#ive had him for like 13 years hes my son at this point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

all-the-things-2020 · 3 months

Text

Father Figure

Summary: Poe and Finn have retired from active duty with the Resistance and are living on Yavin IV wit their kids, Shara and Ben. Poe faces a bit of a mid life crisis after his father suffers a frightening injury.

Features characters from my other series “Finding His Way” who have made minor appearances in other stories in this series.

Word Count: 12,700+

Rating: PG-13

“Get back here!,” Poe cried as he tried (and failed) to catch his son, who ran gleefully naked out of the ‘fresher and headed for the front door. “You’re taking a bath, Ben, and that’s that.”

Ben giggled and ducked behind the couch. “Hiding, Papa. You not find me,”

Poe got down on the floor and reached behind the couch but the toddler was just out of reach. “Come on, now,” he said, even though he knew that trying to reason with a two year old was a lost cause. “You need to take a bath, son. Then we’ll put on some clean clothes and go visit Grandpa. Okay?”

Ben plopped down on the floor and slid one chubby little arm under the couch. He pulled out a toy X-wing with dust bunnies caught on its turrets. “Zoom, pew, pew, pew,” Ben said, making the X-wing swoop around above his head.

Poe sighed. Maybe it was time to bring in the big guns. “Shara!,” he cried. “Your brother is being stubborn.”

Four-year-old Shara Dameron entered the room, her hands on her hips and a disgusted look on her face. Her hair was done in two poufy pigtails today but they did nothing to take away from the seriousness of her demeanor. “Ben Dameron, you get out here right now,” she demanded. “If you don’t take your bath, we’ll be late and Grandpa will be sad. And you won’t get no sugar sand cookies.”

“Any,” Poe automatically corrected, getting an eye roll in return. Shara was very well spoken but like any tiny human, she often made grammatical errors. Unlike most tiny humans, she hated having her errors pointed out with a passion that bordered on the absurd.

Ben slowly eased his way toward Poe, not willing to face his sister’s wrath even though he’d be more than happy to defy his papa. “Gotcha!” Poe said, snagging the naked boy and holding him tight. Ben giggled and Shara nodded firmly.

“Silly boy,” she said, before turning and leaving the room. She probably had a conference of her dolls and stuffed animals going on in her bedroom. Her favorite game right now was Senate, where she lined all her toys up and lectured them on how the galaxy should be run. Some days, Poe thought he should take her to Coruscant and turn her loose on the real Senate; she’d whip them into shape in no time, but then again, she’d probably end up seizing control and plunging the galaxy in another empire, one run by Her Royal Highness Princess Shara Rey Dameron.

Now that he had Ben corralled, Poe hurried him into the ‘fresher and into the waiting bathtub. “How in the world do you get so dirty?,” he asked as he gently scrubbed his son with the washcloth. The boy’s soft brown skin was noticeably lighter in hue by the time Poe was done with him.

“Making a cave,” Ben explained. “For the Banthas.” He’d gotten a pair of very well-made toy Banthas a few weeks ago, a present from Auntie Rey, and he’d decided they needed a proper enclosure to live in, like the animals at the zoo on Oshis that Finn and Poe had taken the children to for Shara’s last birthday.

When Ben was clean, Poe dressed him in fresh clothes and warned him not to crawl around under any furniture before they left. Now they just had to wait for Finn to get home and they could set off for Grandpa Kes’s house.

Now that they were retired from the Resistance, Finn and Poe lived in a small house about a half hour’s speeder ride from the Dameron ranch. Close enough for weekly visits with the grandkids, but far enough away that Poe didn’t feel like his father was constantly watching over his shoulder.

“Daddy!” Ben cried as the front door opened. Finn came in, dropping the bag he carried so that he could catch the flying missile that was his son.

“Hey, buddy, calm down,” Finn said. “I was only gone for an hour.” Ben clung to his leg anyway. Finn walked awkwardly across the room to kiss Poe.

“He’s mad at me because I made him take a bath,” Poe explained. “And I had to sic Shara on him to get him out from behind the couch.”

“Ooh, did Papa and Shara gang up on you?” Finn said, bending down to pick Ben up. The boy nodded solemnly.

“We had to,” Poe replied. “He was filthy. Grandpa would’ve taken one look at him and said, ‘Where’d you find that giant walking potato?’” He tickled Ben, just enough to make him laugh. The last time they’d been at the ranch, he’d been fascinated to watch Kes dig up potatoes and carrots in the garden.

Shara appeared in the room. “Yes,” she said firmly. “He was usgusting.”

“Disgusting,” Finn corrected. Shara gave him a look that would have withered most grown men, but since she’d inherited it from her daddy, it didn’t work on him. “Come on, kiddos, let’s get ready to go.”

Shara had her bag over her shoulder, filled to the brim with everything she wanted to show Grandpa this week. She always carefully packed it the day before a trip to see Kes so she wouldn’t forget anything.

Poe grabbed the bag of snacks and toys and face wipes that had to accompany Ben everywhere. Finn retrieved his bag, which was full of spices and other items that Kes had requested from town. Now that he had his sons handy to run errands for him, he went to town less often, spending more time on his garden and other hobbies around home.

***********************************

They all piled into the speeder, a spiffy refurbished model that Poe had tinkered with so much that there was probably only ten percent of the original engine left. He had painted it orange and black, like his beloved Black One, and even modified it to allow BB-8 to ride along as navigator. Right now the little droid was off planet with Rey, as it got bored, but after a few narrow escapes, it would be happy to come home again. Finn teased Poe that BB was his oldest child and that he (Finn) was its stepdad.

Poe let out the throttle once they were on the road that led into the countryside. Their house was in a neighborhood on the outskirts of town, close enough to the center for convenient shopping but far enough out that they had a good sized yard for the kids to play in. The narrower roads and strictly enforced speed limits chafed at Poe, and he always perked up once they were on the open highway.

Ben loved it, urging Papa to go faster, but Shara huddled against Finn, upset that her hair was getting messed up. She hated to have her hair in her face, and the wind always blew it around. “Papa, slow down!,” she demanded, but Poe never listened.

“You know Papa loves to go fast,” Finn told her, almost having to shout over the noise of the wind whipping past them. “It’s his favorite thing.”

Shara gave him a pointed look. “I’m his favorite thing,” she declared.

“Well, I’m sure you’re one of his favorite people,” Finn admitted, “but you’re not a thing are you?”

Shara considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Right, Daddy. I’m a people, not a thing. Ben is a thing.” She stuck her tongue out at her brother, who was oblivious as he held his arms up in the air and squealed with delight. Poe was laughing right along with him, and Finn shook his head.

“Ben is pretty silly, but he’s a people, too,” Finn said. “I mean, person.”

“Is BB a thing or a people?” Shara asked, starting to forget about her hair now that she was having a serious conversation with Daddy. Both of them liked to ponder the meaning of things, while Poe and Ben were more likely to just jump in and enjoy things without thinking too much about it.

“That’s a good question,” Finn said. “BB’s a droid, which is a machine, like this speeder, but he also has a personality. What do you think?”

Shara scrunched up her face as she thought about it. “A people, I think,” she said. “A metal people, not a skin people.”

Finn was impressed by her reasoning. “A metal person,” he mused. “I think Papa’s going to like that.” He tucked her closer under his arm, doing his best to shield her from the wind. He watched Poe and Ben in the front seat. The boy was buckled safely into a child’s seat, looking like a miniature version of his papa when he’d flown a fighter. Poe steered with one hand, the other one draped around the back of Ben’s seat. He liked to see Poe relaxed like this, just enjoying himself. For all his pretense of being a happy-go-lucky pilot, Finn knew that Poe fretted about things too much sometimes. It had made him a good General and it made him a good father and husband, but sometimes Finn had to remind him to lighten up.

They arrived at Kes’s place all too soon for Poe and Ben, and not soon enough for Shara. “My hair, Papa!,” she scolded as he slowed the speeder at the gate. “You messed it up. Grandpa will think I’m ugly.”

Poe turned in his seat to face her. “Hey, you’re never ugly, princess,” he said seriously. “Even if your hair is all over the place like mine.” He ran his hand through his wind-tousled hair, making it stand up in a million directions, and made a silly face.

Shara rolled her eyes. “Silly Papa,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Daddy, make him comb his hair before Grandpa sees.”

Finn fixed Poe’s hair as best he could with his fingers. “That’ll have to do, I guess,” he said, frowning at his work. “We’ll just tell Grandpa that Papa stuck his finger in a power socket or something.”

Ben laughed. “Zap!,” he said, pointing at Poe. “Papa got zapped!”

Poe just shook his head, and unbuckled Ben from his seat. “Thanks for that,” he said to Finn. “Now he’s going to run around zapping people all day.” Finn just winked. They were at Grandpa’s and the kids would be running around like maniacs anyway.

Right on cue, Kes appeared in the doorway of the house. “Where are my favorite grandchildren?,” he yelled. Ben squirmed out of Poe’s grasp and launched himself out of the speeder. Shara waited for Finn to lift her out and place her gently on the ground, but she joined her brother in sprinting for Grandpa. Her longer legs let her close the gap and she was the first to reach Kes, leaping into his arms while Ben settled for wrapping himself around Kes’s leg just like he’d done to Finn earlier.

“Grandpa, Papa’s hair is a mess,” Shara said. “And Daddy and me invented metal people, and BB is one, and Ben is a silly boy, he didn’t want to take a bath and I had to help Papa make him.”

Kes kissed her cheek. “All that happened today?,” he said. “You’ve had a busy day. Maybe you should take a nap now.”

“No!,” both children cried. “We’re not tired,” Shara continued. “We have lots of power!”

“Zap!” Ben added.

“Good luck, Dad,” Poe said. “They’re your responsibility for at least two hours. Finn and I are going to check on the Tree.” He slid his arm around Finn’s waist. “Checking on the Tree” was code for “taking a walk and finding a nice spot to make out.” With two children at home and various projects for the Resistance and Republic taking up their spare time, they didn’t get many chances during the week to be alone.

Kes rolled his eyes. “You just want to foist your responsibilities on me, lazy bones,” he said. “He was like this as a kid, you know. ‘Dad, can I get a tooka? I’ll look after it. I promise.’ And who ended up cleaning up after it and taking it for walks and …”

Poe held up a hand. “That was just the one time, and I was ten years old. I think I’ve matured a bit since then.”

Finn snorted. “Not much,” he said. Poe stuck his tongue out at him. “Oh, very mature, babe.”

“Go, go,” Kes said. “Leave me to enjoy these adorable grandkids while you go do … whatever it is you do when you ‘check on the Tree.’”

He disappeared into the house and Poe tightened his arm around Finn’s waist. “The Tree awaits, my darling Jedi,” he murmured. Finn rolled his eyes. He knew full well they weren’t going anywhere near the Force Tree. And even if they did, Finn wasn’t planning to be doing anything remotely Jedi-like.

They settled down on a little bench that Poe had cobbled together a few months ago from a couple of stumps and some old boards. It was tucked away off the path, screened from sight by a clump of fan-leaved shrubs that bloomed with brilliant pink flowers once a year. Right now, they were simply the vibrant green that marked most of the jungle plants that inhabited this part of Yavin IV.

“I think this is my favorite part of the week,” Poe said, pulling Finn’s head down onto his shoulder. “I love the kids, I really do, but it’s nice to have a bit of time off from being a dad.”

Finn hummed in agreement. He nuzzled his face into Poe’s neck and slipped an arm behind Poe’s back. The bench was built with a slight incline to the back, so it was easy to snuggle together. “And Dad loves spending time with them,” Finn said after a moment. “I think if he saw them more often, he’d be as tired of them as we are.”

Poe chuckled. “They aren’t that bad,” he said, shifting against the bench so that Finn was more or less lying in his lap. This removed Finn’s arm from behind his back, but it meant that Finn’s fingers were now free to thread between Poe’s and that was a good trade off.

“I had a comm from the education board,” Finn said quietly. “They want us to make an appointment to bring Shara in for testing.”

Poe grunted. He was not entirely sure he wanted to send Shara to school next year. He’d been bored out of his mind during his time in the Yavinian school system, and he didn’t think it had changed much in the intervening years. “So they can just nod and stick her in the first level class anyway because it’s ‘good for social development’ to keep her with kids her own age,” he scoffed. “I think we should keep home schooling her. She already knows how to read and she’s doing basic arithmetic; she’s ahead of most of the kids her age.”

“I know,” Finn said, “but I think it would be good for her to spend time with other kids. Yeah, we have the neighborhood play group but that’s only one day a week, and otherwise she’s only got Ben to play with.”

“She’s got us, and Dad,” Poe replied. It was more than he’d had as a kid, especially after his mother died.

Finn tilted his head back to look Poe in the eye. “You had a regular childhood, babe,” he said. “I didn’t. I want our kids to grow up as normally as possible.”

Poe squeezed Finn’s hand tight and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I know,” he said softly. “I just don’t want her to get bored and blow off school like I did.” He shook his head. “The only part I liked was lunch and recess, when I could play with my friends. At least, until I got older ….”

Once out of the primary levels, Poe had floundered a bit. When they were small, he and his friends had all found girls “yucky” and “gross” but as puberty hit, he realized that most of his friends secretly liked the attention the girls gave them. He was puzzled, especially after a secret holo had started circulating that included the image of a naked woman and he was at a complete loss as to why it was so titillating. He’d faked interest, and tried his best to change the subject to something more interesting, like engines or starships. Until he’d stumbled onto a holonovel about two young men who were more than just friends …

He pulled himself out of his reverie. “I just think Shara won’t be intellectually challenged in the local school,” he said. “We’re perfectly capable of teaching her until she gets to the higher levels and then she can do distance learning, or we can hire tutors, or she can even go to an off-world school when she’s older.”

“Or maybe she can go to school with all her friends and we can supplement the curriculum,” Finn said. He sighed. “Listen to us … our only alone time all week and we’re arguing about something that’s not even going to happen for a year at least. I know what we should be doing ….” He turned around in Poe’s arms so that he was facing him, straddling Poe’s lap.

“Now that’s an idea I can support,” Poe said with a grin. He wrapped his arms around Finn, pulling his close for a leisurely kiss. He’d let one hand slide down to cup Finn’s ass when suddenly Finn sat up like he’d been stung by something. “What is it, babe? A vex wasp?” The insects were not all that common but it was the right season for them and they packed a nasty sting.

“No,” Finn said. “I don’t know … something’s wrong. We need to get back to the house.” He grabbed Poe’s hand and tugged him to his feet, then took off back up the trail. Poe knew better than to question Finn’s intuition; he wasn’t as strong in the Force as Rey was but he still had a good connection to all of his family members, so if he sensed something wrong with Kes or the kids, they needed to check it out.

Shara was screaming at the top of her lungs, and they ran as fast as they could once they could hear her. “Daddy! Papa! Help! Grandpa’s hurt!”

Poe felt his blood run cold. “Shit,” he cried, pushing himself to run faster than Finn, even though his husband was younger and had the performance enhancing powers of the Force at his disposal. He had to get to his dad as soon as possible.

They skidded into the yard, Poe nearly losing his balance as he danced over the uneven stepping stones that Kes had been in the process of leveling out last week. Shara saw him and darted forward, tears streaking her face. “Grandpa fell off the ladder,” she cried.

“Where?” Finn said, dropping to one knee in front of her. Poe stood, head swiveling, looking around for Kes.

“The play tree,” Shara said, pointing off toward the garden shed. Behind it was a small tree that Kes had promised to build a treehouse in. It was only about thirty feet tall, nothing compared to the Force Tree or some of the jungle giants in the surrounding forest, but tall enough that a fall from it could be dangerous, especially for someone of Kes’s age.

Poe bolted for the tree, where he found Ben sitting on the ground, holding Kes’s hand. Kes himself was splayed on the ground. Poe fell to his knees beside him. “Dad! Dad!,” he said. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Kes groaned. “I was on the ladder, showing the kids where I’d laid the boards for the floor of the treehouse,” he said. “I fell. Not sure if the ladder slipped or I did.” He winced. “I think I broke my hip, or at least bruised the hell out of it.”

Poe closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Damn it, broken hips can be dangerous for older people. Not that he liked to think of his father as elderly, but the fact was that Kes wasn’t as young as he used to be. None of them were. He ran a hand through his hair, which he knew sported more gray than it had just a month ago. “Okay, okay,” he said, pulling Ben closer as the little boy started to cry.

“Grandpa fell,” he sobbed. “It hurts.”

Poe paused for a second. Was Ben telling him that Kes was in pain or that he was? Was he feeling Kes’s pain, or did he mean that he was sad? Because of Finn’s Force sensitivity there was a good chance one or either of the kids might inherit the ability from him. And since Ben had spent nine months inside a Jedi’s body, thanks to Rey’s offer to act as surrogate for them after the disaster on Trelor, Poe’s money was on him to follow in Daddy’s footsteps. Well, there had been two Jedis named Ben that Poe knew of and one was good while the other … he wasn’t going to let his mind go there, especially not right now.

Finn ran up, waving a comm link in his hand. “I’ve got emergency services on the comm,” he said. “Do we need a med team?”

“Med evac, I think,” Poe said grimly. “Dad thinks he might have broken his hip.”

“It certainly feels like it,” Kes said, hissing through his teeth as he tried to shift his position.

“Stop moving,” Poe said, laying a hand on Kes’s shoulder. He had Ben tucked under one arm and now was holding his father down with the other. He looked up at Finn, who was relaying his words to Em Ser. “Where’s Shara?”

Finn dropped to his knees. “Med evac will be here shortly,” he said. “And Shara’s on the back porch. She said it was too scary to see Grandpa.” He reached down to squeeze Kes’s hand. “I told her it was okay and she could stay there as long as she doesn’t leave the porch.” Ben wiggled out from under Poe’s arm and crawled into Finn’s lap.

“Daddy, it hurts. Grandpa hurts.”

Finn raised an eyebrow at Poe, who couldn’t do more than shrug. With Ben safely in Finn’s care, he could turn his full attention to his father. “How you doing, old man?,” he asked, trying for a playful tone and only succeeding in not sobbing outright.

“I’m not old,” Kes grumbled back, but his face was pale with pain and Poe noticed that there were a lot more wrinkles than he’d remembered. “And I feel like hell, thank you very much.”

Poe smiled. If he was grumpy, Kes was alright. They all sat in silence for a few minutes, until the sound of the med evac shuttle grew louder. It landed softly a few hundred meters away, on the edge of the clearing and three med techs hurried over. Poe and Finn were gently pushed away as the techs assessed and prepped Kes for transport.

“We have room for one passenger,” one of the techs said.

“You go,” Finn said. “I’ll stay with the kids, get them settled, and then get to the hospital as soon as I can.”

“You sure?” Poe asked. He wanted to be with his dad but he also didn’t want to assume anything. Finn had a strong bond with Kes, too.

“Of course,” Finn said, stroking a tear off of Poe’s face with his thumb. He hadn’t even realized he was crying. “Go. Look after Dad and I’ll follow when I can.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Poe managed to croak out before he started crying in earnest. He tousled Ben’s hair. “Tell Shara I’ll hold Grandpa’s hand for her.” He scrambled to his feet and followed the floating gurney that was already halfway to the shuttle. “I’ll comm you as soon as I know anything,” he called over his shoulder.

Finn waved with his free arm, the other wrapped tightly around Ben, who had his face buried in his shirt. Poe felt his heart clench at the thought of what the kids must be going through. This was the first medical emergency they’d ever experienced and it had to be terrifying. “It’ll be okay, kiddos,” he whispered as he climbed into the med evac shuttle. “I promise.” He just hoped it wasn’t a promise he’d have to break.

They wouldn’t tell him anything. Poe was about to go look for someone in charge and demand answers when a nurse finally came into the waiting room. “Mr. Dameron,” she said, her Caamasi snout stumbling over the name.

“Yes,” Poe said, jumping to his feet.

“The doctor would like to speak with you,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her through the door. The woodsy scent of her fur relaxed him a bit as they walked down the corridor.

The doctor was human, a tall balding man with pale skin and green eyes. What hair he still had was reddish-brown. “I’m Doctor Crix Hamne,” he said, holding out his hand for Poe to shake. “We’ve finished preliminary scans on your father and as he suspected, he suffered a fractured hip. It’s a hairline fracture but fairly long, so we’re going to place a couple of small pins to hold the bones in place while it heals. We’re prepping him for surgery right now. It’ll be an hour or two before we’re finished and he’s recovered enough to talk to you.”

Poe relaxed a bit. “Thank you,” he said. “So … he’ll be okay?”

Dr. Hamne sighed softly. “I can’t promise anything, because of the inherent risks of any type of surgery, but barring any complications, yes, he should be just fine.” He smiled gently. “He‘ll be on bed rest for several weeks while he heals, and need physiotherapy after that but I don’t foresee any dramatic alteration in his motor abilities.”

Poe must have looked a bit confused, because Hamne went on. “In other words, he should be able to walk just fine, but he might have a bit of a limp.”

Poe sighed with relief. A slight limp Kes could deal with. He’d been afraid his father might be confined to a hover chair, which would have broken his heart. Kes liked to be active, even if he didn’t do anything very strenuous. Not being able to putter around the ranch would end him.

“Go make yourself comfortable in the waiting room,” Dr. Hamne went on. “We’ll call you when he’s out of recovery so you can see him.”

Poe went back into the starkly lit room. The couches were lumpy and it took him awhile to find a spot that was halfway comfortable. He pulled out his comm device and punched in Finn’s ID.

“Hey, how’s Dad?” Finn said as soon as the comm connected. It was a voice-only link but that was okay for now.

“He’ll be okay,” Poe said wearily. “He did break his hip but they said it’s not too bad. He’s in surgery now to put in a couple of pins, and they’ll let me see them when he’s out of recovery. How are the kids?”

He heard Finn sigh. “They’re … taking it a bit hard. Shara keeps crying, because she's convinced it’s all her fault. She says she wasn't watching him because she was busy arguing with Ben and if she’d been watching she could have warned him. And Ben keeps telling me it hurts but he can’t explain what he means.” He paused for a long moment. “I think I’d better stay here with them, babe. I was going to get someone to watch them, but they need me.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Poe said, not sure whether he should tell Finn his suspicions about Ben now or wait until they could speak in person. “Stay there and I’ll comm again when Dad’s awake. Maybe you can bring the kids down here to see him then. It might help them to see him feeling better.”

“That’s a great idea,” Finn said, relief evident in his voice. “I’m sorry I can’t be there with you, but ….”

“I know,” Poe said. “You’ve gotta take care of the kids. I understand. I’ll comm you as soon as I can.” He ended the connection and sat back with a deep sigh, running his hands over his face. It was going to be a long day.

*****************************************

Finn finally got Shara calmed down by reassuring her that she hadn’t done anything wrong and in fact had helped immensely by taking charge after the accident. She’d made Ben sit with Kes and hold his hand while she ran as far as she was allowed to go in the yard and yelled for him and Poe. “If you hadn’t called us, we wouldn’t have gotten there so fast,” he told her, glossing over the fact that he’d felt her distress rather than heard her voice. “Because of you, we got help for Grandpa much faster. I’m proud of you.” She seemed skeptical but stopped crying, her breath hitching now and then as she recovered.

Ben, on the other hand, would not be comforted. “It hurts, Daddy,” he kept saying. “It hurts.” When he asked where it hurt, the boy just shrugged. “Grandpa hurts,” he said, finally. “Right here.” He pointed at his left hip, the same one that Kes had injured. Finn cuddled him close, trying to soothe him as best he could.

Ben had started to doze off when the comm buzzed. Finn snatched the device off the side table. “Yeah,” he said.

“He’s out of surgery,” Poe said, his voice haggard. “Everything went well and he should be awake in about twenty minutes. They said the kids can see him if they want to.”

“That’s wonderful,” Finn said. “Hey, kiddos, Grandpa’s okay and we can go see him now if we want to.”

Shara leaped into his lap. “Yes!,” she cried. “I want to see him. I’ll bring him some flowers. And a picture. I have to draw him a picture!” She scrambled down and dashed for her bedroom.

“Grandpa’s okay?” Ben asked quietly, sniffling a little.

“Yeah, baby,” Finn said. “Do you want to go see him?” Ben nodded, then tucked his head back into Finn’s side.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” he told Poe. “Shara wants to draw a picture and they both need their faces washed.”

He ended the comm link and swept Ben up into his arms. “Do you want to draw Grandpa a picture, too?” Ben shook his head.

“Okay, then let’s get you cleaned up while Shara does her picture,” he said.

It took longer than he wanted to get both kids washed and ready to go. Shara drew a picture, decided it was rubbish, and drew another one. Then she had to dash out to the garden to pick some flowers. Then Finn had to redo her hair so it wouldn’t get messed up by the wind during the speeder ride. Then Ben needed to use the potty (they were in the midst of potty training, so Finn didn’t want to cause a set back) and once they were all buckled in, Shara needed the potty as well. Finally, everyone was clean, bladders were empty, and they were ready to go.

The speeder ride back to town was more somber than the ride out, partly because Finn was a much more cautious pilot than Poe was. Not that Finn was a bad pilot — he’d learned a thing or two from Rey and Poe over the years — but flying was not as instinctive to him and he needed to concentrate on it a bit more. With two kids in the back seat (Ben pouting because he wanted to be up front again), his attention was already diverted from the road.

They arrived at the hospital just as the kids started to whine in earnest. Finn unbuckled them both, slung Ben onto his hip and led Shara by the hand. She clutched her picture and a wilting bouquet of flowers in her other hand. “Slow down, Daddy,” she complained.

“Sorry, baby girl,” he said. He was eager to see Kes and was setting too fast a pace for her little legs. He slowed down and told himself to relax.

Once inside the lobby, he was directed to a wing on the third floor, which meant a ride in the lift. Ben insisted on pushing the button even though the large 3 was low enough that Shara could reach it. Finn bent down so that Ben could reach the button, and shot Shara a look when she stuck her tongue out at her brother. “Hey, behave yourselves,” he warned quietly. “Grandpa won’t want to see you if you’re being a brat.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Shara said meekly, which immediately raised Finn’s suspicions. Either she was still traumatized by the accident or she had a cunning plan. He hoped it was the former, then admonished himself for wishing pain on his baby girl.

The lift doors slid open and Shara darted out. “Papa!,” she cried, fairly leaping into Poe’s arms.

“Shh, princess,” he said as he hugged her tight. “It’s a hospital. We can’t shout.”

“Where’s Grandpa?” Shara whispered.

“He’s in a nice quiet room,” Poe said, shifting her onto his hip so he could lean forward and give Finn a quick kiss. He looked like hell, but Finn supposed that was only to be expected. “We’ll go see him in just a minute.”

Poe led them over to a couch in the hallway and sat down, snuggling Shara in his lap. Finn sat down as best he could with Ben still clinging to him like a bur. “Now Grandpa looks a little scary right now,” Poe said carefully. “The doctors have him hooked up to some machines so they can measure things like how fast his heart is beating and how well he’s breathing. It’s just to make sure he feels okay after they fixed him up. They had to put a piece of metal in his hip so it will stay very, very still while the bones heal up. To do that they had to make him sleep really hard, and he’s still kind of sleepy because of the medicine they gave him.” He leaned forward to stroke Ben’s hair back from his face. “If you get scared, that’s okay, but it’s just Grandpa, remember that.”

Ben nodded. “He still hurts?”

Poe nodded back. “Yeah, a little, but not as bad as he did. The doctors gave him medicine for it.” He glanced up at Finn, an odd look in his eye. “Do you feel it, Ben?”

The boy nodded slowly. “Do you think …?” Finn said as an idea started to form in his mind.

Poe’s eyes widened as he nodded again. “Yeah, I think so,” he said softly. Finn hugged Ben a bit tighter. Are you like me? Like Auntie Rey? Ben ducked his head against Finn’s chest and they let it go.

“Come on,” Poe said brightly, his voice just a bit brittle. The kids probably didn’t notice it, but Finn did. “Let’s go see Grandpa!”

******************************************************

Kes lay back in the hospital bed, looking incredibly small and old. His eyes were closed and the blinking lights from the medical monitors, combined with the soothing lighting made him look both pale and flushed at the same time. As the door slid open, though, he opened his eyes and seemed to grow three inches and lose thirty years as he caught sight of his grandchildren.

“There they are!,” Kes said. His voice already sounded stronger than it had when Poe spoke with him half an hour ago. “Did I scare you, kiddos? I’m sorry if I did.”

Shara squirmed her way out of Poe’s arms and crawled up onto the bed. “I made you a picture, and here’s some flowers,” she said, shoving both into Kes’s face. “And I brought you a kiss.” She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, then immediately started explaining the picture to him.

Finn practically had to pry Ben loose from his shirt. “Hey, kiddo, it’s just Grandpa.” Kes reached out his hand and squeezed Ben’s foot, which was the only thing he could easily reach.

“Look at me, Ben,” Kes said. “I’m fine. The doctors fixed me up.”

Ben slowly looked around and Poe felt his heart clench at the fear in the little boy’s eyes. “You not hurt?,” he whispered.

“Not much,” Kes admitted. “It still hurts a little bit but not like it did. And they gave me medicine to make it stop.”

Ben pondered that for a moment and then seemed to make up his mind. “I hug you,” he said, detaching himself from Finn and wrapping his arms around Kes’s neck.

“Not too hard,” Finn admonished, but Poe shook his head. Let the kid hug his grandpa as hard as he wanted; Poe knew how scary it was to lose (or almost lose) a family member when you were small.

Shara was the one who shoved Ben out of the way, demanding her own opportunity to hug Kes. “I get to hug him, too,” she said. Ben stuck his tongue out at her and that was when Poe knew he’d be all right. Sibling rivalry for the win.

Poe stood back, letting Finn and the kids visit. He and Kes had had their own chance to talk and he hadn’t quite recovered from it. He’d broken down and cried when he saw Kes’s eyes open.

“I thought I was going to lose you, Dad,” he’d sobbed. Kes had let him cry, holding tightly onto his hand until the tears had run their course.

“It’ll take a lot more than a tumble off a ladder to take me down, son,” Kes had said. The words were strong but the voice was weak, still raspy from the breathing tubes that had forced dry, medicated air into his lungs.

“I know,” Poe had said, forcing himself to laugh. They’d talked about less stressful things after that, until a nurse came in to check on the IVs and shooed Poe out so that Kes could rest before the kids showed up.

He could see the tiredness creeping into Kes’s eyes even as he chatted brightly with Finn and the children. “Okay, guys, we should let Grandpa get some more rest,” Poe said reluctantly. “He’s had a big day.”

Both kids protested but Poe held firm and when they realized that Finn was going to back him up, they surrendered. They weren’t above pitting Daddy against Papa to get something they wanted, but they knew that when their fathers presented a united front, there was no chance of winning.

As they left the room, Shara and Ben bouncing down the hall in front of them, Finn slipped his arm around Poe’s waist. “How are you doing, babe?,” he whispered.

Poe laid his head on Finn’s shoulder. “Shattered,” he admitted. “Do you mind driving home?”

Finn barked out a laugh. “Poe Dameron, best pilot in the galaxy, doesn’t want to drive the speeder?,” he said. “Now I know you’re having a hard time.” He tightened his arm around Poe’s waist and pressed a kiss against his temple. “Yeah, no problem.”

Poe leaned into Finn’s embrace. “Thanks, babe. Hey, leave that alone!,” he shouted as he saw Ben reaching for a tempting vase of flowers on a table.

“Shara had flowers,” Ben pouted. Oh, yeah, he’s back to normal, Poe thought as he detached himself from Finn and hoisted Ben into his arms.

“No rest for the wicked,” Finn said with a wink. “Shara! Don’t push the button until we get there!” He scurried forward to make sure she didn’t board the lift without them. Poe stifled a laugh. Never a dull moment in the Dameron family, that was for sure.

Finn let Poe sleep late the next day. “Where’s Papa?” Ben asked when they sat down for breakfast.

“He’s still sleeping,” Finn told him. “Eat your breakfast.” He handed him a slice of toast slathered in nut butter.

Shara shoved a berry into her mouth. “Can we see Grandpa again?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Finn said. “And I have to call the hospital first to ask the doctor.” He wiped a smear of nut butter off of Ben’s face.

“Papa’s sad,” Ben said. It was a statement, not a question, and once again Finn wondered if the boy really was sensing things with the Force. He made a mental note to ask Rey about it when she arrived; he’d sent her a comm yesterday letting her know about Kes, and she’d replied overnight to say she and BB-8 would be on Yavin IV as soon as the Falcon could get them there.

“I’m not sad,” Poe said, staggering bleary eyed into the kitchen. “I’m just tired.” He yawned, rubbed his hand over his face and took the cup of kaf that Finn poured for him. “Thanks, babe.” He sat down at the table and downed half the cup in one go.

Ben shrugged and turned his attention back to his toast. Shara nibbled at her own toast as she pushed the bowl of berries in front of Poe. “You better eat, Papa, or Daddy will be mad,” she said, shooting a look in Finn’s direction.

Poe dutifully popped a berry into his mouth, and Finn fixed him a slice of toast, which Poe took one bite of and then left on the plate. He always lost his appetite when he was upset, relying too much on kaf and even stims to keep him going during the war. No point in trying to force him to eat right now, but Finn would make sure to make one of his favorite dishes for lunch.

“Auntie Rey sent a comm overnight,” Finn said. “She and BB will be here as soon as they can.” He turned to Poe. “Do you want to comm the hospital or should I do it?”

Poe took another large swallow of kaf. “Do you mind?” He still looked worn out.

“Not at all,” Finn said. “You kids finish your breakfast … and make sure Papa eats at least three more bites, okay?” Ben nodded and Shara picked out three of the biggest berries and lined them up on Poe’s plate, while Poe surreptitiously flipped him off. Chuckling to himself, Finn left the kitchen to comm the hospital.

**********************************

Poe tried to eavesdrop, but it was hard to listen to Finn’s half of the conversation with the nurse. Shara was explaining why the berries she’d chosen were the best ones for him to eat, as they would give him vitamins and the bright colors would make him happy. Ben stole his toast and took three bites out of it, before placing it back on his plate.

Poe winked at his son, and Ben giggled. “We fool Daddy,” he whispered.

