#we absolutely hold some responsibility for the actions of our ancestors

[vimoh]

The problem with karma and reincarnation

A lot is written and spoken by atheists about the idea of a personal god. But religions can exist and thrive without that particular quirk. God does tend to be the greatest superstition afflicting the world, but there are variations that are equally responsible for keeping religion alive, even among people who like to say that they are "spiritual, not religious". One of these ideas is karma (not of the Reddit variety). Another is reincarnation. Both these ideas kind of depend on each other for survival. So here is an attempt at explaining what these things really are.

We are apes. We came from an ape-like ancestors. We have made our way on this planet by using a few qualities that evolution bestowed upon us. One of these qualities is imagination. Yuval Noah Harari (author of Sapiens) calls the acquisition of this gift the Cognitive Revolution.

From human imaginations came structures that hold society together. These structures were not physical ones, but they did end up being the foundation for a lot of physical things in our lives — places of religious value, sacred artifacts, clothes that mark some members of society as being different from others (priests and monks), ideas like good & evil, morality, and even justice. And of course, symbols, markings, and words that distinguish members of one tribe from another.

I have personally come to the conclusion that the idea of cosmic justice (basically karma), more than anything else, is the reason behind the idea of an afterlife. People's belief in karma powers their belief in life after death. And their belief in afterlives supports their belief in karma. It's kind of a vicious circle.

Think about it. What is justice? It is the assumption that human beings are responsible for the consequences of their actions. Nations have legal frameworks that ensure justice is meted out. Holy books of many religions speak of what constitutes good deeds and bad deeds. They even contain elaborate descriptions of the consequences that people will suffer for their deeds. Some of these consequences may come to us while we are still alive — prison, a thousand lashes, stoning, banishment etc. Other consequences — punishments and rewards so great that nothing in this world can possibly measure up — are said to belong in the life after death.

Justice is a human creation. It does not exist in nature. But because systems of justice are important for societies, there was a need to assert that justice is inescapable. This was done with stories. Stories about divine, inescapable, and absolute justice.

Religions are stories that we made up to make sense of our place in the world. But then, these stories grew in size and scope and listeners became followers and then actual characters in the stories. The rules of the stories began to apply to the people who were listening to them. It is not something that is often readily apparent, but the stories you listen to, can swallow you whole. It starts when you cry while reading a novel, or while watching a movie. The next thing you know, you are cosplaying at the comic con, having literally become the character. Humankind, the species of ape that is us, was swallowed by the stories it told when it did not have a very good grasp of the way the world works. Sometimes these stories were about god and sometimes about intangible principles like karma - the idea that justice is a cosmic force as inescapable as gravity. The reason many of us are no longer capable of processing the fact that religions are essentially just fiction, is because they have the benefit of having been in currency for generations.

Truth is, justice does not actually exist as an objective reality. It has no reality outside of human imagination. It only works because we make it work with the help of each other. And often, it doesn’t even work then. You don’t need me to give you examples. We all know good people who have suffered and bad people who have gotten away without punishment. Justice is a fiction that must be real if human society is to work. It is not for no reason that we equate lawlessness with chaos.

So here we are. We need to believe justice exists (otherwise, what’s the point?). But we can see with our own eyes that there is no absolute justice in the world. So we push the boundaries of our story and tell ourselves that justice does exist, that the good will be rewarded no matter what, and that the bad will be punished no matter what. We tell ourselves that death is not the end and that there is space for justice to work even after a human being ceases to exist. And since the imparting of justice requires judges law enforcers, and punishers, the afterlives we imagine are full of gods, angels, demons, and divine jail keepers.

#karma #reincarnation #indianatheist #atheism

[testingcheats0n]

Massive Dream SMP Fic Rec!!

Hey- Hi, I just feel like there are a ton of fanfiction that's really underrated in this fandom- so I'm going to dump it on your dash!!! Most of it is going to be Tommy-centric or SBI-centric, but they are very good!

Source: Me

Finished Fanfics:

Multi-chaptered Fanfics:

that's, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade

Hard-hitting, but has a happy ending, though I recommend reading the prequel (in the same series) first, otherwise, it's lowkey depressing.

MORE RECOMMENDATIONS BELOW THE CUT!!

you’ll rise above (crowned by an overture bold and beyond) by azvremoon

Tommy is not sixteen. He has faced too many open wounds, dripping ichor onto blood-stained warzones, to be just a child. He is Blood and War and needless Death, an all-in-one special of everything that can ruin reality.

(Tommy is the blood god. No one should know, but this server can't stop pushing him over the edge.)

+2 more Works that were Inspired by this one

Tommy is a BAMF and Dream, Technblade, and Phil get fucked it is what it is.

Responsible Forever by SilverWing15

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” /////

“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”

“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”

“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”

“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”

“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.

Or: RaccoonInnit taken well beyond its logical conclusion

Tommyinnit is a Raccoon boi that lives with other Raccoons

Protecting the Traumatised Youth by spookyserpent

Sam blinks. “What?”

Even behind the mask, Sam has the distinct impression that Dream is grinning at him. “A week and he was begging for my attention, even after I stole and burnt his armour, even after the beatings. He couldn’t stand me leaving him because I was the only one to show up, to pay him attention. It was hilarious.”

Sam is going to be sick.

Or, Sam decides to ask Dream about his intentions and ends up becoming a big brother to Tommy and Tubbo. All the while, Dream and George fight, Niki and Jack plan child murder and Ranboo is slowly getting adopted into the SBI.

Awesamdad written back when it was possible... ahhh

Chaos In a Bottle by Lovetribable

After a realization, Tommy leaves the pillar, but instead of going to Techno. He just disappears, leaving everyone to think he's gone.

It takes a war to bring him back.

+2 Sequels and an Alternative Ending

Dadinnit!! + A Sympathetic Dream

Absolutely Anything For Them by Numanum

“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tubbo,” Dream sighs, meeting his eyes cooly. Tubbo, back against a tree, shudders at his tone, at the look on his face.

The sword at his neck skims across his skin as Dream shifts his grip on it, and he flinches back into the rough bark behind him. Dream smiles at his reaction, seeming pleased- like the cat that’s been toying with a mouse that always tries to run no matter how many times it’s caught. And, despite this being his first encounter alone with the man, he thinks that the comparison is fairly accurate; Tubbo has never felt smaller than he does now. There’s supposed to be a buddy system to prevent things like this- he shouldn’t be alone here, stuck in this situation.

Or: Tubbo becomes a traitor to save everyone and has to struggle with his choices

Traitor Tubbo, but it has the happiest ending possible since it follows the rest of the story.

Where Did You Come From, Kit? by KadeAK (zacixn)

Hybrids are an ancient species of humans crossed with animals, blessed with the favour of nature. They used to live in peace on the SMP’s land, but ever since the dawn of humanity’s modern culture, they have become ostracised and hunted by their once-brethren. Now, the once-thriving subspecies of hybrids have been reduced to ashes, the majority of their peoples struggling to survive in a city capital that can't stand their presence.

To the members of L’Manburg, General Wilbur Soot is just another mildly prejudiced human being, stuck with a hybrid fox kit for an adopted child. However, that assumption could not be farther from the truth. As it turns out, there's a reason why he is the man he is today.

This fic is entirely pre-L’Manburg.

Part of a series, very good.

Take It Easy by sweet_magnolias

Five times Techno scared Michael, one time Michael scared him, and the resolution of those fears.

AKA - Techno learns how to be an uncle.

Technoblade's POV, so expect some Tubbo bashing on the margins of all that Michael fluff.

I suppose it’s never my time to die, is it? by Birb_Whale

The first time it happens, he barely remembers. The second time is when he realized. The third... Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern

“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy”

Messed up, but not unrealistic. Purely for the Hurt/Comfort lovers.

This Wasn't Planned, But It'll Work Out by Anonymous

Dream isn't sure what to think when he finds a kid on his doorstep, but he can't just leave him there, now can he?

(He doesn't know what he's getting into, or what he's gotten the kid into, either)

Long, and angsty, with a bittersweet ending Imo.

let's play a game by Aria_Cinabun

Tommy was once a slave. That's gone now - shoved in his past with the memories of blood and gore and death. He wants to forget who he was; what he has to do to survive. Of course, the Elementalists will always come back to haunt him. They aren't the ones who killed his mother, but they're close enough. And now he and his brother have been dragged into the mess, as Elementalists with their own, separate covens, to find the Pit - the place where he'd lived and killed and hurt for the first twelve years of his life. His coven can't know. Can't know who he really is, what he can really do. Can't know anything about his past. He doesn't want a coven full of Elementalists who don't trust him; one of whom he's pretty sure despises him. He doesn't want that life. He wants the life of a pickpocket, on the streets, because nobody questions street kids, and nobody comes asking about his past and pushes him to tell his secrets that he holds closest inside. Tubbo tries to tell him to trust people. But trust is how you die.

Good fantasy AU, has SBI, and is thus fluffy.

Turn of the Tide by SilverWing15

Tommy’s fins twitch at the mention of Dream’s ancestors. Dream talks about them a lot, how they made their fortune hunting down mer pods, how they were cruel and greedy. Nothing like Dream is. They’ve both overcome their roots he says.

Tommy is nothing like the wild mer out in the ocean, who spend their lives scraping by just to survive, who kicked him out of the pod when he was a baby because he was too small. He’s also better than the pit mer, who can’t overcome their wild instincts and know nothing but fighting.

He’s different from them, he’s better than them. He’s Dream’s. //// OR: Change is like the tide, when it comes, you can only sink or swim. You would think that a mer would be better at keeping afloat.

Mermaid AU Pooog. Part of a series.

One-Shots:

Snapped by AmberRunnel

“You don’t know what I went through in that prison cell.”

Jack burst out laughing, blinded with rage and the overwhelming urge to hurt Tommy, to give him everything he deserved. “Oh, is the poor child traumatized? You want pity now?” He twisted his blade, and Tommy’s axe was sent clattering to the ground.

“If the prison was so awful, why don’t I send you back there?”

-|-

Jack doesn't handle Tommy's revival well. There's a simple solution, though. Kill Tommy, and Dream revives him right back into that cell. Problem solved, kid dealt with.

It takes a few confrontations for Jack to realize he's an asshole.

It's fucked up, but god does it hurt in a good way.

the sky is coming down blue by salinesolution

An imagining of New Milo's perspective throughout the Skyblock Randomizer adventure. What did he think of the world he found himself in, and how did Wilbur's feelings and actions change things for him? Here's my way of answering those questions.

He made the fish think, funniest shit I've seen.

You told me to be a hero (so let me die like one) by spiromachia

"You told me to die like a hero," the blond interrupted, spinning on his heel to face the others, holding his arms wide open, "So why not fulfil the ending that was always meant to be."

Across the battle field, through the chaos and destruction, a tree burned.

Even the sound of explosions and cries and bloodshed felt distant enough for the world to become silent for a few moments, each individual slowly coming to the same conclusion, each of their bodies tensing.

Tommy's face broke out into a grin as he lowered his head, glowering at the people around him, and Philza's face flashed with recognition.

"Kill me."

Or... In the middle of Doomsday, Tommy decides to ask Technoblade to be the Lycomedes to his Theseus.

Heavy and dark, but at least Dream gets it.

tomorrow night by meridies

Tommy is desperately searching for his missing brother. Techno is the reluctant psychic who unfortunately got dragged along.

or, two people, more alike than different, learn what it is to have a family at their side.

It's cute what can I say :]

maple syrup by itisjosh

"We could run," Tubbo stares at the sun. "We've got everything we've ever wanted right here. We could run."

"Yeah," Tommy agrees, feeling his head swim. "We could."

(or, tommy and tubbo run away together)

Children get away from toxic adults :)

Why’d it have to be so sunny? (The sun shouldn’t shine without you.) by AToZRainToBe

‘A realisation hits Phil in the face like a truck. “Wi- Ghostbur,” Phil says, turning to his grey-scale, translucent, actually-dead son. “You definitely told Tubbo that Tommy’s alive, right?”’

To get away from Dream, Tommy agrees to fake his death, going with the cover story that he jumped from the pillar in Logstedshire. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Tubbo.

Misunderstandings are one of my favorite tropes.

sugar and ice by princedemeter for Aenqa

“He is my son,” Philza says. “Mortal or not, I would see him grow strong.”

Technoblade looks down on earth, at the tiny, angry bundle of cloth and pinking, wrinkled skin. This mortal child, he thinks, lungs filled with breath from the king of gods himself, will not grow strong.

It's mostly centered around Technoblade and Wilbur with Phil being a shitty dad. Pog Gods AU.

a matter of time by meridies

Tommy is twelve years old when his wings first appear, and he is twelve years old when Phil tells him, "All it takes is time and patience, Tommy, and soon you'll be flying even better than me."

or, Tommy grows up feeling like a failure, and it takes him a while to figure out where he's happiest.

Tommy is just finding his place in the world. Powers AU.

That Time a Baby Decided to Raise a Baby by Scitrust

Tubbo wasn't good at making excuses, so when Schlatt asked him why he was leaving in the night, he made something up on the spot. That had been months ago.

At least he sort of had an alibi for that, now.

Or, in which Tubbo finds a baby in the woods on his way to see Tommy, and promptly adopts it.

Part of a collection!! Read it all.

spider lily by blue000jay

Wilbur has a body.

The freckle on the base of his left pinky finger (shared with Techno). The scar on his chin from when he was twelve and over ambitious, diving into too-shallow water. The scar on his throat from the final control room, and the puckered skin on his shoulder from the poisoned arrow that killed him next. Various other nicks and things that litter his skin from years of rebellion and living wild, a kid thrown into a vicious world with too little self-preservation.

(Resurrection AU, for when/if Wilbur comes back.)

The author knows how it's like to live with chronic pain, and it shows :(

Hands tied loose by rabiddog

"Let's run away, Tubbo." Tommy breathed; a wide grin split across his face as his hope grew. "Let's get out of here – far away. We can go anywhere, can't we? Let's just go, you and me right here, right now."

-

Tommy needs to leave. He has to get out of L'Manburg, he has to leave the Dream SMP for his own sanity, and he wants Tubbo to come with him.

But Tubbo has a family now, a better life - something that he can't give up... not even for his best friend.

Unhappy ending :(

The serpent underneath by rabiddog

Tommy and Techno sit at the memory-filled bench and talk. Technoblade reminisces, he talks, he admits his pent-up feelings, he cries. And Tommy? Tommy listens. (That's all he can do.)

-

“I’m sorry for everything, you know? For all of it. I’m so sorry about... about the first war, about the withers and the fighting, about...” Technoblade's fingers began to curl around Tommy’s blonde locks. “About Wilbur and everything after. I'm so, so sorry.”

:((((((((

Damning choices by rabiddog

Ranboo would have never expected to find himself in a horrifying situation such as that one - quite literally sandwiched between a rock and a hard place, with three lives dangling over his head and the answer on the tip of his tongue.

Tubbo, Michael, Tommy.

It's his choice. He chooses who lives, and who dies. His new family, or his first friend. But Ranboo... Ranboo already knows.

-

"Ranboo," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know- I know..."

:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Jealousy is a disease by rabiddog

Tommyinnit isn't new to the idea of jealousy. He understands it completely. He understands the way it runs rampage through his body each time he catches even a glimpse of Tubbo and Ranboo's new relationship, he understands that the emotion makes his heart clench uncomfortably from time to time. He sees it, feels it, and yet he doesn't care.

He doesn't care at all.

-

"You took Tubbo away from me. You took him away. You took my best friend, and now he's- now he's not my best friend anymore, and I-!"

:)

Word of Honour by rabiddog

Tommy could only stand and stare as Technoblade agreed to hand him over to Dream - as his brother traded him off like he was nothing. Like Tommy wasn't important.

-

Technoblade was a man of honour. He was a man of pride and sticking to his word. He knew that he owed Dream a favour, and no matter what that favour might be, he'd be compliant with it. Nothing would change his mind. (Not even Tommy.)

Almost canon. F.

Sweet Repentance by rabiddog

Perhaps Tommy should have told Phil about his arguably life-threatening injury the minute his father had opened the door. But of course, Tommy being Tommy, did not.

Dying seemed like a nice enough option as long as he was with his family.

-

Tommy just wanted acceptance, forgiveness, and peace. He wanted to close his eyes for the last time and finally be able to let go.

Tommy dies painfully.

A White Tulip by astervoid

He picked the white tulip from the bottom of the stem, standing up carefully as he held it pinched between his fingers. It would die now, inevitably, but Tommy relented and held the flower to his chest. What a silly, stupid thing to ground him. He almost hated that it made his breaths come easier and his steps feel lighter. Almost.

Tommy & Ranbooo chill on the bench.

lying to the authorities (again) by touchgrass

"Please tell me that my right-hand-man, my soon-to-be vice president, one of the people I trust the most on this godforsaken server, did not lie straight to my face and tell me he was twenty-fucking-years-old.”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but then closes it shut at the furious look on Wilbur's face. Oops.

~

It is the day of the elections and Wilbur Soot could not have chosen a worser time to realize that half his staff is underage.

The ONLY fic with this premise I've seen on Ao3.

Dear Theseus by rabiddog

Tommy had thought that they'd won - thought that they'd finally beaten Dream, and that everything would be okay. As it turns out, however, apparently Dream had called in that favour from Technoblade after all.

-

“Please,” Tommy whispered after a beat, quivering hands edged upwards to hesitantly press against the tip of the sword striking through his chest. Why, why, why? Why him? Why now?

Tommy almost wins.

A Shifting World by AplusIsRoman

How was Wilbur supposed to know it would end like this?

The smoke hung in the air and soot clung to his skin. His brother - adopted, but older by two minutes - stood back-to-back with him. The chilling cries of people and the calls of the withers rang through the air above the chasm that was once his home.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

How could he have known this would happen?

-

Sequel to A Child's World

Age-swap AU. Has a prequel.

heart of the sea by RyDyKG

Here is the secret that he barely thinks about, a secret that he shoves deep and far down in himself:

Wilbur Soot is a siren, and he’s not exactly proud of that fact.

Wilbur-centric. Urban Fantasy AU.

He knows, ok? by Ralli

By some means, Techno has given his raccoon younger brother some cotton candy. It doesn’t end as well as either of them would like.

Very, very cute :)

that's it, it's split (it won't recover) by Jk_Kat

Tommy has always been the fighter.

He has never been the fought for, and he knows it, with every whisper Tubbo directs at Ranboo, with every glance thrown his way- Tommy knows, the way he wishes he didn't, that they think he's dead.

If they're so convinced he's still dead, maybe the one good thing left he can do for them is die.

---

Or, Tommy gets addicted to being dead and thinks that nobody cares about him. The people who very much do try to pull him back from the brink before Dream can't resurrect him anymore.

Messed up, but with a happy ending.

Hugs 'n PTSD by rabiddog

Ranboo knew from the start that the recovery process would be hard - that moving on from quite literally being beat to death would be something hugely difficult to step away from, and that's if Tommy could even manage it at all.

He knew that it would be stressful and arduous, demanding and tough... he just hadn't expected to be holding Tommy through a PTSD-induced panic attack only days after his release from Pandora's Vault.

-

Ranboo isn't typically an overbearingly protective person. But for Tommy? He just might be.

I love this author if you can't tell.

Big Men don't cry by Shiny22Snivy

The room is small and warm, almost stifling compared to the cool openness of the ravine. It’s cosy and candlelit, and a chest sits open in the corner, full of what looks to be burnt rags of a former smart suit. And sitting in rumpled blankets on a bed, cradling a mug of something steaming, sits Tubbo.

At first, Tommy forgets all about Niki’s vague warning. He’s just so happy to see his best friend again, alive and well and all in one piece. Tubbo’s okay. Tubbo’s okay, and in front of him, and suddenly everything bad in the world is gone, if only for just a moment.

“Tommy?”

And then Tubbo turns to look at him.

Clingyduo fluff.

sins of the father (i broke all my bones that day i found you) by ryter

The thing that hurt Wilbur most was when he saw Fundy tear down the walls of L'Manburg. After all, those walls had gone up to protect his son. But in this world, Fundy trusts his father just a little bit more, and it ruins him.

Or: there's only one way Wilbur never becomes the villain. It's unclear whether this was the better path.

SOME VIOLENCE WARNINGS/BLOOD MENTION. CHARACTER DEATH. SO MUCH ANGST.

Sad, but cathartic.

REVIVED TOMMY HEADCANNONS AHAHAHAHA by racooninnit

i’m dropping ALL the fucking revived tommy headcannons on you guys today get ready for some ANGST

this is different from what i usually post but it was fun

i don’t think there’s a lot i need to put warnings for, obviously there are mentions of the way tommy died and the aftermath of that (i.e. injuries and trauma), but if there’s anything that needs a warning please tell me!

What it says on the tin- not really a fic.

Unfinished Stories:

Ongoing (Less than a month since the last update):

Over the River Styx by CorpseArt

I feel like we should name him.

There’s a scuffle at the back of his mind as he rolls up, curling tight with a shiver despite the heat of the flames licking up his back.

I mean, he’s like – us, but like a worse version clearly because oh man, this is just weirdness. There’s a flare of a tangle of emotions, complicated and fearful, resentful and livid with anger. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been reduced to, stuck in the mind of this- this child.

He’s like your age, Tommy. Are you calling yourself a child?

I mean, I am one so fucking duh. Child murderer.

-

Or: trauma bonding in the most unconventional of senses.

Just- Read it. Show the writer your support, it's unique, it's amazing and there needs to be more of it.

If history is dead and gone by iregretallmydecisions

“Don’t come any fucking closer,” Tommy shouted, startling Phil into stepping back. Tommy was still looking around wildly, like a trapped animal “Don’t fucking do it.” ---- In which Tommy finds himself faced with his splintered family, while it was still mostly whole. The past is not an easy place to be when the future was not kind. His family is forced to deal with the fall out.

It's better than Rewind, but you didn't hear that from me.

Wilbur Soot's Redemption (OR Ghostbur's Retry) by luckykitty0523

Wilbur had many regrets in his life, being lost in his madness and the urge for revenge drowned leaving a shell of who he once was. It was only in his dying moments that he regained himself but it was already too late for him leaving him drowning in wishes and regrets. However waking up in another different universe where wilbur was never born and family soulmates exist, so when wilbur said he wanted to fix the mistakes he never expected this turn of events.

OR

In one world wilbur dies and he would return as a ghost missing his memory and trying to fix what he did in life but in this one wilbur dies and wakes up in another world where soulmates exist and the wilbur of that world was never born so wilbur/ghostbur takes his place and tries to make up his mistakes to the other version of his friends.

Wilbur adopts SBI + Fundy + Dream.

A Talk Long Overdue by penink

Tommy has his first therapy session with Puffy.

Tommy gets therapy.

Into the Night by Interjection

“Don’t touch me,” Tommy hisses, leaning against the railing. “I will - I will-”

They’re a hundred stories up. Wind lashes against Phil’s face. Next to him, Sam makes choked noise.

“But why?”

Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, terror struck so deep in those pale blue irises Phil thinks they must hold all the world’s fears within them.

“You’ll die,” he whispers. “And then I’ll die. But I’ll come back.”

“And I don’t want to come back.”

Others have the freedom to live. Tommy doesn’t even have the freedom to die.

But maybe they can teach him that living doesn’t have to be so bad.

---

(Superpowers AU where whenever someone touches Tommy, they both die. But Tommy will always come back to life eventually. He just wants it to end - but instead, he’s on the run, terrified of how his power will be exploited if he’s caught.

A few people reluctantly team up to save him.)

Funky SBI dynamics + a Sam that cares. Also a lot of angst.

#dream smp #dream smp fic rec #fic rec #sbi #wilbur soot #tommyinnit

[nevermindirah]

I've been drafting and redrafting this meta post for weeks now. It's about to be 5781 and my country that was founded on settler colonial genocide and slavery and a deeply flawed but fierce attachment to democracy might go full dictatorship in about 6 weeks and it's time for me to post this thing.

All our immortals are warriors, all have been traumatized by war. But only three of them died their first deaths as soldiers in imperial armies. This fandom has already produced gallons of meta on Nicky dealing with his shit, because Joe would not fuck with an unapologetic Crusader. But there's very rich stuff in Booker and Nile's experiences and the parallels and distinctions between them.

Nile was 11 when her dad was killed in action - that was 2005, meaning she and her dad both died in the same war that George W Bush started in very tenuous response to 9/11. Sure, Nile's dad could have died in either Iraq or Afghanistan, or in a training accident or in an off-the-books mission we won't know about for a hundred more years, but he died in the War on Terror all the same. I had to look it up to be sure because Obama "drew down" the Afghanistan war in his second term, but nope, we're still in this fucking thing that never should've happened in the first place. The US war in Afghanistan just turned 19 years old. A lot of real-life Americans have experiences like the Freemans, parents and children both dying in the same war we shouldn't be in.

I know a lot of people like Nile who join the US military not just because it's the only realistic way for them to pay for college or afford decent healthcare, but also because they have a family history of military service that's a genuine source of pride. Military service has been a way for Americans of color to be accepted by white Americans as "true Americans" - from today's Dreamers who Obama promised would earn protection from deportation by enlisting, to Filipino veterans of WW2 earning US citizenship that Congress then denied them for several decades, to slaves "earning" their freedom through service in the Union Army and in the Continental Army before it. As if freedom is a thing one should have to earn. Lots of Black Americans have the last name Freeman for lots of different escaping-slavery reasons, but it's possible that this specific reason is how Nile got her last name.

Dying in a war you know your country chose to instigate unnecessarily and that maybe you believe it shouldn't be waging is a very particular kind of trauma. It is a much deeper trauma when your military service, and your father's, and maybe generations of your ancestors', is a source of pride and access to resources for you but your sacrifice is nearly meaningless to the white supremacist system that deploys you. That kind of cognitive dissonance encourages a person to ignore their own feelings just so they can function. How do you wake up in the morning, how do you risk your life every day, how do you *kill other people* in a war that shouldn't be happening and that you shouldn't have to serve in just so that your country sees you as human?

We see Nile do her best to be a kind and well-mannered invader. Depending on your experience with US imperialism, Nile giving candy to kids and reminding her squad to be respectful is either heartwarming or very disturbing propaganda. We also see Nile clutching her cross necklace and praying. From the second Christianity arrived on this land it's been a tool of white supremacist assimilation and control, but like military service, it's a fucked-up but genuine source of pride and access to resources for many Americans whose pre-Columbian ancestors were not Christian, and it's a powerful source of comfort and resilience. This Jew who's had a lot of Spanish Inquisition nightmares would like to say for the record that it's not Jesus's fault that his big name fans are such shitty people.

Nile is a good person trying to do her best in a fucked-up world. "Her best" just radically changed. Her access to information on just how fucked up the world is has also just radically changed, because everything's so fucked up a person needs a lot of time to learn about it all and not only does she have centuries but she won't have to spend that time worrying about rent and healthcare and taxes, and because she now has Joe and Nicky and Andy's stories, and because she now has Copley's inside scoop on just what the fuck the CIA has been up to. Like, I want a fic where Copley tells Nile what was really behind the brass's decisions that led to her experiences on the ground in Afghanistan, that led to her father's death, but also I Do Not Want That.

Nile was 19 when Alicia Garza posted on Facebook that Black Lives Matter. She grew up in Chicago well before white people on Twitter were saying maybe police violence against Black people is a problem. She knows this is a deeply fucked up country, and she put on her Marine uniform and deployed with her team of mostly fellow women of color, and maybe she and Dizzy and Jay marched in the streets between deployments, maybe they texted each other when a white manarchist at a protest sneered at one of them for being a Marine. Nile's been busy surviving, and she knows some shit and she's seen some shit but she hasn't had much time to think about what it all means. Now she's got time. And Joe, Nicky, and Andy are willing to listen. (Is Copley willing to listen? I could see that going either way.)

Booker might also be willing to listen. The brilliant idea of cleaning up the rat Frenchman so that Nile can have millennia of emotional support and orgasms sent me down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, and holy shit do Booker and Nile have a lot of shared life experience as pawns of imperial wars. Obviously Booker is white and a man and that makes a very big difference. (Though G-d help me, Booker could be Jewish and France was knocking its Jews around like ping-pong balls in the 18th-19th centuries. Jewish Booker wouldn't make him any less white but it does add a shit ton of depth of common experience: military service as a way for your country to see you as a full member of society who matters, because who you are means that's not guaranteed.)

Booker was hanged for desertion from the army Napoleon sent to invade Russia as part of his quest to control all of Europe. We learn in the comics / this YouTube video that Booker was on his way to prison for forgery when he was offered military service instead of jail time. While we don't know how he felt about the choice beyond that he did choose soldier over inmate, it's unlikely he thought invading Russia was a great idea, given he tried to desert because Napoleon like a true imperialist dumbass didn't plan for how he was going to feed his army or keep them from freezing to death in fucking Russian winter.

I find it very interesting that the French Empire was at its largest right before invading Russia and fell apart completely within a few years. My country has been falling the fuck apart for a while now - see aforementioned War on Terror, growing extremes of economic stratification in the richest country in the world, abject refusal to meaningfully deal with climate change that US-based corporations hold the lion's share of blame for - but between Trump's abject refusal to meaningfully deal with the coronavirus and strong likelihood that he'll refuse to leave office even if a certain pathetic moderate I will hold my nose and vote for does manage to earn a majority of votes, ~y~i~k~e~s.

Our only immortals who have never known a world before modernity and nationalism happen to have been born of wars that were the beginning of the end for the imperialist democracies that raised them, and I think in the centuries to come that's going to give them some very interesting shit to talk about.

Nile's a Young Millennial, a digital native born in the United States after the collapse of the USSR left her country as the world's only superpower. She's used to a pace of technological change that human brains are not evolved to handle.

