#see you in 50 years my comrade

[wearysauce]

ultimately, we're all just brains swimming in soup

[keruimi]

Her Radiance

Pairing: Giyu Tomioka x reader

Warning: Angst, spoilers I think (Not sure)

Note: Hi everyone! Before all of this, we have reached 50 followers (which is already a lot for me) it meant the world to me. These days, I have been thinking of what to post and since I want to cry, I read the manga again that gave me this idea. There's one request in my inbox for almost two months requesting for a Giyu fluff but I'm having a hard time fulfilling it so I chose Giyu for this oneshot to make it up for them. I hope all of you enjoy it and comment your thoughts about it! (I enjoy reading them)

_____________________________

It has been six years since I met her. A woman whose grace and beauty match up with the swans.

A woman who became the Light Hashira. A title that has been given to her by the people who started to love her.

An unknown woman who just started to light up someone's world like a mother. She, whose status is like an older sibling in the corp.

A woman who made my eyes wander around my surroundings, just to at least catch a glimpse of her comforting beauty.

A person who became my weakness.

It all started when I reached the age of fifteen. Someone who asks for shelter in the pouring rain. A simple request that started everything.

When I first met her, her eyes held an exhausted gaze. A woman I thought wouldn't want to continue to live. Her silent silhoutte around the Ubuyashiki manor didn't move my heart at all.

That's why I thought I wouldn't fall in love with her.

Until she started to change like something came up to her. She started to become someone's comfort. Ranging from the lowest status on the corps till the highest.

Her once dull presence became something so warm and comforting

That I can't get enough of it.

I can't even count how many kakushis and slayers grew up under her wing. Until she became respected by everybody.

Until she got the title of the Light Hashira.

And one thing led to another. Thoughts about her keep appearing out of nowhere.

Until my mind completely has been filled with thoughts about her.

Yet I knew, that she would not see me more than a comrade of hers.

We have no interactions. But my eyes would always be on her form.

Her form where the smile on her lips never leaves. An eye which is filled with happiness.

Anyone would think that she is a fragile person because of her kindness.

But I think that nothing can break a woman who's already broken.

Because I knew, she also had a past like the rest of us. No one ever arrived at the corps with someone they love.

They always arrive alone. And their loved one would follow suit.

The thoughts on her mind remain hidden until she gets drunk after a celebration.

It was the first interaction I ever had with the woman I secretly admire.

"I was a product of my parents' first marriage. We were happy until their divorce occurred in my life"

I heard her mumbling behind me as I kept giving her a ride on my back to the way to her manor.

"They started to have their own family and I got completely left out. Like I never existed in their life" she slurred out but I can fear the emptiness of her tone.

"But my brother..."

"He became the second parent to me" I started to feel liquid on my shoulders making me halt on my steps.

"Until he left this world without me. To every kid or person I met, to the people I became nice with, I never forgot to mention him" she stuttered out as she began to chuckle.

"Like telling them that the person they love, grew up in the care of someone loveable like him." She reaches out her hands to the clear night sky like she is trying to reach the moon.

"I became someone like him to continue his footsteps that became the light in my own world. He is the sole reason why I chose to continue"

"That's why... I will not hesitate on dying, even if I'm scared of it" she rested her head back into my shoulder as I felt how my eyes started to gloss.

"Because I knew he was waiting for me"

And I confirmed that night. No one should love them because they won't be able to learn how to love you back.

Because they have already fulfilled their own goals.

I knew that, but I can't help myself fall in love more. I want to love her, the same way she loves others.

So she will feel again the emotion that she said to have lightened her world.

Yet, I can't fulfill that one simple goal.

When the fight with the demons started. I keep wishing, that the Gods can kill me just for her stead. Just for her to continue living even if she wants to reach her end.

I fought my eyes to keep open and my body to move when I saw her handling Muzan alone when we were thrown to the building.

I need to get up

Because if I don't, I will completely lose her from my grasp.

Get up

Like how I lose the people I love.

But my body won't follow my mind. I watched her fight without faltering, even with many injuries that began to be put in her body.

Get up

And my vision finally turned black. The moment I opened it again, I focused on fighting that my mind completely forgot about her in that one moment.

That one moment its a lot of time that made her slowly slip away from me.

And I'm not aware of it.

Fighting the demon version of Tanjiro made me wear out too.

And after that, I wanted to rest without a doubt.

Until she entered my mind again

"Y/n-san! Quick! Heal her!" I look back faster than I have ever done and saw her being surrounded by a lot of kakushi.

My feet quickly moved on their own accord but it lost its strength when I was close to her.

But I didn't manage to touch her.

"Giyu-san!"

Y/n...

I forced myself to crawl towards her and saw her eyes looking at the morning sky above us.

I quickly reached for her hand and felt her slow pulse that made tears fall from my eyes.

"Y/n, don't leave please" I found myself whispering to her as a Kakushi helped me get closer to her while others tried their best to heal her.

"Giyu" I heard her speak weakly that made me raise my head from the dirt to look at her.

"You were so lonely when I first met you..."

"It reminded me how the world ruined who I am. How my destiny tortured me" she stuttered out as she began to gasp heavy breaths that made me tighten my grasp on her hand.

"We were both lonely people that chose different paths"

"You reminded me who I was back then. You were the reason why I felt like I started to heal the wounds I obtained from those painful battles I fought by myself." The tears that have been built up from her eyes started to escape making me rest my head on her arm to stop myself from crying.

"Thank you, because you made me feel I am not alone. Made me feel like I am no different from others"

"I thought I could heal you... But I couldn't..."

I can feel her slowly losing her breath that made a sob escape my lips.

"That's why..."

"I'm sorry"

I heard the other people around me hold back their own sobs as someone's hand gently closed her eyes that made me break down crying.

As I finally felt her last heartbeat.

[darling-heffron]

Sorry all my wifi had been acting up and then I got busy doing other things, then poof, Saturday came and went! So sorry this is late but I hope the chapter makes up for it. Also I got my nails done and didn't think of the implications to my typing lmao! ✨

Taglist: @mellow-human , @malarkgirlypop , @next-autopsy

Chapter Seven: And then there were Two

Sam’s POV: 

Walking was the easy part of Sam’s journey, the hard part was avoiding everyone else. Especially the humans, she didn’t need to meet anymore people like the family she had only buried days ago. 

There could be no guilt clouding her thoughts during these times, she needed to be focussed not sentimental. The last thing she needed was a friend. 

Her army comrades often called Sam the lone wolf of the pack, often adjacent from the other troops who were bonding and making lasting friendships. Sam enjoyed her solitude and didn’t have the patience for stupid people, she had other activities that filled her boredom. 

Fighting mainly, as it was a good way to release her stress. She often found that after having a rough day, letting out her pent up emotions on the punching bag felt good. Sam never felt the need to vent to her “friends”, her fists did all the talking she needed.  

If she didn’t feel like fighting, books had the same effect as talking to people. Except she didn’t have to say anything back to them. She didn’t enjoy fictional novels about romance and friendship and adventure. The blonde preferred the cold hard facts of history, she would learn from everyone else's mistakes and not make them herself. 

Unfortunately sometimes Sam would have to deal with people during her job. On her tours in Afghanistan she was paired with the most annoying girl in the squad. 

A lucky dip that was not so lucky. 

Her partner drove her mad almost every single day, trying to befriend the tall woman. Sam was not having it, she didn’t need nor want a friend. The soldier was a petite brunette that was only a couple of years younger, but for some reason she was always so happy. Always a pep to her step and a song in her heart, the girl was joyful on crack. 

Even in her demise she still somehow had a smile on her face and was optimistic about her doomed fate. 

The girl, Abby, had died only days before they were set to depart back home. She had offered to do the final sweep of the night for Sam, which she had been scheduled to complete. On her route back she had misstepped, accidentally setting off an IED that in turn took her life not hours later. 

Lying on the street with her limbs scattered about, she bled out slowly and painfully. But still the young girl managed to smile and laugh, making a joke. Abby had laid in Sam’s lap as she lost her blood and quickly turned cold. The last thing she had said was, “I’m glad it was me and not you.” 

Abby had died later that night in hospital from her wounds. Her death still haunted the angry blonde. 

Her depressing thoughts were interrupted by boisterous noise. Sam looked up with disgust etched into her face. These were the stupid fuckers she was talking about. 

Even from a distance she could see their unkempt oily hair and dirty clothes. They smiled at each other while they joked, some misogynistic comment falling from the shorter ones mouth as the other two chortled together. 

“Ugh, gross.” She muttered out loud. Sam didn’t enjoy people, but men were her least favourite. It may have been her army upbringing but all the men she knew were cunts, especially her father who seemed to be the worst one of all. 

The only reason there were other people here was because she had made it to Albany. Walking all day for two days she had made good time from Pittsfield. But even though the city offered food and other resources, it attracted everything else along with it. Just like the group of men who stood only 50 feet away, laughing amongst themselves. 

Somehow luck didn’t seem to be in favour of the young woman; she accidentally kicked an empty can across the street as she tried to evade the group. 

“Fuck me.” Sam cursed under her breath. She watched the men swivel their heads around to investigate the noise. Sam ducked quickly trying to hide behind the abandoned car she was standing near but she knew she had been spotted. 

“Hey pretty lady!” One of the men cooed. Sam rolled her eyes so hard she was concerned they were going to get stuck in the back of her head. 

“We see you blondie, come out!” The other greasy man joined in. 

Sam silently screamed in her head, she was not in the mood for people. Drawing in a deep breath she stood. She cracked her neck as she walked out from behind the vehicle. 

The men started to walk briskly towards her. Her fingers flexed at her side, itching to latch around the weapon on her hip. But she stood still, a relaxed posture and bitchy face, well her normal face but still, she looked menacing. 

“Quite a scowl you got blondie.” The tallest man of the group smirked at her. 

Her face didn’t change even with the comment. Sam didn’t speak, she didn’t want to seem like she was trying to make excuses. Plus men dug themselves into deeper holes in silence than in conversation. She would bait them. 

“Not much of a talker.” The short thinning haired man stepped closer, even though he was still a good foot away she could smell him from here. 

“Yeah but she is a looker, hey Jeremy.” The snivelly looking man egged on the tall one, Jeremy, elbowing him in the side.  

“You sure are pretty.” Jeremy licked his lips. Sam’s disgust was audible at the action. 

The young woman flicked her eyes around the group. They didn’t seem to be all that well equipped, noting the baseball bat the short chubby man held, and the grimey machete on the rodent looking man’s belt. Jeremy seemed to be the only one with a gun, tucked into the front of his waistband. Sam scoffed that was only good for one thing, getting his dick shot off.   

“I think she’s scared of us.” Weasel man continued. He looked like the fucking jester of the group, though he didn’t seem all that funny. 

“You don’t have to be afraid, we’re really nice.” The chubby man had the audacity to reach out to try and touch Sam’s arm. 

Her reflexes were faster. Sam’s hand shot out from her side and gripped the man’s limb like a vice. 

That set the group on edge, the other two sprung back, hands clasping around their own weapons. 

“I’m not afraid of you horrible fuck-eyed wank cloths.” Sam growled, squeezing the man's hand even harder. He let out a whimper of pain and tried to wiggle free, but Sam’s hold didn’t budge. 

“Leave me the fuck alone, before I rip of every single one of your ballsacks off and feed it to the rabid motherfuckers while you watch.” The man guffawed at her statement, her words were clearly not enough for the men, she would have to show them. 

“Oh you need proof. Well baldly, how many fingers you want broken?” Sam sneered at the man, his face bright red with rage and pain. 

“Now you’re quiet?” Sam wrenched the thinned haired man’s finger backwards extending them towards his back. “That means I get to choose.” She whispered before completely twisting the chubby man’s hand completely backwards until there was a satisfying crunch. 

Baldy howled in pain as he clutched at his now broken wrist. It hung limply from the joint, the men who had watched the whole interaction, now began to rile up. 

“What the fuck is your problem blondie?” Jesterville Jones piped up, his buck teeth exposed as he hopped around like the rabbit he was.     

“I chose wrist.” Sam shrugged, seemed like he wasn’t paying attention, or was an idiot. Most likely an idiot. 

“We didn’t do anything to you.” Jeremy whined as if his mum had just taken away his PS5 privileges. 

“You approached me, that was your first mistake. Then you called me blondie, you half chewed pencil looking fuck. And this literal easy bake oven tried to touch me. So if I counted correctly, which he can’t.” Sam pointed to weasel face. “That would make three things you did to me.” 

“Now do you all want limp wrists, you slimy turd canoes?” Sam threatened the gaggle of fucking morons. “Or would you like to leave with the little dignity you have still intact?” 

