for you to let all of your jagged pieces show, and so you spread your legs wider, knees digging into the bed, giving him a full view of your aching cunt, whining louder; loud enough for him to understand. 

You feel his hands ghost over your backside, fingertips barely grazing your hips before he pulls away again, the sound of beskar hitting the floor signaling the breaking of the dam. Clang after clang rings loudly through the small room, vibrating from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. You’re anxious, impatience filling you to the brim as you wait for your mandalorian to join you completely, and in your haze you thrust your body backwards, a teasing search for friction, eliciting a strangled groan from above. 

“Needy thing,” Din murmurs, and suddenly you feel the bed dip, his broad frame joining you, lips and tongue trailing up your spine. His breath is hot in your ear, panting wet and sending ripples of need down your back. You keen loudly, twisting your head in search of his lips but he pulls away, leaving you writhing on the bed, your knees slipping underneath the weight of your want. Two strong hands wrap around your waist, pulling your ass up into the air, and without warning Din’s lips are centimeters from where you need him most. 

“So wet, mesh’la.” 

You can only whine in response as the tip of his tongue finds the evidence sticky and warm, coating the inside of your thighs. You can feel your entrance fluttering, another wave of slick leaking out of you at Din’s breath teasing your pussy. He’s laughing again, taunting your aching cunt, not at all dissimilar to how he laughed at the bounty from earlier today. For a brief moment you forget your current position and you try to reach back for any part of him, but you meet the biting resistance of the ropes, and you whine again, Din’s name falling from your lips in a broken plea. 

“Shhh,” he reassures, fingers reaching up to pet at your wrists, the gentle touching stilling your struggle for a few seconds, long enough for his other hand to dip inside you, just enough to make you clench around the tip of his thumb. 

It’s relief and torture all mixed together. Din palms your waist, gripping hard and holding you still as his thumb inches inside you. You’re begging for more before you can stop yourself, your teeth scraping at the meat of your forearm in search of any sort of help to get you closer to release. But he will not be rushed. He takes his time, in all things, and just as he did earlier– slowly lining up his blaster, aim precise and shot deadly– he will take care of you. 

He fucks into you, deliberate and steady, first with his thumb, your orgasm crashing into you harder than you expected, your breath trapped inside your throat. The second is pulled slowly from you as he circles your clit, pressure never wavering, no matter how loud you beg. The third is like fire, your skin burning hotter than the sands of tatooine, Din’s tongue lapping up your release as two fingers stretch you open with practiced ease. Sweat prickles at your temples, your arms shaking, muscles fraught and aching from where the rope keeps them bound above your head. 

Between each wave of pleasure, Din’s lips find your ear, a wet kiss pressed to your damp skin and a gentle request to make sure you’re alright. You want to laugh and scream each and every time, but you know it’s no use. Even in the blind haze of his own need, the blunt pressure of it digging into your back as he once again checks that you have room for one more, Din will always put you first. 

Your patience is worn through, body more than ready for all he has to give. You bite out a growl, thrusting back, the hard length of his cock catching in the curve of your spine, precome smearing into your sweat, Din’s voice taunting as he grips your chin just as he did hours ago, dark eyes carving out a home on your face. 

“What do you want, riduur?”

He’s playing with you, enjoying the hunt far more than the kill, even the endearment teasing around the edges of adoration. You meet his gaze head on, moving back and forth, shoving back into him like a wild beast, challenging him to tame you the same as any creature who dares cross his path. Without warning he moves away, only for the tip of his cock to slam into you, his hips meeting your backside in a crushing blow that knocks your teeth together. A guttural moan rips out of him as he keeps himself buried inside you, the length of him piercing you down the middle.

“Din…Din, move. P-please.” 

He doesn’t move right away, stubborn in more ways than one. You can see his muscles quivering, his forearms landing on the bed, caging you in where they frame your head. His hands find your own, tracing the ropes that bind your wrists together and following the path up to your knuckles, touching gently to each one before lacing his fingers with your own. It’s awkward and tangled, a perfect twist of knots, his body curled around yours as if to shield you from everything but the weight of his cock inside you. 

It takes four more breaths, slowly in and slowly out, before he starts moving again, his hips slowly picking up pace. You can only hold on, fingers clinging where he’s holding them tight as he fucks into you, his knees pressing your legs wide apart.  A cacophony of sound surrounds you, Din’s growls mixing with your mewls of pleasure, skin slapping from his brutal pace, the slick squelch of his cock inside you. It’s filthy and delicious and Maker, you never want it to end. 

Your toes curl and your back tightens, a familiar pool of warmth filling up your core. You’re helpless to stop it, and Din refuses to slow down now that he’s inside you, jamming the head of his cock up inside you again and again, knowing just how to find the spot that turns your vision white and your eyes black. You’re howling, heedless of any other guests that may hear the effects your mandalorian has on you. Let them hear. Let them know how it feels to be a bounty caught in his snare. Pleasure snakes through your body, twining up and around each and every muscle, pulling you as tight as a rubber band, until finally you snap, your release slamming into you. You clench around Din, helpless to do anything but ride out your orgasm as he chases his own. 

His tongue loosens, just enough, and soon, your riduur is a mess, moaning nonsense in your ear as his own orgasm begins to crest.

“So fucking pretty. Pretty girl. My pretty girl filled w-with my….fuck, my cum. Like this. Like me to treat you like my bounties…like something to be tied up?”

He’s shaking, arms tightening around you, his chest pressing into your back as he ruts inside you. His teeth sink into the curve of your neck, a violent bloom of pain biting into the last waves of your pleasure. In your haze you can feel Din’s cock spasm inside you, warmth filling you up, ropes of his cum painting your walls. It seems to go on forever, Din’s hips canting a sloppy pace as moans into your shoulder, dribbles of his release leaking out around where you’re still stuffed with him. Finally, regretfully, he stills, and the two of you are left struggling to bring your heart rates to something close to normal as the mess you’ve made cools on your skin. 

When Din does pull away, you know it will be with a whine and a pout, large hands carefully untying the rope before he scoops you and carries you to the fresher. It will be tender, his aftercare, sweet kisses and gentle praise as he wipes you clean and holds you close. He’ll be insatiable in his need to thank you once again for sharing so much, for trusting so easily, eyes clinging to the marks upon your skin even as he sinks to his knees and licks the last of himself away. You can already feel the warmth of the water and dip of his tongue, though neither of you have attempted to move. For now you’re both content to lay here, twisted in knots.

Dedications

@jazzelsaur for instantly making this stupid joke an idea that morphed into something equal parts hot and ridiculous. You never ever shy away from encouraging me and supporting me, and I honestly don't understand how I got so lucky. Thanks for taking a simple joke and instantly being a whore about it. I love you so much. Please never ever change.

@astroboots Instantly said the words "WRITE IT" the second I snuck into discord and started making Star Wars jokes. Just like Jess, you never ever hesitate to encourage me, and I'm so thankful that you point that loving energy in my direction. You make me want to be better and your kindness and support are a constant inspiration. Love you, and I hope you enjoy this whore-ish moment.

@frannyzooey I really want to take a minute to thank Kelli for being so amazing and sweet. Every once in a while I sneak into your DM's or leave you a message and you're nothing short of sweet and wonderful and encouraging. And when I told you I was writing Din smut you were so excited and it got me even more excited. Other than flowerly little snips of character introspection, I don't hang out with Din much, and you inspire me to strive to try more. Thank you.

[autisticandroids]

i saw you asked what conservatives see in spn, I’m currently at mid s14 of rewatching spn with my right wing father and it’s is... absolutely a viewing experience. His favorite character is dean because my dad finds him personable and funny and he likes the older brother dynamic between him and Sam, and the relationship with John reminded him of his own dad. but my dad also REALLY loves castiel. Lazarus Rising is one of his favorite episodes just for Cas’ entrance, and he really really enjoyed like. girlboss s4-6 and 8 Cas killing people. and it’s incredibly strange because my dad is a Christian pastor, he does prison ministry for inmates every week. so I’d assumed he wouldn’t like cas as a character because his character development is about losing faith in God, but no my dad fucking loved it. he said it reminded him of his own abusive father and he became like... a castiel apologist. when we got to TMWWBK my dad kept saying that he “loves dean, but cas is right in this situation” until cas slaughtered the Republican campaign office lol. when the writers started nerfing Cas in season 9 my dad was annoyed and said “cas used to be so cool ://“, but then when we got to the episode Claire is introduced he changed his mind and said he liked that Cas who was formerly very violent and ‘would kill a child’ had calmed down and learned to love while the opposite happened to dean which cas was visibly saddened by. and at this point I wasn’t sure if my dad was reading it as queer because he also said shit like ‘cas is a christian character’ and then just didn’t elaborate. when we got to Amara he was fucking MAD that they’d given dean a love interest he said it wasn’t ‘satisfying to the plot, he doesn’t even know her”. when we got to Lily Sunder and the ‘I’ll cure you of your human weakness’ my dad was like ‘holy shit. is castiel (spanish slur for gay man).” and i just walked away lol cuz he knows that i am gay too. when I came back he said some shit to me like “listen i change my mind that word only applies to bad homosexuals” and then he was silent for a long time before saying “plus he isn’t even a man. see he was a woman before. also dean doesn’t feel like that so it’s just sad”. when we got to 12.22 and cas being stabbed by lucifer my dad like audibly fucking gasped and started yelling in spanish and did the old man thing where he leaned forward in his recliner. with the widower arc and dean being a little bitch to jack I forget which episode it was but my dad said “i think they are trying to show that he (dean) is acting like his father. because sometimes they compare characters, so I think dean is John and castiel is” and then he forgot Mary’s name for a moment so he said “castiel is his wife.” and then 5 seconds later he went “wait. wait” and paused the tv and just looked at me going “what the fuck. what the fuck. he’s Not Gay!!!! But he is the husband?’ absolutely insane viewing experience. when we got to Tombstone my dad told me “i hope he gets a new female body, because dean loves him but isn’t gay”. sorry that this was so long im unwell

BRO. BRO BRO BRO. EXCUSE ME? I LOVE THIS. 

[xiaosmoon]

dad/pregnancy headcanons

because i love dilfs <3

feat. childe & albedo

warnings: pregnancy

(afab reader)

when you first told childe you were pregnant, you were convinced he was going to explode from joy. he didn't believe you when you first told him

"there's really a baby in there?"

"yes, childe."

