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shewolfofficial · 5 years

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Dad!Levi x Mom!Reader ~ Run Pt. 2

Warning: Cursing, Slight Angst at the end

Summary: You spend a few days with Levi and your friends still in the forest, one night you recieve news that the Scouts were no longer criminals

A/N: If there's any grammar mistakes please excuse them, I've started to write fanfiction after midnight and I become tired when I'm reading over it for mistakes

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You woke up to birds chirping and quiet chatter from around you, opening your eyes you glanced down to your side where Rose was supposed to be sleeping only to find her not there. Shooting up like a bullet you failed to notice everyone was already awake including your two daughters. "Mommy I'm here don't worry" Rose came out from behind the tree holding a bunch of flowers she picked in her little hand "o-oh I thought you went off by yourself" you chuckled dryly to your young child who giggled and walked over to Sasha and Connie who were eating a cooked fish. You could see Levi sitting by the small river on a large stone talking to Isabelle, probably bitching about people they don't like since you usually catch them doing it.

"Good morning Y/N" Armin chirped to you as you stretched a little "good morning Armin, mornin' Mikasa" you greeted him and the girl who stood next to him. "You both get enough sleep?" you asked them as they both nodded "what about you? How are you holding up?" Mikasa replied while you shrugged "I'm alright, nothing to worry about here" you snickered as she nodded. "Well looks like someone is finally awake!" a teasing voice came from behind you, immediately knowing who it belonged to you rolled your eyes playfully turning around to face Jean who wore a devious grin "well good morning to you too.... JEAN BOYYYYY!!" you shouted to him before laughing, hearing Armin and Mikasa titter from behind you. "Jean boyy!" Sasha called out from across the little river making you laugh harder. "Oh shut up potato girl" Jean growled before facing you "if you want it that way, fine Y/N this means war" he snickered before appearing next to you and leaning on your shoulder trying to imitate your voice " 'Oh Captain Levi! I am a damsel in distress oh please save me my knight in shining armor! ' "Jean exclaimed gaining Rose's and Isabelle's attention as they watched you both.

Frowning you shot him a glare as a pink blush dusted your cheeks "sorry what was that? I couldn't hear you over the attempts of you trying to impress Mikasa" you snickered as Jean's eye twitched. "Oh I'm sorry! What was that Y/N? I didn't hear you over the fact that you never stop fawning over the Captain!" Jean shot back frowning.

Isabelle nudged Levi's side resulting in him looking to her in confusion, the only response he got was a gesture towards you and Jean trying to embarrass and insult each other. "I've actually never seen this side of mom before... It's strange but funny" Isabelle mutters as she and Levi both watch you and Jean torment each other.

Armin was now clinging onto your arm to try restrain you after Jean said that you pissed yourself on your first expedition out loud. Boy were you furious at him. "YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVET SPEAK OF IT AGAIN YOU BITCH!" you screeched in horror to the male who laughed at your expression. "Oh well at least we know who won this war right Y/N?" Jean snickered before you sent him a death glare. "You should really stop drawing pictures of Mikasa and leaving them around in the dorm Jean Boy!" you watched his face drop in terror as he paled "fine I give up you win" Jean pouted in disappointment. "Momma bear wins again!" you say proudly as Rose claps excitedly from beside you "great job mommy! Here, have a flower!" Rose smiled as she placed a flower behind your ear. "Thank you sweetie~" you sang to her kissing her forehead.

Rose was a very innocent and kind child, she would always make sure you, Levi and everyone else was happy or she'd try to cheer them up. You could tell she would be a kind young woman when she grows up. Isabelle was quite the daddy's girl, she would be interested in fighting, the Military and topics related to it. She had the personality of her father and wouldn't hesitate to jump into a fight if she wanted.

Getting lost in thought Levi didn't notice you and Rose arriving in front of him until you waved a hand in front of him "Leviii? Helllooo? You there or are you in cloud 9?" you joked hearing Isabelle snicker as Levi's gaze darted up to meet yours. "What?" he asked as you placed your hands on your hips "what's the plan for today cap?" you smirk at him "we're waiting for Hanji to return with news on the MP situation in the capital, we may be closer to not being considered as criminals anymore" Levi says as Rose sat on his knee. "Right..Well thanks for bringing me up to date anyway" you say watching Rose hand a flower to Levi and Isabelle as he bounces her on his knee. "Has... The whole house been destroyed..?" Levi asks quietly looking at you, sighing you nod "currently we're homeless, quite literally since we are in a forest" you snicker at your own joke as Levi playfully rolls his eyes.

"I'll sort the housing situation out with Historia once we get her and Eren back" Levi says as you shake your head. "Nope you can leave that to me mister! You'll probably threaten her or something" you smile to Levi who clicks his tongue "probably... Fine.. You do it then" he says knowing you won't give up until he agrees.

