#don’t let sasha see this we need him alive

[carlsangel]

EMBARRASSMENT

carl grimes x fem!reader

(negan embarrasses you and carl during the lineup.)

tags: i have no idear but negans in this one and he’s a BITCH

masterlist here!

The Lineup was the worst day of your life. Not only were you practically sobbing for half of it but you were also angry. You were angry, scared, and frustrated.

Before the lineup, you were helping pack up the RV, you were in charge of packing all the medicine and food that Maggie would need for the ride. You’d had a large bag of anything she’d need and you approached the RV and walked up the steps, heading to the bed in the back. You put it on the shelf and turn to leave to be met with Carl.

“Hey.” He puts a jug of water on the floor by the door. “Nervous?” You ask, knowing he’d not gone to Hilltop before and with the risk of the Saviors after the death of Denise, losing tons of people, he was worried. But he refused to show that. “No. Why would I be?” He mumbles, making his way back out of the RV and his tone sort of throws you off.

Before you can think of an answer, Rick instructs Carl to collect guns from the armory, and you decide to follow. You catch up to him and look at his expression, he seems different which is explanatory but you wanted details. “I was just thinking…you’d be worried since…the Saviors? Everything that happened.” You explain. He walks with a blank expression.

“I’m not nervous, I’m not letting it happen again. That’s why you’re not going.” You stop in your tracks and he slows down, looking back at you as if your reaction was unreasonable. “Excuse me?” He turns back around and continues walking. “Don’t just walk away, you can’t just tell me I can’t go.” You try and reason with himself, but he simply doesn’t wanna hear it. He continues walking to the armory.

In spite of that, you went home and started packing. Anything you’d need or anything important for the trip, you didn’t know how long you’d be staying at Hilltop.

When you left the house, you hopped down the stairs, noticing Sasha grabbing from the house’s cabinets. She stops you before you continue out the house. “What was all that about?” She questioned, you assume she and some others had seen what’d gone on with Carl earlier. It sort of threw everyone off, he was never that closed off with you.

You pause before thinking, trying to figure out what’d happened yourself. “I…that’s a good question.” You sort of chuckle embarrassingly, you were thrown off by his demeanor. “I’m sure it’s nothing, I think he’s just…upset about everything.” You continue. Sasha nods. “You’re still going?” She zips up her bag and throws it over her shoulder.

“He’s not stopping me.”

Which he didn’t, he tried his hardest to persuade you but you wouldn’t budge. You wanted to be there in case anything happened, most importantly you wanted to be there for Maggie. It took an entire argument for you to be able to get on the damn RV. “You know they’re out there. I can’t let anything happen to you.” While you understood where he was coming from, it seemed relatively hypocritical.

“You’re being ridiculous, when have we not been able to handle something? If anything happens, we’re getting out alive. I don’t care. I’m going.”

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

Unfortunately, you were in for a rude awakening. Maybe he was right, but you still wanted to be there. Be beside him during everything. You had to be, you had to see it all happen. He believed that as well. Maybe not for you, but he knew he had to see it.

This man, Negan seemed to be a total asshole, the way he had you all lined up for him, his cruel jokes. You had to admit he was a little funny, but now was definitely not the time. He’d been taunting you and the people you called your family for what felt like hours. He threatened you to no end, explaining how your life basically revolved around him now.

Negan paced back and forth, looking between you all. You were angry, you hadn’t cried yet but you were pissed, reasonably so. He was at the other end of the line when he looked in your direction. His sharp gaze made your stomach drop, you knew it was your turn. You look down for a moment as he walked over to you, swallowing hard before looking up at him like his presence was irritating, not terrifying.

He smiles as he approaches, immediately noticing the look in your eye. “Someone’s mad.” He chuckles, looking to the others while gesturing to you with Lucille. Despite your nerves, you were fairly irritated. Your knees felt like they were nailed to the ground, they hurt terribly and it only rubbed off on your attitude towards Negan. “How does a girl like you, get wrapped up with these kinds of people?” You tilt your head at him with a disgusted look. “You’re one to talk. This is my family.” You retort. He jokingly acts shocked at your rebuttal. “Well excuse me! The last time I checked, your people,” he puts Lucille in your face, “…killed a whole lot of my people, completely unwarranted.”

You knew it was bullshit. You knew about their agreement with Hilltop, the sixteen year old boy they killed. But you couldn’t say anything, not now. While Negan spewed bullshit, you looked to Carl for the first time since Negan had noticed you.

He was glaring at him. Something told you this wouldn’t go well, especially for Carl. He was going to say something but you didn’t know what. Negan noticed your attention strayed away from him, god knows he had to be the center of attention all of the time. This prompted him to put Lucille under your chin, directing you to look back at himself. Doing so, the barbed wire sliced the bottom of your chin open, causing you to wince slightly.

“What the hell are you getting out of this?” Carl exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention. You wipe the blood off your chin with your sleeve, staining the shirt you were wearing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you all hot n bothered.” Negan sympathized sarcastically. “Just leave her alone. Harassing her won’t do you any good.” Carl grimaces at Negan and he can’t help but laugh.

“Wow…” Negan smiles at Carl’s efforts to stick up for you, realizing that he could use it to break him. “So, I’m assumin you two are..well you know.” He suggests. You both look up at him with peevish looks. “I see why. You both got somethin in common.”

You look to Carl and he looks to you. You both avert your eyes back to Negan. “You’re both very, very easy to piss off. I imagine you’ve got a healthy relationship.” He taunts.

“I guess I’m just shocked you got a girl with that eye of yours, I bet you haven’t shown her what’s underneath that bandage huh?” Your eyes go wide at his comment. Carl doesn’t seem to react to it in any way, he was too angry. “The game you’re playing, it’s not gonna work.” Carl remarks. “You’re not gonna win.”

Negan kneels to Carl’s level, boring his eyes into his intently. The rage Carl felt gave him the urge to just kill Negan right there. That’d only get everyone else killed. “I guess we’ll find out.” Negan smirks before returning back to towering over the lot of you.

God, the embarrassment.

a/n: hey guys currently writing this very hungry. anyway i have a final tmr for english and im praying it goes well muehehe IVE BEEN STRUGGLING TO FIND THE MOTIVATION TO WRITE but tomorrow is my last day of school so you guys will get me for about two months HAHAH you’re gonna be so sick of me. also, don’t be worried to send requests even if you think they’re bad, half the time they’re really good so keep sendin them!

taglist: @zomb-1-egutzz @evilnight07 @ilikestrawberriesandwomen

[munson-blurbs]

Hey, I love your writing so much! If you’re taking requests I’d like a short fic about reader mourning the loss of their dog? I just lost my girl Sasha and would like a comfort fic , Eddie or Steve, either is cool with me- phantom

Hi, love 💚 I'm so sorry to hear about your loss, and I hope this fic helps you through the grieving process. I went with Eddie for this one.

TW: death, loss of a pet, grief CW: 690

--

It feels like it should be raining. 

The sun hangs high in the sky, a gentle breeze blowing every so often. The weather gives no indication of any impending storm, not even a hint of gray in the white clouds. But to you, there’s a darkness that even the brightest light can’t repair. 

There will be no more wagging tail and excited barking to greet you when you come home. The realization cleaves your heart clean in half. 

Tears burn at your eyes and you let them fall, sliding down your cheeks and plopping unceremoniously onto the concrete stoop beneath you. 

“Hey.”

You look up and see Eddie standing in front of you, a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of daisies in his grasp. 

“Hi.”

The wrapping crinkles under his fingers as he sits beside you. He scoots close enough so you can rest your head on his shoulder. An ugly sob escapes you in a dramatic heave, but he refrains from commenting. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. 

You bask in the comforting silence, no expectations to talk or bare your feelings. Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead and sighs. 

“Can I say something?” He asks, and for the first time, you notice that he’s been crying, too. When you nod, he softly says, “She was a really good dog. The best, actually.”

“Mhm.” You don’t dare open your mouth for fear of starting up the waterworks again. 

“I keep thinking about the time I brought over burgers from Benny’s,” he continues, “and I left them on the counter for two seconds, and she tore into them.”

You scoff lightly. “It was more than two seconds.”

“Okay, well, I didn’t time it or anything. But it was fast. Like, lightning speed.” He taps his toe, knee brushing against the flower stems. “These are for you, by the way.”

Taking the daisies from him, you hold them to your nose and inhale. Fresh, new, alive. The juxtaposition has your chin wobbling embarrassingly. “Th-Thanks, Eds.”

Another pause, then: “Y’know, I lost a pet once, too.”

You swivel around, eyebrows pinched together. “I didn’t know Wayne let you have a pet.”

“He didn’t. I had to keep it a secret.”

“How did you manage to keep a dog a secret?” It’s not as though he and his uncle lived in a mansion; the tiniest Chihuahua could be easily spotted in their trailer. 

Eddie grins. “Who said anything about a dog?”

“A cat?”

He shook his head, giving the same response for your guesses of rabbit, lizard, and bird. 

“Do I even wanna know?”

He presses a hand to his heart in feigned offense. “I can’t believe you don’t remember Ant-chovy.”

You burst out laughing despite the weighty grief bogging you down. “Are you seriously comparing the death of my dog to the death of an ant?”

“He was my friend!” Eddie retorts. “And he was murdered right before my very eyes!”

You knock your shoulder into his with a playful shove. “Weren’t you the one who stepped on him?”

He scowls and plucks the bouquet from your hands. “I bring you flowers in your time of need, and you mock me?”

A smile tugs at your lips. “My deepest apologies. And my condolences for the loss of your dear friend, Ant-chovy. Who certainly was not an ant and who you definitely knew for more than five minutes.”

“Thank you.” Eddie gives you back the daisies; this time, he leans his head on your shoulder. “You’re gonna get through this.”

“Feels like I’ll be sad forever.”

He nods. “I know. But you won’t be. And I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to fuck off.”

You take a deep breath. “Is it okay if we talk a little bit about her? Like, share memories of her? Just for a little bit?”

“Course it’s okay.” Eddie smiles, coaxing the emotions from you without even trying. “You wanna go first?”

You do. With each word, the sunshine doesn’t sting quite as harshly; the blue sky seems less out of place. And should the rain start to fall, you will always find shelter in Eddie. 

--

[strangerscallmegray]

Are we the same?

Hello guys, I hope you like this. I was out looking for Joel Miller x son!reader fics and I could find very little male reader or GN reader fics and so I impulsively decided to create this series. I hope you will like it. The first chapter is going to be exploring Joel's PoV. I'm new here so I don't understand much, hopefully I'll learn along with you.

So, the thing is I have not seen the last of us, it is just recently that I discovered the fanfics and I really liked them, I'm going to watch it soon. So, I apologize for any timeline discrepancy as well as factual errors that might be there in the story lolol.

------- x --------

Joel had a difficult relationship with his son. It was not that Joel did not love him, no, he did, he immensely loved the kid, how could he not? He was his son. You were the last remaining person from his family. The life and family he had had before everything went to shit. But there was a distance between you and Joel, one that Joel deeply lamented. It started after Sarah died. Joel felt like you blamed him for what had happened. You had always been a loving older brother to Sarah and losing her broke you too, you were never quite the same and he couldn’t say he was either.

Joel watched as you went outside the house after the latest argument you had had. Arguments were not uncommon between the two of you. It was simple, Joel still felt you were too young to be going on patrols with him. Whereas you felt you had never been more ready and to see Tess take your side had been heartbreaking for Joel. Tess would not forget the look of betrayal that had etched onto his face when she had done that. Tess had later given him a lecture saying if he wanted his son then he’d have to let him do what he wants to do even if that included danger. Joel had cried out in anger then saying that he’d rather have his son alive and hate him than dead. He and Tess had needed a lot of time to recover from that. He had already lost one child and he was not planning to lose another any time soon. Now, since Joel did not have a say in what you wanted to do, he put his everything into training you. He wanted to teach you everything he knew so that you could survive even if he is not there. He was very proud of you and how far you had come. You never complained when it came to training, even if you had arguments with your dad, sparring sessions were a must, even if it just helped in releasing pent-up frustration.

Joel was sometimes very harsh with you and he knows that. It was because maybe he got so lost when he lost Sarah that he forgot he had another person depending on him. Some days the guilt consumes him and the others he feels like you need the rigidity to make yourself better, that it is what you seek from him. Tess had told him many times that his harshness might reflect negatively on you since you were only 16. Sometimes he thought that surely Sasha must be rolling in the grave over what kind of a father he had become. A memory flashed through this head.

“This is a waste of time, they’ll have finished turning you by the time you get back up from the ground.” He said.

You were panting having fallen on the ground. “I am…..trying.” you said in between of breaths.

“Not like that you are not, the only thing you are trying to do right now is getting yourself killed, if that was your mission, congratulations, you succeeded.”

You had glared at him, still not getting up, “What the hell is your damn problem with me!?” you had shouted and stood up walking up to your dad. “You can see I’m trying, we only started practicing a week back and Tess says I’m doing good, why do you always have to be so critical of me as if I can never be any good?”

“I don’t know what Tess has been seeing, all I am seeing is that it was a mistake allowing a 14-year-old out on patrols.” Joel had said. He couldn’t understand why he was being so unnecessarily harsh.

Tears stung your eyes as you said, “I will prove you wrong Dad, I will be the best hunter you’ve ever seen.” You had said and walked away.

And you were most definitely the best that Joel had seen, he just failed to communicate it to you. He wished he had been more understanding back then.

Then, then came Ellie, the kid who reminded him too much of Sarah, the kid full of life and so opposite from both him and you. In the beginning he didn’t know how to act around her but slowly he warmed up to her. She was not replacing Sarah, nobody could replace his Sarah ever but Ellie was not Sarah, Ellie was Ellie and that was why he had grown to care for her and he knew he had grown paternal towards her. He had seen the way you interacted with Ellie too, you had never held something she didn’t even know against her. You had even taught her a couple of things and his heart swelled with happiness whenever he saw that. An emotion he was sure he would never feel again.

“Is he your son?” She had asked pointing towards you who was standing with the group explaining something to them.

“Yes.” He had said, short and crisp, he didn’t want to discuss it and he hoped she’d get the hint. She did not.

“Then why is he on patrols? He doesn’t seem that much older.” She looked curiously.

He had looked at her and glared “Why don’t you ask him the same then maybe even I will know.”

And after that, it felt the most normal than ever in Jackson, but he just wished he could mend his relationship with his son. He wished you would stop looking at everything he did for you in negative light and stop seeing him as the enemy.

Soo, I hope you liked that, let me know what you think. The next chapter will be your PoV.

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Blood, character death

Chapter: 5.04

“You still miffed that you’re staying?”

You tried to frown at Daryl’s question but couldn’t help but let the seriousness slip and laugh. You were ecstatic on the inside and doubted anything could knock you off the cloud you were drifting on. Beth was alive. Daryl had returned without Carol, but a boy named Noah was with him, who informed your group that Beth was alive. The same people who had taken Carol had taken your older sister, so now Rick was leading the way to bring the both of them back.

Once Beth and Carol were back, you’d be able to regroup with Maggie and Glenn. It filled your heart with so much joy that soon you could be with both your sisters again.

Of course you wanted to go rescue Beth with them, but Rick wouldn’t allow it; he said it was too dangerous, which you understand. “I wasn’t miffed, just disappointed.”

“Yeah right,” Daryl ruffles your hair, and he glances down at the hole you were digging. “That’s a good trench; I’ll see if I can get anymore wood and shit for it before I go.”

Most of the group had made spears out of wood from the pews in the church. You placed the DIY spears in front of the trenches surrounding the building so that any walkers that got too close would be impaled on them.

“Thanks.”

Not long after Daryl and Sasha handed you smaller pieces of wood for you to make smaller weapons out of, all of the group minus you, Carl, Father Gabriel, Michonne, and Judith stayed behind. Soon as they leave, Carl and Michonne nail the door shut to help slow down anyone or anything trying to get inside the church. The hammering noise causes Judith to cry, so you go and pick her up from the makeshift crib.

“Hey, hey, what’s all the noise about?” You ask gently, trying to shush her as you do. “The banging will stop in a moment, and then you go back to sleep.”

Hearing a scratching noise, you glance over at Gabriel, who is frantically trying to scratch dried blood off the wooden floors.

He was definitely starting to show signs he’s coming unhinged.

—

You smile brightly at Judith as she giggles, feeling your finger move over her tummy. Carl sits down beside you; he looks pleased to see his baby sister happy. He rubs his finger over her cheek gently. “What’s so funny, Judy?”

“She liked having her name spelled out on her tummy,” you explain, before tickling her.

Carl looks at you slightly confused. “Her name spelled out?”

“My mom used to spell out words on mine and Beth’s back during bath time, and we’d need to guess what it was.”

Teasingly, he says, “It sounds lame.”

Your brows raise in amusement. “Turn around.”

Carl let out a deep sigh, pretending he didn’t want to do as you asked, but he began laughing the minute you spelled out the first letter.

“Z…o…m… Are you really spelling out zombie?”

You burst out laughing, “Okay, so it’s not that hard, but when we were kids, it was pretty fun to play. Plus, my mom would always pick bigger words; I’d always get so mad because Beth always got the ones I couldn’t spell right.”

He offers you a kind smile before picking Judith up and hugging her. Quietly, he says, “I tried to help Gabriel choose a weapon, but I think I just upset him.”

“He’s been isolated for so long, I don’t think he fully understands how bad things are.”

“I know; I just wish he would let us help prepare us.”

“He will come around eventually,” you said, letting Judith hold your finger with her whole hand. “I didn’t know much about the world outside my daddy's farm until the day he needed to help save a young boy's life.”

—

You and Carl remained sitting on the floor of the church, playing with Judith, until yelling from outside, followed by banging at the door, caught your attention. “Is that Father Gabriel?”

Michonne starts to break off the wooden slabs, preventing the door from opening. Carl hands you his sister before going to help her. Soon as the door opens, Gabriel falls to the floor, then hurry’s to scramble back up before the small herd of walkers burst into the church. You all follow Gabriel into his office, where you discover he’s put a hole in the floor that leads outside by ripping up the floorboards. When you hear scratches on the other side of the door, which was threatening to burst open, you nudge Carl to go. He jumps into the crawl space first, then you hand him Judith, then do the same thing seconds later.

