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#happy genocide hearing day to all who celebrate
yourlocaltrylingual · 4 months
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myguidingmoon-light · 4 months
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“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.” (Luke 2:7)
No room. That’s something I’ve heard too much lately. Palestinians have been hearing that for 75 years. Since they were driven out of their homes—more than 700 000 of them—in 1948 to make room for the colony of Israel, there has been less and less room every day. Less land, literally, as even though lines and walls have been drawn over the years, Israel continues to illegally settle in Palestinian land. Less room to breathe, as the population of Gaza grew within the illegal blockade walling them into a tiny strip of land. Less room to live now, as Gaza has been under constant attack by Israeli bombs and guns and while the civilians of Gaza are pushed by this violence into even smaller and smaller “safe zones” (though there is nowhere safe in Gaza right now).
But also no room our conversations. No room in our imagination. No room in our understanding of our world of “human rights” and “developed nations.” You’d think “Palestinian” is a slur for how quickly it shuts up (or heats up) dialogue. These are our neighbours, and it feels like pulling teeth to get people to engage with their humanity—let alone ask their MP to ask our government to ask Israel’s government to please stop bombing civilians for the third month straight.
Today we recognize when a Jewish Palestinian family was forced by the state to leave their home, shelter in unfit terrain, give birth without proper medical care, survive a massacre, and become refugees. We Christians call the baby born in that family Emmanuel, which means God with us. God was born in Bethlehem, behind the border wall, in an occupation. What does that tell us about who God is?
Our Christian siblings in Palestine have asked us not to let this Christmas pass as usual. To that, I ask, what is Christmas as usual? If we don’t see our neighbours in the story of Jesus, what is the point? If we need to put the real, genuine injustices of the world out of our mind so that we can be comforted by Christmas, we are frankly doing it wrong. The point—the whole point—is that love and justice are possible for the unloved and the oppressed, even when it doesn’t feel that way. It is our responsibility to make that happen, and we can’t do that with our eyes closed.
You should feel uncomfortable about celebrating Christmas while a genocide is going on. We need to have room for that. We also need to have room for the hope that Christmas represents. We need to have room in our hearts for justice, lasting peace, and a free Palestine, because we are all needed to make it a reality.
And for God’s sake, CEASEFIRE NOW!
“He has brought down the mighty from their thrones/ and exalted those of humble estate;/ he has filled the hungry with good things,/ and the rich he has sent away empty.” (Luke 1:52-53)
.
.
.
I am indebted to Rev. Munther Isaac for his wisdom in helping so many of us walk through this time. Personally, I just finished his book “The Other Side of the Wall”—if you are a Christian, you have to read this book. I’ll buy you a copy if you want.
I also want to note that this post isn’t really supposed to be an explainer or an argument. I didn’t cite anything here, but if you’re curious about anything I referenced (e.g. why did I bring up medical care?), send me a message and I’d be happy to give you more details about what’s happening in Palestine. I’m no expert, but I know some people just genuinely don’t know the extent of the injustice and don’t know where to learn more; if you have questions I’m happy to help, but I’m not here to fight with you.
Same deal if you want to help but don’t know how. I’m happy to give you some ideas and even help you out with them (distance permitting). One important action you can always take is contacting your Member of Parliament. You don’t have to write anything fancy—just tell them honestly how you’re feeling and ask them to support an urgent ceasefire. This is literally your right as a Canadian, so you don’t have to worry about doing something wrong.
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What's fucked up is when you say "hey this holiday is fucked up" some (most) people will react with hostility. Like it's a personal affront.
And I can't stop thinking about "Caucasians have more to offer us than (whiteness)" and like?? Don't you? Then why in the same breath you say 'happy thanksgiving' and celebrate your ancestor's history you'll tell me it was Too Long ago for me to still be upset Especially when it didn't happen to me?
But you get to feel proud and celebrate?
Riiiiiight
Y'all keep insisting you have more to offer than racism and bigotry so act like it.
As far as I'm concerned this is annual erasure and silence. Ongoing genocidal plot to erase us from history, even from the holidays that wouldn't exist without us. Even native "allies" get around acknowledging it by looping back around to "well I don't celebrate that part, it's just a family day to me"
Like okay... A family day that's still rooted in our genocide.
???????
Y'all can't have a family holiday that isn't based in someone else's oppression? Can't even imagine acknowledging the oppression in the ones that exist?
Like what if this was a National Day of Mourning and you celebrated family and being grateful for what you have perhaps right after Black Friday instead of before it?
Like do you hear yourselves? You celebrate being grateful right before a historically violent sale day and I'm supposed to be conscientious and mindful of how serious and important it is to you.
Meanwhile me and my people literally have to mourn family and ancestors and knowledge and culture and spirit we lost in a fucking a genocide. We sit at our table today and we are so Actually genuinely grateful all the people who are there. Because every single day we have to live with the truth that our tables and communities are far emptier than they should be.
And every year we have to see all these performative ass #grateful posts from insta models and racists or even companies currently using slave labor.
Thanksgiving day sales.
Fucking gross.
White people in the USA do in fact have more to offer than these watered down leftover holidays built on racism on slaughter that you didn't even care about anymore. Families across the USA are not celebrating a harvest in 2022. And you don't need to rebrand them and keep celebrating something you know is wrong just to have a nice family holiday either. (Literally just Make a family holiday??)
You have more to offer than looking at your history with an awkward laugh and insisting everyone have #GoodVibesOnly about it and saying they're "ruining the vibe" when we do something like beg you to acknowledge our genocide.
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cottage-core-cunt · 5 months
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Watching people foam at the mouth because some influencers/celebrities aren't speaking about the Palestinian genocide is so dystopian to me. How insecure must you be to insist that your favorite youtube creator or movie star speak about a genocide? Although some of you may believe it is an easy conclusion to come to, many people (INCLUDING CELEBRITIES) are just now beginning to question their world-view and doing that should be private. They do not owe you their political journey, nor is it fair for anyone to be entitled to it (not to mention, said political journey would get them "cancelled" because neither "side" would be happy with their conclusion).
All of this to say, American Liberals are spineless. If you demand answers to a political conflict from people who are uneducated, you're going to get uneducated answers, which leads to uneducated actions. Insisting you need a celebrities opinion on a political conflict just affirms the notion that liberals can't think for themselves (which has thus far been proven to be true). If you truly believe there is a genocide happening in Palestine, and if you truly believe that something needs to be done about it, then no ones opinion would ever matter to you. You wouldn't need to hear anyone else's opinion, because you would be affirmed in your own.
Also, there has been people saying that influencers/celebrities must "use their platform" to speak on issues. Why? They gained their platform by making silly videos, or songs, or being in movies. Why does their job description automatically come with "political advocate"? It's absolutely stupid to think that a famous persons opinion on the genocide would influence any politician; the only influence these people have is on their audience, and, unfortunately, posting their opinion tends to have no actual influence. Whether we like to believe it or not, people have opinions whether their "fave" agrees or not, and if they disagree then they just stop following. Having a "platform" is just a completely idiotic idea, and there can be no use of the "platform" in our modern day.
tl;dr: Influencers/Celebrities owe you nothing. Have your own opinion.
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benevolentbirdgal · 3 years
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Purim: a Jewish holiday and wild ride from start to finish
So let me tell you about the absolute soap opera that is the Jewish holiday of Purim. The scene is set in ancient (appx. 4th century B.C.E.) Persia during the first Jewish Diaspora, in the city of Shushan (typically identified in secular sources as Susa, a now-abandoned ancient city in what is now Iran). I’m telling you, as a work of literature (even beyond theological implications for Jewish people), this book has everything: love, drama, royalty, intrigue, ego, plots, irony, mystery, and a strong female lead. 
[some non-slur swearing below]
Ahasuerus, party-loving king of Persia executed or exiled (translations argue) his wife Vashti, and had to find a new queen. Why did he do this, you ask? Well, it really starts with an 180-day party across his kingdom for all his subjects to celebrate the third year of his reign. After that absolute rager, party-bro KA has another one immediately after for a week, this time just for the capital city of Shushan. Vashti was having a woman’s party in her quarters, presumably living her best life, when party-bro sends his top seven yes-men to deliver a message to Vashti. This sleaze-ball wants her to appear at his party in front of everyone, wearing her crown, with the clear implication being only her crown. Vashti more or less tells him to pound sand (I mean, not the literal translation, but that’s the sentiment). 
KA’s advisors convince him that this is not only an offense against the king but also against all the men in the country (ah, the joys of ancient patriarchy and toxic af masculinity). KA writes a degree that women must respect their husbands so he has an official reason to get rid of Vashti. Vashti is soon thereafter out of the picture and the king is short a queen. Whether she was a Wise Lady With A Point Who Got Screwed Over or a Vicious Jew-Hating Adulteress Who Had It Coming has been a matter of furious debate for over two millennia (the Babylonian Talmud and the Jerusalem Talmud vociferously disagree on her). In any case, KA regrets it pretty quick and wants a new queen. 
At the behest of his advisors (you know, since their last advice worked out soooooo well), KA had a big contest/forcible gathering of young women from around his kingdom and a Jewish woman, Hadassah, was the winner.  Hadassah was an orphan raised by her cousin Mordechai in the city of Shushan. Hadassah is more commonly known as Esther, because she changed her name to hide her identity as a Jew (at the behest of Mordechai). In any case, KA decided he liked Esther best and she became queen (it’s specifically mentioned both that he loved her most and that the palace staff liked her because she was nice to them-it’s unclear how much of an influence the latter was). 
Concurrently, a wicked man named Haman was the top advisor to the king and the king would basically rubber-stamp whatever Haman wanted. Haman was a raging Jew-hater-this will be relevant later. 
Some time into Esther’s reign as queen, Mordechai, who has taken to hanging around the gates of the palace to keep in touch with Esther, overhears a plot by two guards, Bigthan and Teresh, to kill the king. Mordechai alerts his cousin, and she tells the king. It’s recorded in the book of deeds and life keeps moving. 
Some time later, Haman decides (after a promotion to head lackey) that he wants all to bow to him as he passes. Mordechai refused to bow to Haman every single day (citing that as a Jew he bowed to no man), and that did not sit well with Haman. So despite being prime minister and presumably having more important things to do, “genocide the Jews” made it to the top of to-do list. He didn’t like them before, and Mordechai refusing to treat him like a special snowflake was something he took really, really personally (totally can’t think of any modern politicians like that, nope). He told KA, who frankly doesn’t seem to ask enough questions, that there was a people disrespecting the king and his laws throughout the land, and could he pretty-please exterminate them. As a bonus, Haman would “donate” 10,000 silver kikar to the royal treasury (modern conversion vary, but all agree this an absurd amount on money). 
KA handed him the royal seal to do so. Haman was feeling lucky I guess so he decided the best course of action was to draw lots to pick the day for the massacre. [Purim is lots in Hebrew, so that’s where the name of the holiday came from]. The message went out to all the provinces that on the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, that they citizens and leaders should murder all of the Jews, young and old, man, woman, and child, rich and poor and take their possessions as spoils. 
As this wasn’t exactly a state secret, the Jews knew and were quite distressed. The planned slaughter was like a year out, but what the actual fuck were they supposed to do? If you lived in Persia at that point that, the empire was functionally your entire world, unless you were fabulously/ridiculously wealthy and well-connected. Having several months notice the other locals and your rules were going to slaughter you and take your stuff isn’t particularly useful when there’s really nowhere to go. 
In Shushan, Mordechai (who, although not explicitly in text, is in oral/Talmudic tradition a leader of the Jewish community) goes into mourning. He dresses in sackcloth and ashes, he weeps, and he fasts at the gates of the palace, as Jews throughout shushan and the kingdom are doing. Esther hears of her cousin’s mourning behavior and tries to send along nice clothes through a messenger, which he refuses. It is then that she learns of the decree. Mordechai (through the messenger) implores her to go ask the king if the Jews not getting murdered could be a thing. Esther explains that she could be killed for approaching the king unsummoned. Mordechai stresses the severity of the situation. Esther agrees to ask the king and tells Mordechai to have the Shushan Jewish community fast day and night (as opposed to just day as prior) for three days, and she and her handmaidens will fast too (no word on what the handmaidens thought of this).
On the third day, Esther bravely approached the king, asked him if she could request something. He said anything, up to half his kingdom (which implies to me that homedude, for all his flaws, was actually into her). Esther invited him to a party, where he and Haman would be the only guests. At the party she asks if she can another request. KA is open to it and she invites him to another party the next night. Party-bro king is obviously down and Haman is tickled to death at this second invitation. 
He goes home to brag to his wife, Zeresh, about the invite and also to bitch about how angsty he is Mordechai is still alive (this angst reignited by passing him on the way home). Zeresh suggests he have fifty-foot gallows built to make Mordechai an example on, with the king’s permission, ASAP. Haman orders the building of the gallows, feeling secure in the knowledge that his bestie the king will execute Mordechai on them. 
Back at the castle KA can’t sleep. He demands a bedtime story from the his records, because those will presumably put him to sleep. The story that gets read, ~coincidentally~, is of Mordechai saving KA’s life. Haman had sidled on up to the castle to speak to the king about killing Mordechai, and the king called him in. KA asks Haman, if he were to honor someone, what should he do? Haman is thinking “this is obvi about me” and tells the king that the honoree should be donned in royal clothing, and ride through the streets on a fancy horse with people someone shouting how great he is. KA is like great, love it, perf, go do that for Mordechai. Haman is not a happy camper but does the thing. After that, he goes home and tells Zeresh about it, who warns him that this is a very bad sign. 
Finally, that night is the night of Esther’s second soiree. Haman and KA attend. The latter offers to Esther anything she wants, up to half of his kingdom. Esther asks that her life, and the life of her people be spared. KA is like “whomst” and Esther revealed it was Haman. At this point Ahasuerus.exe stops working and he takes a walk to the gardens. He comes back to see Haman begging Esther for his life, and KA thinks Haman is assaulting her. Haman was seized by nearby guards.
One of the chamberlains is then like, hey, KA, coincidentally there’s these super high gallows Haman just had built. Why not take care of the problem that way? (The fact that the random nearby chamberlain was like yup, that dude, hang ‘em in the morning, probably says a lot about how Haman treated most people around him, even more than forcing all to bow to him). KA orders it be done. 
Not that Haman was around to be sad about it, but what happened next would have massively pissed him off, as his old job then went to Mordechai. Esther then implored of the king that the degree to allow the massacre of the Jews be reversed. The king couldn’t Cntrl+Z the order to murder-all-the-Jews, but he could issue an order that they could fight back. The proclamation was sent throughout the land, and the Jews were able to prepare. Since the royal decree had been amended, the governments (princes, governors, satraps) largely reformulated their plans accordingly, but plenty of Jew-haters still wanted to use the opportunity. The ability to self-defend meant that the communities weren’t massacred. In most of the kingdom, the Jews were now safe. Outside of Shushan, the fourteenth of Adar became a feast day. 
Shushan was still not safe though. Antisemites were still out and mad (and apparently had not learned from the previous day), so Esther asked the Jews of Shushan to be allowed to defend themselves once more. Her wish was granted, and the Shushan Jews were able to defend themselves once more (so Purim is celebrated a day later in walled cities). 
The story ends with the decision to write it down, and although there some debate on authorship, it is traditionally attributed to Esther herself cowriting with Mordechai. 