// Time Skip - 4 hours later \\

You watched the sunset over the hill through a gap in the trees, E/C orbs watching the blazing mass of fire and heat slowly disappear over the hills, hearing rustling of grass come up from behind you-you were soon joined by Levi who sat next to you in silence. A few minutes passed and Levi broke the silence "Sasha wants to bring you hunting for food for dinner, you know, since it's animals and all that shit so.." Levi spoke as you nodded your head laying back on the grass lookin up to the darkening sky starting to be speckled with stars. "I'll go with her in a minute.. I'm just watching the view you know?" you reply as Levi nods looking over your features, sighing he tore his silver orbs off you "I'm sorry I brought you and the kids into this mess... You three were doing just fine" he mumbles in guilt, shooting up you look at him. "Don't dare blame yourself for us being dragged into this shit, it's not your fault, it's more of my fault since I disgarded the thought of all scouts being labelled as wanted, that included the ones who retired. It's my fault not yours so don't beat yourself up over it" you say as your mother tone kicks in. Levi shakes his head running a hand through his dark hair "If Hanji wasn't there when those pigs had you at gunpoint you and the girls would be dead, I should have fucking been there to protect you three like a good father and husband" he bites his lip as I wrap my arms around him. "Nonono Levi what did I say about beating yourself up over it? What are you talking about? You're a brilliant father! The girls love and admire you! Don't forget you're an amazing husband, you've protected us and supported us more than I can count" you exclaim to him. Holding Levi in your embrace as you rocked gently back and forward.

"Now I'm going to go hunting with Sasha and we're going to get everyone dinner for tonight, if I come back and you're still beating yourself up over it you'll have to listen to me rant about how great of a father and husband you are for god knows how long, ya hear me?" you couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips as you pulled you both up, resting both your hands on his shoulders. "Let momma bear take care of daddy bear and the cubs for tonight" you giggle as Levi smiles a little before leaning in and kissing your lips, kissing back you nip his lower lip before pulling away. "Now come on soldier boy, let's go back to the others" you say holding his hand and dragging him back to the others.

// Time Skip - After Dinner \\

You and Sasha managed to score a deer and hauled it back to camp where you gained some surprised faces. "Mom is that one of Santa's reindeers!? Did you kill one" Rose exclaims on the verge if tears thinking you killed Rudolf or something. "No she didn't Rose, Santa's reindeers live In the North Pole remember?" Levi instantly soothes the young girl as she clings to him.

The deer actually tasted really nice and Rose even ate it. Leaving everyone with full stomachs and tired minds, Armin and the others began going to bed. "Rose you can stay with me tonight up in the tree yeah?" Isabelle offered as Rose nodded excitedly to sleep in the tree with her big sister.

Gaining some remaining heat from the campfire you heard the light snores from all around you, presuming everyone was asleep you stayed up getting as much heat from the dying flames. That didn't last long until arms sneakily wrapped around your waist as you felt someone digging their head into the crook of your neck, catching a glimpse of Levi's raven hair you calmed down as he cuddled into you. You could hear Levi let out a low growl from behind you "what was that you were saying earlier? 'Let momma bear take care of daddy bear and the cubs for tonight'? Looks like you already done your part now why don't we switch roles... Let me take care of you tonight" Levi whispers before biting on your neck making you squeak. Standing up Levi pulled you up before dragging you a little bit away from the camp. "Levi where are we going?" you ask as he leads the way "tch.. Don't worry" was all he responded with.

// Next Day \\

You sat at the trunk of a tree watching Sasha and Connie talk to your daughters, Isabelle seemed to have a blush on her cheeks which made you snicker seeing how she formed a crush on Connie. Levi was out collecting sticks and twigs incase you needed to start a fire with Mikasa and Jean. Armin fishing in the river and you just sat there chilling, not really in the mood since you were sore from last night so you didn't fancy probably embarrassing yourself in front of everyone.

Noticing figures approaching in the distance made you quirk an eyebrow soon recognising them as Levi, Mikasa and Jean coming back with firewood you could hear Levi order them to drop it in a pile where the last camp-fire was situated.

Soon enough the darkness of night begun to creep up and arrive that signalling dinner time, luckily you managed to catch a rabbit but immediately got attached to the white fluffy animal and quickly be-friended it.

Now resulting in you holding the litte creature to your chest as everyone stared at you like a hungy pack of wolves. "Y/N hand over the rabbit" Jean said reaching for it, scurrying backwards your back his against the tree. "Cone on Y/N it'll be quick and easy, it won't feel a thing" Connie tries as you shake your head pouting. Levi walked past them giving you a fed up expression "Y/N give it." he said squinting his eyes down to you holding out his hand. Wrapping the small ball of fluff in your arms protectively you refuse Levi which makes him frown at you. "Y/N it won't feel a thing, just hand it over" Levi attempted once more before you sighed and gently passed the small bunny to Levi, holding it by the stomach with one hand he turned his back to you. A few seconds later you heard a firm snap making you flinch as the rabbit dangled from Levi's grip on it's ears.

You literally had to force yourself to eat a part of the cooked rabbit which made you gag, rabbits had been your favourite animal since you were young. Managing to befriend one then have it immediately die a few minutes later upset you. Once you finished eating your friend you laid against a tree outside the small circle of people eating your little friend. Not long after Hanji appeared with Moblit with news on the whole government issue. The fake king had been exposed and the scouts were no longer criminals. Watching everyone jump and shout for joy including your two daughters, sitting in the background watching them celebrate you knew since the fake king has been exposed, the mission to retake Wall Maria will be happening once everyone regroups meaning you will have to leave Levi for another while without seeing him.

That could last god knows how long, and it's Wall Maria for bloody sake! The place is full of titans! This made you feel even more sick to the bottom of your stomach with worry about your husband and friends.

