#hilltop road if it was good
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OH MY GOD.
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@wormsontoast I do indeed have some thoughts about Archivist!Georgie (from the au vaguely outlined here) and since you showed a mild interest in it, I shall now tell you all about it here haha
So there are two things I kinda want to say before I keep going because this au has been changing and shifting in my head a lot and I want to get a bit more of it out into the world.
The first is that each archivist au is based off of as few changes as possible to the canon timeline, aiming (ideally) for only one change that causes ripples throughout the timeline. For example, in the Gertrude-causes-the-apocalypse au, the one change is that Agnes and Gertrude get bound when they are both much younger and the web manipulates things from there, yada yada that's not why we're here BUT you see the vision.
The other thing is that my initial intention was that most people would have a pair, forming some sort of couple or QPR, two people against the world kinda thing - one of them would be the Archivist and one of them would be their apocalypse + 1. This was mostly because (in my head at least) I saw one very eye-aligned character in each couple.
BUT I have recently been doing a re-listen and one thing that stands out to me is that so many of the main characters want to know things, that I think a lot of them could have ended up in the Archivist position in fact. Martin seems to actively encourage reading statements in S3, and Tim definitely has the motivation (when the circus gets involved at least) to be manipulated into the position - more curious though are Daisy and Georgie.
I'll leave a potential archivist!Daisy post for another day (because that's a wild au and a half haha) and talk instead about Georgie, who was meant to be the purpose of this post lol (I'll pop it under a readmore)
So, Georgie - the first thing is how does she become the Archivist? I think the point of divergence for this au would be that Georgie and Jon don't break up during Uni (or just after) and keep their relationship kinda going for a while, and when Jon mentions joining the Magnus Institute, Georgie goes with him.
The real question is why. Georgie in the podcast is fairly avidly against chasing the monsters, so I can see her as taking a job there as a way of keeping Jon safe - I think she sees him as quite naive for his scepticisim and knows that she will not talk him out of it, so she better just be there to stop him from going somewhere he shouldn't.
Jon and Georgie do break-up though, although fairly amicably. They keep living together because it's way cheaper than living alone in London and they are friends. Georgie also starts WTG but it's very much a side project to work (one that she keeps putting off making her full time job, even though she wants to, because the Institute's library is just too good for research).
She's also the one to push him towards the cute librarian with whom Jon has several cringefail attempts to woo before they start tentatively dating.
I reckon that during the course of being in research (with Jon and Tim and Sasha), Georgie gets marked by the web. They'd marked Jon but then Georgie had come, and so they saw an opportunity in her (or wanted a back-up just in case).
Either way, by the time that Gertrude dies, Georgie is the one that Elias chooses as the next Archivist (and I honestly think that Gertrude might have thought that Georgie would be the next Archivist too - Sasha is good but you can't beat actual fearlessness coupled with good sense).
She gets to take with her Jon and Sasha and Tim (Elias is like...let's make sure I have plenty of hostages to work with when the time is right) and that's the Archives team sorted. They're fairly competent, considering the fact that none of them have a library science degree.
Season 1 goes much the same but we meet Martin when he escapes Prentiss. Jon has been going to the library for Georgie, getting out books on archiving and the like and periodically finding references, mostly because he's the one who's closest to the library staff (well, one library staff member in particular).
But Jon mentions that Georgie assigned him the Vittery statement - something about facing his fears - and he hates it, so Martin suggests they go together after work, and he would deal with any remaining spiders for Jon. (Who is Martin, if not down bad for Jon?)
(That is, of course, a rhetorical question lol)
Something something, Martin gets trapped in his apartment for two weeks by the Worm Woman despite not actually being in the Archives. Then he comes straight to the Archives to give a statement, where Jon is working late and waiting for Georgie to finish so they can go home. Jon is the one that suggests Martin stay in the Archives, after he turned down the offer of staying on their sofa.
So Martin lives in document storage and continues working in the library with the rest of his coworkers none-the-wiser, and gets kinda absorbed into the Archives nonsense as Sasha meets Michael etc. etc. And Martin and Jon get really close, from late nights and evenings and weird little dates.
It goes from like...dating to being genuinely quite serious; they have been together for probably like 2 or 3 years by this point but this is a tipping point in their relationship. They keep talking about how they'll move in together after all this is over, so Georgie can finally have her home studio and Martin doesn't have to go back to his flat.
Anyway-
There's also Melanie. She comes in because Georgie was one of the people she contacted in her search for answers and Georgie was like...come and make a statement, maybe we can do something.
Melanie is slightly less derisive of the Magnus Institute (only slightly) mostly because she likes Georgie more lol
Martin is in the library when Prentiss attacks, and is the one that Sasha finds when she runs up from the Archives. Jon and Georgie and Tim are down in the archives, knocking in walls and fighting off worms, and Sasha and Martin go find the CO2 suppression system.
Sasha turns the right corner; Martin doesn't and ends up in Artefact Storage.
Tim finds Gertrude's body. The tide of worms split him off from Georgie and Jon who end up getting wormed in the archives before the fire suppression system gets set off.
They have a few weeks off. Not!Martin and Jon do move in together as had been planned, staying at Georgie's while sorting out a place together. Before everyone returns to the Institute (Martin got the time off too because he was deemed sufficiently traumatised by it all), Jon and Martin move in together, Sasha and Tim have another ill-advised hook-up and Georgie ends up...alone.
Queue the paranoia arc. Georgie might not be able to feel fear but I think that would make a paranoia arc even funnier, because she is convinced that she is seeing things Rationally only for her very much not doing that.
So the thoughts get a bit vague from here. I have some thoughts for each character though!
Martin is obviously taken by the Not!Them in this and so that really fucks Jon up. Jon is Georgie's oldest friend and very much her closest support net, often being the one to feel fear in her place (like she uses him to gauge how she should react to a situation, something that developed because there hasn't really been a time since Georgie returned to Uni where they haven't been in relatively close proximity).
So Jon goes off the deep-end after the revelation of Martin's death and the fact that he wasn't even living with the guy. He takes the responsibility of Martin's mother onto his shoulders, he literally ties up all of Martin's loose ends and then I think he just...stops caring.
It's a mix between Tim's complete S3 despair and Jon's S2 paranoia. He literally cannot trust anyone anymore, no matter how hard he tries, except maybe Georgie because of the whole Archivist thing. And so he goes to the circus with Georgie and Tim and Basira and Daisy.
And he is the one to press the button and die.
I don't usually like taking that away from Tim, because it is a decision so tightly linked to his backstory but I actually put him as ending up in the Coffin in this, shoved in there by a well-meaning Gerogie with her mind being twisted by the Unknowing.
I like the idea of Georgie having a bit of a superiority complex in this AU, where she is sure that she knows better than everyone else because she can't feel fear so she can see things Rationally and Correctly (she wildly underestimates how much other emotions can influence you).
Anyway, back to Tim. He wasn't as depressed during S3 because Georgie's own mini-paranoia arc involved a lot more of digging into statements because she is much more certain that the knowledge of who killed Gertrude is in there, and also Sasha is very much alive and well.
I mean, Jon's rancid vibes are definitely off-putting but like this is at the point where they realise they can't leave and the dread powers exist so the vibes aren't great anyway.
So Tim ends up in the Buried. How does he get out you ask?
Sasha.
I have been waiting for a potential AU in which to put Vast!Sasha and I have decided this is the one. No I don't know how yet but this is my decision - I love the idea of Buried!Tim and Vast!Sasha being something of a couple.
Beyond that for them though, it's mostly vibes.
I think Basira might actually choose to work with Peter Lukas in this one. I wouldn't have Georgie go into a coma post-Unknowing because she's already touched by the End and I don't think she would choose to wake up again, because she simply doesn't have the fear of death that influenced Jon, so she's around for the inter-season shenanigans that occurred.
So Basira doesn't trust her or Elias or Peter, but she decides that as she knows Elias and Georgie, and she's been offered this position by Peter, she'll take it.
(She's trying to ignore the pull of Daisy, hunting out there somewhere, lost after the circus - she never even got the chance to fight against it)
Melanie would be a very interesting one indeed, because part of what attracted her to Georgie in the first place (I think) is that Georgie knows about the entities and can understand her trauma, but is determined to not be a part of it, so they would be so much more messy than in canon.
I honestly couldn't say how her story would thus change. Melanie is a very fascinating character to me and I struggle to sort her out in my head without writing her (and so is Georgie - that's the problem with not writing them as much as some other characters :/) - that said, I do think she doesn't go full eye gouging because she does really love Georgie and doesn't want to leave her in hell alone.
