#libido is a work of art and i need you all to suffer with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yodawgiherd · 3 years

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Thunderspear

>>>Read on AO3<<<

I totally forgot to crosspost the new chapter of my story yesterday, blame the leaks and the memes that those created :D

The hospital was busy, as it always was, yet Eren had trouble focusing. Here he was, back as functioning member of society after having a hedonistic break over the weekend. Sure, he lost the endurance contest to Mikasa but with her being an Ackerman and a professional athlete he would lie in saying that he didn’t see it coming. Then again, who cares who won, when the free time was spent doing what they were doing. Mikasa made even eating fun, and Eren smirked when he remembered licking ice-cream from her defined abs yesterday evening. When she complained about the cold, he apologized like the perfect gentleman before dumping the next scoop right on her left nipple.

No, get these thoughts out, no more thinking about the pretty contrast they made, when his tanned skin rubbed against her porcelain one, or the stark difference between the blackness of the ropes and the whiteness of her body. It wasn’t easy for Mikasa either, half a city away, because keeping your mind away from the memories was nigh impossible. Eren was so good with the rope, he managed to create beautiful patterns while making it look so easy, effortlessly integrating other toys into it too. Among other things, it was the spreader bar between her legs, rope around her torso, and Mikasa remembered being unable to move an inch which put her straight to cloud nine. She tried returning the favor, but her ropework was clumsy at best and while she managed to restrain Eren, it was nothing compared to what he could do. He created art with her body and was damn proud of it too. Wanting to see herself from his perspective, Mikasa asked him to snap a few pictures of how she looked in those intricate designs, and she still had them saved on her phone. Scrolling through them while having a lunch break was far from the correct workplace etiquette, but Mikasa couldn’t help herself.

In the hospital, Eren was guilty of the same sin, sitting in the break room while his fingers gently stroked the screen of his phone. While Mikasa was swooning over his bondage skills, Eren told her that a great deal of the act was her doing too. It was Mikasa’s toned body that allowed him to create these beauties, bend her in all those angles knowing that she could take it. She was the perfect model, the peak specimen, with strong arms and legs, incredible thighs and all the lean muscles that bulged under her flawless porcelain skin, not even mentioning the ass that was to die for. She was so strong, yet so delicate, her trusting Eren enough to let him tie her up was a privilege he treasured. What an amazing experience that was, any time it happened.

God damn it, now he was sporting a boner in the break room. Eren mentally slapped himself with a clear message to his libido - back to work. He had a lot on his plate today, not only the usual but in the afternoon he was expected at Hizuru for a meeting with Kiyomi. Only a tad bit intimidated by the old lady, Eren was very glad that Mikasa promised to meet him in the lobby and show him the way because just seeing her filled him with strength. Other people had lucky charms, he had his wonderful girlfriend.

His shift went fine, with only Ymir and Onya doing some mocking comments when they noticed the bruises on Eren’s neck left behind by Mikasa’s affections, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Before long, he was on his way to the agency. Once there, it was the matter of finding a parking spot and going inside, and Eren entered the same world that Mikasa got into.

The lobby was big, much bigger than Eren expected. Luckily, he wasn’t forced to do such a humiliating thing as asking for directions because a familiar figure pushed herself from the receptionist’s desk, where she was leaning, to make a line straight for him. Mikasa looked a bit strange today, her clothes were done in a futuristic cut and the jacket even had small led lights in it. It did fit together with the red stripe in her hair, so whoever made the decision for her to dye it was good at his job.

“I take it that you are working on the cyberpunk thing today?”, he asked when she came closer.

“What gave it away?”, her lips, painted purple for some reason, curled upwards.

“A simple hunch, nothing more.”

She didn’t answer that. Instead, her hands, purple nails too, he noticed, sneaked up into Eren’s collar and pulled down. Yanked down to her height, he was assaulted by a kiss that was most definitely more than the usual “Hello” one. Not one to question his fortune, Eren surrendered to her, letting her tangle her deft fingers into his hair while he anchored himself on her hips. The futuristic jeans she was wearing had little cutouts there, allowing him to stroke her porcelain skin directly, so maybe cyberpunk wasn’t such a bad fashion trend after all. When they finally broke apart, Mikasa was still wearing the satisfied smirk on her lips.

“Any reason for this?”, he asked, getting a firm shake of her head in return.

Eren didn’t need to know about the dreamy look that entered the receptionist’s eyes when he walked in. He didn’t need to know about the “Damn” the woman muttered under her breath while devouring him with her gaze. He didn’t need to know any of these things.

“Nope.”, she thumbed the corner of his mouth, purposely smearing the lipstick stain she left behind even more, “I’m just happy to see you.”

With that, she grabbed Eren’s hand and pulled him behind herself, passing very close to the reception. Petty, but who cares. Together, they made their way up to Kiyomi’s office, with Mikasa effortlessly navigating through the many corridors of the building. Eren was quite sure that he would have gotten lost even after getting the directions, so he was very glad that his fiancé had decided to save him.

Kiyomi was sitting behind a large desk in a throne-like chair, evocating the feeling of a director at the center of her power. What Eren noticed was that there were several pictures of his fiancé over her office, in various clothes, even a framed photo on Kiyomi’s desk. Apparently, he was not the only one bewitched by the beautiful martial artist. Seeing the two of them enter, Kiyomi narrowed her eyes at Mikasa.

“I didn’t realize that you are Mr. Yeager’s mother, Mikasa. Or is there other reason why he needs you at our meeting?”

Taking the hint, the raven let go of Eren’s hand.

“I’ll take my leave, but please be nice to him.”

“When am I not nice?”

Mikasa chuckled at that, pressing one last kiss to Eren’s cheek before disappearing through the door. When he sat down, the first thing Kiyomi did was hand him a wipe, gesturing at his face.

“Your girlfriend left a mark.”

Blood rising to his cheeks, Eren quickly cleaned himself to the best of his ability, getting the purple away from his skin. When he was deemed clean enough, Kiyomi nodded in satisfaction, letting Eren take the word. Free to speak, he decided to straight on tell her what he thought about this whole thing.

“I just want to tell you that I’m not thinking about a career change, this is a one-time thing for me.”

“I understand that.”

“Good, so when do we start shooting?”

“Today? Oh no Yeager, today we talk.”

“What about?”

“You see…”, Kiyomi’s eyes were trained at him, piercing through the mind, “I believe that you should get the most fitting setting for your photoshoot that I can provide, considering it is, as you said, a one-time thing. I want to talk to you and know exactly what is best for you individually, what will help my photographer get the most out of you.”

“The way you say it, makes me think that there is a much more to this job than meets the eye.”

“Most definitely. Anyone can snap a few pictures but what I aim at is to know your soul.”

No, that was not creepy at all.

“Okay…”

Seeing that he was taken aback by her intensity, Kiyomi went on.

“Look at Mikasa and tell me who in their right mind would ever want someone like her to be a model.”

“Are you saying that she’s not pretty enough?”

Kiyomi shook her head.

“We both know that her body was never a problem and her face is flawless - Mikasa is physically perfect. Her mind, that is a different story altogether. She is too rigid to work with, too closed up.”, the old woman tapped the side of her head, “Still, I knew that there was a diamond hidden inside, and I commissioned my best digger to get it out. It took time and effort, I won’t deny that, but the results are oh so worth it.”

Sitting back, the tycoon continued.

“Mikasa is a beautiful soul, and while she has trouble expressing herself when she does the emotions are incredibly powerful. She isn’t my best girl just because of how she looks, but also because of how she can feel herself into the scene, only a few other models can do it so perfectly. I attended several of her photoshoots, and I agree with Dot when he says that Mikasa could be a grade-A actress if she put her mind to it.”

“I don’t think she would be into that.”

“I agree, that is too much exposure for her liking. But this job, this is just the right amount. Mikasa has fire in her, and she can be incredibly creative when she wants to, but she hides it. It’s the same thing as her beauty, she doesn’t flaunt it at all. I don’t think I remember a single occasion when Mikasa came to work wearing something else than comfortable clothes. Also, it doesn’t help that she keeps dressing in that long-dead style.”, Kiyomi pursed her lips, saying the next word as if it would be an insult, “Goth.”

“What’s wrong with being comfortable?”

“Some of us keep up with the fashion trends, it’s more or less expected in this business.”, she sighed, “I won’t lie, it changes so fast that it’s almost a suffering.”

While not so sure about the suffering, Eren was inclined to agree on that first part. Despite her being the ice queen and all, Mikasa could be very playful, if their private adventures were any indicator. Looking back, one could label them as dumb and childish, but he couldn’t care less. He had fun, Mikasa had fun, and damn what anyone else would think about it. They weren’t invited in the first place.

“Here,”, Kiyomi was just saying, “Look at these.”

She placed two photos in front of him, both of Mikasa. In one, she was wearing her workout gear, sports bra and shorts, with her fists raised. In the second, she was in that cyberpunk getup Eren just saw her in.

“This is the first photo we have of Mikasa,”, Kiyomi tapped the workout picture, “And the other is the last one so far. Can you see the difference?”

To an untrained eye, it wouldn’t be that obvious, but Eren was very familiar with Mikasa’s face. In the first one, she was still doubtful about this whole thing, her expression was tight and reserved, even though the clothes she was modeling were something she was wearing practically every day. In the last one, the raven was much more relaxed, leaning on a bike and looking into the camera with a cocky expression, one eyebrow raised.

“I can see that she is really into it now, that you’ve managed to dig out that diamond.”, he told Kiyomi, “But I still don’t know why you are showing me this.”

“So you can see for yourself that I’m not talking out of my ass. I really do want to capture you in your best light Eren, and I am very good at finding it. Trust me with this, I can make this whole thing work. If someone as reserved as your girlfriend could find working for me fun and fulfilling, why couldn’t you?”

The spark that was in Kiyomi’s eyes when she spoke about Mikasa made Eren wonder just how much the old woman loved her leading girl.

“You really like working with her.”

“And who wouldn’t? She is so inspiring! Martial arts were always dominated by men and for an understandable reason. The male body has much higher muscle mass than us women, they are built that much better for fighting.”, Kiyomi ran her hand down the framed picture of Mikasa, almost lovingly, “Yet there she is. Standing in the ring, head held high and fists raised, knocking anyone who tries her on their ass – man, woman it doesn’t matter to her. A female, yet destroying anyone and anything in her way, stronger and faster than a normal human being.”

Mikasa wasn’t lying when she said that Kiyomi can get excited rather easily. Her eyes were full of emotion when she spoke, voice filled with awe.

“She had to work that much harder to get where she is, to overcome the genetic difference, and she did it so perfectly. She is a goddess, Eren, a warrior like no other, and I hope you know that.”, suddenly, her eyes bore into his, “You are treating her with the respect she deserves, aren’t you?”

The chill that ran down Eren’s spine reminded him of the one he got any time Mikasa used her murderous glare at him. God damn it, were these two women related?

“O-Of course.”, he blurted, “She deserves only the best.”

“That’s correct.”

And just as it appeared, the look was gone and Kiyomi was once again an energetic old lady.

“It is very good to see that you understand just how incredible Mikasa is.”

“I know. Sometimes I wake up and wonder why an angel like her would ever grace me with her presence.”

“Would you say that she has a positive effect on your life?”

“I would say that she is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Good, good. Looks like the boy was exactly as taken with Mikasa as Kiyomi wanted him to be, if there was one thing she despised it was ugly break-ups. Those always generated way too much of unwanted press, because journalists loved jumping at vulnerable young people and profiting from their misery.

“Ah, but don’t sell yourself that short.”

Eren’s brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“You, my dear boy, are also fascinating.“

“Why is that? Last I checked I’m not knocking guys thrice my size down on their asses.”

“No, you don’t, but you have other qualities.”, Kiyomi leaned backwards in her throne-chair, “When I was signing Mikasa up, I had those closest to her checked out, so I know quite a bit about you.”

Eren couldn’t help but wonder at that.

“Checked out? Why?”

“I’m very careful about who I sign up to lead my collections. Any sort of past mistakes that could be dug up could end up hurting my brand. And nobody hurts my brand if I can help it.”

