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kalyria1674-blog · 1 year

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La symbolique de la Chouette et l'Assaillant :

Alors... je viens de relire (de nouveau), le chapitre 88 de SnK et plusieurs interrogations me viennent en tête. Je voulais tout mettre dans le même post mais, comme d'habitude, je me suis laisser emporter et ça donne quelque chose de très long. Peut-être même le plus long que j'ai jamais écrit, d'ailleurs. Oups ?

Donc, l'interrogation que je traiterais ici sera : pourquoi le pseudonyme de la Chouette était-il celui d'Eren Kruger ?

Dit comme ça, je suis d'accord que ça peut paraître bizarre mais il m'est venu à l'esprit que ce choix en particulier était vraiment intéressant, surtout pour un détenteur du titan Assaillant, et ce, pour plusieurs raisons :

La chouette est un oiseau qui, dans SnK, semble représenter la liberté de part sa capacité à aller où elle le désire, sans contrainte aucune. Mais, selon une autre interprétation qui, selon moi, peut très bien aller de pair avec la première, l'oiseau pourrait aussi symboliser la connaissance car plus les personnages en savent et plus ils peuvent prendre des décisions éclairées sur la portée de leurs actes. Dans un monde où ils sont condamnés à souffrir quoiqu'ils fassent, c'est peut-être le meilleur qu'on peut leur souhaiter.

Une autre chose est que la chouette est un animal nocturne, qui attaque de nuit en profitant du couvert de l'ombre et dont la technique de chasse consiste à s'approcher silencieusement de sa proie inconsciente jusqu'à ce qu'il soit trop tard. Ce qui, à mon sens, se rapporte très bien à l'Assaillant, pas seulement au prédécesseur des deux Jaeger.

Kruger était un espion dans le gouvernement qui, sans se faire identifier, a réussit à participer à la mise en place d'un réseau révolutionnaire juste sous le nez de ses ennemis.

Grisha est parvenu a identifier la famille royale sans attirer leurs soupçons même une seule fois (des années après et, sans doute, une enquête approfondie menée sur le sujet, Rod Reiss dira encore à Eren ''tout ignorer de son père'' ce qui veut dire quelque chose !) et a voler le pouvoir de l'Originel en les approchant au moment où ils étaient le plus vulnérables, l'attention étant accaparé par la chute du mur.

Eren s'est infiltré sur le continent Mahr durant des mois tout en complotant la chute de tous ses ennemis dans l'ombre avec succès, mis en place une cellule dissidente à son propre gouvernement dont personne ne s'est douter jusqu'à ce qu'il soit trop tard et est celui qui a dit que ''l'ignorance était le plus grand ennemi de la liberté''. D'ailleurs, son père avait un crédo semblable au sujet de l'esprit humain ne pouvant être retenu par de simples paroles si je me souviens bien.

Aussi, je ne sais pas pour vous mais j'aime beaucoup l'idée de la chouette pour deux autres raisons :

Il s'agît d'un oiseau prédateur qui n'est donc pas du genre à se laisser traquer sans réagir, ce qui correspond tellement bien à Eren Jaeger que ça me fait sourire rien qu'à y penser.

La symbolique de la chouette, dans la culture européenne est souvent rapporter à la mythologie grecque ou greco-romaine qui est très populaire. Et, ici, la chouette est le symbole d'Athéna, déesse grecque de la connaissance, de la sagesse et de la guerre dans le sens stratégique de celle-ci (Arès en représentant l'aspect combatif et la violence l'accompagnant) de par sa ruse. Alors, je me suis intéressée à ce que je pouvais trouver et, parmi les différentes symboliques rattachés à cette déité, j'ai trouver des choses... troublantes.

Ainsi, outre les caractéristiques précédemment décrites, en me concentrant sur les autres symboles, je me suis rendu compte que l'on comptait parmi ces symboles :

Niké la déesse de la victoire et alliée d'Athéna, soeur des déités de la Force et de l'Ardeur.

L'olivier qui représente, entre autre, la force, la victoire et la sagesse, renforçant ce qui est déjà apporté par le symbole d'Athéna et de la chouette.

Le serpent qui est associé au monde des morts et au savoir, soit divin, soit inquiétant, toujours mystérieux et qui serait capable de révéler l'avenir et le passé.

Mais également, une phrase du philosophe allemand (tiens donc !) du nom de Georg Wilhelm Friederich Hegel est que : ''La chouette de Minerve prend son envol au crépuscule''. Ce qui signifierait quelque chose en rapport avec le retard prit par la conscience humaine sur les évènements mais aussi la façon dont les humains ne prennent conscience de leurs erreurs qu'une fois qu'il est trop tard.

Et, c'est peut-être sans rapport, mais dans le contexte SnK, ça me rappelle les mots d'Eren avant de se transformer face à Annie. Quand il dit qu'il n'a pas le temps de se demander ce qui est juste ou ne l'est pas et qu'il doit agir. Ici, il fait alors passer l'action avant ses propres réflexions et, involontaire ou pas, je trouve que c'est un bel écho à cette phrase. On pourrait aussi parer du fait que, dans SnK, les Assaillants (ainsi que plein d'autres personnages) ne prennent conscience/admettent de leurs erreurs qu'au crépuscule (ou ce qu'il pense l'être, souvent à raison) de leur vie.

Kruger avec les restaurateurs et la torture qu'il a infligé à ses victimes.

Grisha et ses erreurs avec Siëg puis, plus tard, avec les Reiss.

Eren avec le Grand Terrassement/Rumbling.

Sans parler du fait que la passation de pouvoir d'Eren Kruger (qui portait ce pseudonyme) à Grisha a eu lieu au crépuscule, que ce dernier l'a donner à son fils peu après le coucher du soleil et que, à en croire certains artwork (je ne sais pas s'ils sont officiels par contre), le manga voit son arc final atteindre sa résolution au crépuscule.

Wow, j'ai réussi à ne pas spoiler et ce n'était pas facile.

Bref. Je trouvais juste intéressant de faire remarquer que si plusieurs personnages pourraient s'identifier à la phrase d'Hegel, les Assaillants sont les seuls auxquels je peux actuellement penser qui correspondent aussi bien à la partie philosophique que littéral.

Aussi, en parlant de cette scène de passation et de la conversation qui l'a précédée, plus haut, je parlais des mythologies grecque et romaine mais saviez-vous qu'au Japon, selon son espèce, la Chouette est considéré à la fois comme une ''démone'' ou une ''messagère des dieux'' ? Et n'y a t-il pas une interrogation semblable au sujet d'une certaine personne précisément dans ce chapitre ?

Comme plusieurs de ces mots sont polysémiques, j'y ait ajouter le sens dans lequel ils doivent être prit (courtoisie du Centre National des Ressources Textuelles et Lexicales pour la plupart) pour en favoriser la compréhension. Et non, je ne fais pas ça car je pense que vous ne comprendriez pas sans mais juste par prudence sachant que certains (guerre, discrétion, liberté... etc.) ont plus d'une dizaine de sens différents selon le contexte d'usage.

Force : Ensemble des ressources physiques, morales ou intellectuelles qui permettent à une personne de s'imposer ou de réagir.

-> Dans le manga, il est souvent mis en valeur que chaque individu possède ses propres forces et faiblesses.

Ardeur : Vivacité ou vigueur que l'on apporte à faire quelque chose. / Désir violent de quelque chose. / Passion.

-> Ce genre de chose ne se rapporte t-il pas tout à fait à l'Assaillant ? Eren Jaeger est le premier qui me vient en tête, bien sûr, mais même Grisha et Kruger, s'ils n'ont pas toujours céder à la passion, ont été en proie à des désirs violent d'obtenir quelque chose, qu'il s'agisse de la liberté et de la vengeance.

Ruse : Procédé dont on use à la guerre pour tromper l'ennemi sur ses intentions. / Habileté à feindre pour arriver à ses fins; art de tromper.

-> Ici, Eren Kruger et Grisha Jaeger en sont de très bon exemples de part leurs contributions respectives (fuite d'informations, vol de l'Originel) à la cause pour laquelle ils ont choisis de se battre.

Guerre Stratégique : Ensemble d'actions coordonnées, d'opérations habiles, de manœuvres en vue d'atteindre un but précis. / Partie de la science militaire qui traite de la coordination des forces armées (en intégrant les aspects politiques, logistiques et économiques) dans la conduite d'une guerre ou dans l'organisation de la défense d'une nation, d'une coalition.

-> Cela peut se rapporter, à la fois au fait que ce sont les actions coordonnées des trois Assaillant connus (et sans doute plusieurs de leurs prédécesseurs) qui ont permit la victoire d'Eren mais également la façon dont celui-ci a pu mener a bien le Grand Terrassement grâce à l'aide de sa propre faction, celle de Siëg mais aussi les actions de ses opposants et ennemis ans le but de défendre sa nation / les personnes qui lui sont précieuses.

Prédation : Synonyme de ''chasse'' qui est l'action de poursuivre, de chercher à atteindre pour s'emparer. Recherche ardente, tenace d'un objet, concret ou abstrait.

-> Juste... entre l'obsession de la liberté des Assaillants, l'action de chercher à s'emparer de quelque chose (ici le pouvoir de l'Originel) à tout prix et le nom ''Jaeger'', ai-je vraiment besoin de le détailler davantage ?

Connaissances : Avoir atteint l'âge où l'on est apte à discerner la valeur de ses actions petites ou grandes.

-> Une autre chose qui fait, selon moi, le charme de SnK, c'est qu'outre le renversement brutal de nos perspectives que nous inflige (oui, ce mot-là car c'est toujours douloureux, voir déchirant, pour les lecteurs) le manga, SnK est aussi une histoire sur la façon dont la capacité à gagner en maturité et en connaissance élargit notre vision, non seulement sur nous-mêmes mais aussi le monde qui nous entoure... et les conséquences de nos actes qui vont avec.

Au-delà : Ce qui fait suite à la vie terrestre, le monde où l'on situe la vie future.

-> Bon, là-dessus, je n'étais pas trop certaine mais vous savez quoi ? Je le met quand même car, quand j'ai vu cette symbolique associé au fait de se passer de la chaleur de la vie, j'ai immédiatement penser aux Chemins qui sont l'au-delà eldien littéral ! Ou, au minimum, celui des shifter, incluant les Assaillant.

Temporalité : Pouvoir temporel. / Caractère de ce qui est dans le temps, de ce qui appartient au temps et de ce qui s'y déroule.

-> Après le chapitre 121 ou l'épisode... 4, je crois, de la saison 4 partie 2 (qui était d'ailleurs splendide !), ai-je vraiment besoin d'expliciter ?

Discrétion : Caractère de ce qui est accompli de manière à passer inaperçu, à rester secret; fait de passer inaperçu, de rester secret. / Qualité consistant à garder les secrets.

-> Un rapport intéressant aux missions d'espionnages respectives de Kruger et Grisha ainsi que de la capacité d'Eren a dissimuler le pouvoir de l'Assaillant jusqu'au moment opportun sans aucun soupçon (de la part des autres personnages).

Interprétation : Attribution d'une signification déformée ou erronée à un fait réel, à un événement, à un comportement.

-> Ici, ce qui est mit en valeur est à la fois la façon dont la situation de Paradis est posé selon à qui l'ont demande (soldats ou guerriers), la façon dont Mahr est vue par le reste du monde (héros triomphateur des démons ou colonisateurs agressifs), les différents points de vue sur Eren lui-même (sauveur et libérateur ou démon meurtrier) ainsi que sur Ymir la Première (déesse ou démone, esclave ou personne).