(Hand in unlovable hand and all)
(I also think that Tim and Sasha might decide to do some eye-gouging with friends, as not-quite fully realised avatars of other powers, and try and settle down together somewhere, just in time for the apocalypse)
I'm not sure what all of Georgie's marks would be, or how she'd get them, and if you've got this far I am sure you understand my thoughts are vague and disjointed; but know it will be tragic and upsetting because I refuse to let myself write happy AUs lol
ANYWAY, thank you for showing an interest in this AU :)
#congratulations if you got to the bottom of this lol#I just...love other people as the archivist AUs#even if I love Jon a bit too much to not spend so much time focusing on him lol#ANYWAY#I do enjoy thinking about Georgie or Melanie or Basira or Daisy#Because of the main eight archives team they are the ones I don't write as much#so it's a good test of my knowledge of their characters haha#Georgie Barker#Melanie King#Jonathan Sims#Martin Blackwood#Sasha James#TMA#TMA AU#Timothy Stoker#Basira Hussain#All Ways Lead To Hilltop Road#Fae's Stuff
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the web, the spider, the mother of puppets, which controls the kids at the halfway house on hilltop road into complacency so that when they're old enough to leave they can be puppeted back to the house's basement, eat a cursed apple, and get made into a spider cocoon/egg sac: 😈🕸🕷😈
also the web: YEAH YOUR FUTURE IS TO BE AN EGG SAC BUT YOU ARE ALL STILL GOING TO BRUSH YOUR TEETH EVERY DAY OR SO HELP ME 😡🦷🪥‼️‼️‼️
#mag 59#the magnus archives#tma#r relistens to tma#ronald sinclair#the web#hilltop road#sorry it's just so funny to me bc that's smth that ronald notes as a specific instance of the stuff they would all do without realizing#why does the web care about good dental hygiene??#idk but it's hilarious to me especially considering the ending most of those kids ended up with#you may have been consumed by a dread fear power#but at least you have great teeth!#r tags#r speaks#mag 59 recluse
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Not underground or anything, but there is a Panopticon prison in Manchester !
HM Prison, also known as Strangeways, and designed by Alfred Waterhouse.
I'm not sure what to do exactly with that information, but it seems important to note, because at first I thought that the Institute was in Manchester because it was never moved to London to be built over Millbank ruins, right ?
But if we take that fact into consideration, it might mean something else. Though keep in mind that the prison was opened in 1868, 50 years after the supposed founding of the Institute. We can't be sure it's related, but I'm too invested in this to write it down as a coincidence.
wait. guys. the magnus institute was built over millbank prison, right? but this one wasn't. this time it's not in london. so what's it built over this time?
#jonny is driving me nad with his writing#because on one side he is a genius very good at including foreshadowing and subtext#but on the other we are talking about the man that put the gap in reality in hilltop road because he forgot the right dates on a statement#its infuriating#tmagp#the magnus protocol
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tmagp7 is anatomy class students robbing salesa of his homophobic vase and magic carpet and all kinds of other shit and donating it to the orphans of hilltop road </3 good for them hope theyre doing well
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Celia’s going to the Magnus Institute I think, or at least, whatever takes ahold of her is trying to take her there, because she was outside of London here.
I don’t know why would want her to go there, but it can’t be for anything good.
Edit: Just read the official transcript, and she’s in Oxford. Oh god. Hilltop road. That’s worse.
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Those Summer Nights, When I Look in Your Eyes
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Setting: Commonwealth (No France) Warnings: Sexual Situations; Vague Smut
Summary: Daryl's childhood had lacked so much and at the beginning of the turn, he had never known love beyond Merle's version of it. Now, he had it all and he would never let them wonder how much he cherished them.
A/N: For @louifaith, I hope this is close to what you imagined for our archer. 🩵 - Also, I have Daryl calling reader "pip" because someone suggested him nicknaming her "pipsqueak" in another story and it has just stuck with me. I was as vague as possible about reader’s age but let me be clear - she is above 18. I don’t write for huge age gaps. I don’t judge those that do and I do read them. I just do not write them but I have no control over where your mind takes you. Anyway, the song he hums is attached. ;)
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Life was good.
For thirteen years, there had never been a point in time where Daryl had felt like he could say that and genuinely believe it. For an entire year, the Commonwealth had thrived. Not a single threat. The walls held. The governing unit was fair and compassionate. It really was like the old world.
But not for Daryl.
In the old world, he had been a drifter. A useless drifter walking in the shadow of his brother. No job, no friends, no purpose. And he had, at that time, liked it that way.
Not anymore.
Because now he had a job. He had friends. He had a family. He had a purpose. And he had everything he had lacked growing up. He had love, and not just Merle’s variation of it.
Carol had taken over Lance’s position when Ezekiel and Mercer had stepped up to govern. She had pulled Daryl aside and asked him if he wanted to stay in their reformed force, giving him the choice. His decision was to promptly decline. So they put their heads together to come up with something.
Daryl possessed many skills, most of them learned by doing throughout the years. He had one condition that he would not negotiate on, however.
Daryl’s time outside the walls was over.
He agreed to train hunters to take his place and conceded to three weeks on the road with volunteers that he left up to Carol’s choosing. There was more than enough trust between them for him to be comfortable with who she would deem worthy to provide for the community.
Then he was given the job of overseeing construction and structural upkeep, equipment maintenance, and of course, a seat in the governmental advisory council. He was nothing if not adaptable and took to his position quickly, finding that he liked it. He was respected and his suggestions for the good of the community were heard and considered.
If he chose to hunt or ride, it would be for leisure but he’d hardly needed it in the past year. Domestic life had tamed the inner need to hide or escape that had been ingrained throughout the years even before the turn.
Years ago, you had tumbled into his life. A hot mess that he had spent many a day battling the urge to absolutely throttle. You had a stubborn streak a mile wide that made his own nothing more than a small trail. He absolutely couldn’t stand you.
Funny thing, time.
Now you wore his ring and proudly carried his last name. You had wanted the ceremony, even if his proposal was lackluster. He had been seeking you out after the end of the Whisperers.
“Where’s Y/N?” At first no one answered. He barely parted his lips, intent on asking again with a little more well placed ardor when a woman he recognized as a former Hilltop resident spoke up. “I saw your wife! She’s over with the children!” He muttered his thanks and took a single step before you were finding him. “Daryl!” Your body collided with his, knocking the air from his lungs. His heartbeat lowered regardless, feeling you there in his arms, alive and breathing and whole. “I couldn’t see you in the herd. I was about to come find you but Jude, she made me promise to stay.” “M’here. An’ they’re gone” He tightened his arms around you and rested his cheek on the crown of your head. “So I’m your wife now, huh?” He felt the shift of your facial muscles against his chest, knew you were smiling. “What of it?” He grunted. “Ya wanna be?” He felt his heart skip a few beats when you lifted your head to smile at him, beaming and beautiful. “Of course, I do. Might as well be at this point. We sound like an old married couple.” Daryl snorted and then shrugged. “Then I guess we are.” “That simple?” “That simple.” When you grinned, he knew you would never let it be that simple.
You got your wedding, simple and intimate, with only the few remaining people that were closest to the two of you. When Gabriel said the words, you got your ring, too. Oh, the hell and herds Daryl had gone through to get them. Matching bands, camelot black titanium. Crafted to withstand the way the world was.
He was twisting the ring round and round as he walked home, tired from a full day’s work and more than ready for the weekend with his family: you, Jude, RJ, and his little River. His boy was nearly two years old, the spitting image of Daryl with a heaping dose of your attitude.
You were younger than Daryl, still at an age where pregnancy and giving birth was not considered risky beyond the state the world was in and the lack of some resources. It was horrifying yet the best news he’d ever heard in his self-proclaimed useless life.
River Merle came along right in the midst of the unease in the Commonwealth. When they had taken you and River along with Jude and RJ, it had required all the power Carol possessed to stop Daryl from losing his goddamn mind. He was prepared to rip out entrails with his bare hands and use them to strangle each and every trooper that stood between him and his wife and kids. It was not a good time to support Pamela.
It all worked out in the end when, bruised but alive, the people took back the Commonwealth.
And now, here he was. A husband. A father. A boss. A survivor.
Life. Was. Good.
“Ya home, Pip?” The words habitually rolled off his tongue the moment he opened the door and stepped inside. Jude and RJ were watching a movie, the elder looking over with a hey, Uncle Daryl before turning right back to the television. It was the weekend. No reason to bug them about homework.
“Where else would we be?” You called from the kitchen. Daryl unlaced his boots, was in the middle of pulling off the second one when you came out with River on your hip. “Someone’s cranky today.”
“I ain’t cranky.”
“I’m not talking about you but assuming I was says a lot.” You smiled softly, passing off the baby while simultaneously stealing a kiss. “Hi.”
“Hey.” He nearly melted, probably would have if you weren’t situating a small human right against his chest.
“Get a room.” Judith was rolling her eyes when Daryl shot her a harmless look.
River’s little arms went straight around his father’s neck, his little hiccups and sniffles muffled against Dary’s shirt. “S’wrong, lil’ man. Mama houndin’ ya over veggies like she does me an’ RJ?” River pulled back, rubbing his left eye with a chubby fist, looking at Daryl with a scowl that he knew very well adorned his own face more often than not. Even being so content with his life, he couldn’t seem to rid himself of what you called his resting bitch face.
“Daddy.” Was all the boy said before burying his face back into Daryl’s shirt.
“He had a nap?” Daryl was jostling his son as little as possible while ridding himself of his precious vest, tossing it over the back of ‘his’ chair at the dining table. His large hand covered a wide expanse of the small boy’s back when he rubbed soothing little circles, following you into the kitchen. You shook your head and took the lid off the pot on the stove. The scent of meat and herbs wafted toward Daryl and his mouth watered, but first thing was first.
“He wouldn’t go down. I think it’s a daddy day.” You smiled at the sauce but it wasn’t meant for the pasta topping at all. Daddy days were Daryl’s favorite. River wanted absolutely no one but him. The baby would fuss during meals, refuse to nap, and absolutely forget about bath and bedtime unless Daryl was there.
“I got ‘im then. See if I can get ‘im down for a bit.” Daryl was ducking and angling his head to catch River’s attention, finally earning a shy smile when blue met blue and the archer scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue. Pressing a kiss into the mess of wavy hair, he noticed you standing with your back against the countertop, a certain type of smile on your face.