“Understandable.”

Kiyomi rewarded his open mind with a smile.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I know quite a bit about you.”, she pointed at him, the gold ring on her long finger glistening, “You were born into wealth, Eren, with the assets your father left behind you and Carla could have been sipping drinks at the beach while drowning in supermodels.”

“Technically, I have one at home now.”, Eren chimed in, but Kiyomi ignored that jab in favor of her narrative.

“But did either of you do that? No. Your mother started a charity and is working tirelessly for a better world while you chose one of the most stressful professions there is. Why?”

“I like helping people.”

“Because…?”

“The thought of someone being limited by an illness or an injury does not sit well with me. I want to free people from the burden, to help them live to their fullest. If that is not enough, then my father was also an inspiration, I wanted to follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s a noble goal.”

“I don’t see it like that.”

“Doesn’t make it any less noble.”

Eren shrugged, but Kiyomi didn’t mind. She already had all the info she needed.

“Eren, would you mind if we turned your photoshoot into a couple one?”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that it would go better if we let you and Mikasa work together, show some chemistry.”, Kiyomi leaned forward, “From what I’ve heard, I imagine that she is a very big part of your life.”

“She most certainly is.”

“Then would that be a problem?”

“A problem? No, of course not.”, Eren ran a hand through his hair, chuckling nervously, “Honestly, I’m relieved that she will be there with me.”

“Very good, then it's settled.”, standing up, Kiyomi offered her hand “Yelena will get in touch with you about the exact date.”

And after Eren shook it and left the office, she picked up her phone dialing a familiar number.

“Dot? I have the perfect setup for this thing. What? No. Shush and picture this - We are going to create a little apocalypse for them.”

A few days passed. The last preliminary match was done yesterday, and in all honesty it was fairly easy. Mikasa breezed through it and put her opponent on his back in just a few rounds, taking the first spot in the qualifier and solidifying her position in the Vegas finals. She didn’t get hit at all really, too fast for the poor guy, which meant that right the next morning she was back at the gym, working on herself. The door to the office opened and Levi emerged, crossing the distance to where she was. They nodded at each other in a form of greeting.

“Any tips about yesterday?”

“Not really, you breezed through the match exactly as I expected. The thing I came to talk to you about is that technique I asked you to develop, have you been working on it?”

“I did think about it, but I somehow can’t come up with anything I need.”, she sat up on the bench, eyes meeting Levi’s, “Any ideas?”

“That’s the thing, we reached the point where you have surpassed me when it comes to fighting.”

“What, you want to stop being my trainer?”

Levi barked out a laugh.

“Of course not, I’ll keep drilling you for a long, long time. But when it comes to this, I feel like it is something that you have to develop mostly on your own with only some tips from me.”

“Fine.”, Mikasa shrugged, “So, want to throw those my way?”

“First of all, I think that whatever you do, it has to be a kick, not a punch. For obvious reasons.”

It was easy to see what Levi meant. Kicks are inherently stronger than punches, and with the beasts Mikasa was about to face, she would need to deliver the most damaging hits she could do.

“Next,” Levi went on, “It should be aimed to surprise, to stagger and to crack the armor these guys have. Like Reiner, you’ve watched his matches right?”

“Yea, when he turtles, it’s like he’s not feeling the opponent’s hits at all.”

“That’s his thing, he calls it the “Armor”.”

“How does it work?”

“It’s quite simple. He’s a big guy, and with the muscles Reiner developed, he can shrug off anything that gets thrown at him in the ring. As long as he protects his vitals, which he does in that stance, he’s practically invincible. Too heavy to throw, too stable to trip. And don’t forget that he trains with Annie, so he won’t underestimate you. At all.”

“And the more you hit him, the more frustrated you get and open yourself up to counters.”, Mikasa added.

“Exactly. So you need something that will shatter his armor, get through that defense and allow you to do damage.”

A kick, one strong enough to get through Reiner’s armor. Mikasa felt like she could do it, but one doubt kept nibbling at the back of her mind.

“Won’t a kick open me up?”, she asked, “It’s a lot slower than a punch.”

“Not if you do it fast enough. Your speed is your best weapon, there is no way in hell you can match fighters like Reiner or Fahkumram in strength. You are already fast, but you need to be even faster and convert that into the kick – speed is force, after all.”

“All right, I’ll start working on it then. Oh, and shouldn’t a new technique have a name?”

Levi’s eyes that rolled up and the unamused look on his face gave her the answer even before he spoke.

“I feel like you are playing way too many videogames with Eren.”

But Mikasa wouldn’t be deterred so easily.

“How about Armor Cracker? Or…”, she tried a practice kick, the air whooshing around her leg, “Wind breaker?”

“That sounds like a fart.”

“You are not exactly helping.”, she frowned at her brother, “Come on, you must have some ideas.”

“A-really-fast-kick?”

“Levi, you have the imagination of a politician.”

Mikasa kicked the air again, thinking.

“Galeforce! Or Stridebreaker! Or…”

“Thunder Spear!”

Turning to where the voice came from, Mikasa saw Hange standing there with a huge smile plastered to her face.

“I LOVE creating new names, you have to let me have this one.”, she said, a polar opposite to Levi’s attitude, “It fits too, wouldn’t you say?”

Technically, Mikasa could see her legs as spears. And the power of the kick would have to be explosive to crack Reiner’s amor, and thunder was an explosive force. In short, it was a good name, fitting.

“All right, Thunder Spear it is then.”

Hange’s smile got even wider, but it was Levi who spoke.

“Fine, whatever. Now don’t forget to develop this Thunder Spear of yours, or Reiner will have a field day once you two meet in Vegas.”

The finals were creeping ever closer, and the monsters Mikasa had to fight would be all there, the ones she would have to defeat to reach the top. To do so, she would have to hone this Thunder Spear of hers to the highest possible quality.

Armin felt nervous when opening his email lately, the feeling caused by the several ongoing dialogues he had with various publishers. His book was finished, and now it was the time to see if anyone would print it. Eyes rowing over the lines of text, his blues widened when he read the title of his newest e-mail. Re-reading it, just to be sure, Armin felt a wave of excitement wash over him.

“You okay?”

The two words almost made him jump before he realized that Jean was there, looking at him over the rim of his notebook. They were spending a lot of time together lately, and while Armin had a suspicion that the entity of Eren and Mikasa asked Jean to keep an eye on him, he honestly didn’t mind. They haven’t talked much in college, since Armin was busy being the glue that kept his two best friends together and Jean was out doing his own thing. He learned a lot in a few days, about the career Jean made in marketing and the business he had set up, designed in a way that it was more-or-less autonomous at this point. As long as he had access to the internet, Jean could manage it from anywhere on the planet. Which meant that the move he had recently, one that was supposed to be a short-term before the whole thing with Hitch happened, didn’t affect him in the slightest.

Instead of answering the question, Armin turned his laptop towards Jean, letting him read the mail for himself.

“Finally! I knew this is going to happen! Who is that again…”, taking the name of the publisher, Jean ran it through the search engine, jumping a few websites to get an overall picture.

“Looks trustworthy, but their marketing is kinda ass. I’ll get int touch with them and see if they would like any help in that area.”

“You would do that?”

Jean smirked.

“Count on me Armin, I’ll make this thing into a bestseller.”

The moment they shared was interrupted when Armin’s eyes moved down to see the clock in the corner of his screen.

“Oh damn, I have to run, I have lunch with Mikasa.”

“Don’t let me keep you.”, Jean laughed, fingers dancing over the keyboard, “And say hello for me.”

One frantic car ride later, Armin was sitting at the restaurant and telling the exciting news to Mikasa.

“I had an e-mail from a publisher. Believe it or not, people actually want to print my book!”

“Why wouldn’t I believe it? I knew you had it in you Armin.”, she clapped him on the shoulder, enthusiastic, “That’s amazing news!”

“Thanks, I still have to wrap my head around it myself, that it’s happening. I wish I could take it as easy as Jean, the moment I told him he was already planning a marketing campaign for the book.”

“You should let him help, he’s a god when it comes to promotion, both Levi’s gym and the Third Wheel benefited from his work. In fact, I think that I have a gift for you too.”

“Really? It’s not even my birthday.”

“The billboard Kiyomi gave me, I want you to have it.”

“I couldn’t….”

Mikasa didn’t let him finish.

“I won’t take no for an answer Ar. I don’t need my face plastered all over it, it’s kind of strange driving past it on my way to the gym.”

“Can I even use it?”

“Why couldn’t you, it’s mine. I’ll talk to Kiyomi and have her set me up with the people who can change it properly.”

“I-… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Then don’t. If your story will have success that’s more than enough for me.”

They talked about various things, catching up and whatnot. One question kept dancing in the back of the raven’s mind, the one that wasn’t satisfied, not even when Jean reported that Armin is doing great. Swallowing the food, Mikasa manned up and went for it.

“Have you thought about Annie?”

Slowly, Armin put down his fork and folded his hands, expression tightening.

“I did. But I still have no idea what to tell her once I see her again.”

The spark in Armin’s eyes, the want in his voice, it made Mikasa realize that she wasn’t completely honest with him about everything that transpired. He was one of her best friends, and he deserved to know the truth, despite how ugly it was. So, taking a deep breath, Mikasa pushed it out.

“There’s something you don’t know Ar… That night... I found Annie after saving you.”

“You did what?”

“ I was so angry, so pissed at her, I just had to see her. I found her in a park, we fought and I…”, Mikasa’s eyes dropped back to her hands, unable to meet Armin’s gaze.

“I almost beat her to death.”

“W-What?”

“I couldn’t stop myself. You almost… You nearly… We almost lost you Ar. I almost lost you. The pain in me was too fresh, too deep, I had to get it out.”, Mikasa’s voice was full of guilt and suffering when she continued, “You don’t even know how much I value you, how much Eren values you. You are incredibly important to us both.”, she clenched her fists under the table, “I know that this isn’t the high school, but I will do anything in my power to protect you, I’ll beat any bullies who dare hurt you.”

Despite all this, Armin could feel that Mikasa had more.

“There is still something you are not telling me.”, he said in a soft voice, making her nod.

“She came to the gym, a few weeks after the incident, said that she wanted to talk to you.”, Mikasa couldn’t meet Armin’s eyes, she stared at her hands instead, “I told her to fuck off. You were so vulnerable back then… I-I couldn’t let her hurt you again.”

“Hey, Mikasa? Look at me please.”

She did, fearful of what she will see in those ocean eyes. Armin had every right to hate her for what she had done, she overstepped her boundaries and in her overprotective manner sent Annie away. Yet what she saw wasn’t blame, and it felt like a giant weight off her shoulders.

“I wasn’t ready to see her back then, so I think that you acted right.”, he put his hand on the table in an offering that Mikasa took, covering his hand with her own.

“Thank you.”, Armin said, meaning every word, “Thank you for protecting me, and more importantly thank you for being honest.”

“I’m sorry..”

“Don’t apologize. What’s done is done, and now we can only move forward.”

Even embarrassed as she was, Mikasa had to smile at that.

“Move forward? Did you get that phrase from Eren?”

“He says that a lot doesn’t he. That and the thing with setting people free from their injuries, sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a….”

“Serial killer.”, Mikasa finished for him, “Eren does emit that feeling when he is like that.”

Thumbing the engagement ring on her finger, Armin had an idea.

“Tell me, if Eren was a serial killer, would you still date him?”

“Most likely, if he was as hot as he is now.”

Armin blinked up, looking at Mikasa’s face that was completely serious as she continued.

“After all, killing is probably not even that hard.”, she clicked her tongue, “I’d imagine it’s like slicing meat, and that is my specialty.”

She kept the straight face for another ten seconds, and each felt like an hour to Armin. Mikasa talking about murders was somehow terrifying, the look she had chilled him to the bone, and knowing that she is the strongest person he knew didn’t help. Just as he was about to start being seriously afraid, the expression broke and Mikasa laughed, hiding her mouth behind a hand.

“You should see your face!”, she squeezed out, “It’s so pale!”