Shara shook her head. “Papa needs to eat,” she insisted. “Three berries, Papa. I counted them for you. One, two, three.” Poe scooped the fruit into his hand and popped them all in his mouth at once, chewing ostentatiously. Shara giggled.

“Silly Papa,” Ben said. He grabbed a berry and imitated Poe, gnashing his teeth and smacking his lips. Shara tried to look offended but after about five seconds, she had a mouthful of berries as well and the three of them looked like a herd of nerfs that had stumbled onto a berry patch.

“Gross,” Finn said when he came back into the kitchen. “Who started this?”

Both kids squealed with laughter. “Papa!,” they shouted, while Poe tried to look innocent. It didn’t work; Finn reached out with a napkin to wipe berry juice from Poe’s unshaven chin.

“You’d all better get cleaned up,” he said. “The nurse said Grandpa can come home today if we promise to look after him.”

“I will look after him,” Shara declared. “I’ll read him a story and we’ll draw pictures, then I’ll make him take his medicine and bring him juice.”

“Okay, Nurse Shara,” Poe said. “You’re in charge of stories and medicine and snacks. Daddy, Ben and I can take care of the rest.”

Shara nodded. “It’s a plan,” she said firmly. Oh, stars, she’s like a tiny little Leia, Poe mused. I hope she never turns against us or we’re all doomed.

*************************************

“I’m fine,” Kes grumbled. “Just leave me be for a bit and get some rest. You’re making me tired.”

Finn grabbed Poe by the shoulders and turned him around. “Come on, leave Dad alone to get comfortable,” he said, slowly pushing him out of the guest room.

“But …,” Poe started to say. Finn clapped a hand over his mouth.

“No buts,” he said firmly. “He’s fine.”

The doctor and nurses had given them a long list of do’s and don’ts and made Kes promise to follow all the directions to the letter or risk being readmitted to the hospital. He was to remain in bed or use the hover chair for two weeks to allow the bones to start knitting. After that, he was to report to the hospital every day for several hours of physiotherapy.

Finn maneuvered Poe into the living room. “Dad’s not going to get any rest if you keep fussing over him,” he said, sitting Poe down on the couch. “The kids are playing in Shara’s room and Dad’s got a data pad full of books and holovids, so you can just relax.”

It lasted about five minutes. “I can’t sit still,” Poe complained. “I’m going to run out to Dad’s place, get some of his stuff.”

“Like what?,” Finn asked, folding his arms and staring Poe down. “He has everything he needs right here.”

“Clean clothes,” Poe said. “Underwear. His shaving kit.”

“We can buy all that here in town,” Finn said.

Poe sighed. “The holos of Mom,” he said softly. “That ratty old afghan he keeps on his bed.” The one Shara Bey had made for Poe when he was a baby.

Finn unfolded his arms and wrapped them around Poe, who leaned in and rested his head on Finn’s chest. “Yeah, maybe that is a good idea,” he whispered, rubbing Poe’s back. “He’s stuck here for two weeks, we should probably do what we can to make him feel more at home.” He held Poe out at arm’s length. “Okay, General, you have your mission. Hop to it!”

“Yes, sir, General, sir,” Poe said, throwing him a jaunty salute that turned into a rude gesture. Finn shook his head. As long as Poe was still able to avoid discussing his emotions by making a joke, he was okay. It was when Poe actually wanted to talk that Finn worried.

***************************

Poe took his time piloting the speeder out to the ranch. He had no plan besides getting out of the house and indulging in some time alone. He felt a bit guilty about leaving Finn with the kids and Kes to deal with, but if he didn’t get some time to himself, he was going to explode.

As he steered the speeder along the road, Poe let his mind wander. How many more times would he make the journey from the house in town to the ranch? How long would Kes be able to live out there all alone? He sighed. At some point, he knew, Kes would no longer be able to live by himself, and Poe dreaded having that conversation. And when the time came, would he and Finn move out to the ranch or would Kes move in with them in town?

He parked the speeder outside the gate to the front garden and walked to the front door. The house was empty, in more ways than one. As he wandered aimlessly through the rooms, Poe could not conjure up any memories even though he knew the house was full of them. He grabbed a couple of framed holos of his mother and the afghan off of Kes’s bed, then stood in the hallway, at a loss as to what to do next.

Check the kitchen, he thought after a few minutes. Kes wouldn’t be home for several weeks, and there was no point in wasting food that would be spoiled before he had a chance to use it.

He had his head buried in the conservator when he heard something outside. Carefully, he crept to the back door, which opened onto the screened porch. There was a small, slightly warped window in the top half of the door, and he peered out, hand creeping for the blaster that wasn’t there. Old habits died hard.

Something was moving through the shrubbery at the side of the yard. It was small, maybe only about knee height, and didn’t look organic. A flash of white and orange showed between the leaves …

“BB!,” he cried, throwing open the door and crossing the porch in a millisecond. As he opened the screen door on the porch, the little astromech droid whirred across the yard to beep excitedly at him.

[Friend-Poe! I missed you.]

“I missed you, too, buddy,” Poe said, jumping down the steps to crouch beside his droid. As always, he ran his hands over BB’s casing, checking for damage. It was a reflex; he knew that Rey kept the little droid in tip-top shape.

He looked up to see the Jedi emerge from the path, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder that threatened to overwhelm her slight frame. Poe knew better, of course; the woman was stronger than anyone he knew, except Chewbacca.

“How are you doing, Poe?,” she said, dropping gracefully to one knee next to him.

“I’m doing fine,” he lied. She narrowed her eyes at him and he sighed. “Okay, I’m a complete wreck.” She smiled and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him into a sideways hug.

“It’s okay,” she said, kissing his cheek. “I’m here, and BB’s here, and we’re going to do whatever we can to make things easier for you and Finn and Kes and the kids.”

He leaned into her embrace. Somehow, things always seemed clearer and easier when Rey was around. “Why are you here?,” he asked. “I mean, here, not in town.”

Rey laughed. “I commed Finn to let him know we were arriving soon and he told me you were out here, so I decided to land the Falcon on the back field to save on landing fees.”

Poe shook his head. “And bum a ride into town with me,” he said. “You just can’t shake that scavenger mentality, can you?”

She shrugged. “I’m thrifty,” she said. “And Finn thought it might not be a good idea for you to be out here alone for too long,” she admitted. Poe laid his head on her shoulder. I don’t deserve him, he thought. Or her, either.

“Okay,” he said, sitting up and slapping his hand against BB-8’s casing. “Let’s finish cleaning out the kitchen and we can get home. BB, I think you’ll like my latest mods to the speeder.”

Rey used the Force to levitate the droid up the steps to the porch and they all went into the kitchen. Theoretically it should have been faster to have two people going through the food stores, but since Rey couldn’t resist sampling everything, it ended up taking longer than necessary.

“Well, that’s one way to make sure things don’t spoil before Dad gets home,” Poe said when they were done. “I think you ate half of it.”

Rey gave him a cool look. “It was a long flight. I was hungry.”

“You’re always hungry, you desert rat,” Poe teased. “Come on, let’s go before Finn sends out a search party.”

They loaded the speeder, and Poe let Rey settle BB-8 into its navigator position. [Friend-Poe! Your mods far exceed the needs of a family vehicle. Does Friend-Finn know about this?]

Rey arched an eyebrow at him and Poe laughed — really laughed — for the first time since Kes’s accident. “Yeah, he knows, BB,” he said. “He basically said the same thing but it keeps me busy so he let it slide.” He slid behind the steering wheel. “And he made me promise not to use any of them when the kids are in the vehicle.”

“I don’t see any kids right now,” Rey said with a wicked grin. She was just as reckless a pilot as he was, and he knew she would appreciate his upgrades.

“Then hang on,” Poe said. He slammed the accelerator back and the speeder jumped to top speed as BB-8 let out a high-pitched trill of happy beeps.

Poe was in a funk. He tried to hide it but Finn knew him too well. Even as Poe played with the kids, laughed with Kes and tinkered on the speeder with BB-8, there was something a little too quiet about him, a little too forced about his smile.

“What’s going on?,” he asked one afternoon, catching Poe in an ideal moment. Kes was reading a book with Shara, and Rey was playing bantha fight in the backyard with Ben, so they had the living room to themselves.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Poe said hurriedly. “Dad’s doing great. The nurse said he can start therapy next week. He’ll be back on his feet in no time.”

Finn wasn’t buying it. “I know all that,” he said quietly. “But you’re not doing great. And don’t try to deny it,” he said, holding up a hand to forestall Poe’s argument. “I know you too well, babe. Plus there’s this little thing called ‘the Force’ that tells me you’re upset.”

“I thought you couldn’t read my mind,” Poe said. He was always a bit skittish when that aspect of Force sensitivity was being discussed.

“I can’t,” Finn reassured him. “But I can feel your emotions. And I don’t like what I feel.” He wrapped his arms around his husband. “You can tell me, babe,” he whispered. “Whatever it is, just tell me and I’ll try to help.”

Poe sighed and slowly relaxed in his embrace. “Okay, it’s kind of stupid but … I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what’s going to happen if … when Dad’s gone.”

Finn closed his eyes and pressed a kiss against Poe’s forehead. He rubbed his back and rocked gently back and forth. “Oh, Poe, don’t think about that. He’s fine. The doctor said other than the fracture he’s in perfect health. Dad’s going to be around for a long time.”

“I know,” Poe said into Finn’s neck. “But I still think about it. I mean … once Dad’s gone, I’ll be the oldest one in the family. The head of the family, so to speak. I’m not ready for that.”

“You weren’t ready to be a general, but you did fine at that,” Finn reminded him.

“Only because you were there to help me,” Poe said.

“Well, who says you have to be the head of the family by yourself? We can do that together, the way we ran the Resistance and the way we take care of the kids.” Finn ran his fingers through Poe’s hair as he shook his head.

“It’s not the same,” Poe insisted. “I’ll be the one who has all the answers, all the stories … I remember when my Grandpa died, Dad talked about all the things he should have asked him about, all the family history and knowledge that died with him.” He started crying quietly, the tears running down Finn’s neck and shoulder. “I’m sorry, I told you it was stupid …”

Finn stopped him. “No, it’s not,” he said. “It’s a legitimate concern. I … I don’t know much about being part of a family, so I’m probably not the right person to talk to. You know who you should talk to?”

“I’m not talking to Dad about this,” Poe said quickly, sitting up and giving Finn a warning look.

“No, not Dad,” Finn agreed. “When I have questions about stuff — family type stuff, relationship stuff —- I talk to Mariana Djarin.”

That gave Poe pause. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “They don’t live very far away. When we moved here, I stopped by to say hello and, well, I feel really comfortable asking her stuff.” He shrugged. “When we first met them, back on Gael 23, I asked her about your mom, what she remembered about her. And she was really nice.”

“You think she’d mind if I bothered her?” Poe asked.

“It wouldn’t be bothering her,” Finn insisted. “She told me we’re welcome any time. Both of us.” He squeezed Poe’s hand. “I think she gets a little lonely, now that it’s just her and Din and Ad’ika. When they were in hiding on Gael 23, at least she had her kids and grandkids there all the time. Now they’re off on other planets.” He raised Poe’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. “Go out there tomorrow and talk to her. I promise you’ll feel better.”

******************************

The Djarins’ house was tucked on a side road on the edge of town, practically in the jungle. It was quiet and cozy and Poe admonished himself for feeling nervous. He’d commed Mariana and she’d sounded more than welcoming. He walked up to the door and pressed his hand against the door sensor. A chime rang out inside and the door almost immediately slid open.

“Hi!” Poe looked down to see Ad’ika, the Djarins’ adopted son, staring up at him. He had hardly grown at all since the first time Poe had seen him, when he was only eight years old.

“Um, hi,” Poe said. “I’m here to see your mom.”

“Yeah,” Ad’ika said. “She told me. I was waiting for you.” Poe knew the child was close to eighty years old by now but he sounded not much older than Shara. “I like answering the door.”

Poe followed the tiny green being further into the house. “Mama’s in the kitchen,” Ad’ika continued. “Daddy’s in the garden. I’m helping him dig a hole.”

Mariana came through a doorway on the far side of the front room. “Go help Daddy,” she told Ad’ika. “I can take it from here.” He scurried out of the room. “They’re planting a tree,” she explained to Poe, gesturing for him to take a seat on the beat up but comfortable looking couch.

“Thanks for seeing me,” Poe said awkwardly. He liked Mariana, he really did, but he hadn’t had a mother figure to confide in since Leia had died and he was nervous. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

Mariana humphed. “It’s not a bother,” she said, plopping down next to him. “I told your husband you and your family are welcome anytime. So, what did you want to talk about?”

Poe didn’t know where to start. “You know my dad had an accident,” he began. She nodded. “And he’s fine, absolutely fine, but I keep thinking about what’s going to happen when he’s … not.”

Mariana nodded. “Facing the specter of your father’s mortality,” she said. “You need to talk to my son Cabur. He went through a similar crisis a couple of years ago when we celebrated his thirtieth birthday.” She smiled sadly. “He realized Din’s not going to live forever and neither is he.”

“How is your husband?,” he asked. “He’s about my dad’s age, I think.”

Mariana patted his arm. “Probably. Din doesn’t remember exactly when he was born; he was too young when the Mandalorians took him in. And he’s fine. The usual aches and pains from all those early injuries coming back to haunt him; all soldiers have those. But otherwise he got a clean bill of health at his last check up. He’ll be around for quite a while, just like your father.”

Poe sighed. “I know, I just … I’m not ready to even think about being the head of the family.”

“Oh, you definitely have to talk to Cabur,” she said. “I’ll comm him and see if he can come for a visit soon. He’s overdue anyway and Ad’ika will love to see him. They were so close when Cabur was little.” She sighed and shook her head. “Ad’ika asked me once why Cabur grew up so fast and he didn’t; he’s old enough to understand now that he’s a different species, and matures more slowly, but at the time, he was so confused.”

They talked about kids for awhile, Poe admitting that sometimes Shara scared him with her intelligence and ability to pick up skills like reading and arithmetic so easily, and how concerned he was that she might get bored in school. And he told her his suspicions that Ben might be Force-sensitive.

“He doesn’t make things float, does he?” Mariana asked. Poe shook his head. She laughed. “Then don’t worry about it too much. Finn and your friend Rey should be able to handle him, if Din and I were able to handle Ad’ika. We had no clue!”

“No clue about what,” Din said as he came into the room, his pant legs and boots covered in dirt. Ad’ika was right behind him, looking like he’d dug the hole by burrowing into the ground head first.

“About being civilized,” Mariana scolded. “You’re both filthy!”

Din shrugged. “I’ll sweep up later,” he said, settling down into an armchair. Ad’ika climbed up into his lap. “So what did we have no clue about?”

“Dealing with a Force-sensitive child,” Mariana said. “Poe was telling me they think Ben might be gifted.”

Din chuckled. “Good luck,” he said. “This one,” he nodded at Ad’ika, “was such a handful I had to hire someone to help me out. Fortunately, that worked out extremely well for all of us.” He winked at Mariana, who rolled her eyes at him.

“Well, Finn and I have Rey to help us out, if he is,” Poe said. “You know, I should really be going. You probably have things to do …”

Din waved his hand. “No, no, stay for a while,” he said. “We’ve got nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. We don’t get many visitors these days.” He sounded a bit wistful, and Poe felt bad about not coming to visit them sooner. After all, they’d known his mother, however briefly.

Ad’ika was snuggled comfortably in his father’s lap and Mariana leaned back on her end of the couch, tucking one leg underneath her. Poe relaxed as well, giving himself permission to stop being in charge for at least an hour or two.

They chatted about random things. At some point, Ad’ika brought one of his X-wing models over to Poe and listened raptly while he described what it was like to be in the cockpit of one. Poe looked up to see Din smiling indulgently at them, and he suddenly missed his mother intensely. He wished he’d had more time to be with her like this, just relaxing and talking about ships and flying.

Mariana must have seen something in his face, because she leaned forward and squeezed his hand. “Why don’t you put your toys away and clean up for dinner, Ad’ika?,” she said quietly. “Mr. Dameron needs to get home soon anyway.”

Poe glanced at his chrono and was surprised to see he’d been there for almost three hours. He understood why Finn liked to spend time with Mariana. Their home was so welcoming.

“Bring the kids next time,” Din said. “I’m sure your dad could use a break from them right about now.” He chuckled. “I love my grandkids to death, but the best part about being a grandfather is being able to give them back to their parents when they get tired or cranky.”

Poe nodded. “Yeah, Dad’s patience is starting to wear a bit thin,” he admitted. “He gets to start physiotherapy next week, though, so that’ll help. Maybe Finn or I can bring the kids over in a day or two to play with Ad’ika. Or both of us if Rey doesn’t mind staying with Dad.”

“Perfect,” said Mariana. “I haven’t seen Finn in a while, with everything going on with your father. We can have dinner like grown ups while the kids destroy the house.”

Poe laughed. Yeah, he really needed to visit more often.

She walked him to the door. “And I’ll get in touch with Cabur,” she said quietly as they stood for a moment on the front step, watching the evening breeze play with the flowers in the front garden bed. “You’ll feel better after you talk to him, I promise.” She pressed a motherly kiss to his cheek and then went back inside. “If all the dirt isn’t off the floor and that chair by the time bedtime rolls around, you’re sleeping on the couch, Din Djarin,” she said loudly enough for Poe to hear.

“Ha, ha, Daddy’s in trouble!” Ad’ika cried, his laughter fading away as Poe walked away from the house, already feeling a lot better.

Shara and Ben squealed with delight when they realized that there were new kids to play with at the Djarin house, even though they were all older. “Calm down, kiddos,” Finn told them.

Ad’ika ran toward them as fast as his little legs could carry him. “It’s my friends! Shara and Ben!,” he called over his shoulder at his nephews and niece.

The oldest boy introduced everyone. “Hi, Shara. Hi, Ben. I’m Mica, this is Bryn and our sister Danna.”

“Our dumb sister,” said Bryn. Danna stuck her tongue out at him.

“Girls aren’t dumb,” Shara said stoutly. “Boys are dumb.” Danna smiled and tucked her arm through Shara’s.

“How old are you?” Danna asked. “I’m seven. Dumb Bryn is eleven and Mica’s fourteen.”

“I’m almost five,” Shara said proudly. “Ben is only two.”

Ben held up two fingers. “But I not dumb,” he said, going to stand by the other boys.

Ad’ika giggled. “I’m eighty, I win!” Then he tugged at Ben’s hand. “Come see my new ship. Cabur gave it to me.” Bryn followed them, but Mica stayed behind for a moment.

“Don’t worry, sir,” he told Finn. “I’ll make sure no one gets hurt.”

“Maybe,” Danna said ominously. Mica made a face at her and she laughed, tugging Shara off toward the other boys. “I have a better toy than that dumb ship — a Wookiee! He had a bow caster and you can brush out his hair and he beats up all the bad guys!”

“Girls,” Mica said, shaking his head.

“Go make sure they don’t kill their brothers,” Finn said. “And have fun while you’re at it!” He gave Mica a friendly shove.

Mariana approached with a frosty glass of ale in her hand. “Here you go,” she said. “Mica will keep the little ones in line, and there won’t be too much blood.” She chuckled at Finn’s raised eyebrow. “I learned to expect a certain amount of blood when raising Mandalorian children. Din may be dar’manda but he still expects the members of his clan to be able to defend themselves.”

“How’s Poe been?,” she asked after Finn had had a chance to take a drink.

“Oh, that’s good,” he said, smacking his lips. Poe favored harder liquor but he’d always been partial to a nice ale. “Poe? He’s doing better, but I still catch him staring off into the distance and sighing now and then.”

“Cabur will straighten him out,” Mariana said with a nod. “My son knows a thing or two about feeling inadequate.” She sighed. “He’s had a lot to live up to, and stars know his father and I put too much pressure on him sometimes. We tried not to, but it couldn’t have been easy growing up knowing that no matter what he chose to do in life, he was expected first and foremost to take care of his brother. I’m afraid he spent quite a bit of his adolescence resenting Ad’ika and he feels guilty about it now.”

************************************

Poe was nervous. Cabur was younger than he was, but felt somehow older. Maybe it was because his kids were older, or maybe it was the sober gravity in his brown eyes. He looked quite a bit like his father, but without the spark of mischief that lurked in Din’s eyes.

“Your kids are adorable,” Cabur said, taking a sip of Corellian whiskey. He and Poe were seated on a bench at the edge of the Djarins’ backyard, far enough away from the others for a private conversation, but with a good view of the children running and tumbling around in the grass. Din was stoking the fire in the outside grill, preparing for the meal that he and Mariana had insisted on sharing with the Damerons.

“Yours, too,” Poe said. The whiskey went down smooth, but it still wasn’t enough to soothe his nerves. “Your wife didn’t come?”

Cabur shrugged. “She had some things at work she couldn’t get out of,” he said vaguely. He took another drink and then turned to Poe. “Okay, that’s what I told Mom and Dad,” he admitted. “She and I … things aren’t going great between us right now.”

“Maybe you need to talk more than I do,” Poe ventured.

Cabur shook his head. “No, we’re good. I mean, we’ll work it out. Eventually.” He shrugged again. “Don’t tell my parents, though. I don’t want them to worry.” He stretched, cracking his neck. “Sometimes I think my sister had the right idea, not rushing into anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I met Talia, she was okay with the whole Ad’ika thing, and I married her. Maybe we were too young,” he said. “Hell, I know we were too young. But I wanted to be a family man like my dad, a good husband and father. A clan leader. Mirdala, on the other hand, went out, enjoyed herself and she still hasn’t told us who Ronal’s father is.” He chuckled. “No one tells my sister what to do, that’s for damn sure.” He finished off his whiskey and picked up the bottle, ready to pour another, but then apparently thought better of it.

“So, Mom said you’re having a bit of a crisis,” he said.

Poe felt ridiculous. “It’s nothing really,” he said. “My dad got hurt a while back — fell off a ladder and broke his hip — and I’ve just been torturing myself thinking about what things will be like when he’s gone.”

Cabur nodded. “I’ve been there. When I turned thirty, I suddenly realized that I wasn’t a kid anymore. And that my dad wasn’t a young man anymore. I looked at him and I just … couldn’t unsee the gray hairs and the lines on his face. Nothing as momentous as your father’s accident, just me facing the fact that people grow old and die. And that my father was going to get there before me, and that my brother …” He paused to compose himself and Poe laid a hand on his shoulder. “My brother was going to outlast us all by centuries.” He turned to Poe, his eyes glittering with tears. “I love Ad’ika, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like I’m saddling Mica with the same burden I’ve grown up under.”

“Is he really a burden?” Poe asked quietly.

“No, not at all,” Cabur said, looking across the yard at Ad’ika, who was tumbling around on the grass with Ben while Bryn looked on, laughing. “He’s … it’s just … I think every kid resents being told what to do, especially when they get to a certain age.” He laughed. “Enough about me. I’m supposed to be helping you.”

“I think you are,” Poe said. “Look, I know this is something I’m just going to have to come to terms with. I just … I lost my mom when I was eight and my grandpa not long after that. Dad’s all I had for so long. I have Finn and the kids now, and Rey and the rest of our friends, but …”

“I get it,” Cabur said. “You’re the one to carry on the family legacy. It’s a big responsibility. But I’m sure your dad felt the same way at one point, and his dad before him, on and on back to the very first human male who was sentient enough to realize what was going on. We idolize our fathers, Poe, and we’re never going to live up to what we think they want of us. Or what we want of ourselves.”

Now he did pour another glass of whiskey, and topped off Poe’s glass as well. He clinked their glasses together. “To being a disappointment,” Cabur said.

Poe laughed. “Now that I’m good at.” He tossed back his drink and then clapped his hand on Cabur’s knee. “Thanks for the talk. I do feel better. And the next time I feel like a failure, I’ll give you a call.” He stood up. “I’m going to see if your dad needs any help with that grill.”

Cabur stood as well. “Oh, he doesn’t. Even if he does. But I’ll bet Mica would appreciate being relieved of babysitting duty.” He smiled wryly.

“A father’s work is never done,” Poe said. “I’ll help you wrangle them. Mine can get pretty wild.”

“So they take after you, not your husband, then?” Cabur asked innocently.

“Shut up,” Poe said. I think I might have a new best friend, he thought as they crossed the yard.

************************************

“Auntie Rey, we played with Ad’ika and the other kids, and we ate sooo much, and I want a Wookiee toy like Danna, it looks like Uncle Chewie …” Shara paused for a breath, allowing Finn to break in.

“I’m sure Auntie Rey will be happy to hear about your day later, after you get ready for bed,” he said quietly.

Shara huffed. “Okay, Daddy, but don’t tell her about it until I can.”

“How’s Dad?” Finn asked Rey.

“Fine,” she said. “How’s Poe?”

“Good,” he replied. “He seems a lot more —- I don’t know how to put it — settled, I guess.”

Rey tucked her arm through Finn’s. “I’m glad,” she said. “Next time you go out to the Djarins’, let’s leave him here with the kids and your dad. I need a break.”

“Yeah, right,” Finn said, bumping her with his shoulder. “I know you and Kes just sat around telling Poe stories and eating all the snacks.”

Rey gave him her most innocent look. “We also told Finn stories,” she said primly. “And there are three cookies left, I’ll have you know.”

“I stand corrected,” Finn said.

*********************************************

“Have a good time?” Kes asked.

“Yeah, we did,” Poe said. “How about you and Rey? Did it get too boring around here without the kids?”

“No, she had plenty of good stories about you and Finn to keep me entertained with,” Kes said with a gleam in his eye. “Did you have a good talk with the Djarins’ son?”

“Who told you about that?” Poe said, suddenly nervous.

“Finn,” Kes said simply. “And don’t get all worked up. I know this whole thing has been tough on you, son.”

Poe shrugged. “Not as tough as it’s been for you,” he said.

Kes shook his head. “I’ve been through worse,” he said. “And you and Finn and Rey have been spoiling me. As soon as I’m back on my feet and back home, I’m cooking you all the biggest, fanciest meal you’ve ever had.” He reached out and took Poe’s hand. “Everything’s going to be alright, son.”

“I know, Dad, I know,” Poe said, squeezing Kes’ hand. “I’d better go help get the kids ready for bed. They’re pretty riled up.”

“Let Finn and Rey handle it,” Kes said. “Sit. Talk to me. And I mean really talk to me, Poe.”

Poe closed his eyes for a moment, then sat on the edge of his father’s bed. And they talked until Finn finally came in to tell them the kids wanted Papa to kiss them goodnight.

“You good?” Finn asked as he walked Poe out of the room.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Poe said, laying his head on Finn’s shoulder. “Everything’s good.”

***********************************************************************************************************************************

NOTE: There aren’t a lot of great father figures in Star Wars canon, so here’s to Kes and Finn and Poe (and Din!) for showing the others how it should be done!

#star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #finn star wars #finn #poe dameron #poe x finn #finnpoe #stormpilot

2 notes · View notes

gltzgghln · 5 months

Text

major oc design dump from my sketchbooks for college

the characters in the first image i originally came up with when I was in middle school. the kitty chameleon is named layka/laika and he's based on a jacksepticeye creepypasta i ran into one day. his friend is weird hippo bunny with long ears. I don't remember how I came up with his design, but he might've been influenced by my interest in spore (the game) at the time

layka is always looking for trouble and they rly tried getting their friend into anosi's cult will them but their buddy never gave in. they probably stopped being friends at some point before the events of bright shadows. right now he's just kind of a villainous goon to anosi. also because he has chameleon-like eyes his eyelid:sclera ratio varies. ive only drawn his eyes pointing forward bc he's usually pretty angry n feisty but when he panics his eyes dart around separately

layka and their friend are like 13-16 in human years during bright shadows. i feel bad i don't have a name for the bunnyppo rn but I'm always workshopping

the characters presented after the duo are mariposa, qyu, nidana (first draft design + her infant son zip), zenzi (2 pics), idi, qyu again, and pezzer

all those characters, except idi who no longer works there, work in a factory. all the relationships between the coworkers is a wip but idi at one point was either fired or quit and him and his sister had some really dark plans after that 😬 back in like 2013 umi was actually originally gonna be working with idi esp on going thru w his plans until i changed umi's character entirely and ended up putting idi and co. in OC Purgatory for like an actual decade

idi was redesigned the same time hyehehe from MSM was released so that's why he has bat ears lol. qyu's name is pronounced with the phonemic /q/ (voiceless uvular plosive) because i want mehdepulan to be an actual functioning clong

@themidgardiansongstress helped come up with mariposas name :3

0 notes

aestheticvoyage2023 · 7 months

Text

Day 286b: Friday October 13, 2023 - "William's First Mountain Hike"

After a restless anxious morning, we finally got out and up on the trail, putting the armor down and strapping the backpack on with our little boo inside pretending to be an airplane as I climbed the gravel steep switchbacks made for trucks not for hikers. We were on our way up the road to Lockett Meadow where the Leaf-O-Meter suggested we'd be right on time for some beautiful aspens and their quaking yellow leaves. Huckleberry led the way as we traded off the weight, slowly making our way to where the real fun could start and William could hike more on his own.

Up in the meadow we pulled off to a picnic table for a rest and reset where William, with Mama's clever coaching and suggesting, had his first pee on a tree in the woods. Its was beautiful tall and strong pine tree. And William collected one of its pine cones of a momento - a level up he certainly understands, natively, as a little boy, as a big deal.

Our hike launched off and immediately into the trailhead I knew something was wrong. The amazing first grove of Aspens that was the subject of so many great photos in past years out here, was all burned down and its burn scar cut across just gutting me. It was heavy and hard to walk through that area and just have nothing. I knew that there were forest fires up here last summer. I hadn't realized they cut into this autumn heart of Arizona. So sad. Not pictured.

The next grove we came to, I laid back against a big rock, frustrated. This second grove was trees with empty tops. All the beautiful yellow leaves laying on the ground. We took a break, and enjoyed William's passionate collecting of pine cones and contemplated turning back or going further on up the mountain. Audrie took charge. Got us up and moving, and tried for one last grove that I suggested was up there "but probably looks just like this...." - "well then we should probably find out for sure" and on up the trail we bumbled and when POP there they were, on the third grove - beautiful full yellow aspens with perfectly aligned white barked sticks shoving their bouqets into the thin blue sky. I laid out on my back and bathed in it as William played with sticks and growled like a lion. Perfection. Audrie came and sat down next to me, off the trail and we watched our son say Hello to all the peoples that came by before realizing as naturally as a ramblers son would - "this would be a great place to catch some mama milk" - put it on the board, gotta be top 10 of all time.

After hiking most the way up here, William now led us back down. In total, his falls on the trail have to push nearly 480. But he got up every time and seemed to really enjoy the challenge of the never ending rocks and roots hidden in a blanket of gentle yellow leaves. On the way down, he held Huck's leash veiled as "William do it" but really, it was providing him a little extra balance as Audrie and I took turns holding it tight for him. At one point, ahead of them on the trail I stopped and framed up a really perfect shot, crouched down waiting for him to come around from behind a log and right down the trail - focus half cocked, ready to snap at just the right moment - here he comes, and as he came into the frame he tripped and face planted right into the ground. Action shot of Williams first big mountain hike - perfect. And given how the time stamps suggested he was up and running and smiling 27 seconds later, I didnt feel bad getting such a good laugh of the luck of capturing that. We figure William probably hike 3ish miles - maybe more, along side his family, in a place that will be one of those important ones. An important one Ive been coming to since 2014. One that he'll be coming back to throughout his childhood. A taste of my home, up here on the volcanic mountains of the colorado plateau.

As we started the march back down the road, William propped William back up in the pack. All of us in better shape than when we started up here earlier in the day. Healed a little bit by nature. Audrie and I talked as we looked out over the flatlands below us, about how fun it was to watch Willam be able to run around in the woods. And how important it is to help support and create opportunities for this in his childhood. How great would it be to find some of our old magic for the outdoors in our busy stressful lives - maybe its the anecdote. The smile on Williams face all day seriously suggests that the direction our compass should be pointing. And I took note. Especially as I looked back on the pictures of the day and how important it all was - for me. I definitely took note.

Song: Casper Babypants - Ob La Di Ob La Da

Quote: Tell them you love them over and over again. Tell them too much, and never too little, for the time we have is short but the love we have is endless. ~Dane Thomas

1 note · View note

neil-gaiman · 3 years

Note

How Did you come up with the first eve in the story about adams wives? I haven’t been able to find anything about her after I read it and I want to know if she’s an actual biblical character or just someone you made

She's from the Midrash. I learned about her as a 12 year old, from my barmitzvah teacher. There was a point in there, long after I'd put her into Sandman, where I was starting to think I'd imagined her, when I ran across her in Robert Graves's Hebrew Myths....

Excerpt from: The Hebrew Myths by Robert Graves and Raphael Patai (New York: Doubleday, 1964), pp 65-69

Chapter 10: Adam's Helpmeets

(a) Having decided to give Adam a helpmeet lest he should be alone of his kind, God put him into a deep sleep, removed one of his ribs, formed it into a woman, and closed up the wound, Adam awoke and said: 'This being shall be named "Woman", because she has been taken out of man. A man and a woman shall be one flesh.' The title he gave her was Eve, 'the Mother of All Living''. [1]

(b) Some say that God created man and woman in His own image on the Sixth Day, giving them charge over the world; [2] but that Eve did not yet exist. Now, God had set Adam to name every beast, bird and other living thing. When they passed before him in pairs, male and female, Adam-being already like a twenty-year-old man-felt jealous of their loves, and though he tried coupling with each female in turn, found no satisfaction in the act. He therefore cried: 'Every creature but I has a proper mate', and prayed God would remedy this injustice. [3]

(c) God then formed Lilith, the first woman, just as He had formed Adam, except that He used filth and sediment instead of pure dust. From Adam's union with this demoness, and with another like her named Naamah, Tubal Cain's sister, sprang Asmodeus and innumerable demons that still plague mankind. Many generations later, Lilith and Naamah came to Solomon's judgement seat, disguised as harlots of Jerusalem'. [4]

(d) Adam and Lilith never found peace together; for when he wished to lie with her, she took offence at the recumbent posture he demanded. 'Why must I lie beneath you?' she asked. 'I also was made from dust, and am therefore your equal.' Because Adam tried to compel her obedience by force, Lilith, in a rage, uttered the magic name of God, rose into the air and left him.