“What?”
“Nothing. You’re just sexy.”
“Pfft, stop.”
“We are so playing chess tonight.”
Daryl arched a brow. “Yeah?”
You nodded, your smile morphing into something else entirely; something sinful. “Oh, yeah.”
Dinner done, older kids in their rooms after teeth brushing and goodnight hugs, Daryl sat in the nursery with a sleepy River resting his head on his father’s shoulder while the chair gently rocked. The baby’s hair was only the least bit damp but he smelled of the lavender lotion that you always seemed to have near the changing table, instructing Daryl to use it after baths and before bed because it was calming.
Bathed and in a fresh diaper and pajamas, mini-Daryl was beginning to drift off while his father simply rubbed his back or kissed his cheek or even held a little hand just to count the fingers over and over. Soon enough there would be potty training and pre-school—Carol had said that was still a thing in the world now and yes, they had one in the Commonwealth—so for now, Daryl just wanted to soak it all up, take it all in.
River would likely be the only baby the two of you would have, so not a single second was being wasted or taken for granted. You kept a daily journal of simple things that some might find trivial but Daryl knew he’d be reading that journal often enough to wear the ink right off the pages. Sometimes, he missed things because of work, but in the end, that’s what happened when you were a parent, he supposed. His old man didn’t care about milestones or daddy days, and his mama wasn’t around for bath time or boo-boo kisses. River would have it all. And as long as they were his to care for, so would Judith and RJ. In fact, since the baby had Daryl, you were currently reading a story to Rick and Michonne’s son before bed.
Man, if Rick could see Daryl now. Would his brother even recognize him? God, would his brother even recognize him? He let his mind drift for a moment to Rick and Merle, just long enough to keep them close and then he was back to River, pressing a kiss to a chubby cheek.
You would always rock and sing to the little one but he didn’t need that from Daryl. There was just something about their bond that didn’t require words and hardly even movement. It had been that way since the moment you had pushed him into the world. He had cried, red-faced and angry and cold while Tomi leaned to put him onto your chest. You had your time with him, cuddling and nursing, his little sounds still expressing his discontentment with the change from your warm womb to a loud, bright world.
They had Daryl take off his shirt, which he didn’t understand until you explained better than any doctor or nurse could. The moment River was pressed against his skin, the connection was apparent to anyone who saw. The baby went silent, wide eyes mirroring the ones Daryl himself had. He had felt guilty for the longest time that River wanted you to feed him and then he wanted his daddy back immediately. He still had his mommy days and you said that was enough.
You were always supportive, never angry or jealous. You’d share the moments with him while he enjoyed them with you.
It was all what he’d never had, so he’d make sure River, Judith, and RJ never went without it.
His eyes were slow to open, squinting at the traitorous window that dared let the morning rays creep across the bed and to his pillow. It took a few sluggish blinks to remember what day it was and that he was free to go back to sleep until River required either you or him. With a deep breath, he stretched his arms above his head and looked at you, still wrapped around him with your head on his chest. Naked. Still so very, very naked.
He was barely in the bedroom door before you were pushing him against it, almost catching his fingers when he attempted to mute the sound of it closing at his back. You had his shirt unbuttoned and your mouth on his before he could even take a breath. “I told you,” you panted against his lips, “we’re playing chess tonight.” Daryl grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you easily, spinning you to press you against the door. “Goddamn right, we are.” The first round was a frenzied bout of moaning and skin slapping skin, hands covering mouths to keep the noise down. Your nails had left gouges on Daryl’s ass and back, clawing at him for more. You weren’t unscathed. A bruise was blooming on the curve of your right breast, a perfect black and purple bite he had inflicted at some point. It ended with you lying across Daryl’s torso while he was flat on his back with the pillow halfway over his face. Panting and sweating while the sheet covered neither of you where it mattered. Why it was anywhere near either of you was anyone’s guess. The second time was slower, every second savored. Your fingertips memorizing his face while his hips rolled into you, back arching to push himself deeper. His lips were on your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks and mouth. His fingers danced down your ribcage and back up to your breasts, gentle caresses while he pressed his lips over the mark he’d left earlier. You didn’t have to try hard to roll him over. He went willingly, his hands going straight for your hips. You let your fingers roam his chest and stomach. His scars were yours to explore, he’d given that power over to you long ago. The marks no longer held him prisoner after you’d shown him how to be free. You were incredibly attracted to the way his body had softened with age and he worshiped each wrinkle and stretch mark that time and pregnancy had gifted you. You loved each other wholly, without condition.
And you laid where you had collapsed, goosebumps on your skin from the cool morning air. Daryl didn’t want to go back to sleep, so he laid there, watching you and just enjoying the silence with the knowledge that his family was safe. That you had survived together and built something so precious.
When River began to fuss, it was Daryl that slipped out of bed and left you to rest a bit longer. He had no qualms with being the one to get up earlier to take care of the baby.
The weekend went by fast, as it often did. Sunday night, he found himself sitting on the couch after the kids were all asleep. He had helped clean up after dinner and was contently watching you pick up toys and fold laundry. He didn’t step in to help because he had no intention of allowing you to continue for long.
“What?” You finally inquired, obviously catching him staring.
“Nothin’.” He smirked, huffing a laugh that came out as an exhale through his nose. You were still regarding him when he stood and beckoned you with a finger. “C’mere.” Your pretty eyes narrowed but you placed the unfolded towel on the top of the pile in the basket and stepped into his space. Daryl wasn’t romantic, truly believed he didn’t have it in him to be anything near it. Still, when he guided your arms to his shoulders and lowered his hands to your hips, he watched you melt.
“There’s no music, Daryl.”
“Don’t need it.” He shrugged, just swaying back and forth with you, pulling you closer until you rested your head against his chest.
“The formidable Daryl Dixon is dancing with me when there’s no music playing. This’ll make the papers. It’ll be the headline.”
“Stop.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. He was smiling when you sighed, somehow pressing yourself closer to him. You didn’t react at first when he started to hum, whether you were in shock or just relishing the moment. Maybe both. You let him continue.
It was an old tune, one from a favorite album released more than a decade before the first walker rose from the dead. The tune was slow and deep, his chest vibrating with every drone. Finally, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, the corners of your mouth perked.
“What is that?”
“How dare ya! S’Ozzy, woman.” He feigned offense but was tenderly tucking your hair behind your ears.
“I’ve never heard it.”
Daryl scowled playfully before scrunching his nose. “Remind me why I married ya?” You wrapped yourself around him and with the fondest smile he had ever let cross his face, he held you tighter.
“Because you love me.”
“Yeah.” He breathed. “Yeah, I do.”
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#murda writes#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl x female reader#dad!daryl#daryl fluff#domestic!daryl#Spotify
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Teen spirit
Pairing: Carl Grimes x reader
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood
Chapter: 6.07
You silently prayed, holding onto the silver cross Carl gave you while Maggie slept in the bed in the RV. She was in so much pain, and eventually exhaustion had taken over her. The thought of losing her terrified you.
Rick crouches down beside you and gently squeezes your shoulder. “Do you remember the night at the prison when the gate fell down and the walkers got through; it was at the same time everyone was sick with the flu?”
You wipe at your eyes, which now feel sticky with tears. “Yeah?”
“Me, you, and Carl stopped the horde from getting to the people we love.”
“I don’t understand,” you admit.
“You needed to be brave that night, just as you have so many other times. When you shot Ron... Maggie needs you to be brave now.”
“I’m scared I’m going to lose her.”
“I know, but the doctor in Hilltop will take good care of her.” Rick lowers his voice. “It’s not just your sister that needs you; Carl does as well. He’s trying to be strong, but everything that’s happened since we arrived in Alexandria... I know he’s struggling.”
You turn your head and nod, “Okay.”
Rick kisses your forehead and goes to join Sasha, Abraham, Eugene, Aaron, and Carl at the front of the RV, but just as he does, the campervan comes to a sudden halt.
“What’s going on?”
“Enemy close,” Abraham says calmly.
You stand up to look out of the front window to see a group of men with guns standing around a man who is laying on the road who looks as if he’s had a bad beating.
Rick goes to open the door, but pauses and hands you a gun first. “YN, stay here with Maggie. The rest of you are with me.”
You crouch down, trying to keep out of view while watching. It’s hard for you to hear everything that’s being said, but Rick and the other man in charge have a standoff, but surprisingly no bullets are fired.
—
Carl tilts the blinds to look out of the window, watching as Walker stumbles through the field next to the road. He closes the blinds and looks at Aaron, “Why didn’t you stay back and defend the place?”
You were sitting further up the RV at a small table with Eugene trying to help him look for another route to Hilltop from your current position, but you still had a view of the bed your sister was in, including those sitting next to her.
“I owe her,” Aaron answers, looking at Maggie. “Why did you come?”
“I owe them, plus I need to keep Y/N safe.”
You start to grow nervous when Eugene stops mumbling to himself; you’re afraid there is no other route, and the only other options are to return home and hope for the best, or fight with the men from the saviors and hope for the best. But Eugene finally breaks his silence. “I think I’ve got something.”
—
“Do you think you could do it?” Abraham asks as he drives the RV along the new route. It was only the two of you sitting up the front, so you weren’t sure where the conversation was coming from since you’d been sitting in silence.
“Do what?”
“Do what Maggie and Glenn did with Carl?”
You laugh at his words, “I’m too young to think about marriage and babies.”
