#it’s in military bonding and has been for centuries

[rrr-is-gay]

Hello kids, today I’d like to preach to you about the deep eroticism of The Fight, because warriormale literally lives in my mind and compels me to speak.

When Ram and Bheem wrestle outside the governor’s palace, they are releasing so much sexual energy, it’s actually insane. Hell, even before the wrestling, when they’re exchanging punches, there’s this sizzling tension that they’re both too heartbroken to actually think about, but it comes out subconsciously, in how their bodies react to each other. Bheem takes each punch standing up, then fuckin smacks the shit out of Ram, knocking him to the ground, showing his dominance. Ram whips his head to the side to LEER at Bheem before deciding his next attack.

And what is his next attack? TO CLIMB UP BHEEM’S THIGH and THROW HIM TO THE GROUND so he can MOUNT HIM. Bheem does not kick out of this hold or push Ram’s body away, he ROLLS OVER, TANGLING HIS LEGS with Ram’s, keeping him close. He refuses to go on the defensive, he must stay on the attack, to overpower Ram with the strength of his thighs. This need, this primal masculine aggression, is shared by both men as they continue rolling over each other. It is such an intricate ritual!

They are so deeply, intimately familiar with each other’s bodies. Think of how Bheem yanks open Ram’s legs so he can get right between his thighs. He knows where Ram bends and folds. He’s been here before. Think of how Bheem shoves his hand over Ram’s face to hold him down, covering his lips and nose, feeling his heat and insisting upon his submission. Think of how Bheem LIFTS RAM UP dirty-dancing-style to twirl him around, embraced by his thighs, testosterone spiking like adrenaline.

There’s a raw physicality that is shared between sex and combat that’s difficult to describe to those who don’t feel it. It is so primitive, so base, it defies logic. Ram and Bheem have absolutely no reason to be turned on during this fight. They’re both utterly heartbroken, to a point where they’re basically dying inside. And yet their bodies tingle with desire; the desire to touch, smack, yank, bite, grab, hug, roll, spread, fuck. They can’t help it! That’s why they fight so close and tight, because the magnetism pulling them together is stronger than the betrayal tearing them apart.

Absolutely nobody on this earth can convince me that I’m wrong!

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Don't you think it's funny cause actual canon gay characters in BL manga will say "I love you" but only the shounen bromance can spew out some of the most romantic shit akin to a 19th century poet writing a letter expressing his surpressed love for his lover 😭.....

Genuniely can't tell if it's bait or not, but I'm going to treat this ask seriously anyway.

Here, have some examples of beautiful and poetic expressions of love in BL media!

I'm going to start with my favourite murder husbands, Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu from Word of Honor/Faraway Wanderers!

This happens in episode nine, less than one third into the story- it's that early, they've known each other for like a week and are already able to tell they're meant to be. They've made their decision to be together, and over the course of the story:

They defend each other multiple times and fight side by side in multiple episodes, sometimes protecting their adopted kid/mentee Chengling as well

Zhou Zishu is willing to go against the whole martial arts society for his boyfriend. With zero hesistation, might I add.

They both know the other has done horrible things (lots of murder on both sides here) and that's not only okay, it's a big part of why they're soulmates and get each other so well!

Zhou Zishu is slowly dying (poisoned nails in his chest, long story) and Wen Kexing can and will risk his life to save him. Don't worry, they get a happy ending both in the show and the novel even if the show's last episode is behind a paywall and Netflix didn't even include it for some reason?

But enough about them, let's move on to the immortal fantasy genre boyfriends Hua Cheng and Xie Lian from Heaven Official's Blessing!

Please note how Hua Cheng is ready to accept Xie Lian in whatever state he's currently in- as a god, a fallen outcast, even grieving and angry and at his absolute lowest. He's stood by Xie Lian in his worst moments, even if at the time Xie Lian had no idea it was him.

Hua Cheng has loved Xie Lian for 800 years, ever since he was a boy Xie Lian saved from falling to his death during a procession.

Xie Lian became a god, then fell due to horrible circumstances, almost committed a war crime against another nation that destroyed his country, spend 800 years wandering the mortal realm as a poor cultivator with his powers greatly reduced, and eventually ascended to become a god again. Throughout it all, Hua Cheng loved him and did his best to help him and then find him.

They're both adorable and the definition of a power couple once they're reunited- no spoilers, but they eventually fight an incredibly powerful god side by side and win & the last scene in the story is them reuniting for good since there's no more obstacles to their immortal love.

Let's move on to my favourite Japanese BL, Our Dining Table (also available as a series that came out semi-recently, but the examples below are from the manga.)

Yutaka is a lonely salesman who meets Minoru, a restaurant worker and his much younger brother Tane grieving the death of their mother.

Yutaka and Minoru hit it off by bonding through food they cook and share. The series is incredibly heartwarming, and as seen above Yutaka becomes a much happier person thanks to both his new relationship and big brother-like bond with little Tane.

As a little bonus, the whole found family together!

This post can't be complete without Golden Stage (or Golden Terrace, as the English official translation calls it).

Fu Shen and Yan Xiaohan aren't even in love at this point! This is at the beginning of the story, when their marriage has just been arranged by the emperor and they're still bitter rivals.

Yan Xiaohan is already protective of his future husband- later on, he also builds him a mansion meant to accommodate his disability (nerve damage in both legs, which requires a wheelchair and/or crutches). They're both incredibly powerful military generals, and the emperor was an idiot thinking an arranged marriage would humiliate them.

Of course they fall in love, of course they're a power couple, of course they send each other letters through trained geese when they're separated during the war, of course they run to each other as fast as they can across a wide cold river when they're finally reunited! Of course they're important to me!

....Aaand how about some Wangxian to wrap up this post? They need no introduction, an absolutely wonderful and complex relationship in a complex fantasy/intrigue story available in several forms - the books, the animated series (as seen above), the live action series, the audio drama, there's so much!

Some of their most beautiful moments:

Lan Wangji writing a song for Wei Wuxian and naming it Wangxian. Years after it's composed, Wei Wuxian plays it and LWJ is able to recognise him even in a different body.

LWJ begs WWX to come with him to Cloud Recesses, to safety, after WWX makes himself an enemy of the whole cultivation world for protecting innocent people.

They confront the final villain together, and work together to expose his crimes. This is also when their final love confession happens, and it's hilarious- in front of everyone's salad, WWX declares he also wanted to sleep with LWJ.

Despite censorship, the animated series was still able to allude to their wedding, showing them in red wedding robes (unfortunately can't find a gif rn)

Respectfully, if you genuinely think BL doesn't have beautiful love confessions and displays of romance, you need to find better BL.

[scotianostra]

On December *28th 1734 Scotland's famous outlaw, Rob Roy MacGregor, died at home in his bed.

*some sources say 27th.

Sir Walter Scott, portrayed Rob Roy as a dashing and chivalrous outlaw. Of course, the truth was a little less glamorous. Robert acquired the name of ‘Roy’ early in life due to his mop of red curly hair. In the early eighteenth century, Rob Roy MacGregor had established a protection racket, charging farmers an average 5% of their annual rent to ensure that their cattle remained safe. He had complete control over Argyll, Stirling and Perth and could guarantee that any cattle stolen from his customers would be returned to them. Those who did not pay regretted it …as he had them stripped of all they possessed. Rob Roy was not a man to argue with!

He was certainly no Robin Hood character.

Robert MacGregor, was baptized March 7th, 1671, at Buchanan, Stirlingshire. His parents were Donald Glas MacGregor and Margaret Campbell. He was also descended from the Macdonalds of Keppoch through his paternal grandmother. Rob’s father, Donald MacGregor, a younger brother of the chief of the clan MacGregor, received a military commission from the deposed King James II after the Glorious Revolution.

Rob was a freebooter with uncertain loyalty to James VII and was also engaged in cattle stealing and blackmail. When the penal laws against the MacGregors were reintroduced in 1693, Rob took the name of Campbell. Since his lands lay between those of the rival houses of Argyll and Montrose, for a time he was able to play one off against the other to his own advantage. James Graham, 1st duke of Montrose, succeeded in entangling him in debt, and by 1712 Rob was ruined. So Rob embarked on a career of brigandage, chiefly at the expense of Montrose. During the Jacobite rebellion of 1715, he was distrusted by both sides and plundered each impartially. After the rebellion was put down, he was treated leniently because of the intercession of John Campbell, 2nd Duke of Argyll. In his old age Rob became a Roman Catholic. His letters show that he was well educated; the view of him as a mere brutish highwayman seems not to do him justice.

In January 1693, at Corrie Arklet farm near Inversnaid, he married Mary MacGregor of Comar, who was born at Leny Farm, Strathyre. The couple had four sons: James Mor – big Jimmie -MacGregor, Ranald and Robert, violent men in their own right, but that is another story

The most controversial claim concerns Roy’s behaviour during the Jacobite Rebellion of 1715 when he allegedly betrayed his clan by acting as a paid agent to help the Hanoverian army. Previously, he had been regarded as a staunch supporter of the Jacobite cause and led his clan during the first uprising at the Battle of Killiecrankie. His involvement led to government mercenaries burning down his house.

The sept of MacGregor claimed a descent from Gregor, or Gregorius, third son, it is said, of Alpin King of Scots, who flourished about 787. Hence their original patronymic is MacAlpine, and they are usually termed the Clan Alpine. They are accounted one of the most ancient clans in the Highlands and it is certain they were of original Celtic descent.

Rob Roy was eventually caught and imprisoned,. thrown into London's Newgate Prison to await transportation to the colonies as a "bonded servant," in other words, little more than a slave. In 1726, whilst still at Newgate he received a full Royal pardon and returned to Scotland there to live out his last few years.

This he did and lived the rest of his life as a peaceful, law abiding citizen… apart from the odd duel or two.

Legend has it that when Rob was lying on his death bed awaiting his maker an old foe-man of his came calling upon him. Upon hearing this Rob rose from his death-bed and armed himself to the hilt.

"Never let it be said that any enemy of MacGregor ever saw him defenceless and unarmed," were purportedly his words. When the offending person had been shown the door, Rob is reported as supposedly saying: "Now it is all over - let the piper play "Ha til mi tulidh (we return no more)," and before the lilt of the tune had drawn to an end, he slipped away............

I know many people see Rob Roy, as I said above, as some sort of Robin Hood, but others see him as a traitor and a spy, the truth is we will never know the full story, the Walter Scott version is in my opinion romantic tosh, but it sold books for the man and gave Rob Roy and legendary status in Scotland and around the world.

Every telling of Rob Roy's story I read nowadays has a different slant, as the years roll by I try to give a slightly different slant on his life, it is up to the reader to believe their own version and to seek out more about the Legend.

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

The Music of Dolphins by Karen Hesse

Mila creates headlines around the world when she is rescued from an unpopulated island off the coast of Florida. Now a teenager, she has been raised by dolphins from the age of four.

Researchers teach Mila language and music. She learns, too, about rules and expectations, about locked doors and broken promies, disappointment and betrayal.

But the more Mila finds out what it means to be human, the more deeply she longs for her ocean home.

Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat by Lynne Jonell

Emmy was a good girl. At least she tried very hard to be good. She did her homework without being told. She ate all her vegetables, even the slimy ones. And she never talked back to her nanny, Miss Barmy, although it was almost impossible to keep quiet, some days.

She really was a little too good. Which is why she liked to sit by the Rat. The Rat was not good at all . . .

Gideon the Cutpurse by Linda Buckley-Archer

1763.

Gideon Seymour, cutpurse and gentleman, hides from the villainous Tar Man. Suddenly the sky peels away like fabric and from the gaping hole fall two curious-looking children. Peter Schock and Kate Dyer have fallen straight from the twenty-first century, thanks to an experiment with an antigravity machine. Before Gideon and the children have a chance to gather their wits, the Tar Man takes off with the machine -- and Kate and Peter's only chance of getting home. Soon Gideon, Kate, and Peter are swept into a journey through eighteenth-century London and form a bond that, they hope, will stand strong in the face of unfathomable treachery.