Nowhere in the book is God mentioned. Nowhere is there divine intervention (at least not explicitly). Just Jews sticking up for themselves, being brave in the face of mortal peril, and a metric fucktown of chutzpah. 
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caesthetix · 3 years
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A LITTLE FEAR — Pt. 3 The Last Goodbye
↪Jean Kirstein mini-series
↪content; canon universe, description of violence, season 4 spoiler, forbidden love, marleyan!reader, scouts!jean, chapter 138 spoiler
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Everyone was waiting, a dozen pairs of eyes looking at you with hope, wanting to hear any command from your lips. You were the only one who could calm them down, the only one who was still alive, the hope that shone even when everyone was on the brink of death.
They could not unsee it, those gigantic monsters called titans. Slowly but surely, walking towards where they were right now. You had sent all of your ships ahead to drop all the bombs in hope that it could stop them, or maybe just slow them down.
But it was no use, all of those brave soldiers were now dead knowing they tried to win this fight. The fight that they never prepared to have, the fight that was probably triggered by your own country, the fight that they couldn't win. You knew it, but you were not going to back down without giving all of your might.
"Commander! Look!" One of the troops called, pointing at the flying boat that flew from behind the line of titans. "That's the cart titan! And— the armoured titan, commander! We are saved! They will win this fight, we just need to wait!" He shouted so anyone could hear, wanting to share the news. "Even the island devils too! They are joining forces to stop that monster!"
The sound of cheers followed right after the troop announced that. It only needed the fact that someone else was taking care of the fight, that was the only thing they needed to lift the burden off their shoulders. At least for a while, they have the privilege to feel that.
You wanted to speak up, tell them that it was not the time to celebrate yet. But as you turned away from the fight ahead and looked behind you, finding your soldiers sobbing out of relief and crying from the happiness that perhaps they had a chance to live — you didn't dare to take that away from them.
Deep down, you wanted to believe that they were going to win. You wanted to take some rest too, believing them completely. After all, two titans could help them do anything, and perhaps the Ackermans were there too, enhancing their success rate even more.
But you could not rest, ever since you knew that Marley sent ninety percent of their army to attack the Paradis altogether, you could not sit down and do nothing. You needed to occupy yourself with anything, even though it was just staring at the horde of colossal titan, at least your mind was preoccupied with the thought of war.
At least your mind was not preoccupied with the thought of him.
You cursed your higher-ups when they told you to stay in Marley. Saying you are the wittiest commander, the one with a clear mind and with a good sense of war on top of that. You didn't know what happened on the other side of the sea. Whether your country won or not, you didn't know.
Until this morning, of course. Until when you woke up in your private barracks this morning. Everything was in chaos, soldiers running around to pack up, saying things about how Marley was already lost. Or more accurately, the whole world had lost.
Liberio was already gone, thousands or perhaps millions of titans were sent to wipe the entire planet clean. They said the devil in Paradis wanted to commit genocide to the whole world, leaving nothing but empty ground filled with thousands of corpses on top of it, working as a fertilizer for a brand new world.
But that was it. That was the only information you got. Everyone was waiting for your command after delivering the message to you, and you wanted to curse yourself since the first thing that came into your mind was not a war strategy, not a plan to keep on living, no.
You wanted to curse yourself as a commander that the first thing you thought about was — is he safe?
It was a question, stopping your brain to think about anything else. You were human too, grief and sadness were something that you could feel and you just needed a minute alone to calm yourself down. But you couldn't succumb yourself to such a thing as you were the only hope the Marleyan Military had right now.
So here you were in this moment, standing tall on the Air Force Unit base in Fort Salta. You called every troop who still wanted to fight, and for those who wanted to leave you promised them there wouldn't be punishment. And you were proud to know that the majority of them chose to go with you.
But they're dead now. Those pilots carried out the command that you gave without hesitating. It was a simple task, fly on top of the colossal titans and drop the bombs. They were supposed to go back, reporting to their post that they could slow the movement for a little or maybe kill some of the titans.
No one expected the beast titan to appear out of nowhere and throw shards at them, no one expected the bomb to detonate far from the lines of titans, no one expected that the force would die with no result at all. And for those who stayed beside you could only ask, "What should we do now, commander?"
There was nothing else that you could do. And at a time like this, you wondered why they decided to be here. Unlike you, they had someone who greeted them when they came home every day. They had a family; a mother who cooked them dinner, a lover that would warm their bed, they had kids that listen to them as they read a bedtime story.
And yet, despite knowing they could spend the last moment of their life with the people who loved them, they decided to stay.
Yes, they were loved, unlike you.
Your parents disowned you the second you decided to get passed down over the family business, you had no real friends that cared for your well-being, you had no one else outside of the military and that was the only reason you were here right now instead of abandoning your position.
That, and the wishful thinking which perhaps if you stay alive, you would meet him again.
"Commander?" You jolted when one of the soldiers called you. Clearing your throat, you erase all of the stupid thoughts that occupied your mind.
"Yes, soldier?" Your voice was stern, wanting to portray that you were not wavering. You waited for him to answer your question, but it seemed like he hesitated. His eyes scrutinized you with worry, and that was enough to make you question him. "Soldier—"
"Why are you crying, commander?"
Your pupils dilated when you heard his words. You frantically wiped your cheeks with your fingers, not wanting to let him see how vulnerable you were at this moment. He was kind enough to give you space after that, muttering an apology before leaving your side, and you wished he didn't say anything to the others.
Right now, you were their power and hope. If you showed any sign of weakness, it could decrease their morale, and you didn't want it to happen. So you just looked forward after that, perfecting your stance as you prepared your binocular to see better what happened up there.
And as you did so, you wished that Jean was not up there. Or if he did, then you could only hang on high hopes that he would survive.
Because you refused to acknowledge that you had no chance to say goodbye.
Never have you felt like this for so long. Perhaps, you never felt like this for all the years you lived your life. Your whole body felt so warm as the carnal desire that you had before slowly subsided. Sweats coating your skin, making the strands of your hair sticking to it like it was glued.
You were sprawled out on top of this cheap mattress, eyes scrutinizing the pattern on the wall as you inhaled and released the air out of your body bit by bit, recalling what happened a few hours earlier. You never thought that this weekend would be different from the others. Hitting the bar after such a long week was like a celebration for you, and so, you were there, seated yourself on the right end of the bar, and drinking whatever alcohol they served you.
But you didn't expect your night to unfurl like this. Laying in the arms of a stranger who introduced himself as Jean Kirstein. His intense eyes mesmerized you as he gazed down upon your figure, vivid brown looking so bright under the dim light of the bar — and it didn't change, even when you laid under him in this dark motel room with the moon as the only source of light.
Never once you ever let a stranger string you along like this. Whether you were sober or under influence of the alcohol, you could always stand your ground. So when you took his hand and ran giddily beside him like stupid, hormonal teenagers, it was all your choice by the end of the day.
The rattle of belts brought you back to the present. You turned your head to find the stranger already dressed neatly as if he didn't just turn a fierce commander to be a lady who had to fulfill her needs. Whatever happened tonight was a mistake, at least that was what his body language told you as he scrambled around the room, searching for his belongings.
You propped your elbow and laid on your side, watching him intently while your naked body still hidden under the blankets, really a contrast to him now. His face filled with worry, and now it made you wonder why a man could be so afraid of something like a one-night stand.
He turned to look at you as he fetched his fedora hat from the ground, plopping it on top of his head with newfound confidence as he was done calming himself. His eyes popped a little, not expecting you to stare at him with a gentle smile on your face. Without regret could be seen inside as if you enjoyed his company more than anyone else.
"I thought you were still asleep." He whispered out, knowing well that it was so late at night.
"And let you go without saying goodbye? In your dreams, Kirstein." You mockingly said with a sultry note, rolling your body so now you sat at the edge of the bed, still locking your gaze with him.
He rolled his eyes, wanting to look as if he was annoyed. But the small smirk forming on his face didn't go unnoticed by you.
"Guess you wouldn't let me go that easily, huh?"
He took off his fedora once again, clutching it tightly as he pressed it on his chest. For sure you would think that he had a title or some kind of aristocracy in his blood with how much of a gentleman he had been this whole time.
Or maybe he was just a normal Marleyan, someone without any special role. Yes, a simple man, being attracted to a simple man wouldn't be so bad after all. Then again, that kind of fashion was one of a kind, he could be an underground criminal too, perhaps, you could never guess.
But now though, with how enchanting he looked right now with those challenging gaze thrown at you — you didn't care where he came from or what kind of dark secret that he hides. You didn't know anything about him and yet it didn't stop you from giving him some attention.
Because despite your blindness, you still wanted him. So much.
"I wouldn't let you go without saying a proper goodbye."
You closed your eyes, easing the pain that suddenly throbbed your skull as you recalled the first night that you spent with him. Your mind played some of the memories that you had like a broken record, never-ending and felt like a nightmare most of the time since you knew it was just a distant past that could never happen again.
It was not the time to think about yourself or worry about his existence. You needed to let it go for now, and you had to be the commander that everyone expected you to be. Right now was not the right time to be a normal human. Not when your whole life was filled with peculiarity.
"Thank you."
You gave Mr. Leonhart a firm nod and a smile as you helped him up. "I always knew that you are not like any other Marleyan Commander, you did the right thing by firing all those rounds into the air." He chuckled softly, making his wrinkles more visible by it.
The Marleyan and Eldian clashed before, having both sides pointing their guns at each other. But you stated before that there was enough hatred in this world, and you needed to start from here, emptying the bullets that the Marleyan had to the sky, followed by the Eldian doing the exact same thing as they knew it was time to let go of the hate.
And now, it seemed like the rumbling had stopped. You saw it with your own eyes how yellow lights from a transformation engulfed your vision. Everyone was blinded, no one knew what happened until the lights subsided. Even now as the Marleyan helped those who got injured, no one in this fortress knew what happened out there.
There was a high possibility that the joined forces had won the battle since now you could feel the ground had stopped shaking. The explosion from before must be from the colossal titan that fell on Paradis's hand, successfully crushing the founder and stopping the rumbling.
"Dad?"
Not too far from you, stood a woman with blonde hair and beautiful ocean eyes. Mr. Leonhart immediately turned to face her, and he was frozen at the spot, couldn't believe his own eyes that he finally reunited with someone that you believed was his daughter.
It was so beautiful to see such a reunion. You knew that Annie Leonhart was still stuck in Paradis due to some circumstances, and for them having a chance to see each other again, must have felt like a blessing.
But the serene moment didn't last more than a few seconds. There was a sudden smoke engulfing the air around you. No one knew what it was, but it suffocated everyone as it filled their lungs. And your instinct told you to run — finding its source.
Right now, you needed to stop being a commander.
"Captain! You are the one in charge while I am gone!"
"Wait, commander!"
You couldn't stop. Your heart was beating a thousand times faster as you ran and left the fortress, ignoring the shout from your troops as you trotted past the smokes. You needed to understand what happened, and you needed to see if maybe he was here too.
There was a gush of wind, and you squinted your eyes to find a titan flew from the edge of the cliff. It was the same titan that you saw carrying the joined forces right before the explosion. And you wondered why they left so abruptly.
Was it because of the smoke? Were they going to come back later? Why they seemed to be so afraid with—
"Jean?"
Just like that, you couldn't think of anything else. It was as if the time had stopped when your eyes laid to the familiar ash-brown mullet that you always loved to run your fingers to. He wore the straps and belt that you knew what it was for, and even though his hair was dishevelled right now, he still looked so breathtaking.
He carefully turned to face you, and his brown orbs immediately filled with relief and something else entirely that you could not fathom. And despite the smoke surrounding the place, he was the only thing that you could see, the only one that you could focus on.
He looked so tired as if he wanted nothing but sleep for years. His eyes glinted under the sun and yet the shone inside those chocolate orbs looked dimmed already. You couldn't hear what his friend told him, you couldn't see the horror on his friend's face as you stood there — only ten feet apart from the man that you have been longing to see.
You took a few steps forward, just a little more and you could feel his body heat once more. It was the only thing that you wanted in the world, especially at this moment. To feel his warm embrace once again, to capture that plump lips with yours.
Jean could believe neither his eyes nor his ears. He heard your voice so vividly before, and now he could see you, standing flesh without any prominent wound on your body. What Pieck said was true, you would be here and very much alive. So there was only one thing left that he needed to do.
But then he felt Connie's arms wrapped around his torso.
"Jean! Snap out of it!"
No, you were so close, he was so close to giving the key back to you.
"She could be burned by the transformation!"
Then his pupils widened at the realisation.
You were there, right in front of him. And you kept walking forward without understanding the situation. Your eyes glistened with tears, hopefully, it was happy tears. And with how his vision blurred as he saw you this close, he knew that he was in the same state as you.
Maybe, then maybe just having another look at you was enough for him.
"Stand back!"
He stopped you from taking another step, making you halt your feet as he backed away from where you were. Giving you space from him and the others Eldian so you didn't get hurt later, but enough for you to hear him in this stretched-out moment.
There was no time, he could turn into a titan a few seconds from now. Running to you and returning the key to your palm would be too risky, and he didn't want you to die just yet when he felt like the world was finally free from fear.
Free from hatred and war, free from oppression. And perhaps — free to love whoever you want.
This time, he was actually grateful that he fell in love with a Marleyan. If that meant his love could live and see the world that they always wanted, it was enough for him. He was happy enough to know that you would stay alive while he would be gone as a soldier who fulfilled his duty.
If only that cursed creature was not here in this world. If only it didn't emit the smoke that could turn the Eldians to a mindless titan. If only his body didn't have this blood flowing through his veins. If — God, everything filled with that word. Just if only he met and fell in love with you under different circumstances.
Maybe he could live with you on prime real estate in wherever place that you wanted. He could live a long and happy life with you and future children, then he could bring you to meet his mother too, he was sure that she would adore you solely because you love him.
But it was all just a fantasy that would never come true.
So perhaps, he needed to do it any other day.
"I am sorry, love."
"Wait, Jean!"
"I'll give you back the key someday."
"Jean, I—"
A booming voice rang through your ears as your body was thrown away from the force. Your head slammed to the building behind you before your figure fell to the ground, making you feel detached from the rest of the world as your consciousness floating through the empty space, filled with static.
You heard a roar, and the ground beneath you seemed to shake once more. You tried to open up your eyes, only to find out that your vision blurred from the impact your head took just now. But you could still see it, gigantic feet filled your vision as you started to understand what happened.
You were supposed to move away, shielding yourself from these mindless titans that suddenly transformed. You should have remembered one of Zeke's miracles about how he could use a cloud of smoke to control an entire village in Paradis a few years ago. It was the same as back then and you should have remembered.
You should have remembered that you were in love with an Eldian, and something like this was bound to happen.
Now you knew why Jean's friend pulled him away from your figure. Now you could finally hear the warning and understood why they tried to keep you within a safe distance. They didn't want you to be burned alive, afraid that you would die if you were just a little too close.
Coughing up from all the rubbles that impaled your lungs, you gently leaned your back to the building that was still intact, waiting for your eyes to see everything clearly. All the Eldians were transformed, including those who were inside the fortress.
So you decided to sit there, watching how he turned into a titan as you wish that this nightmare would end soon. The familiar ash-brown hair titan roared as it looked around, perhaps searching for any human that it could devour.