“I may have agreed with you at one point, but now in this new world?” He sees the expression on your face and chuckles to himself, “I’m not saying you get Gabriel to perform a ceremony the moment we go home, but if what you have is special, then never let it go. No matter how old you are.”
You knew Abraham was just trying to distract you from being upset, but you did appreciate it. “The last thing anybody needs is a drunk behind the wheel.”
“You always had a smart mouth on ya, I was starting to miss hearing your shit talk.”
Growing up the way you did, your mother and father always drilled it into you to be polite, respectful, and never swear, and even during the apocalypse, you were afraid something bad would happen if you did. “My daddy would have said you were a bad influence.”
“That’s funny because Glenn said the exact same thing to me last week.” He clears his throat. “Tell you what? Once this is all done and dusted, I’ll teach you how to drive properly so the next time I’m drunk driving, you can take over.”
“Deal.”
A few more moments of silence pass until Abraham turns the corner and you see another group of men with guns blocking the road, “bitch nuts. Y/N, don’t get too close to the window.”
Everyone gathers to stare at the men; you gulp down. If they decided to attack now, it wouldn’t take long for all of you to be dead. Unless Abraham managed to speed away, then our group would easily be overpowered.
“Do we make a stand?” Sasha asks.
“Yeah,” Carl looks at his dad. “We end it.”
“No, we can’t. This is a trap; the moment we step out of the RV, we are dead.”
“With one of us behind a wheel that’s five on sixteen,” Rick adds. “We’re gonna play it our way, how we want.”
Abraham slowly backs the RV up, and when he doesn't, one of the men starts firing into the sky, causing you to flinch, feeling as scared as you did when the men ambushed you, Daryl, Rosita, and Denise.
You start to feel yourself panic, but a hand reaches out and holds onto your wrist. Carl keeps hold of you until you’re far enough away that the gunshots start to fade into the distance.
—
“Wait, dad, something's not right.”
The saviors were now toying with your group and had set traps up blocking the different roads. They had a row of walkers chained together blocking the road, but it wasn’t until now that you noticed what Carl was so freaked out about.
“Oh my god, that’s Daryl’s.”
One of the walkers had a piece of Michonne attached to the side of its head; the others had clothing that belonged to other members of your group.
Rick goes to stab one of the walkers in the head, but men appear on either side of the road and begin firing at you.
“Everyone into the RV now!”
Carl and Sasha cover Rick while he breaks the blockade of walkers by cutting off their arms, making space for Abraham to drive through. Once you make it back onto the RV, you immediately go to Maggie’s side and notice how much worse she looks.
—
You place your hand on Maggie’s forehead. “She’s burning up.”
“She’s going to make it,” Carl says, trying to reassure you.
“The Saviors are messing with us for fun. They’ve made sure we know they have our people; they aren’t afraid of walkers, but yet they aren’t killing us.” Each time Abraham drove so far up another road, there would be another blockage preventing you from going any further. They even hung a man and set fire to one of the blockades in front of you. “These people aren’t scared of anything.”
Seeing Maggie start to stir, you take hold of her hand. “Hey, it’s fine. It’s going to be okay.”
“I heard gunshots.”
“It was the Saviors, but it’s fine now.”
—
The odds were staking up against you, but Eugene came through with a plan. The saviors were waiting to see the RV appearing on the road, so if you waited until nightfall, you would have a better chance of traveling on foot without being seen while he still drives the RV to make them think your group was still on the road.
“Maggie, we are going to get you to the doctor soon,” you smile. “You and baby will be okay.”
Her skin was pale and sweaty, and you didn’t actually believe what you were saying. You had a feeling something terrible was about to happen.
After making a stretcher out of what you could find in the RV, all of you aside from Eugene start to go through the woods. Maggie, being her stubborn self, insisted she walk to Hilltop, but it wasn’t going to happen. You and Carl take out the walkers that get too close while the remaining four people take a corner of the stretcher.
You’re unsure of how long you’ve been walking for when you notice something shining on the ground. “Wait up,” you whisper, bending down to inspect the familiar jewelry. You pick it up but then quickly toss it, feeling the wetness on it. “Rick, Rick.”
He looks over at you with a panicked look in his eyes. “What is it?”
“We need to go back.” You hold up your hand so he can see the blood on it. “Rosita’s earrings; she was wearing them when she left Alexandria—”
Before you can say anything else, you are cut off by multiple people whistling. This whole thing was a trap, even the way the jewelry was laid out was so easy to find. The Saviors just wanted to torment as many people as they could.
“Go! Go!”
You take off running through the woods until a bright light blinds you, and you’re suddenly surrounded by saviors and different vehicles, making it impossible to run away from them. All of them were whistling.
Holding your gun, you stand with your back to Maggie, prepared to shoot anyone who tries to hurt her.
The man called Simon, who Rick spoke with earlier, appears and points his gun at Carl, ordering all of you to hand over your weapons. This was the first time you’d ever seen Rick look terrified, and that’s how you knew you were screwed.
—
“Y/N,” Carl’s face turns pale as he notices the blood soaking through your shirt.
“I know.”
Between running and being forced down onto your knees by the saviors, the stitches from your stab wound had pulled, and your wound was now bleeding.
“Hey, hey,” Abraham gets your attention. “Show them no goddamn fear.”
You wanted to be brave like them, but you weren’t. You felt completely helpless while you watched them force Maggie onto her knees.
A van door is opened, and Michonne, Rosita, Glenn, and Daryl are dragged from it, then forced onto the ground beside the rest of you. Simon gleefully knocks on the RV door, “Alright, let’s meet the man.”
Through teary eyes, you meet Carl’s gaze. The two of you were on opposite ends of the line-up. You were now kneeling on the ground between Glenn and Rosita.
The door opens, and a dark-haired man with a wide grin walks out, “Pissing our pants yet?”
Satan in a Sunday hat.
“Boy, so I gave a feeling we’re getting close.” The man walks back and forth along the line, sizing everyone up while holding a wooden basketball bat that had barbed wire wrapped around it. “It’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Which one you pricks is the leader?”
“It’s this one,” Simon points to Rick. “He’s the guy.”
The man sighs, “Hi, you’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people. Not cool. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes.”
You silently start to pray again, taking hold of the small silver cross between your fingers.
“You see, stick to whatever you do; no matter what, you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is this: And it’s really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you very well may be, you can understand it. Are you ready? Here goes, pay attention.” He points his bat in Rick's face, “Give me your shit, or I will kill you. Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit; you give it to me. That’s your job.”
While Negan continues to taunt your group, your eyes move along every single person who you know is considered family. Everyone was crying and shaking aside from Abraham and Carl.
Negan keeps repeating that he wants half your group's supplies, but that wouldn’t be enough.
“So if someone knocks on your door, you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us, and we will knock it down. Understand?” Negan mockingly puts his hand up to his ear, “What, no answer?”
Negan reminds you of the governor.
“You don’t really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished, now did you?” Negan shakes his head. “I don’t wanna kill you people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me.”
Just like the governor wanted you all the live together at one point.
“You can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growing a garden, but you killed my people—a whole damn lot of them. More than I’m comfortable with. And for that—for that you’re going to pay.”
An eye for an eye.
“So now, I’m gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you.”
The crazy bastard introduces his baseball bat as Lucille, Negan is crazy. He stands in front of Abraham and seems amused when Abraham holds his gaze and rises up on his knees. Chucking Negan moves down the line and points at Carl, “You had one of our guns.”
Carl says nothing.
Negan crouches in front of him. “You got a lot of our guns. Shit, kid, lighten up. At least cry a little.”
He starts to walk back up the line and stops in front of Maggie. “Jesus, you look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery.”
The second Negan lifts the bat up, both you and Glenn yell for him to stop. Glenn tries to reach Maggie but is pinned down to the ground by a savior.
“Nope. Nope, get him back in line,” Negan says, sounding like an unimpressed parent. “Don’t any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. First ones free; it’s an emotional moment; I get it.”
You press your palm against your side in a poor attempt to stop it hurting so much, which Negan notices. He laughs, “Jesus Rick, you could have at least made it harder for me. Half your camp looks as if it’s dying off already.”
You want to cry but don’t allow yourself to, not anymore. Giving Negan the satisfaction would be more painful than the wound itself. He points to your side with his bad, “What the hell happened to you?”
“One of your men stabbed me.”
“One of my men stabbed you? A kid?” He kneels down with a smirk on his face. “So you know I have men that can and will fight for me. What does that tell you?”
“It tells me you have men who take the easy option and stab a little girl rather than actually putting up a real fight.”
His smile disappears. Negan just stares at you for a few moments until he suddenly stands and looks back over at Carl, who was glaring at him. “I’ve been trying to put two and two together, but I think I now get it; this is your little girlfriend.” He turns back to look at Rick, “And this must be your kid; you have a similar evil eye.”
“That’s enough!”
“Do not make me kill the little future serial killer; don’t make it easy on me. I gotta pick somebody, and everybody is at the table waiting for their order.”
Negan starts whistling while trying to decide who to kill.
