#we hope you like symbolism

[theoldkyokodied]

One wedding and three funerals

Background paintings under the cut

[jkvjimin]

"my happiness started when I met rapmon hyung" for @jung-koook ♡

[im-smart-i-swear]

coming back home.

@barrenclan

[lxvi-gloria]

Drabble Prompt: Post-canon Levi, struggling with chronic pain and mourning his dead loved ones, being visited by his still alive loved ones

Anon, you knew how to talk pretty to me <3

hihi requests are still open btw

I feel like I gotta put a disclaimer or something lmao. So, the length of my drabble requests is usually something between 100-400 words. This request is just an incredibly unexpected exception. it just happened to fit into this idea I already had been thinking of, which was how the remaining 104th would ask Levi to be part of important events in their lives because well, they like the dude lmao, so expect that sort of one-shot soon. Additionally, since I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be a drabble, I might have glossed over the chronic pain and mourning bits so I'm sorry about that ;;

that being said, 2.4k words of Levi and Gabi be upon ye <3

Now on Ao3!

The angry hissing of the kettle makes him flinch. It brings a loud ringing to his right ear. Instinctively, he places his right hand over it, and gives his ear a couple of gentle taps; it's more of a grounding gesture, a distraction from the buzzing. He usually keeps watch over the kettle, so that he can lower the heat just right before it gets a chance to scream at him. 

He realises then that he must have spaced out while waiting. It’s alright, he thinks. It’s been like that a lot, recently. He’s been like that. Lost in thought-- lost in time, if he allowed himself to be precise. The last days, weeks even, as the temperatures started to drop, blended into each other. There’s a little calendar on his bedside table, it had been a birthday gift from Armin – or had that been Mikasa’s? He isn’t sure, he had received an absurd number of presents from the kids last year, it had been hard to keep track of who gave him what and now the fact escaped him. Turning the pages of the little calendar, with its delicate botanical illustrations on each day, quickly became part of his morning routine, and so he was sure that time was passing at all. The stillness of the routine, he guesses, made him like this.

His vision blurs momentarily while he scoops the tea leaves into the teapot. He squints, trying to will his good eye to focus, but all he gets in return is a throb in his right eye. After putting the tea canister away, he presses the inner sides of his wrists to both eyes, placing just enough pressure to relieve the discomfort. When he opens his eyes again, he is pleased to find he can read the small print on the canister an arm’s length away. 

There’s a loud slam coming from the front of the house, followed by footsteps coming further into the house.

He quickly recognizes the heavy stomping as Gabi’s gait. She’s always been so loud.

Gabi crosses the arch into the small kitchen and dining area. 

“Don’t slam my doors,” he says as a greeting, slowly turning his head to his left side, trying to catch a glimpse of her in his periphery.

“Aye, aye,” the kid waves her hand, shoots him a teasing grin, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Levi hums in response but doesn’t say anything else. He busies himself with placing everything they need for their morning tea and coffee on a metal tray on the counter, which Gabi takes from him as soon as it’s ready and sets it on the table.

He grabs his cane from where he had hooked it on one of the kitchen drawers. He has been leaning against the counter, his right leg supporting most of his weight all this time. He braces himself for the sharp pain that will surely surge from his bad knee, through his left hip and up his spine. Cold mornings like this one and being still in one place for long will do that to him. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.

It takes 4 steps to get from the stove to his chair, which Gabi has already pulled out for him. It sits at an angle that allows him to easily slide down on it and rest his right elbow on top of the table, leaning back and against his good side.

“I have something that will cheer you up,” she holds a couple of envelopes in her hand and waves them at him, “You’ve got mail!”

He nods at her in acknowledgement but does not take his attention away from preparing his first batch of tea of the day. There’s a ritual to it, it almost feels like, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Not when the ringing in his ear is still there, the building pressure in the upper back part of his eyeballs, and the cold air seeping into his bones through his thick jumper. Oh, how he needs a good cup of tea right now.

While Levi waits for it to steep, he grabs the papers that she had shoved in his face, squints his eyes at the first envelope and finds that he is unable to make out much of the handwriting. He brings it closer to his face, squints harder, steals a quick glance across the table and hopes Gabi isn’t paying him any mind, too preoccupied with choosing from the bag of pastries she brought with her. It is with an impassive expression that he hands the stack of envelopes back. 

“Read it for me.” A beat and then he adds, a little reluctant: “Please.”