Dragonbreath by Ursula Vernon

It's not easy for Danny Dragonbreath to be the sole mythical creature in a school for reptiles and amphibians -- especially because he can't breathe fire like other dragons (as the school bully loves to remind him). But having a unique family comes in handy sometimes, like when his sea-serpent cousin takes Danny and his best iguana friend on a mindboggling underwater tour, complete with vomiting sea cucumbers and giant squid. It sure beats reading the encyclopedia to research his ocean report . . .

Undertow by Michael Buckley

Sixteen-year-old Lyric Walker’s life is forever changed when she witnesses the arrival of 30,000 Alpha, a five-nation race of ocean-dwelling warriors, on her beach in Coney Island. The world’s initial wonder and awe over the Alpha quickly turns ugly and paranoid and violent, and Lyric’s small town transforms into a military zone with humans on one side and Alpha on the other. When Lyric is recruited to help the crown prince, a boy named Fathom, assimilate, she begins to fall for him. But their love is a dangerous one, and there are forces on both sides working to keep them apart. Only, what if the Alpha are not actually the enemy? What if they are in fact humanity’s only hope of survival? Because the real enemy is coming. And it’s more terrifying than anything the world has ever seen.

Poison by Chris Wooding

Poison has always been a willful, contrary girl, prone to being argumentative and stubborn. So when her sister is snatched by the mean-spirited faeries, she seeks out the Phaerie Lord to get her back.

But finding him isn't easy, and the quest leads Poison into a murderous world of intrigue, danger, and deadly storytelling. With only her wits and her friends to aid her, Poison must survive the attentions of the Phaerie Lord, rescue her sister, and thwart a plot that's beyond anything she (or the reader) can imagine. . . .

Kiki Strike by Kirsten Miller

Life will never be the same for Ananka Fishbein after she ventures into an enormous sinkhole near her New York City apartment. A million rats, delinquent Girl Scouts out for revenge, and a secret city below the streets of Manhattan combine in this remarkable novel about a darker side of New York City you have only just begun to know about…

Willa by Robert Beatty

Move without a sound. Steal without a trace.

Willa, a young night-spirit, is her clan's best thief. She creeps into the cabins of the day-folk under cover of darkness and takes what they won't miss. It's dangerous work--the day-folk kill whatever they don't understand--but Willa will do anything to win the approval of the padaran, the charismatic leader of the Faeran people.

When Willa's curiosity leaves her hurt and stranded in the day-folk world, she calls upon the old powers of her beloved grandmother, and the unbreakable bonds of her forest allies, to escape. Only then does she begin to discover the shocking truth: that not all of her day-folk enemies are the same, and that the foundations of her own Faeran society are crumbling. What do you do when you realize that the society you were born and raised in is rife with evil? Do you raise your voice? Do you stand up against it?

As forces of unfathomable destruction encroach on her forest home, Willa must decide who she truly is, facing deadly force with the warmest compassion, sinister corruption with trusted alliance, and finding a home for her longing heart.

Sammy Keyes by Wendelin Van Draanen

Grams always told her those binoculars would get her into trouble. Now Sammy's witnessed a crime at the Heavenly Hotel-a light fingered thief stealing $4,000 from Madame Nashira, the astrologer with the fire-hazard hair-do. Thing is, while she was watching him, he was watching her, too...

First Light by Rebecca Stead

Peter is thrilled to join his parents on an expedition to Greenland, where his father studies global warming. Peter will get to skip school, drive a dogsled, and finally share in his dad's adventures. But on the ice cap, Peter struggles to understand a series of visions that both frighten and entice him. Thea has never seen the sun. Her extraordinary people, suspected of witchcraft and nearly driven to extinction, have retreated to a secret world they've built deep inside the arctic ice. As Thea dreams of a path to Earth's surface, Peter's search for answers brings him ever closer to her hidden home.

[mariacallous]

CUT DEEP into the innards of the southern front, Ukraine’s first underground hospital feels like something out of a James Bond movie. State-of-the-art gadgetry begins with admissions. Wounded soldiers arrive directly from the battlefield: in cars, ambulances, quad bikes, or whatever else can carry them. They are assessed and colour-coded into modules by urgency: “red zone” cases for immediate operations, “yellow zone” for other treatment. Alongside an operating theatre, enclosed in steel barrels several metres below ground level, is an intensive care unit. There is a ventilator, and even a laboratory for blood tests. The centre is set up for sophisticated operations: bone repair, soft tissue reconstruction, and even arterial bypass surgery.

In military jargon, this is a “role 2” facility, the second of four treatment tiers from frontline triage to tertiary hospital care. Doctors move people on if they can. Those stable enough are whisked off to “role 3” facilities, approximately 30km away. The rest are treated and stabilised here, a little over 10km from the contact line. The hospital’s immaculately joined wooden beams—chosen over concrete to soften shrapnel in the event of a Russian strike—project a deceptive warmth, like being in a Scandinavian sauna. The drones and glide-bombs that terrorise the skies outside make clear that this is not a place to relax. Ukraine’s medics are here, underground, not by choice. Like the soldiers they treat, they are among the hunted.

Evhen, the underground hospital’s chief medical officer, grunts at any suggestion that Russia might follow the Geneva conventions, which forbid targeting medical units. “They don’t even know what it means,” he says. To the Russian military, doctors are “force multipliers”—they patch up soldiers and send them back to fight, take a long time to train and are hard to replace. Ukraine now tells its medics to remove any markings that might set them apart. “If you put a red cross on a car, you’ll be fired on within 15 minutes.” The goal is still to get wounded soldiers from the frontline to a role 2 treatment unit within an hour, but drones drag out the process, often for hours. The delays often mean life or death; limb or no limb. Leave a tourniquet on for more than a few hours, and tissue damage is irreversible.

Ukraine believes survival on the battlefield is the key to regaining the edge in a war that has become largely attritional. The underground hospitals are a key part of the puzzle, says Roman Kuziv, the 35-year-old doctor who helped design them. A technocratic planner with experience of working as a surgeon in Europe, Dr Kuziv has quickly risen through the Ukrainian ranks: from local hospital chief to medical commander of the entire eastern and southern front. He lets data guide him to new standards and protocols. War pulses through the monitors in front of him. He claims the medical data give him “80% of the picture” about what is happening on the battlefront. Where units are well organised and where they are not. Where morale is good and where it is not. He makes a call to commanders whenever he spots a problem.

Swiping through images on his smartphone—a surreal blend of family photos and flesh wounds—Dr Kuziv reveals the brutal injuries and hard choices his teams face daily. He pulls up a photo of a man with a gaping hole in his upper body, alongside a kidney sliced in two, and a 30cm slab of missile metal that had been lodged deep in his midriff. “Did the man make it?” Remarkably, yes, he did. Another soldier, this time with a deep gash across his back, part of his spine missing, internal organs spilling out. That soldier survived initial surgery in the underground hospital, but died two days later. A third clip shows a soldier in his 30s, convulsing violently as he tries to drink a cup of water. What was up here? “Hydrophobia,” the commander says. “An extreme aversion to water.” In short, the soldier had rabies, caused by a single bite from a cat, and it was too late to save him. The army saw a handful of such cases before culling wild animals in the area.

Almost three years of war have brought Ukraine’s army doctors a mountain of unexpected challenges. Drones have largely rewritten the rulebook on battlefield wounds: the numbers are rocketing, and the attacks are more persistent, more targeted. The “golden hour”—NATO doctrine for evacuating a soldier to proper care within 60 minutes—has become something closer to fiction. Chemical weapons have returned to the field, too, with the re-appearance of agents like chloropicrin, a poison gas first seen in the trenches of the first world war. The gas, used to flush out Ukrainians from their trenches and foxholes, attacks the soft tissues of the respiratory system. At higher doses, it kills.

The demands have seen Ukrainian military medicine develop in quick time. Today’s setup is unrecognisable from seven years ago, when Dr Kuziv first began working with the army. The commander regularly tracks Russian social media to gauge how well he is doing. He’s usually happy with the comparison with Russian front-line medicine. “It’s the second world war over there.” But the demands and need to stay ahead are relentless. The ministry of defence has just approved another 20 of his “role 2” underground hospitals, which are being co-financed by an industrial sponsor. The commander is also working on an overhaul of “role 1” facilities, front-line triage units. According to his futuristic vision, these will be accessible underground by a system of mechanical elevators.

There have been mistakes, thousands who could have been saved. But Russia’s war without limits would test the resources of any military medical service, Dr Kuziv insists. “All-out war gives you one or two months to study and adapt.” NATO countries should be thinking about how they would cope, he says. “Honestly, they are not prepared. They wouldn’t know what’s hit them.”

[probablyasocialecologist]

As Sheila Ryan writes, from 1948 until mid-1973 “Israel had received the staggering sum of over $8 billion in economic assistance from various foreign sources, or $3,500 total for each Israeli – an average of $233 per year per capita in aid. Thus, an average Israeli each year received in aid alone more than double the per capita income of an Egyptian ($102 in 1969).” Between 1943 and 2023, the US has provided Israel with $160 billion in aid (with inflation adjusted reaching about $260 billion), without considering the regular loan guarantees extended to the entity that are worth billions. This aid to Israel is an investment in militarism for US-led imperialism. The peculiarity of the Zionist entity lies in it being a settler-colonial formation, as much as the US, incubating a mode of consciousness that promotes imperialist values and secures US hegemonic domination in the region. By acquiring nuclear weapons and through its numerous military attacks on and invasions of other countries of the region – i.e., such as Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, Israel has been the major force behind imperialist capital accumulation and its corollary, Arab de-development. As the Palestinian leftist circles in the 1960s-70s consistently emphasised, Zionism is the spearhead of imperialism in the region. As much as the liberation of Palestine is a struggle against US-led imperialism on whose behalf Israel acts as a gendarme, an attack on Israel is an attempt to undermine directly the core interests of the US and its reactionary allies in the region. As per the oil-rich Gulf monarchies, the control of the ruling classes of these political formations guaranteed the supremacy of the US dollar at the international level through dollar-denominated oil sales, which were then being recycled in the purchase of US treasury bonds and weaponry. In recent years, following the various attacks on the sovereignty of secular Arab republics (Iraq, Libya, and Syria), coordinated with the money and weapons of the Gulf countries, the US has also pushed an agenda of normalisation with Israel. The more Israel is recognised officially in the region, the more secure the interests of US-led imperialism are.

[hashimasims]

Hypnos: It's good that you've been able to see your friends from before all this, even if it has been limited. Have you been able to keep in touch with them besides? I know I tried calling you before coming many times but it always went to voicemail.

Elucea: Yeah, I got a new number but I didn't want to cancel the old one just yet. I have my old phone turned off though. Kanaloa, though centuries old, is far too tech savvy for my liking. Maybe it has something to do with his military career. The girls and I . . . well Paka'a isn't a girl but they're one of the girls you know. *laughs* We text and email just about everyday but taking care of all these animals and crops just monopolizes all my time and I'm just so tired ALL THE TIME even with help.

Hypnos: Being pregnant I hear is a very tiring endeavor and you adding on ALL THIS isn't really helping that. I can give you something to help you get better sleep if you'd like.

Elucea: No, that's OK. It's strange, but I like feeling tired at the end of a long day, I feel like I accomplished something. I can honestly say that being out here, doing what I do now, nothing really bothers me anymore. I haven't really gotten into my own head at all, I don't think about the past really and it doesn't seem to bother me that much. There's been a few nights so full of nightmares I couldn't sleep, but those have all but gone. And I don't . . . I remember them mentioning something about me being like them - a Goddess? - but I don't feel like one. If anything I feel like I've been acting like a petulant child throwing a tantrum with this hiding out, or like Abs, all woe is me and hiding from his problems or bitching until he got his way. Something else I would like to avoid more of. But I can't . . . I don't . . . . I mean, I do miss them and I don't want to do this parenting thing alone, but I can. It'll be hard but I just want to give my kids the best life I can and keep as much negativity away from them as possible.