You had to admit, not seeing Levi for a few weeks upset you, getting to be reunited with him for under a week made you happy but the thought of having him leave again broke you since there's a chance he might not come back one day.

#attack on titan #levi ackerman #aot #shingkei no kyojin #x reader #levi x reader #levi #snk #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi #fanfiction #captain levi x reader #fanfic #anime #manga

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cursedmenagerie · 5 years

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　　　"I will not forgive you if we find trouble in this place.” Ralyanis looks past her companion to the old fort ahead of them, carved stone walls that must have once housed a great army now left in the uncaring hands of nature. She would never have given the structure a second glance in any other situation, but she spied wooden scaffolding among the derelict ruins. A clear sign that someone still resided within.

　　　Virizion, with his endless optimism, kept at his steady stride towards the fort’s entrance. “I am certain we will. And if we live through it I won’t complain if you remind me every day after. But these are the first intelligent beings we’ve come across since leaving the caves. With any luck, or perhaps by the grace of the gods, they’ll be willing to help us.”

　　　"And how do you intend on asking as much from them?” She stops him with a firm hand to his chest. They stand at the edge of the tree line. If they so chose, the two could disappear in seconds and leave the fort and its eerie promise of contact with other people behind them. “We cannot be certain they speak the same languages as us. They live in the wilds, in a crumbling fortress where they can defend themselves from anything they perceive as a threat. How inviting. Surely they will send us away with nothing to show for our efforts, if not swords at our backs.”

　　　"Then we shall give as good as we get, won’t we dear friend?” The smile he gives her before pressing on mollifies her. It isn’t one born of over confidence; rather, Virizion knows fully well the dangers ahead and recognizes that they came with the decision they made to leave behind their home.

　　　Her heart still beats swiftly as she keeps pace behind him, bow in hand with an arrow nocked as a precaution. When they come within twenty feet of the fort’s entrance a harsh voice calls out above them. The words fall on non-fluent ears, but the meaning rings like a clear day and the two halt. On the archway above the gates a man in tarnished armor surveys them, making a motion for another at his side to leave him. Virizion hazards a step forward and the man calls out again, drawing a sword from its sheath.

　　　Virizion raises empty hands, dipping his head in a display of submission. He clears his throat, brows drawn as he considers his course of action. When he speaks Ralyanis recognizes the slight distinction between their own and the ancient language of the Ayleids. “We are peaceful travelers. We mean no harm. We seek shelter and food, if it can be spared.”

　　　The lack of a response makes it obvious that the man doesn’t understand them. From the gate a pair of his companions emerge with weapons drawn to approach them. The leader speaks briefly with another in simple robes in the same throaty language. The thought dawns on her that these are likely Nords, descendants of those who had driven her people away. They hardly impress, caked in dirt and wearing flimsy leathers about them. One of the men reaches for Ralyanis’ bow and she flinches back.

　　　"Keep away from me.” Too late she recognizes that the venom in her voice does little to help their situation. A woman with her bow drawn wearing full armor doesn’t suit the nonviolent message they’re trying to get across. Virizion gives her a pointed stare while stepping between her and the men.

　　　"We are peaceful,” He reiterates, this time in a broken attempt at ancient Nordic. “We need food. We will leave if-”

　　　One man, with graying chin hairs that fall to his collarbone, cuts him off with a huff. His tone seems less of anger and more of annoyance, at least. What little relief she feels at this sinks when the leader calls out again, and his men move behind them to usher them forward with the points of their swords. With few choices left the two elves comply. They’re lead past the fort’s gates where the robed man awaits them among a small handful of others. In each of his hands lays a set of wrought iron manacles.

　　　Ralyanis seeks Virizion’s eyes and an understanding passes between them. She makes to put away her bow in feigned obedience, and in the same instant that Virizion weaves an arcane conduit into existence Ralyanis strikes behind her with the flashing edge of a silver dagger from her belt. Crimson streaks along her face as the man she struck grasps his neck, but she moves fluidly to lay waste to his companion while Virizion conjures an ice wraith into existence, setting its serpentine form of frost and fury upon the Nords within the fort. With a short sword in hand the remaining man behind them holds his own against her meager dagger, though only for a few brief seconds before her partner grapples his sword arm, leaving him open to a clean strike.

　　　Shouts of terror and fury ring out as the two flee towards the trees, but by the time their pursuers finish off the wraith and can make chase the elves are gone.

　　　Night falls before the two take shelter under a rocky outcropping. Neither dares to light a fire for fear of being spotted by the men they fled from, and they sup on what remains of the dried elk they brought from the safety of their home rather than venture out and hunt. No words are shared, except to exchange watch while they gather an hour of rest each. Exhausted as they are, Virizion insisted that they put as much distance as they could between them and the humans that tried to take them captive.

　　　After their two hours of rest they begin their trek again, though at a slower pace in the dark and unfamiliar woods. The miles blur together, with little of note except a lone wolf that pays its fresh kill more mind than it does them.

　　　By the time the sun begins to rise once more they happen upon a site of great destruction. Where the fort they previously encountered had deteriorated over many years, the stone walls and charred buildings before them were destroyed recently. When Ralyanis makes to push aside a fallen log it disintegrates under her touch, and burnt bodies lie rotting in the streets.

