#tagging in case anyone has more info <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mariamegale · 4 days ago

Text

More clarification on Dybowski's position within Ice Pick Lodge today from IPL ex-employee Luchin, after yesterday's comments.

Sorry for posting so much in the patho tag, but unfortunately it's what's best for visibility. I have, and will be, using the "Dybowski Allegations" tag for any post on this, so please block that tag if you don't want to see it.

Since my post yesterday on Alexey Luchin's comments/allegations against Dybowski, he has given Reddit some updates and clarifications. I'll summarise the Reddit thread, but quote Luchin in full for transparency.

The thread is on the topic of Dybowski's current involvement with IPL/Pathologic 3. Commenters stated that he has sold the company, and hasn't been very involved with the games since The Void (2008). Whether this is a valid interpretation of Luchin's earlier statements was discussed, and the fact that he's been a main P2 writer and involved with a lot of promo stuff over the years was brought up. Luchin, after being pinged, showed up to clarify:

Russian companies often use a "fake owner" for various reasons, this is the case here. Motivations may be to avoid alimony, to ease money transfers between the main company part in Kazakhstan and the original main company and it's Cyprus subordinary. It is not illegal, and even not a loophole, though. I wouldn't dwell on that much. It's important what people work in the studio factually.

and,

Yep, I'd say it's up to the currently employed to shed light reliably. But in general around after the Void he was more of an broad ideas guy — and a good one, it wasn't my intent to downplay him in that regard. At the same time, game development is a multistage process, and from my personal knowledge, I can attribute a lot of the new games qualities to "fresh blood", and the other co-founders acting more professional. E.g. Alphyna has covered a decent chunk of actual writing on Pathologic 2 and had a pivotal role in maintaining the timeline of events of the game, charater motivations, etc together. Ivan Slovtsov carried the detailed game design and balancing with his team — which gave him a good position in tinyBuild after, etc. IPL is to some extent an autere game company, with the source and numerous modifications coming from Nikolay, but in my time his input was irregural, disrupting, and in my personal opinion wasn't often for the good of the game. At the same time, the fresh blood in the studio grew on the principles on which the studio was founded and successfully carries its legacy already. This is an opinion, though, still. Personally, I'll still play Pathologic 3, it's great, from what I know / have seen. And all my posts here are done with a heavy heart — it's not easy to be dissapointed in a talanted figure such as Dybowsky myself.

So, based on this (keep in mind Luchin himself has stated to have no contact with Dybowski himself since 2018, although it feels fair to assume he'd still be in contact with other former coworkers) the exact role of Dybowski in the creation of these games seems a little unclear. But I also don't think anyone's been debating whether he's been involved up until p3, as much as how deeply involved he is in p3.

Ultimately, it's up to everyone to decide for themselves where they stand in terms of opinion on p3, buying the game, sticking around in the fandom, supporting the studio, et cetera., but that's the new info.

To just give my own personal two cents: I am still in the position I was yesterday, which is that I believe IPL has to make a statement on all of this, and cut ties with Dybowski, before I'll be completely comfortable giving them money. However, I do also want to acknowledge the fact that this is not a black and white situation, and that the discourse surrounding this does warrant some level of nuance. I'm, of course, speaking in relation to the other people working at IPL.

It's incredibly easy to say both, "Dybowski is not his team; they should never be punished for his actions," and "they may have helped cover for him for twenty years; they should be held responsible." Silence is, to a degree, complicity, and if Luchin is to be believed not just in his "open secret" statement but also here, in reference to the student grooming allegations:

That's the Nema-Soda episode around the same time previous accusations surfaced. Well known in the Russian segment of the internet.

That's bad. If this truly has been this out in the open and known, that's really fucking bad, and I want this company - at least its management - to be held responsible for their potential silence and complicity in this.

But, at risk of sounding like I'm excusing any of this, I do also want to remind you that according to Luchin, as well as earlier testimonies including Renata's, this is also a person who is apparently incredibly vindictive. He is also pretty rich by Russian standards, and has held some level of influence in academia and the Russian game dev community for many years. I don't know exactly how his vindictiveness would take its form, especially not against employees, but I've been in toxic workplaces before - it can be scary, downright terrifying, to go after or even up against someone like this. No matter how shitty they are, especially if you're not in a country with good whistleblower laws (and just, in general, a system which will take the original allegations seriously, which... I'm not Russian, but I'm allowing myself some possibly problematic doubt that you'd be able to comfortably know that. I come from a significantly more progressive country, and I would absolutely not take it for certain) it can be incredibly difficult to stand up for what's right and take that risk to your livelihood, safety, and future job prospects. Especially in a job market so (relatively) niche as Russian game development. I'm also pretty damn sure there's not a union, or anything like it, to back you up if you get inofficially retaliated against.

Human being end up in abusive situations and find themselves, for one reason or another, not doing anything about it all the time. SA victims don't always report their perpetrator. Fraud victims don't always come forward. People subjected to wage theft don't always call their union reps. And others, those who witness it, don't always do it either. Sometimes because it's not their place, sometimes because they don't care, and sometimes because they're afraid. I don't think it's fair to assume everyone is in the second category, just as how I wouldn't think it's fair to assume everyone is in any of the others - it'd be absurd to assume every IPL worker doesn't want to out someone else's victimhood, which is why they haven't said anything publicly, for example. However, not reporting is an incredibly common blame to put on a victim or witness, because it's assumed that by not reporting it, they're essentially enabling the perpetrator to do it again. And I personally just don't think that's just - not without knowing what else weighed into a person's decision not to speak up.

I'm not saying this absolves all of IPL. I especially don't think it absolves the people at the top with Dybowski, who would have been more protected than the bottom-line workers. I simply am asking for some honest-to-god nuance. Personally, I'm still not happy to give IPL any money - not until I know Dybowski is not getting any of it, and measures have been taken to protect their other employees. But I'm also not interested in broad brushing an entire company of twenty years as evil, because the employees haven't made (english) publically available attempts at getting this guy out. We know, by his own accord, Luchin didn't - we know nothing of the others. A conversation with a manager that went badly is not likely to become public knowledge. People lamenting their powerlessness to stop someone to their colleagues or friends won't reach us. Someone quietly resigning because they can't do this anymore, but not being willing to put themselves on the line, is not a detail we're going to have.

I'm happy the silence has, hopefully irrevocably and undeniably, been broken. I'm hoping some people, Dybowski in particular, will face justice, or at least consequences. I hope Renata and her son, as well as Dybowski's other children, are safe and happy. I hope that IPL will do something, and move forward as a better company.

I want them to make a statement about this. That's non-negiotiable, for me, personally. I also want to see a change, and a better company with a better work culture going forward, making games and nurturing a community safely away from all this shit.

However, I accept the grim possibility that this will never happen, and am trying to decide on what that means for me personally moving forward with the fandom. I don't have any moral qualms about piracy, that's not what this is about. And that's the wider conversation I think I personally will need more, moving forward, in regards to my relationship with Pathologic.

That's my two cents.

#pathologic #dybowski allegations #nikolay dybowski #cw: SA #ice pick lodge #pathologic 2 #pathologic 3

58 notes · View notes

emepe · 3 months ago

Text

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The first 48 hours are crucial when a person goes missing. Eren can only pray it’s enough to reach you..

— Content warnings: emetophobia, mention of assault.

— Notes: Helloooo!!! Welcome to TV Friday number 12 <3 I thought about posting earlier but I thought best to keep up our little tradition ^^ Please read the notes at the end for extra notes about TV’s future. Don’t be shy to stop by my ask box <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

Forty-eight hours

Hour One

A missed call shouldn't have been enough to raise an alarm, but his gut instantly told him something was wrong. And yet he tried his best to remain calm — stepped out onto the street and made his way to the bus stop where you should've been dropped off, glancing into convenience stores just in case, hopeful that the bus was just running a little late. But when the bus you would've taken showed up — allowing Eren some time to sigh in relief and shake his head at his own presumptions — and you were nowhere to be found among the few people to scatter onto the sidewalk, it only confirmed that previous gut feeling.

Hour Two

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

There's a stiffness to Eren's breathing that makes the process more painful than its intended effects — his lungs feel too big for his ribs, which seem to be pressing them against his heart, pushing his brain into hyperactivity to keep him from imploding.

Where does he even start? Where should he even go?

If there's a proper protocol to follow to find you, he's no idea of it and he's strangely aware that his anxiety might lead him in the wrong direction when there's so much he has to do — so many places he has to be — at once. It's infuriatingly difficult to not have a cool head when you really need it.

He didn't think to bring his car — perhaps it's for the best, considering his vision continues to blur and it's not a sign of good condition to hear your own frantic heartbeat pounding in your ears.

His eyes anxiously scan the faces of every person in his path. Paired with his dazed footing and the sick expression on his face revived every couple of minutes from the nausea stemming from some sort of sensed doom that he continuously swats away, there hasn't been a shortage of odd looks and aversions since he ventured into the dark streets in hopes to find you fine and well out of thin air.

It's been too long to dismiss as a casualty since his calls stopped going through, and yet he insists on redialing your number each time he's met with the automated message that only further fuels his dreadful symptoms, hopeful that your voice will reach his ears again, for that comforting sound to put an end to the infernal crescendo of his insides.

Just as he's about to redial once more, his phone starts buzzing first, and for a split second his body is at peace and his heart soothed in the spare moment that it takes for him to accept the call and bring the phone to his ear.

“Have you heard from her yet?”

The voice on the other end causes his stomach to plummet to his feet for what feels like the tenth time tonight.

It takes a moment for his brain to assimilate that it's not you on the other end and another for him to hate himself for not checking who was calling and stupidly spit a response to an Armin who has no fault in anything, especially for not being you.

Armin, as understanding as ever and assuming the more collected role for Eren's sake, dismisses the frustrated tone in his friend's voice, fully aware it's nothing personal.

“The security guard says she left a little over an hour ago and Mika called me a minute ago and said she hasn't been home. Are you sure she wasn't going to make any stops on the way?”

“No, Armin, she would've told me. She would've come here first or she would've at least texted me.” Eren's voice cracks. “Something is wrong.”

The weakness in Eren's voice is enough to fracture Armin's composure for a fraction of a second.

“Let's go to Levi.”

Hour Three

Being in the police station feels more reassuring than Eren would've imagined. At least this means he's doing something — and something right, at that — and the drive over spared him enough time to ease his nerves, even just a little, as he continued to repeat inwardly to himself that everything is going to be fine.

Time is everything and frankly, he can't help but feel a bit dumb for not thinking about getting some help from Levi in the first place. He'll find out what's going on — if there was an accident, if you got mugged and that's why no calls go through, or even if your bus broke down and that's why he hasn't seen you when he should have by now. Even if it turns out to be a misunderstanding, better to cause a scene than to sit on his hands. Though three hours without any sign to say otherwise can't be a misunderstanding.

Eren hunches over, resting his forehead on the edge of Levi's desk, not minding one bit as it digs a dent into his skin. His knee bounces every couple of minutes as he and Armin wait for Levi to get back to them.

“Eren Jaeger?”

He looks up to find a tall blond man instead of Levi.

“Yes?”

“I'm Captain Erwin Smith. Come this way please.”

Eren stands to follow the man's lead, only sparing a nervous glance to Armin, who replies with a comforting one from his seat, only morphing into a more accurate depiction of his worry once Eren turns his back to him.

“Where's Levi?”

Eren's eyes wander the barren space he's been led into. Nothing but a table and a pair of chairs set opposite of each other.

“He'll be here in a moment. I just want to ask you some more questions about the missing person's report you're filing.”

“Of course.”

Doing his best to hold in his exasperation at the ticking clock in his head, he dutifully replies to every question he's already answered for Levi when he first walked into the station — what made him come to the station, his relation to you, your description, what happened before he lost contact with you, amongst other basic things to paint a picture of the situation.

“Was there ever any trouble in your relationship?” Erwin asks.

Eren's brow furrows.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm asking if there was any indication that your girlfriend,” he makes a vague motion with his hands as he reads your name from the folder in his hands, “might’ve been upset with the relationship. Did you ever argue or have any trouble? Perhaps something in the past few days? Or ever?”

Eren hardens his jaw in an attempt to remain calm. He knew he'd have to spend a while at the station, answering questions more than once — as frustrating as the lengthy process could be, he expected that much.

Erwin's tone has remained neutral for the entirety of the questioning, and it's only natural to want to rule out any immediate suspects, but it doesn't make the implication of the captain's words any less offensive and borderline cruel.

“No,” Eren chokes out, horrified by the mere idea that either of you would walk away without warning. That isn't you.

“So no reason for her to break off contact with you.”

“She didn't break off contact,” Eren spits, growing heavily frustrated at the sudden turn of events. “We were supposed to meet, she was on her way already. I saw her just this morning and she called me first to tell me she was coming home.”

“Maybe she only said that to throw you off?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Just tell me what you might think,” Erwin replies, voice stern. “You say it's only been three hours since you last heard from her but she's a mentally stable, healthy adult. Unless she has any conditions that could put herself or others in danger, chances are she's safe and sound somewhere and this is all a misunderstanding. Was there anything suspicious or weird about her?”

Eren's shake of his head grows more and more frustrated as Erwin does little to conceal his skepticism, which only shapes as a misunderstanding from Eren's increasingly impatient point of view.

“What's suspicious and weird is that she never made it to our date at all and it's been three hours and I haven't gotten a single word from her.”

Eren's expression is one of pleading, yet Erwin's remains neutral and made of marble.