You didn't try to run away just yet as you still need time to accept the fact. The burning sun and the rough ground that scratch your skin were nothing compared to the discomfort that swirled in your stomach just now. Realising that Jean was gone, accepting the fact that he was now a titan would be the hardest thing that you ever did in life.
It turned to look at you, at least to where you were right now. Maybe it would be alright if you died in his hand, you let your body go limp and just stare at his now empty eyes. He was not there anymore, he couldn't think or have a mind of himself. Now Jean became a puppet for the cursed creature.
You thought that this would be the climax, a tragic ending for the star-crossed lover. There was no happy ending in this story, in the grey relationship that you had with him. So it didn't matter anymore how cruel your death would be, you died in a war and you had no regret over it.
Though, he just stood there. His eyes never left your figure, not even moved an inch or gave away any sign that he would eat you alive. He just looked at you — as if he could still think, as if your Jean was still there, saying goodbye and muttering apology inside his mind.
The time seemed to slow down as you could see a single tear slipped from his eyes. Either it was your imagination or reality, you didn't know that. You were not given any explanation or a chance to take another look at him as he suddenly turned his back on you and ran.
Just as simple as that, he jumped off to the cliff along with the other new titans, gone from your eyesight and gone from your life. Completely, without a chance that he would come back again and stand in front of your door like what he used to do.
The two of you were not in Marley, not cooped up inside of your apartment where you could relish his presence. He was not just a stranger that slipped into your life, becoming a part of your routine and made your day felt more beautiful and worth getting by.
Tomorrow you wouldn't see him again, or feel his heartbeat as you laid on top of him, fingers following the line of his marks like what you loved to do.
Instead, you needed to face reality where you could no longer greet him with a confident hello that always made him smile. You needed to face reality, that you couldn't give him a proper goodbye, with him planting a kiss on your lips to reassure you that he would be back tomorrow.
Because you knew that he was already gone. And despite knowing how hard it would be for you to keep it in mind — you needed to accept it.
Even if it took you a lifetime to carry out.
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jbbuckybarnes · 3 years
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Scared & Sacred - Ch. 6
Pairing: Din Djarin x pregnant!Reader Description: The Mandalorian had helped you while you were hunted for your family name and you had grown a little closer over the months, but you didn’t expect THIS. How was this possible after just three times of getting so close  to him. You had to find a nurse as fast as possible. Warnings: pregnancy, fluff, canon typical violence, helmetless Din, emotional wedding, evil Bo-Katan, canon divergent, not proofread
M A S T E R L I S T
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Chapter 6 - Mand’alor
*Urgent Message* Din pressed the button to play the transmission. „There is a group of Mandalorians attacking several empire and rebellion outposts. You happen to know them?“ Greef‘s voice asked through the white noise. „How many?“ „Three or four, my sources aren‘t quite sure.“ „Did they see any specific weapons?“ Grumbling he leaned his heat against the back of the pilot‘s seat. „Some kind of sword they said.“ A sigh left the Mandalorian‘s lungs. „Last location?“ „Heading towards Nevarro.“ His face went grim. „I‘m on my way.“ The transmission stopped. „Great.“ He mumbled, „Way to ruin my great day.“
It wasn‘t long until both of you were prepared and in hyperspace en route to Nevarro. There was more info coming through over time. Two female, one male, dark sword, incredibly ruthless, preaching like a Moff and talking about Mandalore and revenge. „Great.“ Din mumbled next to you and aggressively punched the button turning the message off. „So it‘s Bo-Katan.“ „Seems like it.“ „And she seeks revenge.“ „Apparently.“ „And that dark saber seems to hold some relevance to that.“ „I have no clue.“ You heard another sigh from him. „What?“ „It‘s just...I had something else planned today. Specifically today.“ „Oh.“ You pouted and took his gloved hands. „It was supposed to be a surprise for you.“ He went on and put his other hand on top of yours. „Oh?“ You looked up at his visor with those soft eyes that usually made him melt. „Yes, and the whole village was in on it. Why does this crazy lady need to do her saber revenge trip today? I just wanted to have a great celebration of us with some friends. Can‘t even have that.“ You never saw him so emotional about something and your eyes widened. „It‘s alright, Din. Whatever it is surely can wait. I know that I can.“ You gave him a reassuring smile. „Besides, you should put that anger into stopping her.“ He nodded sharply.
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„Your people stood with the empire destroying my religion‘s planet. And for that you will pay.“ You heard the yelling from afar. „You and Greef take Koska, I‘ll take her.“ You nodded and you both started running. A big chaos broke out in the city center just seconds later. „You really think you can win against me?“ Koska chuckled towards your defensive stance. „Yes.“ Greef behind her took her guns from her holsters. A series of kicks and throws against Greef ended up with one of her blasters in your hand and one of them back in her hand, holding it against Greefs back.. You heard her talk but didn‘t really listen. Concentration went towards aiming at that spot at her neck that was without armor. You pulled the trigger, hit, aimed for the free hip, pulled the trigger, hit. Standing over her you took her blaster away. „I learned from a bounty hunting Mandalorian. You really think you can win against me?“ You smirked hearing a pained and annoyed grumble.
The saber made an eerie sound against the braces on Din‘s arms. „I can‘t believe one of my own brothers is turning against me. As if our kind hasn‘t been torn apart enough.“ „You are killing innocent people. You are no better than the people during the purge.“ He groaned and pushed against her. „They were complicit.“ „Because not everyone is willing to give their life for change in the galaxy.“ „Weak-minded.“ „Killing them won‘t change the past, Bo!“ „No, but it means it won‘t be repeated.“ „Genocides will never stop happening in this galaxy. But fighting innocent people plants hatred for our kind in the minds of children. Don‘t you think they will be the ones to repeat the purge?“ He growled strained by all the fighting. „No.“ She sounded feral, „And you‘ll die just like them for your betrayal.“ „Not on the day I was supposed to marry.“ He gathered all his strength and she was off-guard for that one milli-second, landing on the floor with the saber falling from her hand. His knee landed on her chest plate, grabbing the saber, lighting it up and holding it against her neck. „I won‘t kill you, if you give me a reason not to.“ He said out of breath. „You have won against me in a fair fight. That weapon is yours now. It makes you the ruler of Mandalore. You despise my views. I don‘t see a reason for you to keep your enemies alive.“ He couldn‘t kill her. He just couldn’t. It didn’t feel like the right thing to do. In the blink of an eye a blastershot whizzed past him into her shoulder, „Traitor.“ „You chose a fierce Queen of Mandalore, Mand‘alor.“ „I know.“ He stood up and nodded at Greef to get the rest done.
„So...do we go to Mandalore now?“ You looked up at him once you were close to the Crest. „If you promise to become my Queen there.“ You could hear his smile. His hand wandered beneath your chin, „Queen Y/N, Clan of Djarin.“ „It would be the greatest honor.“ „Great, cause I had a whole wedding on Sorgan planned today, let‘s make it a two part adventure.“ „You did what?“ „Nothing.“ He innocently answered and opened the Crests ramp, leaving you there with your mouth agape.
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About a day later everyone had finally arrived like Din wanted. On Mandalore, with him as the taxi driver, in a palace he didn‘t know, but with support of a not too small group of local Mandalorians that seemed friendly to him. 
It‘s not like it was a big crowd. Maybe twenty people total. Some of the people you met on your travels and a couple friends from Sorgan. They had brought all the food they had already prepared, Omera helping you put on the beautiful light blue dress. „You look gorgeous, princess.“ She rubbed your arms and smiled proudly. „I‘m nervous.“ „Nothing to be nervous about. You‘ll marry a man who loves you, around people who support you. Nothing to worry about.“ You took a deep breath in and out, „Alright, I‘m ready.“
The old hymn of your family played as the double doors were opened by Mandalorians and you saw the big room filled with only the essential people. At the end of the aisle you could see Din in his full armor with his back to you. You walked towards him with Omera and Winta right behind you as your support. He had kept the dress stored away until earlier in the day, it fit perfectly. Left and right you could see familiar faces smile. Their last wedding must’ve been a while ago too. The war had made the bigger festivities so rare.
You came to a hold next to your helmeted man, his helmet went to your side and you didn’t have to see or hear him, you saw the positive shock and awestruckness in his body language. You gave a wide excited smile back up at him and the person marrying you both started talking. You only listened with one ear, the other went to the happy noises from Grogu and your eyes were still on the helmet in front of you. “Din Djarin, Ruler of Mandalore, repeat these words after me. Mhi solus tome.” “Mhi solus tome.” “Mhi solus dar’tome” “Mhi solus dar’tome” “Mhi me’dinui an.” “Mhi me’dinui an.” “Mhi ba’juri verde.” “Mhi ba’juri verde.” He had both your hands in his hands and pressed his thumbs into the backs of your hands for a second before the ceremony master turned towards you with Din’s wedding symbols for you. He took the beskar ring off of the black little pillow and held your hand higher and more delicately. A tear dropped down and his eyes beneath the helmet looked up for a second to make sure they were tears of joy before pushing the ring onto your finger. Then he took a necklace, the pendant on it was the same as his clan signet. Gently he put it over your head and around your neck. “Y/N, you are now of the Djarin clan. Honor this signet and what it stands for.” You nodded before pushing some of your tears aside and taking a deep breath. “Y/N, Princess of Karaku, repeat these words after me. Mhi solus tome.” “Mhi solus tome.” “Mhi solus dar’tome” “Mhi solus dar’tome” “Mhi me’dinui an.” “Mhi me’dinui an.” “Mhi ba’juri verde.” “Mhi ba’juri verde.” While the ceremony master turned back to get your things you heard Din chuckle. “Don’t make fun of my accent!” You grinned up at him. The room giggled for a bit and went silent as the ceremony master turned forward again. Din removed his gloves for you to put the ring on him and saw your shakiness, “Breathe.” The ring landed on his finger and both of you looked back up to the man marrying you. “Din Djarin, you are now Prince of Karaku. Honor your new duty and don’t take it lightly.” The room cheered at you both finally being wife and husband, but it wasn’t over yet.
The ceremony master handed you paint and you gave a proud wide smile in return. “The greatest honor for a Mandalorian is to wear his beliefs in beskar and color.” You took the first of the three colors, “Symbolically your partner will now honor this belief with you.” You took the brush and the man spoke, “Blue, represents reliability. This is for your foundling, your bounty hunting and protecting your partner.” You painted the outline of his visor before taking the next color. “White, a color representing a new start. It stands for your marriage, taking on the duties of the Mand’alor and family life.” You painted the indents of his armor’s “cheeks” and grinned before going for the third color. “Red, stands for honoring a parent. You’ll be wearing it to honor your birth parents, your lost clan and to remind yourself of your duties as a father.” You painted it along the middle part on top of the head. The paint was just symbolic and the actual paint would come later, but that red meant a lot to him and you knew it. “Wear these colors with pride and let them remind you of your values.” “Thank you, I’ll wear them with honor.” He nodded and looked back at you. “You may kiss your partner.” The man pointed out. Din’s hands wandered to your cheeks before softly leaning his helmet against your forehead. You had learned that it was called a Keldabe kiss. Your hands slowly wandered from the sides of his helmet to grab around the lower edge. He leaned his head back again and it felt like you could see the smile through the visor. The little hissing sound came as you released the helmet on his head. The room got a little hush hush. Some of them had never seen him without his helmet and still knew him as a strict man of his creed. Watery brown eyes were the first thing you saw and gave a little pout before being pulled closer for a real wedding kiss. Everyone in the room went wild now and you’d lie if you said you both didn’t giggle like children about it while kissing. “Hello Queen Djarin,” he whispered into your ear and landed himself in an attack of little kisses all over his face.
The room had calmed shortly after and everyone was preparing the food they initially had made for yesterday. Din stole you away to another room for a minute. “You look gorgeous. I think I forgot to breathe a couple times.” He kneeled down to kiss your belly, “And my Princess looks amazing too.” “You made me a necklace of your signet.” You gave him doe eyes ones he stood up normally again. “Of course. You’re part of my clan now.” His hand was covering the side of your face and his thumb caressed your cheek. Right until you decided to jump up and attack him with a passionate kiss. “I love you.” He mumbled between kisses. “Love you too.” You got out too. He came up for air and chuckled, “Forgot how much you like me in armor without the helmet on my head.” “So much.” You pouted again. “We need to go back or they’ll steal all the good food before we get there.” His smile was wide. You sighed but nodded in agreement. 
You entered the room to Grogu walking all over the table begging for food with his big eyes. And you saw Peli making a beeline towards you, “Hell, if I would’ve known such a handsome face was under that tin bucket, I would’ve went a little easier on you.” She pressed together his face and he looked over to you with his look screaming, *Help! Is this what grandmothers are like for Non-Mandalorians?* “Peli…” She let him go, “Of course, but ya could’ve warned us about that.” “What? The handsome face or the removal of the helmet?” You grinned and winked at her. “Ideally both. Come over, I saved you some of the tukal filled breads.” Truly a bit of a grandma. He sighed as she went to her seat and you giggled, “Be grateful for all the love, cyare.” “I’m really trying, mesh’la. I really am.”
___
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askaceattorney · 3 years
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These are letters regarding the situation that recently transpired. After this, we will no longer be answering any letters regarding politics. All of us agree that this blog needs to strictly stay out of politics. In truth, politics should never have been the center of this blog. After this, any letter regarding politics or the situation will be deleted.
This is a blog that focuses on answering letters to Ace Attorney canon characters. It does not discriminate anyone or any mod based on race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, politics, etc. and such actions are not tolerated. If you believe one of our mods is discriminating for whatever reason, show solid evidence and we will handle this privately. A support for a former or current president of a country is not proof of discrimination and neither are political memes posted on a personal account.
(More Politics Ahead)
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Dear rogertheegg,
Co-Mod: Nope. Everyone’s welcome here, regardless of political leanings.  I’m afraid I’m as clueless as you are about what exactly happened with the two former Mods (they didn’t even say anything to me about it), but it’s all water under the bridge as far as I’m concerned.
Mod Edgeworth: Absolutely not! I have never tolerated political discrimination. You are allowed to believe whatever politics you want.
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Dear kunaiman,
Co-Mod: High five.
Mod Edgeworth: Thank you very much for your support.
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Dear Mistakes,
Mod Edgeworth: I’m not going to go into anything else regarding my politics, but I will state my reason for outing myself: I’m doing this for Co-Mod.  I do consider him a friend of sorts and I do not wish for him to have to suffer this blowback alone. So, if you want to state your grievances, go ahead.
Know this though, I am still the same mod you have met and have never hidden my character from any of you. My politics do not define my character and neither does Co-Mod’s politics define his character. The same goes for anyone else. I’m just someone that leans Conservative and voted for Trump. If that makes me a bad person, even if I do stand against any discrimination, then I will gladly accept it.
Co-Mod: So, here’s the truth about me, Donald Trump, the MAGA Committee, etc. (and this is from the horse’s mouth, so anyone who says otherwise is lying) -- I’ve never been a huge fan of the guy, but I supported the good things he did and wanted to do during his presidency -- creating jobs, draining the political swamp, promoting patriotism, and so on -- and for that, I feel no shame.  I also wished he could’ve kept his big mouth shut about a lot of things, but overall, I saw him as someone who stood up for people who’d been largely ignored before he came along -- namely, middle class Americans. If you see him and his presidency differently, I won’t hold anything against you for it, so I respectfully ask that you do the same for me.