Napoleon trying to make all of Europe into the French Empire was a leading cause of the growth of European nationalism and the establishment of liberal democracies both in Europe and in many places that Europeans had colonized. Booker's first war produced the only geopolitical world order Nile has ever known and I just have so many feelings ok. Nile the art history nerd is probably not aware of this, and why would she be? This humble meta author is, like Nile, a product of US public schools, and all they taught me about world history was Ancient Greece/Rome/Egypt/Mesopotamia and then World War 2. Being raised in The World's Only Superpower is WEIRD.

Nile the Young Millennial is used to the devastating volume of bad news the internet makes possible. But she has absolutely no concept of a world where the United States of America is not The World's Only Superpower. In order to get up in the morning and put on her gear and point guns at civilians in Afghanistan, she can only let herself think so much about whether that American exceptionalism thing is a good idea.

She's about to spend many, many years where the only people who she can truly trust are people who are older than not only her country but the IDEA of countries.

She's got time, and she's got a lot of new information at her disposal. But there comes a point where my obsession with her friendship and eventual very hot sex life with Booker just isn't about sex at all. Nile needs someone to talk to about the United States who Gets It. Booker the rat Frenchman coerced into Napoleon's army, and Copley the Black dual citizen of the US and UK who's retired from a CIA career that he half understands as deeply problematic but half still believes in hence his mind-bogglingly stupid partnership with Merrick, are the only people on the planet Nile can talk to honestly about, and really be understood in, all the thoughts and feelings and fears and hopes of her experience as a US Marine.

And one more thing before I go get ready for Rosh Hashanah: Orientalism was a defining element of the Crusades and that legacy is painfully clear in current US-led Western military activity in Afghanistan, Syria, Israel/Palestine, you name it. Turns out memoirs by French veterans of the Napoleonic Wars are full of Orientalist language about Russia as well. I am maybe/definitely writing a fic where Booker spends his exile reading critical race theory and decolonial feminism and trauma studies monographs because he can't be honest with a therapist but maybe he can heal this way and become the team therapist his own damn self. I just really need him to read Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and then go down on Nile, ok?

#nile freeman #tog meta #book of nile #sebastien le livre #the old guard #mine #us imperialism #european imperialism #jewish things #antiblackness #police violence #orientalism

[s-creations]

Return the Flames - Chapter 9

All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The  Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if  angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was  told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No  possible loss of anything from an open flame.

A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.

It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.

Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.

_________________

Fandom: A Hat in Time       Rating: General Audience       Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves     Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).

If Dominic wasn’t absolutely sick with worry, he would be enjoying the view. 

He had been led away from the medical hut, the Elder leading the way out of the village and up a well worn path. One that was leading up into the surrounding rocky hills filled with vibrant jungle foliage. Allowing a good view of both the village, and the rest of the expansive jungle. The mountain could just barely be seen from the heavy fog. They traveled until they were surveying the entire village in the valley it was resting in.

“Why not take a seat, dear friend.” The Elder had claimed a seat on a rather smooth rock, his staff leaning nearby as he relaxed.

“...We’re rather far from your village.”

“I understand your worries. I can only assume with what you’ve seen and experienced on your journey that would put you on the defensive to any stranger. But I assure you, the Child of Pure Fire is more than safe here. As are you.”

“The...Child of Pure Fire?” Dominic’s eyes looked down at the Elder’s hand. Which was casually patting the area next to him. The penguin sighed and did as was silently asked of him.

“It is how we refer to all children who are directly tied to the Celestial Phoenix.” The Elder answered after Dominic settled down.

“So...you know who Amos is.”

“Very much so. With his unique physical characteristics, it was hard not to figure out.”

“I suppose so.”

“My village and those surrounding this mountain hold ancestors who learned and grew from the Celestial Phoenix’s fire. We know those children of the Phoenix.”

“So, wait, are you not a child of the flame thing as well?”

The Elder laughed softly. “Our ancestors may have been. But we have long since lost the flame that connects us directly to him.”

“It must be an interesting feeling to know you’re related, in someway, to such a being.”

“Well, how do you feel about it?”

Dominic raised a brow at that. “I’m...not sure I understand.”

“We have the belief that the Celestial Phoenix is connected to all living beings.”

“But I’m a Moon Penguin. You know...ice? I’m pretty sure I would know fairly quickly if I held a Phoenix flame.”

“I’m sorry child, I was not speaking in such a literal way. It’s more of the idea that the Phoenix gives that needed spark for life to begin. So, in some way, we are all connected to the celestial being. As he is needed for us to live.”

“I suppose that makes some sort of sense.” 

“Indeed.”

“Would those Fire Spirits in the Subcon Woods be direct descendants of this Phoenix?” Dominic asked, leaning forward with interest.

“I believe so,” the Elder nodded, “They do hold similar features as your companion.”

“Huh...I suppose they do.”

“Speaking of your companion. I am to assume you are here to reach the peak of Starlight Mountain.”

“Yes. The flame Amos carries has been burning hotter each day, more than what he can handle sometimes. He...He said there’s something here that will help him.”

“He is correct. But I would like to add, he doesn’t seem to have the uncontrollable flame that you seem so worried about.”

“To be fair to him, Amos is not awake at the moment.”

The Elder laughed. “While that is a fair point, even passed out the host of a flame can be harmful. Your Amos seems to be more in pain by whatever has been put into him than the flame itself.”

Dominic flushed, feeling his feathers puff out. “I- My Amos? I just… W-We’re just- We’re both directors, we share the same studio. Funny story about that. B-But we are not…”

“Oh, my apologies. I was merely assuming after watching you bring the Child to us, you two were together.”

“I mean, I’m just worried about my...my friend.”

“I was speaking more on behalf of your friend. Creatures of fire, when in peril, will attack. Even if unconscious. Unless they know they’re with someone they truly feel safe with.”

Dominic swears his face was burning hotter than anything Amos’ fire could do. “That can just be the reliance of a friend as well.”

“...I suppose you’re right.”

“Look, can you just answer something for me.”

“Of course.”

“This...whatever is at the peak that we’ve been trying to reach. It will help Amos, right?”

The Elder sighed softly. Which didn’t calm Dominic’s frazzled nerves. “In truth, it’s all dependent on your friend.”

“What...does that mean?”

“If your friend has a strong enough will, then he’ll continue to live.”

“I- but- no!” Dominic stood, “You can’t tell me that this entire trip was for nothing! This was supposed to help him. Heal him.”

“This is not something that can be controlled or changed by me or you. If you want him to live, you will need to put faith in your friend.”

“Put faith in a bird who only stopped doing dangerous, life-threatening stunts? Who, I’m sure, was only doing this as a way to possibly get himself ‘accidentally’ killed. Or, would you rather I put faith in the owl that has been drinking himself to death for who knows how long? Or how about the version of Amos that works so hard for so long that he will pass out for 10 hours straight? Which version do you want to put your faith into?”

The Elder didn’t reply, merely stared at the penguin’s shaking form. Dominic, on his part, was absolutely sick with fear. This was all supposed to be a journey to get Amos healed. That was the goal. Now, being told this was all reliant on the owl’s self-esteem, Dominic felt as if he’d already lost Amos.

“I...can’t lose him… Please tell me there is something I can do.”

“Perhaps you will be his beacon to remain.”

Dominic laughed weakly. “Me? I’ve been his rival for years. Sure, we didn’t kill each other on this trip. But he doesn’t need me. He...He has his family.”

“Yet you just listed off his dangerous activities. Wouldn’t he be happy if you assumed his family would be enough to keep him here.”

“I… Whatelse could I add to his life?”

“Everyone can offer their needed points in other’s lives.”

“I would not be the one he would need for that. At least, not the point to keep him happy. I have my own problems… I’m not meant to be ‘helpful’. I’m not built like that.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Dominic laughed bitterly. “Would you like to ask the number of beings who kept my bed warm until morning came? I’m a good distraction, not a relationship.”

“To build a relationship, it requires two or more to make it strong. It must also start with knowing you want to pursue something. Do you want that?”

“...I do.”

“With him?”

Did he? Did he really want to stay with someone who he’s carried a rivalry with for so long? The person he’s hurled insults to from across the studio floor? Someone who the penguin constantly tried to impress with his own showcase his own story telling skills. An internal battle to not back down and to hope this feud would end so they could create something together.

Dominic frowned as he crossed his arms, suddenly feeling small. “...I do. He has that spark that I haven’t seen in others. It's so admirable. He’s admirable. He’s honestly my drive to make such amazing things. I want to impress him. When we were younger, it was to show him I was better. Now...I really just want him to look at me…”

“That is something worth pursuing.”

They turned back to the village when a loud call was heard coming from the medical hut. A few healers fled from said place as the shouting continued.

“It seems as if your ‘friend’ is awake,” the Elder commented as he stood, “Shall we go check on him?”

“Yes, preferably before he hurts himself or anyone.”

Dominic rushed back down the hillside, slightly worried that the Elder felt the need to take his time hobbling after, and entered the hut. To find Amos standing on the bed he’d no doubt been resting on a few minutes before. The owl yelling furiously while holding a stool above his head like a weapon.

“And if someone doesn’t start talkin’, I’ll be whackin’ yer head off yer peck necks one by one!”

“Amos!” 

The owl was startled, attention going to the agitated penguin standing by the doorway. The stool was promptly dropped. Amos wobbly climbing off the bed and over to Dominic. “Yer okay…”

“What are you doing? Threatening these poor people who’ve been helping us. Why would you- whoa!” Dominic scrambled to collect Amos, who’s legs apparently stopped working. The penguin slowly lowering them to the floor. Amos desperately clinging to the other, his forehead resting on Dominic’s shoulder. 

“Whoa. Easy Sweetheart, just try and take it easy.”

“Yer okay…” Was Amos’ weakly muttered response. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. You were the one who was hit with a weird drug.”

“Yer okay…”

Dominic frowned, looking up to the remaining nomads who had inched out from the corner they’d been hiding in. “Is he okay?”

“Ah, Phoenix… Very dizzy.” Was the reply.

“Dizzy...from the drug?”

The nomad nodded before patting his chest. “Fire...blocked.”

“Blocked? Oh Amos… Let’s get you back to bed Sweetheart.” Dominic was thankful the owl was so light. Hollow bones were such a blessing in disguise at this moment. Amos started to panic again when he was placed back on the bed and Dominic pulled away. The penguin quickly corrected the action by taking Amos’ hands  “No, no, no, you’re alright. I’m right here, I won’t be leaving you.”

That seemed to calm Amos enough to allow him to relax, completely passed out in the next second. Dominic let out a weak sigh, giving a small thanks when a chair was passed to him, more or less collapsing into it. There was the familiar tapping sound drawing closer to the hut that announced the Elder’s arrival. A quiet conversation was held between him and the healer nomads before joining the penguin by the bed. 

“I’ve been informed that your friend had a bit of an episode when he woke.”

“They said his flame had been ‘blocked’.” Dominic voiced weakly, which the Elder merely nodded in agreement to. 

“Whatever was injected into him was able to extinguish it to a dangerous degree. Not enough to kill. But just enough to subdue. It’s his mortal side that is keeping him alive. I don’t know who has been hunting you. But they are knowledgeable and dangerous if they know how to take down a Phoenix.”

“He’ll be alright though, right?” The penguin desperately asked. 

“He woke up and threatened my people. I believe he will be just fine.”

“I-I am so sorry about that.”

The Elder laughed softly and waved his hand. “Please, do not worry yourself. He was not coordinated enough to harm anyone. Plus, with the situation he just left only to wake in a strange place, it was a reasonable reaction.”

Dominic let out another sigh, cradling his head in a hand. “Oh Amos…”

“I will tell you, he will be awake by tomorrow. Fairing much better than a few moments ago.”

“How far away are we from the mountain?”

“A day or two by walking. It would be best to make your entrance as quiet as possible. I will send word of your arrival. We have nomads living at the base who will be able to take you to the peak.”

“Right, yes, thank you.” Dominic flinched slightly when a hand was rested on his shoulder. 

“I will ask that you take tomorrow, all of tomorrow, to rest.” 

“W-We don’t have time.”

“Your friend is in no danger, his fire is contained. Give those terrible birds a bit of a slip. Get a chance to breathe. You both need a full day's rest after this.”

“I...don’t wish to impose.”

The Elder smiled. “I am making the offer. You have been welcomed here. We can have a feast even! A celebration of the Child’s return. Please, let yourself recover before facing the next great hurtle.” 

Dominic didn’t answer right away. He looked back up to Amos’ sleeping form. Reaching out to preen a few stray feathers before putting a hand back between both of his. Dominic smiled softly as Amos unconsciously squeezed back.

“Okay… Let’s have a feast.”

#A Hat In Time #discotrain #the conductor #dj grooves #s-creations #fanfiction #ahit conductor #ahit dj grooves #Multi-Chapter

[jyndor]

(Imperialism etc anon) Ok I get where you're coming from! Thank you for being understanding. While Zutara is obviously not inherently racist or anything there are zutara interpretations that *are* racist (example: fire lady katara which I can get into) and it does need to be acknowledged that Zuko's status as fire nation royalty does create a power imbalance between him and Katara. Now, this is a conversation that has a lot of nuance to it but it seems like the people harassing you are (1/2)

(2/2) just repeating some genuine critique they saw without understanding what it means just to say that they're right, harassing people in the process. I did not have that context when sending that first ask and I apologize, since anons harassing you and others are clearly doing it out of bad faith. I just didn't like the leveraging of concepts that really matter in real life (colonialism, etc), ykwim? But I get what you were trying to do.

hey anon I’m finally getting to you after 84 years XD

so first off, I want to be careful about how I approach this because I understand that as a white person (even if my ancestors experienced imperialism) in the US I absolutely benefit from imperialism and don’t want to like, idk, whitesplain XD so if anyone gets annoyed with any way I say anything, just lmk and I’ll rework it. and I also do understand that these are real world issues that are far more consequential than messaging in media (although I do think it’s very important that we challenge messages in media because of media’s influence on our thinking and politics).

but before I talk about zuko and his relationship to fire nation imperialism, and then later fire lady katara and why it isn’t INHERENTLY racist but definitely can be, I want to talk about the atla fandom and how we got here. like, why I assume that most anons who come at zutara shippers are asshats acting in bad faith. if you already know fandom history, skip this section.

