#it is a love letter to all the people who came before us and fought for knowledge
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arataka-reigen · 6 days ago
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If you only have time for one anime this anime season istg you must use that time on Orb: On the Movements of the Earth. It is airing on netflix and is definitely anime of the season to me, and I have only seen 3 episodes so far. The first episode felt a bit pretentious, and i didn't love the characters at first, so i initially dismissed it and gave it a low score, but the second and third episodes turned my opinion around and showed me just how much love and admiration for the cosmos the creators of this show truly have. This anime is about the journey from geocentrism towards heliocentrism. The third episode was especially important to show the wonders and the horrors of the time period this anime is portraying and how our current knowledge relies on the sacrifice and persistence of so many people who went against the knowledge of the time, against the Church, against everything they were taught, in pursuit of the truth.
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gor3sigil · 2 months ago
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I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.
[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]
“Are you sure ?” she asked.
I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.
“Why do you ask ?” I say.
“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”
That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.
I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:
There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.
I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.
And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.
Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.
Or did it ?
Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?
But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?
“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”
Neither do I, RIGHT ?
Oh
Or do I ?
Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?
How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?
And what do we say to that ?
Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.
Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?
All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.
No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.
No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.
And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.
If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.
To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.
And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.
So I’ll explain very carefully.
See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.
And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.
I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.
Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.
Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.
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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 months ago
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Spoiled Brat
Remus Lupin x Fem!Gaunt!Reader
August Taylor Swift
Masterlist
Summary: When your escapism over the summer turns a bit more real, as you fall in love with a half blood your father would never approve of}
Wc- 3642
Cw: Use of {Y/N}, sexual themes and scenes, cussing, }
A/N- This was an idea I have been toying with for a while, this may become a mini-series if you'd like
Taglist- @otterlockholmes
If it was one thing your parents stuck into your head when you were younger, it was that you, {Y/N} Gaunt, were better than any other witch in your presence. 
‘The Lost Gaunt’ is what they referred to you as. You, and of course, your parents fed into this idea. People were sure they had died out, either from your family's admittedly embarrassing financial status, or from a few choice family members disgracing your blood line with Muggle blood.
It wasn't a secret, your family's blood soaked history and ideals on muggles of any variety. Your father spoke especially lowly of half bloods, saying they were some of the most loathsome and desperate of them all, with parents who tainted their good family names by giving it to scum. 
Very opinionated, that man.
You were much the same when you were younger. Snappy and spoiled, demanded everything and no one ever fought you on it. Even with your family's position with lack of wealth, when your parents came out of hiding as Voldemort started his horrid flock, your father didn't hesitate to join. There was no lack of support from expected places. Every pureblood with half sense wanted to be in the good graces of the heir of Slytherin, even if she didn't attend the school. Little you was treated like an absolute princess. Even receiving a letter from Durmstrang personally, your father opting for the obvious choice, burning your Hogwarts letter before you even read it. 
It made you an absolute terror when you got to the foreign school. Suddenly, you weren't as special as you were in London. Your name still carried a lot of marit, but so did several other students. You learned to keep your mouth shut, to keep your cards to your chest, and eventually, you unlearned everything your parents taught you. You met half bloods there, stronger than you had ever known witches and wizards to be, making close friends with several other open minded purebloods and friendly half bloods. 
Of course, you still had a family name to uphold. You studied and worked your hardest, eventually making it high enough on a social latter that Gaunt no longer mattered, but {Y/N} did. 
You started your rebellious streak in year 4, when your father asked you if you wanted to return home for the summer. It was the first time he gave you the choice, you refused. Instead, you traveled to Muggle London without his knowing. You went with a few friends, half bloods, they wanted to show you where they grew up. Your father would have your head for this. You thought in amusement as you danced through the market and gawked at all the muggle contraptions. You were sure to them you looked absolutely delirious, but you couldn't care less in the moment.
You wandered down the streets with a few girls who had broken off from the group. When you noticed a record store, your friends waved you off, refusing to join when they knew you'd be in there for hours. A boy who fancied you gifted you a small record player, and since then, you had been collecting muggle records at any opportunity. Thank Merlin your father didn't keep track of your spending.
You walked in with your head held high, you already gave off the impression of someone too good to be there, a force of habit. You walked down the aisle and searched the albums, dismissing people who tried to educate you on what was best, mostly men trying to impress you, you figured. Nothing more charming than being spoken down to. Eventually, you made it to some of the older ones, clearly used and used and used again. A soft yellow album caught your eye from the top shelf. Etta Jones? You thought for a moment. You had never seen it before, but the woman on the cover looked beautiful. 
You got on your toes and began to balance on a shelf, struggling to reach the damned record. You have a huff, ready to give in, before you hear a chuckle behind you. Whipping your head around you nearly spun around completely. Then, you saw him. A boy, he looked to be your age, tanned skin with soft pink scars littering his form, with one large one across his face. He had shaggy sandy blonde hair, almost brown, and the cockiest smirk on his face.
You huffed at him and put your hands on your hips, tilting your head at him. “Not very polite, you know. Watching a lady struggle without even an offer of help.” 
His smirk slowly turned to a dazzling smile. “You want my help? You've been blowing past people who've offered you help this whole time.” He remarked and you scoffed.
“Don't be coy. They weren't exactly being truly helpful. Also, no one here is as,” You gestured to him with both hands. “Vertically gifted as you.” 
He laughed at this and you got another flash of his pearly whites. “That so?”
“I only speak the truth.”
“That I see.”
“So will you?”
“Will I what?”
You scoffed with a scandalized look, gesturing to the album. “Help a damsel in distress?” 
He gave a playful hum and put his hands in his jean pockets, leaning forward a bit in his brown jumper that laid over a mustard yellow button up. “I'm not really the princely type, princess.” He teased and you slowly smirked. “I'm more in line with the monster.” 
“Well, kind monster, would you do your princess the kindness of grabbing her this single?” You hummed and he laughed. “My princess?”
“If you behave.” 
He looked you up and down before he walked over and grabbed the record, looking it over and holding it just out of reach as you tried to snatch it away. “What if I don't?”
You huffed and gave up on trying to swipe it, crossing your arms and biting your cheek. “That's not a very gentlemanly thing to do.”
“I'm not a very gentlemanly person.” He gave you a look that had the alarm bells in your head sounding, but you bit your lip and nodded. “Fine then. What would you like in return, hm?”
“Your name.”
“My name?” You huffed and smiled once more. He nodded with a serious look, but a smile tugged at his lips.
“{Y/N}.” You introduced and held your hand out. “You don't need my last name. You'll never have to call me it.” You remarked and his eyebrows raised in delight. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You mused as he handed you the record. 
“And your name?”
“Remus. Guess I'll skip the last name too. But please, call me Moony.” He remarked and you nodded. 
“Until next time, Moony.”
“Next time, {Y/N}.”
The summer was absolute bliss. You spent it doing all the things your father hated about muggles. Running in fields and jumping in stray bodies of water, going to parties and drinking until you were sick. You kissed muggle boys, went to underground concerts, and even took enchanted pictures for yourself to keep.
Though, you didn't see that record store boy for the rest of the summer. Not from lack of trying, however, going to the store twice a week to try and snag a glimpse of him. Eventually you gave up and went back to your friends.
The next summer, you did see him again. This time, it was a month in, you were out late at a party, and were waiting for the bus to take you to the flat you had bought under a fake muggle name. Well, you say you bought, in reality you had been taking portions of money from your father and pureblood families that wanted your favor, from the start of the school year, saving up enough to be the spoiled girl you were. 
You were standing under a street lamp, leaning against it as you pulled out a packet of cigarettes. You put it to your lips, just as you did, a voice called over to you. “Need a light?”
You turned to face the boy who seemed to sneak up on you in alarm, before you slowly lit up at the sight of him. He seemed puzzled by your expression before recognition covered his features. “Record store princess.”
“Record store monster.” You cheeked and he walked over, leaning down to cover the end of your smoke from the wind, lighting it with a simple flick. You didn't even think about how you didn't hear the usual metallic click of a lighter, instead, a snap. That was how you lit them anyway. 
“Where have you been, pretty boy?” You asked after a long drag, and he watched you breathe the smoke out of your lungs, eyes lingering on your lips. This made you curl them to give him a better view. “Around.”
“Something caught your eye?”
“Someone.” He muttered and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, glancing at the bus station. “I'm heading home, to my flat. Care to make sure your princess gets home safe?” 
He chuckled at the bold offer, rubbing the back of his neck and wetting his lips. There was a pause as he thought about it. “... lead the way.”
That summer was somehow even better than the previous. He spent the night with you, that night, then every single other night. He came and never dreamed of leaving, only gone a handful of days for a few hours at a time for his summer job.
There was this amazing peace, waking up, laying in your stomach, hugging your pillows in your plush massive mess of blankets and pillows, with him. Most of the boys you brought back would be gone in the morning, you preferred it that way, but when you woke up to his arm around your bare back and his nose in the nape of your bruised and bite ridden neck, you couldn't dream of another outcome.
He joked, the second he saw the large canopy bed, about you letting monsters into your private quarters. He seemed to not think so highly of himself, but with every part of your skin he discovered, with every touch and sound he drew from you, he seemed to grow more confident in your situationship. It was dangerous, you knew it, this muggle boy had you wrapped around his finger. Judging by the way he looked at you when you would fall into the clouds of euphoria, he met the same fate.
You had never felt so content, going out and partying, coming home before he did, and spending your nights and afternoons together. With the odd exceptions of a few days out of the months, he was glued to you. Your friends teased you, but for once, you couldn't find it in yourself to be embarrassed. When school came, you had never felt so crushed. You spent the day before lingering in each other's presence without a word. The silence was enough. 
When he brought you to bed, and your skin was pressed to his, his nose to your temple as he whispered sweet words of encouragement and pure infatuation, you were wreathing and gasping in short spouts, you muttered something that drew his rough movements to a stop. You hadn't even realized it, and he noticed how your eyes squished together and you whined with a huff. Fluttering open your eyes, staring up at his knee weakening hazels. He stared at you in silence and you slowly moved to sit up. It clicked to him, you hadn't even realized what you said. You'd never know that those three little words utterly destroyed him. Knowing that tomorrow he would be away from you again. He knew it would be hell.
He huffed and slowly pulled back. He began slowly, taking you in as if he was trying to commit you to memory. Every curve and blemish, every bit of scarred flesh he devoured with an open mouth kiss. You were lost once more to your own ecstasy. 
He wanted to say it back so horribly. 
He wanted you to know he loved you too.
~~~
You spent all of your sixth year waiting for summer, but when it came you dreaded it. Your father told you that you were to move back to London and resume your normal life in preparation for finding you a suitor.
He had promised your mother that he would wait until you were at least 20 to start, but her passing this year it seems he changed his mind. So you returned to business as usual, being enrolled in Hogwarts for your last year of schooling, and being undertaken by the Black’s matriarch, Walaburga, to learn how to be a pureblood witch worth marrying.
Every day she would come to the Gaunt manor, quiz and train you on behaviors and etiquette. You hated those meetings, she was needlessly cruel and fake nice, to the point it was painful for you to watch her try and flatter and build your fathers ego. It made you sick. Soon, but not soon enough, the summer was over and at least you would be at Hogwarts and away from that sour faced woman.
~~
Remus had gone to your flat that summer, he stayed there for a week before he realized you weren't coming home. He hated it. He hated how you didn't tell him where you were, where you were going. There was this silent agreement between the both of you, You never told him where you would be and he never asked, Never exchanged much about your current personal lives, just the past. So if someone was to ask him where you were, he wouldn't have a clue.  You promised him you'd see each other next summer, and that was enough. 
At first his bitterness was winning, he wanted to believe you left without a word because you wanted nothing more than what you were that summer. Deep down, however, he knew. He knew by the way you looked at him in the morning, how you would pull him into the middle of the room in your socks and his shirt, like it was a dress on you, twirling around and slow dancing to that record he got you the first time you met. You always got what you wanted, and Remus knew he was what you wanted. When he left, he set a paper folded up between the door and the wall, a simple but desperate note. He needed you.
So when he got back to Hogwarts, he was a wreck. His friends noticed immediately. When he sat on the train, and looked out the window instead of shoving his nose in a book or teasing the others together.
“Moony, you good man?” James spoke up first after the three shared awkward looks. 
“Yeah dude, you look like a kicked puppy. Or James when Lily isn't looking at him.” Sirius tried to joke, looking through his suitcase before he paused and his eyes widened.
Remus was suddenly filled with dread. “Don't-”
“Let me guess, the cool girl you met last summer didn't show up this time? Told you, muggle girls her age are crazy.” Sirius laughed, not looking up, only to get jabbed harshly in his side with James’ elbow. Sirius hissed and held his side, looking at James with a glare before James flicked his eyes to Remus.
Sirius looked over and saw just how broken up Remus seemed to be about it. He sighed and gave him a pained sympathetic look. Watching as Peter took out a chocolate bar and handed it over to Remus. He muttered a thank you and took it. Sirius sighed and shook his head. “Look, I'm sorry dude. I don't mean it.”
“It's fine.” Remus answered quickly. “I was surprised she even gave me the time of day. I guess I always have that summer. I'll be over it in time, I'm sure she isn't missing me as much, as I'm moping over her, maybe that will help me get over it.”
He tried to believe that. He really did. His words were coming out low, he tried to sound wise but he truly sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. She was all he could think about. From the train, to the carriages, to the Great Hall. Lily saw him and gave him a pout, he had written to her over the summer about what had happened. He wanted her perspective about what had happened, where he could have gone wrong, and out of the thirty he sent her she responded in kind to all of them. She walked up to him, straight past James which left the tall boy to theatrics. 
“Sirius did she just-” James gasped and clenched his chest.
“She did, James, she did.” Sirius walked up behind him with a smirk.
“Does she love me anymore?” He turned to Sirius and the shorter boy snickered.
“I don't think so, Jamie. I'll always love you, though.” Sirius indulged his theatrics and caught James (totally not with a struggle, totally smooth, Sirius is very strong) and James gasped. “You will, won't you, pads?”
“Always, my love.” Sirius declared his affections and James fanned his face like a swooning Victorian debutante. Lily rolled her eyes so hard she swore they would fall from her face. 
She turned back to Remus who gave her a painful smile. “I left her a note like you suggested.”
“Anything?”
“Nothing.” Remus sighed and she nodded carefully. 
“I'm sure there is more to it, Remus. Don't let it consume you.” Lily tried to reassure him and he sighed again, making James and Sirius catch up as they sat down. 
“Yeah, there are a million girls in the world!” Sirius tried to cheer him up and both Lily and James winced at that.
“None of them are like her.” Remus sighed and Sirius gave an owl-like look and then gave a breath of shock. “... Damn Remus, that much, huh?”
He groaned and hit his head on the table. “I just want to sleep.”
“We could always ditch the sorting ceremony.” Lily tried to nudge him, he seemed to smile at her a bit at the offer. 
“Yeah, but then you'll miss a seventh year being sorted.” Peter piped up and the four of them snapped over to look at him. 
“What? Seventh?” She asked as she looked up at the kids in front of the hall, before she bit her tongue. “Right.. that Gaunt girl every Slytherin is losing their mind over?” 
Sirius choked on his pumpkin juice before he quickly cleared his throat as James patted his back. “Woah mate!”
“Her! My mom was tutoring her all summer. Regulus told me. That girl, trying to be the perfect bride or some shit? Just another spoiled pureblood.” Sirius huffed and Lily gave a faint nod. “I hate to agree, but apparently she's the worst.”
