#veterans for peace | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bokettochild · 11 months

Text

Memorial

Hey everyone! Happy Memorial Day! (what's left of it)

As many of you may know, Memorial Day is a day to remember our fallen soldiers and those who served, and, well, I just couldn't resist making a little something for it.

Not all soldiers see this day with pride. Not all heroes and veterans make it to a time they can enjoy the celebrations of their victory, and some never enjoy the celebration.

As the daughter of a soldier, I've seen some things; hiding indoors at the sound/sight of fireworks, not handling loud noise well, being worried easily for those they care about, There's a lot our armed forces suffer, so please be sure to give them your respect, regardless of the day, and support them in any way you can, even if it's just by setting off your fireworks away from where they live so the sounds don't trigger them.

So! Without further ago!

The fic!

It's cold.

Warriors shivers as a breeze whispers past but he doesn't move from where he sits.

He can't.

Rather, he won't. His soul screams to stay still and though its sound is nearly lost amidst every other scream that floods his ears, he still hears it well enough to know to stay.

It's not like they'll let him leave anyway.

His brothers hadn't known, when they came across the ruins and open field, that this has been a place of battle. Twilight, suggesting that they make camp here, couldn't feel the latent energy of not yet departed souls. None of them could.

He’d tested, asked in his own roundabout way to try and divulge the truth from the others; could they see spirits? Not just gibdoes and wraiths and the like; all heroes could see those to an extent, it came with the job. Spirits though? The souls of the dead but not departed? It would seem he and he alone had been cursed with such sight.

And what a curse. Even now it howls in his ears. Cool, cold, freezing fingers brush and snatch at him, unable to truly grasp, too dead and too weak to cause physical pain, but they hardly need to do so when their presence is enough to make his soul howl in agony.

They don't know.

His brothers sleep on. Sky and Hyrule and Four are all on one side of camp not yet close enough to be considered cuddling but certainly nearing that point should one or another shift in their sleep, and they all will. Wind usually sleeps at the captain's back but tonight has dozed off in the veteran's shoulder and now lies close to the elder hero, who, while not asleep, doesn't seem to be quite awake either. As for their wolf trio, Twilight and Wild are curled up in each other as usual, and Time…

Time is watching him.

Reasonably speaking, he should be watching in disapproval. It's been hours and the captain hasn't lain down to go to sleep at all. His watch shift ended hours ago, Time taking over just when he was certain that he'd actually go mad from sitting alone in what others would perceive as silence but which for the captain was as good as his own personal hell.

His soldiers. His men. His own dear friends and brothers in arms. Dead.

Their souls gnash at his own, and while his body may not be touched by hands untouchable, his soul is, and while no damage can be done in their weak state, that does nothing for the screaming and the pain of his heart as he watches them. And he can't not watch them.

He owes it to them, in a way. His blade had taken their lives, his own two hands snapped the chords of their fate and extinguished their flames to leave them nothing but husks of what they once were, still too full of fury to pass on past the veil and find solace in whatever might lay in the beyond. He is the cause of their suffering, and despite how others may claim that it was Ganon, or Cia, or some other power that drive fate to be how it was and took the choice- took so many choices from so many people- it does not change the fact that it was he, and he alone, who ended so many of the lives that still linger here.

So, he owes it to them to let them air their hate, just as he owes it to their families to let them simmer in theirs. He took. He killed, and be it for the right cause or not, death is death and a killing is a killing, and soldier though he may be, he hates to stare at his hands and see the blood of these innocent victims dripping from his fingers.

That, and the screaming, keeps him from sleep and under Time's stare, but the judgment of the elder is nothing to be compared with the fury and agony of restless souls, even with the uncanny magic that wafts off the man.

Death is stronger tonight.

The captain shifts in his seat. He's chosen the remains of an old wall as his perch, to watch from up high and not in the midst of the spirits is the one kindness he grants himself. The wind bites at him, tearing at his hair and scarf as it tries to pierce the wool of his clothes and iron of his mail. It's late, they're safe here and he has no reason to still be dressed for war, but it feels wrong to be anything but as he watches his soldiers wander below.

One surges up to him, weightless now in death, eyes empty and cold, just as they had been as his blade had been pulled a third time from their chest and they had finally fallen. Hands grasp and screams, wordless and sharp, rip from non-existent lungs. Such vestments of humanity were stripped by buzzards, and all that lies in remains is the skeleton that lies against the wall at his feet.