Adam complained to God: 'I have been deserted by my helpmeet' God at once sent the angels Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof to fetch Lilith back. They found her beside the Red Sea, a region abounding in lascivious demons, to whom she bore lilim at the rate of more than one hundred a day. 'Return to Adam without delay,' the angels said, `or we will drown you!' Lilith asked: `How can I return to Adam and live like an honest housewife, after my stay beside the Red Sea?? 'It will be death to refuse!' they answered. `How can I die,' Lilith asked again, `when God has ordered me to take charge of all newborn children: boys up to the eighth day of life, that of circumcision; girls up to the twentieth day. None the less, if ever I see your three names or likenesses displayed in an amulet above a newborn child, I promise to spare it.' To this they agreed; but God punished Lilith by making one hundred of her demon children perish daily; [5] and if she could not destroy a human infant, because of the angelic amulet, she would spitefully turn against her own. [6]

(e) Some say that Lilith ruled as queen in Zmargad, and again in Sheba; and was the demoness who destroyed job's sons. [7] Yet she escaped the curse of death which overtook Adam, since they had parted long before the Fall. Lilith and Naamah not only strangle infants but also seduce dreaming men, any one of whom, sleeping alone, may become their victim. [8]

(f) Undismayed by His failure to give Adam a suitable helpmeet, God tried again, and let him watch while he built up a woman's anatomy: using bones, tissues, muscles, blood and glandular secretions, then covering the whole with skin and adding tufts of hair in places. The sight caused Adam such disgust that even when this woman, the First Eve, stood there in her full beauty, he felt an invincible repugnance. God knew that He had failed once more, and took the First Eve away. Where she went, nobody knows for certain. [9]

(g) God tried a third time, and acted more circumspectly. Having taken a rib from Adam's side in his sleep, He formed it into a woman; then plaited her hair and adorned her, like a bride, with twenty-four pieces of jewellery, before waking him. Adam was entranced. [10]

(h) Some say that God created Eve not from Adam's rib, but from a tail ending in a sting which had been part of his body. God cut this off, and the stump-now a useless coccyx-is still carried by Adam's descendants. [11]

(i) Others say that God's original thought had been to create two human beings, male and female; but instead He designed a single one with a male face looking forward, and a female face looking back. Again He changed His mind, removed Adam's backward-looking face, and built a woman's body for it. [12]

(j) Still others hold that Adam was originally created as an androgyne of male and female bodies joined back to back. Since this posture made locomotion difficult, and conversation awkward, God divided the androgyne and gave each half a new rear. These separate beings He placed in Eden, forbidding them to couple. [13]

Notes on sources:

1. Genesis II. 18-25; III. 20.

2. Genesis I. 26-28.

3. Gen. Rab. 17.4; B. Yebamot 632.

4. Yalqut Reubeni ad. Gen. II. 21; IV. 8.

5. Alpha Beta diBen Sira, 47; Gaster, MGWJ, 29 (1880), 553 ff.

6. Num. Rab. 16.25.

7. Targum ad job 1. 15.

8. B. Shabbat 151b; Ginzberg, LJ, V. 147-48.

9. Gen. Rab. 158, 163-64; Mid. Abkir 133, 135; Abot diR. Nathan 24; B. Sanhedrin 39a.

10. Gen. II. 21-22; Gen. Rab. 161.

11. Gen. Rab. 134; B. Erubin 18a.

12. B. Erubin 18a.

13. Gen. Rab. 55; Lev. Rab. 14.1: Abot diR. Nathan 1.8; B. Berakhot 61a; B. Erubin 18a; Tanhuma Tazri'a 1; Yalchut Gen. 20; Tanh. Buber iii.33; Mid. Tehillim 139, 529.

Authors’ Comments on the Myth:

1. The tradition that man's first sexual intercourse was with animals, not women, may be due to the widely spread practice of bestiality among herdsmen of the Middle East, which is still condoned by custom, although figuring three times in the Pentateuch as a capital crime. In the Akkadian Gilgamesh Epic, Enkidu is said to have lived with gazelles and jostled other wild beasts at the watering place, until civilized by Aruru's priestess. Having enjoyed her embraces for six days and seven nights, he wished to rejoin the wild beasts but, to his surprise, they fled from him. Enkidu then knew that he had gained understanding, and the priestess said: 'Thou art wise, Enkidu, like unto a godl'

2. Primeval man was held by the Babylonians to have been androgynous. Thus the Gilgamesh Epic gives Enkidu androgynous features: `the hair of his head like a woman's, with locks that sprout like those of Nisaba, the Grain-goddess.' The Hebrew tradition evidently derives from Greek sources, because both terms used in a Tannaitic midrash to describe the bisexual Adam are Greek: androgynos, 'man-woman', and diprosopon, 'twofaced'. Philo of Alexandria, the Hellenistic philosopher and commentator on the Bible, contemporary with Jesus, held that man was at first bisexual; so did the Gnostics. This belief is clearly borrowed from Plato. Yet the myth of two bodies placed back to back may well have been founded on observation of Siamese twins, which are sometimes joined in this awkward manner. The two-faced Adam appears to be a fancy derived from coins or statues of Janus, the Roman New Year god.

3. Divergences between the Creation myths of Genesis r and n, which allow Lilith to be presumed as Adam's first mate, result from a careless weaving together of an early Judaean and a late priestly tradition. The older version contains the rib incident. Lilith typifies the Anath-worshipping Canaanite women, who were permitted pre-nuptial promiscuity. Time after time the prophets denounced Israelite women for following Canaanite practices; at first, apparently, with the priests' approval-since their habit of dedicating to God the fees thus earned is expressly forbidden in Deuteronomy xxIII. I8. Lilith's flight to the Red Sea recalls the ancient Hebrew view that water attracts demons. 'Tortured and rebellious demons' also found safe harbourage in Egypt. Thus Asmodeus, who had strangled Sarah's first six husbands, fled 'to the uttermost parts of Egypt' (Tobit viii. 3), when Tobias burned the heart and liver of a fish on their wedding night.

4. Lilith's bargain with the angels has its ritual counterpart in an apotropaic rite once performed in many Jewish communities. To protect the newborn child against Lilith-and especially a male, until he could be permanently safeguarded by circumcision-a ring was drawn with natron, or charcoal, on the wall of the birthroom, and inside it were written the words: 'Adam and Eve. Out, Lilith!' Also the names Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof (meanings uncertain) were inscribed on the door. If Lilith nevertheless succeeded in approaching the child and fondling him, he would laugh in his sleep. To avert danger, it was held wise to strike the sleeping child's lips with one finger-whereupon Lilith would vanish.

5. 'Lilith' is usually derived from the Babylonian-Assyrian word lilitu, ,a female demon, or wind-spirit'-one of a triad mentioned in Babylonian spells. But she appears earlier as 'Lillake' on a 2000 B.G. Sumerian tablet from Ur containing the tale of Gilgamesh and the Willow Tree. There she is a demoness dwelling in the trunk of a willow-tree tended by the Goddess Inanna (Anath) on the banks of the Euphrates. Popular Hebrew etymology seems to have derived 'Lilith' from layil, 'night'; and she therefore often appears as a hairy night-monster, as she also does in Arabian folklore. Solomon suspected the Queen of Sheba of being Lilith, because she had hairy legs. His judgement on the two harlots is recorded in I Kings III. 16 ff. According to Isaiah xxxiv. I4-I5, Lilith dwells among the desolate ruins in the Edomite Desert where satyrs (se'ir), reems, pelicans, owls, jackals, ostriches, arrow-snakes and kites keep her company.

6. Lilith's children are called lilim. In the Targum Yerushalmi, the priestly blessing of Numbers vi. 26 becomes: 'The Lord bless thee in all thy doings, and preserve thee from the Lilim!' The fourth-century A.D. commentator Hieronymus identified Lilith with the Greek Lamia, a Libyan queen deserted by Zeus, whom his wife Hera robbed of her children. She took revenge by robbing other women of theirs.

7. The Lamiae, who seduced sleeping men, sucked their blood and ate their flesh, as Lilith and her fellow-demonesses did, were also known as Empusae, 'forcers-in'; or Mormolyceia, 'frightening wolves'; and described as 'Children of Hecate'. A Hellenistic relief shows a naked Lamia straddling a traveller asleep on his back. It is characteristic of civilizations where women are treated as chattels that they must adopt the recumbent posture during intercourse, which Lilith refused. That Greek witches who worshipped Hecate favoured the superior posture, we know from Apuleius; and it occurs in early Sumerian representations of the sexual act, though not in the Hittite. Malinowski writes that Melanesian girls ridicule what they call `the missionary position', which demands that they should lie passive and recumbent.

8. Naamah, 'pleasant', is explained as meaning that 'the demoness sang pleasant songs to idols'. Zmargad suggest smaragdos, the semi-precious aquamarine; and may therefore be her submarine dwelling. A demon named Smaragos occurs in the Homeric Epigrams.

9. Eve's creation by God from Adam's rib-a myth establishing male supremacy and disguising Eve's divinity-lacks parallels in Mediterranean or early Middle-Eastern myth. The story perhaps derives iconotropically from an ancient relief, or painting, which showed the naked Goddess Anath poised in the air, watching her lover Mot murder his twin Aliyan; Mot (mistaken by the mythographer for Yahweh) was driving a curved dagger under Aliyan's fifth rib, not removing a sixth one. The familiar story is helped by a hidden pun on tsela, the Hebrew for 'rib': Eve, though designed to be Adam's helpmeet, proved to be a tsela, a 'stumbling', or 'misfortune'. Eve's formation from Adam's tail is an even more damaging myth; perhaps suggested by the birth of a child with a vestigial tail instead of a coccyx-a not infrequent occurrence.

10. The story of Lilith's escape to the East and of Adam's subsequent marriage to Eve may, however, record an early historical incident: nomad herdsmen, admitted into Lilith's Canaanite queendom as guests (see 16. 1), suddenly seize power and, when the royal household thereupon flees, occupy a second queendom which owes allegiance to the Hittite Goddess Heba.

The meaning of 'Eve' is disputed. Hawwah is explained in Genesis III. 20 as 'mother of all living'; but this may well be a Hebraicized form of the divine name Heba, Hebat, Khebat or Khiba. This goddess, wife of the Hittite Storm-god, is shown riding a lion in a rock-sculpture at Hattusaswhich equates her with Anath-and appears as a form of Ishtar in Hurrian texts. She was worshipped at Jerusalem (see 27. 6). Her Greek name was Hebe, Heracles's goddess-wife.

2K notes · View notes

the-king-andthe-lionheart · 3 years

Text

The Fundamentals of Gendrya

So I just want to establish the possible foreshadowing Arya and Gendry have that hints at a possible romantic relationship in the future, as well as the romantic undertones present in their story. I’m not really going to focus on symbolism in this meta (although it will come up a couple of times in a minor way), as that will be a focus for future meta. This is only meant to establish the fundamental basics.

First I want to say that when I’m talking about the romantic possibility of Gendrya, I mean future Gendrya, as in once Arya is older. However I will posit and say that because we are viewing this in the world of Westeros (in a pseudo Medieval world that GRRM exaggerated and sensationalized from real Medieval sources as well as rumor) and because GRRM has established he has no problems with placing his younger characters in romantic or sexual situations (see Mercy TWOW) I think it would be remiss to think GRRM would not take Arya and Gendry here if that was his plan all along. After all, there is plenty of precedent.

This also leads me to remind everyone that Gendry is not an adult when he meets Arya, and the age gap between the two is one of the least egregious age gaps in the books as most of the age gaps are between adult men in their 20’s and 30’s with 12-16 year old girl’s. I think a lot of people think of the age gap as Arya being 9 the whole time and Gendry being 16, but this is in fact wrong. According to the timeline, Arya and Gendry meet at the beginning of 299 AC, right around Arya’s 10th birthday. In 299 AC Gendry was only 13/14 years old. He was born in 284 AC and is not the same age as Robb and Jon, like Ned surmises. Gendry is just big for his age, and it’s highly likely Gendry doesn’t even know how old he is. When Arya and Gendry separate in ASOS Arya is almost 11 while Gendry is 14/15 years old.

Regardless, this is fiction, and doesn’t reflect real world morals. So what I’m getting at is that if anyone disagrees with this meta because of their ages I suggest you don’t read any further.

Foreshadowing

Our first hint of foreshadowing happens in Arya’s very first chapter:

She frowned down at them with dismay and glanced over to where her sister Sansa sat among the other girls. Sansa's needlework was exquisite. Everyone said so. “Sansa's work is as pretty as she is,” Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. “She has such fine, delicate hands.” When Lady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed. “Arya has the hands of a blacksmith.” - Arya I AGOT

This quote is later followed up with:

[...] “I ruined that gown Lady Smallwood gave me, and I don't sew so good.” She chewed her lip. “I don't sew very well, I mean. Septa Mordane used to say I had a blacksmith's hands.”

Gendry hooted. “Those soft little things,” he called out. “You couldn't even hold a hammer.” - Arya VII ASOS

In the same book Lem Lemoncloak says this to Gendry:

“You must be a lackwit, boy,” said Lem. “We're outlaws. Lowborn scum, most of us, except for his lordship. Don't think it'll be like Tom's fool songs neither. You won't be stealing no kisses from a princess, nor riding in no tourneys in stolen armor. You join us, you'll end with your neck in a noose, or your head mounted up above some castle gate.” - Arya VII ASOS

At this point Arya is indeed a princess, but Lem also makes an obvious reference (to the audience) to the Knight of the Laughing Tree, which I think we can safely say was Lyanna. The fact that Lyanna is Arya’s literary mirror, tells me we can connect Arya to Lem’s comment, not to mention the inclusion of “princess” just kind of seals the deal. We also know that Arya is the spitting image of Lyanna and Gendry the spitting image of Robert Baratheon. I think it’s worth noting also that after Acorn Hall, Lem takes it upon himself to make sure nothing untoward happens between Arya and Gendry (he thought Gendry was taking advantage of Arya after they wrestled) as he starts sleeping in between them, which is seen in Arya V ASOS when they are at The Peach. Lem saying “Don’t think it’ll be like Tom’s fool songs neither” is also interesting because at Acorn Hall we specifically get Tom singing a love song directed towards Arya and Gendry.

Speaking of Lyanna and Robert being reflections of Arya (in both appearance and personality) and Gendry (in appearance for the most part) this is said in Eddard I AGOT:

We were meant to rule together. If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done."

Now this quote may be referring to Sansa and Joffrey, but I do think it’s foreshadowing for Gendrya and this is just a misdirect. After all, Joffrey is not Robert Baratheon’s son by blood, but Gendry is, even though he is illegitimate. To me this also sounds like a promise. When you think about it, the story truly begins at the Tourney of Harrenhal with the events that broke the betrothal between Lyanna and Robert, so it would be very cyclical for the ending to do what the beginning could not, binding a Stark and a Baratheon together in marriage.

There are also several references about Arya marrying an apprentice/blacksmith:

“[...] Or if it is marriage and children you desire, tell me, and we shall find a husband for you. Some honest apprentice boy, a rich old man, a seafarer, whatever you desire.” - Arya II AFFC

We also have a comment made by Jaime:

“Not all,” said Jaime. “Lord Eddard's daughters live. One has just been wed. The other...” Brienne, where are you? Have you found her? “...if the gods are good, she'll forget she was a Stark. She'll wed some burly blacksmith or fat-faced innkeep, fill his house with children, and never need to fear that some knight might come along to smash their heads against a wall.” - Jaime I ADWD

Now I know what you are going to say, that Jaime is referring to Sansa possibly marrying a blacksmith or innkeep, but if it weren’t for Jaime’s thought’s in the middle towards Brienne, you’d never guess which Stark daughter he is referring to because Sansa was only just recently married as well. Also it’s Arya who is associated with a blacksmith (Gendry) and a fat-faced innkeep (Hot Pie). So while Jaime is referring to Sansa here I think we are meant to actually look at the reality behind this and reverse the foreshadowing back onto Arya, because it wasn’t Arya who was recently wed, that was Sansa. It’s also Arya who is legitimately trying to forget she was a Stark (Sansa isn’t trying to forget, she is only pretending to be Alayne to ensure her protection) and like I mentioned it’s Arya who had a blacksmith and future employee at an inn as companions for two novels. So I think it’s a foreshadowing switcheroo. And I think it’s also worth mentioning that while Jaime sent Brienne out to save Sansa, Brienne spends her whole journey almost exclusively hearing news and following leads about Arya.

There is also a reference in Brienne VII AFFC that makes mention that Arya may marry an apprentice boy:

Gendry was the closest thing to a man grown, but it was Willow shouting all the orders, as if she were a queen in her castle and the other children were no more than servants.

If she were highborn, command would come naturally to her, and deference to them. Brienne wondered whether Willow might be more than she appeared. The girl was too young and too plain to be Sansa Stark, but she was of the right age to be the younger sister, and even Lady Catelyn had said that Arya lacked her sister's beauty. Brown hair, brown eyes, skinny...could it be? Arya Stark's hair was brown, she recalled, but Brienne was not sure about the color of her eyes. Brown and brown, was that it? Could it be that she did not die at Saltpans after all?

“One day that little girl [Willow] will make some man a frightful wife,” Ser Hyle observed. “That poor 'prentice boy [Gendry], most like.”

Willow is very obviously a Arya stand-in which makes this specific quote about Arya and Gendry, not Willow and Gendry.

Arya IV ASOS has the strongest case for future romantic Gendrya. Not only does Gendry follow after Arya and invite her to look at the forge, Gendry opens up to her about his life right before he was uprooted, and does this:

Gendry reached out with the tongs as if to pinch her face, but Arya swatted them away.

Gendry is being playful and open with Arya during most of this scene in the forge, teasing her in a manner that verges on flirting, telling her a story about his past, laughing and having fun with Arya. And then this happens:

Gendry put the hammer down and looked at her. “You look different now. Like a proper little girl.”

“I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns.”

“Nice, though. A nice oak tree.” He stepped closer, and sniffed at her. “You even smell nice for a change.”

“You don't. You stink.” Arya shoved him back against the anvil and made to run, but Gendry caught her arm. She stuck a foot between his legs and tripped him, but he yanked her down with him, and they rolled across the floor of the smithy. He was very strong, but she was quicker. Every time he tried to hold her still she wiggled free and punched him. Gendry only laughed at the blows, which made her mad. He finally caught both her wrists in one hand and started to tickle her with the other, so Arya slammed her knee between his legs, and wrenched free. Both of them were covered in dirt, and one sleeve was torn on her stupid acorn dress. “I bet I don't look so nice now,” she shouted.

Gendry compliments Arya’s looks and scent, only for Arya to think he’s teasing her about her appearance due to her intense insecurity when it comes to highborn conformation (Gendry’s laugh when he first saw her didn’t help matters in her insecurity even though Gendry most likely only laughed out of being startled at her transformation). This insecurity leads Arya into getting angry and starting a wrestling match with him. This wrestling scene also directly follows Jaime and Brienne’s very sexually charged sword fight, and could also be interpreted as foreshadowing a romantic and potentially sexual relationship in the future, like theirs did, when they are older.

Now I’m not saying that I think Gendrya is going to go NC-17 in the books, but I do think it’s likely to go PG-13 by the end of ADOS, considering we have precedent that GRRM has no qualms about writing these types of things as I mentioned above, and we know Arya is going to be 12 in TWOW and may be at least 14-15 when the series ends depending on how much GRRM can spread out the timeline in the next two books. But considering the amount of stuff that needs to happen, I think the next two books will span 2-3 years before the epilogue begins.

Then there is the love song GRRM specifically wrote for Arya. A song that has only appeared in one chapter, Arya’s chapter:

“My featherbed is deep and soft,

and there I'll lay you down,

I'll dress you all in yellow silk,

and on your head a crown.

For you shall be my lady love,

and I shall be your lord.

I'll always keep you warm and safe,

and guard you with my sword.

“And how she smiled and how she laughed,

the maiden of the tree.

She spun away and said to him,

no featherbed for me.

I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,

and bind my hair with grass,

But you can be my forest love,

and me your forest lass.”

Now we know this song is about them because when Tom O’Sevens is singing it, he winks at Arya, and later Lady Smallwood specifically says to Arya “I have no gowns of leaves”. The song specifically mentions yellow – a Baratheon color – and depicts the free spirited “Maiden of the Tree” who wants love on her own terms, which sounds like what an older, flowered version of Arya would want if she fell in love.

Romantic Undertones

Arya’s Crush

As she passed the armory, Arya heard the ring of a hammer. A deep orange glow shone through the high windows. She climbed to the roof and peeked down. Gendry was beating out a breastplate. When he worked, nothing existed for him but metal, bellows, fire. The hammer was like part of his arm. She watched the play of muscles in his chest and listened to the steel music he made. He's strong, she thought. As he took up the long-handled tongs to dip the breastplate into the quenching trough, Arya slithered through the window and leapt down to the floor beside him. - Arya IX ACOK

It’s very subtle but this paragraph tells us everything. Arya unintentionally reveals in this quote that she watches Gendry blacksmithing enough to know that the world falls away when he’s in his element. She watches the play of muscles in his back and notes how strong he is and even attaches poetic language to his work. Arya has a crush on Gendry. It’s not acknowledged and it’s likely she doesn’t understand it herself, but this seems to be the truth of it, especially with the way GRRM worded this. I don’t know how many times I’ve read a romance where the protagonist studies their love interest while watching the “play of muscles” in their back or their arms. It’s also interesting to note that Arya always mentions specifics about Gendry’s looks and notes details about him:

He blinked at her, startled. Strands of thick black hair, still wet from the bathhouse, fell across his deep blue eyes. "I'd hurt you." - Arya II ACOK

"It's me they want," Arya whispered back. His ear smelled of soap. "You be quiet." - Arya II ACOK

When she spied Gendry, his bare chest was slick with sweat, but the blue eyes under the heavy black hair had the stubborn look she remembered. - Arya VIII ACOK

"She's not alone." Gendry rode out from behind the cottage wall, and behind him Hot Pie, leading her horse. In his chainmail shirt with a sword in his hand, Gendry looked almost a man grown, and dangerous. Hot Pie looked like Hot Pie. - Arya II ASOS

Now most of these I’d normally chalk up to the author just being descriptive, but if that’s the case, why don’t we know more about Hot Pie’s looks, who Arya spent nearly a year with at the same time as Gendry? Why does she take special time out to describe Gendry so much? Honestly I think part of it is to keep reminding us that Gendry is a secret Baratheon bastard, but that doesn’t explain the first quote about Arya watching the “play of muscles” in his back and noting how strong he is. So I think it’s a combination of GRRM wanting to remind the audience that Gendry is a Baratheon and to also subtly show us that Arya has an innocent crush on him, but doesn’t know or acknowledge that this is the case out loud.

Their Mutual Jealousy

Starting after the events of Acorn Hall in Arya IV ASOS, it’s obvious that something shifts in Arya and Gendry’s relationship. One aspect is that Gendry can no longer ignore that Arya is indeed a highborn girl after seeing her for the first time dressed up as one. He knows what class differences will mean for their friendship. And another aspect, is that Gendry acknowledges that he may be romantically interested in Arya, or at least acknowledges the potential for those feelings to emerge in time. And because of this, combined with their class differences, Gendry knows that if he follows Arya to Riverrun where her mother and brother are, he would end up watching Arya grow into someone he could romantically love, only for her to be torn away from him due to an arranged marriage. Both of these aspects play a factor in why we see Gendry become more outwardly scathing towards highborns in the chapters following this and why his behavior seems to become one rife with jealousy.

In Arya V ASOS the Brotherhood Without Banners travel to The Peach and both of the above aspects I spoke of are present in this chapter:

"You don't even know what a brothel is."

"I do so," she insisted. "It's like an inn, with girls."

He was turning red again. "What are you doing here, then?" he demanded. "A brothel's no fit place for no bloody highborn lady, everybody knows that."

And when Gendry protects Arya from a pervert by saying that she’s his sister, this is what goes down:

"Why did you say that?" Arya hopped to her feet. "You're not my brother."

"That's right," he said angrily. "I'm too bloody lowborn to be kin to m'lady high."

Arya was taken aback by the fury in his voice. "That's not the way I meant it."

"Yes it is." He sat down on the bench, cradling a cup of wine between his hands. "Go away. I want to drink this wine in peace. Then maybe I'll go find that black-haired girl and ring her bell for her."

Arya doesn’t really understand the intentions of the pervert, despite knowing of sex, and is confused on why Gendry would say that he’s her brother, but when she asks him, he takes it the wrong way since he is already so sensitive about their class differences at this point in their story. That last paragraph is what makes this exchange really interesting though. Why would Gendry say this, when it’s already made clear and established in this chapter that Gendry has no intentions of sleeping with any of the girls, even when it’s offered to him for free? He is very obviously lying to try to get a rise out of Arya and the only way this makes sense is if we put it under a romantic lens.

Then we have this:

Arya whirled and left him there. A stupid bullheaded bastard boy, that's all he is. He could ring all the bells he wanted, it was nothing to her.

Now considering Arya’s defense mechanism (the mechanism that has her calling things or people stupid when she’s hurt or feeling inadequate by them to try to make the pain and hurt not seem so severe) the fact that she calls Gendry a “stupid bullheaded bastard boy” and proclaims Gendry ringing the bells of any girl was “nothing to her” tells us that it matters to her and that she’s upset. This is further reiterated in Arya VIII ASOS:

Arya wished she had another crabapple to bounce off his face. "My father had honor," she said angrily. "And we weren't talking to you anyway. Why don't you go back to Stoney Sept and ring that girl's stupid bells?"

So here we have Arya mention this three chapters later, likely weeks if not months later. If Arya didn’t care about Gendry ringing “all the bells he wanted” then why is she still so hurt and jealous? She’s obviously been stewing about this for a while.

In this same chapter we also see gems from Gendry that clearly proclaim that he’s still plagued about his class differences to Arya. It also clearly shows that Gendry is jealous of Edric Dayne once Arya befriends him, especially since she befriended someone highborn, like her, who just so happens to be a boy who we know has nearly the same coloring as Rhaegar Targaryen, which evokes the history repeating motif that is present in Arya’s arc of the Rhaegar/Lyanna/Robert love triangle.

"You have a knife," Gendry suggested. "If your hair annoys you so much, shave your bloody head."

He doesn't like Ned. The squire seemed nice enough to Arya; maybe a little shy, but good-natured. She had always heard that Dornishmen were small and swarthy, with black hair and small black eyes, but Ned had big blue eyes, so dark that they looked almost purple. And his hair was a pale blond, more ash than honey. - Arya VIII ASOS

And

"My lady?" Ned looked embarrassed. "I'm Edric Dayne, the . . . the Lord of Starfall."

Behind them, Gendry groaned. "Lords and ladies," he proclaimed in a disgusted tone. Arya plucked a withered crabapple off a passing branch and whipped it at him, bouncing it off his thick bull head. "Ow," he said. "That hurt." He felt the skin above his eye. "What kind of lady throws crabapples at people?"

"The bad kind," said Arya, suddenly contrite.

Gendry continues to encapsulate “ours is the fury” during Arya’s whole exchange with Edric Dayne.

I do want to add that I know Gendry’s class issues have always been there, and it’s definitely been made even more apparent to him during the War of the Five Kings during his time in the wartorn Riverlands with Arya, so it’s not exactly that far-fetched that Gendry may become even more sensitive and/or bitter about it. However, this extremity of his behavior only happened after Acorn Hall where he saw Arya looking like the highborn girl she is. And while I do believe part of Gendry’s increase of bitterness about their class differences does have to do with potential romantic feelings, I also think it has to do with Gendry also coming to terms with the fact that Arya’s family is also directly responsible for the carnage they have seen and experienced (even though he doesn’t blame Arya, as she seems to be one of Gendry’s exceptions when it comes to his dislike of the nobility). If it weren’t for the blatant flirting on his behalf in the forge at Acorn Hall and the jealousy, I would honestly chalk it up to Gendry trying to reconcile his own trauma and anger regarding highborns, including Arya’s family’s sins, but alas, that is not completely the case.

Post Separation

When Arya is kidnapped by the Hound and witnesses the Red Wedding, Arya contemplates where she may go and this crosses her thoughts in a very romanticized light:

She could stay with Hot Pie, or maybe Lord Beric would find her there. Anguy would teach her to use a bow, and she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs.

But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream. - Arya XII ASOS

The fact that Arya follows this thought up with “that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream” tells us specifically what type of fantasy this is. Arya isn’t fantasizing about an adventure, she’s fantasizing about love and romance, considering those are the types of flights of fancy Sansa always loses herself in. Now Arya isn’t outright rejecting the possibility of romance here, because there is more to that second paragraph:

But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream. Hot Pie and Gendry had left her just as soon as they could, and Lord Beric and the outlaws only wanted to ransom her, just like the Hound. None of them wanted her around. They were never my pack, not even Hot Pie and Gendry. I was stupid to think so, just a stupid little girl, and no wolf at all.

She rejects the possibility because she remembers that Hot Pie and Gendry abandoned her as soon as they could, and that all the Brotherhood did was use her, according to her perspective on the matter. And her perspective is entirely skewed because of her abandonment and low self-esteem issues, as well as not fully understanding the class issues as she honestly didn’t think that bringing Hot Pie and Gendry to Riverrun and Winterfell would cause any issues with their friendships, which is understandable for a kid to think. Especially one that hadn’t been in the highborn world for the past year and a half. In fact, Medieval children in the real world and in the books, weren’t reprimanded for playing together regardless of class, usually the highborn children played with the children of those who worked and lived within the castle walls, from other lords children to stewards children to the helps children. It’s just something children did until they reached a certain age where it just wasn’t allowed anymore. So it’s only natural for this not to really factor into Arya’s plans.

When Arya is about to walk into the House of Black and White, Arya comforts her fear with a memory of Gendry:

Suddenly she was somewhere else . . . back in Harrenhal with Gendry [...] - Arya I AFFC

Which indicates that Gendry is still very much on her mind at this point. I think it really says something as well that Arya takes comfort from a memory at Harrenhal of all places. I think this indicates how much comfort she took from their friendship. I also think she doesn’t think about Gendry with the Brotherhood to take her comfort because while ASOS has the most romantic foreshadowing for them and the two shared some nice moments, it was also the start of them truly fracturing, or so her unreliable narration interpreted it as. After all, she actually thought that Gendry was making fun of her looks at Acorn Hall, and she thought Gendry didn’t want to be her friend anymore as he “abandoned her” for the Brotherhood. So while Harrenhal was awful and they had their disagreements there, Arya still felt reassured with his companionship and likely found it uncomplicated in comparison to her other problems at the time.

When we next see Gendry in Brienne VII AFFC we see a drastically different Gendry. While Gendry has always been guarded and sullen with a chip on his shoulder, with little love for the nobility, this change is drastic enough where it’s unsettling to read at first. Not only is Gendry just flat out rude in a very mean way but he is filled with rage. Gendry joined the Brotherhood because he liked how they handled justice, but under Lady Stoneheart there is no justice and he doesn’t seem to mind. His beliefs have shifted as well.

And though his eyes had been that same deep blue, Lord Renly's eyes had always been warm and welcoming, full of laughter, whereas this boy's eyes brimmed with anger and suspicion.

Septon Meribald asked if he might lead the children in a grace, ignoring the small girl crawling naked across the table. "Aye," said Willow, snatching up the crawler before she reached the porridge. So they bowed their heads together and thanked the Father and the Mother for their bounty . . . all but the black-haired boy from the forge, who crossed his arms against his chest and sat glowering as the others prayed. Brienne was not the only one to notice. When the prayer was done Septon Meribald looked across the table, and said, "Do you have no love for the gods, son?"

"Not for your gods." Gendry stood abruptly. "I have work to do." He stalked out without a bite of food.

Gendry was at his forge, bare-chested beneath his leather apron. He was beating on a sword as if he wished it were a foe [...]

What would a knight be doing working at a smithy? "You have black hair and blue eyes, and you were born in the shadow of the Red Keep. Has no one ever remarked upon your face?"

"What's wrong with my face? It's not as ugly as yours."

Lord Renly was ahead of her, her sweet smiling king. He was leading her horse through the trees. Brienne called out to tell him how much she loved him, but when he turned to scowl at her, she saw that he was not Renly after all. Renly never scowled. He always had a smile for me, she thought . . . except . . .

While some people chalk up Gendry’s behavior as a result of trauma about what he experienced in the Riverlands, and I don’t deny that is a factor, I don’t believe it’s the only factor because we didn’t see Gendry like this post Harrenhal or even with the Brotherhood in ASOS. Yes he embodied “ours is the fury” at times and was jealous and bitter, and rude at times as well, but he wasn’t flat out cruel to people, nor filled with rage and vengeance. The Gendry before Arya was taken would never have led Brienne to Lady Stoneheart for the slaughter after she tried to save everyone in that Inn against Rorge and Biter and co. We can also see another difference in Gendry:

Lightning cracked to the south as the riders swung down off their horses. For half a heartbeat darkness turned to day. An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling.

Gendry saw it too. "Him."

While there is no emphasis on the “him” when Gendry sees the Hound’s helm, it’s an abrupt and emotionless statement. It’s one word without emphasis but it conveys a lot. Gendry recognizes the Hound’s helm and it’s apparent he’s not happy, thinking that it was indeed the Hound for a minute. And while I’m trying to avoid discussing symbolism, I just can’t ignore how the lightning that cracked in the south could also be symbolic of Gendry’s true mood. He is, after all, a bastard Baratheon, connected to the storm, the fury - thunder and lightning - as well as sharing a connection to the god, Thor in our mythology. This lightning could symbolically be linked to Gendry’s anger and vengeance. So why does Gendry act like this when he sees who he thinks is the Hound again? He had no issue with the Hound during his trial by combat, so what changed? The Hound kidnapped Arya. And while he knows Arya didn’t die at the Red Wedding, he and the Brotherhood aren’t entirely sure if the Hound sold Arya to the Lannister’s and if she is now Arya Bolton. So it makes complete sense why he would have issues with the Hound. In fact I think a lot of this behavior we are seeing from Gendry is the direct result of the Hound kidnapping Arya and not knowing if she’s dead or being brutally raped and tortured in the North.