"...really?"

que death stare

he would be beyond helpful during your pregnancy. need to grab something? just stay put and he'll bring it to you. craving mac & cheese with pickles at the ass crack of dawn? he's already in the kitchen. he really just wants you to be as comfortable as you can be. he knows how to deal with your mood swings quite well (he grew up with quite a few siblings) and you always feel bad afterward but childe assures you that it's no big deal. as helpful as your loving husband is, you do get quite bored just sitting down all day and doing nothing. (this man wouldn't even let you cook for the first 3 months of your pregnancy. he claimed your belly getting too close to the stove would cook the baby.) so you convince him to accompany you on evening walks around your neighborhood. he was cautious at first of course. he's a fatui harbinger and anyone finding out about his pregnant wife would be bad news. but he gives in with a little convincing. overall, your pregnancy was quite the breeze.

childe would be the best dad. he's always wanted a big loving family and now his dream is slowly becoming a reality. the first time he held his baby was the best day of his life. the way his son wrapped his little delicate hand around childe's finger was the day he knew that he had a new person to care for. to love, cherish, and support. with all of the overwhelming love for his son, the dangers and fear lurked at the back of his mind. he was a fatui harbinger. it's funny how hands that have killed and slaughtered so much, are now holding something as precious and innocent as a new life. protecting you and his beloved son was now his number one priority.

he would hold his child over his shoulders all the time. he claims "the view is better when you can see everything!"

secretly spoiling the kid. i mean, come on. his pockets run very deep. who would he spend it on if not his own child?

"y/n, when can we have more babies? i mean look at this cutie! we do make cute kids don't you think?"

"you know, making babies is the fun part and i wouldn't mind-" oh look, a flying pillow heading straight for childe

once your son is older, childe will teach him combat. enough for him to protect himself

you and childe both agree that not telling your son about childe's real job is for the best. well at least until he's a bit older.

childe would make the sweetest, most fun, and caring dad <3

when you found out you were pregnant, you thought it was impossible. albedo had specifically told you that he couldn't procreate, so what was happening? you told albedo and he was just as confused as you. a week after being okay with it, you were both very happy. albedo called your unborn childe a miracle baby. for the first few months of your pregnancy, he would always rub your tummy. you could be cuddling on the couch and he would mindlessly be massaging and rubbing your baby bump gently. at night when he was sure you were asleep, he would talk to your stomach and plant gentle kisses on your exposed skin. "i love you very much. you're just going to be the cutest little thing, arent you? klee can't wait to play with you." you were sure your heart had exploded. but unlike childe, albedo wouldn't be the best with your mood swings. he would try his best to understand them, but it's just too much for the poor lad. you of course would apologize for your bursts of emotions but he assures you with a bunch of kisses that it's alright and you should just worry about your health. after that, albedo would busy himself with books, trying to understand as much as he could about pregnancy.

"hey y/n, did you know that babies cry in the womb?"

"albedo what the fuck."

sweet boy would do the absolute most for you during all of your trimesters.

albedo was in absolute awe when he first held your baby in his arms. wow, we really created this little little life, he would think. albedo was determined to find the meaning of life, it was surreal that he had helped create one. he kissed his baby gently on the forehead as they slept. they had his blonde hair, but your nose. he very much loved that. albedo doesn't know the first thing about being a father, but for his little baby, he would try.

albedo would a better father than he thought he would

you, of course, had no doubt

albedo would always listen to his child's stories and show them cool (and very safe) experiments in his lab

klee loved to spend time with your baby. she claims that she's practically gained a new sibling that she can play with!

albedo would listen to all of the babbles and endless nothingness of your baby like it was the most interesting thing in the world

he would also take notes of your baby. for research purposes he claims (wouldn't be albedo without some science)

once your child is old enough, he will allow them to come help in the lab with very minor tasks

while albedo is learning to be a father on the journey, he undoubtedly is doing a very well job

[lacheri]

when you can’t sleep at night // wake me (sequel)

pairing: captain!Levi x cadet!fem bodied reader

content: angst, canonverse, mentions and talks of death/portrayals of death, depictions of violence, blood, overall dark themes, unestablished relationship, fingering, mutual loss of virginities, overstimulation, takes place sometime before the 57th expedition (didn't follow an exact timeline), there is a lot of talks about dying in this, levi asks a lot of intrusive questions, minors DNI.

summary: levi finds he holds an affection to a certain cadet of his. you find that maybe the comfort of your captain can quiet the thoughts plaguing your mind, even if just for one night.

wc: 10.7k

The clouds were so fluffy, so white and pure as you longingly watched them swirl above you. Your entire body was numb, back flat against the dirt with all your limbs stretched out. Your brain felt fuzzy, and for a fleeting moment you were flying in the clouds. You could feel the water vapor skim past your fingertips, the air whooshing against you as you soared. You looked down at the earth beneath your form, all the trees and even the walls looked so tiny from this height. This peaceful daydream was pulled from you with a start, your chest heaving with coughs.

“I’m so sorry!” you heard a voice call out, your line of vision intruded by the hazy form of a person leering over you. “I didn’t mean to hit you like that!”

“‘S okay,” you choked out, the numbness fading into aches all over your body. “I’ve gotten you good a couple of times too, Eren.”

“You know what, on second thought,” Eren’s lips spread into a smirk as he extended a hand down. “Consider this payback for beating my ass all those times in the Training Corps.”

“Good on you for finally landing a hit,” you chuckled, wincing as he hauled you to your feet. “Only took you three years.”

You rocked on your ankles, steadying yourself quickly before your legs gave out on you. Eren had gotten you good, roundhouse kicking you in your chest to lay you out on your ass. His training sessions had begun to pay off, used to the reverse happening when the two of you sparred. Mikasa would look on intently, a small smile on her lips when you’d punch Eren’s smug face with a sharp hook. You and 104th cadets were a friendly, strong group, bonded over the horrors of the titans, especially after what happened in Trost.

“What are you brats doing out here?”

Your heads whipped in the direction of the strong voice, meeting the steely hard set eyes of Levi, your captain and soon to be squad leader. His arms were crossed, and you gulped upon taking notice of how his biceps strained under the grey linen of his button up. You quickly flickered your focus back to his eyes before he caught you eyeing him up.

“Just sparring,” Eren hadn’t released the grip on your hand, nor had he noticed he was still holding onto your palm as he addressed the superior. “Prepping for the mission tomorrow.”

Levi frowned, “And who told you it was okay to do so when I gave you cadets instruction to clean the headquarters from top to bottom?”

You pulled your hand from Eren’s as you responded, “Sorry, Captain Levi. We’ll get on it right away.”

Levi only let out a displeased ‘tch’ as he turned on his heels, walking away without further commentary. Eren shot you an eye roll, and you held back a snicker as the pair of you followed shortly after the ravenette. Maybe the two of you had snuck away to leave the rest of your comrades to attack the former Survey Corps headquarters with dusters and cleaning rags, not wanting to participate in your weekly assigned duties. Eren had been adamant in the cobwebbed hallway on the second floor that he had to practice his hand to hand combat, just in case your squads ran into some problems on tomorrow’s mission. You had eagerly agreed, wanting to be as far away from the unsettled dust that assaulted your nostrils, itching at your allergies.

As the three of you entered the building, Levi abruptly turned to the two of you trailing behind him, you and Eren jumping in fright, “Eren, go to the dining hall, you’re going to wipe down underneath all the tables. As for you, brat, you get the honor of cleaning my room.”

Eren shot you a sympathetic look discreetly, nodding to your captain as he hightailed it to the hall.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, alone now with the captain. He studied you for a brief moment, gesturing with his head for you to follow him. Your feet moved before your mind could will you, and the soft thuds of your footsteps across the wooden planks of the floor was all that was heard. You snuck glances at the man before you, taking notice that his undercut was slightly grown in, his longer hair uncharacteristically out of place. Levi looked disheveled in a way, his tan leather jacket creased.

You opened your mouth to make a comment, but decided against it in the end. You were going to offer your assistance, to help freshen up his fade and to do his laundry, but figured Levi was a grown man who could take care of himself. You had a soft spot for the man, humanity’s strongest soldier. You knew a title like that came with a weight you could not fathom, especially after the horrors you had seen at Trost when the titans broke through the walls. You could remember everything so clearly, almost as if it was happening right now. You had nearly died that day.

Your older age amongst your fellow cadets was not one of gain you found out. After learning about the tragedy of Wall Maria, the wall closest to your village, it inspired you to join the Survey Corps in order to help the world. Humanity was dying, almost completely obliterated. Distant family members had died in Shiganshina that day, and the reality of the titans weighed heavily on you. How could you sit idly by as the world you knew was being destroyed before your very eyes? What would’ve happened had that attack been on your small village instead of the Shiganshina district? How would you have protected your own?

So with those thoughts in mind, you joined the training corps. Your parents had disagreed with broken hearts, knowing the likely fate of your choices. Your mother had insisted that you were of ripe marrying age, and that they had no other children to carry your family name. They begged and pleaded for you to settle down and find a husband, to help humanity in a different way by bearing children. You knew this was just a fantasy, and you knew it would be entirely possible that if you were to follow their wishes, the family you would create would be devoured and destroyed. This was the only way you could help, no matter your age or being in your reproductive prime. You needed to slaughter the titans, one by one until none remained. You kissed your beloved family goodbye the day you left for training, and you frequently sent them letters to let them know you were well and alive. One day, they all were returned back to you as you sat in the barracks, and one of the captains informed you that your village was destroyed, your parents and friends from home all dead.

You thought of them as you sliced through a five meter titan’s nape in Trost, your first kill. The citizens of the district ran stampeding in retreat, and caught up in the heat of it all, you had failed to account for the seven meter barreling behind you. When it’s burning fingers wrapped around your body, you sobbed, preparing to meet your family in the afterlife, whatever that would look like. You could feel the hot spats of drool hit your cheeks as the titan opened its mouth, bearing teeth and a cruel grin, and then suddenly, you were flying, caught in the arms of a savior. You stared in disbelief at the cut off fingers on the graveled stone of the street, to only be brought out of this state as Mikasa held you close and questioned if you were alright.

After the dust settled and the casualties were counted, you could feel a fire blazing deep within you. You never wanted to be vulnerable like that ever again, you wanted to be strong like Mikasa. Then, you met Captain Levi. You didn’t know much about him, but his reputation spoke volumes. You wanted the strength of the Ackermans whom you so deeply admired. You begged Commander Erwin to be assigned to Levi’s squad, and your wish was granted. You had been in the top rankings of your class, and you had a solo kill under your belt, aside from the near fatal clutch of another titan. Most of all, you had survived, a bigger feat than most of your comrades.