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Dear Anonymous,
Mod Edgeworth: Don’t worry, I know who you are. You maybe under anonymous, but when we receive your letter, it isn’t anonymous lol. What we do is place your letter in photoshop and get rid of all your identity. Thank you for your support and I agree.
This blog will continue, even if it’s under a very few of us. I will allow everyone to display their grievances in the comment section. They have just as much right as Co-Mod and I do.
If there’s anyone I wish for you to support, it’s Co-Mod. He’s the one being the most effected by all of this. I don’t believe politics should have been involved or that we should have to justify why we believe in our politics. Neither have to do with our love for Ace Attorney.
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Dear I’m still surprised,
Mod Edgeworth: I’m guessing this is for Co-Mod, because it doesn’t seem like you’ve read my own defense. I literally stated that both Co-Mod and I support LGBT and that the letters deleted because of shipping had nothing to do with any political beliefs. Beyond what I stated in my defense (despite what Co-Mod states below), I won’t say anything more. Non of us have to justify why we support a former president. I have my reasons just like anyone else. It doesn’t make me a terrible person and I will forever stand for everyone’s rights to believe whatever politics they believe.
Co-Mod: It’s a shame I have to say this on an Ace Attorney blog of all places, but where is your proof that I or anyone on my side of the aisle takes any enjoyment in seeing anyone dead or oppressed, whether in a minority or otherwise?  I can only assume you’ve been listening to some skewed sources, or that there’s something huge I’m missing, because I’ve yet to see any right-wing groups reach that level of hatred.  (And if you know of any, please fill me in.  I mean that honestly.)
As for why I left same-sex attraction out of this blog, it’s simply because I see it as a divisive topic rather than a simply controversial one, (i.e. the death penalty, game piracy, etc.).  I’ve also proven several times that I’m not very good at addressing it without people getting rubbed the wrong way, so I decided to play it safe and not discuss it at all.  I’m happy to talk about it anywhere else, but a blog about Ace Attorney didn’t seem like the right place for it to me.  On top of that, there are plenty of blogs about peoples’ same-sex ships all over Tumblr, so why complain about this one?  If there’s a rule stating that Ace Attorney-themed Tumblr blogs are required to include those ships, I sure haven’t heard it.
I’ll admit this much -- like Phoenix, it’s something I can’t claim to understand, so maybe I still have some learning to do about it, but if I’m going to be accused of bigotry, I’d like to see some solid evidence of it.  Assumptions don’t count in my book.
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Dear Dailystir,
Mod Edgeworth: Thank you. I’m not going to address anymore than I already have. I will not and refuse to mention anything else on my politics. Just like how you said, I am more at the center in the political world. I lean more Conservative, but I am Independent. I consider both Republicans and Democrats to be two different wings from the same bird.
I’m also glad you do not consider being a Trump supporter to be in the same basket as being a racist, bigot or any of that. These days, I can declare myself as a supporter of Andrew Jackson (I’m not btw) and not be against Natives, even though he was the reason for the mass genocide of thousands of Native Americans. I can openly support Martain Luther King, yet not be considered homophobic, even though he was against LGBT. I can consider myself a Bill Clinton supporter and not support raping women, even though that’s what he did in office. Yet, the moment I declare myself a Trump supporter, I’m automatically Anti LGBT, a bigot, a sexist, a racist and a phobe of some sort, because Trump supposedly is? What a world we live in! I can’t remember the last time supporting a political figure or celebrity made you a terrible person.
As for Mod Vera and Mod Maya, I still wish they could’ve said something to me or Co-Mod, if they truly felt uncomfortable. I’m still willing to talk to either of them and hear them out. I don’t blame them for doing what they did. I don’t know them or what life they live in. I have talked to someone, who had faced bigotry  and hate from Trump supporters in their area to the point of fear. I’ve even seen a Trump supporter bully an Anti Trump Supporter and I ended up reporting the bully, then calling them out for their behavior. I can say from experience that when you face real discrimination, it puts you in a state of fear to never express yourself or your identity. My family faced that and so did I. It’s the reason I’ve never revealed my race, gender or sexual orientation and can understand where Mod Maya and Mod Vera are coming from.
I think the real takeaway is to not judge anyone based on their politics, but also to not hate anyone who does. You will find bigotry on any side of the political spectrum from any group. To say there is none on any side is spouting ignorance.
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Dear Anonymous,
Mod Edgeworth: It is sad, though even if I do understand where Mod Vera and Mod Maya are coming from, I still can’t justify them not talking to either of us first. They never spoke to either of us and assumed the worst out of both of us. They never asked us anything or mentioned their concerns. I’m certain, even now, they’re still assuming things.
Had they mentioned their grievances, I would have been willing to talk with them and work things out, but we were never given that chance. It kinda hurts, because they said they understood when I told them I was staying out of politics and was willing to admit that I supported Trump and am an Independent Conservative. Then, they pull the rug from under us and claim we are against ethnic minorities and LGBT. That’s why I wish they could’ve said something.
I’m still willing to talk to either of them, but I doubt they’ll want to hear from me. No amount of context is going to change that. If it did, they would’ve talked to me about it before leaving.
-The Mods
P. S. Co-Mod: As ugly as this can of worms is, it’s been a fun practice in defending my beliefs and decisions.  Never underestimate that skill, everyone.
Mod Edgeworth: I still can’t believe this was brought out at all. I’m so sick of politics!
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The Danganronpa V1 girls spending time with an S/o on Fourth of July!
I know that some people don’t celebrate it, but for those who do— take this! Happy 4th of July!
Toko Fukawa
•She would love to watch fireworks with you, even if she won’t admit it
•She thinks it’s simply romantic and sweet to be sitting in each other’s presence, watching the fireworks light up the night sky and swirling in a variety of different colors
•She loves to write about the moment with you, in such great detail that it’s endearing
•Toko would never take the initiative, but she thinks kissing while fireworks are going off would be really fun and sweet to do
•Also, if you guys decided to set off any on your own, lighting the fireworks is a big no for her
•You would have to light them
•But! If fireworks scare you, or you don’t like the sound of them, it doesn’t bother her
•She’d let you guys stay inside and cuddle together— though she’ll probably comment on how your scent is gross!
•She’s just trying to distract you from the loud booming outside, she doesn’t actually think that, it’s all light-hearted
•If you guys made any sort of snacks for the occasion, she’d help you make it!
•She honestly just loves spending time with you, and getting to do that on such a fun day really means a lot to her, even if she won’t admit it
•Toko probably added a firework scene in the book she’s currently writing, afterwords
•You’re lucky if you get to read it
Genocide Jack
•She doesn’t really understand why the 4th of July is celebrated, she only really sees it as a day to hear loud booming go off
•But! That doesn’t mean she doesn’t like it
•Watching fireworks together definitely consists of making out
•She won’t let you leave that area without doing that at least once
•No, she is not going to let you peacefully enjoy them, this is Genocide Jack we’re talking about
•She’d love to set off fireworks by herself, especially loud and big ones!
•Anyways— if you’re scared of fireworks, no problem!
•She’ll tease you about it for a while, but somehow, her shouting can cover up most of the sounds, so she just kind of yells and cackles about a bunch of random things
•She would be the one to insist that you two made something
•Like cookies, or something! Decorate the cookies to celebrate the occasion!
•She dropped approximately five eggs on the floor
•On purpose
•But, to wrap up the day, she would definitely drag you into bed and pull you close to her
•She’d mutter something vulgar, probably like, “I hope you enjoyed all that shit, it was fun as hell.”
•And then she’d fall asleep
•Overall— She really did have fun! It would just definitely be chaotic
Aoi Asahina
•Aoi was really excited to see fireworks with you!
•She thought they were just so pretty, and low and behold, they were!
•She held your hand the entire time, a smile on her face as you two watched the fireworks go off in the air
•She would definitely light some with you if you asked, enjoying the giggling and frantic running away as you both waited for it to go off
•If you didn’t like fireworks, she would just keep you inside and try to take your mind off of them!
•She’d definitely play music in the background while laughing and talking to you
•As the two of you went to bed that night, she held you close to her, a caring smile on her face as she squeezed you tightly
•“I love you, S/o. I really had fun with you today!”
•You only responded in a content hum, and that was enough for her
Sakura Ogami
•As soon as you woke up that morning, Sakura told you happy 4th of July
•She was really happy to see fireworks with you, believe it or not
•It was something nice, being able to be in the presence of a person she loved while watching something so beautiful and tranquil in the night sky
•She would hold you close as they went off, a small smile on her face as she stroked your hair
•The fireworks exploded in the black sky, lighting it with a beautiful set of colors
•She would also like lighting them!
•It was fun to be able to do it and have the real experience of being the one causing the colorful explosions
•You can light some, but if you’re scared to, she can light them all, no problem!
•However, if you didn’t like fireworks, Sakura wouldn’t mind
•She would offer to work out with you, subtly putting on some music to mask the loud cracks of the fireworks
•She would hate for you to be scared on such a special occasion
•She would also make things with you, for sure!
•Small cupcakes or cookies decorated with fourth of july colors was always fun to make
•Besides, she got to spend time with you. What more could she want?
•That night when you two got into bed, you leaned your head on her shoulder, and she chuckled
•“Thank you for spending 4th of July with me, S/o. I hope you had fun.”
•By your happy giggle, she was more than aware that you did!
Celestia Ludenburg
•4th of July? Yes, it was quite fun, wasn’t it?
•Celeste wouldn’t take the initiative to ask you to do anything, but if you asked to go watch fireworks with her, well, she certainly wouldn’t decline
•You two sat on some grass and gazed up at the sky, watching the fireworks pop and explode
•She would point out a color she liked, or point out some she thought you would like, just in case you didn’t see it well enough
•She would be more than happy to light them with you, as well
•Celeste could never fight back the smile on her face when she saw you gasp and your eyes light up at a firework you two lit
•She was one of the people who made you feel that happy, and she was content with that
•If you didn’t want to be around fireworks, that was definitely fine with her as well
•After some light-hearted teasing, she would make you two some properly made tea, and you two could sit in a room with the TV playing a gentle show in the background
•Celeste would adore it if she could make things with you
•It didn’t matter to her, but she would definitely like to be over the top, making a whole layered cake with fourth of July colors and white frosting
•When you two went to sleep that night, she laid down on the other side of the bed, but wouldn’t protest if you went over to stay close to her
•She would stroke your hair, the realization dawning upon her that you really were hers, she really loved someone and they really loved her back
•“I had fun, S/o,” She would tell you in her usual accent, calmer and quieter now.
•“I had fun too,” You responded with a smile.
•That was all she wanted.
Sayaka Maizono
•Sayaka adored fireworks!
•They were so beautiful, and she watched them every year on the fourth of July
•But being able to watch them with a significant other? She was so excited! Ecstatic, even! This would be so much fun
•She was smiling so widely the entire time, pointing out especially pretty colors
•“Look S/o! I know, that one was kind of loud, but it was such a beautiful color!”
•Lighting them off herself would be a whole other world for her
•She would be more than happy to, and laugh everytime it would go off and shine in the dark nighttime, almost reflecting the stars
•Fireworks were fun to watch, sure, but they were even more fun to set off yourself!
•If you didn’t like fireworks, Sayaka wouldn’t watch them this year
•She’d simply sing to you, hopefully blocking out the loud noises
•She’d reassure you that everything would be fine
•That night, she’d probably reach out and hold your hand, humming you to sleep with a gentle tune before falling asleep herself, your hands touching
Kyoko Kirigiri
•Kyoko was rather calm about the day, however did go and watch fireworks with you
•She found your excitement quite adorable, and she just loved to see you so happy
•She would allow you to lean on your shoulder as you watched them, draping an arm around you
•She would light fireworks with you! However, she would keep her gloves on
•Lighting the fireworks with the person she loved was so much fun, really, even if she couldn’t express it well
•If you didn’t like fireworks, she was more than okay with holding you close and watching movies, preferably crime or detective themed ones
•Maybe on a smaller note, she would like drawing small little doodles with you
•For instance, drawing small fireworks, or putting happy fourth of july in block letters
•It’s just endearing and fun to her, when she does it with you
•As a whole? She really enjoyed spending time with you, and would not hesitate to do it again
Mukuro Ikusaba
•Fourth of July was something she never really celebrated until she met you.
•You two definitely went to watch fireworks if you wanted!
•Mukuro is amazed by the fireworks that she sees, and she’s more than happy to see them with you
•She’d lace her fingers with yours, squeezing tightly onto your hand as you two gazed up at the fireworks
•If she got the pleasure of being about to light one, she would be more than happy to do so!
•It’s honestly really pure, because she’s trying to act nonchalant about it, but she really is excited. She can’t hide the way her eyes shone and the small smile formed on her face
•However, if fireworks were something you tended to stay away from, she would insist that it was okay and you guys could stay inside
•You two would also make cookies!
•It would be fun and cool to do
•With the 4th of July colors, you two might write each others name on the cookies and draw little hearts on them
•It might be sweet and lovey-dovey, but mukuro absolutely adored that, even if she wouldn’t admit it
•She would give you ear plugs if necessary, or play soft rain noises to block out the sound of fireworks
•To end the day, she would move over and pull you close into her chest, her strong arms wrapped around you
•She didn’t say anything, but neither of you really had to
•Her slow and even breaths lulled you to sleep after such a long day
Junko Enoshima
•To be honest, Junko probably woke you up that morning by exploding loud fireworks in the yard at 5:00AM
•The neighbors complained, but luckily nothing happened
•Whenever you two finally went out to go see fireworks, you gazed up at the sky
•Junko was laughing, making occasional vulgar comments while holding onto your hand
•She commented on how pretty is was, though
•“Not prettier than me, though, babe! I’m worth sixty packages of these fireworks!”
•If you guys ever got the chance to light fireworks, Junko would probably stand close to the lit firework, or not be careful with the fire used to light it, so you would have to light all of the fireworks
•She’ll complain about not being able to feel the despair of getting hurt, but you insisted she was not going to the hospital for major burns on the fourth of July
•If you were scared of fireworks, she would definitely tease you about it and gush about the despair it would bring you to be forced to see them
•You would have to say a pretty firm and direct, ‘No’ before she finally agreed to do something else
•She’d make snacks with you if you insisted!
•Decorating cookies could be fun, anyways
•She dropped so many eggs and got icing everywhere, along with almost burning the house down
•But, it brought her despair, cue you panicking for both of your safety
•Also— her loud voice probably blocked out any fireworks, or was at least enough to distract you
•At the end of the day, she would let you cuddle close to her chest
•“Jeez, if you wanted to touch my tits, just say so,” She snickered, before reaching down and giving you a light kiss on the head, “Love ya, dumbass. Hope you had fun.”
•Overall? It’s Junko. She likes despair. What did you expect?
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jay-jay-the-simp · 3 years
Text
New Genshin OC voice-lines
Genshin voicelines
Name: Phoenix [REDACTED] - Prideful Sin
Origin: Another world (Earth)  
Affiliations: Knight of Favonius
Power: Miasma emission/Teleportation
Weapon: Claymore
Star name: Sabik Orion (Not real)
Birth day: 30/11
-Elemental Skill (Oźy Pit: Acidic Feeling): Because I’m not smart in writing, Phoenix basically just makes orange/Purple acid appear from the ground, and infused with Dendro will cause “Burn”.
