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corrodedcorpses · 1 year

Text

Boys on Film. Part iv

Pairing: PS!Steve x PS!Eddie x Virgin!reader

Summary: It's been a year since you last saw Eddie and Steve. The last place you expected to see them again for the first time was at a club while you were out with your new boyfriend. The night does not go how you imagined it at all.

Warnings: Smut (18+ MDNI), public sex (ish), fingering, angst, cheating (sorry)

Word count: 6.8K

a/n: I hope this kind of makes up for the ending of the last chapter but also I'm sorry in advance. (also as always a massive thank yous to my babies @andvys @wroteclassicaly @usedtobecooler @bimbobaggins69 for all of your help I love you all so much)

Taglist is closed but if you want an update on when I post the next chapter you can follow my fic account @corrodedcorpsesfics and turn on notifications🖤

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4.5

Steve and Eddie stare at your closed door that had just been slammed in their face moments ago. It had all gone so wrong, so fast. Neither of them had meant for it to go that way or to fight like that with you. All of their (and your own) long harboured emotions coming out during the fight, all of the love turning into hate in order to protect your hearts from - what you all assumed - would no doubt be rejection.

Eddie is the first to break eye contact with your door. Scoffing and walking toward his van as Steve leans his head on the door, closing his eyes trying to will you to open it again. He’s almost sure he can hear tiny sobs coming from the other side and it feels like his heart is breaking all over again.

He can hear Eddie behind him, pacing and grumbling out “shit”, “fuck” and mumbling “that was so stupid” over and over again. Steve is frozen in place, he knows as soon as he breaks away from your door that it’s all over, that he’ll have to face the reality of what just happened. He doesn’t know if he can do that yet.

A loud smack, that was obviously Eddie’s palm hitting his car, finally jolts Steve out of his self pity. He finally turns to him, watching as Eddie continues to pace and mumble expletives under his breath, his ringed fingers running through his hair with so much force Steve thinks he’s about to rip it all out.

“Eddie,” he tries, too quietly as the other man doesn’t stop.

He glances at your door one more time before sighing and walking up to Eddie.

“Eddie,” he says more firmly, standing next to where he continues to pace, “come on man-”

“Don't you ‘come on man’ me,” Eddie interrupts, whipping around to finally look at Steve, “what the fuck was that, Harrington.”

Steve flinches at the use of his last name, something Eddie only uses to tease or hurt him.

“What the fuck was what, Munson?” Steve throws his own surname back at him with just as much venom, Eddie squinting his eyes into a glare.

“All that,” Eddie explains, wildly gesturing to your house, “bullshit you pulled in there. ‘At least you wouldn’t have been a virgin in your twenties’,” he mocks what Steve had said to you.

“The bullshit I pulled?” Steve almost shouts back, “What about you, huh?” He asks, a finger poking into Eddie’s chest to reiterate his point. “You didn’t break that shit to her gently at all! No wonder she went straight into ‘defence mode’.”

Eddie just rolls his eyes at him, even though he knows Steve's right.

The action only angers Steve more. “I wasn’t even in that stupid argument until you dragged me in with your bullshit about hanging out with King Steve.”

Eddie visibly cringes at the memory of using Steve’s old title, one he knew Steve loathed and has done years of work to be anything but. But, Eddie couldn’t let Steve ‘win’ the argument. If he did he would have to admit that all of this was his fault.

“Whatever,” Eddie scoffs, “the argument only turned nasty as soon as you put your 2 cents in! The shit you said was just—” Eddie pauses, remembering how Steve had teased him for not ‘making a move’ on you sooner, saying everyone thought you were Eddie’s ‘property’ during high school, outing him for scaring away anyone that dared to get close to you because he knew that weren’t good enough for you, “mean.”

Eddie whispers the last word. The only word he could come up with to express how he felt, how that whole argument transported him right back to his teenage years, something he truly thought he had gotten over from the help of you and Steve. Something he obviously was far from getting over.

Steve’s demeanour changes, he can see the hurt in Eddie’s eyes, the sliver of vulnerability that he’s been hiding behind his rage. He understands the weight that one word holds.

“I didn’t intend for it to be mean, I just, I don’t know, it just–-” he’s taken aback, stuttering through some sort of an explanation, but there isn’t one. He was mean.

“It’s like you wanted to hurt her,” Eddie continues, but he doesn’t mean just you, “hurt me.” He whispers so softly, he’s sure Steve wouldn’t even hear him. But Steve does.

“What? Why would I want to hurt someone I love!” Steve says too quickly in response, eyes widening when he realises what he just said, what he just confessed to Eddie. But when he looks at Eddie he only sees hurt in his eyes.

Eddie still doesn’t think Steve heard him say ‘hurt me’, so he takes Steve’s confession as a confession of love for you, not you and him.

Eddie just laughs with no humour, shaking his head. “I was fucking right, I fucking knew you hadn’t changed – you’re such an asshole, man.”

The cogs in Eddie’s head turn, thinking back to how Steve had said all those things against him, no doubt finally seeing his opportunity to put a wedge between you both, so Steve could finally have you all to himself.

Steve just stares at him in shock as whatever fragments of his heart that were left break even further. He didn’t think Eddie loved him back but there was some part of him that had hoped, that had at least thought Eddie would be nice about it, gentle with his heart even if he didn’t want to keep it.

He didn’t think Eddie would laugh in his face and call him an asshole.

“Wow,” Steve says to himself in disbelief, “okay.” He feels the tears well up in his eyes as his chest physically aches from all of the heartbreak tonight. He doesn’t want Eddie to see him break down, he'd no doubt laugh at his misery.

He starts to walk away from Eddie, it’s the only thing he can think to do. It’s only a couple of miles to his house, the air isn’t too cold and it’s not too late — he can easily just walk home, he thinks.

“Steve?” Eddie questions as the other boy starts to hurry away from him, “Steve!” He tries again, an air of worry in his voice as he calls out, “Seriously? You’re just gonna walk away from me too huh?” Eddie yells.

“Whatever man,” Steve yells back, already at the end of your driveway, stopping only when his shoes hit the road to look back at Eddie, “you basically just rejected me so, I don’t need this shit anymore.” Steve spits, mentally cursing the way his voice wobbles as he says it. He continues down the road, needing to get as much distance between him and Eddie before he can finally break down.

“What?” Eddie says too quietly, he realises when Steve doesn’t respond, “rejected you?” he shouts this time. But still Steve doesn’t stop.

“Steve! Would you — shit,” Eddie curses. He’s so confused about what Steve meant, he’s so confused about this whole evening but he needs to know. The tiny sliver of his heart that is holding onto hope needs to know what Steve meant.

Eddie runs around to the drivers side and launches himself into his van. Cursing when the engine turns over way too many times before it finally roars to life. He swings out of the driveway like a madman, thanking the universe that you live on a quiet street.

He catches up with Steve quickly, slowing the van down until he’s driving right beside him. He’s happy he never listened to you and Steve about needing to roll his windows up.

“Steve, would you just stop,” Eddie pleads.

“No,” is all Steve replies.

“Steve,” Eddie pleads exasperatedly, “what did you mean?”

But Steve doesn’t answer and he doesn't stop walking. He hopes if he ignores Eddie long enough that he will just leave him alone.

And he thinks his plan worked when Eddie suddenly drives forwards down the road. But, those hopes are shattered when Eddie parks a little bit ahead of Steve and hops out.

Steve finally stops walking as he sees Eddie running towards him. He should just turn around and walk away, circle back around at the other end of your street, it’s a longer way to walk but at least he wouldn’t have to see Eddie. But he doesn’t, his feet won’t let him move. He sees Eddie rushing towards him and his whole body aches for Eddie to just hold him as he breaks down and melts into his arms.

When Eddie finally gets to Steve he’s quick to invade his space, cupping his face tenderly in both of his hands. Eddie searches Steve’s eyes, he can see the unshed tears threatening to spill, the hurt and the tiny bit of hope Steve also holds. It’s enough for Eddie to ask again, even if it could mean more heartache.

“Steve,” he whispers so tenderly, it makes Steve’s knees almost buckle, makes it even harder to not just fall at Eddie’s feet and beg him to love him back, “what did you mean?”

Steve swallows, hard. He looks into Eddie’s big, brown, pleading eyes. He knows he’s about to get his heart smashed, completely obliterated when he explains himself, but he can’t stop his mouth from moving. God, he would do anything Eddie asked while he cradled his face so delicately and looked at him like that.

“I basically just told you I wanted you,” he whispers, eye’s never leaving Eddie’s “a-and you just told me to, to get fucked.” He closes his eyes trying to will his tears to stay at bay, the last sentence coming out all wobbly as he tries to stop his bottom lip from trembling.

“Steve…” Eddie says in a way that has Steve opening his eyes again. He’s met with confusion and yearning swimming in Eddie’s beautiful brown orbs. “You want me?” Eddie asks in disbelief, “I - I thought you were talking about her!” It comes out like a question, like a plea.

“I was,” Steve says, and he can see Eddie’s eyes start to fall, feel his hands on his cheeks loosen, Steve is quick to grab Eddie’s wrists, keeping his hands on his cheeks before quickly continuing, “I was talking about both of you, idiot.” He says the last word fondly, with a hint of a smile dancing on his still trembling lips.

Eddie can’t help but return a small smile of his own. Steve wants him too. He leans forward to capture Steve’s lips with his own. It’s the only thing he can think to do in the moment, the only thing his body will let him do. Steve returns the kiss immediately. It’s soft, so soft that it sears their lips, all of the passion and pent up feelings and anger from the last hour coming out in the way their lips and tongue dance together so slowly.

Eddie finally pulls back after they’ve run out of air, resting his forehead against Steve’s. “I like you too,” he whispers, just in case it wasn’t obvious, revelling in the way it makes Steve smile, “I like you both too.”

Steve pulls back to look at Eddie properly, he can see the mix of happiness and regret all over Eddie’s face.

“Oh.” Steve says. It’s all he can say, he sees the whole argument differently now, sees how stupid they both had been. He realises why Eddie said and did what he did and regrets the things he said to him. Knowing how much more they would have hurt now.

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Eddie replies.

“We're idiots.” Steve sighs.

“Yep.” Eddie agrees.

“Should we… go back inside?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head knowingly, “give her some time, trust me.”

He thinks back to all the times you showed up at his trailer door, sheepishly asking if you could spend the day or the night or the weekend when you were upset. Always claiming to need space from your family after you fought. Eddie never realising what you needed wasn’t space, what you needed was him.

But you never told him that.

So, they do give you time. They give you a day to cool off, to sit with your thoughts before they call, but are only met with silence in return. They try again a day later — and again another day after that. They try to go over to your house a week later but you’re either not there or are pretending not to be.

They try again and again and again until trying every day turns into every two days, which turns into trying every week, which turns into trying every now and then over the next couple of months. The last time they tried was months later when they had had a particularly rough day and just needed you.

All of this was met with silence.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you kicked them out, but you hadn’t expected them to just leave. You had expected them to at least come back later that night or the next day.

Not call you late the next night like that would make up for anything and you didn’t expect it to take them a full week of calling before coming over to try and see you.

All of this just seemed to cement the idea in your head that they didn’t care about you as much as you'd been stupid enough to believe they did.

You didn’t realise how upset and borderline distraught this had also made them. You didn’t realise how upset they were after every failed attempt. How they had both sat on the kitchen floor in their new apartment months later and cried, surrounded by half unpacked boxes after that final time they tried, and failed, to call. Because none of this felt right without you.

And they didn’t realise how you’d done the exact same thing on the floor in your kitchen that night, cursing yourself for not just picking up the damn phone this time.

*******

You hold the two dresses up against your body, one at a time. Trying to decide between the black — tight, revealing and super uncomfortable or the dusty pink — a stark contrast, more modest, cute and comfortable.

You’d spent the last hour getting ready for your date with your boyfriend of about 6 months, Bradley. He was… nice… and fun… and, well, a good distraction. It was nice to feel needed. But, you know deep down that it ultimately won’t go anywhere.

There’s just something… missing. A spark? Passion? Familiarity? The fact that he’s not Eddie or Steve?

You groan at yourself for even having that thought, dropping the dresses back on your bed as your eyes land on the picture on your dresser next to your mirror. It’s a cute photo of you, Eddie and Steve, faces squished together and giant smiles plastered on your faces. A photo you still can’t bring yourself to get rid of.

You sigh and flip it over as you seem to before every date, the picture somehow making you feel guilty. As if the two people in the photo hadn’t completely broken your heart. But you know you’ll just put it back to its original position as soon as you get home again.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, before you make the mistake of going down that black hole of missing them once again. You decide to just go for the revealing, uncomfortable dress — knowing Bradley would probably like it more, praise you for showing off the curves you mostly hid from him.

You’ll hopefully be too drunk to feel the discomfort anyway.

*****

The club is loud and packed when you arrive with Bradley, the bass and the stench of spilled sugary drinks overwhelming. You clutch the strap of the purse that’s across your chest nervously, there’s a split second where you want to turn around, hightail it out of there and cuddle up at home by yourself instead. You from a year ago would’ve, but you’re not that same person anymore.

“Drinks?” He yells at you over the music. He’s at least courteous enough to keep a tight arm around your waist, hugging you in close to shield you slightly from the rowdy party goers who already had one too many to drink.

“Please,” you yell back before you both make your way to the bar. Winding through the growing crowd of rowdy people, his hand heavy on your skin, feeling out of place.

You rest your forearms against the bar, wincing at the sticky feeling underneath. You watch as the bartenders flit around, making the various overpriced, overly sweet drinks for the other patrons who arrived long before you.

Your eyes wander as you wait, taking in the neon signs behind the bar, the shelves of alcohol with countless cheap labels, smiling as you see two girls overly excited to see each other, the guys next to you obviously getting rejected by the girls standing in front of them, the couple that can't seem to keep their hands off each other at the very end of the bar –- wait.

Wait.

You stare at the couple for longer than you should. Your brain taking a second to catch up with your eyes. You can only see the back of the guy as you take in his dark clothes, the chain bracelet on his wrist, the tattoos littered along his pale skin, the bats adorning his forearm, the long mop of curly brown hair- No. No no no no no.

Eddie?

Your head starts to spin, and not just from the overwhelming atmosphere of the club. Why is he here? Why now? Why is he with a girl? You curse yourself for even thinking that last part and for the pang of jealousy in your chest. You’re here with your boyfriend, you can’t be getting jealous of the guy who broke your heart being here with some other girl.

Even if he was your best friend for all of highschool, the only person who got you through that hell hole, one of the only people you’ve ever truly trusted, truly loved, who you definitely still love more than your own boyfriend as much as you try to pretend you don't, whose back is doing more things for you than your boyfriend has the whole time you’ve been dating, who kisses so much better than him, who looks really good right now kissing… Steve?!

It’s only then that Eddie turns slightly, giving you a glimpse of the ‘mystery girl’. You feel like you’re gonna be sick. What are they doing? Here? Together? God they look so good.

All thoughts fail you as you’re mesmerised watching them. The way their bodies press against each other, how Eddie has both hands lazily in Steve's back pockets as Steve's hands fist the front of Eddie’s shirt. Your cunt aches at the way their lips move together as though they’ve done this a thousand times.

They probably have done this a thousand times, you realise. They way they are standing, so relaxed with each other, like there's no hurry to the makeout session, like they have all night.

You're confused and hurt as you watch them. You can’t help but wonder if they’re together, they make a hot couple afterall. But you can’t help the awful feelings that that realisation arises. All of your fears from a year ago come flooding back, you were right. They never wanted you.

Before you can fully spiral you see Bradley’s hand wave in front of your face, it’s then that you realise he’s been talking to you and you see a stressed bartender give you a forced yet polite smile, as they wait for you to tell them what you want.

“Hello? y/n?” He asks, concerned.

“Huh?” You reply, dumb, unable to take your eyes off of them — it’s all your brain can come up with as a response, too absorbed in the scene taking place just feet from you.

“What would you like?” He asks, like he’s already asked you multiple times. You rip your eyes away from them, focusing on Bradley’s face that’s still soft and full of admiration, as if you hadn’t been actively ignoring him. As if time hadn’t just stood still, as you watched on in what could only be described as devastation.

“Oh-- ah-- just my usual,” you say finally, glancing back at Eddie and Steve. Watching as Steve’s hand curls into Eddie's hair, it’s longer now, you realise. I wonder if it would still be as soft or if - you shake that image out of your head. “Maybe some shots? Patreon or tequila, you like both right?” You add quickly.

Bradley seems surprised but compiles, ordering one of his own. You take the small glass in your hand, bringing it up to your lips, the strong smell already paralysing, before downing it as fast as you can. You make the mistake of glancing at Eddie and Steve again as you do, finding yourself making eye contact with Steve, realising they’re both looking at you now. You almost choke on the drink in your mouth, wincing at how the liquid burns more than usual as it slides down your throat.

You grab your drink and Bradley's hand, quickly leading him to the dancefloor. Needing to get as much space between you and the boys as possible.

Eddie and Steve watch you take the other guy's hand with dark eyes. You spare a glance back seeing Steve’s angry eyes as Eddie whispers something in his ear.

Angry? What does he have to be angry about?

You weave in and out of the crowd as they stumble and bump into you, the alcohol making them stagger on their feet and spill their drinks haphazardly on the floor. The further you get lost into the sea of people the more you try to shake Steve and Eddie out of your head, determined to still have a good time despite the anxiety that has wrapped its way around your chest.

Once you’re almost in the centre of the dancefloor, safely concealed by the thrawl of dancers, you turn to your boyfriend. You pull him in close, rocking your hips to the sound of the music and giving him a forced smile.