“Oi, you done daydreaming?” Levi’s cool voice brought you out of your train of thoughts as you arrived outside a wooden door, presumably his temporary living space.

“Sorry, just thinking,” you mumbled as he opened the door.

“Didn’t think you were capable of that. All the supplies are in the box on my desk, I want this room spotless, I don’t care how long it takes,” your captain grumbled as he made strides to his desk in the center of the room.

The room was fairly large, a double bed pressed against the left wall and the dark wooden desk was littered in paperwork. Half filled bookshelves lined the right wall, some mismatched couches and chairs filled the empty space. Honestly, the space was nearly perfect, even the bed was made. You knew better than to point this out to your superior though, so you had simply nodded and began to sort through the various cleaning supplies.

The scratch of Levi’s pen filled the hour long silence as you worked, dusting every surface and wiping it down with disinfectant spray and an old rag. After sweeping thoroughly, you flickered your eyes to the single window in the entire room, surprised completely as the sun had nearly set. The two of you were probably going to miss dinner, you realized as Levi poked his head up from the pile of papers he was concentrated on, a clear look of distaste on his features.

“This is what you call clean?” he spat, running a hand through his bangs. “Mop the floors, cadet.”

You sighed, feeling the subtle growl of hunger in the pit of your stomach. The mop laid in the left corner by the bedroom door, where you had found the broom. You swapped the two, picking up a bucket on the floor. You filled the wooden container with disinfectant, not seeing any polish in the box Levi had provided. He only rolled his eyes at seeing this, but said nothing. At least the floor would be clean.

Levi had lit a few lamps around the room to provide lighting as the sun dipped lower in the sky, swallowing the room in darkness. The floor was sparkling as you finished the last spot, a feeling of satisfaction filling your chest.

“Better?” you interrupted his concentration. He gazed around the room silently, face blank.

“Much,” Levi finally spoke. “That’ll be all, cadet.”

You smiled, setting the cleaning supplies back to their original locations, “Do you want me to bring you anything? I’m going down to grab dinner.”

Levi’s eyes widened at the question, not expecting your offer, “Some tea would be fine. Don’t fuck it up either, brat.”

You nodded as he dismissed you, and you treaded down the stairwell from the second floor to the kitchens. Some of the other cadets littered the dining hall as you passed, seeing some of your comrades laughing at a table, but you paid them no mind. In the kitchen there was hardly any leftover food from the dinner, scraps of potatoes sat in a large bowl on one of the counterspaces. You sighed, scarfing down whatever was available while you set a rusted kettle to a flame. The water was boiled within minutes, and you poured it over tea leaves in two teacups. You cleaned up your mess, and made your way back to Levi’s room.

You knocked twice on the door, hearing his grunt to signal you to enter. Levi was still positioned in his chair at his desk, head in his hands as he scanned over his documents. You placed his cup down silently, ready to leave the man to his work.

“Why are you here, cadet?” your captain called out as you went to open the door.

You turned your head to look at him, his eyes never leaving the words of his papers, “What do you mean, captain?”

“The Survey Corps,” he clarified, finally making eye contact. “Why?”

“To save humanity, sir?” you didn’t mean to speak as if you were questioning him, but your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

He scoffed, setting his paperwork aside, “Humanity, huh? You’re a bit too old to be in the graduating class you’re currently in. Why join now?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m confused,” your body was facing his entirely now. “Why are you asking me these questions?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense,” he more so mumbled to himself. “You shouldn’t be here. You should be pregnant with your first born, with a husband. Instead, you’re here, trying to fight titans.”

“With all due respect, Captain,” your voice was laced with controlled anger. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Aren’t you scared?” Levi continued, ignoring your question. “You could’ve picked the easy way.”

“It would’ve been in vain. My village was wiped out shortly after Wall Maria fell.”

He hummed, his hands coming down to rest on the wooden notches of his desk, papers forgotten, “You were in the top ranks. You could’ve joined the military police.”

“And hear how my comrades died instead of helping them?” you gawked.

“It’s a lot better than watching.”

You shut your mouth then, lips pressing tightly together. You didn’t understand why your captain was questioning you like this.

“I see the way you are with them,” his tone softened, not looking you in the eyes as he spoke. “How you all are.”

“Just because I’m friendly doesn’t mean I’ll forget the purpose of the scouts,” you said defensively, crossing your arms. “I have my own ass to account for.”

Levi pushed off his chair suddenly, scraping the just mopped floor and jolting up to his legs, “You have no idea what it’s like out there. Your friends are going to die, cadet. There’ll be nothing you can do to save them. Are you prepared for that? Collecting their bodies, or whatever’s left of them to take home to their families?”

Your mouth went dry, jaw slacking, “Captain, I know what loss feels like. My family is dead, some of my so called ‘friends’ died in Trost. I know what I signed up for.”

He scoffed, circling around his desk to stand a few feet away from you, “Haven’t you seen enough?”

“Are you trying to get me to quit the Survey Corps?” you asked incredulously.

“Yes. You don’t belong here,” his tone was rough as he spat at you. “Go find a husband. Get the fuck out of the military.”

“I don’t want to,” your anger simmered as you stared down at your boots. “I don’t have a home to go back to. I can’t leave. I know the other cadets aren’t my friends. I’m just trying to make the best out of my life before I die. I know I’m going to die. What’s so wrong about trying to find comfort in others?”

“You are a fool,” he seethed, teeth clenched. “You want to die?”

You shook your head, not bothering to keep the conversation going, “I’m going to bed, Captain. I’ll see you tomorrow for the mission.”

“I didn’t dismiss you, cadet,” Levi towered over you now as your hand wrapped around the doorknob.

You brought your fist up to your chest in a salute as you began to exit, “With absolutely no disrespect, I’m exhausted. Have a good night, Captain.”

You pushed the door shut in front of you as you stood in the hallway. You knew you would be getting an ear full from Levi in the morning, but honestly, the conversation was beginning to stir up feelings you’d rather not address. Intrusive thoughts filled your mind as you made your way to the first floor where your temporary bedroom resided.

You couldn’t answer Levi’s question because in a way, in a very selfish train of thought, you didn’t want to be a part of the titan’s world anymore, whether that meant death or something else. How easy it would be for you to greedily pack your things and leave the military and take refuge in some random village to live out the rest of your days, however long they would be. Or to just simply become fodder for the titans in your quest to rid the world of their reign.

Your uniform was folded on your bedside table, a cotton shirt and shorts on your body as you sat on your bed over the covers. You could hear the soft snores of Christa as she slumbered peacefully in the bed across the room, and you gazed over her body under her covers. You knew the people you trained with, fought with, grew fond of, were not your friends. How could they be? It’d only make things harder in the end. Like Levi had said, you might be the one collecting their deceased bodies after a battle. How could you ever grow close to someone that you knew their days were numbered?

The 104th cadets were your comrades, not your makeshift family. You had to remind yourself of that every time Sasha would ask for your leftovers, batting her big eyes at you. When Eren would spar with you, telling you how strong you were and commending you on how far you had come since the first day of the Training Corps. How Mikasa literally saved your life, and how you had admired her ever since. Armin’s unmatched potential and growth. Jean’s relentless taunting, giving you the nickname of gram because of your age. Connie, well frankly, just being Connie. Reiner and Bertholdt’s strong will and passion. Annie’s unwavering willpower and prowess. All the other cadets who you’d gotten to know so well, you had to constantly imagine their corpses as they smiled at you and tried to get to know you. So, you stayed back, opting to be alone at any opportunity, so their deaths would be easier to swallow when the time came.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to try and rid yourself of your thoughts. It was of no use, and with a sigh you pushed yourself out of your bed. You deemed it would be yet again another sleepless night, and you realized sadly you had left your tea cup in Levi’s office completely untouched. You didn’t bother to entertain the thought of going back to retrieve it, instead you slinked through your bedroom door and out of the headquarters.

The night air was chilly, and you felt regret for not grabbing your jacket on your way out. The moon was gone, a completely black night, and you could see the stars crystal clear. The sky was your favorite sight, especially on nights like this.

You found a nice patch of soft grass, and laid on your back to gaze up at the sky. This was always your comfort, even as a child, to go outside and watch the sky, day or night. Your mother would warn you that your eyes would fall out of your head if you stared too long at the sun, at the moon. You didn’t care, because in those moments you felt so free. Free of the walls that caged you inside, of the world around you. You were the clouds, the stars, the wind as it rolled past. Maybe you were never meant to be human, you mused. You were meant to be nature, never to experience the trials and tribulations of sentinel living. You were supposed to be free, all knowing and ignorant at the same time, existing without the weight of consciousness.

“Thought you were going to bed, cadet?”

You were startled by the boom of a familiar voice behind you, collecting yourself and clearing your throat, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Levi’s head bobbed into your field of vision, “Thought too hard today?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling guilty as you caught the action afterwards and hoped your captain wouldn’t find it as a disrespect, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Why are you out here of all places, without a jacket?” out of the corner of your eye you watched as Levi brought himself down to sit next to you.

“I like watching the sky,” you put simply, trying not to make eye contact. “Makes me feel better.”

“About dying?” he said, and you knew that he wouldn’t let your previous conversation go. You decided to humor him, if only to get these thoughts out of your mind.

“Yes.”

“Like what?” he almost sounded uninterested, but from his line of questioning you knew he was anything but.

“I don’t want to die,” you admitted, digging your fingernails into the grass by your waist. “I don’t want to watch anyone die. I never wanted to join the military. I felt like I had no choice.”

“We always have a choice,” he leaned his back to see whatever had your attention draw above you.

“Either fight the titans or get eaten alive when they attack the walls?” you snorted. “What a hard decision to make.”

“Why’d you join the Survey Corps?” he asked once again.

“I didn’t want my family’s death to be in vain. I had cousins, aunts and uncles in Shiganshina.”

“What about your death?”

“I hope it’ll mean something,” you breathed, feeling your chest get tight. “I hope this all will mean something.”

Levi looked at you then, a glimmer of something you couldn’t identify in his eyes, “You sound like Erwin when you talk like that.”

You made eye contact, a small smile on your lips, “The Commander’s an amazing man. I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

Levi scoffed, “Take it as you will.”