“Of course, she's the Slytherin heir.” Sirius huffed. “Apparently she went to Dumstrung, and you know how awful they are.”
“Ah.” Lily mumbled and her eyes landed on you past the crowd, nudging Remus. “There she is. Oh Merlin, spoiled and pretty? Dangerous combination.”
Remus sighed and looked over as you sat on the chair. His entire body froze. “Ahh! {Y/N} Gaunt! Slytherin!” 
The hat didn't hesitate. You had a calm blank expression you were tutored on all summer. Looking across the students, almost bored. You stood up and dusted off your robes, before you froze up at the sound of your name being shouted across the hall.
Remus didn't think. He saw you and shot up from his seat. Lily looked at him, startled, looking between the two before her eyes widened at the name. Oh Merlin. 
Sirius was bewildered, James was stunned, and Peter hid his face away from the crowds of students who turned to look at Remus. He got a variety of different looks from everyone, but there was a running theme. Who do you think you are? Talking to Gaunt.
“{Y/N}.” He called again, firmer. You looked like a deer in headlights. Staring at him in a stunned silence before one of the girls you met on the train tugged at your sleeve. You glanced at her and by the time you looked back, Remus was rushing across the hall to you. No no no no no.
“Fuck.” You hissed and snatched your sleeve from her. You watched as he closed in on you. You felt every hair on your neck stand up. “Fuck fuck.” You whispered.
You panicked. And you ran. He was stunned and froze on the spot. You ran straight out of the hall. Remus cursed and turned to his friends, then to the professors. Lily tried to stand and bring him back to sit down, but as if he was a wild animal, the movement gave him a rush of adrenaline. What did he do? What did this absolute stupid and love sick fool do? 
He ran after you. The entire hall was silent, even the professors stunned before his head of house yelled at him to sit down. He ignored them, turning the corner out of the hall and dashing down the hall he saw you run down.
The hall was quiet for a moment or two, before Lily spoke up. “I'll make it up to you, Professors!” She shouted back before she ran after the two. 
“Me too!” James shouted and followed after her. 
“I will not!” Sirius laughed and ran after them, Peter looking at the shouting professor before she made eye contact with him. Peter slowly sat up and she gave him a warning glance, before he quickly scrambled after his friends. 
McGonagall could only sigh as Dumbledore stifled a laugh into his sleeve.
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oddinary4bts · 1 year ago
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November Sun | jjk
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☆summary: whenever he breaks, the november sun shines on him. and jungkook chases you across the sky - but you've gone some place he can't reach you now.
☆pairing: Jungkook x reader (I genuinely don't think the gender is ever mentioned? please let me know if it is so I can adjust this here), mentions-ish of Namjoon x reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, it deals with heavy themes)
☆genre: grief au/funeral au?, exes au, angst
☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. OC is dead and Jungkook is grieving her. Curses words, very light mentions of sex, flashbacks of moments when jungkook broke. mentions of christianism (the funerals are held in a church), mentions of alcohol, jealousy. Namjoon is a broken man as well
☆word count: 3.7k
☆a/n: I started writing this tonight because I was sad and then just realized I won't have the strength to look back on it ever again so I'm posting it even tho it hasn't been beta-ed, and even tho the person that makes my moodboards is unavailable rn. Idc. It needed to be out of my system, and now it is.
☆a/n pt2: I know this piece is extremely heavy. If you ever need to speak, please reach out to me. My blog is a safe space for every single one of you <3
☆☆☆☆☆
                The church is a tall building. Grand, elegant in its simplicity, though it cuts against the blue sky up above in stark lines, shaped like a prison.
Jungkook thinks life has become a prison a while ago.
It’s a mystery, why your family chose this space for your funeral. You never believed, never practiced. Is it a betrayal to mark your passing in a space that feels so unlike you?
Jungkook thinks it is.
He sighs, chases the heaviness away the same way the clouds chase themselves in the sky up above. He doesn’t know how the sun is shining in the blue expanse of the sky. It’s November, yet the day is warm, the sun is blindingly glowing. It feels like a crime – how can the sun shine in a world deprived of your existence?
Jungkook doesn’t want to know.
Only knows that he’s watched from afar the people that gathered on the front steps. Chatting, heads hung low and shoulders bent forward. He heard sniffles, he heard laughs, and he just waited for everyone to go in to get closer.
Jungkook doesn’t know why he was invited. Why someone from a distant past figured he would need to be here, to share his grief with people that could understand.
Though Jungkook thinks no one can understand.
He remembers you, in all your glory. His first love, when he had been a stupid college kid who didn’t know what he wanted in life. You were two years older, and now... and now one day he’ll be older than you. Because you've stopped aging, you came and went like a moment in time, when he'll still be here for who fucking knows how long.
He chases the thought away with a long inhale, holds the air in knowing that it’s choking him up before he lets it out on a sigh.
You were beautiful. A star that walked the Earth, only to return to the night sky above far too soon. He had loved you dearly, in his own twisted way. Had tried to be what you sought, what you needed, until he had realized he was never going to be enough.
Would you still be alive today, if he had fought harder?
*****
                “I’m not doing this,” you said. “I’m so fucking done with your indecision, with your fear of commitment.”
Jungkook scoffed. “Please, you graduated and now you think you’re so high above me. Get down from the fucking horse, Y/n, it’s not going to bring us anywhere.”
He’d said the words hoping that they would hurt you. And they did: he saw you physically recoil as if he’d punched you. As if the words had been a physical blow, and not just letters of the alphabets shaped into words and sound, into arrows to pierce that beautiful soul of yours.
“Maybe I don’t want us to go somewhere anymore,” you replied after a quiet moment of breaking hearts.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“I know.” You sighed, slightly shaking your head as your eyes fell to the floor between you and him. “I know, but I mean it.”
“Please,” was all Jungkook thought to reply.
“You say please all the time,” you told him. “You beg me, and for what? We always circle back to fighting, to hurting each other.” You paused, and though you were avoiding his features he could see you blinking back tears. “Maybe we aren’t supposed to be together at all.”
“Don’t say that,” Jungkook warned. “Don’t you fucking say that. I love you. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“I love you too, Jungkook,” you answered. “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you at that stupid party last year.”
Jungkook felt the tear rolling down his cheek, felt the gravity pulling on his heart until it was shattering on the ground.
“Then why stop now?” he asked. “Give me time, Y/n. I’ll graduate, and I’ll be able to move in with you, and to provide for you and give you everything that you need.”
You sighed heavily, finding courage to finally meet his gaze. At the stark finality shining behind your pupils, Jungkook’s knees weakened. His whole fucking body weakened, ready for the blow.
For the end that was coming for you and him like a car barreling down a dead-end street.
“But I’m tired of waiting,” you answered. “I don’t want to spend my life waiting around for someone.”
“I’m still in college, I just can’t move in with you right now…”
“I know, Jungkook. I know.”
He wanted to fight. Wanted to tell you to stay in his dorm tonight, and to never leave again. But he could tell that you were already gone.
So he steeled himself. Readied himself to let you go even though you were the blood in his veins.
“I’m holding you back, aren’t I?”
You wiped a tear on your cheek, blurring behind those in his gaze. “You are.”
He choked on a sob, hiding his eyes behind his hand as if that would stop the breaking. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “We just aren’t at the same place in life anymore.”
An empty silence surrounded you, so loud Jungkook could hear every beat of his heart in his ears, could feel the walls pressing in.
“I don’t want you to go,” he softly said.
“I know,” you murmured. “I…” You choked on a sob, and it took you a moment before you managed to continue. “I’m sorry.”
He laughed, a sound so devoid of joy he wondered if he’d ever feel happiness again. “Please don’t be. You’re allowed to want more.”
“I wish I didn’t.”
Anger rose up on the horizon of Jungkook’s conscience, and he pushed it away. He refused to be angry at you, refused to put the blame on you when you made it clear that you wanted him to move in so long ago, and he disregarded it without even once thinking about it.
“I’ll find you again,” he promised, voice strained and heavy with emotion. “I’ll graduate and find you.”
You stepped closer to him, gently cupping his cheek. “Go find someone that loves you for what you are, Jungkook.”
“And you don’t?”
“I don’t want you to settle for someone that asks too much for you,” you explained, renewed silver lining your eyes. “Find someone that loves you for who you are, right now.”
“Fuck that,” he choked out, and he pulled you flush against his chest. “Fuck this nonsense. ”
“I’m so sorry,” you cried against him.
“Don’t be,” he reassured you, though he was crying too. “Don’t be. Give me a few years. I’ll have it all figured out in a few years.”
*****
                The priest at the front of the church is going on and on about something that Jungkook doesn’t care to listen to. It’s impersonal, nothing like you, like the vibrant girl he remembers. So he lets his memory guide him to you, where you’re awaiting him. Your lips on his, your hand running through his hair. Your own hair catching in the wind that time you’d gone hiking, and he’d believed being at the top of the mountain with you felt like he had won in life.
Or that time you’d driven on the coast, windows down, screaming the lyrics to a song he can’t listen to anymore. Now the song is haunted by ghosts of a past he never learned to let go, perhaps because for months after the breakup he’d kept the conviction that he’d find his way back to you. He’d believed it the same way he believed the sun would always rise in the morning. A simple truth of nature, that nothing could ever break.
Except a car accident, apparently. Because all it took was a car accident to wipe you off the surface of the Earth, to take your light and shove it into shadows, into darkness and a void so wide he knows he’ll never find you again.
But he’d believed he’d find his way back to you. Never let anyone in after you, for the months and years it took him to graduate because he always knew he’d find his way back to you. You were his silver lining, the finish line at the end of the race. On a November day, just as sunny as today, Jungkook reached that finish line.
He did find you again, only you never knew.
*****
                Jungkook had never felt so light before. Like he had grown wings, like he was soaring in the clouds up above. Though the sun was out, the weather was cold, wind running cold fingers through the lapels of his coat until he found himself shivering as he made his way to the flower store.
He’d get the biggest bouquet for you, and then he’d head to where he knew from a common friend that you lived now. It was Saturday, and he hoped to catch you unaware, to catch you in the middle of cleaning your apartment the same way that you cleaned it back when you were dating.
The image of you, with your hair pulled back in a high ponytail as you danced around instead of sweeping the floor shone in his mind, brighter than the star in the sky above.
He bought the flowers, heart beating fast in his chest. Because it was time. It was finally time to go home, to tell you that he did everything he said he would, that he changed and now had a job that could support what you both wanted. He wanted to ask you out, and in his dreams you had been answering yes every single time since he had decided to go see you.
His heart fluttered as he gently rested the flowers on his passenger seat, careful not to damage them. Memories floated to him, and a smile grew on his lips as he remembered you, screaming out the window that day you had driven along the coast. You had stopped to watch the sunset in the waves, and he’d kissed you stupid on his back seat until every single inch of your skin knew about his love.
He couldn’t wait to create new memories with you.
He drove carefully, enjoying the warmth of the sun now that he was safely hidden from the wind. You actually didn’t live too far from where he did now, and soon enough he parked his car near your building. He got out of the vehicle, almost running to the other side in his excitement to grab the bouquet on the passenger seat. When it was safely tucked in his hand, Jungkook shut the car door, locked it, and started walking to your building.
He didn’t even know which apartment was yours. He believed fate would guide him, and so he crossed the street to your building, trusting the universe for what was to come next.
He heard your laugh before he saw you. Love swelled in his chest, and he wondered if you were laughing because you’d seen him, because you’d known that he’d come back for you.
And then he saw you. The wind was ruffling your hair, which he assumed had prompted the laugh. Your eyes were closed, hands struggling to push the wild strands behind your ears.
You were more beautiful than he remembered. Shone brighter, with the same stuff that stars consisted of. He was struck for a moment, watching you with his bouquet hoping that you’d open your eyes and see him.
The world slowed down to a stop, and time halted, and Jungkook watched you, feeling at home for the first time in years.
The illusion fractured the instant someone else came into view, making him realize that you hadn’t been laughing at the wind. No, perhaps your laughter took root in the dimples gracing the man’s cheeks as he smiled at you, as he pecked your forehead before grabbing your hand.
Jungkook ducked behind a car, clutching the flower bouquet like a lifeline the moment that you turned towards him. Did you hear his heart breaking? Did you hear the mockery in the November sun rays – you’d broken up on a similar day, years ago.
Jungkook couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think around the shattering of his heart, around the blood turning to ice in his veins as he heard you speak to the man – Namjoon, he heard you call him.
He would have rather not known the name.
Still Jungkook drank in the sound of your voice, trying to shape it into the words he was so willing to hear you say today. It didn’t work, and soon enough your voice disappeared, leaving him in a deafening silence of wind and sun and the realization that after all, he had come back too late.
Perhaps he should have known that he'd be too late.
*****
                When Jungkook received the call last week, he’d sat outside in the silence until he thought his eardrums would start bleeding. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed, hadn’t done anything other than to stare at the fading light of the sun.
He wonders, why is it that whenever he breaks, November sun is shining high above? As if the universe takes pleasure in his torment, in undoing him until he barely counts as a human being anymore.
He got pissed out drunk that night. Last time he had been as drunk was when he had found out you were dating someone new, that day he had come to find you.
And now he wonders, if he had approached you that day, would you still be dead today? Would life still have put you on that road with its drunk driver so that you could meet your end?
Or would you be laughing at some dumb comment he’d make, telling him that he’s stupid with eyes so full of love he wouldn’t be able to do anything else but agree with you?
It’s hard to tell. So, he doesn’t try to figure it out – he has an eternity ahead of himself to figure out how to live without you anyway.
Maybe in all his misfortune Jungkook actually had some luck. He’s learned to grieve you a while ago already, and perhaps grieving someone that still lives is harder than grieving someone that’s passed. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows anything. Just that, so far back in the past he should have said fuck it and move in with you. It was such a simple request, but he had been too young and dumb, and he’d forever live with the regrets of it.
If someone from your family notices his presence at the funeral, recognizes him from your shared past, they don’t say. Especially not as the end of the ceremony comes before he’s had a chance to really take in the picture of you, smiling, over there next to the urn with your ashes.
You’re ashes now. Everything that made you – your laugh, your smile, the way you carried yourself with that simple elegance – all of it is gone to be replaced with mere ashes.
He doubts they can hold the truth of your essence, but then again he doesn’t think anything can, or anything ever will again.
He blinks away the tears as they come, leaving the ceremony like a whisper in the wind. He doesn’t want to speak to your family, doesn’t want to see them coddling the man that you loved, that survived the accident when he should have been the one to go.
Jealousy and selfishness are ugly, Jungkook realizes. But it’s easier to hate the man that took you away from him, no matter how unknowingly he did it.
And Jungkook tried to hate you once. He tried hard, in the months after that fated November day, when you’d laughed to that man’s joke, smiled when he’d smiled that soft dimpled smile of his. He had tried, because hating you felt like it was the only way he wouldn’t hurt. But he still hurt – he still hurts.
All he’s been able to do in his life since you broke up is hurt, and he highly doubts he’ll ever feel differently again.
Perhaps he’ll grow numb. Perhaps he should have grown numb a while ago.
At least that’s what he’s telling himself days later, when he’s looking at the tombstone they picked out for you. The finality of your name and the dates, the ending, is unnerving. He wishes it was fake, wishes it was a joke, and that he didn’t spend most of his life loving someone that moved on to a new love in just a few years.