When you reach outside, Carl helps you stand with his free hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, are you?”

He nods before trying to calm Judith, who had begun crying with all the fast movements and loud noises going on around her. Michonne crawls out next, and the three of you wait nervously to see if Father Gabriel will make it out.

“Do you think he's…” You trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence, but are pleasantly surprised when you see a hand holding a bloody machete reaching out from underneath the church. You rush over and offer Gabriel your hand to help him stand up.

“Let’s go,” Michonne says, waving for you to follow. She makes her way to the front of the church and re-locks the doors, trapping the walkers inside.

—

You pace back and forth, trying to think of what to do next. You had hardly any supplies between you and enough baby food to last two days at most. “Do you think we would be able to clear the church?”

“No,” Michonne says, shaking her head. “Not with just us.”

Before you can say anything else, a fire truck comes speeding towards the church. Carl grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you back into the tree line, keeping you out of view of whoever it is.

The fire trucks smash into the front of the church, collapsing the front of the roof, making it impossible for anyone to go back inside. When the side of the truck opens and you notice your sister coming out, you run over to her with your arms wide open.

“Maggie!”

Glenn joins in on the hug and asks, “What the hell happened here?”

You pull back from the hug and say, “The dead got inside, but it’s not important; Beth is alive!”

Maggie’s eyes become glossy. “She’s alive?”

“She’s at a hospital in Atlanta,” Michonne confirms. “Rick and the others have gone to get her.”

Tears of happiness fall from Maggie’s eyes. She pulls you in for another hug and kisses the crown of your head. It wouldn’t be long until the three of you were reunited at last.

—

“Wait here,” Maggie says, closing the side door of the truck. “There’s still dead roaming around; stay in the truck until we clear the area.”

You roll your eyes and slump back into the chair. Maggie just shakes her head and softly laughs before walking off.

You watch as the group takes out the few walkers that approach them. You bounce your knees in anticipation, waiting for Beth to appear at any moment. You missed her so much; you missed her hugs, the braids she used to braid your hair, and you even missed hearing her singing, which used to drive you crazy. You try to distract yourself by focusing on Judith, who was babbling away in her brother's arms.

“There’s my dad,” Carl says, leaning forward to look past you. “Oh shit, y/n, I think something is wrong.”

You don’t hear what Carl says next to you as your eyes lock on to the figure in Daryl’s arms. “Beth!”

Carl figures it out before you and tries to reach for your hand, but you snatch it away, swing open the door, and jump down out of the fire truck. “Beth, Beth!” When you almost reach Daryl, you can see the red staining her blonde hair. “Why is there blood in her hair?”

Before you can get any closer, Rick spins and blocks your view. “Don't; you don’t want to see her like this.”

Your legs give way, and you crumble to the ground, sobbing. Beth was gone. Your sister was dead.

[yourlocaltrashcan657]

Mental Hospital AU! Yandere! Attack on Titan x Female Reader

~|Eren Ending|~

Looking into his green eyes, Y/N never knew how much she would dread the head the words that would escape his lips.

”Y/N! I was looking for you. You and I can get out of here alive if we hurry up!” Eren explained as he grabbed her hand.

”Where’s Armin?! Jean said that you and Armin were together, so where is he?” Y/N asked.

”Armin got crushed under rubble. He told me to escape before Bertolt and Reiner set any more bombs off near me.” Eren answered.

”W-what?! It was those two..?!” Y/N exclaimed. “We have to get back to the staff room so that I can have you-“ 

“No!” Eren yelled as he interrupted her. “You and I can make it out together!”

”But we can’t! You’re a patient and I have to make sure you get to safety.” Y/N said.

”Y/N.. I feel safe with you! I don’t need this place to help me, you help me whenever I see you, talk to you! I love you so much Y/N, please!” Eren confessed.

”Eren..” Y/N began to say until he dragged her off, making their way to the nearest exit.

”Eren I don’t think I can return these feelings in the current environment but I need Mikasa to at least know you are safe!” Y/N said making Eren stop in his tracks.

”Forget Mikasa! You and I can start a new life together. I just need you to trust me. Please Y/N.” Eren begged.

The two stood there in the dim, red lit hallway. Screams could be heard from every corner of the building, making Y/N shiver. She still had to find Krista, Ymir and Sasha. Where they even okay?

”Eren.” Y/N said, getting his attention. As he ripped his head towards her, Y/N gently kissed his cheek and gripped his hands.

”Please understand that we can escape together after I find my friends. You and I can live together after this. No one will intrude our life except for our friends, I promise.” Y/N said.

Eren could only blush bright red at her actions. She was devoting herself to him in exchange to look for her possibly dead or alive friends.

”L-let’s go then.” Eren said as they quickly ran together towards the different Wards.

Making their way into each of the Wards, their bodies couldn’t be found nor any of their belongings. A wave of relief washed over Y/N as she turned back to Eren, who was already looking at her.

”Y/N, someone dangerous could be lurking around here and trying to take you. We have to get going now, please.” Eren said.

Y/N smiled at him and made their way to the emergency exit, which thankfully was not blocked like the others. Y/N had Eren wear her uniform coat to disguise himself as a doctor.

”There’s a lot of people Y/N..” Eren muttered as they joined the large group of doctors, who had rushed out in time.

”It’ll be alright.” Y/N said as she looked around and saw Ymir clutching onto Krista and allowing Sasha to hug onto her side as they all seemed to be crying or in some sort of pain. “Eren, I see my friends.”

”Let’s go to them.. wait no. They’ll tell someone about me and I’ll be separated from you!” Eren said.

”I promise you they won’t. Let’s go.” Y/N said as she led him towards the trio.

”Y/N! We were so worried about you!” Krista said as she hugged onto Y/N, sobbing harder than before. 

“We thought you were stuck inside the building!” Sasha explained as she also hugged Y/N.

”I’m glad you made it out, you idiot.” Ymir said, smiling at Y/N.

”Guys, as happy as I am to see you, I have to tell you something.” Y/N said as she let go of Krista and Sasha and held Erens hand.

”Isn’t that one of your patients?!” Sasha said not too loudly.

“I don’t know how to explain it in a way that will make you feel comfortable but, Eren loves me in a way that keeps him stable. I feel as though I need to be around him to help him.” Y/N calmly explained.

”But he’s a Mentally Unstable Patient..” Krista said as she looked at the towering boy. “Are you sure Y/N?”

Looking back at Eren and smiling Y/N simply said yes. Sasha and Krista supported the two and even Ymir decided to go along with the plan.

.

.

.

“Eren! Where did you put the washing?” Y/N yelled out loud as she looked around their shared bedroom.

”Uhm, I think it’s in the washing machine already..?” Eren replied as he looked back at the TV with his little girl on his lap.

It had been at least a a few years after the incident. Y/N got a different job thanks to her smarts whilst Eren was a stay at home dad. Being the smart person she was. Y/N got a house just near her old apartment with her friends.

Raising a daughter was fun for Eren as he would tie her hair in a man bun just like his newer look and would constantly play with her. She was only 2 years old but you three were happy.

Plopping down onto the couch beside Eren, Y/N took her daughter from his hands and put rested her head on his shoulder as they cuddle closer together.

”I’m glad that no one can disturb us Y/N..” Eren said as he kissed her head.

”Yeah.. I’m glad that Carla will be able to grow up in a nice environment instead of some people. You and I are doing the best we can.” Y/N said as she cradled the toddler in her arms.

“I love you so much Y/N. I hope you know that.” Eren whispered.

”I know, love. I love you too.” Y/N replied. 

[erwinsprincess]

mine, always and forever: chapter 4

characters: OC (female, y/n, she/her) x Commander Erwin Smith

warning: this story will contain 18+ elements including but not limited to childhood trauma, age-gap, power dynamics, graphic sexual content, substance abuse, self-harm, death/violence/blood, and language (more in depth tags will be at the beginning of each chapter if need be)

aot semi-cannonverse (takes place in aot universe but I am taking some artistic liberties with timelines, characters, world politics, and happenings)

plot: (y/n) is a young (female, she/her) cadet (22 y/o) with a complicated past. escaping from a life of meaningless pleasures in a foreign land, y/n hopes to make a difference by giving her heart as a member of the scout regiment. with only her brothers by her side, she steps into a world of uncertainty. upon integrating herself within her rank, y/n meets a man that would flip everything she knows about herself upside down... and she likes it.

author's note: this story is my own personal delusion about meeting and falling in love with Commander Erwin if I was in the aot verse. therefore, the character is loosely based on my life experience and self-image. however, it is my hope that all of you will see something of yourself in the MC and all of you Erwin-loving baddies will enjoy our blondie in a new story. I am also new to Tumblr and it seems there are endless things I must learn, so feel free to kindly correct me if I fail to add something to my posts that is necessary for your reading enjoyment.

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“She’s stable, but she’ll be in pain for the next few weeks. She needs to rest, Sasha”

“Yes ma’am.” You heard Sasha’s voice responding to Nurse Maura. “I imagine she’s been doin’ a whole lot of sleeping the past few days.”

You shifted in the hospital bed that had become your home the past few days. Or was it weeks? Lying in that hospital bed for however long had been torturous the first few days. The ripping and searing pain from your injuries had been nothing compared to the pain you felt having lost your brother, Misha. You saw it in your nightmares, causing you to jolt awake in the night in a fit of tears, sobbing, and cold sweat across your forehead. You saw Misha’s terrified face, heard his screams, and felt the visceral pain of kneeling before your brother’s lifeless torso, screaming your grief into the endless blue sky above.

The rest of the day was a blur. Even seeing Commander Erwin before you, standing so close to you with his hands on your shoulders did not register in your mind. You remembered this look on his face, so grave. You remembered his words to you as he looked into your red and teary eyes.

"It's over. Y/N. We failed."

The nurse told you that according to witnesses, you had passed out. Your heart skipped a beat when she told you the Commander caught you and carried you to the cart carrying soldiers too wounded to ride their horse. Whether the blackout was due to physical pain, blood loss, or grief they were not certain, and it had not mattered but you needed medical attention.

Your brothers came to see you that very night. You shared some time with them and explained the situation from your perspective while all three of you mourned. Misha was the peacekeeper, the glue that seemingly held everything together because he was so sure of himself. He was the calm in the storm, and now you would have to brave the storm without him. You hugged Alexei before he left for the night. Nikolai held you in a prolonged hug as he broke into tears once more.

“Y/N, don’t ever do that again. We could have lost you too.” He pulled back from the hug to look you in the eyes. “You were careless to let yourself be grabbed by that titan.”

You tried to interrupt and explain yourself but he continued.

“I know you were running on autopilot and I know you were trying to save him, but you need to learn self-preservation. We keep ourselves alive first, and then we help our fellow soldier.” He paused. “I just don’t want to lose you too Y/N. You’re my baby sister and I know I gave you a hard time growing up, but it’s because I knew you were capable of so much. You really are growing up to be a strong young woman. I’m proud of you and you know our father would be too.”

You swallowed the knot in your throat that felt the size of an apple. Through tears, you responded.

“I don’t know if I’m proud of me. I think he would have been horrified to know the type of person I was before we joined the Scouting Regiment.”

His eyebrows pressed together in a worried manner. “All of that is behind you. You are no longer ‘her’, nor should you be ashamed. You were pushed into that world against your will.”

He pulled you in for one final hug and a kiss on the side of your head, the way siblings often do. “Get some rest.”

The next few days, you received visits from several of your friends. Sasha had been by daily to help fix your hair and bring you cute pajamas. You asked why she even bothered to bring pajamas to wear and why she fussed over your hair so much if you were just rotting in a hospital bed, but she insisted. Sasha was as good as gold.

Eren paid you a visit yesterday. He usually was very laid back and quite arrogant, much quieter than some of his other friends, and often being called “gloomy”. But you understood Eren and he seemed to understand you. You sat and talked for a while and you hadn’t noticed how close he had drifted. He was practically in bed with you at this point. You had been in physical contact all evening, his hand resting on your thigh as you talked.

“You look beautiful as ever.” He said quietly after a lull in your conversation, his thumb drawing small circles on your inner thigh.

Your eyes were fixated on his wandering hand, when they drifted to meet his mesmerizing green eyes.

“I look about as awful as I feel.” You felt yourself tearing up.

Being in the hospital for a week had really taken a toll on you. Your normally full muscles and athletic build felt much more brittle and weak due to inactivity and lack of appetite, or ability to keep food down. Your skin lacked the golden glow you were accustomed to due to lack of sunlight, and you felt as though your energy was not improving, despite only resting for several days.

"You have never looked awful." His hand reached up to your cheek as he leaned in. Your lips gently brushed his before he said in a whisper almost too quiet to hear.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hand drifted up your thigh as he deepened the kiss ever so slightly. The sensation of his hand on your bare thigh so close to where he used to touch you, caused your back to arch slightly. You brought your hands up to his face, wrapping your arms around his neck.

A day later, you wondered what would have happened had there not been a knock at the door, a plump and cheerful nurse there to deliver your medication and some broth.

You looked to Sasha and the nurse still standing in the doorway. Sasha was carrying a basket of body oils, perfume, fragrant shampoo, and a fresh set of baby blue pajamas.

"What is the occasion?" you asked as she brought the basket to your bedside and began unloading the contents.

"Does it require an occasion to make sure my friend feels 'purty' while she's on the mend?" she drawled. Sometimes it took minutes to decipher Sasha's specific dialect, as you were familiar with only the formal dialect of this language. It often made you chuckle at how charming she was. Some guy will be really lucky to marry her, you thought to yourself.

You spent the first half of the day with Sasha fussing over your bath, your hair, your skincare, and trying to feed you "something to put some color on your cheeks." You thanked your friend profusely, as this was the most like yourself you had felt in a long time. You felt so fresh, and by this time your hair had air-dried into your natural soft bouncy waves. Sasha pulled some baby blue ribbon from her basket and tied back the top section of your hair into a loose bow. The pajama set you wore came from your home country, as you had brought most of your clothes with you. It was a fitted one piece with long sleeves and the bottoms were shorts. The material was soft and had a simple floral pattern.

Sasha informed you that she had been "holding down the fort" at the orphanage while you were in the hospital. You were instructed by the doctor that you would need to take a break for several weeks from taking care of the children, in order to not exacerbate your injuries. Injuries that included, but were not limited to, a few broken ribs, a cracked pelvis, several deep bruises, a sprained ankle and wrist from the fall, and possible internal bleeding that the primitive medical practices here were luckily able to get under control. Having studied medicine for three years back home, you knew how severe your injuries could have been, and that your prognosis could have been much worse.

Sasha kissed you on top of the head and promised to be back tomorrow for your hospital release. She handed you a book with a questionable title, and you shot her an incredulous look.

"It'll keep you warm tonight." She winked before walking out the door.

You looked down at the book and rolled your eyes at the obviously filthy content it would contain. Not that you were any stranger to your own sexuality, but it had been quite a while since your last time reading a toe-curling novel. You had simply not had the time.

Hours passed and the novel pulled you in as the sun began to set. A younger nurse brought you dinner and the poppyseed tea that brought you some pain relief, and helped you feel a tad tipsy, which was fun for a change. When asked what book you were so engrossed in, you responded awkwardly that it was a romance.

"Oh a romance." The nurse chuckled and she blushed. "I have a few romance novels of my own."

You shared a laugh together before she interjected.

"Oh sorry the reason I came in so late is because you have a visitor. I know it's late and I can tell him to come back tomorrow, but you will probably want to see this gentleman." she said quickly.

You raised a curious eyebrow at her.

"He's very handsome and he's brought you flowers." she smiled. "Do you have an admirer Miss Y/N?"

Your heart fluttered and your face began to heat as you tried to work out in your mind who it could be. Eren had already visited, and there was no other man who would bring you flowers that the nurses had not met.

"Um, yes ma'am do send him in." You urged. There was no way you would sleep tonight if you did not find out who this mystery man was.

She smiled excitedly and hurried out of the room. You tried to look nonchalant, by glancing back down at your book when you heard the door creak open. You heard a muffled, "No you're perfectly fine Commander I am positive Miss Y/N will be overjoyed to see you."

You almost threw up as you watched his frame enter the doorway. His face was painted with a soft smile, but there was an obvious sadness behind his eyes. He had not been resting well since the most recent expedition, this was also evident from the darker circles around his eyes.

"So you're the handsome man with he flowers that the nurse was telling me about."

You heard the words leaving your mouth as you leaned forward in your bed, placing the book beside your legs. What is wrong with you? Damn that poppyseed tea.

You felt at ease when the fake smile he wore prior to your embarrassing outburst changed to a genuine smile as a chuckle escaped his lips. His eyes were slightly closed when he looked to you and said "I certainly am glad to see you're doing better." He looked relieved. Had you really looked that bad the day of the incident?

He walked over to your bedside and sat on the bench next to your bed. He placed the flowers he was carrying on your bedside table and your jaw dropped as you had just now taken your eyes off of his face and noticed the flowers he brought you.

"How- How did you find-?" you stammered while still admiring the flowers.

"There is an exotic goods trader in town at the market. I went down there hoping they would have some." He paused. "I will not take credit though, I asked Sasha what your favorite flowers were."

The flowers were the national flower of your home country, an absolute treasure to you ever since you were a little girl. The pale blue hue of the roses nearly matched the ribbon in your hair and you leaned over to smell the familiar scent as nostalgia washed over you. You winced as you settled back down on your bed. Commander Erwin instinctively reached his arm out to you, as he watched you try to settle back into place. You grabbed his forearm with your free hand and squeezed gently, using him as leverage to ease the impact of resting back on your bed.

"They are so beautiful, thank you so much." You said with a few tears in your eyes from the searing pain in your torso from twisting. "You did not have to go to so much trouble. Thank you so much."

"I would have been here to visit much sooner, as I try to make it a point to visit wounded soldiers, but because of the nature of the expedition's failure I have been visiting families of the fallen and getting deposed by our leadership and its been-." He stopped and looked to you. "My apologies. I should not be sharing my troubles with you L/N. I am here to wish you well." He smiled but it was pained. He was so beautiful, even in his current state.