“What else could I do? I’m trying so hard to make a difference, to make life easier for others so they don’t have to suffer this fate. Isn’t that why we all joined the Survey Corps?” you continued your train of thought. “Maybe we all have a death wish. Fuck, I know I have one. It all just fucking hurts, Captain. I can’t help but think of others all the time, of all the loss and the grief they've gone through, what I’ve been through. At what will keep happening until all the titans are gone for good.”

“Why the sky?” he changed the subject, seemingly bored of your repetitive narrative.

“Because there’s no titans up there,” you joked without humor. “There’s no walls, no boundaries, no rules. It’s never ending. Where are the stars? How does day and night occur? Where does the moon go when the sun’s out? It amazes me, that’s all. Makes me think of how big the world is, of what’s out there besides this.”

“You think too much for a brainless brat,” Levi grumbled, laying on his back and joining you.

“I know,” you chuckled, turning your body to face him. “Wish I could turn off all my thoughts, it would probably make life a whole lot more livable.”

He hummed, eyes drawn in to your face, “I understand. What you said earlier, too, about finding comfort in others.”

“What do you mean?” you propped your head on your hand and you positioned your elbow to support you.

“I guess I never thought about it before tonight,” he blinked, expression unreadable. “Life as a soldier isn’t a comforting one. I guess that’s what I was trying to tell you about.”

You read between the lines of his words, recognizing it as his form of an apology, “I know. But it’s still the life I chose. At least I’m trying to make a difference, we all are.”

“Y’know, I’ve been paying attention to you for some time now. I didn’t understand when Erwin came to me and told me you had asked to be put on my squad. I took a look in your file, and I saw you after the attack on Trost, and I still didn’t understand,” Levi spoke slowly. “I don’t think I get you at all, even now.”

“I don’t think I understand myself,” you laughed dryly, returning your attention to the sky.

“You should get some sleep, cadet,” he advised softly, pushing himself off the ground. “And for fuck’s sake do it soon, I won’t be taking care of your ass if you get a cold.”

Levi stalked off before you could utter a response. You sighed, and decided his words were wise enough to follow. A few moments after your captain had left you, you followed his pathway back to the entrance of the former headquarters. You entered, making a hasty retreat back to your room where Christa was still knocked out cold.

Under your covers, you replayed your conversations with Levi. You still couldn’t figure out why he had questioned you like he had, why he even cared in the first place. Maybe it was his own gnawing curiosity, trying to understand why some random twenty-something year old girl insisted on being in his squad like you had. Maybe, you thought egotistically, you had your own reputation. You inwardly snorted, probably not.

Images of your captain under the moonlight played beneath your eyelids as you finally managed to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

The mission had gone horribly wrong. At least for you, to be honest you had no idea where the rest of your comrades were as you raced on your horse, desperately searching the sky for flares. You hadn’t seen a single one in a while now, at least ten minutes, and your heart was thudding hard as thoughts that the entire fleet of soldiers you had joined had been decimated. You were completely alone, the walls distant behind you. All you knew is that you couldn’t stop, couldn’t turn around or else you’d really be lost.

The 104th had stayed behind at the former headquarters, this having been a smaller expedition to clear out some titans before the planned 57th expedition in a few weeks. Levi, Oluo, Petra, and Gunther, as well as a few other squads accompanying you, were in a near perfect formation when an abnormal titan had broken through, killing a few unnamed soldiers at your side that you had never met before today.

In the far left distance, you could see a large forest full of trees. Your jaw slacked open, relief running through your veins when you caught sight of some men on horses heading that direction. Green flares shot up high in the sky, and you pulled the reins of your mare to follow. Your plan was brought to a screeching halt though, as you heard the thunderous footsteps shake your horse, and your body. You threw a glance behind your shoulder, a ten meter titan running straight towards you. You reached to your side quickly, shooting a red flare above you to warn any close by comrades.

The titan was gaining speed, about a dozen yards now behind you. You really wanted to avoid confrontation was much as possible, but as those yards closed between you and the titan, you growled and prepared yourself. You gave your horse a soft pat on her neck, and heaved yourself to stand on the saddle. You gaged your surroundings, seeing complete flat plains all around you, not an ideal situation for fighting at all.

Your odm gear shot you straight to the titan’s legs, a plan instilled in your head on the best way to take it down. It was fairly thin and muscular, but you decided it was just a plain titan as it dumbly stared at you with its wicked grin. Your dual blades locked in your hands now, you swung behind the titan and sliced through its ankles. The ten meter fell swiftly, giving you the perfect opportunity to land on its nape and kill it. It stilled completely beneath you after your swift cuts, and you ran as fast as your body willed you to rejoin your mare.

You placed your fingers to your lips, whistling as loud as you could. Your horse, at least 100 feet away, perked its ears and turned at a rapid speed straight back to you. She neighed as she reached your form, and you hauled yourself back on her saddle, kicking your legs for her to break into a full gallop to where the green flares still lingered in the air.

You didn’t bother to signal another flare in the air, seeing no other flares around you. As you neared closer to the forest, you felt incredibly relieved at the sight of your squad, now able to make out their faces. Petra waved her hands high in the air, about 20 feet away now. You saw Oluo, Gunther, and Levi, unharmed, as you got closer, bringing your horse down to a slightly slower gait, seeing no titans around.

“Are you okay?” Petra shouted at you once you reached the group. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay!” you spoke as fast as you could. “The other cadets I was with were killed by an abnormal, I got split up from them.”

“What was that red flare?” Oluo questioned, worry riddled in his eyes.

“It’s fine, I killed it,” you breathed shakily. “Where are the others?”

“Retreating back to the walls,” Levi answered, voice hard and commanding. “We’re out of blades, and there've been too many casualties. The others have the deceased’s bodies.”

You and your squad nodded, and with no further delay, you broke your horses into a full sprint back to the walls. The sun hung low in the sky, sunset merely a few hours away. Now in a formation in the clear open plains, you noticed out of the corner of your eye some movement.

“Abnormal titan to the right!” you screamed, turning your head to watch the titan’s arms flail, running in an irregular pattern.

“Holy fuck,” Gunther’s eyes widened in horror, shooting a black flare into the sky. “That’s got to be a 15 meter!”

“Don’t engage!” Levi barked, eyes trained straight ahead at the walls. “Keep an eye on it!”

“Sir!” the four of you quipped.

It seemed the abnormal titan had other plans as it caught sight of the five of you, its pace changing with intentions.

“It’s heading straight towards us!” Petra called out, flickering her eyes between the running titan and your captain. “Orders, Captain?”

Levi kept silent, much to your horrors. It was only a few yards away now, speed not slowing. Levi’s attention was completely ahead, the walls almost in full view. You were so close, not close enough though and the abnormal titan’s legs moved faster.

“Captain Levi!” Oluo shouted, eyebrows shot into his hairline.

The titan was less than three yards away when Levi finally spoke, “Petra, Oluo, make it fast!”

You shot off your horse before Levi’s lips opened, his commands unheard by you. Your odm ropes attached right into the titan’s ankles, just like how you had done before. There’s a reason they called it an abnormal titan though you discovered as its fingers closed around the wiring of your gear, yanking the ropes out of its skin and hauling your body up.

You squirmed, mashing your buttons desperately to get your hooks out of its fist as you were brought to the titan’s mouth. It was an ugly son of a bitch, teeth on full display in its evil smile. You couldn’t believe how badly you had fucked up again, the titan’s other hand gaining momentum as it lifted to wrap its disgusting meaty fingers around you. You watched as the fingers were sliced off before they could reach you, and suddenly you were free falling as the hand holding your odm ropes fell from its arm. You redirected yourself back to its ankles, back to your original plan of taking out the nerves to allow the titan to fall, your nerves entirely shot, your adrenaline in full control.

Levi had both his swords drawn as he met you at the back of the 15 meter’s legs, “Are you trying to get yourself fucking killed? You should’ve let the others handle it!”

“I thought I had it, Captain!” you curtly shouted, cutting through the tendons and getting sprayed with steaming blood. The titan did not falter though, but thankfully you and Levi had created a useful diversion as Petra, and Oluo took out the titan’s nape. You and your group shot back to your horses as the titan fell from its height, dead on impact.

The opening of the gate of Wall Rose was a fucking blessing, and your squad couldn’t have ran through it any faster. You heard the roaring of the gate as it closed behind you, and you were choking on shallow breaths as you slowed your mare’s gait.

None of you spoke a single word as you returned to the former headquarters, exhausted after the adrenaline of your mission wore off. You returned your horses to the stables, where feed and water awaited them. Your squad practically ran off, and you were confused until you saw the pissed off look of your superior aimed directly at you. Gulping down spit, you turned on your heel, ready to take off.

Levi’s arm shot out around your bicep, harshly tugging you to stop your escape, “Are you a fucking idiot, cadet? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I thought I could take out the titan by its ankles!” you defended quickly, gritting your teeth as his fingers dug into your clothed arm. “It’s how I took out the other titan I killed, Captain!”

“You better learn quickly that all titans are not the same! Or did you not learn that in training?” Levi growled out between clenched teeth.

“I thought I could take it out,” you grumbled, ripping your arm out of his grip.

“You betrayed my orders. You listen to me and my commands, cadet,” he spat out, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes burning holes into yours. “Remember your place.”

You pivoted yourself away from your captain, trotting ahead to head inside the headquarters, voice laced with malice as you grumbled, “I’ll do as I see fit.”

This would be the second time Levi hadn’t dismissed you before leaving him behind, you realized as you arrived at the communal bathroom. You sighed heavily, leaning back against the closed door, completely alone. Thankfully, it was very late in the evening, and if your comrades weren’t in bed already, they would be heading to sleep soon. You were so relieved to get some much needed alone time, especially now that you had such a terrible day.

You changed out of your blood soaked uniform, not bothering to fold it as you laid the clothes on the floor. Stark naked, you began to fill the bathtub basin with running water, a very rare luxury due to the previous care when the headquarters was up and running. With the porcelain half filled, the water steaming, you sunk your aching body into the scalding bath. The water turned a deep pink as you scrubbed your skin with a rag that had been resting over the rim. You untied your hair and dipped your head back, threading your fingers through your knots after generously coating the strands with soap. You drained the dirty water, refilling it back up now that most of the dirt and blood had been washed away. The tub held a pastel pink hue now, but you felt much cleaner and you sunk back in the tub, stretching out as much as you could.

You didn’t dare close your eyes for too long, picturing the events of today. You didn’t try to reflect on the lives that had been lost on today’s mission, the strangers you never had the pleasure, or perhaps displeasure, of getting to know. It made it easier in a sense to forget, to keep pushing forward. Still, the gore and the cruelty of what being a part of the scouts was truly about haunted the corners of your mind as you absentmindedly rubbed soap along your limbs. Maybe you were trying to wash away these memories, too.