He knows Gabi prefers coffee in the mornings, and black tea in the evenings, so he makes sure to have a fresh brew of the former whenever he knows she’s coming over; so, with shaky hands, Levi gets to prepare her cup of coffee. While he enjoys the aroma of it, he remains faithful to tea; at first, he thought he didn’t like it because he had butchered his first attempts at brewing it. But even after Onyankopon had taught him how to do it properly and he had enjoyed his cup, it didn’t bring the same comfort as tea. It just never hit the spot.

She shoots him a mischievous grin, “Oh, you sure? What if I read something personal, hm?” 

Levi just shakes his head, scoffing at the idea of Gabi finding his junk mail fascinating.

“Is this how I find out you have a secret lover you’re exchanging raunchy love letters with?” Gabi teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He lets out a tired sigh and rolls his eyes, “just wanna be done with it, ” he stirs the milk into Gabi’s coffee, which now has turned into a cup of milk with coffee. “We have a lot to prepare for tonight.”

She clicks her tongue at him, but still rips the first envelope open, “Mr. Levi, your reading won’t improve if you keep doing that,” she jokingly scolds him.

Although Levi mentally recognises handing her and Falco stuff he couldn’t be bothered reading before, that’s not the case this time. He’ll let her think that for now, though, because he doesn’t want to mention the pressure building in the back of his bad eye, it’s not important and she, a kid, doesn’t need to know his newly found ailment of the week. He can see just fine around him right now. He can see Gabi’s big eyes and playful smile at the other side of the table, and that’s good enough; smaller details, he doesn’t feel he can do them, not without making himself go dizzy with a migraine.

Levi slides the cup of coffee to her and is pleased with himself when she approves of the colour of her drink.

“It’s from Armin,” she announces as she scans the letter. 

From this angle, the soft morning light illuminating her face and thanks to his faulty vision, Gabi’s image stirs his memory. His heart faintly constricts as he is reminded of the many times Hange read their research reports to him during breakfast in the mess hall before presenting them to Erwin. Levi always wondered how they could read so fast, sometimes he even doubted they were actually reading at all, their words barely being able to catch up with her eyes; he never asked about it, maybe reading came easy to them as numbers did to him.

A high-pitched squeal from Gabi startles him, bringing him back to the here and now.

“Oh… ohh, Mr. Levi,” she starts, her smile widening by the second “This is good news!”

Gabi makes a show of clearing her throat and then starts reading “Dear Captain, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health.” 

Levi can’t help but let a sardonic huff at the irony of the greetings but doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. He has written only a handful of personal letters throughout his life, and by now he knows it’s just something you’re supposed to say because jumping straight to the point isn’t acceptable, or so that’s what he had been told. 

Gabi continues reading Armin’s words to him. For the most part, it’s a standard letter coming from him: he asks Levi how he’s dealing with the changing of the seasons, how Gabi and Falco are faring, if business at the tea shop has been good, if there’s anything Levi needs that he can’t get in town so that Armin or the others can get it for him. He tells him a little about the country he’s writing from, he even includes a photograph. Then, after the expected pleasantries, Gabi can barely hold her excitement and starts reading faster, trying so hard not to trip over her words.

“If I’m being sincere, we would prefer to ask you in person,” Gabi stops for a second to look up at him from the paper, gauging for a reaction and finding nothing, she continues. 

Armin apologises for not being able to visit him before the holidays, Annie included, and so it is implied that he won’t be attending tonight’s reunion. 

Sometime during the last five years, the Alliance brats had decided to make showing up at Levi’s doorstep together once a year a sort of custom; the first time it happened was during an early winter, a blizzard had stopped them from leaving Levi’s until the next morning. It had been a really nice evening despite the awful weather, Levi remembers, after everyone pitched in one way or another, they all shared a simple but hearty meal together. It was Connie who jokingly said they should do it every year. The following year, Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco joined them. 

This year would be their fourth, and the first someone wouldn’t make it. That fact sits heavily in Levi’s chest, stealing the spotlight from his throbbing eye.

“...Annie and I have decided to get married. The both of us would like you to officiate our ceremony!” unable to contain her excitement, she tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at Levi. “Huh?! This is good news! What’s with the constipated face?!”

That doesn’t sound right. It figures that Annie and Armin would be the first to marry; in a way, he is happy for them, they clearly care for each other. No, that part is easy to understand. Their union is logical to anyone who knows the couple. What Levi can’t figure out is why they are asking him such a thing.

He clears his throat, assumes it’s been 3 minutes and his tea is ready to be poured and so he distracts himself with that.

When he doesn’t answer Gabi, she picks up where she left off. 

He isn’t… well, he isn’t that close to either of them. He’s sure Annie must have other relatives that could step in his stead. Maybe a brother, a cousin. Even Jean or Reiner would be better options than Levi. He isn’t good with words or people like they are, he couldn’t possibly give them a speech about something foreign to him as it is that kind of love, that’s what people expect, right? His title of Captain is obsolete in this new world, so it can’t be that either. Hell, he has never been to a fucking wedding. 