1. atla and the fandom has always been kind of shitty and racist

so IDK if everyone is familiar with the history of the ship war in atla fandom, but it’s regarded as one of the nastiest ship wars in fandom history which I agree lol. atla’s creators were some of the first to interact with the fandom the way they did - back then it wasn’t all that common for creators to get into twitter feuds with fans and boundaries were respected more than they are now imo. but for better or worse, and it is a mixed bag, bryke interacted with fandom a lot. certainly at cons but also on social media.

but honestly things really got extra mean in fan spaces when bryke made a “joke” atla season 4 slideshow out of fan art (some of which was really sexual in nature and totally inappropriate) that mocked fans’ creations, but especially zutara fanart and zutara itself. it was pretty tasteless especially considering how most zutara fans were teen girls, and featured some art of sokka saying that if you think zuko and katara would be good together, you’re doomed to have failed relationships. that’s where the whole “dark and mysterious” bs came from, which does describe some zutara fic but not even most of it lol. I actually do respect bryke a lot despite my criticism of them, but I don’t think I’ll ever get over that shit. like even if you hate zutara, even if it’s a joke, we were kids. and they were adults, and the whole thing was nasty.

however, the ship war was chaotic and messy, but it does feel worse now. maybe it’s because back then the fandom was MOSTLY teens and kids, and I don’t think that’s true now. we were all trying to prove our ship was best with like, content from the show and theories and all that, and now it’s like... whose ship is ~problematic lol it’s a show by white us americans appropriating from various cultures impacted negatively by us/british imperialism that they then profited off of, of course it’s racist. that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t talk about that, and in fact many poc have been saying this shit for years - that atla is racist and colorist at many times (guru pathik anyone?) and no one really listened.

if fans are complaining only about zutara, then I’m automatically writing them off as being insincere or ignorant. and since most of these people are anonymous, I have no idea if they are having substantive discourse about colorism in avatar or cultural appropriation (even if it is mostly appreciative). if you are on anon, I have no context about what you actually think except for what you give me. and that definitely is how I view anons in general but especially within the atla fandom because for all 13-ish years I’ve been in it, it’s been messy. that’s why zutara fans have isolated ourselves from the rest of fandom, because the rest of fandom has been really nasty to us. like did we give back some nastiness? absolutely.

but I would hazard a guess that most anti-zutara shippers don’t know about the conversations we have had in this community to make it safer for people of color, conversations that centered poc and woc especially. hey, that’s okay - not to compare zutara to r*ylo because eurgh but like, idk what discourse the r*ylos have about their community. no idea, I don’t go looking for it. and I don’t go to the tags and harass r*ylos - even though they harass the fuck out of everyone else.

2. so zuko and his privilege

undoubtedly zuko as fire lord is in a fairly privileged position LMFAO. but during the show zuko is very clearly exiled - he holds very little political power in the fire nation EXCEPT for during the first season when he is in command of a ship that ozai gave him on a punishment quest lol like yeah he does terrible things and he of all people would not excuse his actions even if he was a traumatized kid, that’s the point of his arc - that he got some exposure to the rest of the world and worked to be better. and the only reason he was exiled at all was because he cares about people - he didn’t question fire nation supremacy at 13, but he sure did question the morality of his people being lead to slaughter.

but after zuko and iroh defect from the fire nation and stop hunting aang, he has next to no power, in any kind of way. like the guy is a political refugee. and yes, he goes back to the fire nation for like five minutes before realizing that he hates everything about fire nation hegemony and that he wants to end his father’s reign of terror, like that isn’t exactly someone who is going to be well esteemed by the powerful elites when he returns and takes the throne.

and I disregard the comics because they suck lol but zuko does have power as the fire lord, but he limits his power. like compared to ozai, phoenix asshole? azula? for the rest of the world, zuko is kind of an ideal leader for a former colonizing/imperialistic nation to have - someone who worked to end that tyranny, who is anti-imperialist, who believes in justice and equality, who wants to make things right for the peoples who his family oppressed.

I do think it is important to talk about power dynamics and imbalances in relationships - for instance, one could argue that mai is at a significant disadvantage in her relationship with zuko. sure she is from a powerful family but not as powerful as zuko’s. sokka? hah forget it. he’s just as disadvantaged as katara is politically speaking. toph? well, she’s definitely not as powerful politically as zuko - her family tried to silence her for years because of her disability. and oh, she’s disabled so it might be ableist for zuko to strike up a relationship with her when they’re both adults. forgetting of course that toph and sokka and katara and suki and mai are not going to be shy about their wants and needs, that these relationships are not likely to be coercive by nature of the show they’re in and the characters they involve. this is not bill clinton with monica creepiness. like, you’d have to write the relationship that way.

the only person who arguably has more political power than zuko is aang. I guess zuko can’t ever be in a relationship with anyone other than aang. and zuko’s family massacred aang’s people so I guess we can’t ship zukaang. now I know you’re not saying that, context matters. power dynamics are important. but you can’t take away the agency of characters - katara, who is essentially a princess, has agency and can choose who she wants to be with. strictly speaking, aang is more powerful than anyone in terms of political power - he’s the avatar - and of course the dynamic is different by nature of aang not being from a line of oppressors, but there still is a power imbalance in their relationship. and I don’t know how many k/ataang shippers have discourse~ on that. not that I really feel like they NEED to, um idk what they talk about lol I’m not in those circles.

3. fire lady katara is in the eye of the beholder

so fire lady katara is not inherently bad or racist, it’s essentially like saying michelle obama shouldn’t have been first lady of the us (now I get that like the obamas being in power didn’t mean black people are not marginalized lol). you can have conversations about whether or not individual versions of fire lady katara are fucked up, and I’m superrrr open to that because I’ve seen it be kinda shitty before. i’m just gonna leave this link to @shewhotellsstories and her post on this.

but often times katara as fire lady is very dominant in global/fire nation/water tribe politics, she’s a game changer ambassador (that is probably the most popular headcanon I see), she holds on to her culture (and many fans have designed her being in her wt colors, zuko is respectful af to her, she and zuko spend extended periods in the swt, etc. like... it just depends on the way it’s written.

also leaving this response by @avatarnerdkiller to the idea of katara being a prize figurehead.

anyway, thanks for your patience anon and I am curious to see if you see this or even feel like responding after all this time XD

#atla #petty fandom drama #zutara fandom #zutara #fire lady katara #discourse sigh #racism #fandom racism #asks #anonymous

[mist-chance]

JJK Chapter 137

This is going up a bit late, but I wanted to post my thoughts on Chapter 137 before I get around to reading Chapter 138.

This chapter, which reads as Part 1 of the Shibuya Incident Aftermath, is really interesting because it shows what the state of the jujutsu world – and the non-jujutsu world of Japan – is outside of Shibuya. When there’s a lot of action going on, like the kind that’s been happening for the past year or so worth of chapters, it’s easy to get tunnel vision and focus only on the main cast. So it’s nice that we get some context as to what’s happening outside of Shibuya.

1) Dystopia abound.

We already got a hint of how the non-jujutsu world is affected by an influx of cursed spirits during the action part of the Shibuya Incident, within the contained space of the curtain surrounding Shibuya. Now we learn that other locations in Japan are being affected as well: the state of the government is unknown, there are concerns of how Japan’s political and commercial infrastructure will hold up to this massive shift in reality (and how other countries will view and react to these changes), people are evacuating affected cities, and an important question has arisen as a result of the Shibuya Incident – should the non-jujutsu world, the normal world, become aware of the existence of curses?

This question is important, because it seems Fake-Geto (I know the curse user possessing Geto’s body is Kamo Noritoshi the ancestor, but Fake-Geto is easier to use) is dead set on bringing back a world where powerful cursed spirits held the most influence in the world. It’ll be interesting to see whether or not cursed spirits and the jujutsu world at large become common knowledge to non-jujutsu sorcerers, and how the world will change as a result of either one of these decisions.

2) Yuta appears!

This is his first appearance since Volume 0 (the prequel volume). He pretty much looks the same to me, though his face looks a bit more mature and his hair is longer. He’s still awkward around others – even children – though he looks pretty confident when dealing with the elders at Jujutsu Headquarters. 

Here, Yuta seems to be gearing up for a rampage/epic beatdown similar to the one in Volume 0, after Geto took down his friends. Yuta’s pretty similar to Gojo in that he has the capability to pull of a deus ex machina during a time of crisis; he can evolve at an extraordinary rate and pull off impossible feats. (Gojo himself has mentioned that Yuta has the potential to become just as strong as him.)

So in JJK there are two god-like characters: Gojo Satoru, the self-proclaimed but probably-really-is the strongest sorcerer in the world, and Okkotsu Yuta, who’s on his way to being as strong as Gojo. The reason the Shibuya Incident had such devastating consequences is because Gojo was sealed away early on, and Yuta was supposedly still out of the country. Making these two god-like characters unavailable allowed for the struggles and losses in this arc to happen, and gave characters like our main trio the opportunity to grow.

What’s interesting in the aftermath of the Shibuya Incident is that we’re still down Gojo, but we’ve gained Yuta. And Yuta seems to be currently under the influence of the elders at Jujutsu Headquarters – or rather, they’re taking advantage of his need for vengeance and Yuta’s letting them manipulate him – whereas Gojo has always opposed their authority. (When Gojo killed Geto, I doubt he did it because the elders issued a kill-order on Geto. He most likely did it because Geto was dangerous, and Gojo knew the only way to stop him was to kill him.)

As of this chapter, the elders seem reluctant to trust Yuta. But for now, they have a Special Grade Sorcerer to do their bidding.

3) The elders at Jujutsu Headquarters and their plan of action.

This chapter again shows how black and white the current authority of the jujutsu world – the elders at Jujutsu Headquarters (I believe they’re all unidentified except for Gakuganji Yoshinobu) – are, and how desperate they are to maintain their conservative, straightforward vision of how the jujutsu world and the non-jujutsu worlds should be.

It’s hard to tell how much information Jujutsu Headquarters is operating on, based on the orders they’ve issues.

Order 1: We know the elders know that Geto is “alive.” However, it’s unclear whether or not they know that Geto isn’t the real Geto, but a curse user possessing his body. In any case, they want him killed again.

Order 2: We know the elders know Gojo is sealed, since originally, during the Shibuya Incident, the order was to free Gojo Satoru. (This may not have been an official Headquarters order; both the College and Kyoto group may’ve only been acting on Mechamaru’s info.)

This new order calls for Gojo’s continued imprisonment. It’s reasonable for the elders to be suspicious of Gojo (someone who’s always opposing their authority) to be Geto’s accomplice – especially since they were best friends  – so this order is understandable. 

But there’s a fine line between the elders wanting to keep Gojo sealed because they believe he’s a traitor, and wanting to keep him sealed away because it keeps him from interfering with their agenda.

Order 3: This order is absolutely ridiculous, on par with the idea of Absolute Justice in One Piece – the idea or reasoning that, because Geto and Gojo were his students, Yaga is responsible for the decisions they made and continue to make as adults. 

The elders didn’t hold this against Yaga when Geto (real Geto) defected and became a curse user. The difference between then and now is that Gojo is being treated as an accomplice to a curse user. So the goal of this order might be to punish Yaga for producing two traitorous students, or his execution is a way to justify Gojo’s continued imprisonment. The reasoning for the latter option, if we consider the dark, manipulative elders route instead of the ignorant, misinformed one, could be that, to justify that Gojo’s crime is bad enough to warrant being sealed for eternity, his former teacher is also culpable, and the only punishment worthy of his crime is death.

Order 4: Reinstating Yuji’s execution order is expected, given Gakuganji’s previous manipulations during the Kyoto Exchange Arc. 

Order 5: This order, for Yuta to be Yuji’s executioner, is also expected. Yuta is currently the only Special Grade (who hasn’t gone rogue) to not have a relationship or any interaction with Yuji; and, given Yuta’s desire to keep his friends safe, Yuji already has a point against him for what he did to Inumaki – even if it was technically Sukuna’s fault.

What might happen next?

There are two ways of thinking the elders could be operating under. One, they’re operating on incomplete information (mainly, not knowing Kamo Noritoshi the ancestor is possessing Geto’s body, which could potentially make Orders 2 and 3 void); or two, the elders do have all the information, and they’re trying to keep Gojo sealed away for their own benefit. With Gojo out of the way, the elders have no one (powerful enough, anyways) to oppose their authority, and they can shape both the jujutsu world and the non-jujutsu world as they please.

[Their order of keeping Gojo sealed is probably the one they’ll regret the earliest. It’s stated in one of the earlier chapters that curses grew in strength because a being of Gojo Satoru’s strength was born into the world. Cursed spirits grew stronger simply as a matter of evolution, the prey evolving to better counter the predator that would hunt them down. 

And while there are several talented sorcerers still active to fight the sudden influx of powerful cursed spirits, and several sorcerers-in-training who can step up to joint the fight, the Shibuya Incident also took talented sorcerers like Nanami. Gojo was very much a large-scale, heavy-hitter fighter, capable of taking down several curses at once with little effort. Without him around, it’ll  be harder for sorcerers to operate. It’ll definitely give Fake-Geto all the time he needs to enact his plans, since the sorcerers will be too busy fighting curses to figure out his endgame.]

Then there’s the question of how much Yuta knows about each order. Like the elders, Yuta is either ignorant of one or more of the orders (as in, he doesn’t know that Gojo is supposed to stay sealed, or that unsealing him is a criminal act; or that Yaga, Panda’s creator/guardian, is slated for execution), or he knows all of the orders and is choosing to ignore the ones that don’t give him permission to take out Yuji. Either mindset could lead to interesting future conflicts, but I think it’s more likely that Yuta doesn’t know all of the orders. Based on my read of him from Volume 0, he isn’t the type to go for extreme measures unless his friends are hurt.

It also looks like Yuta’s goal of executing Yuji can go two ways. Either he tries killing Yuji and ends up fighting Sukuna, or he tries killing Yuji and his friends (mainly Maki and Panda, if Inumaki’s still out of commission) stop him and beat some sense into him. It’s possible, of course, that the feelings of Yuji’s previous allies/friends may have changed over the course of the Shibuya Incident, because of the damage Sukuna caused while fighting Jogo (e.g. Kusakabe. The difference with Kusakabe, though, is that he was indifferent to Yuji’s existence as Sukuna’s host until the mass destruction in Shibuya. He also, to my knowledge, has never met Yuji.)

But that seems doubtful for the second years, since Panda still seems fine with Yuji, and I can’t see Inumaki and Maki disagreeing with him. And even if they aren’t, Yaga’s technically in the same boat as Yuji, and it’s unlikely Panda, Inumaki, and Maki would act against him. If Yaga continues to stick up for Yuji, they would most likely follow his lead. Megumi I’m sure will still be on Yuji’s side, as will Nobara (please, please let her be okay.). 

As for Yuji and Yaga... I can’t imagine Yaga trying to run off to avoid execution. He’s more of the type to make a stand. I could see him encouraging Yuji to escape though, and serving as a distraction until Yuji’s escaped far enough.

I’m really excited to see where Chapter 138 will take us!

[Source of all screenshots: VIZ Media]

#Jujutsu Kaisen #JJK #Chapter 137 #Okkotsu Yuta #Manga #Chapter 137 Breakdown #Speculations #My Thoughts

[buckyodinson]

Forbidden (Mandalorian x Reader)

Request from @londelle​ : Reader is a jedi who ends up joining Mando. They didn't get along at first because of the Mandalorian and Jedi conflict, but eventually they fall for each other, and it's after the reader saves Din. It freaks them both out about their feelings.

A/N: Thank you for requesting! This is set during the first few episode of the season, I struggled a little to find a place that it would fit (I rewrote this like 3 times trying to find the best way to fit the story together), so there’s a little divergence from the actual episodes themselves. I hope you enjoy! As always, feedback (good or bad) is appreciated!!

Word Count: 2k

Much like the Mandalorian, you traveled the galaxy looking for jobs. Whatever you could get your hands and were paid well for, you were happy to commit to for a while, before moving to another town, another planet, another system. You’d worked in cantinas, you’d worked in casinos, and even briefly as a Queen’s aide on a remote planet you’d already forgotten the name of.