Contradiction : Relation existant entre deux notions dont l'une nie l'affirmation de l'autre.

-> C'est à peu près la même chose que ce que je dis plus haut avec, cette fois-ci, l'introduction de la nuance voulant que ces interprétations sont non seulement divergentes mais aussi opposées et irréconciliables. De la même façon que les protagonistes ne peuvent pas être soldat et guerrier ou déesse et démone autrement que dans les regards d'autrui.

Liberté : Droit pour tout individu de faire ses choix. / Possibilité d'agir, de penser par soi-même; refus de toute sujétion aux choses, de toute pression d'autrui. / État de celui qui se détermine après réflexion, en connaissance de cause, d'après des motifs qu'il accepte; état de celui qui contrôle ses passions et qui réalise dans ses actes, le bien, la raison, la vérité considérés comme l'expression de sa nature profonde.

-> Vu la façon dont nous avons eu ce mot à toute les sauces et la façon dont il est dit que l'Assaillant est celui qui se bat pour la liberté (ironique quand on sait qu'Isayama a déclaré ne pas savoir ce dont il s'agissait exactement), je ne pense pas que j'ai besoin de préciser davantage en quoi il se relie aux Assaillant. Cependant, pour les courageux qui ont lu jusqu'ici, je serais curieuse de connaître leur interprétation de ce mot.

Personnellement, je pense qu'il s'agit de la capacité à faire ses propres choix, en toutes connaissances de causes et conséquences tout en ayant sa propre définition de ce qu'est la liberté personnelle car personne n'en aura une définition identique. Qu'il s'agisse de venger les personnes qu'on aime, de pouvoir vivre la tête haute sans être constamment rabaissé, de ne pas être obligé à commettre des actes que nous ne désirons pas, d'aller où on le désire sans contrainte et partout dans le monde... chacun peut définir par lui-même ce qu'il considère comme la liberté et si celle qu'il possède actuellement lui suffit.

Vous pourriez penser que ce sont des coïncidences et, peut-être auriez-vous raison. Pour ma part, je trouve que ça fait beaucoup de hasard autour d'un seul sujet, surtout quand on sait qu'Isayama s'est spécifiquement inspiré des culture romaines et scandinaves pour créer les Marleyens et les Eldiens.

#Shingeki no Kyôjin #attack on titan #attack titan #Titan Assaillant #Symbolique #Chouette #Eren Kruger #Grisha Jaeger #Eren Jaeger #Je ne suis pas certaine mais puis-je appeler ça une méta sans abus de langage ?#Mon dieu ce texte était long et casse-couille à rédiger mais depuis le temps que j'y pensais !

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ackermanbloodline · 8 months

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ackermanbloodline masterlist

Here is a compilation of all my work in one place. I write for Levi Ackerman of Attack on Titan and pair it with a female reader. This will be updated as I publish new pieces.

Ground Rules

My work is intended for adult audiences only. Minors are not to interact with my content in any way, shape, or form.

I am not interested in my work being translated into other languages by a third party.

My work is not to be reposted, copied, or replicated in any form for any reason on any platform except for Tumblr reblogs.

Asterisk Guide

* = Fluffy content * = Sexual content * = Angst * = Violent content

Series

Paperwork Summary: As captain, part of your responsibilities is ensuring that the tedious amount of paperwork following every mission gets done. But when your team goes out on an expedition and all get slaughtered, you find yourself absolutely drowning in it. A giant pile of papers at your desk is now under a strict deadline by Commander Erwin for the next morning. How will you get it done in time? Word Count: 24k

Part I

Part II *

Part III **

Part IV **

Letting Go Summary: You and the gang go out clubbing to have some fun after a long day. To your surprise, Captain Levi shows up. Word Count: 9k

Part I

Part II *

The Breaking Point Summary: You reach your breaking point with your relationship with Levi. Word Count: 11.5k

Part I *

Part II *

Part III **

One Shots

"First one to cum loses." * Summary: Levi sets you up for a challenge. Word Count: 2.3k

In Sickness & In Health * Summary: Levi is bedridden and sick. He insists he's fine and prioritizes your health over his, but he eventually caves and lets you take care of him. Word Count: 1.2k

The Most Unusual Day * Summary: Levi brings your daughter to base for the day. Word Count: 3.2k

Breathe Me ** Summary: You and your boyfriend, Levi, who never smokes, smoke together. Word Count: 4k

"It wasn't from you." * Summary: You try to relax after the Assault on Stohess. But the night has other plans for you as an assailant attacks you. And the last person you ever expected defends your honor. TRIGGER WARNING: ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT Word Count: 3.8k

The Lethality of Silence ** Summary: Levi comes home from a mission unable to speak or function. You take care of him in more ways than one. Word Count: 2.7k

Middle of the Night ** Summary: You and Levi have been going through a dry patch in your relationship. You reckon to fix that. Word Count: 4k

The Autumnal Equinox ** Summary: Queen Historia has taken the throne and there's a ceremony to attend in celebration of the remaining Scouts' honor, on the day of the Autumnal Equinox. Since Levi isn't exactly in the most cheery mood, you propose a lustful deal. Word Count: 3.2k

Take Me ** Summary: You allow Levi to take your virginity. Word Count: 5k

"I think you made a mess." ** Summary: Levi makes you squirt. Word Count: 1.5k

The Cure For Insomnia ** Summary: You take Levi's virginity. Word Count: 4k

The Best-Kept Secrets * Summary: "Kissing to hide from bad guys" trope. Word Count: 1.5k

Covetous Eyes * Summary: Captain Levi is jealous that you're spending time with a higher-ranking member of the Survey Corps. Word Count: 6.7k

Through the Threads of Time * Summary: You and Levi run into each other after decades of not seeing each other. Word Count: 3.2k

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plutoccult · 7 months

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OUT OF THE WOODS

pairing: levi ackerman x gender neutral reader

description: you were notorious for following levi’s every order without hesitation. it was practically unbearable for him, but the one time you disobey him is when he is eternally grateful.

word count: 2.8k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: this is something i’ve never done before aka write for levi! i’m hoping i haven’t strayed too far from his character, but it’s worth trying something new. i must admit, this is a little messy and i’m quite iffy about it, but i at least tried my best. i almost named this “the monsters turned out to be just trees” because i 1. love taylor swift and 2. thought those lyrics captured this almost perfectly, but i decided it was too long and just went with the song title those lyrics are from. this is something entirely new and never before posted anywhere else, but it will also be shared on ao3 as everyone has their preferences on where they like to read. as always, i hope you enjoy <3

you always obeyed levi’s every order, and god, he hated it.

“yes, captain.” you’d say. “right away, captain.” was another one of your go-to phrases. you could just… talk to him? like a normal human being? yes, he was your captain, but levi craved a normal conversation with you.

oh, wait. why did he want that so badly? why did he want to hear your voice say things other than replying to his commands for you and the squad? it’s not like he liked you. no, no! he couldn’t stand you. that’s what this was. right?

levi was particularly known for only listening to commander erwin’s orders and no one else’s, but he didn’t see himself of such importance. it wouldn’t kill you to protest a little bit for once. he even tested your obedience by demanding you glue a broken vase back together. you then proceeded to spend hours restoring it to its former glory. he was surely impressed, but at the same time, he couldn’t believe you actually did it. dare stubborn ol’ levi ever admit it, but he found it kind of cute.

when it came down to the 57th exterior scouting mission, your final order was simple; retreat back to your horses. things didn’t exactly go as hoped, and while the scouts learned something new that day, there was still so much work to do. you wished for everyone’s sake that one day you all could share a proper victory, but it didn’t seem possible just yet with something as stubborn as the female titan.

you and the rest of levi’s squad did as told, but it all went by the wayside when gunther was attacked out of the blue by a figure hidden under the disguise of your scout gear, their green hood concealing their face. there was no time to go along with the plan, now was time to fight back. the squad couldn’t let whoever killed their comrade get away.

as you all attempted to attack, the disguised assailant transformed in front of your very eyes into the female titan you all failed to successfully capture before. now this truly meant war, but the squad was simply no match for this monster.

it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. you lost your squad members one after another. you were the last one remaining, you knew this was it. this was your time to die, wasn’t it? part of you always thought it would end in the middle of battle, but not like this. this couldn’t be the end. you didn’t want it to be.

your brain struggled to catch up with everything happening so fast and hitting you all at once. it was impossible to think straight, to get your head together and fight properly. but it was also impossible to realize eren was turning into his titan form until it was too late. the impact of his transformation knocked you straight into a tree, leaving you unconscious as he avenged your fallen squad members, all while your captain had yet to head to the scene of the crime.

levi immediately knew something was wrong the second he saw the sudden glow of eren’s transformation from afar. of course there was something more to this mission. he had to get there quick before it could possibly get any worse, but his idea of “any worse” had already become true; his squad was gone.

he couldn’t do anything to stop eren just yet, levi knew that. this fight between two titan shifters was to be expected. if only the hothead wasn’t so blinded by rage. levi knew better than to let emotions get to the best of him, no matter how much it hurt seeing his squad like this, dying under his wing.

his eyes scanned the states of everyone. gunther, eld, petra, oluo, and then… you. you, who laid there motionless. the life taken out of you, or so levi thought. he couldn’t let this affect him. levi kept all emotions hidden, tucked and buried in deep where no one could find them, no one except the one person who was capable of bringing them out.

“captain…”

huh?! was his mind playing tricks on him? who dared to deceive his ears? it couldn’t be real. it was nothing. nothing at all. you were dead, levi was sure of it, just like the rest of the squad. he was left alone once again, seemingly cursed with this fate from the day he was born.

but then you let out a cough, blood coming out of your mouth and splattering onto the grass. my god, it wasn’t some sick joke from his brain. you miraculously were alive, and levi was too stubborn to let you die out.

he immediately rushed over to you and flipped you off your side so you laid on your back. you breathed heavily and coughed violently, muttering out weak apologies as blood stained your hands, but levi didn’t care. he’d stain himself over and over for your sake.

“you disobeyed orders.” levi said, trying his best to force himself to stay his usual coldhearted self, but it was a losing battle, just like today’s mission. he placed a hand on your cheek, his eyes once filled with anger now becoming soft. “you disobeyed me.”

you could’ve sworn the sight in front of you was like seeing heaven. the impact from earlier made your memories quite hazy, and while you knew you weren’t dead, you sure wouldn’t hate it if this was it. levi’s head blocking the sun made him look like an angel sent from the very land itself, and it was pure bliss.

you closed your eyes with a smile on your face, unbeknownst to you what had truly occurred. to your captain, it seemed like you had left him for good this time, but when he pressed his ear against your chest, he felt the rhythm of your heart as if it were a symphony.

levi couldn’t stand to leave you like this. he had to make sure you got to safety and were treated right away. even if it took you god knows how long to recover, it didn’t matter. but with the female titan trying to take eren alive, he had to remember why he was here in the first place and attempt to clean up the mess the scouts created. you were able to hold out for a little while longer by some sort of miracle, and when levi was able to capture eren back with the help of mikasa, he took you back to where you belonged; with him and the scouts.

by the time you returned to base, you were fast asleep, worn out from the mission. as there wasn’t enough room for all those who were injured, levi took matters into his own hands and tended to your wounds himself, even giving you his bed as he had a much bigger room and it wasn’t like he slept that much anyway. it seemed almost wrong and unprofessional to do so, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help but be a little selfish. it’s what a good captain would do anyway, right?

after what felt like ages, you finally woke up, your mind struggling to remember everything from yesterday. you grew confused as you found yourself in what wasn’t your room, and it became even more puzzling as you saw your captain sitting in a chair next to the bed waiting for you to wake up.

the look of impatience and worry was all you could read from his face and body language. his arms crossed, index finger tapping repeatedly like a drum on his bicep. he was looking away from you, watching the wind blow on the trees outside. levi had been using that view to pass the time and keep himself calm, but it didn’t really help much. only the sound of your voice was medicine to him.

