OKAY I DECIDED TO READ THE JJK MANGA-

The Sleeping Soldier: Alucard Adrian Tepes

Castlevania

okkotsu "no bitches?" yuuta

Happy birthday to the character of all time, my babiest babygirl, my feral obsession, Eren Yeager<33333333

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I love this man, your honor

Boyd Driving Thread

Chapter 6

Monster Dearest

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter will have TWO disturbing scenes. Ximena is a very morally incorrect character. This chapter will have a SH scene (not detailed) and a scene where a parent lashes out at a child due to addiction/substance abuse (of a made up substance) but both child abuse and substance abuse are still VERY real issues and if you know someone struggling with either of these things please reach out to someone or check out literally ANY of these:

Crisis Text Line

Crisis Text Line offers advice and referrals for anyone who feels that they’re experiencing a crisis. This can include drug and alcohol dependency, suicidal impulses, family problems, and other personal difficulties. To access the Crisis Text Line, text HOME to 741741 any time, day or night.

National Alliance on Mental Illness HelpLine

The National Alliance on Mental Illness operates a helpline for individuals and their loved ones who feel they may be experiencing a mental health crisis. People who know or suspect they have a mental disorder or who believe a loved one might be suffering from such an issue can call 1-800-950-NAMI (6264) to get help. The helpline also accepts text contacts, and the alliance may be reached via email. Responses go out during normal business hours.

National Drug Helpline

The National Drug Helpline is open to any individual dealing with addiction issues, including family members and other loved ones. Resources are available for those struggling with any addictive substance, including alcohol, and professionals are available to help 24/7/365 at 1-844-289-0879.

National Institute of Mental Health Information Resource Center

The National Institute of Mental Health Information Resource Center hotline helps people suffering from mental illness find the resources they need to get treatment, including crisis intervention. Services are available in English and Spanish at 1-866-615-6464 or 1-866-415-8051 for TTY users. Live help is limited to regular hours, though online chat is also available.

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Ximena had always been known as a loved woman. She had a loving husband, two sons that loved her more than anything, a mother that lived with them in a large cottage on the very top of the hill that overlooks the villages. She would always go to the village and trade the fruits and vegetables for swey that she could find, but never brought the collection home to her family. Instead, she would bring home weapons that she claimed to have traded the food for to soldiers.

Ximena knew the perfect people that would do anything she asked when the time was right, so when the time presented itself, she willed herself into an alleyway close to her friend’s house with nothing more than a few vegetables and a dagger tucked away into her boot. She knew what she was going to do was ridiculous, but she also knew that it was a surefire way to get exactly what she wanted.

Taking the dagger, she swiftly stabbed herself in the side, being sure to avoid going too deep to miss any arteries or major veins. Ximena threw the vegetables to the ground to make sure they scattered and hid the dagger back into the boot that she retrieved it from. Begging for help from anyone that would hear, two of her older friends bolted around the corner in a panic.

“Ximena! What happened?!’

The voice of the first man brought a tiny, downward quirk to her lip, he wasn’t the man that she wanted, but his brother.

“I’ve been stabbed- I wasn’t able to provide enough vegetables for a trade and he took an armful and ran! I couldn’t see which way I-”

The brother of the first man looks at her and tries to assess the wound from overhead, but Ximena was moving too much.

“I’ll be right back. I’ve got to get something to wrap you up with, quickly.”

As she continued her sob story, the very man she was looking for came into the alleyway with weapons and bandages.

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Ximena had always been known as a loved woman. She had a loving husband, two sons that loved her more than anything, a mother that lived with them in a large cottage on the very top of the hill that overlooks the villages.

All of that changed when her oldest son found the stacked gallons stash of swey and connected dots that she wasn’t ready for anyone to connect. So she did the only thing that made sense to her. Ximena lashed out on him, pulling her dagger on him and swinging rapidly, only the thought of keeping her final plan on schedule. Griffin let out a surprised cry and grunted as he dodged her swipes. He wouldn’t fight back, he loved her too much.