He tries not to look at it.

The man's name was once Conlee, he was a blacksmith's son with a sweetheart back in Ordon Town and plans to start a farm there, living the quiet life. He was one of the first to become corrupted and thus be killed. His infant son is only five months old.

The captain winces, not because of the screams or the chill of a spirit's touch, but at the thought of Magda, Conlee's sweetheart, standing there with her newborn and receiving the news. He'd delivered word to them himself and it killed part of him. Artemis forbade him from doing it again after that, but that didn't stop him from seeing the fallout when others took the task.

Conlee eventually ceases his assault, returning to wandering the field beside his fellow slain soldiers, and Warriors' eyes follow them. That it, they do until a thunderous explosion has him and every spirit jumping to attention. His hand flies to his blade in an instant but when he turns to face the noise, all that can be seen are shimmering blue and crimson sparks dancing across the sky.

Another such explosion of color lasts across the sky, ripping at ears and making those sleeping stir, even as the captain shudders.

Time watches the fireworks placidly, gaze straying to Warriors now and again.

The captain doesn't notice. His eyes are fixed on dancing sparks, even as he forces himself back down to seated.

They're celebrating, over in Castle Town. Why, he can't fathom. Today was a day of victory, a year ago in the war, but not one worth anything. Too many men dead. Too many lives lost. Too much needless death on both sides had made their victory a pyrrhic one. He can't imagine celebrating this or any other battle save those which ended in Cia and Hanon's defeat. Certainly nothing warrants the sparks and screams in the air as flame and smoke lick across the sky from the city ahead.

He doesn't like them.

They're loud. The sound… it startles and shakes him like not even the screams of the dead do. It's like canon fire all over again. Lead raining down from the battlements, crushing foe beneath as allies and friends steered clear lest they be struck. The walls are crumbling and the troops roar beneath, too locked battle and too deafened by the blasts they hear the shifting of stones. The weight of the cannons is pushing, the wall is giving way, the enemy is darting close and Mask is atop the wall, shouting, screaming, voice unheard but face white and afraid and- the stones give way and the child stumbles and….!

Warmth, soft and sweet, floods over him.

The captain blinks his eyes and looks over the long-ruined battlefield. The moldering stone walls and barely standing remains of the keep are still there. The cannons are long buried under the rubble. Mask- no, Time sits by the arch of the gate, staring out at the burst of stars rippling up from where Castle Town lies.

All is well, all is at peace, and when he turns back, he finds Legend perched on the wall beside him, tired eyes fixed on him and waiting, soft golden magic seeping from him to brush against the captain's own, soothing and sweet like warm cider "Vet?" He's a bit startled to see the other up, and his gaze immediately darts down to where Wind has been left.

The sailor now has his face pressed between Twilight's shoulders, snoring softly and soundly.

When he turns back, violet eyes are studying him quietly, golden light brushing gently over in a near unseeable whisp where unfelt hands had grasped and struck. He's being examined. Legend's not nearly as good at it as Hyrule, but he's a quick learner and the younger man seems to have a handle on this most simple of medical magics.

Warriors lets it be, sitting still and letting his eyes wander back to the roaming spirits below. When warmth brushes against his side, silent but pointed, he breathes.

Legend doesn't say anything.

Warriors isn't sure he can either in this moment.

Instead, he shifts, lifting an arm and end of his scarf and curling both around the smaller form of his brother as Legend settles beside him.

Somehow the action feels different than when Wind would do it. More akin to Mask actually. The vet is similar in many ways, and paramount in those is his refusal to seek out contact save in order to offer comfort to others. Warriors takes it though. The warmth and weight against his side on the old and ruined wall helps to ground him, and when the next burst goes up, he's able to breathe the slightest bit easier. By habit borne of Mask and Wind, his hand lifts to mused strawberry hair, running through slowly so that his breaths match every lift and fall of his hand.

The vet shifts, but he doesn't complain, so the battle-worn hands remain as gnarled and boney ones pull the scarf a bit closer.

Legend doesn't say anything to him, doesn't even glance up at him. For all intents and purposes, the veteran has settled here to provide comfort of the physical sort, but even so, the steady presence and newfound ability to breathe again have the words tumbling out.