Why do I think this? Because this behavior began between Arya being kidnapped in ASOS and Brienne VII AFFC. Only a few to a handful of months have passed since then. This, I believe, is the inciting incident. Another reason why I believe Arya is the reason is because of what he is doing. He is staying at the Crossroads Inn, one of the last known places Arya was sighted, and he’s helping take care of orphaned children. Arya took in strays as well and cared for them, like Weasel. And considering how Gendry in ACOK wanted to leave Weasel and Hot Pie and Lommy behind, it’s interesting to see that he’s helping by taking in strays himself now, as if he thinks he may be able to atone for not saving Arya. Another reason is because the Brotherhood is actively searching for Arya as well. She is ever present on their minds. So yes, I believe part of Gendry’s change has to do with losing Arya, which goes to show how much he really cared about her. Not to mention (a tiny bit more symbolism, oopsie!), Gendry’s stay at the inn, waiting for Arya to return (I believe Gendry and the BWB are hoping that Arya is alive and will return to the inn) is a romantic aspect to the mythology of Weyland the Smith and his Swan Maiden/Valkyrie, and the aspect about the Brotherhood + Gendry searching the realm for Arya is also a romantic Cinderella motif, hence why I feel Gendry’s behavior here is supposed to have romantic subtext.

Extra: Another interesting aspect that I think foreshadows this future relationship is the meaning of Gendry’s name. Gendry is a nickname type of surname for a person who has inherited his family estates from his father-in-law, deriving its origin from the Old French word “gendre,” which meant “son-in-law.” And as we know if Arya and Gendry married when they were older, Arya wouldn’t be taking his name, but he hers, due to her higher status. So by marrying into the Stark family, he would be inheriting from his father-in-law Ned so to speak, even if it’s just inheriting the surname.

So this is everything I’ve compiled so far about Gendrya, that relies on just their foreshadowing and romantic undertones in the texts we have available but I’m positive I’ll be adding more to this list once TWOW officially releases. However, I still have a lot more to share that focuses on their symbolism and motifs throughout the story, so I’m definitely not done making Gendrya meta, far from it and I can’t wait to share it with you all!

And if anyone is interested in Arya’s and by extension Gendrya’s Cinderella motifs, you can find it at this link: A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes.

#arya stark #gendry waters #gendry baratheon #gendrya #asoiaf

349 notes · View notes

cappymightwrite · 3 years

Note

To think that Tolkien wrote an ending that's hopeful but also extremely sad. And ending that makes me melancholic without having to be grimdark.

And that's why he is the master still.

Hi! Sorry for the late response to this 😅 I've had it in my drafts half-written for a while, but better late than never...

Yes, I completely agree. And as we all know, GRRM has mentioned how he is very much a fan of Tolkein’s ending, in particular the scouring of the Shire (as much as he goes on and on about Aragorn’s tax policy, etc.):

I’ve said before that the tone of the ending that I’m going for is bittersweet. I mean, it’s no secret that Tolkien has been a huge influence on me, and I love the way he ended Lord of the Rings. It ends with victory, but it’s a bittersweet victory. Frodo is never whole again, and he goes away to the Undying Lands, and the other people live their lives. And the scouring of the Shire—brilliant piece of work, which I didn’t understand when I was 13 years old: “Why is this here? The story’s over?” But every time I read it I understand the brilliance of that segment more and more. All I can say is that’s the kind of tone I will be aiming for. Whether I achieve it or not, that will be up to people like you and my readers to judge. [source]

But what is Tolkein’s ending based on? Where are these themes of "bittersweetness" in Lord of the Rings drawn from? Tolkein's pal and collegue C. S. Lewis once commented that:

If we insist on asking for the moral of the story, that is its moral: a recall from facile optimism and wailing pessimism alike, to that hard, yet not quite desperate, insight into Man's unchanging predicament by which heroic ages have lived. It is here that the Norse affinity is strongest: hammer-strokes but with compassion.*

*As usual, academic citations will be listed at the end.

Elaborating on this statement, Gloriana St. Clair adds that "the concept of fate in Northern works, the need for courage, a conception of evil, the tragedy of mortality, the doom of the immortals, and the paradox of defeat are themes common to Northern literature and The Lord of the Rings." She goes on to note that "heroic ages have lived through courage, and courage is one of the great lessons of The Lord of the Rings." Likewise, one could argue the same of ASOIAF, because, as stated by Wyman Manderly:

"[...] not every man has it in him to be Prince Aemon the Dragonknight or Symeon Star-Eyes, and not every woman can be as brave as my Wylla and her sister Wynafryd [...]" – ADWD, Davos IV

And yet, we do have courageous figures in ASOIAF — case in point, the Manderly sisters — just as in LoTR, because courage is important. Far more important than pain and suffering. In all its bittersweetness, despite everything, it is important and worth upholding... even if things change, even if you can never be what you once were. Because "evil in The Lord of the Rings" and ASOIAF "is just as complex as courage is." That's why we have the bitter with the sweet. Indeed, what Tolkein (a professor of Anglo-Saxon Studies) says of Beowulf could equally apply to Aragorn and others, and in turn could be said of many of GRRM's characters:

He is a man, and that for him and many is sufficient tragedy [...] It is the theme in its deadly seriousness that begets the dignity of tone: lif is læne: eal scæceð leoht and lif somod [Life is transitory: light and life together hasten away].

In Tolkein's view, and in the view of the Old Icelandic saga writer, a person's courage becomes more worthy in spite of apparent hopelessness. E.g. in Njáls saga, the author values Njáll's sons' decision to go into their father's house despite knowing that their attackers will more than likely burn them alive there. Indeed, as noted by Marjorie J. Burns, "an important aspect of Tolkien's borrowing from the North is his attachment to the Nordic world view, to the Nordic emphasis on imminent or threatening destruction, a destruction which, in Norse mythology, appears to be in motion even at the dawn of creation, with Black Surt sitting in the fire realm, Muspell, 'already waiting for the end' and the Frost Giant Ymir, 'evil from the first,' oozing from his armpits a sweat that gives form to humankind." And we can see that kind of sentiment present in the fight against the Others and the Long Night, which I theorise draws a lot from descriptions of the Fimbulvetr and later Ragnarök in Norse mythology. In both Norse mythology, and in LoTR, you get a vivid sense of life cycles, "with an awareness that everything comes to an end, that, though Sauron may go, the elves will fade as well."

So, likewise, in ASOIAF the threats of ice and fire will be defeated but there will be a cost. The Starks will reunite and rebuild their home but there will have been a cost: those they lost along the way and the trauma they had to go through to reach this ending. It is sad, you're right, but just as you noted, that doesn't mean it isn't entirely devoid of hope, or that hope and happiness take a backseat. Because like my earlier comments on the importance of courage, hope arguably becomes more admirable and precious despite all the hurt that has gone before. In the Gylfaginning section of the Prose Edda we have this discussion on the aftermath of Ragnarök:

52: Then Gangleri asked, “What will be after heaven and earth and the whole world are burned? All the gods will be dead, together with the Einherjar and the whole of mankind. Didn’t you say earlier that each person will live in some world throughout all ages?”

And Third replied, “There will be, at that time, many good places to live. So also there will be many evil ones. It is best to be in Gimle in heaven. For those who take pleasure in good drink, plenty will be found in the hall called Brimir. It stands at the place Okolnir [Never Cold]. There is likewise a splendid hall standing on Nidafjoll [Dark Mountains]. It is made of red gold and is called Sindri [Sparkling]. In this hall, good and virtuous men live. [...]

Like in LoTR, losses have occured, major ones in fact, like the deaths of both Þórr and Óðinn — an ending to the old ways of living. And I think the conclusion to ASOIAF will have a similar reflective tone. The bittersweetness in the above passage is best summed up by the observation that whilst there will be "many good places to live [...] so also there will be many evil ones." The Long Night and the Others might be vanquished, the despots deposed, but inevitably hardships will come again, just like the Long Night happened once before, and is about to happen again, yet still... we find reasons to keep living.

53: Then Gangleri asked, “Will any of the gods be living then? Or will there be anything of the earth or the sky?”

High said, “The earth will shoot up from the sea, and it will be green and beautiful. Self-sown acres of crops will then grow. Vidar and Vali survive, as neither the flood nor Surt’s fire destroyed them, and they will inhabit Idavoll, the place where Asgard was earlier. To there will come Thor’s sons Modi and Magni, and they will have Mjollnir with them. Next Baldr and Hod will arrive from Hel. They will all sit together and talk among themselves, remembering mysteries and speaking of what had been, of the Midgard Serpent and the Fenriswolf. Then they will find in the grass the gold playing pieces which the Æsir had owned. [...]

“In a place called Hoddmimir’s Wood, two people will have hidden themselves from Surt’s fire. Called Lif [Life] and Leifthrasir [Life Yearner], they have the morning dew for their food. From these will come so many descendents that the whole world will be inhabited. [...]

“There is something else that you will find amazing. The sun will have had a daughter no less beautiful than she, and this daughter will follow the path of her mother [...]”

I mean... if the above description isn’t "a dream of spring" after a Fimbulvetr [Extreme Winter], then I don’t know what is! In the Gylafinning account of the aftermath of Ragnarök, like in the ending of LoTR, there is "victory, but it’s a bittersweet victory." This is "the kind of tone [George] will be aiming for." So, in a way... I kind of know how ASOIAF ends, because I know how LoTR ends, and perhaps more crucially, I know how the Gylfaginning ends:

A "green and beautiful" springtime after an extreme winter.

Notable loss, but also survival — Vidar and Vali are notably the sons of Óðinn, so you have this new generation taking over, which has been described as an allegory for the conversion to Christianity... but that's besides the point here.

The new powers will pick up the mantle of rulership ("the gold playing pieces") and will inhabit (and rebuild?) a notable place of previous power — if GRRM is using this Norse material as a big influence... could it be that this translates into forming a Great Council at Harrenhal as @agentrouka-blog has suggested?

"They will all sit together and talk among themselves, remembering mysteries and speaking of what had been, of the Midgard Serpent and the Fenriswolf" — if that doesn't sound like a council...

From Life and Life Yearner will come many descendents — Gee, I wonder who will be tasked with that? I wonder whose foreshadowing matches up with themes of regeneration and restoration, with desires for love and family?

"The sun will have a daughter no less beautiful than she, and this daughter will follow the path of her mother" — Again, themes of new powers taking over, descendents, etc., though perhaps more specifically alluding to the Young and More Beautiful Queen prophecy 👀👀👀 It depends on who we interpret as the sun in this equation... I can think of someone who fits in pretty well...

But in conclusion, to quote the Eddic poem Skírnismál, "fearlessness is better than a faint-heart for any man who puts his nose out of doors. The length of my life and the day of my death were fated long ago." This is the Northern spirit that Tolkien takes for the end of The Lord of the Rings notes Burns. In other words, "endings are inevitable, change will always come, and evil is never fully deposed." But likewise, neither is hope and courage ever fully extinguished. "The best that any of us can do is simply that: our best, and do it against all odds, having left our hearths and our comforts for the sake of ourselves and the world." So, we can learn a huge amount from Tolkein's ending and the Gylfaginning in regards to the probable conclusion of ASOIAF, and it's why I'm never in doubt about what "bittersweet" means. It's all laid out for us to see 😉

Thanks for the ask! I kinda just rambled on, but I hope it made sense what I was getting at 😅 any excuse to talk about Norsey things...

Academic Sources:

Burns, Marjorie J., "J. R. R. Tolkien and the Journey North," Mythlore: A A Journal of J. R. R. Tolkein, C. S. Lewis, Charles Williams, and Mythopoeic Literature, (1989), 4(15).

Lewis, C. S., "The Dethronement of Power" in Tolkein and the Critics, ed. by Neil D. Issacs and Rose A. Zimbardo. Notre Dame: Notre Dame University Press, 1968.

St. Clair, Gloriana, "An Overview of the Northern Influences on Tolkein's Works", Mythlore: A Journal of J. R. R. Tolkein, C. S. Lewis, Charles Williams, and Mythopoeic Literature, (1996), 2(21).

Tolkein, J. R. R., Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics. London: British Academy, 1937.

#cappy's thoughts #grrm and norse mythology #anti grimdark!!#sneaky bit of jonsa foreshadowing in there if you can spot it #jonsa #jon x sansa #just a sneaky bit not majorly so #mostly f u to grimdark #grrm and j rr tolkein #a bittersweet ending #grrm and medieval sources #literary references

139 notes · View notes

butterflies-dragons · 3 years

Text

Eugénie Grandet and Sansa Stark

Art credit: 1) Chinese Book Cover for "Eugénie Grandet" by Margarita Winkler; 2) Lady Sansa by Batata-Tasha

She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother's queen.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

Channeling my inner Sansa Stark in order to avoid the terrible reality of late, I lost myself in some of the French, Spanish and Russian classics. Eugenié Grandet (1833) by Honoré de Balzac was one of them.

Eugenié Grandet is a book that Sansa Stark would love:

They were beautiful songs, but terribly sad. —A Clash of Kings - Sansa VI

Eugénie (23) and Sansa (13) are kind, generous, eager to please and extremely romantic girls.

Although they are both dutiful daughters, they have a strained relationship with their fathers and at some point they defy them out of love.

The main different between Eugénie and Sansa, aside their age, is their education. While Eugénie is a provincial girl from Saumur with almost zero formal education, Sansa, a northern girl, comes from high nobility and has been educated to be the perfect lady and queen.

Eugénie and Sansa aren't exactly the same, but while reading Balzac's novel it's very difficult not to find them similar. Even Eugénie's house in Saumur resembles Winterfell and the North, the same way Eugénie's walnut tree from her garden resembles the Heart Tree from Winterfell's godswood.

I'm sure that GRRM knows about Honoré del Balzac, however I have no certainty if he has read Eugénie Grandet. But I would not be surprised to know that he did read the novel, and in that case I would even suspect that Eugénie inspired him, even a little, while creating Sansa.

It could all be just a coincidence, of course.

FAIR WARNING : EUGÉNIE GRANDET SPOILERS

Saumur / The North & Winterfell

Illustration by René ben Sussan for Eugénie Grandet by Honoré de Balzac - Heritage Press, 1961.

There are houses in certain provincial towns whose aspect inspires melancholy, akin to that called forth by sombre cloisters, dreary moorlands, or the desolation of ruins. Within these houses there is, perhaps, the silence of the cloister, the barrenness of moors, the skeleton of ruins; life and movement are so stagnant there that a stranger might think them uninhabited, were it not that he encounters suddenly the pale, cold glance of a motionless person, whose half-monastic face peers beyond the window-casing at the sound of an unaccustomed step.

Such elements of sadness formed the physiognomy, as it were, of a dwelling-house in Saumur which stands at the end of the steep street leading to the chateau in the upper part of the town. This street—now little frequented, hot in summer, cold in winter, dark in certain sections—is remarkable for the resonance of its little pebbly pavement, always clean and dry, for the narrowness of its tortuous road-way, for the peaceful stillness of its houses, which belong to the Old town and are over-topped by the ramparts. Houses three centuries old are still solid, though built of wood, and their divers aspects add to the originality which commends this portion of Saumur to the attention of artists and antiquaries.

(...) The whole history of France is there.

(...) The house in Saumur, without sun, without warmth, always in shadow, melancholy, is an image of her life.

—Eugénie Grandet

* * *

The vast and frigid realm of the Kings of Winter, the Starks of Winterfell, is generally considered the first and oldest of the Seven Kingdoms, in that it has endured, unconquered, for the longest. The vagaries of geography and history set the North apart from their southron neighbors.

It is often said that the North is as large as the other six kingdoms put together, but the truth is somewhat less grand: the North, as ruled today by House Stark of Winterfell, comprises little more than a third of the realm. Beginning at the southern edge of the Neck, the domains of the Starks extend as far north as the New Gift (itself part of their realm until King Jaehaerys I convinced Winterfell to cede those lands to the Night's Watch). Within the North are great forests, windswept plains, hills and valleys, rocky shores, and snow-crowned mountains. The North is a cold land—much of it rising moorlands and high plains giving way to mountains in its northern reaches—and this makes it far less fertile than the reaches of the south. Snow has been known to fall there even in summer, and it is deadly in winter.

—The World of Ice and Fire - The North

Robert snorted. "Bogs and forests and fields, and scarcely a decent inn north of the Neck. I've never seen such a vast emptiness. Where are all your people?"

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard I

The rising sun sent fingers of light through the pale white mists of dawn. A wide plain spread out beneath them, bare and brown, its flatness here and there relieved by long, low hummocks. Ned pointed them out to his king. "The barrows of the First Men."

Robert frowned. "Have we ridden onto a graveyard?"

"There are barrows everywhere in the north, Your Grace," Ned told him. "This land is old."

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard II

Sewing and Embroidery

Illustration by René ben Sussan for Eugénie Grandet by Honoré de Balzac - Heritage Press, 1961.

By the window nearest to the door stood a straw chair, whose legs were raised on castors to lift its occupant, Madame Grandet, to a height from which she could see the passers-by. A work-table of stained cherry-wood filled up the embrasure, and the little armchair of Eugenie Grandet stood beside it. In this spot the lives had flowed peacefully onward for fifteen years, in a round of constant work from the month of April to the month of November. On the first day of the latter month they took their winter station by the chimney.

(...) Mother and daughter took charge of the family linen, and spent their days so conscientiously upon a labor properly that of working-women, that if Eugenie wished to embroider a collar for her mother she was forced to take the time from sleep, and deceive her father to obtain the necessary light. For a long time the miser had given out the tallow candle to his daughter and la Grande Nanon just as he gave out every morning the bread and other necessaries for the daily consumption.

(...) In short,—if it is possible to sum up the effect this elegant being produced upon an ignorant young girl perpetually employed in darning stockings or in mending her father’s clothes.

(...) "and your cousin (...) who will spend her life in darning towels.”

(...) Her treasuries were not the millions whose revenues were rolling up; they were Charles’s dressing-case, the portraits hanging above her bed, the jewels recovered from her father and proudly spread upon a bed of wool in a drawer of the oaken cabinet, the thimble of her aunt, used for a while by her mother, which she wore religiously as she worked at a piece of embroidery,—a Penelope’s web, begun for the sole purpose of putting upon her finger that gold so rich in memories.

—Eugénie Grandet

* * *

Sansa's needlework was exquisite. Everyone said so. "Sansa's work is as pretty as she is," Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. "She has such fine, delicate hands."

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

Underestimated

"We will try to relieve the monotony of your visit here. If you stay all the time with Monsieur Grandet, good heavens! what will become of you? Your uncle is a sordid miser who thinks of nothing but his vines; your aunt is a pious soul who can’t put two ideas together; and your cousin is a little fool, without education, perfectly common, no fortune, who will spend her life in darning towels.”

(...) “Not at all, monsieur l’abbe. This young man cannot fail to see that Eugenie is a little fool,—a girl without the least freshness. Did you notice her to-night? She was as yellow as a quince.”

—Eugénie Grandet

* * *

"I … I had not thought, my lord." "Your Grace," he said sharply. "You truly are a stupid girl, aren't you? My mother says so."

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI

The king studied her a moment. "Perhaps you're not so stupid as Mother says." He raised his voice. "Did you hear my lady, Dontos? From this day on, you're my new fool. You can sleep with Moon Boy and dress in motley."

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

. . . ah, you're still a stupid little bird, aren't you? Singing all the songs they taught you . . .

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa II

Sansa reddened. Any fool would have realized that no woman would be happy about being called "the Queen of Thorns." Maybe I truly am as stupid as Cersei Lannister says.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa I

The woman that calls Eugénie a "little fool" is Madame des Grassins, who despite underestimating Mademoiselle Grandet, wants her to marry her son Adolphe.

In a similar way, Cersei Lannister underestimates Sansa, believing her unworthy of her beloved son Joffrey.

Romantics

They were able to examine Charles at their leisure without fearing to displease the master of the house. Grandet was absorbed in the long letter which he held in his hand; and to read it he had taken the only candle upon the card-table, paying no heed to his guests or their pleasure. Eugenie, to whom such a type of perfection, whether of dress or of person, was absolutely unknown, thought she beheld in her cousin a being descended from seraphic spheres. She inhaled with delight the fragrance wafted from the graceful curls of that brilliant head. She would have liked to touch the soft kid of the delicate gloves. She envied Charles his small hands, his complexion, the freshness and refinement of his features. In short,—if it is possible to sum up the effect this elegant being produced upon an ignorant young girl perpetually employed in darning stockings or in mending her father’s clothes, and whose life flowed on beneath these unclean rafters, seeing none but occasional passers along the silent street,—this vision of her cousin roused in her soul an emotion of delicate desire like that inspired in a young man by the fanciful pictures of women drawn by Westall for the English “Keepsakes,” and that engraved by the Findens with so clever a tool that we fear, as we breathe upon the paper, that the celestial apparitions may be wafted away. Charles drew from his pocket a handkerchief embroidered by the great lady now travelling in Scotland. As Eugenie saw this pretty piece of work, done in the vacant hours which were lost to love, she looked at her cousin to see if it were possible that he meant to make use of it. The manners of the young man, his gestures, the way in which he took up his eye-glass, his affected superciliousness, his contemptuous glance at the coffer which had just given so much pleasure to the rich heiress, and which he evidently regarded as without value, or even as ridiculous,—all these things, which shocked the Cruchots and the des Grassins, pleased Eugenie so deeply that before she slept she dreamed long dreams of her phoenix cousin.

(...) In the pure and monotonous life of young girls there comes a delicious hour when the sun sheds its rays into their soul, when the flowers express their thoughts, when the throbbings of the heart send upward to the brain their fertilizing warmth and melt all thoughts into a vague desire,—day of innocent melancholy and of dulcet joys! When babes begin to see, they smile; when a young girl first perceives the sentiment of nature, she smiles as she smiled when an infant. If light is the first love of life, is not love a light to the heart? The moment to see within the veil of earthly things had come for Eugenie. —Eugénie Grandet * * * All she wanted was for things to be nice and pretty, the way they were in the songs.

(...) It was a great honor to ride with the queen, and besides, Prince Joffrey might be there. Her betrothed. Just thinking it made her feel a strange fluttering inside, even though they were not to marry for years and years. Sansa did not really know Joffrey yet, but she was already in love with him. He was all she ever dreamt her prince should be, tall and handsome and strong, with hair like gold. She treasured every chance to spend time with him, few as they were.

(...) He took her by the arm and led her away from the wheelhouse, and Sansa's spirits took flight. A whole day with her prince! She gazed at Joffrey worshipfully. He was so gallant, she thought. The way he had rescued her from Ser Ilyn and the Hound, why, it was almost like the songs, like the time Serwyn of the Mirror Shield saved the Princess Daeryssa from the giants, or Prince Aemon the Dragonknight championing Queen Naerys's honor against evil Ser Morgil's slanders.

The touch of Joffrey's hand on her sleeve made her heart beat faster. "

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I Sansa rode to the Hand's tourney with Septa Mordane and Jeyne Poole, in a litter with curtains of yellow silk so fine she could see right through them. They turned the whole world gold. Beyond the city walls, a hundred pavilions had been raised beside the river, and the common folk came out in the thousands to watch the games. The splendor of it all took Sansa's breath away; the shining armor, the great chargers caparisoned in silver and gold, the shouts of the crowd, the banners snapping in the wind … and the knights themselves, the knights most of all. "It is better than the songs," she whispered when they found the places that her father had promised her, among the high lords and ladies. Sansa was dressed beautifully that day, in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair, and she knew they were looking at her and smiling. They watched the heroes of a hundred songs ride forth, each more fabulous than the last.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II

She loved King’s Landing; the pagaentry of the court, the high lords and ladies in their velvets and silks and gemstones, the great city with all its people. The tournament had been the most magical time of her whole life, and there was so much she had not seen yet, harvest feasts and masked balls and mummer shows. She could not bear the thought of losing it all.

[…] They were going to take it all away; the tournaments and the court and her prince, everything, they were going to send her back to the bleak grey walls of Winterfell and lock her up forever. Her life was over before it had begun.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

Eugénie and her deep infatuation with her Parisian cousin Charles Grandet, reminds me a lot of Marianne Dashwood and John Willoughby from Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility.

Charles was a prince in Eugénie's eyes, with all his dandy manners and Parisian refinement. Charles was the South and the pretty songs for Eugénie, the same way Prince Joffrey and even Ser Loras were the South and the pretty songs for Sansa.

Dressing well as a weapon

An early riser, like all provincial girls, she was up betimes and said her prayers, and then began the business of dressing,—a business which henceforth was to have a meaning. First she brushed and smoothed her chestnut hair and twisted its heavy masses to the top of her head with the utmost care, preventing the loose tresses from straying, and giving to her head a symmetry which heightened the timid candor of her face; for the simplicity of these accessories accorded well with the innocent sincerity of its lines. As she washed her hands again and again in the cold water which hardened and reddened the skin, she looked at her handsome round arms and asked herself what her cousin did to make his hands so softly white, his nails so delicately curved. She put on new stockings and her prettiest shoes. She laced her corset straight, without skipping a single eyelet. And then, wishing for the first time in her life to appear to advantage, she felt the joy of having a new gown, well made, which rendered her attractive. —Eugénie Grandet * * * "Do remind her to dress nicely today. The grey velvet, perhaps. We are all invited to ride with the queen and Princess Myrcella in the royal wheelhouse, and we must look our best." Sansa already looked her best. She had brushed out her long auburn hair until it shone, and picked her nicest blue silks. —A Game of Thrones - Sansa I Sansa was dressed beautifully that day, in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair, and she knew they were looking at her and smiling. —A Game of Thrones - Sansa II "I will need hot water for my bath, please," she told them, "and perfume, and some powder to hide this bruise." The right side of her face was swollen and beginning to ache, but she knew Joffrey would want her to be beautiful. —A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI Knowing that Joffrey would require her to attend the tourney in his honor, Sansa had taken special care with her face and clothes. She wore a gown of pale purple silk and a moonstone hair net that had been a gift from Joffrey. The gown had long sleeves to hide the bruises on her arms. Those were Joffrey's gifts as well. —A Clash of Kings - Sansa I I have to look pretty, Joff likes me to look pretty, he's always liked me in this gown, this color. She smoothed the cloth down. The fabric was tight across her chest. —A Clash of Kings - Sansa III

Here, while Eugénie uses the business of dressing to try to impress and gain the affections of her cousin Charles, Sansa uses the same resource as a shield against Joffrey's ill temper and to cover the bruises left on her skin by Joffrey's ill temper.

Complimenting someone's name

“Is anything the matter, my cousin?” he said. “Hush!” said Madame Grandet to Eugenie, who was about to answer; “you know, my daughter, that your father charged us not to speak to monsieur—” “Say Charles,” said young Grandet. “Ah! you are called Charles? What a beautiful name!” cried Eugenie. —Eugénie Grandet * * * "I don't even know your name." "Gilly, he called me. For the gillyflower." "That's pretty." He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name. He could not help the girl, but perhaps the courtesy would please her. "Is it Craster who frightens you, Gilly?" —A Clash of Kings - Jon III "I . . . I could call myself after my mother . . ." "Catelyn? A bit too obvious . . . but after my mother, that would serve. Alayne. Do you like it?" "Alayne is pretty." Sansa hoped she would remember. —A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

Kissing Cousins

“My dear cousin—” “Hush, hush! my cousin, not so loud; we must not wake others. See,” she said, opening her purse, “here are the savings of a poor girl who wants nothing. Charles, accept them! This morning I was ignorant of the value of money; you have taught it to me. It is but a means, after all. A cousin is almost a brother; you can surely borrow the purse of your sister.” —Eugénie Grandet

Illustration by René ben Sussan for Eugénie Grandet by Honoré de Balzac - Heritage Press, 1961.

When the two lovers were alone in the garden, Charles said to Eugenie, drawing her down on the old bench beneath the walnut-tree,— “I did right to trust Alphonse; he has done famously. He has managed my affairs with prudence and good faith. I now owe nothing in Paris. All my things have been sold; and he tells me that he has taken the advice of an old sea-captain and spent three thousand francs on a commercial outfit of European curiosities which will be sure to be in demand in the Indies. He has sent my trunks to Nantes, where a ship is loading for San Domingo. In five days, Eugenie, we must bid each other farewell—perhaps forever, at least for years. My outfit and ten thousand francs, which two of my friends send me, are a very small beginning. I cannot look to return for many years. My dear cousin, do not weight your life in the scales with mine; I may perish; some good marriage may be offered to you—” “Do you love me?” she said. “Oh, yes! indeed, yes!” he answered, with a depth of tone that revealed an equal depth of feeling. “I shall wait, Charles—Good heavens! there is my father at his window,” she said, repulsing her cousin, who leaned forward to kiss her. She ran quickly under the archway. Charles followed her. When she saw him, she retreated to the foot of the staircase and opened the swing-door; then, scarcely knowing where she was going, Eugenie reached the corner near Nanon’s den, in the darkest end of the passage. There Charles caught her hand and drew her to his heart. Passing his arm about her waist, he made her lean gently upon him. Eugenie no longer resisted; she received and gave the purest, the sweetest, and yet, withal, the most unreserved of kisses. “Dear Eugenie, a cousin is better than a brother, for he can marry you,” said Charles.

(...) After the kiss taken in the passage, the hours fled for Eugenie with frightful rapidity. Sometimes she thought of following her cousin. Those who have known that most endearing of all passions,—the one whose duration is each day shortened by time, by age, by mortal illness, by human chances and fatalities,—they will understand the poor girl’s tortures. She wept as she walked in the garden, now so narrow to her, as indeed the court, the house, the town all seemed. She launched in thought upon the wide expanse of the ocean he was about to traverse. At last the eve of his departure came. That morning, in the absence of Grandet and of Nanon, the precious case which contained the two portraits was solemnly installed in the only drawer of the old cabinet which could be locked, where the now empty velvet purse was lying. This deposit was not made without a goodly number of tears and kisses. When Eugenie placed the key within her bosom she had no courage to forbid the kiss with which Charles sealed the act.

“It shall never leave that place, my friend,” she said.

“Then my heart will be always there.”

“Ah! Charles, it is not right,” she said, as though she blamed him.

“Are we not married?” he said. “I have thy promise,—then take mine.”

“Thine; I am thine forever!” they each said, repeating the words twice over.

No promise made upon this earth was ever purer. The innocent sincerity of Eugenie had sanctified for a moment the young man’s love.

—Eugénie Grandet * * * How would you like to marry your cousin, the Lord Robert?" —A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI Before she could summon the servants, however, Sweetrobin threw his skinny arms around her and kissed her. It was a little boy's kiss, and clumsy. Everything Robert Arryn did was clumsy. If I close my eyes I can pretend he is the Knight of Flowers. Ser Loras had given Sansa Stark a red rose once, but he had never kissed her . . . and no Tyrell would ever kiss Alayne Stone. Pretty as she was, she had been born on the wrong side of the blanket. —A Feast for Crows - Alayne II "I don't want you to marry him, Alayne. I am the Lord of the Eyrie, and I forbid it." He sounded as if he were about to cry. "You should marry me instead. We could sleep in the same bed every night, and you could read me stories." (...) She put a finger to his lips. "I know what you want, but it cannot be. I am no fit wife for you. I am bastard born." "I don't care. I love you best of anyone. " (...) "You must have a proper wife, a trueborn maid of noble birth." "No. I want to marry you, Alayne." Once your lady mother intended that very thing, but I was trueborn then, and noble. (...) "The Lord of the Eyrie can do as he likes. Can't I still love you, even if I have to marry her? —The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

Eugénie and her cousin Charles's brief romance is nothing like any of Sansa's experiences with suitors, but it reminds me a bit of Sansa and her little cousin Robert Arryn interactions.

Despite looking at his provincial relatives with disdain at first, after knowing about the financial disgrace and death of his father, Charles gets use to the humble and monotonous life of Saumur and especially gets fond of Eugénie's kindness and generosity.

In a similar way, despite the violent events from Sansa's snow castle chapter in A Storm of Swords, after the the death of his mother Lysa, Sweetrobin clings to Sansa/Alayne as a mother figure and later love interest.

Charles is nothing like Sweetrobin though, he is more similar to men like Harrold Hardyng and John Willoughby from Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility.

At the end, similar to John Willoughby's actions, Charles Grandet chooses to marry a girl he doesn't love to re-gain his high status in Parisian society and a nobility title, unbeknownst that Eugénie had become extremely rich, richer than him and his new bride combined.

Harrold Hardyng is not Sansa's cousin but Robert Arryn's cousin and heir. Harry consented the betrothal to Alayne only to gain the political support from Petyr Baelish.

And while cousin Charles's kisses mean love's kisses to Eugénie, cousin Robert's unrequited kisses remind Sansa of another forced and unrequited kisses from the past that left only trauma and fear in her.

But despite all her awful experiences from unworthy suitors, Sansa still longs to know kisses of love, and she associates those with Snow and she happens to has a cousin named Snow. More about this later.

You will know it some day / You may learn that one day

It was a death worthy of her life,—a Christian death; and is not that sublime? In the month of October, 1822, her virtues, her angelic patience, her love for her daughter, seemed to find special expression; and then she passed away without a murmur. Lamb without spot, she went to heaven, regretting only the sweet companion of her cold and dreary life, for whom her last glance seemed to prophesy a destiny of sorrows. She shrank from leaving her ewe-lamb, white as herself, alone in the midst of a selfish world that sought to strip her of her fleece and grasp her treasures. “My child,” she said as she expired, “there is no happiness except in heaven; you will know it some day.” (...) Terrible and utter disaster! The ship went down, leaving not a spar, not a plank, on a vast ocean of hope! Some women when they see themselves abandoned will try to tear their lover from the arms of a rival, they will kill her, and rush to the ends of the earth,—to the scaffold, to their tomb. That, no doubt, is fine; the motive of the crime is a great passion, which awes even human justice. Other women bow their heads and suffer in silence; they go their way dying, resigned, weeping, forgiving, praying, and recollecting, till they draw their last breath. This is love,—true love, the love of angels, the proud love which lives upon its anguish and dies of it. Such was Eugenie’s love after she had read that dreadful letter. She raised her eyes to heaven, thinking of the last words uttered by her dying mother, who, with the prescience of death, had looked into the future with clear and penetrating eyes: Eugenie, remembering that prophetic death, that prophetic life, measured with one glance her own destiny. Nothing was left for her; she could only unfold her wings, stretch upward to the skies, and live in prayer until the day of her deliverance. “My mother was right,” she said, weeping. “Suffer—and die!” —Eugénie Grandet * * * "Life is not a song, sweetling. You may learn that one day to your sorrow." —A Game of Thrones - Sansa III "Life is not a song, sweetling," he'd told her. "You may learn that one day to your sorrow." —A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI The moment came back to her vividly. "You told me that life was not a song. That I would learn that one day, to my sorrow." —A Storm of Swords - Sansa V

This is a parallel but also a contrast between Eugénie and Sansa.

