#also historia in the background like :O | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

introvert-pansexual · 3 years

Note

could you do the headcanons for the aot girls on how they would cheer you up/comfort you when your sad?

▸ a/n : thank you for the request!! this has been in my drafts for a little while, so i hope you don’t mind me using it for your request :))

COMFORTING YOU HEADCANONS.

MASTERLIST | GENDER NEUTRAL S/O

summary : you’re not feeling the best and this is how they try to comfort you / cheer you up. ( pt.1 )

characters : hange zoë, annie leonhart, sasha braus, mikasa ackerman, ymir, historia reiss

hange zoë

placing your head on the top of the desk, a tired sigh escaped your lips. it was around two in the morning and you were working on all of your paper work over again, because you messed them up. shockingly, it made you more sad than angry, as you were working with an excitement not too long ago, but all that disappeared the second you spotted the mistake you repeated on all of your papers for the commander.

a small gasp escaped your lips, when you felt two hands sneak on your shoulders, gently gripping them. "what's wrong, darling?" hange furrowed their eyebrows, as they started to massage your shoulders, making you melt into their touch. "i messed up, and now i have to do this work all over again." you groaned, earning a small hum as a response from hange.

"it's all alright, y/n. we all make mistakes and then we learn from them, meaning there's nothing bad about it." pressing a soft kiss onto your cheek, hange's calming voice rang through your ears. "you're right." you muttered.

"i have an idea!" hange called out, their hands lowering on both sides of your arms, as they placed their chin on top of your shoulder. "how about we head to bed now, where you are gonna get the sleep you need and deserve, and in the morning i'll help you fix all these papers?" raising an eyebrow, hange waited for an answer.

after few seconds of silence, as you thought about your lover's offer, you sighed in defeat. "okay." you simply answered. "fine, then let's go!" hange chuckled, grabbing your hand and pulling you up from the chair, as your faces were now just a few inches apart. pecking your lips, hange softly chuckled, causing your heart to flatter.

you knew hange was trying their best to keep your mind off all the negative stuff and you couldn't thank them enough for doing so.

annie leonhart

you felt stupid, for managing to fall during one of your odm gear trainings. you were trying so hard, yet you failed once again, making you feel useless. you knew it can take a while to learn something, but you weren't exactly the most patient person with this.

being drained up after your extended training you gave yourself earlier, you were currently laying the top of your bed, with your face buried into the pillow. the sound of the door creaking open caught your attention, yet you didn't bother to raise your head to look up who walked in.

a weight being added on the end of your bed made you finally look up, seeing it was no one else then annie, who decided to join you in the empty barracks. "you skipped dinner." annie said in her monotone voice, while you sat up from your lying position. "i wasn't hungry anyway." you muttered, clearly lying. "here." annie handed you a piece of bread, as your eyes slightly widened. "don't just stare at it, take it."

comfortable silence filled the room, while you were quietly eating the bread annie has brought you. "is it about you failing the training earlier today?" annie slightly furrowed her eyebrows, making you sigh at the question. "it's just- this wasn't the first time i've failed and it makes feel so useless, no matter how stupid it sounds." you shifted on the bed, your back now leaning against the wall.

"it's not stupid." annie said, also pressing her back against the wall. "and i've seen you're pretty good at hand to hand combat, meaning you're not useless. it's normal if you're not perfect in everything." muttering, annie kept her gaze onto the bed sheets, while you swiftly glanced at her side once in a while.

you hesitantly placed your head on annie's shoulder, making her tense up for a few seconds, before she slowly relaxed, just her presence bringing you comfort. "maybe you're right, annie." you sighed one again, before the two of you sat in comfortable silence for the next few minutes.

sasha braus

walking away from the mess hall, your gaze was glued to the ground under your feet, while being lost in your thoughts. "y/n!" sudden female voice calling out your name, with rushed footsteps following, made you snap out of your own head, as you swiftly turned around to see the person running towards you.

"y/n, finally!" it was sasha, who was chasing after you, now out of breath from all the running. "sasha?" you slightly cocked your head to the side. "is everything alright? you seemed off back there." pointing at the mess hall behind her, sasha furrowed her eyebrows at you. "um, yeah-" you rubbed the back of your neck, sitting down on the bench on your right side, with sasha following right after you.

"it's just that my family was supposed to come visit me today, but they couldn't make it, so i'm little disappointed, you know?" you explained, as sasha was carefully listening to you the entire time. "y/n... i'm sorry about that, but i bet they'll be able to make it the next time!" sasha placed her hand on your shoulder in a comforting manner, trying to cheer you up.

"here! i stole it for later, but you need it now." getting out a potato, sasha held it out to you, as you accepted with a soft chuckle. "thanks, sasha." after thanking her, sasha threw her arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to her. "you're welcome, y/n." a beaming smile appeared on sasha's face, causing the nerves in your stomach flutter, before copying her actions and smiling right back at her.

mikasa ackerman

the hurtful words coming from a random group of boys never left your head, as you slowly walked up to one of the tables in the mess hall. not paying any attention to your surroundings, with your head hanging low, a quiet call of your name made your head quickly snap to the side. "oh, hi mikasa." you greeted the female next to you.

"how was your day, y/n?" mikasa continued to enjoy her food, while sparing a few glances at you. "it was fine. what about you?" you said bluntly. "my day was alright. what did they said to you?" this time mikasa's gaze never left her plate, as you furrowed your eyebrows at her. "huh? what are you talking about?"

"it looks like whatever they said, it wasn't anything nice." mikasa finally looked up, causing you to sigh in defeat. "they just called me names and stuff, but it's fine. it really is." you explained, your eyes widening at mikasa's next moves. "what- mikasa, where are you going?" worriedly whisper-yelling, you grabbed mikasa's wrist, stopping her from standing up and walking away towards the boys.

as she sat back down, you let go of her wrist, letting your hand fall down on your own thigh. "just ignore them, they're just bunch of idiots." you muttered, slowly shaking your head from side to side. "that doesn't give them a permission to call you names, y/n." mikasa said, her glare still glued on the group of boys not too far away from you two.

you sighed at the sight of them, their words not leaving your head, as you started to slowly dig into your food. a sudden touch on the hand resting on your thigh made your gaze snap towards it, a warm feeling appearing in your chest, when mikasa gently placed her hand on top of yours, brushing it with her thumb in a comforting way. for the rest of the day mikasa haven't left your side, making sure you were alright, and from time to time she send those same boys death glares.

ymir

you and ymir sat down by a tree, your back leaning against it for a support, while the sun started to set in the background. quietly sighing, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes, before taking a deep breath in.

the second you opened your eyes this morning, you felt strange and that lead you to feel sad, after overthinking for almost the entire day. everyone has a bad days, so you decided to not to annoy anyone with your current bad mood. you maybe haven't told anyone about how you feel, but your close friends noticed and kept worrying, yet your answer was always ,, "i'm just tired."

"so, what is it? and don't tell me you're just tired, because i don't believe that crap." ymir made you snap out of your thoughts, before .you looked down in defeat. "i don't really know... i tend to overthink a lot, and that can mess up my whole mood." explaining, you kept your gaze on the ground.

ymir placed her arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to her side. "it's gonna be alright." muttering, ymir rubbed the side of your arm, as you placed your head on her shoulder, closing your eyes for a few seconds. "how about we go annoy that creep reiner, to take your mind off it, huh?" a smirk appeared on ymir's face, while you pulled away from her side hug, softly chuckling at her idea. "of course i'm in."

historia reiss

you sighed, sitting down on of the benches close to the training grounds. you couldn't help, but feel tired and odd the entire day, after having nightmares last night, causing you to feel sad in the process. you watched as others made their ways to the barracks, while laughing and chatting between each other.

in the corner of your eye, you could see another person with golden locks sitting down on the other side of the bench, yet you payed no mind to them, getting lost in your own tired thoughts. "y/n?" a female voice called out your name in a soft tone, causing you to finally look to the side at whoever joined you at the moment.

"historia? hi." you greeted her with a small smile. "is everything okay? you seem little off." historia slightly furrowed her eyebrows at you, wearing a worried expression. "oh, yeah. i'm just not feeling myself today, but thank you for the concern." you answered, earning a small nod from historia.

"well, would you maybe like to talk about it?" historia worriedly asked. "here?" you looked around, noticing in every corner there's at least three people, causing you to not have any privacy at the moment.

"we can go for a walk. how does that sound?" historia stood up from the bench, holding out her hand for you. "i'd like that." accepting her hand, you smiled, as historia intertwined your fingers together. gently swinging your hands, you couldn't help, but notice historia's concern, which somehow slowly made you feel better.

part two : coming soon

213 notes · View notes

leslye-anne · 2 years

Text

Combinación de dibujos nuevos con viejos. Por qué? Porque quiero mostrar mi ship de oc x canon, si, como no shipeo a mugman con nadie del juego y menos con Boris o nadie más

Pues le hice una novia, o bueno, la junte con un oc que ya tenía que es una demonio, por qué? Porque la ironía, derrotó a un demonio y al final anda con uno, además me gusta su temática: Chico nerd x amazona

_Combination of new drawings with old. Why? Because I want to show my oc x canon ship, yes, since I don't ship mugman with anyone from the game and less with Boris or anyone else

Well, I made him a girlfriend, or well, I put him together with an oc that I already had who is a demon, why? Because the irony, he defeated a demon and in the end he walks with one, I also like his theme: Nerdy boy x amazon

Tenemos su versión original, el modo genderbend, el Yuri y su versión Bl, aunque tenga el headcannon que Mugman es más hetero que su hermano solo por tener el popote derecho XD

Encima lo hice ángel a mi oc en un AU diferente, de mugman evil, mugman Bad end o como yo le llamo, Chaos, por una razón algo rarita

_We have his original version, the genderbend mode, the Yuri and his Bl version, although he has the headcannon that Mugman is more straight than his brother just because he has the right straw XD

On top of that I made him an angel to my oc in a different AU, from mugman evil , mugman Bad end or as I call him, Chaos, for a rather strange reason

Mi niña emily en su versión genderbend se llama emmett y mugman en modo fem se llama mugsy (o bueno aún no se me ocurre algo mejor)

(agregando a evil de fondo siendo el hermano sobreprotector que es, pero bien pana de mi oc emmett o emily, larga historia)

_My girl emily in her genderbend version is called emmett and mugman in fem mode is called mugsy (or well I still can't think of something better)

(adding evil in the background being the overprotective brother that he is, but good friend of my oc emmett or emily, long story)

#cuphead dont deal with the devil #batim oc #mugman #oc x canon #genderbend #evil cuphead #cuphead au

10 notes · View notes

reinersbb · 3 years

Text

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Five- Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy PT.1

Chapter Five Part One of Forget

Orange, black, and purple plastic solo cups littered the dewy grass along with other miscellaneous speckles of trash- some cups still retaining remnants of alcohol. Only ten o'clock at night and there was already a headache of a cleanup worth of mess outside on the front lawn. There was no telling how much worse it would be on the inside where the heart and soul of the party was. But it's not like after-party cleanup would be your problem to deal with.

Carved jack-o-lanterns that were once originally placed along the long walkway leading up to the front door of the frat house were smashed and overturned. Stringy pumpkin guts and seeds clung to the porous pavement of the walkway, some of the pumpkin innards in the grass. A collection of large oak trees in the front lawn were decorated with ominous purple lights. The flickering light cascaded across the grass, bouncing off the glass of littered alcohol bottles.

As you transitioned onto the property from the bustling street of roaming party-goers from different frat homes all around, the music and shouts from within the home ahead of you seemed almost loud enough to shatter its' windows. The base of your heels clicked against the pavement out of excitement as you trailed up the property.

A gust of wind hit your overly exposed flesh, and a chill of excitement tickled your vertebrae. While you were pulling the silk robe you wore over your body to cover yourself, short wolf-whistles from a group of drunk party-goers who'd barely managed to stand up straight caught your attention. The intoxicated faces that wore skewed face paint waved to you, catcalling you, wanting nothing else but your attention, but, you ignored them and continued onto the covered porch. Anywhere away from the blabbering drunk so-and-so's who were floundering in the lawn is a place where you wanted to be.

The front door that belonged to the home was left completely open, and you couldn't tell if the people passing through were coming or going. But you pushed your way through and sure enough, you were finally inside and one with the chaos that was the Halloween party. You already knew that this party was more hectic than the last one you attended.

Spirits were high, and the energy emitting from the room you now stood in practically zapped you.

One look alone at the hoard of people around you had you wishing that you would've at least asked Ymir to cancel her late-night movie date with Historia so they could follow along with you tonight instead. You weren't sure if you could handle a party like this all by yourself.

Managing to shuffle away from the front door, you stood aside and reached for your phone that you'd been holding in your small purse. Taking a quick look around at all the flashy details of costumes, your eyes dug down at your phone screen.

Today 22:46 Hey Jean, I'm here...

Though it wasn't out of spite or pettiness, a handful of hours is how long you left Jean's messages on seen. You decided earlier in the day to take it upon yourself and show up and surprise him with your arrival instead of messaging beforehand so that way he wouldn't expect a thing.

After your message was sent, all you had to do was find Jean. Or he had to find you. Seemed simple enough, but with one look at the crowd, you knew it wouldn't be such an easy task to tackle. Even if Jean was nearby, how would you be able to pick him out of the crowd?

There were many, and if not all, people wearing costumes. Even if by chance you were to know tons of people, they'd be hardly recognizable to you. So trying to catch a face would be worthless.

A singular buzz from your phone had you checking your lock-screen within an instant. Sure enough, it was a response from Jean.

Jean: Where are you?

Just as you were about to start at your reply, the chat bubble from the receiving end disrupted you. But as you watched and waited, the chat bubbles disappeared without any further sign of reappearing.

