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madamtrashbat · 3 years

Text

A couple of thoughts

We doin' okay, Cats family? We're good? Good. I have one last thing to add.

This is kinda about pro- and anti-shippers, but it's really more about fandom culture in general and just my experiences. You can read it, if you want, or not.

Up to you.

I've been doin' this for a while. A good fifteen years at least, closer probably to sixteen. I've been doing things in fandom for longer than some of my mutuals have been alive.

(Oh Jesus)

And there's something I gotta tell you guys, both as a person who has been doing fandom-y stuff for years and for someone who literally has college degrees in English Literature and Creative Writing.

Being an anti is not normal.

And I know that comes across as harsh and mean and it sounds unreasonable but I'd like to explain what I mean by that.

I can trace back being an anti to two main sources: Voltron and Star Wars. I was never into Voltron or really even around anyone who was but I remember the screaming and fighting over the ships, and I remember the hellish crusade that began when people dared to ship Rey and Kylo Ren together. It was nasty, guys. It was absolutely insane that suddenly people were doing this over fictional ships, that people were being sent actual abuse and hatred because someone wanted the broody shitlord man and the unwashed desert scrounger to smooch. Like... imagine that in real time.

I was not, nor have I ever been, a Reylo shipper, but you know what I did, when that ship began, and I didn't like it? I ignored it and went about my day. Because that's how I was taught. Nothing in the fiction world was worth fighting over. It was not worth getting into arguments over. What was the point?

Then the antis got bolder, started branching out, and when people like me started standing up and saying, "Hey, stop being a dick to people!" someone hired the world's best PR machine and suddenly people who were not antis were pedophiles and abusive and incestuous.

How's that for some whiplash.

This anti movement of berating, bullying, harming, and threatening has been their MO, and it's dangerous. And now, they all buy their own bullshit. They actually think people like me are all out here twisting our mustaches like Snidely Whiplash and diddling kids. Without a shred of irony, they believe this.

Proship only labeled itself that as a response to the antiship, and antiship, make no mistake, named itself first. It was not anti-pedophile. It was not anti-incest. It was not anti-abuse.

It was all about disliking fictional ships that other people enjoyed, and thus attacking people over it.

And it's pointless. It's driven a child to suicide. It has gotten people fired. It has ruined careers, livelihoods, friendships. For nothing. For a boogeyman that doesn't exist.

Sex experts across the board all agree that what gives us our jollies is not at all what we want in real life. There's some wild statistic like 70% of women have had a sexual fantasy about rape at least once in their lives. About rape! That act that most AFAB people have a deep ingrained fear of! And we've used it to get off! Because sexual fantasy isn't that deep. Our brains are idiots. And since time immemorial, we as humans have written just the most fucked up shit.

It's even in the Bible. Humans have been nasty forever. And it doesn't mean shit.

It's in the TV shows. It's in our movies. It's in our books. It's in our music, our podcasts, everything. Being an anti is not the way of humanity at all. Ever. Except for like... maybe the puritans but they sucked so who cares about them.

Antis believe a lie. They believe a lie and they hurt people for it. I am not in any way, shape, or form exaggerating when I say I am fearful for those who regularly interact with me, because I am worried that one day the art they make or the "clout" they carry isn't going to be enough to save them from their friendship with me and antis will tear them to shreds. Because that is how they behave. They may not think they're bullies, and they may think they're in the right, but I want you to look up the Youtube RPF kid who killed themselves over anti harassment. Look at that horrible ask I just got. This is how they behave.

And that is what proshippers stand against. It's a stance against bullying, harassment, threats. That is it. There are plenty of proshippers out in the world that would never, ever think of writing anything involving someone underage, or between relatives, or involving anything gruesome. Because that's not what it's about.

Antis are new in the world of fandom, and they are the absolute root of toxicity. I do not exaggerate. They waste the time of agencies actually trying to eradicate CSAM by sending them art someone drew of a teenage character that isn't real. They've driven people to suicide. They've outright admitted to not caring about actual humans as much as they care about fictional ships. They have shown time and time again that they are not above abuse, vitriol, and bullying. There are blogs that post stories from ex-antis who say they were afraid to say anything different than their anti friends for fear of righteous backlash.

I repeat: I am legitimately afraid that my friends are going to get dogpiled and harassed because they dare to be my friend. That fear is not baseless. And it's all because of the way antis act.