Armin grumbled, pulling his hand back and overall acting hurt for about two seconds before Mikasa snapped a quick picture of him and damn, he really was pale.

“Keep the killing out of our conversation and we can have a nice lunch, what do you say?”

She smiled, picking up the fork again.

“Okay, but only because it’s you, Mr. Big-shot writer.”

He groaned, she laughed again but obeyed and kept the murderous references to the minimum. It was a nice day, yet she had no idea what the night had in store for her.

Mikasa woke up in cold sweat, her hand automatically reaching over to the other side of the bed only to find it empty. The rush of fear that jumped up in her heart threatened to overwhelm her completely, to make her scream out in panic before Mikasa’s brain started working. Eren was at work, pulling a night shift. He would come back in the morning. There was nothing to be scared about. Breathing, in and out, she pulled her legs to her chest and hugged them, forming a small ball. Here, hidden inside herself, she could shield her thoughts from the outside world and replay the nightmare in her head.

The dream was terrible. She remembered Sasha being dead, she remembered her grave and herself sitting next to it, quietly sobbing into her scarf. She remembered being on a boat, going somewhere, and she remembered flying, talking with Jean about got knows what. There was an underlying feeling to the whole dream, a terrible dread and sadness, washing it all in shades of black.

Blindly, she reached out, taking her phone and staring at it. Who could she call to make herself feel good again? Eren was at work, and while he would most likely take her call he couldn’t just sit in the hospital talking to his crazy girlfriend after she had another nightmare. Knowing how he was, Eren would probably take off and come home to her, and Mikasa didn’t want that. She hated feeling like a burden. Without thinking, her fingers scrolled until she tapped a familiar name, putting the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?”, said the sleepy voice on the other end, “Miks? Is something wrong?”

“Sasha.”, she said, intertwining her fingers with her toes, “I just couldn’t sleep and realized we haven’t talked in some time. So, want to grab a lunch tomorrow?”

The girl on the other side laughed, and just the sound of it, knowing that she is safe and very much alive filled Mikasa with warmth.

“Sure, I’ll never say no to free food.”

Hours later, they were sitting at the restaurant Mikasa picked. But while Sasha was content with eating, as she usually was, the raven kept checking up on her friend, the remnants of the nightmare still fresh in her mind. It reached the point where she just had to ask, no matter how dumb it did sound.

“Are you feeling okay? Is everything fine?”

Sasha looked up from her food, eyes narrowing.

“Is this about the dreams again?”

Mikasa pressed her lips into a thin line before nodding, knowing that she was acting unreasonably. Of course, Sasha knew about her night terrors, they were roommates for a long time and friends even longer. Embarrassed by her overprotectiveness, Mikasa looked away and was just about to apologize when Sasha reached out, taking a hold of her hand.

“Listen Miks, everything is great for me. I’m good, my pub is doing well, and sometimes I could swear that I feel something in my legs.”

“You do?”

“Yes, although it’s nothing to celebrate yet, my doctor said that it might be just a way how my brain rewards itself for all the physical therapy I’ve been doing.”

She squeezed Mikasa’s hand.

“But the most important thing is that I am very fine, no matter what your dreams told you.”

“I think I needed to hear that. Thank you.”

“Listen, why don’t I cheer you up even more.”, meeting Mikasa’s confused eyes, Sasha went on, “I’ll call the other girls, have a night out, what do you say?”

Well, why the hell not? It has been some time since she was out, and it was always nice to talk to Krista and Ymir, despite the latter’s double-edged comments. You know what, scratch that – it was always nice to talk to Krista. Period. Her preliminary matches were done too, meaning that the self-imposed alcohol ban was over.

“Sure, let’s do that.”, Mikasa agreed, much to Sasha’s glee.

They got quite a band together, with both Ymir and Krista coming. Even Hitch found a hole in her packed schedule, squeezing this event in. The only one who couldn’t make it was Hange, who apologized and said that she is way too swamped at work to be out drinking right now. With few hours to kill, Sasha and Mikasa hit the town. Between the senseless shopping and raiding all kinds of places, Mikasa found herself laughing a lot, the thoughts of Annie and tournament gone from her head. And when they were taking a break, eating ice cream on a bench, she realized that it was way too long since they had done this. Because knowing that Sasha is alive and well, hearing her laugh, that soothed Mikasa’s soul. When the day was ending and the shadows grew tall, it was time to head to the bar and meet up with the others. Which also meant getting bombarded by Ymir’s “tactics” about how Mikasa should fight.

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, blast them with concentrated energy?”

Ymir made the motion with her hands, imitating the sounds too. Mikasa sighed, putting her glass back on the table.

“This is not dragon ball Ymir.”

“Still, I feel like you are making it overly complicated. You want to kick them, just kick them!”

“I need to figure out the best angle, and have my body put enough strength behind it on its own because I don’t think that my mind can keep up, and….”

“Blah blah. As I said,”, Ymir poked Krista who seemed to be listening to Mikasa’s ranting, “way too complicated. Now Eren, that guy had a lot of interesting things to say.”

Mikasa very quickly connected the dots and realized what Ymir was talking about, her cheeks reddening. Ymir wouldn’t talk about that here, would she?

“What things?”, a new voice asked.

The trio jumped up, none of them noticing that Sasha had sneakily wheeled herself close. She was looking at them now, her eyes wide and innocent, sipping on her drink with a straw.

“What interesting thing are you guys talking about?”, she repeated.

Mikasa stared at Krista, Krista stared at Mikasa, Sasha stared at them all and Ymir was the only one who wasn’t bothered by it at all. She took a casual sip of her drink, a smirk on her face.

“We asked Mikasa if she wanted to have a threesome with us.”

There was stunned silence after. Krista was the one who woke up first, punching her girlfriend in the shoulder, a movement she had done so many times that it was practically mastered at this point.

“Ymir.”, she hissed, “What the hell?!”

Mikasa’s eyes ticked between the three faces in front of her, unsure how to respond to such a statement, and it was Sasha who reacted first. She looked the raven up and down before giving a respectful nod.

“Okay, I can see why you would want that.”

“What?”

“I know right.”, Ymir nodded, wise all of a sudden, “And it’s not like you can’t choose, if you are more into guys, I’m sure that Hitch and Jean would take you.”

“Hitch would do what?”, asked the woman in question, appearing from the bar and carrying her drink.

“Have a threesome with Mikasa.”, Sasha explained.

The therapist met the raven’s bewildered eyes before sliding her gaze over her face and down.

“Sure, I’d go for it.”

“Hitch!”, now it was Mikasa who was hissing, her cheeks red, “You too?”

“Of course, have you ever looked in the mirror?”, the light-haired woman gave her a sly wink, “I’d most definitely go for you.”

“Same here.”, Sasha chimed in.

“Us too.”, Ymir added, while Krista was hiding her face in her hands, wishing to be gone.

Mikasa was suddenly very conscious of all the eyes on her, no idea how to react. Since when did all her friends become so horny for her?

“Listen, I-I a-appreciate the offers, but I’m not looking for anything right now. Eren is enough, more than enough.”

“Hey, no one is pressuring you.”, Sasha said, raising her glass, “But if you ever grow bored of the good doctor, know that there’s plenty of us you can call.”

The night continued in a relaxed manner, now that the unnecessary proposals were off the table. Catching up felt good, knowing that her friends were still there and living their best life. Ymir and Krista were the dynamic duo, Hitch was the one with clever comebacks, and Sasha was the life of the party. For once, Mikasa let go and simply had fun. Because it was fun sending drunken selfies to Eren, Connie and Jean, to let them know how much they are missing. The only thing that bothered her was the way Sasha kept checking her phone as if she was waiting for something. When asked, she just brushed it aside, which prompted Mikasa’s protective instincts to act.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Sasha smiled at her, pocketing the phone she was checking. Again.

“Of course, we are best friends, aren’t we?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, best friend, if you feel so inclined, how about you grab me another drink?”

Mikasa giggled but took her glass anyway, walking towards the bar. And when Sasha leaned back, a smile playing on her lips, her phone decided that it was finally the time to beep. Checking, she could see that there was a text from Niccolo, just two words, but it made her heartbeat rise. Because those two words, that was exactly that Sasha was waiting for.

“It’s time.”

Every pause must come to an end, and the action will resume. The next morning found Mikasa back at the gym, trying and failing with the new technique. The bag swayed with her kick, leather creaking, but it wasn’t it. The angle was wrong. The power was not enough. It wasn’t finished, far from it. Mikasa groaned in frustration, trying again, but nothing changed. She lacked the spark, the something that would allow her to pump out the power required for the Thunderspear. Her body was capable of producing the kick, she knew she could do it, but it was not happening. Maybe she was feeling lazy, maybe the recent victories gave Mikasa too much of an ego. As it was now, she would never break through Reiner. In her mind’s eye, she saw him standing right there, a smug smile on his lips as he effortlessly shrugged off her attacks. Closing her eyes, Mikasa massaged her temples to stave off the headache that was slowly creeping up. She was frustrated, pissed off, angry at herself.

“Need any help?”

She turned, startled, only to meet the eyes of a tall individual.

“Jean? What are you doing here?”

“Hitch said that you will most likely be training again, and I thought that I could go for a workout as well. It was some time since I flexed my muscles.”, he pointed at the abused bag, “And I can see that you are struggling with something.”

“I’m trying to create a new kick that will break through strong guards. But I can’t get it to work, I feel like I don’t have the motivation or something…”

“Here.”, Jean climbed up, jumping into the ring, “How about you try it on me instead?”

Well, it was better than kicking the bag for no reason. It was probably even better than if Eren would be here to help, because while Levi insisted that he has a very “kickable” face, Mikasa strongly disagreed. Her emotional attachment could block her from going all out. Of course, Jean was her friend, but there is a difference between the love of your life and a good friend. Jean was taller than Reiner and way skinnier, but at least he was a human and it was easier to imagine the German tank standing there.

“Let’s just do some sparring, get pumped up.”, Mikasa suggested.

They did so, trading punches back and forth, while the raven tried her best to come up with the right move for her Thunderspear. Jean did his best, with the basic Krav Maga he knew, but it was not enough to even get her winded. Understandably so, she was the prodigy here. A prodigy who can’t even kick hard enough. Gritting her teeth, Mikasa stared at Jean, imagining the blond head of Reiner. The muscles, the sure and steady legwork, the cold expression, the short yet incredibly well-balanced body, the hooked nose and startlingly blue eyes and… wait. That was not Reiner she was imagining. That was Annie. The familiar cold filled her, the one she felt only once, back in the rain when she almost killed her. On that terrible night when she almost lost Armin. The rage was back, not burning but freezing, filling her with ice.

But the last nudge that happened didn’t come from her memories of Annie, that came from Jean’s face. Watching it, Mikasa’s mind was flooded with those strange dreams, the flashbacks from another lifetime, her headache back in full force. She could smell the burning bodies, she could hear destruction. Jean was next to her, dressed in a black uniform, his mouth moving and forming words she had trouble understanding. Only two were crystal clear – “Kill” and “Eren”.

Kill Eren? No, she wouldn’t do that, no matter what kind of different life that was. She would never hurt the man she loved, her fiancé. If that wouldn’t be enough, her heart throbbed with pain when the thoughts of Sasha resurfaced, claiming that something terrible happened to her, worse than the shooting accident she was in. As if her former roommate and one of her best friends died, and that left a hole in Mikasa’s heart. The feeling was still strong, despite the lunch they had together and the night out. Whatever these memories were, wherever they came from, those combined with her rivalry with Annie and clicked together, sneaking through her brain and unlocking the hidden capabilities of her body.

Was it stupid? Maybe, but it didn’t matter. Mikasa knew that neither of these terrible tragedies happened. She knew that Sasha was alive and well, she knew that there was nothing in this world that was forcing her to kill Eren. This remnant of her past life, or a random thing that her mind made up, it was enough to push her over the edge. Just like that, Mikasa knew exactly what she had to do. And as the headache subsided, leaving only the bitter taste of the memories behind, her body overcame its limitations. Mikasa would do anything to prevent such a terrible fate befalling her friends, to protect them she was willing to go above and beyond. Roused by the nightmares, loaded by the unfair and terrible hardships her dream-self had to endure, the Thunderspear was ready to fire.