It’s been over a decade and he hasn’t moved on even a little bit.
He kicks the ground, mad at the leaves littering the ground where you’re buried, as if they’re sullying you. And as if laughing at him, sun rays pierce through the clouds up above, that dreaded November sun making an appearance when it should stay gone.
He allows himself to cry. To break down, to sit on the ground and curse everything and everyone that’s ever been between you and him. He curses his stupidity, curses the sun and the leaves and the etchings on the stone. He hates everything. Hates himself, hates you, hates the whole fucking universe for taking you away, for not giving him the chance to be with you.
That’s how Namjoon finds him. Jungkook’s tears have receded, and he’s just sitting there, an empty shell that once held love and laughter and your lips on his. He hears the scuffle of Namjoon’s steps, of his cane as he walks up the path.
The man’s features are grave when Jungkook can’t help but glance towards him, sees him ambling up the path with that cane, the only indication that he too was in that car accident. And Jungkook wonders if Namjoon knows about him. If Namjoon knows that he wasn’t the first man whose love for you was a bottomless ocean, one Jungkook has drowned in time and time again since you broke up.
Namjoon remains standing, and Jungkook remains sitting. Like there’s an understanding between them, and silence conveys more than words could. Jungkook doesn’t want to move, and Namjoon clearly doesn’t have anywhere to go.
Jungkook thinks the Earth has revolved around the sun at least once before Namjoon scrapes his throat.
“It’s hard to believe that she’s gone, isn’t it?” he speaks, deep voice carrying the weight of the universe.
Jungkook doesn’t deign reply as his eyes fill with tears, though he refuses to let them out right now.
Especially not in front of the man you loved after him.
“You’re Jungkook, aren’t you?”
The simple sentence makes Jungkook lose it. He hides his face in his hands, his whole soul bleeding out under the November sun.
“She told me about you,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook is convinced he hears pain, tears and grief laced with Namjoon’s words.
What did you tell him, Jungkook wonders? Did you tell Namjoon that you should have waited for Jungkook, that you should have given him a chance to become what you needed?
“She loved you a lot,” Namjoon adds after a silence, and he chokes on a sob. “She never forgot about you.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Jungkook asks with that broken voice, raspy with disuse.
He hasn’t been able to speak since you died.
“You deserve to grieve. She loved and loved, and I wish it would have been enough for her to live…”
“Stop,” Jungkook begs. “Please.”
Namjoon falls silent, offering salvation to Jungkook, though Jungkook doesn’t know if he deserves it.
Would he have been able to offer salvation to someone in his position if the situation was reversed? He highly doubts it.
“It’s just…” he trails off when he finds words again. “You got fucking years with her. You got years of loving and-“ it breaks on a sob. “And you were fucking engaged.” Jungkook pulls at his hair. “You were engaged, and all I got was months. Not even a full year.”
“I’m sorry man,” Namjoon answers, voice so broken Jungkook wonders who’s suffering the most.
He doesn’t think it’s himself.
“Was she happy?” Jungkook eventually asks, once he can’t stand the silence hanging around. Once he can’t stand the etchings on the stone, the void in the universe that used to be filled with you.
“I made her as happy as I could,” Namjoon replies truthfully, his voice strained but not as pained anymore. As if he’s reached a conclusion, clarity filling his mind.
Not needing to hear more, Jungkook gets up, dusting himself off.
“Good talk,” he says, fighting against the next onslaught of tears, and then he’s storming off.
Storming away from you, from everything that you meant to him. And maybe the sun rays really are mocking him in that beautiful November sky, because Namjoon says, “I don’t think she ever truly was happy after you, though.”
Jungkook stops, convinced someone just stabbed him right in the heart. He doesn’t think the organ can beat anymore, doesn’t think he can live anymore. He just wants to be dust on the wind, to be forgotten, and to stop fucking feeling all the time.
“She was calling off the engagement,” Namjoon continues. “She…” Jungkook turns, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen such agony as the one that graces Namjoon’s features right now. “She said she shouldn’t get married to me when she still loved another.”
Clouds pass in front of the November sun, and Jungkook remembers the smile on your face whenever you’d catch his gaze. He remembers the way you’d lovingly cupped his cheek even when you were breaking up with him. He still feels the ghost of your fingers on his skin as he holds Namjoon’s broken gaze.
He holds Namjoon’s broken gaze, unable to offer the man salvation. It might make him a monster, might make him selfish and jealous and everything that he finds disgusting about humanity. But Jungkook doesn’t care.
Not when he realizes that perhaps, perhaps he’s the one that you’re waiting for on the other side of the veil, so that you can rest in the eternity of afterlife together.
And perhaps, perhaps there’s some sort of beauty in the thought.
☆☆☆☆☆
I am crying and in pain and I am sending everyone that read this whole thing lots of love and if you need to talk just hit me up bc grief is a bitch and we hate her and I just wish I could take everyone's grief away
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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blue-sadie · 1 year ago
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A Date of Destiny
Lo'ak, Neteyam, Jake x Avatar Reader
How he asked you out
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Lo'ak
You were well known around the village for being lo'aks partner and crime and it was surprising to most when he started avoiding you to spend more time with kiri and your dad and it kinda hurt you to say the last not even a glance or explanation just radio silence what even hurt more is that your birthday was coming up and you were planning to spend it with him but guess that plan was thrown out the window so you just spent time around the lab and in your room avoiding all human and na'vi contact.
The morning of your birthday you woke up pretty late and didn't really see a sense to get up because you didn't have any plans till you noticed a letter with a flower attached to it slide underneath your door so you went over opening up your door looking left and right but whoever left the letter was long gone so you shrugged before picking up the letter and reading it.
Dear Yn
Happy birthday and I'm so sorry I've been ignoring you these past few weeks I've been trying to figure something out and I finally realized what it was I needed I need you more then a friend I've had this feeling for a long time but didn't have the courage to tell you so I talked to kiri and your dad who said this is the way to do it so I've taken writing classes to do this and if you accept my feelings I'll be waiting by our usual spot.
When you got to your usual spot it was decorated and full of color and in the middle stood lo'ak holding a beautiful flower and one of your favorite snacks "will you be my girlfriend" he asked stepping forward "of course I will".
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Neteyam
You and neteyam have been friends since birth and grew up together but things have become a bit rocky with his training and he always seemed to be a bit irritated so you took a step back and didn't hang around him that much and more with the younger sullys.
Over the days he slowly started hanging around you more and more slowly starting to get back to normal but he told you about his upcoming hunt"you'll be gone for 3 weeks" you murmured it wasn't such a bad thing but things were going great and you didn't want to have to start over.
"Yn when you ignored me I realized two things, the first thing I realized is that I love you and wish to have you as mine, the second is that I'm terrified I'm gonna lose you to another man" he clasped your hands in his as he pulled you close.
"I need you to be mine" and with that he silently used one of hands to pull a beautiful piece of jewelry out of his pocket and had it to you it had your favorite stone in the middle and it gleamed in the light "so will you be mi-" you cut him off with a kiss.
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Jake
You and jake came to pandora together and learned about the na'vi together and fought for the freedom of pandora and once the war was over, you two finally become one of the people and get to choose a mate, neytiri and jake were close so you left him alone even though it hurt it just how it is or so you thought.
You and tsu'tey hung out a bit but it was completely platonical he saw you as a sister and you see him as a over protective brother "come on tsutsu" you laughed loudly as he just gave you playful glare "no I cannot tell you where we are going" as he led you through the forest but as soon as you passed through the bush your breath was taken away.
It was a beautiful scene with glow in the dark plants illuminating the tall trees and leading up to jake who stood proudly at the end when you turned to tsu'tey but he was gone "motherfucker" you muttered before going to join your friend "hey jake" you smiled as your eyes shined in the dark "what do you need" you asked staring up at him his skin still hold light traces of his war paint.
"Yn for the longest time I've know you, your a loving and caring person who always puts yourself last and other people first even if they strangers" he paused moving closer to you so you were just inches apart "your an amazing person I've always known that and I finally realized something" "and that is" you asked your heart flattering as he leaned down "I need you as mine".
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shanieveh · 1 year ago
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HE WAS SUNSHINE, I WAS MIDNIGHT RAIN...
scaramouche x gn!reader smau
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you put down your phone and jammed on your earphones that sounded like nostalgic memories. Songs you associated with the people you first shared them with, people who already leave or you left. You didn't choose to go, but what can you really do when time is always against your side.
It's no exception for him. but this one hit all the much harder. You had your confession letter that responded to his wonderful one you made just yesterday night. It was an 8 page long essay of how you loved him too. But you can't dare give him that, not when there's no chance.
Letters are meant to haunt people in their dreams. It reminds us of what has passed and the present we are currently facing. You argued very much about this request to move out of town. For years, you fought and fought, but you knew that young fools like you can never win against the elders. It is but a joke of the unfair reality.
And so you have accepted your fate, there is no need for closure over the past. But maybe if you were given a chance to love him, you would do it. Right, this time.
And so with that letter you planned to give him, it was now but yours to keep. Yours to be haunted every night. And perhaps you deserve it a little bit, you should've communicated.
or maybe...
He should've understood.
You should've said your thoughts.
He should've cared about your stance.
Your mind always finds a way to blame you, and always find a way to blame him. But none of that matter when the ties are cut and the flame went out. You thought of chatting him online or somewhat, but it can never be the same as before. The minute he confessed, there was no turning back.
The same touch, the same feelings, the same scaramouche. Perhaps maybe he would respond and you'll talk but it was far from it. He's already blaming you for everything, he already hates you. And he deserved much better than someone who can't even see his face. He maybe even despises you.
He had every right to do so. No matter the pleasantries or forced acceptances, time will past and he'll grow to hate you. But you'll never grow to accept that.
And with that you look on the road as a new view appears, one that you are unfamiliar with. First love hurts so much, especially when you break the better man's heart.
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BACK TO DECEMBER—masterpost || flashback 2
SUMMARY: you were childhood bestfriends with scaramouche, and with many unanswered confessions and one sided goodbyes, you both meet again, but now he wears a cold glance even turning agressive when his eyes wander yours, and it all came down the day he became the top of your class, beating you and rejoicing in success. his smile was because of your pain. maybe you could turn back time where promises actually never broke, and love was a beautiful thing.
TAGLIST: @yukiipc @wanderchive @user11918163805279 @gekkow @moon-320 @meowmeowmau @mine-lu @sunaaa
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aru-loves-krishnaxarjuna · 5 months ago
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KaJu
Pt.2 -> Masterlist
A day before the departure, Arjuna recieved an unusual parcel, or rather, a gift. From the one and only Vasudev Krishna. That boy was older than him by two years, and was from the royal family of the oligarchy kingdom, Dwarka.
Arjuna opened the box, and saw atypical but adorable blue stones, along with a small letter and a peacock feather.
Hope you like the small gift, Parth!
—Vasudev Krishna
'Why did he send only me a cute yet unusual gift like this? Because none of my Bhrata have got one. And Parth? Is he referring to me? Either way, i really love the name!' Arjuna thought as he kept away the stones in a part of his dhoti, and rummaged through the seven-tiered Chakravyuha formation.
"Arju?" Came Bheem's voice. Arjuna perked up as he jumped on the twenty-one year old lad, who caught him and twirled him in the air ruffling his younger brother's hairs.
"Bhrata Bheem!" Exclaimed Arjuna cheerfully. "Let me guess, you want to eat sweets together with all our brothers and discuss plans about the war tomorrow, right?" Bheem pulled Arjuna by the shoulder and grinned wide. "You guessed right! Now come on!" Vrikodar pulled Phalgun along, who just laughed.
"Yesterday was impressive! You fought sooo well!" Nakul said excitedly.
"I think we should get to serious topics now, Nakul. We have to go to war tomorrow." Said Yudhishthir, being his usual serious self. "As me and the others were discussing, you would have to lead us in the war, Phalgun."
"I agree. Because Panchal Raj is most likely to use that formation. We will clear the way for you." Sahadev added, with a gentle smile.
_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–
It was a pretty windy day. It was still dark outside as he made his way to the stables to see his white pet horse. Arjuna had received him as a present just a few months ago; since he was a young warrior now, he could have a horse of his own. He had named him Vikramaditya — a rather fancy name for a horse. Vikram for short. Arjuna was really fond of him, and stroked and cuddled the animal as he drank water from his tub. As he headed towards the main halls, he heard raised voices coming clearly from a distance. Outside, in the main yard, Duryodhan was up bright and early before sunrise, having a full-blown argument with Drona, as many people looked on.
"But that is unfair, Acharya!"
"I am having none of it! He can not come!"
"But it will be much easier if he goes with us!"
"Then it means that you are not confident in your own skills!"
It was then that Arjuna noticed Karna standing beside Duryodhan, head lowered, jaw tightened in anger and shame. Drona hadn't initially recognised him at the ceremony, since they'd met after several years, but had known who he was the minute he'd introduced himself. Moments later, the argument was interrupted by Shakuni, who bowed before Drona. He already seemed to have something up his sleeve, like he always did.
"Respected Guru", he drawled, "Allow me to explain, if you please." He shoved Duryodhan aside and stepped in front of Drona. "I understand you do not wish to take along a man who isn't your pupil, but I assure you! You can most certainly take him along without letting him participate! You and your son are going as well, but neither of you are fighting. Similarly, you may take Angaraj with you. Let him stay back, but remember, Drupad is tough to defeat. Just in case your pupils find themselves in peril, you may send the King of Anga to their aid in an emergency. Not only would this benefit you, but also ensure that you have a second plan if your first one goes awry."
Drona hesitated. Shakuni had a point. After thinking for a few moments more, he relented. "Alright. He can come. But mind you, young man", he pointed a finger at Karna. "You can only join the battle of I order you to do so." Duryodhan and Karna nodded, looking pleased and relieved.
"What's going on?" said a boisterous voice behind Arjuna. He turned to see Bheem with Yudhishthir.
"King Karna of Anga will be joining us too." In response, Bheem scoffed and rolled his eyes. None of Arjuna's brothers took well to Karna, given that he was clearly on Duryodhan's side anyways.
As the princes arrived slowly and stood in front of their teacher, Drona addressed them. "Today is the day of the first battle of your lives. I want you all to do well. But be warned, Drupad is not an easy man to defeat, for he has the same knowledge of and training in warfare that I have imparted to all of you. It is my goal to defeat him with some of the greatest young warriors whom I have taught myself. If any of you are still a bit apprehensive about this, you are free to opt out of the Gurudakshina. Of those who choose to participate, I have faith you will not let me down."
Arjuna felt even more emboldened than before. He bit his lip, struggling to control the excitement from showing on his face. He would do it. They bade goodbye to the elders and set off. Panchal was not very far from Hastinapur, it was a journey of about nine hours on horseback and in chariot-cars. Since they had left in the early morning, they arrived in the middle of the afternoon. Panchal was comparatively smaller than Hastinapur but was blessed with picturesque landscapes worthy of portraits - sparkling lakes, long stretches of deep green meadows and rolling hills.
Without warning, the party marched into the capital of Kampilya. The citizens gathered on the street sides in astonishment and confusion, many shouted and ran out of their homes to watch what was happening. Drona and his pupils headed straight to the palace, and as they approached the gates, he addressed the royal guards in a booming voice:
"Hear, hear, guards of this gate! I hereby command you to call upon your Maharaj at this very moment! Tell him that his old friend, Drona, has finally come to fulfil his part of the bet!"