Just… why him?

As expected, Armin doesn’t really go into the details of their choice but does let Levi know they do not expect a fast answer and that they do not want him to feel pressured to accept it, despite how much it would mean to them if he did. Armin asks if there’s anything in particular that he would like for his birthday, as it is a month away, and closes the letter by saying he looks forward to seeing him and everyone then.

When the letter is closed and put back into its envelope, silence falls around them. For a moment the only sound that can be heard is the clinking of tableware as Levi places the teacup back on its saucer.

It bothers him, that he knows he will be letting Armin down by refusing something that any other well-adapted person would consider an honour. But the thought of embarrassing him and himself, because he gave an awkward, most likely insensitive, speech, mortifies him. No, he can’t put them and their guests through that. He will find a way to make it up to the couple, maybe he can… he doesn’t know yet, but he will come up with something.

As he finishes his first cup, Levi realises that at some point while he was lost in thought, the ringing in his ear has subsided and now it’s back to that muffled, cotton-in-ear sensation he’s used to and he doesn’t feel his eyeball pulsating anymore. Glancing at Gabi, he notices she is trying really hard not to say something, her brow furrowed as she takes a sip of her own drink, followed by a big bite of her pastry. Flakes stick to the corner of her mouth and for once it doesn’t disgust him. Instead, it makes his lips twitch as if going into a smile.

“I can help you... if you want,” she says eventually, sounding uncharacteristically careful and small of her.

Levi quirks an eyebrow “Help? with what?” 

She shrugs, “How to… tell them you don’t want to,” she avoids looking at him for the first time, finding the flakes on her plate more interesting. She shrugs again and tilts her head to the side, a thin line of a smile appearing on her face. “...or prepare for the ceremony.”

Not unlike many times before, Gabi’s words render him speechless, if only for a moment. He spares his tea a glance and he thinks: it’s bold of her to be so upfront about offering her help to him, and had it been any other morning, one where he couldn’t think past the constant ache in his body, he would’ve chewed her head off for simply trying to help him because he himself doesn’t know how to accept that kindness.

This kid is trying her best and he can’t help but feel somewhat proud of that.

“You have shit on your face. Here,” he points to where the flakes would sit on his own face and picks his refilled teacup back up.

Gabi quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting most of the flakes off. Levi gives her a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and tries to ignore the little happy dance she does in her seat.

This time, when the amber liquid touches his lips, it’s remarkably sweeter than before.

[doodleodds]

Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.

If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.

I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.

I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.

Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.

[sesamenom]

no living man may hinder me: The Gilded Wraith of Numenor

from the Reverse Gondolin AU, based on @who-needs-words's idea for Ar-Pharazon's fate! (they also wrote a ficlet for it, check it out here!)

[azaracyy]

"true partner" click here for the uquiz created by @/niconicomuda on twitter

[sulfurrrr]

Caitlyn's storyline is super interesting to me bc I think even though she has a lot of sympathy for the undercity, the biases she was raised with lead her to view it as one separate entity that is inherently different from her, rather than a group of people who all were systemically forced to pursue lives that are vastly different from hers (and this mindset is, in part, what's led Jinx to become a symbol of Zaun).

That subconscious mindset is why Jinx murdering her mother so easily led to her hatred and violence. If it had been someone from Piltover she very easily would have been able to see how isolated the attack was, or understood what led to it—but because it was Jinx, and because Zaun, in her eyes, has a history of directing extreme violence towards Piltover, to Caitlyn this is a unified attack from Silco's agent—and, by extension, the undercity as a whole— against Piltover (more specifically, against her mother).

That's why she said "It's her blood in your veins." She thought Vi was different and "not like them" because to her, while Piltover is, of course, nuanced and deeply flawed, Zaun has always been one separate entity to Caitlyn—and, from what she's seen of the undercity (under silco's leadership) Vi isn't "like them."

Jinx, however, is. Moreover, Jinx, as Silco's number one agent, the perpetrator of all the violence she's seen (against piltover), and the face she's been chasing since the beginning, is, in Caitlyn's eyes, the violent and destructive undercity Caitlyn always heard about personified.

And, by treating her like she is, Caitlyn's unknowingly propped Jinx up as Silco's successor and leader of Zaun—which, with the turf wars leaving so much violence and destruction, is exactly what the undercity wants and needs, so they rush to reinforce this narrative in the hopes that it'll come true and give them back some stability.