Then somehow you heard Jean's voice shouting your name over the crowd.

But where?

You couldn't help but look like a maniac as you scanned your surroundings. You were trying to recall which direction you heard his tenor voice last when suddenly two large hands skewed your vision. Instantaneously your hands went flying upward, dropping your phone mid-process as you felt at his wrists as he stood close behind you.

You yelped a response, "Jean!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Jean's hands lowered from your face, allowing you to see clearly once again. "Let me get that," you watched as his hand reached for your phone that was on the ground.

Jean fell into your line of sight as you turned on your heel to face him. Both of you went wide-eyed as both of you took each other in, examining each other's costume. Your phone that was now dangling at his fingertips was almost dropped for a second time out of Jean's surprise.

"Are you... a cowboy?" You managed to make the first remark.

Covering Jeans' head was a worn chocolate brown cowboy hat, along with a matching colored mid-thigh coat. His hair was tucked under the hat, only the ends of his hair billowing out. Though like always, the black studded earrings were still imprinted in both his earlobes. A red paisley bandana covered up the neck of his button-up shirt. Dark faded blue jeans covered his long legs and a large belt buckle hung at his hips. The cuffs of his jeans swamped worn down brown pointed boots. His cheeks seemed to be more defined while somehow his facial hair seemed to be darkened and unruly.

His ruggedness was hot.

Jean cleared his throat before attempting to speak with his best cowboy impressions, "you betcha', cowgirl." Jean paused for a beat, mainly to gather his words, "now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm assuming you're dressed as a playboy bunny?"

"Bingo. How do you like my costume? Historia and Ymir helped me come up with the idea."

Promptly, you corrected your bunny ears that'd been pushed out of place from his surprise attack. Jean silently raked your appearance in from head to toe, his tongue caught on his lip as if he were about to say something but he hesitated, almost like he was nervous. Even if he was nervous, he most certainly wouldn't let you know that.

Eventually, he gulped, and through his parted lips he spoke, "I- I like it, your costume puts mine to shame. Also, I think the colors red and black suit you well."

If it weren't for the off-put lighting of different color hues, you would've been able to notice the radiating peach glow on his cheeks.

"Thanks, your cowboy costume isn't so bad either," you teased, tipping the front of his hat down over his brow line. "That's payback for making me drop my phone."

Jean chuckled, lifting the hat from his head, allowing the locks of his hair to fall across his forehead aimlessly. His long fingers ran through his hair, pushing his amber strands back before setting the cowboy hat back on his head.

After the quick readjustment, Jean's eyes were on you, "by the way, thanks for showing up tonight."

"Oh, it's no big deal," you admitted when in reality you'd spent hours getting ready, regardless of how nonchalant you'd made your previous statement out to be.

In the back of your mind, you wanted to look good tonight since you knew Jean would be at the party. You didn't care about the technicalities or the thoughts and ideas people would make of you from your attire alone. But you wouldn't admit it.

You were uncertain for how long you had been staring at Jean for, that and you were also uncertain of close the two of you were standing next to each other until you were randomly pushed from behind by a passerby. Jean of course caught ahold of you as you went stumbling forward. Jean helped stabilize your footing by holding onto your arms.

There was a scowl on his face as he stared off into the crowd, searching for the person who carelessly bumped into you. The disgruntled look on his face was hardly noticeable if you weren't paying enough attention, but sure enough, there was a scowl on his face.

"Are you okay?" Jean's eyes were back on you, "they didn't even stop to apologize to you."

"It's alright, Jean, it's not like I got hurt or anything, and they're probably too drunk to function."

"You know you're probably right," even though it seemed like he didn't want to give up that easily, Jean carefully took ahold of your wrist, "will you follow me?"

You attempted to speak over the blaring background noise, "okay, where are we going?"

Jean turned his head back for only a second so he could respond as he began to walk, "you'll see."

The next room the two of you entered wasn't as packed as the entrance of the house, but still as lively. A table with solo cups at either side was folded out and there were two teams tossing ping pong balls back and forth, taking a drink from the orange solo cups when directed. A hoard of people surrounded the table, but you managed to get a vision of the action.

"Beer pong?" You talked over the commotion, taking a glance at Jean before back at the table.

"Have you ever played before?"

"Back in high school, I've played a handful of times but I completely sucked at the game. I haven't won, not even a single time."

"Let's see if your luck has changed any and see if we can break that losing streak of yours," Jean finally released your wrist to go talk to a man who'd been standing near the game table.

The unknown man was dressed in black pants and a white and black striped shirt, like one of those burglars you see in children's cartoons. Under a black beanie, he had blond hair and was built, his well-toned muscles were flexed as his arms wrapped around his chest while talking with Jean. Next to the blond was a much taller man, who was even taller than Jean by at least two to three inches, who wore a similar costume as the blond.

"Hey! Are you a friend of Jean?" An alto-toned voice called out from your right as you felt a knuckle tap on your shoulder.

A tall man with a freckle-kissed face and chocolate brown eyes beamed at you, his expression was laced with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. His hair was parted and styled like a man from the eighties, and he wore a red puffer jacket over a denim jacket. Instantly you thought he was dressed as Marty McFly from Back To The Future.

"I guess you could say that, yes," you said, unsure if a straight yes or no would be correct.

"Okay, cool! I'm Marco, Jean's best friend. I haven't seen you around before, where did you guys meet?"

"I met him through my mutuals at a party last Saturday-" you paused for a beat, remembering the first actual encounter you had with Jean. "Actually, the first time I ever met him is when I quite literally ran into him. It was horrible, I spilled my latte and everything."

You'd have Jean pay you back for that latte one day, even if you were the one that barged into him. And that was a promise.

Just then, those chocolate brown eyes of his flashed for a split second. His thick eyebrows rose and fell and the corners of his lips struggled to keep from lifting into a knowing smirk.

"Before I forget to ask, what is your name?"

Whenever you told Marco your name, his eyes darted over towards Jean's direction then back at you. There was a weird expression on his face that you couldn't put your finger on, it almost seemed like he knew something that you didn't.

Your eyebrow lifted, "what's the matter, Marco?"

"Marco!" Jean finally reappeared from the beer pong table, almost standing in between you and Marco.

Jean glanced at you and back to Marco.

"Wait, what were you two talking about?" Jean shifted towards you slightly, a shadow falling across his brow from the cowboy hat he was wearing.

His defensive side caused suspicion to arise inside of you. Had he been hiding something from you?

"We-"

You'd attempted to speak, but Marco beat you to it, "nothing, Jean, I was just introducing myself to your friend."

Jean stared at Marco for a few seconds, like he was carefully reading the man with chocolate eyes.

Suddenly, there was a loud cheer, almost like an explosion from the table. Then there was a harsh whistle that zipped through the other commotion which caught Jean's attention entirely.

"Jean! Come on, you're up against me and Bert," the same man that Jean was talking to previously informed.

"Come on," Jean motioned for you to follow him, "let's get you that win."

Across from you stood the same two men who Jean had been talking to previously. Apparently, the blond's name was Reiner and the other went by Bert, or Berty, however, the blond cooed. While Marco stood off to the side of both you and Jean, loaning you his friendly support and cheering both of you on.

As the game commenced, Jean stood close beside you the whole time, giving you a few tips and tricks here and there to help sink the ball. You noted how nice it felt when he held onto your wrist one time to imitate a fake swish. Or how nice it felt when you actually sunk a ball into a cup and Jean would congratulate you by pulling your body against him into a side hug.

You felt at the top of the world, soaring all high and mighty. There was a slight buzz kicking in already from the cups of beer you had to drink, and Jean even decided to help you out with most of them by downing the liquid. He'd pluck the cup up from the table, and before dipping his head back, he'd glance at you with a knowing look with his intense eyes over the brim of the cup.

Your fingers accidentally laced with his momentarily as you high-fived one another after Jean scored your team another point. Soon after your mini celebration was cut short, Jean rolled his eyes whenever Reiner's ball bounced into your team's orange cup. Reluctantly his slender fingers grasped the brittle material and downed the beer.

With the back of his wrist, he wiped the corners of his mouth, "we just need to score the last cup," Jean placed a hand on your shoulder, his excited eyes staring into yours.

"What if I mess up?" You kept your eyes only on Jean.

"You won't."

With that, you sucked a breath in through your nose and exhaled steadily. The music was continuously bumping in the background while you rinsed off your ball in the discard cup. Your chest was thumping, and there was a ringing sensation beginning to sound.

The game was currently tied up. One to one. Reiner and Bert stood adjacent to you and Jean. Both men waved their hands in front of the cup as you aimed for the center.

Once the ball was tossed and in mid-air after its' first bounce, their hands ripped away, and almost as if it were playing in slow motion, the ball landed in the cup. The contents sloshing around slightly on impact as your ball sank into the depths of the plastic. Reiner sighed and plucked the ball out and drank the beer from the remaining cup you happened to score.

An eruption of emotions spilled out of you and everyone else around you. To your surprise, you felt Jean ease his arms around you, swiftly lifting you and spinning you in a victory hug. Naturally, you melted into Jean's touch as he held you up from the ground.

"We did it, Jean! Thank you so much for believing in me."

"It's no problem, I knew that you could do it, but I do enjoy the praise."

If it weren't for Eren walking up and interrupting both of you, the moment of celebration with Jean would've lasted much longer.

You would've preferred that outcome.

"Jean, Marco," A slap on Jeans' shoulder came from Eren, "I've been looking for you two and everyone else, Porco wants us downstairs," Eren was practically already shit-faced.

When Eren's shiny emerald eyes caught ahold of yours, he stopped to smile and greet you. He couldn't believe that he'd overlooked you for that short moment.

"You- a playboy bunny? Damn, if I would've known you'd come dressed as that I would've come dressed as Hugh Hefner," Eren held a bottle pointed at you as he took your appearance in, "don't be a stranger, you should join us downstairs."

"Now, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"It's okay, Jean," you reassured the tall figure, "it sounds like it will be fun."

Your heels clapped against the hard flooring after stepping away from Jean who finally let you back onto the ground. Instead of walking with Jean, you stayed behind him as he walked with Marco, and Eren was already way ahead of the two men. You enjoyed watching Jean and Marco converse from behind, and also you noticed how lively they seemed to be when talking to each other.

Much to your Amusement, you immediately noticed out of the crowd of people in the basement that both Connie and Sasha were wearing matching crayon costumes. Connie was the color green and Sasha was yellow.

"Over here, you guys!" Connie practically fell over his own feet as he grabbed your small group's attention.

Though, another face, another painstakingly familiar face caught your attention.

'Why the hell is he here?'

Floch never showed up to parties, so why now of all times?

You stilled in your tracks, unsure of what to do. Do you approach the group and be awkward because of your ex-boyfriend? Or do you stop, turn around, and head back out instantly without another word spoken?

You noticed when Jean turned his head over his shoulder to look back at you, almost like he somehow noticed or felt a shift in the atmosphere around your group. His lips turned from a crooked smirk from talking to Marco into a slight frown as he gazed at you. Jean paused from marching alongside Marco to glide back and meet up with you.

Naturally, Marco turned on his heel to question what was up and why both of you stopped following, and all Jean did was encourage him to carry on and that the two of you would only take a second.

You appreciated Jean's concerns, but you didn't know what to say to him, what could you possibly say to him without making him uncomfortable?

"What's wrong?" Jean asked as he finally approached you.

"He," your eyes found comfort by staring at the ground you were standing on, "he's here."

"What do you mean?" Jean looked around momentarily before looking back at you, "who's here?"

There wasn't much time to waste, not if you wanted to make your conflicting emotions noticeable to the others who were waiting for all four of you to join them. You definitely didn't want Floch to notice how bothered you were by his presence.

What was he doing here anyway? He never was the one to attend parties, he even said so himself.

"My ex-boyfriend," you spoke dryly, almost unable to be heard if Jean weren't listening well enough.

Without another word spoken, you lifted your head, Jean took the cue to follow your eyes where Floch was seated. You watched as the redhead enjoyed a beverage from his orange cup, laughing at something with a man with short brown hair, whom you didn't recognize.

"Who? That guy is your ex?" Jean asked, paying close attention to you while gesturing towards Floch.

"Yeah, the redhead, I didn't think he'd be here tonight," you exhaled an uneasy breath of air, "he was never the one for parties. God, I don't want him to ruin my night, I've been having so much fun and-"

"So then don't let him ruin your night," Jean took ahold of your hand, interlacing your fingers with his, "I have an idea."

Your eyes flashed with excitement at the hand-to-hand contact with Jean, "what's your idea?"

Jean's stern eyes softened for a split second, almost like he were telling you to trust him. Without any debate on the matter, you swallowed your nerves and squeezed Jean's fingers with your own, embracing the comforting heat of his palm on yours. You could only notice how relaxed your hand was in his, the feeling was familiar and soothing, something you could get used to if given the chance.

"Hey guys," Jean spoke to the large friend group, taking a seat beside Marco on the couch.

The group of people was much larger this time around. You recognized some faces from previous encounters at the last party, while some faces you hadn't seen before, and some were completely unrecognizable due to their costumes. More people were standing idly by away from your group talking to one another, some were dancing, and there were others preoccupied at the wet bar. You noticed that there was a small group huddled around a pool table, but decided to_ ignore_ the pool table.

Without anywhere else to sit due to limited space around, you hesitated briefly until Jean pulled you onto his lap. With a squeal, you adjusted yourself, crossing your legs quaintly as you delicately sat on his lap. This whole time from holding hands with Jean till now you've avoided looking towards the direction Floch was sitting in, but you noticed that his lips had gone still, and movement of his had ceased.