Hypnos: You can't protect them forever. They are going to have to deal with some hard things as they grow up.

Elucea: I know that but I will take control of all the things that I CAN. If that means keeping Absalom and Kanaloa away to keep my home peaceful then so be it.

Hypnos: I want a few more sessions with you, if that's alright? For the most part you seem to have a level head even after all the trauma you've been through, and maybe this farm is exactly the step you needed to take to heal. It hurt them when you left but they just want to know you're OK. They want you to let them in and they want to be in your life. Together. I know to you the Bond doesn't feel like it's changed at all since you left, but maybe that's because it doesn't have to. Maybe they've been OK since then. I know what you heard, and I can see how that can make you feel, so I can't MAKE you change your mind and I don't want to, you need to make that decision yourself. You being on your own for this time really has seemed to be doing wonders for your healing and mental well being, and from the way they spoke of you I was expecting to find a small, shattered thing, not the woman that's before me today. I can tell you that you can talk to them without them getting your location, through the Bond, if you really want to get in contact with them. With it, you can Dream Walk to them and have a conversation. I can show you.

Elucea: Are you sure they wont find me?

Hypnos: Yes. Let's get you to sleep and then I can walk you through how to make the connection.

Beginning|Previous|Next

[jon-snows-man-bun]

4, 9, 16, 26 for the Vanserra Brother ask game!

Can I just say I LOVE these questions you've created? So much fun and so good for fic writers to think through. I'm popping this beneath a cut because I waffled so long. These were really thought provoking!

4. Order the 7 brothers from who has the longest hair to who has the shortest

Honestly... long hair vs short hair Eris depends on my mood and whichever fanart I've seen most recently lmao. I'm easily persuaded he looks so good in everything

Today at this moment:

Lucien definitely has the longest with the way Feyre was waxing poetic about his hair when they were running through Autumn. Eris has the second longest with the iconic Jessica depictions. Elias fifth son comes next (but not in a styled way, in a more lackadaisical dishevelled way), then Damien third son with hair below his shoulders, and finally Cato the fourth son, one of the warriors briefly mentioned in ACOTAR, with short hair.

9. Which brother looks the most like the Lady of Autumn?

Lucien for sure. I imagine this is another thing that differentiates him from the rest of his brothers, and another reason for them to be shitty with him and resent him - he really did take all of her: affection, attention, looks.

16. Rank the brothers from Most Fucked Up to Least Fucked Up by Beron

Oh man. I don't actually think Lucien comes in first, he's done a lot of trauma processing with the centuries in Spring and all his pals there as well as the BoE. He seems to be in a (mostly) healthy place now, notwithstanding the 'Jesminda was not my mate' revelation and the complicated feelings that would bring up.

In my head, Lyam the second son who was the one killed by Tamlin was definitely the most fucked up. Beron would have shaped Eris into what he believes a High Lord should be, then with the second one made a dog to both push Eris harder lest he be usurped and handle the military aspects while Eris handled the political aspects. I think this would have involved a lot of brutality, violence, and self-esteem squashing to shape him into the perfect attack dog and military leader.

Then comes Giles and Elias, the fifth and sixth sons and twins, but indirectly. I think it's accepted fanon that there was a set of twins in the Vanserra brothers and Lucien killed one of them, leaving the other one alive - I've seen this so many times and it just adds so much emotional complexity. Giles is the dead twin in my story, so Elias is completely unmoored and reliant on substance abuse instead of processing his grief and perceived failure because he's a Vanserra Man and they aren't emotional so he can't talk about it. I also imagine he had a caranam/power sharing bond in some way with Giles, leaving him with only half of his magic - we see this with Dagdan and Brannagh, the creepy Hybern incest twins, so in my head that's how twins work in Prythian.

Eris next, he has all the expectation and dealt with Beron's hyperfocus on creating a worthy heir but keeping him dependant on Beron's approval so he wasn't usurped too quickly. Toxic combo

Then Damien, the partyboy third son. Beron would have focused on Eris and Lyam and, typical ignored child, Damien would have started chasing attention in other ways - especially since I imagine the Lady of Autumn was burnt out on both Beron and her violent, unpleasant sons by that point, knowing Beron would want her to have even more.

Cato the fourth son comes next. He would have escaped to the military earliest possible convenience, and been raised by barracks in the way a lot of guys who join the military very young are.

26. Order the 7 brothers from the skinniest to bulkiest 💪

Cato - he probably started taking HGH and creatine way too young, see above point re joining the army

Then Lucien - he got the Mamaserra curvy MILF genes combined with Helion the sex god, so he's literally built different

Eris - he's currently general so he can't be too slim, but he's definitely not rippling with studly muscles you know? More of a lean, fit fencer/tennis player/swimmer type than a rugby player

Damien - wastrel party boy, court fixture, he's not out there training more than he has to in order to get people looking at him shirtless

Elias - literal wastrel, perpetually drunk, high, or hungover.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

For quite a while, the section “The Bishop in the Presence of an Unknown Light,” was my favourite bit of Les Misérables, and this was my favourite line of that section:

“A cloud had been forming for fifteen hundred years; at the end of fifteen centuries it burst. You condemn the thunderbolt.” [1500 from at little before 1800 gives you somewhere around 300 A.D.; this is far too long to be referring to the Bourbon monarchy - thanks to a friend for the idea that it probably refers to the creation of a state church under Constantine in the A.D. 300s.]

N.K. Jemisin has a line communicating what is, I think, a very similar idea in her Broken Earth trilogy, in a world that is beset by great earthquakes:

When a comm [community] builds atop a fault line, do you blame its walls when they inevitably crush the people inside? No; you blame whoever was stupid enough to think they could defy the laws of nature forever. Well, some worlds are build on a fault line of pain, held up by nightmares. Don’t lament when those worlds fall. Rage that they were built doomed in the first place.

And this us not, in some respects, all that different from what Bishop Myriel himself said in an earlier chapter:

“The faults of women, children, and servants, of the feeble, the indigent, and the ignorant, are the faults of their husbands, fathers, and masters, of the strong, the rich, and the wise…If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but he who causes the darkness.”

As I’ve learned more detail about the French Revolution, I have become unconvinced of the conventionary’s assertion that it “loosened all the secret bonds of society, made the waves of civilization flow over the earth, is the consecrecration of humanity.” If it destroyed the old tyranny and oppression, it replaced it with a new tyranny and oppression (actual several new ones, from the partisan purge to the ‘managed democracy’ to the military dictatorship); if it removed the old religious intolerance, it replaced it with a new religious intolerance. It was more willing to kill people for following their consciences than the regime of Louis XVI that preceded it, and it encouraged ordinary people to kill not rich oppressors but ordinary neighbours (ref: Murder in Aubagne by D.G.M. Sutherland, a case study on the cycles of violence that came from it becoming socially normal to kill your neighbours for being associated with a different form of republicanism than yourself, and then normal to even kill anyone who agreed with you politically but objected to the murdering).

You condemn the thunderbolt, is, I think, the more convincing assertion - if pressure builds up to a certain point, it will break, like a dam, and the primary blame lies with those who allowed it build up to that point. The argument is not that the dam breaking is the ideal, but that under certain circumstances it is inevitable. Oppression should be fought; reform should be made, firstly for its own sake became it is good and necessary and just and compassionate, and secondly to avert the damage the thunderbolt would do to the innocent; and if that reform is not happening fast enough, the answer is not to say to the suffering, “Be patient!” but to say to the powerful, “Move faster!”

[hainethehero]

Stucky headcanon of Steve and Bucky meeting in the 21st century...

"The mission is simple, get in, get the containment, get out. Minimum casualties."

Steve nods at Fury's instruction, accepting the report he'd just been handed.

"Thought this was a one-man job?"

The sound of heavy, thick-soled boots echo throughout Fury's office. Steve turns to look at James Buchanan Barnes, otherwise known as The Winter Soldier. Natasha had given him the run-down on Barnes and according to her, he was the best assassin SHIELD had ever commissioned. With over two dozen assassinations, one being a U.S president and top World Court officials making up the rest, Steve had to admit that the guy's resumé was impressive.

He rises to his feet and holds out a hand, a gesture in greeting cos his Mama always taught him to be polite.

"Hello, I'm Steve," he says with one of his best smiles.

Barnes watches him, then his outstretched hand and then turn backs to Fury with a dry look of mild annoyance.

"I work better alone. You know that."

Steve's smile drops along with his hand and he returns to his seat a little put out by Barnes's hostility. He could feel his cheeks burn from embarrassment.

"Well, Captain Rogers has been added to the scheme. He is at your disposal. And when I say disposal, I mean, he's the reason why the mission is minimum-casualty-coded."

Barnes lets out a frustrated sound, a hand on his hip. Steve takes in his black combat gear, noting the probable location of several knives and guns. He's got a black hoodie on but only one hand is gloved. Steve assumes it's simply a training preference. Natasha never mentioned just how good-looking he was, though.

Steve usually kept his attraction to other people carefully hidden beneath a veneer of indifference. Barnes just shattered it. He was Steve's height, with dark, chocolate hair that was swept up into a lazy bun, strands framing his face fashionably. His eyes were a wolfish blue, deep and intimidating. He was thick and brawny where Steve was slim and agile. Steve found himself wondering how it would feel to be under all that muscle during training.

He blushes from the absurdity of his own thoughts and looks away while Barnes continues to plead his case.

"I don't need help-"

"These orders come from the top, so there's really nothing I can do, Barnes." Fury tells him tiredly. "Now, quit pestering me and help your newest teammate get acquainted with mission training. Goodbye."

Bucky rolls his eyes and stalks out of the room before halting at the doors. He doesn't even turn around to look at Steve, but grunts,

"You comin' or what, Spangles?"

Steve hesitantly follows, heart in his throat because it was obvious this Winter guy didn't like his guts. He assumes his rep as the legendary Captain America would have some of the top guys at SHIELD skeptical, hell, he wasn't even well-liked back in his day. He vividly remembers being attacked with fruit during the USO tours. Remembers the resentment on the faces of men like Hodge and Greg, and most of the unit he'd served with until he'd earned their respect when he brought back the 107th.

If he hadn't done that, he imagined he'd be a poster boy for war bonds for his entire miserable life. He'd been to the Smithsonian, seen his exhibit and how they emphasized his time in the military. It was almost as if they didn't know there was an actual Steve Rogers underneath it all. As if they just wanted the world to know that he was all gung-ho for the war. Like he hadn't joined because he'd just lost his mother and wanted to do his best to follow in her footsteps and protect people from bullies.

Suddenly all his nerves had gone out and he was left in a state of shocked despair and depression.

It made sense for Barnes to despise him. Everything he was screamed self-righteousness.

"You comin' or what?" Bucky asks gruffly, shaking him from his thoughts. The elevator had stopped, he realizes, onto a new floor. He follows Barnes, finding it suspiciously hard to keep up with the man's quick and powerful strides.

They enter a standardized training room that's already buzzing with what Steve guesses is Bucky's team. There are about ten men milling about, some doing weights while others are working on weaponry. Steve notices one guy he'd worked with during the New York invasion with the Avengers.

"Holy shit," the man cackles, approaching them covered in sweat.

"Rumlow," he greets with a more professional air. If Bucky's reaction to him was anything to go by, he figured it'd be smarter to be professional, rather than polite. He was used to people not liking him very much.

"Rogers, didn't expect them to bring you in already."

"You knew about this?" Bucky snipes in a pissy tone.

Brock shrugs, "Heard a rumor a couple weeks ago, didn't think of it til now."

"Great," Bucky mumbles while the other guys approach them. Steve takes a step back warily, feeling a bit like a specimen under a microscope.