You dance with him for a while, getting lost in the music as you feel the alcohol seep through your body. Although it does nothing to settle the ugly feeling deep in your stomach. As much as you try you can’t help but spare little glances around the club, not being able to stop yourself from aching for just one more glance at them.

You finally see them, startled by the fact that they’re only a couple of people away from you. Steve is the only one actually dancing but Eddie is happily swaying with him, more than content with and touching Steve and placing gentle kisses all over his neck. Your chest tightens further at the need to tease Eddie about finally dancing, the realisation that you can’t joke with him like that anymore and the jealousy that he would come out to the dancefloor with Steve, even though he never would for you.

As these ugly emotions swirl around your stomach you realise they’re both watching you, stealing glances the same way you are, but a lot less subtly. Your blood boils at the looks they're giving you, they seem hurt and angry and almost… sad? They have no right to.

You turn your attention back to Bradley, you make out and grind against him, every now and then looking at them both and winking when you see them clench their jaws.

You’re confused as you continue your show. What do they have to be angry about? Why do they even care that you’re dancing with someone that isnt them? There was a time when they could’ve had you, a time when you would’ve done anything for them but they were the ones who threw you away. They have no right to be angry now.

Bradley leans down to whisper in your ear, you’re hopeful that he’s going to say something hot, a compliment or something, instead he lets you know he’s going to get more drinks, leaving you alone in the crowd before you can say anything else. You try to not look anxious about being alone in such a dense crowd of strangers, knowing Bradley is going to take a long time with how packed it is.

You find some comfort knowing that Steve and Eddie are close by, although you’re not sure why. You decide to continue dancing, doing the most to look as hot and unbothered as possible, but when you spare another glance at Steve and Eddie you’re surprised to find they’ve also gone. It’s weird how their absence has made you feel more alone than Bradley’s.

You start to leave, deciding to head outside for some fresh air before going to find Bradley where he’s no doubt still waiting at the bar. That is, until you feel hands lightly on your waist. You start to panic, until you hear the stranger whisper in your ear.

“Hey there, little one.”

Eddie.

Your body shudders at hearing his voice again. You have to fight every nerve in your body to not melt back into him, turn around and wrap your arms around him and cry into his chest. But you don’t, you're frozen in place instead.

“We liked that little show you put on for us, sweetheart,” he continues as you feel his hands massage small circles in your hips as he presses himself closer to you, you can feel the outline of his semi against your ass and it takes everything in you not to moan at the feeling.

He starts to rock you both to the music before pressing gentle kisses along your neck. So feather light you’re not sure if you’re actually imagining them, just some mean trick your mind is playing on you. You start to melt back against him, your body betraying you as it’s automatically drawn into the safety of Eddie’s chest and arms.

You let yourself get caught up in the feeling before reality comes crashing down. You have a boyfriend, he has a boyfriend, you can’t be doing this. You snap out of the weird trance you’ve been in, pulling away from Eddie and finally turning to face him, fully preparing yourself to tell him off before you see the look on his face.

It causes your breath to hitch as you see the pure lust written all over his face, his blown and glassy pupils staring into your soul and the possessiveness buried deep inside them that makes your thighs clench.

You go to take a step back, needing space between you both but your back collides with another chest instead. Another set of lips brushing your ear as they whisper lowly to you.

“Don't be like that, honey.”

Steve.

Your head swims at the proximity of both of them. The familiar smells and feel of them crumbling whatever stubborn exterior you were trying to portray.

You feel Steve's hands run along the sides of your waist and down your thighs before tracing light patterns back up again, your dress pulling up at the sides as he does. He pushes against you as Eddie had, although he is a lot more worked up from your little show than Eddie was — a testament to how he always was more of the jealous type.

“Can you feel what your little show did to us baby?” He asks like you’ve wounded them. Eddie pushing against you at the same time. “You’re so fucking naughty, getting us all worked up like that.”

“Anything to say for yourself, miss?” Eddie asks when you don’t respond right away. How could you? Your head feels like it's about to spin off your shoulders, your cunt feels like it’s about to start dripping down your thighs, they’ve thoroughly wrecked you with no more than some gentle touches, barely any grinding and a couple of words whispered seductively in your ears.

You only manage a small moan in response, one that you’re thankful only they can hear over the loud music.

They both chuckle at your response, knowing they have you right where they want you. Loving how fucking easy you are for them.

Steve’s fingers continue to dance along your thighs as Eddie’s hand comes to rest on your waist again, both of them pressing into you and swaying you to the music, causing their hardening cocks to grind against you.

Steve's fingers slide to the front of your dress, tracing up the inside of your thighs as you let out a little whimper. Steve smirks against your skin as he starts to kiss up your throat as Eddie had just before. Your eyes start to flutter shut as Steve’s fingers inch higher, so close to where you desperately need him.

“That feel nice, pretty girl?” Steve asks, although he already knows the answer, “want me to keep going?”

Eddie keeps his eyes trained on your blissed out face, sucking on his bottom lip as he anxiously waits for your answer.

You nod your head slowly, words failing you as you melt back into Steve.

“Ah, ah,” Eddie tuts, “you know the rules princess, use your words.”

“P-please.” You barely breathe out, and Eddie’s sure he would’ve missed it if his eyes weren't glued to your lips.

He nods at Steve, who groans as his fingers finally make contact with your dripping cunt, feeling the slick that’s soaked through your panties.

Eddie holds your waist tighter, half keeping you upright as your legs start to shake, half shielding you from any onlookers as he continues to sway his hips, making it look like you three were just dancing.

Steve dips his fingers into your underwear, moaning in your ear as he gathers your slick on his thick fingers before rubbing your clit.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he teases, “this is all for us huh?”

You can only nod and whine in response, too far gone to be embarrassed by how close they were getting you already. No one except for Steve and Eddie have been able to get you this close this fast.

You feel the coil in your stomach tighten further as Steve's thick digits breach your aching cunt, finding a steady pace immediately, his palm dragging deliciously over your slick clit. Eddie’s grip on your waist becomes so tight you’re sure he’s gonna leave bruises that you’re going to have to try and explain to Bradley later, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re happy that he’s at least holding you somewhat upright as your knees start to get weak.

Eddie presses further into you still to keep you upright, so far that Steve can feel Eddie’s hard cock pulsing against his hand even through his jeans. Making Steve’s cock ache for some sort of release as he starts to rock gently into your ass. Craving some relief.

You feel the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching as you teeter on the edge. Only able to get out small sputters of “I’m, I’m—” before you’re burying your face in the crook of Eddie’s neck as your orgasm comes crashing into you.

Your ears ring and your vision goes white as you ride out your orgasm around Steve’s fingers, rutting against his hand while clinging to Eddie.

When you finally start to come down from your high you’re barely aware of the music still blaring around you, focusing only on Steve’s hands rubbing soothing circles in your thighs, Eddie’s hand in your hair and their praises gently flowing through your ears.

Suddenly, reality hits you like a truck. Completely cracking the walls of whatever weird dream you’ve been trapped in with Eddie and Steve. Suddenly everything seems too much, their touch is suffocating and grating against your skin, the music of the club is blaring too loud, rocking your skull and their sweet whispers might as well be screams in your ear.

You need to get away.

You finally look at Eddie, his eyes meeting yours. He knows that look.

“y/n-,” he tries as you start to squirm out of their grip.

“Let me go”, you suddenly hiss at him, finally breaking free and rushing through the crowd and out the door. You hear them yell after you, but you keep going, their voices being drowned out by the music the further you get away from them.

By the time you finally make it outside you feel as if you can hardly breathe. Your chest is so tight and you struggle to take shallow breaths, you can feel the unshed tears prick your eyes as you try and will them to keep at bay. Although you’re not sure why, you’re almost certain your makeup must be a mess now, most of it left on Eddie’s collar, you doubt a couple of tears would really make much of a difference.

You shakily reach into the clutch still thankfully secured across your chest, fishing out a smoke. You put one between your lips as you try, but fail to find your lighter. You sigh in frustration, of course you’ve lost your lighter.

“Here, let me.” You hear someone whisper, before you see the flicker of a lighter in front of your lips. You don’t have to look up from your clutch to know that it’s Eddie. Your eyes meet his timid ones as you lean forward, using the flame to light the end of your cigarette.

“Thanks,” you mumble before looking beside Eddie, realising Steve also followed you out here.

You all stand in awkward silence, Eddie busying himself by lighting his own cigarette.

“I– ah,” Steve finally breaks the silence. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he needs you to hear, but the words won't form, instead he opts for, “didn’t know you smoked.”

You snort half a laugh, shaking your head. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say but it definitely wasn't that. Sorry would have been a good start… but at least you’re talking, you guess.

“There’s a lot you both don’t know about me anymore,” you reply, deadpan. You see them both visibly flinch at the implication of your words. It's been over a year since they last saw you, you've had a whole year's worth of experiences without them, would they even recognise the person you'd become?

You bring your smoke back up to your lips, thankful for the distraction it provides and for how it's almost calming most of your nerves.

It doesn't, however, distract you enough to not feel their hungry eyes on you. You're surprised your dress doesn't have holes burnt into the fabric with how hot and heavy their gazes are. You adjust your dress with your free hand trying to pull the fabric down, cursing yourself now for wearing the revealing dress.

You don’t want them to see you squirm, you need to keep up this teasing, nonchalant act you were trying to portray, you couldn't let them know how much seeing them again was hurting you.

“See something you like?” You slur seductively at them, not shying away from their eyes. Even as your palms sweat and your heart rattles in your chest.

They both chuckle and shake their heads, not in disagreement but at the absurdity of your question. Of course they did. You looked stunning, confident. In a dress you usually would be too shy to wear. It was nice to see you like this, but it was also weird.

Not weird in a bad way, it just hurt. It hurt them to see that you finally seemed to be growing into yourself and hopefully finally seeing how beautiful you were. Except it was without them.

“You seem… different,” Eddie finally managed. He couldn't think of a better way to put it. Not better, not worse, just different. But that's what heartbreak will do to a person.

“I am different.” You say back, no hidden meaning behind it, like it’s that simple.

They were different. You were different. You’d just grown away from each other. You’d all changed and grown in the year that had passed, in the year that you had all ached for each other. Now here you were, and it felt like you were talking to strangers.

You had a picture of them on your dresser that you saw everyday, and yet it felt like those two men were different from the ones that stood in front of you now.

It makes your whole body ache.

You want to fill the silence, distract yourself from the heavy feeling. You want to mess with them, annoy them, make them even more jealous and angry and hurt than they’ve already seemed to have been tonight.

“Trust me,” you say finally, “I’ve had lots of experience since you last saw me.” You wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, trying to joke around with them as if it’s no big deal.

You see their jaws clench. Eddie fights the urge to scoff at you, to roll his eyes, to scream in your face. Steve is a little better at hiding his distaste at what you’re insinuating. Both knowing they have no right to feel as hurt and betrayed as they do right now.

You’re not theirs.

“Well, they must be some lucky guys then.” Eddie tries to speak sincerely. It comes out like venom.

“Hmm,” you hum, revelling in their reactions. Trying to think of what else you can say to rile them up like this. “And girls,” you say with a wink.

Lies, it’s all lies.

You had drunkenly kissed one girl out the back of a club after too many drinks. She was nice and soft and tasted like vodka and raspberries. But that was it… just a kiss.

The furthest you’d gotten with your current boyfriend was some grinding and heavy touches. Always stopping before it got too far. He was always respectful of that, something you appreciated.

They look at you stunned. You could see their brains working a mile a minute. You could tell they were imagining something much more lewd than reality. Victory.

Desperate for this conversation to be over before they pried and realised you were talking all of your experiences up to be something much more, you stomp out your cigarette. Giving them a small smile that said ‘are we done here?’ as you started to walk away.

Before you can get too far you feel a hand desperately grasp your arm. You know it’s Steve before you even turn around.

You see his mouth open as he struggles to find the right words to say but you don’t want to hear it. You can’t.

“Don’t,” you interrupt, before he can even say a single word. His mouth closes as his hand reluctantly lets go of your arm, brushing the skin of your forearm as he drops his hand. You curse your body for the goosebumps that appear along the trail of his fingertips.

You’re about to turn around again when you decide to ask them just one thing. Something that’s been weighing heavy on you since you first saw them at the bar.

“So, um,” you start tentatively, rubbing your hand over the arm that Steve had just touched, unsure if you’re trying to warm yourself up or wipe away the memory of his fingertips, “how long have you been dating?”

They share a look before Eddie slowly mumbles, “a little over a year.”

A little over a year.

The same amount of time since your fight. The guilty looks on their faces let you know it was very shortly after they broke your heart. So while you were alone, completely breaking and having to put yourself back together again all by yourself, they were just having the time of their lives? Starting a new and exciting relationship? Typical.

“Of course you have been,” you scoff. Turning abruptly and stalking away from them as fast as your stupidly uncomfortable heels would let you.

“Y/n wait! It’s not like tha–“ Steve calls after you, desperately trying to catch you before you run off once again. Like he’s worried this time you’ll be gone for good.

“Just leave me alone!” You practically yell. You feel bad for raising your voice and how it makes them flinch but finally, they let you go.

*****

Taglist: @pxrxcxa @eddiemunsonfuxks @translatemunson @bandofoxxking @munsonsbaby @corrodedhawkins @chainsawmunson @divinelyruled @parkermunson @bimbobaggins69 @eddiemunsonspantschain @hammity-hammer

*******

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striveattemptfail · 11 months

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in prime earth canon, jason todd (NOT red hood) was* publicly known to be alive

red hood: outlaw (2018) #32 (ID in alt text)

considering that jason todd was the official owner of the iceberg lounge during this time, it's likely he acquired the lounge legally and thus can be inferred that he had to be declared legally alive to do so

which brings me to my point:

i've seen a lot of people writing/speculating the difficulties and limitations jason experiences bc he was declared legally dead after ethiopia, which is all well and good, and is fantastic fodder for angst

but i've been wondering if this was bc people are actively ignoring canon (valid) or simply didn't know that at one point* jason was publicly alive (also valid, bc following comics is a shitshow lol)

please reblog to increase visibility! the whole point of this poll is to gauge how many people know this, so i'd love to see this post reach as many people as possible. thank you~! 😅🙏

(* big disclaimer under the cut!)

note: all of this info is as of may 2023. i am only one human so it's impossible for me to read every comic jason has been in since rhato (2016) and remember every single thing that happened. if anything i said above the cut is incorrect now, i apologize! /o\

for reference, as of creating this poll i've read:

red hood and the outlaws (2016) #1-26

red hood: outlaw (2018) #27-52

task force z (2021) #1-12

batman: urban legends (2021) #1-6 – cheer pt.1-6

the joker: the man who stopped laughing (2022) #3-5

i haven't read a lot of other important runs like death metal (2020), three jokers (2020), robins (2021), etc. if jason (NOT red hood) was declared dead once again in any of those, that is the reason why i used "was" in the very first sentence of this post and reiterate that he was alive at least for a limited period

my bad that i missed his second legal death tho LOLLL

i'm also aware that red hood (NOT jason) was known as "dead" by others after task force z (even though he clearly didn't die). that said, in the little i've read of tj:tmwsl, it seems that 1) not everyone knows red hood is actually alive, and/or that 2) red hood died at all. again, if red hood is generally known to be alive after tfz, that's on me

if there's anything else i've missed, let me know!! i'll update/reblog this post for as long as the poll is up (-u-)b

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bugs1nmybrain · 2 months

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Shigaraki's Psychological Conditions Headcanons - (a long ass post)

So, I'll preface this by saying I am NOT a psychiatrist and am not qualified to diagnose shit. I do however have a history of personal mental health disorders and am going to school for mental health work. This is mostly just for theory sake. My word is not absolute

Let's begin

warnings: mental illness as title suggests, not proofread and probably has typos

Antisocial Personality Disorder / Conduct Disorder

This one sort of goes without saying cuz duh he's a villain or whatever. I want to specify that in terms of Antisocial Personality, he likely is a sociopath, NOT a psychopath

I hear people call him a psychopath all the time and it's infuriating because people throw around labels without understanding what they mean. Psychopaths are more cunning and charming, and very manipulative. This isn't to say that Tomura is none of those things. Psychopath, however, applies to people like All For One. Almost diplomatic and very persuasive.

Tomura is a sociopath because he's known for recklessness and abrasive behavior. Psychopaths often pretend to have feelings, but for sociopaths aggression is a key emotion that's visibly displayed. They are also able to feel remorse in some cases, and I run this back to Shigaraki because he spent years in what was implied to be repressed guilt regarding the death of his family. Tomura admits it himself in his flashbacks, but ultimately decides to let go of that guilt (that he still fucking feels and is in DENIAL but that's another post). Hence, his forgiving nature toward his mother and sister when he's dreaming during surgery.

Even after Tomura let that burden go, he has no desire to be cool and collected, he just fucks around and finds out. Overall, though, he disregards people's lives and doesn't have remorse for what he's done because he throws his trauma and desires over it as a bandaid. He does show care and consideration to people in the League, though.

The conduct disorder part of it is self-explanatory. He's a violent criminal, lol.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

Duh.

Trauma is pretty much all Tomura has known. I won't reiterate his backstory, but being physically abused and rejected as a child, the murder of his family, being blatantly ignored by people on the streets, and AFO's upbringing? That's a lot

His PTSD is so dehibilitating that it took hold of his body language and behavior. Before the end of s5, Tomura was rigid and hunched over. In the MHA video games, he's also seen as very restless and moving his body around (until s4 era in One's Justice 2). I'll attach a video below.