“And it's not like that,” Eren murmurs. “I was going to ask her to live with me tonight. She called me after she left work to tell me she was on her way.” Eren can feel his heartbeat start to pick up as his ribcage begins to close in on his lungs once more as more anxious words continue to spill from his mouth in increasing pace and volume. “She told me she had news and that she loves me. Why would she tell me that if anything was wrong? Why would she say that if she wasn't going to make it to our date?” The crack in his voice comes at the same time as the stinging sensation behind his eyes and the uncomfortable tickle in his nose. “I was making dinner for us. I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to surprise her with all her favorite food and the pictures from the new apartment. I wasn't going to tell her about the pink bathtub because I want it to be a surprise when we move in. She…” He curls against the table, hands gripping his hair in frustration, pulling at the strands to make sure he still feels something because there are just too many sensations overwhelming him as he tries to get through to the man in front of him. “She really wants a pink bathtub.”

Eren doesn't lift his gaze, just remains quiet and unmoving until he catches a flicker of movement in front of him. It's only when he takes the tissue offered by Erwin that he becomes aware of the tears streaming down his face.

Levi nearly had a heart attack when he first caught eye of Eren's and Armin's familiar faces walking into the police station. The frantic green eyes and anxious expressions made it clear something awful had happened and hot flashes of searing dread burned inside his stomach. That is until nobody pronounced his niece's name. After that, the flame of pain withered to ashes of guilt, consuming him from the inside in such a manner that it was hard to face his niece's friends knowing he'd felt relief it wasn't his family who'd been affected tonight.

Levi's known Eren since he was a kid — a bit childish and whiny, but ultimately a decent man with a kind heart. It's been a pleasure watching him grow up and knowing he's remained a good friend to his niece.

Levi's only met you once. It was at Jean and Mikasa's engagement party earlier this year. If Jean and Mikasa were the happiest couple there, you and Eren were a close second. It was easy to know just how much he adored you, and how attached you were to him. Eren was rarely in a dark place, but next to you his smile was blinding.

After finding out Erwin conducted the interrogation to rule out a possible runaway case — and how he did it — he still hadn't ridden himself of enough guilt to apologize for making the situation more stressful, no matter what the rules say.

It's no secret some sudden disappearances hold more danger than others. An abducted child, an older person with dementia, a mentally and emotionally unstable person who's looking to cause harm to others or themselves — they demand a higher sense of urgency than logging the missing person into the system and following up when there's nothing more pressing on the police's plate.

The desperation consuming Eren's features when Levi finally walks into the interrogation room is enough to kick off his own instincts.

It's upon Levi's insistence that patrols are dispatched immediately.

Hour Five

When a loved one's safety is on the line, any efforts from authorities never seem to be enough and yet one remains oddly hopeful that the people with a proper protocol should know how to better handle situations that leave one frantic and lost.

Calls to the nearest hospitals, pings from cellphone towers, two patrols dispatched to the last known location and its surroundings, questions to potential witnesses who have nothing to report or are rather too invested to go back to whatever keeps their attention inside to provide some detailed tips, one patrol leaving because of a nearby break-in and the remaining one left with nothing more to go off of than one grainy clip of CCTV footage that shows your figure walking down the street, and a second clip from a convenience store's outside surveillance camera where you don't show up at all, but the lack of witnesses lead to nothing in between.

Keeping up the search when there's been nothing gained starts proving to be more difficult when obstacles continue to pile on. Aside from the growing boredom of those in police cars from the lack of fresh information to keep them motivated, the heavy clouds that hover over everyone's head threatens for the case to soon be abandoned for the night.

Hour Eight

Levi is hesitant to leave. But with no leads — no CCTV footage, no unknown numbers blinking on Eren's screen, no mother, an estranged father, no sign of a struggle at the last known location, and so much yet so little more — there isn't much he has to do than drive back with the pair of worried men to the station for more questioning in case of foul play, while constantly eyeing his notifications for any incoming messages on an assault victim found in an alley not too far away from where your phone was last still on.

Eren refuses to leave. Despite Levi's efforts to persuade him that going back to the station was necessary, knowing he was so close to where you'd last been was enough for Eren to stand his ground. Getting into Levi's car means going back miles worth of steps. It means straying from what feels so much like the right path already. And as ridiculous and futile as it is with no leads, it means losing his grip on something much more solid.

How easy it would be if a last known location means he can find you just by looking behind a tree or having someone point and say “yes, she's right there”.

So when Levi makes another plea for Eren to come back with him — he doesn't mention what for to not stir any more nerves — and Eren says no while steering himself down the block for what feels like his hundredth recon of the area — just in case you really were behind that tree in the small playground all along, playing a nasty prank on him — Levi chooses to go back to all the nearby twenty-four hour convenience stores one last time before the downpour begins.

Armin gives Levi a grateful nod before lightly jogging to catch up with Eren, who's already turning onto the next street.

“You can go,” Eren calls over his shoulder after catching a glimpse of his friend's blond hair beside him. “I'll keep looking by myself. Besides, it's gonna rain soon. You'll get wet.”

“What about you?” Armin looks down at his friend's bare arms. “You don't even have a jacket.”

Eren looks down at his sides, like he just noticed his lack of a coat. He could've sworn he had one on him when he walked out his apartment. You would've been upset with him otherwise, that small pout forming on your lips while your brows are weighed down with disappointment.

The instant of amusement he feels is quickly consumed by the ache of why he's out on the street with no jacket to begin with.

The food must be cold by now. He'll have to heat it all up once you're back home.

Light raindrops brush against his skin with a small gust of wind.

You're still not behind the tree.

It's nearly half past two in the morning. Any civilians with useful information have been asleep for hours, and any passers-by would've reported anything had they seen it, Armin thinks.

It's chilling to walk down streets so quiet and empty, with the only reminder that this isn't an alternate universe being the sparse cars that drive by. Surely the people inside might find it strange to see the pair walking up and down the streets, turning, looking, flashing their phones to make out shapes in the dark.

The tickle of rain on skin is no longer, but the temperature continues to drop.

Armin takes on one side of the street while Eren tackles the other. He receives a polite nod from the security guard of a small daycare center, who fails to conceal his look of pity. Levi interviewed him around an hour ago, so he has to know what's going on.

Armin averts his gaze, his cheeks burning at the thought of some stranger pitying him and his friend when everything is going to be just fine.

The rain starts up again. Eren isn't around anymore. With one quick scan of the street, Armin spots him rounding the corner to the next street — pace firm but anxious. He's quick to follow.

By the time Armin catches up, the raindrops have grown in size, a reliable sign that this time, it's for real.

“Eren,” Armin calls him carefully.

Eren continues walking, flashing a light behind a dumpster in a narrow alley between a family restaurant and a bookstore.

“Eren,” Armin calls him a bit more firmly to get his attention, but to no avail.

With brows knit more in desperation than concern, Armin quickens his pace and pulls Eren by the shoulder just before he rounds the corner to the next street.

“Eren!”

“What?”

The anger and volume in Eren's voice shrinks Armin in his place for a brief moment.

Embarrassed by his own reaction, Eren exhales an apology. But his face hardens once more when Armin suggests it's time to go home.

Armin steps back, surprised to have caught a swear word from his best friend among the words he spits back in a negative response.

But when Eren turns, ready to resume his search, Armin pulls at him again.

“Eren, stop!” he half-yells, quickly readjusting his volume before speaking again to not cause any disturbances to sleeping strangers.

“You don't want to pick a fight with me Armin, I'm warning you,” Eren's voice grows low, but still reaches Armin with the same anger and menace.

Eren harshly pulls away and continues to storm down the next street, leaving Armin to stumble behind.

The rain is heavy enough now to spot the pavement faster than it takes for each drop to dry.

“We need to go back, we aren't going to find her like this,” Armin calls after him. His hands do little to shield himself from the rain. Thankfully, Armin thought to bring a jacket along but it won't do much for either of them when it's bound to be sopping wet in just a few minutes.

Eren's shirt is already clinging to his skin in large patches down his back, and yet he continues walking with purpose down the street.

Armin's shivering now under his jacket as he looks around to gather his surroundings. This street isn't far from the office. It's poorly lit which, paired with the rain, is best explored in daylight. There's a single street lamp that's meant to illuminate the area at night, but it's been broken for months and either nobody has reported it, or laziness has kept it from being repaired.

“Come on,” Armin insists, lightly jogging now and losing his breath under the cold shower as he tries to keep up with Eren, who still refuses to listen. “We'll come back in the morning! You need to get some rest if you're going to keep looking! I'll come with you, okay? But we need to go!”

Armin suddenly crashes into Eren's chest as the latter abruptly turns around in a sudden fit of pure rage.

“I already told you I'm not fucking leaving!”

Armin stumbles back, teeth chattering, muscles drooping from his wet clothes and vision blurred by the heavy rain.

“You can leave if you want to! That's what the fucking police is doing! Just go already! But I'm staying because I care! I don't give a fuck about the rain, I'm going to find her!”

Eren's words pierce through Armin's chest, and the next moment he's tackling Eren to the ground. It's not so much to stop him from leaving this time, but out of indignation.

Eren falls on his ass with a wet thud, his palms painfully pounding onto the pavement as Armin falls on top of him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in his hands.

“You think I don't care? Why do you think I'm here, you idiot?” Armin yells in Eren's face. Had the pouring rain not been a factor, he would've been red in the face. But had the rain not been there, Eren also would've easily seen the tears streaming down Armin's face, and that would've taken away from his blue glare.

“She's my best friend! I'm just as worried about her as you are! You can't decide you're the only one affected by this! That only makes you a jerk and you're not!”

Eren is tense all over as he holds Armin's surprisingly threatening glare. His chest heaves as a twinge of guilt surges inside of him at his friend's pointed remarks. The stiff breathing makes its return.

“But we have to go,” Armin's voice softens — it cracks and begs.

And Eren breaks down in sobs. His scraped palms come to his face, aggressively digging the heels against his eyes as if to force his tears back in while his shoulders tremble in cold, grief and guilt.

“You don't understand!” he cries, his shirt still crumpled under Armin's grip. “I fucked up, Armin. This is all my fault!”

Unsure of how to react to this abrupt change in attitude, Armin remains frozen save for his teeth, which continue to chatter under the deafening rain.

“I was supposed to pick her up. I'm never late,” Eren hiccups. “But I didn't come today and now I don't know where she is! It was me, Armin! I did this! This is my fault!”

“Eren,” Armin murmurs gently, eyebrows upturned in sympathy as he finally softens his hold on his friend.

“I can't find her and I don't know if she's hurt or scared or if…,” Eren's words drown in another wave of sore sobs, his lips refusing to let the thought of the worst to escape as a spoken word — to think that someone might have caused you harm and that's what's kept you tonight.

“I need her to be okay,” he whimpers finally, lips trembling as his body begins to react to the harsh cold surrounding him. “Where is she, Armin?”

It takes a while for Armin to gather his thoughts and catch up to the workings of Eren's mind from this hellish night.

He often leaves the office with you, stays behind some evenings when he notices you're close to wrapping up your work and can ride the elevator together. Sometimes even accepts Eren's offer for a ride when he's too tired to deal with the overwhelming setting of public transportation — tired enough to not mind third-wheeling for a short while. If the last place your phone was turned on was before you even had a chance to take a bus, surely he could've done something to prevent this mess too. Why didn't he think to stay behind today, too?

“It's not your fault,” Armin finally says, his voice just barely audible amidst the rain and thunder. He blinks up from the ground to his friend. “And we don't know what happened. We'll try the hospitals again later, we'll keep calling her in the meantime. We have Levi helping us, right?”

Eren blinks back at him, slowly gathering that Armin is trying to encourage him through reassurances, and finally nods in response as he does his best to ignore the tight lump in his throat.

“It's like three in the morning, Eren. I'm not asking you to stop. But we can't keep going like this.” He motions vaguely toward the incessant rain from above and the wet clothes sticking to their skin.

Armin stands, relieving Eren from his weight as he pushes back his hair with one hand and offers the other to his friend whose reluctance casts a shadow over his usually bright features.

Eren trains his gaze on the ground, leaving Armin's helping hand hanging for the while longer it takes for him to convince himself that Armin is right and this doesn't mean he's failing you.

Finally, Eren accepts his friend's hand, who hoists him up just as they both spot Levi's car pulling into the street from the farthest corner.

Armin motions for Eren to follow him toward the car, to which he responds with a weak nod. But just a couple of steps in, something crunches and gets caught under his shoe. Naturally, he looks down, forgetting the deluge falling over him at the moment to frown at the foreign object.

Armin glances over his shoulder, sensing his absence, and turns around fully when he realizes Eren is kneeling on the ground, cautiously picking something from the ground that ultimately dangles from his fingers once it's fully suspended in the air.

Armin retraces his steps, kneeling next to his friend to find his face pallid, and green eyes wide with fear as he stares at the broken chain between his fingers, from which hangs an angel cast in silver with a broken wing.

His features contort in horrified realization. It's almost ridiculous to turn to Eren for confirmation of what he already knows and can already begin to imagine. But when he does, the latter is already hunched over in the opposite direction, emptying his stomach onto the wet pavement while the nearing lights from Levi's car come to blind him.

Hour Fifteen

Mikasa, Jean, and Sasha step into the elevator wordlessly, the only sounds on the way to Eren's floor being the inevitable rustles from the plastic bags with food in Mikasa's hands.

Jean offered to take them, but Mikasa insisted she'd hold onto them. Maybe it's because of her cold hands, but it might also be because she needs something to help keep her grounded — literally; she feels as though she might float away otherwise. Because if anyone were to ask her, nothing has felt real since last night after Armin's call.

The elevator’s hum ceases as it comes to a gentle stop and the doors slide open.

The same somber silence continues to hover between the trio as they mechanically walk down the hall to Eren's door. Jean takes out his copy of the key from his jeans pocket and pushes the door wide open, gesturing for the girls to enter first before quietly closing the door behind them.

Spare keys aren't rare between them. It was chain reaction that stemmed from Eren's father's passing. Everyone wanted to make sure he was okay. The rest is history.

“In case of emergency.”