I am liberal with the block button. I try to maintain boundaries because I don't want to see any of that shit as much as they don't want to see any of mine (though only a very scant few actually block me back, which is a joke in and of itself). But it still slips through. And I hate it, every time I see it.

Because this is not the way we're supposed to be. We are not supposed to be at odds with each other. We are supposed to share and have fun and be joyful about some people in lycra.

But because some people wanted to put on the pilgrim hat and play Morality Council to someone who's been doing this for years, I gotta tiptoe around people that think I'm actually out in the world diddling children. Do you know how fucked up that is. Do you know how that feels? To not only have someone make that judgment without any evidence, but to tell it to other people who don't know me either?

When someone finally snaps and starts biting back, it's not out of nowhere. And antis never, ever see themselves as doing something wrong. But they are. They are wrong.

Can I let you in on a little secret?

Seriously, just between you and me, come here.

If you think it's wrong to bully someone because of fiction, then you're proship. That is the long and short of it. No more or less. I hate to break it to you, but that is the only definition, and anyone who says it's something else is lying to you for their own gain.

And sure, there are lots of people who try to hide behind the proship label as they do shitty things. But antis do the same. Humans being assholes and trying to blame it on something else is not new.

The fact that people have come to me and told me that the antis have made them feel uncomfortable, that they're afraid if they do something they might view as negative they might receive hate, that people are actually AFRAID of people in this fandom, is not okay.

There was a fandom I was involved in where one of the prominent people actively hated me and I was never afraid of what she would do. I am afraid of the antis in this fandom, though. Because they have teeth and they like to use them.

Fandom isn't supposed to be like this. Nobody should be screaming at teenagers for talking to adults in fandom, infantilizing them like they're not a whole autonomous human. Nobody should be telling someone to kill themselves because they ship Tuggerstrap. Nobody should be afraid of the other people in their fandom.

Antis, if any of them even read this (I doubt it, but just in case), I want you to look around. The people who are neutral are not afraid of what the proshippers will say to them. They are afraid of you. You and your ilk are the ones causing the damage, and you are the outliers in the entire world of fiction. You're a loud minority that thinks it knows better when it knows absolutely nothing.

Ruminate on that.

My blog is still a safe space from bullying, abuse, and nastiness. If someone is being mean to you, you will always find a friend here. And if you can't say the same, then what's wrong with you?

Be excellent to each other. Stop making people afraid.

And sit down and ask yourself what it is you really want when you make vague posts about people and tell people vicious, awful things. What are you hoping to gain.

#long post #important

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transmalewife · 2 years

Note

I don’t want to bother you if you don’t want to do another SW meta, but if you don’t mind another TCW question: What did you think of Satine as a character? What about her relationship to Obi-Wan, and how it affects his character?

No bother at all, I had a few train rides to fill and I can't seem to make myself write any of my sw thoughts down these days but these asks are drawing them out of me so feel free to keep sending them in, though i can’t promise timely responses.

In short, I'm pretty ambivalent about her. She's nowhere near my favorite character, but I do think she's one of the most solid and important additions to canon tcw made. Maybe that's why I don't think that much about her, she fits the story, she's, even within the narrative, an echo of the past, and she doesn't infuriate me like some characters do, so she sort of just slides off my brain.

I don't ship her with Obi-Wan in the time tcw takes place, so i'm glad thats not what you asked. I am however a hopeless romantic so i do have a soft spot for the idea of a first love coming back into your life. They still love each other, because they learned what love even is together. They also hate each other because first loves never end well. They have more history than they know what to do with, they know exactly how far they can push each other, and will cross the line maliciously, just to get a rise out of the other, to get attention. They both behave like children in the first episodes she's in and i love that so much. It humanises Obi-Wan, and I love how a lot of stuff outside the movies is dedicated to exploring his own attachments and the ways he (doesn't) deal with it, which nicely foreshadows both his own attachment to Anakin letting him ignore all the warning signs, and also how he „taught” anakin to „deal” with it. Speaking of which.

That fucking conversation. That conversation in which obi-wan actually gives anakin an out, tries to get him to open up about padme, even showing vulnerability by admiting to loving satine which honestly for this man is like actual torture, and anakin goes full on parks and rec i have never had sex with anyone, anywhere, she's terrible, face wise monologue, goes shut up she's my friend. In an entirely normal and totally not suspicious way, and obi-wan goes alrighty then that's my parenting done for the week, back to my favorite place: denial. That fucking conversation is the best and worst thing to come out of clone wars. Because it makes everything so much more tragic if anakin had a chance to come clean, if obi-wan knew all along, but kept quiet to protect them. it makes them both so much more culpable, anakin for not talking and obi wan for not pushing. But of course this is clone wars so its done in the stupidest way ever.