“captain?”

levi lightly jumped in his seat and turned to see your face. you had been bandaged up, not a single wound left dirty. you were also quite bruised, and you immediately winced when you tried to adjust the way you sat. you couldn’t help but wonder what happened to you. if only you hadn’t hit your head so bad.

“you’re awake.” he said plainly. he didn’t want to show too much enthusiasm and freak you out, but on the inside, levi was so glad to see you were okay. the look of confusion on your face made him worry, and he felt the need to overshare and explain what was going on. “uh, this is my room. i took care of you since there wasn’t enough help.”

“oh?” you furrow your eyebrows. “what… what happened?”

“i think i could ask you the same thing, y/n.” levi replied. he had been waiting all this time to hear the truth of what happened. you saw what had happened to your fellow squad members, but with the way you lost consciousness, you had a hard time remembering it all. you could only draw blanks, and you felt as if you disappointed your captain.

“i’m… not sure. i don’t remember. i’m sorry.” you frown.

“i figured.” he sighed. he couldn’t get too mad, but part of him longed for an explanation so he could know where everything went wrong.

“where is everyone? surely petra must have helped you with this, right?” you ask, the question paining levi without you knowing a thing. “you couldn’t have done all of this by yourself.”

levi found himself unable to think about how to go with this. he wanted to let you down easy, lessen the blow, but with that look of innocence in your eyes, you just made it so damn hard for him. “y/n, they’re all gone.”

“gone?”

“gone.” he hated having it come out so harsh, but he had to get the point across without any sugarcoating. levi couldn’t lie, it would be an incredible disservice to you.

“no…” then you began to recall all that happened yesterday; the forest, that god damn female titan, it all replayed in your mind like a never ending horror movie. “no, this is all just one big nightmare. you can pinch me now, okay?”

your delusions only made it worse for levi. he couldn’t let you fool yourself thinking there was the slightest chance they weren’t gone, but he saw, he knew. all the life had been taken out of them, and whoever was behind the monster did it so cold-heartedly. it made him seem a little more humane in the eyes of his peers, as shocking as that was.

“i found all of you scattered on the ground. i thought you died just like they did.” levi said, those last few words coming out strained as he struggled to keep it together. he couldn’t let you see him like this, no way. he had to find an excuse to leave you be so he could go somewhere and let it all out without anyone seeing him.

“this can’t be, oh god.” you sob uncontrollably, making levi uncomfortable. he felt this way because it only made him want to cry with you, but at the same time, it felt wrong to feel like that.

“i can give you space to process this.” he began to stand up, but you tug on his sleeve to stop him, much to levi’s surprise.

“no, no, no. stay.” you giving him orders? he couldn’t believe it, but he would let you stop him, just for a moment.

“it is typically me who gives orders, you know.” levi spoke deliberately.

“well.” you pause, trying to find the right words. “i order you to stay.”

and just like you always did with him, he couldn’t help but obey your order. you let go of levi’s sleeve as he sat back down in his chair, too flustered to look you in the eye.

“i just… i wanna say i’m sorry i failed the squad, but most importantly, i’m sorry i failed you.” you say, your words full of utter shame, feeling like a complete failure. it was like you had just harshly tugged at levi’s heartstrings, despite it being crazy to think that levi ackerman did in fact have a heart.

“there was nothing you could do. the female titan outsmarted all of us.” he replied in that typical monotone voice. it almost started to irritate you. you were trying to have some sort of heartfelt conversation and it seemed like he couldn’t take you seriously. levi wanted to take all of it seriously, but he continuously battled with his mind and heart, and his mind kept winning.

“but it shouldn’t have happened.” you try to protest.

“we can’t turn back time, y/n.” levi argued back.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, a huge shock on levi’s end. “god, your words are terrible.”

“excuse me?”

“don’t you know it’s okay to feel things, captain?” you ask him. “i know they call you “humanity’s strongest soldier,” but is being emotionless a requirement?”

he’s unable to form words. where had this fire in you come from? had it been hiding this whole time? where had this disobedient soul been during the entirety of levi’s reign? he couldn’t help but be shocked yet amazed at the same time.

“that squad was like family to me.” you say with tears streaming down your face. “i thought you would’ve felt the same way, but i guess that suspicion i desperately tried to push away was right.”

“…and that is?”

“that you never liked any of us, not one bit, especially…” your lips tremble, but you force yourself to finish your sentence. “especially me.”

when you said those last two words, levi almost gasped. it made him feel so… terrible. so goddamn terrible he knew he couldn’t let his mind win anymore. it was time he chose his heart for once. “that’s nowhere near how i feel, y/n.”

“and how is it that you feel, captain?” you question, refusing to let your tears stop you from standing your ground.

this was it. this was the moment levi would pour his heart out to you. you were a rare jewel who was capable of giving him those pangs in his chest. not everyone could do that, but you sure could without trying or realizing it whatsoever.

“all my life, i thought that there was no point in caring because you’ll lose it eventually, but…” he began to speak, almost tempted to hold back, but he refused to do so any longer. “all i’ve ever been given here is a reason to care, and i didn’t want to show it. i didn’t want anyone to see it, and i wish they could know that i did. i did care, more than what’s possible to express.”

your hardened expression turned soft. to think he didn’t have such feelings made you feel so stupid. it’s easy to judge a book by its cover, isn’t it? but you read levi all wrong. oh so wrong. “you did?”

“i do, even now. that applies to you too, you know.” levi replied without shame.

“i didn’t think it did.” you avert his gaze.

“it’s almost disgraceful to admit how often you cross my mind, y/n.” your eyes widen when those words escape his mouth. was this real life? it seemed too good to be true. levi immediately thought he crossed a line, so he tried to shut the situation down as quickly as he could without ruining this moment. “i’m sorry if that came out weird, i—”

“no, no! it’s not weird!” you swiftly interrupt him. “i… i could say the same thing.”

“you could?” he said in amazement. it was like he was completely oblivious. why else were you always so eager to obey his orders and make sure you never let him down? you wanted him to notice you, and now he has given you his attention in the best way possible.

“yes, which i guess is kind of odd considering this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.” you say with a faint giggle towards the end. “it’s a shame it had to be under these circumstances, really.”

“i know, and i’d like more, if you do too. it’s not an order, i swear.” levi replied eagerly, which was a pleasant surprise.

“i’d like that, captain.” you grin.

“can i… give you an order though?” he asked with a bit of hesitance.

“seems like poor timing to me, don’t you think?” you question, almost tempted to laugh at him, but you were going to see where this went.

“it’s not. i just… would prefer it if you called me levi from now on, please.” as if this couldn’t get any better. levi was saying “please” to you. god, you loved it.

“okay, levi. now i have an order for you.” you say with a smirk. “have a cup of tea with me, and you’re making it.”

levi smiled at the thought of what he would say next. “right away, y/n.”

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #aot levi #snk levi #levi ackerman fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #levi fanfiction #pluto writes 📝

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stealingyourbones · 1 year

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Submitted Prompts #85

*deposits the cleaned skull of a deer* As tribute, darling.

Danny doesn't erase the memories of his parents after the Reality Trip episode. Maddie and Jack tell Danny they love him and try to help via helping him figure out what the limits of his powers are and what he needs to be a healthy half ghost, but G.I.W. find out, catch Danny and tada, vivisection on our favorite Ghoat Boy. A rag-tag rescue mission ensues, consisting of some of Danny's "rogue's" and Valerie, who was brought into the fold earlier. A big battle in the Main facility happens that the group barely manages to get Danny out and escape to Fentonworks. Jack and Maddie, knowing there was nowhere way, set the portal to blow and, with heartfelt platitudes and tight holds, send the children through to save them and sacrifice themselves to keep the Agents from capturing Danny once more. Tucker, driving the Spector Speeder, tries to keep the group calm while Sam, Valerie, and Jazz work to patch up Danny.

In trying to stop Danny from fully dying, Jazz makes a wish, completely forgetting about Desiree's powers.

"I wish there was a world where you could be safe, little brother." Jazz whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks and pressing a clean wad of gauze onto Danny's bleeding chest as Sam works diligently to sew him back together.

The Speeder rumbles, and Sam barely has time to look up, horrified, at Jazz before Desiree's silky smooth voice whispers across their ears. "So you have wished it, so shall it be..." Green mist swirls around Danny's chest before exploding outward, momentarily blinding the teens.

Tucker barely has time to stop the Speeder from smashing face-first into a shiny metal wall, sending the occupants tumbling on the floorboards of the cabin. "Fuck, Jazz, you can't say the W-Word! It's taboo for a reason!" He starts to reverse the Speeder when the door was ripped from its hinges.

Valerie's suit slipped over her body as a wrist blaster was pointed towards their assailant. Her arm dropped slightly, and her shoulders relaxed. "Holy shit, what did you wish for, Jazz?" She asks, staring at the burning red gaze of Superman, who had tossed aside the door like it weighed nothing.

"Did we hope realities?!" Sam yells out, quickly jumping to her own feet while pulling out her Laser Lipstick and popping the cap off in preparation. "Cause that looks real to me!"

Tucker is the one to step forward, eyes trailing over the statuesque form of the Comicbook Hero. "Pinch me, cause this can't be real." He holds his arm out to Sam, who immediately digs her pointer and thumb nail into his sweaty skin. "Ow! Fuck, Sam." He watches as the red fades from Superman's eyes and he settles down onto the ground quietly. "Nope, comics are real cause he's not a ghost and he was fucking flying."

"How did you get up here?" Superman's voice is smooth, strong, with a hint of a Midwestern twang, and looking closer at the Boy Scout shows he was a mix of all of the live action actors that had played him on the Silver Screen. His suit is just like the comics, vibrant and brightly colored with the stylized symbol for the Hoise of El emblazoned proudly on his broad chest.

"Jazz, you wished us into the fucking Detective Comiscs world. I... I think we're in the Watchtower, the one that orbits Earth..." Tucker's legs give out as he continues to stare at the World's Strongest Man. "We're not in Illinois anymore..."

And then we get further in where Danny heals and then looses his shit about his parents sacrifice and then the rest of the JL try to adopt these spitfire kids. Could throw them to the Titans, or to the Young Justice group, anything really.

Really, I just wanted to get this one out of my head.

#bones submissions #dpxdc #writing prompts #dp x dc prompts #wulfie i see you #homie this is a whole ass fic wtf #holy shit

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amywritesthings · 10 months

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silver underground. / chapter 12

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader (Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: flashback two - you're fifteen. it's been three years since you last saw the boy named levi.

Warnings: depictions of violence, mentions of death, injuries, levi doesn't have a single chill cell in his body, hurt/comfort, wound dressing, levi is 16 and mc is 15

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER 12 - FLASHBACK: TWO

Three years pass without seasons.

Every now and then you think about him — the small boy you fought, the small boy you shared bread with—

The small boy you would never see around the fighting circuits ever again.

Levi.

For someone as scrawny and unassuming as he might have been, it’s hard to forget him — how piercing his gray eyes are, how his voice carries like a whisper in the wind.