He's also just very irritable and easily set off at the reminders of his trauma and rejection. "I HATE YOU" is a key example, as up to that point Tomura had been improving his rash behavior, but he's very unsettled by his past and continues to be now.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

His case of OCD is connected to his trauma and emotions. You'll find that a lot of his conditions feed into one another. For him, he has a variant of dermatillomania (often known as the skin picking disorder). For him, that is in the form of scratching rather than picking. But he does it compulsively and without thought, and he does it in attempts to self soothe. I believe he does it occasionally as a self injurious behavior, resulting in itching himself rather than lashing out. He even just does it when he's only moderately anxious or irritated.

Depression

While we don't see Shigaraki slumped in bed or feeling sad in the ways we see in many cases of depression, his "I hate everything" mentality puts him here. Actually, it's safe to say he experiences anhedonia, which is the lack of enjoyment in anything. He seems to somewhat enjoy video games, but his bio states "nothing" as his likes. I'm inclined to believe he feels no personal joy or happiness, and tries to attain that through murderous rage. Never works tho, does it Tomura?

Bipolar Disorder and Unspecified Psychotic Disorder

This one might stir some debates, but I do genuinely think he has a mood disorder. I don't want to feed into stigma that bipolar and psychotic people are "evil," because I myself have these conditions, so maybe I'm projecting lmao. He's definitely not medicated, and so I'd say his case is Bipolar Type 1. This type is characterized by intense manic symptoms, though depressive symptoms can be severe, too.

Tomura has manic tendencies, and he's impacted by mania in that he seems to get spontaneous motivation, but he also will stay stagnant for some time. I saw this as the case when Spinner literally went at Shiggy for putting the League in a complacent stage, but he's done this before, such as when he was in a slump about Stain. When his motivation surges, though, he goes above and beyond and doesn't put extensive thought into it. He just lunges into his desires in pursuit of satisfaction. He also has delusions of grandoisity to some degree and has a moment where he treats himself as invincible. He fought Gigantomachia for almost two months, and kept fucking going at him. Surely, he could've asked the doctor to call him off, but Tomura wanted that power so bad. Tomura also went into his surgery without asking many questions about it. He makes very impulsive decisions, even after people insist that he "matured." He also gets flicked into motivation like a snap of a finger, and proceeds to be lead mostly by endorphins and gratification.

When Tomura experiences what he perceives as a "positive" emotion, it overtakes him. He becomes pretty much engrossed in his bodily sensations. Through maniacal laughter and taunting language that's charged in a hate induced fuel. When Shigaraki has "voila" moments, he has a surge in neuroactivity and gets into aggressive mood stages, but I guess that could apply to most of the villains. I saw this when Deku told him the difference between him and Stain, and Tomura had a surge in manic-like bliss and drive.

I'm not sure if Tomura hearing the voices of his family before his epiphany was just intrusive thoughts, but I thought they may have been auditory hallucinations. Tomura admits to hearing things that aren't there and seeing visual hallucinations, too. Evidenced by:

I hate how the dub translated this into "when you're this tired" as a broad statement. The manga gives this more personal association to Shigaraki, and he says that it happens when he's sleepy, and doesn't specify if it's only when he's extremely sleep deprived or just tired. Also, him staying up for days on end and smiling his ass off reeks of mania. He has delusional sprinkles in his thinking process, but they're not of bizarre nature, and are usually tied to his trauma. At this point in the manga he's very psychotic, though. That has a lot to do with him being fueled with adrenaline and also just breaking out of AFO's control.

I think he is either bipolar type 1 with psychotic features or has a mild case of schizoaffective disorder. Probably the first one, but I'm not sure.

ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder)

This one is more of a gut feeling for me, but I see Tomura as being easily distracted and aloof to his surroundings at times. He's fidgety and does shit on whim.

Also, look at his room.

I'm not saying that everyone with ADHD has a messy room, but from what I can see, he goes from one task, drops it entirely without picking up, and goes to the next. Some could argue that Tomura simply doesn't care, and that's true, but he's at least got some decency to put the shit in trash bags. Trash bags that he HASN'T EVEN TAKEN OUT. I think he gets too caught up in the shit he's focused on that it slips his mind to do simple things like that.

He has spontaneous interests from what I can tell from the many books and toys he has that seem to have gone untouched for some time. He also hyperfixates, and I don't mean interest wise. I mean that when he's dwelling on something, it doesn't leave his mind for DAYS, until he gets some gratification. All Might in s1 and Stain s2 for example.

In conclusion, this boy has a grocery list of conditions, but I love Tomura. I love my beautiful prince with a disorder, and he is so dear to me.

I'm open to discussions about this, but please keep them respectful.

#shiggy #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura headcanons #shigaraki headcanons #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shimura tenko

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allmyloveandyours · 9 months

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Bullying, Harassment, and Misunderstanding on Astro Tumblr: Zeldas Notes Edition pt 1. The Catalyst

Hi! Normally I don't like to get myself involved in online drama since, well it's the internet and drama isn't fun. I shouldn't need to explain myself any further.

Recently a well known account @zeldasnotes, has been involved in a bit of drama and has started slut shaming and attacking the character of someone I've recently become friend with for a misunderstanding. This isn't meant to bully her or attack her in any way, however we have recently found out she continues to talk about me, @evangelinesbible, and @d4rkpluto, for the last two weeks. Obviously we have talked about it as well, I'll never deny that, however it's not bullying. She may call this bullying, though.

Obviously that isn't a lot of time but I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible. I believe the only reason she had yet to harass me is because she 1. Doesn't know my Tumblr username and 2. Doesn't have a physical appearance to attack like she does Evangeline.

Before we get started I'd like to give some context to where this conversation happened.

@d4rkpluto made a discord (that is still open btw it's very fun there) that was meant to host a cool yearbook like event for some people in astro tumblr, the cap was put at roughly 20 people. We all tried our best to get to know each other despite some social mismatching such as language barriers (there will be more on that later). Most of us liked to talk about real life problems along with astrology as we were all friends, but Zelda's had become worrying very fast as she would only most post crime (no hate to true crime, but I don't like waking up to messages about a murdered person and how their chart "predicted it", but that's for another part) and her almost insane personal/love life. Eventually, someone decided to ask her about it out of concern. For the record I did not, as I don't know her personally and I seemed like she was someone content with being in bad situations as she never gave a timestamp of the things she talked about.

This is the conversation that occurred when she was questioned about it.

After that we noticed she left the discord roughly a day later (she probably left right after though), and she blocked/unfollowed everyone but me (lmao), and for that week it became a brief inside joke that if you were acting like Zelda, you we're simply being defensive for no reason.

Now that this part is over,

Pt 2. The DMs

Now this is where we get to the part where I drew the line, where I decided to get on my clicky keyboard and say some shit.

To reiterate, this hasn't been going on for that long. Obviously she was still fresh in our minds and we did bring her up. There was no bullying or lying. Simply a couple of jokes about her being defensive. I will admit, I tried my best to not joke as Zelda is clearly a volatile person and if the small jokes got to her, I figured she'd make a fuss. She did.

On July 26th (fun fact, you can look things up on discord chats) at roughly 10pm she had messaged Evangeline.

Obviously this doesn't make us look THE BEST (I'm aware), however gossip is a normal and human thing as long as not done in excess (imo, this was the biggest conversation we'd had about her since she'd left).

Now this is where I officially come in. I'm #1 Timeout Champion (thats the TC in my name).

I was the one who took the screenshots of the discord channel invite post, as I had found it weird she'd made a discord around July 19th soon after leaving ours. Not that it was my business, but it just made me laugh, and I was feeling weird about it. That is the reason likes were talked about.

I will say this did get made fun of because of what was talked about in the screenshot above, as that was after (check the dates).

Shortly after Eva had received that DM, I'd gotten on call with Eva to make sure she was alright, and she had messaged the discord about the message.

This is where we all started accusing each other of screenshotting the chat. I do understand if you have friends outside of a discord, and I do understand defending yourself, I'm not policing who can and can't be friends. If someone was gossiping about my friend, I'd do the same shit.

But it got worse.

I apologize beforehand for the cropping as these are from Eva (obviously).

Keep in mind every DM screenshot I share is sent between 9/10pm-4am for Eva and I while we were on call.

Keep in mind the photo's of Eva's she's referring to are public and things she wore in public and to a concert, a BEYONCE CONCERT, and then posted images of, ON A PUBLIC SITE, SEVERAL might I add.

She did not call Zelda pathetic, but her actions. I believe there is a difference.

I do feel the need to state here that I feel partially responsible for the harassment here, as I try my best to support Eva in any way that I can to achieve her goals, and I did push her to post about herself more as I like her style and think she's pretty. I did not think that it would be brought up in this style.

Because it shouldn't have been. This should've been a civil (albeit catty) conversation of "talking talk about me, please and thank you". I've had these conversations at a younger age and they've gone very well.

But it kept going as Eva defended herself.

I could be wrong about the screenshot thing, however I did find weird posts asking about where the discord had gone, and Zelda said she didn't have one even thought it was roughly and hour after she'd made the post, along with DMs from someone later about the discord.

The last bit is talking about this:

Yeah so they were talking about people they found attractive (Zelda is clearly in the conversation) and Eva was referencing fictional characters. Imma be fr I feel like you can tell she was joking the entire convo was just about their crushes real and fictional, Zelda then talked about someone who was murdered somehow worked that into the convo.

Just thought I'd include that if we're talking about crushes why the fuck is this shit being brought up but that's clearly more personal opinion.

So that's the entire conversation with Eva. It seemed to just be her trying to get Eva on a nonexistent "gotcha moment" and berating hr for her appearance and making an out of context screenshot more out of context.

Meanwhile in the discord, we'd been trying to figure out who had sent the screenshot, as we should it went from them talking behind the scenes (perfectly fine), getting upset (again fine), and then harassing (not fine) Eva, keeping in mind, Zelda is most likely older than Eva.

Eva being 19, an Zelda being between 22-26 based on her history.

Pt. 3: We figure out who it was this gets no cool title

We thought it was roughly 3 people, two who don't need to be involved and but the last will definitely be mentioned: @a-d-noxd-nox.

The first two people were just people in both Discords, one of us just confirming our convo from earlier when I said it was probably darker topics (which isn't relevant to me). From my perspective, I was fine with Adnox. I hadn't talked to her as much but she seemed okay. I'd wanted to get to know her more and at some point we'd spoken about watching Twilight but that fell through.

So we kicked out Ad-nox, and figured out it was her through process of elimination. I'll slowly start wrapping it up as around the time we kick Adnox out, Zelda had stopped. We still don't know why Adnox decided to shit on Eva specifically. I would love to know personally, but Eva herself doesn't care.

After that, we decided to let people in as seen in an earlier screenshot. We'd simply wanted more friends and it felt weird having an astrology tumblr, but not having a lot of people being in there.

So obliviously we asked if they mentioned us (we wanted to know), they had fairly recently, and we got this exchange with Zelda and some members of her discord:

I've cropped them a bit and censored people I don't believe to be relevant but I hate to be the bearer of bad news: No one is bullying you.

No one is mad you started a discord. It was simply funny for reasons stated above.

No one from this situation has sent hate to your inbox. No one cares enough.

No one asked you to post about true crime. I may have interacted with some on a irregular basis because I like to be friendly.\

We have made jokes. Because you lying is funny and Pluto is known for this, same way you're known for doing this shit.

I will once again state: Talking and joking about a situation you're in is human. This is the internet. This is not real life. Slut shaming a girl younger than you and fixating on her body and photos while preaching about being a good person is fuck-awful, along with lying to others about what happened in order to seem like the victim.

You're not a victim. You decided to fight people in the server when asked about why you choose to be in relationships with criminals and hang around generally questionable people. You took it as a personal attack when reaction images were posted. I can understand that may have felt bad at the time, but that;'s the moment we're you send a "Hello, it really hurt my feelings when..." Rather than a "Keep posting those nude photos" conversation. You wanted to your gotcha moment to prove you were right rather an accept this was a situation where no one was the winner.

Blaming your placements for your behavior will get you, a grown woman, no where. Keeping in mind, your chart is practically Eva and I's combined.

So from people who have a "Scorpio MC" (somethings she's blamed for her behavior), and from someone who has "Mercury square Pluto", it's just you. All of this behavior and the body shaming, the lying, to over exaggerating, it's just you.

You went after Evangeline for a reason. You had an existing relationship with Pluto, in which it seems like you guys were good friends before you did this. It could've been dealt with in a proper and friendly manner, but you chose to make fun of the 19 year old with I assume, a smaller amount of followers, and someone who is less likely to fight you, and someone who won't cause shit.

Great. Good Job.

#astrology #astrology observations #astro notes #astrology notes #astrology tumblr #zodiac #synastry #aries #taurus #cancer #gemini #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #aquarius #pisces #capricorn #sagittarius

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angelofthepage · 2 months

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Thoughts on the "Updated" Bendy Employee Handbook

Before we go any further, let's make it very clear what kind of post this is: we're not here to hate on the book, and none of anything I'm about to say is said with ill intent. I am here for analysis, constructive criticism, and discussion. This post is a little more critical than what I would usually share, so viewer discretion is advised.

Today we're talking about the newly updated Bendy Employee Handbook, which just recently released as of this month at the time of this post. And I have a lot of questions about this entry, and really, game guides as a whole in our modern gaming world. This book appeared to advertise itself as a rerelease of the original handbook with additional content for Bendy and the Dark Revival, but upon comparing the two, I've noticed there's actually a number of changes they've made, some good, some bad, and some that I'm not sure what to make of. So come and join me under the cut, and if you have some thoughts of your own, feel free to comment or reblog and add to the discussion. Without further ado, here we go!

Part 1: The Baffling Amount of Cut Content

Our story begins where most stories do, the table of contents. So right off the bat, when comparing this book to the original, you'll notice something off.

No, your eyes do not deceive you, an entire section of the original book was cut, on top of making other sections shorter. And the weirdest part? Some of these things were exclusive to that original book, they didn't appear anywhere else in the Bendy franchise. So already we're off to a weird start. Some of these missing pages aren't so bad though. In some cases, they're just format changes to make the book flow a little better/take up less room. Sometimes they succeed in that, sometimes they end up feeling more cramped, it's pretty subjective whether or not this improved the book. But it certainly does cut down on pages. Case in point, the beginning of each chapter of BATIM.

Don't worry, Joey's letter hasn't been cut, but it has been moved to earlier in the book, so it's no longer in Chapter 1. This was a very odd change. Other things that are missing are character monologues, but it's inconsistent. Alice Angel's speech about the screaming well of voices and Joey's monologue right before the final boss were kept, but Sammy's "sheep sheep sheep" speech and Bertrum's audiolog right before his boss fight were inexplicably cut.

Here are a few cuts I found pretty significant.

These pages are all missing from the update. In the case of this newspaper article, what does that mean in regards to whether or not this is "canon" or "retconned"? Joey Drew, did you or did you not have plans to expand into a Bendy themed toothpaste? The people need to know! X''D But seriously, while some of this is inconsequential, some of it matters. The mascot costume in particular, that's the only sketch we get (that I'm assuming came from Bertrum or Joey regarding that part of the parks, no one is specifically credited for making it). It doesn't show up anywhere else in the series (to my knowledge). It's strange that it's just, gone now. The Bendyland spread is such an unfortunate loss, that's some of the closest we've ever gotten to seeing the map of the park. Yes you can see it in BATIM, but being able to get up close and personal with it without having to control Henry was really nice. It makes me wonder if they're trying to erase the past details so they can do more with Bendyland in the future, something that's different from the original vision. I don't think that's it, but it could be, though they'd also have to go back on The Illusion of Living too, given it’s discussed there with some really fun details.

Speaking of which, that's the weirdest piece of cut content: the missing section that ends the old book (that was reiterated in The Illusion of Living). It's Joey Drew's tips for making a cartoon. It's formatted differently and has no images in TIOL, but the basic information is still the same. What's not the same though, is the loss of the tutorial pages for drawing the toons. These are another thing that don’t show up anywhere else in the series, making them a much more permanent loss. And even though this section is cut, it’s still referenced on the back cover of the new book, which is a bit odd.

These were really cute and showed so much personality for not just the toons, but for Joey as he described them. Cutting this was genuinely disappointing for me. Same with the paperwork in Joey's apartment. Those were some of the highest quality images we had of what was on his desk and bulletin board, and I liked being able to see them clearer. The biggest loss of the cut content isn’t just the pages themselves, but the personality they gave to this book, and the Bendy world as a whole.

This was the very first Bendy book to be released, and therefore our first look into this world in this format. And while I don’t think it’s the greatest thing in the world in terms of being a game guide, I didn’t pick up the original for a game guide. I picked it up because I wanted to see if it provided more context for the world. And when it does that, it does a good job. The memos from characters we know, Joey’s financial records, the images from the desks of people like Joey and Bertrum, they give us insight into how things were going at the studio. Some of my favorite details from the original are Joey’s memo about how Susie was replaced by Allison, and the receipt for Joe’s Fine Dining. The fact that that memo was distributed to everyone but Susie enhanced what we already knew from BATIM, and it paints him as a much crueler character than we knew him to be. Not to mention the repeated use of “I have to say, I’m an instant fan”. Having Joey say those words makes the concept of him creating the cycle so much more interesting. Like did he script out every little action these characters take? Or is this something Susie picked up and recycled from him after potentially finding this memo in real life? Oh there are so many delicious possibilities. And the lunch date, oh my gosh. One, it started my quest to build the Joey Drew menu using all the things he eats in the books, because damn does he have good taste. And two, it was so cool to have a look into an interaction Susie told us about in that one tape. Like that was REALLY GOOD. Give me more like that! When you have other parts of the series back up things we’ve heard only one character say, it gives more credence to the idea that they actually happened that way, or gives us a clue that we need to check for character biases when they tell us their side of the story. And in a series where MOST characters are unreliable narrators, that is REALLY IMPORTANT for establishing timelines and figuring out what’s real versus what’s fabricated. That was my biggest hope for the update, for more flavortext and world building that expands on things we already know.