“Can you please water my plants while I'm gone?”

“Can you check something for me?”

“I'm really sick, just let yourself in.”

“Just keep it.”

Jean's copy has rarely been used. In fact, not many of them have made use of Eren's key once he started dating. Not that it's been a dramatic change, but now there's not much need to be wary of barging in on something they'll all laugh about later. And today, after Eren passed out on the street in the rain, it seems crucial to brush the dust off an old habit for their friend's sake.

The trio is careful not to make any excess noise — Eren might still be sleeping —, but the further they venture into the apartment, they realize their efforts are in vain.

They expected Eren to be lying on the sofa where Jean and Armin had so carefully helped him settle down, still fast asleep considering it's only been a few hours since. Although Eren's sudden nausea was a mere reaction to finding the necklace, Armin still spent a couple more hours watching over him as a precaution while he cleaned up the kitchen and dining area, and quietly left for his apartment to make another round of calls before work.

They're met with the view of their friend bustling around his work area in a corner of the living room, his brow furrowed and eyes laser focused as he refills the ink tanks on his printer. Stacks of missing person's posters cover his desk with a handful of faded ones having been scattered and crumpled on the floor as evidence of the ink shortage he's tending to. Your face occupies nearly the entirety of his immediate view, which is why a single glance is enough to distract him from his task that he doesn't notice his friends present in his apartment, nor when the ink begins to leak.

At the instinctive curse word that leaves him in a frustrated huff, Jean rushes over to help him.

“I'll handle this,” he assures Eren, who only blinks in surprise as he realizes he's not alone.

Mikasa and Sasha walk over to him unsure of whether a hug is appropriate as a greeting. In the end, they choose to speak the words instead.

Sasha leaves the conversation in exchange for helping Jean clean up the spilled ink. An irregular blob-shaped stain is left behind on the ash gray wood.

“Are you– How's your stomach?” Mikasa asks.

An uneasy grimace makes its way onto Eren's face.

“It's fine. It was just… Yeah.” He shrugs it off, unsure of how to properly explain the incident without triggering more discomfort.

Mikasa nods in understanding.

“Armin said you're going back to the police station later.”

Eren huffs at a humorless puff of air from his nose.

“Yeah. More questioning,” Eren replies, his head continuously shaking in disbelief, to which Mikasa frowns.

“What's wrong?”

It takes Eren a couple of tries to let the words out, his mouth opening and closing with hesitancy.

“They all left, Mika,” he softly murmurs, a hint of helplessness infecting his fragile voice, that births an ache in Mikasa's chest. “Nobody could say anything and they got bored. What kind of excuse is that?”

Mikasa drops her gaze to her shoes, submitting before the hurt and impotence Eren's words awake in her.

Then she shakes her head briefly, recalling a good thing.

“Levi's on the case… and there's evidence for foul play now, there's a lead,” she says, trying her hardest to appear more hopeful at each thing on her list. “He'll find her, Eren. This'll just be nothing but a bad memory soon.”

She smiles, but it comes out sad from the red that tints her waterline.

Eren doesn't have the energy to try to appear cheerful from her encouragement, and limits himself to a nod.

“Eren, how long have you been up?” Sasha asks with concern from his desk, where her eyes scan over his computer screen and the stacks of paper with your face printed front and center.

“A few hours?” Eren replies with a shrug, to which everyone else exchanges concerned glances.

Jean breaks the silence with a loud clap, refusing to make way for any awkwardness in the air.

“We brought you some food, buddy. Come on, let's eat.”

Sasha eagerly nods, her enthusiasm a bit too stiff it almost seems rehearsed, as she encourages him to follow them to the dining table.

Eren allows himself to be tugged along for a couple of steps before he tethers himself to his spot for a moment and then decidedly takes a step back under everyone's puzzled expressions.

“I'm not really hungry,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

“Are you sure?” Mikasa gently asks.

“We got your favorite soup,” Jean smiles, though Eren is too busy staring at a blank point to notice. “Minestrone.”

“Extra parmesan,” Sasha adds.

“It's fine.” Eren assures them with a forced smile. “You guys eat. I have a lot of things to do.”

“Well, you can't do them on an empty stomach. Let's eat and then we'll go through your to-do list together,” Jean insists.

“Yeah,” Mikasa agrees, shooting a grateful smile to her fiancé. “Jean can drive you to the station after breakfast and Sasha and I can handle the rest.”

Every offer is sensible and comforting, but Eren still refuses. He can't eat, not when you still haven't come home.

“No…” his voice trembles ever so slightly as his eyes wander around the room, as if looking for an excuse. He ultimately makes his way back to his desk, where the stacks of posters await him. “I'll just head out now. I'm gonna hand some of these out before going to the station.”

The rejected trio exchange another round of anxious, meaningful looks. Mikasa's the first to break away from the group to join Eren in gathering a stack of flyers and a roll of tape from the black metal organizer on his desk.

As her hands roam around the surface of the ash gray wood, the jewel on her finger catches the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

Eren's movements grow slow as his focus is stolen by the silver engagement ring.

Mikasa notices the pause in his movements from the corner of her eye, and looks up at him to assess his status. Eren tears his gaze from her ring — embarrassed —, but not fast enough for it to go unnoticed, nor does he remember to ease his hardened jaw afterwards. He moves in silence and sets a fast pace toward the door, leaving an anguished Mikasa to trail at his heel.

Hour Twenty

It takes a handful of hours for Eren to get back home from the station, with a significant reduction to the baggage he left with. The stream of questions would've been fairly simple had he not been charged with so many uneasy feelings as to why he was doing all of it in the first place. It certainly didn't help that he had to face the same people who had simply left this morning. But he has to do things right — even if it means swallowing his anger to contribute with any useful information.

Social media presence, daily routines, bus routes, habits, friends, family situation.

Saying you know someone like the back of your hand is an odd saying, he thinks. He's not that vain to spend lengthy periods of time observing himself. In his case, it suffices to say he simply knows you — all he's done is look at you.

He knows your hands quite well. The shape of your fingers, the curves of your knuckles and the warmth of your palms when they latch onto his heartbeat and manipulate it to your will. And now what's been left since last night is a painful cavity. It's all wrong. Your hand should be here, filling his void.

The apartment is empty, Jean and Sasha long gone. The plastic bags have been folded into neat triangles and the counter has been cleared. Upon opening the fridge, Eren finds stacks of containers that have been added to those Armin helped put away the previous night from the uncelebrated dinner.

He stares at his packed fridge for a long time, any energy to step away vanishing into thin air and leaving him stuck in place, looking straight ahead until he no longer recognizes the shape of anything inside, and he grows numb at the cold air that slowly envelops him.

A ring from his pocket is what finally pulls him out of his daze and he's quick to whip the device out and accept the incoming call with pure urgency and no thought.

“I'm only assuming you've been too excited to call me to tell me how it went last night,” Carla's playfully accusing tone comes through the speaker.

“Mom,” Eren pronounces in a voice so soft, yet empty as he only acknowledges it's her, but any word that bounces off his tongue is devoid of meaning until he can speak the name he wants to.

“So,” Carla's enthusiastic grin is evident through the phone. “Was she thrilled? What did she say?”

Eren's voice fails him.

In all the anxiety and chaos, with all the things he's had to do within the last twenty hours, he completely forgot to tell his mother what had happened and that moment is catching up to him now.

His lips roll inwards, a habit reserved for when he's feeling shy because of things you say or do, and now has come back because of his lack of words — or rather the will to expel them.

His hand comes up to his hair, his fingers brushing his hair back as he struggles to find his voice.

It's only when Eren takes a second too long to reply that a shift in mood can be sensed from Carla's end of the line.

“Eren,” she calls him carefully, which only makes the lump in his throat grow. “Honey, what's wrong?”

“Mom,” is all Eren can muster, voice cracking as he pushes the word out.

“Did you have a fight? Is everything okay?” Carla's concern amplifies through the speaker, as something rustles in the background, a sign that she's taken on a more alert position.

“You didn't break up, did you?”

Out of all the things that could've gone wrong last night, Eren wishes that had been it. At least he wouldn't be as helpless. At least he'd know where you are. At least it's something he could reverse.

“No.”

The word comes out choked, his throat instantly sore for the second time.

His monosyllabic replies must be getting to her, because Carla takes a deep breath before trying again.

“Eren, honey. You have to speak clearly, okay?” Carla's voice grows gentle, as it always has whenever Eren would have trouble speaking his mind. Granted, that's been lost as he got older, but Carla's sweet attention hasn't. “What happened?”

Her patient voice finally manages to coax the lodged words from Eren's throat.

“I don't know where she is. She's missing.”

Hour Twenty-four

Rain is bad for detective work. Eren heard about it in a documentary or a podcast, or maybe he read it somewhere — he can't remember. But it supposedly washes away any evidence, making easy cases tricky and difficult cases nearly impossible. Considering the silver angel necklace was found in the midst of the sky falling, it comes as no surprise when he comes home from a casual meet up with Levi at a nearby coffee shop with the news that no DNA or signs of a struggle were found on site after a thorough search in the light of day. The other half of the broken angel wing was found stuck on the edge of a sewer grate, though. Eren would feel any comfort at all if it meant it would lead to something. But at least the necklace can be fixed for when he finds you and this is all over.

The necklace is pretty much a dead end, but it'll remain under the police's hold just in case.

Eren has never gone so long without seeing your face. Now that the clock has found its way back to the hour you were supposed to walk through his door, it's unbearable to know that you won't. And still he looks over in its direction every few minutes, expecting you to burst in and throw yourself into his embrace, marking the end to a day-long fever dream.

That's probably it. A dream. No, a nightmare. It's nothing but a wicked play of his subconscious — to teach him a lesson on appreciating you more. Maybe to scare him into doing a better job of protecting you. Maybe he's gotten too lax, too careless. After all, the city hasn't been terrorized by any violent crimes in the last few months. But that's no excuse to dismiss the possibility of danger. Right… There was a killer last year. Two murders. No suspects. No arrests. And there was a burglary just last night. So what if…

No.

Eren pulls at his hair, agitated by where his mind is leading him. He pulls hard on the strands, like they're the reins of his thoughts that he needs to redirect onto a less horrifying path.

His phone dings as if on cue with a text message.

I'll be there soon, honey. Get some rest, I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.

A tap on the attached file opens up a copy of a plane ticket for the day after tomorrow under the name Carla Jaeger.

His heart feels a tad lighter.

It'll help to have his mother around for a few days. He types his gratitude into his phone and presses send.

He lets his face fall into his hands as he hunches over his desk.

Everything will be okay, he repeats to himself in his head like a mantra.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Everything will be okay.

Outside, rain starts to fall.

Hour Thirty

The rain has been on and off for hours.

By the time Eren reconnected with his surroundings, ready to go out and look for clues on his own around the area, the rain was nearly as heavy as it was at three in the morning.

He sits by the living room window, watching the downpour. His phone is charging on a wooden stool next to him, taking a break from another round of calls to nearby hospitals to ask for any patients bearing your name. Still no.

His stomach has been growling for a while, but any energy he possesses isn't the kind that'll get him off his chair and into the kitchen — it's the kind that's meant to be used to stare out the window and grow numb over any trivial needs.

It's fine, he thinks. It'll pass.

Hour Thirty-seven

All five of his friends come through the door a little past seven in the morning, with bags of fresh meals to share.

Eren sits down this time, allowing Mikasa to fix him a plate and Connie to pour him a glass of juice.

Nobody mentions the dark circles under his eyes, and Eren's gaze is too lost on a blank point to sense the meaningful glances exchanged all around him.

There's not much room for conversation. Any sense of normalcy is lost in the thick air. It seems equally wrong to create a lighthearted break for the length of a meal as it is to talk about the empty seat across from Eren when everyone is trying so hard to make sure he's at the very least feeding himself.

Eren merely pokes and stirs at his food with his fork the entire time. There's a fresh stack of flyers on his desk that demand more urgency in his eyes than sitting down to eat.

His demeanor is easy to read by everyone at the table, yet another round of concerned glances and subtle nods in his direction being tossed around with silent messages.

In the end, nobody says a thing and the groups is broken off in pairs to tackle the surrounding neighborhoods.

Hour Forty-five

Nobody has called. Not him or the station. As the only person outside of the police to be contacted for any updates, his phone should've rung at least once. But aside from yesterday's encounter with Levi and his visits to the station to see if his presence alone will bring something up, there's been a drought in leads. And despite his determination in making sure every person he passes knows anything, there's still nothing.

It's been hours since his stomach has demanded his attention. It's finally reached the point where it's so empty, it's gone numb. His body is running on nothing more than sheer will and water.

He should at least try to eat, test if he can hold any food down.

The fridge remains packed with food, even more now thanks to what's been gathered from his morning visits.

Ever so slowly, with overly cautious movements, he takes out a container, transports it to the counter and peels off the lid. It's from the dinner you were supposed to share two nights ago.

His lips tremble, eyebrows upturning for the split second it takes him to grasp back at his composure. An outsider would think he's glaring at his leftovers, disgusted at whatever is inside, completely misunderstanding the mental ordeal he's traversing as he takes several deep breaths.

He pulls out a stool from the breakfast bar, sits down and stares.

Hour Forty-eight

It's been two whole days since Eren has stepped foot in his own bedroom.

His feet drag him toward the bed without stopping to flip the light switch. Though the night is cloudy, signaling another shower for tonight, the moonlight still finds its way into the room just enough for his eyes to take in the most basic shapes of his furniture.

He comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, and his gaze zeroes in on the neatly folded white cotton fabric set on the corner. It's the shirt you slept in two nights ago, the one that's the wrong size because it's his and he likes his clothes to be just a bit baggy.

It's the shirt he gently tugged off your body to feel your skin pressed against his. The one that you take care in folding even if you're in a rush and even though he'll throw it in the wash anyway.