The guards had no time to protest: seeing a host of over a hundred young warriors all wielding various weapons sent them into a frenzy. They rushed inside at once, yelling out and within minutes, Drupad had come outside, a large army of soldiers in his wake.
Drona ordered the Pandavas, Karna and Ashwatthama to stand back, and sent the Kauravas inside first. All hundred and one brothers ran in like a stream of wild bulls, charging straight at Drupad, who stood back as his soldiers ran at the princes. Chaos ensued. Maces slammed into each other, arrows were shot from all ends, fearsome spears were thrown with great force and swords clashed all around. The fight continued for around twenty minutes. Karna waited eagerly, his bow ready, hoping he would be called, but Drona stood just as resolutely in front of him, watching the scene unfold.
The Pandavas and Ashwatthama stood to one side far from the huge gates, Arjuna and Ashwatthama gossiping like the old friends they were, with Nakul adding his two cents here and there between their conversation.
"Now is not the time to be talking or gossiping, Phalgun." Came Jyesht's voice, in response of which he gave a whine. "Why are you always ruining the fun!?"
The others nodded their heads and crossed their arms as Yudhishthir sweatdropped.
Drona turned to the Pandavas. "It is your turn now, Panduputro. Go." The five hadn't noticed when their literal hunded cousins came back; Duryodhan and Dushasan were the last ones to return, panting and out of breath. They were both a mess; Dushasan had a gash on his thigh and several bruises over his face; Duryodhan’s hair had become terribly untidy and dusty from having fallen several times, and he looked like he’d had the wind knocked out of him.
Bheem would have laughed at them if it wasn't for the serious matter ahead of him and his brothers. They all nodded and the five proceeded towards the gate as Drupad yelled something imperceptible at Drona again. As per the plan, Yudhishthir stayed at the gate, blocking it with his chariot; the twins stood far out on either side of him, preparing to jump on anyone who tried to attack their eldest brother or their teacher. Meanwhile, Bheem ran straight inside towards the army, clearing the path for Arjuna, who entered in his wake on Vikram. Bheem alone was enough to take a little over half of the army; he charged with full force, his mighty mace thrashing anyone who tried to stop him. Meanwhile, Arjuna started his work of breaking the Chakravyuha, while his brothers worked together to defeat all soldiers.
Arjuna repeatedly shot arrows that multiplied into hundreds at once, thus easily fending off the other half of the army. The seventeen year old rode with his head low; whenever his horse began to show signs of panic, he would rub his neck comfortingly, leading him in various directions away from any oncoming soldiers before turning round and shooting at them with impeccable aim.
Arjuna was almost near the center but that was when he saw the Panchal Raj outside the Chakravyuha. He was about to break the last layer and go but was stopped by a shout. "Return to your teacher, you insolent boy! Your Guru is as pathetic as he always was, using his students to fight this battle with me! What else can one expect from a coward? Return, I tell you! Or else you shall meet the same fate as the hundred who came before you!"
Arjuna felt his temper rising at hearing his teacher being insulted this way. He was now more determined than ever to successfully complete this task. He shot arrows at Drupad, who shot back immediately. They collided and fell lifeless to the cracked, sun-scorched earth.
As the fight continued however, many of Drupad's army personnel were left in awe as they looked on; they weren't going to intervene when their King was fighting another warrior; but what had surprised them was that, despite having a positional advantage of standing up high on an elephant (compared to the Rajkumar on the ground), their King was slowly but surely losing the fight.
No one could tell the small gap of a few seconds between Arjuna taking out arrows from his quiver and him finally releasing them. His movements were nimble, agile, skilful. At one point, Arjuna shot an arrow that grazed Drupad's shoulder. The force of it caused Drupad to lose his balance and fall off the elephant.
The former jumped off his horse and ran towards him. Now was his chance to trap Drupad. However, there was a flash of light and the next moment, there were five identical men standing in front of him. Arjuna's mouth fell slightly open. Drupad had used a spell of which he had no knowledge of, one that could create illusions of himself. The five Drupads all looked at him, each with a smug expression on his face, inviting him to capture one of them. There was no way he could tell the real Drupad apart.
And suddenly as one of the Drupad's slashed st him, he dodged at the last minute but the stone he had kept had fallen down.
Five pairs of eyes. The eyes. The eyes on the bluish pebbles…
And then it struck him. It was so sudden that for a moment he thought it was madness to believe it. But could it be? There was a tiny chance it was true. He stole a glance at the eyes of each Drupad. The man on the far left end was looking straight at the man to his own left. The three men from the right were also looking at the man to their right. All as if trying to imitate him. The man in question was staring right at Arjuna.
Then he knew. In a flash, he shot an arrow at the man standing second from the left. It transformed into ropes, which bound themselves around Drupad. The king let out a yell of surprise and stumbled backwards, as the remaining four illusions disappeared. Arjuna too let out an exclamation of triumph, "So there you are!" He couldn’t help but laugh. "You should have instructed your impostors not to make it so obvious that they were trying to copy you."
When Drupad was brought before Drona, he was fuming, humiliated at being defeated by a young boy. Drona was beaming yet again, both at Drupad's defeat and at his favourite student. The teacher and the king began a heated discussion, in which Drona agreed to let Drupad go if the latter gave him half his kingdom (as he had apparently promised to do several years ago before going back on his word). The raging king had to give in in order to be set free.
The Kauravas were sullen and grumpy at their inability to perform well, and at being outshined by their five cousins once again. Karna was dejected as he hadn't had a chance to take part, uet couldn't help but admire the younger archer. Bheem was elated as Drona praised him for his might and strength. Arjuna, Yudhishthir, Nakul and Sahadev each received hugs from Drona for their persistence and endeavours.
Though he was certainly happy at having successfully completed the Gurudakshina task, Arjuna's mind was far from praise and glory at the moment.
All he could think about were the five pebbles Krishna had sent him.
┏━━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━━┓
❍               ❍                ❍
┗━━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━━┛
Yudhishthir was crowned Yuvraj and Duryodhan wasn't able to swallow it down his evil throat. And that was again when Shakuni jumped in. They had planned about how they were going to burn the Pandavas alive and even convinced Raaj Maata Kunti, and Karna, still harboring Dharma in his mind, didn't take well to it. He excused himself. "Mitra, I am going to take some fresh air outside. I- I will meet up with you later on." And walked away without even waiting for Duryodhan's response.
As he walked down the corridors, Karna saw lotuses floating on the water of the fountains and remembered the Raaj Maata's face. He smiled as he took one and peoceeded towards the Queen Mother's room as it was the last time he would see her again.
Arjuna was the first one to arrive at his Kunti Maa's room, jumping all his way excitedly like the adorable child he was, because she had called them to talk and discuss about going to Varnavrat. As he reached outside door of her kaksh, he didn't notice Angaraj Karna behind him because he was coming from the other way and was almost there when they both heard voices and their conversation and it shocked them to the core.
Some lines have been taken from SuaveBlackSwan's book 'Mahabharata — a retelling' as well as inspired from my pyaari si Jiji @bharatiya-naari-sab-pe-bhaari :)
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hcdragonwrites · 1 year ago
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Letters (a @journey-to-the-au Drabble)
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I made another thing (yeah I couldn’t help myself but this one is shorter I think. I hope you like it!) I just. Brain fire.
Inspired by <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/journey-to-the-au/722003448742248448/may-we-hear-about-the-yaogui-attack-0-apologies" >This Post </a>
(Also I suck at linking things I’m so sorry.)
Liu crossed out the line on the parchment before him, splashing ink onto the stone beneath his feet in an frustrated spray.
“No that doesn’t sound right either!” He gritted his teeth, growing frustrated. General Liu, one of the Four great Generals of Flower- Fruit mountain and friend to its King Sun Wukong, had a dilemma.
He set the brush down, still getting used to holding it in his hands. Wukong makes this look so easy! But things of the unmonkey nature came easily to Wukong- how could they not ? He had mastered the mysterious arts that had given him such power, had defeated the demon who had first claimed Water- Curtain Cave in his absence (and more beside.) Wukong had walked among the men of the world and had claimed treasure from dragons.
Wukong would be able to hold a brush with ease and write words with a steady hand. The general tugged at his fur and looked about himself. Rolls of parchment lay about him like discarded rinds of watermelons. All the failed attempts to transcribe what his heart was trying to speak. He tugged more, hairs coming free.
When Wukong spoke of his experience in the world abroad their mountain, he had mentioned how the important people within that strange world of mortals and immortals would communicate through scrolls and parchment.
“It was too quiet at times for my liking!” He reminisced once, splashing some wine as he gesticulated upon his throne. “What silence! What needed to be written that couldn’t be communicated with a clear voice?” He would then call for one of the troop of his subjects to retell a story, for Wukong loved the telling of a yarn through voice and act.
Liu had understood why one would want words written down however. The things he wanted to say- to tell- either fled him like mist before the sun or stuck in his throat like a peach stone. The Marshal scratched behind his ear, brushing the notched edge and remembering. Remembering her.
Rin Rin.
Liu had never been one for such deep hesitation as he was now. In all the Aolai country, among and betwixt the unicorns and the phoenixes who preened and called themselves the most beautiful, where the leopards and the tigers roamed and boasted their own majesty, Liu had faced all that threatened his home with bravery. He loved this mountain, from every blade of grass to every luminous stone deep in Water-Curtain Cave. He thought none of the beasts or birds or celestial bodies in Heaven was more beautiful than his home.
Except Her.
He wanted to tell her. Tell Rin Rin how she rivaled all the clouds in heaven for her softness. How no flower could compare to her eyes and how they shined like the sea when the sun hit it. Her smile could make the trees cry and her anger could chase the stripes off a tiger.
Liu was afraid. Not afraid of her. Afraid to miss this opportunity! His tail lashed and sent a bit of paper skittering over the stone floor, knocking into several stone bowls of almonds.
The mountain was a paradise. The waterfall that crashed beyond, the pine forests that dotted the slopes where their needles spiced the air. He had faced tigers and demons, fought and thrown himself into situation after situation of danger without a second thought for himself.
Now he was hesitant. He acted as he had on that day Wukong had found Water- Curtain cave: hesitant. Marshal Liu had not been hesitant since that time- so why had he returned to this state ?
Liu looked down at the paper and groaned.
“I just want to tell her how beautiful she is…”
Steps approached from outside Liu’s room.
“So this is where you’ve been!” Wukong called, stepping into the room with a frown on his face. “I have been waiting for you in the Throne room for hours! Sentries have spotted what look to be the makings of a camp. We have a troop of creatures lurking in the shadow of our mountain and I need my Generals— what is all this stuff ?”
Liu didn’t bother to cover up his failings- he just lay his head on the stone table and glared at the brush.
“You only called for a meeting a few minutes ago, my king.” He replied from the table.
“Minutes- hours. It has been too long! What have you been up to in here?”Wukong picked up a paper scroll, the feathered crown on his head bobbing.
“You are as pretty as a … hmm. You never finished this one Liu!”
Liu moved his face to flatten into the stone table, feeling his cheeks burn and his ears itch. Of course my king would start reading them.
Shuffling paper noises sounded again as Wukong picked another scroll up.
“My heart becomes a candle when you are near—“ he frowned. “You crossed out the rest in a mess of black.”
Liu wished he could dissolve into the stone.
“You smell as sweet as a magnolia flower- your eyes are the shape of stars —“
“Please My King.” He begged. “Spare me.”
“You wrote them Liu! I am only reading.”
“And I ask for mercy, please.”
“Seems you’ve had trouble finishing whatever you were trying to say.” Mused the Sage.
“None of the words formed well enough on the paper.” Marshal Liu sighed. There came a shuffle and a brush beside him. He lifted his head to see Wukong had crossed his legs beside him, a shoulder companionably against Lius. The Monkey King twirled the brush between his fingers, unrolling a new scroll of parchment.
“If I help you Write your love poem to Rin, Will you stop mooning so sadly ?” Wukong cocked a brow at his general, side eyeing him in a way only a friend could.
Marshal Liu felt his pride pricked, just a bit. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Liu- you have been my friend for countless years. Longer than most monkeys usually live.” Wukong dipped the brush into the inkwell, checking the ink stone and grimacing at its diminished size. “I know you from the tips of your ears to the ends of your fur. We have fought and bled side by side. You may be a master at strategy and planning but. My friend.”
Wukong turned his whole face to stare at Liu. “You suck at hiding how in love you are with Rin Rin.”
The Marshal sat up, opened his mouth to defend, to deflect —
Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, waited. His face set in a neutral and very are you really going to argue with me? expression.
Liu closed his mouth, tugged at his fur and set his chin on the stone table. “She makes me feel so—-“
“Mhm.”
“She’s so—!”
“Mhm…”
“I just can’t get the words out!” The Marshal admitted finally. “Each time I start to tell her, I freeze. I’ve tried so many times!”
When Rin and He had shared a sweet patch of strawberries he had tried to say how he loved her.
When Rin had been tending to a scratch on his face, chiding and reprimanding him for his recklessness again. Her anger had made him want to hold her and reassure her that he was fine.
When they had decided to stay out late, tails curled together as they counted the stars. Liu had wanted to compare her to each one.
And each of these times his words had either fled him or had refused to come out.
“And you thought to write them out because they keep getting stuck.”
Liu nodded.
“Give me the words and I’ll write them down.” Wukong set the tip, ready. “If I write this for you, then will come and put your mind back to keeping our mountain safe?”
Guilt itched beneath his fur. “My King i'm sorry—“
A affectionate rub of Wukongs head against his own shut the general up as the king tugged at his ear in play.
“Liu. I may not understand the power of what you are feeling,” Wukong cut off, tail thumping against the Marshals “but that doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t important. And … seeing you so distressed makes me distressed. I can help my friend in this simple task at least.”
Liu felt a warmth well from him. For all his Kings boasting and prideful proclamations, Wukong cared for each of his subjects - even in the face of his incomprehension. He would do what he could to ease his friends, his subjects, his families struggles. Wukong began to write as Liu began to speak, his face warm and his hands slowly beginning uncurl from his fur.
After just an hour with Wukongs transcribing and Liu describing, the confession was complete. Liu clutched the scroll and strapped it to his side.
He had been able to attend the Council with a lighter heart and a smile on his face. The discussion and the plans to increase patrols along the pine forest to the west of Flower Fruit Mountain had been unanimously agreed upon as the troubling information came to light.
The scouts' reports had indicated that there had been activity - a half made campfire kicked over and cold with bones from what looked like a small deer- not a few leaps and bounds from the slopes. Liu had frowned at the description of the tracks- five footed, fur and the scent of musk in the air. Another band of Monkeys … but they seem to be scouting us as well.
When Liu had this brought to attention, an immediate patrol had been sent out to gain more information on how many may be circling their home. The unspoken kept being danced around but all in that council chamber had a suspicion. Demon Monkeys….
Until they knew further who and what they were facing, Wukong wouldn’t risk a war troop to prowl the nearby hills and leave the rest of his family and people exposed.
Liu had a bit of time beneath the growing moon of night to find Rin Rin now. Before his nerves left him. Wukongs handwriting had made the words look better, flow better, feel better to the Marshals eyes. His King had sat through his flowery language, and had written it all diligently if with a little bit of snorting at times. (“Don’t compare her to pine nuts!” “But she smells of the pines and the wood and everything I love!” “…. But pine nuts ?”)