As soon as she finished her sentence the men fled. Tails between their legs like the small chihuahuas they were.  

Mars POV: 

Getting to Albany was simple. Marleen packed up and left as the sun was rising, unwilling to be near that house any longer. She followed along the highway, using road signs as her guide. 

The houses began getting closer together until she found herself at the city's edge. The closer she got the more her nerves started to scramble. Mars spotted several small groups and lone rabids and did everything she could to avoid them, turning a three hour journey into five. 

Marleen had never been to Albany before, but she could imagine what it was like; the roads bustling with vehicles, people everywhere, everything teaming with life. 

And now, it was barren. Abandoned. 

If she had to guess she would say there were live humans in this vast city somewhere but nowhere that she could see. 

That could be a good thing though. At least that’s what Denver always said. And just like that she was tearing up once again- how many tears did she have left? Surely her eyes would run dry at some point? 

Shaking her head, Mars headed into the eerie ghost town. 

She didn’t get very far before noticing undead stumbling in her direction. Shit. There were too many for her to stay and fight, she had no choice but to flee. They hadn’t seen her yet, giving her the advantage of stealth. 

As quietly as she could, Mars turned and treaded down a side street, off the main road and out of the zombies' sight. 

This repeated a few times; Marleen would come across a number of rabids and sneak away unseen onto a new path, slowly making her way through the maze of a city. 

Her luck was seemingly up. Avoiding certain death had never been easier for the young blonde.  

Until it wasn’t.

Mars rounded a corner, making her way down a narrow road- a glorified alleyway. And she did so without checking to see if the way was clear, her first mistake. 

Her second mistake was immediately dropping her only weapon the instant she bumped into something. 

Marleen had walked straight into a solid body and squealed. It took her a moment to realise that whatever she had walked into could be a human; like her or an undead and she had yet to find out which.

Her yelp was mixed with a low voice, arms wrapped around her body and held her close, it felt all too familiar. Mars cried out and struggled against the unknown person until she heard a distinct voice- the undead can't speak.  

Her head flicked upwards, revealing her captor as a living. In fact, there were three living men standing in front of her. 

All caution was thrown to the wind, she hadn’t seen real people since she and Denver had been separated two nights prior, and she found she was missing the social interaction. Being able to talk to someone who was capable of talking back, who didn’t have blood covering every inch of them- that was priceless to Mars. 

“Hey, shhh, It's okay.” The man holding on to her spoke, his grasp on her had stabilised the both of them, keeping the pair upright. Now that they were in no danger of falling, he released his grip on her and held up his hands in mock surrender.

From where she stood, she had a second to give them a once over and take in their appearances. They looked like they’d been through hell. Dirty and greasy and covered in filth. 

Something that stuck out to her was the shortest one favoured his left hand, like it was hurt. She would bring that up at some point, make sure chubby hadn't been bitten by a rabid.

She had two voices telling her two very different things right now and wasn’t sure what to do. 

One said: Absolutely do not trust these guys, turn and leave right now, you don’t know these strangers.

While the other said: Maybe they could help you? It’s tough being out here all alone, having friends is never a bad thing. Talk to them, ask if they can help you get to Illinois. 

“Uh-Hello?” Was the greeting she settled on, this seemed to please them as all three grinned at her. It should have been a good sign, the smiles; but for some reason it unnerved her. 

“Hello beautiful.” The tallest man, her ‘saviour’ spoke out, “you out here all alone?” Mars nodded slowly, still not totally convinced she could trust these guys. 

“Well what would a pretty girl like you be doing out here all by herself?” One of the others spoke up, he had buck teeth that resembled a mouse or a rat. All three men still smiled at her waiting for her answer. 

“I-I’m trying to get to Illinois.”

“Illinois, eh?” The rat man echoed the words as he stepped closer to her, “We can help ya get to Illinois.” 

“You can?” Mars felt a smile creep onto her face. She held hope that these men would be kind and helpful, regardless of their appearance. Don't judge a book by its cover and all that.

“Sure.” The tallest, who seemed to be their leader, smirked. 

“Yeah, we can help you.” Rat-man laughed as he nudged his friend's arm with his elbow, like they were sharing a joke- one that Mars was not privy to. 

It was then that Mars noticed the machete in the rat's grip, that paired with her dropped knife gave her chills- goosebumps rippled over her body. 

“You just have to do a little something for us first….” His voice gave Mars the heebie jeebies and she began to rethink her openness to the trio- maybe she should have been more skeptical of the strangers. 

“Scratch our backs, we scratch yours, blondie.” Rat-man reached out his hand and stroked Marleen’s cheek, her body instinctively flinched back, trying to get out of his reach.

“Really?” A louder voice sounded from behind the group of men. The trio seemed to recognise the person who had spoken, stilling in their actions and slowly turning. 

Between the gap of the men, Mars could see a tall, lean woman with a menacing stance. Her glare made the men shiver and Marleen found that she too was intimidated by this lady. 

Sam’s POV: 

Sam had tried her best to avoid the group after they had retreated. She continued on her search for food and water, but unfortunately before rounding a corner she had heard the slimy idiots talking amongst themselves. 

However what piqued her interest was a soft feminine voice that spoke back. Sam had stepped into the alley just as weasel face had said, “Scratch our backs, we scratch yours, blondie.” 

That pissed off the tall woman. For one, they had gone from one woman to the next, and secondly they didn’t even have the creativity to think of any better lines. 

“Wow! I thought you guys were fucking stupid, but this just really proves my point!” Sam gave her best cheerful sarcastic tone. 

“You seriously can’t think of any better material than Blondie?” She peered over their shoulders, finding a young petite woman backed into a corner by the group. The woman’s face said it all, please help me.  

A sigh left Sam’s lips, she was not in the mood for playing hero, but also the young girl, not even woman, looked so helpless it felt like a crime to leave. 

She cast her glare towards michelin man, who cowered under her hateful stare. He didn’t give her a second glance before darting off and ditching his so-called friends. 

“Dylan what the fuck dude!” Jeremy called out after fatso. Damn she had never seen someone of that girth run so fast. 

“Roly-poly has the right idea. Why don’t the rest of you scram and leave Bambi alone.” Sam looked over to the young lady, aptly named for her big doe eyes and deer in the headlights stare. 

“We aren’t scared of you, blondie.” Jeremy snarled. 

“Which one are you talking to, cause remember we are both ‘Blondie’ according to you.” Sam pointed out that the one name that had given each of the girls now didn’t work in the situation. 

“I’m talking to you-” He paused for a moment, pointing in her direction. “Angry blondie.” 

“Look at you using adjectives. Kind of embarrassing it took you that long to think of one, and angry at that.” Sam grimaced at the fucking idiot sandwich stood before her. 

“Can we be done now, I’m so fucking bored of this conversation?” Sam glanced down at her watch, she literally had better things to be doing than standing here wasting her breath on these white-trash shart hounds. 

“Well- uh- you.” The weasel man stuttered over his words. 

“You-uh-uh-um.” Sam mocked them. “Spit it out, speech impediment.”

“Right, that's it!” Inflatable balloon man bellowed in the least intimidating voice he could manage. In a quick motion he whipped out his gun from the front of his pants. Sam shied away worried he was going to whip out something else at the same time. 

“I don’t need to see all that.” Sam gestured to the man’s crotch. The young woman during the chaos, had bent down and grabbed the knife that had laid on the floor just in front of her. Sam watched her stand again, clutching the weapon to her chest. 

Jeremy surged forward with his gun, he flailed it around, it seemed as if he was unsure if he wanted to shoot Sam or hit her with it. It didn’t matter, the tall woman had disarmed him in seconds. 

Now she had the man by his neck and his gun in her grasp. Jeremy was pinned to her chest as he stared out at his mate who looked shocked but was still fixed in his position, not helping his buddy. 

Sam pressed the barrel of the man’s gun to his temple. Everyone froze, collectively holding their breaths. Weasel man’s face had drained of blood and he looked sickly pale. Bambi continued to wear her brown doe eyed stare, her mouth hanging slightly agape, Sam was unsure if this was due to shock or awe. 

“Alright lady!” Rodent man held out his hands showing his surrender. “We’ll leave you alone, just let us go!” The man pleaded. 

“Yeah just let us leave.” Jeremy sobbed like a young child who had lost their mummy in the supermarket. 

Sam brought the butt of the gun down hard into the side of Jeremy’s head, the man yelped out in pain as she pushed him away from her and he stumbled to the floor. Rodent man collected his friend from the floor, and urged him to leave. 

“My gun.” Jeremy held out his hand for his weapon. 

“It’s mine now. Fuck off.” Sam dismissed the command. She watched in amusement as the pair fled together, moving so fast they were falling over each other in panic. 

Turning on her heel she walked the way she had come from back out onto the street. 

Mars POV:

“Wait!” Marleen called out to her retreating saviour, “where are you going?” Her feet began following the mysterious woman- who completely ignored her. Her pace quickened, only slowing when she came side by side with the fiery lady. 

“Hey! I asked where you’re going.” Her statement came out whiny and she reached for the other woman's forearm. The moment her fingertips touched their target, the stranger sprung into action. She halted her steps and raised a closed fist so quickly that Mars barely had time to register what was happening.

“Woah-wait wait wait- it’s me! It’s me!” The shorter woman released her grip and raised her hands to cover her face, dropping her knife yet again. 

It clattered to the floor as both women watched.

“Who?”

“Me, it’s me?” Mars peered up at the taller blonde, her voice squeaked out from her defensive position, “From just now… you know, with those guys- Bambi! I’m Bambi…remember?” 

Recognition crosses over her face, “Oh. Right.” The woman lowered her fist, “You dropped your knife.” Her parting words as she turned swiftly and continued in the same direction. 

Mars huffed, bending over to pick up the weapon and then straightening to run after the other blonde. 

“You didn't answer my question.” Her words were spoken in between breaths, “Where are we going?” 

That seemed to gain the attention of her ruthless heroine, making her freeze in place once more. 

“We?” Her eyebrows raised in surprise, “WE aren’t going anywhere.” She gestured between the two of them with her finger. 

“But,” Marleen’s face scrunched in confusion, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout, “You just saved me?” 

“And?” 

Mars had no reply. It seemed logical to her that they buddy up, everyone needs friends and Mars could surely use someone as capable as her. 

The lean girl, hearing no reply from the smaller party continued on her journey. Once again, leaving ‘Bambi’ behind. 

And just like before, Mars chased after her, this time calling out “Can’t I come with you? I’ll be so quiet you won’t even know I’m there!” 

“No, I don’t pick up stragglers.” The woman’s husky voice sounded as she kept walking away from the young girl. 

“So why did you save me? Why not just let me die?” Marleen argued, genuinely curious. 

“I-”

“So you clearly have a conscience, or else you would’ve watched me be attacked by those men.” She spoke her thoughts aloud as they popped into her head, no filter and not even waiting to hear her responses. 

“Look-”

“Or you just didn’t want to watch it, so now you’re just leaving me to die when you don’t have to see.” 

“Jesus-”

“Cause leaving me now is like second hand murder. You know I’m not going to get very far by myself, but you’re still leaving.”

“Alright, alright! Fine! Christ, you made your point, I got it!” The lady finally got her words in before the young girl interrupted her once again. The taller of the two swung around to gesture for the persistent girl to cease her incessant yapping, “I will walk you to the next town over and then as soon, and I mean as soon as I find another group or person to take you, you are not my problem anymore. Understand?”

Mars let a cheesy smile break onto her face as she literally jumped for joy. “Deal!” Extending her pinky finger out to seal the promise the taller woman had just made. 

“I’m not making a pinky promise.” The lady shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Still Mars held out her hand, smiling widely, tipping her head to encourage the standoffish girl to accept her outstretched pinky. 

“No! I’m not.” The girl doubled down. But Mars ever so vigorously stood her ground, until the other blonde sighed and finally did as Marleen had asked. She reached out her hand quickly interlinking her pinky finger with the younger girl. The tall blonde snatched her hand away after sealing their deal. 

“Oh my God, are you normally this fucking infuriating?” 

“It depends who you ask.” Said with a shrug of her shoulders and a smirk on her face. “I’m Marleen, by the way.” 

“I didn’t ask.”

“You can call me Mars though.” Her cheery voice continued, “Sooo- what’s your name?” She was met with silence. “Okay, fine. Stay mysterious. I’ll just call yooou- Jessica?”

“No.” Her saviour deadpanned. 

“Okay, not Jessica…. Georgia?” Hope seeped into her words as she gently elbowed her taller companion in an attempt to gain her favour. 

“Please stop.” 

“You could just tell me your name? I’d stop if I knew what to call you- maybe Lauren?” 