His fingers slowly reach out to collect the fabric.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

It still smells like you. Just barely — a mere scrap of notes that have faded over the last two days. A mix of vanilla, citrus and a faint trace of eucalyptus fabric softener.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Breathe, Eren.

It doesn't work. The air is too thick. It gets caught in his throat and forces a choked sob on its way back out.

His face contorts in anguish as he falls onto the bed, curled up in an attempt to make himself as small as humanly possible, with your shirt clutched in his hands as the world outside darkens and he simply weeps.

Previous chapter | Next chapter (tba)

Minors and ageless blogs who interact will be blocked

Notes: Tunnel Vision will continue, just not with the same schedule it had before my hiatus. I’ll be adding word count and progress updates in the chapter guide in case you want to keep up with the story in that way (It’ll also give you an estimate of when the next chapter will be posted. I have ideas for some ficlets, which I’ll do my best to post in between TV updates just so I don’t leave you all hanging with Eren content. It’ll depend a lot on whether I see any enthusiasm for it or not though (aka comments and reblogs that aren’t… well… empty). In the meantime, thank you for the support and feel free to slip into my ask box to chat :)

Chapter guide | Masterlist | Navigation

taglist: @erenjaegerwifee @youatemylollipop @okaystopwhore @bakuhoethotski @f4irygard3n @saybeyonce @indeedbooks15

#aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yeager fanfiction #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #eren jaeger x you #aot x y/n #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x y/n

85 notes · View notes

crabsnpersimmons · 11 months ago

Text

hi @uwuinhell!

i have a bit of a long answer to this, so i hope you don’t mind me replying as a post, just in case anyone else is curious

the tl;dr is: i'm planning to write a fic for this AU, but i'm happy to read your fic as well with proper credit

first thing is: i’m overjoyed by the positive response to this little AU! it’s definitely been occupying my mind as i’ve been studying (Eclipse is notably the most distracting) so i’m glad there’s an interest in such a simple premise—i was honestly hesitant to call it an AU at first by how simple an idea it is

that being said, i’ve been hinting at it a bit in some of my tags, but i am planning to write a fic for this AU it’s still in the planning and drabble stage, but there is definitely a story that i’m hoping to share. unfortunately, i am currently attempting to speedrun a 2 year program, so my time is short—and my leisure time is split between my other competing ideas and inhaling other people’s creative works to revive me after my daily readings

i will say that the AU has evolved quite a bit since my initial drawings—new designs, more background info, and a healthy dose of lore and trauma for the entire main cast—so there’s a lot i’m excited to share with you all

THAT BEING SAID, i am always eager to encourage other people’s creativity and i am so honoured that my little doodles can inspire people to be creative. so i would absolutely love to see your fic, i just ask that you:

credit me if it uses my designs and ideas; and

send me a link so i can read it, because i will read it and i will treasure it and do a silly little dance

in case anyone's curious, here are some not-too-spoilery notes about what i’m planning:

the working title is “New Do, Same You” (honestly still iffy about it—it fits the story but it doesn’t quite ring well, we’ll see if i keep it)

it’s a slice of life story about how we respond to change, dusting ourselves off and moving forward, while carrying the baggage and fragile trinkets that define us

off the top of my head, these are some relevant tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Polyamory, Hurt & Comfort, Drama, Slice of Life, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Kissing (eventually), Humour, Possessive Behaviour, Healthy and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Inferiority Complex, Body Dysmorphia, Existential Dread, Fluff, nothing NSFW

will likely default to a T rating, but will bump up to M for heavier topics

it will definitely be more than 5 chapters long. i don’t have an estimate on how long the fic will be. it's nothing too grand but i do know it will need quite a bit of time in order to properly explore all 3 of the boys and Y/N

there will be a Y/N, and Y/N has some lore, but other than some key backstory and key areas of development, i try to keep them gender neutral and as ambiguous as possible

i’ll be sharing the updated designs and some drabbles here when i have time—as soon as i can! (a little sneak peak is actually scheduled to post sometime today!)

i’ll also admit that this is my first time planning to write such a big fic and the first time i’m considering sharing it with other fans! my writing muse is very shy, so please be patient with me

in the meantime, please accept this (admittedly outdated) doodle of the boys:

#fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf eclipse #fnaf dca #dca fandom #New Do Same You AU #(k adding “AU” at the end makes it ring a little nicer all the rhymes i guess)#the doodle is outdated because 2/3 of them have updated designs #and all 3 of them have shiny new backstories haHA #but i still love this doodle #will definitely be redrawing this when with the new designs when i have the time #crab art #ask the crab #crab chatter #long post

60 notes · View notes

tielesiti-eftu · 10 months ago

Text

just so Tumblr has the same info that the Rainworld Discord has currently

the second screenshot was sent in the announcements channel by the same person that sent the first big message. they were both sent yesterday at 2:46 PM and 3:19 PM (CST)

I don't follow Rain World tags so I don't know if this has been posted but just in case it hasn't, I wanted to make sure it was known that the Ludeo situation has been acknowledged and hopefully a statement should be made in a day or two

EDIT 1

another message just went out from Buddy a couple minutes ago

EDIT 2

the update has been pulled completely!

this edit to the post is admittedly very late--I saw it stop getting notes, and figured that was the end of things, but since it just got five more today I wanted to retroactively add this part. my apologies for not doing so sooner.

I urge anyone that reblogged the version of this post without his information to please reblog this version, since the situation is now resolved; I don't want people to assume it's still ongoing when it was wrapped up nearly a week ago

#rain world #rain world downpour

48 notes · View notes

tag-that-oc · 1 year ago

Note

Do you have any Ocs you’d like to talk about??

oh boy do i

im gonna introduce my scrungly my poor little meow meow my pathetic loser the love of my life. Arvid Sheldon Moreno <3

ill add trigger tags too of course but just in case: warning for abuse, violence, death, and kidnapping

first of all i am a Terrible artist but here's a commission i got of him from the lovely jester @/ghostcasket (with commissions still open here is the info post. go commission them he's wonderful)

anyways. ARVID. basically he's a second generation oc from the project me and the other mod have. he is like. 3/4 alien?? something like that. but he was born on earth and that's where he grew up.

his parents are lovely and perhaps very strange but they are so good to their kids. Arvid is a mama's boy in particular he is very close to her and very protective of her.

so. what's wrong with him then???? surely he has Every Problem Ever. well he does. when he was a kid he didn't really have any friends. he was outcasted and bullied from various sources but none more so than Alex. fuck Alex we hate that guy.

Alex caused problems for Arvid basically his whole life. he was harassed and followed and beaten and manipulated and. well a lot of things!!

Arvid met and became friends with Izan who was infinitely better for Arvid and nicer and they were just really close. however that didn't stop Alex from being an asshole ya know. and it got even worse when Izan broke off from Arvid due to trying to manage his own trauma of a recent event unrelated to Arvid's stuff

so what did Arvid do? he clung to Alex and they became "friends". during this time Alex really drilled into Arvid's head the idea that he shouldn't cry, that he was weak, that no one else could tolerate him, and Arvid believed it all. things escalated until Alex and one of his other friends attacked and stabbed Arvid during a time when Izan and Arvid were trying to patch things up. and they left him there.

Izan got him help, but Arvid refused to let Alex get into trouble. in fact he had a strong fondness and loyalty to him and so what did he do? he confessed that he was in love with Alex. and Alex, ever amused and delighted by the power and control he had over Arvid, accepted his confession and they started dating.

and they didn't break up for a really really long time!

however this is all the backstory info! (well not all of his backstory but Some of it) this isn't even taking into account the story events! the story events being Arvid and his entire family gets kidnapped and taken to an alien planet because these fucked up brothers were trying to get and erase information on the esp experiments that happened during the first generation (meaning the things Arvid's parents went through) and. well long story short Dawson (does anyone remember when i talked about him?) was forced by his older brothers to kill Arvid and his mom. fucked up!!

but it's okay, isn't it? yeah Arvid comes back to life thanks to a wish made by Dawson on this super powerful wish granting magical rock. and they all live happily ever after on earth!

but not really.

when Arvid gets back he discovers that in addition to being brought back to life, he's now immortal. which is the LAST thing he wants because he didn't even want to be brought back to life if he was being honest. and Alex being the wonderful person he is decides to use this to his advantage (basically isn't it fun to kill your boyfriend over and over while he remains blindly loyal to you? Alex seems to think so)

however Arvid has other relationship drama going on. he has feelings for soo many other people but didn't feel worthy enough to be in a relationship with any of them. why would anyone ever like him back ya know?

except a lot of them did like him back. a lot actually. and Arvid starts dating others and building this lovely little polycule of people who really and genuinely love and care about him. and it takes a long time, but eventually Arvid breaks things off with Alex and tries to be happy. key word being that he tries because sometimes he doesn't do a very good job of it. he's still got it in his head that he deserves to suffer and will go on self destructive spirals now that he doesn't have a boyfriend beating him to shit constantly anymore.

some fun facts about Arvid is that he's a supervillain. i mean not Really a supervillain but he's a loser and tells everyone that he's evil. type of guy to steal from large corporations but not from local places. but this is all evil deeds he swears it. he also has plans to take over the world which he only shares with people he really trusts. he's so lame <3

he's also extremely emotional and will cry really easily but. well due to Alex Reasons he will belittle himself for showing sadness. he is obsessed with people seeing him as strong when his 5'3 ass can't even open a pickle jar

Arvid is also very very soft and sensitive about bugs he loves bugs!!! they were his best friends back when he didn't have any friends and even now he still treats them so gently. it's a really cool contrast to his usual edgy personality.

also!! he has really bad luck all the time <3 constantly tripping over stuff and falling in puddles and breaking his phone and. other bad luck stuff.

anyways i hope you enjoyed my insane ramblings about my scrungy little guy

#fishe speaks #fishe ocs #love it when you guys ask about my ocs i have so many and so much to say about them all :3 #abuse #tw abuse #violence #tw violence #death #tw death #kidnapping #tw kidnapping #tw knife #side note this is just a basic overview of arvid he has So Much more infos

60 notes · View notes

twcaw · 8 months ago

Text

What You Should Know

General Info:

Running from September 8th - September 14th 2024, Teen Wolf ‘Cest Appreciation Week is a week to celebrate all the incestuous ships that Teen Wolf has to offer. From Halecest to Argentcest, McCallcest to Stilinskicest, Yukimuracest or some Alpha Twincest, whatever you want to create is up to you - and all of it is welcome!

Rules:

1. Please, please remain respectful.

No kink shaming, nasty comments or overall rudeness. This should be kept a safe and welcoming place for anyone participating (whether that’s as a content creator or content consumer!). Really, just be nice!

2. Works in progress are welcome!

We all know how much work it can be to finish up fics for an appreciation week. Hopefully everyone will have lots of time to create as much amazing content as they want, but in the case that you don’t finish something up - don’t worry! WIP’s are more than welcome.

3. Themes are not mandatory!

If you don’t like a specific theme (or any of the themes) that is a-ok! They are more suggestions that you can follow if you want - the purpose of this event is to get people creating content for our favourite 'cest ships.

Posting:

How does posting work? This account be tracking all posts under the tag #TWCAW2024 tag and will reshare all posts that tag this blog. You can also post to the AO3 collection here.

Questions:

If you have any questions, you can jump over to the ask box and ask! Anonymous questions are open and welcome as well. Ask your questions here.

Lastly, have fun!!

Again, the purpose of this event is to create fun content for Teen Wolf 'Cest ships. Keep an eye out for a Theme List, and have fun creating!

#twcaw #teen wolf #teen wolf 'cest appreciation week 2024 #halecest #stilinskicest #mccallcest #argentcest #yukimuracest #twcaw2024 #tw

20 notes · View notes

roxtron · 5 months ago

Text

Pinned post/About me thing

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

you can call me whatever, i usually go by some variation of my username but i don't mind nicknames and stuff

he/they

i'm autistic so my posts will probably vary by whatever/whenever certain special interests/hyperfixations are stronger at the time

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

A bit of info about what I post/reblog

i make original art sometimes but art block has been really tough so unfortunately i don't have a lot to post lately :(

besides that I'll usually make either rambling or analysis posts on whatever subject I'm posting about, usually fandom related. occasionally theories but that depends on if what I'm posting about really leaves room for theorizing.

I reblog pretty casually on here so it can range from stuff i find funny to stuff i think could use awareness, fandom-wise this blog somehow became pretty fnaf centered lol, not quite sure how that happened but i still consider it my main.

if i reblog other people's art or analysis I usually try to leave my thoughts in the tags, but sometimes I have a hard time thinking of what to say so sorry if I reblog your work and don't say anything/don't seem enthusiastic about it, if I reblog something it's because I adore it lol, I just don't always know how to put thoughts into words. <3

and as a side note, while I do try to check blogs of people I reblog in case it's a terf or whatever, sometimes you never know, so if I do reblog something from someone who's done something shitty don't hesitate to let me know with an ask or something because chances are I probably don't know lol.

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

Boundaries stuff I guess.

I know DNI lists are annoying and pointless but whatever, if there's a chance it'll get people to leave me alone it's worth it. I shouldn't need to list obvious ones like terfs, transphobes, homophobes, all those assholes. But also, if you don't like one of my posts, I'd rather you block me and move on than hate reblog it. It's immature and annoying, and I won't hesitate to block people that do it.

Obviously I don't just mean "if you criticize something I post you're bad," I'm alright with criticism as long as it's respectful, but if you're gonna reblog just to say "look at this idiot" then fuck off.