Bucky glances at him, eyes narrowed for a second before he talks again. "Captain, this is my STRIKE team. I'm assuming you know Rumlow, he's second in command. After him, Rollins. Wilson is one of our newer recruits but we've worked with his team before. He's pararescue. And our two specialists, Lopez and Murdock."

Lopez signs "hello" at Steve and he signs back in greeting, offering her an easy smile. Then he glances at Bucky who's eyes seem to harden and his smile drops again. Great, now his team captain thinks he's flirting with the only woman on the team.

Keep it up, Rogers. You'll be kicked out within the week.

"We have roughly two weeks to prepare for this retrieval. And now, thanks to Fury, we also have to bring Spangles into the loop." Bucky announces, matter-of-factly. Steve winces at the nickname he can already see as a permanent moniker in the very near future.

"Let's get to work."

This is for @thebrooklynnway as per my last post about Marvel villains being absolutely enamoured with "the pretty blonde himbo with big tits and a nice ass."

Also, I feel like I should write a fic about this.

[baberoe-archive]

hiiiii everyone im going to make you look at art <3 okay <3

first up we got two photos from august sander's people of the twentieth century, a decades long project he never finished aimed at identifying and organizing the "types" of people in early twentieth century germany. in photos for this project he usually identified people along socio-economic and geographic lines. on the left we have officer, world war i, cologne (1914) and on the right we have boxers, cologne (1928). museum had a bunch of sander on display and they paired it with the shortcut to the systematic life: superficial life (2002) by tsui kuang-yu, which is outside the scope of this post but super interesting so i encourage everyone to look it up lol

up next: the junkers officer (1934) by george grosz, another artist associated with neue sachlichkeit/new objectivity. im not well versed in german art but recently i have been so intrigued by leftist art of the weimar republic and it felt simply serendipitous. unfortunately by the time i saw this the museum was closing in 15 minutes so i had to rush out </3 SAD

this is air war (1944) by ralston crawford. first time i heard of this artist! during wwii he served as chief of the visual presentation unit of the weather division of the army air corps in washington dc and southeast asia.

negro soldier (1945) by robert smullyan sloan. sloan was drafted in 43 and illustrated army educational materials and posters for war bonds. the wall label says the title was given by the artist, which makes me think sloan didn't personally know this guy, which makes me very curious about the circumstances of its production. no name is given to the sitter, but he served in the european-african-middle eastern campaign in the army and was awarded a good conduct medal. sloan has a drawing at the met (station hospital [1943-44] ), but unfortunately i can't find much else about him online that might help contextualize this painting.

i think it pairs really well with this horace pippin from 1943 called mr. prejudice. pippin served in wwi with the harlem hellfighters, and the soldier at center might be a self portrait. he has a pretty good amount of paintings about the war actually -- i normally associate him with landscapes for some reason, though i think thats just because the pippin at my local art museum is a landscape lmao. his illustrated war journals are digitized at the archives of american art if you want to check it out!

up next are some pieces of interest that i want to share but about which i otherwise have little to say

L: untitled (military maneuvers at an abandoned mine) (1940-42) by harry gottlieb

R: italy goes to war (1941) by arthur dove

L: christ before pilate (1949) by david aronson. wall text wants us to note the soldier's helmet is german

R: the funeral (1949) by francisco dosamantes

ending with this delightful 1914 the wrestlers by henri gaudier-brzeska, whom the label quotes as saying, "i went to see the wrestlers -- God! i have seldom seen anything so lovely... they fought with amazing vivacity and spirit, turning in the air, falling back on their heads, and in a flash were up again on the other side, utterly incomprehensible." something about wrestling/boxing that make men gay as fuck. beautiful

[chronicangel]

lavender moon: Act 1 Chapter 4

Link to this fic on AO3. Words: 4038 Date posted: December 17, 2024 Summary:

The Dersite royal family are famed for their powerful magic, but Prince Dave does not have any. Prospit is an insular nation who believes magic to be inherently corrupting and wicked, and yet Princess Jade has magic flowing through her veins. When their marriage is arranged to end a centuries-long war, they have a lot to figure out.

Oops, I forgot to cross-post yesterday. Although I've been thinking about delaying cross-posting to Wednesdays anyway?

As the weeks stretch into months, Dave settles more into the castle, and the fondness its occupants have for him only grows. She’s caught him and John walking the halls together and chatting late in the evening after dinner more than once. She’s not sure she’s ever seen her brother bond with anyone like this. She allows herself to imagine what their lives would be like if instead of going to Derse after they were married, they simply stayed here. Maybe he could convince John to let her see Prospit as a whole under his protection. 

It’s a pipe dream, though. The longer Dave is here, the more evident it is that they’re going to be leaving soon. He pushes to see her less and less, spending more and more time with the knights and soldiers that live on the castle grounds for training. Derse’s soldiers have magic to rely on, which she imagines must require stricter training regimens. Combine that with the fact that the majority of Prospit’s military is housed in Skaia, the capital city, half a country away where Dave does not have access to them, and it’s clear that Dave isn’t only trying to train them to his standards, but trying to get them to a level where they can train others to his standards. She supposes this in and of itself must be a compromise, staying here with her rather than riding off to Skaia to broaden his impact. 

She is in the gardens with Kanaya, her fingers buried once more in the dirt, pulling the latest summer weeds away from the plants they cling to the most stubbornly. She grows several plants that serve as natural pesticides, so they don’t deal with the grubs and other insects that her books talk about watching for signs of, but she hasn’t yet found any way to keep the plants trying to encroach on her garden’s abundant space and resources away. It’s frustrating because it eats up the time that she could be spending poring over medical textbooks to find what’s ailing her father. The physicians have been visiting less frequently since Dave has been staying with them, most likely part of the conspiracy to conceal the illness from him, but it means that she has even less information to work with than she already did.

She wipes at sweat starting to bead on her forehead and feels dirt smudge from her fingers to her skin. It’s the peak of summer now, and though it’s not as hot this far north as it is in the rest of the country, Prospit’s climate borders on subtropical. There’s a dampness in the air that practically clings to her skin, only wicked away by the cool fabric of her preferred gardening clothes. With Dave staying in the castle, she’s been stuffed into nicer dresses most days, but those dresses are hot. The outfit that she wears now is simple, leaving her in only three layers counting her chemise, all of them made of breezier cotton and linen fabrics that give her skin more room to breathe and cool off. She thinks again that anyone who looked at her like this would be forgiven for not immediately recognizing her as the princess.

A shout echoes off the stone walls of the castle, less words and more like a loud grunt of pain. Jade can’t help but look up, and she notices Kanaya pause where she’s standing a few feet away watering big, bright flowers to look toward the noise, too. There’s another sound, like two objects clanking together, and then the quiet, serene atmosphere of the garden is gone, occupied instead with yells, grunts, and clacking. She supposes the knights must have started training for the day, most likely on the grounds past the little stone wall surrounding the garden. “What do you suppose it is they do all day?” she asks, and Kanaya shrugs. 

“Training, I guess,” she says eventually, and Jade can’t help but roll her eyes. Yes, obviously they’re training, but training what? What could they possibly need to drill day in and day out when they’re supposed to be ending the war? 

Jade shores up her resolve and straightens, wiping her hands on her skirt. It’s brown anyway, so she doesn’t think the dirt smudges show as much on this compared to her green ones. “I’m going to go see what they’re up to,” she declares, and Kanaya watches her for a moment like she’s debating whether or not she should intervene before she shrugs again and returns to watering the plants. Kanaya is nosy at the best of times, but Jade guesses that her avoidance of Dave, which has outlasted any of the castle’s other occupants, must outweigh that. She makes a mental note to ask her about it later. 

The air inside of the castle as she walks through the corridors to get to the other side of the grounds is cool, and by the time she gets back outside, she doesn’t feel hot at all anymore. It’s inconvenient, because she would love an excuse for the flush to her cheeks as she finds a dozen soldiers all divided into pairs, shirtless in the broad daylight and covered in sweat as they seem to spar with each other with wooden swords like children might use. 

Her eyes scan over the crowd, knights, squires, and pages, until they land on Dave sparring with Karkat. His body is covered in scars of varying sizes and colors alongside some fresh bruises on his chest and arms. His skin is glistening with sweat, but more than that, he’s so pale that he almost seems to be glowing under the Prospitian sun. Jade can see a tinge of red on his shoulders and back that paints a clear picture of him out here like this for hours each day. The thought brings a flush to her cheeks, but she can’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from him, transfixed by the serious expression on his face. She sees what the servants were saying about the complete shift in personality. 

“Sir, I’d like to request a break,” one of the pages says. She recognizes him as Tavros Nitram, the newest recruit sponsored by the Serket family. 

“Do you think there are going to be breaks at war, Nitram?” Dave says, not necessarily scolding but certainly stern. “It hasn’t even been an hour yet. Remember, next week we’re doing all of this in armor.” 

Karkat seems to spot her at this point, and he gestures to catch Dave’s attention before nodding in her direction. Dave looks at her, and he doesn’t smile at her, but she swears she can see some sort of softening in his features. She holds her head up high to mask her embarrassment at the whole scene as she approaches them, and it has the side benefit of meaning she isn’t completely eye level with his chest when she finally reaches him. “You’re very impressive. It seems that Sir Vantas got a few hits on you, though,” she says, and she grins at the face Karkat makes at the formal title. 

He’d been brought to the castle when they were both children, and Kanaya’s mother advocated for him to be a page. She had spun some story about finding him at the border of Beforus, which was under revolution at the time. He couldn’t have been older than five or six. Jade wasn’t supposed to be listening in, but her grandfather, who usually occupied her time, had only died a few months before. Her father didn’t seem keen on letting such a small child train to join the military, and Jade, desperate for a friend, had burst into the room to advocate for him. With an amused smile, the king said that someone should really keep a better eye on her, and Karkat was assigned as her personal guard and attendant. He worked diligently to rise through the ranks and become a proper knight, and as much as it hurt to watch someone so important to her grow so far away as he became more important, she can’t help but support him anyway. The only thing he’s ever wanted to be was a leader. He’s pointedly clung to his role since the day he got it, all but forcing everyone to call him by his proper title—everyone except for Jade.

She wonders what the story behind Dave’s knighthood is. She knows that it is common for princes to fight alongside their armies, to train with the knights and the soldiers so they can ride into battle, but she doesn’t think it is necessarily common practice for them to truly become knights. Was this his consolation prize for being removed from the line of succession, or is this simply the only use his family could find for him? Distaste swirls in her gut. 

“He’s a good soldier,” Dave replies, snapping her out of her thoughts. Karkat scowls for reasons Jade can’t possibly determine and walks away from the both of them. He joins the rest of the knights with a sword still in hand, apparently ready to start another spar. 

“One of the best. He’s been my personal guard for as long as I can remember. I’m going to miss him when we leave. I wish we could bring him.” 

Dave’s lips quirk at the corner, which makes her heart flutter nearly as much as his bare chest did. He is never very expressive, which means that her eyes catch on every small change to his face. He only ever seems to smile like this, as much as it can be called a smile, for her. “Vantas is a good soldier,” he repeats, and his voice almost sounds like he’s bargaining. “I’m sure he would be a strong addition to Derse’s army. I’ll make a case for him to come with us.” 

It strikes her suddenly how much she would like to kiss him. She even finds herself staring at his mouth for a moment before she internally berates herself for it and almost misses when he half-turns to face the rest of the soldiers and holds his wooden sword up. Everyone drops their swords to their sides obediently and turns to look at him for orders, and her cheeks flush again. He commands so much respect. 

“Nitram, you’ve got your break,” he says. “Everyone go cool off. Drink some water, get out of the sun. Be back here in ten minutes.” As the knights shuffle inside, he turns back to her, taking her hands in his and sending her heart into her throat. She should have washed them. He doesn’t seem to notice the dirt. “I don’t have much time to talk. Was there something that you needed?” 