Jean must have noticed the change in her behavior too, because he stopped attacking, pulled back and went on the defensive. It was not enough. Mikasa aimed the Thunderspear in the middle of his torso, kicking right into Jean’s block which immediately cracked under the pressure. He was sent flying back, falling onto the ropes and sliding down like a ragdoll, boneless.

The drawback was immediately obvious. The kick was done with her whole body, all muscles working together to create such a strong blow. Once fired, Mikasa was hit by a wave of slight nausea as she swayed on her feet, almost doubling over. This wasn’t an attack that could be used freely - if she went for it and missed, Mikasa was open to any sort of counterattack. It took her a sweet moment to recompose herself, get her body back under control and realize that this wasn’t Annie she was fighting but her friend.

“Jean, are you okay?”, she quickly crossed the distance and fell to her knees, looking over his form.

“I... I think so?”, he grimaced, trying to sit up and failing at that, “Honestly, I sort of can’t feel half of myself. Holy shit your legs are strong.”

Scared that she hurt him for real, Mikasa did a quick checkup but her hands didn’t find any fractures. Jean sat up again, this time successfully, giving her a small nod to indicate that nothing permanent was inflicted. Relieved, Mikasa helped him stand, stabilizing his swaying with a hand around Jean’s shoulders.

“I think I finally managed to find the right angle.”, she said, getting a weak grin in answer.

“Glad I could help, but please don’t kick me like that again.”

“I won’t. And thank you, I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

“My dad should be around here somewhere.”, Annie was saying, looking left and right.

“It’s nice to have a ride off the airport.”, Reiner pointed out, “Saves on the taxi.”

The prospect of seeing her father again did leave a sour taste on Annie’s mind. She was not exactly sure that she was ready to forgive the man, despite her talk from earlier. The expression didn’t go unnoticed by Reiner, as he poked her shoulder with a grin.

“What’s wrong Annie? Thinking about that Mikasa girl again?”

“Oh my god, are you Mikasa’s fans as well? I heard you talking about her.”

Annie turned to meet the eyes of a young girl with shoulder-length light hair and an expression that was the definition of excited. There was a bag over the girl's shoulder and wheeled travel luggage behind her, indicating that she too had just arrived on the plane. What caught Annie’s attention was a magazine the girl was holding, because right there on the front page there she was. Her nemesis, if you will, Mikasa Ackerman in all her glory, dressed in her fighting gear and with her fists raised, steel-grey eyes staring right into Annie’s. The girl noticed where the blonde was looking, raising the magazine.

“This is one of the earlier issues, I’ve been re-reading them recently.”, she giggled, nervously, “I just love Mikasa so much, I can’t get enough. I watched every fight, every interview, read every word I could find. She’s just so great, isn’t she?”

As if remembering her manners, she finally introduced herself.

“I’m Louise, by the way.”

Annie wasn’t sure how to react when meeting the adoring fan of someone she was here to beat, but luckily Reiner stepped in, leaning over to the girl.

“The only interest we have in Mikasa is how to beat her.”, he gestured towards their little trio, “We are all fighters, here to take the tourney, so Ackerman is just another step on the road for us.”

Louise’s expression turned from an excited smile into a frown and she clutched the magazine close to her chest.

“There is no way any of you are beating Mikasa. She’s going to win because she is the best, you guys don’t stand a chance.”

Reiner grinned, spreading his hands.

“Guess we will see about that.”

Louise huffed, raising her head high and grabbing the luggage behind her. Turning, she walked away at a brisk pace, not sparing the blasphemers any more of her attention.

“Looks like the Ackerman girl is quite popular.”, Bert said, “More than I expected to be honest.”

“It’s not just fighting, she’s a model too.”, Annie remembered, “Appeals to the masses.”

“A model huh?”, Reiner put a hand on her shoulder, “Well, maybe she’ll have to consider a career change once you rearrange her face, isn’t that right Annie?”

But there wasn’t any burning hatred for Mikasa in Annie’s heart. She used the girl to motivate herself, yet she felt deep respect towards her. The raven was the only person as dedicated as Annie herself, the only one that understood the deep need to prove herself in this sport. Reiner and Bert, they were good friends, but they didn’t understand it, they never could. Yet she had to keep her appearances up, so despite herself, Annie grinned at the joke.

“Right.”

In the edge of her vision, a familiar figure appeared, and Annie shifted so she could see it better. Her father was there, waiting, leaning on a cane. He didn’t see them yet, giving Annie the time to study his anxious expression as his eyes scanned the airport, looking for his daughter. Was she ready to face him again? Did she want to? Then again, did she have a choice here?

“Oh look, it's your dad.”, Bert said, taking the choice away from her completely.

“Let’s go.”, Reiner decided for the group, casually throwing his heavy bag over a shoulder and walking towards the old man.

With Berthold following close behind, Annie gave up on her drama queen routine and forced her body to move too, trailing behind her mates.

#eremika #fanfic #snk #aot

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obsessionsposts · 4 years

Text

🔪Yan! 2p Italy hc's🥀:

T.W : Heavy description of tortures /non-con use of drugs / implied non-con / Dead dove: Do not eat / abuse/ Brainwashing / mental illness < I do not romanticize nor degrade it, if portrayed incorrectly I'll fix it > neglect / obsessive behavior / unhealthy behavior / Luciano himself / generally really really dark shit not for feint of heart.

X - First sighting: In a Nightclub, which was hosted by a rival mafia. His goal was to take care of his enemy,lest he ruins his "business".

Yet, He didn't find his prey. Frustrated and vexed, Luciano strode hurriedly pushing anyone in his way. However, He didn't expected to be called out by.... ,at first he thought a measle, a divine lady such as you.

At least, this failed ploy brought him a new bird for his enjoyment ; that will be inserted into a cage that she will never ever leave.

X- Infatuation: Her figure burned in his mind, Her fragrance stung his nose, Her sharp arched eyes haunts his dreams, and.......her mellifluous voice along with her gallant actions has attracted him so so badly.

Luciano hadn't an ounce of sleep since then,but was preoccupied planning to cage his only one. Smirking and laughing dauntly at the idea of possessing an angel, or much preferable a songbird that will sing a song of praise and adoration for him. Only him.

Yandere type: Possessive,Sadistic,Controlling.

Luciano values power above anything else , and that extend to his s/o. Anything that cements him power over his s/o , i.e. : marriage, is granted to happen whether the s/o has a choice is up to debate.

Another thing, he will nitpick his s/o willpower; so he could relish his power through this torment.

Speaking of torments, by god any misconduct - small or big - will be chastised through many forms of tortures.

Luciano is a major sadist (Not the worst,but bad enough to declare him as the second worst) and he gets off from the cries,screams, and begging from his pretty little pet ~ .

If anything, he anticipate her disobedience; so he could see the terrific fear running amok in her irises. Oh~ such a turn on and mark of possession.

Prepare to be dictated by a tyrant charismatic man who does see you as an object to fulfil his megalomanic fantasies cherishes and adore you to a degree that you're not aware enough; so much that he will buy the world for your whims .From your everyday clothes to your behaviour will fit his sick visionary criteria of an exhilarating trapped prisoner lady.

But, worry not you're irreplaceable to him. Aren't you happy to receive the recognition and courtesy of a man with high calibre as Luciano. You deserve only the best, and he is the best for you. Luciano will make sure of it.

X- Method of stalking and frequency of it ? Frankly, he is most likely to be busy, so he'll send his men to 'observe' you. However, if otherwise he will come and play on your fears giving you the false sense of security. Then he will take you out into a new world,where you'll be spoiled as long as you don't disobey him.

X- How do they treat their s/o ?

More of an object, where he can project all his desire on. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't care for you. If anything he truly does, however not in the conventional sense. More so the s/o is obedient, Luciano will mellow down and be much less paranoid and fanatical.

On these day, he will be much courteous and kind enough to let his darling out on a picnic,library, museums,etc....... . Also, they will drown in his wealth,company, and anything they wished for as long as she submits herself completely to him as he did to her.

+ Nickname for their s/o?

Anything that indicates possession over s/o and elegant names that suits his glorious s/o. Ex: My nightingale - My songbird - Mio amore- My dove - My Juliet, My bitch, mockingbird,etc....

Punishments:

Little Nightingale has been naughty! that simply won't do. Well, you forced his hands for what's going to occur to you now. However, Luciano is delighted to put both his best loved in action ; that is his expertise in torment and his treasure.

Most of his torture consists of physical, psychological, and slight sexual. However, he specializes and adores psychological because it relish his power and gives a boost to his narcasstic ego along with that the gorgeous cascade that runs from your engaging pupils and shrilling voice of a weeping angel.

Ego Fragmenting: This method consist of killling identity of oneself, usually by psychedelic drugs. Also, known as ego death. A process Luciano will make his darling undertake by forcing drugs that will eat slowly at her neurotransmitter such as: DMT,LSD,MDMA,and similar drugs. As it will alter her perception of reality making her valnurable - leaving her in a transcendence state- and in need of his assistant. Plus it's a sure way to kill a rebellious mockingbird.

Learned Helplessness: The process above will lead to this one which is another process,but worse.Learned helplessness is behavior exhibited by a subject after enduring repeated aversive stimuli beyond their control. After the s/o is subjected to different mindfucks and drugs she'll become more accepting and apathetic of what's happening to her rendering her from thinking of treason escape.

Classical Brainwashing: After his work of art is done. Luciano will start mending and twisting his s/o to make the greatest masterpiece of all. 'Now be a good little girl for me and sit in my lap and please me~. I know you in and out disobeying me will make me upset and you don't want that do you ~ ?'

Cat O' Nine: Luciano isn't above using this if you persist (somehow, by a will of a damn saint) even more and if you tried to escape. He'll beat out the common sense out of you until a rivulets of ruby-like substance come out of you. Lo and behold Such a wonderful sight ! (What a prick! If you ask me :/)

Degradation/non-con: By God, if s/o pissed him (mind you, he is short tempered. So, dont tread on thin ice)off beyond the breaking point...well...you're pretty fucked literally and figuratively. At this point, he pretty much take you without the consideration-no lubrication either-of your feeling because in the end you'll eat it like the fucking whore you are and you're his belonging whether you like or not. At this point, Luciano is self-indulgent and impulsive. (Basically, a sociopathic piece of shit. Good luck on escaping cause' you'll need it.) It is horrid as it is that he is paranoid enough that he locks his darling in a huge-ass bird cage and will deprive the comforts inside as punishment.

In Conclusion:

There is a saying that the apple never falls far from the tree. Well in this case, it true. The sadism and machiavellianism manifested form his grandfather,Titus, neglect and borderline-abusive parenting. As years grown, his condition got worse until he committed his first offence senicide to protect his brother and to gain the absolute power he always looked up for.

Despite the power he has, Luciano is much a coward when he lack his assists as he usually abuses his authority and sacrifice his pawns to gain whatever he want(instead of doing it himself). To put it simply a treacherous man-child throwing tempers.

His obessison for power and beauty stem from the poverty he and his brother suffered from his monster of a guardian. That's why his s/o boldness and that....enticing bodice brought the attention of a hungry-driven beast to a fierce doe.

Chances of escaping is low to diminished unless you're clever enough to trick the trickster himself. If by any miracle chance you did expect a multiple deaths in the area you're living and be arrested for a crime you've never committed. Plus, a raving monster the next day. Wonderful ! Is it not?!

He has a huge libidos, so good luck satisfying it. Most of the time,Luciano will take your consent apart from when he is in tantrums. In addition, before he have s/o, he used to have a flings and that stopped when he saw his beauty.

One of the most paranoid and fanatical yandere brought to you by detrimental childhood and not getting help™.

Unlike other yandere, Luciano lets his s/o come to him not the other way around by luring her into his heavenly trap. Also, Luciano is an excellent actor as he can hide his lecherous rage with his charming flirtatious attitude that is used as a mean to gain s/o before unveil how much of.... a bastard he is. A smooth bastard.