[arbitrarycategories]

my own reverse robins au has me in a vice-grip I swear. Little Duke Thomas I love you so much.

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

“because he never accepts that it's never been about righteousness--it's about repentance.” except javert killing himself IS repentance.

well, it’s like 12 different things, because bro had gone days without sleeping and very little food and water and he already had low self-worth and kept asking the amis to kill him and just assumed he was going to die AND THEN valjean upended his understanding of the world and morality. he was really going through it & there are a lot of overlapping reasons for why he jumps into the seine.

but javert is like Number One Most Responsible guy in the whole story. taking responsibility is his Thing (forever bitter the musical doesn’t include the punish me monsieur le maire scene). how else, in his derailment, could he atone for his conceived misdeeds other than by handing in his resignation to god? in the brick he had already left a note urging his superiors to treat convicts at toulon better, which is another step in his repentance (and another crime the musical commits by not including it). jumping into the seine was another step.

honestly a lot of ppl who like the book think the musical was dead wrong to exclude him from the big heaven group sing, because it COMPLETELY undermines the themes of forgiveness and compassion threaded throughout les mis. like the musical was simply wrong lol.

This is helpful context! I am still finishing the brick, although I have fully read the abridged version, and that detail about the letter wasn't included, so I didn't know that occurred! (And thank you for the message--this is a long response but I'd love to hear more of your thoughts!)

I agree that Javert is certainly deeply distraught and remorseful; like you mentioned, his worldview is literally falling apart, and his actions reflect his mental state. But his death isn't really repentance--in the sense that it's not what God would have wanted. To me it reads like a Judas situation: a desperate realization of a huge mistake, and doing the only thing you think can make it right, namely, ending it all. That's the just punishment for someone so wrong, isn't it?

But true repentance, meaning the repentance that the Lord desires, is about changing your ways, not "paying a price." Had Javert really understood the beauty of Valjean's mercy (an image of Christ's, just as the bishop's undeserved mercy was to Valjean himself), rather than killing himself, he would have lived to also become "an honest man"--in heart. One who could forgive and understand forgiveness, for himself as well as others. One who could recognize that he is not The Law, that he can fall, but that he can also be "brought to the light." One who could accept that men like Valjean, and men like himself, CAN change, and be changed.

It's tragic to me because so much of "Stars," and his character in the book as well as the musical, is about wanting to be righteous, to rise above his birth and the sinfulness he associates it with. It's about wanting to please the Lord by his actions. But in his end, he shows he never understood what God really wanted from him, and that's where my original phrase comes in: not righteousness, but repentance. To live, and face the man you were, knowing it's no longer the man you are. That it's never been about what you've done or can do, but about what's been done for you. That's the Gospel that he could never fully accept.

To use another example you mentioned, that misunderstanding drives why he asks the Mayor (Valjean) to punish him--in his worldview, mercy is unjust, or at the very least, unfair. Evil must be punished; "those who fall like Lucifer fell" receive "the sword." But "as it is written," God "desires mercy, not sacrifice" (Matthew 9:13). God would have wanted Javert to live, and Javert couldn't see that, and that's why it's devastating to me. In his misunderstanding of the heart of God, he misses what would have set him free from the chains of sin he's always been trying to escape.

That's why he's contrasted with Valjean, who (though he carries guilt about his past till the end of his life) is eventually able to face it and confess what he had done to those he loves. He knew there was mercy to be found, if only it was asked for. Javert was too blinded by pride and shame to realize it, and so, while broken, he never was able to truly repent.

For that, you must go on.

[mewnoroma]

Thinking about what type of fanfiction I'd like to write for Eigong, and I've been a little fixated on her roots. Like...I know she has them when she's mentoring Yi and Kuafu because of the latter's vital sanctum. And she gets more as that part of the story progresses...but like. How did she implement them to begin with? Did it hurt?

[pilferingapples]

as a big les mis fan, i have loved your blog for ages but recently you have especially piqued my interest - in your recent explanatory amis post, you referenced historical metacontext around jehan's death being first. i have a theory about what that metacontext is, but i am FAR from certain and hoping you could offer me some clarification

(also do you have any other pieces of interesting historical metacontext to share with the class)

OK you gotta tell me your Theory too!!! if it lines up or it was something totally different , I wanna hear it alllll

anyway! it's pretty solid that Prouvaire as he finally appears is largely an homage to Hugo's old friend Gérard de Nerval, who had died in 1855; a LOT about Prouvaire's description overlaps with how people talk about Gérard, and the conversation where he's arguing with everyone about the old gods still existing lines up EXTREMELY with conversations that other people remembered having with him ; there's THIS :

Jean Prouvaire was in love; he cultivated a pot of flowers, played on the flute, made verses, loved the people, pitied woman, wept over the child, confounded God and the future in the same confidence (LM 3.4.1, Hapgood)

“God is dead, perhaps,” said Gerard de Nerval one day to the writer of these lines, confounding progress with God and taking the interruption of movement for the death of Being.(LM 5.1.20)

(Hugo still trying to still have this conversation with his friend via novel guts me more than a little!! People are people and we never stop wanting to find the right thing to say oh geez I'm crying for real)

Bahorel , who dies in the same first-charge attack that takes Prouvaire, is also a (even more obvious) homage to a friend; Petrus Borel , who had died in 1859.