#the walking dead#carl grimes/reader#carl grimes#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes fanfic#carl grimes x fem!reader#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x reader#Carl Grimes/you#carl grimes x fem reader#the walking dead fanfic#the walking dead x reader#teen spirit#teen spirit 6.07
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I’m normal (lie)
WHAT THE FUCK IM GOING CRAZY FROM THIS NEW EPISODE CELIA REALLY IS THE SAME CELIA CUZ WTF U MEAN YOURE SEARCHING FOR "MEAT AND BURIED" AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU RECOGNIZE CHESTER'S VOICE SHE REALLY IS THE SAME CELIA
AND ALSO THE DEAK WITH COLIN oh my guy knows whats up i respect him
also i just now realized. bouchard going for the main position. also theyre wealthy ? if i see lukas family mentioned here ill start a riot
AND WDYM U GOT AN EMAIL FROM "JOHN"??? WDYMM WDYMMM ARE THEY REALLY TRYING TO COMMUNICATE IM GOING CRAZY I ALMOST CRIED WHILE LISTENING
and also the way all the statements are a mix of all the fears... this one again !! all the weird people, giving weird ass things, THE BUILDING BEING SET ON FIRE !!! the suspicious guys in suit... literally things that somehow correlate to different things in tma... im going crazy
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𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗜𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲.
˚ ༘♡Carl Grimes x reader
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"there's only one thing more precious than our time and that's who we spend it on"
cw: teen angst, mention of canon-violence & death, reader is Negan's "kid", swearing, slightly angst inner monologue, etc. tropes:enemies to lovers, slow-burn, found family summary: you have been with the saviors for years, so how did one line-up, no, one boy, change the way you see this ruined world? a/n: the timeline of canon twd events is sorta out of order, it's been awhile since i watched s7 when daryl was held by negan so everything is completely by memory yet the point still stands. hopefully this makes sense. not proof-read.
You shouldn't be doing this. What you were doing went completely against everything you've been taught. Everything. It was early morning. Maybe around six or seven. You don't exactly know. The one thing you do know is that Negan won't be around for a few hours as he's got a ton of shit to handle. Even though it was early morning you had been up for hours thinking.
Thinking about your current life. Thinking about how those around you treat each other. So cruel. Thinking about the way Negan, your mentor, treats you. Thinking about those people at the most recent line-up a few weeks ago.
About how awful all the blood and sounds of muffled cries were. About how you sat there on the uncomfortable gravel road and did nothing but watch the way Negan treated them, the same as the other two groups. It was the same yet arguably worse than Hilltop or the Kingdom. At the time it happened it didn't really matter to you. "Typical fools who messed with the wrong people" You thought. You thought that because that's what you were believed to think. Everyone wants to believe that they're the good guy. We're not. Nobody really is. You remember glancing at the pale, long-haired teen and seeing how his un-intimidated look turned into the look of a scared teen. At that moment you realized that he was no different from you. You guys may have been on opposite sides but you were both on opposite sides of the same coin. You can't describe it, but seeing him in that vulnerable state for those few seconds did something to you. It's like reality just smacked the hell out of you. And then a few days later when Negan and the Saviors went to go claim their stuff you were face-to-face with that teen again. By then you had learned his name, Carl, he was the son of their leader. You could see the resemblance. Hell, you could see a whole lot more than just the family relation Carl had with Rick, you saw this young teenage boy as a person. Carl was a person. A human. He was a kid. Just. Like. Yourself. The feeling was insufferable. Seriously. It made you sick. Up until seeing Carl you hadn't seen another teenager your age. You felt as if you were alone in his cruel and unforgiving world. But you weren't. Not anymore. Sure, you two haven't spoken a single word to one another, (unless you count the time you explained to him what a "south-paw" was right before Negan almost made his own father cut his arm off), but you've watched how he interacted with his people. His family. Those were his people. The people he trusted the most.
And perhaps it was simply because you hadn't really seen how the Hilltop people lived, nor the Kingdom folks, but being exposed to this much genuine love made you feel... off. It made you feel weird. You hadn't seen people actually care for one another in years since your dad died. Your dad died towards the beginning of when the world went to shit. It was just you two, then your scared and small world became a little bigger once your dad met and started to work for Negan. Your dad died a few months in yet Negan kept you around. You were like, thirteen, so obviously he's not THAT cruel. He kept you under this wing, made sure you ate and got treated well. He was, in a weird way, your father. Eventually your world became even bigger once the small communities like Hilltop and the Kingdom got introduced. You thought this would be an opportunity for a bigger safe space, more faces, new people, new stories, etc. But it wasn't. It wasn't and after a few years of no social interaction with kids your own age it took a toll on you. Maybe it wouldn't have been so, so bad if Negan had been around more but he had "important" stuff to handle. He always did. You felt alone. This feeling of loneliness and the regret of hurting people was too much. You realized you didn't want people to fear you. Fear was not the way to get respect, respect had to be earned. Trust had to be earned. Relations were never going to form if you kept on like this. All of this is exactly why you are where you are currently. On the south side of the huge Sanctuary you quietly and quickly wandered the halls and searched for the holding cell. The cell that the man, Daryl, was currently held in. You had to ask one of Negan's "wives", Sherry, for some info. It took some time but Sherry had always been sweet to you so she eventually caved in. You eventually start to hear a faint sound of a somewhat familiar song, Easy Street, playing in this certain hallway. As you got closer so did the music. You eventually found the source of the sound, a small radio, sitting on the outside of a large metal door. You reached down and lowered the music a little in order to hear your own thoughts. Should I really do this? Maybe I shouldn't.. No, No, we're already here. Sherry already knows. I have to do this. I have to.
You slowly unlocked the door and pulled the chain off. You waited a few moments and glanced at the clock, 7:02. "Good. Right on time for the guards to be on the east side of the building." You think. Gosh, you hoped this worked. You slowly start to pull the heavy metal door open. It was pinch blackness in the small room. A little cold as well. Peeking inside you see the color of an orange shirt and pants in the corner. A man. Daryl. "Um... hi." You sound super unsure. Almost as if you stumbled into the wrong room. "Look, uh, you don't have a lot of time. You can go out the south side of the building, today's Thursday I think so the guards shouldn't be on this side. You should be able to leave.." You quickly explain.
He stares at you for a few moments then speaks quietly. "Yer his kid, huh?" You nod slowly. "Yeah, but uh, that's not important right now. You need to leave. And whoops, it's a shame someone forgot to lock this door.." I say nonchalantly. I leave the door cracked slightly and bend down to turn the music back up a little. Right before I do I glance at you, "Good luck, you're gonna need it."
Once you're sure the door won't close you back up and then quickly turn on your heel and book it down the hallway. The sound of the music covers up the sound of your loud leather books hitting the floor tiles. You actually did it. For real.
You didn't feel as terrified as you thought you would. No. You felt slightly proud..? Whatever this feeling was it felt good. You ran down the halls and eventually made it to a staircase. You stopped to catch your breath. You knew someone was going to get in trouble for your random act of kindness but you didn't care. Fuck it. Fuck it all. You were no longer a scared little kid. You knew right from wrong and everything the Saviors have been doing is wrong, so wrong. You were getting out of here. Today. Now. You were going to choose your own life. Be the person you wish to be. More importantly, you were going to see Carl again. See Carl and this time properly talk to him. Prove that you were nothing like your da- Negan. Nothing. You were a little nervous now that the adrenaline was slowing down but for the first time in years you felt a small sense of hope. You felt good. You finally got the courage to be your own person. You were your own person and you hope that maybe the people in Alexandria would understand that. You needed them too. Not just Carl but Rick, Michonne, Maggie, all of them. And you were going to prove it. If it was the last thing you do, that would be it. So, did you really uproot your life of safety and disobey your "people" in order to free some random guy? Yes. At least that's what you tried to convince yourself that was the reason. It was totally that and not because deep-down you secretly found the young teenage boy cute. Totally not. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
p.s: this is my first time writing something like this so hopefully it's good! may or may not make this isn't a multiple part series so yaaa idk
#carl grimes x reader#twd#the walking dead#carl grimes#rick grimes#oneshot#fluff#drabble#x reader#fem reader#fanfiction#y/n#twd x reader#x you fluff#x you#reader insert#self insert
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hiii! could you write something fluff with daryl and a Latina reader? they are in a established relationship and she always rumble things or talk to herself in her language and daryl really wanna know more about what she saying and also wanna know more her culture but is really shy to ask plss🥺💕
spanish for dummies ��� daryl dixon 🩰
in which daryl wants to learn more of your language, but he is far too shy to admit it
note: i made it a lil drabble because i don't know a lot of spanish, if i got anything wrong please correct me!
You and Daryl had made it exclusive very recently, so it was all very new to you. But the two of you were so infatuated with one another, that it made everyone sick. He'd always have an arm around you, or coming to find you at random points in the day. People would even see you whispering to each other and laughing. It was all very sweet. You'd been at Hilltop for a few days, helping Maggie with running things day to day, and beginning to build a few things. Of course, Daryl had accompanied you from Alexandria to Hilltop, and promised to stay with you.
“Y/N!” One of the Hilltop residents called out, and you’d turned to spot them waving you over. You had quickly separated from Daryl, who had his arm around your waist as you spoke about potentially making shields. Although he had followed you over.
You’d run over to see the new water system installed. You’d selected a group of people to start making an easier way to get water into the community, and to see the large basins of water finally come to life, you were amazed.
“Es asombrosa,” you whispered, mainly to yourself in bewilderment that the plan you’d made together worked. Things were really starting to come together now, and you couldn’t be happier. “Well done, guys.”
As you’d started to walk off, Daryl had caught up to you and smoothed his hand over his jaw. You’d come to notice it was a nervous tick of his. “What does that mean?”
“What does what mean?”
“Whatever you just said.”