Days come and nights go, but in your loneliness, you seek what could have been.

Sometimes they’re nightmares — his eyes turn hollow, lifeless, as he crushes the life clear from your lungs by his hands around your throat. An attack out of necessity and never out of anger; you often wake up gasping, holding your neck with your hand where he once squeezed.

Sometimes they’re dreams — he appears at Roxy’s without cuts or bruises and sits besides you. His clothes aren’t tattered anymore. His hair stays the same. He shares the same food with you, over and over, until you can no longer eat bread without thinking of Levi.

You imagine conversations about nothing in particular. Most of the time, you do all of the talking: about your life, about made-up aspirations, about wishing you could get the hell out of here and fight for something bigger than another person’s purse.

If he ever responds, then you can't remember. The details of the exchange tend to disappear as soon as you open your eyes.

And you wonder:

Maybe he’s taller now.

Maybe he’s managed to escape to a life on the surface with the living world, making a name for himself in the sun.

(There is a third option to his fate, one more permanent and honest, but you don’t wish to entertain it.)

In your head, you’ve told him everything:

How you cannot picture your mother, but you hope you really do have her eyes.

How you don’t remember your father, but have a feeling you might have his nose.

How you’ve lost so many siblings as you grew up to violence. You tell him their names, their favorite colors, their little quirks, so someone can remember them, too.

How you want to someday see beyond the Underground City, beyond the Walls, and make something of a name you barely own. James; it was a name Mother gave you, but it isn’t your given name. You know your first name. You were just forbidden to use it around her.

(She hoped you’d forget. So many kids do. You never did.)

He doesn’t say much in return to your confessions, but it’s nice to tell someone else.

To exist in someone else.

Except he isn't real, not really.

The boy indifferent to winning a fight to the death one gloomy evening in the underground three years ago is only a figment of your imagination.

Until he isn’t.

Even off the clock, the street fights never cease.

Strangers love to think — to pretend — they can take on fighters. At fifteen, you’ve learned the reality of this all too well.

The dim lit alleyways and backroads paved to avoid wandering Military Police offer plenty of opportunities to get jumped by begrudged managers, other fighters, other people — the same snakes lining Mother’s pockets.

To them, it's a chance to take on the seasoned veterans out of the ring but with the advantage in the element of surprise.

It’s how you’ve ended up here tonight — trapped in an alleyway a few blocks from Roxy’s pub with nowhere to run.

Your assailants’ silhouettes have their intentions etched all of their postures.

Three against one.

It was supposed to be an unfair fight.

And it was — for them.

You find yourself being held back by the armpits by one of men keeping you stationary, your back to his chest. The other two, emboldened by the rare chance, wail on your face and torso. They’re cheap shots. Nothing you can’t handle.

None of their hits would have landed if you hadn’t just left a fight an hour prior. They'd caught you off guard while nursing your wounds after winding down from a victory.

These three idiots are not calculated, though. Each want a chance to show off their moves, to prove they're strong against the strongest.

(They haven’t thought this attack through, have they?)

You’re the one with the advantage.

So you make them pay for it.

You manage to escape the hold from behind by slamming the back of your head into the one person's nose, causing the tallest boy to scream in agony. Next you attack the girl fumbling to keep you still.

You grapple and punch your way out of their triangulated attack, dropping each body like flies.

The first goes down with a kick to the groin.

The second crumbles the minute you flip her over your back.

The third? He tries to run, but you quickly follow and slam his face straight into the brick wall.

You step back to observe your work: all of lay there groaning and whimpering on the ground, spent and pleading to be left alone.

(Does that count as four victories in one day?)

Except you can't stay to admire, not down here. In an attempt to avoid potential onlookers hoping to brawl next, you run.

You stick to the shadows you’ve grown to memorize and nurse your fresh wounds as you limp towards shelter.

Going home isn’t an option — Mother will question the fresh wounds with scrutiny.

You have to fix them alone, here, with nothing but the clothes on your back.

You park yourself against a brick wall to catch your breath, dissolving a wheeze to something more stable as your teeth grit with the shooting pain in your torso.

From an initial mental assessment, your ribs feel bruised but hopefully not broken. The one son of a bitch got a shot to your jaw, but when you move it side to side, it isn’t clicking.

Good. All good signs. So far it’s superficial.

Though your hands might need bandages before next week’s—

“You look like shit.”

A baritone voice sounds at the other end of the alleyway.

Your neck cracks by how quick you lift your chin to find it.

Maybe you did get hit hard enough to hallucinate, because what you see staring straight at you are piercing gray eyes you’ve seen a thousand times by now.

However, it’s only the second time you would have seen them in the flesh.

This person — a young man — has jet black hair shaved at an undercut just above his ears. The front of his hair flops along the edges of his face, framing his pointed nose and even pointier scowl.

You know those eyes.

You know that stare.

He wears a white, long-sleeved shirt, bundled up by a burnt orange vest that buttons at his abdomen, and a pair of fitted dark trousers. It fits better than the mangled tee you’ve recalled for all these years. His hands are at his sides, resting in fists.

“Mind your fucking business,” you bite back in warning, ignoring the shooting pain your torso.

He ignores your aggressive demand and dares another step forward.

“How bad did they get you?”

You blink in rapid succession to see if maybe his form changes.

It doesn’t.

You clench your jaw as you push your back from the brick wall.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he cooly replies, feet stopping just outside your personal bubble.

(This cannot be real.)

You shamble a step towards him, but pain shoots straight through your system. Your arm instinctively wraps protectively around your abdomen.

His eyes drop to follow.

“I guess the answer is bad enough.”

“Fuck off,” you exhale, maintaining an aloof attitude in conjunction with the hammering of your heart in your chest.

“Sure." The word drips with boredom, but he doesn’t turn to leave.

Instead the two of you stand there, staring, allowing a beat to pass.

You’re afraid your internalized excitement — relief — has overtaken your entire face.

Levi.

He really exists.

“You can leave, you know,” you force yourself to tell him. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine so long as those shitheads don’t get up.”

Your attention flickers over his shoulder, past the rows of buildings lining the streets where you’ve left three unconscious idiots to rot.

So he saw the aftermath of the jump.

(How much did he see?)

There is something hidden between the lines of his statement that has you reconsidering. Levi’s voice is nothing like you remember. It’s languid. Smooth, like a buttered whiskey.

Your first thought is that his voice doesn’t match his height in the slightest — he’s still short, never quite hitting that growth spurt you imagined in your sleep.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive,” you finally tell him, unable to hold in the thought any longer.

He shrugs a noncommittal shoulder and resumes his trek towards you.

“I get that a—”

“Whoa.”

You stumble back a step, using the wall to keep your balance while your other hand creates a barrier between you.

“Hold on. What the hell are you doing?”

He says nothing beyond a tilt of his chin: really?

“I said I’m fine,” you repeat.

His tongue clicks. Tch. “Yeah, and I’m six-foot fucking three.”

The deadpan joke takes you by surprise, forcing you to lock eyes. Levi doesn’t betray the passive act he’s putting on, but he doesn’t stop moving, either.

Not until his chest stops where your open palm hangs in the air.

The teenager regards you briefly, gray eyes flickering down then up.

“Roxy’s is close.”

“I know.”

“They have back rooms with supplies.”

“I know.”

“So why not go?”

He’s taunting you. Great.

You draw in a slow inhale through your nose, only to halt when a sharp pang hits once more. A pathetic squeak of pain exits your throat before you can suppress it.

“C’mon, dumbass.”

In that moment, Levi swats your boundary away with a flippant hand. He crosses the threshold, attention fixated on you as he drops a centimeter in height. You wait with baited breath when he dips to situate a strong arm under your armpits, pressing your battered body right beside his.

You can smell something herbal on his breath, and the world feels a little smaller.

“Why?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“Because,” is all he replies.

He could be leading you to more danger. He could have switched sides and turned into an MP rat of the Underground. He could be a lot of things, and you have one last fight in you to ward him off, but you… don’t.

He’s surprisingly gentle when he takes a step forward, testing just how hurt you might be. You limp beside him, determined to look brave. Strong.

He never moves faster than the pace you’re able to give.

Levi is right: Roxy’s pub is close. And every single inebriated soul at Roxy’s knows you, which is why you avoided the watering hole at all costs. You might be fifteen now, but you’re still under her reign. If Mother was drinking early, or one of your siblings—

He must have a psychic link to your stream of worry, because the first right turn he takes is into another alleyway. You recognize where he’s headed immediately:

Not the supply closet but the staff back room door.

“You have a key?” you ask, perplexed.

“No,” is all he replies.

Once you both make it to the door, he maneuvers your body off of him and props your back against the wall adjacent to the entryway.

Levi doesn’t fumble into his trouser pockets. He doesn’t pat down his vest.

He instead takes a decided step back.

Then he kicks hard, flinging the wooden door wide.

Your eyes mirror, rounding like large saucers.

He appears not the least bit bothered by what he’s done, instead returning to retrieve you under his arm. You reach for him this time, understanding his intention. Awkwardly the two of you pass through the opening of the door sideways, squeezing chest to chest to fold inwards.

To go from his hands on your throat to sandwiching together in the midst of a break-in, you’re sure you’re still dreaming or dead on a cobblestone street.

Levi shuffles you both to a chair situated askew in the tiny backroom and unceremoniously drops you onto it, lowering with you so not to spark any added pain to invisible wounds. For someone you envisioned so violently, he's... gentle. Careful.

You’re watching him like a mirage that may flutter like ash in the wind.

None of this makes sense.

Why is he helping you?

(A worry lingers in the back of your mind: perhaps he’s not.)

“Oi.”

You return to your body and find yourself staring at the open door, lopsided on its hinges.

You blink to the teenager’s face with cloudy interest as he stares down at you.

“Eyes on me. They aren’t coming.”

They. The assailants.

You realize he must have assumed you were keeping guard instead of spacing out.

“What makes you so sure?” you ask absently.

He doesn’t answer as he crosses the room to a lower cabinet by a sink. The room fills with the sounds of gentle rummaging, clicks and fabric, until he stumbles upon a med kit.

You swallow to coat your parched throat and lick your dry lips, keenly aware of every movement he makes.

He turns to you, kit in hand, and holds it out to you. You continue to stare, immobile.

“What do you want me to—”

“Hold it, idiot,” he snaps. “I can’t do everything.”

You liked him better when he barely spoke.

Snatching the kit from his hands, you let the fabric sit on your lap. His gray eyes map out quadrants of your face with diligent focus, noting a scratch here and bruise there with the hover of his hand, before getting to work.

You sit as well-behaved as you can manage while your attention switches between his hands and his face.

“I don't understand.”

You pause, expecting pushback.

“Why are you doing this?”

A rude remark never comes beyond a tentative press of medical cloth to your forehead.

“Helping anyone down here paints a target on your back, so why would you step in?”

Wordless, he presses a bandage to the spot where the skin broke.

“Levi.”

Sharply his attention rips down to you, and your breath halts.

So it is his name.

You’ve never said beyond your mind’s eyes, but it feels nice on your tongue. Like an answer to a question that was almost lost forever.

His arms remain raised, hands busy with pressing a lukewarm rag to the cut on your cheek.

Then he responds:

“Does it matter?”

“Yes,” your murmur.

“Why?”

“Because it’s harder to help than to ignore.”

Something flickers in his dulled gaze.

“Kind of like giving bread to a strange kid, right?”