-Elemental Burst (Scarlet’s Will: A’tellifs Silence): Again, I’m not smart so what happens is that Phoenix will make a circle under the target, which will turn into a portal, making other portal inside the circle, teleporting the target everywhere whilst Phoenix teleports along with it and attacks it.
Role: Main DPS
Good: CRIT DMG, CRIT RATE, ATK, Movement SPD
Decent: CD,
Bad: DEF, HP, ER, EM
Constellations:
• Tint of Evil: Increases Oźy Pit: Acidic Feeling by 10%
• Brooding Silence: Every time teammate dies, Oźy Pit: Acidic Feeling will decrease by 30%
• Red Illness: Scarlets Will: A’tellifs Silence increases by 20%, but decreases 500 health every second.
• Lizards Wrath: Oźy Pit: Acidic Feeling Will increases by 10s.
• A’tellifs Ring: Scarlets Will: A’tellifs Silence becomes more powerful with Dendro bursts.
• Kings Cruelty: Any other character gets they’re healthy decreases so Phoenix’s health will increase.
———————————————————————————————————————
-Hello: Heya! I’m Phoenix and I am also from another world it’s nice to meet you!
-Good Morning: *Yawns* Good Morning Albe- Oh, it’s you, sorry thought you were someone else.
-Good afternoon: I’m starving! Let’s go before I start eating humans.
-Good evening: Can we have snack time? Please, please, please!
-Good night: Night time… It gives me memories of my home world, not good ones… But need’nt bother because I need to go to sleep and you do too, I’ll talk to you in the morning.
-When it rains: *Achoo* Even being the 6th son of one of the most powerful beings out there, my immune system is still so very weak, ugh…
-When is windy: Is Venti drunk again…?
-When there’s a thunderstorm: Is the Electro Archon mad at us or is Ei still gaining time to think about redemption.
-When it snows: As a person born  and raised in a laboratory, snow isn’t very common, but I’ve been in DragonSpine way too many times to know what it looks like.
-Chat (divinity): I do indeed have god blood running through my veins, but that doesn’t mean I am god. My mother was human and my father, well, my father will never be one, so I’m more of a Demigod.
-Chat (divinity) ll: Being seen as a Divine Being by others isn’t much of a choice, unless of course, you want it to be. But I have never wanted to be known as the 6th “Scarlet Child” or “Pride”, it’s a bad title once you know who my father is or what it means.
-Chat the (Fatui): All I know is to kill them once they enter my prephiral vision. But I must say that they are very annoying.
-About Albedo: He’s the one who accidentally teleported me here and also the one who takes care of me, usually people think he’s my father, but honestly, he’s just my teacher. Unfortunately anything I do or say will get him in trouble, so I can’t ever leave anywhere without him.
-About Sucrose: She’s super nice but seems to analyze me a lot, she helps me with my homework and usually helps me when Albedo can’t. I guess I am a bit confused on why she wants to create a different world, although I know how to do it, it’s better if she didn’t, since it’d have to kill her in the process.
-About Kaeya: The most annoying and flirtatious guy I’ve ever seen, ugh, he sucks! Kaeya always makes me do HIS work and it’s so annoying! I swear to 343 I’m gonna kill him someday!
-About Diluc: Master Diluc? He’s okay I guess, I don’t really wanna intrude his personal space, but I am very curious on why he acts all sad…
-About Eula: She is one of the most amazing people in Teyvat! She’s good at basically everything and she’s very nice! She dances ballet with me and teaches me how to use the Claymore! I don’t get why people don’t like her, probably jealousy.
-About Jean and Barbara: They are super nice! Although I haven’t “formally” met Jean before, I can tell she’s a very hardworking person! Barbara is too, but I do feel bad that they’re always working and never resting…
-About Mona: An astrologist who couldn’t tell me anything about my family… Figured. But I honestly like her a lot for not taking the advantage of astrology and making money, even if she’s in need of it.
-About Venti: Barbatos! Such a responsible god to the point I need to drag him out of the tavern when he’s blackout drunk… Ugh, whatever.
-About Chongyun and Xingqiu: Chogyun is quite scared of me, this may be news to you but I wasn’t born human, in fact, I was born as a demon whose bigger than Azhdaha and Osial, this is only my 3rd human form, so of course my aura carries demon aura, Chongyun gets quite scared around me. Xingqiu on the other hand, he likes flirting with me since we’re both the same age, but it’s just friend flirting since we’re all only friends.
-About Xiao: He doesn’t trust me at all, but because of Aether and Ganyu, he can’t do anything. But in his eyes, I’m only a demon who needs to be executed, nothing else…
-About Ganyu: She’s pretty cool! But whenever I’m in Liyue, Ganyu starts taking care of me as if I’m her child, although it’s nice… I feel bad for taking up the time she could’ve used to rest….
-About Zhongli: Heh, names the worlds currency after himself, a bit cocky don’t you think? Honestly, he doesn’t do any effort to hide his identity.
-About Kazuha: Sometimes brings me along boat rides, sometimes doesn’t. Very kinds but so very serious. He’s a mix, but a good one. Sometimes he makes me wish I were 18, but I should stop fanboying before the wind tells him about this.
-About Sara: Dedicated to her job, independent, goes by the rules. A good person honestly.
-About Ei: An archon who wants, or wanted to keep her land equal as it always was. She doesn’t understand how humans work, but she’s getting the hang of it.
-About Ryuuko: A smart and funny person, she thinks that just because I’m shorter than her, she can pat my head! Scounderous! She’s just like Dr.Clef, ugh….
-About Phoenix l: I kind of rebelled against my father…. Not really since I do still destroy worlds and take Pride in genocide, but he thinks I’m in another world, so I’m basically lying to him about Teyvat’s existence.
-About Phoenix ll: People are always surprised when they see my real form, it’s as if I’m not the same demon, of course I am! This is my real personality.
-About Phoenix lII: I mock my siblings a lot without you even knowing! They can tell when they’re being mocked and it’s honestly so hilarious hearing them complain!
-Phoenix’s hobbies: Usually I just do Alchemy and train with Eula but I also go adventuring with Bennet or cook with Xiangling. Hm? Oh, well, I guess fighting Osial with you, the adepti and the Qixing was fun, but it’s not a hobbie.
-Phoenix troubles: I hate hate hate Dendro slimes! All of them are so annoying! Every time I am getting materials for Sucrose or Albedo, they always pop up and scare me! I wish they all disappeared.
-Favorite Food: I love Noelles pancakes! They’re honestly the best and so tasty! I can melt just thinking about them! (*starts actually melting* No wait stop pls-)
-Least favorite food: Wolfhook, it’s so salty… I don’t know why people like it, bleh! It’s only good for healing.
-Birthday: What’s a… Birthday? Oh wait, I remember celebrating this day with Diona once! Ahem, I congratulate you for living another day to come back to the date of which your mother screaming in pain, happy birth.
-Feelings about Ascension (intro): I feel a bit weird… But stronger!
-Feelings about Ascension (building up): How does this work??? Why is Ryuuko saying my soul ate Ruin Guard parts? Ahhhhhh help!
-Feelings about Ascension (climax): I feel so tingly…
-Feelings about Ascension (conclusion): I’m so powerful now! I can definitely defeat my brother now!
-Elemental Skill: Acidic Waves! Ha! Feel the Acid!
-Elemental Burst: Feel the Scarlet Kings Pride! Death Upon You! A Sin not to be Forgiven!
-Sprint (start): Lets go! I’m not fit enough for this!
-Sprint (end): *pant* All I can feel is pain… *pant
-Wing glider: Yahoo! *giggles* I’ve only had fun like this before the Melting Sun 001 incident!
-Jumping: Oop!
-Plunging attack: Dizzy….
-Charged attack: Spin spin spin! The world is spinning!
-Low HP: Healer please! Hurts a lot! *sniffling*
-Light hit taken: That’s it? / Haha! / Shouldve trained more!
-Heavy hit taken: A-agh! / You’re good / You trained for a long time, haven’t you?
-Death: The King will… Rise / Impossible.. / So.. Dark… / Congratulations, you’ve killed the 6th child/ Seems like you… won
-Light attack: Heh! / Hmph!
-Decent attack: Egh
-Heavy attack: Weakling / *laughing*
-Defeating enemies: Should’ve kept your mouth shut / This is what happens when duel a demigod / I’ve won
-Joining party: Let’s-a go! Hello new friends! *Gasp* So many experiences!
-Chest: All that for an empty chest? So many materials! Can I take them?
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ripley95 · 3 years
Text
A Cursed Blessing
Read on AO3
Rating: T
Word Count: ~1200
Content warnings: Referenced/implied major character death
Synopsis: Kaidan learns to live after Shepard chooses synthesis.
Notes: This is a gift for @ljandersen who gave me the idea to write this a long time ago.
-
It covers the apples he picks up from the market. It glistens off of the faces of smiling civilians still thriving on the high of survival after the war. He even sees it in the mirror when he wakes. He sees it on his fingers as he rubs his eyes, heavy from nights without sleep. It's inescapable, this new green sheen to everything. He thinks new because he'll never be used to it, but in truth, it's been months. It was now normal. A new way of being. Permanent. He can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse. Maybe it's both.
Chakwas tried to explain it to him. Organics now had DNA interlaced with tech, and tech had traces of DNA. She goes on about how generations down the road won't even be able to determine a difference between organics and synthetics. Something like that, anyway. He can't bring himself to listen. Maybe he will someday when it's not so raw, but not now. All he knows is that the Crucible had burst in an explosion of green. The moment they had crashed the Normandy on that planet and found themselves stranded, they were all covered in it. Even EDI. Even the leaves on the trees. It's all he really needs to know.
He looks up at the sky every morning, and there are hues of green even afflicting the Reapers. They're still here. It's then that he knows it's a curse. They should be gone. Destroyed. But instead, they're still here. He takes a sip of his coffee and reminds himself that they're helping now. He can see them repairing the Citadel tirelessly. He hears of them fixing the relays. Hackett's even briefed him on how they've begun to share their well of knowledge of civilizations that came before their own. It's all thanks to them that their future is projected to propel forward in previously unthinkable ways. He feels calm at the thought of it all briefly and acknowledges that things aren't how they used to be. He and the Reapers aren't so different anymore. But he can't forget the past. He can't trust that they're not still capable of turning on them and committing genocide. He knows that civilization wouldn't be nearly as put back together without their help, and he knows it's not so easy to be rid of them. He eases and grants them the benefit of the doubt that perhaps it's not entirely a curse, but he won't admit they're a blessing.
He sees the husks helping rebuild in droves. Once grotesque reanimations of humans, asari and turians with the sole purpose to harvest are now breathing and civilized and have lives of their own. They are no longer hordes meant to kill. They're functional and cooperative. He laments at the thought that his father could be among them. He doesn't know what to make of them, and he can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse.
He visits the refugee camps regularly. It's one of his assignments to ensure they're well supplied. The whole area emits a dull green glow. He sees all of the races coming together in celebration. They've built a playground since the last time he was here. There's a group of them planting trees and another cooking enough food for the whole settlement. He even gets an invitation to join them in their festivities. He accepts. The laughter of children's voices fills his ears. Stories get passed around the table with ease. There's camaraderie and friends and family. He smiles at the thought. People have come together, and they get to live. They're happy. It's why he joined the Alliance. Why he fought in the war. This. This is what he puts his life on the line for with every mission. It's in these moments he knows it's a blessing.
He turns in the middle of the night and moves his arm to envelope a body that isn't there. His fingers brush the empty pillow. He opens his eyes to see his arm, covered in green. He feels tears begin to form. He shuts his eyes tight and presses his fingers gently against his eyelids, and still sees green. Everything's green. He curses it and wants to scream. Just one night, he doesn't want the reminder. He clings the empty pillow tightly to his chest and imagines how he used to brush her hair out of her face as she slept. He remembers that this green sheen was because of her. The thought of it quiets his breath. He trusts in her decision. It was an end to the war, even if it wasn't how they'd planned it. He still doesn't know what happened up there, but he knows he would have done anything to stop the war. He knows he may very well have done the exact same thing as Shepard had their positions been reversed. It's a small comfort. He reminds himself that they'd won, and the war is over, and that's all that should matter. He willfully reaffirms that this is a blessing as much as it feels like a curse. He bunches the pillow up closer to his face and is saddened that it no longer smells like her. It hasn't for quite some time now. Eventually, he finds fitful sleep.
He walks down the street, and the green is everywhere. It adorns the faces of everyone he walks past. He can't help but think that Shepard will never get to experience this green glow. He thinks of how he'll never get to intertwine their green fingers as he shows her around Vancouver. He makes his way to the ocean where his old apartment used to be. He dreamed of showing this view to her one day. Even the ocean is green now, thanks to the seaweed and fish. He turns to his side and looks down to where their hands would have joined and knows of Shepard's absence. He knows it all too well at this point. He closes his eyes and looks up towards the sun. The green still shines through his eyelids. He hears birds chirping, the wind rustling through the leaves. He hears the waves crash against the sand. He hears people talking. He hears a city bustling with life. He opens his eyes and sees green everywhere and lets it really sink in this time, that this was Shepard's choice. All of these people get to live. It's what she wanted. She would be happy to know of this success. He finally realises he's been seeing it wrong this whole time. He's been too focused on Shepard's absence that he hasn't noticed her presence. He turns his head and sees the green glow in the trees. He sees the green in the ocean and the green on people's faces. He smiles at the thought of it solemnly because Shepard is everywhere. He's beginning to understand that things can coexist. Perhaps it is both a blessing and a curse, but at least for today, it's a blessing.