Sorry about how aggressive that may have been but I don't wanna deal with stuff like that. I've dealt with it in the past and it sucks, if you don't like me, that's perfectly fine, but just block me and move on. Onto a more positive topic.. If you wanna use my art for pfps or anything that's really cool actually!! Ofc I'd ask for credit but if anyone did want a pfp of something I've drawn you can always send me an ask and I'll post a zoomed in version or something or make whatever edit you wanted so you don't need to worry about it lol Besides all that you don't have to worry about interacting with me, if you've got any questions whether that's related to me or my blog you don't have to hesitate to send an ask if you want :)

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

Sideblogs

I've recently made sideblogs for other fandoms people don't follow me for here. I figured it'd be easier to separate them but mostly for spoilers' sake. Sure I try to spoiler tag but people aren't gonna block spoiler tags for fandoms they're not in if they see it and I'd hate to spoil someone for a series they could've had the chance to go into blind. That being said, please don't follow my other blogs unless you already know the spoilers for whatever fandom the blog's centered around. As much as I appreciate support I'd hate for you to get spoiled and I'd much rather wait for you to play the game yourself <3 (since as of now they're both video game fandoms..) @roxtron-kh (Kingdom Hearts)

@roxtron-gt (Ghost Trick)

----------------------------------------------------------- Woo I think that's everything! Finally I can get to the tags section of this long-ass post.. I wanna try to tag things more properly in the future, even if I'm not really big enough to warrant it, I still wanna be able to find my own stuff easier at least through the sea of reblogs, so if you're curious about any of my posts, here's a list of tags you can look through! I'm currently trying to update some of my old posts with tags so they can be added to the list.

#my art #my analysis #vanny swarm saga #(for context that one's from a security breach glitch i had fun with lol.. it went on for multiple posts so i figured it deserved a tag.)#i'll probably add more tags in the future but considering how small my account is I don't do a lot so I don't have a lot to tag lol #hope you enjoy your time here :D

14 notes · View notes

theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 8 months ago

Text

Author's note: This lemon-drenched snippet is not for minors nor the good of taste. It's cursed. This is your first warning. The second is the "Read more" cut. After that, you are on your own and any bad decisions are your own <3 Check the tags for more info. Enjoy~

It’s just his luck.

He’d been separated from Ron, Hermione, and Dobby just as the house elf’s magic transported them away from Malfoy Manor, leaving Harry there. Alone. Surrounded by Death Eaters. Well, Bellatrix and three less-than-enthusiastic Malfoys, but the odds still weren’t in Harry’s favour.

So he’d used Malfoy’s wand to blow up a wall with a well-placed bombarda and ran the fuck away in the ensuing chaos. His ears are still ringing from Bellatrix’s demented screeching.

And he has yet to be found – his scar feels like hot oil is being poured into it with how irate Voldemort is with the incompetence of his followers because of this fact. The issue is that Harry couldn’t give anyone directions to find him, either. Malfoy Manor may as well be a labyrinth with all the twisting, circuitous paths and hallways and nooks (and even some crannies). He is thoroughly lost.

He’s made his way to a three-storey attached greenhouse, filled with plants large and small. Most are magical, but some he recognises from his many, many hours weeding and tending to Aunt Petunia’s garden. He’s not sure who would be more disgusted to have shared tastes – his aunt or Narcissa Malfoy.

With the far wall being entirely glass, Harry is almost certain he can get outside from here. There has to be a door. And… well, if there isn’t, he’s not going to be shy about breaking some windows, if that’s what needs to be done.

He finds a patch of glass panels that have no plants nearby and thinks he’s on to something. Carefully checking for hinges or handles or any other sign that he could open them, Harry’s attention is fully on the glass.

This proves to be a mistake.

He has the barest hint of what’s to come when he feels a curiously fleshy press against his ankle, and then he’s being dragged on his stomach away from the greenhouse wall and into a dark, leafy mass that blots out the scant moonlight.

And he recognises the shape of these leaves. After their adventure at the end of first year, he’d made sure to remember this plant in case he ever ran into it again. This Devil’s Snare is a bit more proactive than the others he’s seen, though. They’re typically opportunistic and wait for victims to come to them – he doesn’t remember them pursuing prey.

He very slowly and gently extracts his stolen wand from his sleeve and casts lumos. But instead of shrinking away from the light – like the bloody thing should – the plant somehow produces an ear-splitting shriek and seizes his wrist with a vine, squeezing until he drops his wand and using another vine to bat it away, spinning into an unseen corner.

And now he’s pissed the plant off. Unarmed and still in the grip of a vine, Harry feels the adrenaline kick in. He slows his breathing and tries to stay calm, as struggling will only make things worse, but it is difficult. He wants to get as far away from this weird Devil’s Snare as quickly as he can – he feels the hair on the back of his neck standing up – but he’s not sure how to manage that.

He feels a rough, vegetal limb slip under his shirt, making him panic and twitch, and that seems to be the sign the plant was waiting for. The vine around his wrist pulls taut, drawing his arm out and pinning it in place as more vines wind around his legs and drag them straight, while others twist around his torso, trapping his left arm to his side. He feels very much like a favoured toy being fought over, tugged in all directions and unable to escape or even move.

The vine under his shirt begins prodding at his belly, making him squirm and causing the vines to squeeze tighter until he shouts in pain, at which they loosen slightly. Then, he feels more and more tentative touches along his legs, his chest, his hair, and his face – everywhere they can reach.

They poke around his mouth, and he keeps it firmly shut until the vines around his ankles clench tightly enough to force another pained cry out of him. An inquisitive tendril sneaks inside his open mouth. He bites through it immediately, spitting the end out with savage glee. With another high-pitched noise, the plant wraps a vine around his throat, squeezing tighter and tighter until he’s certain he will pass out, black edging his vision and lungs on fire with lack of air.

When it lets up, he coughs and hacks until his body remembers how to breathe, and he pants in as much air as he can. Several thin vines take advantage of this, slipping into his mouth to trace his teeth and tongue, press against his cheeks and palate. He switches to breathing through his nose and threatens to bite the vines again, but there are enough that he can’t close his mouth tightly enough to shear through them.

He’s lost track of what’s happening to the rest of him, but the other vines have been busy in his inattention. And damn the Dursleys and their hand-me-downs from Dudley, and damn Harry for not buying better-fitting clothes, because there’s plenty of room for those vines to wriggle under his jumper and trousers. He squawks through a mouthful of vines when a couple caress a little too closely to his delicate bits for comfort. Thankfully they continue past that part of him, though the sensation of them rubbing against his bare thighs isn’t much better.

“Well, well, Harry Potter,” a familiar voice says from somewhere. “We’re finally together again and you’d rather entertain the flora.”

Harry has never been happier to see– er, hear Voldemort. He’d rather take his chances with the bigoted megalomaniac than the amorous plant weaving tighter around him.

Except Voldemort doesn’t do anything – doesn’t even say anything else. When a vine sneaks down the back of Harry’s trousers and starts prodding at a place it really shouldn’t be prodding, Harry’s had enough.

He fights his way up far enough to glare at Voldemort, silently demanding why he’s not killing him or cutting him out of this lusty Devil’s Snare to monologue at him before killing him. The bastard plant takes exception to this, attempting to pull him back down and pressing more insistently against his arse. Harry grunts in alarm, squirming away as much as he can when the vine simply follows him to push harder into him. He squeaks, and if his face looks more pleading than he’d like, he’s willing to cut himself some slack.

Maintaining eye contact, Voldemort conjures a wingback chair and sits down in it a few feet away, facing Harry.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he drawls, leaning back and getting comfortable. “I’m in no hurry.”

Harry groans in distress as the plant's many limbs continue to move against and in him.

(Part two, where the Harrymort happens)

#harry potter #lemon #but a very odd cursed lemon #voldemort #on my quest to make devil's-snarry a thing #you're welcome #plantacles #non con #hp smut #harrymort #kind of #it gets there eventually

18 notes · View notes

the-ultimate-squish · 1 year ago

Text

Welcome to the Ultimate Squishmallow Tournament!

PLEASE DO NOT BUY SQUISHMALLOWS IRL. If you do want to still purchase Squishmallows, buying them secondhand should still be okay. I made this blog before the CEO of Squishmallows made it aware that he is financially supporting Israel. More information/resources will be provided under the cut.

I will begin posting resources at the bottom of each poll. Any additional posts related to this will be tagged with #SquishBoycott ; while this is an important matter to keep up to date on and I urge you to continue your research/keep up to date on the matter as a whole outside of Squishmallows, I understand muting this tag for the sake of mental health, as this blog was originally created for fun away from the cruelties of the world. As a note this is not a part of the official boycott.

As of right now, I am not postponing the tournament but am open to doing so as the matter progresses.

This is a tournament to determine Tumblr's favorite squishmallow, inspired by accounts such as @webkinztournament, including all 2,000+ Squishmallows as seen on the wikipedia (which can be viewed here).

More info under the cut

Current Round

Round 2 will begin November 27 @ 12 A.M. EST and be posted every hour. Each poll will run for one week. Specific schedule for each matchup can be found here.

Resources

Squishmallow Alternatives + my current reasoning for the tournament (subject to change)

More info on the matter with sources

Official Boycott

If anyone has more resources please send them my way.

Exclusions

The only squishmallows that will not be considered for the tournament are licensed squads, unnamed squish, and any squish without a link on the wiki page. This last decision is due to the fact that I cannot find images or information on these squishes if they do not have a wiki page. A list will be provided here of all unincluded squish. If anyone would like to send a picture of said squish to be included, I will gladly do so! Otherwise, they basically don't exist anywhere I can find on the internet and will not be considered. Unnamed squishmallows and licensed squads will not be included regardless.

Pairings

For round 1, each squishmallow was randomly paired by spinning a wheel (this took actually forever). From there, winners will move on the face off the winner of the next pair, and then the winner of the next pair, and so on in a bracket. More information on each squish will be provided once there are less squish per round.

Ties

In the case of an even 50/50 tie, I (the host) will ask 3 irl friends that have not voted to break the tie.

Propaganda

You are welcome to send propaganda for your favorite squish via the ask box, by reblogging the poll, or @'ing this account. I will do my best to promote said propaganda on this page, tagged with #propaganda. Overall, please BE KIND. This is a tournament for fun and not meant to cause actual discourse.

Tags

#Announcement - Poll Announcements #SOT2023 - Squishmallow of Tumblr Poll #Propaganda - Propaganda for Squish #Not Poll - Other posts, likely reblogs. Will be used in this beginning week to promote the blog before voting begins, in attempt to get a bigger sample size

Additional tags will be tags for each round, such as SOT2023R1 (Squishmallow of Tumblr 2023 Round 1), the name of each 'mallow, and #Squishmallow #Squishmallows on one poll a day to avoid flooding (there are a lot of 'mallows). #tournament poll and #poll will also be used for sample size, as well as some other additional tags at least in the beginning. However, these are all the main ones to be used for navigations!

75 notes · View notes

mariatesstruther · 1 year ago

Note

I honestly don't get why Maria was so anti-Joel oh he's a horrible person he's done horrible things he can't be around us, but accepted Tommy fully to the point he's the father of her child when both did the same things, ran with the same people and all of that.

I mean I love the character, but that confuses the hell out of me. Why's Tommy accepted but Joel damned?

okay, so… this response took me like half hour to write. my wrists hurt, my jaw is clenched, my brain is hot. i love u anon thank u very much for this chance to vent about just why my girl maria has been so misunderstood. let’s go

i personally think this is where many people fundamentally misunderstand maria’s perception of joel. she’s not cautious of him primarily because of tommy or anything tommy has said, in my personal opinion—she’s cautious of him for and because of ellie

ive said this on my blog a few times and i think so have @steeb-stn and @clickergossip (and maybe @liveandletcry23 and @bumblepony i have a shit memory so tagging just in case) so im gonna tag them to credit their words and ideas about maria as well, but the FIRST time maria sees joel, he’s with this rando twelve year old girl who he is seemingly so protective over that she cant even be sniffed by dogs who are just trying to detect infection, which would be good for ANYBODY. that’s his first strike for untrustworthyness, because why the fuck wouldn’t he let this girl be tested???—we know why, of course, but maria doesnt. shes working on the very limited info about joel/ellie’s relationship that she has from just her own observations, and i think we need to remember that as we go through analyzing why she moves how she moves

shes knows from tommy at this point is that joel had a daughter, but it is definitely not this little girl. so why the fuck are they so close. what have they gone through. are they okay. is ellie okay. is their relationship safe for her??? THAT’s what she’s thinking about, in my opinion, while shes staring joel down at that dinner table. she’s reasonbly suspicious, and i can’t blame her for it.

i had to cut this it’s literally maybe my longest post ever so. heres the cut

ALSO, it’s not like she’s a straight up bitch to joel like some of y’all seem to make it out to be??? she never says or implies that “they can’t be around” or anything like that. she offers them clothes and food and supplies. she sets them up in a house. before dinner, she gives them a personal tour (which, to be fair, she did because she was probably trying to keep an eye on them and figure out more about whether or not ellie is safe, but who wouldnt???? i know tess would! and yall would love her for it!). tommy literally says to joel before they leave that there will always be a place for him and ellie in jackson—you cannot tell me you believe he said so without already have maria’s green light for joel and ellie to stay