"I don't like fireworks."

There is silence beside him, the only sign of life the slight tilt inward of the vet's head, closer against his chest.

"They sound like canons." He whispers, cautious of those sleeping below and behind them. "It… I don't like it."

Silence greets his words.

Not cold silence, no, there is something heavy about it. Heavy and still, but while not quite expectant, it feels open. It's an odd thing to try and describe, even to himself, but there is no other way. It's an openness he feels the distinctive need to fill, so his words and thoughts tumble out, tired, worn and pained like he rarely allows himself be.

"It's bad enough camping here, but the canons- fireworks… The battle here ended horribly, the walls collapsed and all the canons crushed those below. Most of them were our men."

Men who'd not died quickly.

Men whose bodies were half buried, the other half left writhing and most times screaming for help.

It makes him shiver again, but the body beside his own remains still. A part of him knows Legend's listening, but the other half, still shattered and shaken, has his hand dropping to the crook of the other man's neck all the same, seeking a pulse and holding when he finds it.

Legend doesn't shake him off, only shifts some to accommodate.

Warriors takes that as permission to leave his hand where it lies.

He breathes once more, tuning his own to the easy puffs from the other man. " I don't like this place."

Another shift, this time so that star-flecked eyes can fix on him.

He winces. Doesn't tremble, but it's a near thing as he looks into the sea of faces only he can see. "They all died," it's more whisper than word, his eyes tracking the countless eyes fixed on himself and now Legend.

Boney fingers gently settle over top his own. They're warm.

"Nothing was in our favor. Our own men were turned against us. The cannons we mounted on the walls were too heavy for the stone to support while firing them so often." He looks to the ground beneath where the most of the scattered armor and bone peek through fallen masonry. "The walls fell. The enemy took over the fort and half our men were either killed or corrupted." A shuddered breath. "I don't know how many lives I took that day." But he'd been drenched in blood, hair and hands stained for days after.

Legend blinks. Gaze like endless twilight skies, unreadable but so much easier to watch than the ones filled with scorn around them. Still, easier though it may be, there's something impossible about looking a brother in the eyes as he speaks his next. "I considered them brothers."

His throat is tight.

"I killed them."

Something heavy settles on his knee, startling him, and when the captain looks it's to see Time standing against the wall. The man leans back against the stone, arms settled over the top by where they sit, but one heavy hand resting on Warriors' leg; a silent comfort.

The single blue eye is pained as it turns to him. Expression familiar as the one he likely wears himself.

Time was there too. Time had almost died with them.

Only Midna's quick thinking had been his saving, a portal opening breath him in midair before he could be buried with the others in the rubble. He'd emerged again in a twin pool of shadow instants later, thoroughly startled and considerably less Hylian, but they'd never worried much on it in the moment. What mattered was that he had been safe, and if Warriors’ first action once the battle was over was to fall to his knees and pull both younger heroes in close, breathing in the scent of life and sweaty little brothers and trying to assure himself that they, at least, had made it out alive.

Midna never even teased him for it. She’d stood watch and settled her hand on his shoulders much like how Legend and Time do now, and sat in silence while he’d mustered his courage to raise his head again and face the destruction he’d helped to cause.

“We started together,” the words rasp, gaze trailing across the field. Five or six spirits watch him, some with hooded eyes and others with visible pain. “We joined the army hoping for better. We promised to look out for each other, watch each other’s backs.”

The hands on his tighten their hold minutely; not constricting, but ever present and holding tight enough it feels as though they think it will ground him back to reality. He hopes- or rather… does he want it to work?

“We stuck together through basic. Helped each other with our forms. I think one of my mates even bribed the commanding officer to get us all deployed to the same garrison.” They had. They’d all scraped together funds as a group and the oldest one of them had gone to present the ‘offering’ to their commander. “I saw them as brothers,” he repeats again,” we roamed the streets together as tykes, the roads as young men, and when the war came, we thought we’d stay together then too.”

He has to muster a breath as one of them turns their back.

Legend’s thumb grazed the back of his hand gently, moving back in forth in a subtle but assuring motion.

“And then I became the hero.”