　　　"What could have caused this?” Virizion utters the words as a whisper, as though afraid to disturb the scene of a thorough slaughtering.

　　　They make their way towards the far side of the settlement where a solid stone structure sits. Unlike the rest of the town it seems to have suffered minimal damage in the attack given its sturdy nature, but it too has no shortage of corpses surrounding it. A wooden door leading inside sits off its hinge, so they slip inside to salvage what they can and hopefully gain insight into what happened. Most of what they make out to be food stores has been picked clean, and what remains has rotten or been chewed through by vermin. They resign themselves to hunting once they leave the area. Amidst the barren furnishings Ralyanis finds a leather bound book, written in a script she can barely discern as having roots in Ayleidoon and Nordic. A couple of words on the book’s first page can be translated, but the meaning of its passages eludes her. Despite this, the discovery lifts her spirits. With this to study she might make progress in understanding the language spoken by the people of the area.

　　　When the two regroup at the building’s entrance they catch the sound of scuffling feet in the distance which sets them immediately on edge. Ralyanis half expects Virizion to make another attempt at contact, but the memory of nearly becoming captives must still be fresh in his mind for he leads them swiftly towards the gate farthest from the source of the sound to leave the smoldering fortress behind.

　　　From here the mountains slope away, allowing a broad view of the forest ahead of them and a glimmering lake beyond it. They decide on the lake as their next destination, knowing that any source of water will attract creatures to it. Half a day’s travel changes the landscape around them, with white-capped hills giving way to tall fir trees and dusty trails rather than tracks in the snow. By the time they break away to hunt for the night’s meal the only white that remains in view are each other and the distant glimpses of snowy mountain tops they make out through the trees.

　　　It isn’t until they make camp near a shrine of intricately carved stones that Virizion breaks the silence that persisted between them since leaving the Nordic fort. “I’m sorry for my error in judgement.”

　　　Ralyanis is slow in reacting to him, setting aside the book she’d found to face her friend. His focus is elsewhere, the orange flicker of their campfire in his eyes as he stares out across the nearby lake. “You did as you thought best. And you kept them from overrunning us. It was naive and foolish, but we persevered.”

　　　"That it was.” He shakes his head, a grim smile tucked into his collar. “When I thought about journeying to the outside world I envisioned myself as a perfect diplomat. I didn’t even conceive that there might still be so much hatred among the humans.”

　　　"Neither of us could have known what we would face.” Ralyanis stands to cross the pebbled shore until the water lapped at her ankles. “Plans will go astray, and we’ll make mistakes. That is why you brought me along, is it not?” She turns to look at him over her shoulder, relieved to see a brighter shine in his smile. “Look at this place, Viri. The entirety of Syrabane’s temple could fit on the surface of this lake. And we’ve only just begun our journey.”

　　　The crunch of shifting stones signals her friend moving to her side. “I suppose if all goes terribly we could make a home here. Become simple fishermen.”

　　　She chuckles at the thought of either of them settling into a simple life by the water. It didn’t sound much better than the fate their people had resigned themselves to in the mountainous sanctuary. But at least here they would be free. There would be none of their deformed brethren encroaching on their territory, and there would be the promise of interaction with the other races of the world. The view wasn’t half bad, either.

　　　"That can come at a later day. We shouldn’t give up before we have begun after all. Get some rest, friend. I’ll take first watch.” Ralyanis pats his arm before moving to retrieve her bow and quiver. The last of the sun’s warm hues bled from the sky as she settled in at the edge of their camp, daring any creature to disturb the peace they deserved.

#gather around and listen // drabble #this thing is less of a quick story and more like a dang chapter #but either way i'm proud #i'm also certain there's a couple innacuracies to the lore but to that i say 'fuck it'#trained defender // hc: ralyanis #a journey of hope // ic: ralyanis

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chibi-jing · 6 years

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FFXV in French - Archives Translations - Stelae from Steyliff

Hello everyone! Here is the French text and the literal English translation for all the stelae found at Steyliff’s camps in FFXV Royal Edition! ^^

French

Bois de Steyliff

Que la lumière brille dans l’abîme ténébreux…

Sanctuaire d’Intellune

Dans leur grande sagesse, les Oracles apportent la paix dans le monde, leur resplendissant trident à la main. Celle de mon époque a fait preuve d’une abnégation exceptionnelle. Puisse le récit que j’inscris sur ces stèles transmettre sa bravoure à la génération qui verra naître le roi de la lumière.

Sanctuaire de Tunlough

Même les rois du Lucis ne reçoivent pas tous les mêmes faveurs des dieux, bien qu’ils en soient les élus. Je n’ai pas eu la chance d’être doté d’un talent pour l’art de la guerre, mais le destin m’a offert celle d’avoir une Oracle remarquable à mes côtés.

Sanctuaire de Scorpure

Notre monde est la proie de terribles daemons, mais contrairement à mon valeureux prédécesseur qui était toujours à la tête de ses troupes, je me tiens à l’arrière des miennes pour donner des ordres incertains et remercier le ciel d’être accompagné de Messagers divins pour nous mener à la victoire.

Sanctuaire de Courcaive

L’Oracle de mon époque était la plus remarquable de sa lignée, dotée d’un pouvoir inégalé et faisant preuve d’un altruisme sans limites. Elle a parcouru le monde jour et nuit pour libérer les gens de la souffrance et de la peur, leur apportant la lumière de l’espoir, aussi infatigable que le Soleil et la Lune.

