STARTER      :         @feiglng​​     /     𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙝    .

       ↳    send   ‘ 💬  ’    for a  generated  dialogue starter .

𝐀  𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒       at  her  feet ,    the  steaming  limbs       near - lethal to any other .    it’d been a while since eren was this   gone .   the morbidly curious part of her wonders what the hell he’d been trying to achieve this time .    the honest part knows she’ll get no answer .    never would .   whether it’s stubborn ,   embarrassed will or mere disregard .   eren’s  much of the same in many ways  no one  dares admit .    she stands over him .

slaughter the young bull  /  make swift sacrifice of your sanctions .    seems he thinks the world will answer faster that way .    thought  it might ,    maybe .    in many ways ,   the bastard’s actions feel twice as reckless with half the spirit .   two thirds of a whole ,   for what he believes in .    wants to  be .   ymir has long decided it isn’t her problem .   her eyes come up to the contemplation over form when she hears footsteps approaching .    she meets floch there ,   gaze quickly closing with a sigh .    great .    her palms come up ,    empty .

                                 ❛      he was unconscious when i  found  him .     ❜

STARTER      :         @worstheir ​     /     𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖   .

        ↳    send   ‘  💬  ’    for a  generated  dialogue starter .

𝐈𝐓'𝐒  𝐀𝐍  𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄  𝐈𝐍  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓       like none other :      the burn of flowers once blooming ,   festering through her ribs like disease .    Like mayhem .    Historia  /  heliotrope   —   she should've taken  heed  to the fear of darkness .   Instead she stands in the weeds of it ,   unable to gather the strength to leave them be .    Why she bothers ,   why she’s still   trying  ,   why she turns around when Historia offers her a   perfectly  good  out ,   rage in her eyes and hurry in her movements :

                               ❛     Are you  kidding me  ?     We’re not  ‘ fine ’   !    ❜

BELLECOSEBABE​​      :         𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣   .

@resurrged said,  ’ you look like something pulled out of a shower drain. ’

“I feel like something pulled out of a shower drain.” All wet hair and soggy clothes scattered about her feet, it wasn’t a shameful admittance, at most disgruntled, and she’d fight with the older cadets again. Sometime soon, maybe not in the next few days, or even the next week, but soon enough that there would be no doubt to her motivations. Blonde hair gathered up in her hands and she twisted more of the lake water into the sink. 

“What’d you stay up this late just for the opportunity to mock me?”

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐋  𝐎𝐅  𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐘  𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒       fill  the  crevices  of  wood       on the floor around Verin ,    creating a turbid halo around the discarded garments .    Ymir holds the book she’d occupied her time with by the page she’d ended on ,    attention fully  reestablished .    She only snorts in response .    There’s no hesitation to exaggerate the quirk grown on her lips .         ❛    Something like that ,   ❜     she tells her ,    arm coming out to dangle off the side of her bed .        ❛   Wanted to hear how the bright idea went down  this time .    First hand ,   if   lady luck   would have it.   ❜

her fingers grip around the paper foldings of the box , incessant on trying to rip it off again . a nervous tick . a need for perfection , stuffed into the crevices of her mind saying this is already enough . when had she last really known what it was , that historia might like ? the years have passed with nothing but empty guesses , observations / and she feels foolish for even keeping this much of an effort . threads of their past weave in her like stitches . a form fills , there / too . disconnected , too sour a copper taste on the tip of her tongue . it may be attachment . a bond too strong to ever let go . ymir would rather say it tastes of hope . it doesn't matter . piqued by her own wasted time , she sets the box down , finally , with a sigh — brows twitching into a deeper frown . she'll leave it here to be found without a note . if she's lucky , it'll pass as vague enough a gift to be from anyone - a thanks unneeded and words kept about as fruitful as the space they'd left each other in . sometimes ends just aren't quite as sudden or sure as you'd like them to be .

HISU DAY 2K22 - @resurrged

DEEP  LINES  AND  VIOLET  BRUISES  STAIN  UNDER  EYES, offering an air of permanent exhaustion to the queens already wan visage. She scowls at her reflection as she catches sight of it in one of the many mirrors that dotted the corridors. Four years had worn her thin; stretching her so taught she might just vanish all together. It’s a ghost that meets blue eyes, Krista long defeated and something that only resembled Historia remaining, whoever she had been in the first place. She never really knew... After hours of pomp and circumstance, she was free to slip from the crowded hall, across the castle and into the blessed silence of her office. Rarely does her crown feel heavier than these scant moments of quietude. When she is forced to acknowledge her reality whether she wishes to or not. In front of them she can place the mask on her face as easily as the diadem in her hands. In the silence she cannot hide from herself. The queen places it wearily atop her desk, collapsing in the armchair with a sigh that ruffles flaxen hair. She much preferred when her birthday was a tragic event to be forgotten over the appalling displays of decadence that was forced upon her now. The false simpering smile more sickening than the despair that weathered the face of Alma Lenz.