The cursed hero. The title’s done nothing but bring trouble to himself and Hyrule both since he’d discovered the truth, and there’s been many a day he’d wished that he’d just stayed home and spent the rest of his life as a tailor like his father. No Triforce would have shown itself then. No hero would have been forged and no war would have been started for his soul. Life would be so much better, on so many counts, if he never had become a soldier.

“I wish I’d stayed home. I wish- gods, there’s so many things I wish. I wish I hadn’t joined. I wish I hadn’t left my post that first day we were attacked. I wish I’d had the good sense to follow the advice of my men and watch my damned ego! If I’d just kept myself in check, been content!” Both hands lift to drag through too-long hair.

He needs to cut it. It’s not uniform.

He hates the thought nearly as much as he hates the uniform that goes with it.

“My brothers fought for honor,” he whispers to the sky, “I was just fighting for the money.”

“A man fights for what he doesn’t have.”

Legend’s words make him start. First at the sound, the other two have been silent thus far and he’d expected- he’s not sure what he expected. Legend smirking up at him, violet skies flashing softly with something playful, makes him ease, drop his hands again and take the one that offers itself to him. If his first action is to seek the pulse point, neither Time nor Legend says anything of it.

“Still, if I’d stayed home. We’d never be here.” Another scream, unheard by the others, rips through the air. “I’d never have killed them.”

“Wars-”

“I know I had to.” it’s out of his mouth in a moment. “I know there wasn’t a choice. They were corrupted, they were traitors. There wasn’t anything else I could do, and by doing what I did I brought us one fraction of a step closer to defeating Ganon. I know what I did had to be done. I know I had to do it, but…” his grip tightens, “that doesn't change the fact that I had to kill; that I killed my own men. A death is a death, no matter who causes it, and no matter what anyone says about the war not being my fault, I was the one who made the decision to end the lives that I did. Regardless of the fact that there were no options, I still am the one who did it.”

Heavy hands and boney ones grip a bit tighter, one blue and two violet eyes staring up at him even as his own turn to the field, a sort of bitter emptiness lingering in him at finally speaking the words.

He’s heard every assurance, he thinks every excuse has been uttered on his behalf, but while he knows, in a way, that the deaths weren’t something he could change, the fact that they came by his hands sits uneasy in his mind.

So much death. So much caused by himself. So little gained. So much lost. He can’t help but wonder sometimes if it was even worth it in the end.

Other times though, he looks at Hyrule, growing again, thriving, he sees his little brothers grown or growing. He sees a glimmer of a future in the champion, a promise that there is something worth fighting for. There’s people, endless souls and homes and lands to protect. There’s still a reason.

That doesn’t make what he had to do easier to bear though.

What he appreciates though is that neither brother attempts to assure him on that point. In fact, Time’s head nods just the slightest, eyes glinting with pain as they turn to what, to him, is an empty field scattered with bones. Beside him, Legend’s gaze falls, and though he can’t see, he can sense the burden that settles over the other’s soul.

They get it. They don’t say as much and make no attempt to share anecdotes about their own sufferings. There are no words spoken at all for a moment, the only motioning being Time’s restless feet shifting and Legend’s hands working over the joints and bone of his own, shifting in a silent study as his mind focused on some other place, thing or occurrence.

It’s silent for a moment.

Well, very nearly.

Shards of light still explode across the heavens and the spirits still come and go below, but there is no more action from them as many linger by their forlorn corpses or others by hastily dug mass graves. He’s not sure if they can see each other or not, but it would seem they can sense his brothers; between Time’s twisted, sickening magical aura and Legend’s holy one, nothing strays close anymore, and he’s left in some sick semblance of peace as he’s forced to watch them regardless, even with his brother’s close by.

“Tell us about them?” Legend’s voice is softer than most days. It’s neither sleep nor pain, but something almost dreamy in his tone, something distant.

Right now, he hasn’t the energy to wonder why, but he notes to himself to ask later, when he has enough in him to care. For now, he’ll be selfish.

“Why?”

“Because they deserve to be remembered,” endless violet latch onto his face, “they shouldn’t go forgotten.”

“What did they like to do?” Time chimes in, “what did you do in your free time? What were their families like?”

And it hurts to even think about it. An ache settles deep within at the mere thought, but still, when his eyes fall on Gassun’s face amidst the forest of the fallen, he can’t help what slips from his lips. “My best friend was our next-door neighbor. He used to tease me about becoming my sister’s sweetheart. They wanted a fall wedding.”