But um…the dark revival part of the book doesn’t do that.

Part 2: The Dark Revival’s Minimal Offerings

After an abrupt jump from Bendyland to BATDR, we get into the new stuff. The Bendy and the Dark Revival section of this book is alarmingly short and has very little substance. There is no new expansion of the worldbuilding or insight into these characters. I mean, the book describes Heidi as being a female lost one? So if you wanted a confirmation on her gender, there you go I guess? I guess that detail was never like, stated explicitly, but this is me stretching to find something new that it gives us. Actually, wait, it does give us one new thing, but I’m gonna be honest, it kind of rubbed me the wrong way.

The book refers to Allison having a “pet wolf” when we get her introduction in Chapter 1. It then later describes that Tom “likes being pet” when we get his introduction in Chapter 5. Which by the way, is the only image of Tom in this entire book, since his original render from the old version was cut. Now, I’ll be honest, I used to like that second detail, I thought it was cute that he doesn’t just tolerate Audrey, he actually LIKES being pet. Those are two different things, having some insights into Tom’s feelings and characterization would have been a breath of fresh air. But no, when I reread the book and saw that first detail, that made that really weird and uncomfortable actually. It would be one thing if in-universe, Tom called himself a pet, or Allison called him that with consent. Heck, if there was another character in-universe who wanted to purposely insult Allison and Tom by saying that, that would be fine too, then it’d be reiterating the narrative. But on its own? I take issue with taking Tom of all characters and calling him her pet. The Safehouse Boris never got treated that badly, hell, Buddy in the books never got dehumanized this badly when he became a Boris. But Tom, Tom gets to be the one that’s dehumanized? There is something that really rubs me the wrong way about that. Especially if he turns out to be Thomas Connor or has some connection to him. I can’t assume if he is or isn’t anymore given all the stuff BATDR pulled with Allison and Henry. But on the chance he IS Thomas Connor, do you have any idea how bad that looks, to have a character that, because of details written in Dreams Come to Life, many fans speculate to be a person of color, referring to him as Allison’s “pet”? And even if he ends up not being a person of color (I say as I groan about the inevitable discourse for the DCTL graphic novel that’s coming out), it’s still kind of awful to say that about anyone. Tom is a character that has repeatedly gotten the short end of the stick in this series. He’s relevant to BATDR for all of a couple of minutes, and he’s incredibly underutilized and lacking details or depth for most of the series. Thomas Connor, he gets a bit of depth as of The Lost Ones, that novel does great things for him. But Tom Wolf? Short end of the stick. And I’m sad to see that continue here.

The one positive thing I have to say about this section is that it’s really nice to have so many of the audiolog character transcripts here. Most of the notes and logs from BATDR are here with all their words typed out. The ones that in-game had a chiller styled font are transcribed a bit strangely, as now they’re written like the messages written on the walls in-game. But it’s not the worst. If anything, all of this gives me a great resource as a theorist. Having a record of all of these and what chapters they appear in makes my goal of constructing a timeline and cross checking information much easier.

Though from a graphic design standpoint, these pages frustrate me a little bit. They’re so cramped, and there’s several spots where the text isn’t centered properly within its text block. I get the sense on some parts, it’s because it’s placed so close to the spine of the book, so they don’t want any information getting cut off, but it still looks funky. And there are several spots where that explanation doesn’t really apply. There’s also some weird placement of fun facts. While I love that this book lets us in on some secrets, they’re not always placed in an area that makes sense? Like, there’s a note about how to get the Inkjets Concert, but the steps for how to get it are placed way after a point in the narrative where you’d be able to get it, and I’m kind of scratching my head as to why it was done that way. Is it to encourage a second playthrough? Or is it to not spoil the story? Why not split the information up? Or have a dedicated secrets page like they do with the achievements and theMeatly’s cutouts?

Though speaking of not spoiling things, this book is really odd about what it chooses to focus on. So, Henry’s model is in this book, right next to a passage about a “mysterious man” you can meet in the Cyclebreakers area. They showed his model but didn’t name him as Henry? I don’t quite get that choice. Also, despite the cyclebreakers being very important to this story, they aren’t really mentioned before this very brief section. However, Porter? The character shown for all of a few seconds? He’s got at least three images throughout this book. The balance feels off with what this book chooses to put emphasis on.

Also, this one really annoyed me: Allison. So for everyone who’s actually played BATIM, you would know that Allison Angel is never referred to as Allison within BATIM. We only know she’s called that because people dove into the game’s files and revealed her and Tom’s names upon the release of Chapter 4. And the book follows suit with this, it does not call her Allison in the original handbook whatsoever. HOWEVER, the BATDR section messes this up. When it introduces her, even though in-game she introduces herself as Alice, the book introduces her as Allison. But when we get to Chapter 5, the part where she’s actually named Allison by Audrey, it suddenly switches to calling her Nice Alice? It’s a weird choice and I don’t understand why this happened.

It leaves me wondering just how much the new author of this section and their editors know about the Bendy series before going into this project. What context were they given to write this thing? It makes the book feel unpolished to have so many mistakes in its formatting and information. I don’t know what the quality control team for this release looked like, but a part of me wonders how many editors this went through before making it to the final release. I don’t work in publishing to know what that looks like, but I’d genuinely love to learn more on this subject, it’s fascinating.

There’s also a very strong dissonance in the imagery. While I’m glad to see the renders from BATDR’s advertising so clearly and up close, the difference in their coloring looks strange when put next to the rest of Bendy’s usual color palette. It leaves me wondering what assets the book team was given for use in this release. There’s a lot I could say here about the importance of press kits and brand guidelines, especially in this day and age when so many fans are making just as high quality of content as the official releases of media. And that leads me to the most disappointing part of this book.

Part 3: Stolen Content

If you’re active in the Bendy fandom and know its many creative members, then you may already know what I’m about to dive into. MLSpence3D is an artist that enjoys 3D modeling, rigging, animating, and rendering. He can often be found engaging in all sorts of corners in the indie mascot horror community, such as playing a notable role in the production of SuperHorrorBro’s upcoming title, Glitched Out, as well as providing the renders used on the Bendy Wiki of the in-game characters. Spence has had his work mistaken for official renders before, and unfortunately, it’s not just fans making that mistake. The render of the Piper used in the BATIM portion of the original handbook is Spence’s, and it unfortunately hasn’t been removed in this update, nor has he been credited or asked for permission to have it used here. I’ll admit, his stuff looks so official that I’ve mistaken it as such too, and it speaks to a much needed conversation on assets, metadata, and protection for artists of all mediums.

Our fandom is not the only place where this happens. Back when FNAF: Help Wanted was in production, the cover art mistakenly used fan renders as a part of its photomanipulation. Developer Scott Cawthon was quick to apologize and make things right, removing the renders and replacing them with officially made FNAF models. Heck, we had something similar happen right here with Bendy back when the voice cast of BATDR started working with Streamily. The initial post that advertised their Streamily debut used renders from Spence and a few other artists that had to be tracked down, and they didn’t have the rights to use them, nor were they credited. It makes a lot of sense that this happens, when you don’t have sufficient resources and aren’t an active member of the fandom, if you’re a graphic designer trying to make a piece to advertise something, you’re going to need assets to make that. And if you’re not given sufficient assets by the people you’re designing for, you turn to other sources to get the job done. They may not know what on Google is official vs fan content. The fans are so skilled and passionate about what they do, and with the number of series that have fans steadily joining the official teams, it’s incredible what can result from being passionate. But it also makes for a much needed reminder to add metadata to your files so that they can be traced back as belonging to you. Watermark your stuff, clearly mark your work as fan content in the tags, captions, and descriptions, in an effort to protect yourself. Don’t use images you find online unless you have a very clear idea of where they came from, so you can direct people back to the source when they ask about it (or better yet, link the source in your description from the start). Give people another reason to pause and double check their work in the chain of command (they should be pausing to double check anyway, but let's be real, we don't live in a perfect world). In a world where credit and sources are more important than ever, remembering to give credit where it’s due from the start will save you all kinds of headaches in the future. Video game developers, especially those of you in the indie scene: please develop press kits to give to people your teams collaborate with. By giving them assets they can reliably use to advertise for you, you will save everyone a lot of hassle in the long run. And if this is still happening even with a press kit, it merits having some conversations to evaluate why and solve the problem. If there is no other takeaway anyone gets from this post, this is the big one I want to see some positive change on in the future.

Part 4: The Functionality as a Game Guide

This book works for your first time through BATDR, but not for any kind of sequential playthroughs. The way it directs you through the game uses the audiologs and notes as waypoints. Once you pick them up, they are removed from the environment, and so if you’re picking up the game after a long time away from it, you’re not gonna remember where those were, so it’s likely not going to be useful for navigating. It reminds me a lot of the way my parents talked about one of our old hometowns. We lived in Vermont for a little while, and there were two things about our area that we laughed about. One, never leave your car unlocked unless you want it filled with zucchini. Two, if you ask for directions, you’re not gonna have a clue unless you’re a local, because they word everything in a similar fashion to “you’re gonna drive past where the old barn used to be”. At least give me a landmark that still exists, or a map! The BATIM chapters aren’t much better, they sort of give you a layout map, but it’s not helpful. Especially in Chapter 3, the place where you arguably need a map the most, there is no kind of instruction for how to get through Alice’s fetch quests if you get lost.

In my mind, a game guide is something you turn to when you need help getting through a game. Now, mind you, I am not the target audience for a game guide. I don’t own game guides. There are a few in my household that my siblings own, for stuff like Super Mario Sunshine, and I guess technically my Pokedex for Pokemon Black and White 2 DOES double as a game guide. But like, we now live in the age of the internet. If you want to know how to get through something, there are a million articles and Let’s Plays that detail how to complete the base story, find secrets, and even suggest strategies for tackling difficult challenges. Some of these are designed to be informative, and some are more reactionary and built for entertainment, there’s lots of flavors to choose from!

And it makes me wonder, what does that mean for the medium of game guides as a whole? I think they still have their place. For one thing, different people benefit from different learning styles. Being able to read a guide may work better for someone than a video depending on their brain wiring. And for people who don’t have reliable or frankly any internet, or rely on a library for that, it’s nice to have a book so that you don’t have to wait to keep playing. I’ve never seen anyone get a game guide from a library, but I absolutely think it’s something a library could have. It’s also just really convenient to have all of that information available in one book, as opposed to having to search through multiple forums and sources and risk getting spoiled. And when they’re done well, sometimes they can have secrets not even the existing player base knew. Like I knew that there was this secret about a ghost train that appears if you set your system’s clock to 4:14, but I didn’t know if AM or PM mattered. Thanks to this book, now I know that it doesn’t matter, both work, which is really handy to know! But uh…most of the secrets that were revealed in this book were things I knew within the first month that BATDR came out. None of them were new to me as someone who’s plugged into the world of Bendy. There have been multiple videos detailing how to get these secrets, and how to play this game, by many different indie horror enthusiasts. It almost makes it feel like this book came out a bit too late, and it’s only released about a year or so after this game came out.

Which really begs the question, who was the target audience for this book? Was it for new fans who were struggling with these games? Was it for longtime fans who wanted a memento of the occasion and a record of all the stuff in these games? Was it for lore hunters hungry for new secrets and world building? Having read both versions of the employee handbook, I still can’t definitively say who the target audience is. That kind of frustrates me, that’s the first thing they taught us about back when I went to school for graphic design. It’s important to keep your audience in mind when designing something, that way it caters to their needs, appeals to them, and gets your message across effectively.

Part 5: Final Thoughts

I still can’t say for sure what I was supposed to get out of this.The parts of it that I found charming and appealing were not continued or built upon in this update. There is no new world building or lore. It doesn’t do an effective job as a game guide given its reliance on non-permanent elements of gameplay. It doesn’t give us tools to cross reference what we know from previous entries, nor does it expand upon details that lacked clarity within BATDR or BATIM. It removed some of its more charming content, and it still has stolen artwork from its previous iteration. By the time I got done reading this book, I was left feeling disappointed and kind of exhausted. No joke, I grabbed a friend, and we went through it all to compare it page by page to see what changed. It was something you could make a drinking game out of, not that I would recommend that.

I would struggle to recommend this book to any Bendy fan, unless you’re a completionist like me who wants to own every book as a physical copy. The original employee handbook was a far better read, and if you can find a copy secondhand or at your local library, you’re in for a small but tasty treat (quite literally if you decide to make the bacon soup recipe, which fun fact, originated in this book and was developed by the wife of Bookpast, one of the writers on this series!). The Dark Revival section feels tacked on and not as well thought out as the original book was. There is a very odd disconnect between the two. I’m genuinely confused as to why it was put in a rerelease of this book rather than making an entirely new book for Dark Revival. Dark Revival is a much longer and detailed game than Bendy and the Ink Machine. I would expect a book that describes how to play it and its world building to take up a lot more pages and go in depth on different details than this one did. So why was it done this way? Does this have to do with some sort of contract with Scholastic that we don’t know about? Was there a time constraint, or a page count that had to be met that they couldn’t meet with just BATDR? Did the people working on Bendy have too much on their plates to dedicate the time to a new book? What happened here? I wasn’t expecting to leave this book with more questions than answers, but here we are.

Overall, I don’t think it was worth what I paid for it, but it’s going to live on my shelf with the rest of my books. This will be handy for when I need to reference the audiologs and don’t want to look up a YouTube video to remember what was said. It’ll also be nice if I’m traveling. See, whenever I visit my grandparents, their wifi is pretty limited, so if I want to draw anything while I’m up there, I have to print out references or download images on my phone before I go so I can do that. Having some of the new renders in this book will be useful if I decide I want to draw Bendy stuff or theorize while on the road.

Now it's your turn. Tell me your thoughts on the Updated Edition of the Bendy Employee Handbook! Is this something you want to read? If you have read it, did you enjoy it? Were you left wanting more? If we ever get another book like this, what sort of things would you like to see? Let's talk about it. And remember, if you did enjoy it, that's not a bad thing, absolutely no judgement there. Just because it wasn't for me doesn't mean it's not going to be enjoyable for someone else. Every work of fiction has its audience. <3 Here's wishing you a wonderful rest of the day, and happy reading!

#bendy employee handbook spoilers #bendy employee handbook #bendy spoilers #batdr #bendy and the dark revival #batim #bendy and the ink machine #bendy books #bendy book spoilers

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shitty-blade-runner-reference · 6 months

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alice post

i think alice and kara are a foile-a-deux going on there, i think not only is kara in her weird "denial" that bumps the game down a full letter grade, where clearly they put in the alice twist at the last minute and then didnt go back and edit to make sense but alice is TERRIFIED of people realizing shes an android. i think its alice's strongest motivation besides the characteristic anxious attachment that manifests as constantly requesting kara to reiterate/reassure that she's willing to take care of alice. ("i'm cold" bro we know youre not cold you just want to make sure the adults around you care that youre uncomfortable; as a video game character you are annoying but as a person i'm analyzing youre valid and im validating you) alice has an insane amount of some kind of internalized dislike of androids. not that she hates other androids, she seems to like them, but she definitely thinks it would be better if she was a human and not an android. (alice's third strongest motivation is actually that she has a really vivid sense of ethics? this is characteristic of kids sometimes: they've been watching shows where all the morals are things like "dont steal" and "dont bully," but alice is very firm on what she considers right and wrong. she'll chastise kara for violating that, which is incredibly ballsy coming from a child that regularly gets abused when adults are angry with her) alice keeps a photo of the human girl she replaced, standing with a happy version of her dad and a mom that's around and remembers her and recognizes her. alice looks at pictures of humans and is like "haha can we please be like them please kara i would love to be a human child with a human mom and dad :')" if you try to prod alice about what you've realized, if kara puts together the clues while at rose's house, alice completely shuts down in terror because she thinks youre going to leave her for not being a real child. alice does NOT correct kara's weird delusion. alice doesn't offer to interface to immediately warn kara that todd destroyed the last kara, she communicates it with spooky little drawings even though its an actual life or death situation. alice draws herself in her little spookychild abuse crayon drawings with red blood - even inside the little locked chest that represents the secrets in this house that alice knows about. alice is over the moon when jerry treats her like a human child and puts her on a carousel. kara mentions its the only time she's ever seen alice smile. its probably because alice is having a pure moment of carousel!!! just like human child!! everyone thinks im a person so they're being nice to me!! when my dad knew i was an android he was awful! alice is an interesting character written very badly. i do think @thiriumhound is correct that shes a deviant but also she is on some kind of third axis of messed up that has nothing to do with whether shes still obeying her program

#alice williams #detroit become human #alice yk500 #yk500

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once-upon-an-animation · 10 months

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Some thoughts on Annabeth’s Character Arc

Before I begin, just want to say sorry about not being online much. I’m in a very busy period of my life and haven’t had the mental capacity to address all the responses I’ve gotten on posts and such. Will do that in the future.

That being said, I still enjoy writing, so today, I’m going to write a post sharing my thoughts on Annabeth’s character arc in the original PJO series.