Historia nearly misses the tiny package that sits just next to her abandoned crown. Nondescript and plainly wrapped, it was out of place amongst the frilly nicknacks that adorned it. She turns it over, shaking it a little as if expecting it to offer a clue as to what was inside.  There was no note attached and few were allowed even near this space in present circumstance. Had she not practically sprinted from her party, there might have been guards. stoically awaiting her return. Curious in spite of herself, Historia nimbly unwraps the box and peers within. On a tiny mound of cloth sits a charm: A pewter dandelion, small enough to fit in the center of her palm with a small hole to slip a cord through. The tips of slender fingers trace over the dips and divots that accented the metal piece. It takes her a moment to recognize the shard of ICE that lodges in her heart upon seeing it. A delayed reaction that hurts all the more when realization settles as lightly as a brick to her sternum. It could have come from anyone, she knew. A small trinket from a servant or guard who could give her little else. But only one knew her favorite flower.

She remembers a balmy summers day when their squad was given permission to play down by the lake. Ymir and Historia had opted to lounge in the shade of an old oak tree while the others goofed off on the shore. Her companion had watched dispassionately as Reiner hoisted Connie up into the air and tossed him like a javelin into the water, yowling like a cat as the others cheered him on. Historia had been far too enraptured by the little pile of dandelions in her lap to pay them any mind, small fingers meticulously weaving green stems together. She vaguely calls Ymir asking her why she was looking at those stupid weeds like such a sap. They were such an irritant, they never went away no matter how many times you tried to get rid of them, an eternal problem that popped up everywhere... ‘That’s why I like them.’ Historia had replied as she daintily placed the golden crown atop Ymir’s head before she could protest ‘They grow anywhere. Even the cracks in the cobblestones in Trost... I don’t know, it just makes me happy to think about. You always have flowers on hand when you need them.’ She was likely too young to notice the innate symbolism there, the dots never connecting that she was the weed. The resilient little plant wanted by few and needed by none... Maybe Ymir had picked up on it, for she had gone quiet after and didn’t crush her crown in an unforgiving fist as she might have otherwise, her silence contemplative. 

Bitter tears sting her eyes now as Historia closes her fist ‘round the little charm, feeling the edges pressing harshly into soft skin [ skin losing callous and grit from farm and war ] It hurts that she still remembers this insignificant detail that others would have long since cast aside. A dog-eared page in a book shelved and forgotten. They had drifted so far it ought to be inconsequential now, like ships in the night that had, in fact, seen each other but were simply unable to stop the flowing tides that carried them far away. It was frightening just how easy it had happened. The visits between them grew shorter and shorter, as did conversations. It felt awkward now, terribly so. When had that happened? Why? The passing years had dug a trench between them before either could hop to the other side. Not that circumstance would have allowed it, she now knows. Historia was keenly aware of how she had been sequestered away from the others, her new keepers no doubt fearing outside influences from the headstrong 104th. From Ymir, the ultimate outsider. Their promise on the mountain all those years ago felt foolish now, the vows of children. Their lives had never been their own. Their paths were always to diverge no matter how they wished otherwise. But why hadn’t she fought? Why hadn’t she tried? [ Why didn’t you? ] 

Ymir had always looked at her as though there was something on the tip of her tongue she kept biting back. So hard, Historia oft imagined crimson trickling from between her lips and down her chin. Something so terribly unlike herself she felt as though she looked at a stranger. The queen settles forward in her chair, resting her head atop her arms, glaring at her closed fist as those tears trail down the apples of her cheeks. Why bother remembering if it was all for naught? She hadn’t even left a note, hadn’t signed her name nor indicated the gift was even for her birthday. Historia ought to free grateful Ymir had remembered, but all she feels is the sharp jagged tugs of ‘what if’s’ and ‘could have been’s’. Krista would have been overjoyed. Krista would have slipped past her guards and found her friend in whatever room they shelved her in and cling to her for dear life in thanks. But Historia has only raw nerves and empty spaces where all the things she longed for were scooped out again and again.

Still... Not once does the charm leave her hand.

*   WHAT BRAND OF STUPID ARE YOU  ?

BASTARD  stupid :        swears are your language and crime is your profession. your reason for doing just about anything is because you could, no matter how stupid it was. why did you set that fence on fire? to watch it burn. why did you put that bug in your mouth? to see what it tastes like. why did you teach that kid to say fuck? its funny. keeping you around is like housing a cartoon villain but at least you know how to pick locks so that's a reason to let you stay.

tagged by :   @bellecosebabe :* tagging :   @betrayerd,  @abritons,  @feiglng,  @sashasseuse / @soliidtrust ,  @astralwalker ,   @shiganshinas . anyone else . i wanna see everyone i can’t pick for the life of me 🔪

STARTER      :         @massensterben​​     /     𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙩    .

       ↳    send   ‘ 💬  ’    for a generated dialogue starter .

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇  𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐃       her  strictly  to  the  carcass       of her form .   It’s fucking cold .    Clammy .   Wind hits her skin and she shakes the wet strands out of her eyes .    (  Never gets better ,    does it ? ) .    Years of a nightmare and it feels like centuries still  /  endless  /   feverlike .    The comparison helps nothing .    Discomfort consumes her ,   and all she can do is shove it aside .  (  Remember :   why now ?    AH   —   )    the fear settles once more .    A  panic  .    Emptiness .    Ymir shifts her eyes around the scene ,   wondering if size alone made her miss their last standing .    She counts them and then counts again ,    counts until she’s more tense than the ligaments pulling her skin and her mind’s nothing but a reeling cacophony wondering  :    is she  blind  ?    No .   She’s not .   And she can’t be the first to notice ,   eyes landing on the figure of her company ,   long and looming and now the current subject of her fury .        ❛     You  were supposed to be watching him  !     ❜

STARTER      :         @astralwalker​     /     𝙗𝙡𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙚    .

       ↳    send   ‘ 💬  ’    for a generated dialogue starter .

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏  ,       ymir  has  every  intent  to     get her gear fixed on her own .   in any other circumstance ,   where a snapped cog wasn’t pushing the very limits of her ,   she could do it .   a replacement part isn't rocket science .   but her hands are still shaking with  vengeance ,    upset reeking heavy .    she hears that she’s not alone and it makes her grind down on her teeth .    a string snaps under her nails .    the voice bleeds in her ears ,   thick and viscous .   when ymir focuses away from it ,   she’s consumed by the smell of gasoline .   she doesn’t care to acknowledge it .   that doesn’t mean it’s   welcome .

                              she’s filled with impurities :   fleshed to the bone .   she didn’t need  blythe  to tell her that .   fingers clench the gear in her hand and with a rough swear under her breath ,    she turns to push it at the engineer’s chest ,   nose rising it the slightest to meet height with her senior .        ❛     try focusing more on  your  life and less on mine  !   ❜

STARTER      :         @shiganshinas​     /     𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖   .

       ↳    send   ‘ 💬  ’    for a generated dialogue starter .

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐒  𝐎𝐅       sacrifice  makes  for  half     its battle .    most of its  pain .   to know where you burn ,   where your skin goes from ash to burning bones .   which limbs you  choose  to lose .    ymir’s the first to admit her hypocrisy .    she has every reason to be angry  with historia   —   and every instinct to believe her  displeasure’s  easily met with the counter .    who is  she   to judge ?    by the time they’re alone again ,   the mere slam of a door pushes that vexation out like the rush of passing bodies .   hollowed .    (   haunted .   as the rest of her .   had that anger found refuge ?    it was gone now ,    either way )  .                     ymir’s hand slides down the wood ,    her body falling back against it .   her arms cross ,   eyes  coming up  from the ground to look at historia .   she  feels  the melancholy wash through both of them .   ‘ keeping her mouth shut ’   keeps sounding like harder a lesson to learn as the days go by .    she sighs ,        ❛     you were always the  quiet one .    ❜

now would Probably be a good time to mention my survival verses if u would like to let me write in them i’ll give you my entire heart :

001.   stays in paradis   ( “chooses historia” )              ymir manages to fight against her saviour complex & doesn’t give herself up to reiner & bertholdt. trains alongside eren since a rogue titan’s easier to manage with another titan. continues to fight with the corps & grows closer to the 104ths as historia becomes disjoint from them.

002.   stays in marley   ( “salty porco verse” )               manages to convince the marlean army she’s an asset & probably only stops protests from her peers via thinly veiled threats @ the other warriors. just reads right into their insecurities. still gets a letter out to historia but becomes MIA and Presumed Dead until the rumbling, where she realigns with the 104ths to fight eren.

003.   born in paradis   ( “non-titan verse” )               receives the name ymir from a cult within the walls, same fate to them still applies, but she manages to escape while they try and hold her for questioning. path follows the same from there but her lack of titan powers makes her privy to injury during the clash arc, ending her military career by the time historia gets crowned and retires as an guard within the castle / inner city.

&  these are all subject to minor change based on muns and what we’re plotting ( combine your aus with mine c: )  but yeah there’s the gist all i ask is that she is more than a feral lesbian it’s a respectable identity just not Enough

Send 💬  for me to make you a starter with a random line of dialogue from this generator.

the Way this aged like fine wine

loved y.mir’s guest appearance as the clang in r.einer’s chest last episode can’t wait to see what her essence gets up to this week !!

𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑳𝒀 𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑫𝑬 .    (   angst - oriented  sentence  starters .   dark  &  potentially triggering  themes  are  present .   )  

❛  no …   no ,   why  would  you  do  that ?  ❜ ❛  fight  back .   fight  back !  ❜ ❛  when  were  you  going  to  tell  me ?  ❜ ❛  don’t  fucking  touch  me .  ❜ ❛  you  promised .   you  fucking  promised .  ❜ ❛  i  never  wanted  to  hurt  you .  ❜ ❛  run .   run  &  don’t  stop .  ❜ ❛  you’re  a  fucking  stereotype .  ❜ ❛  please  don’t  go …   please  don’t  go .  ❜ ❛  i’m  putting  you  out  of  your  misery .  ❜ ❛  what  makes  you  think  i’d  listen  to  a  word  you  say ?  ❜ ❛  this  is  what  you  think  love  is ??  ❜ ❛  i  never  should’ve  trusted  you .  ❜ ❛  i  love  you .   is  that  what  you  wanted  to  hear ?  ❜ ❛  you’re  so  fucking  pathetic .  ❜ ❛  nobody  can  help  me .  not  even  you .  ❜ ❛  don’t  act  like  you  know  me .  ❜ ❛  i’ve  got  my  own  shit  to  deal  with .  ❜ ❛  i’m  saying  my  goodbyes .  ❜ ❛  please  don’t  go .  ❜ ❛  i’d  rather  drop  dead .  ❜ ❛  i  loved  you ,  you  know ?  ❜ ❛  talk  to  me .  ❜ ❛  what ,   was  i  just  a  charity  case ??  ❜ ❛  i  feel  so  fucking  stupid .  ❜ ❛  i  want  to  be  alone .  ❜ ❛  that’s  low ,   even  for  you .  ❜ ❛  say  that  again ,   i  fucking  dare  you .  ❜ ❛  i  can’t …  i  can’t  feel  my  -  ❜ ❛  i’m  so  fucking  tired ,   i  just …   i  can’t .  ❜ ❛  we’ve  missed  so  much .  ❜ ❛  what ,   you’re  gonna  shoot  me ?  ❜ ❛  you’re  nothing .  ❜ ❛  stop  looking  at  me  like  that .   like  i’m  broken .  ❜ ❛  you’ve  lost  a  lot  of  blood .  ❜ ❛  don’t  shut  me  out .  ❜ ❛  it’s  not  real .   it’s  not  real .  ❜ ❛  you’re  just  saying  what  i  want  to  hear .  ❜ ❛  i  swear ,   i’ll  kill you .  ❜ ❛  stop …   just  stop  fucking  lying .   stop .  ❜ ❛  just  tell  me  what  you  did .  ❜ ❛  i  already  know  what  you  did ,   i  just  want  to  hear  it  from  you .  ❜ ❛  i  needed  you  to  be  different .  ❜ ❛  how  long  has  it  been  since  you’ve  eaten ?  ❜ ❛  put  the  [ gun / knife ]  down .  ❜ ❛  what  do  you  want  from  me ?  ❜ ❛  we’ve  lost  so  much  time .  ❜ ❛  i  really  fucking  hate  you ,   sometimes .  ❜ ❛  i  can’t  …   i  can’t ,   i  can’t  do  this  today .  ❜ ❛  you  know ,   i  never  wanted  to  hurt  you .  ❜ ❛  i  shouldn’t  have  to  beg  you  to  love  me .  ❜ ❛  i  don’t  owe  you  shit .  ❜ ❛  don’t  say  it ,   don’t  fucking  say  it .  ❜ ❛  it  sounds  like  you’ve  been  crying …  ❜

get yourself a girl who loves you the way @desolyt loves e/rwin smith

Sorry about that. I might’ve pried too much.

loved y.mir’s guest appearance as the clang in r.einer’s chest last episode can’t wait to see what her essence gets up to this week !!

ymir panel redraw

she sneaks up on ymir from behind, trying her best to be quiet with a grin on her face. // "Happy birthday!!"

〢▓█  ✕   𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄   ▷▷    @rulerofthesewalls

                                the sound is sudden;  her eyes opening       wide to fix on the figure behind her.    she can only return such a smile at the gesture,  eyes already in crescents as she stands.   and unconditionally,  she stands:  her heartbeat a rhythm  /  humming into the abyss.   an echo, enduring  /  of holly  &  violets.   gardenias under geranium tints.               ❛   never forgot after i told ya’,  huh  ?   ❜     she casts an arm over historia’s head,  tucking the blonde in close enough to draw them nose to nose,  brow quirked in teasing inquiry,       ❛    so,  what’re you getting me ?   ❜