But yeah it makes sense he wouldn't snitch on anakin when he'd just seen satine again, and was reminded of his own attachments. So I do appreciate the depth Satine adds to Obi-Wan’s character. Do you see the problem here, though? She is more interesting as a character arc for Obi-Wan than a character in her own right. Not only, there is a lot of interesting things about her story, just mostly. Because outside of Obi-Wan she kinda doesn’t stand for much. Like ok, for example her brand of pacifism is hypocritical and idealistic, and you could read that as an analogy and critique to the jedi’s values. But the story doesn’t bother to pause and point that out when shes calling for help and in the background her royal guard is shooting people to protect her. No, the irony only matters when Obi-Wan freezes up before killing a guy to save her, and i like how it reads less like noble warrior monk reminded of his vows and more like middle aged man ashamed of looking bad in front of his ex, because he doesn’t usually have any problems with this kind of self defense violence.

Women in star wars in general is a really interesting topic, and I do wanna write some meta about all five of them at some point. One thing you have to give them is the female characters, while few, are always extremely well rounded, and more importantly in this case, varied. No two women in star wars are the same, and none of the important ones are sexy lamps (although most of the ones in the background are), which is still tragically rare in the genre. And Satine is absolutely no exception. She is undeniably her own character, with a complete personality, a complex backstory and understandable motivations. It’s just a bit of a shame that this only ever seems to matter as a plot point in Obi-Wan’s story, but that’s something star wars loves doing with its complex and interesting female characters: torturing and killing them to further the tragedy of male characters.

And the thing about satine in particular is, Ok so remember how in that last one i said season 6 went off the rails when it started just regurgitating and reminding the audience of plot points from rots without really thinking through the consequences of idk the council knowing about the chips and the fact dooku put them there and not doing anything about it anyway? I think homage, references etc can be really fun when used well, but they only work as additions to a well plotted story, you can't start with the references and try to build a plot out of them. So whenever I think of Satine I do feel like someone is nudging me and going hey d'you get it? Her name is satine, Its like moulin rouge, she died in his arms there so that's what we're gonna do here. And I have to actively stop myself from rolling my eyes. I mean idk if that was ever officially confirmed as inspiration but come on. Anyway, because of that Satine becomes the opposite of most of tcw, an actually compelling character built on top of a profoundly stupid premise.

But, I’m not gonna say like, every female character that’s a part of a man’s tragic past is useless and sexist. Star wars does overuse that trope, and it especially feels weird paired with how satine does feel pulled out of someone’s ass the day before the script was due (by someone very good at bullshitting essays for great grades, sure, I say this as someone who has dabbled in this art as well, but that faint trace of wallpapering over holes in your reasoning is there.) but, there is an already established at the time female character I would have loved to see furthering obi-wan’s pain in tcw: Siri tachi. I need to finally read some of the books with her, bc the little i know is from legends wookiepedia articles, but she would have been the perfect character to explore the order’s fucked up views on attachment. I get that the jedi/politician parallel between anidala and obitine was important, but it does get repetitive after a while when the narrative keeps putting other jedi in very similar situations as anakin and going ‘see? This is what a well adjusted person would have done. Murder is bad!’ like. Yeah we know murder is bad. Maybe let’s explore why Anakin did so much of it anyway. slavery, right? Oh ok cool the council sent him on a mission to save a hutt’s baby, even though he was owned by a hutt when he was a fucking baby. Oh this time he has to pretend to be a slaver and sell his own padawan. Cool.

And I have mixed feelings of tcw’s treatment of the attachment thing, bc at times it seems to be more consciously and in its trademark very obvious way exploring how yeah maybe ‘love is bad’ is not gonna make for stable people (I KNOW i’m oversimplifying it’s 1 am leave me alone), but at times it does seem to lean hard into look anakin is bad because he’s in love. Here’s obi wan also in love but he’s normal about it like a good jedi. And i think siri in tcw would have been a great way to specifically explore the issues with the code’s rules on attachment, and not just the conflict of interest of a neutral detached knight in secret forbidden love with a planetary ruler, but without all the murder, see anakin, this is how you should deal with it. This is totally fine.