Realising she wouldn’t shut her mouth until she got what she wanted, the calmer of the pair offered a solution, “If I tell you my name, will you be quiet?” 

“Yes.” Her reply was instantaneous and full of excitement. 

“It’s Sam.” She sighed out exasperatedly. 

“Sam!” Mars grinned, barely one second of silence passed before she was speaking once again, “Sam Sam Sam… is that short for Samantha?” 

“Shut. Up!” 

AHHHHHHHHHH our girls finally met oml oml, so excited for this duo you have no idea! But ah, Sam doesn't seem all the keen on it ahaha sorry girl you got lumped with a whole ball of sunshine. Let me know if you also love these girlies together as much as I do.

Esra ✨

[trans-axolotl]

I went to the anarchist/abolitionist healthcare conference this weekend, and it was really a beautiful experience that I don't even have words for. Being able to share resources, knowledge, dreams, and joy together with other people invested in this work was so special, and I gained a ton of hope by seeing the many ways that other people are actively engaged in resisting these fucked up systems and building care into our communities. I gave a presentation about psych abolition, talked about resistance within the psych ward, and got a standing ovation from a room filled with 50 people, many of whom were mental health professionals looking to build solidarity. I legitimately almost cried because of being to have that experience with my mad comrades. I met so many beautiful crazy people who intimately understand what it means to survive as a mad person, and just gained so much knowledge from people actively putting their abolitionist values into practice. I want to share a few of my favorite resources that I became aware of at this conference, and I'll make another post later with some of my key takeaways.

Mutual Aid Self/Social Therapy: This is a support framework designed by one of my friends that provides an intentional structure for providing therapetuic support within communities, especially organizing communities where there's a lot of burnout. It offers so many resources for skills training to allow anyone, whether you have a background in emotional support or not, to set this up within your community. The framework is purposefully not hierarchial or transactional, and allows for actually addressing people's material conditions as well as providing space for emotional processing.

Of Unsound Mind: Incredible archive and research on psychiatric history. Mostly focused around America, but also has some info on other countries. The author of the website will be coming out with a book later this year, which I think is mostly going to be about the Trieste, Basaglia, and that history of psych resistance in Italy.

Power makes us Sick: Collective that focuses on autonomous healthcare and emotional support, especially in terms of autonomous trans healthcare. Has some fabulous zines and resources.

A Corpse among Corpses: Incredible documentary about asylum graveyards in the Midwest and the trade of graverobbing for experimentation in medical schools, and how this connects to settler colonialism, slavery, eugenics, and modern gentrification. Really do want to emphasize a trigger warning for genocide, eugenics, medical violence, self harm, antiblack racism, instituionalization, and lots of discussion of death. I talked a lot with the filmmakers, and really appreciated their care and intent in making this film as a way of bearing witness rather than exploiting atrocity in the name of art, but do want to be very clear that this film is incredibly heavy to watch and might be something worth doing with other people. It was deeply impactful for me, and made me tear up many times.

The Living Museum: Through transforming the old Creedmoor hospital grounds into a musuem and workspace for current patients to showcase their art, this space celebrates psychiatric resistance, transformation, struggle, and joy. I really want to go visit and share in that space, as it seems just so fucking cool. It seems like you might need to contact directly to schedule a visit.

Cahoots Crisis Response Model: This is one model for crisi intervention teams that respond instead of police. They are not perfect, still have some enagement with police, but are an interesting example of how to try to implement these types of programs. Since theyv'e been around for 25 years, they have a lot of knoweldeg and could be a good first group to reach out to if you're trying to create this in your community.

Overall this whole weekend was a beautiful example of how to put our values into practice, and really just wanted to share these projects with you all!

[proudchildlesscatlady]

I imagine what the ending of the Legendborn Cycle Series would be... especially Bree's well deserved happy ending. Please know that this ending is completely made up. I hope you enjoy.

Bree and her allies won the war/Camlann but not without many losses and sacrifices. The shadowborn are defeated for once and for all meaning humanity is safe forever. The remaining Legendborn lose their powers and the cycle ends as it is no longer needed. The Order has also been successfully dismantle. Most importantly, the curse that has plague Bree's bloodline for generations has finally ended.

Bree looks towards the sunset and fells hope for the first time after so long. Still, she grieves for the lost lives.

25 year time skip

Bree is a 42 almost 43 year old accomplished, well respected, and awarded winning scientist. She is known as Dr. Matthews

She is happily married for 20 years with four daughters:

1. Faye Eileen (age 18)

2. Nicole Marie (age 14)

3. Selene Esmee (age 13)

4. Vera Anne (age 8)

The identity of Bree's husband is left a mystery as he could be Nick, Sel, or somebody else (please don't hate me 😭).

Bree is having a mother- daughter date with her eldest daughter as she will leave to go to college in a few days. After, Bree takes her daughter to a memorial site of her fallen comrades, allies, and friends who fought with her. Both women place flowers in each grave. Bree talks fondly about them and thanks them for their sacrifice. Bree has a tradition of coming to the memorial site once a year to pay her respects.

As they were about to leave, Alice and her wife Sarah (Sar) walks by and the four women have a hug fest. Alice hugs Bree's daughter tightly and couldn't believe her niece is all grown up 🥹

After, Bree and her daughter go back home. Bree is greeted by her husband and other daughters. Vera, Bree's youngest, ask her mama to read her a bedtime story. Bree retells her story (a cutesy, child friendly version) to Vera until she falls asleep. Bree kisses her daughter's forehead and leaves her room.

50+ time skip

Bree, age 100, lays comfortably on her bed as the sun sets.

Someone walks in her room. That someone is Bree's great- granddaughter named Amelia (the granddaughter of Bree's youngest daughter). Amelia is 16 years old and attends UNC's early college program. She also heavily resembles Bree in her youth. The very image of her.

Amelia sits down next to Bree and holds her hand. Another person walks in the room and that someone is Amelia's mother (Bree's granddaughter). Her name is Natalie (age 42) and next to her is Vera (age 65). All three women sit near Bree and listen to Amelia retell Bree's story. A story passed down through generations.

While telling the story, Amelia fondly mentions Bree's knight in shining armor which may or may not be her great- grandfather.

After Amelia has finished telling the story, they all said good night to Bree. Natalie kisses her grandma on the forehead. They leave Bree's room.

Bree smiles and thinks back to her life then closes her eyes.

She dies peacefully in her sleep.

Bree survived by her four daughters, many grandchildren, and several great-grandchildren. Her beloved husband died a few years prior. They were married for 70+ years.

The End

**Notes: I'm fully aware of the abatement but I pretend that it either doesn't exist or the cycle ending means no abatement. I want Bree to have a happy and fulfilling ending because she deserves it. My own idea of a happy ending is Bree living to age 100 and getting to see her children and grandchildren grow up which is something the women before her were deprived of.

I originally planned Bree's husband to be Nick (no hate towards Selwyn). But there is a slim possibility that neither Nick and Sel survived towards the end and the husband can be another person Bree meets later on. I want to leave Bree's husband as an open interpretation as to please (almost) everyone in the fandom.

If I had the talent and the patience then I would definitely write a fanfic of this post but I would make Nick the husband of Bree.

[gloriousbouquetlove]

The Phantom General and The Dawn Knight

This crazy idea came to mind.

In the first years that humans arrived in the Briar Kingdom, a young Lilia Vanrouge (about 200 years old) meets a young healer.

At first Lilia is on alert for this human, but as time goes by she becomes captivated by the woman's beauty and kindness.

And the young woman is not far behind either, although Lilia at first had a cold behavior towards her, she could see that deep down she was a determined being with the goal of becoming stronger to protect her comrades.

Lilia shows strange behavior, she waits impatiently for the training to end, her mind is in the clouds and she smiles from time to time. This was obviously noticed by her best friends Meleanor and Levan, and Lilia had no choice but to confess.

Levan on the one hand is happy that Lilia is in love with someone (even if it's a human), and after learning this Levan strives to find a way to make a peace treaty with the humans (but the senate flatly refuses). to this idea).

While with Meleanor she doesn't know what to think, on the one hand, she is happy that Lilia found love (since she was worried that Lilia would die alone like an abandoned dog), but on the other hand, the person Lilia fell in love with is a HUMAN, a relationship between a fairy and a human for several and very obvious reasons could never work, but here is Lilia the fairy with the most rational sense that is known to anyone and does not care about this. But who is she to judge, after all when a fairy falls in love nothing stops him (she knows this very well after courting Levan for 50 years).

But unfortunately an event occurred that would change everything.

The young healer discovered that the silver owls were kidnapping the forest fairies to sell them and in turn that they were making weapons with the magic stones they found in the caves to attack the dark fairies.

The young woman did not sit idly by, she asked her bird friends to warn Lilia, and in the meantime she, along with other humans who were against the actions of the silver owls, would save the fairies.

But when Lilia and her troops arrived everything was chaos, there were fairies flying for their lives while the silver owls had already eliminated all the traitors one by one.

Despite having their magical weapons, the silver owls were defeated by the dark fairies. Without any other options, they retreated, but they swore that this would not end here and they were going to seek revenge.

After the fight Lilia looked for her beloved only to find a horrible scene, that sweet woman with eyes bright like dawn and lips of a tender pink color is replaced by a corpse that has lost the light from its eyes and its lips stained with its same red blood. And Lilia simply can't stand the pain and breaks down, he cries and screams to whoever is in heaven why this happened, why an innocent woman had to suffer such a fate.

When Meleanor finds out what happened she can't believe it, these damn humans threatening her kingdom out of greed and willing to kill their own species to achieve it, this simply makes her sick.

And Levan is not far behind, he knows that not all humans are evil, but this act they just committed is horrible.

Both are together with Lilia to console him for his loss.

100 years later, the dark fairies and the silver owls were in the middle of a battle, both sides were equal and it seemed that there would be no end to it, until their champions came face to face. On one side was General Lilia Vanrouge and on the other was the Knight of Dawn. Their battle was brutal, both possessed extraordinary strength and abilities, so powerful was their fight that their masks flew off, revealing their faces.

Lilia was paralyzed, there in front of him was she, the woman he once loved, golden hair like the sun, pink lips like a tender rose, and those beautiful eyes that shine like an aurora. Lilia could only whisper: “Leia.”

The knight of dawn looked surprised:

“How…how do you know my name?”

And before both could say anything else, their troops called them, they both made their troops withdraw since on both sides everyone was very badly wounded.

With Lilia, he couldn't believe it, she was there, his beloved had returned, but apparently fate likes to play with him, since she returned, but as his greatest enemy.

Meanwhile with the knight of the dawn, or rather with Leia, she was deep in thought.

“Who was that fairy?”

How did he know my name?

Why didn't he attack me?

So many thoughts passed through his mind, but the one that was most in his head was:

“He looked like the man I saw… no… that I met in my dreams.”

.......................................................................

I really don't know how I had this idea, I was just sitting there and thought: "what if the knight of the dawn is a woman and marries Lilia and they have Silver."

I would like to think that in this way many things would change, Meleanor and Levan would still be alive and would be with Malleus, Silver would not have to feel like garbage knowing that his biological father was the one who murdered the mother of Malleus, the knight of the dawn (Leia) wouldn't have to do such a horrible act and could be with his son, and Lilia wouldn't have to lose anyone she loves and could live a happy life with his wife and son.

This idea is crazy, but I like it (or maybe it's a way to deal with the big hit of depression that chapter 7 and what's missing from it) generated in me.

I'm sorry if it's not completely understood, English is not my first language.

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Tuvok

By Ames

It’s been a little while since we highlighted a Vulcan on the A Star to Steer Her By Character Spotlight Series. Like Spock, our pointy-eared Voyager crew member Tuvok has his best moments when he is making the audience consider just how human these green-blooded hobgoblins can be. Tuvok benefits from his pure logic so frequently on the show that he is usually the voice of reason in a quadrant full of chaos. But Tim Russ is just so good at the Vulcan nuance that he’s never just a walking rulebook but a living person with flaws and [repressed] emotions.

So join us in a game of kal-toh, which could take years to master, as we shine our spotlight on the Voyager chief of security and one of our favorite Vulcans of the franchise! You can check out all of Tuvok’s logical (and illogical) actions below and/or meditate with us on this week’s podcast episode (telepath over to 1:11:50). Live long and prosper!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

Do not underestimate your own potential Tuvok’s role as mentor to other crew members is frequently nice to see during their long journey. He has the experience, temperament, and patience to guide his comrades through turmoil, especially someone like Kes who has fledgling mental powers. Watching Tuvok meditate with our Ocampan friend in episodes like “Cold Fire” and “The Gift” is very nice to see in helping ground characters.