Maybe he was jealous by seeing you and Jean together, hand in hand. But that was a good thing, right?

Jean's large palm draped on your hip delicately, no, hesitantly, almost like he was unsure to touch you. His palm hovered across the material of your silk robe, feeling the intricate indentations of the more risqué undergarments underneath. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable by the way he was holding onto you, all he could do was hope you wouldn't mind. But, considering your past encounter with Jean, he thought something so simple as having his hand placed on your hip didn't match up to the extremity of the last personal encounter you two shared.

Connie and Sasha struck up a conversation with you as soon as you were comfortably seated. Jean and Marco casually joined in on the conversation and all five of you sat talking amongst yourselves out of the group of well over a dozen.

There were the occasional cut-ins from Eren or the blond whose name was Armin that you'd seen from yesterday, but you didn't mind. There was also a man who was named Niccolo that appeared from upstairs who joined in, he brought two beers with him and wiggled his way to sit in between Sasha and Connie, mostly leaning into Sasha though as he gave her one of the beverages he'd been holding. The more the merrier you thought.

As long as it wasn't Floch joining in, you didn't mind.

The conversation was cut to a halt when a man with dirty blond hair that was slicked back cleared his throat to speak. The blond wore a black leather jacket, with a white t-shirt underneath and faded blue jeans covering his legs. Sitting next to him was another male who wore a similar matching costume, sans jacket and his hair was only a little messier than the blonds, with his hair falling out of place but still kept back. They looked to be dressed like a character out of the book _The Outsiders, _like greasers.

"How about we all play a little game?"

"What kind of game, Pock?" A woman with thick black hair asked, her arm lazily dragged across the man's shoulder as she tipped her head out of curiosity.

"Pieck, I told you to stop calling me that," the blond seemed to be easily frustrated by the single comment.

Which only resulted in a soft laugh from Pieck, "alrighty then, Porco."

The irritate state seemed to blow over quickly, and Porco now was back on track with his original train of thought, "anyways, I was thinking of..." Porco glanced around the vast group for a moment, "a little game of truth or dare?"

"Truth or dare? Don't you think that's a little middle schoolish, baby brother?" The man sitting beside him with brown hair asked playfully, visibly striking a nerve in Porco.

"Shut up," Porco hissed at his brother, "it's my party, so I get the say in what we do, so if _you _don't like it, Marcel, then you can leave. It's as easy as that," Porco pulled a bottle of bud light to his lips before tipping his head back to take a drink. "And that goes for everyone else too, if you don't like it, then leave."

Though, with the invitation to leave if warranted, no one got up from their seat. And you could tell that Jean hadn't even considered the option of leaving since he made no effort to move, and neither did you. But, naturally, you turned your head over your shoulder just to ask him and make sure. What you didn't anticipate was the proximity that both of your faces would be to each other once you turned to look back at him.

You stilled on Jean's lap, the breath you sucked in practically caught in your throat at his closeness, "Jean," you almost asked in a hushed tone, "do you want to play?"

"Of course," his smile disappeared briefly, but not because he was unhappy, "I mean unless you don't then we can go somewhere-"

"No," you smiled, aimlessly turning back to face the crowd as you'd once been, "I'd like to play, all I need is a drink to start the pace," you admitted, eyes falling onto Floch after turning back forward.

————————

"You have to do the dare, Bert," the man from the opposing team you played against earlier, who you now knew as Reiner, spoke out, encouraging his tall friend and the girl he was with.

Currently, Bertholdt was to take a body shot off of the girl's stomach. The poor boy was flustered out of his mind, his tan cheeks were a deep shade of pink as he leaned towards the girl. Bert dipped down to her naval, sucking out the alcohol from her belly button. Whistles and cheers sounded out from the crowd when Bert pulled his face back, downing the shot of booze.

"Atta champ," Reiner slapped Bertholdt on his back, causing Bert to cough up a sputter on the alcohol that lingered in his throat.

Bertholdt shrugged his shoulder over his mouth, eliminating any residual of alcohol on his lips.

Currently, you were a few turns in of a modified version of truth or dare. But instead of truths, there were only dares, or you had to take a drink for bailing. The game and its' rules reminded you of the spin-the-bottle game you played last Saturday.

"Drink or dare," you scanned across the crowd, thinking of a victim to pick, "Sasha."

"Dare, obviously," she elbowed Connie in the rib playfully, waiting to hear the poison you picked for her.

A mischievous grin developed on your eager lips, you had just the dare in mind for Sasha.

"I dare you to go lock yourself in a room with Niccolo for ten minutes," you pointed to a room just a few feet away from your group.

Niccolo sputtered out of embarrassment, he was surprised that you'd dare Sasha to do something like that. But Sasha, she wasn't the one to complain over a dare. So, she hopped up on her feet and waited for Niccolo to follow.

Though you only crafted this dare mostly as a joke, you knew well that this dare would also help the two jump-start their relationship in the right direction. You came to that conclusion solely by observing how the two had been interacting with each other so far.

Niccolo seemed to be interested in Sasha but, of course, was hesitant, while Sasha on the other hand was oblivious to Niccolo's advances.

Before Sasha entered the nearby room, she shot you a glance, a glance that could read 'you'll pay for this later.'

After receiving quick congratulatory praise from Eren and Connie due to daring Sasha and Niccolo to do such a thing, both men signaled to Jean that it was now his turn to dare someone.

"Who's it going to be, Jean?" pulling your chin back over your shoulder, you stopped to look at the man you were sitting on.

His fingers that were slack against you suddenly gripped your body slightly. Jean's index finger vaguely tapped against you where he held onto, before combing all fingertips against your flesh in a soothing manner.

Without a second glance around the room, Jean spoke with his head slightly tilted, his eyes on and only on you, "I dare you to kiss me."

#attack on titan #Jean #jean smut #Jean Kirschstein #aot smut #jean kirschtein smut

54 notes · View notes

russelramharack · 3 years

Text

Acting “as if” gives people opportunities to enact best possible outcomes or to create new stories about their lives. Asking people to pretend helps them get past resistance to change by reducing the risk. Acting “as if” can also feel risky.

In an inspiring documentary film called. “Act as if” Kathy Delaney-Smith, the head women's basketball coach at Harvard University. Kathy, who comes from a working class background and didn't have much basketball or coaching experience, used the power of "acting as if" to become a very successful coach at one of the most elite institutions in the world. She has also used her "act as if" philosophy to teach, train, and inspire her players both on the off the court for the past thirty years.

There is greatness in all of us.

I believe it is possible.

Follow your dreams.

Please Like and Share.

Actuar “como si” les brinda a las personas la oportunidad de representar los mejores resultados posibles o de crear nuevas historias sobre sus vidas. Pedirle a la gente que finja les ayuda a superar la resistencia al cambio al reducir el riesgo. Actuar "como si" también puede parecer arriesgado.

En una inspiradora película documental llamada. "Actúa como si" Kathy Delaney-Smith, la entrenadora principal de baloncesto femenino en la Universidad de Harvard. Kathy, quien proviene de la clase trabajadora y no tenía mucha experiencia en baloncesto o como entrenadora, usó el poder de "actuar como si" para convertirse en una entrenadora muy exitosa en una de las instituciones más elitistas del mundo. También ha utilizado su filosofía de "actuar como si" para enseñar, entrenar e inspirar a sus jugadores tanto fuera de la cancha durante los últimos treinta años.

Hay grandeza en todos nosotros.

Creo que es posible.

Sigue tus sueños.

Por favor, me gusta y comparte.

Agir “como se” dá às pessoas oportunidades de representar os melhores resultados possíveis ou de criar novas histórias sobre suas vidas. Pedir às pessoas que finjam as ajuda a superar a resistência à mudança, reduzindo o risco. Agir “como se” também pode parecer arriscado.

Em um documentário inspirador chamado. “Aja como se” Kathy Delaney-Smith, a treinadora-chefe de basquete feminino da Universidade de Harvard. Kathy, que vem de uma formação de classe trabalhadora e não tinha muita experiência em basquete ou treinadora, usou o poder de "agir como se" para se tornar uma treinadora de muito sucesso em uma das instituições de elite do mundo. Ela também usou sua filosofia de "agir como se" para ensinar, treinar e inspirar seus jogadores fora da quadra nos últimos trinta anos.

Existe grandeza em todos nós.

Eu acredito que é possível.

Siga seus sonhos.

Por favor, curta e compartilhe.

#success #imagine your otp #motivation #lovely #positive thoughts #self care #youtube #self help #money #happiness #wealth #positive thinking #all things considered

20 notes · View notes

mate1959 · 3 years

Text

2021-08-11

Der Chemotherapie-Blues hat mich endgültig eingeholt. Die Tage plätschern relativ eintönig vor sich hin. Im Moment spüre ich keine gravierenden Nebenwirkungen. In den letzten Tagen ist nun ein leichtes Schwindelgefühl hinzugekommen, das mich begleitet und im Hintergrund zu lauern scheint. Deshalb habe ich beschlossen, momentan auf Autofahren zu verzichten. Auch mit dem Velofahren wird es wohl momentan nichts. Am Freitag habe ich dann wieder einen Bluttest.

Etwas, was mich immer wieder beschäftigt oder womit ich konfrontiert bin ist die Reaktion von Menschen, denen ich begegne und mit denen ich geschäftsmässig/beruflich zu tun habe und die mir nicht so nahestehen. Die einen erzählen, um mich positiv zu stimmen, gleich blutrünstige Geschichten von Bekannten, die am Ende dann doch gut ausgehen. "Er hat zwar nur noch eine halbe Lunge, aber sonst ist er topfit und macht Sport". Andere reagieren sehr reserviert, ich merke, dass es sie beschäftigt, sie aber nicht so recht wissen, wie mir gegenüber damit umzugehen. Und sie getrauen sich kaum, mich auf das Thema anzusprechen. Viele legen eine Art Schonprogramm auf. Wie wenn sie jetzt besonders nett zu mir sein müssen. Wieder andere reagieren eher stigmatisierend. Oder ich empfinde das alles so? Bin jetzt sensibler auf Signale? Am Schluss kommt dann auch noch meine eigene Einschätzung, mein eigenes Empfinden dazu, warum vielleicht jemand so reagiert und dass es vielleicht ja gar nichts mit mir zu tun hat.

Lungenkrebs ist immerhin etwas Fassbares, Konkretes. Ich kann Menschen mit einer psychischen Beeinträchtigung, die nicht sichtbar ist, nun besser verstehen. Dort kommt oft noch ein Unverständnis dazu und eine Einschätzung, dass diese Person schwach ist. Das wird dann nicht als Krankheit akzeptiert. Und das ist schade.

Ich persönlich habe es am liebsten, wenn man unverkrampft auf mich zugeht. Es ist wie es ist und ich bin immer noch derselbe.

The chemotherapy blues finally caught up with me. The days are relatively monotonous. At the moment I don't feel any serious side effects. In the last few days, a slight feeling of dizziness has come along and seems to be lurking in the background. Therefore, I have decided to refrain from driving for the moment. I don't think I'll be able to ride a bike at the moment either. On Friday I have another blood test.

Something I am always thinking about or confronted with is the reaction of people I meet and with whom I have business/professional dealings and who are not so close to me. Some of them, in order to make me feel positive, immediately tell bloodthirsty stories about acquaintances, which end well in the end. "He has only half a lung, but otherwise he's in great shape and does a lot of sports. Others react very reservedly, I notice that they are preoccupied, but they don't really know how to deal with it. And they hardly dare to address me on the subject. Many of them put on a kind of "gentle" program. As if they had to be especially nice to me now. Still others react in a stigmatizing way. Or is that how I feel about it all? Am I more sensitive to signals now? In the end, there is also my own assessment, my own feeling, why someone might react this way and that it might have nothing to do with me.

After all, lung cancer is something tangible, something concrete. I can now better understand people with a mental illness which is not visible. There is often an added lack of understanding and an assessment that this person is weak. This is then not accepted as an illness. And that is a pity.

Personally, I like it best when people approach me in an uninhibited way. It is what it is and I am still the same.

La melancolía de la quimioterapia por fin me ha alcanzado. Los días son relativamente monótonos. Por el momento, no siento ningún efecto secundario grave. En los últimos días ha aparecido una ligera sensación de mareo que parece estar al acecho. Por eso he decidido no conducir por el momento. Tampoco creo que pueda ir en bicicleta por el instante. El viernes tengo otro análisis de sangre.

Algo que siempre me preocupa o confronta es la reacción de las personas que conozco y trato en mi vida empresarial/profesional y que no son tan cercanas a mí. Algunos cuentan historias sanguinarias sobre conocidos para hacerme sentir positivo, pero al final salen bien. "Sólo le queda medio pulmón, pero por lo demás está en plena forma y hace deporte". Otros reaccionan de forma muy reservada, noto que les preocupa, pero no saben realmente cómo afrontarlo. Y apenas se atreven a dirigirse a mí sobre el tema. Muchos de ellos ponen algún tipo de programa para prendas delicadas. Como si ahora tuvieran que ser especialmente amables conmigo. Otros reaccionan de forma estigmatizante. ¿O es así como me siento con todo esto? ¿Soy más sensible a las señales ahora? Al final, también está mi propia valoración, mi propio sentimiento, de por qué alguien puede reaccionar así y que puede no tener nada que ver conmigo.

Después de todo, el cáncer de pulmón es algo tangible, concreto. Ahora puedo entender mejor a las personas con una discapacidad mental que no es visible. A menudo se añade la falta de comprensión y la valoración de que esta persona es débil. En ese caso, no se acepta como enfermedad. Y eso es una pena.

Personalmente, me gusta más cuando la gente se acerca a mí de forma desinhibida. Es lo que es y sigo siendo el mismo.