Sanctuaire de Terrecephe

Quand j’ai appris que l’expédition des vestiges de la civilisation de Solheim avait été exterminée, j’ai compris que le frêle équilibre des forces venait d’être brisé en faveur des daemons. J’ai alors décidé de partir pour la ténébreuse forêt de Cleigne avec mon armée et l’Oracle qui était de passage à Insomnia.

Sanctuaire d’Essofax

La route vers Risorath était semée d’embûches. Notre expédition était retardée non seulement par le terrain inégal, mais aussi par les griffes et les crocs tapis dans les ténèbres qui s’étendaient sous l’épaisse canopée. Nous traversions l’obscurité uniquement guidés par la lumière du trident que brandissait le frêle bras de l’Oracle.

Sanctuaire de Vanderport

La lumière du trident de l’Oracle nous redonnait du courage. Elle perçait les ténèbres, dissipait les hordes de daemons et éclairait le flot de nos bannières. Nous avions le sentiment qu’elle ramènerait bientôt le calme en ces bois, même si un naglfar nous attendait au bout du chemin.

Sanctuaire de Sprannagh

Une fois la forêt traversée, nous avons découvert Vesper envahi par les flammes et des colonnes de fumée noire. D’innombrables éclairs fendaient le ciel assombri, non pas par des nuages, mais par une immense bête ailée dont émanait la foudre.

L’Oracle pouvait guérir le Mal de la planète et châtier les daemons, mais ses pouvoirs étaient impuissants face à une telle force de la nature. Les lames furent brisées, les bannières brûlées, et maintes vies arrachées. Nous fûmes contraints de tourner le dos à la terreur pour battre en retraite.

Sanctuaire d’Hepplecamp

Si des cieux nous parviennent les douces pluies nourricières, de ses ombres flottantes frappent les foudres meurtrières. Quand la nature nous accable de ces lances lumineuses, nous ne pouvons jamais que nous abriter et prier, mais quand il s’agit d’une bête furieuse, il nous est toujours possible de l’enfermer.

Le rite de la cage de l’Oracle est hélas notre seul espoir. Mon armée a pour tâche d’attirer la bête au plus profond des vestiges, où l’Oracle la retiendra au prix de sa vie. Je fais vœu de garder son trident et de la remplacer dans sa mission sacrée, jusqu’à ce que la prochaine soit en âge de lui succéder. Puisse le futur roi de la lumière être accompagné d’une Oracle aussi exceptionnelle que celle qui est à mes côtés.

English Literal Translation

Steyliff Woods (=Steyliff Grove)

May the light shine in the dark abyss…

Intellune sanctuary (=Haven)

In their great wisdom, the Oracles bring peace to the world, their resplendent trident in their hands. The one of my time has shown exceptional self-sacrifice. May the story I write on these stelae transmit her bravery to the generation that will see the birth of the King of Light.

Tunlough sanctuary

Even the Kings of Lucis do not all receive the same favors from the gods, although they are their chosen ones. I did not have the chance to be endowed with a talent for the art of war, but fate offered me the opportunity to have a remarkable Oracle by my side.

Scorpure sanctuary

Our world is prey of terrible daemons, but unlike my valiant predecessor who was always at the head of his troops, I stand in the back of mine to give uncertain orders and thank Heaven for being accompanied by divine Messengers to lead us to victory.

Courcaive sanctuary

The Oracle of my time was the most remarkable of her lineage, endowed with unparalleled power and endless selflessness. She traveled the world by day and by night to free people from suffering and fear, bringing them the light of hope, as indefatigable as the Sun and the Moon.

Terrecephe sanctuary

When I learned that the expedition of the vestiges of Solheim civilization had been exterminated, I realized that the frail balance of power had just been broken in favor of the daemons. I decided to leave for the dark forest of Cleigne with my army and the Oracle who stopped by Insomnia.

Essofax sanctuary

The road to Risorath was full of pitfalls. Our expedition was delayed not only by the uneven ground, but also by the claws and fangs lurking in the darkness that spread beneath the thick canopy. We crossed the darkness only guided by the light of the trident that the frail arm of the Oracle brandished.

Vanderport sanctuary

The light of the Oracle’s trident gave us courage. It pierced the darkness, scattered the hordes of daemons and brightened the flow of our banners. We had the feeling that it would soon restore calm in these woods, even if a naglfar was waiting for us at the end of the road.

Sprannagh sanctuary

Once the forest crossed, we discovered Vesper invaded by flames and columns of black smoke. Innumerable flashes split the darkened sky, not by clouds, but by an immense winged beast from which lightning emanated.

The Oracle could heal the Harm of the planet (=Starscourge) and chastise the daemons, but her powers were helpless against such force of nature. Blades were broken, banners burned, and many lives torn out. We were forced to turn our backs on terror to retreat.

Hepplecamp sanctuary

If from heaven come the sweet nourishing rains, from its floating shadows strike the murderous lightnings. When nature overwhelms us with these luminous spears, we can only shelter and pray, but when it comes to a furious beast, we can always confine it.