“You weren’t supposed to find this.”

Griffin didn’t know what to say. There was no explanation, no apology, just a blame to his name.

She landed one slash from his jaw to his bottom lip when she finally realized what she had done.

“You aren’t supposed to be here. My son.. I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, Griffin turned his back to her and ran. He didn’t know where he was going to run to, but he knew that he couldn’t tell his brother and he couldn’t tell his father in fear of tearing the family apart. He also knew that he couldn’t tolerate anything along the lines of what she had just done ever again, so he ran.

Ximena sighs and drops to the floor of the swey cellar, staring at the dagger in her hand. She began to sob and threw the dagger at the wall, flinching as it crashed to the floor. Realization shoots a chill up her spine when the truth that just attacked her eldest son for the sake of her own addiction hits her.

The love she did have was fabricated in an intricate caricature of her own design. If there was no way to regain the love she lost in a world she destroyed, then she would let herself drown in a pool of lies to avoid facing the truth of her faults.

“M’lady you are lost in your head once more.”

“I’m just thinking,Ordóñez.” The masked man let out a sigh at her calling him by name. Such a rarity was to be cherished in moments like these. He takes off his mask and clips it to the loop in his belt, waiting for her to continue, but she doesn't.

“That’s dangerous.” She could practically hear the small smile that crossed his features. Letting out a hum, she turns to face him. She never noticed how distressed the bags under his eyes had become.

“I suppose it is, but we make due anyhow. The human brain is a dangerous thing, yet we all have one. How strange, we are all equipped with the most deadly weapon of all, yet hardly anyone knows how to use it.”

Trailing off in her ramble of power and how the brain could be used more efficiently, Ordóñez couldn’t help but wonder when or if she was even capable of facing herself. How was it that such a broken, mourning yet strong woman could hide so much pain behind a veil of power? What was her true motive when it came to the rule that she held? Was she doing the things she did because she was simply scared of what would happen if she tried to turn herself around? If that was the case, Ordóñez would be the first to admit that he has been in that situation too many times to count. Maybe he continued on his sadistic path because he couldn't accept that he has done too much damage to be redeemed in anyone's eyes. The hole has been dug too deep, and digging deeper seemed to be the only option. That and praying that the digging will come to an end once he finds there is no floor and he falls to what he could only describe as a well-deserved end.

“Ordóñez.. you are lost in your head once more.” Ximena’s voice, laced in something between worry and fake annoyance pulls him from his spiral, something he is eternally grateful for.

“I’m just thinking, my queen.” He shakes his head, mirroring her earlier phrase.

“That’s dangerous.” She continues his banter as she takes a seat next to him in the large room.

The library that she demanded to be built was always her favorite place to go when she truly needed to clear her head. Something about the rows of books and the ancient text reminding her of years past helped her find comfort in the fact that there is a possibility of beauty in the pain that has been inflicted on both herself and the world she knew.

There wasn’t much seating, only five chairs and a loveseat, all covered in maroon velvet with dark wood for the structure. She had no intention of letting anyone into her safe space, so she didn’t feel the need to have too many places to sit, but once she met Ordóñez, learned what he had been through and found that he was just a little too similar to her, she decided he was the only living person that had the opportunity to invade such a sacred space.

“You know that [skinny] demographic of boy is in?”

“Right. It’s called empowering the anemic”

TikTok credit to broskireport

Dude, I have social anxiety, and although I can't speak for everyone who has it, I am not a stuttering helpless mess in public. I keep reading all of these fics where they write König like a stuttering, blushing mess who can't hold a decent conversation. Like please, this man is absolutely feral and sassy on the battlefield. He's probably just a reserved guy who doesn't fancy big crowds or social situations or eye contact. He's not helpless. I'm not trying to be offensive and I'm sure that we all have our own journeys with anxiety. . .

But please guys he's a grown man who literally kills people for a profession and has an attitude while he does it😭

But maybe it's just the adrenaline, what do I know?