Eugénie's mother wasn't happy with her husband. Monsieur Felix Grandet was an awful husband and father. His only love was gold. That's why at her hour of death, Madame Grandet envisions a destiny of sorrows for her daughter, knowing well that not only the Cruchots and des Grassins coveted Eugénie's inheritance, but it was her own father, Monsieur Grandet, the most dangerous threat to Eugénie's welfare.

On the other hand, Catelyn Stark, Sansa's mother, was very happy with Eddard Stark. Ned was a good husband but a terrible father. Being aware of her good luck in her marriage, Catelyn said this to his firstborn son Robb: "We're all just songs in the end. If we are lucky." —A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V.

Catelyn's words of hope to her son contrast to Petyr Baelish's words of sorrow to Sansa, not only because the bad omen, but because he is an active player in the sorrows that await Sansa and her family.

Strained relationship with their fathers

Illustration by René ben Sussan for Eugénie Grandet by Honoré de Balzac - Heritage Press, 1961.

On the morrow Grandet, in pursuance of a custom he had begun since Eugenie’s imprisonment, took a certain number of turns up and down the little garden; he had chosen the hour when Eugenie brushed and arranged her hair. When the old man reached the walnut-tree he hid behind its trunk and remained for a few moments watching his daughter’s movements, hesitating, perhaps, between the course to which the obstinacy of his character impelled him and his natural desire to embrace his child. Sometimes he sat down on the rotten old bench where Charles and Eugenie had vowed eternal love; and then she, too, looked at her father secretly in the mirror before which she stood. If he rose and continued his walk, she sat down obligingly at the window and looked at the angle of the wall where the pale flowers hung, where the Venus-hair grew from the crevices with the bindweed and the sedum,—a white or yellow stone-crop very abundant in the vineyards of Saumur and at Tours. Maitre Cruchot came early, and found the old wine-grower sitting in the fine June weather on the little bench, his back against the division wall of the garden, engaged in watching his daughter. —Eugénie Grandet * * *

He had only to look at Sansa's face to feel the rage twisting inside him once again. The last fortnight of their journey had been a misery. Sansa blamed Arya and told her that it should have been Nymeria who died. And Arya was lost after she heard what had happened to her butcher's boy. Sansa cried herself to sleep, Arya brooded silently all day long, and Eddard Stark dreamed of a frozen hell reserved for the Starks of Winterfell.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard IV

Monsieur Felix Grandet and Lord Eddard Stark were awful fathers to Eugénie and Sansa. They both used their daughters for their own business but they never tried to understand the girls. They both could only watch them from apart not knowing how to approach them.

The severity of Père Grandet and Lord father Stark towards their daughters made Eugénie and Sansa defy them for the first time when they fell in love with Charles and Joffrey.

Ned was not the awful person that Monsieur Grandet was, though. Despite all his flaws as Sansa's father, he gave his own life in order to save Sansa from the same fate.

Melancholic Beauty

When his daughter came down the winding street, accompanied by Nanon, on her way to Mass or Vespers, the inhabitants ran to the windows and examined with intense curiosity the bearing of the rich heiress and her countenance, which bore the impress of angelic gentleness and melancholy. (...) “Mademoiselle, the best way to stop such rumors is to procure your liberty,” answered the old notary respectfully, struck with the beauty which seclusion, melancholy, and love had stamped upon her face. —Eugénie Grandet * * * Their litter had been sitting in the sun, and it was very warm inside the curtains. As they lurched into motion, Tyrion reclined on an elbow while Sansa sat staring at her hands. She is just as comely as the Tyrell girl. Her hair was a rich autumn auburn, her eyes a deep Tully blue. Grief had given her a haunted, vulnerable look; if anything, it had only made her more beautiful. —A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

Although it is a bit morbid to find beauty in someone's grief and misery, this image of our heroines being graceful while in disgrace got my attention.

This regard of Eugénie and Sansa comes from two men that wanted to reach them and gain their favor. Monsieur Cruchot, the notary, wanted Eugénie to marry his nephew, President Cruchot de Bonfons, while Tyrion Lannister, already married to Sansa, wishes to get her affections despite their forced marriage.

This is the point of view of two men that wanted to play the hero of a damsel in distress, but they are not the heroes that those fair maids wished for.

Love's kisses / Lover's kisses

Her imprisonment and the condemnation of her father were as nothing to her. Had she not a map of the world, the little bench, the garden, the angle of the wall? Did she not taste upon her lips the honey that love’s kisses left there? She was ignorant for a time that the town talked about her, just as Grandet himself was ignorant of it. Pious and pure in heart before God, her conscience and her love helped her to suffer patiently the wrath and vengeance of her father. —Eugénie Grandet A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here. Yet she stepped out all the same. Her boots tore ankle-deep holes into the smooth white surface of the snow, yet made no sound. Sansa drifted past frosted shrubs and thin dark trees, and wondered if she were still dreaming. Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover's kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams. —A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

While Eugénie's love to Charles gives her strength and dignify her in her tribulations, Sansa, in front of a beautiful winter scenery, feels soiled by her southern experiences. She feels that she doesn't belong in that pure, innocent world, as white as Snow.

Yet Sansa, defying her supposed maculated fate, embraces the beauty of the falling Snow that reminds her of home, and compared the sensation of the snowflakes brushing her face to lover's kisses.

The calling of the Snow at dawn was too powerful for Sansa to resist it. It was like the Snow telling her, you are wrong, you belong with me, let me kiss you to prove it.

"Jon Snow?" she blurted out, surprised.

"Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose."

She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

No one will ever marry me for love

Illustration by René ben Sussan for Eugénie Grandet by Honoré de Balzac - Heritage Press, 1961.

Only six individuals had a right of entrance to Monsieur Grandet’s house. The most important of the first three was a nephew of Monsieur Cruchot. Since his appointment as president of the Civil courts of Saumur this young man had added the name of Bonfons to that of Cruchot. He now signed himself C. de Bonfons. Any litigant so ill-advised as to call him Monsieur Cruchot would soon be made to feel his folly in court. The magistrate protected those who called him Monsieur le president, but he favored with gracious smiles those who addressed him as Monsieur de Bonfons. Monsieur le president was thirty-three years old, and possessed the estate of Bonfons (Boni Fontis), worth seven thousand francs a year; he expected to inherit the property of his uncle the notary and that of another uncle, the Abbe Cruchot, a dignitary of the chapter of Saint-Martin de Tours, both of whom were thought to be very rich. These three Cruchots, backed by a goodly number of cousins, and allied to twenty families in the town, formed a party, like the Medici in Florence; like the Medici, the Cruchots had their Pazzi.

Madame des Grassins, mother of a son twenty-three years of age, came assiduously to play cards with Madame Grandet, hoping to marry her dear Adolphe to Mademoiselle Eugenie. Monsieur des Grassins, the banker, vigorously promoted the schemes of his wife by means of secret services constantly rendered to the old miser, and always arrived in time upon the field of battle. The three des Grassins likewise had their adherents, their cousins, their faithful allies. On the Cruchot side the abbe, the Talleyrand of the family, well backed-up by his brother the notary, sharply contested every inch of ground with his female adversary, and tried to obtain the rich heiress for his nephew the president.

This secret warfare between the Cruchots and des Grassins, the prize thereof being the hand in marriage of Eugenie Grandet, kept the various social circles of Saumur in violent agitation. Would Mademoiselle Grandet marry Monsieur le president or Monsieur Adolphe des Grassins?

(...) “If I had a man for myself I’d—I’d follow him to hell, yes, I’d exterminate myself for him; but I’ve none. I shall die and never know what life is. Would you believe, mamz’elle, that old Cornoiller (a good fellow all the same) is always round my petticoats for the sake of my money,—just for all the world like the rats who come smelling after the master’s cheese and paying court to you? I see it all; I’ve got a shrewd eye, though I am as big as a steeple. Well, mamz’elle, it pleases me, but it isn’t love.”

(...) She (Eugénie's mother) shrank from leaving her ewe-lamb, white as herself, alone in the midst of a selfish world that sought to strip her of her fleece and grasp her treasures.

(...) (Eugénie) Madame de Bonfons (sometimes ironically spoken of as mademoiselle) inspires for the most part reverential respect: and yet that noble heart, beating only with tenderest emotions, has been, from first to last, subjected to the calculations of human selfishness; money has cast its frigid influence upon that hallowed life and taught distrust of feelings to a woman who is all feeling.

—Eugénie Grandet

* * *

“If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done.”

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard I

A pity Ned Stark had taken his daughters south; elsewise Theon could have tightened his grip on Winterfell by marrying one of them. Sansa was a pretty little thing too, and by now likely even ripe for bedding. But she was a thousand leagues away, in the clutches of the Lannisters. A shame.

—A Clash of Kings - Theon IV

It came to her suddenly that she had stood in this very spot before, on the day Lord Eddard Stark had lost his head. That was not supposed to happen. Joff was supposed to spare his life and send him to the Wall. Stark’s eldest son would have followed him as Lord of Winterfell, but Sansa would have stayed at court, a hostage. Varys and Littlefinger had worked out the terms, and Ned Stark had swallowed his precious honor and confessed his treason to save his daughter’s empty little head. I would have made Sansa a good marriage. A Lannister marriage. Not Joff, of course, but Lancel might have suited, or one of his younger brothers. Petyr Baelish had offered to wed the girl himself, she recalled, but of course that was impossible; he was much too lowborn. If Joff had only done as he was told, Winterfell would never have gone to war, and Father would have dealt with Robert’s brothers.

—A Dance with Dragons - Cersei II

“I will be safe in Highgarden. Willas will keep me safe.” “But he does not know you,” Dontos insisted, “and he will not love you. Jonquil, Jonquil, open your sweet eyes, these Tyrells care nothing for you. It’s your claim they mean to wed.” “My claim?” She was lost for a moment. “Sweetling,” he told her, “you are heir to Winterfell.”

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

“Yes. You are a ward of the crown. The king stands in your father’s place, since your brother is an attainted traitor. That means he has every right to dispose of your hand. You are to marry my brother Tyrion.”

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

“The girl’s happiness is not my purpose, nor should it be yours. Our alliances in the south may be as solid as Casterly Rock, but there remains the north to win, and the key to the north is Sansa Stark.” […] “She must marry a Lannister, and soon.” “The man who weds Sansa Stark can claim Winterfell in her name,” his uncle Kevan put in.

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion III

“How would you like to marry your cousin, the Lord Robert?” The thought made Sansa weary. All she knew of Robert Arryn was that he was a little boy, and sickly. It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love. But lying came easy to her now. “I … can scarcely wait to meet him, my lady. But he is still a child, is he not?”

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

As you can see, Monsieur Grandet's banker des Grassins wished Eugénie to marry his son Adolphe, while his lawyer Monsieur Cruchot wished Eugénie to marry his nephew President Cruchot de Bonfons. Both, the Cruchots and des Grassins, coveted Eugénie's inheritance.

In a similar way, the Lannisters, the Tyrells, Theon Greyjoy, Petyr Baelish, Harrold Hardyng, and even Lysa Tully in the name of his son Robert Arryn, coveted Sansa's claim to the North and Winterfell, with all the lands, money, armies and political power that come with the name Stark.

So, when I read these lines, 188 years after Balzac wrote them:

(...) and yet that noble heart, beating only with tenderest emotions, has been, from first to last, subjected to the calculations of human selfishness; money has cast its frigid influence upon that hallowed life and taught distrust of feelings to a woman who is all feeling.

I couldn't help but think about Sansa Stark and one of the saddest quotes from the ASOIAF series:

It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love.

Walnut Tree / Heart Tree

Illustration by René ben Sussan for Eugénie Grandet by Honoré de Balzac - Heritage Press, 1961.

When the two lovers were alone in the garden, Charles said to Eugenie, drawing her down on the old bench beneath the walnut-tree,— (...) I cannot look to return for many years. My dear cousin, do not weight your life in the scales with mine; I may perish; some good marriage may be offered to you—”

“Do you love me?” she said.

“Oh, yes! indeed, yes!” he answered, with a depth of tone that revealed an equal depth of feeling.

“I shall wait, Charles—Good heavens! there is my father at his window,” she said, repulsing her cousin, who leaned forward to kiss her.

(...) When Eugenie placed the key within her bosom she had no courage to forbid the kiss with which Charles sealed the act.

“It shall never leave that place, my friend,” she said.

“Then my heart will be always there.”

“Ah! Charles, it is not right,” she said, as though she blamed him.

“Are we not married?” he said. “I have thy promise,—then take mine.”

“Thine; I am thine forever!” they each said, repeating the words twice over.

(...) In the mornings she sat pensive beneath the walnut-tree, on the worm-eaten bench covered with gray lichens, where they had said to each other so many precious things, so many trifles, where they had built the pretty castles of their future home. She thought of the future now as she looked upward to the bit of sky which was all the high walls suffered her to see; then she turned her eyes to the angle where the sun crept on, and to the roof above the room in which he had slept. Hers was the solitary love, the persistent love, which glides into every thought and becomes the substance, or, as our fathers might have said, the tissue of life.

(...) Sometimes he sat down on the rotten old bench where Charles and Eugenie had vowed eternal love; and then she, too, looked at her father secretly in the mirror before which she stood.

(...) At the beginning of August in the same year, Eugenie was sitting on the little wooden bench where her cousin had sworn to love her eternally, and where she usually breakfasted if the weather were fine. The poor girl was happy, for the moment, in the fresh and joyous summer air, letting her memory recall the great and the little events of her love and the catastrophes which had followed it.

—Eugénie Grandet

As you can see, Eugénie's walnut tree is the heart of her house in Saumur. In the old wooden bench beneath that immense tree, the cousin lovers Eugénie and Charles Grandet exchanged vows of eternal love. As Charles said later, beneath that walnut tree they got married.

Eugénie sat in that same wooden bench for years, remembering and waiting for her lover. Charles, on the other hand, forget his promises of eternal love, broke those vows and married another woman.

In a similar way, the weirwood trees are called heart trees, the weirwood from Winterfell's godswood is called the Heart of Winterfell, and godswoods are a sacred places for praying and meditation, under the weirwood tress lovers kiss and make promises, and heroes vows to protect the realms of men:

At the center of the grove an ancient weirwood brooded over a small pool where the waters were black and cold. “The heart tree,” Ned called it. The weirwood’s bark was white as bone, its leaves dark red, like a thousand bloodstained hands. A face had been carved in the trunk of the great tree, its features long and melancholy, the deep-cut eyes red with dried sap and strangely watchful. They were old, those eyes; older than Winterfell itself. They had seen Brandon the Builder set the first stone, if the tales were true; they had watched the castle’s granite walls rise around them. It was said that the children of the forest had carved the faces in the trees during the dawn centuries before the coming of the First Men across the narrow sea.

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn I

The sun was sinking below the trees when they reached their destination, a small clearing in the deep of the wood where nine weirwoods grew in a rough circle. Jon drew in a breath, and he saw Sam Tarly staring. Even in the wolfswood, you never found more than two or three of the white trees growing together; a grove of nine was unheard of. The forest floor was carpeted with fallen leaves, bloodred on top, black rot beneath. The wide smooth trunks were bone pale, and nine faces stared inward. The dried sap that crusted in the eyes was red and hard as ruby. Bowen Marsh commanded them to leave their horses outside the circle. "This is a sacred place, we will not defile it."

When they entered the grove, Samwell Tarly turned slowly looking at each face in turn. No two were quite alike. "They're watching us," he whispered. "The old gods."

"Yes." Jon knelt, and Sam knelt beside him.

They said the words together, as the last light faded in the west and grey day became black night.

"Hear my words, and bear witness to my vow," they recited, their voices filling the twilit grove. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."

The woods fell silent. "You knelt as boys," Bowen Marsh intoned solemnly. "Rise now as men of the Night's Watch."

—A Game of Thrones - Jon VI

Robb bid farewell to his young queen thrice. Once in the godswood before the heart tree, in sight of gods and men. The second time beneath the portcullis, where Jeyne sent him forth with a long embrace and a longer kiss. And finally an hour beyond the Tumblestone, when the girl came galloping up on a well-lathered horse to plead with her young king to take her along.

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

In contrast to Eugénie, who fervently clung to her walnut tree that became the symbol of her vows of eternal love to Charles, since Sansa left Winterfell, she only found godswoods without a weirwood tree:

The night the bird had come from Winterfell, Eddard Stark had taken the girls to the castle godswood, an acre of elm and alder and black cottonwood overlooking the river. The heart tree there was a great oak, its ancient limbs overgrown with smokeberry vines; they knelt before it to offer their thanksgiving, as if it had been a weirwood. Sansa drifted to sleep as the moon rose, Arya several hours later, curling up in the grass under Ned’s cloak. All through the dark hours he kept his vigil alone. When dawn broke over the city, the dark red blooms of dragon’s breath surrounded the girls where they lay. “I dreamed of Bran,” Sansa had whispered to him. “I saw him smiling.”

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard V

She awoke all at once, every nerve atingle. For a moment she did not remember where she was. She had dreamt that she was little, still sharing a bedchamber with her sister Arya. But it was her maid she heard tossing in sleep, not her sister, and this was not Winterfell, but the Eyrie. And I am Alayne Stone, a bastard girl. The room was cold and black, though she was warm beneath the blankets. Dawn had not yet come. Sometimes she dreamed of Ser Ilyn Payne and woke with her heart thumping, but this dream had not been like that. Home. It was a dream of home. The Eyrie was no home. […] When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

Even the gods were silent. The Eyrie boasted a sept, but no septon; a godswood, but no heart tree. No prayers are answered here, she often thought, though some days she felt so lonely she had to try. Only the wind answered her, sighing endlessly around the seven slim white towers and rattling the Moon Door every time it gusted. It will be even worse in winter, she knew. In winter this will be a cold white prison.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

But despite the absence of a weirwood tree, those empty godswoods became a metaphor of Sansa herself, lost in the south and longing to come back home:

A godswood without gods, as empty as me.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

But Sansa Stark has started her journey back home, she is going back North to take back her heart:

But when Brienne asked about Sansa, she said, “I’ll tell you what I told Lord Tywin. That girl was always praying. She’d go to sept and light her candles like a proper lady, but near every night she went off to the godswood. She’s gone back north, she has. That’s where her gods are.”

—A Feast for Crows - Brienne II

A veil of courtesy / Courtesy is a lady's armor

She appeared in the evening at the hour when the usual company began to arrive. Never was the old hall so full as on this occasion. The news of Charles’s return and his foolish treachery had spread through the whole town. But however watchful the curiosity of the visitors might be, it was left unsatisfied. Eugenie, who expected scrutiny, allowed none of the cruel emotions that wrung her soul to appear on the calm surface of her face. She was able to show a smiling front in answer to all who tried to testify their interest by mournful looks or melancholy speeches. She hid her misery behind a veil of courtesy.

—Eugénie Grandet

What was it that Septa Mordane used to tell her? A lady's armor is courtesy, that was it. She donned her armor and said, "I'm sorry my lady mother took you captive, my lord."

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I

Courtesy is a lady's armor. You must not offend them, be careful what you say.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa I

"Courtesy is a lady's armor," Sansa said. Her septa had always told her that.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

A lady's armor is her courtesy. Alayne could feel the blood rushing to her face. No tears, she prayed. Please, please, I must not cry.

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

Agency, richness, power... And loneliness

At the end, life gives Eugénie her revenge, especially against the people that always coveted her vast wealth.

Eugénie was at last free, independent, rich and powerful, but she was very lonely. Her only comfort was the company and loyalty of la Grand Nanon:

Eugenie Grandet was now alone in the world in that gray house, with none but Nanon to whom she could turn with the certainty of being heard and understood,—Nanon the sole being who loved her for herself and with whom she could speak of her sorrows. La Grande Nanon was a providence for Eugenie. She was not a servant, but a humble friend.

—Eugénie Grandet

Illustration by René ben Sussan for Eugénie Grandet by Honoré de Balzac - Heritage Press, 1961.

La Grand Nanon was often compared to a loyal dog and she was in charge of the wolf-dog that protected the old Grandet House in Saumur.

Nanon did everything. She cooked, she made the lye, she washed the linen in the Loire and brought it home on her shoulders; she got up early, she went to bed late; she prepared the food of the vine-dressers during the harvest, kept watch upon the market-people, protected the property of her master like a faithful dog, and even, full of blind confidence, obeyed without a murmur his most absurd exactions.

(...) Like a watch-dog, she slept with one ear open, and took her rest with a mind alert.

(...) Nanon went to bolt the outer door; then she closed the hall and let loose a wolf-dog, whose bark was so strangled that he seemed to have laryngitis. This animal, noted for his ferocity, recognized no one but Nanon; the two untutored children of the fields understood each other.

—Eugénie Grandet

La Grand Nanon and the wolf-dog remind me of the Stark children's direwolves, of course. Loyal companions and protectors until the very end.

After the deaths of Monsieur et Madame Grandet, only Nanon remains to Eugénie. Then, thanks to the new financial independence of Mademoiselle Grandet, La Grand Nanon became rich as well, and she even got married to her old suitor Antoine Cornoiller.

Illustration by René ben Sussan for Eugénie Grandet by Honoré de Balzac - Heritage Press, 1961.

The day on which Maitre Cruchot handed in to his client a clear and exact schedule of the whole inheritance, Eugenie remained alone with Nanon, sitting beside the fireplace in the vacant hall, where all was now a memory, from the chair on castors which her mother had sat in, to the glass from which her cousin drank. “Nanon, we are alone—” “Yes, mademoiselle; and if I knew where he was, the darling, I’d go on foot to find him.” “The ocean is between us,” she said. While the poor heiress wept in company of an old servant, in that cold dark house, which was to her the universe, the whole province rang, from Nantes to Orleans, with the seventeen millions of Mademoiselle Grandet. Among her first acts she had settled an annuity of twelve hundred francs on Nanon, who, already possessed of six hundred more, became a rich and enviable match. In less than a month that good soul passed from single to wedded life under the protection of Antoine Cornoiller, who was appointed keeper of all Mademoiselle Grandet’s estates. Madame Cornoiller possessed one striking advantage over her contemporaries. Although she was fifty-nine years of age, she did not look more than forty. Her strong features had resisted the ravages of time. Thanks to the healthy customs of her semi-conventual life, she laughed at old age from the vantage-ground of a rosy skin and an iron constitution. Perhaps she never looked as well in her life as she did on her marriage-day. She had all the benefits of her ugliness, and was big and fat and strong, with a look of happiness on her indestructible features which made a good many people envy Cornoiller.

Eugénie became so rich that she was considered a Queen and the sovereign of her own court:

It seemed unlikely that Mademoiselle Grandet would marry during the period of her mourning. Her genuine piety was well known. Consequently the Cruchots, whose policy was sagely guided by the old abbe, contented themselves for the time being with surrounding the great heiress and paying her the most affectionate attentions. Every evening the hall was filled with a party of devoted Cruchotines, who sang the praises of its mistress in every key. She had her doctor in ordinary, her grand almoner, her chamberlain, her first lady of honor, her prime minister; above all, her chancellor, a chancellor who would fain have said much to her. If the heiress had wished for a train-bearer, one would instantly have been found. She was a queen, obsequiously flattered. Flattery never emanates from noble souls; it is the gift of little minds, who thus still further belittle themselves to worm their way into the vital being of the persons around whom they crawl. Flattery means self-interest. So the people who, night after night, assembled in Mademoiselle Grandet’s house (they called her Mademoiselle de Froidfond) outdid each other in expressions of admiration. This concert of praise, never before bestowed upon Eugenie, made her blush under its novelty; but insensibly her ear became habituated to the sound, and however coarse the compliments might be, she soon was so accustomed to hear her beauty lauded that if any new-comer had seemed to think her plain, she would have felt the reproach far more than she might have done eight years earlier. She ended at last by loving the incense, which she secretly laid at the feet of her idol. By degrees she grew accustomed to be treated as a sovereign and to see her court pressing around her every evening. Monsieur de Bonfons was the hero of the little circle, where his wit, his person, his education, his amiability, were perpetually praised. One or another would remark that in seven years he had largely increased his fortune, that Bonfons brought in at least ten thousand francs a year, and was surrounded, like the other possessions of the Cruchots, by the vast domains of the heiress.

Later, after knowing about Charles's betrayal, Eugénie chooses to marry President Cruchot de Bonfons under certain conditions. It was a sham marriage, only in name, but never consummated:

(...) “Monsieur le cure,” said Eugenie with a noble composure, inspired by the thought she was about to express, “would it be a sin to remain a virgin after marriage?” (...) “Monsieur le president,” said Eugenie in a voice of some emotion when they were left alone, “I know what pleases you in me. Swear to leave me free during my whole life, to claim none of the rights which marriage will give you over me, and my hand is yours. Oh!” she added, seeing him about to kneel at her feet, “I have more to say. I must not deceive you. In my heart I cherish one inextinguishable feeling. Friendship is the only sentiment which I can give to a husband. I wish neither to affront him nor to violate the laws of my own heart. —Eugénie Grandet

And even when President Cruchot de Bonfons was waiting to Eugénie's early death, he was the one that died and made his widow even richer by adding the Cruchot's fortune to the already vast Grandet's fortune:

Nevertheless, Monsieur de Bonfons (he had finally abolished his patronymic of Cruchot) did not realize any of his ambitious ideas. He died eight days after his election as deputy of Saumur. God, who sees all and never strikes amiss, punished him, no doubt, for his sordid calculations and the legal cleverness with which, accurante Cruchot, he had drawn up his marriage contract, in which husband and wife gave to each other, “in case they should have no children, their entire property of every kind, landed or otherwise, without exception or reservation, dispensing even with the formality of an inventory; provided that said omission of said inventory shall not injure their heirs and assigns, it being understood that this deed of gift is, etc., etc.” This clause of the contract will explain the profound respect which monsieur le president always testified for the wishes, and above all, for the solitude of Madame de Bonfons. (...) Endowed with the delicate perception which a solitary soul acquires through constant meditation, through the exquisite clear-sightedness with which a mind aloof from life fastens on all that falls within its sphere, Eugenie, taught by suffering and by her later education to divine thought, knew well that the president desired her death that he might step into possession of their immense fortune, augmented by the property of his uncle the notary and his uncle the abbe, whom it had lately pleased God to call to himself. The poor solitary pitied the president. Providence avenged her for the calculations and the indifference of a husband who respected the hopeless passion on which she spent her life because it was his surest safeguard. To give life to a child would give death to his hopes,—the hopes of selfishness, the joys of ambition, which the president cherished as he looked into the future. —Eugénie Grandet

But Eugénie's vast riches were an empty victory for her. The avarice of her father marked her life.

Due to the frugal life style imposed by Monsieur Grandet, Eugénie was never attached to money and gold like her father was:

In spite of her vast wealth, she lives as the poor Eugenie Grandet once lived. The fire is never lighted on her hearth until the day when her father allowed it to be lighted in the hall, and it is put out in conformity with the rules which governed her youthful years. She dresses as her mother dressed. The house in Saumur, without sun, without warmth, always in shadow, melancholy, is an image of her life. She carefully accumulates her income, and might seem parsimonious did she not disarm criticism by a noble employment of her wealth. Pious and charitable institutions, a hospital for old age, Christian schools for children, a public library richly endowed, bear testimony against the charge of avarice which some persons lay at her door. The churches of Saumur owe much of their embellishment to her. Madame de Bonfons (sometimes ironically spoken of as mademoiselle) inspires for the most part reverential respect: and yet that noble heart, beating only with tenderest emotions, has been, from first to last, subjected to the calculations of human selfishness; money has cast its frigid influence upon that hallowed life and taught distrust of feelings to a woman who is all feeling.

“I have none but you to love me,” she says to Nanon.

The hand of this woman stanches the secret wounds in many families. She goes on her way to heaven attended by a train of benefactions. The grandeur of her soul redeems the narrowness of her education and the petty habits of her early life.

Such is the history of Eugenie Grandet, who is in the world but not of it; who, created to be supremely a wife and mother, has neither husband nor children nor family.

—Eugénie Grandet

Eugénie was meant to be a wife and a mother, she wanted to love and be loved, but life only gave her sorrows and riches.

This sad ending reminds me a bit of Show Sansa's ending. She was a Queen of an independent Kingdom, but she didn't get any of her siblings with her at Winterfell.

But, unlike Eugénie that only knew the likes of Charles Grandet, the Cruchots and the des Grassins, and even if Sansa doesn't know it yet, there is someone who despite being offered Sansa's claim, had chosen her over Winterfell and the North and the name Stark:

“By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon I

Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon IV

Unlike Tyrion, Willas, Theon, Littlefinger or even little Robert, who pursued Sansa’s claim over her, Jon Snow chose Sansa over her claim. Among all the high lords interested in becoming the Lord of Winterfell by marrying Sansa Stark, the bastard Jon Snow refused to despoil his sister Sansa of her rights, even if her claim is the one thing he has wanted as much as he had ever wanted anything.

Jon Snow is not some fancy suitor from the South like Charles Grandet was to Eugénie, like John Willoughby was to Marianne Dashwood, like Joffrey, Loras and even Harry were/are for Sansa/Alayne. Jon Snow has Stark blood, he was raised by Ned Stark, he worships the old gods, and he knows very well that you can't make false promises in front of a weirwood tree:

Jon said, “My lord father believed no man could tell a lie in front of a heart tree. The old gods know when men are lying.”

—A Clash of Kings - Jon II

So, there is hope.

The end.

[This post is very personal and was written during somehow convulsed times. So, if you have come this far, thanks for reading.]

#sansa stark #jonsa #eugénie grandet #honoré de balzac

31 notes · View notes

blookmallow · 3 years

Note

Can you do a rating on child animatronics like you did with the clowns

i sure can

welcome to animatronic nightmare preschool

theres a trend ive discussed about spirit before where all their female animatronics tend to be either the “old hag” type, or “creepy little girl” - and now that im thinking about it i actually couldn’t think of any boy characters ive ever seen. i dont know why this is exactly. theres something to analyze there but im not really sure what it is. i found a few but almost ALL of them are little girls. i dont know what to say about this but i did notice it

there IS a boy in this group though:

ring around the rosie

enter the ritual

just some nice kids having a fun time. it may be cliché at this point but i love the “spooky nursery rhyme” trope anyway (and y’know, ring around the rosie was already creepy to begin with. im not sure if the theory that it’s really about the black plague is actually true but its still highly questionable to include the line “ashes, ashes, we all fall down” in a childrens rhyme with no explanation either way)

for some reason the fact that none of them have hands and its just their sleeves tied together is really funny to me and i dont know why. they also dont have feet and im not sure if its a technical limitation for convenience purposes or if they’re supposed to be little ghost children but it definitely comes across like they’re little ghost children who tied their sleeves together to try to feel like they’re holding hands which is very cute. 10/10 big fan of this one

i already mentioned harriet hustle in this post, shes fantastic

angeline

i LOVE this one shes SO cute

i dont really understand how she's supposed to be scary, the description is like "she'll scare the lights out of your guests" or w/e but like, she's just. a kid who can see ghosts. she herself isn't even a ghost. i like her id adopt her i think she'd be a fun addition to a graveyard scene 10/10

abandoned annie

ok technically this one is a doll but im counting her anyway, shes one of my FAVORITE spirit animatronics bc A) i love creepy dolls B) shes cute and most importantly C) her entire fucking face unhinges i need y’all to watch the video on this one its so good 12/10 ive said this before but animatronics that do something completely fucking unexpected are my absolute favorite

broken girl

completely batshit. horrifying. shes actually initially standing upright and then snaps backward and screams and the image does not do it justice i highly recommend the video for this one. not much there as a Character but as “really effective way to scare the shit out of someone” its, i would imagine, incredibly effective. 9/10

there’s also menacing molly who looks similar and has the same kind of “facing away from you but then snaps backward” scare but is on a swing and sings “I see dead people, I see ghosts 💖i see the things that hate you the most” before she does her jumpscare which is incredibly funny to me

double trouble

creepy little girl trope meets creepy twins trope, at first glance i thought this was just like, discount grady twins (which it looks like they also have, in blatant knockoff form. they’re uh, not good) but it looks like their description backstory is that they killed their mother and disappeared with their rumored-insane father so its slightly different. one of their phrases is “daddy says we have to play outside :( he doesnt want any more blood on the floor” and i love it

they have a pretty good sense of personality and character to them even if its not necessarily groundbreaking. 7/10

ellie hatchet

i love this one bc so many of the creepy little girl animatronics are just pretty much standing there being creepy but not ellie. she’s fucking DONE with all of you. you come near her she will swing an axe at your face. 6/10 not really a big stand out but i appreciate her undying rage

lunging lily

shes spooky. she jumps out at you. thats about it. i dont really have anything to say about this one. that sure is a creepy little girl that jumpscares you. i like that she goes “help me... help me...” before she jumps out but i feel like it would be hard to get the timing right for that to actually work as a lure to make guests curious where the sound’s coming from since most of these are motion activated. anyway 6/10 shes just not very interesting

johnny punk

one of the rare boy characters, i have actually seen him in store and just completely forgot about him because he was that uninteresting. he doesn’t really do much and his backstory on site is just like, “He's got a nice house, loving parents and a severe attitude problem.”

like this isn’t an undead child back for revenge against those who wronged him or a crazed circus runaway or anything. he’s just a bratty kid. hes like a 13 year old who just saw Joker and has decided to make it his entire personality. this comes across less as a threatening figure and more just like some shitty kid who thinks he’s cool. i glanced at the comments on the wiki page and it turns out absolutely everyone hates him which is completely hilarious to me

2/10 nobody likes you johnny go do your homework and apologize to your mother

i also found limb eating zombie boy, who is considerably better

gross. bloody. would probably be pretty effective if you had him like, placed among some boxes or something so people dont see him at first and aren’t expecting him there. pretty standard zombie. i dont have much to say. He’s Fine. 6/10

mommy’s favorite

ive seen this one in the stores several times, I think we have her there now, and i just don’t. get it? she just moves back and forth with the “shhh” gesture and it’s like, ok, she’s vaguely creepy, but what’s going on here. she just says “don’t wake my mommy! she’s been sleeping for a long time!” so i guess the implication is that her mother is dead and she doesn’t understand, which is just sad rather than scary. the description says she makes mommy’s tea just how she likes it with five drops from the special skull bottle, which could imply she killed her mom, which would make more sense as a horror character, but if that’s How Mommy Likes It that implies the mother instructed her daughter to unknowingly poison her, which is horrifying but in a way darker sense than a spooky halloween prop lmfao

anyway if i have to go digging into descriptions to try to figure out what this character is or what shes supposed to be or anything i just dont feel like its a very effective character design. and i did read it and i still dont really get it. 2/10 i just feel like im missing something here

anyway there’s a bunch more variations of “scary possessed child” that are all basically the same, so im just gonna close this out with:

swinging skeletal boy

allo there, guvna

look at this dapper little victorian child im gonna cry he’s so cute

he just swings but has this surprisingly endearing soft little voice which COMPLETELY contrasts the weird shit he actually says. hes this precious little skeleton kid with a sweet little voice who goes “your skin is so nice :) can i have it? haha. that’s okay. I’ll take it when you’re sleeping”

absolutely love animatronics with that “wait WHAT did that thing just say” factor to them i love this guy 11/10 good boy my new son

i would also like to mention that people are also continuing to dunk on johnny punk in this guy’s comment section too fsadkflj people hate that shitty joker kid so much their hatred has bled into other completely unrelated swinging children

#spirit halloween #spirit animatronics #halloween #halloween animatronics #pinned

20 notes · View notes

the-romantic-lady · 3 years

Note

Surprised to hear you like Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou, given that you're a fan of Richard, Duke of York. Isn't that a conflict of interest or something? Lol. What's your opinion on Elizabeth Woodville and the Woodville clan, Margaret Beaufort, Warwick and the Neville clan, and George, Duke of Clarence? (Basically what's your opinion on the rest of the players of the Wars of the Roses lol.)