A behaving darling keeps the demon away ™.

"Then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams"

~ Monster by

Meg & Dia

A/n: I am sorry for the delay. Writer block is just horrendous. But, here you go hope you like it. Like usual pic doesn't belong to me.

#yandere fandoms #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere hetalia x reader #yandere x you #yandere hetalia #2p hetalia #yandere 2p hetalia #tw: mental manipulation #tw: yandere #tw: abuse #tw: violence #tw: torture #tw: toxic relationship #tw: brainwashing

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kamari333 · 4 years

Note

I had to actually look back to see if I made any tumblr posts about these guys. I couldn’t find any??? So I guess this is my oppertunity to scream about these absolute fucking bastards.

Now. Um. Forewarning: I don’t actually know a lot about the original dreamtale. Or, I don’t keep up with it, at least. I read the first origin comic (and a bit of the cream ship comic) one time a while ago and... i dunno. found it lacking? I liked the premise but there was something distinctly missing in it for me. So these headcanons are more like an AU (an AU of an AU, surprise surprise, I’m on my shit again XD) that I thought up to help me enjoy the concept more when writing it. I’ve been calling it ‘Dr33mtal3’ in my head, but a friend named it ‘Dryad Dreamtale’ so either of those names work.

So. Dream and Night are tree spirits shaped like skeletons, born of the tree of duality to be its guardians. They were made to be more like monsters to better protect the tree and put its power to use.

Now, plants and gods (and especially god-plants) have very different ideals, morals, and expectations than mortals and humans and monsters. Dream and Night are half plant/god, but they are also half monster/mortal, so they cannot relate entirely to their tree mom or completely understand her. Likewise, she could not completely understand them. Thus, the twins understandably had a stressful, dysfunctional childhood and have long lasting mommy/daddy issues.

They also suffer from significant other kinds of trauma inflicted on them by their villager guardians.

So they are both psychologically fucked up.

They both have “wings” and “tentacles” but Night hides his wings and Dream hides his tentacles. Night’s wings are smaller than Dreams.

they aren’t actually tentacles though. they are roots and vines. because they are tree spirits. using those roots/vines, they can directly soak up energy and water. likewise, the “feathers” on their wings are actually leaves (except near the base and ridges, which are more like flower petals). they use these leaves to breathe in ambient emotions.

when injured, they bleed resin. that goop on nightmare? excess sap/resin he’s overgenerating thanks to consuming so many apples.

usually only strong internal emotions would make them do that. its only because of such strong internal emotions that nightmare continues to do that even after a thousand years.

i think that, being plants (which are terribly spiteful and innovative creatures) night and dream can control the consistency and nature of their sap and resin. dream keeps his sweet and sugary at all times, but nightmare switxhes between spicy-like-ghost-pepper-in-the-face caustic and rubber, and mild maple syrup, depending on his mood and how much he wants the person he is touching to hurt.

i think that dream is both terribly selfish and painfully selfless all at once, both kind and cruel. i think he is a very seelie fae who will never break a promise, but will not let you go unpunished for breaking yours. i think he has no problem breaking your legs if it means saving you from something else. dream will happily beat someone within an inch of their life, then nurse them back to health, if he thinks for a moment it is for the greater good.

nightmare goes to great lengths to make people hate him. at the end of the day he is as disgusted with himself as anyone else, but he does it and will keep doing it because if no one fears him, they will destroy him. nightmare is a terrible unseelie fae, but he will never speak an untrue word or break an oath once struck. it is not in his nature. he will rule with an iron fist, but he is just as capable of selflessness as he is of cruelty.

i think dream is so concerned with the big picture he sometimes forgets little details. i think he is the type to take in strays before he has a home to keep them in. he befriends ink and ink makes him a multiverse home to keep his people safe in. dream then takes it upon himself to make sure it stays operational, despite eventually accumulating a city’s worth of people in what was originally a 4 bedroom townhouse. lucky him that ink has his back, continually expanding as needed.

i think nightmare is far more artistic and clever than folks give him credit for. i think he enjoys making things. i think he is the type of man to take great pride in building everything he has himself. his castle is made out of his own power: stone made of his own resin, hardened into amber; wood grown from his own bones; tapestries woven of textiles made from his own leaves, pets, and processed wood. his castle of black amber is constructed of his own blood, sweat, and tears, lovingly handcrafted art for him to live in. all natural. all his. (such a shame he never got around to furnishing all of it, having only enough time and drive to do the first floor with how long handweaving the carpets took; such a shame no one noticed or cared because the fear for their lives overshadowed any awe they could have had upon seeing the delicate craftsmanship of the arching ceilings and looming statues).

i think dream and night both love fresh water and sunlight. they get incredibly sleepy if its too hot or too cold. they are terrified of fire, squirrels, fungi, and insects. they dont like birds much either. they easily get jealous of other plants (comically so, to the point of sassing or threatening or passive-aggressively insulting non-sapient rose bushes or fica or succulents they come into contact with). they are scared of mistletoe (being a plant that eats other plants, kinda).

i hc that dream with faint dead on his feet if he gets too scared, and nightmare screams like a white girl in a horror movie.

i like to think that because they are trees, they have a “season” (like heat, but for trees) where they are very pro-affection. their leaves turn pink and they involuntarily cover themselves in pink pollen that drives nearby creatures’ libido into overdrive. neither brother likes this, so when their season hits they hide away so nobody notices (night because he does not want to seem weak, dream because he does not want to inconvenience anyone else).

i like to headcanon that a holdover from their human attributes means each brother can only formulate one set of sex organs. i’ll give you a hint: nightmare is trans in my hc (be gay do crime). he takes great pains to make sure nobody knows this.

i like to think that both brothers hide all of this, hide all of their tree-ness as best they can, and instead hide behind the aspects of being an angel and a tentacle abomination in order to throw off anyone who might look for weaknesses. so nobody knows what they really are.

These are all superficial HCs of course. The big thing is that i wanted their natures to be... more complicated than simply good and evil. They believe and say that they are guardians of positivity and negativity (and in a way thats true), but only in its most simplistic of forms.

Dream is the aspect of Giving: he radiates pollen and magical influence to embue those around him with his power. He can give them emotions. He eats positivity, thats what sustains him, but his power is to give. He could just as easily give his people bad feelings as good ones (not that he knows this). However, Dream only knows and cares about giving positivity. So he does. He leaves his magic and influence on the souls of anyone who will give him the oppertunity, and once the door is open, he will continually feed them his power to make them happy. He will eat/breathe that happiness, converting it to energy, perpetuating the cycle.

But unmitigated mania has its drawbacks. There is a price to be paid in the end.

Nightmare is the aspect of Taking. He takes and takes, taking the emotions and energy of others for himself. He can even take the entropy out of an injury to heal a wound. Nightmare can take positivd feelings out of others, but for some reason his body doesn’t like him doing that and makes him sick/hurt. He has a much easier time taking negativity, draining away the hurt and fear and exhaustion, leaving a calming emptiness behind. Nightmare cannot process or use everything he takes for himself, needing to expell it as a waste product. He converts negative feelings (and the wasted energy disipated through entropy) into energy, which lets him continue his taking.

You cannot fill a hole that is already filled, after all. You must empty it first.

These two aspects are neither good nor evil in and of themselves. There are good and bad things about them. But these aspects have been oversimplified and misinterpreted by those around the twins that even they themselves do not fully understand what it is that they are.

and i think a story about them coming to understand themselves would be so much more interesting than a simple story of good vs evil.

#kamari333answers #kamari333headcanon #dr33mtal3

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the-church-of-murdoc · 4 years

Note

Isn't it bad enough that you bow to the Enemy? You also take pride in being a Jezebel? Is this the legacy we've left behind? A child of Satan, the Anti-Christ? Do you really want to destroy us so badly?

My personal life, no matter how public I make it, isn’t a reflection on you. The way I live now isn’t an attack on you. I live the way I do, because it makes me happy. But you never cared what made me happy. But we’ll get to that. I sell MYSELF, not you. I give MYSELF to people of all genders for fun. I don’t do it to spit on your “image”. Who and what I am has got SHIT to do with you and your ilk. I’ve got a naturally high libido. I’m naturally pansexual. I’m naturally polyamorous. I didn’t choose any of these things. It’s just who and what I am by NATURE. To ignore those aspects of myself would destroy me...Not that you care. Not that you EVER cared. Even my relationship with Murdoc isn’t your fault. I saw those hips thrusting in the Rock The House music video, on TV at a friend’s house(in fact...I think it was Levi’s...Funny how that works) when I was 11, and I fell in love then and there...That moment saved my life...And then, he just happened to actually walk into my life when I was 27, and that’s that. But I don’t even worship Lucifer because of him....No...THAT particular ‘quirk’ of mine IS your fault...Without the shit you did to me, I’d be an atheist, or possibly a progressive Christian...I don’t know. But I KNOW I wouldn’t be a Satanist. No...It’s because of YOU, that I saw the evil underbelly of what following Christ REALLY offers. I couldn’t see the good in it after suffering what you did to me, what you allowed to happen to me. You ARE the reason I’m a Luciferian, so...Do take credit for that.

All that out of the way...While my life and personal choices aren’t (mostly) a reflection on you, the things you did to me ABSOLUTELY are. First of all, I had virtually no freedoms because you just wanted a future Stepford Wife for some guy in the church. You had my whole life planned out FOR me, with no consideration for who I was, who I liked, or what I wanted to be. I was to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, ready to protest essentially anyone at a moment’s notice for the simple crime of not being mindless drones like the people in our church. Sure, you gave me a bike, and I had rare breaks where I was allowed at friends’ houses...But all my friends were kids from the church. I didn’t go to public school. I wasn’t allowed to watch TV, or use a computer...I didn’t even have a phone. The single source of happiness I had when I was at home, other than Eve(who really was my saving grace until she died), was that fucking kaleidoscope...which you smashed in front of me, just because I asked too many uncomfortable questions...I would spend HOURS looking through that thing to escape your bullshit, and it was such an important part of my life, I wrote a goddamn rock ballad about it. And when I was 16, you got me a car...and tracked my every fucking move. Did you know I’d leave it in the church parking lot while I went around back to smoke before dousing myself in perfume? I know you didn’t want me to die like Eve did, but you also knew I was more rebellious than her. I know you’d have tracked me anyway. But I saw that device the first day I had that car. I just let it be. Why not? It worked in my favor. I could park at church, or at the grocery store, and do anything...I’d have probably slept around just to spite you, if I hadn’t been so damaged...but we’ll get to that.

Speaking of Eve, though...You should know, she would HATE what you’ve turned her legacy into. I don’t know how to start this delicately, so I’ll just get it out of the way...She was a lesbian. She even had a girlfriend...Remember Sarah? The girl who came to the funeral...? Eve met her at the grocery store on a run for you guys...They were together for a year...Of course, Sarah pretended to be her ‘friend’ for your sake, but I knew...Eve confided everything in me, and told me all about her girlfriend. Meanwhile, she never told you who she really was, because you would have rejected her...or worse. She died without you sick bastards knowing who she really was, because you taught her to hate herself. She had to hide, and she was just waiting, like me, to run and never look back. She never got that chance...But I did. She wanted to be a writer...She wanted to tell our story to the world. She wanted to expose you, and I followed her footsteps with my own style of art. I’m the one carrying her legacy. Not you.

The rest of the things you did to me are sensitive, and I’ve talked enough about it for the fans but please...Keep reading, because you fucking need to know what I went through at YOUR hands.