She doesn’t want to admit that she had just missed him and gotten curious about what he was doing. Instead, she says, “Kanaya and I were in the gardens when we heard the training start up. I figure if I’m going to be married to the commander of an army then I should know what it is he gets up to all day.” 

He chuckles and brings one of his hands up to rub his thumb against the dirt smudge on her forehead, just like he had weeks ago. “I see that.” Her cheeks flush. 

“Will you have time this evening?” she asks before she can stop herself. “If you’re not exhausted from training,” she adds, trying to offer him an out. 

He seems to consider this for a moment, and then pulls his hands back to himself, one coming up to rub against the back of his neck. “I could probably end training a little early to see you before dinner. I’ll need to wash up first, so we might not have very long. Could I meet you in the gardens around sunset?” 

The thought of Dave bathing makes her cheeks flush and she can only hope that the tinge doesn’t show enough through her brown skin for him to see it. Thoughts of bare skin and dirty water flash through her mind before she can banish them. She nods rather than answering him verbally, and after only a moment of hesitation, practically peels herself away from him. 

Kanaya has finished up everything in the gardens before she gets back, so Jade takes the opportunity to sink into her own bath and scrub the dirt and sweat off of her skin and out of her hair. She doesn’t ask the servants to help her with this, though it increases the amount of time she has to spend washing her hair at least threefold. Flower petals drift along the surface of the bath water as she lathers soap infused with lavender and sage from her garden into her scalp. It takes two hours to fully lather soap into all of her curls, carefully wash it out, and brush them until they’re neatly separated with no tangles in sight, and another for them to dry. 

She spends the rest of the hours before Dave will be free in the library, devouring one of the medical textbooks they had acquired in the village. The section she’s in is about pregnancy, and she cannot help but think of the future of their marriage. What will they do if their child is a mage? She wonders if she should tell Dave. She knows that he does not carry the same prejudices that the people she’s been surrounded by her whole life do, but the idea of anyone finding out has such an ingrained panic response conditioned into her that even considering telling him makes her stomach twist into knots. She turns past the chapter into the next section, which is about cancers.

When the peek of sky visible through the windows is more orange than blue, she strolls out to the gardens to find Dave already sitting there. He’s dressed in casual clothes rather than the formal attire or armor she’s used to seeing him wearing around the castle, and his hair is still dripping wet. She wants to reach out and touch it, but keeps her fingers firmly locked together in front of her, instead just smiling warmly to greet him. “Good evening, princess,” he says, and there’s that familiar twist in the pit of her stomach again. 

“You can call me Jade.” She tries not to sound too hopeful, and he seems taken aback for a moment before he smiles and offers her his arm. She laces hers through it and follows him as he starts to lead her through her own gardens. He smells like soap, without any of the fancy infusions hers has. 

“In a month we’ll be married. I’ve been thinking about it,” he says suddenly, and her heart lurches in her chest as she’s struck by anxiety that he’s going to tell her that he’s decided to call the whole thing off. He seems to sense her swelling panic, because he stops them and turns to her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Relax.” She lets out a breath. “I’ve enjoyed what little time we’ve been able to spend together,” he starts, and she ignores the little thrill that runs through her before he adds, “I won’t be able to spend so much time with you when we’re living in Derse.” 

This makes logical sense to her. Even the past couple of weeks she’s barely seen him, and he’s not even responsible for the Prospitian army. There are perhaps a dozen men answering to him here, and if he trains a small group that he holds so little responsibility for so strictly, it must be even worse at home. She should be thrilled. She’ll have more time to devote to her studies, won’t have a husband pressuring her for children. So why does it feel like such a heavy weight has just been placed around her neck?

“My father sends me away often,” he says, and he tilts his head up to look at something in the space above her head. Maybe he’s just trying not to look at her. She furrows her brows as he continues, “There’s nearly always some sort of conflict somewhere, and sending in the army either sends the message to de-escalate or stops the situation before it has the chance to evolve into a problem.” 

Her mind is spinning at this information. She’s familiar with Derse’s military demonstrations at the border, but she’d figured it was a part of their extended conflict. With the war between Prospit and Derse coming to an end with their marriage, won’t he have more free time than ever? She asks him as much, and the smile he sends her is different from his usual smiles. It makes something cold ball up in the pit of her stomach. 

“Prospit is hardly Derse’s only enemy,” he says. Then, with a speculative tone, he adds, “If anything, my father might view this as an opportunity to move the soldiers stationed at the border to make moves against some of our other enemies.” Her chest tightens, and it’s not helped by him bringing a hand up to cup her cheek, a touch she can’t stop herself from leaning into. “I’m rarely home at the palace. I just don’t want you to be lonely.” 

“I’m used to it,” she dismisses immediately. She sees his eyebrows knit together and explains, “My father and John think they can lock me in a tower like a damsel in a fairytale and keep me safe from all harm.” 

“I’ve noticed that,” he says, and she tries to ignore the bitter feeling that rises up in her gut. Her father and brother have spent her entire life treating her like a damsel in distress, and now they’re going to corrupt the one person who can finally get her away from that pressure. “Why do they think you need so much protecting in the first place?” 

She hesitates a moment and pulls away from him, turning to look at a nearby bush of white roses so she doesn’t have to look at him. “Our mother got sick when she was pregnant with me. They thought it was just a difficult pregnancy, but she was so small, and then I was born so early and mother…” she trails off, shuddering, as she thinks about it. As much as Grandpa always assured her it wasn’t her fault, she can’t help but blame herself for her mother’s death. “The isolation started as a matter of safety. I was small and sickly. I struggled to breathe. If I was ever exposed to anyone who had even been near someone who was sick, I’d catch something, and then I’d be stuck in bed for weeks. I almost died several times. I suppose that they just didn’t trust it when I finally started to get better.” 

She can feel herself shaking. The air in the garden has cooled off since high noon when she’d first been outside, but it’s still warm and damp. The temperature is no excuse. “You seem cold,” Dave says anyway, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we go inside?” 

She nods wordlessly, and when she grabs one of his hands, he doesn’t make any move to pull away from her. She wants to retreat to her bedroom and hide in there for the rest of the night until all of the guilt and shame and bitterness goes away. It would be improper to bring him there with her, though, and she doesn’t want to leave his side yet. She leads him to the library instead, the large wing being perhaps as far away from anyone else in the castle as she can get sans the privacy of her bedroom. They sit on a long couch at the back of the room, leaving an empty seat between them.

They’re silent for a long time, and her mind races as she tries to think of something to say, something that she can ask him so he’ll just talk to her.

“My mother is still alive, but sometimes it feels like a part of her has died, in a way,” he confesses somewhat abruptly before she comes up with anything, and she stares at him. “Our parents weren’t especially close even when Rose and I were kids. It always kinda seemed like they were… friends, maybe? But they just kept growing apart. He barely even looks at her anymore, and she just drinks and wanders mindlessly around the halls in the palace.”

She moves a hand to rest on his knee while she tries to think of something to say, and he gives her a sad smile. Maybe mother-related trauma isn’t the most appropriate thing for them to bond over, but she hates the thought that he might feel how she feels about her mother for even a moment when his is still alive. She hates that his family seems so cold. The way that his father had looked at him during that meeting made her want to run away and hide, and she can’t imagine how it must have felt for him. She wants to kiss him again.

“I’m sure that she must love you very much.” She had hoped it would be comforting, but his face visibly tightens. Swallowing, she tears her eyes away from him and stares at the portrait of her mother hanging over the doors. “I think she must hate me, wherever she is.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she thinks she sees his eyes widen a bit. Then his face settles back into something more neutral and he looks over at the painting, too. “Was that her?” Jade nods once, her grip on his knee tightening a little bit. “You look just like her,” he says, voice so soft she almost wonders if she was meant to hear it.

“People tell me that a lot.” She can’t keep looking at the portrait, so she stares down at her hands folded together in her lap. She takes in a shaky breath and then says, “I wish I had gotten the opportunity to know her. I wish the stories people told me meant anything to me. I wish… I wish I hadn’t killed her.”

There’s a dragging moment of silence. Then, he murmurs, “There was a rumor in Derse, once.” When she looks up at him he’s still staring at the painting. “Nobody had ever seen the Prospitian princess before. People started to whisper to each other that she was dead, that Prospit was lying about there being a princess at all. It was all a ruse to move into that castle, so close to the border. They wanted to keep an eye on us, that was all.”

She feels sick again. “Did you believe it?”

When he looks at her, his smile is sad. “No. Not for a moment. I know what it’s like to be hidden by your family.”

She wants to ask him whether people still believe the rumor. It seems like the sort of thing that could be important, if they’re supposed to be marrying each other and people think she’s a fake. Then again, what difference would it make? The war would still be over, and she would still be Dave’s wife, and he would still never be king. Then, she wants to kiss him. This moment feels so intimate. It would be the perfect time. Maybe their only opportunity.

Instead, she reaches over to pull his head down into her lap and buries her fingers in his hair. It’s something her grandfather used to do when she was little, hold her head in his lap and brush his fingers through her hair until she fell asleep. It’s not a kiss, but she hopes that it’s comforting. She hopes that he can hear her thanking him for listening to her without her saying it out loud, that he can feel how grateful she is that he was vulnerable with her. Eventually, she thinks he must fall asleep like that, and when Kanaya comes to tell them it’s time for dinner, she sends her away without a word.

[rontra]

i know yr abt the girlfailure teachers rn but do u perchance have any more thots on that rhea and edelgard comic from a bit ago where Edie said she needed a healer and woke up rhea??

are you ready for a long ass post? because this is a VERY! LONG! POST!

tl;dr yes i have a fair amount of thots, and theyre all serial-numbers-filed-off chop-and-screw-it final fantasy fourteen thots. i will recap that first, and then the AU itself (final warning for Long Post)

enjoy (or avert thine eyes. it's up to you)

oh, yeah! so that au (tagged "SETR" because they can't resist an unreadable acronym tag*) began with mostly just riffing on the Scholar job quests from final fantasy 14 before veering off in order to separate from "being in ff14" (<- i simply don't feel like keeping up with all that) (<- he's just now getting to stormblood). so it's pretty much a crossover where one half of the cross had its serial numbers filed off HAHA

so obviously people who are familiar with ff14 SCH lore have a head start on this one, but let's see…from the top, let's TL;DR the stuff from the game proper:

in ff14, Scholar is a type of healer you can play. lorewise, the original scholars belonged to an ancient civilization that fell centuries before the game begins, so their art is completely extinct and lost. but back in the day, their like, marine city-state nation was at Big Magic War with a couple others (bigger nations with stronger/more plentiful mages). their smaller nation's sorcerers, too precious and few in number to risk putting on the front lines, took up dual duty to serve as both healers and tacticians/commanders. to that end, they learned to form pacts with faeries; relying on these familiars to act as their co-healers, the casters were able to give more of their focus to Studying The Art Of War (and were given the new title of Scholar for their big brain tactical caster schemes)

however, this nation and their brilliant military tacticians were wiped out by calamities (the Big Mage War they were involved in ended in huge colossal devastating floods and stuff) and their arts lay forgotten……until centuries later as [PLAYER CHARACTER] gets involved…. because of course you do <3 that's not really important though

what IS important is that at the tail end of this civilization's existence, they also had to juggle a Fucked Up Arcane Plague that one of their enemies strategically infected them with. the plague ("green death", or simply the "sickness from the sea") transformed the people into monsters and more or less demolished the standing army. the mutant plague was contained by quarantining the infected behind magical wards, but attempts to find an actual cure were unsuccessful. tormented by their prolonged isolation and the outside world's rejection of them, the plague's victims gradually became consumed with resentment, eventually depriving them of all reason. after the calamitous floods, the sealed temple--protected by its warding spells--has remained intact, but lays submerged. its transformed population has been trapped inside, alive, for centuries. yikes!