1 note · View note

cicelythereaper · 4 years

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you had anything on Y Gododdin 😃

hey! fellow gododdin enthusiast! what a delight

i presume this is a request for reading recommendations - i don’t know exactly what you’re looking for, or how accessible these will be, but i’ve tried to cover most bases here. i WISH there were more literary criticism, maybe there is in the welsh-language scholarship and i just haven’t found it?

it’s entirely possible that i will have missed some obvious things here, i’m mostly sticking to stuff that i personally have read. if something mind-blowing has come out since the last time i did gododdin reading then it’s not here, i’m afraid!

but enough disclaimers. on to the recs!

text and translation:

for a translation, i cannot recommend enough joseph p. clancy’s translation as found in the triumph tree: scotland’s earliest poetry, 550-1350, ed. t. o. clancy (1998). this is fantastic. it’s poetic, it’s a joy to read, and having used it as part of a deep read last year where i went through the welsh text in detail i am honestly AMAZED regularly at how well clancy handles the many translation issues that arise. it’s loose, and it doesn’t translate every single stanza unfortunately, but for the spirit of the poem you really can’t do better

that said, if you need another translation to check against/to fill in the gaps, i’d recommend kenneth jackson’s the gododdin: the oldest scottish poem (1969). it’s a prose translation, so it’s harder to use in conjunction with the text, but it’s pretty clear and accurate

text-wise... things get complicated. honestly, the best edition is probably still ifor williams’ canu aneirin (1938), in terms of faithfulness to the words on the manuscript page. (i also really enjoy his textual commentary, but it is in modern welsh so not accessible to everyone.) the major problem with it is that you are not going to get the stanzas in the order they appear in the manuscript - he reorders them into groups of perceived variants. this also makes it harder to distinguish between the A-text and the B-text. AND it means that the stanzas are not in the same order as in any of the translations!

if you can get hold of it, i really really think it is worth having daniel huws’ llyfr aneirin: a facsimile (1989). the introduction is SO useful for understanding the manuscript context, and it comes with gwenogvryn evans’ transcription of the book of aneirin, which you can compare with williams’ edition if need be to work out where a stanza actually goes.

there’s a conspectus of editions which i think thomas owen clancy put together but i cannot for the LIFE of me remember where it is - if you think you’ll need it, PM me and i’ll see what i can do

dating, textual criticism and historicity:

t. m. charles-edwards, wales and the britons, 350-1064 (2013), chapter 11 - this is from more of a historical perspective than a strictly linguistic/palaeographical/dating perspective, but it’s a really good general introduction and i definitely recommend starting with it. if you read nothing else, read this. this whole book is a godsend

t. m. charles-edwards, 'the authenticity of the gododdin: an historian's view', in astudiaethau ar yr hengerdd, eds. bromwich and jones (1978), pp. 44-91 - this kind of lays out the standard view which everyone has been deconstructing ever since. we don’t know anything about what’s going on with y gododdin, but at one point we thought we did know something and this was what it looked like

d. n. dumville, 'early welsh poetry: problems of historicity', in early welsh poetry: studies in the book of aneirin, ed. b. f. roberts (1988) - and HERE is the deconstruction! a pretty good overview of the issues with “knowing anything” when it comes to y gododdin

p. sims-williams, 'dating the poems of aneirin and taliesin', zeitschrift für celtische philologie 36 (2016), 163-224 - i don’t have any notes on this and haven’t read it recently, but i remember it being good (it’s sims-williams so of course it is). almost certainly contains linguistics, but is probably also written readably

o. j. padel, 'aneirin and taliesin: sceptical speculations', in beyond the gododdin: dark age scotland in medieval wales, ed. a. woolf (2013), pp. 153-75 - if you can stand linguistics talk, padel does his best to make it understandable here and gives a good overview of the linguistic arguments for and against suggested dates for y gododdin. this whole book is actually very useful

g. r. isaac, 'canu aneirin awdl LI', journal of celtic linguistics 2 (1993), 65-91, AND 'readings in the history and transmission of the gododdin', cambrian medieval celtic studies 37 (1999), 55-78 - DEEP IN THE TEXTUAL CRITICISM. honestly, my poor attention span means i find it hard to pay attention all the way through these two, but if you want a really in-depth look at the possible relationships between the A and B-texts of y gododdin, this is the way to go

historical discussion and background:

charles-edwards in wales and the britons chapter 11 again

j. rowland, 'warfare and horses in the gododdin and the problem of catraeth', cambrian medieval celtic studies 30 (1995), 13-40 - this is a pretty cool look at the role of cavalry in y gododdin and while i don’t agree with all of it, i think it’s really useful reading if you’re going for a historical take on the poem

p. m. dunshea, 'the meaning of catraeth: a revised early context for y gododdin', in beyond the gododdin again, pp. 81-114 - makes some ESSENTIAL points re the question of: is catraeth catterick? moreover, IS CATRAETH A PLACE?

c. cessford, 'northern england and the gododdin poem', northern history 33 (1997), 218-22 - a historical perspective on the poem with some very useful points, comparing the situation as sketched out in y gododdin with what we know of the area at the time

m. wood, 'bernician transitions: place-names and archaeology', in early medieval northumbria: kingdoms and communities, AD 450-1100, eds. petts and turner (2011), pp. 35-70 - a welcome look at the archaeological and place-name evidence for what was going on in bernicia as it changed from a brittonic to a germanic-dominated area. really useful to have in mind both when reading the poem and when reading more literary history

r. collins, 'military communities and transformation of the frontier from the fourth to the sixth centuries', in the same book, pp. 15-34 - pretty fascinating look at the earlier background running up to the time period depicted in y gododdin, and the possibility of continuity between the roman occupation of hadrian’s wall and the post-roman era there. useful social/archaeological perspective!

f. h. clark, 'thinking about western northumbria', in the same book, pp. 113-28 - an early medieval english perspective on the area at the time, useful for comparison and completeness’ sake

literary discussion:

ifor williams, lectures on early welsh poetry (1944) and the beginnings of welsh poetry, ed. bromwich (1972, 2nd ed. 1980) - THE CLASSICS. an old-fashioned, not to say outdated, viewpoint, but that’s because this is the guy who INVENTED the viewpoint back when it was new! even now there’s a lot of good stuff packed into these and ifor williams’ prose style is a real pleasure to read. not to be missed

a. o. h. jarman, 'the heroic ideal in early welsh poetry', in beiträge zur indogermanistik und keltologie, ed. meid (1967), pp. 193-211 - likewise somewhat old-fashioned now, but lays out the classic viewpoint well and makes some good literary points. it may also be worth reading the introduction to his edition/translation, aneirin: the gododdin (1988). (i don’t recommend using it as an edition because he conflates the A and B texts and renders the text into modern welsh - this means it reads very smoothly but is quite a bit further away from what’s on the manuscript page.)

h. fulton, 'cultural heroism in the old north of britain: the evidence of aneirin's gododdin', in the epic in history ed. davidson, mukherjee and zlatar (1994), pp. 18-39 - a pretty interesting read, about the mindset expressed in the poetry, its purpose and its construction

this isn’t lit crit but i’m putting in my favourite g. r. isaac quote from his article ‘gweith gwen ystrat and the northern heroic age of the sixth century’, p. 69: ‘Koch writes that the Book of Aneirin’s ‘immediate milieu is… not the Celtic Heroic Age, but the High Middle Ages’, as if the ‘Celtic Heroic Age’ were a period of comparable historical status to the High Middle Ages. This is not the case, however. A ‘heroic age’ cannot be the ‘immediate milieu’ of any literary production, a ‘heroic age’ cannot produce literature, because a ‘heroic age’ is itself produced through literature (taken in the broadest sense). It is a literary product. The Homeric epics are not the product of a Bronze Age Achaean heroic age, but vice versa. The Irish Ulster Cycle is not the product of an Iron Age, pre-Christian heroic age, but vice versa. And the medieval Welsh poems of ‘Aneirin’ and ‘Taliesin’ (and Triads, sections of the Historia Brittonum, and much else) are not products of a sixth-century North British heroic age, but vice versa.’

honestly there just is not nearly enough lit crit for y gododdin, in english at least, especially to explain cool shit that the welsh text is doing that isn’t visible in the translation, and/or things that could be subversive or ambiguous about it - so, i don’t know what your level of engagement with the medieval welsh text is, but if you’re curious, if you want to know more about what’s going on in a specific stanza (or which stanzas are extended puns), or just which things i’ve been dying to yell about all year, PLEASE message me and I! WILL! YELL!

articles which are almost certainly good and useful but it’s been too long since i’ve read them to say:

t. o. clancy, 'the kingdoms of the north: poetry, places, politics', in beyond the gododdin again, pp. 153-75

m. haycock, 'early welsh poets look north', likewise in beyond the gododdin, pp. 115-52

FINAL NOTE:

one of the problems with translations is that they give an impression of way more certainty about the meaning of the text... than is actually there. you’re pretty safe with clancy or kenneth jackson, but tread carefully. again, i don’t know your level of engagement with medieval welsh, but if you want to know if there are any major textual issues with a stanza, hmu and i will gladly consult my copious textual notes! but in general, BEWARE of basing anything too heavily on the following groups of stanzas:

A40, A41, B5, B6 (Am drynni drylaw drylenn; Clancy ‘For the feast, most sad, disastrous’)

A42, B25, B35 (Eur ar vur caer; Clancy ‘Gold on fortress wall’)

A48, B3, B24 (Llech leutu tud leudvre; Clancy ‘Standing stone in cleared ground’)

A62, B14, B15, B16, B36 (Angor dewr daen; Clancy ‘Anchor, Deifr-router’)

the Gorchanau if you’re interacting with those, especially the Gwarchan Maeldderw - if anyone tells you they know exactly what is going on in these, do not believe them. isaac has a full translation of the gwarchan maeldderw in cambrian medieval studies 44, and it’s useful, but i’m not by ANY means completely convinced by it, so tread carefully.

the more stanzas there are in a group of variants (or at least a group that shares lines), the more likely it is that those stanzas are going to be SUPER DUPER TEXTUALLY FUCKED UP, is a pretty good rule of thumb.

#y gododdin #cicely speaks #academic book recs #asnc things #I AM SO DEEP IN THE QUESTIONABLE ETYMOLOGIES AND SADNESS ABOUT DEAD YOUNG MEN #i have PAINFULLY detailed textual notes on this whole fuckin thing #behold my continuing love affair with ifor williams' prose in welsh and english #ANYWAY #hmu for GODODDIN YELLING #it may be yelling of sadness about dead dudes! it may be yelling of frustration about FUCKING SCRIBES!#who can say!#violetcancerian

21 notes · View notes

mizaboreshn · 3 years

Text

Hijos del Maíz

Somos hijos del maíz. We are children of the corn (the Mayan kind, not the movie kind)

En las familias “hay de todo” y la mía no es la excepción. Tenemos de todos los colores, temperamentos, inclinaciones políticas, religiones, en fin, las familias son como una nación en pequeñito. Esa diversidad nos enriquece y nos enseña tolerancia y respeto, porque “fijo” que no siempre vamos a poder ponernos de acuerdo.

In all families we have a little of everything and mine is no exception. We have all colors, personalities, political inclinations, religions… families are like a whole country on a smaller scale. This diversity enriches us and teaches us tolerance and respect, because one thing is for sure, we will not always agree.

Del lado de los Torres tratamos de tener reuniones familiares anuales. No siempre podemos, y recientemente, el Covid no lo ha permitido. Desde que los abuelos fallecieron, nos hemos reunidos en varios lugares en el país. Mis abuelos tuvieron siete hijos: Tía Ondina, mi mamá, Tío Pondo, Tía Marta y Tía Gladiz (ambas que ya fallecieron), Tío Toño y Tía Clemen. Tía Onda y mi mamá son las únicas que siguen viviendo en La Ceiba y de la siguiente generación (los primos), sólo los hijos de Tía Gladiz (Pati y Victor) y yo. Yo soy la nieta mayor del lado de los Torres. Curiosamente, mi primo Carlos López (el mayor de los varones) y yo nacimos el mismo día con 3 años de diferencia. Esa es la misma fecha en que nació Mamaíta, nuestra bisabuela.

From my maternal side (the Torres) we try to have a family reunion annually. We are not always successful, and recently because of Covid we have been able to get together. Ever since our grandparents passed we have had our reunions in various parts of the country. My grandparents had seven children: Tía Ondina, mi mamá, Tío Pondo, Tía Marta y Tía Gladys (ambas que ya fallecieron), Tío Toño y Tía Clemen. Tía Onda and my mother are the only ones still living in La Ceiba, and of the following generation (los primos), only Tía Gladiz’s children (Pati and Victor) and I. I am the eldest grandchild from my maternal side. Curiously, my cousin Carlos López (the eldest of the boys) and I were born on the same day 3 years apart. That is the same date Mamaíta, our great grandmother, was born as well.

¿Y que tiene que ver esto con que somos hijos del maíz? Ya les explico. Nuestros abuelos se conocieron acá en La Ceiba. Mi abuelo Wenceslao era de La Villa de San Antonio, Comayagua y se vino a la costa como muchísimos compatriotas, en busca de trabajo. En el caso de él porque se había peleado con su padre. Estaba bastante joven pero lo testarudo y el orgullo no tienen edad. A él le “echamos la culpa” de estos dos rasgos de personalidad que los Torres compartimos, pero para ser justa debo aclarar que no solo es culpa del abuelo. La abuela era tremenda también y como dicen los Paz (mi lado paterno) ¡el mal viene desde el fondo de la olla!