The mid summer sunset was casting its golden rays through the window in your room, the jasmine and rosemary that had been brought to you by Christa and Ymir were aromatic enough to fill the room with their sweet scent. The atmosphere in the room felt dream-like, and the man sat before you in a white button down, with slightly disheveled hair and tired eyes was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

"Are you okay?" you asked as plainly as you would ask a friend but his reaction to hearing it was unusual. His face was unreadable as he considered your question. Had anyone ever actually asked him how he was? Or if he was okay? It was in this moment you realized that despite being the decorated military commander who fears nothing and no one, he was a man. He was simply a man at the end of the day, who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Yes of course I am.” He responded, but you did not believe him. “I find myself more concerned with your wellbeing this very moment.”

“I’m okay.” You avoided eye contact. It was partially a lie after all.

Silence fell over the room for a moment. Your eyes burned as you tried to hold back tears, but it was no use. Your eyes met his again. Tears began to roll down your cheeks when you tried to blink them away but it was too late. The emotions you had been yet to feel, or previously unable to feel, were finally being felt.

“Y/N.” He said as he noticed you started to cry.

Wiping your tears away, you felt everything at all once: anger, sadness, heartbreak, fear, anxiety, and above all physical pain.

“It’s so unfair.” You sniffled. “It’s so unfair it should have been me. Misha was a good man. He deserved to live a long life and become a husband and a father and live a good life. But he’s gone and I’ll never get him back.” You sobbed into your hands, not caring that your commanding officer was sat inches from you.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and a gentle squeeze. You looked up through bleary eyes and sniffles.

“Y/N. Don’t ever say that again.” He said very sternly. “You survived. I know you’re facing some survivor’s guilt, which I’m no stranger to feeling, but you cannot sit here and say you should have been the one to die.”

“But-“ you started.

“No Y/N. Misha was a good man and a good soldier, yes, but none of that matters outside the walls.” Eyes remained locked to yours as if he did not want you to miss a single word he uttered. “I’ve lost people close to me, so has Captain Levi, and you are allowed to grieve and to take your time to heal, but you cannot say that your life should have been lost in place of theirs. You’re still here for a reason Y/N.”

Your chest felt like a 10,000 kg weight was laid on top of you and your eyes continued to spit out tears.

“I’m sorry. I just never wanted to live in a world without him.” You exhaled. “But maybe he’s doing better than all of us right now, he’s in a place where there’s no pain, no fear, no suffering, and he’s with our dad.” All of your thoughts felt like coping, but they sure made you feel better.

“You’re going to be okay Y/N. Misha was a good role model for you to follow, but I think you’re stronger than you realize. You greatly impressed all of us in various aspects of your training.” He chuckled. “I mean it’s almost like you kids from the Slavic countries are born to be superhuman.”

That earned a laugh from you. “Yeah we’ve got top tier genetics.” You said sarcastically of course, while wiping away your tears.

Your conversation carried on for longer than you realized. He asked quite a lot about your upbringing and your experiences so far as a soldier. He asked about your injuries and you explained in detail what happened that day to cause your injuries.

“You can even see where the titan’s fingers were wrapped around my legs.” You pulled the covers off of your bare thighs into reveal dark blue bruises in an irregular banded pattern that spanned across your thighs. “They’re on my torso too and my back but the worst of it is internal. My ankle was sprained but is doing much better.”

He cleared his throat after a few moments of silence. “Goodness you really took some damage didn’t you?” Realizing that your entire body was on display for your commanding officer since you had removed the covers you quickly pivoted and attempted a joke to break the tension, which did earn a laugh.

“If you think this is bad.” Gesturing to your bruising. “You should see the other guy.”

Had you made the Commander nervous looking at your body? The thought raced through your mind as you replaced the covers across your lap, nonchalantly.

You spoke well into the evening as the golden dusky sunset was gone and replaced by a cool summer night. He must have noticed the lateness of the hour because he changed the subject quickly back to business.

“The doctor informed me that you should not continue your volunteer service with the children until your injuries heal. I would not want you falling behind in your obligatory hours but I know there is not much you can do in your current state so I have a proposition for you.”

You nodded.

“Hange needs a research assistant. Well, she has Moblitt of course but she needs a third-party to review documents and papers that she is rifling through for her research and make notes to make the process more efficient. I also need your help in that same vein because I must read and approve each of her proposals as I see fit. Unfortunately I am not well-versed in science and I figure you can help translate so I am better able to understand. Because you have a strong medical background I thought you would be perfect for the role.”

Your heart felt so full. He really believed in your capabilities as a scientist, and as something other than a pretty face. No one ever took you seriously growing up when you told them you wanted to be a doctor and help women have babies. Because you were conventionally attractive, most people assumed you were an idiot and so you developed a bit of a complex in regard to your intellect. Commander Erwin really does believe in your abilities.

“I would love to. It would count toward my volunteerism? Because I regularly read research papers on embryology and human development as that was to be my field of specialty so this would be a breeze for me.” You said confidently.

“You’re free to use my study to read and take notes in. I only offer because I’m aware that working in Hange’s lab might be a tad distracting.” He emphasized the word “distracting” because it’s true. Anytime you were in the same room as Hange for longer than 20 minutes you felt like you needed a nap after. She was one of your favorite in leadership but sometimes she was more “Hange” than others, but you loved her either way.

A chance to work in Commander Erwin’s study would be prime opportunity to spend time near him. Even though Eren was kind of a boyfriend, kind of not, you had fiery thoughts about Commander Erwin. He was exactly the type of man you always dreamed of: tall, confident, well-spoken, decently well-off financially, and very capable. This would mean you would get to see him daily, and look absolutely adorable pouring over books and papers while sipping your tea.

“It’s a deal. As much as I adore Hange, I probably would not get anything done. She has alllll the gossip, and I can’t resist.” You made yourself laugh watching the Commander raise an amused brow.

“Is that so?” He mused. “Gossip about anyone in particular?” Sneaky bastard was trying to find out if we talked about him.

“Commander Erwin.” You feigned being appalled by bringing a hand to your chest. “Rule number 1 of ‘Girl Talk’ is that you don’t tell boys what the girls are talking about. I’m so surprised at you.”

You were both smiling and he shook his head, as if he was dumbfounded by what you said. His eyes did not break contact with yours. The way he looked at you was, in your mind, full of affection and adoration. That being said, you always thought if a boy was nice to you it’s because he liked you. Men are different though. Commander Erwin was quite older than you and seemed not to be the type to mess about in any aspect of his life.

“I guess it’s true that you learn something new every day.” He said laughing as he grabbed his belongings. You almost felt sad that he was leaving, but your nighttime tea and the bowl of cherries you had been snacking on was putting you in a mood to sleep for hours.

“Thank you Y/N.” He said, still smiling softly. His eyes looked lighter and his brows less tense. You cocked your head to the side, slightly confused. “I haven’t had a nice conversation like this in a long time. Or shared many laughs recently for that matter.”

You smiled. “Thank you as well.” Feeling bold you decided to be vulnerable. “Something about talking to you makes me feel comfortable. Like everything is going to be alright. I feel like I may actually get some sleep tonight.”

He turned to look at you once more before leaving.

“We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the coming weeks. I imagine we will both be happier because of it.”

With your head buzzing from replaying your conversation over and over, there was no way you were sleeping tonight.

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[melishade]

Attack on Prime; Guren No Yumiya Commentary Part 2

Main Story

Part 1 commentary

Exciting News Everyone! The next chapter, retitled 'End of an era' is completed with 36,724 words (At least the rough draft is.) Now all I have to do is edit it and it will be ready to publish. But before I publish it, I want to get the Guren No Yumiya Commentary done first. So lets get into Part 2 of the Commentary!

Also spoilers ahead.

So we leave off with the human alliance traveling through the now crumbled walls to get to the initial Wall Rose hide out that they kept Eren in during season 1 of AOT because they have some spare supplies over there that they need to use. And I have a few character moments and interactions, like Sasha choosing to stay with Arcee with Pieck allowing her to stay on her back. Colt helping Lara as repayment for her kind treatment when Colt was recovering from the energon virus, Hanji and Erwin, and also the overall tense atmosphere between the alliance groups.

Now the campfire scene is pretty much identical to what was in the show, with a few exceptions. Yelena and Reiner are dead, Kenny, Erwin, Colt, and Lara are alive, and Arcee is in the picture. And as they discuss what to do in terms of getting to Optimus and Megatron a few things are brought up in the span of a few moments:

“Gabi.” Pieck had given her name.

“What?!” Colt exclaimed as he stood up, “You left a child with a titan?!”

“The Autobots have a no killing rule for humans,” Erwin explained, “Her being with an Autobot is the safest option right now considering the situation.”

Magath scoffed in response. “And that same ‘Autobot’ decided to attack Liberio and cause harm to innocent civilians. Now the Rumbling has been activated, and it’s because of you devils. Some hypocrites if I ever saw them.”

Jean was furious and shot up from his seat. “Hey! None of this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t send people to attack us and got Eren’s mom eaten! That’s how this whole damn thing started in the first place!”

Magath rolled his eyes. “So one person lost their mother. What about the millions upon millions of lives destroyed by the reign of the Eldian Empire? You’re losses don’t compare to the countless lives lost under your rule!”

“We had nothing to do with that! We didn’t know jack shit about that until you guys came in and ruined our lives!” Jean reminded, “You were left alone with the promise of not getting attacked! We left you alone for a century!”

“A century means nothing in the face of 2,000 years,” Magath shot back, “And suddenly turning against your own comrades and creating a paradise for yourselves is extremely out of character.”

“You know nothing about us!” Jean yelled.

“Jean, enough,” Hanji spoke up, “There’s no point in arguing. We’ve already seen the world outside the walls and learned about Optimus’ war. We can’t go back to being ignorant island devils. Besides, Magath is just surprised to see that we’re not acting like the devils he painted us to be. We’re going against genocide? Against a world that despises us? Who in their right mind would do that?”

Magath grew quiet at that, scowling a little before taking a drink out of the bottle he had on him.

“We still have to find a way to stop Eren,” Sasha spoke once again, “We need a plan, right?”

So the audience knows about the Autobots 'No Killing Humans Rule'. However, the Marleyans know nothing about the Autobots, and the last they met, was them attacking Liberio. Sure, Wheeljack and Arcee's involvement did decrease the casualty count compared to if Armin became the Colossal Titan. However the Autobots still killed humans during that attack. So in Magath's eyes, they're hypocritical. The jabs between Jean and Magath are the same. I have nothing else to add regarding that. So they get back on topic and Lara finally speaks up and gives information:

“Then the question remains: how many titan shifters can Eren summon at his command? And what abilities they possess?” Erwin asked.

“At least 1,385 titan shifters he would have under his command,” Lara answered Erwin, causing everyone to turn to her.

“Tybur,” Magath warned.

“Willy and my family are in danger; I have no choice,” Lara proclaimed before turning back to the others, “I say that number because there are some titan shifters who haven’t lived to full term. And the Tybur’s knowledge of the Eldian Empire is quite beneficial.”

“Such as?” Erwin pressed.

“The Beast Titan is not limited to one animal,” Lara explained, “It’s based on the users strengths and preferences. Meaning the Beast Titan is the one that has the most variety when it comes to titan shifters. It would take on animal forms not native to Paradis. With claws, jaws, and powerful skill sets. I could go through the entire animal kingdom and it still might not be enough to elaborate on the possible forms we might see. Dogs, rams, even snakes. The Colossal Titans would be the most dangerous to summon due to the blast range, but they’re not the most versatile for combat. Jaw Titans are smaller and weaker, but speed and agility is their ally. The War Hammer Titans would be the most problematic, considering the multitude of weapons that can be summoned from the very ground they walk on. I can give you even more information to utilize in order to defeat Eren Jaeger, but I have a request of my own.”

And Lara is willingly giving this information because she wants to use the Jackhammer to get her family out of the crossfire. If she can do that, then there's nothing that would distract her from completing her mission and stopping Eren from completing the Rumbling. Also I thought these exchanges were pretty fun.

“Your brother declared war on us,” Mikasa declared coldly, “He could have said anything else, considering he had the public listening to him willingly. He could have called for peace between our nations, but he decided to declare war on us.”

“…Hate me and my brother all you want, but I have six nieces and nephews that had nothing to do with the conflict,” Lara confessed, “I want them safe. After, you can do what you want to me and my brother.”

“But you don’t even have the War Hammer Titan,” Connie remarked, “Eren took it-!”

“I will get my power back,” Lara cut him off with warning.

“Okay.” Connie raised his hands in surrender.

I figured Mikasa would be mad at Willy for declaring war. Colt tries to beg for his family to be taken out of Liberio but that's immediately shut down due to the time that would be wasted transporting people from the mainland to the island. They don't have the resources to actually save all these people, which pisses Colt off.

“That…that’s not fair!” Colt shouted, “Annie has her father, and Lara might get her family back! Why can’t we go back to Liberio to get them out?!”

“Colt, the mission-!”

“I don’t care about the mission! I didn’t even want to become a warrior! I only did it because my uncle put us in danger!” Colt shouted at Pieck, “My brother and I were sacrificed to slaughter just to be safe! And all of that is going to be for nothing?! And I don’t even know where my brother is!”

Magath didn’t say anything, but part of him was internally fuming. How many of the Warriors and Warrior Cadets were actually loyal to Marley? But...considering what Colt had gone through, what the Warrior Cadets had endured for so long…how could they not hate Marley for treating them like a commodity? For threatening their lives daily? Colt only became a warrior because of his uncle. Of course he would never be truly loyal to the cause. But despite that…he still wanted him and the others to live.

Let's be real, none of the Eldians would ever be loyal to Marley if they were given a second option to get out of dodge. We know this. Once exposed to the truth, they at the very least start having second thoughts about carrying out Marley's plans. During this, Sasha confesses what happened to Falco on the Jackhammer. (I didn't really have anything for Falco since he was supposed to inherit the Jaws Titan and Ymir is still alive. So I decided to write him into a coma for Gabi's character development.)

Annie states that they need to kill Eren, and instead of Mikasa getting prepared to attack Annie, Mikasa can't really provide a retort to Annie because Eren's gotten a lot crueler and has actively harmed his own friends. Annie is then asked by Pieck why she's even helping at all, and Annie doesn't want to admit it, but she cares about them.

So the conversation proceed further along, and instead of Reiner being confronted about Marco, Magath is confronted by Kenny about his own inability to just work with everyone around him considering the stakes.

“No, because you’re the only one here who still has that piss poor attitude about even helping them out,” Kenny declared, gesturing to the Survey Corps.

“I still don’t think it makes you heroes, trying to make up for your past deeds,” Magath stated.

“Oh, no, I’m a piece of shit.” Kenny gestured, “Bottom of the barrel scumbag. I’ve even killed kids, but I’m not justifying my actions as a way to make the world a better place.”

Kenny pointed to the 104th. “They ain’t innocent either. Pretty sure they’ve killed innocent people when they’ve attacked Liberio. They’ve even killed my own men, which by the way,”

Kenny raised his bowl to them. “Props to ya. Ya really stepped up. But their shit was reactionary. Self defense even. You? Nah. You’re going around taking over countries, killing innocent people with the power of the titans. It don’t make you better than the Eldian Empire.” (Kenny would definitely praise someone for their skills and kill count, even if they are an enemy.)

Magath shot up to his feet. “It was-!”

“Atonement, whatever.” Kenny put the word in air quotes, “But ya still killed people with the titans. Top of that, all your child soldiers are fucked in the head. I’ve never made kids do my dirty work, like that one over there who said she was my kid.”

Everyone snapped their heads to Annie while the titan shifter seized up mid bite. (Yeah, there's no way that Kenny wouldn't have recognized Annie. Honestly, I'd like to think that he figured it out when he was walking with them to the Wall Rose hideout.)

“Yeah, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” Kenny commented before turning back to Magath, “But she was willing to defect from you because she hated you. Monkey brain was also doing his own thing with the mass suicide shit so he defects. Three of your warriors are dead. And your cadet said that he’s not loyal to Marley. Meanwhile, Tybur here was a pampered princess who let this shit happen in the first place.”

Kenny got in his face. “The way I see it, the only fucked up monster here is you, a slave to his own fucked up heroics, willing to kill kids to keep his hands clean. Now no army, few allies, you’re really at the end of your rope.”

Now Magath immediately makes a jab at Megatron in his retort, which is super easy for anyone to do, especially since Megatron did betray Marley and gave information to Paradis. And Kenny agrees that Magath is terrible, even going so far as to drop parts of his backstory to prove his point. Because remember, during Megatron's first mental breakdown, he basically dump his life story on Kenny for a bottle of wine, and also, because no one would believe Kenny if he ever talked about it. Which is why some of Kenny's comments throw Hanji off guard.

“Your friend: The Flying Titan,” Magath hissed, “Seemed really happy tormenting children and bringing destruction wherever he goes.”

Kenny laughed. “Oh yeah, the miner turned gladiator turned psycho warlord that destroyed his own home.”

“Miner?!” Hanji snapped their head at that while everyone else stared in surprise.

“Megatron’s the worst of the worst, and he hates humanity!” Kenny cackled, “All of it! He doesn’t give a shit if you’re from Marley or Eldia! And the funniest shit is that he’s the first one to jump into the fight to save it! He jumped in before the titan that loves humanity! What the hell does that say about you?!”

I've had Kenny's words geared up for a while. It's great. So a fight is about to escalate, but Arcee starts speaking.

“…the same…,” Arcee croaked, “…All…the same…”

Everyone turned their heads to Arcee, surprised she even spoke at all.

“Arcee, please rest,” Sasha pleaded with her.

“…It’s all the same.” Arcee ignored Sasha, “Home, Earth, here, it’s just arguing…and fighting…war…death…the world is ending and…you’re still fighting with each other.”

Everyone was in shock when they saw a tear dripping down the side of Arcee’s faceplate. “We just wanted a better world, and equal world, but all we did was fight. And kill…I’m so tired…why did I leave home…for the same thing? Why….am I…still alive?”

Arcee placed her remaining arm over her optics to hide her tears. “I didn’t want this…I never…never…”

Sasha immediately went to comfort Arcee while Magath lowered his arms to his side. Kenny could feel a twang of guilt before snatching Connie’s bowl of stew and storming off.