If you can’t control the violence, the violence controls you Not only is it a genuine joy to watch Tim Russ acting his ass off with the sensational Brad Dourif in “Meld,” but the insight into Tuvok’s motives is also fascinating. In this episode and in “Basics,” he’s trying to rehabilitate Suder’s psychotic mind, which is commendable, but also to understand it in the first place, something that someone like my favorite Voyager character isn’t used to.

Logic in the court Let’s also give Tuvok some credit for agreeing to represent Quinn in “Death Wish” even though he doesn’t agree with the Q’s desire to use the ruling to end his own life. But Tuvok treats the matter fairly and with an open mind, which is only the logical thing to do. Quinn helps him to understand his side of the argument as best he can and Tuvok respects him throughout.

I won’t be afraid, not if you’re with me Just because “Innocence” is a generally terrible episode with awful child actors, really obnoxious aliens, and a deplorable twist, doesn’t mean Tuvok isn’t still great in it. He really is! He’s so patient with the horrible children that he should get an award, and it’s so sweet when he agrees to sit with Tressa when her weird backwards life reaches its natural end.

Computer, Vulcan blend, hot Janice Rand can shut her mouth when she tries to insinuate that young Tuvok is brown nosing when he brings Sulu his tea on the Excelsior in “Flashback.” It’s just plain adorable and his rapport with Captain Sulu is just a delight to watch. Sure, he also insists that Sulu not go save Kirk, but that’s exactly what you’d expect a Vulcan to do.

I’ve seen the way you isolate yourself even in a crowd of people Tuvok’s conversation with Morena about isolation in “Alter Ego” reveals a lot about his character as someone who represses the loneliness he feels while a quadrant away from his family. He connects with Morena in a way no one else on the crew could because they don’t let themselves get close to people. So when he agrees to teach Kim to play kal-toh, it’s so lovely.

8 Simple Rules for Dating my Ocampan Protege A lot of other crew members treat Kes’s dating a new boy in “Darkling” with some condescension. It’s an episode of people treating Kes like a child (which I’ll remind you: she is not) who can’t make her own decisions, but then you’ve got Tuvok being a straight up pal. He expresses to Zahir without judgment that all he wants is Kes’s safety, and boyface gets it.

Seska’s not the only one who knows how to cause a phaser malfunction Turns out, our buddy Tuvok writes a damn good holonovel when we come across his Maquis uprising program in “Worst Case Scenario.” And when the thing goes wrong, as it is wont to do, Tuvok is there to outsmart holo-Seska (the most scheming Seska of them all!) with an overloading phase rifle, like a badass. That’s sure one way to get around writer’s block.

Let’s just watch Event Horizon When Torres is about to get lobotomized in “Random Thoughts” because the Mari’s definition of justice is wildly different from ours, Tuvok leads the investigation and uncovers a black market for violent thoughts. And if that isn’t cool enough on its own, he mind melds with Guill, who can’t even come close to handling that much madness. That man is no Lon Suder, that’s for sure.

I am sorry. I cannot return your affection. Speaking of mind melds! Tuvok melds a lot in this show, and one beautiful example comes in “Gravity.” Noss is crushing on Tuvok hard, and who can blame her? It’s all one-sided though, so in the end, Tuvok melds with her to show her how he really feels. It’s a more intimate act for Tuvok than anything else he could have done, and it’s touching that he shares himself with her.

You’re Neelix. I’m safe with you. The development of the Tuvok-Neelix relationship is one of the best things about Voyager, full stop. And the best representation of this is pretty much everything in “Riddles.” Not only do we get some stunning work from Tim Russ, but we see Tuvok without the emotional clamps on, coming to terms with his situation and choosing to save the ship. Cue the waterworks.

Vulcans do not dance Which leads me directly into our final beautiful Tuvok moment. Because we here at SSHB are big Neelix fans, we welled up at Neelix’s farewell in “Homestead” when Tuvok performs his Vulcan interpretation of a dance for him. It’s no Macarena or anything, but it encapsulates perfectly what these two, who were such an odd couple all show, really mean to each other.

—

Worst moments

My logic was not in error, but I was There’s something almost fascinating about “Prime Factors,” in that the Prime Directive shoe is on the other foot for a change. This is probably what the Bajorans felt when the Federation let Cardassia walk all over them! But Tuvok won’t have any of it! Prime Directive be damned, he’s going to steal the Sikarian spatial trajector against Janeway’s orders.

On your marks, get set, no Tuvok, despite many decades of living with non-Vulcans, apparently has no idea how to treat them. We see in “Learning Curve” that Tuvok is tasked with getting some ex-Maquis crew members in line, and his first impulse is to make them run a 10K with the gravity turned up. Weird flex. And let the Bajoran kid wear his earring, dude! We went over this already with Riker!

I have not always been particularly partial to your methods either What a weird and convoluted episode “Twisted” is, but perhaps that’s its point. What seems more off the mark is that suddenly there’s this polite rivalry for command between Tuvok and Chakotay while Janeway is out of commission. It just seems to come out of nowhere, much like the bickering between Spock and McCoy that we complained about in their character spotlights.

A non-emotional response would be more useful While we did like how Tuvok takes Kes under his wing in episodes like “Cold Fire,” he also can’t help himself in judging her expression of emotions all the time during her training. He constantly sasses her for giggling or feeling overwhelmed or otherwise not displaying perfect Vulcan logic. Uh, Tuvok, did you notice that she’s not a Vulcan? No wonder he gets his head boiled.

In a way, a mind meld is almost an act of violence, isn’t it? While I can fawn over the excellent work in “Meld,” how fixated Tuvok gets on violence is also severely screwed up. His Vulcan logic won’t let him accept that a psycho like Suder doesn’t need a reason to kill, and Tuvok goes way too far with it. And I won’t let him off the hook here: creating a holoprogram to kill Neelix is not okay no matter how you feel about the character.

Neelix in the foyer with the lead pipe The whole saboteur Jonas plot arc in season two was a convoluted mess. You’d think someone as logical as Tuvok would have figured that out, but no. In “Investigations,” he comes up with an even more convoluted plan to get Tom captured by Kazon, endangering the Talaxian ship he was on, and not clueing in people like Chakotay what was going on. And I still don’t know. What WAS going on??

Mom and Dad aren’t home – let’s have a Vidiian party! We joked a lot during The Original Series that whenever Spock was left in charge, things went wrong. Well the same thing happens when this Vulcan is left in charge when Janeway and Chakotay have to be abandoned on a planet in “Resolutions” and the crew is ready to mutiny right away until Tuvok gives in and calls the Vidiians: the one thing Janeway told him not to do.

This has pon too farr! I will never not rag on pon farr as a plot point because it’s too damn squicky. When TOS did it, it was one thing, but when Torres is suffering from pon farr and Tuvok insists that Paris have non consensual sex with her in “Blood Fever,” it’s not okay. Why the writers had to keep sweeping sexual assault under the rug for the sake of Vulcan bullshit is entirely beyond me.

There is little point in furthering this discussion Even the other people on the space elevator in “Rise” can see it: the whole episode long, Tuvok is dismissive and condescending towards Neelix until the Talaxian finally snaps. If we commended Tuvok for developing his relationship with Neelix throughout Voyager earlier, this was the nadir that required them to work towards a bond of respect later on in the series.

A deadly case of writer’s block While it was really fun playing Tuvok’s Maquis program in “Worst Case Scenario,” you’ve got to admit that Seska’s hologram nearly taking over the ship was all Tuvok’s fault. It seems strange for him to not finish the security training program once he’d started it, or at least to delete it from the computer when he accepted that the Maquis weren’t going to be threats.

Big Brother is watching, and mind reading It was nice of Tuvok to save Torres in “Random Thoughts,” but until it was going to affect his crew, Tuvok practically salivates over the concept of the Mari’s thought police. We couldn’t have been the only ones reading some sexual energy between him and Nimira, the Chief Examiner of the Mari Constabulary, right? Stop it, Tuvok. Only Odo may be a fascist on this show.

The call is coming from inside the Vulcan When Tuvok is put in charge of the investigation to determine who’s been attacking former Maquis members in “Repression,” it turns out he’s actually hunting himself! Sure, he’s being mentally hijacked a little bit, but dude, if you’re going to go full fascist in your investigation and inspect the crew’s mail for bugs, don’t forget to inspect yours too! What is with these fascists?

—

Weird how almost all of those moments were heavily represented in seasons two and three? I wonder what happened in season four that sidelined Tuvok so much? We may never know. Let’s see how other characters fare as they progress through the series: come back next week to find out! You can also keep listening to our Enterprise watchalong on SoundCloud or wherever you podcast, mindmeld with us over on Facebook and Twitter, and have a logical day!

[friendly-books]

Dresden files Battle Ground live blog pt. 1

Yes part 1. The reaction is 35 pages long and has 11125

Dresden files Battle Ground live blog 

“Apocalypses always kick off at the witching hour.” pg. 1 What a way to start the book

“How bad does it have to be for you not to be making jokes?” pg. 2 Very bad

“after some good-looking Tuatha snuck in and knocked Ethniu up.” pg. 5 Bi Harry 50

“A colossal squid. A kraken.” pg. 10 Oh no

“On the other tentacle” pg. 14 Ha

“I soul gazed a kraken.” pg. 17 That has some worrying implications with that the kraken has a soul when Tara didn’t have one

“The not-squid, the kraken, was afraid.” pg. 19 Cool

“Not one quip about hentai, Dresden.” pg. 26 Ha

“I glanced back and forth between them.

I hate it when I miss things.” pg. 26 So do I what’s going on with Lara and Molly?

“Murphy gripped the edges of the shopping cart with both hands as I ran, pushing it down the middle of the street. “If you tell anyone about this, Dresden,” she said, “I will murder you slowly. With dental implements.”

I leaned down and kissed her hair. “Now, now. If you’re good, we can get you a piece of candy at checkout.”

“Goddammit Dresden” pg. 29 Ha

Mac’s pub!

Mac!

“Hurt yourself” pg. 33 Oh is Mac some kind of angle?

“Kick. Her. Ass.” pg. 36 Yep

The alphas!

Oh Gary is here

Ugh Rudolph

“Rudolph, handsome as ever” pg. 44 Bi Harry 51

Another soul gaze

What did you see Bradley?

“Rudolph was a coward.” pg. 47 Yep

Not liking Rudolph lack of gun control

“And your tigger discipline sucks.” pg. 52 The wince I made

“Don’t come near me,” he said. He jerked his jaw at my bike. “Now go do what you have to do. And stay away from me.” pg. 52 Poor Harry

“I watched the good-looking man leave” pg. 52 Bi Harry 52

“I rolled up to Castle Marcone at half past midnight.” pg. 53 I love that Harry calls it castle Marcone

Ugh Carlos I’m still mad

“He was a good-looking man,” pg. 56 Bi Harry 53

“Well. Maybe you should . . . at some point . . . consider treating me like a friend.” pg. 58 Trust goes both ways Carlos. Have you given Harry any reason to trust you?

“But Ramirez was also popular among the establishment. Granted, I wasn’t entirely bereft of allies there, but increasingly as time had gone on, Carlos had come to represent a new ideal for the new generation of Wardens-more compassionate than those who had come before, quicker to investigate and slower to conclude, but every bit as dedicated to the Laws of Magic and the security of the White Council of Wizardry.” pg. 59 Yep and Harry’s doing the right thing by not taking to the cops magic or otherwise. ACAB

Oh Ebenezar is here

Listen-to-Winds and Martha Liberty

“So as long as she thinks she’s invincible, she is?” pg. 63 So the plan is to make her think she’s not invincible

“If you wished an instrument of careful precision and restraint,” she said, “you chose the wrong champion, Blackstaff,” pg. 65 Yep

“When horrors begin to tear apart the people of this city,” Mab said calmly, “when its women and children cry out for help, I should find amusement in seeing you attempt to restrain him.” pg. 66 Yep

“The Sidhe warrior, tall and lean and good-looking in that wickedly youthful, long-haired way” pg. 68 Bi Harry 54

“Ebenezar snorted out a quick laugh m. “Not everybody, boy. Not even close.” He looked around the rooftop and nodded. “But I’ll allow as it’s been a while since there was a dustup quite this big.” pg. 72 What do you mean not everyone? Who else?

Where’s Marcone?

Erlking and River Shoulders

“he had an asymmetric, scarred face that somehow managed to be roguishly handsome.” pg. 73 Bi Harry 55

“Margaret’s child? Much is explained.” pg. 73 Ha

“We have lunch once a year.” pg. So cool that Odin and Uriel have lunch

“I’m going to need pizza.” pg. 79 Toot-toot and the guard!