#lu warriors #memorial day #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #lu time #warriors has ptsd #and a host of other issues #time and legend are veterans too #a fic for our veteran boys #may they find peace #linked universe fanfic

142 notes · View notes

importantdestinydefendor · 29 days

Text

Now that I have talked about my new beloved Spirit Hunter series.

I looked at something for my newest OC for Spirit Hunter (because we know ya girl can't go a day without making art for OCs or make a new one lol. I basically breath that stuff) and I was not prepared for what I read. I still can't believe what I saw with my very own eyes...

This is (probably, it is on his fandom wiki) form the offical art book of the first game. This is Kazuo Yashiki (as it says on the side). (You can also see what I mean with "his hair is too neat" in my fanart)

But that is not what I want to show you.

This is a description with a comment left by the artist and concept developer (this is very common for artbooks).

Again, not completely what I wanted to show you...

EXCUSE ME??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN "good with his hands"??? (I know what they want to say but still...) This came so out of left field that it gave me whiplash and a punch in the face. I was not prepared at all. I only wanted to see if he was wearing a watch (I saw a fanart were he wore one so I wanted to check)...

#spirit hunter series #spirit hunter death mark #kazuo yashiki #goddamn it brain!#can't let me live in peace with out one weird thought can you now???!!#welp anyway #back to drawing my OC I go!#Uh question for the veterans of the series #when does it take place?? Like which decade?#the youtuber (where I watch a LP) said that it was in the 90s #I also get a similar vibe #is that right??

27 notes · View notes

awesomecooperlove · 3 months

Text

❤️❤️❤️

18 notes · View notes

dreaminginthedeepsouth · 5 months

Text

In the Air by Christopher Nevinson, 1917. Lithograph.

Today is Armistice Day, commemorated every year on 11 November to mark the end of the First World War and the armistice signed.⁠ ⁠

In this work by Christopher Nevinson the abstract patchwork of fields is laid out under the wing of a military aircraft, the sharp angles of the composition emphasising the dizzying height of the plane.⁠ During the war, the world was being seen from entirely new angles, inspiring artists to experiment and to depict landscape in new, unexpected ways.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

November 11, 2023

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

NOV 12, 2023

In 1918, at the end of four years of World War I’s devastation, leaders negotiated for the guns in Europe to fall silent once and for all on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. It was not technically the end of the war, which came with the Treaty of Versailles. Leaders signed that treaty on June 28, 1919, five years to the day after the assassination of Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand set off the conflict. But the armistice declared on November 11 held, and Armistice Day became popularly known as the day “The Great War,” which killed at least 40 million people, ended.

In November 1919, President Woodrow Wilson commemorated Armistice Day, saying that Americans would reflect on the anniversary of the armistice “with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country’s service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations…."

But Wilson was disappointed that the soldiers’ sacrifices had not changed the nation’s approach to international affairs. The Senate, under the leadership of Republican Henry Cabot Lodge of Massachusetts—who had been determined to weaken Wilson as soon as the imperatives of the war had fallen away—refused to permit the United States to join the League of Nations, Wilson’s brainchild: a forum for countries to work out their differences with diplomacy, rather than resorting to bloodshed.

On November 10, 1923, just four years after he had established Armistice Day, former President Wilson spoke to the American people over the new medium of radio, giving the nation’s first live, nationwide broadcast.

“The anniversary of Armistice Day should stir us to a great exaltation of spirit,” he said, as Americans remembered that it was their example that had “by those early days of that never to be forgotten November, lifted the nations of the world to the lofty levels of vision and achievement upon which the great war for democracy and right was fought and won.”

But he lamented “the shameful fact that when victory was won,…chiefly by the indomitable spirit and ungrudging sacrifices of our own incomparable soldiers[,] we turned our backs upon our associates and refused to bear any responsible part in the administration of peace, or the firm and permanent establishment of the results of the war—won at so terrible a cost of life and treasure—and withdrew into a sullen and selfish isolation which is deeply ignoble because manifestly cowardly and dishonorable.”

Wilson said that a return to engagement with international affairs was “inevitable”; the U.S. eventually would have to take up its “true part in the affairs of the world.”