But before we get into the main meat of the shit you did to me...I know you didn’t know what James was like. I know you hired him to look after me, believing he was a good man, so I don’t blame you for what he did. That is PURELY his crime...But what you did to me afterword...THAT is unforgivable. Yes, I genuinely DO hate you. I have ever since you let my molester off with a slap on the wrist. Knowing he’s back in power, in a higher position than he was when he was “punished” makes me fucking sick. He should be in prison, rotting away with no chance of escape. And I’m sure you KNOW I’m not the only victim. He’s just learned to be more careful. I guarantee that. That’s the part that kills me the most...You didn’t just prove how evil you were to me...Your actions almost certainly opened multiple kids up to his grooming...But the statute of limitations is up. There shouldn’t even BE a statute of limitations on child rape, but as is, I can’t do shit about it now...Live with that. Let the guilt burn into your souls, and rot with that in your heads forever. It’s what you deserve. It eats me alive...In fact, for all the shit you did that only really affected my sister and me, the ONLY reason I’m so public about my past...is I want to destroy him. Not you...Not even the church...Just HIM. Though, hey...If more people in the church are exposed because of me, that’s cause for celebration. I do wonder, actually...Would you be among those people? I won’t go into it, because it is pure speculation, but...looking back, there are signs...

#ask murdoc #Declan Chambers #potential tw #csa tw #csa trigger warning #rape tw #rape trigger warning

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shriekbackmusic · 5 years

Text

‘Contaminated Pop’ - Lyrics Barry Andrews’ 2019 Solo Album

PUT ME TO WORK

I’ve been a groom I‘ve worked the room I’ve wrapped myself around a broom back in my prime

I fixed the stats

I shaved the rats

Brought litter for the Thundercats

- so many times

(I’ve been a jerk)

PUT ME TO WORK!

O mighty plume! O suffering moon! O weasles in the drawing room! (please make it fast) enklastify my words right now unruly gods will show me how I’ll get the mule before the plough until the last I will not shirk PUT ME TO WORK!

I’ll get the weight upon on my back I’ll eat my body weight in thrak I’ll holler by the railway track (and holler loud!) This Plasma-shift i cannot stop Tumescence intra bellytop Merch is flying out the shop. and in the crowd, are many perks...

PUT ME TO WORK!

O master fruit so tried and true O solemn plague-rat kangaroo Something to get my teeth into is all I pray now linear ducks have just arrived the bullshit has metastasized i am intensely exercised O mood display! Let’s go beserk...

PUT ME TO WORK!

SHIT-PIXIE Don’t you feel in the spring the sickening overkill of everything? can’t help it it’s all hard-wired now All these earthly delights Looking as silly as a bag of lights Ah come on now It’s gotta feel real tired now…

Hey Mary! Get Lairy! You’re still off with the fairies But you know what the whizz and the gelignite can do.. Don’t tangle, just jangle Bring on the crimes and the scandals I’m the Shit Pixie - I’m gonna dance for you.

Nothing real will impinge on the fierce exertions of your perma-binge. Working for you? Got it in hand now? But you won’t draw the sting with your classical allusions and your broken wing. I’m gonna draw you a line in the sand now

So shabby! Gabby! Get yourself back to the abbey you can tell the enqiuiry what and when you knew They concluded what you did was totally scuppered and scoobied I’m the Shit Pixie and I’m gonna tell you true

All the gears grind for you but the light still shines on Column 32 It’s an idea (might make it worse now) Nothing glows in the night and you feel sexy as an ammonite all your virtues are a kind of curse now

Ah Mimi! It’s dreamy! if you shut your eyes you can see me I’m a horse of a different colour boiled to glue. Ignore it; just floor it. It’s so shot-away-in-the-war it’s just the Shit Pixie who’s got a thing for you..

Virgin of the Ladder

I really dig your chiaroscuro it gives me something I can misconstrue these sickly martyrs make me feel alright: they give me something I can live up to

I guess this is where the magic happens: an epiphany of stone and light? Blue-collar… of the Madonna to bring in something from the building site.

O my Virgin of the Ladder will you be with me when I start to climb? Gravity I’m overcoming Nothing doing when it comes to Time

in this year without a summer when I lost everything I thought was mine all the pain and the sheeting rain and I’m sorry baby that was the last of the wine

and I know I can change but there’s only so much a ladder will do D’you want an acolyte that is so scared of heights? rung by rung I’m climbing up to you O virgin of the ladder grant me only that I do not fall towards the centre of the earth Ah keep that ladder up against the wall Oh Virgin of the Ladder what a pretty gal you are maybe a slow climbdown into the squalid town Light a candle on the way to the bar

it’s laboured as an image overused as a metaphor for spiritual ascension (Blake and Jacob did it long before)

but you are Mother of the Word Incarnate but what good are words when you want deeds? - you need practical KIT when you’re deep in the shit and that ladder’s gonna meet my needs O my Virgin of the Ladder will you be with me when I start to climb? Gravity I’m overcoming Nothing doing when it comes to Time

ABDOMEN JONES she will never understand all the tragic flaws of man and has not the slightest sympathy for anyone who can she disdains all protocol (she finds much distainable) still she has nothing in the quiver she’s unable to deliver

Calling Abdomen Jones I love Abdomen Jones and her animus is tidal Paging Abdomen Jones - with her 3 mobile phones - she says: ‘work is the blackmail of survival’

Honey badger isn’t fussed he has transcended disgust ….and it’s known that Jones atones for anything she must Doesn’t claim to be profound never takes the Higher Ground She is fully hypostatic - you should hear her in the attic…

Calling Abdomen Jones Strength to Abdomen Jones! with all her subtle modulations Paging Abdomen Jones with her libido made of chrome she says: ‘pain is a kind of information’

And in any case she sees she is queen of all the bees (as she has some fun and stuns us with her fluent Javanese). And who tunes the concert grand? who will now conduct the band? Her case is prima facie (takes the Beethoven quite pacy)

Calling Abdomen Jones Lovely Abdomen Jones she makes the sound of steam escaping Paging Abdomen Jones she does just fine on her own says: ‘caresses are a form of scraping..’

LOLLIPOP BOMB

Darling monster, sweety-pie.. my mind is wandering sadly I must walk into the reeds` terribly corroded and the saints have crumbled into sand they will not intercede

And I carress the velvet hand grenade my part is played and yes- the windows are steamy so no-one can see me

I lick the Lollipop Bomb I lick the Lollipop Bomb

hark the hot valkyries cry their flaxen hair and crazy eyes they come at last for me honey angel baby lamb I am not what you think I am and i will never be

and I will dally in the sullen glade I’m not afraid of al that I will be streaming at twilight’s last gleaming

I lick the Lollipop Bomb I lick the Lollipop Bomb

tho I was galloping along I read all the portents wrong the Golden Age could never last that long

we are not brave we are not free and yet somehow, remarkably, are able to apall this thinning crowd here in this place the baffled looks upon their faces really says it all

and I will freak out when the time arrives it’s very clear to me that life is a long song and I sang the wrong one

I lick the Lollipop Bomb I lick the Lollipop Bomb

FILTHY WONDERLAND

Come with me if you will - my imaginary friends - I have a tale to tell of phosphors and vapour. Upon a tiny screen i saw a magic realm though i was overwhelmed I got it down on paper.

there’s a scenario: a woman and a wasp not everybody’s thing but no doubt it’s someone’s tumescent butterflies are spurting everywhere: to get the full effect you can even become one

there is a land of wonders and a lot are for hire where all pay homage to the glories of the gland. Do it with Dumbo’s mummy if that is your desire there’s nothing you can’t do in Filthy Wonderland

Some legendary beasts preposterously endowed throw down a fairy girl with wings and tiara. The hobbit looking on is visibly aroused to see these monsters ride the lovely Titania

…and Things with tentacles - that penetrate the bum, A massive squirrel with a fearsome erection the whole environment inclusive as they come, pushing the envelope of natural selection…

There is a brave new vision that machines have designed (the old pornographers will never understand) such complicated pleasures for the liberal mind this is the way of things in Filthy Wonderland

a rampant unicorn; a goblin in a thong: sexual complexity well beyond triangular little Red Riding Hood encountering the wolf in ways (you have to say) are specifically glandular

Phantasmagoria: the Japanese Depraved My Little Pony is away on a hack there. Some mythic masterplan - the lion fellates the lamb - (I need to think this through before I go back there)

There’s an enchanted garden with a final frontier: a blessed Shangri-La to greet with your left hand. they put the magic in you in a new ecosphere a brave and weird new worldc in Filthy Wonderland

There is a land of wonders (and a lot you can buy) where all pay homage to the glories of the gland. Make it with all the cast and crew of Family Guy nothing’s denied to you in Filthy Wonderland..

CONSOLATION

Christ, here comes the storm again that lacerates the heart: the savage wind of ‘really nothing doing’. Pray for us the blighted: all the failed in love and art, who question everything they were pursuing. When the black dogs come for you well, what else can you do, but downwardly revise your expectations? Just kiss the sickly little rose and hold her steady as she goes as you light out for those lands of Consolation

All the aching moments when it didn’t go your way (we saw it all and none of it was pretty) Now you hear their voices in the gruesome light of day, with the wheezing, cheap harmonium of self pity. And there’s some sad things known to man - and quite a few are sadder than the sodden Paggliacci’s ruminations - but still you’d have a heart of stone to leave the poor clown on his own with half a bottle left of Consolation.

When you’ve failed to consummate the wedding of the soul or any other union you may yearn for Let the baby demons come and stretch you on the coals There’s nothing else you’d really care to burn for. Well it really isn’t fun and it comes for everyone it hauls you off despite your protestations. But all the Saints of Legoland; the Poundshop Martyrs hand in hand Will wash you in the seas of Consolation.

Satan in a monster truck Jesus on a bike all these things are sent to test your mettle Half-mast flags in Whitehall or your head upon a spike? Depends on where the dust is when it settles. All the things you struggled for you can check em at the door get ready for a dubious sedation. It’s all designed to reassure: the bingo and the talking cure, as they walk you round the grounds of Consolation

Feel the Need (lyric by Abrim Tilmon - Detroit Emeralds)

See how I’m walking See how I'm talking Notice everything in me Feel the need, oh Feel, feel the need in me

I need you by my side To be my guide Can't you see my arms Are open wide? Feel the need, oh Feel, feel the need in me

Every day, I need every day, I want, without your sweet Sweet love, I'd rather die

I need it constantly your love takes care of me your love is better To me than apple/cherry pie

Your love is tuff and I can't get enough Girl, your love is So important to me Feel the need, feel the need in me

Just put your hand in mine Love me all the time The proof you will Plainly see, Feel the need, oh Feel, feel the need in me

I need you on the case To keep my heart in place You make me what I need to be Feel the need, Feel the need in me

I need you by my side To be my guide Can't you see my arms Are open wide? Feel the need, oh Feel it, feel the need in me

#shriekbackmusic #xtc band #britpop #technomusic #electronica

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dfldslsd-blog · 5 years

Text

introducing,

- ( rome flynn, cis-male ) do you know who THEODORE KINGSLEIGH is? yeah, they moved in FLOOR C about 1 YEAR ago. the 23 year old is a MED STUDENT. i heard some talk in the lobby that they’re +COMPASSIONATE and +TRUSTWORTHY, but honestly i think HE can be -UNCONVENTIONAL and -RECKLESS. all in all, they’re a real ANOMALOUS.

waddup, peeps ?? i’m late to the intro party as always, but this tiny bean goes by the name of rue ( she/her ) and i’ll be playing soft boy™, theodore kingsleigh. he’s pretty much a new faceclaim for me with an old character’s background. however, rome has recently become my forever fave, therefore i’m so excited to have the opportunity to play him !! if you would like to hmu for plots / scream about connections all day long, please give this a like and i’ll come wiggling into your ims ( or discord; find me at mlkhoney#2233 ) shortly after. under the cut, you’ll find a brief summary about theo and his life. also all my wcs are listed over here if you wanna check that out as well. his stats can be found here too. can’t wait to start interacting !!