“Oh, es asombrosa? It means it’s amazing. It’s a good thing.” You smiled, only now realising you’d have to translate some things that were natural to you.
Daryl just nodded, still curious about all your little phrases you’d come out with daily. You don’t really notice yourself doing it, but Daryl does.
Staying at Hilltop, you’d made some progress, you’d spent the whole of today tending to the crop just outside the walls. Whilst a small group had gone out on a run, Daryl included.
It wasn’t until you heard the roar of a motorcycle that you’d looked up to see your gorgeous man riding in, slowing as he approached the road next to you. His tough, brooding exterior shortly disappeared with a sweet smile, and you couldn’t help but throw your arms around his neck.
“Te extraño,” you sighed into his ear, breathing in the smell of his musk. You quickly translated for him, “I missed you.”
“Missed you too, sweetheart. Now let me take you home.” He cooed, taking your hand and helping you onto the back of his bike. To ride the extra few meters back into the gates.
That night, you and Daryl had settled into one of the rooms Maggie had allowed you to stay in whilst you were here. You’d crawled into bed long before Daryl did, as he was sitting through his backpack secretly.
“What you hiding in there?” You questioned, putting your book down and folding your arms. It was a playful prod but you weren’t expecting him to be so secretive.
“Nothin’.”
You huffed. “Come on, Dar. No secrets.”
“Just somethin’ I found today.” He admitted, throwing his backpack next to the bed.
“Ooh. Is it condoms?”
“No.”
“A stuffed animal?”
“Absolutely not.”
“A Halloween costume?”
“What? No.”
“Come on! Tell me!”
Daryl sat down next to you, an arm around you as you settled on his chest. “Fine”.
He reached into the backpack and pulled out a small book, and turned the title page towards you. Spanish for Dummies.
“Stop! Really? I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” You squealed, pressing kisses all over his cheek and jaw.
“Just wanna understand ya more.” Daryl reasoned, brushing hair from your face, “so ya don’t have to translate everythin’.”
#inbox 💌#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon#daryl dixon incorrect quotes#daryl dixon x reader#daryl fanfiction#daryl x female reader#daryl x reader#daryl x you#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon blurb#daryl dixon imagines#daryl dixon imagine#twd daryl#daryl imagines#daryl x y/n
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The Day Will Come
Summary: Going out to help bring Maggie to the hilltop ends up with you and the others on your knees infront of Negan, you’re one of his victims everyone thinks you’re dead until you wake up in hilltop
Daryl Dixon x f!reader
Warning: Gore
•Masterlist•
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Daryl had ran out with Glenn and Rosita going to try and stop him, I desperately wanted to go after him aswell but Maggie needed me, I’m her sister after all and I could tell she was extremely sick and if Glenn wasn’t here I needed to be
The rest of us loaded in the RV and were off the hilltop, I was sat in the back with Maggie holding her against me hoping it might help knowing I’m here to protect her
“You’ll be okay sis, we will get you there” he whispered as I ran my hand up and down her back
“I’m scared”
“I know……..” in all honesty I has just as scared, I didn’t wanna lose her or this baby
The RV slowed to a stop confusing us
“Damn it…….its the saviours” Rick groaned instructing Abraham to back up and take another road
This happened over and over again, there was no getting away from them, finally we had to go on foot, having Maggie on a makeshift bed so she didn’t have to walk
My heart was in my ears she was getting worse and my anxiety was at its peek, something was going to happen out here and it’s nothing good, the saviours are after us
As if on cue bright lights flickered on as whistles of the saviours surrounded us, placing us in a line up I was at the end next to Michonne, Maggie was shaking, everyone was scared that’s when they brought out Rosita, Glenn and……Daryl, he was in bad shape, covered in blood, they shoved him down next to me and it was hard not to reach out to him but I couldn’t take my eyes off him the tears streaming down my face, he was shaking obviously in pain
“Let’s bring out the big guy” and out came Negan, swinging around his bat embedded with barbed wire, after his whole speech about how it’s only right to take one of us out considering we killed a whole group of his and that’s when the counting started
“Enie” Carl
“Meenie” Sasha
“Miney” Rick
“Moe” Michonne
“Catch” Me
“A tiger” Daryl
“By” Glenn
“His toe” Rosita
“If” Abraham
“He hollers” Eugene
“Let him go” Aaron
He kept going picking us at random as he pointed his bat at us
“My mother” Maggie
“Told me” Carl
“To pick” Me
“The very” Rosita
“Best” Sasha
“One” Rick
“And you” Daryl
“Are” Glenn
He looked around at everyone of us until he stood infront of Abraham
“It” Abraham rose on his knees starring him down just like he always did
“Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we'll start, You can breathe, You can blink…..You can cry, Hell, you're all gonna be doing that”
His bat came down hard on Abraham splattering blood all over Michonne and Maggie
“Suck my nuts” Abraham slurred out
Negan kept going over and over and over until there was nothing left of his head except a mush of brain and skull, everyone was crying Sasha and Rosita losing someone they loved on another level
He stood infront of Rosita placing his bat full of blood and Abraham infront of her
“Oh dear were you two a thing…….take a look”
She refused obviously traumatized
“LOOK AT IT”
Daryl shot up punching Negan square in the face
“DARYL NO!” I screamed as the other men pinned him down next to me
“Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with... but I'm a man of my word, First impressions are important I need you to know me, So... back to it” his bat was up again coming down on Glenn, my heart stopped hearing the painful heartbroken scream come from Maggie, Glenn was like my brother
They were dead two of us were gone so quickly and painfully, I watched as Glenn was pulverized someone who was so dear to me, who was next the sight made me sick, I leaned forward throwing up all over the ground running down my legs
“Look at this….so weak, now I said y’all could cry and scream but now I didn’t say you could go and make a mess here, gotta pay for that” he said as he kneeled infront of me
“No please please no” I cried I couldn’t die not yet I still had so much left to do with my family with Daryl this couldn’t be the end
“Relax darling, you’re gonna get a different punishment
“Don’t ya touch her” Daryl growled from beside me
“Oh is she yours” all Daryl did was look between me and Negan with a scared look I’ve barely ever seen
“Even better” I felt hands on my shoulders dragging me forward infront of the group looking back to see other men holding Daryl down
“Please I’m sorry………I didn’t mean to” I whimpered unbelievably scared
He laughed pointing to the man behind me, the man held me down so I couldn’t move
“No darlin, this might hurt a bit, but it’s your own damn fault, SIMON GET THE MELON SCOOP”
Oh dear god he’s gonna take out my eyes, i tried to squirm away and break free but it was no use the guy was way too strong, Simon handed Negan the tool, obviously modified to be sharper
“LEAVE HER ALONE” Maggie screamed
I was facing the whole group now seeing all their panicked faces
I looked at Daryl seeing the fear and the struggle he was doing to get to me
“I love you Daryl, I love you Maggie”
Negan took the back of my in one hand as Simon use metal tools to hold open my left eye so there was no way I could stop this, the melon baller got closer and closer until I felt the edge of it at the side of my eye, it was quick and I let out the most blood curdling scream then everything felt numb, my ears ringing everyone infront of me a blur
“Dar……Daryl” I said then everything went black
Third POV
Negan held your eye laughing as he sees you out on the ground
“Such pretty eyes…….well eye, what a shame” he said as he threw your left eye at Daryl
Negan took Rick away only coming back when the sun was rising, your body still limp on the ground everyone hoping and praying you’d wake up
“We’re done here men” all the saviours got in their trucks and left
Daryl scrambled quickly over to your limp body lifting you into his lap
“Baby please, please come back” he cried looking at all the blood smeared down your face
“We gotta get Maggie and her to hilltop, maybe there’s still a chance” Sasha said as she helped Daryl lift you and lay you in the back set of a truck, your head still resting against his lap, Maggie in the passenger seat, and Sasha driving as the others headed back to Alexandria
They got to hilltop, the doctor checking on Maggie and helping her before he moved onto you
“I’m gonna have to clean out her socket, she’s still alive thankfully but if she wakes up she’s gonna have a hard time adjusting to this” he told Daryl
You got cleaned up and was laid on a spare bed in the main house, thankfully Jesus convinced Gregory to let her stay in the house along with Daryl
Y/ns POV
My head was pounding as I heard shuffling around me, I opened my eyes but something was wrong I could only see out of my right side, I looked around panicked when I saw Daryl sat on a chair next to my bed asleep
“Daryl” my throat was incredibly dry
His eyes shot open quickly coming to my side
“Here have some water” he said giving me a glass that was waiting on the night stand, I chugged it down
“Why can’t I see on my left side?” I asked scared
“Ya don’t remember?” I shook my head confused
“Negan took yer eye peach” everything came rushing back, Maggie sick, Abraham dying then Glenn
“Oh god” I laid back down feeling sick and dizzy
“Yer gonna be okay, I’m gonna help ya” he said as he brushed my hair back
“Don’t look at me” I said as I turned my back to him
“What’re ya talking ‘bout”
“I’m hideous Daryl I’m probably disfigured”
“Ya ain’t, yer still the woman I fell in love with, ain’t nothing gonna stop me from loving ya”
“I love you too D”
#twd fanfiction#daryl dixion imagine#twd daryl#daryl dixon#twd x reader#twd fluff#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon twd#daryl x reader#daryl imagines#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead daryl#daryl x female reader#daryl x y/n#daryl x you#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon fluff#twd#the walking dead series
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So to re clarify-
(And no I'm not trying to spell correctly)
(And this is just for fun)
(Also I'm so sick rn my head is about to explode)
Here at tma we have ;
Elias/ Jonah Magnus/ Bouchard - the stereotypical baddie from every animated kids cartoon
Gurtrude Robinson - somewhere in between "f- around and find out" and "screw it we'll just use dynamite"
Gerard Key - emo ghostie thats more normal than the 'norm'
Jon Sims - a "disgruntled-honestly-only-wanted-to-
reorganize-the-bloody-archives-is-that-
too-much-to-ask?!?" Workaholic
Tim stroker - didn't deserve his fate also 100% used his bedroom eyes to get info at some point
Sasha James - besides Martin she was the only one who could put up with Jon / also didn't deserve her fate
Martin Blackwood - bestie was down bad for his grouch of a boss/coworker also the only humanity left in that place
Bisera - here's where last names are gonna get iffy / good cop
Daisy - daughter of the hunt/ tried to execute Jon and pretty much K/O'd Mike Crew also she might be a werewolf
Micheal Shelly - a nervous bottle of energy that trusted too deeply, his revenge would be his end
Mike Crew - got a scar and gets offended at people about it
Peter Lucas - he sounds like any hr at any job when they are trying to kindly explain why brutal pipe murder is wrong but is drawn like a hundred year old sea captain (no I'm not over this)
Anabel Cane - the reason I hate spiders more than I do now
The cult of the undying light/ The people's church of the lightless flame - I've never been so confused on two seperate fronts but basically one of these is I think the desolation and the other is the dark and no I don't know which is which - they had a space mission that tormented two people
SO MANY NAMES
Yergain Lightner
Jergain Leigtner?