Congress didn’t want to hear it. In 1926 it passed a resolution noting that since November 11, 1918, “marked the cessation of the most destructive, sanguinary, and far reaching war in human annals and the resumption by the people of the United States of peaceful relations with other nations, which we hope may never again be severed,” the anniversary of that date “should be commemorated with thanksgiving and prayer and exercises designed to perpetuate peace through good will and mutual understanding between nations.”

In 1938, Congress made November 11 a legal holiday to be dedicated to world peace.

But neither the “war to end all wars” nor the commemorations of it, ended war.

Just three years after Congress made Armistice Day a holiday for peace, American armed forces were fighting a second world war, even more devastating than the first. The carnage of World War II gave power to the idea of trying to stop wars by establishing a rules-based international order. Rather than trying to push their own boundaries and interests whenever they could gain advantage, countries agreed to abide by a series of rules that promoted peace, economic cooperation, and security.

The new international system provided forums for countries to discuss their differences—like the United Nations, founded in 1945—and mechanisms for them to protect each other, like the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), established in 1949, which has a mutual defense pact that says any attack on a NATO country will be considered an attack on all of them.

In the years since, those agreements multiplied and were deepened and broadened to include more countries and more ties. While the U.S. and other countries sometimes fail to honor them, their central theory remains important: no country should be able to attack a neighbor, slaughter its people, and steal its lands at will. This concept preserved decades of relative peace compared to the horrors of the early twentieth century, but it is a concept that is currently under attack as autocrats increasingly reject the idea of a rules-based international order and claim the right to act however they wish.

In 1954, to honor the armed forces of wars after World War I, Congress amended the law creating Armistice Day by striking out the word “armistice” and putting “veterans” in its place. President Dwight D. Eisenhower, himself a veteran who had served as the supreme commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force in Europe and who had become a five-star general of the Army before his political career, later issued a proclamation asking Americans to observe Veterans Day:

“[L]et us solemnly remember the sacrifices of all those who fought so valiantly, on the seas, in the air, and on foreign shores, to preserve our heritage of freedom, and let us reconsecrate ourselves to the task of promoting an enduring peace so that their efforts shall not have been in vain.”

—

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#first world war #armistice #Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #Dwight D. Eisenhower #war #peace #war and peace #soldier #soldiers #veterans #history #WWI #WWII

12 notes · View notes

the-merry-gnome · 5 months

Text

When the guns fell silent, on the 11th month, of the 11th day, at the 11th hour…listening to the birds start singing gets me every time.

#Veterans Day #armistice day #ww1 #peace #Bandcamp

11 notes · View notes

paintballdays · 4 months

Text

The New Veterans Crisis Hotline Number

#veterans #crisis hotline #suicide helpline #you're not alone #nevergiveup #truth #life #reality #truestory #peace #sorrow #love #ptsd #Army #navy #marine #air force #coast guard #space force

6 notes · View notes

defensenow · 19 days

Text

youtube

2 notes · View notes

justbeingnamaste · 1 year

Photo

“On this Veterans Day, let us remember the service of our veterans, and let us renew our national promise to fulfill our sacred obligations to our veterans and their families who have sacrificed so much so that we can live free.”

#Dan Lipinski #Veterans Day #November 11 ~ 2022 #Still Here :)#💫✨🌟 Love Light Peace and Unity in our journey Al 🌟✨💫Just Being 🙏❤️🙏

48 notes · View notes

theoptimisticdaydreamer · 2 years

Text

Episode 6 was so incredibly touching and poignant. It was heartstring-tugging, moving and absolutely beautiful. I filled an ocean with my tears this episode. This episode will leave you emotionally drained and even thinking about it will make you cycle through all of these emotions again.

This episode was different from all that came before it. Primarily, it was an arc that was told within the span of one episode. This did not lessen the feels in any way whatsoever but I wonder if it signals a shift in story telling going forward. Will the arcs be self-contained within one episode? Will this change the messages that each case brings with it? Will this lead to focusing more on the Grim Reapers themselves? Only time will tell. Secondly, the person they were tasked to save only had a limited time left to live afterwards.