So what does all this have to do with being “hijos del maíz”? I will explain. Our grandparents met here, in La Ceiba. My grandfather, Wenceslao was born in and raised in La Villa de San Antonio, Comayagua and came to the North Coast as many other Hondurans at the time, in search of employment. In his case, he came because he had had a huge fight with his father. He was quite young, but stubbornness and pride are apparently not limited by age. We usually blame him for these 2 personality traits the Torres’ share, but in all fairness I must say it’s not just our grandfather’s fault. Our grandmother was quite a character as well and like my paternal side of my family (los Paz) say: it “bad” comes from the bottom of the pot!

La abuela Cándida Rosa Centeno Arteaga, era de El Pedernal, Cedros, Francisco Morazán y ella me contó que vino a La Ceiba porque su meta final era emigrar a Estados Unidos y por acá se iba la gente en barco. Mis tías me dicen que no están seguras que el asunto fue así – que ella fantaseaba y cambiaba las historias al final de sus días. Lo que si sabemos es que ella era “sastra” y trabajaba en una fábrica de pantalones. En ese tiempo conoció a mi abuelo, quien la cautivó.

Our maternal grandmother Cándida Rosa Centeno Arteaga was born in El Pedernal, Cedros, Francisco Morazán and she told me she came to La Ceiba because her final destination was to go to the US and through our port, by boat, is how that was achieved. My aunts tell me that they aren’t sure that’s entirely true – that at the end of her days she made up her own reality: past and present. What we do know is that she was a seamstress and worked in a garment factory making pants. It was during this time she met my grandfather and was swept off her feet.

Intelectualmente, ambos eran brillantes, aunque la abuela hasta sus últimos días afirmaba que la inteligencia venía de los Centeno Arteaga. Se ha vuelto un chiste en nuestra familia. Ella sin embargo tenía cómo justificarlo y para esto les tengo que contar lo que nos contó el primo Adolfo cuando nos vimos la última vez.

Intellectually they were both brilliant, although Grandma, until her last breathe would say that our smarts came from the Centeno Arteaga’s (her side of the family of course). It has become a joke in our family. She however had proof, and for this I must tell you the story I heard from cousin Adolfo last time we saw each other.

Un poco de historia para poner las cosas en contexto. Mis tías cuentan que mi abuelo fue un gran padre, pero no el mejor esposo. Tuvo varias mujeres y varios hijos “por fuera”. Obviamente a la abuela Cándida no le fue fácil y un día (porque hay cosas que nunca se olvidan) refiriéndose a una de las “otras familias” de mi abuelo, le dijo a Tito (Adolfo): ves, los hijos de la fulana, son TONTOS. Ustedes sí son inteligentes, porque eso lo heredaron de mí. La inteligencia viene de los Centeno Arteaga. Mirá mis hijos, todos fueron a la universidad. Los hijos de la fulana, ninguno. Si no es por mí, ustedes quien sabe.” Y punto final. Que le quedó decir a Tito el primo más que “si Mayita, tiene usted razón.”

A little background to put things into context. My aunts tell me that my grandfather was a great father, but not the best husband. He was not the most faithful of men and had other women and children outside of wedlock. Obviously, it was not easy for Grandma Cándida and one day (because there are things that can’t be forgotten) referring to one of my grandfather’s “other families” he told Tito (Adolfo): “See, the children of so and so, they are DUMB. You all are smart because you inherited that from me. Intelligence comes from the Centeno Arteaga side. Look at my children, they all went to university. How many of her kids? None. If it wasn’t for me, who knows how you would have turned out.” And that was it, no discussion allowed. All that Tito said was “Yes Mayita, you’re right.”

Y si hablamos de política les cuento que el abuelo era liberal y la abuela nacionalista. ¡Ya se imaginan siendo ambos opinados, inteligentes y esposos como debe haber sido eso!

And as far as politics were concerned, Grandfather was Liberal and Grandmother was Nationalist. So you can just imagine how that was like, both being strong opinioned, intelligent, and married!

Físicamente también eran muy diferentes, literalmente como el día y la noche o como yo prefiero describirlos: la abuela era el maíz y el abuelo el cacao.

Physically they were also very different, literally night and day, or as I prefer to call them: grandmother was corn and grandfather was chocolate.

De acuerdo a las viejas leyendas mayas, la primera mujer y el primer hombre se formaron de la mazorca del maíz. El maíz es originario de Mesoamérica. Recuerdan la expresión “hijuelmais”, pues viene de esa leyenda Maya.

According to mayan legend, the first woman and the first man were created from an ear of corn. Corn is native to the Mesoamerican region. We use an expression that means something to the effect of “rascal” word written phonetically as “hijuelmais” meaning son of corn, comes from that mayan legend.

La milpa o huerta, está compuesta principalmente por 3 cultivos: el maíz, el frijol y ayote, y complementado por el chile, el tomate y hierbas. La palabra milpa viene del náhuatl y significa “lo que se siembra encima de la parcela”. Es un agro-ecosistema precolombino que no solo satisface las necesidades alimentarias sino también es un sistema cultural con muchos siglos de existencia (desde 2500 a.C.).

The Milpa (crop growing system used throughout Mesoamerica) is made up of 3 basic crops: corn, beans and squash and complemented by peppers, tomato and herbs. The word milpa comes from the nahuatl and means “what is farmed on top of the field”. It is a pre-Columbian agricultural system that not only satisfies food needs but is also a cultural tradition with many years of existence (since 2500 BC).

Otro cultivo muy importante y nativo de América es el Cacao. La mitología prehispánica vincula el cacao a dos dioses: Ek-Chuah de los Mayas y Quetzalcóatl de los Aztecas. Cuenta la leyenda que Quetzalcóatl bajó a la tierra con regalos: maíz, frijol y yuca. Robó a sus hermanos los dioses una planta de cacao que sin autorización, se la regaló a los Aztecas. Cuando la planta dio frutos, les enseñó a cosecharlos, tostarlos, a molerlos y a batirlos con agua en las jícaras, obteniendo así el Chocolate. Como el chocolate era una bebida sagrada, sólo permitida para los dioses, cuando estos se dieron cuenta, se enfurecieron y decidieron vengarse de Quetzalcóatl.

Another important crop, also native to America is Chocolate or Cacao. Pre Hispanic mythology links chocolate to 2 deities: Mayan Ek-Chuah and Aztec Quetzalcoatl. According to the Aztec legend, Quetzalcoatl descended to earth with 3 gifts: corn, beans and yuca (cassava). He stole from his brothers (the gods) a cacao tree and gave it to the Aztecs. When the plant bore fruit he taught them how to harvest, roast and grind the seeds, and to beat mixed with water into the jícaras (container made from the fruit of the calabash tree) thereby making chocolate. Since chocolate was a sacred drink, only for the gods, when they found out what Quetzalcoatl had done they became infuriated and swore revenge.

Les contaba al principio que los Torres tratamos de reunirnos todos los años. Una de esas reuniones fue en Los Olingos, en la Laguna de los Micos. Es uno de mis lugares favoritos, no sólo por su belleza escénica, sino también porque los dueños lo hacen sentir a uno como parte de su familia, historia y tradiciones. Entre estas tradiciones está una bebida que es ese casamiento perfecto entre el maíz y el cacao, igual que mi familia. Esta bebida se toma de desayuno y/o de cena y lo podría describir como un atolito achocolatado. Se le puede agregar leche o tomar sólo con agua.

Before I went into this historical sidebar, I was telling you about the Torres family reunions. One of these took place in Los Olingos, in the Laguna de los Micos (near Tela, Atlántida). It is one of my favorite places, not just for it’s scenic beauty, but because the owners make you feel like part of their family, their stories and their traditions. Amongst these traditions is a drink that is a perfect marriage between corn and chocolate, much like my family. This beverage is drunk for breakfast and/or dinner and could be described as a hot chocolate which is thickened by the ground corn. It can be mixed both wirh milk or water

Disfrutamos mucho de esos momentos, poniéndonos al día, viendo como han crecido los de la siguiente generación; rodeados por la belleza y apreciando la diversidad de nuestro país y de nuestra familia.

We enjoy these times together, catching up, seeing how the next generation has grown; surrounded by the beauty and appreciating the diversity of our country and our family.

1 note · View note

valen-castro · 3 years

Text

Reflejos de mi mente

Resumen

El trabajo de reflejos de mi mente se centran en expresar que las sombras transmite algo más, que no son solo una proyección que estas tienen algo oculto que a veces pueden dar miedo pero algunas son muy expresivas ,delicada , cuentan una historia pueden transmitir la belleza de la sombra , con el tema quería experimentar cómo se comportan las luces y como esta genera una sombra, una textura, algunas de las imágenes son objetos que dan una sombra que pueden ser entendibles pero con diferentes puntos de vista , que pueden ser sombrías pero atractivas de cierta forma , trasmitiendo momentos detenidos con sentimientos de un recuerdo que fue bueno o malo, triste o feliz que al ser una sombra no siempre es totalmente definida si no que puede ser difusa transmitiendo algo melancólico como un recuerdo que se quiere olvidar o simplemente te transmite algo triste , algunas que no tienen sentido simplemente es una sombra y ya, pero otras que con solo verlas ya sabes que transmite.

las sombras tienen su propio lenguaje y transmiten sensaciones por medio de las cuales viaja nuestra imaginación que algunos casos nos pueden llegar a generar miedo, También como una experimentación de entender que la sombra no siempre es lo que uno ve que tiene un trasfondo propio que uno crea e imagina darle un significado mas halla de ser una simple proyección dando textura para evocar un realismo y sensación de tacto.La combinando de objetos y personas son un plus para darle una historia a la fotografía captada.” tiene su propia belleza , donde en la otra parte del mundo en Japón todo cobra sentido atreves de la sombra asi como cuando la luz hace belleza “ asi lo explica Junichiro Tanizak ,

“hay una sombra a mis pies

Miro hacia abajo y ella es aún más grande

Corro, pero la sombra me persigue”- shadow bts

Abstract

The work of reflexes of my mind they center on expressing that the shades are transmitted by something more, that they are not alone a projection that these have slightly secret that sometimes can scare but someone are very expressive, delicate, they tell that a history they can transmit the beauty of the shade, with the topic he wanted to experience how the lights behave and as this one generates a shade, a texture, some of the images are objects that give a shade that they can be understandable but with different.

the shadows have their own language and transmit sensations through which our imagination travels that some cases can generate fear, Also as an experiment to understand that shadow is not always what one sees that it has a background of its own that one creates and imagines to give it a meaning but finds of being a simple projection giving texture to evoke a realism and feeling of touch.The combination of objects and people are a plus to give a story to the photograph captured.

the shade has its own beauty, where in another part of the world in Japan everything receives sense you dare of the shade as well as when the light makes beauty like that he explains it Junichiro Tanizak

“There is a shadow at my feet

I look down and she is even bigger

I run, but the shade chases me” - shadow bts

1 note · View note

twelvedreamsfortheredqueen · 5 years

Text

Observations on the Hierarchy Of the Guard of Priwen

The Guard of Priwen largely remains a mystery to us as the player throughout Vampyr. No matter how openly we see them patrol the streets as some form of underground night watch, we only see glimpses of their true, and supposedly resurrected power, let alone witness the history of what they were before the schism from their “cowardly” brothers, the Brotherhood of St. Paul’s Stole. As Lady Ashbury parts with us, the Guard of Priwen is a secret society, one of many in the dreary and eerie vampire underworld.

I have other plans to delve deeper into the militaristic madness that is the Guard of Priwen’s inner workings and possible historical backgrounds, but I first wanted to share this small piece regarding the one detail that is most obvious in the game: the several Mobs we encounter with their logos splattered all across it. Therefore, this will be a shorter analysis solely dedicated to the possible hierarchy within Priwen, combining datamined research, the lore, and some fun historical notes behind each and every rank!

As per usual, this analysis will have spoilers, this time all the way through! All parts of this post will discuss Vampyr’s lore in detail, so please skip if you do not wish to be spoiled!

Tagging @comfycheesecakes, @orionali, @cursedbethechoice as I imagine some of this may be to each of your interests.

To preface a starting point point: Usher elaborates on the history of Priwen’s conception when Jonathan speaks to him in the West End inside his crypt:

Usher also writes of them in the Collectible “Laughing at the Guard”, explaining their origins and beliefs from a historical point. The Collectible helps to detail the inner turmoils that founded the Brotherhood as well as the detailed purpose behind its creation:

Full screenshot

This gives us a starting point to Priwen’s possible background and development. 1801 places the birth of the Guard of Priwen in the Georgian Era, beginning from 1714 to circa 1830 - 1837.

You will also see a militant trend following Priwen which is also an obvious fact in game but characters like Archer Woodbead in The Docks or Dorothy Crane in Whitechapel, both in Districts with the highest concentration of Priwen, this is a very visible trend for those around them:

Dorothy’s exchange occurs if you Spare her as Jonathan, revealing a harrowing fact about Priwen’s encroaching behaviour in their fanatical fear of keeping any sign of vampire activity eradicated. Beforehand, Priwen guards burst in to the Dispensary regardless of your Pillar Choice as Jonathan, with the patients downstairs being shot to death should you check again with Senses. The bodies no longer have visible heartbeats.

When Jonathan begins to gain access to the rich streets of the West End, it, too, struggles to avoid Priwen’s influence with not only their guard presence, but also their criminal presence!

Inspector Charles Jerome Albright will speak to Jonathan about the recent happenings and murders in London, claiming that there are:

Jonathan has the option to then report a possible suspect, one of these being Geoffrey McCullum, the current leader of Priwen:

If you choose McCullum, Jonathan calls Priwen a group of “vigilantes”; a vigilante is someone, or a group, who attempts to enforce laws (or their ideas of what is law) without the authority to do so.