+ disclaimer: very slight talks of cancer and mental health are below. read at your discretion.

layer one: the stats.

name. theodore alexander kingsleigh.

alias. people usually just call him by theodore but sometimes theo make an appearance.

title. over time, he has proudly deemed himself an obsessive plant lover, artistic nutcase, or one of the missing dead poets society members.

name meaning. his true significance of his name means God’s gift.

age. twenty-three years old.

gender identity. cis-male.

pronouns. he/him.

sexual orientation. predominately panromantic demisexual. it isn’t so much so that theo is completely disinterested in sex (he’s got a perfectly good libido, thank you very much), he just doesn’t find himself sexually attracted to people based on physical appearance or initial impressions. instead he finds personality, intellect, and existing emotional attachment considerably more compelling. the idea of intimacy with somebody he’s not close with rather repulses him.

current residence. seattle.

religion. he was raised roman catholic but converted to spiritual agnosticism when he was fifteen. he views that universal ethics and love are far more important than claims about any deity and trivialize the arguments supporting or rejecting such claims. to theo, it doesn’t matter which religion someone might follow, nor does it matter whether or not someone believes in god. what matters is what someone does, not what they believe. he has his parents’ full support in his switch even though the rest of his family practices catholism.

spoken languages. spanish (fluent/main), english (fluent/2nd main), french, and a bit of chinese.

education. graduated with a bachelors of science in human physiology as well as a bachelors of fine arts in illustration and photography. currently a medical student working on his masters.

layer two: the story.

- so this is my baby boy, theodore kingsleigh and i love him sm ?? he usually goes by theodore, but on occasion people call him theo but he doesn’t care what people call him as long as it’s kind.

- theo was born in london, england to both loving and supportive parents named james and adriana. he lived there until he was six years old when his family moved to denver because his parents, who are both marine biologists, were located for work.

- his parents had him when they were both young.

- unlike his older siblings, theo wasn’t a bastard though. by the time he was born, his parents had already married.

- growing up, he had and still does, have a great relationship with his parents. with his childhood consisting nothing more than love and devotion from his parents, theo had nothing to complain about. his parents loved him dearly, whose pure heart and open-mindedness they helped to cultivate. they encouraged theo’s belief in extraordinary things and hoped he had carried it throughout his life growing up. his parents had always made him promise to have courage and be kind to others, for—as they explained to him—kindness has power, and that they would see him through all the trials that life could offer, in life and death.

- cancer/mental illness tw: when he was thirteen, his mother had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. upon hearing the news, theo’s whole world clasped. not only was he at a pivotal stage in his life where everything was changing and becoming more stressful ( becoming a teenager, starting high school, going through puberty ), one of the most important people in his life had be claimed by the deadly disease altogether. so many thoughts and feelings were going through his mind at the time, that he ran himself physically sick and had experienced his first panic attack. he has since been medically diagnosed with panic disorder. thankfully the cells on his mother’s cervix were diagnosed at precancerous stage and the doctors were able to treat it because it developed and spread. however, that didn’t and doesn’t stop theo from being in a constantly state of panic every time his mother so much as feels pain or coughs due to irrelevant reasons. the entire year had changed him and his family for a while.

- he’s the youngest of three children: natalia, christopher, and theodore. his old brother, who is three years older than him and their relationship, however, is a bit estranged. as much as he loves his brother and wishes they could see eye-to-eye, sometimes they have a tendency to butt heads often. whether that might mean your typical sibling arguments or full-on blown out fights, they just can’t seem to see get along.

- most people would describe theo as the altruistic. despite being in a world where there’s hatred and suffering, theo declares himself independent and strong-willed by remaining kind-hearted and self-loving, not allowing the bitterness surrounding his life to overtake him and morph him into someone as cruel as the world seems to be every day. he makes the most of his life by remaining optimistic of the possibilities of a brighter future. but besides that, he’s also witty and sarcastic. he is unafraid to stand up for himself when he feels he’s in the right–or at least, attempt to do so. and although he strives to contain his optimism aura, he can fall into fits of frustration and annoyance quite often.

- he’s also super quiet and shy. he loves to make friends but because of his quiet complex, he usually has trouble speaking up and making his voice heard. he tends to become flustered a lot too when he can’t express his emotions; which he has trouble doing anyway when he’s not flustered.

- theo is capable of enduing tremendous hardship. though he may not handle difficulty in the healthiest or best way, often repressing emotion, he mostly like emerges on the other side. he doesn’t know how to express his emotions in a diplomatic way, but rather fumbles it all up and starts to ramble. rarely opens up because of this.

- went to college at university of denver as an undergrad. graduated with a bachelors of science in human physiology as well as a bachelors of fine arts in illustration and photography.

- moved to settle for his masters and has loved the small town ever since.

- currently in medical school to get his M.D.

- to put it plan and simple theodore is an art ho ( he’s even going to school for it ). theo always loved anything artistic. even when he was little, he would go around with his disposable camera and take pictures of everything and then take to paper to draw of all the things he had taken pictures of as well.

- he’s like a hippie dippy child of the universe. no joke. no seriously, his place at home is full of sensual shit and art. it’s getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon.

- he strongly believes that art is an umbrella term that relates to expressing of oneself ( not just through photography and painting ) and that everyone has the freedom to express themselves however they please. because of his beliefs, he chooses to break gender roles like bread and wears whatever the fuck he wants because yolo.

- his appearance pretty much represents his hippie dippy lifestyle with him wearing all sorts of cute hipster shit. he’s clothes are v flow-y but don’t let that fool you. he doesn’t miss the opportunity to represent his upper-middle class within his style, so he does dress to impress, let me tell you ( he’s a fashion ho too ). his hair color changes sometimes too depending on his mood but it’s generally never too eccentric.

#8thintro

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infernumerigo-a · 5 years

Text

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

repost, don’t reblog !

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. john constantine. NICKNAME. GENDER. male. HEIGHT. 5′11″. AGE. 37. ZODIAC. taurus. SPOKEN LANGUAGES. english, latin, ancient languages probably.

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR. blonde. EYE COLOR. dark brown. SKIN TONE. pale//goldish. BODY TYPE. meh. body type of alcoholic and chain smoker. slim though, because he can't cook for life, and forgets that cigs, coffee and gin are not food. VOICE. i have no idea how to describe voices, especially john's. it's just, you need to hear it to understand it - it's quite melodic but harsh at times? add british accent and you've got john. DOMINANT HAND. right. POSTURE. slouches. and because of it and because of him being slim he doesn't look like 5'11. SCARS. one on stomach from getting shot (thanks, ex), one across the inside of his forearm//wrist from getting cut (thanks Midnite.), on the inside of his right forearm there's a burned scar after he invited a demon into him with a medallion, he will get a nasty scar across his left eye as soon as his daughter will attempt to kill him, but that's yet to come. probably many others but less visible. TATTOOS. whole back, arms and shoulders covered as well as most of his torso and stomach. BIRTHMARKS. one between shoulder plates, but it's already covered up by tatts. MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). i have no idea, for me it's his voice. and smoking habit. if he mumbles english gibberish and is a human chimney that's john.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH. liverpool, uk. HOMETOWN. liverpool, uk for 15 years, but London has already grown on him. SIBLINGS. cheryl, unnamed twin (paul, i'm calling him paul the golden boy) PARENTS. Thomas Constantine, Mary Anne Constantine

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. conman//street artist//journalist//occult detective and master of the dark arts - depending who asks. CURRENT RESIDENCE. london, uk or new york, usa. he's travelling all the time. CLOSE FRIENDS. Chas Chandler the poor lad who can't die. now he has to suffer with john. @onlyliberty's Anne is one of the best friends as well. RELATIONSHIP STATUS. single most of the time cause let's be honest the last lad who was unlucky enough to fall in love with john ended up being possessed by a demon and sent to hell with a said demon by john. FINANCIAL STATUS. if there is enough money to buy bread it's an amazing day. there is not enough money for both cigs n booze and other stuff, and booze n cigs always win. DRIVER’S LICENSE. a wot. who needs a licence when you can avoid cops? CRIMINAL RECORD. arrested, arrested a lot of times, got a couple of arrest warrants but hey, he never got jailed for long. VICES. *points in John's general direction* Let's make a list shall we; addictions, sex, adultery, compulsive lying and never-ending manipulation, complete amoral pursuit of selfish goals, straight up soulless ruthlessness, violent behavior, disloyalty even when it comes to 'friends' - using them as means to achieve a goal, making pacts with demons, selling his - and not only his own soul(s) to demons in said pacts, condemning an innocent child to hell, murder.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. raging bisexual PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch. LIBIDO. high. uses it to abreact. TURN ON’S. tattoos. confidence. arguing. danger and violence. and much more, less sfw stuff. TURN OFF’S. apathy LOVE LANGUAGE. touch. we're talking about a mate who kisses other people when he gets happy. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. relationships most of the time do not work out, john's life catches up on him and then he runs away, or even worse things happen. let's just say, loving john constantine is a fate worse than death.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. Saint PHNX - Death of Me

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. drinking? but on a less depressing note - reading and studying. he wants to pursue knowledge! and that's great, honestly. and he likes to read the newspaper and to watch some of his fave shows. that kind of stuff, unless he's at a bar searching for either trouble or company. MENTAL ILLNESSES. insomnia, depression, addictions, ptsd. When he was admitted to Ravenscar he was inaccurately diagnosed with paraphrenia. But everyone speaking about demons would be. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. slightly more right inclined. PHOBIAS. dogs, needles, hospitals, condemning children to hell, Nergal. SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. a wot. VULNERABILITIES. children.

TAGGED BY: @sanctemony and @artifexed thank you!

TAGGING: @langdonxmichael @roguishlydangerous for troy? @cateyeswarlock

#Personality ♅ Confundántur et revereántur quaeréntes ánimam meam.

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itslvca-blog · 6 years

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introducing,

waddup, peeps ?? this tiny bean goes by the name of rue ( she/her ) and i’ll be playing soft boy™, luca rosario. he’s pretty much a new faceclaim for me with an old character’s background. however, francisco has recently become my forever fave, therefore i’m so excited to have the opportunity to play him !! if you would like to hmu for plots / scream about connections all day long, please give this a like and i’ll come wiggling into your ims ( or discord; find me at justrue#2233 ) shortly after. under the cut, you’ll find a brief summary about luca and his life. also all my wcs are listed over here if you wanna check that out as well. his stats can be found here too. can’t wait to start interacting !!

+ disclaimer: very slight talks of cancer and mental health are below. read at your discretion.

layer one: the stats.

name. luca leonardo rosario.

alias. people usually just call him by luca but sometimes luke, luki, or leo make an appearance.

title. over time, he has proudly deemed himself an obsessive pizza addict, artistic nutcase, or one of the missing dead poets society members.

name meaning. his true significance of his name means a bringer of light.

age. eighteen years old.

gender identity. cis-male.

pronouns. he/him.

sexual orientation. predominately panromantic demisexual. it isn’t so much so that luca is completely disinterested in sex (he’s got a perfectly good libido, thank you very much), he just doesn’t find himself sexually attracted to people based on physical appearance or initial impressions. instead he finds personality, intellect, and existing emotional attachment considerably more compelling. the idea of intimacy with somebody he’s not close with rather repulses him.

current residence. boston, massachusetts.

religion. he was raised roman catholic but converted to spiritual agnosticism when he was fifteen. he views that universal ethics and love are far more important than claims about any deity and trivialize the arguments supporting or rejecting such claims. to luca, it doesn’t matter which religion someone might follow, nor does it matter whether or not someone believes in god. what matters is what someone does, not what they believe. he has his parents’ full support in his switch even though the rest of his family practices catholism.

spoken languages. portuguese (fluent/main), english (fluent/2nd main), french and polish (still learning but can understand it quite well).

education. currently a senior at houghton academy.

layer two: the story.

- so this is my baby boy, luca rosario and i love him sm ?? he usually goes by luca, but on occasion people call him either luke, luki, or leo. but he doesn’t care what people call him as long as it’s kind.

- luca was born in san paulo, brazil to both loving and supportive parents named jeremi and mariana. he lived there until he was six years old when his family moved to boston because his parents, who are both marine biologists, were located for work.

- his parents had him when they were both young.

- luca was also born out of wedlock, so by the time his parents decided to marry two years after he was born, his parents had already made the decision to give him his mother’s maiden name even though his father’s surname is polish.