The old guy with the spooky books (nailed it) - he's been livin in the BASEMENT
Helen - see it's characters like hers that make me think I should relisten through 1-4 instead of s5 cause I don't remember where she came from,,, was she the one that was sleep deprived? Who knows! I certainly don't.
Nikola - she's fun, Russian, and mannequin, her pronouns are hell/no
Hilltop road - a street I shall never live on
Brennan and Hope - a service I will never deliver from
Also y'all remember that guy that was probably a gangster and wanted revenge on the other gangster so he went to the lady and told her he wanted it to be slow and painful but he didn't believe she had magical powers but when he went to kill the guy himself he found that he had some fingers missing and overall looked like hell and then started getting packages with his own body parts? Yea well I wanna know which fear helped in that....
There's also Mikale Silasa - y can't names be nice and easy
Michael Silasea
Something like that ^ -- genuinely cannot remember this guy
Was he the one that wrote those letters to Gertrude about the 15th fear that Martin had to read? Was he the antique dealer that seemed to come across all the cursed items? Was he that guy on the boat? The one that worked for the vast?????
Simon Fairchild - dunno. Just. Dunno.
I've got to be missing so many people and y e t.
#kitsunesakii#not dead yet#gertrude robinson#micheal shelley#gerard keay#Leigtner#elias bouchard#jonah magnus#jon sims#martin blackwood#sasha james#tim stoker#anabelle cane#nikolai lantsov#simon fairchild#peter lucas#mike crew#daisy#biserica#tma#the magnus archives#ranting#so many names
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Hii, Can I ask J(reverse 1999) x neutral reader?thank you (≧▽≦)
Sure, here’s some headcanon I think about him :3
Joe in a Relationship: Sweet & Fluffy Headcanons
Protector:
Despite his tough appearance and biker-boy vibe, Joe has a deeply protective streak. He always walks on the side of the road closest to traffic, instinctively steps between you and anything he perceives as a threat.
Will throw his jacket over your shoulders if it’s even a little chilly or when you riding with him.
Skilled with His Hands:
Joe’s background in forgery makes him good with his hands, and he loves using that skill to make things for you.
Whether it’s a custom piece of jewelry or a small figurine he molded from spare metal, every gift feels personal and unique.
Shy with Words:
( Mayyybe cuz in story he’s kind of a flirty type but also not)
Joe isn’t the type to spill his feelings in long speeches, but he has a way of letting you know how much you mean to him. A lingering look, a soft smile, or the way his fingers brush yours when he hands you something—it’s in the little things. (I would forgot to breath if he looks at me and smirk)
Classic Dates, 1990s Style:
Joe loves taking you on old-school dates. Think drives along the coast on his motorcycle, sharing milkshakes at a retro diner, or watching a movie at a drive-in theater. He’s not big on flashy displays, but his effort to create meaningful experiences is unmistakable.
(I’m Asian so I have to look up for all of this 😔)
Big Teddy Bear Energy:
While he’s rugged and confident outwardly, Joe is surprisingly soft in private. He’ll pull you into his lap when you’re both lounging around, rest his chin on your head, and hold you like he never wants to let go.
Burn Scars:
Though he usually flex his burn scars with casual confidence, telling you they’re his prides, there are moments when he feels vulnerable about it. If you kiss it without hesitation, it means the world to him, and he’ll quietly hold you a little tighter for it.
Music Bonding:
Joe has a surprisingly good ear for music and loves introducing you to 1990s rock and grunge bands he adores. Each song carefully chosen to reflect his feelings.
Cooking Surprise:
You wouldn’t expect it, but Joe’s not half-bad in the kitchen because he has a sister. He surprises you with hearty, comforting meals when you’ve had a tough day. Watching you enjoy his cooking makes him smile in that quiet, self-satisfied way.
Touch is His Love Language:
Joe shows affection through touch. Whether it’s a hand on the small of your back as he guides you, brushing your hair out of your face, or pulling you into a bear hug after a long day, he’s happiest when he can keep you close.
(PLEASE HEADLOCK ME JOEEE)
Subtle Vulnerability:
Joe’s a tough guy, but with you, he feels safe enough to let his guard down. On tough nights, he’ll admit his worries and let you soothe him. Though he rarely cries, if it happens, it’s in your arms, where he knows he’s truly understood.
(He almost did when heard abt Pauline situation 🥹)
Spontaneous Adventures:
Joe loves whisking you away on unplanned adventures. “Get on,” he’ll say, patting the back of his motorcycle. Whether it’s to watch the sunrise from a hilltop or grab ice cream at midnight, these moments feel carefree and magical.
Little Keepsakes:
Joe has a habit of keeping small things that remind him of you—a ticket stub from a movie you saw together, a pressed flower from a walk, or even a random trinket you once admired in passing. He treasures these like lucky charms.
Gentle Words:
The way he says your name—soft, deliberate, and full of affection—always makes your heart flutter.
Just imagine he groaning in bed EHEM WHO SAID THAT
(Nick have done a great job voicing him btw)
Acts of Service:
Joe is the type to fix things for you without you even asking. Leaky faucet? Fixed. Your bike tire flat? Already replaced. He’s not flashy about it but beams inwardly when you thank him.
Late-Night Confessions:
When the world quiets down and it’s just the two of you, Joe opens up in ways he doesn’t during the day. He’ll talk about his dreams, his fears, and how much he cares for you, his voice soft and steady as he rests his forehead against yours.
It’s sad that he didn’t came home….
😔
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sooooo. has anyone else like noticed that the dates in TMAGP 7 don't add up.
Look.
volunteer 1 arrives Nov 13, starts a 14-day probation on Nov 14. all good.
On November 26, volunteer 2 starts. Still okay.
But then, allegedly three (3) days later, she mentions the next 2 volunteers and the manager agrees to meet them.
By my math that makes the 29th of November.
But those two new volunteers start on the 28th of November.
The only way I see that this would make sense, is if you count the 26th as the 1st day, 27th as 2nd and then the 28th as the 3rd day, PLUS the mentioning of the next two volunteers, the agreeing to meet, the meeting and then them actually starting to work there would all still have to happen on that same day.
But all of this just goes against common sense. If I say 3 days later on the 26th (or 3 days after the 26th if you will), I don't mean the fucking 28th, I mean the damn 29th.
So. That being said--
The old game of is it on purpose, are they just fucking with us, or is it a genuine mistake.
But can it be a genuine mistake? How??! It's Hilltop. It would be so damn funny if they made a mistake with the dates around Hilltop again. They drop Hilltop on us, famous from TMA as the break in reality that happened because they genuinely fucked up the dates' consistency--and then accidentally mess up the dates. Could you believe how funny that would be.
But I cannot believe that. That has to be on purpose.
The question is just then, does it have a big or small narrative purpose? like, Hill Top Road break in reality significance. Or just the person being affected by what's happening so they misremember the dates (since they already cannot remember the names and all documentation vanished).
Or are they just fucking with us. Are they just like, you know what would be funny? Let's give them Hilltop and then inconsistent dates. Wouldn't that be funny.
Because it's working, this is driving me NUTS
#the magnus protocol#tmagp#tmagp spoilers#tmagp 7#magpod#hill top road#jonny if this is on purpose to mess with us I'm coming for you
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so I don’t have the knowledge of details that you have (complimentary) but is there anything in the computer code Colin looking into being written in German and Jonah Magnus’ buddy living in the Black Forest and finding that crypt that one time? Or is that Too far a reach?
vibrating at the speed of sound. so there are a couple of floating details around from the podcasts, the arg, and some promotional materials that may point back to germany having particular relevance. some of this is absolutely me going full pepe silvia, but there are enough threads here that I feel like it has to amount to Something.
so. germany.
archives 'verse:
-> point 1: johann von württemberg. while staying with his nephew in the schwartzwald in 1816, albrecht von closen finds an old mausoleum with the inscription "johann von württemberg" over the door, and it is guarded by a man with no eyes who nonetheless seems to be able to see. in a deep chamber well beneath the ground is johann's coffin, and the room is completely lined with books so old that they'd all rotted through and fused together, the marble shelves they're placed on having little carvings of open eyes all along them. the only two objects in a good state are an illuminated manuscript in arabic that had been kept apart from the rest of the books, and a gold coin with an engraving of a young man with flowing hair, the initials "JW," the year 1279, and the words "für die stille" (google translate tells me that’s “for the silence”). albrecht asks around for any information about johann because the name is unfamiliar despite his quite good knowledge about local history and nobles, and someone says they remember him being called "ulrich's bastard," likely referring to ulrich the i or ii, two counts of württemberg from the 1200s. with that information, in the present day jon is able to find some historical records that point to ulrich i having a son out of wedlock in 1255 who was rumored to keep the company of witches.