Half an hour later, you decided it was time to dry off and get into comfortable clothing as the water cooled and your skin had pruned. You unplugged the drain, standing and reaching for a towel. Wrapping the fabric around your chest, you stepped out of the tub, feet leaving wet prints on the floor as you treaded to your bedroom, soiled clothes in hand.

An oversized white long sleeve hung off your frame, accompanied by your favorite cotton shorts as you sat on your bed, completely alone. Christa had briefly mentioned before your mission this morning that she’d be spending the night with Ymir, to which you were inwardly grateful for the promise of solidarity. As you sat hunched over, you found yourself longing for the comforting presence of someone, anyone, to distract you from the images that plagued your mind, no matter how hard you tried to push them away.

You jerked with a start as you pictured the angry face of your captain, feeling immense guilt pool in your gut. You had never spoken so much with Levi before yesterday, realizing the weight of your words and actions, reckless and undermining his authority. Maybe you owed him an apology, for if nothing else to at least calm your mind enough for sleep.

You didn’t remember the walk when you had arrived outside the captain’s door, or could recall if you had knocked before it swung open, revealing Levi’s surprised expression.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, nervously tugging at your sleeves as you avoided eye contact. “I’ve been disrespectful, Captain, and I’m sorry.”

“Cadet,” his teeth clenched tightly. “Do you understand what time it is?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you whimpered, legs ready for a moment's notice of a retreat. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave—“

Levi’s hand shot out to circle your wrist, and you finally looked up into his charcoal eyes, “Don’t, come in.”

You couldn’t protest as you guided you into his room, shutting the door behind you after you passed the entry. Levi was dressed casually, beige cotton shirt hanging off his torso, plain grey pants on his lower half. The bags under his eyes told you he had also not been able to fall asleep. He led you to sit on his neatly made bed, towering over you with his arms tightly crossed.

“I was on my way to check on you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What?”

“You didn’t knock,” Levi clarified, looking anywhere but at you. “I was already at the door. You’d seen a lot today. I don’t need my soldiers having breakdowns after every mission.”

He was worried about you, your breath halted in your throat.

“Oh,” you dumbly said.

“Seems like you did me a favor by coming here,” he mused, sighing as he ran a hand through his bangs. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“Thinking, again, about everything,” you crossed your thighs, body language signally how uncomfortable you were upon talking about these feelings.

“Your brain is going to cause you more grief if you don’t stop,” Levi’s spare hand grasped your chin gently, bringing your head up so you could look him in the eyes. “Why do you insist on being alone with these thoughts?”

“Captain, weren’t you just saying it’s a bad idea to have friends?” you could feel the pounding of your heart in your chest at his gesture, unsure of his intentions.

“Weren't you just talking about finding comfort in others?” Levi leaned down, you felt his breath against your lips as he spoke. “I’ve been paying attention to you for awhile, cadet.”

“You looked in my file, you told me already,” you whispered, unsure that if you spoke at full volume your voice wouldn’t quiver.

“No, I’ve been watching you. You’re not exactly quiet when you sneak out at night, y’know. I’ve seen you,” he hesitated briefly before continuing. “I’ve watched you cry all alone, how you try to distance yourself from the others. I was testing you yesterday, brat. I think I understand now, though.”

Your captain crouched down to meet you at eye level, fingertips never straying from your chin, and you felt your lip quiver as he rasped, “I understand, because I get it. You’ve always felt alone, haven't you?”

You nodded, scared to voice the truth, he continued, “I’m not going to explain myself to you, and if I hear a single word spoken about any of our conversations, I will personally sign your extermination paperwork. You’re different, you’re not like the others. You know what grief is, what pain and loss feels like. Your mission, your goals, it keeps driving you forward. Who couldn’t notice that?”

Levi scoffed, and you managed out a tiny, “Captain Levi.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you telling me this?” you could feel the harsh prick of tears try to escape your eyes, blinking furiously to not allow them to fall.

“Because,” he brushed back your hair behind your ear with his spare hand. “We’re exactly the same, and I can’t allow you to continue living like this, knowing where you’ll end up. Are you a virgin, cadet?”

“Yes,” you stuttered, thoroughly embarrassed.

“I am too,” Levi confessed, his eyes baring his soul. “I’m in my thirties, and I’ve never taken a woman to bed. All because of my mission.”

“My parents raised me to save myself for marriage,” your lips hung open. “But, they’re dead now, and I’ll probably never be married.”

“Cadet?” Levi’s hand came up from your chin to rest his palm against your cheek. “You talk about choices, you told me about how you never followed the path set for you. Why don’t you allow yourself some peace, some comfort? If not for yourself, for others, for your fellow comrades?”

“Are you asking to fuck me, sir?” your body felt heavy, uncomfortably numb but you couldn’t will yourself to move an inch, your mind was frazzled.

“I’m asking for permission to comfort you, both of us. I’m tired of being alone, aren’t you?” his face had fallen completely, and you were in awe of how open and raw Levi was.

You didn’t answer him, instead pushing his hands off of your face to capture his cheeks in your own hands, forcing your lips together. Fuck the world, fuck the titans, fuck every single thing that dared to bother you and your existence. You were tired, tired of denying yourself pleasures and comfort and basic human interaction. Who cared if you all died? Would it be for naught that you had never gotten to know your comrades? What would be the point in dying for your military if you didn’t have a motivation, a passion driving you? You were so fucking lonely, and Levi was too as he crashed his lips against yours, wrapping his long arms around your back to hold you closer.

You felt the older ravenette pull away for a moment, tugging his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred and muscular chest. You ran your fingers over his middle slowly, taking in every dip and every flex of his body. Levi was beautiful, and you felt honored that you were here in this moment, with a man who had heard more of your thoughts and feelings than any person before. He stopped your hands as they came to his pecks, pushing your arms high to remove your own shirt.

Your nipples hardened meeting the cold air, exposed now in the dim candle light. You didn’t dare cover yourself, nor did Levi let you get the chance. His hands were all over your chest within an instant, caressing and groping as his lips met yours once again. You hadn’t bothered to tell Levi that he was your first kiss, the first man to see you naked, the first man who had shown genuine interest in you and your body. Maybe you’d tell him later, but for now, you just wanted to quell the thoughts swarming your mind.

You stood quickly, maneuvering your lips to the side of his exposed neck. Your kisses were sweet, innocent and pure as Levi began to pull your shorts off, your panties accompanying the fabric. You kicked out of them as Levi grabbed the back of your head, groaning as he slammed your mouths together once more in an open kiss.

Your hands were everywhere on his skin, trying desperately to remember every single detail, knowing that this would most likely be a one time thing. You knew the risks of becoming entangled in a romantic relationship in the military, more so the scouts. Levi or you, or anyone, could die at any moment. This only motivated you further in your desire, ripping down his pants, mildly surprised to see your captain not wearing any underpants.

Levi breathily mumbled as he grasped your waist and led you flat on your back atop his bed, “I thought you were dead today.”

“I’m not, and neither are you,” you hushed his spoken thoughts with another passionate kiss. He tasted minty from his tea, smelled of woodsy musk from his obvious earlier shower, his touch so soft as he grazed your body up and down.

You felt his knees between your legs as he loomed over you, pushing apart your thighs at the force. His right hand stroked your cheek as his tongue prodded past your willing lips, swollen from his attention. His left hand ventured south, resting upon the curve of your hip, digging his fingers to feel the supple flesh.

“You’re quite beautiful, y’know,” he mirrored your earlier ministrations, placing sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck. “One of the reasons I was so fascinated by you, I couldn’t understand how you weren’t married.”

“Maybe in another life,” you simply put, attention drawn to how sinful his lips felt against your flushed skin. He sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, and a whimper left your lips at the contact. You could feel your center slicken, cold air consuming all of your exposed skin. Levi’s hand dared closer and closer to your desire, and you made out the distinguished poke of his manhood against your lower stomach.

When his fingertips nudged against your folds, Levi let out a groan of pleasure, “You’re so wet, cadet. I’ve barely touched you.”

“Captain, I need this,” you begged, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him flush against you. “Please, distract me, make me forget.”

Levi felt no need to answer your pleads, instead allowing his fingers to familiarize himself with your most intimate of parts. His eyes stayed trained on yours, taking in every expression you made, one catching his focus immediately as his pointer finger circled the top of your folds. It felt like a button, and you started moaning desperately as he continued his circling.

“Feels good?” your captain asked, insecurity in the back of his mind.

“Yes,” you took your right hand away from Levi’s neck, grabbing his wrist that was in between your legs, dipping his fingers to your dripping entrance. “Need you here.”

He plunged his pointer and middle fingers in, and your velveteen walls clenched around him. You had pleasured yourself many times just like this, but the heightened pleasure of someone else’s knuckles deep inside you was incredible. No one had ever touched you like this before, looked at you so lovingly and so lustfully. His fingers scissored inside you, and you knew your patience would soon snap.

When Levi’s fingers curled upwards, you thought you were going to pass out. Your eyes screwed shut as loud mewls left your lips, Levi’s free hand covering your mouth. Your hips bucked upwards in his touch, hips rolling fast as your clit caught the fat of his palm. You could feel the familiar bubble of your climax, threatening to spill over as you arched your back.

Levi pulled his fingers from your weeping cunt then, so agonizingly slowly, “No, cadet. Not yet.”

You whined, pressure settling down in your abdomen as Levi took his soaking hand to his hard cock. You couldn’t believe that you hadn’t paid attention to his girth before, he was gorgeous. All the hard work and all the violence had sculpted your captain as if he were a statue. His length stood at full attention, pressed against his belly, his balls hanging in the free space between his thick thighs. You moaned at the sight of Levi stroking himself, seeing the glisten of your arousal coat him. He let out a strangled groan, before letting himself go, falling unceremoniously to capture your lips once again.

“You ready?” Levi asked permission, his kiss so sweet and tender, and you realized then the weight of all of this. You were about to lose your virginities to each other, he would forever hold a mark on you.

You smiled, so full of adoration, there wasn’t anyone else you’d rather be with right now as you spoke, “Yes, sir.”

Levi gripped the base of his dick, bumping the engorged head against your sensitive clit and through your folds as he coated himself more in your essence. You both knew this was going to hurt you, and had either of you not been in such a hurry, you’d take the time to mutually pleasure each other until your bodies were truly ready for this intimate act. There were no coherent thoughts in this moment, only pure passion and animalistic desire.