For context, someone posted on Reddit that TTC was their favourite book in the original series because of Annabeth’s absence. The comment resulted in a discussion about why people didn’t like Annabeth’s character. I shared the extremely unpopular opinion that Annabeth’s character peaked in Sea of Monsters for me, and I didn’t really love what was done with her character from TTC onwards. Here’s why:

In general:

• ⁠I feel like her perspective towards Luke lacked a lot of nuance. I’m fine with her not thinking he’s completely evil, but it would have been nice to see her also consider all the harmful things Luke had done before the incident with Silena in TLO. It just felt like her POV was sweeping a lot of those things under the rug even though I know that wasn’t necessarily the intent.

• ⁠The Perachel thing would have been fine if there was an on-page apology. But the fact that there is none and it seemingly took Rachel becoming the Oracle and not being allowed to date Percy for Annabeth to finally stop hating her seems like a missed opportunity to have Annabeth address her pride and the way she acts towards others.

• ⁠On that same note, I have mixed feelings about Annabeth’s overall character arc in PJO. While I feel like her relationships with other characters in the story changed over time, I don’t always feel like she truly changed as a person. I mean, she ended up being right about Luke in the end, so it’s not like she had any major motivation to shift her perspective of the world, change her way of thinking, or work on her personality flaws. Given that her fatal flaw is hubris, I would have loved to see a character arc where her pride gets her in deep trouble and she has to confront it head-on by actively learning humility in different ways. She did that well in the first two books, which is why she peaked for me as a character in SoM, but it feels like TTC lost the rhythm and never picked it back up. I would have liked to see her acknowledge being wrong about the way she treated Rachel, and walking away from the war with a different perspective on Luke other than just “I was right all along”. It would have also been nice to see more people actually call Annabeth out on her BS. Someone other than Percy should have said something to her about her behavior. I feel like Chiron could have done it in a “loving dad who wants the best for you” kind of way. Thalia could have also done it.

Or maybe Annabeth gets a visit from Athena after BoTL, where they talk about the quest, the battle, and the stuff on Daedalus’ laptop, but Athena also expresses disappointment in Annabeth for acting petty and not recognizing Rachel as a useful addition to the quest. Maybe Athena reiterates that she doesn’t approve of Percabeth’s friendship, especially because it seems like Annabeth is letting her feelings cloud her judgement. Annabeth’s arc could have been about learning what true wisdom is. Wisdom and knowledge aren’t the same thing, and wisdom is so much more than just knowing facts and battle plans. Wisdom is about maturity, exercising well-informed judgement, and recognizing the truth about things, including yourself. Humility is a huge aspect of gaining wisdom and I think it could have been a great arc for Annabeth, given her fatal flaw. Her overall arc in HoO could have been a continuation of this, especially with what happens in BoO with Piper in that temple.

• ⁠I don’t really like the way her arc with her dad was resolved. The way the story is written in TTC, it seems to imply that Annabeth was to blame for assuming the worst of her dad/stepmom (which I know was probably not the intent, but it has that vibe). I think there was a better way to acknowledge that Annabeth’s parents do in fact care about her, but didn’t do the best job of showing it when she really needed it and made her feel like she needed to run away.

• ⁠There are tiny things that Rick adds into the way he writes Annabeth that make Annabeth seem kind of inconsiderate, like all the little moments of aggression , the fact that she keeps teasing Percy about Rachel even after everyone else has moved on, or in Crown of Ptolemy where Percy said that he “has a healthy fear of Annabeth because she’s kicked his butt plenty of times” and doesn’t feel like he’s allowed to disagree with her. I know it’s mostly supposed to be amusing, but it’s a little uncomfortable to read at times. It sucks because Annabeth is obviously supposed to be a kind person and in many ways, she is, but these moments don’t always make her look nice.

Whew. Sorry that this was long.

I chalk much of my complaints with Annabeth up to not having much of her POV in the original series. Then again, even if Rick decides to delve deeper into Annabeth’s story in the Disney series, I feel like he’s just generally not that great at writing female characters, so I don’t know how much he’ll be able to improve this. In addition, it feels like Rick has generally been losing sight of his characters and they feel less and less like themselves with every addition to his franchise. I’m genuinely nervous for Chalice of the Gods because I don’t know what he’s going to do with Annabeth’s character and I don’t know how much I trust him, lol.

#PJO #annabeth chase #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #heroes of olympus #rick riordan #pjo hoo toa #HoO #anti PJO #anti annabeth chase #anti percabeth

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autumnmobile12 · 4 months

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I’m hoping that as Nocturne continues, that there might be some eventual parallels between Alucard and Richter.

I’ve mentioned in another post I don’t really like Richter. I’m not going to reiterate the entire thing, but the long and short of it is I found his character unnecessarily mean-spirited. Some of his dialogue really rubbed me the wrong way and I didn’t find his lines all that funny. But it’s this specific line to Tera that sealed the deal with me disliking him.

“And you just happened to stumble upon it one day while you were out picking flowers?”

Um, what the fuck? She raised you, gave you a safe place to grow up, has been a surrogate mother to you, and has shown you nothing but kindness and support, and you’re going to talk to her like that? What an asshole.

And this is the difference between Richter and Trevor’s characters. Trevor is an asshole, but did he ever talk to Sypha or her grandfather this way? No. Did he talk to Alucard this way? Well…yeah, but also observe Alucard also woke up snarky and began insulting him from minute one, so we can argue they are delightfully matching each other’s energy with a vengeance.

But I’m not gonna lie…for the first two seasons, I also didn’t like Alucard’s character all that much and for the same reasons. I’m a little biased as I generally don't like protagonists who are just mean for no reason. We all know someone like that in real life, whether they’re a relative or a co-worker or a boss, so why deal with it in fiction? Okay yeah, I get that it’s often part of a character arc and symbolism for growth and finding maturity. I understand why storylines like this are necessary, but I’m still gonna hate the little shits for the duration they’re assholes.

So Alucard…the way he treats Trevor in the first two seasons is also pretty crappy behavior.

“I imagine one sacrifices a chicken, and divines the location of the book you want from the intestines. Maybe Belmont has a crystal ball in here you could ask. …. Your ancestors were apparently mentally ill hoarders. I fully expect to find family cats mummified under some of these shelves. Unless your family preferred to eat them.”

You’re gonna talk to your comrade like that…in his own home…where his entire family was brutally slaughtered by a mob....possibly right in front of him? Yeah, real charming, Alucard. And this is the tone for his character in the beginning. There is the point where Sypha calls him out and tells him to stop testing Trevor, but I think there’s another element at play. “…and he’s a drunk and he’s self-destructive and anyone trying to hold on to him may as well be dragged down with him.” He isn’t just testing him, he’s judging him and he’s already decided he’s a useless drunk who got lucky and happened to win a few fights.

All right, now that I’ve dragged him through the mud, I’m going to pull back and assess the wider perspective of Alucard’s full character arc. Alucard’s growth follows the line of the spoiled brat who experienced hardship and had to grow up because of it. I think Alucard lived a very sheltered life before his mother died, and his actions and dialogue in the Belmont Hold are the strongest indicator to this. We clearly see he’s disgusted by the trophies and the history of murder against the vampires, and he is not shy about voicing his contempt towards the family’s entire purpose. He’s right, though. With the presence of the infant skull in the display case, we do get the very subtle nod that the Belmonts, for all their claims of virtue and protecting humanity, have also committed atrocities. He does have a right to his anger against Trevor and his family.

But what’s absent from Alucard’s character here is the fact he doesn’t seem to consider the atrocities the vampires have committed against his mother’s people. To the vampires, humans are food, livestock, and a lesser species. Godbrand brutally murders several humans in his flashback with no clear intent on actually eating them, so he kills for sport. Cho torments the humans in her court by amusing herself with duels to the death that only she can win. Not a humane way to treat the vampire equivalent of livestock. And exactly how long does Erzsebet Báthory keep those girls chained up while she drains them of blood?

Why does Alucard condone what the vampires do to humans and at the same time condemns the Belmonts for hunting the vampires?

The answer: I don’t think he did because I don’t think he was fully aware of these scenarios. Think about it, he had no knowledge of Dracula’s Generals and the only thing he talked about regarding his father was the tragedy of his madness and how killing him would be destroying centuries of knowledge. I think Dracula wanted him to have a peaceful life and fed him the more rosy-colored version of their history. Maybe he intended to tell him one day, and that day kept being put off by the sentiment, “He’s a boy. Let him continue to be a boy.”

Alucard lives his peaceful childhood until it comes to a screeching halt when Lisa is killed, so I honestly think there is an innocence behind his upbringing that gave him a very clear bias against the Belmonts that was completely justified in some elements and not so much in others. There’s also the point that he keeps referencing Trevor as a drunk, which is very much condescension. It’s not until Season 3, after he’s experienced his traumas and has fallen into his own slump of grief that his attitude towards Trevor changes. There’s still ribbing between the pair, but it’s not the same cutting remarks that we saw back in Season 2. Alucard walked a mile in Trevor’s shoes, and that mile was bitter.

...

So where I stand with Nocturne: Richter has started off in a way similar to Alucard. He lost his mother at a young age, but aside from that, he grew up safe and loved in a stable home, has a good relationship with Tera and Maria, and has otherwise led a relatively peaceful life. Even in the midst of the French Revolution, they don't seem like suffering peasants. Like Alucard before his world truly went to hell, Richter also didn’t have a full concept of what real hardship looks like. This is apparent when he’s all confidence and bravado, going around and yelling he’s the ‘last of the Belmonts’ and he ‘kills vampires’ and “Who’s next?” And then Olrox shows up and he cows him right back into the scared, little boy he’s pretending he’s not.

And so not only is there a parallel between Richter and Alucard, but there is also a big one between Trevor and Annette. Both of them have suffered through their own individual hardships, both losing their loved ones in some of the most brutal ways imaginable, but those same hardships gave them their pride and their poignant maturity and cynicism in how they see the world. Granted, the difference between Trevor and Annette is she never lost her purpose or her will to fight despite having been dealt the worse lot of having been born a slave, but still…Trevor never ran away from his nightmares like Richter did. Even though Annette and Trevor have their moments when they are scared, both of them stood up and said, “Fuck it, I have a bastard to kill and if I die killing them, so be it.” They don’t give an absolute damn. They took their pain and they wore it like armor.

“Killing you was the point. Living was a luxury.”

“If I let my past terrify me, I’d never be free of it.”

…

Compared to them, Richter is a spoiled brat who has yet to grow up.

And I think Alucard’s going to be right there with him saying, “Don’t worry. I was like you once and we’ll get there together.”

#castlevania #richter belmont #alucard tepes #trevor belmont #annette #castlevania netflix #castlevania nocturne #parallels #character analysis #character development

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autisticlancemcclain · 3 months

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okay so you just put this in your most recent post so now i’m really curious, what are your thoughts on kuron? what specifically makes you say he’s a good iteration of shiro? /gen

oooou okay thank you for asking. i covered this a little bit in this essay here, but i'll sum up the most important bit from that essay (in relation to this topic):

"Lastly — and this turned out to be less relevant to the essay than I expected, but I do want to go over it a tad — is Shiro’s tie to humanity. I mentioned two important points: Shiro’s connection to mortality makes him the most intimate with his humanity out of all the characters, and he is undoubtedly the flattest character of them all. That is, if you don’t consider his clone to be part of his character.

But I’m begging you to reconsider. Reconsider, perhaps, who the clone is — Haggar had pure access to Shiro for a year, you remember. His thoughts, his dreams, his mannerisms, his priorities, his body. Even him at his most human, his most deranged, his most scared. She had Shiro then. She had Shiro when he had nothing to look forward to. She had Shiro when he hurt his crew to make sure they would live, at direct cost to himself.

She stripped him of his humanity — his connection to his own mortality. She took his illness from him. And who, then, did she return to the team? Who was clone? Shiro, mostly. The clone was happy to play with the team. The clone was clever. The clone believed, fully, that he was Shiro, only he was angrier and meaner, a little, and less capable of shoving down his own pain. Shiro, stripped of his tie to humanity and mortality, stripped of his compulsive need to be strained and stressed and the one everyone else can rely on, the Role rather than the Person, is emotional. He has flaws and outbursts. He can’t manage his own pain. He is is cruelest to the one person on the team — Lance — who canonically reminds him closest of himself.

Shiro, in the purest form that Haggar can make him, is flawed and self-hating. That is where our love for him comes. Not the man who pushes himself down at the same time as he sacrifices his personality to be someone for others, but the man who is struggling and can’t keep it locked down. That’s where it comes from."

so! what does this mean.

shiro, as a character, does not get to choose and form his own identity. first he is the Garrison Poster Boy -- and while he is a pilot, an explorer, and happy to do both of those things, he is uncomfortable with (largely lance's) hero worship. he both a) doesn't believe he deserves it, and b) is not happy in that role. we see it in the "blam blam blam" scene -- he is trapped in the 'hero' role because he is trapped in a role of Perfection, and he is not perfect, and it grates on him. second he is the Champion -- and while he did force himself to be the Champion by injuring the Holts, it is a sacrifice. being a sacrifice is not the same as choosing a role. third, he is the Paladin of the Black Lion (not the Black Paladin, for deeper analysis on my thoughts there please read this essay and maybe this one too honestly) -- he tries to escape that role from the very beginning. i know i keep pushing yall towards the essay but i genuinely do discuss shiro's role in it, but i'll reiterate:

"...from the very beginning, he set up a replacement for himself.

Doesn’t that strike anyone else as odd? I haven’t seen the show in five years, and I don’t plan on rewatching, but I do remember that every moment with Shiro almost had this underlying tension. The closest thing I have to canon off the top of my head is the Handbook (which I had to stop reading because they did everyone SO dirty there, even though some of it was honestly pretty funny), which was released in S2, and even that incredibly early canon talked about Keith replacing Shiro!

From the very beginning, Shiro was planning an out to his role. He knew it was not meant for him. He did the role well, but it was not his to do."

shiro does not want that fucking role. every single second we see him on screen, as Shiro Original, he is shouldering a burden. he is being someone he does not want to be. not to give voltron any credit, but don't you think it's interesting that he, as a character, comes out to the audience as queer when he is...free from those roles? when he is no longer the Garrison Poster Boy (i.e. lance stops the hero worship), no longer the Champion (haggar is defeated), no longer the Paladin of the Black Lion (keith is now the Black Paladin)...we see him come out. we see him, as it is often called, "be true to himself". to me, this signals that he is finally free from playing someone he is not, and interestingly, this came after kuron -- after he maybe got to be something he truly was.

aside from the more abstract analysis, shiro is deeply, deeply traumatized! it is inane to expect him to be the same person he was. why on earth would he have the same patience during/post war as pre-war? he knows now that hesitance gets people killed. if he had hesitated to hurt matt, matt would have died. if he hesitates out on the field, people die. patience yields focus, sure, but he hasn't had time for patience in god knows how long. any patience he has is, if it has not already torn, wearing thin. lance's lightheardness, although important, is bound to make him snap, especially because shiro used to be the lighthearted one -- if he was still the lighthearted one, people would die. on his conscious. his snappiness at lance, while inappropriate and damaging, makes total sense. it comes from a place of a) deep self-hatred/mistrust and b) trauma.

to quote myself again -- "shiro, in the purest form haggar can make him, is flawed and self-hating". take away shiro's roles, take away his masks, take away any of his responsibilities that have shaped his life for him -- who is he? would he be angry (like kuron)? would he be hurting (like kuron)? would he be vulnerable (like kuron)? would he, for the first time, reach out and ask for help (like kuron)?

i think he would.

#in my essay era again #anyways shiro i love you #vld #voltron #shiro #takashi shirogane #kuron #clone shiro #my writing #longpost

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possumbylight · 1 year

Text

Letters From the Future

A/N: hello hello this is also cross-posted on ao3 so you can check it out there too if you wanna! i don’t know if there’s any demand for bertolt content but if there is i am here to provide. hope you enjoy ;)

Summary: A pile of letters, tied in red ribbon and addressed to her from a man now dead.

Warnings: Angst. Fluff and Angst, meaning fluff on the way but angst on the end. I’ve never written angst so I don’t know if i’m any good at it but it made me sad writing it so maybe that means something

This bad boy is over 12k words. Please set aside the appropriate chunk of time if you would like to read it all in one sitting.

Pairings: Bertolt Hoover/Reader

“Y/n?”

There was no response when Jean knocked on the door. She had been in her room for the last day now, only appearing in brief intervals to accept meager portions of food or take a trip to the communal bathrooms. Everyone who saw her gave her at least ten feet of clearance, as though she were going to combust, as though she were going to sink her teeth into her own hand and transform before their eyes.

“Y/n, I know you’re in there. I have something for you.”

“No, thank you.”

“Too bad. If you don’t open the door, I’m bringing Mikasa to break it down.”

He had wanted to threaten that he would break down the door himself, but Mikasa carried a certain weight around the barracks that he simply could not attain.

Jean balanced the weight of the letters in his hand. There had to be at least two dozen in the pile, likely more, and some of them were several pages long. When he had pulled them out of the wall, they had been wrapped neatly with a red ribbon and kept in a simple leather pouch that tied shut with a drawstring. Bertolt’s other effects were in various states of disrepair, showing signs of water damage, wrinkling, or general wear and tear”

The letters were pristine.

He had taken one look at the letter on top of the pile before averting his gaze. The words were not meant for him. Every single letter was addressed to the same person, who was now in the middle of reluctantly shuffling towards the door before Jean could call in reinforcements to smoke her out.