His rhetorical question knocks the wind right out of your lungs, flaring the pain in your bruised rib cage. Levi ducks his attention back to tending your wounds, discarding sullied rags to the nearby sink display after addressing each bloodied cut.

Twelve years old with a selfless act.

Now you’re fifteen, soon to be sixteen, and he’s repaying the favor.

Neither instance ought to make any sense.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. “I’m not a saint for giving you food.”

Levi doesn’t react beyond a flare of his nostrils, but that could be attributed to a silent exhale.

“I could have killed you,” he says, dipping lower to hover slender fingers right where your arm clutches your ribs. “Broken?”

“Bruised.” Strands of hair fall into your face as you shake your head. “I’ve felt broken before.”

“Positive?”

“Yes.” His hand drops away from your torso and to his side. “And I was trying to kill you back then, too. It wasn’t our fault.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” he corrects simply.

“But you could have.”

His fingers pause for a fraction of a second. “Yeah. I could have.”

You barely nod. “I thought maybe something happened to you. I never saw you on the circuit again, so I thought—”

“That was the first and only time I fought in that nasty shit.”

Your brows furrow as his fingertips lift your chin. “...so you weren't sold into it?” He shakes his head. “I was your only fight?”

“Technically.”

“So then why were you—”

“Practice, in case I ever met someone who needed to kill me for quick cash.”

Someone yells cheers! from the other side of the wall where Roxy’s patrons gather for an early evening binge. Muffled laughter bubbles in the throats of strangers, causing your muscles to instinctually tense.

“That's a morbid reason,” you decide after a beat. “You were just a kid.”

“So were you, but for some reason you’re still in it.”

His words simmer with a hint of anger you can’t quite place. Levi drops his hands from your face, shoulders deflating in a rushed exhale.

“Good news: you look like shit, but you’re not in deep shit. I can’t do anything about your ribs, but your face should be fine. You have a bad habit of leaning into your hits.”

“Excuse me?” you blurt from the 180-degree turn of his assessment.

Levi doesn’t respond. His fingers draw the med kit off your lap, folding the fabric ever-so neatly in his hands — it’s more pristine than how it was left.

As his words fester in the air, your temper starts to get the best of you.

Your mirage is an asshole.

When he turns to the cabinet, you stand from the chair.

“What do you mean, I have a bad habit?”

“Did those shitheads make you hard of hearing, too?” he sarcastically bites.

“No, shithead," you mock right back. Although you’re grateful for his help, you’re not one to let someone walk all over you — Mother does it enough. “I don't lean into them."

Levi regards you from a side-eye stare. “Yes, you do.”

“What, so you’ve watched my fights?”

“I watch fights. Not just yours,” he corrects. “You're not special, so get your head out of your ass.”

“Oh fuck you, man.”

He hums, something like hmmph, but you could swear it’s paired with a smirk.

“Leaning into them makes an opponent feel like they have the upper hand,” you explain hotly. “Let them hit, then you strike.”

“It’s a shit strategy.”

“I’m smaller than a lot of my opponents.”

“So?"

“So? Coming out to a fight like you own the place puts a target on your back.”

“Did your Mom teach you that?”

Your nostrils flare. “Maybe she did, but your Dad sure as hell forgot to teach you manners.”

“He wasn’t my father.”

All of the heat gets sucked clear from the room as Levi’s icy statement cuts through it. The teenager finally faces you now, standing at his full height, and taps the cabinet door closed with the toe of his boot.

His expression has soured in contrast to his softening voice. You lift your chin in defiance in a show of bravery.

(Levi didn’t scare you back then. He doesn’t scare you now.)

“And you’re a better fighter than that. Making yourself look weak is a shitty strategy for someone who can't land a punch, let alone someone who can. You take the punches because you damn well know you're better than every opponent they match you with. If you didn’t play the theatrics, then those idiots would all be dead in minutes.”

As you bask in the whiplash of his insults switching to compliments, Levi walks across the room with his sights set only on you.

"I met you three years ago. I thought by now you would've found a way out."

Then he asks a question. Four words.

“Do you want out?”

When your eyes widen, he takes one more step closer. You don’t move away.

“If I had a way to get you out, would you take it?” he clarifies.

Your voice is hardly above a murmur. “...I don’t have a way out.”

“You do.”

“I don’t,” you snap, voice crackling. “I’ve tried. You know people in the circuits—”

“You have a way out."

“Levi—”

“James.”

The surprise is evident all over your face when Levi murmurs your name against his lips. It takes you completely out of your body, drowning in a dream that’s become reality.

There’s a dream where we run away together. You barely know me, but I tell you my name.

How long has he known the name Mother gave you?

“This isn’t a charity hand out. We need a fighter.”

“We?" you whisper sharply. "Who the hell is we?”

His jaw sets. “Furlan Church and myself.”

“Furlan fucking Church?” You sputter in disbelief. “That’s where you ended up after all this time, with that idiot?”

“If you stay in the circuits, then you will die,” Levi snaps, voice raised with deadly seriousness. “That bitch has been trying to put you in the ground for years. Do you really want her to win?”

His words should be a kindness you run towards.

But according to rumors, Furlan Church is an insufferable, big-headed thug. You’ve heard his name in passing among the youth for the last year or so now — he’s some gangster not much older than you in the midst of building a criminal empire.

Head in the clouds yet simultaneously in his ass, you’ve seen his very tiny crew rob a plethora of street brawl managers through the circuit.

And now Levi associates with him.

The boy with the bread at the pub found himself doing business with that stupid idiot, responsible for—

Responsible for challenging authority.

Responsible for running the show on swiping the seediest of trades in the Underground right from under the noses of corrupt MPs.

Responsible for mugging and attacking people in the middle of the night.

You stagger a step away from him and ask before you can talk yourself out of it.

“Wait — did you send those guys after me?”

Something indistinguishable flashes over his eyes — are you naïve enough to think it’s guilt?

“The three in the alleyway,” you continue. “They attacked me after the fight. It was really convenient of you to find me in the nick of time. So was that one of his initiation stunts?”

Finding you wasn’t a divine intervention of fate but a curated — calculated — test.

An audition to an Underground City gang that evidently Levi had leverage in.

Levi stares, unwilling to dispute your accusation.

“Dirty trick,” you spit, getting ready to turn the other way.

He steps a pace forward to stop you.

“We need muscle for our next heist,” he finally says. “You would get a cut. You would have a permanent place to sleep. You would have routine meals, day and night."

"I'd be selling myself for one contract to another," you growl.

"You're free to leave whenever you want," Levi tells you. "This doesn't work out in a week? Fine, then you can go. But if you do this, then you would never have to see that woman’s face again.”

“She’d find me,” you reassure in defeat.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he tells you with an unspoken promise. “You would be protected with me.” Then he corrects himself. "With us."

Your shoulders slump, too exhausted to fight him. "Levi..."

"You'll be paid."

"I don't give a shit about pay," you say, studying his eyes. "I have no money to my name as it is. Your... proposition just sounds too good to be true, that's all."

His brows knit in surprise. "What do you need to be convinced? We sent our three best brawn and you cleared them in minutes. You can see why we'd want you."

"And if I say no?" you hum, brow quirking expectantly. “Are you two going to keep sending people after me?”

“No,” Levi assures with utmost seriousness. “I'd let you live your life. This isn't an intimidation tactic. You would never hear from me again.”

There is hidden weight to that statement, whether you want to admit it or not. Not us, not Furlan — me. He doesn't correct himself this time.

Your eyes finally leave Levi’s face to watch the broken door.

That bitch has been trying to put you in the ground for years.

She has.

Do you really want her to win?

Not at all.

Do you want out?

More than anything.

You’ve wanted out since your first fight, but saying yes to his proposal means that you’re potentially stuck fighting worse.

Military Police, for one.

The gallows, another.

“James.”

You’ll never get tired of it — hearing a name you used to hate now flowing against his lips like cool water.

As if he’s waited to say it just as long as you’ve dreamt saying his.

Someone remembers you—

Sees you.

Just as you see him.

You speak before you can regret it.

“I’m in.”

Levi’s expression shifts, brows softening. Surprise etches across his face.

You draw in a breath, slow and controlled, and memorize the look of surprise when you nod with determination.

“I’m in. I’ll go where you go.”

author's note: your replies/reblogs/asks seriously are my lifeblood. chapter 13 is already written, i just have to do final edits, so it will be posted next friday am! thank you dearly for your encouragement and support. xo

tag list: @lazylizzy3 @notgoodforlife @sad-darksoul @dailydoseof-love @maliakealoha @nube55 @kateastrophies @blinkingsuns @gomigami @voidszoro @tanyeonn @chishiyasan @im-just-a-simp-le-whore

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x you #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #snk #snk fanfiction #aot #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #wip fanfic #fic: silver underground #silver underground #amywritesthings

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radioactive-earthshine · 8 months

Note

speaking of questions so you're known for being an impulse and superboy blog so maybe you can answer this but do bart or kon have any triggers?

This answer is going to be more extrapolation than any sort of concrete answer because these characters never come out and say "Oh my triggers are ____" and comics in of themselves are notorious for not dealing with trauma, only sometimes showing it when it is plot convenient (of course this is not always the truth, there are lots of examples of trauma haunting a narrative, and triggers being blatant among other comic characters).

For Kon and Bart specifically they both went through it in their solo runs and during their Teen Titans era so I am just going to focus on one each that immediately are fairly blatant. Meaning they disrupt thought and are associated with something negative.

For Kon...

The smell of burning flesh.

Not only did his girlfriend Tana die by being electrocuted, she was literally fried, but Bart's scout was incinerated in front of him - both of which he experienced and was haunted by. Bart in particular as he was shown to have frequent disruptive thoughts focusing on the smell of him dying.

Superboy (1994) #92

For Bart...

Being on his back and being kicked.

During his time as The Flash he was murdered by Thad and part of his murder involved him getting assailed while on his back and he was unable to fight back.

We see him having an instance of an intrusive thought/dream about his death (being kicked) and then later in his VR program he speaks openly about it.

Teen Titans v3 #91

cw: gore below

Teen Titans v3 #98

You could certainly come up with lots more for each of them as they both went through a lot of trauma and life-changing events but these two immediately stick out to me.

Bonus:

Bart hates being knocked out because when he passed out due to exhaustion Kon was murdered by Superboy Prime.

Bart also cannot tolerate being called 'stupid' because he was called that in canon numerous times, constantly and persistently.

Here's one for Kon that doesn't really have anything to substantiate it but makes sense... What about a good camera flash from all that time he spent as child star for Rex Leech's meal ticket?