ALSO, i wanna consider some other things that i haven’t seen many ppl talk about. on that walk she takes with tommy and joel and ellie, she makes it sound like tommy has been with them for at least years AND she maintains the confidence to say that residents in jackson stay off the radio—i could totally be wrong, but it seems to me from the look tommy and joel share right after that it’s obvious tommy has been talking to joel BEHIND MARIA’S BACK???? did no one else catch that??? am i misinterpreting big time??? id assume because theyre married and from the way tommy talks about jackson that he’s been in jackson for at least 3 years maybe, and we know that he only stopped radioing joel a couple months before the show’s main plotline starts, so timeline wise there had to be some overlap of tommy still radioing joel from/around jackson. idk if anyone of my mutuals has thoughts on this but i personally think it’s important to point out, because it establishes that maria likely doesn’t know or think tommy and joel kept in contact, at least not as recently as up to some months ago. she knows that tommy and joel are close, but at the same time, she doesn’t think tommy really knows or talks to joel anymore, either. so how is she supposed to extend him any trust as tommy’s brother????? how and why would she give this man any benefit of the doubt???? it wouldn’t make any sense. she’s more practical and discerning than she is naive and kind, and y’all can think what y’al want about that but i love her for it. it’s very necessary for a woman like her to be the way she is

okay, so back to your question. back to why joel is “damned” and tommy is “accepted.” let’s talk about joel for a sec

y’all like to babygirl and idolize the absolute fuck out of this man

we know that not only was he a smuggler, but he killed and tricked and took advantage of people, shamelessly and brutally. we know that tommy did so too. maria knows that tommy has done the same things. maria also knows that tommy left that life because he couldnt do it anymore, and joel continued because he could

point blank period!!!!! yall can argue with me all u want but tommy left that murder life and joel did not. im not saying this makes either brother good or bad or better than the other, i love joel sm and i think both of them have an undisputed capability to do unspeakable things in order to survive. but tommy got to a point where he hit a limit, whereas joel doesn’t seem to have one. this is at least my personal interpretation of their conversations in the game and the show

tommy DID join the fireflies, which we all know now is not any fucking better than whatever the fuck joel was doing—the difference is the reasoning, though, and considering tlou is all about reasoning and the why, we need to consider the reasoning behind tommy’s decision: he wanted to do something better, something good, something he thought had a purpose. we all know now that the fireflies are bullshit, their purpose is bullshit, and they’re willingness to kill a child for the sake of the “cure” is it’s own entire paradox of bullshit. but they were a rebel organization fighting fedra, who fucking suck, and probably had somewhat of a better reputation back when tommy was interested in joining—or maybe they didn’t, to be fair, i don’t know! the point is, tommy went to them seeking some sort of better purpose, some type of redeption; in joel’s own fucking words, “tommy’s what we used to call a joiner. had dreams of becoming a hero... wants to save the world.”

tommy is idealistic. he’s romantic. he’s optimistic, almost to the point of being fucking naive. thats why he enlisted in the army, thats why he enlisted in the fireflies—he wanted to feel good about himself and the world he was living in. he needed it to have some light at the end of the tunnel for all the bullshit to make sense. and yeah, he was wrong both times in joining up. we know that, joel knew that while it was happening, and tommy knows that in retrospect, too. i think jackson is the first place he really found true, real purpose—not the kind that is propagandized to you and goes up in smoke, but the kind that is well and truly earned. that’s why he is so loyal to jackson and to maria—they finally gave him was he desperately spent his life searching for

and im just saying, from maria’s perspective, she’s someone who lives for purpose. she lives for jackson and for it’s people and for it’s future, and she has to maintain some sense of idealism in the face of all that fucking ugliness to be able to mentally live im and run a place like jackson, to believe that it’ll work. i think that idealism she has, she sees reflected in tommy’s desperation to be a better person who’s fighting for a better life. she sees that need for redemption and goodness in him, that need for things to be fucking worth it, and hears she hears it in his story. she gets to relate to him with this in a way she doesnt GET TO RELATE with joel YET (we STILL HAVE TIME PEOPLE. WE HOLDIN OUT STRONG FOR THE JOEL AND MARIA BEST FRIEND AGENDA)

but to continue, THEN maria spends YEARS with tommy, getting to know him, getting to know his guilt. just like tess with joel, she’s sees the worst and the best of him and gets to fall in love with all of it. so of course there’s gonna be a bit of a bias and a blindspot, towards him—just like any of are other characters have weak spots for the people THEY fucking love

so that’s i guess why i think tommy is “accepted” by her, i guess, and there’s honestly way more them and their romance that i could make a whole separate post about but i’ll leave it there for now. back to joel and why he’s “damned,” which i don’t think he is

again, from what maria knows, he made an active CHOICE to stay in the lifestyle of smuggling and murdering and QZ bullshit, even after tommy chose to leave—and idk what y’all imagine joel and tess to be doing in those many years on their own, but it’s not fuckin picking flowers, for me. they’re dangerous, dangerous people—more dangerous that fedra, and more dangerous than the fireflies, if we’re being fucking real about it. and we LOVE tess and joel for this, or at least i do

but jackson is not a place where people get by with smuggling or backstreet deals or threats. it’s not supposed to be that place. we all LOVE jackson in fics and hcs and aus because it’s literally a place where joel and ellie finally get to breathe and not worry about their safety/survival first. and you know who keeps jackson that way????? MARIA. AND HE BEING FUCKING PICKING ABOUT WHO JACKSON LETS THE FUCK INSIDE

so yall just expect her to by YIPPY SKIPPY when joel, THE JOEL THE SUPER SMUGGLER MURDER COWBOY, strolls into town????? WITHOUT TESS, WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE MORE PERSONABLE AND REASONABLE ONE???? what????? she’d be crazy not to at least try to be a little intimidating, to make it clear to joel that he will not get away with any of that qz bullshit here. she’d be naive not to, and maria is anything but naive

and i know most people don’t like her for that “a bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad” “not always, at least” line, but i actually think it really fits so well in establishing that she’s not afraid of joel, not afraid of challenging him or making him own up to things he’s done. it’s just so so cool to me, i just can’t hate her for that????? she’s establishing with him that she knows what tommy knows about his time in the QZ, and she’s letting him know if that joel shows up here in jackson, there will be fucking problems for him. which i think is a completely fair warning????

so let’s continue. let’s talk about The Scene, the one with her and ellie, the one with the “tommy was following joel” line. ONE thing i’d like to point out about this scene—MARIA IS THE ONE TO TELL ELLIE ABOUT SARAH, NOT JOEL. AND THAT IS A BIG BIG BIG REASON FOR WHY SHE WARNS ELLIE NOT TO TRUST JOEL COMPLETELY

we know what joel and ellie have gone through, at this point, but maria has barely any idea. she sees that ellie has this fierce protectiveness and lots of secrets when it comes to her and joel, which like—can we all be fucking objective here for a second. this can SO easily and SO reasonably be interpreted as something sketchy going on between joel and ellie that maria should be concerned about.

(slight tw about older men-younger woman relationships bc im gonna be personal for a sec, its quick) we don’t know maria’s past or what she has seen or been through, but personally as someone who has been in a situation where an older man has taken advantage of my naivety in the past, i am now extremely hyper vigilant when it comes to young girls around older men in my personal life today. ellie and joel’s situation and how it looks would raise MJAOR red flags for me personally, if i was in maria’s position. that’s just a personal perspective have that really affects the way i view this scene (end tw)

and so maria finds out that joel has kept the fact that HE HAD A WHOLE ASS DAUGHTER from ellie?????? WOULD THAT NOT BE SUS AT ALL TO YALL???? i mean we know why joel doesn’t tell ellie, as gameplayers and watchers of the show, but again. maria is operating on the info she has right in front of her, which is that joel has been omitting maybe the biggest fact of his life from this young girl who is willing to defend and trust him with her entire life, even after she finds out she’s being lied to. this is alarming

so at this point, she’s questioning joel’s intentions with ellie, and in my opinion, it’s not at all unreasonable for her to do so. she then continues to press, because the red flags are flying and she wants ellie to be crystal clear on the kind of man she’s traveling with (“there are CLEARLY things you don’t know about joel” — “so then you understand my concerns”)

AND THEN ELLIE. BLESSED SMART AMAZING ELLIE COMES IN WITH THE DEFENSE—“and tommy did it too, are you worried about him?”—which like, i love this line. i love this moment. i think because i go so hard for maria a lot of y’all think i’m blind to when ellie is making points, but i 100% cheered her on when i first watched this scene, like i’m sure y’all did—because it’s true! it’s fair! if maria is going to judge joel for those things, she needs to extend the same judgement to tommy

the thing is, it’s still fucking true that, as i said earlier, tommy left that life. both the smuggling, and the fireflies—he chose to stop, while joel didn’t—he was smuggling literally up until the day him and tess found ellie, so. there’s that. she continues to judge joel and not tommy because she knows for sure that tommy has changed. she doesn’t know joel enough yet to see that he has changed, too

so then, the dreaded line: “tommy was following joel.” let’s talk about it.

i don’t love this line either, tbh! i think it’s a weak defense on maria’s part, and a weak line on the tlou hbo writers part—probably my least favorite line of maria’s overall. but i do get why she says it, and i kind of think i get the purpose??? i think????

it reminds me a lot of joel’s line, earlier, about tommy being a “joiner,” and i think it’s funny that, as opposite as joel and maria like to think they both are to each other, the way they describe tommy is pretty much the same. tommy is a “joiner” to joel and a “follower” to maria, and in all respects they both love and hate him for it. idk where i’m going with that exactly, just something interesting to think about in terms of the joel and maria best friend agenda

but i also think this line get’s taken out of context a lot, because the full line is “tommy was following joel, the way you are now.” maria says this line to lead into her main point, the really fucking important line in this scene: “be careful who you put your faith in. the only ones who can betray us, are the one’s we trust.”

WHICH IS TRUE. IT IS THE POINT. AND WHEN JOEL LIES TO ELLIE, HIDES SOMETHING FROM HER YET AGAIN at the end of the season/game, IT BECOMES A THEMATIC CLIMAX POINT THAT CONNECTS BOTH OF THE GAMES

maria is not saying this to “damn” joel—and i personally don’t think she is “damning” joel in the way you imply here, as there’s definitely potential for them to develop a relationship in s2 once she has more information about the truth of how he thinks of ellie. i think she’s warning ellie not to trust joel, because she doesn’t trust joel, at the end of the fucking day—and that’s about it. she trusts tommy in a way that she can’t quite trust joel yet, and why would she, at this point? it would make no sense for her to

so y’all can blame her and hate her for her distrust all you guys want (btw not necessarily talking to you, anon, ive just gotten some very nasty asks about maria from others so im talking to them rn!!!!!!!), but i’m sorry—you can’t tell me that it doesn’t at least make sense. she’s MARIA. she’s MADE OF SENSE

#WHEW #DO MY THUMBS HURT #i cant even be bothered to tag this fr #maria miller #asked and answered #joel and maria best friend agenda #tommy miller #joel miller #tess servopoulos

57 notes · View notes

candycharmss · 5 months ago

Text

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷‧₊˚💕 ‧₊˚ I HAD THIS FEELING, AS I WAS FALLING ~ . . .

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷‧₊˚💕 ‧₊˚ THE SOUND 'CROSS THE BAY, WAS THE SOUND OF YOU CALLING ~ . . .

INFO UNDER THE CUT ~ !

Hey hi! My name is Dew!! I’m just a silly guy that’s just here to talk about my silly little f/os!! You know how it is!!! I know my account is empty (mainly bc i am so nervous to be entering this place again ahA...) but I promise you I’m gonna be pretty much active here, just like i was on my main! I figured maybe a side blog would be nicer, plus I can yap way more ehehe. 💕

Oh yea my main is @candycoffinss HE/she pronouns! ʚ♡ɞ Genderfluid ʚ♡ɞ Gay ʚ♡ɞ Adult

I will warn you though, this blog is VERY horror/gore themed, I love spooky stuff! So be cautious pls <3

Please no doubles D: … nothing personal I promise!!! It just kinda makes me feel not so great :( this might change we’ll see :L…

... Since I am an adult, so there might be the occasional suggestive post but I will be tagging it as #suggestive and #suggestive cw so I’d like to politely ask for minors to block it! Or anyone who’s uncomfortable, really. But I promise there won’t be a bunch! Maybe just funny memes. :P!

I have a bunch of f/os… like, a lot.. But my main focuses are these fellas!!

💫 Arthur D4venp0rt from 4rt 0f M0re! I like to say I'm his #1 bf because I'm sure almost nobody else has rlly heard of this show ehehe <33 I just started watching it and I decided he'd be a f/o of mine!!!! He's a cutie <33. The ship name is Chocolate Coins! He has a lot of money so i thought it'd make sense. :3 Aannnddd for tags... |♡|🎨 ~ YOUR SONG ! 🎨 ✎ . . . My sweetheart <3 💫 Sc0tt T1bbs from the S4w franchise! Admittedly I haven’t seen a bunch of love for him but I figured that I could provide that <3 besides, he’s such a cool guy :3 the ship name for him and my s/i or oc is Rockcandy and his tags are |♡|🎸 ~ KILLSHOT ! 🎸 ✎ . . . My rockstar <3 💫 St4nford P1nes from Gr4vity F4lls! Chat… Chat he is so kind… I’ve liked him for FOREVER and now I can be open about it!!! Yay!! The ship name is Dewford or Smarties! Can you tell I like candy themes? His tags are |♡|✋ ~ HE BLINDED ME WITH SCIENCE ! ✋ ✎ . . . My nerd <3

Sooo yeah! There’s some other ones, but they’re all on my carrd! Yippee!!!

What else do I put… um…

OH! Tags.. Tags!! Let's see here... AHA!

⚰️ ✎ . . . Dew's Coffin - Me talking! Just simply thinking of stuff :3

🦴 ✎ . . . Dew's Bones - Art tag!! Yay!!

🧠 ✎ . . . Dew's Brain - Thoughts!! Maybe F/O imagines!! We'll see!

🫀 ✎ . . . Dew's Heart - F/O gushing :33 ehehehehehhe

🦷 ✎ . . . Dew's Teeth - Fanart/gift tag! Of course I'm not forcing this but just in case it's needed ;P, I've somehow managed to get a bunch of fanart in general so ahA--

🪦 ✎ . . . Dew's Gravestone - Reblog game responses!