“What do you want?”

“Don’t be rude. I brought you something,” he reiterated, shoving the pile of letters in her direction before she could refuse them. “Mail for you.”

“My family is dead. No one sends me mail.”

“You’ll want to read these.”

She scrunched her brow but finally accepted the letters and slammed the door in Jean’s face, purposefully ignoring the indignant, “you’re welcome,” that he shouted through the door. She carefully pulled open the red ribbon and let the pile fall out all over her desk. As she scanned the words, it became incredibly obvious why the letters had been given to her and not kept for evidence.

Dear y/n,

I doubt you will ever see this letter. It’s hard to remember how many years of my life I have left, but if I do succeed in returning to my hometown, it won’t be long before I will have to pass on my power to the next generation of warriors.

I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, but I don’t think you would want to. I’m sure you probably hate me now, and I don’t blame you for that. I can’t even bring myself to say that I regret what I did, but I know that I am not proud of myself.

I remember looking down and seeing you during the breach of Trost, and then again before Reiner and I deserted. I remember the terror in your eyes. I remember the way you ran away from me, instead of running towards me, like you always did when I would see you out on the training grounds. I hate myself for making you feel afraid. I never wanted that.

If you do someday see this letter and you don’t immediately burn it, I would like to clear up a few things.

I don’t think you’re a filthy devil. I don’t think any of you are, but especially not you. I don’t know how anyone could look at you and find a single thing wrong. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met. I wish I had known you before Zhiganshina fell. I can’t promise that it would have changed things, though.

I was raised to do exactly what I did. I was given a mission, and I did it to the best of my ability. I was only a child, then. I was a child when I inherited this power at all. I won’t try to justify myself to you. I don’t deserve forgiveness for what I’ve done, but know that there are reasons why I did it.

I love you. That is the most important truth I want to convey to you. If you ever loved me, I’m sure that it has run out. A happy ending was never possible for me, but it can be for you, if you keep surviving as you have for so long. The fight ahead will not be easy, but I hope you come out alive on the other end. I hope you can find peace and happiness. I love you, and I want you to be happy, even if I am not there to see it.

Please, please survive.

All my love,

Bertolt

“Hoover! You’ll take your head off if you keep swinging that close. Your height can be an advantage on the ground, but when you’re in the air, you have to watch it,” Shadis screamed. The man’s lung capacity was perpetually astounding. It was a miracle that he awoke every day with his vocal cords still intact, after having shrieked his head off at the cadets the day before.

Bertolt took the advice in stride, however, keeping his head ducked as he lifted off from the ground below a tree branch. When he made it to the treetop, Reiner was already there, surveying the territory from above.

“If we take out the small titans in the clearing, we likely won’t have any competition,” Reiner began strategizing aloud, “but if we take out the larger ones by the creek, we’ll rack up more points.”

“I’ll follow your lead.”

“Alright. Let’s take the creek, but—wait, where are the other two?”

Just as Reiner turned to look for the other two members of their team, a hook thwapped into the trunk just below his feet, sending y/n hurtling upwards towards him until she landed, butt-first, on the branch beside him.

“Sorry,” she apologized, out of breath and clearly a bit embarrassed about flopping onto the tree like a large fish out of water. “Connie ran into a tree.”

Connie, who landed harshly beside her after a few moments, indignantly retorted, “You ran into a tree too, y/n, don’t blame me.”

“If you hadn’t gotten your lines tangled in a bush, neither of us would have run into a tree.”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it was,” Reiner interjected, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “We’re going to clear out the large titans by the creek and then move into the inner forest. Understood?”

“Yes sir!” y/n and Connie both saluted with questionable levels of reverence.

It was a group training exercise, which Bertolt appreciated and dreaded in measure. He was glad to have Reiner on his team, but that necessitated the presence of two other team members whom he did not know very well. Y/n and Connie seemed nice enough, but his nerves did not yield to nice.

Annie’s team was already perusing the area around the creek, having taken out three large titan standees, the feathers and dirt from their nape-bags busted all across the ground. Bertolt would have been content to have avoided all competition and settled for the middling points they could have acquired in the empty clearing, but Reiner was determined to take first place.

Y/n and Connie seemed content with not smashing into anymore trees.

“Reiner, how do you do that move where you pick your legs up mid-air and turn?” Connie called above the sound of pulleys and wires and extending blades.

“It’s about core strength, Springer. You’ll have to actually participate in conditioning if you want to learn how to do it properly.”

“What? I’m a master of conditioning. You could teach me right now, and I could—”

“Connie, you did seven push-ups this morning and were convinced you were bleeding internally,” y/n corrected as she zipped past the conversation. Once she was in the air, she found, she was quite fast. It was taking off and landing where she had to watch out.

“I—shut up.”

By the time they arrived at the creek, there were four standees left, which they divvied up between them and took down with relative ease. It wouldn’t be long before graduation, and y/n was happy to be on a team with three top-ten-hopefuls, even if she was only number 14 herself. She had planned to go into the Scouts, anyway, but the idea of having the option of living in the Interior was enticing.

She arced around the standee, spinning once to rip open the bag at its nape before picking out a decent landing spot on the ground, one where she was sure to avoid casualties even if her feet failed her again. Unfortunately, just as she began her uneasy descent, a figure flashed into her periphery—tall, dark, and wielding two razor-sharp blades.

“Bertolt! Watch out!”

She was too late in warning him. Before he could even turn his head to witness her grand descent, she was already flying towards him, landing on top of him in a massive heap of limbs and wires. She could be grateful, at least, that her own blades were already sheathed, and that he had loosed his grip on his, sending them tumbling away before either of them could experience impalement for the first and final time.

“Oh, shit,” she groaned as she shifted herself off of Bertolt’s flattened back. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Bertolt. My landing really needs work.”

“It’s alright, it’s okay,” he assured her, somewhat unconvincingly. The impact had squished him flat on the ground, and his long arms were crumpled uncomfortably beneath him. Not to mention the knot on his head that had immediately surfaced after he had landed face-first on the ground and smacked his forehead against a rock.

“Oh, my god,” she breathed. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine, really,” he muttered as he reached up a wary hand to skim over the goose egg now bulging like an alien was trying to break out of his skull. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, but it was a stupid accident. I should know better by now. I have to get better at landings.”

“Bertolt, are you alright?” Reiner stepped into the situation with a furrowed brow.

“I’m fine, Reiner. Just a little run-in.”

Even though Bertolt was adamant in assuring y/n that he was okay, she eyed him warily for the rest of the day, watching the knot swell to a disgusting size as big black and blue splotches gathered around it. He was checked for a concussion, but his brain seemed to be in proper working order, so he kept a cold pack pressed against his forehead in hopes that the lump would shrink down by the next morning.

“Heard you and Bertolt had a fun afternoon,” Jean remarked, so smug that it boiled y/n’s nerves. “That’s a real nice bump on his forehead. Did you land like a dying duck again?”

“Shut up, dumbass,” y/n argued. “I feel terrible about it. He kept saying he was alright, but that thing can’t be comfortable. It’s embarrassing.”

“How the hell are you number 14?” Jean doubled down as he took the seat right beside her. “Your academic score must be almost as high as Armin’s for you to be so high in the rankings.”

“My hand-to-hand combat score is in the top four, so if you would like to keep talking, I would suggest doing it at a distance, Kirstein.”

“Leave her alone, Jean,” Eren agreed quite loudly, obviously trying to weasel his way into the conversation so he would have a reason to battle with Jean again. Y/n appreciated the back-up, but the constant bickering between the two was getting on her nerves.

She excused herself from the table and walked outside into the evening air. The sound of hammering footsteps in the distance signaled that Sasha was making the rounds again, and the sound of haughty flirtation meant that Ymir was in the middle of another wooing session with Krista. Two more figures stood shadowed at around the corner, sheltered between the sloping roof of the mess hall and the high walls of the barracks.

Y/n knew immediately from the sheer heigh of the figure on the left who it was.

“Y/n,” Reiner called to her, flagging on hand in her direction to pull her into the conversation. “You saw Bertolt’s performance this afternoon. What did you think?”

“Oh, I—”

“Y/n, you don’t have to answer that,” Bertolt interjected hurriedly. As he turned to face her, she could only focus on the swelling knot on his forehead. “I’m sorry, Reiner just—”

“Bertolt is saying that he doesn’t think his performance is enough to secure his position in the top ten. What do you think?” Reiner entirely waved off Bertolt’s protest and y/n’s obvious distraction, crossing one arm over his chest and bringing the other hand to rest on his chin as though deep in thought.

“Um… Bertolt is really talented, I think. He seems to be a really well-rounded soldier. I think he’s more than worthy of being in the top ten.”

“You see? I told you, I—” Reiner began with a heavy clap to Bertolt’s shoulder, but before he could further embarrass his companion, someone called his name from afar. “I’ll be right back. You two keep talking.”

“Reiner!” Bertolt called in a sort of whispered shout before turning to y/n, praying that the shadow of the alleyway would mask the red of his face. “I’m sorry that he pulled you into this. Thank you for your kind words, y/n.”

“You’re welcome. I meant them, too. I wasn’t just saying it because Reiner was around. You’re really talented, Bertolt. I, on the other hand, could use some work.”

“What? You’re close to the top ten yourself. You’re doing a great job.”

“Bertolt, I landed on top of you today. I smashed you flat like a pancake. Have you looked in a mirror recently? There’s a knot on your head the size of a small titan.”

“Oh, I—well, that’s nothing. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, but it’s an accident that’s happened too many times before. I can’t land for shit. Last week, I nearly took out Eren when I tried to land beside him. I can’t imagine what would have happened to me if Mikasa had seen.”

Bertolt didn’t respond immediately. He could practically hear the proud thump of his heart in the uncomfortable silence that followed, but the proper words would not come to him. He didn’t know y/n very well, but she was friends with nearly everyone else in the 104th. She was helpful when she could be, and she watched her teammates backs when she had the chance. He wouldn’t mind getting to know her.

But he couldn’t. He wasn’t there to make friends. Bertolt remembered clearly the mission for which he had been selected, whether or not Reiner always did. Then again, with Reiner dipping in and out of conscious understanding of their situation, it would be nice to have someone else to talk to.

“Well, I should get back to the mess hall,” y/n began awkwardly, just at the same time as Bertolt asked, “Would you like me to help you?”

“Help me?” she clarified. “You mean with my landings? You don’t have to do that, I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“It wouldn’t be a waste of my time. We could go out into the forest tomorrow, and I could show you a few tricks.”

“I would really appreciate that, Bertolt, thank you.”

Dear y/n,

I have thought about my family a lot in the past few years. I haven’t seen them since I left my hometown to complete the mission to destroy the walls. They don’t even know that I’m still alive. I suppose that I don’t know that, either. They could have all died in a house fire, and I would never know.

I told you the truth about them. Everything I said to you about my family was true, except for the place I grew up in. I did stay in the mountains inside Maria for some time, but that is not where my family is.

I was born in a place called Liberio. I wish I could show you sometime, but I fear what they might do to you if they found out you were from Paradis. I would never want to put you in a dangerous situation like that, but there are so many beautiful things about my hometown that I wish I could share with you.

There’s a market at the center of town where farmers and artisans gather to sell their products. Along the boardwalk are little shops that sell all kinds of things, from food to jewelry to books. You would love to see it all. I can see the light in your eyes, the excitement in your voice. It would be so lovely to spend a day with you there.

Sometimes, I dream of bringing you to dinner with my family so they can meet you, so they can see how wonderful you are. You changed my perspective on everything. I’m sure you could change theirs, too.

I doubt we will ever make it to Liberio together. I doubt that I will make it there myself before I die, but if you do get the chance to visit, please say hello to my family for me. Maybe they can take take you to see the ocean, if I never get the chance to.

All my love,

Bertolt

“Congratulations, Hoover,” Jean said with a thump on his back, jolting him forward with the unexpected force of it. Bertolt felt that he was constantly getting thumped on the back, or clapped on the shoulder, and he wasn’t sure how to stop it. It was all very friendly—he appreciated the camaraderie of it all—but he did not like the suddenness of it.

“Thank you, Jean. Congratulations to you, as well.”

“You beat me this time, but you’d better watch out. I’ll surpass you one of these days.”

“Yeah, okay,” Bertolt laughed uncomfortably. He was unaware of any soldier-ranking system outside of cadet training, and he doubted that Jean could realistically surpass years of his rigorous warrior training, but he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“I suppose it won’t matter too much, once I’m safe in the Interior. Where do you plan on going?”

“Oh, I guess I—”

“Bertolt! Think fast!”

Bertolt whipped his whole body around and just barely managed to catch y/n as she hurtled through the air towards him, her arms wrapping around his neck and her legs around his torso. For all his hatred of sudden movements and touches, he had become quite accustomed to this odd ritual.

It had started as a joke, when he had first ventured deep into the woods with her for extra training. He had intended to teach her all his tips and tricks for landing with ODM gear, and though this task had been accomplished somewhere along the way, they had ended up exchanging advice for different types of training, opinions about other cadets, and even stories about their families and hometowns.

‘I wish I could teach you something in exchange,’ y/n had told him one afternoon, pouting as she kicked as a pile of split-open training bags. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing you need to work on?’

‘You don’t need to repay me. I’m happy to help. My reaction times could always be quicker, but—’

‘Maybe if your reaction time had been quicker, I wouldn’t have flattened you like a pancake,’ she had said with a laugh. The bump on his head was nearly gone at that point, but he remembered the smack of his skull against that rock and wished that he had seen her inbound before the collision. ‘Is there something I can do to help with that?’

He hadn’t been able to think of anything in the moment, but by the end of their training session that day, she had obviously come up with something on her own.

The first time she had run at him full-force, yelling, ‘Bertolt, think fast,’ he had not, in fact, thought very fast, nor had he caught her before she latched onto his back and sent them both tumbling onto the ground. This time, there was no rock for him to smack into, much to the relief of the both of them.

“I caught you,” he mumbled into her shoulder. Usually, she clambered off of him immediately after the reflex test was over, but this time, she was obviously quite excited to hang onto him.

“Good job, Bertolt. You caught me. And, you made number 3 of the top ten.”

“It’s thanks to you, probably.”

She scoffed as she finally set her feet back onto the ground, saying, “Don’t lie. I just attacked you a few dozen times. You were the one who got me from number 14 to number 12. That’s a pretty impressive leap.”

“It’s because you worked hard, y/n. Accepting help doesn’t mean that I did all the work for you. You had to really put in the time and effort. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you, too, Bertolt,” she returned, extending her hand for a high-five. “Do you think you’ll choose Military Police? I know that before, you said you weren’t really sure where you would go, but the appeal of getting in the top ten is that you can go live in the Interior. You have to promise you’ll send me a souvenir, though. Like some of those expensive cakes that they eat in Mitras. I don’t even know if you can send those by mail, but you’d better try.”

“I don’t know if I’ll go to the Interior, honestly. Reiner’s been talking about the Scouts, so maybe I’ll go with him.”

“But where do you want to go? If you want to go to the Scouts, you should go, but if you want to go to the Military Police, you should do that instead. You don’t have to do what Reiner wants to do.”

He did have to do what Reiner wanted to do, not only because he and Reiner were working towards the same goal, but because Reiner had not been entirely stable as of late. The far-off look in his eyes that appeared from time to time was concerning. The amount of times Bertolt had brought up their hometown, only for Reiner to assume that he was talking about Wall Maria, frightened him considerably. He not only needed to stick with Reiner for logistical reasons, but for personal ones. If Reiner was unwell, Bertolt needed to keep an eye on him.

“I’ll consider it,” was all he replied, and y/n seemed content with the answer, though he doubted she would drop it entirely. “What about you?”

“I think I’m going to join the Scouts.”

“I was hoping you had changed your mind about that,” he murmured aloud, more to himself than to her. “If this is because of Eren making all those speeches, then you should reconsider.”

“No, it’s not just because of Eren and his speeches. I don’t think I’d do well in the Garrison. I don’t like to just… sit around. Not that there aren’t engineers in the Garrison who do perfectly good work, but, you know.”

“Yeah, I guess I can understand that.”

He did understand. She had that type of personality, that natural curiosity that drew her to explore the outside world. It didn’t mean that he was happy about it, or that he didn’t wish she would accept a boring but ultimately safe life in the Garrison. Aside from the massive death toll characteristic of each mission outside the walls, Bertolt was unsure when he and his fellow warriors would be launching a new attack, and he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t have to fight his friends in the Scouts directly.

This was why he hadn’t necessarily wanted to make friends, but with y/n, it had been natural. She hadn’t been warded off by his shy temperament, nor had she been intimidated by Reiner’s constant presence in his life. She had directed her curiosity towards him, and he had found that he did not mind the attention, when it was from her.

“You’ll be safe though, right?” he asked her, and her face lit up.

“Of course I will. I have to be alive to respond to all the letters you send me, right?”

“Right, good.”

Dear y/n,

Do you remember the battle for Trost? I’m sure you do. It would be hard to forget something like that. I was so nervous that day, and yet, I was so sure that I was doing the right thing for the people of my homeland. When I looked down and saw you running away, tears in your eyes, I hated myself for it.

I did what I could to keep from hurting you. As soon as the wall was breached, I looked for you. When I found you, and you were unhurt, I was so glad. I was so happy to know that I hadn’t hurt you. When I’m all the way up there, I can see everything, except for the small things, except for the things that are really important.