Because in the beginning, Arcee thought that everything was clear cut and dry. Autobots were the good guys, the Decepticons were the bad guys. After the war, the Autobots and Decepticons are recovering and Arcee is confronted with the truth that the Decepticons were just as damaged as the Autobots. Arcee can't handle that truth, leaves, ends up on the AOT world where she's considered the bad guy, and then gets a human child hurt. Arcee's beliefs are broken down, realizing that everything is the same and kind of just repeats over and over and it breaks her.

So Levi and Kenny talk, and before then I hint at the fact that Magath got infected with dark energon because he was protecting Colt from Porco by giving him his gas mask.

And as Kenny and Levi have their own talk, Kenny confesses that he's his uncle, just like in the anime. The difference is that, Kenny telling Levi while he's still alive, is going to hurt Levi more when Kenny actually dies!

“But…,” Kenny began, “You…you make me proud. Your ma’ would be proud of you.”

Levi lifted his head and noticed Kenny wiping something away on the side of his face.

“I’m horrible; I get it,” Kenny declared, “I tried to kill you and I left you. It doesn’t mean shit in the end, but…you’re my pride and joy….and I’m sorry.”

Kenny stood up. “Fuck, I’m going to sleep.”

And now we cut to Optimus and Megatron on the shores of Marley after they got knocked off of Eren's titan!

Optimus found himself violently coughing up saltwater as he forced himself to roll over in order to purge his insides. The Prime tried to focus his vision, and was confused when he saw grass underneath him.

“Well, good to see you’re not dead,” a voice commented.

Optimus looked up to see Megatron sitting on the edge of the shoreline with a rather bored expression. Optimus’ vision cleared and realized that they were on a beach. But which beach? Did they go back to Paradis?

“We’re on the mainland,” Megatron explained, “I needed to put some distance between us and Eren in order to come up with a strategy.”

Originally they were going to be on the back of a Colossal Titan that Megatron had killed and was now eroding, but considering how hot those things are and they can't float, it's better to just put them on the mainland. But they talk about how they want to deal with Eren. Megatron is saying they should kill him while Optimus is saying to not do that because:

“I am not killing Eren,” Optimus growled.

“He might not be giving you a choice,” Megatron retorted.

“Megatron-,”

“This is the exact same thing I did,” Megatron cut off, clearly fed up with Optimus’ denial of the situation, “I was blinded by my rage and lust for power, and it caused me to destroy our home to get it. Eren has been blinded by his desire for freedom since day one, and he’s going to destroy the whole world just to have a taste of it.”

“Quiet,” Optimus hissed.

“He is a prisoner of his own delusions!” Megatron yelled.

“He is a victim,” Optimus declared as he put his servos on the sides of his helm.

“He is a murderer, just like me and you!” Megatron yelled.

“I cannot fight someone I care about!” Optimus shouted, “Not again!”

Optimus is still emotionally compromised, and with his experiences with Megatron, how can he not be. So Megatron tones it down and they have a more civil conversation regarding how to deal with Eren. Optimus points out the similarities between Eren and Megatron and then Optimus and Megatron finally and properly confess how they feel.

Optimus clenched his servos. “But I failed you, and him. I should have never accepted the title of Prime, and I should have never made false promises and reassurances when I had no idea if we would succeed.”

“You’re a fool if you think that,” Megatron declared without hesitation.

“Megatron, that was your life’s work,” Optimus insisted, “Your ambition.”

“And look at where it landed me the moment I didn’t get what I wanted?” Megatron reminded, “Lives destroyed. Our home destroyed. A never ending war. Tampering the blood of Unicron. That was all me. That had nothing to deal with you.”

“Some would disagree,” Optimus proclaimed, “Ratchet called me ‘soft’, and that I did not pound you into scrap when I had the chance. Arcee had even criticized my decisions in keeping you alive…They were right. I should have recognized that you were too far gone to be saved or reasoned with. But I could not. How in the Allspark could I bring myself to kill my own brother?”

“…then I guess I’m soft too,” Megatron confessed, “I could have killed you when you reverted back to Orion Pax. Naïve, confused, trusting, and defenseless. Instead, I took you back to the ship and tried to convince you of a lie, knowing full well you would have discovered the truth. I was arrogant, and a fool, in more ways than one.”

“…it was our foolishness that let our war continue on,” Optimus declared, “We should have just killed each other.”

“Agreed,” Megatron said, “And…it was my foolishness that waited until now to apologize, when we’re most likely going to die again.”

“You were never one to apologize,” Optimus commented.

“Because I was a coward,” Megatron declared dryly, “A pathetic coward who was dumping his own issues onto innocent human children because he couldn’t actually face you.”

“You should apologize to Armin and Mikasa for forcing them to keep your secrets,” Optimus advised, “You should apologize to the Survey Corps for the way you treated them. You didn’t have to be so cruel to them.” (Note that Optimus doesn't know that Megatron apologized. Armin and Mikasa never brought up the conversation to him.)

“If we make it out of this,” Megatron reminded, “But…I am sorry. For everything. For putting you through so much trauma and pain, for ripping out Bumbleebee’s voice box, for kidnapping the humans, for trying to destroy Earth, for destroying Cybertron.”

Megatron chuckled sadly at that. “What was I thinking? An apology isn’t going to fix the damage I caused.”

“…Then I am sorry too,” Optimus apologized.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Megatron hissed.

“I do,” Optimus insisted, “For being naïve, and not truly acknowledging the reality around me. My foolish hope was my own twisted delusion.”

“…Hope won you the war,” Megatron retorted, “Determination and persistence won you the war.”

“And will destroy this world,” Optimus said, “I gave Eren false hope. I believed that there could have been a compromise in a peaceful manner. But I should have listened to your advice. I should have acknowledged your experience on the continent, and recognize that the world might not have changed their ways through patience and peace talks.”

“Well in hindsight, it was the better option to pursue instead of this,” Megatron admitted.

“And it happened anyway,” Optimus lamented.

There's still a lot to unpack between Optimus and Megatron, but they're talking it out instead of being constipated idiots! Megatron decides that he'll do the killing blow against Eren to spare Optimus some pain if Optimus isn't able to convince him to stop. (Which by the way, doesn't happen) And finally Optimus says this!

Optimus gave a small smile before staring back out into the abyss. “Megatron, if this is where our story ends, then…I am glad that I get to fight by your side. Not as my enemy, but as my brother.”

Megatron felts his servos trembling before turning away from the Prime, not wanting him to see the raging emotions within him. He felt…relief…and happiness. It felt like one of the massive weights of guilt he’s been harboring for so long has been removed from his shoulders. Brother…he called him brother.

“By the Allspark, Optimus,” Megatron chuckled, his voice wavering and unsteady, “That’s such sentimental nonsense.”

Optimus finally calls Megatron brother again! Megatron finally gets what he's always wanted when he's not pursuing his own selfish desires! Optimus and Megatron finally reconcile at the end of the world!

But now to Gabi and Wheeljack! Wheeljack collapses from energon loss and manages to tell Gabi where Falco is because Arcee's been visiting him before he passes out. Gabi, in a panic, tries to call Optimus who is extremely busy right now, but in her panic, pushes the comm. link one too many times and gets nothing. And in her despair:

Gabi felt tears streaming down her face as she cried out in the desperation. No one was going to come! It was over! Even so, she screamed out.

“HELP US!” Gabi cried out.

The help us is not just implied to her and Wheeljack, its implied to everyone that she cares about and loves.

But for now, I'm leaving things here. The Autobot Introduction will be in the next commentary.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 52 - Only I Will Remain

(I'm not very good at remembering to cross post here from AO3, oops).

Y'all need to talk. And what smells like goblin piss?

On AO3.

You don’t say nothing. Fucker slinks into the light like he didn’t just dump your ass this fucking morning for not spreading your legs. He walks on in like y’all are within one hundred miles of banter territory.

“Nice to see you still alive and kicking,” he says. Waits, like he’s going to get any kinda answer more’n “why are you here” or “fuck off.”

He seems to pick up on that when you sit there and stare. Silently. He drops the saunter and folds down into…what looks an awful lot like a “dog who knows he fucked up” sort of hunch.

“I…I came to apologize for my behavior last night,” he says. “It was rather…beastly.”

You…he…you wanted this conversation. When you saw him again. You’d hoped y’all could hash this out like adults, maybe find what went wrong and, you know, fix it.

“You’ve seemed upset today,” he continues. “And I can see why. I made…assumptions.”

Your throat is not squeezing shut. You don’t get apologies all that often. Because you are usually the problem. Ryan Meadows thought you were such a problem he never even gave you a chance to apologize or explain. He cut off a decades-long friendship with Sasha to ditch you.

You start to open your mouth. Tell him it’s okay. But you pause to swallow and try to make sure your voice don’t come out all strangled or pathetic.

And Astarion says, “But if you let me know what you prefer, we could try again? I’m quite open to most things, darling.”

Your teeth snap shut. He smiles at you. Bedroom eyes creep back into his expression.

He’s…what?

He takes your silence as some kinda invitation and sidles closer. Pitches his voice lower, “When you’re ready, of course.”

He thinks…you didn’t like the way he touched you? And that’s why you been avoiding him? Why you spent the night crying until you couldn’t breathe? Why you went into this soul thing vaguely hoping it wouldn’t work?

Because you didn’t like his fucking foreplay technique?

“You don’t got any idea why I’m upset, do you?” you manage.

He blinks. His face moves in like, three different emotional directions before landing on polite interest. “I beg your pardon?”

He still wants to fuck you. Still sees you primarily as a potential fuck buddy. You pressed yourself into it. Chickened out and got treated like garbage, but now he, what? Wants to shoot his shot again?

Is this negging? Is this what negging is?

You thought…you don’t even know. He was fun? Kinda charming, in a fucked up gallows humor way. He was someone you could relate to in a way a lot of people aren’t.

But he don’t see you the same way at all. Maybe it’s the whole vampire thing—predators who lure victims in—or maybe that’s just who he is. You are something for him to eat. To use. Man don’t mean a single thing he’s said to you, does he? Apology included. He’s after blood and sex, and he’ll offer any kinda sweet apology to get it.

You recognize it. What it looks like, what it sounds like, what it feels like. You got good at that when you were younger.

It’s like colored lenses falling off your eyes; you see him in a whole new light.

“I think,” you say. Take another calming breath (it don’t work). “I think you and I have a very different idea of…”

This ain’t a relationship. And…well. He ain’t actually your friend, is he? At least not from his perspective. He, he may never have been. You read it wrong (again). Thought you were making a connection with someone you could maybe, just maybe trust (again).

And you were wrong.

Again.

You look at him. Pasty weirdo. Charming dork. A vampire that ripped open a woman’s throat and drank her dead. He looks at you, all smiles and expectation.

“I think,” you try again, “that you and I should put some distance between us.”

You watch that hit him. Watch his face shutter tight.

“I still think we should all stick together, though,” you add. “You don’t got to; you’re a free man. But I think we’ll be safer sticking together.”

He even moves different. Gone is the fluidity of his shoulders, his lazy head motions. He’s crisp and precise when he backs off. “So, no pitchforks and torches to chase me out, then?”

“We ain’t never gonna chase you out. You can stay as long as you want, Astarion.”

“Ah. Ever the generous one, aren’t you.”

He really can’t help but make that sound like a bad thing. Especially with that edge creeping into his voice.

“I just don’t want any of us to die, alright? Is that suitable for you?” you say.

He tilts his head, every mean girl, passive aggressive smile-to-hide-thoughts-of-harming-you. “But of course. I always appreciate someone sensible. There’s safety in numbers, darling.”

Somehow, though his tone don’t change from his usual, that last word manages to come out bladed.

He’ll stay part of the group. And…and he’ll still need blood. You ain’t never gonna use hunger against nobody (dirt and raspberry jam). You ain’t never gonna stand by and watch somebody starve (lemon soap and bowels). Even if that person is a grade-A jackass.

“I,” you start. Force the rest out. “I’ll talk to Shadowheart, see if I can, you know, bleed into a cup or something for you.”

Something nameless flashes behind his eyes. It looks a lot like anger.

“I will have to decline, I’m afraid,” he says. Spreads a hand over his chest. “I’m touched by your nobility, truly, but I do believe that if we’re to be ‘putting distance’ between ourselves, I’ll be finding my meals elsewhere. Unless you have an objection? Want to spare the lives of goblins and mercenaries you were going to blow up anyway?”

Heat rises in your face. Part rejection, weirdly, and part shame.

“I have no objection,” you say.

“Well. I guess that settles it.” He stands, dusts himself off. There’s something wrong with his sleeve. It’s slashed open. Y’all haven’t been in a fight recently, so where…? “I’ll see you around camp, then.”

You can only nod and watch him walk off towards his tent. Catch Wyll giving you a sympathetic wince and Karlach studiously keeping her head down. Because ain’t no secrets in a camp full of fucking magic people and magic fucking hearing.

It needed to be done. For you, and for the group. It was best to handle it before it got messy. Cut that connection before it could tie you down too much. That’s the safe way.

Even if it hurts.

***

Y’all walk for days. Up into foothills, until the sea y’all crashed near is a distant, glimmering band through the trees. Birds chirp and a crow caws, but it’s quieter than it should be.

Y’all head inland, following a stream. You pass more abandoned luggage, broken down or overturned wagons. All signs of bad shit happening.

The bad shit makes itself known when you come up on a broken bridge and the rank stench of carrion wafts over you.

Astarion has been keeping to the back of the group. The last day, he’s fallen quieter than usual (the others don’t seem to have the patience for his chatter, aside from Wyll, who seems to be needling him) (you glanced back and the man stood straighter and winced).

You’re pretty sure it’s either late spring, or early summer. Cool at night, and the further up you go, the cooler the occasional breeze is. But there’s a hint of muggy in the air, and it don’t do any good for the bodies waiting for y’all.

What the fuck is up with this place and bodies left out to rot?

“You know,” you say to no one in particular. “I read one historian who said the surest sign of an empire in decline is an inability to keep the dead outta the streets.”

It was a funny book about historical plagues (you went down a long and winding rabbit hole of historical plague nonfiction for a while; something about reading up on people who got it way worse than you made your shit seem manageable).

“That’s an interesting theory,” Gale says. His hands twitch; if y’all weren’t trying to hike past what’s got to be five dead people and make it to the walls of a village up ahead, you know he’d be taking notes. “Unfortunately, we’re in a bit of no-man’s land, as it were. I can assure you, the streets of Waterdeep are clean enough you can actually walk down them.”

It takes you a minute to mentally amend the, “And not have to clamber on top raised sidewalks to avoid a slurry of horse and human shit.”

“Hey, Blade, you’re from Baldur’s Gate, yeah?” Karlach says. “I ain’t been back there in a while; how’re the streets now?”

Wyll hesitates. He’s wearing that chagrined expression you’re starting to recognize. The one where he wants to say something all upstanding, yet know he can’t.

“They were decent enough last I saw them. Though my information might be slightly out of date.”

Astarion is from the Gate (as you’re noticed some of them call it). He’d know. But while you’ll toss him a “good morning” or “pardon me,” y’all ain’t really on chatting terms. Nothing more than polite courtesies.

But that means you walk in silence more’n not. You don’t got nobody else to bounce your less than savory ideas off of (not that you needed to the last few days). But y’all had started joking. And it ain’t the same as talking history with Gale, listening to Karlach’s greatest bar fights (though that is fun), or Wyll spinning tales about some of his own shenanigans.

You think about breaching that wall of silence. Just a pinprick. Ain’t no harm in asking a question?

Except that pinprick opens you up to a vacuum, and that vacuum will try to suck you and everything else into it.

No. It sucks, and it’s awkward, but this is for the best. The goblins can’t be far, now. Y’all can get in (somehow), find the druid (you’ll work on that once you get the layout), and he can pull them brainworms outta you (the fuck happens after).

You…got no idea what happens after.

The metal flask with your soul in is sits between your tits, tied to a cord looped over your neck and secured against you by the stays. Good thing about being heavier is you got enough squishable flesh to sort of pack in there without anybody noticing.

But after all this…if you find somebody to latch onto—Gale, maybe Wyll—you’ll have a whole lifetime of guarding that fucking thing. Always. Forever.

You can’t let your thoughts start down that particular shit chute. You focus on that village.

Which, as y’all get closer, is eerily quiet. It’s cool enough you’d except a tinge of woodsmoke—people need fire to cook here, after all. But there’s nothing. No voices, no kids shrieking and laughing, no dogs or horses or hammers or nothing. As y’all reach the gates—busted open and hanging from one hinge—y’all look up a narrow main street that disappears up a hill and, presumably, ends in a town square. Two-story houses line each side of the street. All quiet. All rotten; ruins sagging on their frames, one of them overgrown in ivy, the other with the windowsills lying in disintegrating piles beneath the warped windows.

“Uh,” you say.

Right as Astarion wrinkles his nose. “Does anyone else smell goblin piss?”

Which is apparently some kinda bat signal for said goblins to pop outta the ruins. All of them armed. All of them snarling at y’all.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[philaet0s]

WIP Wednesday

From two different WIPs because I’ve been writing for two fics aha

First, my fem!Snowbaz one

With a bit if context; my trans Niall headcanon is very dear to me but for plot reasons I needed Niall to be a boy at the beginning of the story when they’re kids, so in this fic Niall is actually Alice, a trans girl!

I keep writing scenes that happen in the future rather than following the timeline in chronological order, so here’s another bit that’ll come late into the fic

SORRY, just like the other scene I shared the other day, it’s sad, all the scenes I’m interested in writing at the moment are the sad ones, I miss angst

(TW: mentions of suicide)

Baz

“Are you still sure you don’t want to tell anyone? Not even Dev?”

Alice tenses. It makes my head move on her stomach. I move it further, craning my neck to look at her. I mostly see her chin, but even from down there I can tell her jaw is set.

“Dev is in love with Niall,” she answers, with enough pain in her voice to make my heart clench inside my chest.

“Dev is in love with you. I’m sure he’d love Alice just as much.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t get it. He likes boys. If I tell him… I don’t want him to break up with me because of someone I can’t even be.”

I flip onto my stomach and hold myself up on my elbows to look at her in the eyes. Hers are staring in the distance, empty.

“You are Alice, though.”

She lets out a sound, a dark, bitter chuckle. “Only with you.”

“No. You always are.”

“Baz. I’m not. And I’ll never be. It’s not… That’s good for your friends in London. Not for me. I’d have it easier if I just… went on like this.”