(gameplay wise, what this means is basically you have a fairy pet from the bygone era who automatically casts a basic healing spell called Embrace whenever you or anyone in your party is missing HP (<- in easy content she can sometimes do your job by herself which is very funny) and also, there's a dungeon full of monsters you feel kinda bad about killing)

the main important materials here for us are the "ancient civilization" aspect, the familiar/caster bond, and the simultaneous war/plague problem . <- list of ingredients to add some 3H sauce on

(

*here's the connecting tissue that got us from A (ffxiv) to B (fe3h)

my funny NPC retainer in the game is an au'ra woman named au'rhea (here is a pic of her). she does my banking and sells wares for me. beautiful dragon woman

while dicking around with glamourer i accidentally disguised my character as au'rhea. it was rly funny to see her running around doing stuff for once (because retainer NPCs normally Just Stand There)

i (scholar main) started glamouring my fairy to look like au'rhea so i could drag her with me on adventures (she does not get paid for this extra work)

scholar fairies can't be glamoured in this way so i had to use the ingame petglamour function to change mine into a carbuncle first. i chose topaz carbuncle because yellow is cool

somehow in the intersection between everything that's going on with my game at this point, the log window begins referring to this entity as "Topaz Au'rhea"

the groupchat starts making jokes about topaz au'rhea and scholar edelgard (apropos basically nothing). because it would be funny for rhea to run around getting super busy and stressed about keeping edie's health up while edie is aggroing every enemy on the map or whatever. you get it

Scholar Edelgard + Topaz Rhea. "SETR". incomprehensible? absolutely

)

----

so with all of that context out of the way,

this story is not set in the normal fodlan setting, so it's unclear what everyone's up to / what the current societal climate (and international relationships) of each country is (<- this would probably be ironed out if the AU was more fleshed out than it is)

adrestia and hresvelg's shared history is also a bit different, namely due to incredibly heavy losses suffered during the war of heroes. after barely surviving the war with a devastating pyrrhic victory, the newborn adrestian empire was probably uh not powerful enough to rise up and control all of fódlan lmao

without the support of either seiros OR any big Ws to pick them back up, they're probably still a smaller country (and . maybe not really an "empire" since…idk if they have the means to take and control several territories unless they 1) made a Huge Recovery since then and 2) nobody else on the continent minded that sudden expansion enough to corral them back into their pen HSBHFDF)

^im spitballing here, obviously this would also get ironed out more thoughtfully if i did more work. but that's kind of the vibe it has atm. like idk how big they would be without any strong Ws, without seiros, and without the church

it would also be an AU where there is no empire-church war to fuss around with (due to the absence of. well. the church of seiros--at least in its canon form) and rhea is not a figure in anyone's lives at all, so edie's list of priorities is much different

however because she is still an edelgard and it's important to her swag, her predicted life span is incredibly short due to an Evil Blood Curse(TM) woven in her childhood by the ancient enemies of her family (the nefarious slitherers…)

her condition is unheard of and utterly arcane to adrestia's mages and healers, and attempts to reverse its effects have been futile

after finishing up whatever other shit she had going on in this AU (<-???) (again, would be fleshed out if i had more than 1 post in the SETR tag lol), with no big wars or anything on her docket, she's already free to pursue leads on how to remedy her situation and possibly brighten her prognosis

in a handful of surviving archives private to the hresvelg family, wilhelm I wrote about the old pre-"adrestia" hresvelg territory, the war of heroes, and the allies that shored up the first army's faltering strength

he also made notes about their enemy's tactics, which included sending Curséd Plagues Most Foul, a tactic that all but demolished the pre-adrestian forces

it's not much but it's the best lead anyone's got at this point

wilhelm occasionally referenced his contemporaries' progress in combating these arcane plagues

this and the war combined take up more than 100% of their resources. they are working at a noticeable deficit, war is going rapidly downhill, and wilhelm's notes become more fragmented as the situation becomes increasingly unsustainable and dire

around this time, he also writes about mages forming pacts with "[word untranslatable to modern fódlan languages]" (but edie uses context clues to figure out it's some kind of magic familiar or something) to aid them, primarily in healing

while much of his text is either obliquely phrased or just straight up faded by time, he does pass down a swaggy amulet to his descendants, which is now in edie's possession (the "crest of seiros", if you can believe it)

edie starts investigating, referencing the texts for Important Places To Search For More Clues. starting with a place wilhelm wrote about very often: the last standing stronghold of the first hresvelg army and their allies

the red canyon.

the ruins there are thousands of years old and entirely forgotten by time. but one stubborn emperor (or whatever her title would be) is determined to search every inch of Old Fódlan for Curse Clues

deep in the lost ruins of zanado is a warded sanctum, still protected by an ancient spell. according to wilhelm the first, this was the very last and most hidden warded zone in the red canyon, erected in absolute secrecy just before their forces left the canyon for the final battle at the tailtean plains

the warded zone was left behind to protect the victims of the plague and keep the curse quarantined while the few remaining mages continued working on a remedy

despite the ward still being active, it has grown quite weak and allows edelgard to pass through (likely due to her blood connection to big wilhelm)

exploring deep into the warded zone, she finds it pristinely safe but utterly untouched for god knows how long. eerily quiet, preserved in time but abandoned by it…

at the heart of the warding spell is its caster, who edelgard initially mistakes for a human mage but quickly realized is the "familiar" wilhelm wrote about. she is Not in fact a funny heehoo imp of some kind, but in fact, a tall as fuck , Whole Ass Woman

(the untranslatable word in wilhelm's writing on the topic was obviously nabatean, a proper noun, the long-forgotten name of a people who once lived alongside humanity but were wiped out)

(the nabateans, few in number but possessing astonishing magicks, invited the battered army to take shelter in what remained of the nabateans' home in zanado. wanting to help beat the agarthans back, they offered to join their own power with humans in "pacts"--special contracts between a human mage and a nabatean caster that was beneficial for both partners and allowed them to work in great synergy)

(the pact magic, innovated by the nabateans, greatly enhances the human mage's capabilities, and imparts a certain degree of mutual mind-to-mind awareness of their partner, which the two can use to strategically coordinate their movements. although very few were left alive at this stage of the war, the nabateans were extremely powerful and could flex into any role on the battlefield--but they were also greatly prized in the sick bays and quarantine zones for their potent healing magic)

(the tactical advantage of pairing a war mage and a nabatean caster is credited by wilhelm as the key to many victories that would otherwise have been crushing defeats. also, the remaining nabateans had a vested interest in allying up to beat the agarthans down, as this was their ancient enemy who recently laid waste to the red canyon and decimated most of their population--and was about to conquer humanity as dessert)

wilhelm, the leader of the hresvelg army, formed a pact with the leader of the nabateans . the two of them combined were a force to be reckoned with (excelling in both tactics and raw force, but also defensive maneuvers), but due to how thinly stretched their manpower and resources were, the two commanders were forced to part ways at the very end. one commander was to depart with their army and finish the war, and the other was entrusted with staying back to defend zanado and keep their most vulnerable people safe

for thousands of years, rhea has been casting the same spell, maintaining the final barrier around the sanctum. the plan was for wilhelm and his (hopefully victorious) army to return here, but that uh, did not happen, due to him and his forces being annihilated in the massive effort it took to bring the war to an end

and it did end. only barely. wilhelm's descendants and whoever was left of their supporters founded adrestia proper and continued the hresvelg line into the future, but big wilhelm was absolutely dead and never came back and neither did anyone else sorry

anyway.

edelgard knows that this woman is one of the healers who were working directly on the Curse Problems back in ancient times, and is hoping she will know a solution to the "wretched curse is killing me" problem

the crest of seiros edie carries breaks the centuries-long casting trance and wakes rhea up

the first words out of her mouth are, in essence, WILHELM THANK FUCK YOU'RE BACK, DID WE DO IT? DID WE WIN?

(edelgard voice) erm about that

she basically has to explain to rhea that the last thing she remembers before beginning her Long Watch was, in fact, thousands of years ago, and that wilhelm and everybody else she knew is dead (on top of all the nabateans and allies rhea already knew were dead ofc). the world did manage to survive the war thanks to their efforts, but that's like, the one positive note in all this, lol

rhea understandably distraught and more than a little bit overwhelmed

also quite at a loss for what to do, being a magic guy from an era that in its entirety doesn't exist anymore (and hasn't existed for a very long time)

for all she or edie knows, she might be the very last of her kind (since all records are lost, wilhelm's notes obviously stop kind of abruptly, and no one's heard anything in the millennia since then)

obviously the amount of time that has passed means the people she was holding the ward for are also long gone. she's pretty devastated about that too as they're going through the sanctum and quarantined zone

edelgard trying to tactfully rummage around for clues for her own problem while the big lady spirals

i straight up feel like one of those plants that evolved for a type of bee that doesn't exist anymore

however rhea sadly must return the favor when edelgard is like. so you guys had this curse problem. and you were a very prominent commander/healer at the time. it so happens that i have curse problem. what is the solution to curse problem. i need it badly

and rhea is forced to be like . well we very much did not solve curse problem in my time. sorry. i don't know it. i don't have the solution. we didn't find it in time before our whole shit collapsed

so it's really bad news all around

but because edelgard is wilhelm's blood descendant and has used the crest of seiros (which marks the pact between wilhelm('s blood) and the nabatean rhea), they are pact-partners now, Just Like Old Fódlan Used To Make

rhea can't crack Terminal Blood Curse right now, but she does have a lot of knowledge about it and its course/symptoms (and she can confirm edelgard's problem as being The Very Same Indeed)

she feels pretty strongly about finishing her work, and is suddenly edelgard's funny pact partner, and third of all has Nowhere Else To Go And Everything She Knew Is Gone--so she says she'll help lmao

edelgard is more or less used to not finding concrete answers to her curse problem at this point given the difficulty level of this investigation. so she p much just moves on to the next lead on her checklist. gotta keep it moving if she's gonna crack this thing in time

road trip!

rhea basically provides her with palliative care while they look for ways to break the curse. she does feel noticeably better with a more specialized healer (<- kind of an understatement) and it is buying her more time to work with which is good

strangers separated by millennia of history but slowly bonding!

maybe on the way they'll also root out the bitches who put the curse on her to begin with

if you are out there slithering in the dark. you better not be

finally,

edelgard is a big axe guy. she does not do healing magic. she is basically face-tanking everything and rhea is so busy casting heals and shields she barely has time to do any DPS of her own

im sure they run into other characters n stuff on their funny road trip too but that all is the basic concept

(rhea voice) i'll Embrace but christ alive

[the-muses-are-raging]

Whenever someone tries to tell you being gay is unmanly, remember the Sacred Band of Thebes, a troop of soldiers, formed in 4th century Greece, composed of 150 same sex couples, by Gorgidas and later general Pelopdias. The rationale behind this deliberate decision was that deep personal bonds between the soldiers would inspire them to fight more fiercely than strangers would, and was possibly inspired by Plato's famous passage in the Symposium, speaking of an army of lovers. (see below) there is dispute when this work was written, but is usually dated to be from around 385 BCE, and if that is correct, it may have influenced Gorgidas

¨For what lover would not choose rather to be seen by all mankind than by his beloved, either when abandoning his post or throwing away his arms. He would be ready to die a thousand deaths rather than endure this. Or who would desert his beloved or fail him in the hour of danger? The verist coward would become an inspired hero, equal to the bravest, at such a time; Love would inspire him. That courage which, as Homer says, the god breathes into the souls of some heroes, Love of his own nature infuses into the lover. Love will make men dare to die for their beloved-love alone; and women as well as men¨

Its possible that there was an earlier force of exclusively gay couples, and that the Sacred Band was just the most famous one. The historian Louis Crompton has said

¨In classical Greece, not only Athens but cities with every kind of constitution took notice of the fact of male love. Aristocracies where the privileged few held sway recognized its power to forge bonds between promising youths and conservative mentors. Democracies saw it as insurance against tyranny. Tyrants sometimes forbade it…But the major source of its prestige remained its contribution to military morale. In the fourth century this heroic tradition found its most famous embodiment in the so-called hieros lochos, the Sacred Band of Thebes…Its success was to make Thebes for a generation the most powerful state in Greece, and its fate was in the end the fate of Greece itself.¨

Plato and Crompton are both referring to the classic model of male couples, where the older man (the erastes, meaning ¨be in love¨) nurtured and taught the younger man (the eromenos, meaning ¨one who is desired¨).