I don’t want to manipulate you into thinking that I’m not a bad person. I am. Or, maybe I’m not. I’m not even sure of it myself. This world is so cruel, and I have had to be cruel to survive it, but does that justify the lengths to which I have gone to survive? Does that justify the cruelty I have enacted upon others? I don’t know.

I wish I could talk to you about this in person. You were always so comforting. You were always so kind. When I was with you, I felt like the world was alright. I felt like whatever I had done did not matter as much as what I was going to do in the future. You have such a beautiful perspective on life. You have such a lovely soul.

If we meet again, I want to thank you for changing me. You may not recognize that I have changed for the better. I’m sure that from the outside, it looks as though I am a villain. Perhaps I am, but I do not have that hatred in my heart.

If you are reading this letter, I hope that you do not hate me. I would not blame you if you do, but if I am allowed to be selfish, I would want you to love me.

All my love,

Bertolt

She knew she was going to die. There was no way she would survive this, for a second time. The first time she had seen the Colossal Titan, rising tall even above the 50-meter walls outside of her hometown, she had barely made it to the boat before the bridge had risen, before the Armored ran through the breach and breathed a stream of smoke and steam so hot she could see it bristling over the surface of the water.

Y/n tried to look for her family—her brother was dead, she knew that as soon as she saw the roof of his bakery smashed underneath a massive, pot-bellied titan with yellowing teeth, dripping fresh blood and bits of organs from its jaws. Her mother and father were nowhere to be seen, but the Garrison soldier who dragged her to her feet gave her no time to look back before she was thrust onto the boat along with the last wave of passengers.

Now, staring up at the Colossal once again, she felt that same fear rush through her body like a crashing wave. She was older now. She was stronger now, and she should have steeled herself to face the oncoming threat, but as it shifted its huge bloodshot eyes to look in her direction, she felt like a frightened child again.

“No, no, no,” she said over and over like a mantra, like a prayer that this was all a terrible dream. “Please, not again.”

She did not stick around long enough to watch as it lifted its massive, sinewy leg and took down the gate just as easily as it had five years before. Y/n took off towards the district supply building, awaiting new orders, but she took one last look at the monster, at the expression on his face.

If such a disgusting mass of muscle and bone could express anything, she swore she saw some discomfort in its clenched jaw. There was an uneasiness behind its eyes. All titans somewhat resembled humans, despite obvious physical distortions and the lack of certain organs, but part of their terror was their sheer similarity. It was the emptiness behind a titan’s eyes that marked them as other, that separated them from the humans that fled from them.

The Colossal Titan did not have that emptiness. It was smarter than the rest, she was sure, but she dared not think that it could feel.

Y/n turned on heel and took off, searching for her friends amidst the chaos.

“Annie, have you seen Bertolt?”

“I don’t know,” Annie responded, without so much as turning to look at y/n as she spoke.

“I can’t find him, I—I hope he’s okay.”

“Bertolt is strong,” Armin assured her, though the look in his eyes suggested that he didn’t quite believe himself. “I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

“I hope so.”

It was hours later when she finally found him, descending from a rooftop after felling a 10-meter. When she spotted him, she ran, not even giving him the courtesy of a think fast as she tackled him to the ground.

“Y/n, oh my god,” he huffed as they hit the ground. “You’re safe, you’re okay. God, I’m so happy to see you.”

“I didn’t know where you were, Bertolt, I was so worried.”

“I’m alright. But how is it that I always end up on the ground when you show up?”

She giggled as she moved off of him, saying, “Sorry. I just got excited to see you. I just… I’m just really happy that you’re safe. I was afraid I would never see you again.” She went to stand up, but his hands pulled her back down to the ground to sit beside him, if even for just a brief moment of peace before another titan clouded the sun above them.

“I’m sorry I worried you. I was worried about you, too. I’m glad you’re safe. I want you to always be safe.”

His admission was far too tender for the circumstance. She felt it warm her, lifting her expression into a genuine smile, but neither of them had time to assess the feeling. There were far more pressing issues to deal with.

“Let’s stick together, Bertolt. Okay?”

“Of course.”

Dear y/n,

I am so sorry.

I grieve every day for the life I could have had if I had not been born in Liberio, if I had not set out to become a warrior, if I had never received this curse. I grieve every day for the life we could have lived together. I am sorry that I can never give to you all that I want to.

Most days, I try to think of you in sunlight. I try to imagine you alive, with your head held high. I imagine you happy, surrounded by friends, never wanting for anything. I imagine you without me, because a future where we are together can ever come to pass. I know that I have to let you go, so I think of you living a fulfilling life where I am not present.

I can’t help that I dream of you, too. I can’t help that after I fall asleep, I see a future where we can be happy together. I dream of you on quiet rainy days, lying in my arms and reading a book. I dream of you visiting my hometown and meeting my father. I dream of him telling me how proud he is that I found someone so perfect to love.

I grieve every day for the happiness we could have had together, but I hope that you can still find that happiness without me. I know that you will. I know that you are strong.

All my love,

Bertolt

When she found him, he was trying his best not to be found. He had crouched to sit on a small box in the storage room, his height reduced by more than half as his knees rose to meet his chin. It was almost comical, had he not been in obvious distress. His face was pressed into his palms, his elbows digging uncomfortably into his knees.

“Oh, sorry, Bertolt,” she muttered absentmindedly, focused intently on locating the shipment of gas canisters she had been assigned to find. When he didn’t respond, she peered at him from behind a storage shelf. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” he answered quickly, pulling himself together and sitting upright, though it was hardly convincing. “I just needed a moment.”

“I hope I’m not intruding on your moment. I just need to find a box, and then I’ll be out of your hair. Unless you want to talk about it, in which case, I’m happy to stay and talk.”

“I don’t want to force my problems onto you.”

Bertolt was sincere in his statement, but there was an underlying deception that only served to further sadden him. He did want someone to talk to, but y/n could not know the full truth. He could only share so much.

“You’re not forcing them. I’m the one who offered to listen. Do you want to talk about it?”

He did not speak, but bit the inside of his cheek and nodded as she came to sit down beside him, pulling up a box that was a bit bigger than his.

“There,” she spoke as she settled uncomfortably onto the crate. “Now I’m the same height as you. We’re on the same level. That means we can talk about anything you’d like to talk about, and I won’t judge you for any of it. If it’s someone else who’s made you upset, though, I can’t promise I won’t kick their ass.”

“Thank you, but there’s no need to beat anyone up over it. I’m just worried about the future, I guess.”

“Anything in specific, or just the future in general?”

“When I joined the military, I didn’t think I would make any friends other than Reiner and Annie. Now that I know everyone, it’s hard to go into battle and think that anyone might die at any time. After Trost, I realized that I wouldn’t know what to do if you got hurt, or if you didn’t come back.”

“Hmm, I see. I understand what you mean. It’s hard to watch your friends go out and risk their lives for this. The world is cruel, but we’ve all made the same decision to do something about it. It helps to know that everyone knew what they were signing up for. It’s not like we were tricked into joining the Scouts. If I die out there, I will have died in pursuit of something I believe in.”

He couldn’t look at her as she spoke. Her confidence was enviable, but it was more than confidence. Connie and Jean were confident, but they were brash and loud. Eren was confident, but he was reckless. Y/n was sure of herself, and it showed in the even tone of her voice. It showed in the way she so casually spoke of her own fate, and in the way she looked at him unabashedly when he couldn’t even bring himself to make eye contact.

“I’m worried about Reiner,” he admitted, rushing the words out as though if he spoke fast enough, she might not hear it. She was a good listener, though, and as comforted as he felt when she accepted his fears with no judgement, he felt equally as vulnerable when he spoke about himself.

“Reiner is strong. He scored above you at graduation, remember? I’m sure Reiner can take care of himself. I know that you’re good friends, and it’s good to feel protective of the people you love, but if you truly trust him, you can trust that he will defend himself when the time comes.”

“I’m not worried about that. He’s… different. I don’t think he’s feeling well.”

“Oh. I see. Do you think he’s sick?”

Bertolt shook his head, becoming increasingly more desperate as he gained momentum.

“There’s something wrong with him, I think. Sometimes, he acts as though he’s a different person. He forgets things about our hometown, and about why we’re here.”

“Do you think it’s just his personality that’s changed, or do you think it’s some kind of mental illness?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him act like this before. I don’t even think anyone else notices it, because no one else has known him as long as I have. I try not to call him out on it, because I don’t want to startle him or embarrass him, but I’m afraid that he’ll forget who he is. I know I have to help him somehow, but I don’t know how. If I can’t help him, what will happen to him?”

Y/n’s brow furrowed as she hummed in thought, resting her chin in her hand and idly looking across the shelves, as though the answer to all of their problems could be found amongst the rations. Bertolt was innately nervous—he called himself a coward, but she could hardly agree to that—so it wasn’t uncommon for him to express his anxieties to her. Usually, a bit of honest reassurance and a few jokes would lighten his mood, and he would be back on track.

The look on his face was concerning. His lips downturned, his eyes watery and wavering, his arms clutching over his stomach—he looked as though he was going to be physically ill. She wasn’t sure if he wanted someone to listen, someone to advise, or someone to take action.

“Bertolt, I have to be honest with you,” she eventually settled, extending an open palm towards him as though coaxing a frightened animal. “I don’t know what to do in a situation like this. I don’t know Reiner like you do, but I know that you are someone he trusts implicitly. If you think it would help to talk through it with him, you should at least try.”

“Hmm,” Bertolt grunted. He wished to say something more astute, but the words would not come to him.

“But something else that you should consider, is that you are not fully responsible for Reiner.”

“But I—”

“You’re his friend. You’re a fellow soldier. If you want to help him, that is very admirable. I’m sure he’s grateful to have a friend as caring as you. But ultimately, if this is some kind of mental or medical issue, you’re not a doctor. You can help him and encourage him, but you can’t cure him. Do all that you are able, but don’t feel bad about what you can’t do. I’m sure Reiner would understand.”

“There has to be something I can do,” Bertolt uttered weakly. His voice broke as he spoke, and he felt pathetic.

He wasn’t only a soldier, but a warrior. He had surpassed dozens of other children his age, trained and studied ceaselessly, so that he might keep his father safe and make his homeland proud of him. He had been granted the power of the largest titan. With his transformation alone, he could destroy entire cities. With a single step, he could crush thousands.

What was he, when all of that was taken away? Bertolt Hoover was a whiny, nervous young man with no ambition. At least Reiner had the confidence to be a proper soldier and a proper friend. Even when he wasn’t armored, Reiner was strong beyond belief. The only reason Bertolt had made friends at all was because of Reiner. What would Bertolt be, if Reiner was no longer Reiner? Annie was in the Interior, and Marcel was dead. He would be alone. He would be only Bertolt, and that was certainly nothing impressive.

“Look at me, please,” y/n whispered as she took her outstretched palm and gently tapped her fingers on her underside of his chin. “Bertolt, you’re so sweet. You’re so good. We’re all so lucky to call you a friend. I think that might be the best thing you can do for Reiner. Be a good friend to him, like you already are. Don’t blame yourself. It might be hard to watch your friend go through something like that, but it’s not your fault. Understand?”

“I… I guess so.”

“That’s not a solid answer, Bertolt,” she admonished him with a laugh. Her hand still rested under his chin, and he found himself seeking the warmth of her palm like a cat leaning into a pet. “Try again?”

“It’s not my fault. I understand.” He wasn’t sure how, but he knew in his heart that he meant it.

“Good. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped you at all, but if you ever want to talk like this again, I’m always happy to talk to you.”

“Yes, you helped,” he rushed to tell her as she stood to finally gather the gas canisters. “I’m sorry I kept you so long. I hope you don’t get in trouble.”

“Ah, I doubt it,” she said as she stood and rolled her shoulders, cracking her arms behind her back. “I know I just spent the last few minutes telling you that other people aren’t your sole responsibility, but if I could borrow your height for a second—”

“Oh, of course!”

He hurried to his feet and carried the box down to her from the top shelf. Once it was safe in her arms, she gestured for him to lean down, so he did, learning to his right as though preparing to hear a secret. Instead of speaking, she planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Bertolt. Sleep well!”

“Oh, I—goodnight, y/n. Sleep well.”

She was already gone before he could reply. He was glad, though. He could not see his face, but he knew that it had to be bright red.

Dear y/n,

I don’t remember exactly when it was that I fell in love with you. It was a collection of little moments, I think. Maybe it was the first time you fell on top of me during training and flattened me like a pancake. I always thought it was funny how you described it the same way every time. “Flattened like a pancake” was such an odd phrase to me, but I grew to love it the more I heard you say it, and the more you actually did it.

I miss the times when I would hear you call out my name before running to leap on top of me. It was the first time I felt like someone was truly excited to see me. That was something that made me fall for you, too—physically and metaphorically, if you’ll pardon my bad joke.

I remember the morning I slept through breakfast, and you covered for me when Shadis yelled at me. You saved me one of your rolls from your breakfast so I wouldn’t be hungry during training. I remember asking you how I could repay you for your kindness, and you said that you didn’t do it in exchange for anything, but because we were friends.

There was the day we did training in the forest, and even though we were on opposite teams, you cheered for me when my team won more points than yours.

You listened to me every time I spoke to you, and you always gave me thoughtful advice. You knew when I needed to hear something serious and heartfelt, or when a joke would cheer me up. You knew when I needed space, or when I needed to be held. I could never understand how you knew what I needed without asking. When you said it was because you loved me, everything made sense. I knew what you meant, because I loved you too. I still do.

You are the only thing that has ever been mine.

When you said that you were mine, I couldn’t believe it. I don’t deserve to have you, but you told me over and over that you were mine, and that you would choose to be mine every day. You said that you would choose to be mine, even if I wasn’t yours. I didn’t know how to feel about that. I thought you must be crazy to think like that, but I accepted it, because I wanted you to be mine.

I gave up my body for my homeland, cut my life short so that my father could live in peace while I fought for a country that hated us. I dedicated my mind to my studies and to strategy. Every drop of my blood that was shed was shed for someone else. When I became a warrior, I no longer belonged to myself. When I became a soldier again on Paradis, I signed away my life and pledged devotion of my heart, but I never gave it. How could I, when you could take much better care of it?

All that I was belonged to someone else, but my heart belonged to you, and you were mine.

All my love,

Bertolt

Y/n had experienced her fair share of injury, but none of it was ever quite so painful or humiliating as the day she got smacked right out of the sky by one of the smallest titans she had ever seen.

The titan looked a bit like Armin, if she was being honest—shoulder-length blond haircut, big blue eyes, unimpressive height. That didn’t take away from the uncanny grin it bore on its distorted face. That didn’t detract from the terror she felt as it ran for her on its wrong-jointed legs, catching her at the exact moment she had intended to restock her gas and blades.

“C’mon, c’mon, shit,” she swore. As long as she could replace her gas, she could get away. She didn’t need to kill it, just to evade it until she could get some space. As soon as she had slid the new canisters into her gear, she pushed herself up from the ground to reach a nearby ledge that would just barely clear the titan’s head, but the little runt was too fast. It whacked a pudgy hand through the air in an arc just wide enough to smack y/n clear out of the sky.

She landed face-first, head smacking the dirt with an uncomfortable thump that rattled whatever brain she had left inside her head. The titan didn’t pursue her, though, and y/n could only guess that some other Scout had stumbled upon her misfortune.

“You owe me, dumbass,” Ymir said as she made her landing just beside y/n, having split open the titan’s nape mere seconds before. “You’re going to let that fucking thing kill you?”

“Maybe,” was all y/n whispered before she blacked out.

When she came to, the sounds of voices blurred all around her. She couldn’t tell who was around her, or how many there were, but she could pick out at least a few distinct tones.

“I’m sure she’ll be awake soon.”

“She got hit pretty hard, though. Right Ymir?”

“Yeah, idiot got smacked out of the sky. She’s lucky I was there to take care of it.”

“Ymir, don’t be cruel. Accidents happen, and you’ve had your fair share of incidents with titans.”

“She’ll be okay though, right?”

“She’s not dead. Look, you can see that she’s breathing.”

“Right. But after that, what if she… she won’t be permanently hurt, will she?”

“No, but she’ll have one hell of a headache.”

She did have one hell of a headache, so much so that she didn’t want to open her eyes, but she figured that she would put her friends out of their misery.

“Look, she’s waking up,” Jean announced, a bit too loudly for her comfort.

“I’ll go get some painkillers.”

Krista rushed from the room, but every head remained fixated on the pitiful patient laid out on the medical cot, squirming uncomfortably at both the pain and the attention. Aside from Jean and Krista, Ymir was also there, as was Bertolt, who sat closest to her with his arms folded on the edge of her cot.

“Y/n,” he whispered, unsure of what to say but burdened that he ought to say something to her. “You’re awake.”

“Mmhmm, I am.”

“I was really worried about you.”

Bertolt kept his voice low. He knew that the others could hear him, but he wished they would all turn away. He wanted to be selfish in that moment, to have all of y/n’s time for himself. When Ymir had showed up at the base with y/n slung over her shoulder, he had panicked. She had looked dead. When Ymir had slung her down onto a medical cot, and he had finally found her pulse when he pressed two fingers to her wrist, he had nearly wept with relief.

“I’m alright,” y/n sighed dreamily, stirring only when Krista returned with the painkillers. “I got whacked.”

“You did, you got whacked. You hit the ground pretty hard.”

“Yeah, that hurt really bad. I got… I got flattened like a pancake.”

Despite the worry that still sat heavy right at the center of his chest, he smiled. He was so wrapped up in her that he did not notice the others, smiling knowingly at one another before leaving them be.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hmm, the painkillers are helping. I feel all stiff, though. I landed funny on my arms.”