“You weren’t working for Maeve at all, were you?” pg. 83 Really?

Toot-toot!

“Lacuna adores me!” Toot shrilled

“We are comrades in arms,” Lacuna said. “Then I will kill you”

“It is love!” Toot insisted.

“When you’re dead,” Lacuna said, “I get your teeth.”

Toot beamed broadly. “See? She loves me for me!” pg. 88 Ha

“And now,” I concluded, “she’s coming here to kill all the people.”

“Uh-huh,” Toot said, nodding, listening, completely supportive.

“And me,” I said.

“Uh-huh,” Toot said brightly, waiting.

“And all the pizza shops,” I said

“Oh no, oh no, oh no!” pg. 90 Ha

“WE MUST FIGHT!” pg. 90 Ha

“They all stared at me.” pg. 92 I love that

“Things were going to change.” pg. 98 Yep Can’t wait to see the unmasqued world and all the changes it brings

“Focus, Harry.

Save the city.

Stop the Titan.

Don’t mess it up.” pg. 99 You can do it Harry

“Do you remember the hardest lesson of power?”

“Knowing when not to use it?”

“Aye,” pg. 100 Interesting

“Not without Molly,” I said.” pg. 101 Yep and would Molly want to leave if given the chance?

“Sir,” I said, “how well does history suggest that leashes will work out with me? For anyone at all?” pg. 102 Not well at all

“Or a worn out farmer who cares too much about you.” pg. 102 Aw

Ivy

“and  abruptly left me alone in the locker bay with Gentleman John Marcone.” pg. 106 Marcone’s here! Yay! :)

“The robber baron of Chicago has undressed down to his undershirt and slacks and was currently fastening the fittings on a vest of overlapping scales of some advanced-looking material that covered his torso closely enough to be custom fit. I’d seen him out of a suit only once before, and he’d been in rough shape at the time. Despite his age, Marcone was built like a light-heavyweight boxer. The muscles moving under his forearms were made of lean steel cable. As I watched, he shrugged into his suit shirt and began buttoning up.” pg. 107  Bi Harry 56 and what a moment. No Harry you’ve seen him out of his suit and not in some kind of body armor twice. Once in casual wear in Death Mask and once when he was naked in Small Favor. You’d think Harry would remember that. I certainly remember it. And funny that it’s the one that Marcone’s naked that Harry brings up. ;) Harry you’re in your underwear and you’re staring at Marcone for quite a while now.

AFHKYGFRHGGSYUAF

AAAAHHHH!!!!

OW

I’ve fallen and can’t get up

Help

I’m struggling

I was warned against sitting precariously and I didn’t listen

What did I just read?

My heart

Is Jim trying to kill me?

I think I’m gonna to stay here on the floor. I’m safer this way

I need a minute

“Did you forget the next step in the dressing process, Dresden?” he asked, without looking up at me. “Or is this some sort of awkward sexual reconnaissance?” pg. 102 This line nearly killed me. And I love it so much! I love that Marcone calls Harry out on his staring.

“With massive dignity, I put on my pants one leg at a time. “Locker room talk? Really?”

“It seemed something you would be capable of appreciating.” I snorted and kept getting dressed. Marcone put on a gun belt and hung a pistol under each arm.” pg. 107 What dignity? I’m appreciative please say more.

“I saw you earlier,” I said. “Facing Ethniu.”

He eyed me without actually looking at me.

The words tasted bitter, and tainted in my mouth, but I said, “That took guts.”

His mouth twisted at one corner. “Ouch. That must have hurt.”

I nodded and spat into a trash can. “No idea.” pg. 107 Ha and come on Harry Marcone was cool you can admit it.

“Marcone took up his suit jacket and shrugged into it. He adjusted it until the cloth fell without revealing the guns. “Do you know the difference between courage and foolhardiness, Dresden?”

“Any insurance adjuster would say no.” pg. 107 Ha

“He waved a hand at my banter, as thought that was all the acknowledgement it deserved. “Hindsight,” he said. “Until the extended consequences of any action are known, it is both courageous and foolish. And neither.”

“Well,” I said, “tonight you earned yourself a Schrodinger’s Medal, I guess.”

He seemed to muse on that for a moment. “Yes,” he said, fastening one button. “I suppose I did.” He paused and glanced at me. “I notice you kept quiet.”

“Maybe I’m finally learning my lesson.”

“That’s not it.” Marcone tilted his head, frowning. “The only way that would have happened is, frankly . . . if you had not been present.”

Okay, well. Sometimes even the bad guys are right, more or less. I kept my mouth shut and finished dressed.” pg. 108 Your both still dressing. I love that Marcone knows Harry so well. Come on Marcone the banter you love the banter. I love the banter.

“Dresden,” Marcone said, “while I have enjoyed working with your Queen, and find her business practices admirable, do not presume any sort of personal amity between us. At all.”

“Oh. I don’t.”

“Excellent,” Marcone said. “Then I will not need to explain how severely I will be obliged to react to you should you engage in any of your . . . typical shenanigans in violation of my territory or my sovereign rights under the Accords.”

“Really?” I said. “Right now, you’re comparing testosterone size?”

“I have no intention of dying tonight, Dresden,” Marcone said. “Nor of losing what I have fought to claim. I am a survivor. As, improbably, are you.” He nodded to me politely and spoke in a very quiet, reasonable tone that was all the more chilling for the absolute granite rumbling beneath the surface. “I only wish you to be aware that I mean to continue as I have begun. After tonight, I will still be here-and you, by God, will show respect.”

“Or what?” I asked him, lightly.

Marcone’s stare was not a matter for lightness. “I will pursue my rights under Mab’s Accords. And she will not protect you.” pg. 109 But Harry shenanigans. Yeah Marcone threatened Harry about acting up in Death Mask but that’s all he’s done. I love that Marcone acknowledged that Harry is also a survivor. I highly doubt Harry will show Marcone respect.

“I felt a chill go through my guts, way down low. Marcone had me dead to rights there. I had violated his territory under the Accords, more than once. He’d just never wanted to shove it in the face of the White Council, who would have had no interest in bowing to a lesser power. Offhand, I wasn’t sure what the penalty would be for that kind of lawbreaking, but Mab’s idea of justice wasn’t exactly a progressive one. More to the point, her idea of justice was damned near an absolute: If I had broken her laws, I would deserve to be punished under them. My status as the Winter Knight would not matter to her in the least, expect that she might be that much more annoyed before she executed me.” pg. 109 Marcone does have you dead to rights. I wonder what he’s going to do about it.

“Dammit, Thomas. Why in the hell do you get me into messes like this?” pg. 109 Ha

“As long as we’re being honest,” I said, “you should probably know that I still think you’re a prick. I still think you’re responsible for a lot of good people getting hurt. And I’m going to tear you down one day.” pg. 109 You keep saying that but then you never do anything about it.

“Marcone stared hard at me for a moment. He wasn’t afraid of my eyes. He’d taken my measure, too, and I remembered the cold, fearless core of him, of an apex predator who happened to wear a human form. Then he, too, did something eerie.

He smiled.

A wolf would have been jealous.

“Excellent,” he said.

Then he left.” pg. 109 What is Marcone thinking? What do you mean eerie Harry? Marcone just smiled. Was he testing Harry? Did he want to know if Harry was still Harry? I have so many questions.

Go Harry! Save people

River Shoulders!

“I hit the ground at a roll, tried to come up running, and tripped on the damned Wardens cape. I half strangled myself and fell.” pg. 116 Foreshadowing? That the White Council isn’t good for Harry?

Huntsman are scary

“Damned pooch is more of a people person than I’ll ever be.” pg. 126 Ha

“Come on,” I said? before Marcone does something stupid.” pg. 127 Ha I’m sorry Marcone does something stupid? Don’t you mean yourself Harry?

“There was a muttered conversation above. Marcone leaned out and peered down at me a moment later. “What?” pg. 128 I just love the mental image of Marcone leaning out over a castle

“Marcone glowered at me. His pale green eyes tracked past me to the stragglers coming in.

“I am not a charitable organization,” he replied.

“You want to be Lord of Chicago?” I spat, contempt in my voice. “Talk is cheap. Act like it.” pg. 128 Yep and come on Marcone do I need to bring up all my points in Even Hand. And it’s Harry that’s asking. It’s the right thing to do, good PR, and what else are you going to use the castle for. They’re your people and they’re scared so help them. You saved the thralls in White knight while you did mention you weren’t a charity in Even Hand you did still help Justine

“Up on the wall, I saw Mab put a hand on Marcone’s arm in restraint and say something.

Marcone locked eyes.

With Mab.

Then he simply looked at her hand and arched an eyebrow.

Mab withdrew it, her in a small bow and turned back to me.” pg. 128 Did Marcone and Mab soul gaze? What happened?

“Marcone leaned an elbow on a merlon and considered me for a moment. Then the people again. He nodded his chin once.

“Talk is cheap” he confirmed. “Send them in.”

I blinked.” pg. 128 Why are you shocked Harry? Did you really think Marcone wouldn’t help?

“Mobility routines are important for a human your age,” pg. 133 Ha

“Not much difference, he said.

I pointed at a couple of half-dressed parents with half a dozen kids in various stages of pajamas hurriedly inside the squatting stone solidarity of the castle. “Makes a pretty big difference to them.”

“Yes,” he said “That’s right.” pg. 135 Yes!

I’m glad River Shoulders is a friend

“I didn’t make any high-pitched noises or anything. And you can’t prove otherwise.” pg. 136 Ha

“What?” Cristos, his handsome face confused. pg. 139 Bi Harry 57

What are Carlos and co. doing? I’m still mad at them.

“We didn’t see them until they got there! The foe has sneakily snucked a sneak attack behind our lines, like a sneaky sneak!”

“What kind of sneak attack?”

“The sneaky kind!” pg. 143 Ha

Oh no necromancy

“You are just damned useless in a military situation,” he said to raven. “No discipline at all.”

“Redneck!” cried the raven “Caw!”

Ebenezar waved a grumpy hand at the raven. “Fine. Take the Indian too. Silence that drum.” pg. 145 Ha

“Yes!” Wild Bill said. “Necromancers!”

I eyed him. “Seriously?”

“I like shooting zombies,” he drawled. “That’s all. I got a patch and everything.”

“Well, the idea is to stop them before they get the zombie hoard rolling,” I said

“Aw,” he said, disappointed, “that ain’t half as much fun.” pg. 145 Ha

“I’d been one of them once. I had a grave waiting for me in Graceland, kept open by force of whatever contract a deceased foe had prepared for me.” pg. 146 Yep

Mavra is here!?!

“is Drakul” pg. 153 Oh no

“The air somehow unscreamed, and the void black circle vanished.

Chandler went with it.” pg. 158 Oh no

“I’ll be open with you, starborn. At this point of conversations like this one, I often offer the dark gift of immortality to someone in your position. It’s occasionally a way to obtain a useful tool, but mostly I just want to see how they react. One sees people for who they truly are when they face death . . . but, honestly, five minutes of you in my life has been quite enough. You’ve no . . . gravitas. No decorum. No style at all.” pg. 160 Ha

“Knock-knock,” I said.

Drakul frowned down at me and arched an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “Here I am facing death and telling you a knock-knock joke. Why would I do such a thing?” I gave him the best grin I could while clenching my teeth. ��Eternity is a long time to wonder about a punch line. Knock-knock.”

“Who,” said Drakul, in his mellifluous accent, his eyes narrowed, “is there?”

“Thousand-pound gorilla,” I rasped.

“Thousand-pound gorilla who?” asked Drakul

And River Shoulders roared and hit him with a twelve foot long concrete obelisk.” pg. 161 Ha

Is Drakul seriously wearing tuxedo? I’m picturing the one Harry wore at Bianca’s party

Oh no River Shoulders

Ha Listen-to-Wind did a drop bear

“Wild Bill and Yoshimo were a mess of blood that looked wet and black in the dim light.” pg. 168 Sobbing

Go Toot! So cool that he sent Mavra on fire with garlic

“I told you, you Black Court bastards! Next time, anvils!” pg. 173 Ha

“They took them” pg. 173 Oh no the Black is going to turn Bill and Yoshimo :(

“I’m getting some damned answer. My whole life I’ve . . . No. Since my parents died, my life has been one person after another trying to get something out of me. Wanting me to make deals. Give them my loyalty. And there’s this whole starborn thing.” My voice dropped. “My whole life, I’ve had to figure it out on my own. I’m getting a damned answer. I’ve put myself at risk over and over for the Council. I’ve lost fr-“ I swallowed. “I’ve paid for it. You owe me.” pg. 176 Yep everyone keeping secrets from Harry

“Rifles swung to cover me, and I prayed that the officers had decent trigger discipline. I’d have hated to get accidentally shot.” pg. 181 the whine that this line got out of me. I’m drowning in dread. Jim why must you do this to me?