- growing up, he had and still does, have a great relationship with his parents. with his childhood consisting nothing more than love and devotion from his parents, luca had nothing to complain about. his parents loved him dearly, whose pure heart and open-mindedness they helped to cultivate. they encouraged luca’s belief in extraordinary things and hoped he had carried it throughout his life growing up. his parents had always made him promise to have courage and be kind to others, for—as they explained to him—kindness has power, and that they would see him through all the trials that life could offer, in life and death.

- cancer/mental illness tw: when he was thirteen, his mother had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. upon hearing the news, luca’s whole world clasped. not only was he at a pivotal stage in his life where everything was changing and becoming more stressful ( becoming a teenager, starting high school, going through puberty ), one of the most important people in his life had be claimed by the deadly disease altogether. so many thoughts and feelings were going through his mind at the time, that he ran himself physically sick and had experienced his first panic attack. he has since been medically diagnosed with panic disorder. thankfully the cells on his mother’s cervix were diagnosed at precancerous stage and the doctors were able to treat it because it developed and spread. however, that didn’t and doesn’t stop luca from being in a constantly state of panic every time his mother so much as feels pain or coughs due to irrelevant reasons. the entire year had changed him and his family for a while.

- he has brother, who is three years younger than him, named tomás. his relationship with his brother, however, is a bit estranged. as much as he loves his brother and wishes they could see eye-to-eye, sometimes they have a tendency to butt heads often. whether that might mean your typical sibling arguments or full-on blown out fights, they just can’t seem to see get along. sometimes people believe they aren’t actually related or that they’re half siblings because when his brother was born, he took their father’s last name.

- most people would describe luca as the benevolent. despite being in a world where there’s hatred and suffering, luca declares himself independent and strong-willed by remaining kind-hearted and self-loving, not allowing the bitterness surrounding his life to overtake him and morph him into someone as cruel as the world seems to be every day. he makes the most of his life by remaining optimistic of the possibilities of a brighter future. but besides that, he’s also witty and sarcastic. he is unafraid to stand up for himself when he feels he’s in the right–or at least, attempt to do so. and although he strives to contain his optimism aura, he can fall into fits of frustration and annoyance quite often.

- luca is capable of enduing tremendous hardship. though he may not handle difficulty in the healthiest or best way, often repressing emotion, he mostly like emerges on the other side. he doesn’t know how to express his emotions in a diplomatic way, but rather fumbles it all up and starts to ramble. rarely opens up because of this.

- to put it plan and simple luca is an art ho. luca always loved anything artistic. even when he was little, he would go around with his disposable camera and take pictures of everything and then take to paper to draw of all the things he had taken pictures of as well.

- he’s like a hippie dippy child of the universe. no joke. no seriously, his place at home is full of sensual shit and art. it’s getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon.

#houghtonintro

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nosexnofacenonose · 3 years

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The Acceptances in Action. (part 1) “A place one falls down” Is how the Eskimo describes the cliff that one jumps off to commit suicide. “We have no rear view mirror” Is how James Hetfield justified Metallica’s need for progression. Am I in need of a pretentious essay that can plough through what was not seen in NO SEX NO FACE NO NOSE? And this pretentious essay, or should I use the English word, to try, no, should I say attempt, yes, attempt is the word, that is the word I choose attempt. Here is the dyslexic attempt, a press-release posing as an essay, hiding behind the word attempt. I will attempt to justify nothing. I am carving some self important thoughts into an electronic field so that I can be read, pathetic really. To write is an action. To read is an action. To accept is an action. Being pathetic is a form of behaviour, based on, in may case, an action. I, Victor Boullet lived with an art critic for five days. I slept next to the art critic. I heard him snore, an art critic snoring! I, Victor Boullet, the artist, constructed an art show with an art critic present. I worked, I painted, I used the colours green and grey. I had flags and rubbish in my suitcase, I made art. Art? But we, ate chicken. Chicken? Was it art mannerisms that I performed in NO SEX NO FACE NO NOSE? Did he, the art critic notice my pretentious false art gestures? Did the art critic see me apply the paint? Did he hear me, those sounds of suffering, the human grunts I gave off while painting. Was I pretending to be Glenn Gould moaning while playing, suffering through Bach’s Goldberg’s variations (1981). Did the art critic see straight through my faceless facade of nothing? Do they, the art critics, the art critics see, or hear, the nothingness, the hollow attempts, the shallow approach, the nil? Do they see those lifeless actions, actions from a man desperate for acceptance. Actions of self promotion in order to climb the ladder of success. (I repeat words so that it becomes more interesting, an art effect I guess) Example, I will write, I will write, I will write, I will have to write or, might write, might write, or, should write, should write for the eternal self obsessed legacy. Estate of this and that. Some people have looked into my eyes and said; By writing an essay you can make a difference. Several human beings also believe that with some paint strokes added to a canvas you can express yourself, you can even express change they say. To my surprise in our society today it does nothing, nothing, never. Just cash. Please be disappointed, stay disappointed, obey your disappointment, yes the latter, you, the viewer are the disappointment, you harbour your own sad disappointment that you need to understand and define. You are on idle speed, therefor disappointment, I am so sorry to be the one to inform you. You suffer from Idleism. I will follow and obey. Obey, If I don’t obey, if not, if not, what can happen? Who really cares? Plant a seed, look, look, enjoy growth, that is action, the rest is all human illusion. As I was self excessively preoccupied documenting my art and the art critics life in the NO SEX NO FACE NO NOSE (STIAN GABRIELSEN IS AN ART CRITIC) I never came to any conclusion about my future as an artist, other than what I have already expressed through my work. oh yes, my work, I should emphasise that, my work, my art work, I am my work. I my AM I work. (a digression, need to look at this. You meet them, the people in the art world, they ask; what are you up to these days? I should answer; what do you want me to be up to? but I don't, I must remember this for next time.) I have decided to share some snaps, photo snaps or are they photographs, I will come back to this, this, being the definition of my photographs, there I go again, photographs is the word I choose, and not snaps or photos. Among the images below you can choose to see what you want to see, but do you see what I see? Do you hear what hear? Do you do what I do? Below, in the snaps, photo snaps, photos or photographs you can see the art critic, Stian Gabrielsen at work. But look at how he integrates into the work and the space so easily, without any hesitance, this worries me. I am not at all sure that we should entirely believe what we read or see these days. I have even doubts about our own history, being art or whatever, why should we trust someone who writes? Or who has written something that makes us throw our hands in the air. I am not at all sure, I hesitate over everything. I was given a white cube, a shabby white cube far, far up in the north of Norway, where hardly anyone lives. Reindeer. Will I ever be upgraded? An artist in a pristine beautiful white cube, do I need to be upgraded? In which case I would have to update my CV and personal web site? Oh, I might need to ad a studio@ email address, that will project seriousness. Should I change my domain to .org or .net? or even .biz I do wonder if I should have left the art critic Stian Gabrielsen there, in that shabby white cube, the art critic abandoned for a few weeks in my art, art work, art piece, art installation, art, art, god forsaken art rubbish art talk. Once branded a loser, you’ll remain a loser, and the ways out that the branders provide you with are actually tools for digging yourself further into an inescapable nightmare, and a “good day” is one in which you are simply left alone for once. Chris Kraus’s Summer of Hate (Semiotext(e), 2012) Let me present myself, my name is Victor Boullet and I ask myself why? why as in why am I here, why do I need to do this. Pretentiously why. Arrogantly why. Why why. For all the good reasons on this planet, our beautiful mother earth, I ask myself why why? (Should write a paragraph containing a view on Van Gogh's wooden clogs (that would be good) This is a press release hiding behind the terminology, an essay, or in my case an written attempt explaining NO SEX NO FACE NO NOSE, no, I will compare my work to a chicken, I am poultry, a domestic fowl to be exact. Let’s say, my art practice is chickens, or maybe, ducks, no, I will stick to the wonderful domesticated chicken as my allegory. Pluck a chicken and you will have feathers. Make a meal out of the bird, and you wont be hungry. Boil the bones, make soup or stock, a second feeding. Use the bones for tools or other implements. This is how I look at my own art practice, everything can be reused just like little chickens given qualities for domestic survival. I am a chicken. I could type more rubbish like this, or should I find my way back to the content of this attempt press release essay. Entertainment, what is entertainment? Just involve everyone that you know and have been in contact with your whole life and then entertain them? Promote yourself and make it all seem bigger than it is, was, while be, is that entertainment? No, entertainment is making other folk not becoming bored by you, or your way of promoting your existence and birth given creative talent. What was Mozart? W A Mozart was in my view a social puppet pushed into the limelight because he was born with a talent. He could have been born with Down’s syndrome, he would have then been pushed into an other art institution and that for people with rare deceases with or without talent. (Have to mention, the directors of all Institutions are the same regardless. watch out!) Kurt Cobain managed to make me see, not hear, but see and then understand the word, the word entertainment. It popped out in his lyric like a sore thumb and changed something, something inside me, that something is still changing and is just as new and fresh as it was that day in 1991, and it has nothing to to with Kurt, his death or his band. With the lights out, it's less dangerous Here we are now, entertain us I feel stupid and contagious Here we are now, entertain us A mulatto An albino A mosquito My libido A denial !! [x9] (x9 is fantastic) Here we are now, entertain us. Is Kurt demanding to be entertained? This made me question my own sad position in 1991. By reversing the understanding of this sentence i.e. Kurt and not the audience is demanding to be entertained. Reversing that massively ingrained middle class need to be entertained is an undertaking greater than simply understanding it. I come from a working class family that has been craving middle class approval since that family, my family, thought that they were something they were not. I was born and bred into this hypocrisy. To be accepted one has to entertain the class above your own. When accepted by the society or the social rung that you have entertained, what then? You have become a phoney middle class player, and what then, and for what reason? There are no reasons to climb the social ladder that comes with your mother’s milk. When you climb, you sadly reach some one else's insecure plateau, that has been climbed before you. So there you find yourself, with that someone, another and now you have to share their unbelievably dull opinions. The first phrase in this particular Nirvana chorus with the lights out, it's less dangerous underlines everything that entertainment is and has always stood for. By turning the lights off one makes a phoney ambiance to lure the souls of potential punters / fans / suckers into your own crib where your mind bending nurture begins, and this only to project your shallow message that needs sugar coating for survival. Why not simply turn the light on, and face the so called danger. And be surprised right before impact, that there is no danger, and there is no impact other then your ingrained middle class understanding hitting you over the head. Kurt also utters: I feel stupid and contagious. The nerves of performing, If you don’t succeed in the act you believe that you are perceived as stupid. Contagious on the other hand is all power. If you manage to entertain and grab the public’s attention with your talent you gain a contagious power that you can use or rather abuse. Denial, Denial, Denial, Denial, Denial, Denial, Denial, Denial, Denial. (X9) (Regarding switching the light back on, the correct and honest impact I had then, has nothing to do with Kurt, but another fellow, James, who has lost it completely. I try to keep my lights on, they are on, I like them on. Or should I say, my light is on, singular rather than plural. Why singular? Because I come alone. That one light punctures your hope I hope.) (The expression ‘a one liner’, has become an art world adjective. A one liner is pure entertainment (not art, what is art?) An expression that defines only the demanders own undefined ego and selfish act of needing his / her insecure acceptance by others. A one liner art piece survives only for that trendy moment, just like the creator or the demander.) (a trendy moment is one week maybe two weeks, depends on the blogs) Living with an art critic was an action, and I have a reason for this particular action. The action was / is acceptance in rejection. Only by an action can one receive the acquired acceptance that our society requires. People need to be lured into their own prejudged default in order to justify your action, an action they have already judged. This is what our modern society eagerly, naively believes we should all be part of. The blind lead the blind and our culture is yet again being formed and shaped for our next generation, but sadly by people that we should not ever trust. NEVER. There is no part 2 to this essay, press release, attempt, whatever. Do not get too involved and please wait patiently for the part 2 / II. Not sure I am done, I have more. Kurt also sings; I’m worse at what I do best And for this gift I feel blessed. Listen, go see an Eddie Murphy flick instead. VICTOR B / OCT/ NOV - 2013 ps. A white man An artist A player My libido Yeah (X9)

#no sex no face no nose #victor boullet #Stian Gabrielsen #Kurant Tromsø #2013

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