If his words failed him, Liu had them written down. If they stuck in his throat, he could pull them apart with the help of his letter. His heart was thumping, his fur was sticking out a bit as electric nerves rolled on his skin. Liu was in full armor having come from council, and it jangled softly in the night air. But it was a comforting jangle- a separate staccato rhythm against his body.
As the moon rose outside of Water-Curtain Cave casting the spray in silver light, Liu gazed out. Some other monkeys mingled in the cooling air enjoying the clear night. Tending to loved ones by either grooming fur, sharing ripening fruits from the many orchards across the vast mountain, or cuddling down in the soft grasses to gaze upward. Liu greeted each in turn, butting heads or brushing hands. Pride welled in him, making Liu stand taller. This was his home- his family. The peace they lived in was hard won and protected by their King and his Marshals- and that peace was precious.
A small bundle of babes shot past, one carrying a lychee fruit as a prize to be kept from the others. A pair of older simians gazed into the waters of the pool, leaning into each other. Liu would fight a thousand demons, all the celestial beings in the world, to keep this peace. He would tame dragons and pull the moon down from its boughs in Heaven to preserve this peace.
Liu turned, green eyes seeking. There, just beneath the pomegranate tree overlooking a mossy spray of water, he spotted the cloud gray of Rin Rin. Even in the shadow of the tree he could see her moon flower perched behind her ear, the fur perfectly groomed in wonderous swirls. He wished he had a bouquet of moonflowers to bring her or a cup of tea to present to her. He wanted to come bearing gifts and to tend and tidy her hair and weave flowers throughout it.
He came bearing his heart instead.
Said heart thumped against his chest. Steady Liu.
Liu took a moment to groom his finger through his fur, his tail, and to dust at his armor. He grabbed at a small patch of pine needles, snapping them between fingers and briefly rubbing the tips over his fur. He wanted to look his best to smell his best to be his best.
Then, gathering himself and tapping the scroll's top at his hip, Liu straightened and stepped forward.
He would tell her how much she meant to him. He would show her how much she was worth to him- between the words he had been able to wrangle and place onto a page.
Liu would never get the chance to unwind that scroll however. The night air that had been full of gentle chatter and warm conversation was broken by screams as the mountain's peace was shattered into a thousand screams of fury and fear rang off the mountain.
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shiorihyuga · 1 month ago
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Diamond Of The First Water
In the aftermath of war, Paradis finds itself in need of powerful alliances. When Emperor Armand of Valoria offers his military aid in exchange for the hand of his daughter, Princess Solina, in marriage, Captain Levi Ackerman is thrust into an engagement that begins as a political strategy but soon becomes something much deeper.
Princess Solina, sheltered from the world and unaware of the realities of love and war, finds herself drawn to Levi—the man known as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. As they navigate royal customs, public expectations, and the growing threat of Marley, the bond between them deepens into a genuine connection.
But neither Solina nor Levi are prepared for the challenges of a political marriage, the weight of intimacy, and the secrets that lie beneath the surface. As Solina enters a new life with Levi, her naivety is tested, and Levi faces a battle unlike any he’s fought before—the fight to protect his heart.
Can their love flourish in the midst of war, duty, and danger? Or will the forces conspiring against them tear them apart before they can find peace?
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Chapter Three
The sky over Paradis was a dull gray, the kind of overcast that muted the world beneath it, casting everything in a cold, somber light. The wind carried a biting chill, a reminder that even in moments of relative peace, the weight of the world remained heavy on their shoulders. Inside the war room at the military headquarters, the scouts were gathered once again, the tension palpable as they awaited word from Valoria.
Levi stood near the window, arms crossed as he stared out at the empty streets below, his face as stoic as ever. The others sat around the long wooden table—Hange, Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Floch—each with their own expressions of uncertainty. The weight of the alliance with Valoria had been hanging over them for days now, the decision to accept the marriage proposal still fresh in their minds.
“I still can’t believe it,” Jean muttered, his arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair. “Levi, of all people, getting engaged to some princess. It feels… surreal.”
Connie snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, and the fact that it’s all because of some political move? Just doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Doesn’t have to sit right,” Floch interjected, leaning forward with a smug look. “It’s what’s best for Paradis. If this alliance secures us Valoria’s military support and gives us access to their resources, then who cares how it happens? Captain Levi can handle it.”
Mikasa, who had been silent for most of the conversation, frowned slightly, her gaze shifting to Levi, who remained by the window, unmoving. She hadn’t voiced her opinion on the matter, but it was clear that the idea of someone close to her being used in a political arrangement didn’t sit well. Especially not when it came to someone like Levi, who had always fought for his own terms.
Eren, seated beside her, stared at the table with that same cold, calculating expression he’d worn ever since the attack on Liberio. His mind seemed distant, but his presence was heavy in the room.
Hange, seated at the head of the table, drummed her fingers against the wood. “We knew this was coming. An engagement like this isn’t just for show—they want to formalize the alliance, make sure everyone’s on the same page. And for that, there’s bound to be meetings and discussions.” Her tone was light, but her eyes were sharp, always assessing.
Just then, there was a knock on the door, and an officer stepped in, holding a letter sealed with the insignia of Valoria. “Commander Hange,” the officer said, handing the letter to her, “a message from Emperor Armand.”
The room fell silent as all eyes turned toward Hange, who took the letter with a nod of thanks. She carefully broke the seal, her movements deliberate as she unfolded the parchment. As her eyes scanned the contents of the letter, the air seemed to thicken with anticipation.
Hange’s lips quirked into a small, tight smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, it’s official,” she said, looking up at the group. “Emperor Armand has invited us to Valoria to discuss the terms of the alliance. And… for Captain Levi to meet Princess Solina in person.”
Levi didn’t react, his eyes still fixed on the streets outside, though his posture grew a fraction tenser. He had known this was coming, but hearing it stated so plainly still hit him harder than he expected.
Mikasa’s frown deepened. “So we’re really doing this. You’re really going to Valoria.”
Levi finally turned away from the window, his face as impassive as ever. “It seems that way.”
Jean let out a low whistle. “I gotta admit, I didn’t think we’d actually get to the point where we’d be traveling to some foreign empire to meet royalty. And you, Captain—married to a princess? It’s like something out of a story.”
Sasha, ever curious, leaned forward, her eyes wide. “I can’t imagine someone like that fitting in here, especially with all the things we’ve been through.”
Floch, clearly unimpressed by the concerns raised, shrugged. “Does it matter? She’s probably like every other noble we’ve dealt with—rich, spoiled, and used to getting her way. But that’s irrelevant. What matters is that we secure the alliance, get what we need, and move on.”
Armin, who had been deep in thought, finally spoke, his voice calm but tinged with caution. “We should be careful. Valoria might be offering us this alliance, but that doesn’t mean we can trust them completely. They’re powerful, and they’re using marriage as a tool to bind us to them. We need to make sure we’re not walking into a situation where Paradis becomes dependent on them.”
Hange nodded in agreement, her fingers still toying with the edges of the letter. “Exactly. This meeting isn’t just a formality. It’s our chance to see how far they’re willing to go, and what they’re expecting from us in return. The ice burst stone is valuable, but we can’t let that blind us to the bigger picture.”
Eren’s voice cut through the conversation, cold and resolute. “We’ll use them like they’re using us. The moment they stop being useful, we cut ties. We don’t owe them anything beyond what serves Paradis.”
Levi’s gaze flicked briefly to Eren, noting the hardened expression on his face. Eren’s transformation over the past months had been drastic, but Levi wasn’t surprised by the young man’s words. Eren had become ruthlessly pragmatic, his emotions buried beneath layers of resolve and calculation.
“Are we all going to Valoria?” Connie asked, glancing around the room. “I mean, shouldn’t we send a smaller group or something? We don’t want to look like we’re marching in with a whole army.”
Hange considered this for a moment before nodding. “We’ll send a delegation. Myself, Captain Levi, and a few others. We can’t risk sending everyone, but we need enough presence to show that we’re serious about this alliance. Besides, this isn’t just about the marriage; it’s about the future of Paradis.”
Levi, still standing near the window, finally spoke up, his voice low and controlled. “I’ll go. I’ll meet this Princess Solina, and we’ll see what kind of game they’re playing. But make no mistake—this is for Paradis. Not for them.”
Hange smiled, though it was a grim sort of smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Captain.”
Mikasa’s eyes lingered on Levi, a mixture of worry and respect in her gaze. “Just be careful. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
Levi met her gaze, his eyes steady. “I always am.”
As the conversation continued, plans were made for the journey to Valoria. It would be a delicate negotiation, not just for the alliance, but for the future of both nations. And while the scouts understood the importance of the task at hand, the weight of the unknown hung over them like a storm on the horizon.
Eren’s gaze shifted from the letter to the map of the world spread out on the table. His mind was already thinking ahead, calculating the possibilities. This alliance would serve Paradis, but he knew better than to trust any nation, no matter how powerful. His focus remained sharp, his thoughts always centered on the survival of his people.
The room quieted as the reality of what lay ahead settled in. Valoria was a land of mystery, power, and political games that the scouts were only just beginning to understand. And at the center of it all was Captain Levi Ackerman, now bound to a foreign princess he had never met, in a land far across the sea.
Levi stood still, looking out at the horizon, his mind already preparing for the journey ahead. It wasn’t fear or anxiety that gripped him—it was the cold certainty that, once again, his life had been pulled into something beyond his control. And yet, he would face it head-on, as he always had.
Because for Levi, this was just another mission. Another battle. And he wouldn’t let Paradis fall.
As the war room settled into a tense quiet, Levi stepped away from the window, his mind made up. The journey to Valoria wasn’t one he was looking forward to, but it was necessary. Hange, standing nearby, folded the letter from Emperor Armand and placed it on the table before addressing the group.
“Alright, it’s decided,” Hange said, her voice firm but measured. “Levi, Armin, Jean, and I will be the ones to travel to Valoria and represent Paradis in these negotiations. We’ll meet with Emperor Armand, Princess Solina, and whoever else they deem necessary to finalize the alliance.”
Immediately, there were groans of disapproval from Connie and Sasha.
“Wait, why not us?” Connie asked, his face scrunched up in frustration. “We should be going too! I mean, when else are we going to get the chance to visit some fancy empire on the other side of the world?”
Sasha, who was sitting next to him, nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, come on! You can’t just leave us behind. I want to see what the food’s like over there! Besides, we’re part of the team too.”
Levi’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he crossed his arms over his chest. His tone was blunt, as always. “No.”
Connie blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sharpness of Levi’s response. “Wait, what? Why not?”
Levi’s expression didn’t waver. “Because we can’t risk all of us leaving at the same time. If Marley attacks while we’re gone, and the core members of the Scouts are missing, Paradis is as good as dead. You two staying behind is non-negotiable.”
Sasha’s face fell slightly, but she still tried to press her case. “But we can help! It’s not like we’re just going to sit around if something happens—”
Levi cut her off with a raised hand. “That’s not the point. We’re already risking enough by sending this delegation. Eren needs to stay to defend the island, and Mikasa is going to stay with him. You and Connie need to be here to back them up.”
Connie let out a long sigh, slumping back in his chair, clearly not happy with the decision but not willing to push Levi further. “Fine, fine. I get it. Just… don’t have all the fun without us.”
Jean smirked from his place at the table, leaning back with a teasing grin. “Don’t worry, Connie. I’ll send you a letter about how fancy the royal palace is and all the great food Sasha’s missing out on.”
Sasha scowled, crossing her arms and muttering under her breath, “I better get a damn letter with descriptions of everything you eat…”
Armin, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange, nodded in agreement with Levi. “It makes sense. Marley is still a threat, and we can’t leave the island defenseless. Eren will be here if anything happens, and if Marley attacks, we need all of you ready to respond.”
Eren, sitting a few chairs away, hadn’t said much, but his expression remained as cold and unreadable as always. His eyes flicked up toward Levi and Hange for a moment before landing on Armin.
“I’m not leaving the island,” Eren said flatly. “If Marley comes, I’ll be ready for them. And if anything goes wrong in Valoria, just send word. I’ll deal with it.”
Mikasa, seated beside Eren, remained silent, but there was no mistaking her resolve. Wherever Eren went, she would follow. She wasn’t about to leave his side now, especially not with the uncertainty hanging over their heads.
Hange gave a satisfied nod, clearly appreciating that at least some of the group was on the same page. “Exactly. Eren, Mikasa, Connie, Sasha, you’ll be here holding the fort while we’re away. We won’t be gone long, but we’ll need to make sure everything runs smoothly while we’re negotiating with Valoria. If anything happens, we’ll send word, but for now, Paradis needs to be protected.”
Levi glanced over at Eren, his gaze sharp. “You’re the one they fear, Eren. If Marley makes a move, you’ll be the reason they hesitate. Don’t do anything reckless while we’re gone.”
Eren met Levi’s gaze, his expression unreadable, but he gave a slight nod. “I know my role.”
The tension in the room seemed to ease slightly, though it was clear that everyone still felt the weight of the situation. With Levi, Hange, Armin, and Jean preparing to leave for Valoria, and Eren and the others staying behind to defend Paradis, the stakes had never been higher.
Hange clapped her hands together, breaking the somber mood. “Well, let’s not dwell on it too much. We’ve got preparations to make. Levi, we’ll need to coordinate with Kiyomi Azumabito to arrange transportation. I’ll take care of that. Armin, Jean—make sure you’re packed and ready to leave in the next few days. We don’t know exactly when the meeting will be, but we’ll need to be ready.”
Armin nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. “I’ll prepare everything we’ll need for the trip. We’ll have to bring detailed maps of Paradis and documents outlining the terms of the alliance.”
Jean, always pragmatic, stood from the table and stretched. “I guess this means I need to pack my nicest shirt. Can’t look like a slob in front of royalty.”
Levi scoffed but didn’t comment, already turning toward the door. His mind was focused on the mission ahead. While he had no interest in politics or alliances, this was just another battle to him—one where the stakes were higher than ever. And while meeting Princess Solina wasn’t something he particularly looked forward to, it was part of the job now.
As the scouts began to move about, preparing for what came next, the weight of their decisions hung in the air. The journey to Valoria would mark a turning point for Paradis, and the world beyond their island was still full of unknowns.
Levi, ever the soldier, was ready for whatever came next. But even as he prepared, the lingering question remained in the back of his mind—What kind of life could he possibly have with someone like Princess Solina?
He and Hange moved quickly after the meeting, knowing they had little time to waste. The weight of the upcoming journey to Valoria hung over them, and though neither of them expressed it outwardly, they both understood the importance of securing the alliance.
As they walked through the quiet streets of Paradis toward the Azumabito estate, Levi remained his usual stoic self, while Hange hummed a little tune under her breath, her mind clearly buzzing with anticipation.
“You’re thinking too much again,” Levi muttered, breaking the silence.
Hange grinned but didn’t deny it. “I can’t help it, Levi. We’re about to head to a powerful empire to negotiate terms that could shape the future of Paradis. My mind’s racing. Aren’t you at least a little excited?”
Levi glanced sideways at her, his face as impassive as ever. “I’m not excited about anything that involves being used as a political pawn.”
Hange sighed, giving him a playful nudge. “Ah, you’ll be fine. You’re Levi Ackerman, after all. The princess is probably terrified of the idea of marrying you.”
“Tch,” Levi scoffed but didn’t say more. The idea of meeting Princess Solina, of being dragged into a marriage for the sake of political convenience, weighed heavily on him. But it wasn’t something he could change now.