Rawlins!

“Depends, man. What was the name you knew me by the first time we met?”

“An Authority Figure,” I replied.

“Good enough for me,” pg. 182 Ha

Lamar!

“This your fault?”

“Not this time,” I said. “Honest.”

“Uh-huh,” he drawled, infusing both syllables with skepticism.

“It’s not always my fault,” I said.

“Sure,” pg. 183 Ha

“A genuine, honest-to-God giant. A Jotun.” pg. 189 Oh no

“Me?” I squeaked.” pg. 193 Ha come on Harry I believe in you

So cool that Eb turned the ground to sludge

I’m glad the Einherjaren are having fun

“Ethniu had taken the field.” pg. 200 Oh no

Butters!

“Sanya, Knight of the Cross, six and a half feet of muscle, dark-skinned and graceful,” pg. 206 Bi Harry 57

“Karrin Murphy appeared” pg. 207 Oh no

“This is Valkyrie. I’ve got Booster Gold.” pg. 207 Ow and Ha Who came up with Booster gold as Harry’s code name? Is it an accurate code name? All I know about Booster Gold is he’s from the future and stole something and came to the ‘past, (present) and became a superhero. Oh and him and Blue Beetle (yes really) might be a thing?

“Roger that, Valkyrie,” came a calm voice over the radio. Marcone.” pg. 207 Marcone and I wonder what his code name is?

Bob!

“Bozhe moi!” pg. 215 According to google translate this Russian for My God

“Will and the Alphas avoided making eye contact with me. Butters stared at me in awe and something like fear. Murphy looked at our forces, then at me, tensed her jaw, and gave me a single harsh nod before turning back to face the front.” pg. 220 Interesting

Malks are scary

The bean!

“Never once in your life, my Knight, have you taken the easy road. I chose well.” pg. 233 Yep

“You and Marcone have been thick as thieves lately. I know you both. There are more weapons around here somewhere. I need them.” pg. 234 Yep and I wonder when and why Marcone and Mab work together?

“This…banner” pg. 236 Interesting

“You never spoke to me about it.”

“Would you have listened?”

Well. Touché, I guess” pg. 236 Ha

“And when they die. I’ll feel that, too.” pg. 236 Oh no Harry doesn’t need more responsibility

“I offered my hand to Mab, plain soldier.

She took it.” pg. 238 Aw

“Marcone had planned as if he’d intended a city block party’s worth of amateurs to be kitted out with the one weapon that could do the most damage in their hands: shotguns.” pg. 239 Marcone mention and how much did he prepare?

“And with monsters as our vanguard, off we went to be Jotunslayers.” pg.249 AAAHHH!!! I’m not ready. I’m so nervous and scared.

Go Bradley!

“and Rudolph up there.” pg. 256 Ahhh

“I have fought the Odinson and lived to tell the tale.” pg. 264 So cool

“Dammit. Fire was my go-to exactly because it usually did the trick.” pg. 267 Oh no

“And she fired her weapon.” pg. 270 Go Murphy!

“Before I could respond, Rudolph’s panicky voice screamed, “Both of you, don’t move! Don’t either of you scumbags move a fucking muscle!” pg. 270 AAAHHH!!!

“and had the weapon leveled at Murphy.” pg. 270 AAAHHH!!!

“at least take your finger off the trigger.” pg. 271 AAAHHH!!!

“The gun went off.”

“Murphy dropped like a stone.” pg. 271 Sobbing :(

“Harry,” she said. “I lov-“

Her eyes were on mine, and I couldn’t look away. I felt the soulgaze begin.

And I saw the flame of a candle go out.” pg. 273 Sobbing

“It was just an empty house.” pg. 274 Sobbing

“I’d been too afraid to soulgaze Murph. Everyone who had done that with me had seen something that didn’t please them. I’d been afraid to lose her, and I’d never allowed it.” pg. 275 Well Marcone didn’t really react (I know this is a sad moment and I’m clinging to anything)

“I took off after my prey.” pg. 276 Oh no

“Why waste breath on a corpse?” pg. 278 Oh no

“This creature, this Rudolph, didn’t deserve even the death I was about to give him.” pg. 280 Oh no

Oh no Sanya and Harry are fighting :(

“I’m trying to protect my friend.” pg. 283 Poor Harry and poor Butters :(

“And my world became pain.” pg. 284 Oh no

“And in its wake, I broke.

I sobbed.” pg. 285 Sobbing

“Bozhe moi, you fight dirty.”

“Like a Russian.” pg. 286 Ha

“I wept.

And the city burned.” pg. 286 Poor Harry

“The humans that those beings would normally consider their prey had opened their eyes and armed themselves and were willing to fight.” pg. 288 Go people!

“She’s a Jotunslayer. She deserves to be laid with dignity.”

“And so she does,” pg. 290 Yes she does!

~Vacation time~

“My people were dying. I could feel it. Feel their pain. Their terror. Their confusion.” pg. 301 Interesting

“Because nothing cuts through bullshit like a proper fireball.” pg. 301 Yep

“We’ve got a goddamned wizard! Fuck those guys!” pg. 301 Ha

“You!” I said, relishing the moment. “Shall not! Pass!” pg. 305 So cool!

“Eight hundred men and women of Chicago popped up from behind the wall overlooking the sunken drive and opened fire with shotguns from a range of as little as thirty feet.”

“The slaughter was indiscriminate.” pg. 308 Yay go people!

“Until the Titan appeared.” pg. 309 Oh no

“Our messages keep getting smashed by these thrice-damned Little Folk,” pg. 321 Go Little Folk!

Where’s Marcone?

“But I was feeling grouchy. I assure you.” pg. 328 Ha

“The numbers stand at one Mab to none. That advantage shall be sufficient.” pg. 329 Yep

“Three feet of bloodied cold iron stood clear from the center of her torn, spraying throat.” pg. 339 Oh no

“Waaaaaah!” in the style of Bruce Lee. “Which one of you has brought me my nunchucks?”

“My humor is wasted, wasted upon most of the supernatural community.” pg. 344 Ha

“Boot to the head!” I shouted at Butters.

He blinked, and said, “Nah, nah?”

“Augh, you nerd!” pg. 344 Ha

“Fuck destiny,” I said. “Maybe I’ll free will his ass.” pg. 349 Ha

“I dredged up a quote from someone I rarely agreed with about anything. “What’s the point of free will, if not to spit in the eye of destiny.” pg. 350 Ah! He said the thing! I love that Harry quoted Marcone.

“Again. I was operating out of my weight class.” pg. 359 Don’t you always?

Go Molly!

“I’ve ridden horses more than most, and I feel qualified to say that riding a unicorn in battle is an experience I was unlikely to forget.” pg. 368 Harry the horse girl

“TITANIA! I SUMMON THEE!” pg. 374 Let’s go!

“I had a lot of blood and what looked like a horrible burn along the entire horizontal length of flesh beneath my ribs on the left side, shaped vaguely like the spreading branches of a tree, or maybe wave patterns in sand.” pg. 376 That’s the Lichtenberg scar I mentioned in Changes

“She could be beaten.

It could be done.” pg. 383 Good

“Yeah?” I wheezed. “Well. You suck.” 384 Ha

“And then Waldo Butters stepped up.” pg. 389 GO BUTTERS!

“Let there be light.” pg. 391 Yes!

“You know who’s come out ahead of every one of these guys at one time or another?”

“Harry Dresden. You haven’t killed him yet.”

“And as long as I’m standing here, you aren’t going to.” pg. 393 YES!

River Shoulders!

“And the Baron of Chicago led the way.” pg. 395 Marcone! He’s here! :) yes!

“Marcone strode into the light and clarity provided by the Summer Lady and came forward as though he meant to walk through a steel wall. He had shed his suit jacket in exchange for a pair of freaking pirate bandoliers hung with, I kid you not, what looked like seventeen or eighteen flintlock weapons-and he was carrying one in either hand.” pg.395 So cool! Look at him! Ahh!! :)

“To his right was Hendricks, dressed in a mix of tactical gear and what looked like samurai armor, carrying one of those automatic shotguns in one hand and a broadsword in the other. To his left, Gard strode along in silver armor that gleamed even when there wasn’t any light shining on it, over a mail coat that flowed like silk rather than steel. She carried her battle-axe in her hands, its blade shining with the power of glowing runes, so bright they left after images blurred into my vision. The two champions followed Marcone.” pg.395 So cool

“And I could feel, from there, the banner of his will streaming behind him.” pg. 395 I love that Marcone also has a banner!

“The Baron of Chicago dropped the gun, drew another and lifted his chin in sheer defiance.” pg. 397 So cool

Go Butters!

Go Ivy!

Go Gard!

Go Hendricks!

“No!” I shouted. I tripped the last couple of blasts of kinect force from my staff, emptying it,” pg. 421 I love that Harry tries to save Marcone

“Hendricks glowered up at the Titan. And spat.

And died.” pg. 421 Sobbing

“Gard screamed in simple, ancient, human anguish.” pg. 421 Poor Gard oh no did Gard know it was coming? With her ability to know when a person dies.

“slamming Marcone with Hendricks limp body with a hideous finality of impact.” pg. 421 Sobbing Poor Hendricks poor Marcone

“My grandfather went down hard. Unmoving.” pg. 422 Oh no

“Don’t care how Titanic you are. No one expects an orbital-drop grizzly.” pg. 423 Ha

“Hey! Regina George!” pg. 426 Ha

“It bounced and rolled and came to a stop against the boots of Hendricks’s corpse.” pg. 434 Sobbing

“And John Marcone popped out of the shadows near Hendricks’s body, seized it, gave me a ferocious glare, and sprinted toward Lake Michigan.” pg. 434 Why is Marcone glaring at Harry? And is that a glamour?

“Marcone knew the plan. And he’d been thinking about it harder than me.”

“So I flung myself after him,” pg. 435 Yes Harry follow Marcone

“I caught up to Marcone as he scrambled across the rough ground, running whenever possible. When I finally drew up beside him, he increased his pace, and I was hard pressed to stay with him. Granted, he didn’t look like he’d been through as much physical discomfort as I had that night, but even so he moved damned well, and like he’d been to places like this before.” pg. 436 Oh he moved well I like that Marcone started going faster when Harry caught up.

[innerchorus]

Due to me being currently sick and the recent chapter making my brain riot a question popped into my head (It is also semi-important to my AU...).

How old are like the "older" marzban? (aka Kharlan, Vahriz, Sam, etc)

I imagined them to be around their middle 40s to early 50s, keeping in mind that ArSen is situated in a time were people died rather young.

(I also saw a fanart where they claimed Sam to be 45, so I guess that is where my headcanon is from.)

Has it ever been stated or mentioned in the novel?

It won't surprise you to know that this is a question (regarding Kharlan and Sam) that I've thought about before! For those two, my guesses are similar to yours. For Vahriz, we do actually have an age given in canon; he's 65. His age and experience befits his rank of Eran and I'd say he's clearly visibly older than Sam and Kharlan. The novel states that Vahriz and Bahman have been comrades-in-arms for 45 years, so that gives you some indication of how lengthy his military career has been. For reference, Bahman himself is the oldest Marzban at 62.

I went poking around to find previous posts where I'd discussed ages for Kharlan and Sam; I guessed mid-40s at most here for Kharlan and 45-50 for Sam. As you'll see in the first linked post, I personally lean towards headcanoning Sam as older than Kharlan, though not by much. Honestly, in the absence of any canon info on his age, 45 feels like it would fit for Sam.

(At the very least, he and Kharlan are confirmed to be older than 31. Kubard is 31 and he's stated to be the third-youngest Marzban after Daryun and Kishward.)

Hope you feel better soon!