 Gorgidas chose the 300 men himself, without regards to social class, but by their skills and reputations as fighters. Their first battle was during the Boeotian War, in 378-371 BCE, against the Spartan army under king Agesilaus 2. The Theban army and their Athenian allies were outnumbered and as the Spartans advanced, the Athenian general Chabrias ordered his men to stand down and assume the ¨at ease¨ position, with the spear raised and the shield held down at knee level. The Sacred Band followed suit, and the Spartans, made nervous by this show of confidence withdrew

 The Sacred Band fought for 40 years, from 378-338 BC, and marked the emergence of Thebes as a powerful fighting force in ancient Greece. The Sacred Band once again fought the Spartans at Tegyra, late 375 BC, -commanded by general Pelopdias with Gorgidas disappearing from the record of history, thought to have been killed just before the battle- defeating an army three times their size, as well as playing a large part in establishing Thebes from Sparta by winning the battle at Leuctra in 371 BC. They were eventually defeated in 338 BC, at the Battle of Chaeronea, against Philip 2 of Macedonia and his son, Alexander the Great. Reportedly, after the fight, Philip looked at the fallen army and wept, realizing it was the band of lovers. 38 years later, around 300 BC, the town of Thebes built a giant stone lion on a pedestal at their burial site, which still stands today. Excavations of the site in the 19th century uncovered the skeletons of 254 men laid out in 7 rows, and have been identified as the remains of the Sacred Band. While the Sacred Band was never reformed, and the Battle of Chaeronea gave Greece to Philip 2, their legacy lived on, as the inspiration for the army of Alexander the Great, who went on to conqueror Persian Empire, and nearly the whole world. 

The Sacred Band of Thebes is often overlooked in discussion about ancient Greece and warfare, possibly because the imagery of a victorious, all gay, fighting force, is at odds with present day homophobia, defying the stereotype of weak, effeminate men.

[mac-lilly]

Arranged marriage Juke AU

Let’s start the week with a juke au: An arranged marriage/enemies-to-reluctant-allies-to-friends-to-lovers au for juke. (Inspired by this whiny post.)

Won't be around for Juke Jeudi this week. So happy Lulie Lundi! (I blame @thedeathdeelers for that term.😛)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Setting: ~18th century

The two kingdoms of Los Feliz and Hollywood have been at war for decades, and recently, Queen Rose's life fell victim to the armed conflict.

To end the war, King Caleb makes a shady proposition: A marriage should tie a bond between the kingdoms.

King Ray strictly opposes the idea, of course. But to his utter horror, his daughter, Princess Julie, accepts. After her mother's death, she's become a ghost of her former self. Since her mother's death, she's barely smiled and has banned music from her life. If this deal spares the lives of the innocent, she's happy to sacrifice herself by marrying the Prince of the enemy kingdom.

But since Caleb does not have an heir, he picks one of his minions to fill the role. For whatever reason, he chooses his most rebellious soldier.

At the age of 15, Luke runs away from home to pursue his dream of becoming a musician. As King Caleb has a reputation for valuing and supporting music, he travels to the capital.

Surprise ... It's a trap to lure in young people.

Upon his arrival, he's immediately drafted into Caleb's army.

Over the next three years, he attempts to desert multiple times. But he gets caught every time. And when he gets summoned to the king after his latest failed attempt, Luke's convinced that this time his punishment will be much more severe.

It is ... kinda. Luke isn't thrilled to become a pawn in Caleb's plan but ultimately has no choice. Either he plays along and marries the Princess, or his friend Bobby will be hanged in his stead.

So, the wedding happens. And it's an awkward and strange wedding with the atmosphere of a funeral. Nobody is very happy to be there – except for Caleb, who is sickeningly cheerful for the entire ceremony.

Afterward, both kings announce a truce, and to celebrate the fragile peace, the newlywed "couple" gets to tour through both kingdoms.

Which is even more awkward than the wedding because Julie and Luke can't stand each other. Even after volunteering, Julie still despises Caleb and his actions and believes Luke must be as bad as his king. Plus, his constant guitar playing and singing irritate her because it stirs up painful memories. (After her mom's death, she's banned music from her life.)

Meanwhile, Luke's too worried about his friend to care much about a moody and (presumably) snobbish princess.

However, despite their mutual dislike for each other, in public, they delinquently play their roles.

Until they get attacked.

Soldiers set an inn they were staying at on fire. However, Julie and Luke manage to escape the death trap and flee.

They argue about whose country is to blame. (Although Luke already has a sinking feeling regarding the identity of the real mastermind. But keeps his mouth shut.)

The duo proposes a temporary truce as they try to figure out what to do next. After all, the assassins are probably still after them.

The usual road trip stuff happens from here on.

As they travel aimlessly around the country, they get to know each other and eventually build trust. Julie confesses that she hates hearing him play because she associates music with her mother's death, and it hurts. To her surprise, he respects her feelings and doesn't play when she's in earshot.

Luke, in return, tells her bits of his story – that he left home to become a musician but then accidentally joined the military. He omits the real reason why he agreed to the deal, though.

As time passes, their alliance slowly morphs into a friendship which then evolves into a much more complicated and deeper bond.

Julie's fascinated by his personality. His charisma and charm, his passion for music, his untamable energy -- it's highly infectious, and suddenly she finds her heart filled with so much life and joy again. His support gives her the strength to enjoy music and eventually sing again.

And Luke's awe-struck by her voice. And her beauty. And her intelligence. And her bravery. And her kindness.

In short, he is totally SMITTEN with her.

Especially after she helps him write down his songs since he never got much education and his reading and writing skills are rudimentary. 

And at least once, they pretend that Julie's pregnant to hitch a ride to the next village.

While they travel, they make plenty of new friends who tag along: A runaway lord, a wannabe trickster, a badass huntress, and an ex-soldier.

They escape death a few more times, btw.

And every time, they celebrate their success.

And it's during one of these celebratory gatherings (and maybe they are a bit tipsy when it happens) that Julie and Luke share their first (real) kiss under a starry night sky.

And then they never talk about it …

There's also some betrayal happening because Willie and Bobby need a plot too. (Willie is a spy; Bobby is brainwashed, and Carrie leads a group of female bandits.)

Anyway, they eventually come across a small fishing town, which happens to be Luke's hometown.

Julie visits his parents for him and later assures him that they are alright, although they do miss him and are worried. Luke promises to return and talk to them one day.

Then they learn that Caleb is using their disappearance to justify another attack on Julie's kingdom.

Julie's mad at Luke, believing he's been in the cahoots with Caleb all the time. So, Luke tells her the truth. He also tells her about his rising suspicion that this has been Caleb's plan from the beginning: Kill Luke and put the blame on Julie. Then execute her for murder to break her father's will.

At first, Julie's furious that he withheld the information from her. But she understands that his intentions were noble. They decide to return to Julie's castle.

There, they get separated, and a very, very angry Ray is about to sentence Luke to death for kidnapping his daughter until Julie intervenes.

They explain the story, and Ray apologizes.

He also announces that the marriage will be annulled once the war is over, which shocks Julie and Luke because they've never talked about their feelings.

They FINALLY confess their love

JUKE KISS

Ray is super-duper proud of his daughter.

The marriage won't be annulled.

In fact, there'll be another wedding because Caleb's presence totally ruined the first one.

MORE JUKE KISSES.

AND FOREHEAD TOUCHES.

AND NOSE RUBS. AND HUGS.

And then, they develop a plan to get rid of Caleb.

(More plot happens here that's not really Juke-relevant)

They defeat Caleb, the war ends, and they all live happily ever after. 

(And maybe they travel the lands after they exchange vows again, and maybe this time they do not have to pretend that Julie's pregnant to hitch a ride.)

The end.

[shiorihyugawrites]

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? (Levi x OC)

Chapter Ten

The grand corridors of the Imperial Palace seemed endless, each hall more opulent than the last as the scouts followed Chancellor Benedict through the maze of marble and gold. The ceilings stretched high above, adorned with elaborate frescoes depicting Valoria’s history—great battles, royal coronations, and the flourishing of the empire. The walls were lined with tapestries of rich, vibrant colors, and the floors beneath their feet were polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting the sunlight that streamed in through tall arched windows. Everything about the palace spoke of wealth, power, and a legacy stretching back centuries.

The scouts were in awe. Though they had seen the royal palace in Paradis, nothing compared to the grandeur and sheer scale of the Imperial Palace of Valoria. It was a place that seemed almost too magnificent to be real, a living testament to the empire’s long-standing dominance in the world. Jean and Armin exchanged glances of quiet amazement, while Hange’s gaze wandered over every detail, her eyes bright with curiosity. Even Levi, ever stoic, took a moment to glance up at the ceilings, noting the intricate artistry above.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Chancellor Benedict’s voice echoed through the vast corridor, a hint of pride lacing his tone. He walked with his hands clasped behind his back, his pace measured and dignified. “The palace has been the seat of the Valorian Empire for nearly a millennium. Each ruler has added something of their own to its structure. You are walking through history, my friends.”

The scouts followed in silence, taking in the Chancellor’s words as they continued through the halls. Occasionally, they would pass by guards stationed at strategic points, their polished armor glinting under the lights. The presence of so many soldiers was a constant reminder that despite the palace’s beauty, it was still a place of power, where security and control were maintained with a firm hand.

As they turned a corner, a different kind of space opened up before them—an expansive courtyard, filled with greenery and flowers that seemed to bloom in every color imaginable. The air was fresh, scented with roses, lavender, and other fragrant plants, and the sound of trickling water from various fountains filled the courtyard with a calming ambiance. It was a striking contrast to the ornate interior of the palace, like stepping into a different world.

“This,” Chancellor Benedict said, pausing to let the scouts take in the sight, “is the entrance to the royal gardens. The consorts and the royal children reside here in their respective Houses—Rose, Lily, Dahlia, and Peony. Each has its own mansion, with lush gardens and private courtyards.”

The scouts looked on with interest. Beyond the entrance, they could glimpse tall hedges and stone pathways winding through the gardens, but the true heart of the area remained hidden from view. Rows of guards stood vigilantly at the perimeter, their expressions stern as they monitored the entrances. It was the most heavily guarded part of the palace they had seen so far, with soldiers patrolling at every corner and even on the walls above.

“Only the Emperor and his immediate family are permitted entry into the gardens,” Benedict continued, his tone lowering slightly as if to emphasize the exclusivity of the area. “Of course, there are staff members for each House, but even they are subject to strict rules. The royal gardens are, in essence, a sanctuary—a place where the Emperor’s children can grow up away from the public eye, shielded from outside influences.”

Hange raised an eyebrow, her curiosity evident. “Why all the secrecy?” she asked. “I understand wanting to protect the royal family, but it seems… excessive.”

The Chancellor regarded her with a measured expression. “It is not merely secrecy, Commander Zoë. It is tradition. The Emperor’s consorts and children are considered the heart of Valoria, and their well-being is paramount. They are not merely nobles—they are symbols of the empire’s strength and unity. Their safety is of the utmost importance, and the gardens provide them with a place of peace, free from the watchful eyes of the world.”

Armin, ever thoughtful, glanced at the guards, then back at the Chancellor. “So, not even the highest-ranking officials or members of the court are allowed inside?”

“Correct,” Benedict affirmed. “The gardens are a place reserved for the Emperor’s private life. Even I, as Chancellor, do not enter unless specifically invited. It is one of the oldest customs of our empire, and it has remained unchanged for centuries.”