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dog-day-morning · 3 years
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The word of God tells us we shall suffer for the cause of Christ, he who seeks a greater reward must attain a greater faith. Unto whom much is given that much more is required. You wanna eat that whole caramel cake, you crave that sweet tea, you pursue that woman in a nightclub hoping to get her in a compromised position, face down tail up because face it, we're not willing to bow down to the will of God, but we’re so happy, and ready to give in to that round mound of doo doo brown. The 3 Hebrew boys Meshach, Shadrach, and Abednego went into the fiery furnace defying Nebuchadnezzar's declaration to worship him. These men had the inspiration, strength, and courage to say, even if He doesn't deliver us, we know that He can. That kind of faith is called perfected faith. We can be lazy because we refuse to work with what God gave us before the day of calamity comes to devour us. Tribulation is kicking into high gear, and many of God’s people are none the wiser. There are people who were working 3 jobs before, and after this pandemic became a global concern who know what is on the horizon. You don't need an Issachar spirit to discern the times; read the Bible. He also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you say at once, ‘A shower is coming.’ And so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat,’ and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time? The gov't has pulled back on unemployment benefits forcing many to find a job. The 2 righteous servants in the parable of the 3 servants increased the wealth of their employer who trusted 3 men with different amounts of talents [money], and the 1 who didn't work diligently for his master inherited weeping, and gnashing of teeth. God invested in us, and He expected a greater return from this major investment. Jesus was the greatest financial venture ever made. The Father placed His faith in His Son who in turn gave Him many more sons that walk amongst us waiting for the Day of Judgment. This investment which supersedes all, but are intertwined will never decrease, and forever increase. The 144,000 isn't a spiritually inspired interpretation based on mine, and Mima getting the Holy Ghost or having an encounter with the Holy Spirit to speak in tongues. Sit down grandma, your Depends are leaking brown stuff that reeks of formaldehyde, and raw chitlins. God is looking for a righteous Nation to worship Him not themselves. These men, and boys who represent the 12 tribes of Israel have never been defiled by women, and hopefully not by men either. You lucky mother You can take the word literally or as a misinterpretation. Those who don't believe in the written word who believe that God's word isn't infallible aren't all to blame for this heresy. Those who originally interpreted the King James Bible added to, and took from are suffering for a misleading interpretation. The prophetic which God didn't let man corrupt altogether has pretty much played out verbatim. We may be dying to a world that is trying to kill our faith that God has no intention of doing until He finds His true worshippers, and He’ll never destroy one's faith in Him. Winter is coming and you and I must be prepared. We must live like today is our last without being caught up in fear. I'm suffering from a form of laziness called jackass. God shall supply all your needs, but faith without works is dead. The ant has the intuition to work throughout the Summer knowing that Winter is coming. A lot of these drones won't live to see the finished product. Ant mounds look like the Pyramids of Giza that secure the Queen, but where is the King? They serve the one who gives life that sustains the colony, she is their goddess, but what happens if the Queen dies? There's more than one Queen serving the colony who can breed an entire colony independent of one other. fulfilling their role while working together in unison with the others who all serve a greater purpose. This
is a major element that drives the Kingdome of heaven. Christ is just like His Father In the Kingdome that includes the Holy Spirit which they will pour upon all flesh again soon. There are no cowards or sinners in the Kingdome. The angels are not as drones, they are blessed warriors.
Revelation 21:8
8 But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.
1 Corinthians 6:8-10
8 Nay, ye do wrong, and defraud, and that your brethren.
9 Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind,
10 Nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.
Alkebulan we need to wake up and get right. Black American's of the tribes of Judah, Gad, Reuben, and Issachar you need to aim at my forehead, and scatter my scatter brained grey matter all over the pavement. When Joe Biden told a radio podcaster if you don't vote for me you're not Black, he must be color blind. This vaccine that suspiciously looks like the Mark of Whodunnit. They can plant a microchip in your arm that can track your every move, financial transaction, and possibly your dreams while you sleep. Some Walmart stores are refusing to take cash when you check out; they only take debit, and credit cards. These are signs that we’re living in the End Times. The Last Days. I'm looking at this as a sign to get the hell outta this city, and decompose. What in God's name am I afraid of? Jesus took a beat down like a man on a mission.. You're not weak or simping if you gave your life for a people you fed, healed, gave sight to, preached to, taught them a new way to live, pray, love, told them about a Kingdome greater than Jerusalem, and you didn't kill anybody in the process knowing what they were going to do to your physical body in an almost retarded like bid to destroy their salvation. I've done none of that; my bad. Stop looking for men, especially zaddy to deliver us. “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” Some of us foolheartedly called Bill Clinton the first Black president when he's not, never can, or will be to me in any sense, Barack wasn't either. Thomas Jefferson, the third elected president, who served two terms between 1801 and 1809 was described as the “son of a half-breed Indian squaw (Black) and a Virginia mulatto father (Black).” Abraham Lincoln, the nation’s 16th president, served between 1861, and 1865. Lincoln had very dark skin, and coarse hair and his mother allegedly came from an Ethiopian tribe. His heritage fueled so much controversy that Lincoln was nicknamed “Abraham Africanus the First” by his presidential opponents and cartoons were drawn depicting him as a Negro. Warren Harding, Calvin Coolidge, Dwight David Eisenhower, and the scourge of the South Andrew Jackson were all n**gahs. I’ll see you come Hanukkah you self-hating black, Uncle Ruckus’s. I don't celebrate Thanksgiving, why should I be overjoyed about the genocide, and enslavement of God's people? Christmas is what it is. Hopefully you will celebrate this holiday season together fulfilling God's prophetic word. I can't unless you kill me. The Christmas holiday is as pagan as Joel Osteen is at scamming. David Duke, you might wanna go to ancestry.com, and take a DNA test. You might be 30% Swahili. By the looks of those big, gorilla nostrals you had before that rhinoplasty. You, and Bull Connor may be related to Idi Amin. Your biggest shame is your greatest blessing. Personally you can kiss the skid marks in the middle of my skid marks after I take a fresh dump. Conservative, political pundits, and wannabes whose names I won't mention, but one in particular who looks like he smoked 23 blunts in 15min. with no filter. Please keep him in California, and let him drown with his zaddy, and pancaked tail, bowed hipped women. Use your lips as a floatation device dude. These people are ashamed of the God who has blessed many, and plenty. These people suffer, hopefully not always, from the white savior or white zaddy complex. The truth isn't in any of them, that's why they're so adept at lying when making bold-faced statements before the public that opposes their previous opinion like people don’t have YouTube or google. I’ll Bing a factoid or Yahoo that mother to get the truth I may even pay for it, gimme a dollar. My inability to walk amongst men as a man has stagnated my propensity to live That's BS, my Apostle said something this past Sunday that's stuck on my forehead. YOU'RE LAZY!!! I am what I am, a pain in the rear end. This has gone on way too long. Sometimes
I feel as though God wants me to kill myself because the PO PO won’t. I would feel better if my natural family would stab me in the neck, not my back, with a piece of diseased, pork, spare rib from a boar hog, and let me die from a rare form of trichinosis. The people have spoken while I’m playing Jay, and Silent Bob. Father, get me outta here. Elohim, 9/16/2021
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thevictorianghost · 3 years
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The ATLA Comics and the Character Assassination of Zuko’s, Aang’s and Katara’s character arcs (in one page!)
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Thank you to Emma/jerkbendinq on Twitter for providing me this image!
Look. I knew the ATLA comics were bad. I’d heard, per example, about what they’d done to the Southern Water Tribe. And, especially, the glorification of industrialization in a world where bending exists, which leads to Northern Water Tribe imperalism and colonization. Others have talked about this in depth and have the tools to talk about these topics.
But THIS! THIS I want to talk about!
Let’s start with this. I know nothing about the context of this scene. But I don’t need context. Because there is SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE. 
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But we do, John Mulaney.
Oooooh, but we do. 
I have too much time on my hands.
I felt so viscerally pissed when I read this that I decided to write this meta. 
So here we go.
Let’s analyze this. Line by line.
Zuko: If you ever see me turning into my father, I want you to... I want you to end me.
Aang: What?!
Up ‘till now, not that bad. Aang’s character’s integrity is kept intact for the moment. Remember the pacifistic monk who didn’t want to kill Ozai? I think he’s here in this reaction. 
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Aang: No, I'm not gonna end it like this.
All right. 
But the emphasis on the words end me make me really uncomfortable. This doesn’t feel like Zuko talking. Somehow, these words feel like they could fit more coming out of Azula’s mouth than anyone else’s. 
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Azula: You mean it’s not obvious yet? I’m about to celebrate becoming an only child!
But we’ve barely started.
Let’s continue to the next panel.
Zuko: Even now, after everything that’s happened, my family’s legacy is still a part of me.
I’M SORRY??!? 
Is this somehow a bastardized version of this scene from The Avatar and the Firelord??!?
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Iroh: Because understanding the struggle between your two great-grandfathers can help you better understand the battle within yourself. Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko. It is your nature, your legacy. But, there is a bright side. What happened generations ago can be resolved now, by you. Because of your legacy, you alone can cleanse the sins of our family and the Fire Nation. Born in you, along with all the strife, is the power to restore balance to the world.
(I don’t particularly like this dichotomy either. Good and evil aren’t battling within Zuko. It’s his struggle between doing the righ thing and doing the wrong thing that is. But whatever. I’ll let THAT slide.)
What happened to the “bright side” in the comics?? What happened to the power Zuko has within himself to restore balance to the world?? His entire character growth somehow doesn’t matter anymore because of his father’s and his forefathers’ legacies? The “good” in him doesn’t matter anymore?? 
What happened to THIS scene?!
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Katara: You mean, after all Roku and Sozin went through together, even after Roku showed him mercy, Sozin betrayed him like that‌?
Toph: It's like these people are born bad.
Aang: No, that's wrong. I don't think that was the point of what Roku showed me at all.
Sokka: Then what was the point?
Aang: Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone's capable of great good and great evil. Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance. 
Or this?!
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Zuko: For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me, to accept me. I thought it was my honor I wanted, but really, I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn. How could you possibly justify a duel with a child?
Ozai: It was to teach you respect!
Zuko: It was cruel! And it was wrong.
Ozai: Then you have learned nothing.
Zuko: No, I've learned everything! And I've had to learn it on my own! Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilization in history. And somehow, the War was our way of sharing our greatness with the rest of the world. What an amazing lie that was. The people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don't see our greatness. They hate us! And we deserve it!  We've created an era of fear in the world. And if we don't want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness.
What happened to Zuko’s stand against Ozai during the Day of Black Sun?? What happened to Zuko’s entire character arc from Book 2 onwards?? Suddenly, because he has his father’s blood in his veins, he’s doomed to carry his legacy? What happened to Zuko creating his OWN destiny, to change the world??
Sigh.
This wasn’t the most insulting line in that entire paragraph, though. 
THIS WAS.
Zuko: That’s why it’s my duty to heal the scars that the Fire Nation has left on the world.
I BEG YOUR PARDON?!?
NOTICE THE EMPHASIS I PUT ON THE WORD SCARS?!?
They keep comparing Ozai with Zuko THIS ENTIRE TIME. He’s terrified of failing the Fire Nation. He’s terrified of failing the world. He’s terrified of failing Aang and the Four Nations.
Zuko is terrified of becoming his genocidal abusive father.
AND SUDDENLY THEY BRING UP SCARS??!?
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SCARS??
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FUCKING SCARS???!?
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(But we’ll come back to Katara.)
Let’s keep going or I’ll combust on the spot.
Zuko: But the Fire Lord’s throne comes with a lot of pressures.
Two things about this line.
First of all. It... bothers me that Zuko uses the term “the Fire Lord’s throne” instead of “my throne”. It’s like he still hasn’t accepted he’s the Fire Lord. Zuko’s throne doesn’t feel like it belongs to an individual who is allowed choices in this scene. It’s like he believes he’s all the Fire Lords who were his predecessors. And knowing that he thinks he carries his family’s legacy like a weight on his shoulders... that doesn’t bode well.
And second of all. Where is Iroh in all of this? What happened to Iroh’s mentorship? His kind words to remind Zuko that he can rake control of his own destiny? Is he still in Ba Sing Se? Taking care of the Jasmine Dragon? Has he completely left Zuko alone, enough so that the only person he can ever confide in is Aang, who has Avatar duties to fill?
What happened to this?
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Iroh: You know Prince Zuko, destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out. But if you keep an open mind, and an open heart, I promise you will find your own destiny someday.
Or this??
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Iroh: I was never angry with you. I was sad because I was afraid you lost your way. And you did it by yourself.  And I am so happy you found your way here.
(Can anyone give Zuko a hug?? Please??)
Or even THIS??
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Iroh: No. Someone new must take the throne. An idealist with a pure heart  and unquestionable honor. It has to be you, Prince Zuko.
Zuko: Unquestionable honor? But I've made so many mistakes.
Iroh: Yes, you have. You've struggled; you've suffered, but you have always followed your own path. You restored your own honor, and only you can restore the honor of the Fire Nation.
Oof. Okay. Let’s keep going.
Zuko: And if I’m being honest with myself... I need a safety net. The world needs a safety net. That’s what I need you to be, Aang. The safety net.
Again. Two things about this line.
What does Zuko mean when he says “the world needs a safety net”? What does he think ending him will accomplish for the world? Zuko’s DEATH could leave an opening for Ozai to take the throne! Because again, Aang has refused to kill Ozai in cold blood! As Iroh has said MULTIPLE TIMES by now and as Zuko has said himself, HE CAN RESTORE BALANCE TO THE WORLD TOO. It doesn’t all revolve around Aang. 
Speaking of Aang, here’s the second thing. Of course, Aang is the Avatar. But he himself alone couldn’t end the war during Sozin’s Comet. Zuko and Katara, Suki and Sokka and Toph, and the Order of the White Lotus all participated. Why should Aang be the only one to take this godawful decision? Why??
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What happened to cooperation?? What happened to the Four Nations working together to end the Hundred Year War?? 
On to the next line.
Aang: Zuko, you're not your dad! And you're my friend! How can you expect me--"
One more time. Two things about this scene.
First of all, I’m going to be sarcastic, here. Forgive me, but I have to. 
Thank you, Aang, for pointing out that Zuko is NOT his father and that YES, you ARE his friend. 
Let’s go back to Aang’s speech at the end of the Avatar and the Fire Lord.
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Aang: And I also think it was about friendships.
Toph: Do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?
Aang: I don't see why not.
Sokka: Well, scientifically speaking, there's no way to prove that...
Katara: Oh, Sokka, just hold hands.
If friendships can last more than one lifetime... why do you have to remind Zuko that you’re his friend, Aang? At least you’re not considering downright killing him and you don’t want to do this, you know!
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Does that mean that if he wasn’t your friend and that if he was like Ozai, you’d kill him, though? Is that what you’re trying to say? Because the LAST time you were confronted with the idea of killing someone who WAS LIKE Ozai, oh no wait, who WAS Ozai, you said this!
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Aang: This isn't a joke, Sokka! None of you understand the position I'm in.
Katara: Aang, we do understand. It's just ...
Aang: Just what, Katara? What?
Katara: We're trying to help!
Aang: Then, when you figure out a way for me to beat the Fire Lord without taking his life, I'd love to hear it!
What happened to that? 
Hm?
Next line. Once again.
Zuko: As your friend, I'm asking you -- if you ever see me go bad, end me. Promise me, Aang.
Again with these characters having to remind each other that they’re friends! Do you stop being friends while travelling the world and have to remind each other that you’re friends once you meet again? Is that it? (/s)
But that’s not what’s bothering me about this line.
What has Katara said since the beginning of this page?
Absolutely. Nothing.
And this line simply states that Aang is Zuko’s friend. But what about Katara? Are they still friends? They don’t interact much. She barely looks at him this entire page. They don’t talk. This whole scene is about Zuko and Aang. What is Katara doing here? Why is she here?
Oh. Wait.
The ONLY THING Katara does in this entire page...
When Aang looks at her, wondering what to do...
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SHE NODS.
SHE. NODS.
She gives Aang the push in the right direction to... wait for it...
MURDER ZUKO WITH HIS BARE HANDS!
Is this supposed to be a callback to THIS scene??
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Katara: You might have everyone else here buying your ... transformation, but you and I both know you've struggled with doing the right thing in the past. So let me tell you something, right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won't have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I'll make sure your destiny ends... right then and there. Permanently.
Then what happened to this??
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Or this???
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Katara: I didn't forgive him. I'll never forgive him. But I am ready to forgive you.
Not only is it that KATARA AGREES TO MURDER ZUKO, she does it while being ENTIRELY SILENT. She never talks. She only nods. Katara has been reduced to become Aang’s silent advisor. 
What happened to THIS girl??!
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Katara: I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me!
Or THIS girl?