“Or you’d kill yourself because you’re miserable,” I answer, harshly, making Alice gasp.

The wound of Emily’s passing is still fresh. I never told Alice about Emily. I never told anyone, not even Simone. My friends from home… They’re too far away from everything that goes on in the life of my friends in London. I don’t know if they’d understand. Thankfully, I have Sasha. I can talk to her about that life, those friends, that we share.

“Pretending to be someone you’re not like you are… It’s a way to die, not a way to live. And I don’t want you to die, Alice.”

And then my Fiona/Ebb fic!

Ebb

“Ah, Ebb, you’re so emotional,” she says with a sigh and tender eyes.

“Nothing wrong with that. I like feeling things deeply. It makes me feel more alive, more human.”

“Too human for your own good. When’s the last time you made a selfish decision?”

She probably thinks that this is a question I will need to think about. Because she thinks I don’t make selfish decisions. Fiona never understood people very well. She gets them. She gets what makes them like her, what makes them want to do her favours. But she doesn’t understand them. The inner turmoil inherent to human experience. She’s in her bubble, she only understands what she knows, in other words, herself. I think that is why she matches with my brother better than with me. They’re similar in a lot of ways. Meanwhile, she and I are like night and day.

“You’re a selfish decision,” I mumble under my breath. Because I want her to hear it, but I also don’t.

It’s hard to talk to her about this. It’s another thing she doesn’t understand.

She moves her feet from the coffee table to the couch and turns to me. She’s holding her cup of tea on her lap with one hand. I hope she won’t spill tea on the plaid, I washed it three days ago.

“What do you mean?”

Actions have always had a greater impact on her than words. I lay my hand high on her thigh, and stroke the seam of her jeans with my thumb. “This is selfish. So is not telling Nicky.”

She rolls her eyes. “We’re not doing this again. Telling Nico is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.”

[sunlightbender]

A Somewhat Scathing Barbie Review (from a Barbie lover)

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE BARBIE MOVIE

Okay, okay, PLEASE don’t skin me alive for saying this, but I thought the Barbie movie was mid at best. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t terrible, but I’ve been seeing people all over the internet praise it as the greatest cinematic masterpiece of our generation and it’s just... not.

As a positive opening, here’s what I liked:

Set design

Costuming

Acting

(Controversially) The narrator

The music

It’s obviously a gorgeous movie. It’s got so many references to actual Barbie sets and outfits, and as a Barbie fan it’s so much fun to see real people in replicas of Barbie clothes. It’s also super funny, and the music is really enjoyable. With so many positives, it might seem odd that this is titled as a scathing review, but for me, the most important factor in any movie is the story, and well... Barbie’s kind of sucks.

Look, I don’t want to ruin anyone’s perspective on a movie they enjoyed so I’d suggest stopping here if you really liked it. 

The storyline was so heavily lacking. My first biggest qualm: this movie isn’t feminist, it’s sexist, dressed up in feminist frills. Disclaimer: I’m a feminist, hardcore, my family teases me about it all the time. From the very opening of the movie, where they mention that the Barbies see themselves as having made a feminist impact in the world, implying that Barbie as a brand HASN’T done that... eugh. Sasha’s opinion on Barbie is very heavily hinted to be the ‘correct’ one, where Barbie hasn’t positively impacted real women. Gloria’s suggestion at the end, to make an ‘ordinary’ Barbie backs this up - the energy of “We need a realistic Barbie, not the silly, pretty, blonde bimbos of the past”, if you will. 

Let me state this: Barbie is, and has always been, a feminist. Barbie has represented strong women for ages. Barbie, in her pink and glittery glory, has had hundreds of careers, dozens of friends, is loved by all, lives life on her own terms, and has Ken as an accessory. She’s gorgeous and fun and smart and powerful and capable. She has ALWAYS been feminist, and any girl who grew up with Barbies will tell you that playing with them has only helped them imagine “what if I could be-”, in the best possible way. As a woman in STEM, I remember playing with Barbies as a kid, and knowing that I could really do anything, because Barbie could too. 

To build onto this, Gloria’s suggestion that an ‘ordinary’ Barbie be made is ridiculous - I’ve always viewed most Barbies as ‘normal’ people! Are they incredible? Of course! But they’re normal people - that’s the whole POINT of Barbie - she can be anything, she can do anything, she’s incredible because women as a whole can be anything, do anything, and are incredible. To have an ‘ordinary’ Barbie that women can relate to is to imply that ordinary women aren’t capable of being vets, engineers, lawyers, environmentalists, businesswomen, etc. It’s almost as if the movie struggles to differentiate Barbie, the brand, from Barbie, the character. Can any one person have 200+ jobs? No, of course not, but Barbie, the character, has NOT done all of those - it’s just all different fields that Barbie could be capable of - because Barbie, the brand, represents everything that women as a whole can accomplish.

Next, the Kens. Oh god, the Kens. I LOVED the start of the movie. Himbo, accessory Ken is incredible. I love him. I finally understood why straight women loved Ryan Gosling. Then he became a misogynist. Ken’s whole arc is so rushed and muddled. Ken was miserable and bitter even before things started going wrong. In the perfect Barbieland, why should Ken be bitter? It doesn’t make logical sense - before Barbieland was falling apart, you’d think the Kens would be okay with their position in the world. And if not, then is the implication that Barbieland was never perfect? That didn’t come across to me. Let’s be frank, in a perfect Barbieland, there’d either be perfect equality where nobody was upset, or everyone would be 100% okay with the inequality in the world. 

He was so obscenely sexist that the funny movie became genuinely uncomfortable to watch, and for the conclusion to be for Barbie to APOLOGIZE to him despite him stealing her house and brainwashing the country...????? And then the main issue was never even resolved - the hardcore matriarchy continues to exist - just everyone saying “I am Ken” is not going to prevent another Ken uprising, and if Barbieland is perfect, I reiterate once more, KENS DESERVE TO BE TREATED FAIRLY TOO. Also, it seems a little anti-feminist to make the Barbie movie essentially a Ken movie with Barbie crying in the back. The plot was SO Ken-heavy that it didn’t feel like a Barbie movie at all. A really feminist movie would’ve made Ken a background, barely-important character, but he runs the show.

I won’t go on and on, but it’s really uncomfortable. Including the forced almost-kiss. 

Lastly, my big qualm is that Barbie becomes a human. Come on, is humanity not over ourselves already? Why do we make everyone in movies obsessed with us? It’s not enough that aliens should want to live on earth, or that princesses should dream to be common, or that robots wish they were human, Barbie herself has to long to dress in beige and be called Barbara. It was implied that the feminist out here is that Barbie has to escape Barbieland, to become her own person, but Barbie, the idea, has already been feminist! It was important for her to be Barbie, the idea, and there’s no sense to why she should want to be human. Why can’t she stay a perfect stereotypical Barbie, another cog in the perfect, plastic Barbieland machine? What’s wrong with that?

Then, all the dropped plotlines:

Gloria and Sasha’s relationship

The CEO

Ken’s still miserable

Barbie’s impact on the women of the world

Brainwashing apparently is fixed by one cheesy speech?

I think it’s a huge case of target audience. I only realized today, three days after the early screening day when I watched it, that it was not made for Barbie fans like me, who watched every piece of Barbie media, who’ve loved the brand for years. It’s made for people who played with the dolls in the 90s, relegated it as “for kids” and were waiting for a socially acceptable excuse to watch a pink movie again.

Was it a terrible movie? No, I suppose not, but frankly, the movie was muddled, corny, bland, and everything that the movie tried to do has been done better by Barbie’s animated movies and show. If you haven’t watched them, I’d suggest starting with Big City, Big Dreams. It’s a short, easy watch about being competitive without being toxic. The Dreamhouse Adventures series also has a lot of great messages. And then, my personal favorite, the Princess and the Pauper, has an awesome message about women supporting women. Now the men in THAT movie really ARE side characters.

One final comment: Barbie doesn’t give kids eating disorders. Adults telling kids they should look like Barbie gives kids eating disorders. And if you’re blaming Barbie for that, well, please also look at Disney, which pretty exclusively has their fat characters be villains, or toxic teen movies from the early 2000s which called people at size 2s fat. Take it from a woman who’s had multiple eating disorders.

What a rant, huh? And that’s WITHOUT getting into the lack of queer rep in a movie that marketed itself as being very camp - Hari Nef aside (she was wonderful!). If you enjoyed the movie, please don’t let me ruin it. It was definitely a lot of fun, but for me, the story really broke the movie. I’ll give it a 6/10 for enjoyability, and a 4/10 for objective quality.

[karizard-ao3]

I just noticed that Anamnesis passed 15,000 hits! To celebrate, here are some lines I wrote for it that didn't quite work, but that I saved in case I could use them later (I couldn't).

Deleted Lines

Eren longed to see the stars again but the constellations he missed most were the ones that sparkled in Mikasa's eyes.

***

“We could just leave him,” suggested Eren, tapping his cartridge cap. The chemicals inside helped a lot, but even they couldn't cure him of being petty.

***

Mikasa frowned when yet another ad for Quantum Zee began to play, the familiar lullaby jingle accompanying the voice actor’s intimate, knowing murmur. She shoved her earbuds into her ears, turning on her music quickly to drown out the words. She didn’t want to think about this. 

***

Eren grimaced to himself, irritated that he’d revealed the macabre underpinnings of his psyche. 

***

"Hey, sex machine," purred a voice.

***

of the climate control grid malfunctioning overhead, dooming her region to the desolation of an eternal summer. 

***

He wasn't young, like them. Meren had been watching him, too, and he stood as though his body was a burden he had borne for years, one that was beginning to weigh him down. 

***

"If you break his heart, I will destroy everything you have ever loved and make sure that you are never happy again. If he breaks yours, call me," Historia winked. 

***

her dark gaze as lush as black velvet.

***

Eren knew that his main concern should be all the stuff about unknown persons bringing Erens over from other universes, but he wasn't from another universe and despite the efficacy of the new chemical blend he was on, which he still needed to go get replenished because he could feel his mental health declining, he didn't really care much if he lived or died.  

***

As an Eren, he could say beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was no way he or any of his other selves would let anything happen to any of her. It was impossible. He was so invested in her well-being that he was still kind of freaking out about how the other Mikasa's labor would go and he wasn't even going to be in the same universe to help.

***

He didn’t want to die. Not now. Not now that he was doing better and he’d found a chemical cocktail that worked and might even keep working to the point that he could get genetic surgery to start making them himself. Not now that he had someone he wanted to spend his life with. 

***

Her heartbeat took on a frantic clamor as she considered his involvement, whether he was safe. She told herself her fear for him was because he had become such a close friend over the past several weeks. She was sure she would be equally distraught if it were Annie or Sasha, or even Reiner or Ymir. But, despite her insistence to the contrary, her worry for Eren was different, more shrill; her desire to keep him safe from harm was laced with the sharp desperation of self-preservation. She was already barely alive. What would become of her if he disappeared or died? What if they damaged him, like she had been damaged? She knew quite well how swiftly and irreparably someone could fracture another person, each crack fissuring until the entire structure of a personality crumbled into something unrecognizable. 

***

"True love means accepting someone for their flaws."

"She doesn't have flaws."

"She doesn't do anything that annoys you?"

"If she annoys me, that's a problem with me, not her."

***

“We’re on a date?” Eren asked, his mood lifting somewhat.

Mikasa’s eyes darted to him, her lips tugging into a frown. “I… I mean, I asked you to come with me tonight, and… and you were holding my hand over there, so I thought…” She ducked her head,  letting her hair fall in front of her face so Eren couldn’t see her blush. “I guess I don’t really know what constitutes a date.”

Eren slipped his fingers through hers. 

***

Erwin didn’t have to schedule himself for night duty, but he did it because he was fair. However, he did whatever he wanted between calls because he was the captain and who was going to tell him not to? He accepted his ice cream cone and left a nice tip in the jar, then strolled down the sidewalk towards the karaoke bar to see if anyone was being rowdy. 

***

What you’ve done doesn’t change who you are, right?”

***

But then he’d met Mikasa, and in an instant there was no longer any question of whether he was capable of love, only whether he could survive without her. "Yes,” he said.

***

boring into her with a searing gentleness 

***

he craved her so violently that he was powerless against himself, desperate to bask in the light of even the palest imitations for as long as he could bear the counterfeit glow

***

 asked Mikasa, more brusquely than she had intended, her heartbeat as rapid and devastating as machine gun fire.

***

her fingers digging into his arm, shackling him to her.

***

Eren’s heart caved in.

***

“I’m in love with you, Mikasa,” said Eren. 

She froze, her entire body going rigid in his arms. 

“I’m sorry!” he gasped, releasing her, his face creased with panic. “I didn’t mean to say it. It was supposed to stay in my head. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

She began to shake, her muscles so tense that he could see them straining against her skin. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked. 

***

“Why are you sad, Hange?” Levi asked. 

Hange shrugged. “Just mostly because I feel like no one understands me,” they said. “I’m a strange bird, Levi. And I know it.”

***

"Jean told me you were a troublemaker," Mikasa said, her eyes shining. 

"That fucker! When?" Eren demanded.

"Right when we first met," said Mikasa. "I

***

Not a line, I’m just disappointed I didn’t find a good place to have Meren say something was “urchy” instead of “shitty”. 

***

, her jaw setting. “It would actually be kind of nice not having to worry about staying on my bastard father, Rod Reiss’, good side anymore.” Her angelic blue eyes hardened, an evil glint sparking inside them. “I mean, imagine the damage I could do to the family if I decided to stop pretending to be Daddy’s perfect little bastard princess.” Armin cocked his head and Historia grinned. 

***

Ymir's forehead creased as she pushed the salt back and forth in front of her. A brief, residual rankle of jealousy prickled behind her ribs, but it was gone almost before she realized it was there, a mere echo of feelings long past that were replaced with a golden warmth when Historia appeared and plunked a wire number holder clip down on the tabletop and slid into the chair next to Ymir’s, her blue eyes sparkling like sunlit dew and her cheeks as pink as geraniums. 

***

“He keeps trying to get me to try it, but I want a port like I want a hole in my head.” He cocked his head. “Oh, hey,” he laughed. 

Mikasa grinned. 

Mikasa wrinkled her nose back. “It seems like you and I have the real life version.”

Eren laughed. 

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 123 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: putting up a new fence (moved again to a different part of the property... I've been patching that fence for years and I got so much done during TMA!)

Web Development, ha! (I know, I know, I'm easily amused...)

JON: (salty) "Coma, great! Let’s rearrange his office. Sleeping people don’t need – pens." [HE STEPS IN SOMETHING WITH A SQUELCH!] JON: "Euagh! What –" Up until this point Jon (and first-listeners) doesn't know what happened yet. Seems like there is still some residue from the Flesh attack, hehe. That’s also the reason they *had* to throw Jon's cloths out. Interesting, that the jar of ashes survived. I'd guess Martin still was there for the clean-up? My headcanon is, he was the one who wanted to go through Jon's office, trying to salvage things and managed to sufficiently clean up the jar to keep it. It gave Jon some closure and feeling of safety back then, I'd totally understand, if Martin wanted to preserve that.

MELANIE: "Tim is dead. Daisy is dead, and you – what, you’re just fine?" JON: "What – no! I’ve been in hospital for six months!" MELANIE: "Something has been in hospital. Something that’s got your face" Even though Melanie and Basira weren't too affected by the Not!Them (Basira almost not at all, she never met the real Sasha), that trauma still sits so deep with all of them. They know the Fears are not benevolent, and one of those things got Jon to wake up. (Also yeah, Slaughter bullet)

MELANIE: "I warned Basira; I said not to let you back in here, but she just" (increasingly angry; starts slamming [the wall]) "doesn’t! listen!" Lydia really nails the rage here. How the voice begins to break.

MELANIE: "Oh! Okay, so it’s what, hi Jon, how are you, get anyone killed lately?" JON: (dumbstruck) "I – I –" MELANIE: "Wipe that look off of your face. Like you’re not the reason all of this is happening! (she takes a breath) Like you’re any better than – than him!" This is hurtful on so many levels. And Jon and Melanie let us know what an impact this had on Jon (Jon being speechless and Melanie making a comment on the look on his face). Jon hasn't been the friendliest of people, but since MAG 22 he’s been on a steady path to change. All of his actions have been either hypervigilance from being traumatized as a kid (which is a defense mechanism. Learn all about everything, you'll hopefully be a step ahead and things can't hurt you - in S2 this really ended in bad actions. Like I understand why he's been paranoid, but the others also don't have to tolerate this from him) or (and this has been all of S3) trying to keep others safe, including Melanie. He just didn’t know how to do it. Mr. Spider taught him if other people get involved, they’ll get hurt. And then Elias, comparing Jon to Elias. As if Elias hasn't hurt Jon enough as well, even if it wasn't that obvious, especially not for the others. Elias' grooming Jon into things he never wanted is just so disgusting to me.

MELANIE: "No! You don’t, do you? He’s still alive. You are still alive. So this place is still –" See above. (The worst of this: She's kind of right! If Jon dies, they'll go free.)

JON: "Okay." [HE TAKES A LONG, SHAKY BREATH.] JON: "I’m sorry." T_T (Yeah, if it wasn't clear from the first two episodes of S4, this is going to be one huge punch to the gut after the other.)

BASIRA: "Alright. Best I can understand it, Beholding, or the Eye, or… whatever you wanna call it, we’re one of the only powers that hasn’t taken a shot at a ritual. Yet. And everything out there knows it." JON: "No – I mean, we can’t be the only ones, surely." Funny thing, this about the Eye haven’t taken a shot at a ritual yet stayed very strongly with me the first time around. So much, that I ignored all the clues that Elias is trying to do exactly this (Gerry in MAG 111 about the Watcher's Crown, Basira later to Elias in prison about him kicking off his little ritual from a jail cell). I bunched the Eye up with the End and the Web (because they also don’t have a ritual as we'll later learn) even though my sister already went "No no, the Eye has the Watcher's Crown" and then I went full Surprised Pikachu Face when things finally happened.