She lifted an arm and for the first time realized that her hand was wrapped in gauze. Her other arm appeared unscathed, but the sting suggested that she had skidded heavily against some rocks before making her landing.

“They had to pull some twigs from your arm,” Bertolt explained to her, taking her hand in his when she winced at her own movement. “You were pretty beat up when Ymir brought you back, but thankfully, it’s nothing that they couldn’t fix.”

“I still have all my limbs?”

“You still have all your limbs, yes.”

His thumb rubbed soothing circles against the back of her hand as he peered at her, looking up through his pretty lashes. He was awfully pretty. His hair had grown in the last few months, but she liked it. The ends fell in front of his face and softened his sharp features. His nose was elegant, aquiline. He could have been a noble, living in the lap of luxury in the Interior, but instead, he was a soldier at her bedside, holding her hand and batting his eyes and looking at her as though she were the only luxury to covet.

“You need to be more careful next time,” he admonished lightly. “You could have died.”

“I’m alright, Bertolt. Just a stupid mistake. I’ll try not to do it again.”

“Please, don’t scare me like that. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

“I’m sure you’d be alright. I’m nothing to get all worked up over.”

“You are. You mean so much to me, I—y/n, I can’t explain to you how much you mean to me. I care about you more than anything. I want to protect you, and keep you safe. I want… I want to do something stupid, y/n.”

“Hmm? What kind of stupid?”

“I don’t know. But it’s like you told me, weeks ago—confidence isn’t about always getting everything right. Confidence is about making a choice that I believe in, regardless of the consequences.”

“Alright. Should we get a healer first, then? Are you about to do something medically dangerous? I suppose it helps that we’re in the medical wing.”

He didn’t answer. Before she could question him further, he had already planted a soft kiss to her lips and backed away embarrassed.

“Wait—don’t leave, Bertolt, come back,” she called after him. He had already begun standing up, assuming the worst.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I shouldn’t have done that when you’re not feeling well. I probably shouldn’t have done it at all. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Bertolt, don’t leave. Please, come back.”

“You should rest. I did something stupid, and now I have to go figure out how I can make it right afterwards.”

“Bertolt, I want you to do it again.”

“What?”

He froze mid-step. Her bandaged hand was latched onto his shirt, lightly tugging at him like a small child, begging him to stay but not having the strength to force him. He stammered. He couldn’t process the fact that he had just kissed her, much less the fact that she wanted him to do it again.

Did that mean she liked it? Did that mean she liked him? Surely, there was no other reason to request a kiss besides attraction, but she had suffered a head injury earlier that day. Perhaps she wasn’t in her right mind.

“I want to go back to sleep, but I want you to stay here with me. Will you give me another kiss before I go back to sleep?”

“I—yes, if that’s alright with you.”

“It is. I’m the one who asked for it.”

“Okay, then.”

He took his seat beside her again, shaking with nerves but buzzing with the anticipation of it. The first kiss had been so brief that he could hardly appreciate it, but however brief, it had managed to make him feel like he was floating, drifting through the air unanchored and unburdened. The second kiss was a bit longer, a bit firmer, and she accepted it with a smile on her face.

“Thank you, Bertolt. Will you still be here when I wake up?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, y/n. Sweet dreams.”

Dear y/n,

I don’t know how much you know about my homeland. I don’t know if you’ve ever even heard of it. There’s a lot more going on than you might think, and a lot of it is not pleasant. I am hated there, so is Reiner, so is Annie. The only reason we can live decent lives is by becoming warriors. If we use the power of the titans to protect our homeland, our families can live in peace.

The world is cruel. I doubt I need to remind you of this.

When you asked me about the ocean, I began to believe that the world was beautiful, too. I dreamed of taking you for a walk by the sea, watching you in the sunlight, watching you laugh as you played in the water.

I wanted to tell you that I have visited the ocean before, and that it is very real. All that Armin said about it is true, but words and pictures can’t capture the way it makes you feel. I took it for granted before I lived on Paradis. I should have appreciated it more while I had the chance.

I’m sure that you all will find it, someday. I wish I could be there to see the sunshine on your face. I know you will be beautiful.

All my love,

Bertolt

“Y/n, stay close to me.”

“I’m right behind you. And I also have my very own swords, so I’ll be alright.”

“I know,” Bertolt agreed reluctantly. When he turned to illuminate her face by the light of his lantern, she was grinning up at him. Even in shadow, she was lovely. “But it helps to know that you’re close. Stay with me, please?”

“I will,” she promised, quietly so that no one else could hear. “Lucky for me, you’re easy to find in a crowd.”

The length of their cloaks concealed their hands, held tight and swinging between them as they walked the perimeter of Wall Rose. Since their first kiss, they had come to the mutual decision that pursuing a steady relationship would be unwise. That didn’t mean that they refrained from holding hands whenever possible, and sharing the occasional kiss when circumstances allowed.

Bertolt knew he was living on borrowed time. The Survey Corps was closing in on Annie. Titans had appeared within Wall Rose, and though there was no breach to speak of in the wall itself, Bertolt was almost sure he knew exactly what had happened to the inhabitants of Ragako Village. He hadn’t been able to look Connie in the eye.

When he had watched Ymir transform, he knew that he was in the midst of a problem that he and Reiner could not handle alone. All the time he had spent idle, savoring the time he could pretend he was not a warrior, was long past.

It drove him mad to know that y/n was still holding his hand, despite all that he was, despite all that he would inevitably have to do.

Didn’t she know? Couldn’t she tell? She looked into his eyes so often, telling him that their color was so beautiful, that he seemed to hold so much love in just his eyes. Couldn’t she see behind it all? Surely, she could tell that behind all the love he held for her, there was a boiling mass of guilt that weighed his every action.

“That’s so strange,” she mused quietly as she lifted her lantern, illuminating yet another untouched portion of the wall. “I don’t see anything, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Hold on—there’s a little spot up there. See it?”

“I think so. Right above that brick?”

“Yes, right there. Lift me up, please?”

He ducked down, allowing her to clamber on top of his shoulders, as she had done several times before. She liked to use him as a ladder at times, or as a step-stool, and he happily obliged just to feel her close, just to hear her giggle as he adjusted her to sit on his shoulders.

“Hmm, I think it was just a trick of the light. You can put me down now, Bertolt, thank you.”

He carefully hoisted her down, letting her stop on the way to place a grateful kiss to his nose. They walked in silence for the next few minutes, enjoying the calm of the evening after such a chaotic day, but Bertolt still could not quiet the unease that sat in his stomach.

“Y/n, I think that things are about to change,” he said, forthright and confident—he had nothing to fear in her presence. He did not have to dilute his worries in front of her. “Today was difficult, and I think it’s only going to get worse from here.”

As she turned to him, her face was broken into shadow in the low light, her furrowed brow and scrunched nose creating shadowed planes across her pensive face.

“Yeah, I think you’re right. I’m not even sure what to think about everything that happened today, honestly. It’s kind of scary. I guess that’s what we signed up for, though, right?”

“Yeah. Right. But y/n, if something happens to me, you’ll be okay.”

“What? Don’t talk like that, Bertolt. I don’t want to think like that right now.”

“Look at me, please,” he said, tugging on her arm to catch her attention. The dark sheltered them from the prying eyes of their friends, so he pulled her to his chest. “I’m not saying that something will happen to me, or that something will happen to you, but if it does, you’ll be okay.”

“I know. I will be okay. I try to be prepared for it. I know that it’s coming. Not all of our friends will make it out of this alive, and I know that, but it’s hard to think that it might be you. You’ll try your best to stay alive, though, right?”

“I will, if that’s what you want.”

“I do, but I want you to want that. You should stay alive for yourself, not for me,” she playfully admonished him, burying her forehead into his chest and relishing in the sound of his beating heart. “And if I’m the one who dies first, I want you to be okay.”

“I don’t even want to think about that, y/n, I… I love you. I love you, and I want you to be safe.”

“I love you, too.”

It was the first time they had exchanged those words, but it hardly felt out of the ordinary. It was more an observation that anything, as though recognizing that the sky was blue or that the sun was bright. Had they never said it aloud, it would not have made it untrue.

The world was cruel. Bertolt knew this as well as anyone. But as long as there was love to be found in the quiet corners of the world, he could find a reason to survive it.

Dear y/n,

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

“I’m the Armored Titan, and Bertolt is the Colossal.”

Reiner had well and thoroughly lost it, and no amount of damage control that Bertolt could muster would save them from the confrontation that would inevitably take place. He gritted his teeth and tried to convince his friends that Reiner was telling a poorly-timed joke, but the tension had already risen beyond breaking point.

He didn’t want to transform. His transformation wasn’t a pleasant experience, nor was the aftermath of it all, but for a brief moment, Reiner had been restored.

Reiner had turned to Bertolt, looked him in the eye, and told him that he intended to fulfill the mission for which they had trained for so many years. In that moment, he was Reiner Braun, Marleyan Warrior, hero to his family and his homeland. It had been enough to convince Bertolt to follow through.

“Are you a soldier, or are you a warrior?” Reiner had asked him, leaning in close before the wall erupted in a flash of light.

Now, all he could see below him was rubble and steam. Little figures buzzed around the wall like flies, but he knew that none of them could come close to him with the sheer amount of heat that radiated from him. He was disgusting, and he knew it. The Colossal Titan was not strong and terrifying like the Armored, or lithe and quick like the Female or Attack. He was a mass of open muscle and bone. He was ugly, and his actions were as well.

Through the chaos, he could not see the single figure that pressed forward towards him, held back only by her comrades.

“Y/n, you can’t get any closer, I’m sorry,” Jean yelled to her through the noise. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“No, no, please,” she gasped. The heat was sweltering on her skin, but she knew she could get closer. Even if she could get close enough to look him in the eye, maybe she could do something. “Let me go, let me see him.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Connie shouted. “He’s the enemy, now. He’ll kill you if you get any closer.”

He wouldn’t. She wanted to believe that, but she couldn’t she sure. If she was enough of an obstruction to his mission, would he crush her? Would he bury her in rubble and leave her to be eaten by a meandering titan?

“Bertolt!” she shrieked, but the sound did not reach him. He was too far away, and he was too far gone.

Dear y/n,

I think I am losing myself.

Do you remember what I told you about Reiner? He seemed like two different people at times. I couldn’t explain it to you properly then, but I understand it now. He couldn’t reconcile the respect he had for his fellow soldiers with the terrible things he had done. There were times that I looked at Eren, knowing that it was my actions that led to his mother’s death, and I wished that I could separate that from myself, that I could be an entirely new person who had never committed such atrocities.

I feel the weight of my actions now more than ever, but I do not have the luxury of losing my mind. I am all too aware of the things I have done, and the things I must do.

If there is ever a way I can make any of it right, I pray that I will have the courage to take that chance.

All my love,

Bertolt

Bertolt had been right about the ocean.

Even if he had tried to describe it, y/n was sure that nothing could compare to the feeling that bubbled in her chest, the way the sunlight shined like gold across the laughing faces of her friends. She couldn’t help but smile herself, despite the sadness that weighed heavy on her with every step across the shore.

They had been talking about eating Bertolt as though it was the only option. The Commander should eat Bertolt, Armin should eat Bertolt, someone had to eat Bertolt.

They could have let him live, she thought. They could have waited until he had woken up, tried to bargain with him. He could keep his life, if he would come back to Paradis.

She knew it was an untenable position. No one would have listened to her if she had spoken it aloud. She only would have been mocked as a lovesick fool, but she was alright with that. Being a lovesick fool had kept her alive that long; surely, it couldn’t hurt to live in that delusion a little longer, at least.

When Armin—the thing that was supposedly Armin—had crawled onto the rooftop, she had closed her eyes and covered her ears like a frightened child in a thunderstorm. She didn’t need to see how Bertolt fought to get away, or to hear how he cried out for help in his final moments.

“You’re thinking about him,” Mikasa spoke up from beside her. “Don’t.”

“I can’t really help it, can I?”

“You two were close. I’m sorry that things happened the way they did.”

Y/n couldn’t blame Mikasa for her nature. She wasn’t one to dilute her opinions or hold back her emotion, particularly where Eren was involved. Bertolt’s death was just another number in among the hundreds who had died to keep Eren safe, and while y/n couldn’t disagree with Eren’s importance, she wasn’t keen to look over the incident entirely.

“I know, Mikasa. I’ll try not to think of it too much. And if I do, I’ll only use it to push forward. That’s the only direction we can go from here, right? We can only go forward.”

“That’s… an admirable way to look at it.”

Dear y/n,

I can hear you outside the wall. Even when you’re shouting, your voice is so pretty.

I don’t know if I’ll live through the day, but I want you to know something important. Even after I am dead, my memory of you will live on in the next colossal titan. For thousands of years, anyone who inherits this power will see you in their memory.

They might not know who you are, or why they remember you, but they will know that you are brilliant and beautiful and kind. They will know that you are loved, and they will know that I loved you.

I hope that this will keep you safe. I hope that the next doomed fool who takes this power will recognize you, and will protect you.

The fighting outside is getting closer. I don’t know how this will end. I don’t know what I will do, even in the next few seconds, but I am reassured by the sound of your voice. As long as I can hear you fighting, I can know that you are still alive.

I hope that you will not have to see me as I die, but I want your face to be the last thing I see.

I have said it before, but I will say it again, and I will say it as many times as I can before I die: I love you.

I love you, and I hope

She tugged uncomfortably at the strap on her waist, the one that kept her skirts from falling to her ankles. It was a bit too snug, but she couldn’t afford to be picky, under the circumstances. She was already unaccustomed to wearing skirts at all, given that her usual attire consisted of knee-high boots and gear straps.

She stuck beside her group for the most part, not wanting to get lost or discovered in such a dangerous place, but she couldn’t help but linger around familiar places.

Y/n had never been to Liberio, of course, but she could recognize all the little details Bertolt had described in his letters. She had long since given up the wish that he could be there with her, but as she looked over the marketplace, the pang of yearning struck her suddenly.

“He loved you,” Armin said, low but clear even under the noise of the bustling street.

“Armin, I—”

“I mean, he really loved you. He loved you.”

“Armin, that’s—”

“He thought about marrying you, and spending the rest of his life with you. He thought about running away with you, and—”

“Armin, that’s enough. Thank you for whatever it is you’re trying to do, but every time I look at you, I have to try to forget that you consumed the love of my life, and you’re not making it any easier on me.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t do it again, please.”

Armin left her alone, but she could feel his sympathetic gazes on her for the rest of the day. She could never be sure exactly how much about her that Armin knew, or how much he felt for her. He didn’t seem to retain quite the same feelings that Bertolt had for her, but sometimes, when he looked at her, there was a curious softness to his eyes.

Armin didn’t love her, but he knew what loving her felt like.

Y/n clutched the roll of paper that she had hidden in her bag. She hadn’t told anyone that she had it, but it wasn’t their business anyway. She wasn’t even sure where she would put it—throw it in the ocean, perhaps, or leave it in a tree hollow. It would never reach its intended audience, no matter where she put it.

It wasn’t until they reached a quiet corner of the city, hidden away from the markets and the boardwalk, that she found the right place. A row of simple plaques set into stone, honoring the warriors who had given their lives for Marley, sat in the middle of an unimpressive garden, behind an unexciting building. It was clear just how little the Marleyans regarded Eldians, even when bestowed with the power of the titans, even when their blood was spilt on foreign ground and in lonely places.

She pulled the note from her bag and buried it just beside the stone, under a bush where likely no one would be digging it up.

Dear Bertolt,

I’ve made it to your hometown.

I read all of your letters, and there is so much that I want to say to you. I don’t know if I can ever express it to you in words. When we sat together in silence, that was always enough. None of the words I spoke to you ever meant as much as the time we spent together, as the unspoken conversations we had.

I don’t know that I will ever understand what you did or why you did it, but I don’t need to. By this point, I have done plenty of things that I am not proud of. I know now that in the coming days, I will have to do terrible things. I am doing it to survive, as I always have. I am doing it for the lives of my friends, and the lives of all those on Paradis. I know that if you could read these words, you would understand.

Liberio is beautiful. The people here are lively, and the market is full of little treasures that I would love to bring home with me. I’m sure I will leave with my pockets full of souvenirs. I understand why you would want to protect this place.

I wondered if I might meet your father while I am here, but I don’t think it would be wise to look for him. If he is still alive, he might still be in danger simply because he is Eldian. I am having a hard enough time concealing my own identity. I would not want him to be caught up in our schemes. I would like to tell him that he can be proud of his son. I would like to tell him that you died defending your friends and your home, and that even when lost in a land of strangers, you managed to find love and beauty and small moments of peace.

Most importantly, I want to tell you this: I loved you, I love you, and I will always love you.

Your sins are not so great that they could ever erase that truth from my heart.

I do not know what awaits any of us after death, but if there is a place where I can meet you again, wait for me there. I’ll come find you when my time is through. When we meet again, we can forget all of it. I will forgive all that you have done, if you promise not to judge me for what I now must do.

Until then, rest in peace, and know that my heart is yours.

All my love,

Y/n

#bertolt x reader #bertolt hoover x reader #bertholdt x reader #bertholdt hoover x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot imagine #bertolt imagine #bertolt hoover imagine #HOW MANY WAYS CAN I SPELL HIS NAME #BERUTORUTO PLEASE #i write all my stuff in microsoft word but word makes it impossible to copy paste onto tumblr #so i have to copy paste from ao3 and it makes me feel bad #me copying and pasting something that I WROTE 'i'm a plagiarist ;('

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