#kon el #conner kent #kon-el #bart allen #cw gore #trauma

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ghostingcrows · 1 year

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Oh my god no because this is the thing I hate MOST about IDW. Is that Optimus is such a bad guy—he leaves his “friends” for dead/to be assailed by humans (Bumblebee, Jazz), he spouts about being better than the Primes who came before but does the exact same thing as them (takes advantage of the Prime label, colonizes an organic planet). But John Barber especially constantly fucking justified his actions. He colonizes Earth bc he can’t actually fix the weapons trade even though that’s what they were sent to do? Justified bc of a titan! He brings humans to Cybertron and they attack and poison Cybertron? Not his fault! There’s a hidden hot spot inside Trypticon? Obviously, that is Starscream’s villainy and Optimus taking it to Earth is righteous and not petty politicking!!! He constantly antagonizes those he view as “opposition” even though it’s peace time. AND OH OH OH when Bumblebee gets leadership, Optimus immediately comes back and says “oh I respect your leadership” but he never does. He still acts like the leader. When he gives Bumblebee the matrix it’s him “entrusting Cybertron to Bumblebee”, not “Bumblebee’s the leader the Autobots voted for, not me” and then he leaves Bumblebee for dead (I wonder why) AND THEN JOHN BARBER WEITES BUMBLEBEE CONSTANTLY DEFENDING OPTIMUS even THOUGH Mika Costa (who also has issues as a writer, but) consistently wrote Bumblebee as being frustrated with Optimus—something that should have only grown as a result of companionship with Starscream!!!! Sorry for the rant this is just one of the things I am very much a hater about (I have ranted about this before and I will again)

YES

THANK YOU

I hate John Barbers writings in IDW

From the horrid way he portrays Optimus to the just rampant character assassination

Soundwave HATES primes for good reason and then while OP is literally blackmailing him he randomly decides that hes friends with OP for NO REASON

The last time Windblade sees Starscream before Unicron she had reached an understanding of who he was and why he was like that

But then during Unicron before he can even say anything she immediately jumps on the hate train

And the most annoying thing ever is that he can't seem to decide if he thinks OP is bad or not'

One moment he has charcter calling out OP and making genuine remarks about his corruption but literally the next panel they'll be like "I'd follow him to the day I die" I hate it OP SUCKS

#idw optimus prime #optimus prime #idw bumblebee #bumblebee #idw starscream #starscream #idw soundwave #soundwave #windblade #idw windblade #idw #idw optimus slander

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happyk44 · 1 year

Text

Nico getting ganged up on in the middle of the night. There are some kids, ex-Titan army, who blame him for all their problems. It's not his fault they lost. It's not his fault their ostracized because they attacked the place they now live.

But they hate him all the same.

Honestly, he'd been expecting this to happen for a while. Thought it would've happened years ago, but he supposes his in-and-out presence in camp, plus the second war, made him difficult to pin down. But now he's there. Tensions have boiled and it's time to strike. They drag him out of his bed and into the woods.

He doesn't think much of it. Kicks and spits and bits until they drop him. Then scampers off. One girl, child of Apollo seems likely, follows him with a ray of light that bats the darkness away. Keeps it from pooling at his feet.

He keeps running. Away from the cabins and the trees. Towards the beach with its crashing waves. Sand hits his bare feet. The rough ride of rocks and shed skin from crabs grate at his skin.

One kid knocks him down from behind. His face hits the ground. He spits out speckles of rock from his tongue.

"Come here," they snarl as they flip him on his back. The others come panting into view, grab him by the wrists and ankles. So he's easy to hit despite his flailing.

They never once wonder why a child of darkness and earth started running for the water in the first place.

The first blow splits his lip. The second byrises his cheek, his eyes. He laughs and they hit him again. He keeps laughing nonetheless. Tartarus and monsters and his own shattering heart and they really think a couple blows to the face will break him?

"Stop fucking laughing," one girl shouts. She seems younger than the others. He almost feels sorry for her.

"It's just funny," he wheezed through a mouth of blood. Spits it up and out onto the nearest face. The boy recoils and snarls. "You're beating me up in front of my boyfriend. That's so stupid."

They look around, panicked. But when no one else pops into view, they glower down at him.

"There's no one here, you idiot!"

He rolls his eyes. "Nyx is here," he says, eyes to the black sky above him. "The stars were people once too. The moon, Artemis." He tilts his head back and smiles at the twiddling waves. "The ocean is here. My uncle." The water thrums viciously. "My boyfriend."

They didn't notice the way it pooled under Nico's head like a pillow, too busy enacting their blows. But they pause now as it trickles away. They loosen up as the water rises. They let him go as the sea froths with inky blackness.

Nico rises to his elbows. The wave behind him is a tower of terror. A threatening tsunami. His assailants are cowering away from him now. Pooled together in one easy to target group.

"I'd tell him to go easy on you," he sighs. "But he's an untameable man. Doesn't really listen to anyone. Especially when they hurt the people he loves."

A drop of blood leaks from his lip. Wells into a tearful droplet and splatters to the ground.

The wave crashes.

It sweeps around Nico, keeping him dry, as it knocks his assailants down. One kid screams, the sound drowned out in the roar of the ocean. They're pulled away by a watery hard, crawling desperately at sand that gives out under them like gravel.

Poseidon swallows them whole.

The others drown. Battered and bruised by water that is as unforgiving as a riptide. One is torn apart, blasted into pieces on impact. The others are thrown around. Played with like its a game.

When the game is done with, Nico sighs. There is no remnants of bodies, no visible death. They have been sunk deep where people can not follow.

Poseidon wraps wet watery arms around Nico's chest. His body forms more solid against Nico's back as rivets of seawater bead up and down his skin. They sting at his cuts. It doesn't take long to heal him. It's accented by a firm kiss to his cheek when completed.

"Do you feel better now?" Nico asks.

Poseidon pinched him. "Cheeky."

Nico snorts and turns in his hold. The god is clean-shaven today, black curls bouncing as though he's still underwater. His hands are large and possessive. Nico sinks into him like a dense rock.

"Thank you," he hums.

Poseidon squeezes his hips. "No worries, little scavenger."

Nico giggles at the name. He likes it. A crab. A lobster. An eel. Something found in the deepest depths, surrounded by darkness and death.

Poseidon's hand drifts through his hair, shaking out sand and debris. "It's almost morning," he muses. "Want to get breakfast?"

"Fishcakes?" Nico asks.

The god hums. Nico stretches out before standing. Poseidon rises with him, an arm looped around his waist and a steady hand on his hip. He leans in. Breathes sea salt and blood. Warm lazy days and shipwrecks.

Water laps at his feet. Twists and pulls him needily towards the swell. He walks, easy, unafraid. And lets the waves crash around him as he sinks.

He's not afraid of drowning.

#nico x poseidon #poseidon (pjo)#nico di angelo #my writing #my fanfic #happy talks pjo

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crimeronan · 7 months

Note

Oh my goodness! Thank you for the Darius Lore. I must now reread it several times then go reread WWAITSOATL with my newfound knowledge!! >:3 Would love to read the bit you said you've written of the with Belos, GG, and Darius should you feel like sharing (No pressure tho!)

i'd need to edit the full scene a LOT to make it worth posting, but i can at Least give u this snippet from the draft:

and in looking for this, i also found one more scene that i forgot i'd drafted, a bit of which is passable enough:

“Oh,” Darius says, surveying the scattered equipment and the sigil-less witches in the room. “Wrong door. I’ll be going, then.”

He’s managed to exit and stride almost all the way down the hall when a hand grabs his wrist, hard. His magic springs into action almost before he’s registered the movement, a tendril of abomination snapping out at the assailant.

The assailant’s grip does not loosen.

Darius whirls, jerking his arm out of the offending grip, and finds himself face-to-face with Hunter. No mask, full uniform, staff gripped in his other hand.

He’s about to snap something about personal space, but then Hunter grips his arm again and drags him through a previously-unseen gap in the castle wall. Possibly a previously-nonexistent gap.

Darius finds himself in a narrow stone alcove, the opening concealed behind a tapestry. Hunter presses him back against the wall, releasing his arm in favor of pressing a gloved hand over Darius’s mouth.

Darius makes an indignant noise. Titan only knows where the fabric has been lately.

“If it was anyone else,” Hunter murmurs, his eyes focused, intent, boring into Darius’s own, “this would be a different conversation. But I just need to check. Are you going to tell anyone?”

Darius flicks a glance down at the offending hand, raising an eyebrow. Hunter removes it from his mouth.

“Tell anyone what?” he says.

“Darius.”

“Honestly. Right now all I’m thinking about is how irritated I am with you. You give me a heart attack thinking someone’s trying to murder me, and then you get your slimy gloves and these slimy walls all over my clothes. I literally don’t know or care what you’re talking about.”

“Darius.”

“I will not tell anyone that you shirked a patrol to relax with a handful of other duty-shirking miscreants for an hour. You were all passing around apple blood and sharing gossip about weird former high school classmates. The irresponsible party vibes were astounding. Someone was most of the way to passed out under the table, I heard some whispered arguing about whether to fess up to the Healing Coven, and I’m almost certain I saw someone sticking chewing gum to the Emperor’s statue. About what you’d expect from a bunch of twenty-two year olds who don’t feel like doing their jobs.”

Hunter’s shoulders relax, just a tiny bit. He takes a small step back, putting as much space between them as is possible in the cramped area. “I can explain.”

“Are you going to get hurt?”

“Probably.”

“Then -- yeah. You will explain.”

#replies #long post #my writing #toh #previous golden guard #darius deamonne #toh prequel

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omnitheist27 · 3 months

Text

The 40 x Kill the Justice League (2/4)

@the-ravenclaw-werewolf and @purplemochi20055

I'm back with another upload of The 40 x Kill the Justice League fan comic and fan art!

In this scene, Kobayashi, Heine, Killua, and Spike are taking shelter in a museum with an injured Pre-brainwashed Izuku in toll. However, things aren't as it seems with the two unnamed civilians who were already taking shelter has been nabbed by two assailants in the shadows. They heard some very...interesting sounds before the corpses were thrown in front of them.

Then, to their collective shock and horror, Nagisa and Levi dropped down to reveal themselves as brainwashed covert operatives of Brainiac. The two don't say anything, with Nagisa looking over to Levi as he pulls out an EMP detonator to kill the lights. As the horror is about to begin for the unbrainwashed members of The 40.

----

Profile: Corrupted Nagisa

Personality: Corrupted Nagisa takes all of Nagisa's negative traits and brings them to the front. He's far more open with his opinions and has no restraint with using lethal force. However, he's the careful and analytical young man we all knew and loved, which makes it more dangerous to predict his actions.

Powers and Abilities:

He possesses the same abilities as his Pre-brainwashed self but his physical condition is enhanced through cybernetics.

Equipment:

Bottomless knives: He carries an unlimited supply of knives that can cut through any Earth-made material.

Handguns: He wields plenty of firearms for quick and precise executions.

EMP Detonators: He carries a detonator that allows him to disable electronics besides his own.

Voice Mimicry filters: He can disguise his voice to fool others in communications.

Smoke bombs: He carries plenty of smoke bombs to disorient his opponents or make quick escapes.

Fear Toxin: An extremely potent anxiogenic drug that could be administered through injection or inhalation. Acute exposure to Fear Toxin/Gas induces intense and often irrational fear, which can cause those exposed to it to go permanently insane or indirectly cause death. Death can occur with a concentrated dose due to panic-induced adrenergic cardiac arrest, suicide, and injuries sustained from other toxin-afflicted individuals.

----

Profile: Corrupted Levi

Personality: Corrupted Levi still acts as the original Levi, but his goals are now to help Brainiac terraform the Earth and either subjugate or convert humanity instead of saving it.

Powers and Abilities:

He possesses the same abilities as his Pre-brainwashed self but his physical condition is enhanced through cybernetics.

Equipment:

Advanced 3D Maneuver Gear: Corrupted Levi uses a more technologically advanced version of his original Three-Dimensional Maneuver Gear; fitted with an unlimited supply of battery, hard light in place of metal cables, and blades made of lasers instead of metal.

Bottomless knives: He carries an unlimited supply of knives that can cut through any Earth-made material.

EMP Detonators: He carries a detonator that allows him to disable electronics besides his own.

Voice Mimicry filters: He can disguise his voice to fool others in communications.

Handguns: He wields plenty of firearms for quick and precise executions.

Smoke bombs: He carries plenty of smoke bombs to disorient his opponents or make quick escapes.