BASIRA: "Yeah, it was bad. We took them all out. Melanie did most of them. She was… she got a knife from somewhere and –" JON: (overlapping) "Basira I-I don’t know if that’s a good sign?" BASIRA: "She saved my life, Jon. She saved all of us. I won’t forget that." Oh, the hypocrisy of this. But we know, that Basira's heavily playing favorites in this season. Jon being back is not a good sign, but when Jon points out Melanie's unending rage and superhuman knife strength, it's okay because sHe SaVeD BaSiRa's LiFe? As if Jon wasn't part of the saving-the-world-from-the-Unknowing-crew, does that not count? (Speaking from a point of their knowledge at this time, of course.)

BASIRA: "Don’t be too hard on him, Jon. Your, uh, situation. It hit him. Hard." JON: (sighs) "Yes. Well, I’m sure there are better ways to deal with it than getting – cozy with Elias’s successor." Jealous? :)

BASIRA: (sighs) "Rumor is a couple of researchers up on the third floor decided to ignore some of his new directives, and… whoosh." I think it'd be really funny to see TMA from the eyes of someone not working in the Archives (or Rosie). Like all those people who have no idea what this place is. And how would they explain this event though. Two researchers suddenly disappearing...

JON: "Oh." [HE LAUGHS, BUT IT, TOO, IS HUMORLESS.] JON: "The more things change… So, we’re under siege, Melanie is aggressively unstable, Martin is working very closely with – The Lonely, who is predictably enough isolating him, and, oh, yes, uh, Tim and Daisy are still dead. (laughing) Which is at least easy to keep track of." There goes his sanity...

"As he told it, she was young, rail-thin underneath an oversized brown hoodie, which she kept pulled up, trying to cover up a network of pale stitches that stretched over one side of her head." Ha, totally forgot Annabelle was already in this. From what we heard about her from MAG 69, I don't know if this was even very obvious to spot when first listening? At that point, all we would know was that she got her head bashed in and dressed in vintage clothes? Oh and spiders of course...

"She just mumbled something about custom requirements and told Greg to drink his latte, which he did, so he tells me, though he can’t stand milk in his coffee." So subtle!

Chelicerae is btw what the "mandibles" or "fangs" of arachnids are actually called.

"According to those who followed such things, all you had to do was start a new thread as a Guest, something Greg had been instructed to make sure was possible, and the title of that thread should be the name of someone you want dead." A digital death note, gotcha! xD Okay, jokes aside, I love this and MAG 65, those internet creepy pastas! 

"He rarely goes out anymore, and, judging by the cobwebs, he definitely doesn’t clean his house like he used to." There's no such thing as random cobwebs in TMA.

JON: "Another gap. And whoever took it didn’t do any follow-up, just… filed it away. I may be the first person to actually read it, so… (same mirthless cough of a laugh) Sorry, Angie. I suppose." There has already been some speculation about this as part of a mag a day. About the Archivist's dreams, how it works, who end up in there. This "Sorry, Angie", is it meant as an apology for the fact that their statement has been ignored for 2 years? Or is it meant for the possible situation of Angie now ending up in Jon's dreams, since the statement's been given after Gertrude's death and Jon is the first Archivist to read it. This would make Jon's diet even more complicated, having to resort to statements which Gertrude has already consumed in an attempt to not "curse" more people.

JON: "It’s unclear if they were meant to be users or victims, but I cannot help but note that there seem to be the names of several statement givers who found their way to the Institute, including noted arachnophobe Carlos Vittery." The name of the person who set the plot into motion. This should be a very loud clue about the Web pulling its strings all this time!

@a-mag-a-day

[behindthesemasks]

14

“Whose gun was that?” Case asked looking at the rest of the team members still assembled in the room after Mel had left. All heads turned towards the table where the weapons had been laid.

“Fuck! Mine.” Gabriel growled before heading to the door to follow the petite brunette who had left the room stunned by her actions. None had ever even thought she’d do anything like she had, let alone use that kind of language. She had always been more of the quiet and reserved type of person. Now Gabe worried what she might do, and who else she might shoot, with his gun.

“Well, that was exciting!” Cam chuckled as he reached down and flipped the chair with Andreas in it back upright. Everyone was pretty much ignoring the whimpering of the man in the chair, although his groans when the front feet of the chair hit the floor again did make Cam chuckle even more.

“Come on; let’s keep her from killing someone. Erik, Cam…you two play nice with our guest here and see what he has to say. If he stops cooperating, let me know and I’ll have my granddaughter come back in.” Ambrose grinned and winked at Andreas. He was quite proud of Mel; he wouldn’t have suspected she was capable of such violence. One should never judge a book by its diminutive and graceful exterior though; it was all just a mask that hid what lay underneath. “The rest of you, come on. We have some work to do.”

Ambrose and the others left the room, leaving only Andreas and his two interrogators. The reduction of people in the room didn’t make him feel any better though. He was quite sure he wasn’t leaving the room alive and that one of his two cousins would be the one putting a bullet in his brain in the end of it all. That Mel would be back and inflict more pain also seemed to be a foregone conclusion in the man’s mind as well. He had known her for years, and never had he seen her like that. When she found the one that hired him, he did not envy what she or those around her would do.

Back in the suite, Mel had changed out of her dress and into a black tee and jeans. She was just pulling on her hiking boots when Gabe came in. “If you’re thinking of trying to stop me, I still have the gun and I’ve just proven I’ll use it.” Her eyes were hard and full of fury, but her expression also said that she didn’t really want to hurt him, which made Gabe relax some. He honestly didn’t blame her for her reaction to Andreas. She wasn’t the only one who wanted to shoot him; she was just the one that had.

“I’m not here to stop you Mel. I’m here to make sure that you don’t kill a friendly or get yourself hurt while you lash out in this anger.” Years of experience allowed Gabe to keep his voice calm as he spoke to her. Inside his heart was racing. He knew there was no way that if she went for the weapon that lay on the couch beside her that he could stop her in time for her not to get even a poor shot at him, and at this distance that meant a world of pain for him. Never had it crossed his mind while they’d been in the other room that Mel would take any of their weapons. All of his years of training and attention to detail was now nagging in his brain that he was an idiot for giving her the chance.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone. I’m going to the hospital. Alexander and Sasha are both there. I don’t know who that third man is, but someone needs to be there to keep an eye on them, and not just Caden.” Mel stood after tying the laces on her shoe. Picking up the pistol, she unscrewed the suppressor and tossed it to Gabe. “I don’t need that part. You can either come with me or stay here, but I’m not giving back the gun Gabe.”

Catching the suppressor, Gabe nodded. He wasn’t going to argue with her. “I’ll go with you, but will you give me a minute to go get another pistol. You happen to be holding mine and I don’t like being at a disadvantage.” Gabe gave her a half smile that was a little sheepish.

Nodding, Mel lifted the back of her shirt and slid the weapon into the back of her jeans, after making sure that the safety was on. As he turned to leave the room, she started to follow him. Their path was blocked by Klaus, Case, Nic, and Ambrose. The four of them looked at the pair expectantly, eyebrows raised.

“And you’re going where?” Nic asked, his eyes alternating between the two of them.

“The hospital.” Mel’s tone was flat and her gaze even.

“I’m going with her, but since she has my gun, I have to get another one.” Gabe followed up with a look of resignation on his face and a slightly sarcastic smile on his face as he held up the suppressor.

“I don’t think so.” Klaus challenged her, earning raised eyebrows and amused expressions from Nic and Ambrose. Had he just watched what they had? Did he really want to challenge her right now?

One eyebrow rose and Gabe stepped back as he saw the woman tense. “Excuse me? I don’t remember asking your permission. And what’s more…I don’t need to.” The challenge in Mel’s expression and tone of voice said that if thought he was going to stop her that he was severely mistaken.

Growling, Klaus’s jaw ticked. How had things gone so sideways? “Fine,” he ground out, clearly displeased. “But it won’t be just Gabe going with you. Case and I will be too.” It wasn’t a request, it was a statement. A flat out statement. His expression was a stubborn one and as set as hers was. It was going to be a meeting of the wills and the other four standing there weren’t sure who was going to win.

“Fine, you two can have a pissing match later. I need a gun.” Gabe sighed and started to move forward. He had a new respect for the female, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stand there and watch as she had a stare down with Klaus. He’d seen enough people do that over the years that he knew that it was better to just carry on and let them catch up later.

Ambrose reached behind him and pulled his weapon, handing it by the barrel to Gabe. “Take mine. You,” he pointed to Mel, “don’t argue and take all 3 men. You,” he pointed to Gabe, “keep them from killing each other. You,” he pointed to Case, “be the lookout, take up a sniper position when and where you can. I want you to be the ghost of the operation. And finally you,” his eyes met Klaus’s with an expression that said he was in control here and wasn’t going to be challenged. “You are going to make sure that she gets out of there exactly like she is right now. One bruise and we’ll have words. Got it?” Klaus nodded, as did the others.

Mel smirked and went to her toes to kiss Ambrose on the cheek. “You got it boss.” She gave him a wink before grabbing the front of Klaus’s shirt and started to pull him out the door to the suite. “You heard him, make sure I don’t get myself killed. Your job is to watch my ass, and I doubt you’ll have a problem with that.” She had mostly gotten her way, if she was going to have an entourage; she was going to give them hell.

Case about choked as he laughed and Gabe rolled his eyes as he followed the pair. They could both see the tick in Klaus’s jaw. Neither was exactly sure what he was restraining himself from…throttling her, or kissing her senseless. Knowing Klaus, it might be a mixture of both.

“Who’s driving?” Mel’s voice came from the front.

Case and Gabe looked at each other for a second before Gabe answered, “Case. You get to play pampered princess in the back seat with me and Klaus.” He slowed up a bit, half expecting her to come round at him.

“At least you have it down what my position is in this.” The sarcasm was thick in Mel’s voice and this brought a full on laugh from Gabe. She was going to give them hell every step of the way, he was sure of it. Not that he really expected any less of her.

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” There was no missing the resignation in Klaus’s voice that she was not going to give an inch and be in charge.

As they waited for the elevator, Case and Gabe took up positions on each side of Klaus. They were ready to block anyone coming from the back and shield anyone coming off of the elevator. Given they were taking the entire top floor of the hotel, the first wasn’t really too great a possibility unless it was another member of the team. And since this floor required a key to get to, the same was true of the elevator, but one never knew and you always planned for contingencies.

Mel turned to face him. “I’m going to do what needs to be done. That’s what I’m going to do. They’re after Alexander, Klaus; do you really expect me to sit her on my hands and do jack shit? It’s your cousin in there, who shot one of the nicest people I’ve ever met and would have put the red dot on Alexander’s head too. So, no, I’m not going to make it easy. You’re going to tell me when you run and op that it’s always easy? Of course not…so if you can’t handle things…”

Mels’s words were cut off as she found her back against the wall and Klaus’s face in hers. His eyes were hard and even she saw his jaw tick. “If I can’t handle it, what? I can walk away. NOT.FUCKING.HAPPENING. Feel me, doll? You can try to push me away all you like, it ain’t happening again.” His breathing was heavy and it was clear she’d hit a nerve. Still her face didn’t relax, she was defiant as ever and he found it sexy as fuck. Watching her when she’d been sad and meek had broken his heart, this was the woman he had fallen in love with all the years ago. The one who was ready to take on the world.

Before she could stop him, his lips crashed into hers. One hand was next to her head, against the wall, and the other was holding the back of her neck, his thumb by her ear. His kiss was rough, demanding, and possessive. All truth, he wanted to pin her against the wall and do much more than kiss her, but he knew this wasn’t the time or the place. His cock straining against his pants wanted to argue that point though.

There had always been something about his possessiveness and dominance that was a turn on and that was no different now. The fist holding his shirt tightened, digging a small pearl button into the palm of her hand. She kissed him back with the same passion, not caring about the two other men who were standing there. They were big boys, they could deal.

Finally Klaus broke the kiss, keeping his forehead against hers and looking into those clear blue eyes he adored. “I’m not gonna back down, doll. You want to take out my cousin? So do I. He’s gone too far. And I want to make sure Alexander is safe too. But you going off half-cocked and getting yourself hurt, or worse…it isn’t going to help a damn thing. So be pissed we’re with you if you want, but it ain’t changing. So we can have the rest of this discussion later.”

As the elevator dinged, arriving at the floor. Klaus’s lips curved into a smirk and he kissed the top of her nose. “Now get that sexy ass in line and let’s do this.”

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Rage - a Magnus Archives fic

An AU Somewhere Else - part of the Magnus Monsterverse series. Spoilers for the whole show.

Martin is angry.

Jon is getting there.

Jonah… grieves?

Jon finally learns where this young Jonah came from… and a huge and terrible realization about this quiet world.

AO3

——-

I did not recall being carried up that hill and to Sasha’s hospital. I did not recall the long stairs down, nor whatever conversation may or may not have taken place over me.

I recalled Martin’s warmth, and his grip on me, and the pain in my side, and that was it.

Then, I heard the whispering.

Angry whispering, Martin and Sasha, back and forth; Martin hurling some kind of accusation at her (which I felt too tired to parse), and Sasha’s repeated annoyed responses, all delivered in a sort of longsuffering hemorrhaging of patience.

My side hurt. My side shouldn’t hurt. It felt ridiculous to be hurt. Some deity I supposedly made.

Jonah stood over me.

He watched with unblinking fascination as if, by lying here, I’d become the most incredible thing he’d ever seen in the entirety of his days, even more than what he now saw hundreds of years beyond his time, even more the entirely new world he found himself in.

I might be strange, but I knew I wasn’t worth that. “What?” I muttered.

“You are magnificent,” he breathed. “To think some version of me created you… I have never known such honor. Such worth.”

I didn’t even try to keep my utter disgust off my face. “Did she tell you how it happened?”

“Bits and pieces. It’s your tale to tell, of course,” he said, his voice low and hopeful.

“It was hell.” I thought he wouldn’t care, but I had to say it, anyway. “He hurt me. He never even told me what was going on until it was too late.”

Jonah’s face fell. “Oh.”

He didn’t like that? Huh.

I still couldn’t resist. “But he didn’t make me a god, Jonah.”

“He didn’t?” Jonah’s eyes widened.

“No.” I half sat up even though it hurt, because I needed to be closer to his face for this, needed him to see all my eyes as I opened them at him. “I did that when I ate him alive.”

So that didn’t work as intended. Jonah inhaled. His cheeks flushed. “A sacrifice.”

“No, you’re not listening! Murder. Revenge. It was hatred and getting him out of the way. There was no honor, no beauty. It was one man eating another. It was not the glory you think.”

Was he tearing up? “I wish it had been me.”

I stared. “Right, so you’re insane. Good to know.”

“You don’t… of course you don’t understand,” he said, stepping back, wiping his face with a handkerchief and pinky-raised delicacy that really didn’t fit the tight white t-shirt and ordinary jeans. “I see how you protect yourself. I don’t understand why, but you do it consistently, so perhaps… perhaps I should tell you my own tale.” He looked at me with pleading.

Was this actually happening right now?

I looked toward Martin and Sasha. She was still being patient.

Martin had gone… not pink, but blue. Blue with anger. I stared. “This takes priority,” I said to Jonah, and forced myself upright with a cry.

It got their attention. “Jon, what are you doing?” Martin said, hurrying over.

“Stopping your tiff,” I said mildly, and winced, inhaling through my teeth.

He sat beside me and steadied me, hands warm, eyes soft. “Idiot. You could’ve just called out.”

I leaned in. “Yes, well, my plans are foolproof, I’ll have you know.”

He snorted. “Flawless.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said. “But I’m still mad at Sasha.”

“Why?” I looked up.

Sasha sighed. “Jon, do you understand the key reason we can let you all run around here, untethered, not so much as a bloody shock collar, nary a microchip? Letting you get jobs, and go on dates, and do whatever you want like ordinary people? Do you? Can you figure it out?”

What? “Um,” I said, brilliantly.

“Because I believe—and Leitner trusts my opinion—that you all understand what you did.”

Martin was back to slightly blue cheeks. “There’s understanding, Sash, and then there’s—”

Sasha held up her hand. “I don’t mean simply knowing it. Remembering. I mean guilt, Martin. We all bear guilt, every single one of us, and it is when we are in danger of forgetting this that we become the problem.”

Martin’s gills flared red, just peeking above his collar. “That is not—”

“After all the years we’ve worked together, Martin suddenly got it into his head that I’m trying to make him ‘feel bad,’ as opposed to ‘keeping him alive,’” Sasha snapped, and now her eyes were shiny, and her cheeks were flushed, and her lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know when you decided ‘keeping you alive’ made me the enemy, but thanks, Martin. I appreciate that. Makes me feel pretty good about my life right now.”

“Damn it all, Sasha, that’s not what I’m trying to say,” Martin said, scowling at the floor and running his hand through his hair.

“Maybe not, but it’s what you said. We’ve been doing this for years. I don’t… I don’t want to lose anyone else, allright?” Sasha said, holding herself.

“Lose?” I repeated.

“It hasn’t happened in a long time,” Sasha said, softly. “But it is true that some who’ve been rescued tried to take this world for their Patrons. It’s happened, Jon. We had to prevent it.”

“So… like your Nikola…” I said.

“Some are locked up. The rest couldn’t be saved.” Tears slid down her face. “I don’t want that for you. I don’t want that for any of you. I do this for you.”

“You… ensure we feel guilt to keep us safe?” I said.

“Are you likely to do what you did again?” she said.

“Never,” I whispered it, vowed. “Never again.”

“Do you want to, though?”

I couldn’t make my mouth move quickly enough to deny it. Of course I did. Of course.

She knew my silence was assent. “That is why we must bear our guilt, and see it for what it is, and feel it.”

“So we do what Leitner wants or we’re killed, is that it?” snapped Martin, who knew that wasn’t what she was saying, but was still so angry.

Sasha sighed. “Has that been your impression? Are people disappearing in the night? Has everyone you’ve met been hopeless, paranoid, in fear for their lives?”

“No, that… no, but…” he said.

“Is Leitner in control of the Hunters?” I said before I intended, and this went far beyond compelling. This wasn’t avoidable, or a thing she could even know occurred. It was air in her lungs, a wish that filled her thoughts, so she did not even realize I had asked before she answered as though she’s already planned to. “Leitner wishes he could control the Hunters, or at least he’s said as much. They could do a lot of good, whatever they are. So he said. I personally find them horrifying.”