The rite of the Oracle’s cage is unfortunately our only hope. My army has the task of attracting the beast deep within the vestiges, where the Oracle will hold it back at the cost of her life. I vow to keep her trident and replace her in her sacred mission, until the next is old enough to succeed her. May the future King of Light be accompanied by an Oracle as exceptional as the one who is by my side.

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

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The Trump administration is doing this in our name and with our tax dollars 💵. It should make every American citizen angry 😡 🤬🤬that the government is abusing children on an industrial scale.

If we can't take a stand against the abuse of children, we don't deserve to stand as a Democracy period.

"Few of the Trump administration’s policies better exemplify the Trump campaign’s commitment to restoring America’s traditional hierarchies of race, religion, and gender, than family separation."

#ShitholePresident

Trumpism, Realized

To preserve the political and cultural preeminence of white Americans against a tide of demographic change, the administration has settled on a policy of systemic child abuse.

Adam Serwer, Staff writer at The Atlantic | Published June 20, 2019 | The Atlantic | Posted June 23, 2019 |

At least 2,000 children have now been forcibly separated from their parents by the United States government. Their stories are wrenching. Antar Davidson, a former youth-care worker at an Arizona shelter, described to the Los Angeles Timeschildren “huddled together, tears streaming down their faces,” because they believed that their parents were dead. Natalia Cornelio, an attorney with the Texas Human Rights Project, told CNN about a Honduran mother whose child had been ripped away from her while she was breastfeeding. “Inside an old warehouse in South Texas, hundreds of children wait in a series of cages created by metal fencing,” the Associated Press reported. “One cage had 20 children inside.”

In some cases, parents have been deported while their children are still in custody, with no way to retrieve them. John Sandweg, a former director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, told NBC News that some of these family separations will be permanent. “You could be creating thousands of immigrant orphans in the U.S. that one day could become eligible for citizenship when they are adopted,” he said.

White House Chief of Staff John Kelly blithely assured NPR in May that “the children will be taken care of—put into foster care or whatever.” The administration’s main focus is not the welfare of the children, as much as the manner in which breaking up families at the U.S.-Mexico border could send a message to other migrants fleeing violence or persecution. Kelly defended the policy as a “tough deterrent.”

The crisis, to the extent that one exists, is of the administration’s own making. The people fleeing to the U.S. border are a threat neither to American economic prosperity nor to public safety, there is not a great surge of border crossersrequiring an extreme response. There are a variety of options for dealing with them short of amnesty, and the separation of families is not legally required.

The policy’s cruelty is its purpose: By inflicting irreparable trauma on children and their families, the administration intends to persuade those looking to America for a better life to stay home. The barbarism of deliberately inflicting suffering on children as coercion, though, has forced the Trump administration and its allies in the conservative press to offer three contradictory defenses.

First, there’s the denial that the policy exists: Homeland Security Secretary Kirstjen Nielsen declared, “We do not have a policy of separating families at the border. Period.”

Not so, the administration’s defenders in the media have insisted. The policy is both real and delightful. The conservative radio host Laura Ingrahamcalled the uproar “hilarious,” adding sarcastically that “the U.S. is so inhumane to provide entertainment, sports, tutoring, medical, dental, four meals a day, and clean, decent housing for children whose parents irresponsibly tried to bring them across the border illegally.” She also described the facilities as “essentially summer camps.” On Fox News, the Breitbart editor Joel Pollak argued that the detention facilities offer children both basic necessities and the chance to receive an education. “This is a place where they really have the welfare of the kids at heart,” he said.

Others in the administration—such as Attorney General Jeff Sessions and his former aide, the White House adviser Stephen Miller—offer a third defense. The policy exists, they say, and it’s necessary to uphold the rule of law. Sessions told the conservative radio host Hugh Hewitt that the measures in question are routine. “Every time somebody … gets prosecuted in America for a crime, American citizens, and they go to jail, they’re separated from their children,” he said. Miller has presentedfamily separation as a “potent tool in a severely limited arsenal of strategies for stopping immigrants from flooding across the border.”

It is not an accident that these three defenses—the policy does not exist, the children are better off under the policy, and the policy is required by law—are contradictory. The heart of Trumpism is both cruelty and denial. The administration and its supporters valorize cruelty against outsiders even while denying that such cruelty is taking place.

The policy of shattering families and the cacophony of conservative voices defending it are the fruits of a campaign of dehumanization that began when Trump announced his candidacy for president, declaring that Mexico was sending rapists and drug dealers to migrate illegally to the United States. Trump’s advocates have said that his generalizations about religious and ethnic minorities apply only to some members of those communities—but as president, Trump has used fears of terrorism and criminality among the few to justify persecuting the many. Only some Muslims may be terrorists, but that “some” justifies barring as many as possible from the country. Only some immigrants are MS-13 “animals,” but that “some” justifies caging all unauthorized immigrants.

Dehumanizing “some” dehumanizes the whole. This has been Trump’s strategy from the beginning. It has been an essential element of the most shameful episodes in American history, a list to which the Trump administration’s policy of detaining children to frighten their parents must now be added.

The Trump administration’s purposeful separation of families has roused the ghosts that haunt America. In the antebellum United States, abolitionists seized on the separation of families by slave traders to indict the institution of slavery itself. Family separation was a key part of Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, which so affected some readers that, the historian Heather Andrea Williams writes in Help Me to Find My People, they went to slave auctions to bear witness: “Some travelers wanted to see for themselves the scenes that Stowe described in the novel, and they likened the people they saw to her characters.”