The focus of this episode was an elderly Korean War Veteran. He had the kindest disposition. He reminded me of a polished river stone in that time and life experiences had worn away all of the impulsive emotions and what was left was a quiet enduring wisdom. I think what really got to me is that he reminds me of people I knew who grew up in that generation. The generation that faced unimaginable pain and hardship and who grew up to have this otherworldly patience and outlook. The people who would save every penny but wouldn't hesitate to give you the shirt off of their back if you need it. The people who are givers and put everyone else before themselves. The generation that is quickly passing away. He reminded me of all those I lost and made me miss and treasure them even more. Safe to say, just like Jun Woong, I quickly became attached.

The Risk Management Team took a different approach to this case than I was expecting. They not only told him that they were Grim Reapers but that he had one day left in his lifespan. They gave him all of the facts upfront. You learn that the only reason he was considering taking his life was because he didn't want to die alone. They told him that he could do anything he wanted to do for his last day and all he wanted to do was peacefully do what he did every day.

You got a glimpse into his life during those twenty four hours. The Risk Management Team saw how he viewed trash as treasure and was grateful for everything. You saw him give all of his hard earned money to the person who ran the dump and told him to use the money for meals for his family. I think seeing his enduring optimism and kindness really moved them. It is so frustrating how easily he was dismissed in the beginning of the episode for his livelihood and how he was used as a cautionary tale by the woman to her daughter. Just seeing how he chose to spend the last day of his life exemplifies that a person’s character is not defined by their job and what they have to do to survive.

Seeing his backstory really broke me. You learned that he volunteered for the war, that he couldn’t just stand by as people younger than him gave their lives for their country. Watching all that he had to go through during the war from having his commanding officer die right in front of him, to getting reluctantly attached to someone who later yelled at him for saving his life, to returning home to realize his home was destroyed and his mother had died while he had been gone, was absolutely heartbreaking. Seeing how PTSD drastically changed his life afterwards while those who never fought could live their lives successfully felt so cruel after everything he lost. Hearing that he had regretted his choice of joining the war meant that for over eighty years he had carried this burden in his heart hurt. Knowing that he thought his life a waste, meaningless and useless for so many years absolutely destroyed me. It reminds me of so many others who fought in the war and survived the war only to come home and never talk about it again. So many have passed without realizing that there are so many people who are grateful for their sacrifice.

I am so so glad that Ryeon was able to convey that to him. That in no way shape or form was his life meaningless or useless. That his sacrifice created the country they lived in now, the bright night lights of a bustling Seoul. Without him, it would not have been possible. I cried as he realized the magnitude of what he achieved through his sacrifice. That he did not sacrifice through war and did not suffer through its aftermath for nothing.

His last moments really got to me. A man who was scared of dying because he would be dying alone ended up having so many people around him. The Risk Management Team stayed by his side (even though Jun Woong had to step out for a little bit because he couldn’t stand to see Grandfather Veteran in pain). Seeing Joong Gil show up confirmed to me that he could be gentle if the situation called for it. There was a truce in those moments between all of the Reapers because there was something more important at hand - paying respects to a kind soul. Joong Gil told Grandfather Veteran that he remembered the last time he saw his back (knowing that he was there that day also tugged on all of my heartstrings). He gave the comfort that only someone who had been there with you could give. I think he was absolutely vital in bringing peace to Grandfather Veteran’s past. I want to pay my respects to the courage you had for your country so we will all accompany you in your last moment. When you saw Grim Reapers arrive from every direction, you began to feel the importance of this moment. Hearing that it was a special case and the Director must have approved for this to happen means that even the Director softened her heart for this case (despite her firm standing on no special treatment earlier in the episode). The fact that the girls of the Escort Team had never seen this happen before shows just what a kind soul Grandfather Veteran had to make such an impact. An impact so great that the Director herself showed up which made me lose it seeing how many people have come to honor him.

The Director’s speech to him was so touching. Hearing that he had a gentle face and had lived a kind life. People face choices every moment of the lives. All those various choices come together to make their lives. The choice you made during your youth were honorable. You have lost so much yet you have protected so many lives and brought about the world of today. Thank you for protecting the lives of so many. Seeing the tears in the Grim Reapers eyes and the tears that fell down her face as she helped him pass on peacefully and comfortably really spoke to how Lee Young Chun (Grandfather Veteran) moved them. I was crying alongside them. I am so glad that his soul will be blessed beyond what his life has been worth because he deserves so much peace and happiness in every life to come after having such a difficult life. Thank you for your hard work.