[amelia-ailema]

Gepard Landau- Hair strokes, some things never change

When you were younger, your best friend, Serval, asked you to watch over her younger brother, two grades below you two, during her guitar lessons. “He’ll be back from playing outside in a minute,” as she rushed out the door. You went outside to wave her goodbye, and sat on the marble stairs, humming a tune. Suddenly, a boy, with the same blue eyes and blond hair as Serval, bolted at an alarming fast speed, and.. fell towards you, flat on his face. He started crying after a brief pause, and slowly lifting his body up, hugging his legs as he sat still. Uh oh, the kid was scuffed up. You snapped out of your shock and rushed over. “Gepard, right?” you said gently. “Is it okay for me to carry you into the house?” The boy nodded. You carried him swiftly, and sat him on the velvet couch. Grabbing the first aid kit, you applied 4 bandaids. On his cheek, both of his elbows, and his kneecap. “There, all better,” you said with a soft smile. “Thank you,” he replied, and threw his hands around you, hugging you. You patted his head, and at his request, stroked his hair. You and him passed the time by drawing (although Gepard was quite bad, even for a kid), watching TV, and playing board games. Before you knew it, Serval was home. “Thanks, Y/N! I owe you,” as she handed you $50. “Isn’t- isn’t this a bit much?” you stuttered. “Don’t worry about it, you free to do this again next week?” Serval replied with a grin. Gepard nodded, a bit harder than he should’ve. “Sure! Gerpard’s an amazing kid,” you smiled. Until Gepard graduated junior high, you were his weekly babysitter, and often came over to hang out or have sleepovers with Serval. Gepard would try to stay up with you two, but always fell by 10 pm. He couldn’t help it, the way he asked you to stroke his hair yet again, relaxing at the touch.

As Gepard kneeled on the ground, holding his head, with his comrades all panting on the floor. After Gepard and his guards have risen, and listened to your group’s explanation, you looked at Serval. “I wish to stay here and help explain the situation, and prevent the rest of the guards from attacking you,” you reasoned. With a knowing smile, Serval nodded, as the group and you wished each other luck. As soon as the group was out of sight, Gepard crashed to the ground. As you and the guards rushed towards him, he murmured, “Y/N, I summoned a shield on you and and my sister before the fight.. I don’t wish to see you, or Serval get hurt,” he added softly, “I’m in love with you.” He must’ve over exhausted himself, with investigating the case and an even more exhausting fight. As the Silvermane guards carried him to the medical tent, you were by his side, never taking your eyes off of him. Your heart skipped a beat, replaying his sudden confession in your head.

It’s been three days. You sit besides him, stroking his hair like you did in your childhood. As you rest your head on the side of his cot once more, you could’ve sworn his hand twitched. Not fully realizing the situation in your tired state, you clasped his hand and fell asleep. You woke up a few hours later, somebody’s hand running through your hair. Relaxed, you felt your tension leave- hold on, wait a minute- “Gepard, you’re awake,” you said softly. You rest your head against his shoulder. “And by the way, I feel the same,” you admitted. “Over the past few years, I started to see you differently, and realized it was love.” Gepard blushed, pulling you in for a hug so you wouldn’t see how red his face was. “For me, it was the day we met, I knew that you were special,” he said softly. He added, “Can I kiss you?” and nervously waited. “Of course,” you answered. He pulled you in, his lips on yours melting your brain. “They’re soft,” you thought. As he pulled away, Gepard asked you to run your fingers through his hair. Some things never change. Neither of you know what the future holds, but you would never be apart now. As you hugged each other tightly, you knew in your hearts that you were made for him, and he was made for you.

Fin.

[hylaversicolor]

somewhat related to this other post but ocelot hijacking ray is on my mind yet again. the scene goes like this

sergei: ocelot, you...! have you sold us out? ocelot: heh. i was never in your employ, gurlukovich. (he closes his eyes, as if in satisfaction that his presumably decades of deceiving sergei have finally paid off) sergei: are you still in league with solidus? ocelot, with his back to the camera: no hard feelings, colonel. mother russia can rot, for all i care. sergei: since when, ocelot? when did you turn? (the camera is on ocelot's boots. he then physically pivots/turns about 90 degrees towards sergei so that they're facing perpendicular to each other and the camera cuts to his face in a way that you can't see his eyes.) ocelot: i'm glad you noticed, comrade. i abandoned her during the cold war. sergei: argh...! ocelot: metal gear only has room for one! (finally we pan up to his face; his eyes are presumably still closed from before. slowly he opens them.) gurlukovich, you and your daughter will die here.

the blocking and cinematography of this scene gives us a lot about sergei, and by extension, ocelot. every time sergei speaks the camera is on him so that we can clearly see the emotions on his face. everything he says, every emotion he goes through is authentic. he's shocked and betrayed at the idea that ocelot, someone he had assumed was his ally, could betray him so casually, and he reacts with strong, intense emotions. by contrast, when the camera is on ocelot it either focuses on his feet, or shows him from an upward or sideways angle where his face is either obscured or not plainly visible. this is significant because ocelot's little speech here is one of the only times he comes close to speaking his true feelings. obviously he doesn't give sergei the whole story, but for once he isn't lying here. he really doesn't care about mother russia. he really did abandon russia during the cold war. his reasons for that, as we know in hindsight, pertain to john and his dedication to him, something that i assume sergei knows nothing about. but i also don't think he's lying when he tells sergei he's glad that sergei has noticed (unsaid: his devotion to john).

i want to bring up the eyes closed thing because without a free camera mod there's no way to know if ocelot's eyes were closed for this entire speech where he reveals his true feelings. if they were indeed closed the entire time, we can interpret this as ocelot being unable to speak the truth unless he hides part of himself (eyes as a window to the soul, if you will) away.

but even if they weren't closed, the fact that they're obscured from the camera and from the audience is still significant. ocelot is only able to speak of himself and his devotion to john in half truths, and when he does it he's not able to show himself completely. he's not an authentic person despite his very "pure" (as described in kojima's mgs3 commentary) love for john so even when he speaks of it he has to conceal himself, as if the honesty of it will just tear him apart if he tries to embody it completely. this very contradiction drives him for 50 years.

[nahoyasboyfriend]

Not an ask, just a Jamie imagine for you.

Year 1992. James was aware that it was the end of the golden era for serial killers; very few true sickos left on this Earth to do his bidding. His darling wife's favourite era was the 70s, and so was his - the most depraved men could enact their violent fantasies on unsuspecting victims, and he could consult them on their insanity. If he deemed them worthy, they'd become part of his soirée on Devil's Night, but not all were invited. Somehow, he knew most of America's more prolific killers, as the energy of Cortez seemed to lure them in. But he only invited his friends, his comrades, his brothers in sin.

In 1992, he was sure he was the last of his kind, the last true serial killer left. And he kept searching for new victims. Over the years, he had them less and less frequently. Thrice a week or more when he was alive, about weekly in the 40s and 50s, two a month the next decade, moving to about 5 a year in the 90s. Entertaining people were hard to come by, and his old methods couldn't satisfy his hunger anymore. He was tired of unsuspecting prey; he needed the chase, the game, the hunt to last longer.

He planned this quite meticulously, and his plan was to come to fruition when you walked into the hotel, announcing to the receptionist thst you'll be staying here for two weeks, all alone. Oh, your boyfriend? He left you a few months ago, leaving you depressed, desperate and with quite low self esteem. A perfect target. After a few days at the hotel, you knew something was... off. The bartender was mysterious and gave you hints about the paranormal activity here. You've always believed in spirits, but surely they couldn't ever harm anyone? They were just that, spirits.

After about three days, you started getting scared for real - nightmares, creepy sounds, blood stains that appear and disappear. You were also quite lonely, arriving to the hotel because of a friend's recommendation, yet you had no one to talk to in all of LA. All the spooking was, of course, orchestrated by James. He wanted you vulnerable and delicate for him.

He started talking to you a week after you moved in to your room. A charming, albeit eccentric gentleman he was. Never making advances towards you and always knowing what to talk about. He seemed well-read and intelligent, but also unsettling somehow, fake, as if all his emotions were play pretend. But you, lonely and abandoned, felt attracted to him. So for the next week, you two met up regularly at the hotel bar. He even led you to your room once, and didn't try to invite himself in. Never even suggested sex. You started to wish that he did... he was incredibly attractive and sweet, after all. You were sad when your stay was up, you wanted to stay here longer with the man. So, he paid for your extended stay - just another week. You were too enamored to doubt him, as you two were practically dating already. He introduced himself as James March, told you he was an architect, specializing in the art deco design style. That explained his outdated attire, right? He was amazing at shushing your concerns about him. His cold hands? Oh, low iron levels, my dear, such a nuissance. The lack of knowledge on modern culture and television? Ah, he is just more of a book person, coming from a traditional, intelligent family. He was clearly well off, too. Perfect man.

After the additional week was up, you gave him your phone number and promised to call frequently, maybe meet up. He asked you for one last drink. You agreed, despite how strangely excited he was. Shouldn't he be sad you were leaving?...

"Darling, you have forgotten your suitcase... yes you have, see? Oh, it appears that the drinks proved too strong for you. Yes, I will help you to your room, sweetheart."

You had no idea the drink was spiked. You also had no idea when he led you to room 78 instead of yours, too hazy from whatever drug he dosed you with. When you woke up, you were tied. Your hands above your head, and you stood on a stool. If he removed that stool, you'd be hanging by your hands. The sudden disturbance would cause your shoulders to dislocate and cause unbearable pain... wait, why were you thinking about that? Shouldn't you be getting away?

You looked around, and there he was, sitting on a chaise-lounge and smoking a pipe. He was smiling. You panicked, but stayed silent, waiting for an explanation.

"You've come to your senses, dearest, how wonderful." He pulled a knife out of his cane and you almost stumbled off the stool, "You are in for an amazing night... maybe another day, too. I have been aching for something... different, you see."

He stood up and approached you, blowing the aromatic smoke in your face, making you frown and tremble. Your James did this?... your charming, sweet, one-of-a-kind James Patrick March? Why?...

He smiled. Oh, your panic. So sweet. Oh, he would savor this expression of yours, your delicious fear. You had no idea who he was, had you? He gripped your waist, making you flinch, yet the familiarity of his touch made you feel safe as well as aroused. It was strange.

"You will suffer quite a bit, as my delicate dessert, but I want you to know, you are my most special and cherished prey. It will be an honour having you in my hotel for all of eternity, by my side.", he stated with that charming smile of his.

After that, he began.

-love, Nika

Sorry if it's messy! I wrote it in like 30mins, and on my phone and barely edited😭 I'll write you a part 2 if ur interested <3 bcs I'm always eager to talk about him. Feel free to publish this ask or keep it, whatever u prefer.

[lili-loves-whump]

uhhh hi. Is the mic working? I think so...

Behold! It is I, lili-loves-whump!!

I'm a teenage writer from Australia, and have been on Tumblr for about a year before finally deciding to post my own content!

A few things about me:

I love love love love any version of TMNT, and all the creators who do art and stories around them. Shoutout to my fellow comrades trying to revive ROTTMNT. Keep fighting!!

I mostly write Hero x Villain snippets (not prompts- if you inspire from my work, be sure to take me!!) but occasionally you'll also see whump or even fanart

I don't really like things. If you earn a like from me, that means it's gone in my archive so I can see it again someday.

My book collection is off the charts, so I love giving and receiving recommendations!

The ask box is always open, and even if I take a while, I cherish each person who spends the time to send me a message through it.

you are not perfect

(an angsty fanfic about rottmnt.)

Whumpmas 2023

(all prompts from the 30 days of Whumpmas in 2023)

I'll always continue a snippet if you ask me to, jut drop it in my inbox!!

I am not creative enough to come up and remember all the parts to a previous story. If you realise I've made a mistake somewhere, feel free to send me a polite message so I can fix it :)

Hero x Villain Volume 1

Hero x Villain Volume 2

(50+ prompts about Hero, Villain, and the gang of Supers and Evils running around a city. Not connected unless specified by a number after the title.)

Whump: Volume 1

(5+ prompts about Whumpee, Whumper, caretaker, and the trials and aftermath of torture. Not connected.)

lili thinks

(tiny snippets and random ideas thought up that I don't have motivation to write. Includes shitposts. Not connected.)

lili continues

(mostly just ask games or work I'm tagged in)

Random others:

Donnie

Finger Guns

Vivienne

Lily

Mittens

The Bizarre Restaurant

Lmao

Love

Queen Card

Secret Santa

(prompts that do not fall under the two main subtypes. Not connected.)

that's it!! I really hope you enjoy what I've written.

my ao3 (big projects go here)

my homepage

my reading/book blog

uhhhh yep. that's it from me. have a nice rest of ur day/night xx

[acourtofthought]

you are downplaying elriel scenes tho💀💀even the way you're talking about azriel saving elain says everything.

as for tt, how old is azriel again? around 500 yeah?? do you really think that a 500yr old illyrian warrior has never been in a situation where he gave his weapons to comrades? for someone who is oh so holy about context, you're forgetting that rhys mentioned to feyre that az never let anyone TOUCH tt. it's not just a matter of lending tt to someone during battle. it's so important to him that he's not let anyone before even hold the damn thing.