For the enslaved, who lived lives of toil and hardship as chattel, the forced division of families was among the most agonizing experiences they ever suffered or witnessed.

Solomon Northup, who had lived his entire life as a free black man in the North before being abducted into slavery in 1841, was confined alongside a woman named Eliza and her two children, Emily and Randall. Emily was the child of Eliza’s former master, who tricked her into believing she was about to be freed, and then sold them all to a trader, whose slave pen was a short distance from the U.S. Capitol.

The four were taken to New Orleans. Randall was bought by a Baton Rouge planter. Days later, Eliza and Northup were sold together, ripping Eliza away from Emily. Northup, who himself endured 12 years of bondage, called it one of the worst things he ever witnessed.“I have seen mothers kissing for the last time the faces of their dead offspring; I have seen them looking down into the grave, as the earth fell with a dull sound upon their coffins, hiding them from their eyes forever; but never have I seen such an exhibition of intense, unmeasured, and unbounded grief, as when Eliza was parted from her child,” Northup wrote in 1853.

Eliza never saw her children again. “Day nor night, however, were they ever absent from her memory. In the cotton field, in the cabin, always and everywhere, she was talking of them—often to them, as if they were actually present,” Northup wrote. “Only when absorbed in that illusion, or asleep, did she ever have a moment’s comfort afterwards.”

Henry Brown, nicknamed “Box” because he later escaped slavery by hiding himself in a box, watched his daughter being carted off after he failed to earn enough to purchase his family’s freedom. “I looked, and beheld her familiar face; but O, reader, that glance of agony! may God spare me ever again enduring the excruciating horror of that moment!,” Brown said in an account published in 1816.

She passed, and came near to where I stood. I seized hold of her hand, intending to bid her farewell; but words failed me; the gift of utterance had fled, and I remained speechless. I followed her for some distance, with her hand grasped in mine, as if to save her from her fate, but I could not speak, and I was obliged to turn away in silence.

The children who survived such separations were marked forever. Williams recounts the story of Charles Ball, who watched his family members being sold off to different masters when he was only 4. “Young as I was, the horrors of that day sank deeply into my heart, and even at this time, though a half a century has elapsed, the terrors of the scene return with painful vividness upon my memory,” Ball would write later. Louis Hughes, a former slave from Virginia, would write, “I grieved continually about my mother … It came to me, more and more plainly, that I would never see her again. Young and lonely as I was, I could not help crying, oftentimes for hours together. It was hard to get used to being away from my mother.” The great orator and former slave Frederick Douglass was at a loss for words when describing the anguish of his early separation from his mother:

It has been a life-long, standing grief to me, that I knew so little of my mother; and that I was so early separated from her. The counsels of her love must have been beneficial to me. The side view of her face is imaged on my memory, and I take few steps in life, without feeling her presence; but the image is mute, and I have no striking words of hers treasured up.

Although defenders of slavery would argue that black people felt no pain from such separations, the slave masters themselves understood the coercive power of shattering family bonds. “Often we were reminded,” wrote Lewis Johnson, a former slave in Virginia, “that if we were not good the white people would sell us to Georgia, which place we dreaded above all others on earth.”

After emancipation, freed people would travel hundreds of miles, in an era where such journeys were difficult and perilous, for the smallest chance to find their lost loved ones. The historian Eric Foner quotes a Freedmen’s Bureau agent who observed that in the eyes of former slaves, “the work of emancipation was incomplete until the families which had been dispersed by slavery were reunited.” For many, perhaps most, it would never be complete.

American immigration policy under trump is not chattel slavery. The children being separated from their families, and the parents being detained as they pick up their children from school, attend church, or go to work, are not being forced into lives of involuntary servitude as property, or passing their condition to their offspring in perpetuity.

Yet the uncomfortable echoes of America’s past with its present are difficult to ignore. There is the intentional cruelty inflicted on the innocent and the denial of that cruelty; the insistence that those targeted by law enforcement are less human than those implementing the law; and the assertion of the primacy of federal law over the wishes of communities to be sanctuaries for all their people. To preserve the political and cultural preeminence of white Americans against a tide of demographic change, to keep America more white and less brown, the Trump administration has settled on a policy of systemic child abuse intended to intimidate prospective immigrants into submission.

And then, as now, it is this particular feature of a broader system that has roused public outrage as little else has done. Defenders of slavery understood the threat such outrage posed and rushed to quell it. Thomas Jefferson wrote that black people simply didn’t feel pain the same way white people did. “Their griefs are transient. Those numberless afflictions, which render it doubtful whether Heaven has given life to us in mercy or in wrath, are less felt, and sooner forgotten with them,” Jefferson wrote in Notes on the State of Virginia in 1785. “In general, their existence appears to participate more of sensation than reflection.”

“With regard to the separation of husbands and wives, parents and children, nothing can be more untrue than the inferences drawn from what is so constantly harped on by abolitionists,” James Henry Hammond, among the most prominent apologists for slavery, wrote in 1845.

Some painful instances perhaps may occur. Very few that can be prevented. It is, and it always has been, an object of prime consideration with our slaveholders, to keep families together. Negroes are themselves both perverse and comparatively indifferent about this matter. Sometimes it happens that a negro prefers to give up his family rather than separate from his master. I have known such instances. As to wilfully selling off a husband, or wife, or child, I believe it is rarely, very rarely done, except when some offence has been committed demanding “transportation.”