Gosh, anon you are encouraging me!! I love that you care about my thoughts <3. Alright then, let's start.

I used to be very anti-Margaret of Anjou. Until I started to look at things from her perspective. York was dangerously popular with a lot of children and a formidable wife. Margaret must have felt insecure. Also, there is this theory that Margaret's mentor and confidant William de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk was murdered under the order of the Duke of York. That must have been a tipping point. But I still think that York was the better ruler and person. I will get a lot of hate for this, but women in general were not suitable rulers for the Middle Ages. They were often driven by more personal ideals (Empress Matilda vs. Stephen is a great example and Margaret was no different). Ofc there were men like that too but women seemed to always be like that. As a woman, I understand and the later periods were more suitable for female leadership. York was a much better ruler. He was driven by the stability of the realm rather than his personal issues (he put his own son-in-law in prison and Margaret wouldn't even budge on her failure advisors). And her entitlement was mind-boggling. I love how messed up she was. And Henry...I just feel sorry for him. The Middle Ages also were not a time for artistic and kind kings lol.

Elizabeth Woodville and the Woodville Clan:

As I have said, I pretty much like everyone before 1485 lol. But Elizabeth Woodville was annoying af. That made her interesting but I can't get over how incredibly greedy she was. She was the daughter of a minor gentry and widow of a Lancastrian knight. Edward makes her queen and she abuses that power so much. She has problems with everyone. Warwick, George, Richard, any noble who didn't kiss her arse and even Edward. Queens were meant to level the mind of King. Edward III's queen famously saved French clergy by going on her knees to beg the King for mercy. Ofc that was a bit dramatic but many Queens did this. It was called the Queen's mercy or something like that. But boy was she a hell of a woman. Despite being raised in a pretty privileged household, she was shrewd and survived to the end. She could have learned a thing or two from Cecily Neville about how to put that strong personality to better use but regardless. Also, I love how she was shunned fron Henry Tudor's court when Richard welcomed her to his with open arms. I mean...karma. But all in all, I like her. Its as they say "well behaved women seldom make history". She had flaws (so did the everyone else!) but her character is interesting and admirable. And despite that shaved forehead, she is a gorgeous woman. So I get where Edward was coming from XD The other social climbing members Woodville..not so much. The shameless way that they tried to push themselves in and take hold of power when they had literally fought on the losing Lancastrian side is embarrassing and oh so disgusting. Like Warwick secured the throne for Edward and they were given precedence over him. I just...yeah. John Woodville legit married a 65 year old duchess (he was 19) for money and power. They were a hungry bunch and courting them was Edward IV's biggest mistake and towards the end of his life, I think he saw that.

Margaret Beaufort

I will keep this short since I don't know much about her but I dislike her. I understand that she went through a lot. Her father apparently suicided when she was 1 and that is traumatic. And back then suicide was mocked and disgraced. She ofc blamed the Duke of York....cause at this point why not? She ofc went through a really young and traumatic birth at 13. Her husband was gross and that's that. And we know that Edward kept her son exiled so she couldn't see him. But despite all this, I just don't like her? I suppose its the super impressive Plantagenet women who just make me look at the sleezy and dull Margaret with disdain. And she gives me real phony vibes. Like at times, she just seemed to cosplay Cecily Neville lol. When you see women like Cecily Neville and Margaret of Anjou taking charge in the way they did, Margaret and her deceptive ways are just cringe worthy.

The Earl of Warwick

This man. Just this man. The way that England seemed to revolve around his whims is amazing. He was a real Duke of York stan and so I have to appreciate him. But he was so fearless. Henry VI, Edward IV, Margaret of Anjou, you name it. He stood against them. The Duke of York seemed to be someone he admired but other than that, he fought for himself. He helped Edward take the crown and worked hard to keep Edward's throne. He was embarrassed with the whole secret marriage saga but still stuck by. But Edward clearly forgot who he owed his success too. The man escaped an assassination by Henry VI's men and saved his father and uncle from it. He actually took charge in the first Battle of St. Albans in 1455 because his rivals the Percys were mocking him. I just love him. Ngl, sometimes when I read about him, I just blush. A man if there ever was one. There were so many attempts at disgracing him. He was the Captain of Calais and in that role fought Medieval pirates! And he was ruthless at it. People loved him and he carried that popularity well. I should stop fangirling over a dead guy. I think I made it pretty clear that I love him XD.

Neville clan

I like them too. Warwick's father was pretty much York's best friend and I love him for it. They were also social climbers like the Woodvilles but so much better at it. They didn't have the entitlement that the Woodvilles did and managed their powers well. Cecily Neville was ofc a Neville and she is one of my favorites. One of my favorite thing about them is how courageous they were. Like all of them. Unfortunately, Anne and Isabel are both obscure figures. I wish we knew more about them. They were pushed around like prizes. Good on Richard for giving Anne a position to make her own decision. I feel bad for those girls. Although the York brothers were known to be good looking so lucky them?

George, Duke of Clarence

Ah, George. I love this man. If there was one son of York who inherited his father's glamour and charm, it was George. And I love that he stood up to his brother and sister-in-law. He was sometimes too problematic but I still love that! Glamourous and problematic. How can one not love the man? Although his betrayal of Edward is kind of sad considering that Edward really tried to be like a dad to his brothers. George took Edward's love for granted for too long. His breakdown after his wife's death is really sad too. Interestingly, this seems to be a pattern with the Plantagenet men. They all have breakdowns and downfalls after the death of their wives. Their women are so much stronger emotionally.

I know this was long! I hope you enjoyed the post :D. I would love to know your thoughts too and if you agree or disagree. Seriously, thank you for letting me talk about this. Nothing makes me happier than to discuss these people!

#elizabeth woodville #edward iv #george duke of clarence #richard neville #earl of warwick

38 notes · View notes

bevioletskies · 3 years

Text

(and i’m lost) in a daydream

summary: Napping together, in Klavier’s opinion, is one of the most romantic things a couple can do. But, he has to admit, staying up all night with Apollo to talk about nothing in particular is pretty good, too.

word count: 5.4k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day six of seven (prompt: "sleep"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

This fic takes place at some distant point in time after Spirit of Justice where Apollo and Trucy have learned that they’re siblings, but doesn’t reference any specific plotlines otherwise. Fic title is from the song Daydream by The Lovin' Spoonful.

“Why are your feet still so cold? You’ve been lying here for like, ten minutes already!”

“Don’t question my blood circulation, baby, it’s rude.”

“I - what?” Apollo shook his head incredulously as he snuggled deeper into the mattress, pointedly moving his feet away from Klavier’s. “You know what? Never mind, I’m not even gonna ask. Just when I think I finally get you…”

“I’m an enigma, liebling. Hard to understand,” Klavier deadpanned, adjusting the covers so Apollo was snug underneath his duvet, weighted blanket, and faux-fur throw. Apollo seriously questioned how his boyfriend’s skin could be anything but blazingly hot with enough sheets on top of him to legitimately smother someone.

“You? You’re about as deep as a puddle on a freshly-paved road.” Klavier pouted exaggeratedly; Apollo leaned over to kiss his trembling bottom lip with a teasing grin. “Kidding, kidding. How could I possibly question the depth and breadth of someone who writes songs like 13 Years Hard Time For Love and Gonna Lock U Up? Clearly, Guilty Love is your magnum opus - ”

“You are so mean to me,” Klavier whined, wrapping his arms around Apollo’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “How are you still one of my favorite people in the world, achtung.” Laughing, Apollo buried his face against Klavier’s neck. “But...you’re not wrong about Guilty Love. It’s obviously my best work.”

“I prefer The Guitar’s Serenade myself,” Apollo mumbled into his hair, slowly detangling himself from Klavier so he could get a good look at him. He felt deliriously tired for some reason, like he’d been worn out to the point of restlessness. Strange, considering it was just like any other day; there was nothing that would’ve made him more exhausted than normal. Klavier seemed to be that way, too, blinking sleepily at Apollo with a wide grin, more lazy than flirtatious. “...hi?”

“Hallo.” Klavier kissed him again. “We should sleep, it’s late.”

“It’s barely ten,” Apollo pointed out.

“It’s late,” Klavier repeated, throwing an arm out across the pillows. Apollo took that as his cue to move in closer once more. “Some people need their beauty sleep, Apollo. We can’t all be fresh-faced, rosy-cheeked engels like you.”

“Now I know you’re tired, ‘cos that was complete crap,” Apollo said, poking Klavier in the cheek. “Have you seen this pimple on my chin? Look, Klav. It’s big enough to have its own legal system.” Klavier half-snorted, half-yawned. “Why’re you so tired, anyway? I thought you said you had a power nap at work, which is definitely not something you should be doing.”

“Herr Edgeworth can manage without me for twenty minutes, ach,” Klavier said derisively. “And I like a good nap, but it’s no substitute for sleep. And besides, it’s...it feels nicer, going to bed, when I have someone to share it with.”

“You are nauseating,” Apollo informed him, kissing him more intently this time. “...but I get what you mean.” He pulled back, swallowing. “Trucy and I were talking the other day about, like...stuff we missed out on by not growing up together. Y’know, family trips, home movies, falling asleep in the same bed...or, at least, that’s what I think it’s like. I wouldn’t know.”

Klavier went silent for an unsettlingly long time. “...it’s not all bad. Having a sibling. Until you look back on it and start to question all the...you know what, never mind.” He shook himself before he could finish his sentence. “You make a pefekt older brother, baby. Though you’re more like a little big brother, now that she’s taller than you.”

“By half an inch!” Apollo protested loudly, prodding Klavier more insistently now. “Look, her dad has the height gene - ”

“And your dad had the ‘loud voice’ gene, I hear.” Klavier took Apollo’s hand in both of his and brushed a kiss across his knuckles. “Well, thanks to you, mein kleiner sirene, I’m definitely awake now.”

“Asshole,” Apollo said affectionately. “So, what, you wanna get up or something?”

“Nein, not at all.” Klavier rolled onto his side, bringing Apollo’s hand to his chest. Apollo could feel Klavier’s steady heartbeat beneath his fingers. “Let’s just...hang out, ja? We can talk until we fall asleep, just like we used to when you were working in Khura’in. Or, more recently, just the other day.”

“Emphasis on ‘day’ - we were s’posed to be helping Ema finish the decorations for Kay’s surprise party!” Apollo spluttered. “That was not a good time to take an accidental nap.”

“Well, entschuldigung for wanting to reflect fondly on a nice memory we shared,” Klavier griped, poking Apollo in the stomach. “For a moment there, I forgot I was dating the most pedantic man on the planet.”

“We’re lawyers, we’re pedantic for a living.” Apollo poked him back. “Hell, you got mad at me just the other day ‘cos I accidentally swapped two of your face serums or whatever - ”

“My skincare routine is a delicate ecosystem, baby, you can’t just move things - ” Klavier then cut himself off with a long exhale. “Nein, nein, we’re not getting into this again. I don’t like being mad at you. It’s unfathomable, really.”

Humming, Apollo used his free hand - the other was still being held against Klavier’s chest - to gently run his fingers through Klavier’s hair, brushing it out of his face. It was silky smooth and tangle-free, naturally; Klavier had a whole wealth of products he used on his skin and in his hair to maintain their quality. He still hadn’t forgiven Apollo for telling him that his own skincare routine consisted of nothing but St. Ives’ apricot scrub and Ponds cold cream (“At least let me buy you an actual cleanser, ach. And don’t tell me you don’t wear sunscreen!”).

“What’re you thinking about?” Klavier said quietly, finally releasing Apollo’s hand so he could cup his jaw, his thumb brushing across Apollo’s bottom lip. “I can practically see the little hamster wheel turning in your head right now.”

“Shut up,” Apollo murmured, playfully nipping the tip of Klavier’s thumb with his teeth. “I’m not thinking about anything, actually. Which is kinda nice, not gonna lie. I don’t have, like, a million pieces of evidence flying around in my brain for once.”

“The benefits of date night after a trial is over, ja?” Klavier said. “We can enjoy each other’s company without...conditions. Though to be fair, you were right when you said we shouldn’t spend nights together while we’re working the same case. Separate the lover from the lawyer and all that.”

Apollo groaned. “I hated that saying when you came up with it, and I still hate it now.” Laughing, Klavier moved closer, neatly tucking his head underneath Apollo’s chin. He pressed a kiss to Apollo’s collarbone, winding his arms around Apollo’s waist. “One of the many things I gotta put up with, I guess.”

“You love it,” Klavier mumbled against Apollo’s chest. “You think I’m so clever - ”

“Rewind to about five minutes ago when I said you’re about as deep as a footprint on a hardwood floor,” Apollo said wryly, pinching Klavier’s waist so he would look up; Apollo ducked down to kiss him. Grinning, Klavier deepened the kiss, letting out a pleased hum as he did so. “...I don’t totally mind putting up with you, though. Wouldn’t be here if I did.”

“I’m still not completely convinced you aren’t here for my mattress and heated floors.” Klavier began pressing open-mouthed kisses along the crook of Apollo’s jaw, savoring the smell of Apollo’s shampoo as he went. “From what you’ve told me of your apartment, it sounds like an absolute nightmare. A complete schreckgespenst.”

“Gesundheit,” Apollo murmured, tilting his chin upwards to give Klavier better access to his neck. “Yeah, my apartment sucks. The only reason I’d want you to come over is so you can finally meet my cat. Hell, he’s a nightmare and a half on his own.”

“Is this the same cat I’ve heard you refer to as your son?” Klavier asked, sitting up slightly. “The one who you said eats more expensive food than you do - ”

“One and the same,” Apollo replied with a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, fine, you caught me. I’m only dating you ‘cos you have air conditioning, a flatscreen TV, and food that isn’t frozen.”

The laughter that escaped Klavier’s mouth was near-hysterical; his exhaustion was getting more and more obvious by the minute. “And here, I thought you actually loved me. My mistake.” His laughter was swiftly cut off by Apollo’s lips on his, his breath hitching when Apollo quickly turned them around so he was now straddling Klavier’s hips. “So was I right after all - ”

“I can’t believe we have the exact same stupid sense of humor, you make me so angry,” Apollo said breathlessly between kisses. “God, I love you. You’re the worst. The absolute worst - ”

“You and your mixed messages.” Klavier moved his hands from Apollo’s waist to his backside, gripping him possessively; Apollo’s back arched at his touch, anticipatory. “Your thoughts are as confusing as your logic, you know that?”

“This is the part where you say ‘I love you, too’, not ‘I think you can be stupid sometimes’, you asshole,” Apollo retorted, grinning.

Klavier leaned in close, his lips brushing against Apollo’s ear, his voice low and warm and more than a little bit sensual. “Ich liebe dich mehr jeden Tag.” Apollo shivered with pleasure. “Ich kann nicht ohne dich leben. Liebst du mich?”

“Ja,” Apollo whispered, kissing Klavier yet again. “You know that I do.”

_____

Fifteen minutes later, Klavier reluctantly detached himself from Apollo long enough so he could get up and crack open a window; his bedroom had gotten noticeably warmer, and it wasn’t just because they’d spent the last ten minutes making out like teenagers with a limited window of opportunity.

“Warm,” Apollo grunted, rolling up the sleeves of his t-shirt. “It’s so warm - Klav, can we please get rid of at least one layer of bed covers already? I have no interest in getting roasted anymore than I already do.”

“Fine, fine.” Klavier rolled up his faux-fur throw, then disappeared briefly into his walk-in closet so he could set it aside. When he returned, Apollo was sprawled out like a starfish on top of the duvet, his fingers and toes brushing the edges of Klavier’s California king bed, staring up at the ceiling with an exhausted, yet blissful smile. “Er...you okay, baby?”

“Excuse me for enjoying the cool air,” Apollo huffed, smirking when Klavier crawled on top of him once more, knees braced on either side of Apollo’s hips. He automatically reached up to run his hands along the sides of Klavier’s waist, his touch warm through the thin fabric of Klavier’s t-shirt. “...hi. Can I help you?”

“Nein, you’re just fine where you are.” Klavier leaned down to kiss him, then rolled onto his side, letting out a contented sigh. “What do you think, are you good to sleep now?”

Apollo snorted, nudging Klavier’s thigh with his foot. “You’re the one who has a self-imposed bedtime, you tell me.”

Klavier propped himself up on his elbow, then ruffled Apollo’s unstyled hair, sweeping it out of his face. “I was thinking about what you said earlier, actually. About the things that you and Trucy missed out on sharing together.”

“...ah.” Apollo’s expression grew serious. “What about it?”

“Do you think…” Klavier hesitated. “It’s just, you grew up as the younger sibling. Not by much, natürlich, but you were still the younger one. Do you think you would've preferred being the older sibling instead?” He let out a bitter laugh that made Apollo’s heart ache. “Not that I’m projecting, of course. Nein, not me.”

“Oh, Klav,” Apollo sighed, wrapping his arms protectively around Klavier’s shoulders and pulling him into his chest. “And...I dunno, I don’t think it’s really comparable, you know? Nahyuta’s barely a year older, while Trucy’s a whole seven years younger...besides, it really comes down to personality and, like, compatibility. Would I be the same person if I grew up with Trucy instead of Nahyuta? Probably not. Hell, definitely not.” He then snorted. “I mean, for one thing, I wouldn’t be living in the mountains.”

“I’m still not convinced when Herr Sahdmadhi tells me he doesn’t have any other pictures of you two lying around,” Klavier chuckled, his laughter causing the mattress to tremble. “Papa wants to take up scrapbooking, by the way, and he’s been asking me if I have any gut photos of you. Ach, it’s like my parents already decided you were their son-in-law the moment we started dating.”

“I think it’s sweet...a-and a little intimidating,” Apollo admitted. “No pressure, right?” Still, he snuggled in even closer, legs loosely wrapped around Klavier’s hips. “But your parents are great, I’ll see if I can find some photos for your dad. I'm sure I’ve got something in those boxes I brought back from Khura’in that I never bothered opening.”

“Sounds like someone needs to do a little spring cleaning,” Klavier teased. “But danke, baby. It’ll certainly be interesting, seeing our childhood photos side-by-side. Me with my hot pink braces, you with your...what was it, pet rabbits?”

“So many rabbits,” Apollo said forlornly. “We didn’t have the means to stop them from, y’know. Procreating. So, uh, think I’ll stick with my neutered cat any day.”

“Did you have a favorite?” Klavier asked; he seemed much more relaxed now, though Apollo couldn’t help but wonder about his earlier comment, if it was worth mentioning at all. “I had a favorite hündchen. She was very stupid.”

“Nice way to talk about your favorite childhood pet,” Apollo snorted. “Though I frequently brag about how much of an asshole my cat is, so I guess I’m one to talk.”

“Nein, like - she was the kind of dog who ran into glass doors and barked at her own reflection,” Klavier explained, biting back another laugh. “Her name was Sascha, and she was this darling cream-colored retriever who loved to sleep on my legs every night. I would always wake up with numb toes.” His smile then turned sad, melancholy. “The first time I tried a weighted blanket after she passed, I...I almost cried. It had been so long since I had that feeling, you know? Like someone was hugging me while I slept...keeping me safe.”

“Babe,” Apollo said softly, gently cupping Klavier’s face.

“Mir geht's gut,” Klavier reassured him, placing his hands over Apollo’s. “It’s a nice memory, that’s all.” He cleared his throat, making small, soothing circles on the backs of Apollo's hands with his thumbs. “So, your favorite häschen?”

“Well, they were wild rabbits, so it’s not like they were ‘ours’, exactly,” Apollo said thoughtfully, leaning into Klavier’s touch. “We didn't give ‘em names or identifying marks, so we got them mixed up all the time. But there was one little guy who was a real piece of work. If I didn’t feed him fast enough, he’d bite my fingers. I had a weird soft spot for him.”

Klavier raised an eyebrow. “...you have a strange relationship with your pets, liebe.”

“Hey, maybe he was my favorite ‘cos he reminded me of me,” Apollo said defensively. “Just like how your favorite dog liked sleeping on your legs. You sure like hogging the bed, after all - which is an incredible feat, considering this is a California king.”

“True,” Klavier agreed. “You do remind me of kätzchen, sharp nails and all.”

“I accidentally cut you with a broken fingernail while holding your hand just one time,” Apollo sighed. “So, do you have pictures of Sascha? I’d love to see her.”

“At my parents’ house,” Klavier said, smiling softly. “I’ll have to break out the photo albums the next time we drop by.”

Humming, Apollo lowered his head to Klavier’s shoulder, half-burying his face against Klavier’s neck. Klavier’s hands moved to Apollo’s back, tapping out rhythmic patterns along his spine. They stayed like that for a while, quiet, almost zen-like, with the occasional breeze whistling in through the open window. Finally, after a few peaceful minutes, Apollo began to shiver, the hairs on his arms and legs prickling from the cold. “...it’s getting pretty windy now. Maybe it’s time for us to actually try to sleep?”

After closing the window, the two of them got back under the duvet, Klavier playfully prodding Apollo’s bare legs with his literal cold feet. Apollo countered him by aggressively poking Klavier’s cheeks with his frozen fingers, only stopping when Klavier begged for mercy. “You’re a cruel one,” Klavier sniffed despite the fact Apollo was now rubbing his face to warm him back up.

“And you’re such a diva,” Apollo said affectionately, pecking him on the nose. “Remember that one time we went to get poké and they didn’t have furikake? You honest-to-god pouted like a kid who didn’t get their favorite ice cream flavor.”

“I know what I like,” Klavier huffed. “And speaking of which, between the way you talk about Mikeko and the way you talk about me - are you sure you actually like us, schatz?”

Apollo softened somewhat. “To borrow a phrase from you - you know you’re, like, one of my favorite people ever.”

“I would hope so,” Klavier murmured, nudging his face against Apollo’s neck. His fingers then slipped underneath Apollo’s t-shirt so he could feel his warmth, feel the softness of his skin. “That’s something my parents used to say, actually. Back when they were in school, when they wrote each other love letters. ‘You are my favorite star in the sky’, Mama would write.”

“Did they end up keeping those letters?” Apollo asked. “It almost sounds like you’ve read them.”

“Nein, I could never,” Klavier protested. “It’s their private correspondence, after all. They just read me some of the nice bits, the poetic parts. I’d write you a poem myself, if I didn’t think you would absolutely hate it.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t hate it.” Apollo kissed the side of Klavier’s head. “I’m just not big on performative romance, y’know, big displays of love that seem to be for people that aren’t part of the relationship. But this right here...it’s more my speed.”

“I can tell,” Klavier hummed, kissing him. It wasn’t long before the two of them found themselves distracted again, caught up in each other’s embrace. Despite seeing plenty of each other over the past few days, Apollo couldn’t help but - privately - admit that he’d missed being able to see Klavier as his boyfriend, not his rival. Every time Klavier smirked at him from behind the prosecutor’s bench, he had to remind himself that he usually preferred to kiss him, not slap him. “...we’re never getting to sleep, are we?”

“Keep your shirt on, Gavin,” Apollo mumbled against Klavier’s lips.

“Not what I meant, but I like where your mind is at,” Klavier teased. “Besides, a bit hypocritical of you when you have your hands on my ass, ja?”

Apollo quickly withdrew his hands as if he’d been burned, ducking down underneath the sheets so Klavier couldn’t see how red his face had become. “Sh-shut up. It was just more convenient to hold onto than your waist, that’s all!”

“My ass is more convenient than my waist, you say? That’s a new one.” Klavier pulled back the duvet with a mocking grin. “Ah, there’s my favorite forehead. Where’s the rest of you, hm?”

“I hate you so much,” Apollo groaned, reluctantly crawling back out. “Why do you even start calling me that, anyway? It’s not like we were talking about my forehead, it was the location of Dr. Meraktis’s bullet wound!”

Klavier looked at him thoughtfully, his head cocked. The dog-like resemblance was becoming more and more apparent by the second. “Honestly? I don’t actually know. All I know is, I wanted to give you a cute nickname, and it just...stuck for one reason or another. And you have to admit, your hair makes your forehead quite...prominent.”

“Cute nickname?” Apollo repeated.

Now Klavier was staring at him more incredulously than anything else. “...I know we’ve talked about this before, but could you really not tell I was flirting with you from the start? Granted, it wasn’t meant to be anything serious until after our first case together, but still.”

“Oh,” Apollo said faintly, slumping back against the headboard. “I, uh...I honestly thought you were just making fun of me.”

“Achtung,” Klavier remarked, trying his hardest not to laugh. “Maybe it’s time we take a trip down memory lane and see what you thought I was doing. For my curiosity’s sake, if you don’t mind.”

Apollo yawned and stretched. “Hell, why not? It’s not like we’re sleeping anytime soon...apparently.”

_____

Thirty minutes later, the two of them were sitting cross-legged on top of Klavier’s duvet, trying their best not to touch anything with their still-wet nails. Apollo wasn’t a fan of having painted nails - not that he didn’t like nail polish itself, it was more the fact that chipped polish bothered him - but he liked letting Klavier do them, liked the feel of his boyfriend’s soft, gentle fingers as they tenderly held his own.

“Wait, wait, wait - you only said that you didn’t think Athena was my type ‘cos you wanted to know if I was single?!”

“I thought that was obvious,” Klavier said, sighing. “How are you so clever and so unobservant at the same time, ach. My boyfriend, the walking contradiction. The man who helped rebuild an entire legal system, the man who can’t tell when someone is asking him to dinner. You truly are a wonder, liebe.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me - ”

“My mistake, clearly. I should have just walked right into Themis, wearing a neon sign that says ‘Ask Me About My Romantic Feelings for Apollo Justice’.” Klavier snorted at the incredulous look on Apollo’s face. “What, too subtle?”

“I just can’t believe you were into me for that long,” Apollo admitted, his voice small. “Like, if you really thought I wasn’t interested...why didn’t you just...stop?”

“You say that like it’s easy.” Klavier turned away for a moment to delicately blow on his nails, pointedly avoiding Apollo’s eyes, then reached for his bottle of Seche Vite. “Remember what you said to me once? About...feeling your feelings before realizing you even have them. After all, it’s not like feelings are just something you can turn on and off, like a switch.”

“I got pretty good at doing that, actually,” Apollo muttered. “Compartmentalizing, I mean.”

“That’s not the same, though, is it?” Klavier said gently. “Pretending not to love you and not loving you are completely different things. I could act like a carefree flirt all I wanted, but...at the end of the day, my heart was always set on you.”

Apollo bit back a grin. “You are such a sap, sheesh. But I hear you. Sorry I made you wait around, I guess.”

“Don’t be,” Klavier murmured. “I’m just glad we got here in the end, you know?”

“Same.” Apollo leaned in to kiss Klavier chastely on the lips, both of them still taking care not to touch each other or the bed. “So, now that we - ” But before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a short, but loud grrrrr. “...Klav?”

“Achtung,” Klavier said, staring down at his stomach in surprise. “I guess we should’ve ordered more dumplings, after all.”

“Or you shouldn’t have let me take the last one,” Apollo pointed out, laughing. “Okay, okay, after we’re done here, we’re raiding your fridge.”

Another fifteen minutes later, they found themselves sprawled on top of Klavier’s duvet once more, this time with two empty bowls that once held ice cream sitting on his bedside table. Apollo’s eyes were closed in contentment as he hummed a little something - some strange combination of The Guitar’s Serenade and something else he couldn’t identify - only for him to jolt slightly at the feeling of Klavier’s cold fingers on his skin.

“Ah - babe, your hands are freezing - ”

“Sorry.” Klavier didn’t look all that sorry as he pressed a sticky-sweet kiss to Apollo’s stomach. “What’s that you’re humming, liebe?”

“I...I don’t actually know.” Apollo furrowed his brows in confusion. “It feels like something I’ve heard over and over again, but I couldn’t begin to tell you what it is. Weird, huh?”

“It almost sounds like…” Klavier then began to hum it himself, tapping out the rhythm on Apollo’s thigh. “...like a lullaby of sorts. Maybe that’s why you’re mixing it with The Guitar’s Serenade.”

“A lullaby?” Apollo repeated. “Wait, you don’t think it’s something that...I mean, Mom told me this story the other day that…” He swallowed thickly. “...she said my dad used to sing to me, like. All the time. Apparently, Mom would come home from work and find him making dinner, and he’d have me on his back in one of those baby wrap things, and he’d just be...singing. Bouncing up and down to the beat to make me giggle.”

Klavier placed his hands over Apollo’s heart, lightly resting his chin on top of them. “That sounds like a wunderschön sight to come home to. Your papa must have been an amazing man.” Apollo shot him a rueful smile, running his fingers through Klavier’s hair. Then, after a moment’s consideration, he separated a portion of it from the rest and began to braid it almost mindlessly, instinctively, resuming his quiet humming. “Ah - you know how to braid hair?”

“Muscle memory,” Apollo explained, continuing to braid. “I liked keeping my hair short, but Nahyuta experimented with growing it out all the time. Aesthetics and beauty are a big part of Khura’inese culture, so he liked switching things up, even though we were never around anyone but...but Dhurke. I learned how to do braids and buns and stuff so he could have a different hairstyle every day.”

“Maybe I should seriously get you to do my hair sometime,” Klavier mused, right as Apollo tied the ends off. “We’ve got that work event next month, maybe then.”

“Hey, I’m no expert,” Apollo chuckled, leaning back to rest on his elbows and admire his handiwork. It wasn’t quite as neat as it used to be, but even in the middle of the night, even with his sloppy attempt at a simple braid, Klavier was still one of the most beautiful people Apollo had ever seen. “But if you let me practice on you, maybe I will be.”

“As long as you don’t pull all my hair out while you’re at it,” Klavier said, preening.

Apollo continued to laugh; then, his expression grew sober. “...is it weird that I think about, like...if I should miss my dad or not?”

Klavier frowned. “Why is it weird?”

“Because I shouldn’t have to think about it, right?” Apollo said, shrugging. “Like, either I miss him...or I don’t. And it’s not like I can tell Mom, ‘cos she loved him, and she misses him all the time, but I...I…” He inhaled sharply. “...I didn’t know him. Not really. So, uh...how do I miss someone I never knew?”

“Well...maybe it’s not about missing him, per se,” Klavier offered. “Maybe you just...miss that you never got to know him. That all your mama’s stories are just that - stories, not memories. And you wish you had the chance to make your own.”

Apollo shot him a soft smile. “You got all of that out of one train of thought, huh? Though...you might not be wrong. It’s kinda like the whole ‘what if’ with growing up with Trucy versus growing up with Nahyuta, y’know, only with...with my dad. What if things had gone completely differently? Would it be better, worse?”

“You seem to be thinking about family quite a lot these days,” Klavier commented. “What’s on that beautiful mind of yours, hm?”

Apollo shook his head. “I meant what I said earlier - nothing, really. It’s just the kind of thing my mind comes up with at - well, it’s not that late, but still.” He then bit back a smile. “Would be, uh. Would be kinda nice, though, wouldn’t it? If that really was dad’s lullaby I was remembering, that I still - that I have a piece of him still with me?”

“Natürlich,” Klavier agreed. “You should sing it to your mama next time you see her, see if she recognizes it. Even if she doesn’t, it can become your version of The Guitar’s Serenade, for just the two of you.”

“I’d like that,” Apollo said quietly. Klavier squeezed Apollo’s thigh, then shuffled back up the bed so they were face-to-face, kissing Apollo chastely. “Hm...your lips are cold, too.”

“You could warm them up for me,” Klavier murmured suggestively; once again, it was his turn to grab Apollo’s backside, pulling him closer and closer until their chests were pressed against one another, his knee sliding neatly between Apollo’s legs. Apollo groaned at the cheesy line but continued kissing him regardless, his lips parting slightly so he could deepen the kiss. “What happened to us having the same stupid sense of humor, baby?”