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Zuko: Katara! How would you like to help me put Azula in her place?
Katara: It would be my pleasure.
Or THIS girl?
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Katara: ZUKO!
THIS GIRL?
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THIS GIRL??!?
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(*Bangs head against keyboard*)
And on to the final line. The nail in the coffin.
Aang: ... Fine. I promise.
There we are. He’s accepted it. He’s going to do it if he has to. He’s promised, right? Aang just... gives in. At least Aang doesn’t look thrilled at the idea of doing this. Which isn’t what I can say about Katara. Who looks damn ready to end Zuko right now if that’s necessary. Not that she says anything. 
But the simple fact that they are, THE THREE OF THEM, considering this SUICIDE PACT... 
...is infuriating.
Then we end with a view of the starry night sky as fireworks come to life.
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Yeah, right. Sure. Talk about reading the room here, folks.
So let me recap ALL OF THIS.
Zuko is a character who has been abused for years by his father, burned at the age of thirteen and sent on a quest to find the Avatar. During the show, he learns that he doesn’t have to obey his father, that he can make his own choices and create his own destiny and legacy. He’ll be the new Fire Lord who will usher the Fire Nation in an era of peace, helped by Iroh and his friends.
Aang is a pacifist who refuses to kill Ozai, Zuko’s aforementioned abusive and genocidal father. Killing is not the answer for him; he desperately wants to find a way out, enough so that he gets into a fight with his friends about the mere idea of killing Ozai. He values his friends dearly and learns that the world doesn’t only rely on himself, that he has friends he can count upon. 
Katara is a warrior girl who doesn’t back down from a fight. After many trials and trebulations, after being betrayed by Zuko and forgiving him in the end, she has become one of Zuko’s closest friends and allies, especially in their fight against Azula. She’s not afraid to voice her opinions and will never turn her back on people who need her.
But according to the comics... none of that seems to be true!
Or didn’t we watch the same show?
What happened to all of that? What happened to these characters?
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I dunno.
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You tell me.
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Stay tuned! We’ll be right back after these messages
A Jedi: Fallen Order fanfic
1k words of angst as Cal and Cere try (and fail) to cope with the galaxy celebrating the genocide of their people. Happy Empire Day.
Read it here or under the cut!
Cal’s terrible, horrible, no good very bad day begins when Greez turns the news on in the morning.
That in itself isn't a terribly shocking occurrence. It was common for the crew of the Mantis to listen to the morning news broadcasts as they went about their various morning routines and then gathered for breakfast and caff in the common area. Cal’s smearing jam onto a slice of toasted bread, Cere’s stirring sugar into a mug of caff, and Greez is tidying, for no apparent reason. Merrin had taken BD-1 with her on a quick scouting trip to see if she could find any edible wild plants they could add to their ship’s store of provisions.
By all accounts, today should have been a normal day.
But Cal had forgotten the date. To be fair, he thinks Greez has as well.
“... Extermination was necessary for the formation of the Galactic Empire,” a news anchor recites. “We have here the security footage from Emperor Palpatine’s office, and we can see with our own eyes top members of the Jedi Council, including Mace Windu himself, attempting to assassinate the Emperor, who was serving as Chancellor of the former Republic at the time. As further proof of the Jedi’s deranged treason, here we see Padawan Zett Jukassa making a brazen attack on Senator Bail Organa. Fortunately, the would-be assassin was stopped by stalwart members of the 501st legion.”
Cal’s mouth goes dry. He had been hungry a moment before but now nausea churns in his stomach. Zett had been his friend. The pair of them were nigh inseparable until they were taken by masters and began training separately. The last time they had talked had been only a week before his master was killed.
Cere’s mug of caff drops from her hand and shatters on the floor.
“Jrik, what motivation could a Jedi Padawan have for attacking a Senator?”
The grainy camera footage vanishes and is replaced with two humans inside a sleek news studio, wearing crisp robes seated at a spotless table.
“Well, Assawle, once the Jedi revealed their real motivation for fighting in the Clone War, it becomes clear the entire order must have been deeply, deeply deluded by their lust for power. Evidently, they were far gone enough to brainwash their young initiates into supporting their goals. It’s impossible to tell for how long their organization had been planning this coup, but it’s very possible that it was their goal since the conception of their religion.”
“Religion? More like a cult, if you ask me.” The other anchor quips.
Jirk chuckles, and the sound of it makes Cal feel even sicker. “You got that right. Well, we can all agree we have our boys in white to thank for keeping our galaxy safe from the violence and tyranny of the Jedi. I know I sleep better at night knowing that they’re well and gone.”
“Well said, Jirk. And you know what I always say. A good Jedi is a dead Jedi.”
“Hey, that’s a good one! I’ll have to remember that. The parade here in the upper levels of Coruscant is expected to begin any minute now, so stay tuned, we’ll be back to report on the Empire Day festivities as they-”
“Well, that’s enough of that,” Greez almost shouts as he switches off the holo-screen. “Nothing interesting on this morning, no use burning the bulbs out if there’s nothing worth reporting. Don’t worry about the mug, Cere, we have plenty others.”
Any other day, Greez would absolutely want Cere and everyone else in the next 3 systems to worry about the mug. But today he busies himself with the broom and doesn’t comment on it again.
Cal reminds himself to breathe. He looks at Cere, who’s gone almost as pale as he is and hasn’t yet stopped staring at the screen.
“Cere?”
She doesn’t seem to hear him.
“Cere!” He moves to stand between her and where the news used to be, and that seems to get her attention. Her eyes snap to his, as if suddenly awakening from a dream.
“Sorry, Cal. Are you okay?”
He nods. “Are you?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He wants to call out her brazen lie for what it is, but doing so would make him a hypocrite, so he leaves their falsehoods hanging awkwardly in the air between them.
“I… Greez, let me help you with that.” She turns around suddenly and busies herself with fetching a damp rag to wipe up the caff that was spilled on the floor.
“No no, I said don’t worry about it. You just take it easy, Cere.”
As if sitting around would bring the Jedi back. He knows Greez means well, but Cal isn't in the mood to deal with their captain’s fussing, so he turns on his heel and strides back to his cramped quarters, notions of breakfast entirely forgotten.
Yes, today seems like an excellent day for staying in his room and shutting out the rest of the world.
He pulls his headphones over his ears and turns the volume of his music up as high as it will go. Prauf liked to warn him he was going to go deaf that way, but Cal doesn’t care, and thinking of Prauf only hurts more. So he closes his eyes and tries very hard not to think of Prauf, or Zett, or Caleb, or his Master. He doesn’t think about the men with matching faces who had been his friends once, who managed to destroy everyone and everything he loved in one fell swoop. He doesn’t think about Cere in the common room, who seemed determined to pretend that everything was just fine. He doesn't think about the billions of beings who thought he had been brainwashed by a fucking cult.
The music is hard and fast and he focuses on it until it consumes him completely. He lets his upper body rock with the rhythm and empties his mind until there’s nothing left in his consciousness but sound.
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3pirouette · 3 years
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Whoa!!!! 200 pages! I am proud of you. What about a thanksgiving prompt in the nazi-punching storyline you did? Im sorry i forgot the name. Between peggy whose not a native from america and steve who might even dislike Thanksgiving bc it celebrates genocide. Anyway this is up to you!!
Nazi-Punching story= Dissents Speak
So, once again, not what anyone wanted? Also, while I first published Dissents Speak, I feel like they potentially met back in the summer? The timeline of this is pretty vague, especially since all the social media stuff with Peter probably runs over several months.
Happy Thanksgiving. I’m so THANKFUL for you all.
~*~
Steve held the phone to his ear while he leaned against the cold brick, waiting as it rang.
The line clicked live, but all he could hear was muffled cursing. “Shitballs, just hang- Fuck!”
“Peg?” He asked, standing up straighter despite the fact that he was across the country and could do nothing to help her.
Her voice was muffled when it came through, “I dropped the phone, and the groceries, and my keys…” She sighed, the sound translating as a jumble of noise as she picked everything up and the jingle of keys as she opened her door.
“You can call me back later, you know,” he tried to keep from laughing.
“No, no,” her voice, tired and resigned, came through the phone stronger now. He figured she must have been inside, with her bags on her small counter. He could almost hear her flop on the couch through the phone. “I’m good now. Just tried to juggle too much at once.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Says the pot,” she laughed. “Not metaphorically, just, literally, too many things. I stopped at the store on the way home to get dinner for tomorrow.”
Steve started pacing, “You know what I’m going to say about that.”
“I do,” He heard her stand and shuffle, then what he thought might be the sounds of her putting away groceries, “And you know what I’m going to say.”
“I’ll be home tomorrow morning, you can come over.” Steve kicked at the gravel, feeling like he’d had this conversation more often than not with her over the last few days.
“And you know that if one reporter gets a hold a photo of you having Thanksgiving dinner with anyone outside of your household, like you’ve been talking about for weeks on every media outlet that will have you, you’re toast.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, “You’re in my bubble.” He knew it sounded lame.
“You know how silly that sounds right now, right? Half the country is in your bubble.”
Steve turned, waving to Clint who had come to get him from the alley way. They were traveling the northwest, dropping off more PPE and talking to anyone that would listen about being cautious for Thanksgiving. “Point taken.”
“Look, I’d love to see you. And you know and I know that we’re both in one another’s bubbles and that one meal, compared to all the snogging we’ve been doing, isn’t going to make a bit of difference.”
Steve laughed to himself, slowly moving out of the alley. “Call it snogging again.”
“Prat,” she teased back. “I’ll see you Friday, ok? There won’t be reporters out on Friday.”
~*~
Peggy reached out of her bed, smacking around the side table for the phone that was so rudely, but necessarily, waking her up. Without turning on her lights she stood, yawned, and slumped over to her coffee maker, going through the well-memorized motions as she yawned to set her coffee brewing.  
Once she had a steaming cup in her hand she moved over to her small couch, eyes still bleary with sleep and fumbled the remote, clicking through to find the right channel.
She sipped and waited through weather after sports after headlines until they finally, finally set cameras over to Herald Square, where Al Roker was waiting, sitting next to Steve as they tried to stay out of the steady rain.
“Our next guest needs no introduction, and quite frankly I’d say he’s just about as famous as the man with the bag. Please welcome Captain America, Steve Rogers.”
Steve blushed slightly, in his suit without the cowl. “Well thank you, but I think Santa’s just a little more important this time of year.”
Peggy smiled to herself as the two bantered. Steve hated, hated, these talk shows with a passion. It gave him anxiety for days and he always second guessed himself about what he said, knowing it would be memorialized forever on the internet. She sipped her coffee, watching as they talked about his stint protecting the president elect, his part in the election and how he was helping re-distribute PPE to some of the hardest hit areas in America.
“So what are your Thanksgiving plans, Captain?” Al asked joyfully, a large smile on his face.
“Well, I’ll be following the CDC recommendations and staying home. And watching the parade, of course.” Steve smiled, though she noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “As I’m sure you know, currently most of the Avengers are living in Stark Tower, and we’ll be having Thanksgiving dinner together.”
“A wise choice, indeed. Things are looking quite different this year.” Al looked back at Herald Square, decorated but empty except for a few distant groups of people there to see the decorations and the small camera crew ready to film the downsized parade of balloons and floats.
Steve looked over the rainy square, and Peggy could see how he was fighting to keep a smile on his face. “Yes, Al, yes they are.”
“You know, I don’t usually like to get into gossip,” Peggy slowly let her cup fall to her lap as she leaned forward, Steve’s shoulders stiffening, “but there’s a rumor that you have a girlfriend? A Mrs. America?”
Steve laughed, more out of discomfort than anything. “Well, I don’t think we’re quite there yet.”
“But there is a special someone for you this year?” Al leaned back, smiling.
“Let’s just say I think I got my present from Santa very early this year.”
~*~
Peggy smiled when the image of Steve, relaxed in bed, popped up on her screen. “Caught you in bed, have I?”
He smiled at her over the Facetime connection, “Felt like being a little lazy today.”
“After all that hard work at the parade this morning?” She asked, smirking.
He hid his face in his hands, peaking out at her. “You saw that?”
She laughed, leaning back. “Of course I saw that. You think I miss any interviews you do if I can help it?”
Steve winced, turning his face half away. “And…”
Peggy bit her lip, smiling. “And I think Santa’s been very good to both of us this year.” She quickly changed the subject, leaning on her counter. “What are you doing while you’re being lazy?”
He flipped the camera to let her see the television across from him, the black and white movie paused, “March of the Wooden Soldiers. I can’t believe people still watch this. I loved this when I was a kid.”
Peggy smiled, flipping her own camera once she saw his face, sharing her own television where the same movie was playing on, colorized and muted. “Traditions are traditions.”
He turned the computer back, fluffing the pillows behind him. “What about you? I mean, is this your tradition?”
Peggy flipped her camera back and leaned on her counter to look at him. “Not really. I’ve gone to a few big meals with co-workers since I’ve lived here. I’ve heard the discourse around the history of it. I like the idea that no matter what, you spend a day remembering to be thankful for the things and people in your life.”
“I’m thankful for you,” Steve replied without missing a beat, his mouth a thin line of seriousness. “I am so thankful I met you, Peggy.”
Peggy swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m thankful for you, too, Steve.” She cleared her throat, smiling as she started moving around her kitchen, trying to move past the emotional lump in her that threatened every time they started to talk about how serious they actually were as a couple. “So, who is cooking? I hope it’s not Tony.”
Steve laughed at her, shaking his head. “God, no. He had it catered. We’re meeting for a big dinner in an hour or so. You?”
Peggy turned away, pulling a small blue box out of her freezer. “Hungry Man Turkey and Stuffing dinner.” She shrugged, tossing it on the counter. “It was all they had left, not a single butterball was left in sight at the store yesterday, not that my stove could handle it, anyway.”
Steve’s brows knit together, “Peggy…”
She stood tall, “You know what I’m going to say. We had this conversation yesterday.”
“And you know what I’m going to say.” He sighed, sitting up and pushing his laptop to the bed. “I can’t let you sit at home alone and eat that.”
“What?” She asked, feigning innocence. “I’m sure it’s much better than the Lean Cuisines I usually eat.”
He frowned, standing. “You know what I mean.”
She crossed her arms. “And you know how I feel. It’s not very important to me where I am today at all. Or what I eat.”
“But it’s important to me.”
Peggy could feel the lump in her throat that had been a declaration of love ready to pour from her lips turn cold. They hadn’t really fought before, but she could feel it on the horizon. She guessed, if she understood it correctly, fighting on Thanksgiving was as much a time-honored tradition as the turkey. She took a shaky breath. “What’s important to me is that you don’t manage to undo all the good you’ve done so far by getting caught with me.”
“Al’s let the cat out of the bag, Peg. We’re not even sneaking around.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Look, I get it, I do, but…”
“But what?”
He sighed. “I’ll call you in a bit, ok?” His video blinked out of existence and she stared at the screen, that lump in her throat growing larger and larger by the second.
~*~
Peggy pulled the oven open, poking her fork in. The mashed potatoes were warm, she could tell by the way the smushed under her fork, but the gravy hadn’t melted nearly enough and still looked at bit… solid. She couldn’t even pierce the turkey slices. She carefully put her hand in the oven and sighed. There was no way it had heated up properly, even if she had turned it up to 350 almost an hour ago.