It was the same tripartite denial offered by Trump officials and defenders: separations are rare and not systemic, they may leave children better off, and the maintenance of law and order demands that they take place. But then, as now, the defense was at odds with reality. From 1815 to 1820, New Orleans alone “saw 2,646 sales of children under the age of thirteen, of whom 1,001 were sold separately from any family member,” the historian Edward Baptist wrote in The Half Has Never Been Told. “Their average age was nine. Many were younger—some much younger.”

Just as Sessions reached for Romans 13 to justify the policy of family separation, so did the South’s theologians, such as Thornton Stringfellow, insist that scripture bestowed “the authority, from God himself, to hold men and women, and their increase, in slavery, and to transmit them as property forever.”

Although the Confederacy and its defenders would later seek to cast their cause as a defense of states’ rights rather than a defense of slavery, slavery apologists insisted that federal law allowed slave catchers to pursue their human quarry even into states where slavery had been outlawed. In 1850, Congress passed the Fugitive Slave Act, which required public officials to assist in the capture of escaped black people or be subject to hefty fines. Attempts by local officials to provide sanctuary for those fleeing bondage were thus preempted by the federal government; local communities were drawn into a system that tore apart families in the name of preserving order.

“Moderate Republican newspapers, including the New York Times,” Foner writes, “criticized the Fugitive Slave Act but insisted on adherence to the rule of law.” Choosing procedural objections over clear moral stances, though, did not spare the Union. Even in free states, Americans were forced to confront their own complicity in maintaining an institution that took children from their parents. Slavery’s defenders, for their part, were driven deeper into denial.

“If they acknowledged that these black people were people just like them, who hurt as they did when they lost their loved ones,” Heather Andrea Williams writes, “and if they faced them in their grief, then they might not be able to live with themselves.”

Barack obama’s administrationspent years pursuing record numbers of deportations while exempting certain categories of undocumented immigrants from deportation. In some cases, it even deported unaccompanied minors. But at the same time, the Obama administration supported a pathway to legal status for undocumented immigrants in the United States. Obama’s defenders would no doubt argue that he paired harsh enforcement as a strategy for bringing Republicans to the table on an immigration deal. But that would not erase the suffering caused by Obama’s policies, in pursuit of a deal that was never made.

Yet the Obama administration’s willingness to allow millions of undocumented immigrants to seek citizenship is not simply a minor difference with the Trump administration. It illustrates a stark difference in motivation. Trump’s harsh policies are the product of his view that Latin American immigrants will “infest”the U.S., changing the character of the country. It is a racialized view of citizenship, one that perceives white Americans as the nation’s rightful inheritors and the rest of us as interlopers. It is a worldview both antithetical to the American creed and inseparable from its execution.

I suspect that part of what horrifies Americans is not the novelty of Trump’s policy, but its familiarity. Americans are fighting a part of themselves that they naively thought they had vanquished. From chattel slavery to American Indian schools to convict leasing, child-snatching has been a tradition in America since before there was an America. If one is convinced that the parents are not truly human, then the children cannot truly be children, and what should be unthinkable becomes inevitable.

The sins of the past are not guardrails. There is nothing to prevent them from being committed again, except for the dedication of the living to creating a better world. The people in the past who convinced themselves to do unspeakable things were no less human than you or I. They made their decisions; the only thing that prevents history from repeating itself is making different ones.

“It is not the fault of the slaveholder that he is cruel, so much as it is the fault of the system under which he lives. He cannot withstand the influence of habit and associations that surround him,” Solomon Northup wrote. The architects of the Trump administration’s family-separation policy have no such excuse; they have purposefully chosen to enhance the cruelty of the system they inherited. The president insists in his defense that America must have borders, but America had borders before the Trump administration began deliberately shattering families to make a point.

That alone should illustrate the depth of their conviction. Few of the Trump administration’s policies better exemplify the Trump campaign’s commitment to restoring America’s traditional hierarchies of race, religion, and gender, than family separation. That commitment—and Republicans’ muted opposition to or vigorous support of the administration’s actions —has plunged the United States into a profound moral crisis that will define the nation’s character for decades to come. To harden oneself against the cries of children is no simple task. It requires a coldness to suffering that will not be easily thawed. The scars it inflicts on American civic culture will not heal quickly, and they will never completely fade.

Americans should have fathomed the depth of the crisis Trump would cause in 2016, but many chose denial, ridiculing those who spoke the plain meaning of Trumpism as oversensitive. Since then, Trump has failed the people of Puerto Rico in the wake of Hurricane Maria; deliberately revoked the immigration status of hundreds of thousands of black and Latino immigrants; retreated from civil-rights enforcement; applied an immigration ban to a set of predominantly Muslim countries; attempted to turn black athletes into pariahs for protesting the unjust killings of their countrymen by the state; and defended the white nationalists who terrorized Charlottesville, Virginia. The separation of children from their families at the border in order to punish children for their parents’ decision to seek a better life America, as the forebears of millions of Americans once did, has now clarified for many what should have been obvious before.

People who would do this to children would do anything to anyone. Before this is over, they will be called to do worse.

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