🩸 ✎ . . . Dew's Blood - Suggestive posts

👻 ✎ . . . Dew's Hauntings - Asks! Ur all my little ghosts :3

SINCE THE BOOK OF BILL HAS BECOME MORE POPULAR I FIGURED MAYBE I SHOULD SAY THIS:: DONT TALK AB IT IF YOU SHIP BILLFORD! nothing personal, I just get uncomfortable! You're still good to interact just please don't tag anything I post as billford please! <3 Proshippers don’t talk to me, you’re all stinky as hell smh >:L same with just general dni criteria. Don’t be a freak man, it’s not that hard :( Also DNI if you're like, a comshipper or if you're that kinda freak that likes abusive stuff like girlypop... no.... Also zoophiles, necrophiles, etc. I've had the displeasure of having followers of that so :/ never again, never again... youch... Also if you're anti-lgbtq, homophobic, transphobic, yadda yadda... Yeah no, not on my BLOG >:/

#⚰️ ✎ . . . Dew's Coffin #selfship intro #self ship promo #selfship community #self ship community #self shipping #self ship #self shipper #fictional other #f/o #selfshipper #selfship promo #selfship positivity #self ship blog

13 notes · View notes

emepe · 8 months ago

Text

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Chapter summary: The killer has the police fooled. Meanwhile, you and Eren enjoy more of each other’s company.

— Content warnings: slightly nsfw, dry humping, make out, mention of stalking, murder, mention of torture, mention of rape.

— Notes: Welcome to chapter 7 <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

lost signs

“Detective.”

A meek voice pulls Levi's attention from the paperwork scattered across his desk, as a fresh manila folder is promptly set down before him.

“The notes on the autopsy.”

Every other task is instantly abandoned as the raven-haired man grabs the folder and goes through the pages of the autopsy report, along with the notes provided by his subordinate.

Less than an hour later, Levi's knocking on the door of his captain's office, staying true to his habit of walking in before being invited.

“What do you have there?”

Erwin Smith barely spares a proper look at Levi as he continues scrolling through a file on his computer.

“Carly Stratmann's autopsy notes.”

Erwin simply nods, not showing much interest in the topic but not yet doing anything to shoo the stoic detective from his office.

“You're the lead detective on this case. Don't tell me you need me to hold your hand for this.”

Levi clicks his tongue at the remark, but straightens his posture to keep up his stern appearance.

“I think we need to raise a few alarms.”

Erwin shoots a menacing look in his direction, but purses his lips before he can spout another sharp remark.

Levi Ackerman hasn't been working the homicide department for long — just barely a couple of years after transferring from property crime, and just as many major cases under his belt.

His sudden need to raise alarms doesn't come as a surprise to Erwin. The man's got good instincts, albeit he's a bit too quick to act on them for Erwin's liking at times. And that's when he intervenes to rein him in.

On a day when he's so burnt out from work, the task is even more annoying to take on than usual.

“Is it the same M.O. as the Langnar case?”

“Not exactly, but—”

“I'll stop you right there, then,” Erwin firmly says, holding a hand up to make his point, hoping he can cut today's coolly disguised frenzy short.

Though calm and collected — practically icy — on the outside, detective Ackerman has been letting his personal convictions sway his thinking since the Langnar murder.

Erwin doesn't care to know much about his subordinates — it's just a job — but he knows Ackerman has a beloved niece of similar age to the recent murder victims living in the city, and it doesn't take much to deduce that's where his hidden worries stem from.

“There aren't many coincidences, it's true,” Levi states, resisting the urge to harshly spit the words at his superior. After all, a man who wants to be heard, has no need to raise his voice. “But even if these are isolated cases, it wouldn't hurt to… I don't know, set up a curfew… send out more units to patrol at night. Erwin, two women were murdered without a trace of DNA from the culprit.”

He sighs, then mutters the next few words under his breath.

“That's not a fucking coincidence.”

Erwin leans forward into his desk.

“Alright, Ackerman, I'll humor you for a minute.”

His hands clasp together, his chin resting on top as he formulates a question.

“Aside from the lack of DNA and the fact that they're women, is there anything in the autopsy reports that's enough to suspect we've got a serial killer in our hands?”

Levi tenses his jaw, tongue rolling against his cheek before sourly replying.

“No.”

Erwin's eyebrows rise as a sign of finality. But Levi stands his ground, taking his gesture as defiance.

“I get your point. Stratmann could have nothing to do with Langnar. Maybe it was someone they knew or maybe it's not. If that's the case, are two criminals better than one? Is that what we're hoping for?”

Erwin's stern gaze falters for a split second, but he recovers just as quickly.

“How do we discard a serial killer in the making? What if this person hasn't fixed themselves on their M.O.? We can get them early in their career if we make a move right n–”

“We can't make moves based on gut feelings.”

Erwin's statement makes Levi shrink back for the first time since walking into the office.

“Langnar was tortured. Her injuries were consistent with weeks of trauma. Choked, handcuffed, cut, beaten, sliced at the mouth post-mortem, and dismembered. A very tedious and meticulous process, wouldn't you say? She had to have spent weeks in captivity and that points to either a person who was close enough to lure her into their trap or a stalker who observed her before kidnapping her.” He gestures for Levi to hand him the file in his hands, snatching the folder and ripping it open once he's close enough. “Stratmann was sliced at the neck, choked beforehand, raped post-mortem. It's sloppy and clear to have been done on a whim.”

“She was left in a dumpster, too,” Levi reminds him. “Just like Langnar.”

Erwin presses his lips into a thin line, his thick eyebrows weighed down with severity.

“That's not enough to go off of. We can't cry ‘serial killer’ over one measly coincidence.”

Levi can feel himself wavering at Erwin's arguments.

“Can we at least impose a curfew?” he asks.

Erwin heavily sighs, enough for the movement to be caught on his now slumping shoulders.

“As I said, bring me solid proof of a connection and we'll talk.”

“Okay. Spill,” Mikasa orders as soon as she scurries out of the bathroom and plops down criss-crossed on the sofa.

It's Saturday night and you and Sasha are staying over at Mikasa's place for a girl's night.

The living room floor is littered with blankets, cushions and pillows, and the television is playing a random horror movie that has gone ignored since Sasha wondered out loud how Eren was doing a few minutes ago. She seemingly asked nobody in particular, but it was clear you were meant to respond with both girl's eyes set on you the moment the green-eyed man's name came up.

You figured the sleepover was a cover for an ambush. The girls formed a separate group chat for just the three of you, coincidentally the day after your first date with Eren and have been asking to get together for the past week.

You tug nervously at the sleeve of your pajama top, shying away from the expectant gaze that seeps through Mikasa's face mask.

You shrug.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Who made the first move?” Sasha asks, scooting closer to you as if that means she'll get more details.

You ponder for a moment. It's hard to tell. Eren was first to ask you out two months ago, but you were the first to kiss him last Saturday. In a way, you both had a chance to steer the wheel.

When you explain this to the girls, they swoon, falling into a fit of excited giggles.

“I never pegged you for the bold type,” Mikasa grins, lightly smacking your shoulder. “I bet Eren loved that.”

Sasha nods in agreement, giddy.

“I can't believe you didn't tell us right away,” Mikasa pouts.

“I don't think you would've remembered, Mika,” you say. “You had three Long Islands that night.”

“Still, it would've been nice to know,” she sighs dramatically.

“Okay, so you got together the night of the Halloween party,” Sasha reviews. “But what about the day we went to Sunrise? I totally thought you guys had a thing going on back then. I mean, Eren never left your side, even before you got hurt.”

The apple-picking trip seems like so long ago, but the memory remains fresh in your mind. You smile at the mental image of Eren's serious expression as he claimed to never have been so curious to know anyone before you.

“Oh my gosh,” Mikasa squeals, aggressively smacking Sasha’s back as she's reminded of something. “She was feeding him peanuts on the way there. They were so shy, it was adorable.”

Instinctively, your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment. It didn't even register until now that the people in the backseat witnessed the awkward exchange.

Now that you've tasted the lips that brushed against your fingertips that day, the reminder seems even more embarrassing.

You smack your cheeks lightly in an attempt to ground yourself. The girls watch you amusedly, exchanging knowing glances in between.

“Have you guys… you know.” Mikasa raises her eyebrows suggestively.

Warmth floods your cheeks again.

“Not yet,” you murmur. “We're taking things slow.”

She looks surprised, but nods in support.

“Of course,” she says. “Slow is good.”

“Says the girl who pounced on Jean after one of his gigs because she was jealous.”

“Hey!” Mikasa whines, growing shy at the accusation. “I had to get a message across. He was being petty.”

Sasha throws her head back in laughter.

“No, he was just stupid. He had no idea you liked him back until that night.”

Your gaze flickers between the two girls as you piece their conversation together.

A blushing Mikasa picks up a cushion and chucks it at Sasha’s face who easily avoids the blow and laughs at the raven-haired girl's pout.

“Whatever,” Mikasa groans. She turns to look at you, features instantly shifting into a more cheerful expression.

“So how do you feel?”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“About Eren.”

“It's only been a week,” you explain.

“So?” she shrugs. “You guys have been spending a lot of time together, haven't you? Armin told me Eren's been driving you to work everyday. That means you've had a lot of one-on-one time.”

Shyly, you lower your head, focusing your gaze on the black and white pattern of the comforter laid beneath you. Your fingers mindlessly trace over the texture of the fabric.

“I guess so.”

Both girls smile.

“So what's the verdict?” Sasha asks.

“I… I really like him,” you sigh, lips tugged into a smile. “Like… really really like him.”

Another round of excited squeals and giggles echoes through the room.

Their thrill only encourages you further, pushing you into a tangent of how thoughtful Eren is and how he always manages to hold you with so much care, bringing you peace each time he's close.

“He makes me feel safe. Is that weird to say?”

Mikasa shakes her head as she peels off the mask from her face, wrinkling the sheet into a ball and chucking it across the room to the trash can in one corner. She misses by an inch.

“Not at all. I don't mean to sound old-fashioned but you have to be with someone who makes you feel cared for.”

Sasha hums in agreement as she shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth. She holds a finger up, asking you to wait for her to gulp down the snack.

“And someone who makes you laugh, also very important.”

You nod along with Mikasa.

“Oh, and… well, when you get to it… someone you're sexually compatible with,” she adds. “People like to pretend it's not a big deal but it really is. Sex is okay but great sex with someone who knows how to touch you is where you find out if you're in sync. There needs to be communication and understanding and care. It's so fucking important.”

Mikasa looks down at her friend as she pats her head affectionately.

“You're so wise for someone who doesn't have a boyfriend.”

Sasha quirks an eyebrow.

“Hey, just because I'm not blurting it out to everybody doesn't mean I don't have anything going on.”

Mikasa hums contemplatively.

“Do tell.”

The conversation takes a turn to Sasha’s latest sexcapades, and you take turns with Mikasa to look surprised at the stories she shares.

By the end of the night, when you're all teetering the edge of sleep with a third movie serving as background noise, your mind drifts back to the emerald-eyed boy who makes you laugh so easily, draws every emotion from you, and cares for you like it's what he was put on this earth for.

Water pools at your feet out of thin air. You’re stuck in a dark void with no end, yet the water your eyes frantically search the source of keeps rising at a startling speed, soaking little by little into your clothes until it weighs you down.

Running seems futile. The void has no end and the water keeps steadily climbing up your body, so who knows how long you’ll have until you’re fully submerged — with no exit in view. Even if you could run, the weight of your drenched clothes would only pull you back. But you can’t even move anyway, you realize. You’re stuck in place, feet unable — or unwilling — to even take a couple of waddling steps.

The water is up to your hips now. With trembling hands, you reach down and scoop at the liquid. It’s thick and with a smell so rancid it stretches through the infinite length of the emptiness you stand in. The water’s filthy.

Your hands drop at your sides in an unsettling daze. The next second, your breath grows shallow and you start pulling at your feet as the water reaches your neck. Tears prick at your eyes as you cry at your feet, begging for them to move, to lift from the ground so you could at least make some weak attempt at reaching the surface for air.

Suddenly, a light. Pure white shines brightly from far ahead, where a golden silhouette stands at the threshold between darkness and light — the void’s borders. The other person bangs their fists at the invisible wall keeping you apart, yelling something you can’t make out. Are they yelling at you? No, they don’t even seem to notice your presence. So who are they yelling at? Up at the sky… They’re yelling something up at the sky. But what are they saying? Who does the golden silhouette even belong to?

Your left foot unsticks from the ground unprompted. A sharp breath is all you take before you make your first step toward the light, hand midair to call for the figure’s attention. Just then, an unknown body pulls you into them from behind, crashing your body down into the murky water, where your lungs fill with filth and your eyes flutter shut.

You wake with a small gasp coming through your lips. Still stiffened by the strange dream, your eyes are all that wander the unfamiliar room. The television is set to a screensaver, likely triggered by an extended lack of attention to whatever on-demand production was playing before you fell asleep. There’s a clutter of takeout containers on the coffee table and used glasses with remnants of soda that can safely be assumed to be flat by now.

Slowly, you stir on the velvet green sofa you’re lying on, when you take note of the firm hold around your waist, followed by the soft exhales released onto the crown of your head. You look down at the familiar watch wrapped around the wrist of the hand that holds you in place.

Oh, you think. That’s right. I’m at Eren’s place.

He’s been having trouble catching up on work, meaning he’s had to stay up late for the past couple of nights. He’s a stickler about getting a good night’s rest, so the temporary change in work shifts has thrown him off quite a bit. You told him to stay home and rest — that you could go to the movies another time; next Sunday was fine with you — but he insisted on seeing you, even if it meant a more casual hangout in his living room with Chinese food and a comedy-drama film from the 2000s playing on the TV.

At some point in the evening, the late hours caught up to him all at once and he even managed to get you to stay with him, wrapped in his arms as his sleepiness found its way to your body as well.