She sighed, closing it and tossing her oven mitt to the side.
She was rooting through her small recycling bucket for the box to see what the microwave directions were when a knock sounded at her door.
She tossed the blue box on the counter and wiped her hand on a towel as she rounded the counter, peaking out the peephole before unlocking the door.
She didn’t know if she should be happy or upset. She couldn’t contain her smile, but rushed him in the apartment, anyway. “What if someone saw you?”
“Let them.” He sighed, putting the big brown bag he was carrying on her counter and shedding his hat, glasses, oversized jacket and mask. He was fairly unrecognizable in that get up, the mask saw to that. “I’m allowed to see my girlfriend on Thanksgiving.”
She swallowed, twisting her hands in front of her. “Is that what I am?”
He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Any reason you wouldn’t want to be?”
“What if someone saw you going out to see your girlfriend?” She asked, sliding closer to him, the anger falling out of her voice.
Steve let his hands come out of his pockets and slid them up and down her arms. “I’d have to inform them that she was part of my bubble, and that even if I didn’t see her today, I’d see her tomorrow, or Saturday, or the day after that.”
Peggy let him pull her closer and into his embrace. “I should be cross with you, you didn’t listen to a word I said.”
He leaned down, lips close to hers, “Be mad. I wasn’t leaving you alone today.” He kissed her softly. “And I didn’t want to be without you, either.”
Peggy let her arms wind around his neck, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers. “I didn’t get a second Hungry Man dinner, so I hope you don’t mind sharing,” she whispered, pulling away and smiling.
Steve tipped his head to the brown bag he’d bought, a small half smile on his face. “I raided the feast before they put it out. I got enough for both of us, but if you want to have that frozen dinner…”
“God, no,” Peggy laughed, letting her head fall to his chest. “I think my oven’s finally died, and all I’ve got is a congealed mess in there.”
“Good thing I came over,” Steve squeezed her tight, rocking them a bit as he laughed at the circumstances.
“Very good thing.”
A/N: 1. The Macy’s Parade did take place in NYC this morning, albeit with many pre-recorded sections and very scaled down. And it did rain. And Al Roker was there. 2. March of the Wooden Soldiers came out in 1934, still airs in America every year, and is a WILD ride of a movie if you’ve never seen it. My family quotes it throughout the year, and I always look forward to it. 3. I hope you all had a wonderful, socially distant Thanksgiving this year, and that everyone stays healthy.
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firewoodfigs · 4 years
Text
into each life some rain must fall 
Six times he stands before a grave in the rain, grieving. But this time, courage is reborn. [5+1 Things] 
read on ao3 
i.
Riza Hawkeye is terrifying. This is the first thought that crosses Roy’s mind when he sees her slicing up the carcass of a chicken (or is it a duck?) without even flinching. So when it rains that day, he doesn't think it’s necessary to find her, in hopes of passing her an umbrella. Truthfully, he doubts someone like her is even capable of catching the common cold.
Perhaps it’s childlike bravery, or sheer stupidity, but Roy decides to search for her anyway. He can think of many reasons why this is an awful idea. First, Roy knows he’s kind of good-looking, the same way he knows he’s sort of ingenious and incredible. But he also knows his aunt is paying a lot of money for his lessons, and that he’s here to learn; not to chase girls or get a girlfriend. Second, he knows from his sisters’ stories that the female imagination is capable of unimaginable things, and he most certainly does not want her, of all people, to get the wrong idea.
If word ever gets out about the little stunt he’s about to pull, his sisters would never let him live it down.
But thunder rumbles in the distance, and rain pelts down incessantly, relentlessly. It’s enough to make even a grown man shiver. So he jogs over to her school in quick strides, searching for a socially awkward urchin with messy golden hair and a terrifying glare.
Roy only manages to find her in the end, after what must have been hours of searching. She’s not at school, no. She’s kneeling in front of a tombstone with a bunch of wilted freesias and roses, staring blankly at the inscription written on it.
He says nothing, only lifts his umbrella over her grieving form and lets half of himself get drenched.
Miss Hawkeye glares at him when she finally notices his presence, but accepts the umbrella begrudgingly nonetheless. As she turns around to face him, he sees rivulets streaming down her cheeks, and Roy wonders if it's the rain or her tears.
She rubs her eyes impatiently. “It’s just the rain,” she insists, even though the umbrella shields her from the raging storm overhead.
ii.
Master Hawkeye dies in his arms after begging him to take care of his daughter. He’s only twenty, halfway through the academy and still unacquainted with death. He’s too stunned to care about decorum and propriety and honorifics at the moment, and ends up yelling for Riza to come.
She appears a moment later, hair still a dishevelled, dampened mess; knuckles white from gripping the doorframe so hard. Her eyes are hollow and she’s too numb, too shocked to say or do anything as she stares at her father’s unnaturally still form.
For a long while, nothing he says seems to elicit any kind of response from her. It’s almost like she’s catatonic; trapped in another dimension where he can’t reach her.
He ends up taking care of the burial and the estate and everything else.
The funeral passes by in a haze. It’s a small, quiet affair. His master has never had many (or any, actually) friends to begin with, anyway, given his eccentricity and preference for seclusion.
Roy stays by her side before a gravestone again afterwards. It’s a sunny day. She doesn’t kneel this time; only stares quietly at the name engraved on it like it belongs to a stranger rather than a father.
To his dismay, he learns that, unlike him, she has no other living relatives or family to turn to. How lonely must it be, then, being trapped in this nondescript, deserted town all by herself?
So he offers her his contact details; his dreams and aspirations for the future as an excuse for them to maintain some semblance of a friendship. It’s probably closer to an acquaintanceship, given that they hadn’t really spoken much even during his stay at the Hawkeye manor. Either way, it’s better than being all alone, he thinks.
In exchange, Miss Hawkeye simply responds with a small, sad smile before asking if she can entrust her back to his dream; offering her own naive ideals and hopes for a better, brighter future.
And then, she unbuttons her blouse as soon as they return to the manor to unveil an intricate array begging to be deciphered. For all his brains and talents Roy can only stare, shell-shocked.
What the hell had his master done?
The sky begins to weep for the abuse she’s endured for the sake of bearing an alchemist’s legacy. But the misty rain can’t wash away the ink splaying out like blood on her back; the pain she must have suffered during the excruciating procedure.
“I’m sorry,” is the only thing he can say to break the silence that hangs over them like a death sentence, as he crosses the distance between them to ghost his fingers over the apology inscribed onto her back.
Miss Hawkeye offers him an impassive shrug. “It… it doesn’t matter,” she mumbles, but her shoulders are quaking and her hands are trembling as she grips on to her blouse for dear life.
iii.
The war finally ends. Rain descends from the heavens like drops of silver after what must surely have been hell on earth. A rarity, Roy thinks, where condensation in the air is caused only by blood, not water. A gift from the gods (do they exist?), perhaps. He lifts his palms heavenward, as if begging for the rain to wash away his sins; his scars and his very soul.
It doesn’t. A soldier like him now inured to violence and gore doesn’t deserve such a reprieve.
At the very least, though, the Hero of Ishval is grateful that it renders him useless. A hero. The title sits uncomfortably on his tongue, in his gut. He’s nothing more than a murderer; a monster, and he doesn’t want any medals of gold or glory emblazoned across his military garb. Not when they’re just symbols celebrating death and destruction.
Roy watches from the distance as a sorrowful silhouette with a familiar tuft of blonde hair kneels over a makeshift grave.
“An Ishvalan child, shot and left to die on the roadside alone,” she explains reverently with a forlorn smile, when he inches closer to ask whether it’s a fallen comrade.
He swallows thickly. God, if only he’d kept his ugly mouth shut back then. Then maybe she’d still just be shooting birds and rabbits and antelopes. Maybe she’d still be making chicken soup for dinner now (imagining the smell of cooked meat is enough to make him nauseous). Maybe she’d still be stuck in the raffish countryside; in that countrified, eerie manor all by herself.
Being alone, he thinks, is still infinitely better than being surrounded by cadavers in a deluge of blood-stained sand.
The… sniper (The Hawk’s Eye leaves an awfully bitter taste in his mouth, like he’s biting a bullet) clenches her fist when she’s done, before asking him for the impossible.
“I have a favour to ask of you, Mr. Mustang,” she begins. “Please burn and crush my back.”
“There’s no way I can -” Roy replies immediately, almost yelling. How in the world could he burn her flesh, with the alchemy he’d learnt from her back?
“Please,” she says, begging for him to liberate her from the bonds chaining her to a deceased man so that she can be her own person. Just Riza Hawkeye, not the keeper of her father’s secrets.
“Damn it,” Roy curses under his breath. She makes it sound like it’s her fault for entrusting her father’s research to him. But isn’t he the one who had abused the power entrusted to him; defiled her trust, destroyed her hopes of everyone getting their happy ending somehow?
And yet... endings like these only exist in grand castles and fairy tales. Not in arid, scorched deserts, and most certainly not in their horror stories of ruthless murder and bloody genocide and endless strife.
If only he’d been a little less foolish back then. If only.
Roy relents.
iv.
Rain pours down in heavy, roaring torrents when he burns her back. Roy wishes it could fall through the roof somehow; douse the fire eating her at her flesh so he doesn’t have to hear her suppressed screams that come out as whimpers as she bites down on an old, ragged cloth. It breaks his heart to burn her, a friend he’s come to cherish and appreciate through all the hell they’ve endured together over bland coffee and stale bread.
But he does so anyway. Because it’s what she wants - no, what she needs. He lets the massive downpour swallow the sounds of their cries; lets the wind carry away the lethal secret that has killed hundreds (or thousands?) into the dark, endless void.
“It… it’s done,” Roy whispers breathlessly at last. He removes the burnt tissue carefully, mindful of her quivering frame before covering them with sterile dressings. Then, he gives her the painkillers he’d gathered from the apothecary, which she eagerly swallows.
He doesn’t dare meet her eyes while she’s still conscious, fearing that he’ll only see hatred swimming in them. How could she not, after all that he’s done? He wouldn’t blame her, to be honest. She has every right to, and he deserves every ounce of it.
Fortunately, the medicine kicks in quickly. Roy kneels before her half-lucid form as her eyelids begin to flutter shut. God, he wants to beg for forgiveness, but...
“I forgive you,” she murmurs sleepily even before he says anything, before finally falling into painless oblivion. Roy stays by her side, nervously close and gentle as he wipes her forehead with a cool, damp cloth to make sure a fever doesn’t develop.
Afterwards, he goes to her parents’ grave to beg them for forgiveness; to repent for all that he’s done to their daughter.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t fulfil your last wish, Master,” he cries, filled with regret that he hadn’t listened to his warning back then. The stones only stare back at him wordlessly. Self-reproach swallows him whole, the way squalls of driving rain completely engulf him.
A little less than a month later, Riza Hawkeye marches into his office, stoic and stalwart with an unrivalled expertise in guns and an unyielding duty to the living and the dead. He’s inclined to believe that maybe, just maybe, he can make the necessary reparations and restitutions with her by his side. And so he makes her his personal adjutant; gives her the right to shoot his back if he steps off the path.
It’s the least he can do after he’s defaced hers, after all.
“Will you follow me?” Roy asks apprehensively.
“If that is your wish, then even into hell,” she states, not flinching in the least. He wants to tell her that she’s already been through hell with him, and she doesn’t deserve anymore of that.
Instead, he grits his teeth and looks on ahead resolutely, determined not to let her down this time.
v.
Brigadier General Maes Hughes is buried on a relatively bright afternoon. The sun shines as birds sing and flowers begin to bloom. The spring sky shimmers overhead in a vibrant, cheerful shade of blue like it’s paying an ode to his sprightly nature.
And yet, the ceremony is distinctly somber: it’s filled with soldiers who aren’t allowed to break protocol and say their eulogies and prayers; a wife whose heart is torn asunder, who still yearns for him to return home, and a child who’s far too young to understand that he’s not coming back.
Colonel Mustang stands at attention as the soldiers lower his best friend six feet under. His stomach coils as his heart wrenches. He feels like throwing up again. A part of him wishes his body would stop behaving in this manner so that he can at least attempt to convince himself that this isn’t real; that it’s just a feverish dream which will be chased away by the morning light.
But it’s real. It’s not a dream. Because Elicia, darling Elicia is crying for her father. “Why are you burying Papa?” she yells. “He has to return to his work!”
Roy only barely manages to stop himself from grieving aloud. Years of military training, perhaps. He continues watching quietly as the bugle sounds off in Hughes’ honour instead, and waits for everyone to leave before saying his piece.
Well, almost everyone.
“... Are you alright?” His Lieutenant asks.
“Yes,” he answers unconvincingly. “It’s… it’s a terrible day for rain.”
She looks up at the vast horizon above them, a pretty pastel pink with tender ribbons of lilac streaking across. “It’s not raining -”
“Yes, it is,” he whispers, before donning the military cap once more.
Thankfully, Hawkeye understands. She gives him a moment to grieve, not bothering with senseless platitudes or empty sympathies. A crow caws in the distance, calling for the departed soul of his friend as he stands, uniform dry but cheeks inexplicably damp.
“Let’s go, sir. It’s getting chilly here,” Lieutenant Hawkeye calls gently. Colonel Mustang nods and obliges, leaving his best friend behind in the setting sun.
Daybreak arrives once more, like clockwork. His eyes are raw and red and swollen shut as he mulls over the consequences of ditching work for the day.
Hawkeye turns up at his doorstep with freshly baked bread and a warm cup of coffee just then: the morning light that offers him a brief respite from grief.  
vi.
It’s pouring this time as he stands in front of Hughes’ grave. Somehow, it always does whenever he stands alive before death.
The sky and rain are like sackcloth and ash, Roy thinks, as it falls on his shoulders and shrouds him from the rest of the world in a sad, pearly grey. But he’s been so scared and frustrated and exhausted over the past few months - from losing his closest friend, to dealing with a government corrupt to its very core and an impending nationwide catastrophe - that it’s a welcome relief.
“It’s almost time, Colonel,” comes a gentle voice in the midst of the gloomy darkness.
The downpour gradually lessens into a soft drizzle.
It’s impossible to miss the scent of her, lavender and petrichor masked beneath gunpowder even in this graveyard reeking of death. And it finally dawns upon Roy then, why the time they’d spent apart had felt like an eternity; why it’d pained him so badly like someone was ripping his innards out. Because he loves her. He loves her so much that it pushes out through every fiber of his being; that he almost can’t contain the urge to kiss her; hold her, keep her in his arms forever.
Behind him, he hears her feet shift subtly. Her breathing is weary and slightly laboured. A well-timed reminder that she’s very much alive, not buried underneath soil like the other rotting corpses in this god-awful place.
Roy bites on his lips, hard, to restrain himself from crushing them on hers. They don’t need any more fires between them when they already have enough to extinguish.
But she’s here now, at least, and that’s more than enough. It’s enough for him to keep moving forward despite having buried a part of himself alongside the man he’d seen as a comrade, a friend and a brother. It’s enough for courage to be reborn; for him to face another day with strength and hope.
“Let’s go, Lieutenant,” he says at last, a genuine smile crossing his features for the first time in months. She hesitates for a moment before trailing behind him, footsteps quiet and steadfast. And when they depart the land of the dead (together) to meet the maelstrom awaiting the living he’s not afraid anymore.
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