His tip sunk in, and you felt like you were going to be split in half. Your hands shot up to his arms, nails leaving half crescents on his biceps, your ankles hooking together on his ass as you tensed up at the pain.

“Relax,” he kissed your jaw with a groan. “Gonna’ take care of you.”

You nodded, focusing on his words instead of the pain. Your pelvic floor relaxed, and Levi was able to push himself deeper into your cavern.

“There’s no blood?” Levi questioned you curiously as he glanced down to where your bodies met, not moving even a centimeter to allow you to adjust.

The pain was quickly fading as you mumbled, “Probably broke my hymen on a goddamn horse.”

You both let out a breathy laugh, and Levi’s right hand came to stroke your cheek, pushing back your hair out of your face, “I’ll have to kill that horse then.”

You were rattling your brain for a witty response to your captain when Levi shifted, stroking his length backwards as your walls fluttered around him. Your face was no longer scrunched in pain, your eyebrows unfurrowed and your mouth hung open, feeling nothing but pleasure as his left hand shot to your pulsing pussy, thumbing your clit with the lightest of touches.

“Captain,” you stuttered, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Feels good.”

“Yeah,” he pushed his forehead to yours, his own eyes closing as he pushed his cock back into your depths, so slowly.

You placed a gentle kiss to his lips for a brief moment, neck craning off the pillow under your head. You felt a cramp as he kissed you back, so gently and so softly. You moved your mouth to his jaw, peppering kisses along any exposed skin you reach.

His right hand stayed positioned to your face, his grey colored orbs opened, focusing on your face. You looked up then, and felt your heart hammering in your chest. Levi was so handsome, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes softened without the weight of reality crashing down on him.

“I’m glad it’s you,” your arms were still wrapped around his neck as you rubbed soft circles along the ridge of his undercut. His hips held such a passionate, steady rhythm as he continued plunging into you.

Levi didn’t respond, his hand angling your face to his again. Although unspoken, you could see in his face that he appreciated your words, his thrusts faster in pace now. You couldn’t stop the moans from exiting your throat, volume increasing as his thumb worked you with more pressure. He swallowed your noises with his lips, not even kissing, the two of you just breathing into one another’s mouth.

Suddenly the distance wasn’t close enough, Levi’s hand left the curve of your cheek to wrap his arm around the middle of your back, forcing your body completely against his sweating one. His lips began to work against yours, sloppy and messy as you kissed the man back with the same fever.

Levi’s pace was solid, deep and without error. Your hips tried desperately to meet his thrusts, his wrist in between your centers blocking you from doing so. Your captain didn’t even so much as warn you to stop, his thumb rolling faster against your now swollen clit, that same heat in your stomach rebuilding rapidly. The two of you were so lost in each other, your arms leaving his neck to wrap around his shoulders and forcing his head down to your neck where he lapped and peppered kisses to conceal his own moans. You did the same, lips attached to the curve where his muscular shoulder met his neck.

His touch was unrelenting, but you felt the unmistakable shutter as he plunged right to your cervix, goosebumps rising on his skin under your fingertips. You let out a muffled moan, your nails clawing at his back, your legs somehow tighter around his backside.

Levi’s thumb rubbed harder, so much faster now than his thrusts. Your pussy was fluttering rapidly now, clenching and unclenching around his girth, you were so close. You had a feeling your captain was as well, his pace increasing even faster.

“I’m cumming,” you pulled away from his shoulder to warn Levi, sucking the sensitive area of his neck.

Levi moaned in pleasure, bucking his hips hard into you, and this was what sent you over the edge. Levi couldn’t move even if he wanted to as your cunt gripped him so tightly, contracting so hard around his length. You could hear a string of curses and ‘ah’s from his lips as your hips bucked wildly into his hand, rubbing your clit along his stilled thumb. You’d had plenty of self given orgasms before, but feeling completely filled as your walls fluttered around something was a pleasure you knew you’d be seeking again.

Your teeth were sunk into his neck, and Levi was finally able to continue his strokes as your orgasm slowed, your body limping. His thumb started once more, and you were whimpering at the overstimulation, your contractions not even done. He was pounding into you now, growling into your neck, you could feel the sharp clench of his jaw dig into your shoulder. It didn’t take you more than a minute to build up another orgasm, and as the new waves of pleasure slammed into you, Levi was pulling out.

You came around nothing as Levi rutted into your stomach, feeling the smear of hot cum rub against your middles. He was bucking desperately, moaning and whimpering. The sounds he made paired with the nonstop movement of his thumb only heightened your pleasure, your left hand coming to caress the back of his head.

He removed his touch from you, taking his dripping hand to your waist as his thrusts against your stomach slowed. It crawled under your back to meet his other arm, and he placed sensual, slow kisses to your neck. You did the same, thanking him non verbally. His head lifted, eyes half lidded as he placed his lips to yours, locking them in a saccharine embrace. He pulled away after a few moments, sliding off of your sticky body and out of the bed. Your arms fell to your sides, and he slipped his pants on, avoiding the area of his lower stomach where his cum was drying quickly. He rushed to his dresser, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping himself down quickly, returning back to your body to clean your middle as well.

“You’ll probably need to shower,” Levi broke the silence as he pulled the rag away, his empty hand roaming the curve of your side.

“Probably,” you mumbled in bliss, enjoying his light touch. “I’ll get up in just a minute.”

“You could stay,” Levi offered awkwardly, halting his movements.

“It’s okay, I think I want to be alone,” you smiled, your brain foggy. “Also don’t need rumors to start up if anyone sees me leaving your room in the morning.”

Levi only hummed as you pulled your naked body to a full stand, reaching for your discarded clothes. You pulled your long sleeve over your head first, the edges brushing against the tops of your thighs, stepping into your panties and shorts quickly. The silence was almost overwhelming, neither of you sure of what exactly to say.

“Captain Levi,” you finally spoke, ready to depart. “Thank you.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling your body to his with no real force, kissing you passionately. You kissed him back hungrily, and had you been more experienced, you would’ve felt the flicker of sparks deep within your stomach, a signal of unconscious feelings sprouting within you.

You pulled away from him, a smile playing at your lips as he spoke raspily, “You know where to go if you don’t want to be alone.”

You threaded your fingers through his open palm, bringing his knuckles to your lips as you placed a soft peck to the back of his hand, “I will, Captain. Goodnight.”

The heat of the sun beat harshly on your back, your body in a full ache as you dodged a punch from Eren. You went to lift your leg into a kick, a yelp leaving your lips at the feeling that you were going to rip in half, and quickly shifted your hips to plan a new attack. Thankfully, your fake out worked, seeing Eren prepare himself for your leg, not for your first to go flying into his gut.

With a loud groan of pain, Eren laid flat on his back in the dirt. Your chests heaved, sweat dripping down your skin, and you extended your palm to the younger boy. You had won this spar, and Eren huffed as he smacked his hand away playfully.

“I had you last time! I can’t believe I lost again!” he complained, eyebrows furrowed as he screwed his eyes shut in a fit.

You laughed then, crossing your arms over your chest, “You got lucky, Jaeger.”

Around the two of you, all the cadets were still in their own sparring matches. Even in your weary state, you had been the first match finished, and you feel a swell of pride. You were getting stronger, more fit to survive the harsh reality of this world.

“Cadets,” Captain Levi made himself known then, stepping forward from the row of squad leaders, unbeknownst to you and Eren he had been watching with a trained eye the entire fight.

“Captain!” you saluted, Eren lazily following along silently.

Levi’s eyes lingered over you for a minute, before shifting his attention to Eren before scoffing, “Pathetic, Jaeger. You need to work on your form.”

You tried desperately to hide a smirk, eyes lit up in amusement as Eren frowned deeply, sighing, trying not to lash out on your superior. Levi continued, “Cadet, good job.”

“Thank you, Captain,” you smiled brightly, now trying to conceal the oncoming heat of your blush flaming up your neck, licking the tips of your ears.

“However, never let your guard down after you think you’ve won.”

The sound of your skull cracking into the ground beneath you sent your vision in a dizzy frenzy. Levi hovered over you, and you could make out the lingering feeling of his boot hitting your stomach, causing you to lay flat on your back. The sun was high in the sky today, not a single cloud in view or whisk of wind felt.

“Ow,” you heaved, bringing yourself into a seated position, hunched over. “What was that for?”

“You can’t always predict what a titan’s next move is going to be,” Levi cooly explained, crouching down to meet your eye level. “This is how you fucked up, both times, with an abnormal. You have to pay attention. You can’t let yourself get caught up in a victory. Understood, brat?”

You nodded, feeling your ears grow hot as multiple sets of eyes watched on in curiosity, “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll see you in my office after dinner for your punishment,” his eyes twinkled, a hint of a smirk on the corner of his lips. “Cockiness is not befitting for a brat like you.”

You groaned, biting your tongue to hold back words you knew would come across as disrespectful. You didn’t see what you did to deserve a punishment, but you huffed as Levi strolled away, yelling at Eren about something. Probably about his smirk when he watched you fall on your ass.

Turns out your punishment was anything but, instead a much rougher fucking left your body nearly in shambles. This became a routine, instead of traveling outside to stare at the stars and lose yourself in your thoughts, Levi’s body became your comfort, your relief. He felt the same, pouring his loneliness into your willing body as he claimed you night after night, week after week.

He’d tell you sometimes in the afterglow of your orgasms that this was strengthening the squad, this was for the betterment of the scouts. Because what better way was there to build trust? You’d listen half heartedly, knowing this was all an excuse to rationalize why you continued seeking each other’s comfort.

Levi was soon fiercely protective of you, and you unconsciously him. This was reinforced after the 57th expedition failed horribly, the faces of your deceased squad members haunting your dreams every night. Levi would hold you as you sobbed through the nightmares. It hurt, so fucking much. Levi would whisper to you that you just had to keep moving forward. You would nod your head and listen. Your captain knew best, and you were finding it harder every passing day to pretend that he didn’t.

You didn’t try to make sense of your relationship, just letting it exist. Some days you’d push him away, others you’d pull the ravenette closer to your body. Caught between wanting to leave the man you’d realized you’d fallen in love with, or go into hiding away from the military with Levi and marry the son of a bitch. You liked to think he felt the same, his words few, but his acts spoke volumes of his feelings.