With this very worrying trend now established, let us fully move onto dissecting Priwen’s inner workings!

GUARD OF PRIWEN

What’s interesting to note is that a lot of the current enemies in GoP have different names depending on where you look—from either the canonical versions in the game themselves, to the game files, or even the concept art. I will be looking at all three sources for any comparisons!

PRIWEN

To begin dissection—I will first begin with the titular names of each organisation for each of their respective sections, beginning with the Guard of Priwen. “Priwen” is a reference to Geoffrey of Monmouth’s (Latin: Galfridus Monemutensis, Galfridus Arturus, Welsh: Gruffudd ap Arthur, Sieffre o Fynwy) Arthurian legend titled “The History of the Kings of Britain”, or “De gestis Britonum” (On the Deeds of the Britons) or Historia regum Britanniae”, written circa. 1136.“Priwen” is the name of King Arthur’s shield, hence, the Guard of Priwen:

“Without a moment’s delay each man present, inspired by the benediction given by this holy man, rushed to put on his armour and to obey Dubricius’ orders. Arthur himself put on a leather jerkin worthy of so great a king. On his head he put a golden helmet, with a crest carved in the shape of a dragon; and across his shoulders a circular shield called Priwen, on which there was painted a likeness of the Blessed Mary, Mother of God, which forced him to be thinking perpetually of her.” — Legends of Arthur, Richard Barber, 2003.

Arthurian myth utilized in several aspects of Vampyr, with this being one of the more prominent examples. The symbol of Priwen is also referencing this myth, as it resembles a Latin cross with a circle to represent a shield:

LEADER

This is relatively standard, but we do know that the head of the Guard of Priwen is always referred to as “leader”, as the notes done by Geoffrey McCullum and Carl Eldritch thus far are denoted by “leader”; the only exception is reserved for Kendall Stone who is also denoted as “Founder”. “Leader” is rather self-explanatory, as it simply means “someone who leads a group”. Interestingly, it also seems to be used for those who are not the head of Priwen either, as we see in the scouting note during Thelma’s side-quest: a female “team leader” who went by Amanda Tilton. This seems to indicate there is no specific or official title to discern the head of Priwen, perchance making “leader” more of slang or casual terminology that merely stuck through the generations. The below are either written manuscripts by the leaders themselves, or copies from another.

Full screenshot

Kendall Stone’s denotation and signature:

Full screenshot

Carl Eldritch’s denotation and signature:

Full screenshot

Geoffrey McCullum’s denotation and signature:

Full screenshot

CHAPLAIN/SHEPHERD/PREACHER

(For the purpose of relevancy, I will mostly be focusing on the Chaplain terminology as that is the canonical one we see in-game, but will still be examining the Chaplain’s alternative terms and their origins.)

Chaplains are curious. You do not see them until much later in the game (other than certain exceptions regarding side-quests), there are two versions of them according to the game files, that being the Shepherd_Preacher and the Shepherd_Fanatic, but only one model, the Fanatic, remains in the game. Shepherd_Preacher is the first version of the Chaplain which we see in the E3 2017 Trailer. Their enemy busts are below; the model shown in the game files is only of the Fanatic:

Concept art also reveals them being originally labelled as “Preacher”, with a single exception being that sometimes, the loading screen within the game will use the title:

Florent Auguy

The word “chaplain” is borrowed from Old French “chapelain”, which in-turn stems from the Medieval-to-late Latin “cappellānus” that also hails from a Medieval Latin to Late Latin word read as “cappella”. Notably, “cappella” is defined as a chapel or a choir. The story of chaplains themselves hail from a 4th-century practice:

In the 4th century, chaplains (Latin cappellani) were so called because they kept St. Martin’s famous half cape (cappella, diminutive of cappa). This sacred relic gave its name to the tent and later to the simple oratory or chapel where it was preserved. To it were added other relics that were guarded by chaplains appointed by the king during the Merovingian and Carolingian periods, and particularly during the reign of Charlemagne, who appointed clerical ministers (capellani) who lived within the royal palace. In addition to their primary duty of guarding the sacred relics, they also said mass for the king on feast days, worked in conjunction with the royal notaries, and wrote any documents the king required of them. In their duties chaplains thus gradually became more identified with direct service to the monarch as advisers in both ecclesiastical and secular matters.

In modern usage, a chaplain holds a strange position within the religious circle they reside in, most notably because the definition of a “chaplain” is a cleric who is assigned to a secular institution such as a hospital, prison, military forces, universities, and so on.

n. A member of a religious body (often, but not always, of the clergy) officially assigned to give pastoral care at an institution, group, private chapel, etc. A person without religious affiliation who carries out similar duties in a secular context.

…

Clergy and ministers appointed to a variety of institutions and corporate bodies—such as cemeteries, prisons, hospitals, schools, colleges, universities, embassies, legations, and armed forces—usually are called chaplains.

Often they are considered a religious leader or some form of a figurehead, with some chaplains previously being leaders of a chapel before their assignment to a different institution. Given Priwen’s circumstance of being an underground militia, the usage of the word makes perfect sense as the Chaplains of Priwen seem to hold the same responsibilities of real-life, in this case, military chaplains (as they are called) who serve in the armed forces (the concept of allowing religious figures into battle, to this day, still holds much controversy), or we can at least assume they do some of the following which are:

A chaplain performs basically the same functions in most armed forces. A chaplain in the U.S. military must furnish or arrange for religious services and ministrations, advise his commander and fellow staff officers on matters pertaining to religion and morality, administer a comprehensive program of religious education, serve as counselor and friend to the personnel of the command, and conduct instruction classes in the moral guidance program of his service.

Beyond that, a “shepherd” has a variety of religious messages but to keep it short: “shepherd” stems from the Middle English word “schepherde” to the Old English “sċēaphierde” which is a mixture of the two words “sċēap” (”sheep”) and “hierde” (”herdsman”). A female version of the word is a “shepherdess”. The word itself has multiple sorts of definitions, with a rather funny one to think about at times:

n. A person who tends sheep, especially a grazing flock. (figuratively) Someone who watches over, looks after, or guides somebody. (figuratively) The pastor of a church; one who guides others in religion. (poetic) A swain (”young man”); a rustic male lover.

A “preacher” is as it sounds: someone who spreads their worldview or philosophy. In this case, it would be perhaps a gospel or a sermon. From the Old French “preecheor” (”prêcheur”), to Latin “praedicator” (”public praiser”, “proclaimer”). A female preacher is known as a “preacheress”.

EXECUTIONER/TRAPPER

Executioners, or Trappers as the concept art referred them as (see above), are the crossbow snipers wearing red, hooded garbs, able to throw gas grenades and flaming bolts, bereft of any melee resistance whatsoever. According to the game files, there are three types of Executioners. Here are the files:

Alongside their respective busts labelled Chemical, Fire, and Wood, their models are instead labelled CrossBow, FireCrossbow, and Sniper:

The word “executioner” is a combination of the words “execution” , which is borrowed from Old French “exécution” (c. 1360) of the Latin “executio”, an agent noun (a word deriving from another word that denotes an action of some sort), of “exequi” (”to follow out”) which stems from “ex” (out) and “sequor” (”follow”) and of course, “-er”, from Middle English “-er” and “-ere”, as well as Old English “-ere”, and Proto-Germanic “-ārijaz” used as a suffix. “Executioner” is also a fairly self-explanatory definition; it literally means “one who executes”, but to ensure that we are being thorough:

n An official person who carries out the capital punishment of a criminal. (archaic) Executor (one who conducts a task). A hit man, especially being in some organization.

An “executioner” was historically seen as a “hangman” or “headsman”—a reference to the practice of execution via. means of public decapitation. This, alongside the file name of “Sniper”; the fact that the Executioner is only ranged, defined as “hit man, especially being in some organization” and that beheading would often result in instantaneous death, the choice of title is very distinct. Like beheadings, a sniper aims to kill with a single action—an underleveled Jonathan will easily be one-shot by an Executioner from afar, making their name strikingly fitting. The fact that they are a part of Priwen, an “organization” of sorts that specializes in executions of the undead, is simply a fond, bloody coincidence.

In comparison, a “trapper” is, well, one who “traps” something, often animals for their hides or other precious materials. This may be an insinuation that literal traps of some kind were going to be added to the final product but were inevitably cut out. It does, however, fit Priwen’s perception of vampires—that they are feral animals to entrap and be rid of.

INVESTIGATOR

This will be short, as it is a term used in the game files and concept art for three ranks od Priwen, which happen to be the most squishy of mobs: Priwen Rookies (Rookie), Priwen Cadets (Veteran), and Priwen Gunners (Range).

“Investigator” is also self-explanatory: “one who investigates”, which is to say:

v. (transitive) To inquire into or study in order to ascertain facts or information. to investigate the causes of natural phenomena (transitive) To examine, look into, or scrutinize in order to discover something hidden or secret. to investigate an unsolved murder (intransitive) To conduct an inquiry or examination.

Said to have derived from the mid-1500s, from Latin “investigator” which hails from “investigare”. Interestingly, we know that female versions of each of these models exist in the game files apart from NPCs, confirmation of a female “leader” as shown above, as well as hearing female voices in the Prologue of Vampyr when Jonathan must escape the mass grave at dawn. Women were shown in the Alpha iterations of the game. Elwood confirms the presence of women in Priwen if you speak to him soon after Edgar’s kidnapping:

The feminine usage of this word is known as “investigatrix”, from Latin “investīgātrix”.

ROOKIE

Rookies are the most numerous types of enemies within the game as well as the first one you encounter within the Prologue. They only use melee weapons and hold resistance to Ranged Attacks. The sheer amount of them you find are most likely a reference to the Guard’s revitalized state in the wake of the Skal Epidemic. Ashbury mentions that Priwen was “almost gone” before Priwen began its new wave of mass recruitments:

Jonathan will frequently hear references to this mass recruitment when wandering around idle Guards:

“Rookie” is also a rather simple word to dissect: an altering of the word “recruit” and “-ie”. There is also a possibly Dutch origin from the word “broekie”, short for “broekvent”, lit. meaning “a boy still in short trousers”, which explains why “rookie” is often used as a sort teasing term. To be technical:

n. plural “rookies”

An inexperienced recruit, especially in the police or armed forces. A novice.

As the first definition shows, it does have some bearing to Priwen’s overall trend of having a nomenclature relating to militaristic forces.

The Rookie’s respective enemy UI portrait and model:

CADETS/VETERANS

Cadets, or Veterans as the game files name them, are essentially Rookies with guns or flaming torches, only being somewhat tougher than fresh-blooded Rookies. This can be inferred as a progression in rank—a Rookie that’s survived their first couple of nights on patrol. They certainly look more well-garbed, and the term “veteran” also fits with this idea of experience alongside surviving the dreary, vampiric-ridden streets.

The Cadet’s enemy UI and model:

An interesting feature to note at this point about each of Priwen’s enemies is that the majority of them seem to have an undercut. At the time (and even now), undercuts were done on men deployed to the war as the militaristic style of the era—Jonathan and McCullum share ones of their own. This hints to Priwen’s military connections that many NPCs remark on (as shown above) and that some of Priwen’s members do hail from military backgrounds which are demonstrated in their extreme firepower and access to various parts of the city.

“Cadet” stems from French “cadet” from a southwestern French known as Gascon Occitan “capdet”, further back into the Late Latin “capitellum” (”headling”) shortened version of “caput” (”head”), sharing English form by 1634. “Cadet”, unsurprisingly, is also a term with military usage. The female version would be spelt “cadette”. It also holds a definition for “junior”:

n. plural cadets

A student at a military school who is training to be an officer. (largely historical) A younger or youngest son, who would not inherit as a firstborn son would. (in compounds, chiefly in genealogy) Junior. (See also the heraldic term cadency.) a cadet branch of the family

“Veteran” is borrowed from Middle French “vétéran”, of Late or Vulgar Latin “veterānus” of the word “vetus” (”old” or “aged”). It is a rather official word referencing one who has served in the military or armed forces, most specific to older soldiers or those who have seen long years of service. While the age of Priwen’s Guards can certainly be up for debate—Cadets, while relatively squishy, seem to be what Rookies advance to should they survive their first nights at the mercy of patrols, facing whatever awaits them during it.

GUNNER

Gunners are another frequent, early mob of Priwen that you encounter. They are about as numerous as Rookies and equal in their frailty, only they seem to be Rookies with more additions to their design and opt to only use Ranged Attacks, much like their fellow Executioners. The portrait shows no difference as it is a reused UI bust, but their outfits differ slightly.

“Gunner” sounds straightforward but does hold a military usage. One can literally define “gunner” as “someone who uses a gun”, but the word itself is a rank used in the British Army Royal Artillery. It is abbreviated as “Gnr”, and is equivalent to the military rank of a “Private”, which makes sense. They hold similar stats to Rookies, Rookies are stated to essentially be new recruits—privates usually act as the lowest, entry-level rank in the military after training has completed, which means that Gunners, too, are on par with Rookies in terms of Priwen’s hierarchy.

BRAWLER/ENFORCER

Brawlers are quite the mixed bag of things. There are three different variations of them in the game files, are seen relatively early in the game, and serve as the brutish powerhouses Jonathan has to face when running into more of Priwen’s hordes. We seem them with heavy guns, a shield on their left arm, gas, and flames. A wide assortment of anti-vampire materials is cast onto a single kind of member, which proves interesting. In the game files, they are known as Enforcers with three names: Flamer, Ram, and Shield (”Tank” seems to be used generally amongst all of them for clothing files).