As they approached the Azumabito estate, the ornate gates swung open, revealing the elegant grounds within. It was a place of wealth and sophistication, a stark contrast to the rough, war-torn streets of Paradis. Kiyomi Azumabito had been instrumental in supporting the Scouts during their mission in Marley, and now her assistance would once again prove invaluable.
A pair of Azumabito guards bowed respectfully as Hange and Levi entered the estate. They were soon led into a lavish room, where Kiyomi herself waited, standing by a large table covered with maps and navigation charts. Her sharp eyes gleamed as she looked up, welcoming them with a graceful nod.
“Commander Hange, Captain Levi,” she said smoothly, gesturing for them to approach the table. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“Thanks for seeing us on such short notice,” Hange replied, stepping forward. “We’ve received word from Emperor Armand. We need to depart for Valoria as soon as possible to begin formal negotiations.”
Kiyomi’s gaze flickered with understanding, her posture poised. “Of course. The ship is ready for you. We anticipated that you would need our assistance in reaching Valoria, and we’ve already begun preparations for the voyage.”
Hange leaned over the table, inspecting the maps spread before her. One of the charts detailed the route from Paradis to Valoria, a long line tracing across the ocean. “How long will it take us to get there?” she asked, her brow furrowing in concentration.
Kiyomi smiled faintly, tapping one of the charts with her finger. “By sea, the journey will take approximately two weeks, assuming favorable weather conditions. The Azumabito ship is well-equipped for such a voyage, and we will provide all the necessary provisions for you and your team.”
Levi crossed his arms, his gaze shifting to the map. “Two weeks on a ship,” he muttered. “Not exactly my idea of a good time.”
Hange shot him a grin. “Oh, come on, Levi. Think of it as a nice little break from all the Titan slaying.”
Levi didn’t bother to respond, his mind already calculating the time they’d be gone from Paradis. Two weeks to Valoria, and likely just as long for the return trip. They couldn’t afford to be away for too long. Marley was still a threat, and every day they spent negotiating abroad was another day their island was left vulnerable.
Kiyomi, sensing Levi’s concern, continued speaking, her voice calm and measured. “I understand the urgency of your mission. Rest assured, the Azumabito crew onboard will ensure your safety during the voyage. I will personally oversee the preparations and ensure that everything is in order before your departure.”
Hange nodded gratefully, though her mind was clearly racing with plans and possibilities. “Thank you, Kiyomi. We’ll need to leave as soon as possible. There’s no time to waste.”
Kiyomi inclined her head. “I will have my crew finalize everything by tomorrow. You will set sail at dawn.”
Levi stepped forward, his eyes locking with Kiyomi’s. “We can’t afford any mistakes. Paradis is still vulnerable. If anything happens while we’re away—”
Kiyomi raised a hand, her expression serene but firm. “You have my word, Captain Levi. The ship will reach Valoria safely, and I trust that your fellow Scouts will keep Paradis secure in your absence. As you’ve said before, you must trust in those who remain behind.”
Levi’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. Trust was a word that came with great difficulty for him, especially when so much was at stake. But there was no choice now. They had to go.
Hange smiled at Kiyomi, her eyes gleaming with excitement despite the seriousness of the situation. “We’ll be ready by dawn. Thank you, Kiyomi.”
Kiyomi bowed her head slightly, her eyes glimmering with the same intelligence that had made her a powerful ally. “May the winds carry you swiftly to Valoria. I believe your mission will be a success.”
As Hange and Levi turned to leave, Kiyomi added, “And, Captain Levi… remember that you are not just a soldier in this. You are a symbol of Paradis, a force that cannot be underestimated. Even in a foreign land, your presence will be more significant than you realize.”
Levi paused at the door, his expression unreadable, before giving a slight nod. He didn’t like the weight of symbolism, of being a figurehead for Paradis, but it wasn’t something he could escape. Especially now.
Once they were outside the estate, Hange glanced sideways at Levi, her usual playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, Levi, looks like we’re in for a long journey. You excited to meet your princess?”
Levi shot her a flat look, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Can’t wait.”
Hange laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be an unforgettable experience.”
As they made their way back to the military headquarters, the reality of what lay ahead settled in. Two weeks at sea to a foreign empire, negotiations with royalty, and a marriage that could determine the future of Paradis. It wasn’t the kind of battle Levi had ever imagined himself fighting, but it was one he had no choice but to face.
The morning would come soon enough, and with it, the beginning of a journey that would shape not just their future, but the future of Paradis itself.
The day had arrived, and the docks of Paradis were bustling with activity as the Azumabito ship prepared for its departure. The sleek vessel, larger than anything most of the scouts had ever seen, rested in the water like a silent predator, its hull glinting in the early morning light. The sails billowed gently in the breeze as the crew moved about, making final adjustments before setting off for Valoria.
Levi, Hange, Armin, and Jean stood near the gangplank, their bags slung over their shoulders. Around them, the remaining members of the Scout Regiment—Eren, Mikasa, Connie, Sasha, and Floch—gathered to see them off. The air was thick with the significance of the moment, but there was also an undercurrent of excitement.
"Well," Hange began, grinning as she looked around at the group, "this is it. Our first official diplomatic mission to a foreign country as guests. Who would've thought?"
Armin adjusted the strap of his bag, his eyes shining with curiosity. "It’s incredible to think about. We’ve spent so much time fighting, and now we’re being invited to Valoria, one of the most powerful empires in the world. This could change everything."
Jean crossed his arms, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah, if you’d told me a few years ago that we’d be boarding a ship to meet royalty and negotiate alliances, I would’ve called you crazy. Still feels surreal."
Sasha and Connie stood side by side, both looking more than a little envious of the ones leaving. Sasha sighed dramatically. "I still can’t believe we’re not going. You guys better send food back or something. I bet they have the best pastries in Valoria."
Connie nodded in agreement. "Yeah, come on, Hange. At least smuggle us back some cool souvenirs or something."
Hange laughed, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to send you both a nice postcard from the royal palace."
Eren stood a little off to the side, his gaze distant, though his sharp eyes remained locked on Levi. There was no warmth in his expression, just that same calculating coldness that had taken root in him ever since their return from Marley.
“You know your role, Captain,” Eren said quietly, his tone flat. “We can’t afford to make any mistakes. Valoria’s support is crucial, but if they betray us…”
Levi cut him off with a sharp look. “I know. If they cross us, we deal with it. But that’s not the plan. For now, we need their support, and I’ll do what needs to be done to secure it.”
Mikasa stood beside Eren, her arms crossed as she watched the ship, her expression more reserved but no less focused. “Just be careful,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “We don’t know what kind of place Valoria is. You might be guests, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be safe.”
Levi glanced at her, his eyes hard but not unkind. “I’m always careful.”
Floch, leaning against a crate nearby, spoke up, his tone a mix of arrogance and impatience. “Just remember that we’re counting on this alliance. If things go south, don’t hesitate to take action. We can’t let Paradis be at the mercy of anyone, no matter how powerful they are.”
Hange’s smile softened slightly as she watched Floch, but she didn’t comment on his bluntness. Instead, she looked at the group one last time, her gaze lingering on Eren and Mikasa before turning to Armin and Jean. "Well, time to get going. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us, and I’m sure the high seas will be as exciting as Valoria itself."
Jean shook his head. "Yeah, if we don’t get seasick first. Two weeks at sea isn’t exactly my idea of fun."
Armin chuckled. "I’ve always wanted to see more of the world, and this is our chance. Who knows what we’ll learn in Valoria?"
Levi, ever the pragmatic one, cut the conversation short. “Enough chatter. Let’s get on board. We’ve got work to do.”
With that, the four of them—Levi, Hange, Armin, and Jean—stepped onto the gangplank, boarding the ship. The crew immediately moved to prepare for departure, raising the anchor and unfurling the sails. The wind caught in the fabric, pushing the vessel forward as it began to move away from the dock.
Hange, leaning on the railing, waved enthusiastically at the remaining scouts on the dock. “Take care of Paradis while we’re gone! And don’t forget to water my plants, Floch!”
Floch scowled but waved back reluctantly, muttering something under his breath. Connie and Sasha waved with more enthusiasm, though their disappointment at being left behind was still clear on their faces.
Mikasa remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ship as it slowly drifted away from the shore. Eren stood beside her, his arms crossed, his expression as unreadable as ever.
As the ship pulled further out into the harbor, the wind picking up and the sea stretching out before them, Hange turned to Levi, her grin wide. “You ready for this, Levi? Two weeks of nothing but the ocean and our delightful company.”
Levi gave her a sidelong glance, his voice dry. “I’ve had worse missions.”
Armin stood beside them, looking out at the horizon. “It’s strange, isn’t it? All the times we’ve fought and bled for Paradis, and now we’re setting sail to negotiate. It feels… different.”
Jean leaned against the railing, his gaze thoughtful. “Yeah, different’s one way to put it. But it’s a good different. For once, we’re not going to fight. We’re going to build something. That’s new for us.”
Levi remained silent, his thoughts focused on the mission ahead. He knew better than to expect anything simple. Valoria was a powerful empire, and the marriage proposal, while strategic, would come with complications. Meeting Princess Solina, a woman he had never seen or spoken to, felt like the least of his worries compared to the political games that awaited them.
Hange, ever the optimist, gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t look so grim, Levi. We’ve survived Titans, Marley, and more battles than I can count. We’ll manage this too.”
The ship continued to cut through the waves, leaving Paradis behind as the distant shoreline disappeared from view. For the first time in what felt like forever, they weren’t heading into battle. They were heading into the unknown, yes, but it was a new kind of unknown. A diplomatic one.
As the wind picked up and the sea stretched endlessly before them, Levi, Hange, Armin, and Jean settled into the reality of their journey. Two weeks at sea, with Valoria—and a future bound by alliances—waiting on the other side.
That night, the ship rocked gently on the dark waves, the sound of the sea a constant hum against the wooden hull. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a faint silver glow over the deck, but inside his state room, Levi was far from finding peace.
He lay on the narrow bed, staring up at the ceiling, his body still and tense despite the weariness that clung to him. Sleep had always been an elusive thing for Levi, but tonight, the restless energy in his mind was worse than usual. His thoughts swirled with images of battles and decisions, the familiar weight of responsibility settling over him like a heavy blanket.
But tonight, there was something new gnawing at him—something that had nothing to do with Titans or military strategy.
Princess Solina.
Levi let out a soft, frustrated breath, turning his head slightly to glance at the small, round window in his cabin. The ocean stretched endlessly beyond the glass, a vast and empty expanse that mirrored the uncertainty in his mind. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—unsettled, unsure of the future. He had always thrived on clarity, on knowing what needed to be done and doing it without hesitation.
But now? Now he was headed to a foreign empire to meet a woman he’d never seen, to marry her for the sake of an alliance that could determine the future of Paradis. The thought of it made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t like.
How the hell am I supposed to be a husband to a princess?
Levi wasn’t naive. He understood the political necessity of the marriage. This was about survival—about ensuring that Paradis had the strength and resources it needed to withstand whatever threats would come next. But that didn’t make the situation any easier to accept.
He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax, but it was no use. His mind continued to race, filled with questions he didn’t have answers to. What kind of person was she, this Princess Solina? Was she as sheltered as the stories suggested, locked away in some lavish palace all her life? Would she even know what it meant to live in a place like Paradis, where death had always lingered just beyond the Walls?
And more importantly—what kind of husband was he supposed to be?
Levi had never thought about marriage before, never even considered the idea of settling down or starting a family. His life had been one of violence, of war and loss, and he had never had the luxury of thinking about anything beyond the next mission, the next battle. Now, suddenly, he was being thrust into a role he didn’t know how to play.
What did Princess Solina expect from him? What would she want from someone like him—a hardened soldier, a man who had seen more death and destruction than any royal could imagine?
She probably expects a prince. Someone polished and refined, who knows how to navigate court politics and speak in pretty words. Not someone like me.
He shifted on the bed, his muscles tense with frustration. He couldn’t be that kind of man, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn’t soft or gentle. He wasn’t someone who could offer comfort or love. He had spent his entire life fighting to protect others, but when it came to matters of the heart, Levi was at a loss.
What kind of husband could he be to a woman like her? A princess, no less—a woman whose life had been shaped by diplomacy, wealth, and status. He imagined the delicate nature of her life compared to his own brutal existence, and the gap between them felt like a canyon.
Levi rubbed his temples, the ache of sleeplessness growing behind his eyes. He wasn’t scared of the marriage—fear wasn’t something Levi allowed himself to feel—but he couldn’t shake the sense of unease. He had always fought his battles head-on, but this felt different. This wasn’t a fight he could win with strength or strategy. This was a life he was about to walk into, a bond that couldn’t be severed with a blade.
She’s probably terrified, he thought, surprising himself with the realization. If he felt this unsettled by the prospect of the marriage, how much worse must it be for her? She was the one being offered up, being sent away from her home to marry a man she didn’t know, in a land she had likely only heard terrifying stories about.
Levi’s chest tightened again, though this time it wasn’t just frustration. He felt a twinge of sympathy for her. He imagined Princess Solina—a woman who had been raised in the safety of a royal palace, surrounded by beauty and luxury—being thrust into a world as harsh as Paradis. What could she possibly make of a life with him, a man who had seen nothing but bloodshed?
I’ll figure it out, he told himself, though the words felt hollow. He always figured things out. He always found a way to survive, to fight through whatever obstacle was in front of him. But this… this wasn’t something he could just fight through. This was different.
With a deep sigh, Levi sat up in bed, the cool night air brushing against his skin. He ran a hand through his dark hair, his thoughts still circling in endless loops. He had never wanted this—never wanted to be part of some political game. But now, here he was, sailing toward a future he couldn’t control.
She’s probably more afraid of me than I am of her, he thought, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He had a reputation, after all. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. A killer. A man whose entire life had been dedicated to wiping out Titans, and anyone else who threatened the people he swore to protect.
Levi leaned back against the wall, staring out the small window once more. The ship rocked gently with the motion of the waves, the sound of the sea the only thing filling the silence of the night.
Whatever awaited him in Valoria, whatever kind of woman Princess Solina turned out to be, Levi knew one thing: he wasn’t about to become someone else for the sake of politics. He couldn’t change who he was, and he wasn’t going to pretend to be something he wasn’t. He would do his duty, as he always had. But beyond that… he would simply have to figure it out as he went.
And with that thought, he closed his eyes, willing himself to rest. There was no use in worrying about what was to come. He had fought harder battles before, and he would survive this one too.
Even if it was a battle of a different kind.
~
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empressgeekt · 2 months ago
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you know what would be a interesting au
the events of burning branches happen except the wedding proposal letter happens like a day or two before the Biggest loudest Crazies party ever
Well, if Char were around during the party attack, he would not be alone. They're would be Rockers around and I think they would take the Chef down, and help relocate the Pop tribe to a closer forest area to Rock territory.
However if She did get away with the snack-pack, Char would follow Poppy because it's clear she has ZERO survival skills. During the journey they learn a lot about each other.
"I really don't understand why you're so against hug time."
"It's because it feels insincere. Like Hugs should be something special, when someone needs it. Not scheduled. And I'm not used to strangers touching me."
"*gasp* you don't hug your' friends! That's so sad!"
"What? no. I hug my friends but it's not one the hour, and my friends aren't just random people in the streets."
"You aren't friends with everyone in your village?"
"I can't. There's over 5000 people just in the main city alone. Too many to know personally and get stuff done."
"But you do you take care of them if you don't know them?"
"Majority vote."
"But wouldn't that mean that some of them won't be happy with the plan."