Currently though, you were on Arvala-7, helping Kuill on his moisture farm. It was pretty easy work, and he paid you well. It was the longest you’d kept a job in recent years, and you weren’t rushing to move on anytime soon. You were very helpful to have around the moisture farm, as Kuill had discovered very soon after hiring you. Jawas were a known nuisance on Arvala-7, especially in the areas surrounding Kuill’s farm. One night, you awoke suddenly, hyper-aware something was wrong, and when you ran outside, you saw a Jawa ship, and a group of Jawas attempting to steal one of the farm’s vaporators. You held out an arm, took a deep breath and channeled all your energy, and struck the Jawas with a large wooden beam you’d been using to build a pen for Kuiil’s blurgs. 

The Jawas scarpered after that, seemingly terrified, and had yet to return to the farm. Kuiil was extremely grateful, and in awe at watching your power. He had been stunned when you admitted you were a Jedi, recalling the stories he read as a child, in disbelief that he had a Jedi working for him. That night, you dug through all your belongings to show him your lightsaber, which you hadn’t touched, or even looked at, in years. It was a dangerous living in recent times, so you kept your powers to yourself unless absolutely necessary.

Fast forward to a year later, and you’re still working on Kuill’s farm. Throughout your time there, many mercenaries and bounty hunters have come and gone, most seemingly unsuccessful in their endeavours. Kuiil offers to help where he can, lending them a blurg if they need it, or simply pointing them in the right direction.

You’re sure rumours of a Jedi floating about in the bounty hunter community would do no good, and Kuill was very good at keeping your secret. When a Mandalorian turned up at the farm with Kuill, however, you knew your history could definitely not be brought up. There is a long history of hostility between the Jedi and the Mandalorians, and you wanted no part in furthering the conflict. But when Kuiil was offering to take the Mandalorian part way to his bounty, he offhandedly mentioned how you should travel with him the whole way because of how skilled you were, which was likely due to your force-sensitivity. Kuiil immediately realised his mistake, but it was too late. The Mandalorian’s posture shifted, and he told Kuill that you were not to join them.

Kuill, a true gentleman, and advocate for your skill, refused to help unless you came with him, and the Mandalorian eventually caved. You proved immense help when he was locating the Child. You were covering him at the compound, while he and the IG droid attempted to break into it and capture the bounty. The Mandalorian had given you a gun, and you were supposed to stay back and shoot from a distance, but you realised there were too may Nikto mercenaries, and you were admittedly a bad shot, so you joined the field. The mercenaries were pretty distracted once they witnessed you walk into the entrance, lightsaber drawn. This allows the Mandalorian and the IG unit to enter the compound and collect the bounty.

You’d made light work of killing all the mercenaries, and was about to sit for a minute’s rest when you heard a blaster shot. Assuming the droid had betrayed the Mandalorian, you burst into the room, lightsaber in hand, ready to strike it down. You were met, however, by The Mandalorian staring into a crib. You holstered your lightsaber and moved to his side, peering into the crib, where your eyes met those of a small creature. The Mandalorian reached a hand out to it, and it raised one of it’s own in response. You studied the creature, a vague sense of recognition stirred somewhere deep in your mind, but you couldn’t place the feeling. 

Knowing others would come, the Mandalorian closed the crib, and the pair of you left the compound with it, starting your long journey back to the farm. Mando was quietly impressed underneath his helmet when he saw the scene you’d left behind after you’d joined the fight. He thought that perhaps Jedi aren’t as bad as they’re made out to be. After all, why would one help him, after all the conflict their two kinds had gone through?

He questions the Jedi again, when he’s faced with a Mudhorn. You’re about to use the force to try and hold the creature off, but you’re beaten to it by the small creature in the crib. You gawk in amazement at the raw power it possess, giving the Mandalorian a chance to kill the Mudhorn. You run over to him and give him a hand up, and he seems dazed.

“The Child has the force. Like me.” you marvel, and he turns to look at you.

“You mean that thing is a Jedi?” he asks incredulously.

“It would seem so. I assume it is untrained, because of it’s age, but I’ve never seen such power, especially from one so young.” 

He looks down into the crib, where the Child is now sleeping, and for the second time in a few days, he’s wondering if the Jedi are truly his enemy.

After all this, you decide to move on from Kuiil’s farm, knowing news of a Jedi in these parts would reach unfriendly ears, and the Mandalorian offers to fly you to Nevarro with him, and you gladly accept. You wish him good luck with the hand-off and go your seperate ways on Nevarro, but not much time passes before you find yourself leaping into action again to help the Mandalorian, and before you know it, you’re in the midst of a stand-off with The Guild.

Everything goes by so quickly, and all of a sudden, you’re back in the Mandalorian’s ship, laying on the ground, with a blaster shot to your side. You stir, and observe the Mandalorian climb down from the cockpit, med-kit in hand. As he administers some bacta spray, he can’t help but ask a question that’s been bothering him.

“Why did you help me? Why did you put yourself in the firing line for me and the child?”

“It’s the Jedi way. Really, we’re supposed to be peacekeepers, and while none of that was remotely peaceful, I can tell you care deeply for the Child, and it was simply the right thing to do. Who knows what they were going to do to it back there... I don’t want to think about it. It can use the force too, it is in my nature to protect my own kind, as I am sure is in your nature to do the same. We’re not as different as our ancestors seemed to think.” you rambled to distract yourself from the pain.

“Do you think you could help the child?”

“In what way?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. But having you around could show the kid how to control it’s powers. And maybe show me why the Jedi aren’t as bad as my people make you out to be?”

“I am curious about the child. I remember one like him when I was just a youngling, and I was first training. Perhaps the more time I spend with him. the more I will remember, and maybe we can find his people?”

“Finding his real home would be ideal, travelling with me is no life for a child.” he spoke sadly, and you wondered how lonely life must be for him. You wondered maybe if he needed the company more than he was letting on.

You stuck around, and helped the little one grow stronger, and The Mandalorian (or as he now let you call him, Mando) grew to enjoy your company. You were certainly useful to have around. If someone didn’t go running at the sight of a Mandalorian, they certainly did when he was joined by you wielding a lightsaber. You made a pretty great pair, both on and off the battlefield. Mando found himself craving your company, and although he wasn’t much of a talker, would try to have conversations with you about anything and everything. 

He realised fairly quickly that perhaps he was having romantic feelings towards you. He dismissed them, as it was against the Creed, and after having learned about the way of the Jedi from you, learned that Jedi were not supposed to have romantic attachments. He buried his feelings deep within the Beskar, but that didn’t stop him stealing glances at you and smiling as you sat with the child and praised him for lifting small objects.

Little did he know, you were struggling against your own code too. You knew attachments were forbidden to your people, but you’d never felt this way before. It was almost exhilarating, because it was forbidden - both in the Jedi code, but also in terms of ancestry and the dealings of those who came before you. A Jedi and a Mandalorian joining together was something that had never happened before. Could you be the first?

You were both fiercely protective of the child, and of one another too. As time grew on, you both became less adept at hiding your feeling. You could never tell what he was looking at through his visor but you were frequently caught staring at Mando, and it’s a surprise you didn’t get whiplash from the speed you would look away when he caught you. What you didn’t know was that he was smirking in those moments, and wondering if he should make a move. He desperately wanted to, but didn’t know how. 

One night, he awoke in the middle of the night and stumbled upon you sat in the cockpit rocking the Child in your arms, softly singing it a song. The Child was sleeping by this point, but you found it peaceful, just to watch the stars go by as you sang quietly. Mando startled you slightly by placing a hand on your shoulder, and your wide eyes scanned the Child, but you relaxed when you noticed he was still sleeping. 

“Mando, you scared me!” you whispered at him, as he turned the pilot’s seat around and sat himself down in it.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, and your heart leaped in your chest at the sound. “You have a lovely voice, by the way.”

You blushed profusely at the compliment and whispered a thank you. Mando sat in contemplation for a minute before reaching a hand out to stroke the Child’s ear. He cooed in response but did not stir, and Mando’s heart leaped at the small chuckle that left your lips. He slowly moved his hand to find yours, and hold it tightly. You looked up into the slits in the Beskar, confusion painting your features.

“I truly enjoy having you around, you know that right?” he asked slowly and you smiled and nodded in response. “Good.” came his curt reply.

“I enjoy being here too, Mando. Since leaving the Jedi all those years ago, it’s been lonely. But you and the Child are like a little family to me now.” you smiled down at the Child, and then your eyes lingered on your linked hands, and you blushed again. This is probably the most physical contact the two of you had shared.

You fell into a comfortable silence, Mando’s thumb tracing your knuckles while he was deep in thought, trying to work out what to say. Before he could say anything, you let out a small yawn, and slowly withdrew your hand from his. The loss of warmth made him sigh, and he hopes you didn’t catch it (you did). You stand up, and announce your retirement to sleep. Before you turn to leave though, you lean down and place a chaste kiss to the top of Mando’s helmet before scurrying away. You’re blushing like never before, and Mando has the biggest grin smacked on his face, which is equally flushed.

Maybe this could work out...

#mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #Mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #Mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic

[scientificphilosopher]

We are in this together. We are one. The world fights together. No doubt you’ve heard such refrains lately, perhaps as hashtags or commercial voiceover reminders from the likes of Wal-Mart and Wells Fargo. As we face the shared experience of a world brought to its knees by an invisible nucleic acid molecule in a protein coat, ruthless corporations are, of course, quick to capitalize and, for the sake of optics and stock prices, remind us that we are in this together.

I hate to count myself among the ranks of such greedy syndicates, but, cash-grabs aside, it is a FACT that we are in this together. On the 50th anniversary of Earth Day, I want to take this opportunity to amplify that fact. This is not merely a hollow or romantic sentiment. The best evidence, both philosophical and scientific, points to our interconnectedness. Our cosmological models show that all of life shares a common ancestry — biologically and chemically. The trees, the bees, the apes, you, me, and, yes, even coronaviruses, all descended from the same ancestor. And more, all the bits of energy that allow us temporarily to feel as if we are individuals, all of it blazed into the cosmos in an unfathomable, silent roar some 14 billion years ago. We are the cooling embers of the same cosmic fire.

Our subtle but absolute interconnection also means that the consequences of even the smallest of our actions will reverberate and have impacts that are potentially profound and positively unpredictable. Our seeming disconnection from each other and the so-called 'outside world', our seeming smallness, our seeming insignificance — none of these hold true in a reality so entangled. Truly, fundamentally, what we do matters. It affects more than we can possibly know. We must maintain some responsibility for this since, as Carl Sagan wrote, ‘In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.’ It is up to us. Protect our home. It’s all we got.

We are literally and inextricably in this together. Let's remember that every day is Earth Day. It cannot be any other way.

#nich #earth day 2020 #instagram #carl sagan

[revengeoftheantichrist]

What Kind of Man

Warnings: Possessive behaviour, forced feeding 

AO3  <<<Previous

Chapter 11: Performance 

You avoided dinner that night, choosing instead to go straight to bed. Your sickness and the letters giving you a headache. Before you slept, you placed some of the flowers in a vase on your nightstand, hoping to ward off whatever was in this house.

As you began to drift off, the covers were yanked off you, exposing you to the cool air.

“You are in no state to be refusing dinner!” scolded Michael. He stood in his robe, Mrs Mead behind him with a tray of food.

“I’m not hungry,” you said, attempting to reach for the covers. He turned to Mrs Mead, who handed him the tray and left you both alone. The smell of the food made your stomach grumble, but you still turned away when Michael brought the spoon to your mouth.

“Turn around and don’t be petulant.”

You rolled your eyes and refused to turn to him. You heard him huff before he forcefully turned your face to him. You refused to open your mouth, glaring at him. He had enough, pinching your nose so you’d be forced open your mouth to breath. Tears began to fall as you had to open your mouth. Michael shoved the hot spoon in your mouth, not letting the soup cool and burning your tongue.

“Now swallow like a good girl,” he ordered.

You closed your eyes and swallowed the burning liquid. Wincing as it reached your stomach.

“Now Y/N, you better have finished this bowl before I get back from my study, or else ill pour it down your throat. Do you understand?” he threatened.

You nodded and that was enough for him. He left you alone with the meal. You reluctantly began to eat, fearing what more could happen.

You pulled the covers over you after finishing your meal, not wanting to talk to Michael at all. He returned a few moments later, passing off the tray to Mrs Mead. You turned away from him as he crawled in beside you. He sighed and pulled you back against his chest, trapping you in his tight hold. Nothing was said as you drifted off.

////

You were sat at breakfast, picking at your food.

“I have some news,” Michael interrupted your train of thought. You looked up at him inquisitively.

“we will be going to see a play tomorrow evening,” he stated.

“Why?”

“Xavier Plympton’s play is having its final performance in the city nearby he is a good friend of mine. Your brother knows him. Some of the girls you met at Robichaux are part of the cast. There will be an afterparty here at the castle”

“Will Mallory be there?”

Michael looked at you like you were stupid, “Of course she will, she’s my primary beneficiary and their best performer.”

You just smiled and nodded.

////

The library must have held more answers. You had a few hours to look for more clues. At first you went to check the cavity you found last night, to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. It was still there along with the letters. The library must have been built with more. Instinct told you to go to the opposite end; hopefully someone appreciated symmetry when building it.

You were right, a little bit of pushing and the second alcove gave way. A similar box inside.

The handwriting was different on these envelopes. The wax seal had no crest. They were addressed to the USA.

You took a deep breath and unsealed the letter.

‘Dear Father,

It worries me that you haven’t replied to my letters. Is mother okay? Trevor? Our trip around Europe is coming to a close, yet Duncan seems more distant with me that ever before. I thought we’d become closer but there stills seems to be a gap. I always thought that it was rumour that the Shepherd dynasty was unwelcoming to their brides, but I know it’s true now. He’d rather spend the night in the streets than with me. I hope this doesn’t continue after the wedding. Our final destination is a ball some Count is holding. Apparently, his new wife is being introduced to society. I wonder if he loves her. Duncan speaks highly of his friend.

I hope this letter arrives and that you send me an answer for once

Love, Coco’

Why were Coco’s letters in your home? Why had they been left unsent? The was a simple folded piece of paper in the box, the same address as the letters before on one of the sides. You unfolded it to read its contents.

‘Please send a priest. Send some help. I have been trapped here. These men are beasts. They just sat and watched as the other’ The ink was smudged.

‘I have sent this with that sweet maid, reward her well. Please save me.’’

You reread the paper twice, before folding it and putting it back in the box. Coco never reached the States. You know that she didn’t get on that ferry back. The scream you heard that night must have been hers.

Whatever had happened to Madison, had happened to Coco. And it would happen to you too. The fact that the letter was given to a maid, but was in this box, meant that none of the staff could be trusted, not even the twins.

You put the box away and clicked the façade shut. Thinking about a way to get out of this castle before it became your coffin.