They're considered pretty minor figures today, but they were both really noteable names in their day, which is to say...about the late 1820s/early 1830s; they were two of Hugo's most trusted lieutenants in the battle of Hernani, held in French Romantic memory as a breakout event for the movement. And, importantly, they were the first of that core group of more radical Romantics to die.

So while i think there is a lot going on character- and symbol-wise with them being the first two Amis down, I also think there's definitely an Acknowledgement in them being the first of the named group to go; they get the sort of heroic deaths they'd have liked, and maybe the closest thing to Good deaths on the barricade until OFPD? and agh I'm emotional, QUICK tell me your theories before I start crying harder

[weavingmemories]

what you are, to me

[ehh-is-the-name]

It's past 11 on a school night and I'm fucking crying over robot sentience.

I could never understand what it would feel like to be created with the intent to kill and maim. Maybe, the intent to work and be worked, but not kill and maim.

I will never understand what it's like to be created with the intention of being a product for the masses, either. I think, I hope, I beg, no one does.

I will never ever be able to fully comprehend why hours of people's work, time, and money would be put into formulating my sentience only for me to be seen as disposable. Even if I could be improved, even if I were "defective", there is no reasonable justification for giving me emotions only to dismiss them by pushing me as a product for a year before starting anew.

It's... It's cruel, to the machines. Sentient or not, it's cruel. Though, I guess we are cruel.

[angy-grrr]

I really dont know what hori has planned for the next chapters n the evolution of the characters I talk about 99% -is himiko alive? if so, where is she? why the mystery surrounding her character? if she is dead, is that why ochako is acting like her old self?

Is ochako actually, genuinely doing good and happy? is her conclusion going to involve a love confession and end up with deku after all of that? did she lie to himiko? how is she copying with it all?

Is izuku thinking of leaving UA again? Will he get a new quirk? Will he get support as a quirkless hero? what is he thinking about? what about his feelings, why the mystery?

What about katsuki? why is he able to do so so much after dying? is his heart going to be okay? what will his future as a hero look like with heart problems and an explosive quirk? What does he feel for izuku, why does he get all the classic love interest tropes?

[lokidanger]

Their gaze must have felt like the morning sun by the way it was avoided, by how his head turned to the side, hiding the scarring that accompanied the blindness.

They hadn't gotten much of a chance to look at that eye, only few, momentarily reactions that caused him to open both of them at the same time. Sometimes at hearing something completely outrageous or by some sudden shocking comment Loki would say that earned an embarrassed chuckle out of him.

They'd been spending more time as of late, neither of them sure if it was because now they shared the sentiment of what it's like to be so close to death you're temporarily in their arms, or because both held the guilt of their own actions, but something had changed. And as imperfect as it was, it was the better outcome.

Loki looked around for a bit, looking at the flowers around the room. The white carnations and purple hyacinths seemed to glow in the sunlight that was coming from the window, but they also seemed discolored. The sorcerer had taken a liking to taking care of such plants, but seemed to have forgotten about the effects of the beginnings of summer. Moving the plants to the side, to hide them in the shadow.

“I like how your eyes look now. ”

When the God's eyes returned to Val's, he seemed tense. Hands clenching, looking back at them with a confused stare.

“... ¿Qué?...”

“Don't mistake me, I like the brown. But your pupils draw me in.”

They were waiting, waiting for an answer, waiting for him to say something snarky back or ignore their comment. But they only received a chuckle.

“Of course you would, green is your color, isn't it?.”

“Well, it could be yours too.”

They only received the same small inward laugh before the silence between the two of them started to fall pleasantly, neither saying anything to break the peace between the two.

Val's eye was looking back at him. So concentrated in every intricate detail as if he wanted to search for something... not looking for second intentions, or lies, or schemes, like anybody else tended to do in such quiet times like these. But searching for a moment.

“It could... I suppose.”

The smile that adorned Loki's face was received with a very small smirk, and two open eyes that wouldn't close as often for the rest of the day.