----

As symbolism, as Corrupted Nagisa and Corrupted Levi attack the unbrainwashed members of The 40 (now all tripped up by the Fear Toxin), they appear as a giant shadow with a snake coiled around its body. Levi's job is to kill the Titans in his own world and is now represented as a giant shadow, doubly ironic with red eyes (that can shoot Lasers!) as a Red-Eyed Titan killed his two close friends, Isabel Magnolia and Furlan Church, in the OVA. Nagisa's bloodlust in his own series is represented by a snake due to his talent for masking his true intentions and is represented as a giant blue snake capable of striking with blazing speeds. Humorously, one could perceive Corrupted Nagisa just riding on Corrupted Levi's back to help with their Fear Toxin illusions being more intimidating.

Next publication: a second crossover fan comic of The 40 x Poppy Playtime!

#the_40 #suicide squad kill the justice league #crossover fanart #fan comic #miss kobayashi's dragon maid #kobayashi #the royal tutor #heine wittgenstein #hunter x hunter #killua zoldyck #cowboy bebop #spike spiegel #assassination classroom #nagisa shiota #attack on titan #levi ackerman #brainwashing

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kalyria1674-blog · 1 year

Text

Le pouvoir de l'Assaillant

Voilà, jusqu'ici je pensais avoir compris le pouvoir de l'Assaillant. C'est-à-dire la capacité d'instaurer un déterminisme fatal dans le monde en poussant les anciens détenteurs de l'Assaillant à tout faire pour permettre la réalisation des souvenirs futurs les guidant, que le résultat soit glorieux... ou tragique.

Mais, en y réfléchissant, j'ai aussi réalisé trois problème principaux à cela :

youtube

Je pense que c'est une excellente vidéo mais quelque chose me dérange dans leur interprétation des pouvoirs de l'Assaillant. Si Eren de 850 a vu les souvenirs de son père de 845 interagissant avec un ''lui'' de 854, il ne devrait pas comprendre ce dont il s'agit à partir de là.

Car si la façon dont Eren de 854 (qui n'a pas encore les Chemins sous son contrôle) parle à son père est de le laisser voir ses souvenirs, Grisha (et par extension Eren de 850) ne devrait avoir qu'une vue à la 1ère personne empêchant de distinguer avec précision de qui il s'agit. De plus, selon son propre aveu à Siëg en 854, en touchant la main d'Historia en 850, Eren n'a vu que des fragments des souvenirs de son père et n'obtient l'image complète qu'en voyageant avec son frère. Donc à moins qu'il ne soit miraculeusement tomber sur la partie où sa vue à la première personne de 854 appelle Grisha ''Papa'' (ce qui est toujours possible), il n'aurait pas dû pouvoir s'identifier avec une voix, une stature et des vêtements différents.

Sans parler du fait que, dans ce cas, il aurait dû voir ses souvenirs au travers des yeux de son père, soit à la 1ère personne. Ou alors voir Grisha à travers la 3ème personne par les yeux de Frieda mais, dans ce cas, aucune raison pour que Siëg et Eren de 854 apparaissent sur l'image.

Et, quand bien même il aurait entendu ce ''Papa'' comme indice et tirer les bonnes conclusions, cela n'explique pas la façon dont, dans la caverne, il pouvait initier un contact physique avec son père (et pareil pour Siëg) s'il ne s'agit que d'une transmission de souvenirs à la 1ère personne. A mons que l'on ne parle ici du pouvoir de l'Originel mais, la dernière fois que j'ai vérifié, quand Eren parlait de l'Originel capable de percevoir le temps d'une façon non-linéaire, il parlait de son plein pouvoir, celui d'Ymir. Qui, pour rappel, était le seul ''Originel'' a possédé le pouvoir des Neufs y compris celui qui reviendrait à l'Assaillant, contrairement à celui des Fritz dont Siëg disposait puisque lui-même dit que le passé ne peut être changer et admet donc ne pas pouvoir interagir avec les protagonistes.

Ce qui émettrait donc la possibilité qu'Eren de 854 a eu la vue à la troisième personne (si Eren de 850 peut l'identifier ainsi) et la possibilité d'établir un contact physique avec son père grâce à l'Assaillant (on remarque que ce n'est que quand Eren le permet que Grisha devient capable d'enlacer Siëg) ce qui est une idée intéressante... mais rend ainsi tout le truc des ''souvenirs uniquement'' non-pertinent à moins de tordre les Chemins en faveur d'une... ''reconstruction du passé'' basée sur les souvenirs en 3D de tout les participants et permettant d'interagir avec eux suite à un mystère métaphysique.

... En tout cas, c'est la seule façon dont je peux concilier vue à la 1ère personne/3ème personne/contact physique simultanément dans une même scène se déroulant toujours de la même façon... si l'on parle bien de ce pouvoir comme étant celui de la fatalité et non l'interprétation qu'en donne Grisha et Eren qui n'en n'ont eux-même qu'une compréhension fragile né de l'observation rapide d'une poignée de souvenirs.

Et, dans le monde de SnK, la vérité n'existe pas.

Enfin, le troisième point que j'aimerais relever est : comment Eren manipulerait-il les plus anciens détenteurs à travers le temps ? Si celui-ci ne peut leur montrer que ses propres souvenirs, je veux bien que le prédécesseur (et son prédécesseur) de Kruger puisse être influencer car ils devraient pouvoir s'y retrouver un peu.

Mais vous imaginez un peu le bordel quand il faut montrer à un ancien détenteur d'il y a 1 000 ans / 1 500 ans la situation géo-politique actuel et lui faire comprendre ce qu'il se passe ? Qu'est-ce que le 3DMG/Equipement Tridimensionnel ? Qu'est-ce que sont ses bâtons qui crache des explosions et tue à distance ? Et ce serpent de fer qui transporte des gens ?

Pour rappel, si l'empire Eldien dominait le monde, ils devaient être à la pointe de la technologie d'il y a un siècle. Alors comment expliquer ce genre de monde a quelqu'un né et ayant vécu 900 ans auparavant voir davantage si tu n'as que des expériences vécues à la 1ère personne et en nombre limiter à montrer ?

Ainsi, la seuleoption d'Eren serait de montrer des morceaux de souvenirs ''pré-enregistrés'') de lui se parlant dans un miroir avec les bonnes paroles pour encourager ses prédécesseurs... en gardant en tête qu'il devrait impérativement s'agir de phrases assez génériques (et à l'impact minimisé en conséquence) pour ne pas attirer le soupçon de ceux qu'il vise. Ce qui est quand même vachement hasardeux, surtout s'il doit le faire plusieurs fois sur plus de 150 générations de shifter...

Ou, pour résumer, si l'Assaillant ne permet que de voir les souvenirs :

Pourquoi bascule t-on entre 1ère et 3ème personne sans raison apparente ? La logique voudrait qu'on reste sans cesse à la 1ère personne... hors ce n'est pas ce qu'il se produit.

S'il ne s'agit que de souvenirs, pourquoi Eren peut bousculer son père avec une main sur son épaule quand il s'agenouille près de lui et Grisha s'effondrer dans les bras de Siëg sans tomber ?

D'où Eren, avec ses seuls souvenirs et quelques uns épars de Grisha et (encore moins) de Kruger pourrait-il influencer ses prédécesseurs ayant vécu il y a plus d'un millénaire ? Ils ne comprendraient même pas ce qu'il montre !

Ou, pour condenser encore davantage : Point de vu, contact physique, incompréhension générationnelle.

Alors la capacités à voir les souvenirs est-il vraiment la capacité de l'Assaillant ? Ou est-ce autre chose d'incompris même par ses détenteurs ?

Je serais ravie d'avoir vos avis tant que ça reste respectueux.

#SnK #Shingeki no Kyôjin #Attack on Titan #AOT #L'Attaque des Titans #Titan Assaillant #Titans Primordiaux #Eren Jaeger #Grisha Jaeger #Eren Kruger #Plus j'y pense et moins l'explication d'Isayama a de sens...#Le Titan Originel (Founding = FT) des Fritz n'est qu'un fragment de celui d'Ymir...#Et le Titan d'Ymir (il faudrait le distinguer avec un autre nom) qu'Eren utilise avait aussi les pouvoirs de l'Assaillant...#Youtube

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clownhoodieguy · 10 months

Text

Ok, vore scenario time:

Tw: Vore, g/t

Once a beautiful, sunny day turns into a downtrodden, rainy evening. For anyone else, this would be an excuse to stay inside, but as a micro adventuring through a rain forest, it was a death sentence.

In the distance, a chipper tune breaks through the white-noise of the downpour, gleeful humming filling the micro's ears and drowning out the heavy weather. A creature, be they human, anthro, or anything in between or outside of those definitions steps just barely into view.

The mere silhouette of the person trudges ever closer to the tiny, helpless micro. The figure seems to be wearing a poncho or raincoat, hauling around an open umbrella on their shoulder with a dimly lit lantern hanging off of the handle of it, the flickering flame inside starving for oil.

With clouds above only growing darker, and angrier, the size of the droplets would only increase too. Skittering around to avoid getting hit by the artillery-shell sized specks of water, our micro friend would collapse just shy of the person, who had stopped in their place to observe them. On Their hands and knees, weighted down by a blanket of icy cold water and damp dirt, the micro hadn't even the strength to reach up and cry for help. Fortunately, the micro's luck would soon turn around, the being once towering over them begins to lower himself to the ground. All at once, the rain would quit abusing the little person, a moment to catch their bearings and to glance up at their savior. Terror shoot through the micro's frail little form as they come to realize that the person had not come just to save them from the elements - no, there appears to be a more... carnal desire at play.

A droplet of substance, much thicker than the rain, splotches down next to the micro. Saliva. A guttural growl trembles from their mid-section. Stifling a gasp, the micro would slowly turn their head upwards, mouth agape in shock and horror. Staring back at the little person, a face of utter starvation; teeth exposed, droplets of drool dribbling down the titan's chin and falling to the ground around the micro.

The person in the raincoat arcs their back down, bringing their maw ever closer to the weary, tiny fellow below. A waft of hot, moist breath rolls over their form, one of the strings of saliva that had formed between two teeth break off and ride the gust of warm air. Huff after huff, the two would both just stand there in stunned silence, the warm, somewhat stale air flowing over the micro sending goose bumps up their arms.

Finally, the inchling would come to, shuddering and stammering as they'd slowly back away from the voracious monster, knees quivering and chest rising and falling with the speed of startled prey.

"Monster!", they'd cry between chattering teeth, "Get back, ye!", or something along those lines, it was hard to tell with a voice as shaky theirs.

Making a break for the arch of arms would proof fruitless, but anything was better than being devoured by that freak! As the cotton-swattled hand of the famished giant scoops up their fleeing prey.

Immobilizing panic had set in, an attempt to clamor out of their assailant's paw was made, but a thumb about the size of their body had firmly planted itself onto their back, pressing the micro's body down into the cushy centre of the behemoth's palm. The black, fingerless gloves that the umbrella bearing person wore were dry and toasty, warmed by the soft glow of the lantern's ever dimming light.

Bringing themself to their feet would cause the micro's stomach to drop, butterflies dancing around in their belly a few seconds after the titan stood. While the dazed inchling was recovering from the sudden stirring of their stomach, the giant would place the micro's cape between their teeth to free up their hands, slide a thermos from their raincoat's inner pocket, tipping the container into it's own cup-shaped-cup.