“Brawlers” is defined as “one who brawls”, which is to say: “fight or quarrel”—of Middle English “braule” and “brall” (”brawl, squabble”) of earlier “braulen” and “brallen” (”to clamour, boast, quarrel”). Similar words from Middle High German (”prālen”; “to boast, flaunt”)), Low German (”brallen”; “to brag”), Dutch (”brallen”; “to boast”), and Danish (”bralle”; “chatter, jabber”) have also been considered, whose meanings make sense. Priwen’s guards hold no shortage of leech-related insults, but the Brawlers have quite the large assortment of them out of every other Guard member. A show of their imposing sizes and statures, I would wager. However, their large array of weapons, brute force, and usage of miniature bosses imply that Brawlers are quite high on the ranking list. Chaplains are the only thing larger than them, and it has been established that Chaplains are sort of seen as pious, leading figures. Consider this when taking a look at the game files term for Brawlers: Enforcers.

“Enforcers” is a combination of “enforce” and “-er”, with “enforce” coming from Old French “enforcier”, of the Late Latin “infortiāre”, from “in-” and “fortis” ((physically)“strong”)). I emphasize this word for the Brawler for one definition in particular:

One who enforces. The member of a group, especially of a gang, charged with keeping dissident members obedient.

Ram is also a reference to a battering ram (and the ability in which they charge at you) used in the British Police Forces. The second definition is specific to a Mob Enforcer. Priwen has access to multiple parts of London, with heavy access to firepower, large numbers, and seemingly free reign once night comes, kept entirely away from law enforcement. This is what discerns Priwen from a gang per say—their power and influence put them upwards to that of a Mob, or a “traditional gang” which is essentially a gang with overarching influence upon a region, to the point that they nearly act as the local law enforcement. Multiple mobs/traditional gangs existed, some of notable fame, throughout the Victorian Era well into the World Wars, many of which centred in the East End much like Priwen is: Peaky Blinders, Birmingham Boys, the “Sabini” gang, Hoxton Gang, The Yiddishers, and several others.

Brawlers essentially being Mob Enforcers must mean they hold a lot of trust within Priwen to both be given the position of watching the other men, as well as proving they can also follow through with said position.

With all of what we know of Priwen now defined, here is a chart of what I believe to be the hierarchical structure within the Guard of Priwen from what we have gathered:

Full image

As Ashbury says: like all good societies, Priwen is still very much a secretive one even with such open recruitment. There may be inner workings we are unaware of, and what we have been revealed to may only be scratching the surface of what truly hides within the esoteric, fanatic-hunting organised Mob that Priwen has built itself into. Worse more is the mystery behind their schism with the Brotherhood: a once united group, now a duality that remains incessantly at odds. The way the current Brotherhood organises themselves is much more esoteric and theological than that of militaristic Priwen, a further representation of their dichotomy being at odds.

CREDITS:

None of this data collection would have been possible without the informative help of @wolfsirius and @orionali. Of course, I will never write a post without thanking @cursedbethechoice for their initial, contributive works to the lore of this fandom and for continuing to inspire me throughout.

The tool I used to view these files was from Gildor’s Umodel Viewer.

EXTRA COMMENTS:

This essay is exactly 3,724 words long!

It’s been quite a long while since I’ve written anything despite being active on the blog. Nearly a year now! I’m hoping this small introduction allows me to ease my way back to the projects I wanted to share (which are a lot) both here in full, and show peeks of on Twitter! Thank you to those who have continued to follow this blog despite the time gap. I hope to be much more frequent with Lore posts here!

You may notice a tag at the bottom labeled “secret societies series”. That is because I intend to have a small series of analyses dedicated to the three major factions we witness in Vampyr: The Guard of Priwen, The Brotherhood of St. Paul’s Stole, and The Ascalon Club. This will be the catch-all tag for any analyses relating to those topics! …With a possible mention of the Druid Order (mentioned in the “Blood Goddess Heresy” Collectible).

Other “series” are still in the works!

Full screenshot

ALL SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY (in no particular order):

Legends of Arthur, Richard Barber, 2003 “GANGS”, Bill Sanders, February 2016 — Oxford University Press Chaplain, ENCYCLOPÆDIA BRITANNICA Oxford English Dictionary Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary Wiktionary Online Etymology Dictionary The British Army Website’s British Army Structure London Metropolitan Police’s Article of the Enforcer Wikivisually’s Article on the Enforcer (battering ram) Etymology of “Chaplain” – Traditional & Professional, Rev. Dr. Michael G. Maness, 1998, revised 2015, formerly published as “Meaning of Chaplaincy” The etymology of “rookie” in Wikitionary The etymology of “chaplain” in Wikitionary The etymology of “brawl” in Wikitionary The etymology of “enforce” in Wikitionary Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “enforce” The Mob Museum in Las Vegas—National Museum of Organized Crime & Law Enforcement Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “veteran” Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “shepherd” Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “preacher” The etymology of “shepherd” in Wikitionary. “investigate” in The Century Dictionary, The Century Co., New York, 1911 “investigate” in Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam, 1913 King Arthur: The Mystery Unravelled By Chris Barber Journey to Avalon: The Final Discovery of King Arthur By Chris Barber, David Pykitt The Welsh Academy Encyclopædia of Wales. John Davies, Nigel Jenkins, Menna Baines and Peredur Lynch (2008) pg. 668

#vampyr #vampyr game #guard of priwen #dontnod #essay #secret societies series #it's been a while #good to be back!#mine

71 notes · View notes

ghostmartyr · 5 years

Text

SnK 119 Thoughts

In the next thrilling episode of things going much worse than they needed to, all my fake internet money is going towards Historia actually incubating Eren’s missing leg under her shirt.

Through the power of Paths he rips his way out of Historia’s stomach while NPC Farmer Guy watches in complete horror and Levi bleeds out on the kitchen table because everyone is too distracted by the latest bloody mess.

The rest of the manga is just devoted to extreme Biblical discourse over who is playing which part in the story, and how many ways can they be Frankensteined together.

With bonus points going to Levi sharing Jesus’ birthday.

Christ Bowl: Resurrection.

Like Serum Bowl only somehow worse for everyone.

Okay so a lot happened.

I wanna make sure I’ve got it.

Lessee.

Yeah.

So.

A bunch of people died.

Reiner was not one of them, because death would impede the manga’s one constant of Reiner suffering.

That’s it, that’s the chapter.

Geez, okay. So in one corner we’ve got all of the folks who Zeke turned into titans. And Zeke actually made that cog of the plot spin forward. So we’ve got a city full of titans. In previous times this was undesired and bad, and it still sort of is, but the people these titans will eat are Marleyan soldiers, so it’s a lot easier to not feel so bad about the cannibalism.

Then we’ve got Porco Galliard.

Who is apparently dead now.

Falco, who is not dead, no longer has a brother. Because Colt wanted to hug his baby brother during his time of need more than he wanted to live. So Colt’s dead too.

Zeke is somehow not dead. Still.

Gabi is keeping up the Braun tradition of living to survive further trauma.

Mikasa, Armin, Jean, and Connie continue to be good children who deserve only nice things as they try to clean up the mess their one friend has managed to create around them.

And Eren’s head gets blown off.

Which it’s sort of hard to argue he doesn’t deserve, all things considered. ‘All things’ including the part where he’s probably not going to stay dead if he even reaches that point.

...

Okay.

My main desire with this post is really just to scribble red marker everywhere and draw tiny explosions with the footnote, “things went wrong,” and leave it at that. This is very much one of this series’ chapters where I’d prefer to simply wait for what’s coming than to try to produce something meaningful over what we have.

The temptation to say this is all very rushed is very present, but I think that’s just because two characters with names die and the entire upper brass turns into titans in the space of forty pages.

Galliard’s been getting the crap beaten out of him every single fight. The impressive part is that he stays alive long enough to do something with his death instead of just getting killed.

Colt... yeah, people in hysterics don’t make good choices. I’ll come back to him with kinder words later, but mainly that.

I think I’m just a little in shock that the plot actually moved. While it’s gotten better over the years, the manga is still very much designed around paving a foundation with exposition, then hitting every single relevant beat of said exposition without pausing for air.

The threat of the military turning into titans has been around for months. It just. Finally really happened.

...Look, the manga might not want to take a breather, but I sure do. This is a lot of action dropping a lot of seeds, and part of me is still stuck on the fact that the grand titanization actually happened, and Galliard actually gets nommed.

Oki doki then.

Yay for fewer swords dangling over everyone?

Probably also a no on Jaws breaking Annie out? Falco won’t have the control to do it gently any time soon, and Falco, being a precious beacon of goodness, is not going to feel comfortable just cracking Annie open.

Hell. Some months I think would really go better without a post. With monthly series, there’s usually something each month that’s worth words, and I do think this still qualifies, but this really could use the cushioning of its future chapters. So many boxes got checked off for things happening so fast that it’s hard to gauge their impact. The smoke’s still clearing, and detailing the quality of the rising dust and ashes is not high on entertainment.

Oh well, into the cloud we go.

This month brought to you by brothers!

Colt and Falco; Porco and Marcel; Eren and Zeke. Brothers! Brothers feeling brotherly feelings and relating to each other through said feelings!

Or a series of older brothers severely traumatizing their younger siblings and making everything much worse by trying to be good big brothers in ways that lead to dead bodies littering the streets.

Reiner’s entire post-Warrior Candidate life happens because Marcel wants to keep his little brother safe.

It’s Zeke’s fault, but Colt hugging Falco means that Falco’s transformation kill Colt.

Zeke and Eren. Uh.

Bring out the red marker, because I think it would take less time to outline what area of the plot their grand plan hasn’t rained destruction all over.

This isn’t Evangelion, but good grief, if ever you wanted examples of people caring for each other as badly as they possibly can while maintaining vaguely good intentions, the sibling relationships covered in this chapter have your back.

Colt, to his credit, really is trying to be a good big brother, but. On the list of things Falco did not need, burning his brother to death is pretty high up there.

I’m going to try to stop being stunned by the fact this chapter really did happen now.

Colt, Gabi, and Falco have all been raised in an environment that encouraged hating themselves. The pinnacle of achievement in their lives is to be honored sacrifices for a country who doesn’t think they deserve life.

Gabi's been the star player in that show. Her innocence shatters with her psyche, and this arc has not been gentle in detailing that. She goes from being proud of her status and blowing things up with a laugh to shooting her greatest enemy in tears.

Falco’s been the precious cinnamon roll. He’s unfailingly kind. His goal has always been small: protect Gabi. He adjust to what he sees in front of him, and if it completely changes his worldview, that’s only the background. He’s still here for Gabi.

Colt, from the moment we meet him, is protecting his little brother. He picks Falco up and drags him away from trouble.

He’s Zeke’s successor, in theory. He doesn’t want Falco to ever inherit a Titan. That’s his role in the family. Their entire family is protected from the shame of his uncle’s rebellion through Colt volunteering.

Colt’s just a boy too.

Canon’s very familiar with child soldiers. Our cast is full of them. The land inside the walls has always been presented as a cruel world, and the fact that children regularly die training to become soldiers is their standard.

Warrior Candidates train so they will die.

Colt doesn’t join up because it’s better than working in the fields. It isn’t about saving face. His family’s quality of life is dependent on him doing everything he can to be the shiniest sacrifice of his age group.

It isn’t surprising that Marley uses children for their Warriors.

They’re eager to please and haven’t learned that they have personal agency. With the way Marley raises them, the goal is keeping them from ever learning that lesson to any functional degree. They obey and obey and obey until they die or their sanity snaps.

Because maybe it’ll get better. This small ray of hope is the only way out for their people or their families. Maybe.

Colt’s young. His mentor betrays his country, and now Zeke is the only thing standing between his little brother being okay or an inhuman monster.

The logical thing for Colt is to run straight up to Zeke, the leading spear of the enemy offensive, and beg him to wait for a little while so that Falco can get out of the line of fire. That’s what he has to work with. His love for his little brother and his confidence that the man he’s trained under doesn’t really want to hurt children.

Colt doesn’t understand the world any better than Gabi does, really.

He thinks, because he has a good heart, that that’s how people are. He thinks that the man who set up an entire plan based around robbing people of their autonomy will care more about a little boy than seeing that plan bear fruit.

He thinks it’s enough to argue that he loves his little brother.

Marleyans, Eldians. Those are just lines in the sand. They don’t really mean anything next to something like family. Colt’s little brother is right here, and Zeke can protect him.

So instead of running as far away from Zeke as possible from the start, Colt runs toward him and begs him for just a little time.

That was never going to work.

Colt thought it was worth the chance.

Much like every single Warrior Candidate since the program began.

Maybe it will work. Maybe this will save everyone.

Colt dies holding his little brother. There’s no point to it. It makes Falco more panicked than what’s already about to happen to him. It puts both of them at risk instead of just one.

Because Colt’s just a dumb kid, and he thinks that the most important thing he can do in his last moments of life is let his little brother know that he’s there.

He could have lived if he let Falco be on his own, but his life wasn’t what Colt cared about. So he dies.

He dies, and Porco spends his last moments making sure that Falco still has a chance to live.

Marcel hides his brother away from the supposed honor he’s earned to keep him safe. Marcel never wanted Porco to be a Titan. He wanted his kid brother safe, even if it meant never seeing him again.

Porco finally has the truth, and then he spots these two dumb kids running into a warzone for the same reason.

Marcel tried so hard to spare Porco this hell. It didn’t work. Porco found his way there anyway. And if he’s dying anyway, he’s going to die for something that can actually do some good.

Way to follow your big brother’s example, Pock.

None of this is going to help Reiner in any section of his life. At this point you have to hope the guy lives, just so surviving all of this can be something more than a trauma conga line. I could say something about how the most actively suicidal character of the present manga is continually denied death, and I’m sure it would be profound, but really by now I just feel bad for the guy.

I’m not sure any of these people want to be here, come to think of it.