“More than you know,” I said, watching her to see if she realized she’d given away so much. What the actual hell? When had he said that? I needed to go see him again at some point, but I really didn’t want to right now. “They’re not even single persons anymore. They’ve been… smashed together, somehow, but they’re conscious. Sasha, they’re aware. They don’t have any control at all, but they’re aware. It’s living hell.”

She stared at me.

“The Hunter I saw had gone completely mad,” I said. “It was a relief to them to die.”

“You never said this before,” Martin whispered.

My mouth stopped working. I swallowed. “I didn’t… know I knew.”

He pressed his lips to my temple, gentle, too long to be a kiss, a moment of intimate affection.

“I’ll add that to the report. I.. I’m sorry, Martin,” said Sasha quietly. “I swear I’m not… I haven’t just been making you feel bad.”

“But you have, though. Our sessions, our counseling… all of it. You always make me feel bad,” said Martin.

Her look was naked. “I wasn’t trying to.”

He sighed. “I believe you. Sorry I flew off the handle. I still think I don’t want to talk anymore, though. For a while.”

“I understand.” She hugged herself, looking fairly devastated.

And it slipped right out. “Martin’s not in danger over this, right?”

“Not so long as he doesn’t start harboring ideas of giving the world to the Lonely,” she said.

He shuddered. “No, thanks.”

I felt it. I leaned in, aching side be damned. “He’s not.”

“Of course I’m not. You think I want to lose you again?” said Martin. “To lose anybody? I love my family here. Even you, though you’re on the outs right now,” he said to her, lightly.

Sasha’s smile was sad. “This isn’t easy, you know.”

“Sure,” said Martin, but his tone was gentler.

Sasha sighed. “Will you finally let me see his injury, already?”

Martin looked absolutely horrified. “Oh, gods, what have I done?”

“Just kept me from bandaging him up,” Sasha said. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I don’t…” I sort of plucked the edges of the bloodied hole in my shirt, trying to see through it.

“Darling, that… oh, Jon,” she said, sort of fondly, and actually pulled the shirt up (which was a much better way to do it).

So the hole was gone. 

My blood was all over; and my blood was weird, red like normal, but sort of… threaded through with green strings like some kind of fungus, and—

They glowed, those green things. And they were made of microscopic eyes.

“Eugh!” I said, or something very similar.

“It’s all right, calm down,” she said, wiping it right off like she’d seen it a million times before (and I only imagined the wild sight of a cloth bigger than my whole universe coming down to smash me and wipe me away). “Your wound’s healed? Well, that is convenient.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know. All I see when I look at your samples are eyes,” she said.

“But it still hurts,” I said, tiny.

“It could be psychosomatic, or there could be internal damage. I could run some tests,” she said. 

I slid my fingertips over the spot where rebar had pierced right through. The skin was unblemished (well, from this), and I got the most horrifying image of metal pushing through a vat of eyes, just squishing everything to the side. “I… no, I…”

I wanted to go home. I wanted to curl up with Martin and forget all of this had ever happened.  But I’d come out here for a reason. I’d been on my way to see her for a reason, and I was here, and… “Blast,” I said. “Damn and blast.”

Martin looked like he wanted to kiss me silly. “Damn and blast, you say.” 

“I need to talk to Jonah. That was the whole reason I came out tonight,” I said. 

“I need a debrief on whatever that was we fought, though,” said Sasha.

“It was Nikola Orsinov,” I told her. “And she said the one you have locked up is a fake.”

Sasha looked flabbergasted. So that was satisfying, anyway. “What?”

“That’s what she said. She was old, Sasha. Hundreds of years old.”

“Hund- Jon, that’s impossible. None of us were here.”

“She was.”

“But… no, that doesn’t… Jon!” she said.

“I am literally telling you all that I know,” I said. “I don’t know more. Not yet.”

“Could you?” she said. “I don’t mean to push, but what the actual hell, Jon? This doesn’t—I don’t understand.”

I sighed. “I’ll write the whole thing up for you, all right? It won’t be terribly satisfying.”

“Anything you can share. I have samples of her, taken before they burned the area, but… I don’t understand what we saw.”

“Nor do I understand what she said,” I added. “I’ll give it all to you, Sasha. But I need to talk to Jonah, as unpleasant as I’m sure it will be.”

“Really?” said Jonah like Father Christmas had come at last. So that was a good response. 

Sasha sighed. “All right. Want to help me, Martin? I need to isolate the Nikola from all the mess I scraped up off the street.”

“Sure,” said Martin, and I knew it was an apology. He stood. 

“You can do that?” I said.

“It’s a skill,” he said, clearly pleased at having surprised me. “You’ll be all right with him?”

He could separate things on the cellular level? What? “As long as you’re waiting for me after, I can weather any storm,” I said.

Martin beamed like the sun rising over the ocean. “I’ll make a poet out of you yet.”

“When hell freezes over.” I said loftily.

He laughed and followed Sasha.

I had to learn more about his skill. But right now, something else awaited.

Jonah watched me. Eager. He was practically vibrating. 

I didn’t want to do this down here. Doing it out there, however, with who knew how many more Nikolas or whatever else, seemed like a worse idea. “Sit on the other bed,” I told him, because that was as  close as I was willing to get. 

He sat without hesitation.

I wondered if I could order him to jump on one foot while patting his head and rubbing his belly. “How did you do what you did out there? When I was overwhelmed.”

“When you were caught up in inebrians cernentia, the intoxicating visions,” he said. “Well, Rob called it sustineamus onus, which is a sort of enthusiastic, ‘we now bear the burden,’ but I thought it was pretentious.”

I stared at him. “Rob? Robert Smirke?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, brightly.

Fuck. I really needed his backstory, didn’t I? I could try to know it, but I felt like my metaphorical chair already balanced badly on its back two legs, and if I plunged too far, I would fall. “Tell me your story, Jonah Magnus.”

He sighed as if in relief.

The Eye positively chirped in my head, so unutterably happy. Why? It tried to tell me. It was too much. Something about what I wanted and It trying to give that to me, and—

“Oh,” he breathed, flushed, lips parted. “Yes! So, well. We of the Eye can very easily be overwhelmed if we’re too much in tune with It. However strong any of us may become within Its embrace, we are all still human. Except, of course, for you.”

“More human than you think,” I said, because I had to, because anything else was terrifying.

“Why does that frighten you?” he said, tilting his head like a curious owl.

“It should frighten you, too,” I said. “What happens if I’m not human, hm? What then? What, I become… just…”

“Yes, what?” he said. “Tell me why it frightens you.” And oh—

The whisper of that, the sweetness—

The urge to tell him, like my own desire, rising smooth—

“Did you just try to compel me?” I said, but I knew he hadn’t.

“To what?” he said. 

He hadn’t tried. It was as natural to him as breathing—and that had not been a thing the Jonah I knew could do. “Hm,” I said. And I decided (it was me, not his influence) to see why he wanted to know. “I am human. We are human. Should we cease to be, we become truly monstrous. Devourers of our loved ones. I’ve seen it.”

“No, I don’t think you have,” he said.

“Excuse me?” I huffed.

He held up one hand. “I understand what you fear now; you fear you losing the essence of yourself—your character, your desires, your morals. Yes?”

“At the very least! I’ve seen it happen!”

“You have seen people being wicked, yes,” said Jonah. “But let us define our terms first, shall we? We’re flinging fairly broad ones about without considering all the fish caught in that net.”

Dear lord. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

“Is ‘human’ physical? If yes, then are you less human if part of you is replaced with wood?”

Prosthetics? “No, of course not.”

“Are humans still human, even with brain damage, or congenital defects?”

I bristled. “Of course they are!”

“Then ‘human’ clearly involves some state of being apart from the medically measurable, and perhaps, even apart from choices, or those incapable of making choices would automatically be inhuman.”

Dear lord. He’d put thought into this. “Then what do you think is human?”

“Let us look at what is not. ‘Truly monstrous,’ ‘attacking loved ones,’ as if the latter behavioral choice defines the term. Is that about what you said?”

I swallowed. It had been a very long time since I’d tangled intellectually with this man, and I’d forgotten how good he was at it. “So you’re saying the choice to harm makes one a monster, which is the opposite of human.”

“No, you said that. I happen to disagree.”

I wondered how he would apply all of this when artificial intelligence came into play someday. “Why?”

“Because I believe humans can choose and monsters cannot,” he said. “A monster will always take the bad choice, the selfish one. A human has agency, all the way through.”

“But if we apply that to the current situation, then we are simply all human because we chose not to end the world again, and yet I somehow am not though I also make that choice.”

He smiled. “That is because you are the third option. A god.”

I sighed and peeked in on Martin and Sasha.

Sasha typed, recording findings, while Martin looked through a microscope and somehow separated discrete cells by the power of will. Making them lonely. Baffling.

That would be fascinating to dig into later. “Fine, I’ll play,” I muttered. “What is a god to you?”

“What is a god to you?” he said.

I felt sick. I was made of eyes. I was horrifying, a medical mystery.

“Beyond the physical,” he said, guessing literally because of my expression as I looked down at myself.

“I don’t know. I hardly fit the cultural narrative.”

“A monster can only act according to nature. A human can choose, in spite of circumstances. A god can also choose—but by doing so, affects more than himself. His choices override both the nature of monsters and the decisions of men.”

He didn’t know about the forgiving thing, did he? He guessed. Because he’d seen it do something to Martin.

For one moment. I wanted to kill him. I was afraid. 

I swallowed it back. “You’ve boiled this down before.”

“Yes.”

“Reminds me of that Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. quote,” I said before I could stop myself. “‘For the simplicity on this side of complexity, I wouldn't give you a fig. But for the simplicity on the other side of complexity, for that I would give you anything I have.’”

“Oh, that is nice,” he said. “I haven't heard that before, but I would say it fits.”

“Why have you spent so much time thinking about this?”

“We debated this quite heavily amongst ourselves, especially when we began to change,” he said. “We had to, given what we were doing.”

“We? Who is we?”

“Ah,” said Jonah, eyes widening. “My Society of the Wide-Open Eye.”

I could feel my face going long. I wanted to laugh. “You made a cult?”

“Goodness, no,” he said, which is exactly what a cult-leader would say. “Let me try to summarize this, though I know I do them a disservice. It was Rob’s research that truly codified what we’d all seen, our particular group of philosophical friends. We’d all been digging into the questions, the mysteries, the strange turns of history, the oddities and unexplainable events we’d witnessed and felt.”

My nostrils flared. “Smirke and his fourteen fears.”

“Yes. It became obvious to me before too long that one of them would succeed, eventually. Someone would find a way to bring one of them into the world, thus destroying all.”

So far, this followed my Jonah. “Go on.”

“I realized, over time, that the best-case scenario would be to have a hand on that rudder, as it were—to try to position ourselves in such a way that we could mitigate when the inevitable happened.”

“What, you didn’t want to be king of a ruined world?” I drawled.

He blinked at me. “What lovely phrasing.”

“What lack of answer.”

He smiled like he had all the world’s secrets. “I didn’t believe any one person could do that without becoming a devil,” he said, which was as much as admitting he had considered it. “Instead, we hoped we could mitigate when the inevitable happened. And it would be an us. People who trusted one another, working together, could, I believed, pull it off.”

So it was very similar to my Jonah, but he’d crowdsourced. “All right. So what did you do?”

“First, I went about convincing my Society of the Wide-Open Eye—”

“Dear lord,” I muttered, because really.

He actually blushed. “My friends. We’d by then moved all over, but we still kept in touch through letters, veritable tomes, and we did meet up when we could. Anyway, I convinced them. I had to. There were no other men in the world I trusted as much, especially not to rule it.”

I almost didn’t want to ask. “And who were these men?”

“Well, Rob, of course, you know of. Henry Roberts, George Scott, Maxwell Rayner, and Mordechai Lukas.”

How the hell he’d gotten in with a bunch of architects… “You convinced them.”

“I did.” He looked so pleased. “I’m older than I look.” Then he laughed at my expression. “I’m not that old.”

“Right.” As if that were my concern. “So you convinced them to join the Eye?”

“Yes. We added some more people along the way, but many left, or… couldn’t do it. We six were the core.”

Incredible. He’d swayed them from falling away as mentioned in Smirke’s letters, drawn by one Fear or another. He’d kept them all together. “And what did you do?”

“We did all we could to strengthen ourselves with the Ceaseless Watcher. To become the Beholding, to embody It to the point that when It came through, when It took over our world, we could steer it, and mitigate the damage.”

“As if it could be mitigated,” I whispered.

“It wasn’t the ideal scenario,” he said. “But what else could we do?”

“Endure?” I said. “Try to stop them? Maybe anything else?”

“It was going to happen. I believe the presence of everyone here proves that we were right,” he said with more patience than I possibly deserved.

“But you made it happen!”

“We knew someone was going to,” he said. “It was a bloody miracle it hadn’t happened already.” 

Because no one had all the marks, I thought, but that forced me to finally face this one weird thing I’d had no answer for: they’d all done it. All of them. But how? No one was marked like I was. Nobody. I swallowed. “How did you do it? How did you bring the Eye through?”

“We were able to see a… well, we shared the burden, as I did for you out there, and the more we saw individually, the more we started to see as one. The way it felt to us was like the lens of an eye. Here, they seem to call it the Veil, for some reason, though I don’t know why.”

Again. Again, through the Veil. “How did you do it?”

“We saw through. I wish I could explain it more; we made a… pinhole. And it wasn’t perfect, believe me; it was rather like a camera obscura effect.”

“Distorted,” I murmured.

“Even backwards. It all went…” And for the first time since I’d seen him, genuine misery flashed across his face. He hid it fast, but we both knew I’d seen. He cleared his throat. “It all went rather poorly.”

“What happened?”

He sighed. “Well, it was… uneven. It couldn’t last; overbalanced. We tried so hard to contain it, to direct it, but my friends… one by one, they burned up. I don’t know how it went so wrong. Maxwell and I were the last. The last thing he said to me before his eyes turned to ash and he breathed no more was, ‘The center cannot hold.’”

I didn’t want to ache for him. I wanted to blame him; but this… I knew this grief was real. “Yeats?”

And his voice… his gaze distant, his voice went low, chanting, turning the meter into a pulse: 

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre   The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst   Are full of passionate intensity.”

I stared at him.

And he skipped ahead, making eye-contact now, heavy, unblinking, piercing:

“When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert   A shape with lion body and the head of a man,   A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,   Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it   Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.”

No, he was not trying to—

He skipped again, his voice like dark and jagged, leaning forward on the hospital bed, his fingers on his knees like claws:

“And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”

I stood. “I am not your bloody Messiah.”

“No, you’re not,” he said. “It’s far too late for my world, and I have no desire to ruin this one.”

“Did you hear a damned thing she said?” I snapped. “She’ll see you killed if you’re thinking of bringing any of that here!”

“I am not doing anything of the sort,” said Jonah. “My belief, Jonathan Sims, is not that you are some Messiah, here to bring about the entrance of any patron into our world. It is that you are the key which will lock it out.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“They can’t hear this, by the way,” said Jonah. “I’ve ensured it.”

I felt pale. “What?”

“Jon,” said Jonah, and suddenly his teeth were bared, his eyes wide and fiery, pupils shrunk to black pinholes of rage. “You’re the salvation. This world is already in the grip of a god.”

And the moment he said it, I knew.

Not… not exactly what. Not the details; it was too big, looking through my near-human gaze at a thing too large, a thing I’d need laser vision and even more eyes to see, a thing I would need complete uninterrupted panorama to even behold, much less understand.

But he was right. “Something has it.” I hardly knew my own voice.

“Something does.” He was tucking that anger back down. “I can help you, Jon. I want to help you. More than I already have.”

I stared. “But why?”

He laughed. It was pained sound; his eyes, though smiling, grew wet. “Because I’m lonely, and because I love you, and I know you will never love me—your world’s version of me aaw to that, and it isn’t fair, but I can clearly see it for what it is. Nevertheless, I do; and so I choose to help you, not only so the world in which I now live remains viable, but because… I want to.”

For the second time in this conversation, I wanted to kill him.

How dare he? How dare he? After all he’d done, he—

But he hadn’t. This Jonah hadn’t done the things mine had. He’d gone a completely different route. This wasn’t the same person.

It wasn’t.

It…

My head was splitting.

“I don’t understand this,” I said.

“I know,” he said, softly. “I’m sorry I threw so much of it at you at once. I doubt I’ll get time alone with you again after—”

“We’re leaving,” said Martin, stalking over to me. He frowned. “You’re pale. Are you all right?”

“I want to go home,” I said.

“Did… what did you do to him?” he snarled at Jonah.

“He did nothing wrong,” I said. “And I don’t say that lightly.”

Martin stared at me.

“Damn,” I said. “I hardly got my questions answered, though.”

“There is quite a lot,” said Jonah. “But we have time.”

Did we?

Martin leaned in, sighed, breathed into my hair.

I leaned, too.

“Pity Manuela can’t make us a bloody portal home,” he muttered.

I sighed. “I know how to do it now.” The Eye had been trying to show me for the past hour as a reward for getting along. Dear lord.

“You do?” said Martin, surprised.

“You do?” said Sasha, shocked.

“You do?” said Jonah, awed.

I was so done with all of this. “We’re going home. Sasha, just… ask me questions, all right? I’ll type up a full report tomorrow. There’s nothing to hide, but I’m exhausted. All right?”

“All right,” she said, tension leaving her shoulders. 

Martin sighed.

I did, too, as if relieved, and saw home.

Saw it. Just… saw it, as if it was secretly hidden inside her lab, hanging in the air between us.

Neither Sasha nor Martin saw it.

Jonah did.

I hesitated before going through. “Jonah,” I said slowly. “What’s a devil, then, to you?”

“The same as a god, only those choices are made for harm.”

Martin looked mildly spooked. “So that’s a thing. What?”

I had to go. “Come on,” I said to Martin, and pulled him through.

“What the fu-” Sasha’s voice cut off.

“Are you okay?” said Martin, cupping my face.

“No. Are you okay?” I said, wrapping my arms around him.

“I’m… I’m really angry,” said Martin, and swallowed. “A lot more than I should be. It isn’t great?”

“Repressed, maybe?” I said. Had I done this to him? Had I made him angry?

“It wasn’t just her,” he said. “I think maybe I’ve been angry since before… even they found me. I don’t know. It just… flooded out of me.” He sighed. “I really could have handled it better.”