Your head began to spin as you left the library. You moved towards the garden to get some fresh air, but the sunlight made you recoil. Your eyes felt sensitive to the sun, making your head feel worse. You held onto the wall, trying to make your way to your room. Your mouth felt so dry, and your forehead was damp with sweat. You fell to the ground with a loud ‘thud’, the sound of running and a pair of fine leather shoes coming towards you the last thing you saw before your eyes snapped shut.

////

You woke to the sound of muffled voices. Your tried to make out the whispering, but the harder you concentrated, the more your ears rang. You groaned in pain and frustrating, alerting the room that you were awake.

You vision was blurry, but you were surrounded by Michael, Mrs Mead and Dr Montgomery. Michael was speaking to you, but his voice was still muffled, as if you had your head underwater. You tried to speak, but no words came out of your mouth.

Mrs Mead handed Michael a cup. He held you up and put it to your lip, making you drink the warm, sweet liquid down. You greedily drank, feeling better with each gulp, the fuzziness beginning to clear.

“Good evening Lady Langdon how are you feeling now?” asked Dr Montgomery.

You thought about your answer, squinting to focus on him, “a little… hazy still. My head has been hurting a lot recently,” you explained.

“Ah yes, Mrs Mead and the Count also explained your vomiting and fluctuating appetite.”

You nodded in response.

“It’s just a little bug, you must have caught it in Paris and the symptoms are developing now, but they should pass soon.”

He had lied to you again, you knew it.

He moved to check your temperature and the focus of your eyes. Giving you the clear and leaving a prescription with Mrs Mead.

“Make sure you follow the guidelines and keep your eating regular, even if you don’t want to,” with that he and Mrs Mead left, leaving you alone with Michael.

You just wanted to sleep again, resting your head back on the pillow. You heard Michael shuffling around before he got in beside you.

“You always worry me little dove, I thought you might have cracked your skull open with how loudly you fell,” his voice was soft.

“Where are you? You feel so far from me recently. Sometimes I feel like your somewhere else, like you’ve put your walls back up,” he ran his fingers through your hair.

“I’m just sick,” you sleepily murmured, not wanting him to see what you really were thinking.

He pulled your head to his chest with a sigh, “It will pass, I promise you it will pass.”

His actions and the softness of his voice lulled you to sleep.

////

Today was an exciting day for you, you had never seen a play before. Michael had let you see the ballroom get decorated for the party you would be hosting in the evening. You were in awe of the speed at which the staff worked. The hustle and bustle of the day took your mind off the mystery of your Husband. It could wait another day.

The opera house itself was stunning, having been partially funded by the Langdon family when it was first built. It seemed like Michael’s ancestors knew nothing other than living in excess. A tradition your husband seemed to have continued religiously.

The performance itself had you mesmerised. The dancers were oh so elegant. You saw now why Mallory earned her title. The writing of the play was phenomenal, making it clear that Mr Plympton was a Hawthorne alumnus; it had you sucked in from the first note. Michael however, had spent the evening staring at you and at Mallory, you had slapped his hand away from you one too many times.

You were allowed backstage at the end of the performance, presenting flowers to Mallory and Xavier long with drinks for the rest of the cast.

“So, this is the Countess? You are far too beautiful to be on the arm of my friend over here. I’m Xavier my Lady, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you,” Xavier said, kissing your hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too Mr Plympton, my husband has sung many praises about your work, now I can see why.”

“Oh, I sang many praises for him back in the day too, don’t you worry,” Xavier winked at Michael, the innuendo flying over your head.

Michael cleared his throat to interrupt the conversation, “I do believe we have a party to host tonight and we mustn’t be late.”

Everyone nodded and smiled in agreement, making their way to the waiting transport.

////

The party itself seemed wilder than the ball you held a month ago. That was high society. This was libertines and bohemians. Although an entertaining crowd to watch, not one you wanted to participate in. You had decided not to drink that night, not wanting to bring on another headache. You might have enjoyed yourself more if you had you thought.

“No wine tonight Lady Langdon?” asked Mallory.

You laughed and shook your head. You were standing on the balcony, overlooking the garden, the party in full swing behind you.

“I think I drank to much at the dinner hosted by Robichaux,” you replied.

It was her turn to giggle, “Oh yes I remember, I think you had a full bottle by the end of the night. I saw you roll your eyes and lose interest in that conversation. It was quite funny actually.”

You both looked at each other and laughed, thinking back to that night.

“Yes well, sometimes the count begins to speak, and I don’t really care for it, so I just stop listening.”

“I don’t think he’d be happy about that,” Mallory pointed out, taking a swig and finishing her glass.

“mmm happy about what,” Xavier slurred out, he wrapped his arms around Mallory’s waist and rested his chin on her head, his face was flush with a stupid grin plastered across it.

The sight of the pair drunkenly swaying brought a smile to your face. How nice its must have been, to not be subject to the rigid structures of the society you lived in. To be able to do whatever you wanted, without a care in the world. You wondered what type of woman you’d be if your upbringing wasn’t so strict or sheltered. Would you have confronted Michael? Would you have married him in the first place? You thought about it now. You never had the chance to say ‘no’. your father and brother had made all your life decisions up to this point. And now it seemed that Michael was doing the same. You wondered what freedom tasted like. Was it sweet? Did it have an aftertaste?

Your thoughts were interupped by Michael’s hands on your hips.

“What ahs you so deep in thought my love?”

You looked up to the stars, taking in the vastness of the night sky.

“Nothing really, maybe about our place in the universe. All the events that have led us to where we our now. Maybe fate or higher power,” you rambled.

“I think you might have enjoyed the philosophy lessons we had back at Hawthorne.”

“I care not for man of ages past, only the here and now,” you sighed again, leaning back onto Michael’s shoulder. “It’ll be a shame when winter comes. Such a beautiful garden will be barren for months. Almost as if it will never live again. But then, the spring comes, and it is reborn.”

“Life is a strange thing, there’s some things that are almost immortal, but we do not remember them. Then humans, mortal beings that leave their mark. Fascinating isn’t it? Michael mused.

You were interrupted by Xavier.

“We must get going. Mallory and the girls leave for Paris in the morning, so they must get to their lodgings and rest.”

You nodded and Michael and Xavier walked ahead, yourself and Mallory walking behind them, engaged in small talk.

You said your goodbyes and stayed behind to watch them leave and wave them off. The night had taken a toll on you, so you left for your room and retired for the night. You assumed Michael would spend the evening reminiscing with old friends and colleagues. So, you were surprised to see him already in bed.

You moved to go the dressing room to change, but you were stopped by Michael.

“You can undress here, in front of me.”

You looked at him as if he had grown two heads.

He just rolled his eyes, “I have seen it all before, don’t be shy now my love.”

Your cheeks heated up and you avoided eye contact with him as you shed your layers, finally leaving you in your under garments.

He curled his finger ins a ‘come hither’ motion, you slowly followed his command. He reached towards you and removed the final barriers, the chill causing goose bumps and your nipples to harden.

“Don’t just stand there, come on now,” he patted his lap. You climbed onto the bed, then onto his lap, where he wanted you.

You moaned lightly as you felt his stiff cock underneath you. His hand travelled up your sides, ticking the flesh. They finally reached you breasts, and you cried out at he began to tease your nipples. They had been sore and sensitive recently. He took a nipple into his mouth, noisily sucking on it. You threw your head back at the sensation. What a sight you were to him, moaning and mewling at the smallest of his touches. He gave the other nipple the same attention, before moving back with a wet ‘pop’.

“You’re so beautiful from up there.”

His hands moved to your hips again, lifting you and then slowly impaling you onto his cock, he couldn’t wait any longer.

You held onto his shoulders, your hips meeting every thrust. He pulled you into a searing kiss, capturing each other moans. You both came quickly. No matter what you thought about this man, or what he had done, you lust for him seemed to be paramount. His voice and his hands could make empires crumble, just like they did to you.

You collapsed onto his chest, exhausted from everything. No words were spoken as you drifted off.

////

Five days later, late in the afternoon, you had a visitor.

Madame Cordelia had come to visit.

Mallory had never made it home.

Next>>>

#my writing #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #WKM11

[chillax-kass-w]

After All | M19

[Reiner Braun/Reader]

Happiness seems impossible for Reiner, but he may get there after all.

Read on AO3

[As a note, the format of this story is as follows: chapters actually titled “Chapter _” are current to the Marley Arc, chapters titled “M_” are Reiner’s memories in succession, and chapters titled “RM_” are the Reader’s memories in succession]

Previous

Sunlight was filtering through the leaves, and he knew. He knew (f/n) would love these trees. She’d scale them up and down and wonder what their story was. She’d write that story; she’d tell it to him. She’d always been curious like that. He could just imagine her smiling at the adventure ahead of them; he could just see the golden sun in her hair, the life in her eyes.

“Hey, Reiner, got any water?”

His imagination halted at Ymir’s question. “Sorry, there’s not a hell of a lot I can do, even if it is a matter of life and death.” Now that she mentioned it, he was parched. He wondered when they’d get back to the Walls for some much needed rest.

“You’re right about that. This whole thing is bullshit.”

“Speaking of which, we’ve been working our asses off. No food, no sleep, no nothing. Ever since those Titans showed up. That was yesterday, right?” He sighed. “Man, we’re lucky the Wall hasn’t been destroyed. Still,” he held his hand to his head, “you’d think that meant they’d give us a break. And don’t even get me started on promotion…”

“Reiner.” He looked to Bertholdt; his eyes were wide.

“What? Aw, come on, I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Do you?” He chuckled. “No, I think we’ve done enough work to deserve consideration. It’s not easy to act in a situation as messed up as this one. As a soldier, I don’t see what’s wrong with being commended and rewarded for that… It’s just nice to be acknowledged.”

“Mister Reiner, what in the hell are you going on about?” Ymir had an incredulous smile on her face. What was that for?

“What do you mean? I’m not saying that I should be immediately promoted to Captain, you know.”

“Uh… That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh, by the way, where did you guys get that cannon from? I owe you one for saving my bacon.” He sighed. “And (f/n) injured her hand saving me too. Needed stitches. I hope she’s alright. She—”

“Hey!” He jumped as Eren stood with a shout, and that’s when he noticed the steam billowing from Eren’s arms. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Is this some kind of joke?”

“What are you mad about, Eren? Was it something I said?” He held up his hands in surrender. He didn’t understand.

“If you want me to kill you, just keep talking!”

“Wait, Eren,” Ymir held out her arm. Why was she missing limbs? “Whatever he’s saying, it’s not normal. Isn’t that right, Bertholdt? If there’s something you know, then quit being quiet and do something about it.” Reiner didn’t understand what she could be implying. He looked to his friend for some sort of answer.

“Reiner…” Bertholdt couldn’t meet his eyes. “Snap out of it. You’re not a soldier. We’re Warriors.”

Warriors.

1,820 years ago, our ancestor Ymir Fritz made a deal with the Devil.

She gained power.

The power of the Titans.

Eldia’s ethnic cleansing lasted for about 1,700 years.

The Great Nation of Marley incited a civil war and brought seven of the nine Titans to its side.

The Great Nation of Marley won.

The Great Nation of Marley is merciful to the Eldians.

I will become a Warrior and live with my mother and father as an Honorary Marleyan.

I will become a Warrior and eradicate the Devils within the Walls.

I will become a Warrior.

I will become a Hero.

Eyes shut, he realized. Everything had come together. When had it come apart?

“Marcel! No!”

“Take the blame and die!”

“Reiner’s dead. If you need Marcel, I’ll be Marcel.”

“This is the only way we can go home.”

His mother was waiting; he wouldn’t let her wait long.

Complications like her ruined everything.

He’d take her down and show her how cruel the world really was to devils like her.

He couldn’t trample a smile like that, even on a devil’s face.

No one would question the aim of a person who selflessly helped others.

Keep telling yourself that.

She was a good person.

Person?

“You deserve it, Reiner.”

Friend?

He’d become a good liar.

“Well, we’ll go see it then.”

Another lie.

“All thanks to you.”

“Who am I really?”

All you cause is pain.

He couldn’t change her future, as much as he wanted to.

“It’s your choice, Rein’.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

Just do what needs to be done, and keep moving forward.

“Wait, why are you in such a rush?! We haven’t even talked this over!”

“Hey, why is Marco being eaten?”

“It’s not your fault, Reiner. Please, please, don’t blame yourself for things out of your control.”

“Please, Reiner.”

He wanted to forget.

He wanted more.

He understood.

“Look at how beautiful it is, Rein’.”

“They remind me of you… respect, chivalry, clarity of thought…”

He couldn’t afford her.

If only he had the power to douse the flames.

If only…

“I fight for you.”  

“I fight for you too.”

“Reiner… I thought I lost you.”

“I thought I lost you, too.”

“Reiner!”

“No!”

No!

No!

Warriors.

We’re Warriors.

“Right… I see…That’s how things are…” He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. All he could do was hold his head in his hands and cry.

It felt as if he’d seen someone else’s memories. He’d always expected to be in this position, but not then, not his own memories. How had he forgotten? Why did he feel so out of control? Had he ever been in control?

“I think I’m starting to see what’s going on here. I thought something was strange. I mean, why would the man who destroyed the Wall risk his life to save Connie? You were taking contradictory actions, but without being aware of it. I don’t know why that happened, but… You were originally a Warrior whose goal was to destroy the Wall, but you pretended to be a soldier for so long, you could no longer tell which was the real you…” Ymir’s words vexed him, or did they pin him? “No, maybe you couldn’t bear the weight of your sins, so, in order to keep your mind in balance, you unconsciously escaped into a fantasy, convincing yourself you were just a soldier who protected the Wall… That caused your mind to split and altered your memories. Judging by Bertholdt’s dumbfounded expression, this isn’t the first time your stories stopped fitting together…” She laughed in the face of his plight. “And not to mention the ultimate irony, you convinced yourself you were worthy of love. Ha! I wonder what (f/n) is thinking right now. She must be—”

“Shut up!” He couldn’t take it, couldn’t face it. “Don’t say her name.” His blood was boiling with regret and determination, duty and the woes of his life.

“My bad, but isn’t it you who shouldn’t be allowed to say her name? Think about it.” She was right, absolutely right. At the thought, he buried his face further into his cold hands. He didn’t want to be seen.

He didn’t want to be there.

“You have to be kidding me. How can you act like a victim?” I don’t know. “What are you even thinking?” I don’t know, Eren.  “Why did you even listen to what we had to say that day? Tell me, Bertholdt. Don’t you remember what I said? I was right in front of you two. I told you about the time my mother was eaten by a Titan, didn’t I? About how she couldn’t escape because a piece of the gate you kicked down landed right on my house. You know about that, right?” Yes. “I told you, didn’t I?” Yes. “What did you think? What… were you thinking that day?”

“Back then… I felt sorry for you.” How could Bertholdt answer? Reiner’s entire being was withering away.

“Oh… I see… You two… You’re not soldiers… You’re not Warriors… You’re just murderers. You massacred people who’d done nothing wrong! You’re mass murderers!”

“I know that!” Reiner couldn’t take it. His sins were agonizing upon his back, in his chest, around his neck. “I don’t need you to tell me!”