-> point 2: the von closens. it seems that a servant nicked the coin albrecht found before he could go home with it, and that was probably for the best for albrecht, because that servant Died Badly from what was ruled to be an animal attack. albrecht did take the book with him, however, and presumably went on to show it to jonah magnus. he then must have gone back for the rest of the rotten books at some point, though, because when doctor jonathan fanshawe visits his estate in 1831, albrecht has a full library of recently re-bound books that he tells fanshawe he got from the tomb, and owning them has done terrible beholding-esque things to him. fanshawe, in his capacity as a doctor, says they should return the books for albrecht's health, and they do so, but just as the last book is returned, albrecht dies, and fanshawe realizes that all the books were blank and finds out that jonah arranged to have them all swapped out by the book binder. when fanshawe performs an autopsy on albrecht's body, all of his insides are covered in eyes.
in his statement from 1816, albrecht says he and his wife carla have been unable to conceive, though in 1831 fanshawe mentions that all of albrecht's sons were away at school when he came to visit. not something that's impossible, they could have managed to have children shortly after 1816, but it does make me raise an eyebrow. magically blessed fertility? dimension shenanigans? fanshawe does mention a tree being burned on the von closen estate that feels remarkably similar to the tree on hilltop road.
anyway, wilhelm, albrecht's nephew, has some children, and the family stays in germany for about another century, but one branch eventually moves to england, and their descendants include mary and gerard keay. according to gerry, mary was big into mythologizing about the von closens and really tried to get him to continue her idea of a legacy for the family, but he thought most of what she said was made up.
protocol 'verse:
-> point 3: colin's comment about source code being written in german. nothing much to explain here, just that it's Weird that source code for some Weird bespoke program for the british civil service is written in german, right? Bit Odd.
-> point 4: the usenet forum. okay so I'm an avatar of the idiot and only read up about the arg after it was already over and don't know anything about code and whatnot, but as best as I can understand: on the OIAR's official website, if you try to submit a form, you get an error message, and if you look into the source code for the error then you find Some piece of code with an IP address shaped hole in it, and there's an IP address hidden in an OIAR advertising video, so you put that IP address into the code, do something else (???), and then find yourself at an old defunct usenet forum from the 90s/00s for people who left east germany.
(it is from here that I got too verbose for my own good, so the rest is under a cut)
notable things about the forum: most of it is pretty normal, and, naturally, it was pretty much all in german, massive shoutout to everyone who helped to translate all 21k words of it. there are threads about finding work in various countries, weird cultural idiosyncrasies, resources, reminiscing about berlin, yknow, normal stuff. the mod “SandmannS” (translates to exactly what it looks like) ran the forum with a bit of an iron fist, which I guess makes sense, it’s the kind of forum that attracted people who wanted to say some heinous stuff and he was really serious about not letting anyone solicit personal information, but he was also kind of overzealous about keeping threads on topic and locking any discussions that he thought were “pointless.” he was eventually strongarmed into opening a thread for cat pictures, and that’s as good an opening as any to talk about some of the Weird things about the forum.
one of the cat photos was posted in february 1994 and shows a cat standing in front of the thames, with what looks like the completed o2 arena in full view (great choice of a red flag landmark to include @ whoever chose it. nice big landmark that was called “the millennium dome” when it first opened, a handy reminder that it was made to celebrate the turn of the millennium and construction wouldn't even have started in 1994). several comments across the threads are dated as earlier than the comments they’re replying to, one person references the content of the phantom menace a few months before its release, and several comments were somehow made after the mod locked the forum in dec 2001/jan 2002.
and okay. the forum locking. I’m going to condense this to all hell because this is already [redacted] words long but basically, “einsamernarr” (translation: lonely fool) was an active user of the forum with a big conspiratorial streak, real paranoid about “the government” spying on him, always getting warnings and just dodging getting banned just before going too far, yknow, a Type of Guy. in december 2001, he mentions in a book rec thread that he was trolling through some databases and found a bunch of old records and he can’t tell if they’re fictional or not, but he’d like to share them if he can. about five days later, he starts posting in several threads that he did something really dumb, people are after him, the meetup they were planning is not safe and this forum is being watched, people should look for him if he doesn’t come back within a week, and he’ll try to leave some info behind for them just in case. a few days later, a couple of people post worried messages asking if anyone’s heard from einsamernarr and that they’ve been getting weird cryptic emails about an “institute” from him, and sandmanns says that he did everything he could, but he can’t keep doing this, and he closes the forum.
marina “avatar of the idiot” annabelle--cane showing my face here again, I don’t know how this next part happened, but it’s possible to retrieve the email einsamernarr sent, open it with a password found in colin’s code repository (that’s a whole ‘nother thing), and find inside: 1. some pictures of bonzobucks, 2. a weird pdf of an old german book on alchemy with a lot of symbols and codes in it, and 3. a spreadsheet of the names, ages, and test results of the hundreds of children the protocol 'verse magnus institute was performing psych studies on. which finally brings us to our next, much shorter section.
-> point 5: “gerard kaey” (sic). gerry’s name is on that spreadsheet, which I think is relevant to this conversation given mary’s obsession with the von closen legacy. archives ‘verse mary keay resented the magnus institute for what she felt it stood for comparison to what she felt she stood for; she saw jonah magnus as a thief who stole away her family’s honor, so what might be different about the protocol ‘verse situation? why would mary keay in this universe send her only heir to go get scrutinized by a bunch of self-important academics?
-> point 6: the berlin dead drop. more arg stuff, we’re getting into things that I’m sure probably have more to be said about them than I’m capable of saying, but from some clues in a picture of cookbooks that einsamermarr posted in the cat pictures thread of the usenet forum to annoy the mod, and a voicemail on the OIAR’s telephone line, people found out the date and location of the first irl arg event, and it was for somewhere in berlin. a newspaper covered in alchemical symbols was found in a bookshop, and from that people somehow derived coordinates, and those coordinates lead to the last irl event where a battered old video tape with a video of a creepy ritual was found (note: the tape was too badly damaged, so another copy of the video came from an arg affiliated tumblr account).
-> point 7: klaus.xls. from a floppy disk found in the second irl arg event, klaus.xls is a spreadsheet originally written in german with about 100 dates and times of potentially paranormal sightings. a lot of it is corrupted and unreadable, but there are columns for category, rank, “TSHU,” and notes. translated into english, notes sections that aren’t corrupted say things like “mr. b,” “war people,” “avoid, “unhappy child,” “ink,” “lady m,” “cats lol,” and “I hate witches.”
-> point 8: albertus magnus and the philosopher’s stone. right, this is where I go a bit off the rails, and credit to this post by @misfitmagpie for discovering some of this. first, nearly every official visual we’ve had for tmagp has been covered in alchemy symbols. they’re all over the logo, they’re all over the in-universe OIAR and magnus institute websites, they highlighted hints in the arg, they’re everywhere, and the end goal of alchemy was the pursuit of the mythical philosopher’s stone, a substance that could turn base metals into gold and produce an elixir for eternal life. the tmagp logo/the coat of arms for the OIAR is centered around an upside down alchemical symbol for the philosopher’s stone, a circle in a square in a triangle in a larger circle.
albertus magnus (aka saint albert the great) was a bavarian philosopher and scientist who did some writing on alchemy and has been widely rumored to secretly have been a master alchemist, mainly as a result of a lot of people attaching his name to writings about alchemy that he never touched. some have credited him as discovering the actual philosopher’s stone, and while he never made that claim in any way that survives, he did record that he’d witnessed seeing base metals be turned into gold. something of which to take note is that he didn’t go by the name “magnus” during his life, that was appended to him posthumously, it’s just another way of calling him “the great” with a fancy latin word, but it does kind of remind me of that edmond “reimer” halley -> maxwell rayner thing from mag 140. if you discovered the elixir of life and became immortal, you would probably need to nab a new identity at some point, and if people have already been nicknaming you “albert the great,” well…
anyway, the thing that’s really cemented his potential relevance in my mind is his birth and death dates: c. 1200-1280, lining up perfectly with the time period of johann von württemberg (thought we’d moved on from him, didn’t you?). I know magnus timelines are notoriously a bit unruly, especially the further back into the past we get, but it’s scratching at my brain. besides that, I think it would be a really cool move if the magnus this podcast is named for was a completely different person than the magnus the last podcast was named for.
if albertus magnus isn’t directly relevant then I’ve got another theory about the title that I’ll be posting in a hot minute, but it’s not germany related and this ask is already long enough.
just, to sum up, a lot of protocol content so far has been germany-adjacent, and even if nothing more comes of it I think there are a lot of interesting threads here to speculate about.
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