“This night has been awful,” I said. “I’m so sorry I made such a mess of it.”

“I’m sorry I got you into it,” he whispered.

“You didn’t. And we… we actually saved a lot of lives, Martin. That Nikola… she was luring people, right on the street.”

“I heard what you said. I don’t really understand,” he said.

“There was a Nikola. Very old. She was doing that… anglerfish thing,” I said, and then I knew something else. “She’d from here.”

“From here?”

“This world.”

“How, Jon?”

“I don’t know.”

For one moment, that anger flashed across his face again.

Not at me. I think not at me.

“Why can’t they just leave us alone?” he snapped.

I caressed his cheek, cupped his head, and drew him to me for a kiss, the kind that calms down, not revs up—the kind that invites closed eyes, and slow breath.

He rested his forehead on mine. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Can we sleep? I… I want to answer your questions, but I’m tired.”

“So am I. All I know for sure is I love you, and I’m taking tomorrow off.”

I laughed softly. “Your adoring public will riot.”

“Then they get no bread,” he said loftily, which made absolutely no sense (he hadn’t even said cupcake!), but I was tired, and he was tired, and finally, we were alone.

We showered, slow and sweet, and finally fell into our tiny bed, all squashed together, as the sun started to rise.

The day would find us sleeping, and we were content with that. 

[bean-pole-art]

following is almost 1k of rhysothy goncharov au. under the cut cause yeah. it’s almost 1k long

His back slammed against the wall of the bridge. It was done, it was finally done.

Past hours seemed like a blur to him. Everything from Jack’s offer to the poker night with Timothy to Sasha’s shot against his collarbone to the showdown right there and then. His own heartbeat drummed in his ears, as he tried to catch a break. The early morning sun started to rise, basking Rhys with the dawn of a day he wasn’t supposed to live until.

Where was he even gonna go next? It all seemed said and done. Jack laid dead in the ditch on the motorboat, coating the fresh white paint with red. Sasha took the other one, going god knows where with that other woman Rhys wanted to call his friend. All those other people? Dead in the ditch, awaiting the judgment. Hell, maybe Rhys himself awaited the judgment himself.

If there was one person worth a damn, he was even more dead than the rest.

With nowhere to go, he simply sat there, still trying to catch a breath. There was nothing there, nothing in the future. Just the smoke coming off of the boat, filling Rhys’ lungs. All while his heart ached for the ending that wasn’t written for him.

Then suddenly he heard it. A splash of water, a hand gripping the edge of the bridge. Startled, Rhys ran towards it, exchanged his own hand, helping the drowned man out.

Several pulls and he was there. Gasping for air, soaking wet, on his knees before him, with only one hand to spare.

Rhys’ heart stopped in place, “Timothy.”

“In your presence,” coughed up Timothy brushing off the longer hair from his face. “I’m… Oh god…”

“Tim!”

A muffled scream escaped Rhys’ mouth, as he tried to catch him before he fell. Cradling him in his arms, he helped him sit down. His mind was racing, almost disbelieving he was even alive. Without a second thought, Rhys took off the jacket, finally returning Timothy’s possession to him.

“P-Please, tell me…” Timothy muttered, still coughing up. “You killed him.”

“He’s as dead as they can be. Trust me, I made sure,” he nodded, softly cradling Timothy, hoping he would get a bit warmer. “But you… You-You… I thought you were…”

“C’mon. I know how to swim, buttercup. I wouldn’t let my shithead brother live past me. Even 10 minutes,” Timothy smiled. Oh, that smile that melted his heart away.

“Damn right,” Rhys smiled as well, yet the exhaustion finally came through. With one movement, his head fell onto Timothy’s shoulder.

Who knew how long they stayed there. All Rhys knew that Timothy was alive, right there and then, despite everything. Despite Jack slicing his hand away. Despite throwing him aboard. And Rhys himself lived, despite how many gunshots went through to him.

“How was her… Sasha. She’s gone?” said Timothy, in a faint voice.

“Yes. Took all the money too.”

“Damn… I’m sorry…”

“It is what it is. I don’t think we were the right mix anyway,” Rhys sighed. That was probably the least of his problems.

A low hum escaped Timothy’s throat, placing his chin on the top of Rhys head. “So what now?”

Those words probably had never manifested within him. This time? They were true, “I don’t know. I have… Nothing.”

Timothy’s hand gripped onto his back, pulling him closer. What was there left for him, anyway? A fallen imperium, the maniac shot and dead, his wife running away. All that was left was now and then. Right in Timothy’s arms.

And maybe that was all that he needed.

“Hold on,” as Timothy said, Rhys looked up at him and got away from his grip. “I think you deserve to see this.”

Puzzled at first, Rhys noticed Timothy’s hand went to that soaked eyepatch of his. Ever since he met him, he wanted an answer to what was that so badly. The only one he got was that it was Timothy’s brother’s work. Now before him was an answer. A blinded eye, followed by a scar that always peeked just a little bit behind it.

“If I could, I’d kill the bastard twice,” Rhys muttered, his hand slowly going right to Timothy’s cheek.

All that was left was that stare of Timothy’s. The blinded eye and the one blue eye, one Rhys was ready to drown in.

“When he did this, I had nowhere to run. He took everything from me… As well,” he sighed, letting his own hand against his. “Rhys, you and I… That’s all we have left now.”

There truly was something haunting about him. The brother of one of the biggest mafiosos around, one that was forced to operate that dreaded casino as a cover up. When the casino was blown into pieces, he truly had nowhere to go. All when Rhys himself lost every piece of his life, the status, the mansion, his wife, all his friends by the doings of the same man. Every phone call manipulating him, every step of his calculation.

Timothy knew how it was. In all honesty, he was the only one who understood from the minute they met each other – tangled in lies, longing for a life on their own. A life they were given within the sound of a gunshot.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Rhys muttered, drawing his fingers against the arch of Timothy’s face.

Still close to him, he got off the cigars – all that was left on him when his house burnt down. Getting one in his mouth, he handed Timothy the other. A feeble attempt to warm them both up, yet one that was always there. One flick of his lighter and both the cigars burnt in their mouths.

The clock struck another hour. For the first time, Rhys didn’t care what time it was.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Recent Social Media Odds and Ends

@galadrieljones

Also, Gimple has been nostalgia posting on twitter a lot lately, talking about how he got his start on the show and about the end. He posted this tweet which I don’t think is any sort of smoking gun but it just reminded me of one of the most mysterious quotes of the entire show, which is when Sasha says, “We don’t die.”

In those big moments for Rick, the quotes seem to be teaching him something. Shane gives Rick strength by talking about Judith and loyalty and inspiring in him the darker side of survival where things get done. Shane is interesting as the anti-Rick but the most compelling message comes from what he says about the Third Man. “There was a third man,” which he says “changed everything.” Then, Hershel assures Rick that he doesn’t need to worry about Maggie, that he knows it’s been hard, but doesn’t need to worry because “We’ll get there. All of us.” 

After that, it’s Sasha who delivers the final message: “We don’t die.” I don’t know why it’s Sasha. But it is. All the messages seem to be telling us not to worry, but to pay attention, because there’s something at work that we don’t see, and it will change everything (the CRM). But they’re also telling us that everybody is still alive? In some way. It is a message about the kingdom of Heaven, God’s house, just like Gabriel’s sermon in WHAWGO, which is also about that which goes unseen. Idk the messages just seem to be about a reunion. Or telling Rick that this is all some sort of illusion. That they’ll all be together again someday, or that they never were actually apart? It’s so mysterious.

@wdway:

Does Gimple substitute numbers in his Twitter post often? 442. S4 series episode 42 was Dead Weight, the second Governor episode. Might not mean anything but the numbers just stood out to me.

@galadrieljones:

He did it a lot in this thread. Here’s the whole thing:

@wdway:

First block 1:4. S1e4 Vatos. Second block 12 series number 12 was Secrets. 2/3, s2e3 wastage the Last One.

@galadrieljones:

I have no idea if he’s put code in his tweets. He could be referencing 1.1, 4.12, 4.4…

Also I am once again thinking about Blair/Gina and morphic resonance. Like that there are multiple “tries” at work here, multiple threads of reality under the surface. In one of those threads they’re all still alive and together. They get the happy ending because they make the right choices. It’s what WHAWGO is all about. Martin tells us that our choices matter. He doesn’t get enough credit for that.

Bob seems to represent fate (It happened because it had to, because it was always going to), Martin represents free will (maybe if you’d made better choices, Beth would still be alive), and the Governor represents karma (you have to pay the bill). It’s sort of like A Christmas Carol, in which Tyreese sees the ghosts of the past, present, and future. Beth and the girls just represent temptation, ie: “It’s okay, Tyreese. It’s better now.” Innocence achieved through death, a clean slate, an indication that if you die, it will all just go away.

Idk where I’m going with this. It’s just ideas.

A Christmas Carol is also about getting a do-over, and alternate realities and causal loops.

Re: It’s a Wonderful Life, Lexmas, etc.

Groundhog Day, Mystery Spot, all stories of causal loops that have to be broken

@twdmusicboxmystery:

Also, I’ve been following the AMC account that has been counting down the top episodes. I’ve wondered what their number 1 would be. I didn’t really expect it to be Coda or anything super Beth related, but they went with 9x05: What Comes After, when Rick leaves. 

That seems very strategic to me. Like, it’s less the “best” episode of the series (even though it was definitely a very good one) and was probably chosen more to kick us into the CRM storyline. 

Also, let’s remember that Emily’s voice is in that episode, but she’s not identified as Beth but as a weirdly mysterious “woman.” And of course we also see her lying not far from Daryl in Rick’s dream, with blood on her arm. So, it feels significant that they chose that episode.

https://www.instagram.com/p/ClMUGlBOg5T/?igshid=MWI4MTIyMDE=

@twdmusicboxmystery:

People are sending me this on IG. This video was posted by the official AMC account about 6 hours ago. I’m not sure if it’s the one I sent you above, but they’ve posted a whole bunch of montage videos today. For this one; it has lots of stuff in it. Not just Bethyl. But they used Daryl carrying Beth as the thumbnail that shows in the wall. 

Hint: IG will pick a default image to the be the thumbnail of the poster doesn’t pick one, but it always asks you specifically if you want to pick one. Which means either way they specifically picked or agreed to using this as the thumbnail. I’m just saying.

Next, @katkhaos posted an interview Norman gave to Vanity Fair in the group. You should both read it when you get a chance. Lotss of good stuff in it. But here are some things that jumped out at me. First, Norman uses the term "coda," which is always nice to see. He's talking about the Rick and Michonne bit of the finale, but still.

Next, I really loved this, even though it's not particularly TD. He talks about a small, angry group of people who are convinced he and the other actors and AMC are lying about why Melissa is not in the spinoff. He says they're simply wrong. But it also shows that they know these are just the outliers, not most of the fandom. That's nice to have confirmation on.

 Finally, what Kat points to in the group is that he zeros in on the line Judith says about Daryl deserving a happy ending. He says that, more than any other line in the show, will lead into the spinoff. Honestly, Gals, I've wondered a bit if the spinoff will truly be about Beth. Not that I'm doubting her return, but rather I'm just wondering if the spinoff will be about something small and then we'll get Beth at the very end, and have to wait until the next thing to get their story or something. But this definitely shows that the spinoff will be about Daryl's "happy ending," and we all know that will include Beth. ;D

@galadrieljones:

Not really news but some confirmation on Rick’s location in the coda.

https://twitter.com/twalkingdworld/status/1595205710530289664?s=46&t=Ra_ilvCGb2OAMY3oVgK1kA

@wdway:

Rick is on the opposite side of the Delaware River.

 The first time I actually sent the painting with Washington this one is actually Rick. And who is that behind him, Jesus or some would say Christ and who is the Christ figure=Beth..

@galadrieljones:

Hey everyone! Hope your night before Thanksgiving is going well Here’s a Gimple tweet I appreciated. Not Bethyl but he has been tweeting a lot lately so I’m hoping this trend continues!

@twdmusicboxmystery:

Lol. Love it! I wish Gimple was on social media more. Glad to hear he’s tweeting.

@wdway:

Hopefully what they are doing is making it obvious for us. Here's our bone. I hope they keep coming and get meater as time goes by.

Guys I hope this means just as Michonne stumbled across Rick's boots and cell phone Daryl will have a similar parallel in finding Beth things. My bet is one of them will be her necklace. Her boots are very distinctive but would that be overdoing it, way too obvious or are we at this point of be damned let's go for it.

@twdmusicboxmystery:

Let’s hope they continue to go for it! I’ve been thinking about Rick/Silas parallels and how the actor who plays Silas jokingly suggested we would see Rick in the TWB finale. I can’t help but wonder now if it was less a deceptive tease and more a hint. Like maybe the TWB actors already knew more about the Rick/Silas parallels than the GA does. No way to know either way, but it seems really convenient for him to have said that, with what we know now.

@boltthrutheheart:

I know that I have told you before that I sometimes play the Walking Dead Slots game. I believe I have even shared something similar before. In the game, they have a mini game featuring characters from the show that you can level up and send on missions to get free coins. They call the different collection of characters “seasons”, each of them have a cohesive theme, and each season lasts a couple of months. 

Beth was included in a season before that was themed for the farm. It has been a while since she has been included in the mini game because they focused on the Whisperers, Alexandria, and some other themes, but she is in the latest season (which has been going on a few month’s, I have just been a little absent minded in sharing it). 

So Beth is currently in a character collection called “Fallen Heroes”. The funny thing about it is, not all the characters in it are “fallen”. The characters included are mostly characters that there is no doubt about being dead. They were very very dead the last time we encountered them. There is Glenn, Abraham, Carl, Enid, Jesus, and Hershel. 

Then there is Beth. She of course is in a grey area since we didn’t see her in a very dead state or buried like we saw the other characters. The final “Fallen” character they included is Rick, and Rick is very much alive. I just thought that this might be of some interest to you. I have some screenshots to share, but I don’t play enough to have all their characters leveled up (although you can tell who they are in the silhouette that is there).”

@twdmusicboxmystery:

I just think it's a super cool clue that in the Fallen Heroes group, all of them are very obviously dead and could not possibly come back, except Rick and Beth. And Rick is very clearly alive. Yet another clue to Beth's survival. That's all. ;D

@wdway:

Loved this. All of these small hints/clues that keeps Beth's character front and center to a smaller to diverse TWD audience. I would never have seen this because I'm not a gamer. Gamers are an area that they're covering bringing in that fraction of the fans.

@galadrieljones:

I do enjoy how they seem to be keeping her alive here

@wdway:

I'm going to start off with something that has just been replaying in my mind since I read it the other day. I'll give you the whole little sections of question and answer from Gimple instead of just what I zeroed in on.

It's the last paragraph that stood out to me. They're talking about announcing early with the spin-offs and how Jeffrey was very upset about it. Gimple is saying that because so many people have seen Lauren and Jeffrey filming in New Jersey that people would have known about it anyway but then he goes on to say he would have been crazy enough to announce that it was going to be a sitcom between the two. 

What struck me is that he's actually admitting to lying about a certain story lines in order to keep what's going on on the down low. I realize we've known this for a long time or suspected greatly that he bends the truth to fit how he wants things to be presented or hidden but here we have him actually saying that's what he would have done if not for that fact it had already been announced.

https://www.facebook.com/1491451041161527/posts/pfbid04uLcRDhf46ugYX8rKexasJBqCJha32tQZCquoRFDDPYozaoP3xogc8BWSHsYzmYil/?mibextid=Nif5oz

This explains a lot about the people seeing older characters during filming. It also may explain why there was reportedly a script called Atlanta.

@galadrieljones:

Interesting. Personally I don’t like massive time jumps so I’m glad they didn’t do that. Just my opinion. Ofc I’m also glad the story isn’t over, and in a way, I feel they was perhaps why the shows ending felt strange. Because it isn’t over? It’s unclear which aspects will go away and which will continue to develop, especially outside the characters who we know will be in spin-offs.

I get they wanted to do the show justice with an appropriate emotional ending, but I feel as if it opened more doors and asked more questions than it answered.

Like Judith telling Daryl he deserves a happy ending, Daryl leaving, Negan just wandering off, etc.

@wdway:

I think the original plan ending for the series would have been to pacify the comic readers.

@twdmusicboxmystery:

This is all super interesting! Thanks for sharing it. I agree about Gimple bending the truth. We've known that for a long time, but it's nice to have some confirmation we can point to. 

It reminded me of the way they originally marketed the Carol/Daryl spinoff, calling it a "road trip" show. For me, I think that was a hint that Carol and Daryl would leave together to find Beth, like they did in S5. That's what they originally planned, but of course it has changed now since MMB backed out. But I think the "road trip" thing was exactly this. It was Gimple being satirical, as he would have been had he announced that the Maggie/Negan spinoff was a sitcom. 

I've said this before, but Gimple doesn't have the best comic timing. I think it makes him lovably nerdy, but it also means that sometimes, when he makes jokes--such as on TTD--they don't entirely land. And I think this is a similar thing. He'll say something tongue-in-cheek about some part of TWDU, but people have a hard time telling when he's being serious and when he's teasing them. 

I mean, they keep saying the spinoff will have a very different tone from the main show. And of course it will. How can it not, given that it's in France and deals with different characters than we've seen before (other than Daryl)? But that doesn't mean it will stop being TWD. Every episode of Tales had a different tone than the main show, but it's still very recognizable as TWD.

Anyway. As for the second article, I agree with you both. I'm glad they didn't go with that ending. For me, it would have been somewhat deceptive to viewers. We would have seen the grown kids, and most people would have assumed that Daryl, Rick, and Michonne never made it back to them. 

They shouldn't assume that. As 20-somethings, the kids could be out on their own looking for survivors, and Rick and Michonne and everyone could be back at Alexandria waiting for them. No reason to think all the adults didn't make it back only a few months after Daryl left. And that ending by no means suggests anything would have changed in the spinoffs and the way they're expanding the universe. It only would have suggested that the kids survive into adulthood, so anytime they're in danger in the show, we'd know they will be fine, lol. 

But if it didn't specifically show the adults returning, you know plenty of people would have assumed that and been up in arms about it. There would have been a lot of resulting drama in the fandom. So again, I too am glad they didn't go that route.

I’ll stop there for today. What do you think of these social media tidbits?