“Then stop acting like responsible citizens worried about the state of the world! You two aren’t even human anymore! You’re the ones who turned this world into a living hell! Don’t you see that, you murderers?!”

Yes, he could see. He could see very clearly now.

A l l  y o u  c a u s e  i s  p a i n.

“So what do you want these murderers to do?! Do you want us to repent?! Do you want us to apologize?! Are you really going to preach to a couple of cold blooded murderers about how killing is wrong?! Will that satisfy you?! The Reiner and Bertholdt you know are gone! And if all you want to do is cry about it, then go ahead! Keep crying!”

He wanted to cry. He wanted to go home.

“You’re right.” Eren’s voice was cold. “Who am I? What do I know? Still, all I can do now… is work. Work hard… to make sure that you two die the most excruciating death possible.”

How could Reiner feel fear when he felt so numb?

“You can’t be for real. Eren, I’m begging you, I can’t put my faith in you if you keep talking like some stupid kid.”

“Like what…?”

“I’m saying there’s no way I’m going along with someone worried about petty little things like that.” She paused. “Hey, Reiner. What was that beast?”

His eyes widened. He didn’t want to talk about that.

He didn’t want to talk about anything.

“Beast? What’re you talking about?”

“Huh, you don’t know? Funny, considering that your eyes were beaming like you were kids when you saw it earlier.”

Eren was confused. “What ‘beast’?”

Ymir shook her head. “Just listen. That Beast Titan is the cause of this recent mess. It was what made Titans appear inside the Walls. Maybe it was testing our strength?” How did she know? “You two are trying to get to it, because, if you do, you’ll be able to go back to your home town, right?”

Before he could even piece together a response, Eren shouted again. “Tell me everything you know!”

“Be patient. I’m caught up in circumstances of my own. But listen, Eren. If you think that everything will be settled if you take care of these two… Then, you’re dead wrong.”

“Then who’s our enemy?!”

If only he knew.

“Our enemy? Well, if I had to say, then it’d be—”

“Ymir!” He couldn’t let her tell Eren. He couldn’t let her go. She was the one who’d ruined their mission to begin with. She had to return home with them. If not...  “Do you think this world has a future?” He paused, piecing his argument together. “If you know that much about what’s going on, then think about your plans. Surely you can consider coming over to our side.”

“And trust you? Fat chance! You can’t trust me.”

“No, I can trust you. Your goal is to protect Krista, isn’t it?” Even in his fractured state of mind, he knew how to get to her. That much was obvious, especially with the look in her eyes. “Based on our situation, can you not imagine we can help her in some way? Or… Do you think Eren’s strength is more reliable than ours?”

“What?!”

Despite Eren’s shout, he knew he’d convinced at least some part of Ymir. She was glaring at Eren, presumably sizing him up. “You were thinking of using Eren to escape from here, probably because you thought you had no chance if you let us take you.” She didn’t, but truth was strong in times of negotiation. “To be honest with you, that’s exactly right. And even if you did join us, we wouldn’t be able to guarantee your safety. But, if we’re just talking about Krista… Together, we might be able to make something work. Your tiny little life… or Krista’s future: it’s your choice.”

He was basing this off of his own deduction. Annie had learned much about the aristocratic families, enough to know there was an illegitimate child out in the world. Ymir had told Krista to live for herself, suggesting she had never done so before. And, to top off the theory, Krista had revealed her true name was Historia. That was a noble name if he’d ever heard one.

“Hey, so who’s our real enemy?!”

“Who knows…?” With those words, he knew he’d bought her silence and support.

If only he could buy (f/n)’s safety…

“Reiner,” Bertholdt met him upon his branch, “are we really going to trust Ymir? Her Titan is small, but it was fast. If we don’t restrain her, she could take us out in moments… She… really is the one who ate Marcel, remember?”

How could he forget? That moment was cemented in his mind, his first monumental mistake. He’d let his focus drop for but a moment, and Marcel had saved him. Marcel was devoured by a Titan with long hair and black eyes. There was no second guessing the facts, at least for this memory. There was no disputing the identity of Ymir’s Titan. Her claws and sharp fangs couldn’t belong to any ther than the Jaws.

What if… he’d have been the one devoured that day?

“That’s right. But that’s exactly why her position is clear. She finally became human again. She probably wanted to wander, thinking of only her own survival… That is, until she met Krista. She found someone she valued more than herself, someone so dear that she’d jump into a swarm of Titans for her.”

He’d found that someone too…

“Reiner.” Bertholdt grabbed his shoulder; it brought him back to the moment, but he wouldn’t let it show. “What are you right now?”

No one.

“I’m a Warrior. Don’t worry. I have more reasons for bringing Krista with us than her just being cute. Did you forget? Annie tailed those guys who were loitering around the Training Grounds to see what they were up to. They came to observe Krista from the Church of the Wall, that group that knows what’s inside the Walls. Krista’s an important figure in a Wallist family. In other words, if the Coordinate we’re looking for isn’t Eren, then our mission won’t be over yet. If that happens and we have Krista, it should make the search much easier than it is now.”

“Yeah, let’s put an end to this. Next time we come here, we’ll be able to bring Annie, Krista, and that back to our hometown. And… that will be the last time we ever come here.”

Why did those words hurt so much?

Why couldn’t he use rationale to bring her home?

Why had this happened?

“Yeah, all our duties will be complete.”

His heart wouldn’t be.

But, Bertholdt’s…

He stopped him. “But, Bertholdt, tell Annie how you feel once we get to our hometown.”

If only…

“What?!”

“You stare at her too much! Enough that anyone paying attention would notice.”

“No, I—”

...he could do the same…

“Aw, who cares?” He crossed his arms. “You’re both murderers with little time left, right? Who else but one of us could understand the situation we’re in?”

Could she…?

Then, a sound met his ears. It was so familiar…

He glanced behind him, and there he found something he hadn’t quite factored into their equation.

Green smoke signals…

“Bertholdt.”

“The Survey Corps? Already?”

He readied his triggers. They had to move. “They shouldn’t be able to put together a scouting formation without moving a lot of horses over the Wall. I didn’t think they’d be able to act this quickly… Damn it. Commander Erwin might be with them.” Without a second thought, he shot an anchor above Eren. “We’re up against a tough bunch.”

He should know.

“Huh? What is it, Reiner?! It’s not night yet!”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re heading out now.”

He had to be level-headed. Bertholdt was counting on him. Annie was counting on him. Zeke was counting on him. His mother was counting on him. The entire Nation of Marley was counting on him. What were his emotions in the grand scheme of things? What was he in the grand scheme of things?

A Warrior.

There was a world waiting for his next move. The weight was on his shoulders; he could feel it. And, as he stepped toward Eren, he met his rival head on. “Eren, don’t be stupid and put up a fight.”

Eren laughed; it was forced. “Hey, you don’t need to act so tough. Look at me!” His arms were still healing from being severed, but Reiner knew better than to trust that. “There’s no way I could possibly fight back. Come on...” Reiner knew better.

So why did he let Eren attack him like that?

He was thrown on his back from the force, and Eren was above him, smashing his unformed arms relentlessly into Reiner’s head. He took it for a bit, allowed Eren to tell him to die, even considered it. But then, he found his resolve again. He kicked his former friend to the side, and, when he tried to get back up, he wrapped his forearm around Eren’s throat.

“I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you! I’ll rip you apart!”

Just one squeeze, and he could kill him.

No, he needed him alive.

As he added pressure to Eren’s throat, he wondered just how it’d come to this. Why did the world have to be so cruel? Why had he been born in this position? Why were the Walls filled with people? Why had she been born inside the Walls?

At this point, he just had to accept it.

So, as Eren’s consciousness faded into nothing, he finally allowed his mind to settle on one thing: getting back home. That’d been his mission all along. That was all he’d ever wanted. Why had he forgotten that? Why hadn’t he stayed the course?

This was all his doing. He had to be the one to fix his mistakes.

As Bertholdt tied Eren to his back, Reiner planned his next course of action. The Survey Corps was too close for comfort, as were the Titans. Bertholdt had to carry Ymir on his back as well, so their mobility was limited. The situation just wasn’t in their favor.

Once Ymir was situated, Reiner and Bertholdt shot into the trees, and the Titans below followed. He gritted his teeth. “For now, we need to head somewhere with no Titans. Stay as far away from them as possible. I still haven’t recovered, and my Titan moves slow, so if we get surrounded, I won’t be able to protect both of us.”

“Then why the hell didn’t we wait ‘til night?!” Ymir shouted over the passing wind. “Oh… Signal flares?! So the Survey Corps came to save us?!”

Looking over his shoulder, he groaned. “Damn it, they’re already close. This is all because Eren got violent.” They had to get to the other side of the Titan Forest, and quickly. They were low on gas as it was, but, if they could just outrun the Titans, he could transform. It was open ground from there. They’d have the advantage.

“Reiner! It’s Krista!”

“What?”

“Krista’s with them! Now’s our chance to grab her!”

That wasn’t part of the plan. “You’re full of it! No way you can see that far!”

“I know she’s with them!” Ymir’s voice was desperate, demanding. “That idiot is too kind-hearted for her own good! She came to rescue me!”

That wasn’t part of the plan.

“Even if that’s true, we can’t go now!” He turned forward again, toward the mission. “We’ll get another chance!”

“What?!”

“We can’t grab her the way things are now! There’s no way to bust up that formation! Wait for our chance!”

“‘Wait for our chance’?! When’s that going to be?! After one of your Warrior pals eats me?! No! I can’t trust you!”

“Trust me! I’m not lying when I say we need Krista too!”

Just trust me!

“Prove it then! Prove it to me, right now! I need it to be now ! I want it to be now… At this rate, I’ll never see her again!”

At that, Reiner fell silent. His mission was in his eyes, but his heart…

I’ll never see her again…

“We can’t.” It was Bertholdt who answered, calm and collected. “Right now, we don’t even know if we can escape safely ourselves.”

He had to assure someone that a life would be saved, even if it wasn’t the one he truly wanted.

“I promise you! We’ll save her, I swear it!”

She was silent for a time. Then, as they continued their flight, she shouted, “I’m the strongest one here in this terrain.”

Reiner turned to find her grabbing at Bertholdt’s face, covering his eyes. “Ymir!”

“Ymir, stop!”

“Shut the hell up and think for a second! I’d be able to dominate this terrain, don’t you think?”

Bertholdt’s next anchor barely hit its mark. “Ymir, stop, we’ll fall!”

“That’s fine with me. My Titan might not be as strong as yours, but I can move quickly through the trees. I could grab Eren and rendezvous with the Scouts before you even knew what hit you. Wouldn’t be that hard.” At her threat, Reiner found his footing on the next tree he anchored to and stopped. They couldn’t risk it. “If you don’t take Krista right now, I’ll make a nuisance of myself here.”

Why couldn’t she just go along with the plan?

“Are you completely insane?! We won’t be able to save her that way! All because of your selfishness! I thought that you genuinely cared!”

“I do, in my way. Even if it means robbing her of her future, I want to survive and see her again. As a person, I’m really lower than shit… But she knows that, and she smiles at me anyway. You two don’t know what that’s like, do you?”

He did…

“Damnit!”

“Don’t be mad. I’ve thought this through. If I fight here, it’ll make it easier for you to escape! Or,” she glared at Bertholdt, fire in her eyes, “we could always tear each other apart instead! You think I’m nuts?! Then try me and find out!”

They couldn’t risk fighting here and now. If they did, the Corps would catch up, and they’d be too exhausted to fight them or even run away at that point. Ymir was right; she had the upper hand in this situation.

Damnit…

“Fine! We’ll keep heading to the edge of the forest! You better follow through, Ymir!”

“I will!”

With that, she let go of Bertholdt, falling behind them into a burst of lightning. The plan seemed to fall with her.

Even so, Reiner had to push forward. They still had Eren. He was more than enough, but the Jaw Titan was a priority too. He had to retrieve it. It was his own idiocy that caused them to lose it. It was all him. If he couldn’t bring it back to Marley, he was an absolute failure.

He already felt like one.

The edge of the forest was soaring into view. Their future was somewhere on the other side. As they switched positions in holding Eren, he all but held his breath. If Ymir didn’t come, what was the course of action? If—

“She’s here, Reiner!”

There she was. If she’d returned to them, that meant she’d succeeded in nabbing Krista. Somehow, the plan was working. Somehow, it didn’t seem all for naught.

“Good.”

So, just as he had so many times before, he held a knife in hand, and he jumped from the trees. It was all muscle memory from there. He eyed his hand as the blood trailed into light, and he wondered what the pain really felt like. He’d never felt it. The wound always closed as soon as he transformed.

(f/n) had felt it...

Lightning.

Ymir and Bertholdt latched onto his shoulders, and he ran. He ran, like he had the day they’d come there. He ran like he had, with Bertholdt and Annie on his shoulders. He ran, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Open sky, open land awaited his feet. He was finally free.

Why did it feel as if that wasn’t the case?

Upon his shoulder, he heard a cough. Krista must have woken up.

“Ymir!”

“Krista… No, Historia.” Ymir must have exited her Titan. “I’m sorry I ate you out of nowhere. You must be mad, right?”

Left, right, left, right…

“What is this? What’s going on? We came to rescue you and Ere—”

“You don’t need to rescue me! Things have changed! I’m with Reiner and Bertholdt now. Like it or not, you’re coming with us! There’s no future inside the Walls! Hear me out for a second, okay? Life outside isn’t as bad as you think. Believe me. There’s no one out here saying the world would be a better place if you’d never been born.”

Think again.

“Yeah?! I don’t think Titans would say much either way! They’d be too busy trying to eat me!”

“We all have our shortcomings, right?! They’re not so bad if you look past that! It’s complicated, alright?!”

“Ymir, I don’t know what’s going on in your mind, but you’re not making any sense! It must be… that Reiner and Bertholdt forced you to do this, right? They threatened you!”

From his other shoulder, he heard Bertholdt voice his own thoughts. “It’s the opposite, actually…”

“I’m right, aren’t I?! Let go! Whatever they’ve got on you, I don’t care! We can fight them! Put the past behind you! What matters is right now! I’m here! I will always be your ally!”

If only…

“Ymir!” Bertholdt. “In case you haven’t noticed, the Scouts are closing in. If we’d left earlier, there might’ve been a decent chance of outrunning them. Going back for Krista was your idea. You forced us. Remember that? Ymir, why? What did we do this for?! Have you changed your mind again? Have you decided to stay inside the Walls with Krista? Don’t be a fool! Think!”

A fool…

“Let go! Don’t listen to him!”

Don’t listen…

“I can’t!” Ymir’s voice was shattering upon the wind. “I wish I could. Historia, I know you think I did this for you. But, at the end of the day, I did it for me. A long time ago, I stole the power of the Titans from one of their comrades. Their power is absolute. Inside or outside the Walls, there’s nowhere for me to run. At this rate, I’m going to be killed… But, they said if I cooperate, hand you over, they’ll speak on my behalf to get my crimes pardoned. It’s because you’re so important to the Wallists, who know the secrets of the Walls… When this world started going to hell… I thought that being with you… would be insurance for the near future… I almost died fighting at the tower… And I just couldn’t take it anymore. I was scared of dying. I wanted someone to save me somehow… I lied, and told you I was doing it all for you, but, really… It was all for my own sake. I’m begging you, Historia! Please, please save me!”