The last of the thermos's contents would spill out into the lid, dropping to the wet earth below once it was empty. Steam rose from the cup, a sweet, milky smell rising with it. The tea smelt so good in fact, that it cures the micro's nausea, leaving them hanging limply between the titan's teeth, wondering what that delightful scent was. Just as that thought had cross their mind however, the goliath's teeth would separate, sending the micro adventurer free-falling into the steamy tea below.

Plunk!

It was pleasantly warm, but was not enough to calm the tiny fellow down, reminded of what the giant saw them as: a snack.

They'd thrash about, wading over to the edge of the cup to make another escape attempt, the person in the raincoat just idly watched as their food slipped and sloshed about in their tea. The clumps of wet dirt the tiny traveler had collected during their march through the rain would begin to flake and slough off of their clothes and boots, leaving the tea-soaked micro looking ever more moreish.

With their thumb and forefinger, the large creature would pluck the soaked micro from their lid of filthy tea, dropping it to the ground to join the empty thermos in the mud.

The micro hangs limply, exhausted from their lopsided fight with their enormous assailant, all they could do was stare down at the ground, a sense of dread washing over them as the once distant path below them shifted to the giant's face. Dangling over that face maddened by hunger, their lips would slowly part, jaws hinging open and tongue slithering just outside of the maw, curling a bit as to more resemble a slimy, squishy slide.

The ruined cape that the adventurer wore tears like a cookie left in milk too long, plummeting the hopeless inchling into the depths of the gaping mouth below them.

It's hot, and it leaves their skin tingling as it quickly adjusts to the sudden warmth. The traveler had ultimately given up at this point, accepted that this was a fate they could have only avoided had they decided to drown in the mud instead; they couldn't help but gaze into the abyss in front of them, forced to squint with each rush of warm air blowing past their entire body.

That slippery, slimy tongue that they'd been dropped on shifts under them, little by little sliding them down the length of the slick muscle. With nothing to reliably grip onto, there was nothing the micro could do but struggle and watch in fear as the undulating gulch of the giant loomed ever closer.

Glck!

They'd been on the base of the tongue before it would swiftly rise up, forcing the small adventurer up against the warm, saliva coated flesh in front of them - if they weren't drenched in spit before, they were now. Soon, said flesh would shift, revealing the dark, rippling flesh below.

From the black depths of the massive predator's body came a cacophony of bodily noises; a heart softly beating, lungs quietly drawing in oxygen, and the yearning gurgle of an intensely empty stomach.

Glp...

With one more gulp, the small traveler's body would get lodged down the tight, rippling space before them, head first, of course. Swallow after swallow, strong squeezing motions would pull the poor micro down the giant's esophagus, a deep sigh of relief following after the adventurer had reached a certain thresh point.

For what felt like hours, the giant's prey had been squeezed, squished, pulled and sucked down into the core of the being, it getting hotter the further they sunk. Coming to a slow halt, the micro would find their face first into a tightly shut ring of muscle, it was the only thing separating them from the presumably harsh insides of their devourer's gut.

The sphincter loosens, and the micro would spill out into the titan's stomach. It's remarkably small, most likely from malnutrition. The squirming snack would find themself with just barely enough wiggle room, but it was a far cry from what they expected it to be like in the belly of the beast.

Instead of violently crushing them, the surround stomach walls would softly cottle, and in place of corrosive digestive juices lays a shallow puddle of deep blue, sparkling sludge, which provided just barely illuminated their cramp, squishy confinements.

"Ahhh- Bwooarp!~", the giant sighs and lets a deep belch out into the rainy night air, a sound only intensified by being curled up in the middle of the predator.

"I must apologize for the uh... odd introduction. Normally, I would take a thing or two from supply runners taking their carts down this path, but ever since they opened the shorter, alternative route, I've been struggling to scrounge up enough food to survive off". The prey they'd managed to squeeze into their tum couldn't help but sit themself up against one of the many squishy, goo slicked walls around them, and listen intently to their predator's sob story.

"...But as you can see, you're alive and well, yes? I didn't pulverize you with my teeth, and judging by your little wiggles, you haven't been reduced to a mash in there?", of course, digestion would take much longer than that, but it'd leave the micro with a few question. For their morsel's stillness and co-operation, they're rewarded with a few gentle pats, their fleshy confinements rippling lightly as their belly is pet.

Finished exploring the path for food, the person in the raincoat spins on their heel and meanders into the bush, their lantern illuminating the shrubbery brightly, as if the lamp had recently gorged itself on oil.

Undulating, churning, shifting stomach walls carefully squishy against their inhabitant, squelching, groaning and burbling all the while. Like a hammock, the strange giant's stomach rocks from side to side, leaving the already exhausted adventurer feeling ever drowsier, fighting with all their will power to keep their eyes open.

The killing blow had yet to come, but our tiny adventurer was growing more weary by the second. Coming upon a dead, hollowed out tree, this is what the starving person had been calling home for as long as they'd been living in the forest. Within the tree, sat all the things they had ever owned: a sleeping bag, a kettle, a bag full of trinkets and tools, and a hook to hang their lantern from.

Slumping down into the husk of the tree trunk, the hermit rests his back against the walls of his home, slowly sliding a hand over their paunch. Within, the traveler would softly groan as the gesture makes their surrounds shift about, expending the last of their energy to run their own hand along the soft, squishy insides of the giant's belly.

"H-hey! That tickled!", apparently, they had quite the sensitive stomach, tensing his abdomen and squeezing their little gut buddy into submission. Scanning their little living space, the umbrella bearer spots a novel they'd stolen from a carriage driver while spooking their horses, lifting it from it's resting place and wiping the dust from it's creased cover. "I do hope you do not mind me reading to myself, I've never really been able to read well, and I find saying the words out loud helps me focus", after a few long, dull seconds, the giant would receive a few gentle taps, which move them to giggle to themself.

Flicking to the page they were on last, they'd select the line they ha stopped at the night before and began reading aloud, their soft, narrative voice playing through their prey's ears like silk. It was all becoming too much, the titan had tucked them into bed, fatigue was lulling them to sleep, and now the adventurer was being read a bedtime story. It was the twig that broke the metaphorical camel's literal back. As if their very eyelashes had transmuted into lead, they found sleep finding them, whisking the micro away into a cushy, comfy, long rest.

================================================

UHHH- that was way longer than it was supposed to be! It was supposed to just be a prompt/scenario, but I just kept writing and I didn't want to stop. I hope this was worth a read, I thought it was really cute!

I really need to see some other people's work just to get a read on how I should format my writing, and maybe so I can increase my vocabulary(?).

I left it purposefully vague so anyone can self insert their characters, I just hope it wasn't so vague that the constant they-them-ing and "the [brief description]..." stuff didn't get frustrating!

#sfw vore #soft v0re #v0re #safe vore #extreme cuddling #vore writing #vore tw

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ask-zerotrio · 1 year

Text

Story So Far...

//Taking a drawing break briefly as my wrist has started aching again lol. Thought this might be a fun little summary post! This doesn’t contain everything I’ve made for them, but eh.

Major plotpoints/lore (marked by key art pieces I suppose) are noted with * and bolded.

Clavell says hello! Sada and Turo butt in too. It’s introduced that this is a post-game universe where Clavell/Sada/Turo are a polycule who raised Arven together.

*The trio are revealed to have been childhood friends. >>

The nature of their relationship is revealed a little more. Their family is a strange one. >>

Turo learns what DILF means. >>

* We see a glimpse of domesticity in the Lighthouse. >>

Clavell reminisces about how the trio have known each other for so long. It’s revealed that Sada and Turo occupy the empty lab area of Clavell’s office, and have artificially created Miraidon and Koraidon. >>

Glimpses of the trio raising Arven all together. >>

Clavell learns what DILF means (sort of.) >>

* How Clavell got Sada and Turo to leave area zero is revealed. He had his Gyarados and new team of water pokemon flood Area Zero. The place is no longer visitable. >>

* Clavell explains how the three of them got romantically involved. >>

Arven shares a bit about how being their only son is like. It’s also revealed that he is a Champion in this universe, and doing quite well with all his friends. He’s hoping to use the Herba Mystica to heal the two raidons (and got grounded for fighting titans during his treasure hunt lmao) >>

* Clavell gets a migraine, after discussing the possibility of an assailant harming his family. >>

Sada shares a little bit about her starter pokemon, Fuecoco. >>

Arven calls Clavell Pops! >>

* Clavell is becoming more and more sick, for an unknown reason. >>

Arven thinks everyone should stop trying to kiss his dads. >>

* Clavell is asked about how he feels knowing other realities where he didn’t step in to pull Sada and Turo out of the crater, breaking down by the end of it. >>

* Turo apologises to a sleeping Clavell for an unknown reason. >>

Turo doesn’t know what Gigachad means. >>

Something silly of how the trio’s confession went. >>

* Clavell doesn’t know what babygirl means. Sada tucks him into bed, expression solemn. His condition is worsening. >>

* Both Sada and Turo apologise to a sleeping Clavell. >>

* Clavell talks about how the grief felt so real, despite not living those other lives. >>

Turo shares how he crushed extremely hard on Clive and Sabine, whilst dressed as Trent. >>

Clavell speaks owo. >>

Sada loves her boys haha. >>

* Sada shares a bit about how she was when she was in college, and how Clive might’ve been partly inspired by her. >>

* Sada and Turo pull a slightly better Clavell out to see Mesagoza’s sunset... asking some peculiar questions about treasure. They kiss him, and it feels like an awful goodbye. Clavell passes out after coughing blood and a sharp pain lancing through him. >>

* The trio are no longer answering asks directly. Instead, only the Zero Lab’s log file search is available. >>

CCTV footage of the Zero Lab Canteen being on fire due to Turo’s poor cooking skills. >>

Sada and Clavell share a tender moment during her pregnancy, Clive makes an appearance to cheer her up once more. >>

Flood query does not exist. >>

Flutter Mane query results in footage of them. >>

* Sada’s Personnel File. >>

The trio celebrate Turo’s birthday. >>

The lab’s inhabitant’s daily routine. >>

Baby Arven is hushed to sleep by Clavell. >>

Baby Arven and Turo share a peaceful moment together, watching some Glimmora and Glimmets. >>

Baby Arven eats a camera. >>

Sada throws Arven’s diaper at Turo’s face in an argument. >>

Sada asks for kisses. >>

* “Miraidon & Koraidon” search entry. >>

“Safety” query shows Sada, Turo, Clavell and a baby Arven resting. >>

* Search for “casualties” results in footage of Sada and Turo talking. >>

* Arven’s first birthday is celebrated in the labs. >>

A conversation between Clavell and Turo is recorded. >>

* Scream Tail identified in Station 4. Password required for further access to zero lab footage.>>

An email between Turo and Arven is found. >>

* Password Authenticated. Slitherwing, Roaring Moon, Iron Moth, Iron Valiant identified in footage. >>

* Clavell’s Gyrados identified in footage. >>

Sada sends Arven an email. >>

12 Masterballs have been recently 3D printed. >>

* “Locate Clavell” Search query reveals Clavell facing off Sada and Turo’s Koraidon and Miraidon. >>

*Alternate Zero Lab Footage located. Clavell is injured. 4 other videos remain locked. >>

TBC! :D it’ll be a while till the conclusion, meanwhile I hope y’all are enjoying this little ride into delving into these characters’ history together/lore.

#director clavell #professor sada #professor turo #zerotrioshipping #clavell x sada x turo #clavell/sada/turo #//i am enjoying the use of an ask blog to tell a story extremely muvh #//haven't done much rp yet #//but this plot is so fun to slowly unveil haha

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