And when you laid limp on the battlefield, titan corpses steaming around you, your breaths shallow as your tired body began to prepare to shut down, you smiled. Everything all at once came flooding to you as you stared up at the sky, completely alone.

You blinked at the clouds, painted so pretty in pinks and oranges at the setting sun. You could hear your name being screamed somewhere in the distance, the voice vaguely familiar. You felt relief wash over you as the large open wound on your stomach gushed an unbelievable amount of blood. Full of shock, your adrenaline keeping your pain at bay, you thought humorously that you had no idea you had that much blood running through your body.

Raven hair and charcoal eyes entered your hazy vision, and you kept that smile on your face. Your fingers reached up, reaching Levi’s soaking cheek, not being able to tell if it was because of blood, or tears. You smoothed your thumb under his eye, and you were being lifted. You couldn’t hear his words, only the dullness of sound as the world continued to slow around you.

You stared at the clouds, completely at peace. You had conquered your biggest fear, growing close to another, just to lose them. Images of Levi flashes before your eyes, his stoic expression, his commanding leadership, his sensual caresses, his passionate kisses as he poured all of his feelings out for you. You loved him, you realized. You were so happy that you got to experience this in this lifetime.

The colors of the sky blurred together, and you could feel the wind whisk around you as Levi shot off on his odm gear. You were finally flying in the clouds.

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

[yallemagne]

#surprised that no one in the tags asked where castlevania's dracula fits in this lol #on one hand he loves his wives very much but on the other he's 99% of the time portrayed as satan incarnate so yeah #anyway i get the point of the post #the dracula book and its titular character have been extremely watered down after a century worth of adaptations #and after it became cool to paint vampires as tragic sex gods #so it's a surprise for new readers when they discover that og dracula is a slimy bastard monster and worst of all a scarily realistic abuse (beevean)

Now, I'm legally required to talk about Castlevania's depiction of Dracula because.

So, today, class, we're going to talk about the Castlevania game series and... We're talking about the games.

To give a summary of Dracula's whole deal, he was a noble and military tactician in 11th century France named Mathias Cronqvist who dabbled in some alchemy and fought in the Crusades. Then his wife died, and he decided to conscript a vampire to kidnap his best friend's wife so he'd feel bad too and join him in his goal to kill God. Didn't work because normal people don't become vampires and declare war against God just because their wives die, so he moved across the continent and changed his name to Vlad Dracula Tepes because I'm sure that name isn't already taken. Then he met a woman centuries later who looked kinda like his dead wife and married her and had a kid but then she died and he decided to exterminate humanity, only to have his ass beat by his son's gf who is also the great great great (???) granddaughter of that bff he screwed over in the past.

In general, he's a shitty guy. Just... constantly. Slaughtering whole families and enslaving the one surviving family member, kidnapping children and forcing them to fight their fathers to the death, lots of curses, lots of possessions, lots of general mean guy fuckery. But like he's fun because he's kinda hot and overly dramatic. He smashes wine glasses and screams WHAT IS A MAN???

Sure, he had two wives die and that kinda sucked, but it's been so long that it doesn't matter to him anymore, and his desire for vengeance has led to him getting his ass beat by his son several times, and I think that maybe if you get your ass beat by your son that many times, you should go to therapy instead of continuing your genocidal mission.

But anyway, he was perma-killed in 1999 by a Romanian cowboy and got reincarnated as a sweet Japanese teen who decided to do just that. Good for you baby boy, get your therapy.

(Funny side note, in the middle of all this? Dracula the novel is technically canon to the games... uh... Quincey Morris is canon and he has a son named John who has a son named Jonathan who gets to kill Dracula, too.)

CW: Netflixvania slander.

And then the Netflix Castlevania series. It is the Coppola of Castlevania. Dracula is a sobby little dweeb that none of the other vampire lords have an ounce of respect for and the writers love to justify his destruction with "oh nuuu his poor doctor wife :((( don't you want him to succeed in killing all the humans??" Never mind the fact that his wife asked him not to. But who cares what women think? Just look at how sad he is while he beats his son to death. He's such a poor widdle baby man, don't you see?

Netflixvania does to Castlevania Dracula what many Dracula adaptations do to Book Dracula. They make Dracula a weepy protagonist whilst not giving him any sympathetic traits. They also keep all of his unforgivable crimes and just reframe them as being totally okay. AND HE GETS A HAPPY ENDING!! He and his wife are given a Get Out Of Hell Free Card and Lisa's totally cool with the fact he committed genocide and abused their son. Cool cool cool. Same energy as Coppola Mina making out with Dracula's ugly corpse even after he tortured her husband and murdered her girlfriend. Yeah okay, sweaty. Oh, you are his reincarnated wife who died centuries ago? You're soulmates? Cute. Get a better soul.

See, you can have media that strays from the original book and it still keeps the spirit of Dracula and sometimes even overshadows the original with how iconic it is. And then Netflix will come in and shit all over it.

Today’s entry is one of many that really drives home why I can never quite bring myself to get into softer ‘uwu he’s just misunderstood and sexy-liberating’ versions of Dracula. Just. I can’t. I really really can’t.

Up to this point, he’s already had a monstrous moment in bringing the ladies their first on-screen kids meal crying and squirming in its sack. He’s had outright predatory back-to-back moments in imprisoning, coercing, robbing, and getting increasingly threatening and handsy with Jonathan. This, capped with the fact that he plans to kill/drink/gift him to the Undead Girl Gang by the end of June.

‘But what about his, “I too can love,” huh? He’s just loving as best a monster can! He could be tearing everyone around him to ribbons for annoying him, Brides and Jonathan included! Instead he goes out of his way to feed the ladies, albeit gruesomely, and has no retort when they laugh at and insult the lonely old bat. And he isn’t planning to kill Jonathan. He wants to keep him! Sure, it’s a sick version of it, but to him conscripting and collecting Jonathan rather than executing him outright is the height of affection! Surely that’s grounds for some of the more ~romantic~ takes in warped gothic flavor?’

To an extent, yeah. 

But he also just dressed up in Jonathan’s stolen clothes to cover up for the man’s own abduction, imprisonment, and undeadifying, while also increasing the odds of Jonathan already getting mistaken for a vampire, bringing home another child for the ladies to devour, and then ordered a pack of wolves to eat a grieving mother alive for making noise at his gate.

And this? This is just the tip of the iceberg for how downright hellish he gets as the novel progresses. 

Dracula can absolutely be a nuanced character within canon, offshoots, retellings, re-imaginings, and so on. And he should be! He’s a very interesting bastard who’s got so much more going on than a few one-liners and a taste for good cloaks and yummy company. But his actual actions in the book–even the smallest ones–just automatically torpedo 90% of my audience enjoyment when I run into yet another ‘Oh, but he did it all because he was in love!/misunderstood!/depressed!/unfairly maligned by the eeevil human Victorian characters in their journals and newsprint and body count records!’ version of the Count. 

Even sillier takes that try to heroify him for kids like Hotel Transylvania just kind of make my brain trip and fall into a pit of ??? 

‘Look kids, Dracula is really a nice guy and a sweet dad who runs a fun little hotel for his misunderstood Universal Horror monster buddies! Isn’t he neat?’

It leaves me biting my tongue and holding this mental grimace as I think about the sacks full of weeping children, the slaughtered mother, a young man imprisoned for making the mistake of endearing himself so much to a sadistic monster that the latter has decided to keep him as a tortured toy and undead pseudo-slave for eternity, with an entire blood buffet of human cattle still waiting to fill out the rest of the novel with trauma, horror, and death. 

‘Ohhh, but look at Francis’ tragique sweetheart version who stole all his redeeming qualities from Jonathan Harker! Ohhh, but look at the funny silly Adam Sandler cartoon and his new everyman-settling daughter! Ohhh, but look at how #cool and modern-sexyedgy an antihero/villain he is when penned by every projecting director and their grandmother! Lighten up, it’s just a different interpretation!*’

*Of the character whose whole deal is psychological torture, being a predatory creep, casual murder, and worse-than-murder of innocents.

I know it skews me towards being a whiny purist. I know. Let folks have fun. I know. But still, it feels so wrong every time I see someone try to ‘awww, he’s not so bad!’-ify him in new media when. No. He is exactly that bad and probably worse. If he’s not, then that’s not fucking Dracula.

tl;dr: Can people just make some new fun/sexy/antihero vampires instead of stapling Dracula’s name on all of them? Can Dracula just be an interesting villainous monster again?? Please??? (Please save me Renfield 2023 and The Last Voyage of the Demeter, you’re my only ho–)

[after-witch]

In Sickness [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Title: In Sickness [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Synopsis: You were not often alone with the demon lord who took you captive. Then again, you were not often touched by the demon lord who took you captive, either.

Word Count: 2029

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of illness

You were not often alone with the demon lord who took you captive.

Then again, you were not often touched by the demon lord who took you captive. Yet here he was, bent over you, hands wringing out a rag he’d just dipped in a pail of river water. You barely register his fingers glancing against your skin, the slight sharpness of his nail edges, as he lays the damp rag on your forehead.

You can’t help it. At the touch of the damp rag, you sigh, soft and pleased. The coolness is blissful, a brief respite from the fever that has been wearing you down for days.

“You are a nuisance,” he mumbles, grimacing at droplets of river water that dribbled their way onto the elevated mat he’d set you on. To keep you away from the cold ground, you supposed, but you hadn’t the ability to care about his unusual generosity.

Once it had become clear that your illness was no minor trifle, he’d sent Rin away with Jaken as unwilling, grumpy but admittedly loyal protector. Where they were, you didn’t know and truthfully, you didn’t have the strength to care. It was hard enough to muster up the energy to care about your own self, drenched with sweat yet wracked with bouts of shivers that alternated with fevers that made your dreams terribly real.

It had started small. A tickle in your throat, a bit of weariness. You were tired, more so than usual, more so than you expected. But it wasn’t until the fever came and refused to leave, until your legs became red and swollen and could no longer carry you, until you started to become delirious, that Sesshoumaru had taken direct action. Jaken and Rin were gone, and you were taken somewhere. A cave? It was a shelter, at least, something more permanent than the campfires and group sleeps you were used to in recent months.

And Sesshoumaru had tended to you, quietly, without much in the way of conversation. You slept most of the time, half-awakening to hear him grinding medicine and waiting until it was placed on your swollen legs, or in your mouth mixed with hot water, to fall back into a listless sleep. You wonder how long you will be able to recall the feeling of his hands on you, the unusual way he sometimes bent over you and stared, checking your breathing, feeling your forehead.