“You still make me so mad.” Apollo captured Klavier’s bottom lip between his teeth, tugging slightly with a wicked grin that made Klavier shiver. “It’s funny, whenever I complain about you to someone else - ”

“Which I suspect happens often,” Klavier commented.

“ - they always ask, ‘so why are you with him, then?’.” Apollo released him, nudging his nose affectionately against the underside of Klavier’s jaw. “And usually, I give ‘em some bullshit excuse. No need to tell them more than they have to know, y’know? But the actual answer’s pretty simple.”

Klavier smoothed Apollo’s hair away from his forehead, his thumb tracing a line across Apollo’s freckles. “Tell me.”

“Because it just...makes sense. Which doesn’t make any sense at all.” Apollo’s smile was so warm, so open, that Klavier felt as if he was falling in love all over again. “You get what I mean?”

“I get you, liebling,” Klavier said fondly, capturing his lips once more. “I’ve got you.”

_____

Sugar, sugar...oh, that night, in your embrace…

Apollo violently jolted awake at the sound of his ringtone, nearly tumbling right out of bed in the process. Groaning, he blinked blearily into the morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, then threw his arm out in an attempt to grab his phone from his bedside table without getting out from under the covers. Instead, he ended up hitting something else entirely.

“Ach! Apollo, what are you doing?”

“Crap - sorry, Klavier,” Apollo winced, sitting up properly so he could rub the sleep out of his eyes. He then turned to pick up his phone, letting out an annoyed huff when he realized it was just an unknown number. “Great, spam calls. And at this hour?” He paused. “Wait...what time is it? Shit, it’s - Klav, it’s almost eleven!”

“Perfekt,” Klavier sighed, rolling back over and pulling the duvet over his head. “Another seven hours, bitte.”

“No, i-it’s eleven in the morning!” Apollo shook Klavier’s shoulder. “Babe, we gotta get up!”

“Why?” Klavier said, yawning as he reluctantly opened his eyes. “It’s the weekend, süßer, relax. Neither of us has anywhere to be, ja? I missed my morning run, sure, but considering we didn’t fall asleep until...ach, three? Four? I’m in no mood to work out.”

“But...shouldn’t we…” Apollo was swiftly interrupted by his own yawn. “...fine, fine, you have a point.” He collapsed back into bed, defeated. Grinning victoriously, Klavier pulled him closer, fitting him snugly underneath his chin. Apollo braced his hand against Klavier’s chest; his heartbeat was steady, comforting, beneath Apollo’s fingers. “Seriously, though, let’s never do that again.”

“I don’t know about that,” Klavier hummed. “Personally, I thought it was a night to remember.”

“A night to remember, not a night to repeat,” Apollo muttered. Klavier merely laughed, dropping his head to rest on top of Apollo’s, briefly turning to kiss his forehead. “Klavier…”

“I mean it, liebe,” Klavier murmured; Apollo felt his own eyes drifting shut at the sound of Klavier’s low, soothing voice, his muscles relaxing as his body melted against Klavier’s familiar embrace. “We have nothing to do today. Sounds like the right time to take a nap, don’t you think?”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get a few more hours,” Apollo mumbled into Klavier’s chest. “Early dinner after we get up?”

“Someone’s optimistic,” Klavier chuckled, rubbing Apollo’s shoulder. “Sure, baby. Now go back to sleep, okay?”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my sixth entry for Klapollo Week 2021! Continuity-wise, this is the fifth of seven fics, but again, there is no need to read the others to follow each fic on its own. This is definitely the most plotless fic out of the seven, which is just fine by me, since as I've mentioned before, I love writing dialogue between these two - especially when they're together and get to lovingly snark on each other. It gives me a chance to slip in some little headcanons here and there without worrying about connecting it to the actual plot. For some reason, I have this really vivid image in my mind of Jove holding Apollo on his back while singing along to the radio and working in the kitchen; I think it would be adorable (and a little heartbreaking).

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you’re all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

#KlapolloWeek2021 #klapollo #kyodoroki #klapollo fic #ace attorney #ace attorney fic #myfic #long post #this one is no plot all soft lmao #i keep wanting to make longer versions of all my klapollo week fics whoops

24 notes · View notes

sterekficrec · 3 years

Text

Last Chance Asks!

Hey guys, these are asks that have been on our lost fic list for a very long time, I'm going to put them here so we can still save them and that we'll create more room for new lost fics that have yet to be found. If you find any of these let me know by using the number and mention it's from the last chance list, thank you in advance :)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey, I've been looking for this fic for months and can't seem to find it. It's about stiles leaving BH to get away from the supernatural but in the city he goes to he meets an old female alpha who knew Talia. He becomes frds w her and lends her a book which she gives to Derek who spills coffee on it and when he goes to the bookstore he meets stiles there. I think the pack moved too and is living in a house together for school. I looked everywhere and couldn't find it, help please and thanks

I've just started reading this fic, it's pretty short when my laptop died so I can't find it now. Um, it was about like after apocalypse with zombies and stiles is bitten so he has to kill himself. I'm sorry if it's vague but I'm really itching to finish it. A lot of angst if it helps?? thank you

looking for a fic with KindaNerd!derek who Stiles helps one day after school and they start hanging out and as time passes Derek grows to be handsome. Then when they graduate Derek tells the school about how Stiles saved his life that day he called him, and tears from Laura and Erica happen and Sterek kisses ensure. Do you happen to know what fic I mean and the name of the fic? xx

Hey I'm trying to find a fic. I think the name was daddy issues, but I'm not sure. Maybe it was daddy issues. It was one where stiles was with a bunch of guys (including Derek Hale, Chris Argent and others I don't remember) thanks!

hey I was wondering if you could help me find a fanfiction where stiles works for like a suicide or depression hotline and derek calls one day and the two of them kind of bond? I've been looking everywhere for it and I cant seem to find it!

10.

hey! ive been looking for a fic for a real long while. the whole pack goes away to a cabin for a bonding experience, with people sharing rooms. there is a beach, and places to go shopping. lydia and/or allison go shopping with stiles at somepoint and get him things so he looks super hot at a club. white pants and something painted on him. and then derek freaks and leaves them all. lemme know if you know this one???

11.

Hiya.! Well, I read this fic about a year ago and it was amazing and I want to read it again but I forgot the name, it's a fic were Scott was never bitten and stiles gets kidnapped and taken to some werewolf camp in Newyork and becomes Derek's mate and eventually meets his family. Can you please help me? And btw. Your blog is amazing. It gives me life.

12.

Hi I was wondering if u knew a series on archive of our own where stiles gets kidnapped with Boyd and Erica and comes back With them and joins that pack and becomes Derek's mate and then later in the series he yells at Derek and Cora about taking the pack away from him if he doesn't act nicer to them thanks sorry for the crappy summary

13.

okay i dont know how far out of canon you like to go or how AU you like, but do you recall a sterek fic that had stiles getting tattooed for magical purposes and part of the tattoo requires 3 blood donors (father-sheriff, brother-scott, lover-derek) but he hasnt told derek the lover bit yet and the chick tattooing him is like some elf girl i think named leeloo or something.... i just cant find it in the tattoo stiles track or the magical stiles track. it was either a series or one big ass one.

14.

do you know a sterek fanfic where Stiles is an omega werewolf and he stumbles upon the hale territory and Derek Hale plans to take him in for only one night but Stiles makes breakfast and the pack love him and cliche blah?

16.

hi, wondering if you can help me find an older fic, it's one where Stiles is magical and Derek's pack is grown up, I think Boyd and Erica have a kid, and someone tries to set the pack house on fire but now its magiced fireproof, but the forest burns, and the hunters come but Stiles uses his magic to bring the forest back to life and ties himself to the land... Sorry that's a weird synopses but it's all I can remember clearly

17.

Hey can you find a fic where the pack was using stiles in training like hunting him but a werewolf jumps him in the woods and stiles thinks it's derek and submits and it turns out it wasn't derek and since stiles submitted derek says the alpha has like a certain amount of days to get stiles to say yes and that was as far as I got please find this!

18.

hey so I'm looking for one fic, I hope you can help find it :) it's about Stiles being sacrificed to the werewolves to keep the town safe and there's whole werewolf village. there was no Hale fire, Laura has a husband and kids. later Scott was bitten by some rouge (or Peter I don't remember) and came to the village 'causee hunters wanted to kill him. I remember that when they were fighting other weres or maybe hunters (or was it just fullmoon?) Stiles saved Laura's kids from being killed. help?

19.

do you know the fic were in which Derek helps hook stiles up with some dude & in the process he reveals that he's into stiles & stiles kind of ignores it so Derek eats ice cream and watches Disney movies and stiles happens in on him & is all, "what."

20.

i'm looking for a fic that i think is a 5+1 cuddles thing? all i can remember from it is that there's a fae fight in alison's bedroom and derek got ripped apart so stiles pushed him into the closet and is trying to hold derek's guts in? i've asked a lot of ficrec blogs but no-one can find it for me, so thanks in advance if you can!

21.

Can you please help me I already tried twficfinder, LJ, etc. Its a sterek fic made in 2012 where Stiles helps Derek get his families life insurance, parents will or just money cause he's living in a bad place & has no income. Derek feels guilty & doesn't feel deserving of that. Stiles drives them to where the person in charge of fixing that is. Derek might be rich. They buy wood for the floor of the Hale house. Scott or Sheriff ask why he's helping Derek. Its not Out of Milk or Hale Construction

23.

I'm looking for a fix where stiles hires a dom, but she declines and instead he goes to derek? I think at one point, they make a list of things that are allowed, and everyone can see the bruises left behind, but stiles is really happy. Any help is much appreciated!

24.

Do you know the one where Derek hurts stiles ankle before a carnival or fair and takes stiles but ends up attacking him but is stopped by a psychic and she puts Derek's wolf in stiles so that stiles is the alpha

26.

hi i was wondering if youve read a sterek fic where derek basically tells stiles that his mom dying was nothing compared to him basically killing his family cause of the fire. i cant seem to find it anywhere.

27.

I've been looking for this fic everywhere and I can't find it! It's attempted non con with stiles and a original character but stiles hits the guy with a rock and kills him by mistake and calls derek panicking and derek helps cover it up. Do you know it?

29.

Okay, so I need help. I have been looking for this fic for over a year and i was wondering if you knew it. It's where stiles is a kid and his mother is in the hospital dying, and derek is in a coma from the fire and they connect on a telepathic level and stiles brings him out of his coma and stiles mom dies and the derek moves and checks up on stiles yearly. HELP ME PLEASE?? Thank you for taking the time to read this.

31.

Hi! So I'm trying to find a fic (it was lengthy) but I'm pretty sure it was a 5+1 trope, and its like five times Sheriff recognizes Derek as a son? All I can recall is at one point Sheriff thinks Stiles killed Derek and he offers to help him hide it?

33.

I read a Sterek AU ages ago but I can't find it now, I was wondering if you'd read it and could possibly send me a link? It's the one where Stiles sets up an online dating account to mock people and he starts talking to who he thinks is Derek. The two become really good friends but when Stiles goes to meet Derek he finds out that Derek has no idea who he is and Laura started the account for a joke, and is engaged.

34.

Hey! I was just wondering if you could find a fic for me? All I remember is that it was really short, about soulmates and stiles was playing a drum in the snow! Thanks! I've been looking for it for ages!

35.

Hi bb can you help me find a fic? Derek & Laura(?) are twins. Stiles has magic powers & is bff w/ Laura, who later dates Lydia or Allison. Derek paints Stiles in an attic or something & Laura is jealous bc she doesn't want sterek to happen. Thanks!

36.

i think its backround sterek, but do you know the fic where the pack is afraid to touch stiles because they think they're hurting him but really it's touch starved!stiles

38.

Hey, I've completely forgotten the name to fic, I remember that stiles is a lil bit of a delinquent so the sheriff gets derek who's a college student I think to watch over him and they have sex and they're sort of like fuck buddies and at some point it's Derek's birthday and he has a party at his apartment??? idk do u guys know this fic lmao please help!!!

39.

Hey so love your account Anyway I was wondering if you knew the story where the pack like finds a mysterious knife and stiles cuts himself and then gets thrown into the past and is trying to get Paige and Derek together? I hope that made sense Again love the account, such a life saver!

40.

Hey I was wondering if you knew the title of the fic where (I think its Stiles) who's a single father and his daughter is obssessed with bunnies and at some point Derek makes a lil park in the backward for the bunnie?

41.

Ok so I'm looking for a fic where it's after the hale fire and Derek lived in a small cabin by himself then he sends for omega human stiles and they live with each other cause Derek needs pack and he stays in his wolf form a lot of the time. It's like a super slow burn and angst you. Can you help a bro out?

43.

Hey, I read this fic once on ao3 about Stiles having tons of nightmares from the nemeton after Derek leaves. Then he starts calling him when he has panic attacks. He has to do the underwater sacrifice to get rid of the nightmares and when he comes out of the water Derek's there waiting for him and then they get together... It's seriously driving me crazy that I can't find it!!! Do you know what fic I'm talking about??

44.

hey im looking for a fic and I've been googling increasingly strange things but i just cant find it so i was hoping you might have read it? im pretty sure its quite short, but basically allison goes to stiles to ask about werewolf sex and then stiles makes derek give him the werewolf sex talk so that he can clue the rest of the pack in. thank you xx

45.

Hi! I'm looking for a specific fic! It's like Stiles is at a club, and he's sitting at the bar and sees his ex walk in and he gets really panicky because he starts walking over so he grabs the closest guy to him and kisses him? And it turns out the guy he kissed was Derek? I can't find it anywhere!

46.

Hi i was wondering if you could help me find a fic. I dont really remember much just that it was sterek and that cora read some spell that sent Derek back in time and he ended up mating to Stiles but when they have children Cora fixes it and Derek goes back to him normal time and tells cora that he has to go back because he has a mate but cora tells him that he has to wait until the full moon i think and in the end he and cora go back to stiles time and stay there

47.

I was wondering if you might know of a fic I am looking for. It's one of those Sheriff Finds Out ones and it's in his POV. I remember that it had Melissa in it and she let the Sheriff into a house/Room where the pack (they are a pack in this) was all cuddling in groups. I remember once specific moment where he observes Alison and Scott and notices their closeness with Isaac. And I am pretty sure Stiles is asleep on Derek. I know this is not very descriptive but I was wondering if you knew of one

48.

Hello I'm searching for a sterek fic I read a while back and I can't find it 😔 it's a fic where Stiles discovers he's a wizard or a shaman or something like that and he's linked to plants somehow and there are many pack interactions like pack cuddles and stuff so many pack feels and then the pack is being attacked and the forest is destroyed and Stiles manages to grow it back and he's like part of the forest it's such a great fic so beautifully written, do you happen to know what's this fic?

49.

Hello, lovely. I have been trying to fing a fic where Dean and Cas from Supernatural are Stiles parents and Derek knocks him up. While Stiles goes through the pregnancy, a Big Bad from the past comes back and messes with Stiles. Sorry, this is vague.

50.

I was wondering if anyone remembered a story where Stiles was half-daeva (I believe), Scott was his Permissor, but no one else in the pack knew until another pack kidnaps them and stiles shows up to destroy them all. I remember reading it ages ago but I can't find it in my bookmarks :/

51.

Hi, can you help me find sterek fanfic? It's coffee shop au, Stiles is barista, Derek is customer who wants plain coffee but Stiles always goes crazy with toppings, there us Peter too, creepy but good, can't find it on ao3 (╯︵╰,)

52.

Ok I've been searching for this one fantastic fic I read ages ago but can't find and was hoping you guys might know! It's established relationship w pack mom Stiles and he's away at college but they all just kind of move in w him and he buys Erica tampons and Boyd McDonald's gift cards and brings Chinese food and is generally lovely?? I think it was a one shot and relatively short but I'm dying to read it again :(

53.

Hello! I'm looking for a sterek fic. I think it was a 5+1 type fic where people/random strangers thought the pack members were Derek and Stiles' children. Please and thank you! :)

54.

Idk if you find sterek fics but i can't remember it, please help. Stiles is kidnapped by faeries but then talks them into a peace treaty? I think it was on archive but I'm not getting anything.

57.

Hi! I can’t seem to find a fic I love and was wondering if you could help me find it? Stiles is in a bar with friends, I remember Lydia and Jackson being there, and is insisting he is a Alex god who can get any number he wants and jackson tells him to get that guys number and points to Derek and stiles basically goes up to him and says “I am trying to convince my friends I’m attractive can you give me a fake number?” and he does but it turns to be real???

58.

I’ve been looking for this fic where stiles has been out of town for a while and when he gets back he stops at this gas station on the edge of town and gets jumped by some redcaps I think? And then the guy who runs the station comes out and sees this kid covered in blood and calls Derek because strange kid I’ve never seen before covered in redcap blood, maybe come check this out? And Derek didn’t know stiles was coming back early because it was supposed to be a surprise. Thanks so much!

59.

I love your blog and I was hoping you'd help me with this fic I've been looking for forever. Stiles is either an orphan or his dad is irresponsible, and he's not exactly highly regarded but the Hales and of course Derek love him and welcome him at their house. But Stiles feels guilty/unworthy and doesn't always want to accept their help. At one point, he turns feral or something and Derek has to coax him out, and one of the Hales have a baby who loves Stiles (I think Peter's or Laura's). Thanks!

60.

hey :) there's this old fic i want to re-read where stiles is a mage(or someone who controls elemental magic) and hes hurt/rejected by Derek and leaves with someone where there are other people with elemental magic and he trains. If it helps: I remember in the big fight they wore shirts that matched with their powers. Could you please help me? thanks

#lastchance #sterek fic rec

25 notes · View notes

ad1thi · 3 years

Text

2020 fic recs!! [Part 1]

this idea was stolen from @iam93percentstardust cuz i just,,,thought that this year was absolute shit and it would be nice to make a fic rec list of fics from this year that helped me through it. this will be over a range of fandoms and ships, but all fics were written this year.

fics are ordered by the month they were published. ive tried to keep to five fics per month, but this is not obviously all the fics ive read that month - i just didn’t want to make this insanely long.

im releasing the first half of this on the 1st of December, and the second half on the 1st of January 2021 - because otherwise it would just get so long (and also so i will actually have fics for December)

happy reading!! hopefully you find fics on this you haven’t read yet

***

January

The cat is mighty dignified (until the dog comes by): @five-wow

Steve and Danny find them on the pillow in the corner of the dining area, where Eddie is on his side, ass half on the floor because the pillow is more cat-sized than lab-sized, and Pickles is nestled between Eddie’s front legs, essentially being spooned and looking very I-got-the-cream about it. Pickles’ head is tucked into the crook of Eddie’s neck and Eddie’s head slots perfectly on top of Mr. Pickles’, like a furry jigsaw puzzle.

“They’re cuddling,” Steve points out, unnecessarily.

Or: There is a love story unfolding under the McGarrett roof.

Captain ‘Socialist Rage Muffin’ America: @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

It takes three months of dating Steve Rogers for Tony to understand why Aunt Peggy once shot at him in sheer frustration.

Alternately titled, Honey, I committed treason again.

The Best Laid Plans (Of Mice and Men): @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

Fourteen Million to One: @tunastorks

Six months after Thanos, six months after Tony’s death, six months after Steve returns to his own timeline, Tony Stark turns up on their doorstep.

Brewed Awakening: @iam93percentstardust

Two years after he comes out of the ice, Steve is drifting through life. On his teammate's recommendation, he decides to go back to school where he meets the grandson of an old friend. He finds happiness with Tony but Steve won't be in Boston forever and someone is out to hurt the Starks. Will Steve and Tony be able to reach their happily ever after?

February

the young, the reckless and the foolish: @bruciewayne

In most universes, they don't know each other, not in the slightest, or they hate each other, in a way that's perfectly logical for anyone who were to find themselves in a similar situation.

In this one, they've known each other since they were four years old and naively idealistic.

This is them over the years, against the odds.

a giant sign: @areiton

“Think you can get him to open the weapons division up again?” his CO asks, his voice hungry and Rhodey laughs because this--

“No. Tony hung up his weapons.”

“That’s not what the suit says,” his CO objects, and Rhodey shrugs.

Tony has always had rules, rules he expects the entire world to live by.

And then there was Rhodey, slipping under them.

my heart is driftwood, floating down your coast: @nethandrake

Tonight, there’s a stranger in his backseat. That’s not unusual.

He’s also sad. That’s not unusual either.

What is unusual is that the stranger is silent.

(One night, a stranger enters Steve's taxi. Nothing is the same again.)

Just A Cold: @/delighted

There’s a new text waiting for him. It’s from Steve of course, and it’s vaguely threatening as most messages from Steve are these days. Still Danny ignores it, and now he’s really playing with fire. Maybe it’ll burn the cold out of him.

Or, Danny’s sick, and Steve can’t stay away. The usual comfort fluff. With a little cameo from a gently meddling Grace.

An Unexpected Guide: @/Rachel500

Danny Williams has hidden his Guide status to keep being a detective, but his time of hiding is up when he unexpectedly finds his Sentinel, Steve McGarrett in the midst of a tragedy.

March

Why don’t we (Collide the spaces that divide us): @five-wow

When they finally catch sight of each other again through the milling crowds, they’re both a little worse for wear. Danny’s left side is covered in glitter and every time he brushes a hand over his hair, more blue and purple confetti rains down. Steve is- Well, Steve is randomly shirtless, which is all things considered not excessively remarkable, but he’s also covered in smudges of colorful paint and has a very nicely printed bloodred lipstick kiss mark on his cheek.

“What did you do?” Danny asks, because it looks like Steve had a lot more fun than he did.

Or: Steve and Danny accidentally end up in the middle of something entirely new.

A Little Unsteady: @finduilasclln

Written for the Tumblr prompt meme : "Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

Tony lashes out at Bucky for eating his dessert. Only, it really isn't about the dessert.

a national treasure: @starklysteve

Steve isn't looking for an apple and Tony decides his passion is to inspire young souls. -x- OR: the AU where Tony is a Youtuber and Steve is Captain America and somehow they still save the world together.

April

cycle through: @ambivalentmarvel

Twenty-five years ago, Tony Stark disappeared from his family home a month after the tragic deaths of his parents, Howard and Maria Stark, leaving a billion-dollar tech conglomerate without an heir and the world wondering what happened.

Twenty-three years ago, HYDRA gained another super soldier.

Ten years ago, Peter Parker’s parents died in what is ruled as a home invasion gone wrong but he knows was murder, plain and simple, because he spoke to the killer.

And in the present, Project Insight fails, and the Iron Soldier pays the price.

FOREVER-LOVE YOU-I: @/Eudoxia

Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

Especially for Tony's soulmate.

Companion piece to my fic Thumb, Index, and Pinky Extended. This is Steve's POV, with a few extra scenes, as a treat.

(Edit: Sorry if you guys get multiple notifications for this. I just realized (about two hours after posting it) that I fucked up the grammar in the title and I HAD to fix it. YOLO, I guess.)

come build a home out of me: @maguna-stxrk

Steve clears his throat.

“What if I went with you?” he asks nonchalantly, like his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his ribcage.

Tony blinks a few times, looking at Steve, his mouth ajar. “As a— As my date?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, feeling a little breathless.

“You don’t mind?” Tony furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t. In fact, you can just tell them I’m your boyfriend. I’m sure they’ll back off, wouldn’t they?”

What.

“I— Huh?” Tony stares at him, brown eyes blown wide open.

What. What. What.

“Huh? Uh, I mean— You know, that way people will see that you have definitely moved on. Monica will see that you have moved on. Right?” Steve smiles, hoping that it masks his inner panic, because what?

Steve Rogers, what have you done?

i don’t have a choice (but i’d still choose you): @nethandrake

There’s a name inked onto his chest, a name written in an all-too familiar scrawl. And it’s— It’s—

Steve doesn’t realize his body is quaking until he’s tracing the tattoo with a shaky finger.

Because of course that is the name etched into the skin. Like a brand, a reminder for everything he has done. An appropriate retribution.

Anthony Edward Stark.

(When Thanos snaps half of the universe away, he unknowingly leaves the other half with soulmarks.)

ua haʻalele ʻoe iaʻu (a ua hoʻomālamalama ʻoe iaʻu): @just-fandomthings

"The truth is, I was shot in the chest and nearly died, and not even three days after I was released from the hospital, you up and left-- and of those two, I'm not sure which one hurt me worse!"

(Coda to 10x22 because come on, we all need a better ending than the one given to us.)

Title loosely translates to: "You left me in the dark (you lit me up)" -- inspired by the brilliant song "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur

May

A Piece Of The Past: @hddnone

It had been so many years since Bucky had gone undercover in the Stark family's mob, he thought he'd gotten away clean.

Then Tony Stark slid into the seat across from him at his breakfast diner, and Bucky's boss has a new case for him.

the privilege of loving you: @starklysteve

“Why won’t you let me touch you?”

It’s a desperate plea, half-shouted and half-whispered, Steve’s voice cracking at the end. Tony stops in his tracks, halfway to the stairs. He doesn’t dare to turn back, and he really doesn’t want to fight, or to leave, to spend the last month of his life away from his husband and their son. But Steve can’t know, can he?

-x-

Or: Tony has palladium poisoning, but he doesn't tell Steve and Peter

your pillow feels so soft now (but still you must advance): @firebrands

When Bruce is 13, he decides to go to boarding school. It's an opportunity for him to learn about other people, and how to interact with them.

Bruce has the misfortune of meeting Tony Stark upon his arrival in Roxbury. Bruce is moving into his room, and Tony opens the door of his room to watch. He looks a bit younger than Bruce, hair wild and eyes bright. Bruce has never seen a boy like him before—handsome and confident.

Bruce doesn’t like it.

IMPORTANT: This fic has them meeting at 14, then progresses slowly until they’re 17. Includes underage drinking and kissing.

This is set before Bruce becomes Batman and Tony becomes Iron Man and I have no explanation as to how or why they just DO Canonically, Bruce is 17 when he finishes school and goes around the world to train, so we're sticking with that

The Real MVP: @sword-and-stars (part of a series)

[“I have saved this Tuesday!” Sokka announces, rattling the bag upon reentry.

Zuko doesn’t even look up from his phone as he deadpans, “It’s Thursday.”

Okay, so Sokka is still having trouble getting his days right without checking. At least he’s gone back to sleeping at night! Going to bed at night is way easier when you have a cute, cuddly boyfriend who starts falling asleep around eleven o’clock. It also helps that he and Zuko are on solid gold butt-touching terms.

It’s been a while since Sokka has been on butt-touching terms with someone and it’s amazing.]

Or,

Sokka knows a guy, gets laid, and introduces Zuko to the merits of an afternoon delight.

When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it): @riotwritesthings

There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch.

And one tiny little bed.

June

Nice Fingers: @anthonyed

A single compliment given by Tony stirs Bucky restless until he caves in and asks him out on a date.

With Steve’s help of course (whether he likes it or not).

The Darkest Touch: @starkrogerrs

This is the story of how Steve finds that it has been ordained that he is to marry a monster he cannot resist aka the God of Love himself, Tony.

It's Cupid x Psyche retold, but with thrice the amount of porn.

The Night Shift: @weethreequarter

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Wind Beneath My Wings: @iam93percentstardust

Sam first meets Tony Stark in 2005 when he joins the EXO-7 Falcon program.

In jest: @/apathyinreverie

“No, babe,” Danny shakes his head with a grin. “If the apocalypse were to go down while I’m elsewhere for some godforsaken reason, then you stay put and I’m coming to wherever you are.” His grin widens. “And I expect you to have cleared any aliens or zombies or whatever else might be messing with us off the island and to have set up a nice, comfortable military dictatorship for us to rule over by the time I get back.”

It’s a joke.

Of course it’s a joke.

Until it isn’t.

(A the-day-after-tomorrow-style apocalypse AU, where the world decides to end right when Danny is visiting one of the other islands with Grace. Because, of course, it does.)

#adi's rec list #mcdanno #stevetony #buckytony #brucetony #rhodeytony #zukka #samtony #january - june #there's so many different ships on this #and different authors #and it spans three fandoms #so hopefully you guys enjoy this!!

98 notes · View notes

hectabdr · 3 years

Text

Dragon Raja IV - Chapters 13 - 15 + epilogue (Abridged)

Hi everyone, sorry for taking so long to post the last part, I had a lot of work this week.

BTW, since it's over, I put the whole novel summary on a PDF document, which you can download from here.

Previous Chapters

Chapter 13

The nurse at the mental hospital couldn't believe her eyes when Luminous came back and requested to be admitted in his old room. He asked for his usual injection and went back to his not-so-favorite video game level.

In his vision, he kept accelerating far away form the swarm of death servitors, everything went according to plan and they still had lots of time to spare. He made many excuses to Nono in an attempt to justify his incredible performance, in the radio, there was a very strange song, Luminous recognized it, the name was "Daily Growing" by the folk group Altan, it was the same song that Johann and his father heard before they ran into Odin.

Nono was confused, Luminous just seemed to know way too many things. He knew about the damaged tire, about every safe route, the reach of the Nibelungen and the presence of a small, strange building hiding in the distance. It was the Media Asia Group building, according to Finger, this is the place where Nono found Chu Tianjiao's home. If this was a Nibelungen, an exact copy of the room should be there as well, still intact.

There was nothing surprising about the small place, but that was intentional. A person like Tianjiao was probably trained against people with skills like Nono's, so there had to be a secret compartment or a hidden door. He lifted the bed and there it was!

Mr Chu managed to create an underground bunker for himself. There was a bigger, more comfortable bed, a record player with Elvis Presley's discs and leather jackets. Luminous wanted to be more like this stylish man every second he spent there.

He noticed a bunch of pictures hanging from a string. Tianjiao spend a lot of time making copies of photographs from his family, but he wasn't in them, there was another man next to his wife and his son, but he used chemicals to erase him from the images. He also wrote small phrases dedicated to his wife in the back of the photos, like:

"This is the first year since you left me, you look good"

"This is the third year, you're getting fat"

"Fifth year, I don't have time to think of you anymore"

"Sixth year. ...but I still miss you".

The rest of the walls were filled with images and documents connected by red strings. Multiple events were listed in them, including the fall of Black Swan Bay in 1991 and the Greenland incident from November 7, 2002. These events related to dragon sightings and awakenings all led to a specific incident: The resurrection of the Black king Nidhogg. Even to the other dragon overlords, Nidhogg is a god-like existence, and its words are taken as prophecies. Chu Tianjiao was the city's watchman, he came to that place with a special purpose, but he mistakenly fell in love with a young dancer. They got married and had a child, they were happy, but he knew very well that he couldn't give them a peaceful life, so he signed the divorce papers and watched her take Johann away and marry a different man. While that family went to amusement parks and movie theaters, Tianjiao stayed on his underground room thinking about the fate of mankind.

Luminous memorized as much as he could from Tianjiao's investigation and went back with Nono, he kept driving and they entered the empty city, the lights were still on and the amusement park shined like a neon show.

- I always wanted to be in a Nibelungen, but I didn't expect it to be like this.

- How did you think it would be?

- Distorted, scary, definitely not this beautiful.

They looked up and they saw Odin, standing on top of the clock tower, Nono raised a gun and pointed at him but Luminous held it down, telling her not to disturb him, they kept driving silently and the god didn't notice their presence.

Luminous took her to a shopping mall, where they entered a department store and he gave her a dry change of clothes. This was still strange to her, he already knew her size, he never stopped looking at his watch and somehow he also picked an outfit that she liked (a pair of burgundy sports trousers and a fleece hoodie).

He gave her a cup of hot coffee and he suggested they waited on an empty movie theater while they waited for help.

Nono waited uncomfortable in front of the screen, Luminous picked up a random movie from the projector room, it was Wall·E, the second film roll to be exact, so the film started from the halfway point. The movie slowly relaxed her and she started chewing popcorn while they waited.

- I've been here before, haven't I?.

This was the theater where she rescued him from a failed love confession to Wenwen, before taking him to sign his Cassell admission papers. Actually, Luminous was watching Wall·E with his fellow literature club members. All of these were deliberate choices, he only picked the second half of the movie because they didn't have enough time to watch it from the start.

- You have been here, you have experienced all the things we are experiencing now and I have lived this moment many times.

Nono was a profiler, it wasn't that easy to trick her, so he admitted the truth. At 12:00am, Nono was going to die, like every other time.

- This dream will become a reality. I have repeatedly entered this dream just to find a way to save you, but I couldn't find it.

- If you can't find a way to save me, why don't you save yourself instead?

- My senior brother said that he always regretted leaving his father here alone, that feeling of regret is so terrible, it made him want to go back and die right there.

- Don't say such disgusting things, if this is really my end I will accept it.

The answer became obvious, the only way to escape this Nibelungen was for one person to stay behind and die. As the movie reached its climax, a spear broke through the screen, Nono didn't move, Luminous didn't move.

- No, senior sister, this will not be you end, it will be mine.

Chapter 14

Luminous opened his eyes, it was still a quiet summer night, he slid a small knife that he bought at the convenience store and ripped the straitjacket open. The hospital personnel were resting in different rooms so he sneaked out with ease.

His last attempt was the 108th, none of them managed to give him the perfect ending that he desperately chased. The old man with the tricycle was waiting for him outside, Luminous got on the small bike and drove away. The security guard couldn't believe it when he saw the same tricycle pass by for a third time that night, straight into the elevated road.

Luminous reached the old Asia Group building, now flooded and filled with rubble and mud. He managed to find the secret door and found the insides half-submerged as well, but not everything was ruined, he located a small metal suitcase in the corner that was filled with multiple weapons, including a revolver, a tactical shotgun and a Uzi submachine gun.

All seemed to indicate that this equipment came directly from Cassell College, an academy that never bothered to mention Tianjiao's existence.

In his way out, he picked one of the photographs that managed to survive the flood, it portrayed a family of three. Johann was probably five years old and his expression was as emotionless as usual, his robot face wasn't the result of some traumatic event after all, it came with him from the moment he was born. In the corner, Tianjiao wrote some words as well: "Stay like this, not crying, just looking into the distance".

This arsenal was strong, but insignificant in front of a being like Odin. Ming·Z·Lu showed up to offer one last gift.

Something for nothing, 50% fusion.