His send-off was so incredibly moving. I am so happy he saw the scale of his send-off because it just cements that though he thought that he did not change any lives, he in fact impacted the lives of so many (Grim Reapers included). I’ve lived regretting the choice I made that day for a very long time. But fighting for my country was the noblest choice I have made and it was worth it. Thank you for being with me during my final tomorrow. The HUG he gave Jun Woong MY HEART. The salute Jun Woong gave him. The moment of silence for the soul of the fallen hero who protected this country...I could not stop the tears from falling. It was the honorable and respecful send off he deserved and I hope that all those who gave their lives to protect the lives of so many, all those who endured so much pain and suffering, got a send off just like his. They deserve it too.

When the Risk Management Team first approached Young Chun, he was like a wilted flower bush who had not seen the sun of other people’s company or gotten any water of a meaningful life. He was alone and thought his life to be worthless and meaningless. Through the Risk Management Team and Jumadeung and in his final moments, he bloomed because he was no longer alone and everyone showed him just how important and meaningful his life actually was. He was given the sun and water he was deprived of for so long. He spent his final moments with good company and then was escorted to the afterlife surrounded by people. He was surrounded by the warmth of people who cared about him and then reunited with his mother who never stopped caring.

This episode also made me treasure Jun Woong so much. I think he was critical to Young Chun’s final days. He was really the turning point for Young Chun’s perspective on his own life. Up until Young Chun met Jun Woong for the first time, he was struggling to get by, getting bettlitled by people on the street and then bullied by the thugs of the neighborhood. Jun Woong stepping in showed him that someone cared and someone noticed. The Risk Management team treated him with kindness and respect but Jun Woong went one step further and treated him like family. He immediately adopted him as his Grandfather. Family like affection was something that Young Chun hadn’t received since he said goodbye to his mother. It carries a different type of warmth. It was also through Jun Woong, that Young Chun learnt the friend he thought resented him for saving his life actually saw Young Chun as a source of strength and used his words to get him through. The friend was grateful and thankful and appreciative of Young Chun’s actions and he would have gone to the grave not knowing that if it had not been for Jun Woong. The hug they shared gives off very Grandparent vibes which just speaks to the bond Jun Woong was able to develop with him through such a short period of time. The epilogue also shows the softer side of Young Chun that Jun Woong was able to draw out as he persuaded him to get his photo taken. Also, his dynamic with Ryeon and the Director is always such a pleasure to see. He is truly the heart of Jumadeung and its missing piece.

You also get a glimpse into the world of the Grim Reaper and that they can also be moved by humans as well. When Ryeon went to plead with the Director that he be given a peaceful passing, the Director implied that Ryeon was not the first person to ask this of her. Given that Ryeon and Joong Gil met right before and she asked him to escort Grandfather Veteran to the afterlife, you can assume that Joong Gil had gone in first to ask the Director to pull some strings. Which means that Joong Gil possesses some warmth to him hidden under his icy cold persona because he can be moved by the lives and the sacrifices of the living too. Ryung Gu also tells Jun Woong that because of the scale of the war, multiple Grim Reapers were called on to assist people to the afterlife which means they also were witness to the horrors of war and it weighed on them too. You also later learn that the reason that Ryeon only wanted to escort criminals was because she had a hard time watching people in their last moments.

I think that a greater understanding between the Grim Reapers grew this episode. Joong Gil showing up to accompany Young Chun in his last moments and Ryeon looking surprised to learn that Joong Gil also does not find it easy to watch people in their last moments indicated to Ryeon that Joong Gil has layers and is not unfeeling (and somewhere deep down there is warmth). Joong Gil also saw how Ryeon has changed in that she stayed by Young Chun’s side even though she still found it difficult to watch people in their last moments. They are both more than each other thought they were. I hope that there can be tentative positive growth in their dynamic because they are so much better working together than they are butting heads. It was also nice in general to see the relative warmth that Joong Gil had at Young Chun’s bedside (which I think also speaks to how much Joong Gil respects Young Chun in comparison to the other souls he has escorted). How he softened when he told Ryeon that no one finds it easy, but that is the work of a Reaper. To watch until the very end. I am invested in the complex character of Joong Gil and his many layers (not just the by-the-rules ice cube) and I hope to see more of it on screen as time goes by.

I think that this episode will always bring me to tears. Always.

99 notes · View notes