It was intimate and uncomfortable, but you couldn’t be bothered to fight it.

You were just so sick. You were just so tired.

Yet you weren’t exactly a stranger to fatigue, to stress, particularly since the day you’d been forced to go with the demon. Stress dragged you down, often making you wish you could sleep for days, a luxury that was not afforded due to the frequently traveling nature of your captor. 

That day that came back to you so often in your dreams, and was now a memory that ebbed and flowed with your fevers.

Did you talk about that day, in your feverish ramblings? Sesshoumaru acknowledged what you said sometimes only with passive noises, either uncaring or not wanting to encourage your incoherent words, intent on making you better and resuming the original course.

You really were a nuisance. So why did he keep you? You’d never asked him this out of fear. You’d certainly never questioned his decision to keep you alive, much less questioned why he wanted you in the first place. Why he agreed to the wild offering thrown before him.

Your village elders had begged the passing demon lord Sesshoumaru to lay waste to a band of lesser demons that plagued the village for years. Men, women, children, even animals--taken and slaughtered in unspeakable ways. Sometimes even killed in their homes, partially eaten. It was not unusual to wake in the morning to piercing cries from mothers finding their children mangled in their beds, or hear husbands wail in agony at the loss of much-beloved wives on the way home from fetching water.

You remember the day so clearly. Like the rest of the people in the village, you were watching from your home, peering out the door like a child, as the elders got down on their knees and begged for assistance from a demon who’d passed along the outskirts of the village.

You remember the shock of his long white hair, his luxurious clothing, his imposing presence that seemed strong enough to make you shake even from behind the safety of the doorway.

He didn’t even bother saying no. He’d simply glared at them as if they were dirt and began to walk away. Then one of the elders pivoted on his knees, spitting out words that would turn out to seal your fate: “We will give you one of our women as an offering! Please, o great lord!”

Still, he did not stop, and the elder let out a shaky cry. Then the elder stood on wobbling knees and looked wildly around the village until his eyes landed on your half-open door, your face barely peeking out of it. He was a man who’d witnessed your birth, a man who’d once given you a special treat for free when you tripped and skin your knee as a child, a man who had serious conversations with you in recent weeks about finding a husband as surely someone so dutiful and kind did not wish to remain with her parents forever.

He was also a man who’d run to your home, quick as you’d ever seen him, and yanked you out of the doorway until you fumbled and fell over on the ground. His hands were sweaty with fear yet they clamped around your wrist like a weight.

“This one will make an excellent servant! She can cook and clean and embroider! Or you may have her--or, or kill her! Whatever you wish! Please, please,” he’d begged again, bowing low while keeping an iron grip on your wrist.

You remember the sound of wind in your ears. You remember the feeling of pain in your knees, in your elbow, where you’d fallen hard. You remember the soft scratch of the door opening, the way your neck twisted around to see your parents and brother hiding behind one another, simply watching you. You remember the look on their faces, confused and scared yet saying nothing. Why didn’t they pull you back in?

And then you remember the sound of footsteps approaching. It was the demon. You looked up and he loomed over you, staring impassively at your form. He didn’t bother glancing at the elder, who was now trembling as much as you.

“Very well,” he said quietly, yet with a tone that was unmistakably firm. “She is mine. In exchange, I will kill some vermin for you.”

A sound rushed through the villagers from behind their doors. Sometimes when the wind blows just right, you’re reminded of it. It was a murmur, a gasp, a collective sound that was relief and sadness all at once. They would be saved from the demons at the expense of one of their own. A sacrifice.

You remember pulling on your arm, crying out something. Did you cry for your mother or your father? You can’t remember now. It didn’t matter. They had already shut the door, and the sound of your sister crying from behind it was the only noise that came through.

Someone tied a rope around your wrists. You kicked, and the rope was jerked until you were standing on numb legs. You had no choice but to walk, to be dragged, as the demon held onto the other end and simply left the village without another word. You cried, you begged, you feverishly cried out to the people watching from behind the doors, to the elders who clutched their hands but watched you leave all the same.

He took you. But he didn’t kill you, or have you, or even make you a tireless servant to his demonic whims. He simply expected you to pull your weight, or at least, that’s what the green imp--Jaken, you’d learned--told you was the expectation. So you helped to cook, you helped to mend clothes, you minded Rin. Nothing more or less than the others were expected to do.

You were kept bound when not doing your chores for a few weeks. When he’d taken the rope off, you’d waited for the moment and run--not that you got far or got anything than a few more weeks with the rope for your troubles.

You hadn’t tried to run for a while. It did no good. And the areas you’d traveled through were sometimes riddled with demons or wild animals that would surely kill someone such as yourself with little effort, should you try to make it on your own.

With Sesshoumaru, you were fed. You got enough rest. You were protected. Not that you didn’t wish every day to return home, to sit with your family for meals, to chase your sister around and tease her to get her to laugh when she felt blue. Not that you didn’t hate being sometimes treated like a pest, like a dog, when it wasn’t your choice to be here in the first place. But at least you were still alive, still able to hope you would see your family again some day.

A sigh from lips that weren’t your own draws you out of your memories, sweeping away the memory of that day and every day of captivity since like dirt being beaten out o f fabric.

You open your eyes, grateful for the soft light in the cave, and see Sesshoumaru sitting across from you, his back up against the stone wall. Your head feels clearer, less foggy, less hot, thanks to the rag and you decide to sit up a bit. Laying down all the time makes you feel dizzy. He watches with no change in expression as you wiggle yourself into a higher position, wiggling yourself back on the mat until you’re resting against the wonderfully cool stone.

You stare at each other for a few moments. The sound of the fire he’d set up further in the cave is low, crackling. You try to imagine him gathering wood, crouching low to do the mundane work that you and Rin and Jaken often did, and it seems ridiculous.

You try to imagine these things in order to avoid asking a question that has been on your mind since the moment the ropes had chafed your wrists, the moment you’d been forced to stumble after him.

But you can’t avoid it forever, and finally, you speak.

“Why did you take me?”

You would never dare to ask this question if the others were here, if Sesshoumaru hadn’t been tending to you, intimate and up close, for days. But the fever and the strangeness of the situation has made you feel clearheaded in a bold, perhaps too much so, way.

He simply stares at you for a few moments, and you think that he will choose to ignore you until his gaze shifts almost imperceptibly to the side.

“You were offered to me.”

It is your turn to offer a passive noise. The answer he gives is is nothing. At least nothing that makes sense to you, makes sense of your situation.

“Why didn’t you kill me, then?” Surely there was a reason, since he didn’t make you a hapless servant, either. “I was supposed to be a sacrifice.” Or you were meant to be. Instead he’s made you something altogether in-between. You weren’t worked to the bone or treated terribly, but you couldn’t leave. You weren’t killed, but you weren’t any more useful than his willing companions, either.

You don’t get the answer you wanted. Or any answer at all. Instead, he merely scoffs, and stands up to leave the cave. He pauses at the entrance, waiting until you turn towards him to speak.

“I will not take long.” He gestures towards the mat with one hand. “Go to sleep. And refrain from asking such stupid questions when you wake up.”

[beevean]

Do you think part of the reason for Hector's treatment in NFCV was because the writers did understand Hector was a parallel to Dracula, but N!Dracula is "uwu sympathetic <3 husband ignoring my last wishes and beliefs!" so of course Hector can't have same storyline as the games?

You're giving too much credit to Warren Ellis lmao. dude wanted to name Godbrand "Mathias Cronqvist" become somehow he missed that it was Dracula's human name, and you think he understood, or even cared about, Hector's narrative significance?

I can believe that the original plan for him was to slowly become the Hector we see in CoD, in the same way Alucard was meant to be perceived as younger than his SoTN self. That makes sense, in theory. While the real Hector would never consider culling as a good compromise, N!Hector displays some morals and doubts as early as episode 2: "All I'm saying is that our goals can be met without gleefully paddling in the blood of children." You can already see the contrast between him and N!Isaac, who is 100% loyal and ready to throw hands at anyone who dares to question Dracula: "No, no, no! Dracula will decide, not you. Threaten me all you like, I will die for him, if I don't kill you first. You do not question my loyalty." So this checks.

(also this is the mother of nitpicks but i hate how N!Isaac just calls Dracula by name. It's "Lord Dracula", asshole, at least be consistent with your bootlicking.)

Carmilla's inclusion threw everything off. She turned a perfectly good story of Hector slowly coming to terms with his own humanity and choosing to flee rather than become a weapon of mad slaughter, into a shitty GoT ripoff where she basically played politics and manipulations by taking advantage of the Lord's weakness to further her own agenda. And she used Hector's doubts to turn him on her side, stripping him of his agency. And then she humiliated him because look at the stronk kween as she beats the absolute shit of this weak, helpless, defenseless man. And after that, Hector derailed too much to even approach his original storyline: Ellis was too busy jerking off to his mommy fetish to care about an actual character arc, and the Deats allowed it because uhhhhh kojima already brought the horny we're just continuing her work :V

(Dracula doesn't look good either, btw, as he simply let Carmilla go after she humiliated him in front of the court and did what she wanted out of apathy because muh depression. Same for Isaac, who understood that making Carmilla happy would not be beneficial to them but went along with it because "she will stop causing mischief". No wonder Carmilla thinks all men are idiots :V oh but Hector, the only one who actually cared about unifying the squabbling generals, is the one called "a simple creature". fuck you.)

Speaking of which, it doesn't help that, as early as S2, Hector was seen in-universe as the weak link of the court. Dracula and Isaac have zero respect for him and constantly question his intelligence, a complete 180° from canon where Hector was Dracula's special babyboy favorite and Isaac was torn between respect and resentment. My questions about what the hell is he even doing there aside, I honestly don't know what was the point of that: I can see a parallel with Lenore later on, who also seems to not be very respected by her besties despite her alleged cunning, but since I doubt Lenore was in the plans, I can only see that as Ellis deciding to weaken Hector's character for... shit and giggles?

That being said. It sure is interesting how Dracula was treated as a poor grieving husband who totally deserved his happy ending with his happy wife, Isaac was given a whole speech about How Much He Has Changed and how super cool and badass and awesome he has become, while Hector, after being literally dehumanized and raped, only "evolved" by... deciding he had to bring Dracula back. And he was stopped by the ever so wise Isaac. Oh but who gives a shit about Curse of Darkness and its lore, it's just an aggressively mid PS2 game, totally irrelevant, we can mangle it as much as we want who cares about the stupid games they're old anyway hahahahahhahahaa