Please…

Please, save me…

“Didn’t I just tell you, Ymir? No matter what happens, I’m on your side!”

He was running toward the sun, running toward the blaze, but it didn’t emanate the brilliance he’d always revered. No, that was behind him. She was behind him. He knew. It was inevitable.

Shadows always sail away from the sun, after all.

Then, another familiar sound…

Was that an anchor in his shoulder?

Was that the whir of the 3dmg?

Were they that close already?

Ymir’s scream told him they were.

“Reiner! Protect us!” Bertholdt jumped under his chin, and to shield him, Reiner brought both his hands up to form a cage against his neck. Just in time, for Mikasa slashed at his hardened knuckles only a second too late.

“Mikasa, no! You’re not going to kill Ymir!”

Mikasa was on his head now. “That all depends on her! What’ll it be?! She can step aside or she can die! Her choice!”

“Reiner.”

That voice…

On his right shoulder, next to his ear...

She shouldn’t be here. She’s injured. She shouldn’t be here.

“Reiner, I know you can hear me.”

I can, (f/n).

“Please, tell me this is some sort of misunderstanding. There’s no way…”

It isn’t.

“Tell me, was any of it real? Did you ever truly care about me? Or was it all part of this lie?”

It was real. I care about you. I care about you.

“How many lies did you tell me?”

Too many to count.

“Why…?”

She was crying. Her fists met his cheek; he barely felt them. He barely felt.

If he had it his way, he’d tell her how real it all was. If he had it his way, he’d take her with him. If he had it his way, he’d stay with her until the end of time, until he’d heard everything she knew and everything she didn’t and every wish and every cry a thousand times over. But, it was never fated to go his way. Fate didn’t favor bloodstained hands. He had to accept that. He had to.

He was up to his shoulders in red.

“Why would you do this to me, Reiner?!”

To save the world.

“Why would you hurt so many people?!”

To save the world.

“You’re terrible!”

I am.

“You’re terrible…”

Her voice fell to a whisper. He couldn’t hear anything else. It was only her.

It was always her.

“I guess it’s always been like this. I’ve never gotten any answers from you. You’ve never listened to me. I should’ve known.”

I’ve always listened. I hear you.

“You’re a monster. I cared about you, and you’re a monster.”

You’re right. You’ve always been right.

“None of that matters. Just focus on taking their heads off,” Mikasa’s words reached him. “If you even hesitate for a moment, we’ll never get Eren back. They’re a threat to Humanity. That’s all.”

Thump, thump, thump.

“Do you think that anyone wants to kill people?!” Bertholdt voiced his own thoughts, broken and all alone. “What kind of person would do this for fun?! Who would want to do this?! With what we did, of course you despise us and want to kill us! We can never take any of it back! But, we couldn’t come to terms with our sins… When we were pretending to be soldiers, it was a little bit easier. It’s not a lie, (f/n)! Connie! Jean! It’s true that we deceived you, but it wasn’t all lies! We really did think of you as friends! We really did care! I know… we don’t have the right to apologize. But, someone… Please, someone… I’m begging you, someone find us…”

“Bertholdt… Give Eren back.”

“I can’t do that. Someone has to do this. Someone…has to get blood on their hands.”

Someone...

“Everyone, jump off right now!”

She left a void on his shoulder. She left a void.

And Death was coming. Titans, a horde of Titans, were approaching them from ahead. The Commander was leading them straight toward Reiner. There was nowhere to go. The weight of the World was on his shoulders; the weight of his friends’ pain was there too. There was no escaping his sins. There was no escaping the path he’d set out on. All he could do was run, run and hope they’d make it out on the other side.

Just do what needs to be done, and keep moving forward.

With hands latched firmly to his neck, Reiner dipped his shoulder and ran. Just as he’d destroyed the gate those many years before, he rammed through the horde in his path. They kept coming. He kept charging. Ymir was screaming. They were around his neck, biting his head, holding him down. He had to move. Quickly, quickly, he had to move.

He had to get home.

Where could he go? He was surrounded. There was no way to fight with his hands around Bertholdt. There was no way to protect Bertholdt as he fought. What could he do? How many were there? Ten? Twenty?

It wouldn’t matter if they died.

Hold on, Bertholdt.

Just a little longer.

We’re almost there.

He let Bertholdt go, and he swung at the Titans closest to him. He swung, and he swung, and he prayed for safety. He prayed for home.

The Scouts…

They were upon him now. They were after Bertholdt. He had to choose the greatest enemy. He had to choose. He brought his hand up and around his friend.

“We’ve made it this far! We’re taking Eren with us and going back home!”

“Bertholdt!” Armin, upon his neck. “Are you two sure about this? You’re going to go home and leave your friend behind?”

Annie…

“You’re leaving Annie behind? Right now… Annie’s deep underground in Utopia District, to the far north… where they’re torturing her…”

No, no that couldn’t be true.

“As soon as they heard her screams, they realized… The wounds on her body might heal, but she can’t make the pain go away. They’re being careful not to kill her, of course, but they won’t let her rest. At this very moment, they’re inflicting pain on her in every way they know how—”

No, Annie…

“Children of the Devil!” Bertholdt… “I’ll kill every last one of you!”

At Bertholdt’s scream, Reiner looked down. At the sight of the Commander, he knew it was all over. Eren was falling; Eren was in Mikasa’s arms. They’d lost. He reached out to the retreating Survey Corps in a last attempt at recovering the Coordinate, but there was no moving with the Titans surrounding him, suppressing him.

It was over. He wouldn’t be able to last against so many Titans on his own. Bertholdt’s Titan was useless in a retreat. They needed Annie. They needed Marcel.

This was all his fault.

In an act of hopelessness and indignation, he picked up one of the smaller Titans and hurled it at their formation. He didn’t care who he killed. He didn’t care. He was on the brink. He was in a corner. So, he hauled another onto his shoulders, and he threw. If Eren was eaten, all the better. Perhaps the one to inherit his Titan would be less of a maniac. Perhaps, they’d be like Marcel. Then, they could go home.

Home…

With that on his mind, he could move. With that on his mind, he could push through hordes of Titans to his goal. In the face of Death, in the face of failure, he could do anything if home was the goal.

Lightning…

No, that wasn’t lightning. What was that?

Was that… the Coordinate?

What was that scream?

All of the Titans upon his back, all of the Titans begging for his nape, left him. They all ran past him, away, to devour another Titan. It was a Pure Titan. There was no reason for them to target it.

Unless…

Eren had the Coordinate. He could use it. The situation couldn’t be worse. Eren, of all people…

We have to get it back.

The last person in this world who should have that power is you, Eren.

“Stay back, you bastards! I’ll kill all of you!”

Eren’s voice reverberated in his very soul. That lightning was behind his eyes again, and he knew it was over. There was no escaping the horde Eren directed their way. There was no escaping his sins. Eren had promised an excruciating death; this was it. He would be devoured if he didn’t run. He would be devoured if he ran.

Bertholdt… I can’t keep him safe!

Bertholdt was screaming. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing.

Nothing…

But then, something so inexplicable happened.

Ymir came back.Ymir saved Bertholdt. Ymir fought the Titans along with him. For some reason, she’d chosen them; for some reason, he’d live another day. So, he ran. He ran until he couldn’t run anymore. He ran until his mind was numb. He ran until Ymir had to take over. And she ran until they were atop Wall Maria, the same Wall they’d destroyed those many years ago.

And, as they caught the breath they hadn’t anticipated in their lungs, he found only one question upon his lips.

“Ymir, why did you come back for us?”

“Well… Must be because I’m an idiot.” They didn’t laugh. “I’m here so you’ll have something to hand over. You guys can’t go home empty handed, right?”

He couldn’t believe it. “Do you understand there’s no hope of you being rescued if we go home from here? If you’re going to run… Now’s the time.”

“What’re you talking about, dumbass? I’m tired out. I’ve just had enough. I’m done.” In that moment, he had to agree. He felt done. Done with the hand he’d been dealt; done with the world; done with life.

“Ymir, why did you rescue me?” It seemed Bertholdt didn’t believe it either.

“Maybe because I heard your voice… If you hadn’t come to destroy this Wall, I would’ve been stuck in an endless nightmare. All I did was repay a debt. I’m the only one who knows about your situation, too… I’m the same way… I was hopeless on my own.” She reached toward the sky. The gesture pained him. He’d seen another hand reach for the stars so many times.

“Thank you, Ymir… I’m sorry.” Bertholdt was crying. If Reiner didn’t feel absolutely void, he would be as well.

“It’s fine… Being a goddess doesn’t feel so bad, either.”

He didn’t know about that.

But, something stuck with him. She’d said she would have been in an endless nightmare if they hadn't come to destroy the Wall. As he watched the stars parade across the sky, he had to agree, at least in some respect. If he’d never come there, he never would have experienced life. He never would have experienced friendship. He never would’ve experienced love. Within the Walls, he’d found a love for the World he’d never known. He’d wished for forever. He’d wished for a future. He’d planned a future. He’d found love.

He’d found (f/n).

She was everything he’d wanted. She was everything he’d known. She was everything he was never meant to know.

But, now, he realized that that destruction was a double edged sword. That destruction had led him to his present moment. That destruction had initiated his own endless nightmare, and there was no deliverance.

You deserve it, Reiner.

Next

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun/reader #aot #snk manga #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #bertholdt hoover #attack on titan ymir #historia reiss

[galaxy-notes]

may day notes re: organizing

before covid19 and perhaps before these past 2-3 years, if you were to ask me do i subscribe to one political ideology? i’d say no and just be like i’m a leftist / radical / etc. and i def fuck with anarchists, but i don’t think i am with ONE ideology, no... but now i VERY much see anarchism (which is, truth be told, marx’s original picture of ‘ideal’ communist societies) as an absolutely key piece to the type of radical movement building that’s actually gonna get us to the world we need and want.

i think the combination of covid19 + climate change is unraveling so many things for me and exposing the failure of states as a whole. i was watching INCITE’s abolitionist feminism event today, which left me with something that really stood out: one of the speakers (love them) critiqued the way mutual aid efforts could be co-opted and nonprofit-ized to suit neoliberal capitalism, and how we must hold the state responsible esp to our basic needs. and they also said (paraphrasing) we are in a constant battle between organizing against the state and holding the state accountable. i feel that.

and i’m also like, well which is it? if these states don’t serve us especially in times of crisis, then what could we possibly demand from them?

i truly believe that our ideal image of the world (an image free from oppression, centralization and domination) isn’t some far future, but something that we should be practicing now - which is what anarchists are all about - and something that actually many radical, localized movements are already doing (even if they don’t use the label anarchist* - that’s cool, too). if we don’t start now, we’ll never be able to set it into motion whenever that future arrives. but the idea that it’s something in the “far future” is untrue. for some, pieces of that future are already here. some communities are already set up with solidarity or alternative economies, indigenous folks have been practicing self-governance for ages, and movements have adopted diff practices like decentralization, mutual aid (practiced in many rad disabled/queer/trans communities and most def survivor-led, abolitionist transformative justice groups), radical healing, survival skill sharing and consensus decision-making. getting involved in local movement ecosystems shows us that anarchism isn’t something “pie in the sky,” it’s actually a way of being in the truest forms of community with each other - as independent of the state and interdependent with each other as much as possible.

we are at an unprecedented time and a crisis. we are facing existential threats that we’ve never faced before. we need to radically shift our organizing in a way that meets what we’re up against - not just climate change, covid19 and the start of a series of economic collapses, but fascism at its peak, including increased militarization, advanced weaponry and surveillance tech that is most definitely going to used (and strengthened) against the most vulnerable among us. the surveillance state, the carceral state, the billionaires, and corporate conglomerates may have been resourced and preparing for years, but the rest of us... we are, altogether, very unprepared for this.

we cannot return to the world the way it was before. we cannot be waiting on a political savior to come and rescue us. we cannot turn to the government and beg that they give us basic human rights. we cannot be demanding (which is still asking for permission) corporations and negotiate through meetings and achieve wins after campaigning for months or even years. we cannot continue to simply rely on unions or ask for more jobs when that doesn’t get to the core of what is denying us the things we need to survive + thrive as full human beings. we do not have time to wait for policymakers and politicians and legislature to pass proposals because this planet is not waiting for us. we need to let go of old models of organizing and begin prioritizing forms of direct action organizing that gets the goods directly and immediately from the source, and most importantly, does not ask nor wait for permission. we need to see ourselves (evolve) in a new way: as leaders and decision-makers of our own lives and communities. fully autonomous with strong, adaptive networks of support.

we needed to fucking end the carceral state, yesterday. we needed to end poverty, yesterday. we needed to get folks into safe houses and into communities of care and support, yesterday. folks who don’t have houses, folks who are in abusive ones, folks occupied and surveillled daily by law enforcement and the US military, folks in prisons and detention centers represent some of the most vulnerable members in our communities. if we do not abolish the state and all its institutions that make these conditions possible for the *most marginalized,* we will end up with a reform “movement” disguised as a “revolution” led by liberals and well-meaning leftists. and the result? continued state violence. the difference? new institutions that provide “band-aid” solutions, but unfortunately set up to allow the exact same forms of violence again, enacted and shadow-led by white supremacists, war criminals and monsters like jeff b*zos. we need to completely redefine “wealth” so that billionaires don’t even get the slightest chance to emerge victorious, where global capitalism is fully abolished - and that starts with creating alternative ways of living and being with one another.

i am feeling a great sense of urgency to get together, thoroughly learn what is coming for us and what is already here, and engage in deep strategy. this requires us to plan how we create and further alternative systems of living + continue to engage in direct action organizing that supports a diversity of tactics and fundamentally challenges what or who is legal/illegal.

as an immigrant/settler on colonized grounds, i recognize how decolonization will be (and always has been) at the center of this upcoming shift. as someone whose family and ancestors were not forced captive and stolen from their homelands to be exploited on stolen land, i am aware that if indigenous (+black) folks want me off, i am ready to pack my bags and go. (edit: in re-reading this after having learned about indigenous sovereignty and what that looks like, this does not make much sense as the land does not “belong” to people, at least not in the way we currently perceive of land ownership under colonial conditions). if not, indigenous leadership (across borders) must be at the forefront when it comes to how to we restore our relationship to this land, with ourselves and with each other. although not indigenous (in nepali terms) myself, i am prepared to bring in my people’s own ancestral knowledge of the land and community healing to uplift this practice. i am also prepared to bring in my personal reflections, including everything i learned from experiences with my family and my childhood to newfound knowledge and wisdom i have (and am currently) building up through mentor- and community-based relationships where i am. 

we are faced with a unique moment we could not have predicted, and this requires us to open our mind to every radical possibility.

there is no going back.

*especially important to note if communities don’t use the term ‘anarchist’ because they have their own definition of how they exist and relate to one another independent of the state 

#anarchism #communism #movement building #may day #grassroots organizing #labor movement #liberation #revolution #post #long post