Jean leaned closer to Hange and whispered, “Guess that means we won’t be getting a look in there anytime soon.”

Hange smirked. “Oh, you never know, Jean. We seem to have a knack for getting ourselves into places we’re not supposed to be.”

As the tour continued, the scouts were led further along the courtyard, skirting the edge of the royal gardens. They could make out glimpses of the different Houses through gaps in the tall hedges—the Rose House with its vibrant red blooms and cascading trellises, the Lily House with its pristine white flowers and tranquil reflecting pools, the Dahlia House surrounded by rich purple and gold foliage, and the Peony House, with its delicate pink blossoms and winding stone pathways. Each mansion had its own distinct character, its gardens reflecting the personalities and legacies of the consorts who resided there.

Levi’s eyes lingered for a moment on the Rose House, where he knew Solina lived with her family. He could see the tops of the tall windows and the red roses that bloomed abundantly along the outer walls. The place looked peaceful, almost idyllic, and he found himself wondering what life was like within those carefully guarded confines. He imagined Solina there, walking among the flowers, practicing her music in one of the gazebos, and for a moment, he could almost see her standing by the fountain, her red hair catching the sunlight.

“Captain Levi,” Chancellor Benedict’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “I believe you’ll find the palace ballroom particularly interesting. It is the largest in the empire and will host your engagement ball in a week’s time.”

Levi tore his gaze away from the gardens and nodded, his face as impassive as ever. “Lead the way,” he replied curtly, though he couldn’t shake the image of the Rose House from his mind.

As they resumed their walk, the scouts shared quiet glances, each of them reflecting on the strict boundaries that seemed to separate the palace’s private world from the rest. There was a clear divide between those who belonged to the Emperor’s family and those who did not, and the walls of the royal gardens served as a physical manifestation of that divide. It was a reminder that while they were guests in Valoria, they were still outsiders in many ways.

As they approached the next section of the palace, Hange’s curious gaze wandered back toward the entrance to the royal gardens one last time. She couldn’t help but feel there was more to this place than met the eye, something hidden beyond the hedges and the carefully controlled environment. She didn’t know what it was, but if there was one thing she had learned over the years, it was that secrets often hid in plain sight, just waiting to be uncovered.

With that thought lingering in the back of her mind, she turned her attention back to the Chancellor, who was already launching into a detailed explanation of the upcoming festivities and the history behind the grand ballroom. As much as the palace’s grandeur captivated them, there was an underlying sense of purpose in their tour. They weren’t just here to admire the beauty—they were here to learn, to understand the place and its people, and to prepare for the important events that lay ahead.

And though the scouts remained outwardly composed, they were all too aware of the delicate dance they were performing—both within the palace walls and in the negotiations to come. For now, they would continue to play their roles, learning what they could as they walked through the halls of the most powerful empire in the world.

…

As the scouts continued their tour with Chancellor Benedict, the air was suddenly filled with the sounds of gleeful laughter and the rapid patter of small feet. The noise grew louder until two young children burst into the corridor, giggling as they dashed down the polished marble floor. It was Princess Solenne and Prince Solandor, the younger siblings of Princess Solina, and they were currently being pursued by their exasperated governess, who struggled to keep pace with their boundless energy.

The twins, dressed in fine clothes that still somehow looked a little disheveled from their antics, came skidding to a stop as soon as they spotted the group of newcomers. Their bright green eyes widened with excitement as they recognized Levi, who stood in the middle of the scouts, his expression as stoic as ever. Without hesitation, they charged toward him, their small feet pounding against the floor in a chaotic rhythm.

“Look Solenne, it’s Captain Levi!” Solandor exclaimed as he reached Levi’s side, his voice filled with awe. “Are you really Humanity's Strongest Soldier?”

“Did you really fight all those Titans?” Solenne added, her eyes wide with curiosity as she bounced on her toes. “How many have you killed? Can you show us how to fight Titans too?”

The questions came at Levi in rapid-fire succession, one after the other, as if the twins had been waiting for this very moment their whole lives. Their excitement was palpable, their small faces alight with admiration as they looked up at him with the kind of unfiltered wonder only children could have.

Levi blinked, caught slightly off guard by the sudden onslaught of questions. He glanced at the Chancellor, who merely raised an eyebrow in amusement, then at the other scouts, who struggled to hide their grins at the sight of the normally composed Captain surrounded by two enthusiastic children.

Before Levi could muster a response, the twins’ governess finally caught up, her face flushed from exertion and her breaths coming out in small gasps. “Your Highnesses!” she exclaimed, trying to catch her breath. “What have I told you about running in the palace? It is most unbecoming! And—” She turned to Levi, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment as she realized who the children were talking to. “Oh, Captain Levi, my deepest apologies. They can be rather… energetic. I didn’t mean for them to bother you.”

The governess quickly moved to usher the twins back, but they dodged her attempts, still standing eagerly in front of Levi. “We’re not bothering him!” Solandor protested, crossing his arms with a defiant pout. “He’s going to marry our sister, so that means he’s going to be our brother too. That means we can ask him things, right?”

“Yeah!” Solenne chimed in, nodding vigorously. “He’s not a stranger, he’s practically family now.”

Levi’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile but not entirely the stern expression he usually wore either. There was something about the twins’ unguarded enthusiasm that he found oddly endearing, even if he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to it. He knelt down slightly, bringing himself closer to the twins’ eye level, his gaze steady. “I have fought many Titans,” he said, his tone calm. “But fighting isn’t something to be taken lightly. It’s dangerous, and it’s not just about swinging a sword.”

The twins listened intently, their eyes still sparkling with curiosity, though their expressions grew a bit more serious at Levi's words. “Then how do you become the strongest?” Solandor asked, his small brow furrowed as if he were contemplating something of great importance. “If it’s not just about fighting?”

Levi glanced at the scouts and Chancellor Benedict, who were watching the exchange with a mix of amusement and genuine interest. Then, he looked back at the twins. “You become strong by practicing, by learning from your mistakes, and by protecting the people you care about,” he explained. “It takes more than just strength. You need to be smart, too. And sometimes, it’s more important to know when not to fight.”

Solenne tilted her head, clearly thinking hard about his words. “So… you’re saying we have to train a lot?” she asked, her voice hopeful. “Does that mean you can show us some cool moves, Captain?”

The governess, now thoroughly flustered, quickly stepped in before the children could make any further demands. “Your Highnesses, that’s quite enough,” she scolded gently but firmly. “It is very rude to pester someone with so many questions. Captain Levi is here as a guest, not as your personal instructor.”

Solandor puffed out his chest, his expression determined. “But he’s going to be family soon, isn’t he? And brothers are supposed to help each other get stronger.”

At this, Chancellor Benedict chuckled softly, unable to suppress his amusement. “The young prince does have a point,” he remarked to the scouts, a twinkle in his eye. “It seems Captain Levi has already made quite the impression on the royal children.”

Hange nudged Armin playfully and whispered, “Looks like Levi has some fans. Who would’ve thought?”

Jean grinned, his eyes flicking toward Levi. “Better get used to it, Captain. Looks like you’ve got some new responsibilities coming your way.”

Levi shot the scouts a brief, warning glance before returning his attention to the twins. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, his voice low but not unkind. “If you both promise to listen to your governess and not cause any more trouble today, I might show you some moves the next time we meet.”

The twins’ faces lit up with joy, and they both nodded vigorously. “We promise!” they exclaimed in unison.

The governess, looking both relieved and grateful, finally managed to pull the twins away. “Come along now, Your Highnesses,” she said, her tone softer but still firm. “Thank you, Captain Levi, for indulging them. And I do apologize once again for the interruption.”

As the twins were led away, they turned back to wave at Levi and the scouts, their small hands fluttering in the air as they disappeared down the corridor.

Chancellor Benedict resumed the tour, a small smile on his face as he glanced at Levi. “Well, Captain, it seems you’re already winning over the younger members of the royal family.”

Levi merely grunted in response, his expression as impassive as ever, though there was a faint glimmer of something softer in his eyes as they continued on their way. As they moved further away from the royal gardens, the faint laughter of the twins could still be heard echoing through the halls, a reminder of the small but meaningful connections that were beginning to form in this strange, opulent place.

…

As the tour wrapped up, the scouts made their way back to their quarters, their footsteps echoing down the palace’s grand corridors. The sheer size and splendor of the Imperial Palace were still settling in, leaving an impression on each of them. Tomorrow would bring more meetings with the Emperor and the Valorian officials—discussions about military support, the mining of ice burst stone, and the terms of the alliance. It was just the beginning of their negotiations, but Levi’s thoughts had already drifted elsewhere.

Back in his room, Levi sat down on the edge of the bed, letting the silence of the evening surround him. His room was spacious and lavishly decorated, with tall windows that offered a view of the palace gardens below. As he unbuttoned his uniform and changed into a plain shirt, he couldn’t help but think about his interactions earlier that day with Solina’s younger siblings, Solenne and Solandor. The memory of the twins’ eager questions and bright eyes lingered in his mind, their voices still echoing faintly in his ears.

Levi lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a pensive expression. The thought of the twins brought with it a strange sense of warmth, but also a deep unfamiliarity. He had spent most of his life in a world of harsh reality, surrounded by war and loss. Family had always been a concept that felt distant, almost foreign to him. Outside of his mother, Kuchel, and a brief time under Kenny's rough care, he had never truly experienced what it meant to have a family in the traditional sense. Now, he was about to marry into a very large and complicated family. He would not only gain a wife in Solina but a host of new relatives—siblings-in-law, a father-in-law in the Emperor, and even the Emperor’s consorts, who would technically become part of his extended family.

The idea of having so many in-laws felt overwhelming. He thought back to Solina’s younger siblings and how easily they had accepted him as part of their family, even if it was still unofficial. It was something Levi wasn’t used to—the idea of belonging somewhere. It wasn’t just that Solina had a large family; it was that they seemed to care for each other, to have bonds that extended beyond duty and obligation. He had caught glimpses of it already, in the way Solina looked up to her older brother Solomon, in how her mother, Lady Solana, seemed to exude warmth and care toward her children. And now, even the youngest of them had already welcomed him, in their own way, with their innocent questions and admiration.

He closed his eyes, the mattress soft beneath him as he tried to let his mind rest. Tomorrow would bring another dance lesson with Solina. He remembered the way she had blushed when they danced, the delicate way her hand felt in his. There was a gentleness about her that stood out in sharp contrast to the life he had known. In many ways, she represented a world that was entirely different from his own—a world of refinement, music, and family. Yet, as different as she was, there was something that intrigued him about Solina. Perhaps it was the way she seemed to carry a quiet strength beneath her shyness, or the way she spoke with warmth about the things she cared about.

A soft sigh escaped Levi’s lips as he turned onto his side, pulling the blankets over himself. He wasn’t one to dwell on uncertainty, but it was hard not to think about what lay ahead. This marriage, this alliance—it would change everything for him. For the first time, he would be stepping into a role that wasn’t defined by war or combat, but by family and partnership. The thought was almost daunting, but it was also... intriguing.

As he lay there, his thoughts began to drift once more to the faces of Solina’s siblings, especially the twins. He wondered what it would be like to protect a family—his family—not just from Titans or enemy soldiers, but in a more personal sense. To watch out for them, to support them, to see them grow. It was a strange thought, but for a brief moment, it didn’t seem so impossible. And then, his mind circled back to Solina, and the fact that he would see her again tomorrow. Their paths were now intertwined, and whether he liked it or not, he would have to face whatever came next together with her.

With that final thought, Levi closed his eyes, his body sinking into the softness of the bed. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and with it, new challenges and moments that would further shape the path they were both now walking. As sleep slowly claimed him, he wondered if, perhaps, it was possible to find something real in this strange new life—a future that was no longer just about duty, but also about something more.

~

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