"Yeah, the needs of the many out weight the needs of the few."
"Could you just find a way to make them all happy."
"Sometimes, but in some cases you can't. Why are you so concerned with how happy they are anyway."
"Uhm duh! That's the job of the king or Queen, keeping the people happy! Is that not how it works for Rock trolls?"
"No, the crown's job is to keep people safe, secure and stable."
"So, was Creek right and you guys can't feel happy?"
"We can feel happy, it's just we have other things to worry about over our next thrill trip, and don't trust anything Creek says about us. If you have questions about MY culture you can ask me, and not the guy who calls us barbarians."
"Creek was just joking when he called you that!"
"You mean racism to you is joking around. You're lucky it wasn't Val who over heard that."
"It's not racism!"
"Poppy! he's been calling our traditions and beliefs, savage and backwards. How would you like it if someone some tried to tell you you're music and holidays suck and you should practice there holidays! You know it was exactly this that led to the Great string war."
"String war? They fought over he strings? Dad told me that all the tribe went their separate ways amicably."
"OH...my ozzy..."
It's a very enlightening trip.
Char is fighting an odd buzzy migraine from the moment of they enter Bergentown. He mutters a prayer to Ozzy when they watch Creek get "eaten", Char may not like the guy, but no one deserves that fate. And he pities Bridget for the mistreatment she has but he has trolls to free. His future wife continues to baffle him, with the belief that Creek was still alive and then making a deal with bridget, and that that deal sends his headcahe over the edge.
Poppy is too happy befriending Bridget to notice Char's state until Bridget asks if someone was wrong with him. When Poppy turns to to find Char passed out on the ground twitching, she's panicking. Was he sick? Was this normal for Rock trolls?
During the fit Char sees the Chef grab a elder troll with mint colored hair while the feeling of falling over took his body. He was grateful the seizure was a quick one, since Poppy looked really freaked out once his vision cleared. He shows his scar and explains the head wound, and seizure condition. They let him take a short nap while they get Bridget ready since they were worried for him.
Poppy and Bridget would gossip about boys, Poppy wanting to know all the details about Bridget's love for the Bergen king while they get her ready. Poppy tells her about how Char is her fiance, and Bridget wants to know all about that. "So, he came across the world to marry you and save his people? he sounds very brave." "Yea...I guess he is."
When Creek's betrayal happens, He tells the chef all about the Rock tribe, and Char threatens to kill him!
At the end, Barb and the other Rock trolls barge in to save everyone...right after peace is made.
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colleybri · 5 months ago
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“Look how nicely that’s cleaned up. People don’t look down the way they should, they don’t look past the rust. But not us, eh?.. eyes open, possibilities everywhere!” (Clem Andor)
“Your father would be proud of you” (Cassian’s last words to Jyn in Rogue One)
Memory can be painful. But sometimes those memories come at exactly the right time, and our fathers live again.
“I’m sorry that I never did call you “Dad” while you were alive.
Perhaps if your name had started with the same letters it would have been easier for me. Perhaps you were a little jealous when, while I was learning your language, I said “Ma” and you and she had realised about the coincidence for the first time. She had laughed and looked delighted, and I had smiled. So had you, but a little sadly, I thought.
But I used your name with the exact same love. And in time you became to me the figure I thought I had lost forever: my father. My Dad. 
I’m sorry, too, that I haven’t thought about you often enough in the way that I would have preferred to. What I mean is - I thought about you a lot. Every day. But always with the association of what happened to you. And to me. Your memory had always brought me pain, because even when I remembered you alive I also saw you dead. Cold, stiff and dusted with frost. The rope, creaking. And I always tasted the acid bile of my grief and my horror and my pain, retched into my mouth, burning me so badly that I would always swallow it back down so it could churn and boil below, contained as much as I could contain it. 
See? Even now, though I’m not much good usually with fancy language, the horror is apparently more vivid to me than the joy of remembering you. When I let it overpower me again. 
But I’m changing that. I’ve already started, I think. 
You see, a few months ago I was asked to do something brave. I was going to be paid for it, but the danger was clear to me from the scale of the job. It turned out to be even worse. But before I knew that … I chose to be you. I chose your name. I thought I could make you live again, a little, through me. 
I know you told me, before you died, that it was “not our fight”. I love and respect you enough to tell you that you were wrong. I knew it then, deep down, and I know it even more now. Then, I fought in the only way I knew how to. With just my rage and sense of justice -  and a stupid stick. And I paid the price for all that so bitterly that I went on to convince myself that you had been right, and that the fight wasn't ours and was something to avoid. 
But you can’t avoid this. You just can’t ignore it. Because if you ignore it, it doesn’t go away. It just gets worse. We have let it get worse and worse and it’s almost too late to do anything about it. Almost, but not quite. 
I learned this lesson for myself. I can’t ignore what is happening, not anymore. 
When I first used your name - borrowed you - I was like you: a man who didn’t want to fight, but one who grew to love and respect his new family members. So I ended up wanting to fight for them. 
And just as you had welcomed me into your life and your heart despite your early misgivings, so too I learned to love, and to care for others outside of my own circle. I didn’t want to give up on them. I grew to care. 
So you might not have approved, at first, of what I chose to do but I think that in the end you would have been proud of what I did. And what you did too, living on in your name, as part of me. 
I was so proud to have you with me. 
And I had you with me again, earlier tonight. I came here for Ma's funeral. Though I can’t mourn her yet. There's too much raw pain - I can hardly stand to think about it all, can hardly stand to think about her. All I can think about is how I left her. How I had only just missed her. So I went straight to you, for comfort, perhaps in the knowledge that I can now properly mourn you. And this time, the memory came bright and pure and hopeful. I didn’t see your body and I didn’t think of the pain. I thought of you, whole. A simple happy memory from simple happy times. It made me sad, of course, but I smiled anyway. You had lived again for me, and this time through a loving memory. But also one with a lesson. It’s like you were trying to speak to me, having me remember that particular moment. I am pretty good, I am discovering, at learning. You would be proud of me, I think, if you could see how adaptable I am becoming. Practically, but also in terms of understanding and acting on … I suppose I should call them: deeper messages. 
I cleaned up nicely, I think. People didn’t look past my rust. But there is still a lot of good in me. Iron. Pure Ferrix iron. I am dissolving away my rust in new resolve. You see, I need to be put to use again. I have salvaged myself from the yard, been repurposed as a weapon. I have been welded together with my need for freedom and justice. I have been oiled with new resolve. And I have been fuelled with love.
I don’t know how effective I will be though, as this weapon, against such a huge and solid fortress of hate and oppression. Just like Nemik describes - I’m alone, unsure and I feel dwarfed. I have lived and loved and lost so much. 
Bix. Tomorrow, I am going to die, probably, trying to save her - even though maybe there's nothing left to save except her honour and her memory. I will fight for her because I love her, and I owe her so much that I could never hope to pay off my debt - except like this. I don’t think I valued love enough until I accepted once again how hard it is to lose it. But also because if I don’t try, I will have failed in this fight before I have even properly started. 
If I live, if I succeed, I think I will go on fighting. I think I have found the man I really am. Either way, I don’t want to go back to who I was in these years since I lost you. I like the new me better. Because I respect him. Because he reminds me of you, at your best. I will keep my eyes open. I will look for possibilities everywhere. 
I think I have a choice, now. If I hide or run again, none of this will go away. And nothing that I have done will matter. I have to fight. I have to save those I love. Those I have left. Those who are still alive, but also the the memory of those I have lost. You. Ma. Kerri. My first parents. Nemik. Kino. All the others. But I also simply have to try to stop allowing others, who I don’t even know, to be forced to feel the same pain that I have - of this injustice, this tyranny, this hate. I have to help bring the Empire down or die trying. That’s something I know beyond doubt that I can do: I can try.
I will try. 
I know you always loved me. Maybe now you can be proud of me too. As I can be proud of you. 
I love you, Dad. And I’m so proud to be your son.”
https://archiveofourown.org/works/56405944
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letterstoear · 1 year ago
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Our days in the past~
Notes: A letter from Jade Leech where he thinks back about the beginning of your relationship, fluff, romance, Jade x Reader, GN reader.
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Check out my shop here: Shop — Letters to Ear (squarespace.com)
To my dear _______,
Do you remember when we first met? You had been tumbling off the mountain and I was trying my very best to help you. As you know I’ve never been one to help someone just because I felt like doing so. Helping someone means you’re also granted help from them, but I found myself opposing this very idea. Before we met, everyone would gladly offer their help, with the exception being Azul and Floyd of course. To have someone reject this, why it was a very bad decision you made. My curiosity was full latched onto this someone who didn’t follow the same behavior.
What caused you to deflect my poor self? Perhaps I failed to hide my emotions or as one would call it my true intent. It felt as if I was made of glass with how you saw through my every move so easily. Not only that, but you figured out a solution to each task I requested help for. Recall when I asked for you to work at the lounge, why you offered a way to get things done with less people. That idea was quite exquisite, if I may say, we made great use of it that day.
Sooner or later, I figured I would get bored of you and eventually go back to being lovely classmates. However, I was wrong, I became even more intrigued as time went on. Despite being able to see through me when it came to business, you still had moments of obliviousness. How shall I put this? You are a joy to tease because I never know how you’re going to react. There are times when you expect it and scrunch up into a ball. Other times you talk back to me with your own version of teasing. Yet, I also get the occasional ________ who is naive enough to fall for my tricks. Truly adorable. Looking back at the earlier stages of our romance sure brings tears to my eyes.
Sometimes I wonder what would happen if you were the one doing the chasing in the relationship. Would you fight for my attention? Or perhaps you made the bold decision to ask me out upon seeing me. Love at first sight you may call it.
That’s not to say all our moments together were filled with happiness. No, not at all. Especially during our fight on our first trip together. We fought over plans, between going by the dot or simply floating by. In the end it was thanks to our compromise that we could get over this bump in the road. Now we don’t run into such problems anymore. I’m quite lucky you’re my partner.
______, I know I asked you this many times, but when you’re done reading this, could you give me a kiss. I’m craving your love so badly right now. Just writing a love letter isn’t enough for me. I really want to see you, of course, there’s no way I could be irresponsible. There is no other option than for me to carry out my services with Azul and Floyd. Poor lonely me getting worked to the bone and away from my lover at that. How cruel the world is.
To close off my letter, allow me to thank you for loving me. You’ve given me so much love. There are times when I don’t feel worthy, but you’re quick to retaliate against my statements. I’ve never been happier than I am with you, I value our relationship greatly because I love you. My time is always here for you, there is no other exception than you. _________, I’ll never get tired of saying this, I love you.
So, how was my letter? I’ll be waiting for your response.
P.S Please feel free to give this a five-star review, especially since it’s your lover~
Love,
Jade Leech
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boneandfur · 1 year ago
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Choices Flash Fic! DarkFic; Tobias x F!MC
Angels in Hell
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@choicesflashfics #36. Uses prompt #2, "You’re allowed to fall apart a little."
A/N: I started writing this before I thought to grab a prompt, and it went to dark places. It was supplied to be a Harper x Ethan, but F!MC started talking... That's it. This fic is dark and I'm not sure why it came out, since it seems like the first chapter rather than a one shot. // Words: 1150 // Pairing: light f!mc x Tobias, acor MC x Antony (implied) // implied age gap relationship.
I always knew I'd end up working for the Outfit, from the time Uncle Tony caught me with a plastic stethoscope in my hands, to the day that Uncle Sam signed my soul over to the combat medical corps.
We need good people... like you, Chiara. You're the brains and Sy is the brawn. There will always be a place for the both of youse in the Outfit.
Is that because of Mama? I asked as I stood in front of Uncle Tony's desk and watched him swallow his grief along with his Campari, gold rings glittering. The shadow of two days beard was heavy on his jaw, and I yearned to reach out, to touch him, but instead crumpled the acceptance letter to Edenbrook in my pocket into a smaller and smaller ball, trying to keep my breathing steady as I watched him, the hero of my girlhood, the master of us all.
He set the glass down on his desk, the sound of it like the funeral bells that had gonged as the hearse pulled away from the cathedral steps in Little Italy, and I felt my throat tighten too. I swallowed my grief with my wine, clinking his glass in a toast. To her, then. I would always live in her shadow, until I could prove my worth.
Uncle Tony's eyes glistened wetly. Arin was a good woman. Bellissima... my tiger. You remind me of her, Princess. That blonde hair, and those eyes... Dio in paradiso, but she was a hurricane. And you are her very image...
Even though he'd married Octavia, I knew Mama had been the love of his life. Uncle Tony would have died for her, and nearly did. That was why I gave him my pledge of loyalty, right there in that room. A pledge for love, the kind that lasts beyond the grave.
And when I returned, I was no longer Chiara Valentine, Arin Valentine's little princess, but Chiara Valentine, combat medic and fast tracked through medical school due to all the strings pulled by Uncle Tony. It wasn't that I couldn't have done it on my own recognizance, but time was a luxury we didn't have after Doc Claudius had gotten his brains blown out by the Family, out in Drakovia. And Sy was in the clink. Again. For stealing cars from some gang in LA, connected to the Yakuza.
The Campari on the desk turned into the Negroni at the bar, and I was staring up into the golden eyes of my boss's and biggest mistake's biggest rival, the one and only Dr Tobias Carrick.
"Valentine." His upper lip curled, and I itched to smack the smugness right off his face, but I'd probably break a nail. After all, I was the Brains. I'd never fought anyone closer than fifty paces in my life, and we'd been in a tank. "Am I really that ugly, little princess, or do you scowl like that at all the plebs?"
If it were up to me, men like him would be six feet under, but I'd promised to hold my peace on mob soil, and the last thing Uncle Tony needed was a war with the Irish. Not that he'd do it for my sake -- it had been Mama who held his heart, and always would. So when I opened my mouth, what came out next surprised me. "I lost ... I lost someone. Today... it's the anniversary of her death."
"Bartender!" Tobias waved down the hipster serving white claw spritzers to the masses. "Get us a bottle of -- what's your poison, princess?"
"Limoncello." I didn't have to hesitate when the bartender slid the bottle down, and poured us two, on the rocks.
He prepared to knock back the entire glass when I caught him on the sleeve, for a moment looking thrown off his game, like he'd never seen a woman before. "Whoa there, Princess."
"Do you know what they say, Dr Carrick? They say that only the dead have seen the end of war. That's Plato. And don't call me princess." That's Antony's name for me.
"You’re allowed to fall apart a little." He touched my cheek gently, and it was only then that I realized I was crying. "Was it... a patient?"
What could I tell him? Of Afghanistan, and the starless desert skies that seemed to reach into the abyss, or of that single moment when my life changed forever? Or of how my life now seemed laid out before me in a single straight line with only a few stops along the way, Chicago to Afghanistan, to Boston and soon, soon, sooner than anyone could ever know, back again.
A pledge for love, the kind that lasts beyond the grave.
"She's been dead a long time." I wiped my cheek angrily with my sleeve, streaks of mascara coming away on it. "My mother. She died, and no one ever figured out what it was that killed her. That's why I'm here, really." I had never admitted the truth out loud before, to anyone.
Antony had come to find me at the barracks. I'd been barely eighteen, and one year in the army already. We'd drunk Limoncello til midnight, Arin Valentine's favorite drink, and we'd held one another and wept. In the morning, he'd left me with blood still drying on the sheets and an ache in my heart that no amount of Limoncello would ever ease.