'But your claims that TT and his rescuing Elain equals love and feelings is pretty much disproven considering he was still in love with Mor months later on Solstice. He's not simultaneously in love with Elain.' - could you point me to these claims of mine? I don't recall me saying that🤔unless, it's your age working tricks on you...

elain reminded azriel of his mother as a servant which is why he helped her?😶how long did it take you to reach for THAT take?💀

you people are just so dramatic. you're acting like azriel locked elain away and took all her choices when all he said was that the trove has a darkness that elain shouldn't be exposed to. (to which cassian replied "and nesta should?" showing that he has similar thoughts about nesta). he expressed that he doesn't want her involved in something so dark. did he go to elain and tell her that he forbids her from going? no. and your little examples dont change the fact that rhys and cassian DO have their overprotective moments. rhys literally growled at nesta when she so much as looked at feyre wrong😂

it's actually kinda hilarious that you're sitting there accusing me of 'glorifying' elriel scenes when you're the one swooning over lucien giving elain the space she needs which is the bare minimum a decent person could do.

I also don't see where you got the idea of me trying to influence your opinion from?? it's simply discourse on social media. if you don’t want to interact then turn off your anons. (I can send you tutorials on how to do that, sweetie😘)

Oh my god, another "sweetie" 🤦😭. You really have no shame 😂. And once again trying to insult my age which further proves your immaturity.

I promise you, one day your 40 / 50 year old self look will look back at your actions and be embarrassed.

It's absolutely PATHETIC that I blocked your main account yet you are logging on to a secondary account for the sole purpose of harassing others.

Once again, you misunderstand the true spirit of discourse because snidely sending anons is not it.

You completely miss the point of what I'm saying, a common occurrence for you.

Is it possible Az has lent out weapons to other soldiers? Sure. But have we any proof that Az has ever needed to sit out of battle?

NO.

He ALWAYS has TT on him which means if Az is in battle, HE will use TT.

And what reason would Az ever have to let someone touch TT? 😂. "Hey baby, want to touch my dagger?"

Everyone in his circle is a warrior and they have their own weapons.

The only reason TT was available for someone else to use was because Mor begged him to sit out. Az was planning on flying into battle after being severely wounded which strongly suggests he doesn't sit out of battle for anything. Yet the female he loved begged him not to go so he suddenly had no need for TT. And in this storyline, there just happened to be a human recently turned Fae who had no weapon on her person.

I highly doubt there has ever been a scenario where Az was preparing to go into battle, decided to sit out, and had a random female hanging around who needed protection but in that case he refused to give it to her because he was saving that action for the female he'd someday love.

If you want to throw context in my face, I'd like to remind you letting Elain touch TT didn't mean what you think it means since he's never thought of her beyond his sexual fantasies. 🤷. You say I'm downplaying E/riel scenes whereas I'm merely explaining why those scenes all amounted to a whole lot of nothing except Az wanting a mate and using Elain as spank bank material.

Rhys growled at Nesta? THAT is what you're trying to compare to Az saying Elain shouldn't be allowed to do something dangerous? REALLY?! 😂

And Cassian said, "and Nesta should?" only in response to Az basically saying one female shouldn't be allowed to do something dangerous yet the other females don't matter.

He's not saying Nesta shouldn't be allowed to search for the Trove, he's saying no female is more exempt than any other which is basically what Az is suggesting. He's calling out Az for his idiot comment, something Amren also had to do.

And my take on Elain reminding Az of his mother is a REACH?! It's in the text!

Let’s just say it hit a little close to home. At my beat of confusion, he added, There are some scars when it comes to how his mother was treated. Many scars. His mother, who had been a servant—near-slave—when he was born. And afterward. None of us bother to wait for everyone to sit, least of all Cassian. It can strike at odd times.

I'm not sure how many more ways I can say this, in my opinion your interpretation of the text is weak and uninspired. There is no insult you can throw my way, no take on the series that is going to change my mind.

And once AGAIN, you take one sentence of a post and run with it. Lucien has never once demanded Elain make a decision on the bond. That's not all he's done for her but it is a big deal when you consider all the E/riels that claim Lucien harasses her. And the phrasing for that sentence was in regards to that fact and that he has given her space and freedom to deal with her trauma and being made before dealing with the enormity of a mating bond.

I don't know, it seems like a pretty obvious concept to me. Maybe it's just something that comes with old age 😉

You are wasting your time sending messages and this will be the last time I respond to them. My anons are open because some Elucien's and Gwynriels want to share their thoughts without becoming a target for people like you. They are not open for trolls who enjoy starting shit "anonymously" under the guise of wanting to have a "peaceful" debate. You're not fooling anyone.

[kylaschuyler]

Those Who Lived That Kept Them Alive

WORDS: 1203

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51354691

Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager, Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Post-War, Post-Canon, Grieving Ackermans, General grieving tho heavy implications of ships, They/Them Pronouns for Hange Zoë, I spelled Yeager as Jeager, Fluff and Angst

Language: English

BASED ON: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gnypiKNaJE

I APOLOGIZE FOR THE ERRORS SINCE ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Joining the Survey Corps is like digging your grave, yet many tried to achieve glory. Losing a limb in the name of humanity is honorable; to die is a legacy. No one is safe; no one can control who lives, who dies, and who will tell their stories. 

Admit it or not, Eren temporarily stops the impending war between Marley and Paradis, but that doesn't mean that his actions are justifiable. Genocide is wrong; civilians and children are mostly the victims, barely the rich and the powerful. Commander Erwin Smith's story is a myth covered in gold, and Floch's legacy as a mighty hero echoes throughout the island despite being the coward he is. The remaining soldiers get to live a long life; it is a blessing to see another day, but not when grieving, not when the beloved dear bid their goodbye for the last time.

Mikasa lived another 50 years, married Jean, had a family with him, and was contented with the love she was giving and receiving. Mikasa loved Jean for who he was, yet at the same time, she is a hypocrite if she says that she never saw Eren in Jean at least once and never wished to have a family and grow old with Eren instead. 

Levi, on the other hand, lived with Onyankopon and was visited by his comrades, who were once teenagers that he looked after. 

Other than blood and surname, Levi and Mikasa have another in common, and that is losing the person they love the most on the same day for the exact cause that is hated, depending on which perspective. Hange and Eren both sacrificed their lives to save people. The people of Paradis hate Hange because they lead the Alliance, aiming to stop the rumbling; meanwhile, Eren is hated by those who survived. 

Mikasa visits Levi alone when she has time; she knows the only person who can understand her is him, who is also in the same situation. The older Ackerman was on the vast garden porch, calmly sitting in his wheelchair. "Someone fucked with Jaeger's grave again?" Levi asked concernedly, yet his voice remained monotonous, as usual. He saw burns in her fingers, most likely from the bleach she used to clean the vandals in Eren's grave. "How many times do I have to tell you to use gloves?" without another spoken word, Mikasa knelt and cried on his knees like a child. "Hange remains to live up to her dirty reputation even after death." it somehow made her chuckle, "How can you forgive those who did it?" she asked while sobbing, "I never, I cursed 50 generations of their descendants to suffer." Levi seriously answered. It took years before Mikasa understood Levi's humor; it is dry and unhinged. "I am trying a new product that can remove inks and paint easily. I'll give you a bottle later." cleaning is his love language, one of the ways to let someone know they care, "Jaegerist cult trashed Hange's grave for the third time this month." he continued, At first, Levi thought that twice a month was enough to visit Hange's empty grave, not until he saw how people tried to erase their existence by destroying their remaining physical memory after the incident it became a routine for him to visit every week. "I am actually planning to build a fence full of barbed wire and broken glass to prevent people from disturbing their peace. You can do that with Jaeger, but it's unnecessary since one word from you, the government will send guards to look after it." 

"For what? To keep the royalists from thinking that Historia and Eren had a secret relationship, that he was the father of her daughter? I am tired of it. I am tired of people calling me 'EREN'S SISTER' just to keep their delusion alive." Mikasa sobbed."We're building a fence then."

"Can we work on a rose garden around it too?" She suggested last.

Levi accepted that Jaegerist managed to burn everything Hange owned; the mere fact made his blood boil, but what could he do? It happened already. 

"How did you know?" On his birthday, Levi received tons of gifts from friends. All of it is the things he loved, the little pleasures that made him feel alive. It is also the first birthday after the war, his first birthday without Hange, the only person who knows about it. "Don't you like it?"  Gabi asked. "He liked it so much that he stopped functioning." Connie joked, easing the child's worry. "Captain, do you remember when... when those assholes tried to burn the whole Survey Corps headquarter?" Jean carefully constructed his words so that his question wouldn't make Levi uncomfortable. "I do."  Armin took it as a signal to tell him what they did. "Months ago, we managed to save a few things by collecting what we could and by bribing some of the arsonists."  Connie and Jean, along with Onyakopon, carried boxes in front of Levi, "Huh?"  Confusion consumed him, "Open one." 

Inside the box, Hange's clothes and uniforms are neatly folded, "I thought..."  Levi opened another box, and it contained piles of their old research. "Everything that we gave to you today, captain, is from the commander's last to-buy list. They were supposed to give it to you after you came back from looking after Zeke."  Jean handed him a paper with Hange's handwriting on it.

Way back, they agreed that if one of them died, no one was allowed to cry. Levi could feel his tears from the side of his eyes, and he did his best to keep it from falling. 

"Thank you for watching over us," he mumbled. It won't bring them back to life, but it is enough to give him hope to live another day.

Archived research of Survey Corps that was led by Hange Zoe and their team was published; from the day he received it up to his last breath, he tried to make sense of their thousands of pages of writings. Hange really does write like they are running out of time.

He grieved, but he never cried, dedicated to keeping his promises to them. Levi proved to the world that he was the strongest man alive, with or without his physical strength. 

Levi was buried beside Hange. Finally, they fulfill their wishes to live together in peace.

Mikasa, on the other hand, helped Kaya to run Sasha's family orphanage. She raised funds and spoke out about the importance of peace, and diplomacy. She told the untold story of Eren's humanity, that he was left with no choice, and just like everyone, he feels regrets and remorse. Mikasa also reminded them Eren is no God.

In the children's eyes, she sees Eren, she sees herself, and their friends; glad that they are able to live in a world without walls. 

She might have chosen not to take part in what the others are doing, but Mikasa is proud of her work as much as she is proud of them. 

The time came; on the bed of roses, she was laid beside Eren. 

They lived, dedicated their hearts, and they successfully kept them alive. 

[scotianostra]

25th of April marks  ANZAC Day which commemorates the landing of Australian and New Zealand (Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) troops at Ari Burnu on the Gallipoli  peninsula. Let’s pray that we never see a war like the two  that blighted the 20th century, I only wish that wars everywhere would end……

The song And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda was written by Eric Bogle, who left Scotland and emigrated to Australia at the age of 25, he has lived in the country now for over 50 years. Eric says of the song;

“I wrote it as an oblique comment on the Vietnam War which was in full swing… but while boys from Australia were dying there, people had hardly any idea where Vietnam was. Gallipoli was a lot closer to the Australian ethos – every schoolkid knew the story, so I set the song there.”   Bogle is on record for having regretted the lines  “And the young people ask what are they marching for, and I ask myself the same question.” He realised much later that some people thought he was disrespecting what the soldier’s had done in the war. This was not his intention; he wanted to stress the horror of war.

Let’s remember all that have died, not just at Gallipoli, but worldwide in all wars.

And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda

Now when I was a young man, I carried me pack, And I lived the free life of a rover From the Murray’s green basin to the dusty outback, Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over. Then in 1915, my country said “Son, It’s time you stopped rambling, there’s work to be done”. So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun, And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played Waltzing Matilda As the ship pulled away from the quay And amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears, We sailed off for Gallipoli.

And how well I remember that terrible day, How our blood stained the sand and the water And of how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay, We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter. Johnny Turk he was waiting, he’d primed himself well He showered us with bullets and he rained us with shell And in five minutes flat, he’d blown us all to hell Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played Waltzing Matilda, When we stopped to bury our slain. We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs Then we started all over again.

And those that were left, well we tried to survive, In that mad world of blood, death and fire And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive Though around me the corpses piled higher Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head And when I woke up in me hospital bed, And saw what it had done, well I wished I was dead Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I’ll go no more waltzing Matilda All around the green bush far and free To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs No more waltzing Matilda for me.

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed And they shipped us back home to Australia The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay, I looked at the place where me legs used to be And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me To grieve, to mourn, and to pity.

But the band played Waltzing Matilda As they carried us down the gangway But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April, I sit on me porch, And I watch the parade pass before me. And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march Reviving old dreams of past glories And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore They’re tired old heroes from a forgotten war And the young people ask “What are they marching for?” And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays Waltzing Matilda And the old men still answer the call, But as year follows year, more old men disappear Someday no one will march there at all.

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me? And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?