Luminous was familiar with that sensation, his nerves burned and the depths of his mind seemed to be cracked open, the pain was bigger than any human can endure, but once it was over, there was a feeling of euphoria, a need to fight. His senses increased immensely, he could now distinguish every single drop in the middle of the rainfall. This usually costed him a full quarter of his life but now it was... Free?

He finally heard the distorted noises of the death servitors, it sounded like the crying of babies. The wall of water and wind that protected Odin became visible, the black figure mounted an eight legged horse. He was in the Nibelungen again, this time he didn't plan to turn around.

Luminous approached them and parked the tricycle next to the Maybach, he stood in front of Odin and the god stayed silent. The words "You are finally here" were not uttered this time, he was right, Odin was waiting for Nono, but he didn't bring her this time, Luminous's presence was meaningless to his rival.

Odin kept staring at the end of the road, waiting for Chen Motong to appear and show her face.

- This is the right way to start the game, my senior sister is not here, only you and me, only one of us can leave this place alive!

He was vey happy, he finally played the god. He slowly grabbed a spear rocket launcher from the tricycle, the little devil was as reliable as always. The servitors immediately recognized the destructive potential of the weapon and tried to disperse, but Luminous opened fire first and scattered their shadowy remains on the road.

He saw his face in a puddle, the crazy expression of Ming·Z was now his own, like every other time they fused, it felt like this was his true nature. Weapon after weapon he ran out of ammo, some servitors sneaked behind him and sliced his torso with their claws, if it wasn't for the bulletproof vest that Tianjiao left in his suitcase, Mingfei would have died already.

A shot of his last gun, a M500 revolver finally broke one of the servitor's masks. He hadn't seen one of those faces since his mission in Japan, their skin was covered in scales and their teeth were long and alien-shaped. Odin gave them black robes and masks to use them as his personal servants. Odin was definitely different to every other dragon king he had faced before, they were all savage and aggressive, but this one was stoic and dressed like a figure of mythology, unless...

That was it! Odin wasn't a dragon disguised as a mythical character, Odin, the myth himself has been a dragon all along. The secret party had misread norse mythology, now it was clear that it narrated the history of the dragon clan and it was written by the dragons themselves. Every god was in fact a dragon king, in those myths, the main antagonist of Nidhogg was Odin. This god had already foreseen the coming of the end of the world, the so-called twilight of the gods, where the world tree would wither.

The suppressed Nidhogg will rise in the air, ready for revenge, it will destroy everything and ruin the kingdom of the gods. Therefore, Odin prepared himself for this battle, ordering the Valkyrie goddesses to gather the heroes's souls and place them in the Hall of Valor to assist him in resisting the black dragon. If the norse myths are indeed dragon history, the hall of valor must represent a place filled with countless dragon cocoons and embryos waiting to be awakened.

This information, this great secret was about to be buried there with him if he didn't survive this battle. Nono was probably packing, ready to leave with Finger and go back to Cassell, for whatever reason Odin needed her, she would be out of his reach, he just needed to endure and Odin was still as invincible as ever. Making a deal with Ming·Z was inadmissible, giving the little devil enough power to materialize could bring an immeasurable catastrophe. The boy appeared in front of him.

- Brother, you finally asked to see me, do you want to... Shake my hand?

The multitude of servitors overwhelmed him, he contemplated dying there, it wouldn't be so bad, just very lonely. With a loud bang! the strongest servitor flew out and fell motionless on the mud.

A red BYD car swiftly parked next to him, a hand came out of the window and shot the three closest servitors, that was Finger, of course it was him!

- Drive faster! Why the fuck are you here?

- What do I know? I was eating dumplings with your aunt and the hospital called to tell me you were gone!

Finger placed a tracking device on Luminous just like he did with Nono and saw his trace disappearing in the highway, so he went to investigate and entered the Nibelungen by accident.

- Don't get confused by my F-Rank rating, I started as an A-rank, remember?

Flammel tasked Finger with helping Luminous to prove Johann's existence, he didn't remember the young hybrid either, but he trusted Anjou, and Anjou believed in the importance of Luminous more than anyone. Not everyone on Cassell gave up on him after all.

- Don't drive away, we can't escape!

- I thought you told me to drive faster!

- Yes I did, but I meant towards Odin!

The servitors quickly realized what they were intending to do, so they formed a barrier in front of their master. Finger pressed a button on the car and one mini-gun came out of each side of the vehicle.

- The equipment department makes phones that double as grenades, you think they can't make 007's car?

The gatling guns opened fire on the crowd of servitors, effectively cleaning the way. Finger put the car on self destruct mode and got ready to jump out, Luminous got on the roof, aiming his knife at Odin. The car hit Odin's water barrier and exploded, the shockwave soared into the sky, filled with flames. Luminous jumped and managed to pass through, and with a swift move, he pierced through Odin with the blade, just like Tianjiao attempted to do many years before.

Every servitor stopped their movements, Odin's scores started dropping down immediately and his body got split in two. There had to be something wrong with that, there's no way he would fall to his death so easily. Luminous took the god's skull and removed the mask, under it, the face of a death servitor greeted him instead, the others started crying and laughing at them. Odin's only goal is Nono, it had always been Nono, this was a trap and he was already on his way to get her.

Chapter 15

Nono was sitting next to Su Xiaoyan's bed, peeling an apple. The woman happily ate the bonbons that Nono brought for her as a gift.

- Nono, how is your mother doing?

- She's fine, she's still working and always asks me when I'll get married but I just don't tell her.

Nono had to make up that story, but at that moment she really felt like Xiaoyan's niece. She checked the woman's medical records, apparently the doctors thought she was schizophrenic and amnesiac, as long as Nono played her role well, the medical personnel would think Xiaoyan's amnesia made her forget about her relative.

Because Nono brought Bonbons, Xiaoyan recognized her immediately and happily accepted her gift.

She had been there since her son's death, she lost track of time, to the point where she felt like she had been there for three or four months, when in reality, seven years had passed. Not many people visited her in that time, her husband would take her home for a few days every now and then, but those events became less and less usual. Of course, Nono was there for a reason, without Tianjiao's apartment, her only remaining clue was Johann's mother, but the woman wasn't very open about her life. Nono's ability allowed her to put puzzles together, but Xiaojiao kept messing up the pieces.

- Did your former husband treat you well?

- He couldn't make enough money and he was very unmotivated, playing foolish all day long, I had enough of him!

- But he's handsome, and he's probably still breaking hearts.

- How do you know that he's handsome? You haven't seen him before.

- Of course I have, I remember hugging my uncle!

- Come on, do you really think I'm that broken? I know I don't have a niece.

- Then why didn't you tell the doctor?

- Because you're so pretty, and I like to chat with pretty girls, there's no one else here to chat with me, and you don't look like a bad person either.

Nono was genuinely surprised, so she declared her intentions straight on, she wanted to know more about Chu Tianjiao, but his ex-wife didn't seem to know a lot about him either, he would constantly lie about his past and alternate between multiple versions of the story.

- Sometimes he told me that he was a great spy, and that he came here to complete a task, and I believed him, without a clue of his salesman-like nature!

- And you still married him?

- He was handsome, and I was young.

Xiaoyan didn't express any regret in divorcing him, she'd rather be with someone she could rely on, but there was something else she could not explain.

- But he seems to have left something behind with me, a very important thing, I just can't remember it.

- What is it?

- I said I can't remember it, I've been thinking about it for a very long time.

- What kind of thing?

- A very important thing, I must find it, it would be very bad if I didn't.

A burst of cold wind opened the windows and made them shiver, Nono stood up and went to close them but she noticed something strange, the flowers on the outside were all withered, black petals flew through the room, she closed the window as fast as she could, something bad had happened and the air outside smelled of death.

She took out a desert eagle from her bag and stopped Xiaoyan from screaming, the woman relied on her intuition to understand that Nono wasn't going to hurt her. The place was silent and the lights flickered, the instinctive feeling of being alert that came from true isolation soon got a hold of her. She and Xiaoyan got out of the room, door after door, every doctor and every patient had disappeared.

The rain and the wind rapidly eroded the building. The day was finally here, she had never been in a Nibelungen before, she once regretted not being able to experience it, now Nibelungen came to see her. She didn't knew wether to be nervous or excited.

- Someone, someone is coming. Su Xiaoyan's voice trembled slightly.

The sound of footsteps made an echo in the building, those weren't human steps, that sounded like a few horses were coming their way. The storm, the Nibelungen, the steed, the rider, it seemed to be an ancient king who came with a strong breath of death, and the flowers in the garden withered in front of him. Nono remembered him, she saw his silhouette in the reflection of the glass when she went to Tianjiao's apartment.

The rider didn't seem to know where Xiaoyan's room was and he was checking them one by one. They ran towards the elevator, the rider was on the first floor so they needed to get to the top as fast as they could without the sound of their steps giving away their position. Behind them, the fluorescent lights went out one by one. Nono finally saw the reflection of the elevator's door in a mirror, but when its doors opened, the light of Odin's flames came out.

They ran in the other direction and soon reached the stairs, they ran down but it didn't matter, they were trapped on an endless loop. She shot at the creature but the bullets melted before touching the god's armor. They kept running and Nono kept shooting back but it wasn't buying them any more time, temperatures were rising and there was no way out.

Odin wasn't even in a hurry to reach them, Nono took Xiaoyan in her arms and ran across a hallway, enduring the terrible heat of the floor. She tried to get out through a window, but after opening the curtains she noticed that the whole world outside had changed and she was greeted by the sight of a roman pantheon.

Nono suddenly fell silent, she helped Xiaoyan to sit down on a bench and put her boots on the woman's feet. She noticed something, she was crying, she was remembering.

- There might be a way for you to get out of here by yourself, now tell me, what did Tianjiao left for you exactly?

- It's... A child. I had a son with him, his name is Johann Chu, I can't find my son... I can't find my son!

Xiaoyan was holding a pillow in her arms, the doctor said that she would put this pillow in her belly every morning and happily declare that she was pregnant. Nono took it from her hands and threw it away.

- Since you have a clear memory of him, you don't need this anymore, you will find your son, although I don't know where.

In this world, those who are not lunatics are the ones who were deceived. Luminous and Su Xiaoyan were the craziest because of their link to Johann Chu, to the truth. His mother's mental disorder was not there because she had lost a son seven years ago, a certain god wanted to modify her memory of him and she was resisting. She tied the little pillow to her back because a child is only safe in his mother's body, she sensed that someone was going to hurt her boy, so she wanted to feel like she could protect him.

Nono pushed Xiaoyan into a cubicle next to the ward and told her to keep the door closed until someone came to rescue her. She took Finger's GPS device out of her bag and broke it, expecting Luminous and Finger to arrive there after seeing her signal disappear. Odin arrived, his flames evaporated the strong currents of water and stood in front of her, Nono kept two knives on her back and a desert eagle in each hand.

- Odin!

The creature and his lance were impossible not to identify, the god actually exists.

- You are finally here.

He slowly raised Gungir and a faint white thread appeared, connecting the tip of the spear and Nono's heart. She thought his goal was Xiaoyan, due to her connection to Johann, but she was wrong, Odin's goal was her and only her. No wonder Luminous threw her down in the library, he probably had a foreboding of her death for some reason and tried to save her, his eyes showed a constant state of panic.

She didn't believe him and they put him on a psychiatric institution. She really wanted to tell him that she was sorry, because she had underestimated him.

She had always tried to be there for Luminous, she couldn't deny that she saw a lot of herself in him, this obsession with taking care of her sidekick was so prevalent because she knew how it was like to be powerless, lost and defenseless, but in the most critical moment, she had failed him.

Nono vaguely heard a song, a duet about a father and his daughter, it was coming from somewhere, along with the noise of a car engine. Luminous was coming, that song came from the radio, but how could she hear him? It didn't matter, she felt him presence and she believed it.

- Luminous! Don't you fucking dare to come here!

Nono shot every bullet she had left and they melted on Odin's presence. The lance was thrown and suddenly, the Maybach smashed through the wall, its lights illuminated Nono's eyes. She smiled, the moment she saw him, the cartridge of her gun was empty. The lance had already started its course and Luminous could only see her lips moving:

- I'm sorry

- Ming·Z·Lu! Luminous roared, time slowed down in his eyes

- The little one is here! Ming·Z smiled, Since I promised my brother that I'd try everything!

Come out! Golden saint cloth of the zodiac!, Phase shift armor!, Fierce fist! Seven-fold ring of the blazing sky!, Absolute domain AT Field!.

Every time he yelled a strange name, Luminous froze for a moment, these strange spells were taken directly from anime shows, they were weapons that lined up in front of Odin's lance, even a nuclear explosion could be rejected by them.

- What are you doing?

- I don't really know what tricks would work so I'm doing all of them!

Ming·Z kept casting spells, the speed of the lance was indeed affected but it never stopped nor it changed its trajectory.

- Hurry up brother, run!

Nono tried to yell, telling Luminous to stay away, but her mouth moved too slowly. Luminous ran past Odin and past the lance. The seven-fold ring was the strongest defense against projectiles, every time the Gungir lance pierced through a layer, it made a loud noise. Nono dropped the empty gun, she didn't have the strength to wield her knives. The spear hadn't arrived yet, and she was already like a lamb crucified on an altar.

Gungir hit the final defense, the sound was almost glass shattering.

- I couldn't stop it, even with the last layer. Give her a hug, kiss her! This is going to be your last chance! I'll buy as much time as possible for you!

Ming·Z made another barrier but the lance broke it, the little devil's hands were splashed with blood and they stained his bow tie, but he didn't care and looked at his side as an indifferent Luminous passed by and stood in front of Nono. He never managed to change the events, just the scenery. Gungir pierced through Ming·Z's chest.

- Brother, I tried my best

- It's ok, I'm here as well.

Luminous wasn't going to hug or kiss Nono, he was there to take her place. He could clearly feel his heart being cut open. The spear hadn't even touched his skin and his body had begun to carbonize and turn black, showing a rare struggle, burning it inch by inch.

- No! No! No! Nono struggled to stand up and pull the lance away from him.

- Don't come near me!

The lance tried to go through him, but it only managed to pin him against the wall. Nono shivered slightly and tears slowly ran down her face, but she didn't realize that she was crying. She always wanted him to grow up and go his own way, to use any advantage she might have over him to push him forward, but now the person who was crying on the floor was her.

- Senior sister, are you okay? It's okay.

Luminous raised his head, half of his head and body were carbonized, the cracks at the end of his lips extended all the way to the roots of his ears. He was really happy, because he finally managed to achieve his goal. He didn't want to live with the regret of losing her, he had seen Johann's own regret already.

Odin wasn't pleased, the god roared as he realized he had missed his chance. Luminous whispered:

- Ming·Z·Lu...

- Brother, I am here, you really found a method to stop the lance!

- In this world, only a monster can stop a monster, and I am the biggest monster in the world...

- Yes, you are the biggest monster in the world, brother! You are awesome! Then, are you ready to make the last deal? I can't do much against the lance, but I can take care of the monster behind it, the little devil is good at this dirty work!

Luminous stared at him and asked for two conditions:

- Kill Odin, but also take Nono back to safety.

- Alright but hurry up! That guy is almost here!

Sleipnir's eight legs made a thunderous sound, the dragon subspecies that Odin mounted carried its master into the room. Luminous raised his blood-soaked hand and gave the little devil a high-five. Ming·Z's figure suddenly appeared in the night sky, this time he stopped laughing and opened his arms. He looked like a suspended cross.

- Something for nothing, 100% fusion.

He breathed deeply, as if he wanted to inhale all of the world's air into his lungs. Sharp bone spurs protruded from his body and he was covered in black scales. Huge black wings sprung from his back and he took flight, diving down, his image poured into Luminous's body.

The carbonized skin quickly peeled off, he experienced musculoskeletal growth and deformation and the sound of a glacier cracking was heard across the hospital.

The black wings were opened and Gungir was ejected from his chest. Sleipnir couldn't move a single inch closer to them, because Luminous placed his hand on the horse's chest. Nono stared blankly at him, because she couldn't tell if the monster in front of her was a friend or an enemy, but Luminous stared back at her.

- Sister, don't be afraid, as long as I live, you'll be fine.

After two years, Chen Motong saw the devil that rescued her from the bottom of the Three Gorges Dam once again. She remembered how he held her, his childlike fear and his voice.

Don't die, don't die, don't die... Don't Die!

- So it was you...

But Luminous didn't hear those words at all, he rushed to Odin, at the flash of lightning, the monsters that had been in conflict with each other so many times, leaving countless disasters, clashed once again, and the claws and the sword stained the place red and black.

They roared, they fought, a war between kings that can only be ended by death.

Epilogue

On the elevated road, Finger stopped for a moment to catch his breath. This guy is usually slacking and his posture is erratic. The death servitors are struggling to even reach his clothes.

There should be half a marathon left before he can lose them, however, the physical strength of those things is almost unlimited.

Seeing him stop, a group of servitors suddenly became excited and the baby-like cries they made reached the heavens. A girl in a black outfit and a gauze mask appeared in front of him, a ninja.

- How did you know I was here?

- I have a radar for pretty girls... Can you handle that many servitors?

Mai Sakatoku drew two small blades.

- Those are too many, I'm specialized in assassination, not group combat. It's a pity that the other two girls are not here...

- Then I hope I can help.

He had a sword in his hand, the mirror-like Murasame suddenly turned black, the black blade light soon extended all the way to his body and the rain around it evaporated. Mai was surprised by the brutality of the sword, but Finger remained indifferent.

- What kind of sword is that?

- Murasame, have you never heard of the Dragon Slayer of Fire? Then you are really kind, but a bit ignorant, my friend!

After saying that, he jumped and cut off the elevated road.

#dragon raja #dragon raja novel #luminous #nono #ming z lu #finger von frings #johann chu

26 notes · View notes

pocmuzings · 4 years

Text

hello hi , it is g , ur friendly local neighbourhood hindu indian ( as in south asian ) ! so a few people requested that i just make a guide-esque sorta thing on hindu indian characters ! im not really good at guides , so instead , these are just little things i’ve noticed or picked up on that could really potentially strengthen the next indian character u ( pretty please ! ) pick up !

disclaimer : i am writing this from my perspective and it is NOT definitive , nor do i speak on behalf of all hindu indians ! i am a 23-year-old bisexual cis female hindu indian , with one older gay brother, and a Train Wreck middle brother . my mother is from new delhi , and my father is from nairobi but has indian heritage ( not sure which part of india bc he’s an Engima ) . i have extended family in india and have visited india about 10-15 times throughout my entire life .

so firstly , im so glad u all are here and want to write more hindu indian characters ! please please do so ! i hope this helps , encourages u , and isnt too confusing !!

psa : i need everyone to know that this is a very basic ‘ guide ‘ and theres a lot it DOESNT touch on or address bc i didnt want to get too Extensive and Detailed and have people Turn off and not Read it . this is just written in the terms of hopefully helping build character / be relevant to characters a bit better that ive employed into writing my OWN hindu indian character creations ! but if u have any other questions pls reach out to me or any other indians in the rpc and im sure we’ll try our best to assist u !

FCS:

one thing i’d really like to say is that its great to see fcs like dev patel , deepika padukone and avan jogia picked up every now and then in rps , but there’s actually a LOT of other indian fcs you could be and should be using ! the main reason people don’t seem to know them is because they’re not ‘ hollywood ‘ stars per se ( it was a super big deal when pr*yanka broke out of bollywood and into bollywood but we don’t talk about her on this Blog ) . they’re usually bollywood stars and i don’t really see bollywood discussed that much in the rpc !

if you’re after MORE indian fcs , i have a tag of indian females here , and indian males here . the fcs on my blogs are also not ALL that exist . there are plenty of other blogs out there that post indian fcs , such as sonamhelps & bollymusings !!! there’s also some really great faceclaim directories out there that include a LOT of indians with resources !

unfortunately , i do not know of any trans indians or nonbinary indians but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist . indian cultures and beliefs are still quite Old School and not super progressive . india only just had it’s first wlw mainstream bollywood film released last year . lgbtqia+ issues are NOT really spoken about in india or within indian families at ALL , and if they are - they’re usually dismissed or reacted to Very Very Badly . ( again this isnt definitive and im sure and hopeful that some indians have had GREAT coming out stories and been accepted by their families but this has not been a common thing ive seen or witnessed from my cousins my age , indian friends , myself and my brother who are lgbtqia + )

FOOD :

we do eat with our hands and we eat like PROS with our hands . we can shovel it so easily and quickly . i don’t know how to describe it but you use the first three fingers of your hand to place the Food there , and then use your thumb to kinda scoop it off and into your mouth . this is NOT unhygienic because indians wash their hands very regularly and most of the time we aren’t actually touching our mouths to our hands !

indian food is MADE to be eaten with your hands for the most part . it is literally NOT practical to eat food with a knife and fork . here’s a really great article explaining things more in depth re: indian food and using our hands !

cows are seen as Very holy beings in hindu indian culture , and for that reason - there isn’t a lot of beef being eaten or consumed. sure , some indians DO eat beef but i don’t think its super common, but in my personal experience as a non-beef-eater this results in A LOT of me asking ‘ oh , sorry what sauce does that pasta come with ? ‘ ‘ oh those are beef sausages ? sorry i can’t eat them ‘ etc etc . beef is in a LOT of things , and this makes me very very careful and almost pedantic about what i do eat and ask about , food wise !

indian food is seen as stinky by a majority of white people . it has a very very strong smell as im sure u know , and opening ur lunch box as a little kid to a Curry or Dal ur mum has made u ? one way street to being bullied . i also remember a time a real estate agent continuously told my dad nobody was interested in buying our house bc it smelled too much like curry, despite my mum not having cooked curry in Weeks ( just say what u Really mean , bitch ! )

indian curry exists but so does dal / daal . this is curry-like dish that is usually made out of lentils . so if ur going to talk about indian food and u know curries and samosas . . pls also bring up dals . and sabji ! ( sabji is usually just boiled vegetables plopped together . a lot of potato usually )

desserts are what we call Indian Sweets . this is stuff that is usually very VERY sugary and a bit of an accustomed taste . theyre very colourful and LOOK beautiful but even i , for one , can not eat many indian sweets bc they are a Lot of Sweet and Sugar . examples of indian sweets that u can google : gulab jamun , burfi , rasgulla , jalebi etc . here’s a great link for more !

give me spiced food or give me death . literally . . put some cumin in . . put some garam masala . . put some chillies . . flavour ur Food for my Indian Taste Buds

FAMILY :

if you are the oldest son of an Indian Family . . congratulations . you are now the Head of the family and must carry every weight and burden alone . it is extremely isolating and taxing on you ( my dad is the oldest indian son , and also - so is my eldest brother , obvs ) . there is a LOT that is expected of you to do . you are expected to quite literally run the family and be the ‘ man of the house ‘ by yourself .

if you are a daughter . . . even BIGGER congratulations ! you are basically a maid to every male or guest who EVER comes over to your house . you must be a Hostess , you must be in the kitchen cooking , serving snacks, bringing tea , and then washing up and basically waiting on Hand and Foot . you will not be included into a lot of dialogue or engaged in a lot of conversation and TRUST ME ! THAT WILL GRIND UR GOD DAMN GEARS IN THE 21ST CENTURY !

if you are a boys’ boy ( aka straight and Sporty ) , then congrats ! you get it the easiest : you are the favourite of every social event . the uncles and cousins love talking to you and dude-ing it up with you , and the aunts fawn over you and think you’re the Best Thing since sliced bread . sit back , put your feet up , and expect to be treated like a God. you can do absolutely no wrong . ( my middle brother is this to a T and listen . . he’s been in and out of jail for physical violence and ab*se for over 5 years . and family still FROTH over him . my teeth are gritted to dust thinking of this again )

indian aunties are lethal . they gossip like teenage girls . they will find out everything . they will bitch behind your back . they can NOT be trusted .

everyone is ur uncle or aunt, sister or brother . literally everyone . ur cousin ? no. thats ur sister . ur dads friend ? no , thats ur uncle . you will call them as such . EVERYONE is family .

family is in general a VERY BIG THING in indian culture , too . ‘ what will it Look like to everyone else if we don’t all arrive together ? ‘ my dad usually asks dskjdfjn . it’s all about Looking Right and Standing As A United Front . that being said , indian family has undying and unwavering loyalty for one another , they just show it in a very Weird way .

FASHION:

female hindu indian formal clothes are usually really embroidered to hell and back and this makes them very scratchy , uncomfortable, and HEAVY . you aren’t running anywhere anytime soon in a full blown lehenga or saree

most ‘ modern ‘ hindu indian women do not wear full Indian Clothes all the time . some do , but usually it’s a lot of wearing a kurti tunic with jeans , or just normal everyday clothing . again , this is going to be different based on which parts of india your character is from , though !

usually , older women and married women wear traditiona hindul indian clothing quite often . i know my mum wore a sari AT HOME everyday when i was growing up, until i was like 13 and took her shopping with me to get something Else to wear .

bindi’s just stick right onto ur forehead but they do fall off a lot , especially when ur wearing makeup or sweating . again , you don’t need to wear a bindi everyday , unless thats ur preference . i usually only wear them for festivals . ( festivals means indian celebrations , not like . . coachella ((which u should not be wearing a bindi to , if ur not indian fyi )) )

male formal clothes are usually just literally anything Formal and buttoned up for the most part , and u can get away with that , or you can wear a really nice kurta

indians wear white at funerals , not black ( not sure if this should go in the fashion section but this entire thing is being organised into a Mess by now anyways ) . you CAN wear black to a funeral of course , but its common to wear white !

DATING ( tw’s for islamaphobia ):

modern day indian / desi fuck boys exist and my god they are Something Else . hasan minhaj did a really good piece about this and explaining them to a T ( starts at 1:43 )

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT WILL MENTION ISLAMAPHOBIA AND HOMOPHOBIA ! ) basically according to Older indians , , ur dating options in 2020 go like this ( if ur a cis female like me ) : hindu indian men are god tier , white men are Not Okay But I Guess So Bc We Have To Accept They’re Everywhere , females / being lgbtqia+ is not Taken Seriously , and muslims are literally not even close to being an option or Accepted . again this isn’t definitive but based on a lot of indian media i’ve consumed and seen how they portray muslims in general as well as Dating Options , as well as talking to other indians , both who are older / traditional and hold these ideals , whereas Younger gens generally do NOT hold these ideals / actively are Against these backwards ideals. i remember when i was in year 6 and had my first boyfriend . . he was a muslim and my dad FLIPPED the FUCK out . it’s not even that i was dating someone / young / his only daughter . . it was mainly because i was dating a muslim . again , this is a very OLD SCHOOL and traditional way of thinking and it is NOT CORRECT . pls don’t take this as a note to be islamaphobic if u write an indian character bc . . thats literally the opposite of what im trying to tell u here .

yeah arranged marriages are definitely still a thing for us , even now in 2020

YES if u are an unmarried / single indian ( ESPECIALLY if ur a woman ) about to enter ur 30s . . ur in DANGER and u are the black sheep and theres probably something Wrong With You bc why are u still single ?

TRADITIONS / BELIEFS / SUPERSTITIONS :

idk if its just me and my family but we are SUPER superstitious . if you say anything like ‘ he hasnt gotten sick in years !’ immediately , everyone knocks on wood or their head . if you were planning on leaving the house and sneeze ? thats bad luck , stand and wait for five minutes then u can leave . we have a strong belief in drishti , or alternatively : The Evil Eye , and making sure we don’t invite it into our lives . a lot of our prayers are about warding drishti away .

the evil eye is kinda Complicated but basically its an ill-wishing upon an unsuspecting person . if somebody is jealous of you or angered by you , they may wish upon you or cast upon you the Evil eye ( or even just glare at u whilst ur not looking and thats Big Bad ) .

a lot of older indians , like older people in general i guess , are not super progressive or Open . this isnt ALWAYS the case but older indians can be very very stubborn in their beliefs in what is Right and Wrong , Normal and Not Normal

theres a LOT of hindu indian festivals and events ! tbh too many for me to even keep up with . but without fail at least once a year ill say to ONE of my friends ‘ oh sorry i cant make it . i have an indian Thing on that day ‘ and its usually about a festival , so pls be aware that there are a LOT of indian festivals and if ur writing an indian character , its perfectly understandable and Relatable for them to say they can’t make it to a party or hang out with their friends that night , for that very reason !

the main / most popular ( ? ) festivities that i personally do celebrate every year without fail are :

diwali ( the festival of lights , celebrating goddess lakshmi roaming the earth . in my household this is usually turning on literally every single light and lighting candles and fireworks / sparklers and saying some prayers , and eating a formal dinner all together ! )

holi ( the festival of colours . celebrating victory and love . again personally for me , this was usually celebrated at the temple with all of us Kids running around throwing paint on each other ! )

rakhi / raksha bandhan ( a day of sisters celebrating their brothers . you tie a rakhi which is usually a bracelet / holy string around your brothers wrist , feed them some food , pray for their wellbeing and in return they gift you something . in my case, i usually get money from them ) .

navratri / durga puja ( 9 nights and 10 days of celebrations but tbh u don’t have to do all the days . or i mean . . i don’t . i fast one day from morning to night and then i slide on over to boogie and dance dandiya which is literally the MOST FUN dance ever bc its based off some Historical Fight and u go faster and faster and keep going until ur absolutely SPENT bc u dont wanna lose ur place in the circle )

there are SO MANY HINDU INDIAN GODS too . and so many prayers to all of them and to just general Life Wellness . chances are that ur character will know at least ONE aarti / gazal / prayer off by heart and have sung it at least 30 times in a monotone voice . the ones i know off by heart bc ive had to sing them 3000 times ? om jai jagdish hare , & the gayatri mantra

GENERAL LIL THINGS I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO CATEGORISE ( tw’s for skin whitening , colorism and classism ) :

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT NEEDS A TW FOR SKIN WHITENING AND COLORISM ) lets hold indians accountable right now : we advertise SKIN LIGHTENING CREAM . i think they finally stopped that earlier this year / due to BLM ( i’m not entirely sure / could be wrong ) , but thats literally how bad it is , that we would openly advertise and encourage people to literally bleach their skin rather than look darker .

( THIS IS THE POINT THAT NEEDS A TW FOR COLORISM AND CLASSISM ) colorism is a BIG thing in india and usually linked to class . generally speaking , the people who are Darker Skinned are usually people who work outside / labourers or homeless even , and are therefore seen as lower class / bottom class . the lighter skin you have , the more privileged and advantaged you are bc ur seen as working a Good job out of the sun and having a home . it’s incredibly classist as well as just generally Fucked Up . why am i telling u this ? mainly so u understand the importance of using a dark skinned indian fc vs a light skinned indian fc which i know is hard , bc a lot of darker skinned indians arent in hollywood / have resources , but its still something to Think About .

i have a long Ethnic name . literally my first name is 10+ letters , which i know doesnt seem that long Necessarily but its also a Super Ethnic name with e’s and and j and n . it Flows and Sounds very clearly different from a christian name . it is VERY important to me that my name be said Correctly because i’ve spent so much time having it said incorrectly or Westernised . i also know a lot of indians my age who ( like me ) have had to dramatically shorten their REAL first name ( which is usually also pretty long . not always , but it is Common ) , to fit their name into white people’s mouths better . please put some thought into ur indian characters name !

not all indians speak hindi ! hindi is one of MANY dialects within india . there is also tamil , urdu , bengali , punjabi , telugu and SO many more , so pls research which part of india ur character / their family is from bc hindi won’t always be the default language for them !

not every indian is hindu ! of course ur character doesnt have to be religious at all , bc if im being honest IM barely religious but my FAMILY is and this is smth u should think abt bc religion is a pretty big thing for indians . so even if ur character isnt hindu , they were probably raised with SOME religious beliefs . have a think about which religions they would have been brought up with ! there’s a very large percentage of practicing muslims , sikhs and buddhists too ! and even christianity !

WRITING WISE / CREATING AN INDIAN CHARACTER WISE :

the first step should be to consume indian media ! listen to indian music . watch bollywood movies ! theres SO MANY out there on everyone’s netflix . if u want some recs , let me know and i can try my best to find smth for u ! if u want smth thats Hollywood-indian . . . Hasan Minhaj is great to watch , especially his episodes on indian culture / politics , and Never Have I Ever on netflix was rlly good / relatable for me personally as an indian growing up in a western society !

i would really really love to see more indian rep in general , but i’d also like to discuss the Stereotypes that ive seen indians portrayed as in mainstream hollywood media :

indian women as soft spoken and subservient beings who are abused by their husbands and have no say in anything

heterosexuality within indian relationships and indian dating

indian men as sleazy

indians in general not being seen as Sexy or Sexual beings with any sex drive at all

Stumbling , Stuttering , Nerdy awkward messes of men who don’t know how to interact with anybody they find sexually appealing

an indian character that everybody ( usually white ) finds Uncomfortable and Weird and is seen as usually the Butt of the joke .

i think those mentioned above could be helpful in how to plan your next indian character and think about how to SUBVERT a trope theyre often portrayed as , or create an indian thats not stereotypical !

so what and who SHOULD you write ?

an indian character who is proudly and openly gay , or bi

a trans or nonbinary indian ( PLEASE ! )

an indian character with really super accepting parents and family

an aromantic indian

an indian who is focused on their career first and not their dating life

a fuckboy / fuckgirl ( honestly . . i’d love to see it )

a indian character who is a party animal

an outspoken indian female who takes no shit and is strong in every sense of the word

a confident , smooth talking indian businessman who is Sexy and Lusted After ( not in a gross christian grey way but just . i’d love to see indian characters seen as Sexy . not in a fetishy way , either , but just because it’d be a nice change in pace ! )

a character who IS traditional / religious but also very progressive and forward thinking in their beliefs

honestly just any character that isnt whats mentioned above

#guide #writing help #rph #rpc #islamaphobia tw #colorism tw #classism tw #idk if this is any good and i was very uncomfortable putting in the part abt how a lot of older indians feel abt muslims #but i mean . . lets just call it the fuck out bc its Gross Behaviour so lets call it out and work to change it #anyways every trigger is tagged super clearly in every point that talks abt it #i kept those parts Brief and as Direct and Honest as possible #pls let me know if u need me to tag anything #and lastly . . . pls write indian characters !!!!

204 notes · View notes