A pledge for loyalty, until I stepped out of her shadow and proved my worth.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Tobias rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw and held out a hand. "We can just walk, Chiara. You look like you need some air. I won't talk about old business tonight, and it's not a trick, I... I promise."
I took his hand, Dio in paradiso, heaven and hell. Eyes as gold as the sunless desert sands. "You can talk about it all you want, Tobias." I don't care if we win, after all, a snap of the fingers, a pouch filled with thirty pieces of silver, a handshake in a back room, that grant will end up lining the pockets of Edenbrook instead of Mass Kenmore, whether Tobias Carrick likes it or not.
I'll be going back to the Outfit, my mother's daughter, back to Antony. For I owe so much more to him than blood. Life and loyalty, and a love that never dies.
"Valentine?" Tobias waited by the door, jacket thrown over one shoulder, looking at me with a troubled question in his eyes. If I slid off the stool now, I'd have to make that choice. I'd have to face the truth about what drove me to this place, to Boston, to Edenbrook, and to stare at my own reflection in a glass of Limoncello as I counted the stars like the drops of blood in a vein, all the way down the bloody years.
Blood on my hands, blood on the sheets, washed clean by my tears.
Demoni in paradiso, angeli all'inferno.
Only the dead have seen the end of war.
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the-pen-pot · 2 years ago
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It was a strange thing, Primula Baggins thought, having a legend in the family. Oh, hobbits in the Shire were fond of their gossip, and more than one individual had become notorious across the West Farthing. Bullroarer Took was one such example, but frankly, Primula decided, he had nothing on Bilbo Baggins.
The day that Bilbo Baggins had scurried from his smial, off on an adventure, the chatter had been shocked and snide. Various hobbits had stubbornly claimed they always knew that he was odd, and that it had only ever been a matter of time. The stories in the Green Dragon had been judgemental and wild, and generally speaking, many people had assumed he'd gone as far as Bree and then been eaten by wolves or some such thing.
Prim didn't believe that for a moment. Bilbo Baggins may only be her cousin by marriage, but she knew that his quick wit was a subtle knife and his temper had always been a barb to bear in mind. He did not suffer fools gladly, and she had always believed there was more to him than met the eye.
The fact he had gone off in the first place was proof of that. She and Drogo spent many an evening wondering on his fate and wishing him well. They did their best to guard Bag End from the greedy clutches of his more stubborn neighbours, and waited to hear any news.
It was more than a year before it came, and then, the gossip reached them long before the letter.
Market Day in Hobbiton was a noisy affair, and though hobbits had little need for vegetables and such, they were eager for shiny things, as well as pots and pans. It made the occasional dwarvish merchant who stopped by on the long road from Ered Luin a real treat, and this time Mirri bore more than pretty trinkets and cauldrons to her store. The dwarrow-dam's eyes were danced with joy, and the heaviness that so often stooped her shoulders had lifted away, leaving her standing proud and tall, her iron-grey braids gleaming like silver.
'Baggins?' she said, when she overheard one of Primula's neighbours address her. 'Your name is Baggins? As in Bilbo Baggins?'
Prim had never known a busy marketplace could fall so silent in the space of a single breath. It seemed every pair of ears was turned in Mirri's direction, and there were plenty of staring eyes to join them. 'Yes?' Prim managed, tilting her head. 'He left on an adventure. Did he come your way?'
Mirri's laugh was a raucous guffaw, contagious and delighted. She slapped her thigh and beckoned Prim closer, reaching out a hand to take her own in her grasp before shaking it vigorously. 'Mahal strike me, I never thought to put it together! Everyone knows that the hero of Erebor is a hobbit. I should have known there'd been kin among the Shire-folk, but I never thought!'
'Hero? Drogo said weakly from where he stood nearby.
'He helped Thorin Oakenshield reclaim the kingdom of Erebor from the dragon Smaug,' Mirri explained, still beaming. 'A land lost to us for more than a century, won back by a dozen dwarves and a single hobbit. Then it is said he fought in the Battle of the Five Armies before saved the King and his heirs from their battle-wounds by treating with the elves.' Mirri frowned at that last bit, as if she thought it tarnished her story, before offering a shrug. 'Best of all, he won the King's heart. He is to be crowned consort next Durin's Day.'
'Bilbo Baggins?' Lobelia Sackville-Baggins sneered. 'The only thing he has ever loved is his family silver.'
'And why would he give a care for that,' Mirri demanded, 'when he will wear a crown, has a mountain full of gold, and Thorin Oakenshield's love besides?'
Prim smirked to see Lobelia's face turn as red as her bonnet, her mouth gaping unattractively. Every other hobbit in the market place was staring in shock, as if unsure whether or not to believe what sounded like a tall tale. Perhaps Prim thought it a bit fanciful, but then she remembered how much Bilbo had loved the stories in his books, and how his eyes had flashed whenever he saw a hint of bullying or injustice among his fellow hobbits. She recalled that while his father may have been a Baggins, his mother was a Took, and suddenly it did not seem so hard to believe.
The marketplace exploded into sound, gossip-upon-gossip, but Prim turned to Mirri, her grin unabashed as she offered her thanks. 'I'm just glad to hear that he is happy,' she confessed, surprised by the sting of tears in her eyes. 'I always thought he was meant for more than the Shire could offer.'
Mirri patted the back of Prim's hand in quick reassurance. 'He has found it,' she promised, 'and now I am certain there is not a dwarf in Middle-earth who does not know his name.'
'Thank you.'
It was a week later that the letter arrived. Prim came in from the garden to find Drogo sitting in his tatty armchair, his tanned face pale with shock. She immediately rushed to his side, fearing bad news, but when he looked at her, he could only offer a few simple words. 'It's all true,' he breathed. 'What Mirri said in the marketplace. He really did all that.'
She snatched the letter from his hand, recognising the curl of Bilbo's handwriting in an instant. The message was by turns happy and apologetic. He regretted his long absence and the fact he would not be returning to the Shire, but even Prim could see it was because he had found somewhere better, and had someone to share it with. Bilbo had always been a touch hesitant, but now he wrote with a confidence Prim envied. He sketched over the details of his adventures, downplaying his own role, and she stifled a smile to see how he spoke of his dwarven friends, with firm fondness and unwavering loyalty.
'He's says we're to have Bag-End,' Drogo murmured. 'And the family silver.'
'Lobelia will be furious!' Prim replied with relish. 'That's very kind of him, and now we have proof!' She waved the letter triumphantly. 'Oh, I'm so happy for him!'
'He really did all that,' Drogo repeated, sounding as if he had taken a blow to the head. Yet Prim knew the look that was sparking in his eye. It was something every Baggins needed: a little bit of fire to help them step up to the challenges of life. Drogo was a gentle soul, and people took advantage. Something told her that ended today.
'He did,' she said softly. 'And if he could, then so can anyone.' She rested her hand on his shoulder and smiled, the letter all but forgotten.
Yes, it was a strange thing having a legend in the family, but as Prim rested her hand over the child swelling in her belly, she found herself suspecting that Bilbo would not be the only one.
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jackoshadows · 1 year ago
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As a Jon fan, I’m curious about your take on this. In Jon’s dying thoughts, when he remembers Ygritte saying “you know nothing,” it comes right before his memory of Arya and right after his memory of Salsa. Stans of you know what ship say it came right after the memory of Salsa because Jon subconsciously associates Ygritte with her instead of Arya (lol). I’m a Jonerys shipper but it pusses me off when people try to diminish Arya’s importance to Jon. I think it was supposed to be juxtaposed before his memory of Arya, not after his memory of Salsa, because the text literally states that Ygritte reminds Jon of Arya and she’s clearly the most important thing to him in these dying moments. What do you think of this theory from shippers of you know what? Do you think that line is where it is specifically because of Arya, or is it just random?
Yes, this has been discussed numerous times in fandom and others have already explained the themes and meanings behind Jon's reaction to the letter countless times. It makes no difference to the same idiots who use Jon's ''What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?' statement for Sansa. As pointed out many times, the entire basis for the Jonsa ship is replacing Arya with Sansa because her character functions better as a tradfem self-insert.
Again,
Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. The Night’s Watch takes no part. He closed his fist and opened it again. What you propose is nothing less than treason. He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon’s breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird’s nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back …  “I think we had best change the plan,” Jon Snow said. - Jon, ADwD
I mean the themes are right there. There is also a possible Watsonian and Doylist implication/foreshadowing in this paragraph.
Bowen Marsh tells Jon this:
What you propose is nothing less than treason. For eight thousand years the men of the Night's Watch have stood upon the Wall and fought these wildlings. Now you mean to let them pass, to shelter them in our castles, to feed them and clothe them and teach them how to fight.
Maester Aemon tells Jon this:
“Allow me to give my lord one last piece of counsel," the old man had said, "the same counsel I once gave my brother when we parted for the last time. He was three-and-thirty when the Great Council chose him to mount the Iron Throne. A man grown with sons of his own, yet in some ways still a boy. Egg had an innocence to him, a sweetness we all loved. Kill the boy within you, I told him the day I took ship for the Wall. It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. Kill the boy and let the man be born." The old man felt Jon's face. "You are half the age that Egg was, and your own burden is crueler one, I fear. You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to do the things that must be done. Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born.”
Ygritte tells Jon this:
"We'll go back to the cave," he said. "You're not going to die, Ygritte. You're not." "Oh." Ygritte cupped his cheek with her hand. "You know nothing, Jon Snow," she sighed, dying.
Jon is thinking about what to do, what choice to make - do nothing or take down Ramsay Bolton.
He remembers Bowen Marsh talking about breaking the laws of the Night's Watch and recalls Robb as he saw him the last time with snowflakes in his hair. Jon was first tempted to desert the NW for Robb and yet returned and decided to stay at the Watch no matter what. He also refuses Stannis offer of Winterfell - where his memories and thoughts of Robb was a big part of his angst and conflict of whether he should accept. He remained steadfast in his oaths both times.
He recalls Maester Aemon's advice of killing the boy and letting the man be born - it's about being hard, making the tough choices, do one's duty no matter how painful - he thinks back to his family that he did not and cannot help by law. He did kill the boy and put duty over love.
And finally he thinks back to Ygritte and 'you know nothing' - the girl with tangled hair who reminded him of Arya and who dies in his arms because he stuck to his oaths. Ygritte died... is he okay with the same happening to Arya because his oaths are more important?
The answer this time is a resounding no.
There is also a meta connection here.
He connects Bowen Marsh's words of treason with memories of Robb Stark. Robb was famously betrayed and killed by his own men, just like Marsh will end up doing to Jon Snow
Maester Aemon does not help his family, is unable to help his family despite knowing they were in trouble and Jon connects his words with his own family and being unable to help.
And finally Ygritte - his lover, the girl he loved and lost and who dies because he chose duty over love. And Jon connects her last dying words with Arya, reads Ramsay's threats and this time, this time chooses different.
There is also a parallel of sorts here where Arya decides to hide Needle. I talked here about how Needle is Arya's identity as Arya Stark of Winterfell, daughter of the North and the Faceless Men give her an ultimatum on becoming No One.
“It’s just a sword,” she said, aloud this time … … but it wasn’t. Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell’s grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan’s stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow’s smile. He used to mess my hair and call me “little sister,” she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. [—-] The gods wanted me to have it. Not the Seven, nor Him of Many Faces, but her father’s gods, the old gods of the north. The Many-Faced God can have the rest, she thought, but he can’t have this.
Just like Jon does, Arya goes down that list and includes her father and mother for good measure - Robb, Bran, Rickon, Catelyn, Ned and even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell, it's people, Old Nan and her stories, the heart trees.
Needle was Jon Snow's Smile... and that's when she decides that the Gods want her to have Needle and she is not going to throw it away.
So yeah, it's always Arya that Jon connects to Ygritte - her body, her hair, her personality (stubborn etc.) and it's Arya who finally pushes Jon to lead an army of Wildlings against the Warden of the North.
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blackjackkent · 8 months ago
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The Hag Survivors Support Group building is locked, and there's a note in the mailbox:
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The door's not hard to pick, so in we go.
Hector immediately perception-checks a note on the table inside.
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Hm. I think we missed the meeting. Although apparently they pissed off a hag themselves, so maybe that's a good thing.
The only other things in the building are a number of leftover flyers and a "Barely-Legible Letter":
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Old Garlow's, it seems, is not far off - just on the other side of the central wall, so we'll just wander straight over there while it's on our minds. Cos based on our experience with Ethel, if these people have pissed off a hag, they're gonna need our help.
The building has definitely seen better days; there's a note in the mailbox indicating it's been condemned. In we go once again.
("Nothing but DOOM AND GLOOM in the Gazette since Gortash died!" complains a woman wandering by while we pick the lock. Well, ma'am, get ready for the front page story about THE CUTEST CAT YOU'VE EVER SEEN when it comes out tomorrow. It's gonna knock your socks off.)
Stepping inside the building, we can immediately hear some members of the support group on the ground floor talking... and a very ominous giggling laugh from upstairs.
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The woman at the head of the group - a cleric of Helm, based on her ambient dialogue - immediately rounds on Hector and his companions as they approach. "An intruder?" she snaps. "These people are under my protection. I'll not let you harm them! Hearken to my words, wicked creature. Return to the pit of evil from whence you came!"
The dragonborn in the back has the wildest head design and I love it. So round and smooth!
Oh, shit, no, we're not the hag, calm down.
Hector IMMEDIATELY likes this woman. :D
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"Calm down! I seek no trouble!" he says, spreading his hands in a placating gesture.
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"Don't listen! Who knows what spells it weaves around us! Quickly, cleric!"
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"Helm! Protecter of all! Grant me the power to ignite this creature's flesh and burn its bones to ash! Begone, monster, your hag mother holds no power here!"
Oh, she's fantastic. Can we bring her with us?
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[CLERIC][PERSUASION] "Wait--" Hector says hastily. "I'm no hagspawn - I'm a faithful adherent, just like you."
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"Wait - no hagspawn would speak like that." The woman's shoulders relax and her hand falls back to her side; she looks visibly relieved. "Forgive the paranoia. We're being hunted by a vile and wicked hag. We feared you her minion. She's already hexed one of us - and any of us could be next."
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(A/N: Jaheira looks SO SHORT compared to the party of behemoths she's traveling with. XD )
"I've fought a hag before," Hector says gravely. "No easy task."
It's odd to think back on that time, so early in their adventures. He was much more afraid then, he reflects absently. He was a different man. He's still afraid now, of course, but of much bigger, much more terrifying things. Ethel feels like a distant memory, a monster fought in a dream.
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Hope flashes through the young woman's eyes. "Really? You should join us, then. You see, all of us here have fallen victim to a hag's vicious ways. But instead of succumbing to despair, we rose above it. Thanks to Mayrina, our leader. Together, we've been helping others who've suffered at the claws of a hag. Only... Mayrina's been hexed by the very hag who now hunts us."
Oh, no way. :O
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"Mayrina?" Hector says, startled. "I know her! She was captured by Auntie Ethel!"
"You're the one that saved her? The one that ventured to the depths of Ethel's lair?" The cleric looks him up and down in puzzlement. "I can hardly believe it. You look so... normal."
(A/N: That's one of the nicest comments on his appearance that Hector has ever received tbh.)
She gestures towards the building's stairs. "By Helm, perhaps there is hope. If anyone can help Mayrina, it's you. She's upstairs... but be warned, she's not as you remember her."
...Well, that sounds ominous. HECTOR TO THE RESCUE!
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