Craning your neck, you peer at Eren’s sleepy face from the corner of your eye. You smile. He’s got an innocent look about him even in his sleep. His lips are parted just enough to take and release soft breaths. You sink back into the couch, wiggling around to find the comfortable position you were previously in.

Eren feels you moving and his arm instantly pulls you closer to his body. His warmth transfers through every layer of clothing, enveloping you in a warm embrace. In his sleep, he mumbles a string of words you can’t quite comprehend under his breath, but the vibrations against your back coax you back into a peaceful slumber.

The next time you wake up, it's already getting dark out. The coffee table has been cleared of its mess, and the body lying behind you is no more. Forced by the absence of his arms around you, you trudge out of the living room to look for him as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

He's in the kitchen, back to you, filling a glass with cold water from the fridge.

Leaning against the threshold, you watch him adoringly, marveling at his toned figure from behind. He chugs his first glass of water down, refilling it as soon as he finishes. As he brings the glass to his lips once more, he turns around, eyebrows rising slightly when he takes in your presence.

“Boo,” you smile, standing straight and making your way over to him.

He abandons the glass of water as soon as you meet him, opting to use his hands to push you closer to him by the small of your back as yours rest on his shoulders.

“Did I wake you?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“Just felt lonely, all of a sudden.”

An amused air blows through his nose.

Your hands find a way to his hair, fingers carding through the strands as he keeps his gaze fixed on your face.

His hair has gotten longer, and the strands around his face now cover his forehead, tickling the skin. It’s not messy, by any means, but it gives him an edgier look. The duality of Eren Jaeger’s appearance is a wonder to you. He’s got a way of tipping the scales between cute and sexy with every little thing he does.

You smile at the few rebellious locks that poke out, still fixed in the angle provided by his nap.

“What?” he asks, mirroring your smile.

“Your hair’s getting long,” you murmur.

“I’ll get a haircut soon, don’t worry,” he replies, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, amused by the way you follow after him once he starts retreating from the contact. He kisses you once more to keep you from pouting.

“I didn’t say anything,” you chuckle. “If you want to grow out your hair, that’s fine. You don’t have to keep it short. I was just pointing it out.”

He shakes his head, humming in denial.

“Nah. This part’s starting to bug me. I just haven’t had time to get it cut,” he explains, brushing back the hair covering his forehead. He proceeds to squeeze your waist on either side. “But what do you prefer?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter with a shrug.

“Gun to your head, which looks better?” he smiles.

His extremist question earns him an eye roll but you answer him nonetheless after a beat.

“I like your short hair,” you finalize earnestly.

He grins, cupping your face with one hand as he places a kiss on your cheek — then on your jaw, and one in the crook of your neck.

“Yeah?” he murmurs against the sensitive skin.

You nod, a small smile dancing across your lips at his tender affections.

“You look very handsome with a clean undercut. The day I met you I actually thought you were really good-looking.”

He pulls away from his task on your neck to stare at you in disbelief.

“And yet you refused to go out with me. I can’t believe you.”

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.

You laugh. The sound swells him with pride — it lights up the room.

“Looks aren't everything, dummy. You're so shallow.”

It's your turn to feign disappointment while he stands there, amused.

“Right, right,” he nods. “I forgot you fell for me because I'm a strong and dependable man.”

He flexes his muscles, making a whole show out of his pointed remark.

You roll your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your face is hard to deny.

“Isn't that right?” he teases.

You don't humor him with an answer — there's no real need for it.

With his hands settled comfortably on your hips, he guides you backward, until your back is pressed against the counter, before he hoists you up and sets you onto it with ease. You welcome him between your thighs with a smile, breath hitching when he caresses your knee over your jeans and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“My baby,” he coos, pressing an open-mouthed kiss onto your skin.

You giggle at the teasing meaning behind the affectionate name, heart fluttering at the feeling of him smiling against your skin.

The both of you keep your positions for a while — him breathing in your perfume while you stroke his soft hair tenderly.

Being with Eren feels so easy. It's a wonder how comfortable you feel with barely a week tallied for your relationship. Each morning and evening when he drives you to and from work have definitely helped.

After your sobbing confession outside of your apartment, you apologized for making Eren feel as though he was troubling you by being so attentive.

All the accumulated trauma in your heart had ironically made you the perpetrator of making him believe there was no real place for him in your life even after you accepted his liking for you. He didn't ask any followup questions that night, but he understood and vowed to be patient.

You're still trying to be okay with that — his unmoving loyalty. But it's easier to accept when you remind yourself he wouldn't stick around if he didn't want to.

Looking down at the boy in your arms, you smile. He can be so childish at times — teasing you, insisting you hold him, easily shaken by a few late nights. And yet there was something so comforting in his behavior. He's always so happy to see you, making sure to clock in quality time hours — not that he didn't enjoy the daily drives, but it wasn't exactly a date. Not to mention his unwavering need to make sure you're safe. At least his rare stubbornness has good reason.

Reluctantly abandoning the comfort of your neck, he lifts his face to meet your eyes. His gaze bores into yours, engulfing you in warm pools of emerald.

A lazy grin takes over his features.

“I like that,” he murmurs.

Your eyebrows twitch in confusion.

“This,” he explains, bringing a hand to your head and mimicking the strokes you've weaved into his hair. “It feels nice.”

An airy chuckle escapes your lips and you make a point to stroke his hair more.

His face hovers over yours. His hands rest on either side of you as he leans into your affections. His eyes flutter closed as he sighs at your touch.

You look up at him mesmerized by his angelic features. It's true you've always thought he's handsome, but this closeness makes you appreciate every detail of his face even more. His long lashes, the faint freckles on his nose, the thick eyebrows that are softening with each feel of your fingers combing through his hair, the perfect plump lips that whisper your name.

It makes your heart pound against your ribs loudly, the sound echoing in your ears as your hands grow sweaty.

That's when you decide to pull him in for a kiss. His eyes flutter open for a split second of surprise before they close again, at peace and happy. Your hands lose themselves in his hair as his wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter by the small of your back.

The contact is painfully slow, with measured pecks in between deeper kisses. He melts into you, lips softly grazing yours, breath fanning across your mouth as he nips at your bottom lip with his teeth to later soothe the area with his tongue. His lips slot warmly between yours, dragging out at a snail's pace before coming back.

The tip of his tongue pokes between your lips, shy but determined to be granted the access you so easily provide. A soft moan bubbles up your throat as his tongue caresses yours with vehemence. It's unusually hot, but the foreign feeling of his tongue in your mouth is greatly appreciated, marked by the way you desperately try to pull him even closer, in hopes that he can swallow you whole.

The pit of your stomach flutters and stirs with the most pleasant tingle when one of his hands travels to the back of your neck and he pushes his hips against yours. Despite the layers keeping you apart, it's easy to tell he's grown hard from the sweet exchange. He's rock solid under his pants, the delicate moans that bounce off your tongue and onto his making him bigger with every passing second.

He knows you can feel it, but you don't seem to mind, your head too dizzy with the collective sensations being fed to your body — his warm tongue, his bulge brushing your most sensitive spot over your jeans, his left hand holding you in place by the back of your neck while the other firmly squeezes your waist as he's consumed by the passionate kiss.

You cling onto him, thighs drawing closer to keep him flush against you. His hips roll against yours, brushing so deliciously against the spot that's growing wet beneath your clothing that it sends a tickle up your insides.

He sucks on your tongue, the act drawing more lustful mewls from the back of your throat.

You're feverish, your face burning when your shirt happens to rise, exposing your midriff to his calloused fingers which were so careful not to touch any new skin before the incident.

There's a string of saliva that connects your mouths when you finally break your fervent makeout. His lips are swollen and glossy with your saliva, as you're sure yours are with his.

“Eren,” you weakly whine in between breaths.

“Hm?” he hums, as he parts from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

You shudder when he swirls his tongue against your sweet spot before gently kissing it.

You whine his name again, though your voice has a stronger shape to it this time.

He turns to face you, pecking your lips just once before easing his grip on your body.

“I know,” he murmurs. “Slow, I remember.”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

His nose brushes against yours as he tilts his head to press a calmer, cooler kiss onto your lips.

“I want to, by the way,” you admit bashfully, avoiding his blown pupils and opting to look at a blank point on his shirt. “Just… not yet.”

When your gaze flickers to his, he's looking down at you warmly.

“I understand,” he murmurs.

Your eyes flit toward the window, reminding you of how late it's getting.

“I should go, it's already dark out.”

Eren nods, pulling back from the counter until you both notice the tent in his pants. You tear your gaze from the area, searching for something of interest elsewhere.

He blushes, ready to express an apology for his body's reaction to your wanton moans and feverish kisses, but you hop off the counter and trail off to the living room to search for your jacket before he can, leaving him to softly laugh at your meek behavior as he makes his way to the bathroom.

When he comes looking for you in the living room a couple of minutes later, you're seated on the couch, waiting patiently for him.

You smile upon his return, no trace of embarrassment left on your features.

“Do you really have to go?” he asks.

Your expression softens but you nod.

“We have work tomorrow. And I know how you get if you don't get your beauty sleep,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes, but wears a playful smile nonetheless.

“No. I mean,” he takes a deep breath. “You could stay the night… if you want to.”

His voice grows timid with every word as he gauges your reaction to his offer. He doesn't want to be pushy, by any means, but he hopes you'll accept.

He watches you chew on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say.

“Unless, of course, that goes against the whole taking-things-slow agreement,” he awkwardly laughs. “But I just… figured you should know… I wouldn’t object to you spending the night. No funny business. Just… to sleep.”

A breath of relief pushes past his lips when a small smile finally grows over your previously troubled features.

“Maybe not tonight,” you say. “But I’ll think about it.”

His lips curl inwards to hide his smile before he holds his hand out to you so you can head out the door together.

Eren swings your linked hands as you travel down the hall from the elevator. It's a habit he's developed over the past few days after seeing you cry for the first time.

The image lingered with bitterness in his head the entire night. It still pops up every now and then, reminding him he has to do everything in his capability to keep it from happening again.

As you walk to your door, hands comically swinging more aggressively each time with Eren's playful attitude, he marvels at your laughing face, feeling at ease with everything concerning you.

He finally eases up on his swing when you reach your door, but your fingers remain laced with his until you absolutely have to part ways.

“Sorry I was so tired today,” he says, holding your hands up to compare the difference in size. He presses his palm against yours, eyes shimmering at the sight before he grabs your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. “I'll make it up to you next time.”

“I don't mind just hanging out,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “It's fun.”

He smiles as he watches you fish your keys out of your jacket pocket with your free hand. The click of the lock always comes before letting go, but it's fine because he still gets to see you tomorrow morning for the drive to your office.

You turn to him, leaving the keys dangling on the lock as you drape your arms around his neck.

“By the way,” you murmur, pressing yourself further into his chest when his arms wrap around your waist. “You can spend the night at my place, too, if you want.”

His features twitch and his eyes light up with interest at the offer.

“No funny business,” you add, before pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Just to sleep.”

He laughs.

“Of course. What kind of guy do you take me for?”

You smile, affectionately brushing your nose against his with your eyes closed.

“Just thought I'd let you know.”

“I’ll think about it,” he murmurs mockingly, echoing your response from earlier.

You look up at him quizzically.

“Do I sense some competition over whose apartment we stay at first?” you accuse.

“I’ll get on my knees if you want,” he quips without missing a beat, not bothering to be cool about the topic.

You giggle.

“Perfect. I love pathetic men.”

He stifles a laugh, eyes twinkling in amusement as a reflection of yours. Then he turns on a comically serious expression.

“Baby, I’m as pathetic as they come,” he firmly states, which makes you laugh even more.

“You're such a dork,” you giggle.

He hugs you tightly, playfully rocking your connected bodies in the middle of the hallway as he peppers your face with kisses, relishing in your amused squeals.

The giddiness in your expression remains even after you're both standing still and he's no longer attacking you with kisses.

“Thank you for making time for me,” you smile. “I mean, you already do so much with driving me to work and everything. If you’re ever not in the mood, you can—”

He cuts you off with a chaste kiss to your lips.

“It’s my pleasure.”

You bite back a grin and nod.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs before letting go and beginning his journey out with backwards steps.

“Bye, Eren,” you smile.

Before he can turn on his heel, you catch up to him, instantly making him drop his confused expression for a much softer one when you press your lips against his in one last kiss goodbye. When you pull back, he's got a goofy grin on his face as he waits for you to explain yourself.

You smile shyly.

“For the road.”

November 4, 2024

I found out where my angel lives. It's not too bad a place, but I'm sure she'll like the room I'm fixing for her better. I'm working on a way to get some of her favorite things over to my place. Hopefully she won't miss them too much before I can reunite her with them.

I'm so relieved. It was worth keeping an eye on her for the last few days. The only downside to come out of this is that I have to see that jerk's stupid face everywhere. He just can't leave her alone for a damn second.

It pisses me off to see him touch her like it's nothing. That should be ME kissing her and making her laugh. Not him. He shouldn't be allowed to touch her. Still, she looks so happy each time. But I can't be mad at her. I could never be mad at my angel. She'll realize soon enough that I'm the one meant for her. I just have to suck it up in the meantime. It's bad enough that I have to keep my distance for now but do I have to see her smiling at the wrong guy, too? I can't take it.

She's gotten prettier. It seems impossible but it's true. I could look at her for days on end — and I have the past week as proof. Her smile is brighter and she's practically glowing. It only makes the wait even harder but I still have so much to get done for her arrival. I can't wait to see the look on her face when I finally bring her home with me so we can be happy together.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Chapter guide | Masterlist | Navigation

taglist: @erenjaegerwifee @youatemylollipop @okaystopwhore @bakuhoethotski

#eren yeager x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger fluff #eren yeager smut #eren yeager fanfiction #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #snk smut #snk x reader

88 notes · View notes