I’m even less clear on why all of them being here is according to keikaku.

In other news, Eren gets shot.

After all his friends, once again, do their damnedest to keep him alive through his complete lack of regard for them. Without their help, Eren’s dead long before Gabi steps in.

Say thanks, Eren.

Gabi shooting people even after she’s learned that the world is horrifying and complicated should probably elicit something from me, but I’ve long been in the mode of wanting the kid to be left alone with a warm blanket and a hug. Add one more reason to the list.

Plus, there’s shooting people, then there’s shooting Eren.

Knowing far more about Eren than Gabi ever will, I’m not sure I’d want him to make contact with Zeke either. Gabi has made a trillion worse judgment calls.

It’s also somewhat appropriate.

Gabi is only there because Eren destroyed her home. She’s only alive because Sasha cared about letting a little girl live when Eren didn’t. Sasha was only there because Eren manipulated all of his friends into a combat situation none of them wanted.

I’m sure Eren has his reasons, and I’m sure when he inevitably dies for real I’ll have all kinds of emotions about it, but this is a case of him reaping what he sowed.

Hell, the gun’s got a scope and everything. The scene is crying out for a ghost of Sasha superimposed over Gabi.

Sorry your head got fucking blown off, Eren, maybe you should make better life choices.

Because what I keep ending up stuck on is why this is all happening. Clearly, now that this road has been chosen, there are a few things that demand attention, but this is such a finicky, overwrought way of trying to get two bros to hold hands.

“Let’s start a war!”

“Cool!”

Would it have been so hard to just kidnap Zeke.

I’m sure it would have raised some flags.

But.

-gestures to entire chapter-

I just feel like most of this could have been easily avoided by. you know. doing literally anything else. The exact trajectory of this plan can’t possibly be necessary. It isn’t even going well. Eren’s missing his head, Zeke is approaching Reiner levels of plot armor to keep him breathing, and all that’s really been achieved is creating a bunch of new titans and killing some people they could have killed anywhere else.

The plan itself is fundamentally destructive, yet they’ve still managed to make it destructive in a way that actively interferes with the plan going anywhere.

Congrats, gents.

Some random eight-year-old with a sniper rifle destroyed all your hard work.

Much surprise. Very wow.

The explanation for all of this is going to be something incredible.

Either because it’ll be brilliant or because it will continue the downward spiral into the chaotic groupthink of the Yeager Bros and their one brain cell.

I’m okay with whichever the story wants to go with.

#Shingeki no Kyojin #SnK 119 #shingeki no spoilers #SnK spoilers #spoilers #chapter post #tl;dr

112 notes · View notes

latinxdragonage · 5 years

Text

LDA’s Latine Heritage Month celebration - OC and Artist Spotlights!

Click here for the original event post!/Hagan click aqui para el post original!

We’ve already had a chance to reblog some gorgeous art and writing from you guys! Throughout the month we’ll also be featuring Latine OCs and Latine Artists in the fandom. If you’d like to participate we have both templates prepared below!

These are suggestions, if you’d like to add or remove some information that’s completely fine! You may include images but please limit it to three :)

To submit a spotlight form, please click here, or tag us in a post. We look forward to hearing from you!

Ya hemos tenido la oportunidad de compartir hermosa arte y escritura de parte de ustedes! Durante el mes tambien vamos a presentar personajes y artistas latinos en el fandom. Si gustan participar, tenemos dos formas preparadas al fondo de este post!

Estas son sugerencias, si prefieren agregar or quitar informacion eso esta bien. Pueden incluir imagenes pero limitenlas a tres por post :)

Para entregar una forma, hagan click aqui, o haganos tag en un post. Queremos oir de ustedes!

Latine OCs Spotlight - Submission Form

Name/Nombre: Age/Edad: Gender/Genero: Sexuality/Orientacion Sexual: Pronouns/Pronombres: Personality/Personalidad:

A piece of artwork/Ejemplo de arte:

A piece of writing/Ejemplo de escritura:

What meaningful relationships do they have?/Cuales relaciones importantes tienen?

What are their likes and dislikes?/Sus gustos y disgustos?

How does your Latinx background impact their writing? Do you incorporate certain elements from your culture into their story?/Como impacta tu herencia Latina a su personaje? Incluyes ciertas influencias de tu cultura en su historia?

What is your favorite thing about them?/Cual es tu cosa favorita sobre ellos?

Latine Artist Spotlight - Submission Form

1. Share your name and a bit about yourself!/Comparte tu nombre y algo sobre ti!

2. How did you get into Dragon Age? What do you enjoy about the series?/Como conociste a Dragon Age? Que te gusta sobre la serie?

3. What sort of work do you create? Do you write, draw, sing, etc.? Share some examples!/Que tipo de arte creas? Escribes, dibujas, cantas, etc.? Compare ejemplos!

4. Where can we find you? If you have a tag for your work, or a website you’d like to share, please do!/Donde podemos buscarte? Si tienes un tag para tu trabajo o un sitio web, compartelo.

#latinxdragonage #dragon age #dao #latine heritage month #latinx heritage month #we wanted this to be accessible and that's why the forms are so flexible #and why there's one for ocs and one for artists #thanks everyone for participating and sharing so far!

30 notes · View notes

aras-fanfics-andstuff · 5 years

Text

Allow Me This

Levi Ackerman x Reader (Female)

Synopsis: Recently dethroned Princess Y/N goes to see Levi off as he leaves with the Scouts to retake Wall Maria.

Author’s Note: ((I’m thinking about doing a few oneshots using this little idea that the Reader is the False King Fritz’s daughter. In future shorts I plan to include more story background, but I just want to throw some fluff out there to get the ball rolling. Let me know what you think!))

Y/N was in a sentimental mood, reflecting on how she got to be where she was now: riding horseback with the love of her life to the eastern gate of Wall Rose. She’d be watching him leave to retake Wall Maria, and though she didn’t want to appear untrusting of Levi’s skills, she was worried.

It’d been five long years since Y/N and Levi met, when Y/N was still a Princess and Wall Maria was still humanity’s. Y/N supposed she’d always felt something for Levi, beginning with just a general interest in the strongest Survey corps member but quickly evolving into the deep, enduring love she felt for him now. For awhile they hadn’t even acknowledged their feelings for each other, because of Y/N’s status and Levi’s lack thereof. After Trost, though, the floodgates broke. The two fell desperately in love and kept their relationship a secret from anyone that wasn’t Erwin and Pixis until recently. Now that Y/N was no longer royalty, marriage was suddenly on the table. Unfortunately, things were getting intense on the front lines of the fight against the titans, making the present an inopportune time to tie the knot. The Scouts needed Levi, and his conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave the war unwon. Y/N respected that wholeheartedly. Still, there was an ache in her heart when she thought of Levi going outside the wall to almost certainly meet the both Armored and Colossal Titans at once. Y/N sat behind Levi on his black horse, arms clasped tightly around his midsection. It was the first day that they’d be open to the general public about their relationship, and as they rode past people in the streets, it was clear that they had the support of the citizens. Y/N smiled as she squeezed Levi’s torso fondly and listened to all of the encouragement being shouted to the Scouts. “Good luck!” one woman shouted, cradling a baby to her chest as she waved with a brilliant smile. “Come back in one piece this time!” “Captain Levi, you can do it!” a man called. Y/N felt Levi shift to look in the direction of the shout, and she loosened her hold on him. The man who’d shouted at them seemed to notice the Captain’s attention and turned to grin at Y/N. “Don’t you worry, Ex-Princess. He’ll come back for you. Nothin’s gonna keep him from a dame like you for long.” Y/N giggled as Levi’s eyes shot daggers at the man, who now looked terrified. The shouts of encouragement continued as they made their way to the base of the wall when the lifts were, and Y/N leaned forward to press her lips against Levi’s ear. He leaned back into her embrace. “You guys are getting one hell of a sendoff,” she observed. Levi nodded. “The thought of ending this nightmare is keeping everyone going. It also helps that Historia’s been doing so much for the impoverished. Most of these people have been living in shitty conditions for years, and how much things have improved even in the short time the council’s been gone is being noticed.” He rested his eyes back on Erwin’s horse in front of them. “None of this would be possible without you, Y/N.” She blushed. “Levi,” Y/N began, but her lover interrupted her. “It’s true, princess,” he started, using his only ‘pet name’ for her to quell her resistance. “Historia has no idea what she’s doing, even though she has honorable intentions. It’s you that does the paperwork and deals with money behind the castle walls. Historia’s a good kid, but she doesn’t understand shit about the government. Without your experience, her good ideas wouldn’t even get off the ground. Give yourself some credit.” A little smile pulled at the corners of Y/N’s mouth. “You’re the best, Levi.” She rested her hand over his on the reins, and he moved his thumb to caress her wrist. “Historia’s very grateful for your kindness to her, you know. She’s glad she can help kids that were in the same situation as you.” “Tch,” Levi huffed as the horse came to stop next to Hanji’s. He seemed flattered. “Like I said... she’s a sweet kid.” Levi slid off the side of his horse and offered Y/N help to get down as well. Once her feet were firmly on the ground, the two of them walked hand-in-hand to the lift with the horse and led it inside. Hanji followed, and offered Y/N a grin. “Good to see ya, Y/N,” she said cheerily. “You too, Hanji. Good luck out there, with the thunder spears. Come back alive, won’t you?” Y/N answered. “If not for my sake, for humanity’s.” “You can count on it,” Hanji replied as she fixed her glasses. “I’ve got to... talk to Erwin. I’ll be back.” She glanced around, seemingly unaware of where she’d actually go to accomplish her task. After a moment, she walked away aimlessly. “She’s trying to give us some space,” Levi spoke as Y/N turned back to face him. “I know,” she returned softly. The two of them were silent for a moment, unsure of how to start the conversation that might be their last. After a pregnant pause, Y/N lessened the distance between them, taking Levi’s hand in hers and pressing it to her heart. “Promise me you’ll use your intuition. You’ll do whatever you need to do without a second thought.” “I do that implicitly,” Levi assured her almost noncommittally. “Don’t insult me.” “I’m not trying to,” Y/N asserted, eyebrows arching. Her Y/H/C locks blew across her face, and she pushed them out of her way with her free hand. “I didn’t really say that for you, I guess. I’m just helping myself come to terms.” “With what?” Levi stepped closer to her, moving his hand from her chest to her arm. “With... the fact that you might have to make a judgement call that won’t bring you back to me.” Y/N’s shimmering eyes searched Levi’s, finding the first real trace of fear she’d seen in him for awhile. He squeezed her arm in what might have been an attempt at an apology before pulling her into his embrace. His pointed chin nestled into the place where her neck met her collarbone, and he buried his nose in her hair. “I love you, Y/N. I fully intend on coming back alive and with the truth about the titans. And then, when I can say I’ve done everything I’m capable of to end the war with a clear conscience...” The soldier paused, processing the weight of his next statement. “I’ll ask you to marry me.” A blush colored Y/N’s cheeks as her hands gripped Levi’s cloak. “You’re being awfully optimistic,” she observed with a grim huff. “Don’t lie on my behalf.” “Allow me this,” Levi murmured, lips against her neck. “Let me leave knowing you believe in me. Y/N, please.” Y/N leaned away from Levi’s chest to look him in the eyes. His stormy blues were submissive, pleading even. They scanned her face for any sign of her leanings, to see if she might grant his only request. “I believe in you, Levi. You have my heart,” Y/N assured her dark-haired paramour. She pressed her forehead to his, positioning her hands to cradle his face. “My love is yours, no matter what happens.” A shaky sigh fell through Levi’s lips, and without further hesitation he pressed his mouth to Y/N’s. His calloused hands pulled her down into his kiss and she knew better than to resist when every single bone in her body unreservedly lured her closer to him. It was a gentler parting kiss than Y/N expected. Levi had exposed the most guarded facet of his personality to her that day: his endearing hope of a future together was laid bare before her. He tenderly poured the emotions he was trying to convey into each of his movements; every caress and purse of his lips carried an intense affection that weighed so heavily on Y/N that her legs felt weak. They stepped back from each other reluctantly upon hearing Erwin give the command for the next lifts to go up. Levi stepped onto the platform with Hanji, who’d returned unnoticed, and Y/N shut the lift door behind them. Levi grasped her hands over the railing before she could pull away. “I’ll come home to you soon. That’s a promise.” Y/N nodded, a smile manifesting on her face out of a strength she didn’t know she had. “I’ll be waiting for you.” As the lift began to rise, their hands separated. The unlikely-yet-inevitable pair stared longingly after each other until Y/N couldn’t even see Levi’s shape anymore. She reluctantly stepped back to find her ride back to the palace, but something stopped her. Peasants who hadn’t given a damn about the Scouts for years were now shouting their undying support to the heroes now positioned on top of the walls. Smiling people with food and well-mended clothing lined clean streets and waved to the soldiers who, for once in a century, had an authentic, genuine chance at gaining some ground. This had been a dream since before Y/N was born, and it was finally here. Her eyes rested on a figure she knew to be Levi on top of the wall. He stood next to Erwin, who’d just yelled so loud that everyone in the streets paused for a moment, then yelled back to him. A grin spread on Y/N’s face, and she joined the peasants in their war-cry until the call-and-response died out when Scouts started to descend the outer side of the wall. A tiny warmth grew in the dethroned royal’s heart. It’s about time, Y/N thought to herself, clutching her jacket tightly against her form. It’s about time that we start winning. She pressed her fingers gently to her lips, where Levi had just kissed her with such a desire and promise in his touch. It was a kiss she’d cherish for the rest of her life. It’s time that we can all fall in love without worrying about tomorrow.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Check out the list of fandoms I write for here. Send me a request! Thanks for reading!

31 notes · View notes