Anyway i’m gonna leave you with the last line of siri’s canon wookiepedia article that i think about every time i see someone saying there was nothing wrong with the code. I actually recommend the whole article it’s just one paragraph but very… poignant

“Kenobi then said that he only had to think about touching hands with Tachi at the Temple to think that he had deserved punishment from the Jedi Council.”

#star wars meta #star wars #satine kryze #mine.#ask #anon

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galacticwildfire · 3 years

Text

found.

Six.

Pairing: Kenobi!oc x Din Djarin

Summary: Satine and Obi-wan’s daughter fought in the war against the Empire and lost her faith when she lost Mandalore. Until she found him. A lone Mandalorian searching for a Jedi.

Warnings/tags: graphic descriptions of genocide including war, murder of children and assault of women. mentions of war crimes. mentions of killing prisoners and unlawful execution, very realistic depiction of wartime atrocities. ptsd. On a less serious note some fluff, emotional moments and repressed emotions. bonding. baby yoda being a cheeky little bugger. shameless exploitation of the oh no its cold let’s share body heat trope.

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: a more serious chapter, may be a bit distressing for some due to the topics in the warnings. I should say I’m a daughter of a former soldier and some things here are based on conversations with my father on how soldiers view the topic of war crimes and are not my personal views and as someone who has studied quite a bit of international law and plans to continue studying it I’ve always found the complexities of war as portrayed in star wars to be something quite interesting especially after mayfields character arc which is what;s explored here. It’s only a small part of the chapter but it will come into play later on in the story with Moff Gideon. It’s not all serious I promise and there is quite a bit of bonding between her and Din in this chapter.

The fact Mando is so reluctant to not use hyperdrive should worry me a little more than it does, despite him telling me it's because of the Empire and crime gangs there's some things I'm sure he's neglecting to add.

"Are you sure the Empire and criminals are the only thing we have to worry about?" I ask as we finish loading the ship.

"What else would there be to worry about?" he asks but I cock my head at him. "There's only pirates, war lords-"

I place a firm hand on his chest as I pass him, stopping to tell him "First thing to know about the Jedi, don't try to lie to one, or to a woman for that matter."

With a coy little smile I leave him there to pick up the child who reaches for me, for a moment pondering my last words and wondering if he's had many women on board this ship. My gut tells me no but from the look of him I wouldn't be surprised, despite being Mandalorian myself I can hardly say I haven't been tempted by a man in beskar before. Except I remember how that ended far too well.

"And second thing," I tell the child as I lift him up and look him in his big black eyes. "We don't choke people. Got it?" He coos guiltily and I whisper "Unless you really have to."

He likes the sound of that more and Mando chuckles. "Now that I approve of."

"I'd be concerned, well more concerned, about that little violent streak if he hadn't been raised by a Mandalorian for so long."

"And you?" he asks tilting his head at me, focusing on the saber at my hip. "You can't deny having a violent streak after you held your laser sword at Vanth."

"It's a lightsaber and oh I don't deny it," I say proudly knowing that while the Jedi are supposed to be guardians of peace that is far from the reality. "But if possible I resort to more persuasive methods than outright violence. They often called me the negotiator for my penchant to use mind tricks where possible."

"And what you did to the bandit?" he asks, his voice wavering slightly. "What was that?"

"A Jedi mind trick," I answer honestly as the child looks up at me in recognition of the word. "My father certainly taught me how to handle myself in combat but also how to avoid confrontation."

He sounds a little unnerved. "So mind control?"

"Not quite," I try to explain. "For example, it only works on the weak minded, so you hopefully don't have anything to worry about."

He nods seeming a little more at ease then asks "And the child, could you use it on him?"

"Considering how strong he is with the force I doubt it," I answer, surprised by the question. "Why?"

"So you could actually make him behave."

The kid makes an offended sound and I just laugh. "Unfortunately there's no special Jedi trick to make a child behave, trust me I've tried."

He sounds genuinely disappointed. "Really?"

"My nephew Ben is strong with the force like this child. He's a menace like his father so trust me when I say his mother had asked me the same thing once," I chuckle fondly. "Nothing teaches you patience like a child, or rather forces it upon you."

"You aren't wrong," he says walking over and letting the child wrap his little hand around his finger. "We should get going."

I look up towards the stairs to the cockpit and sigh. "I have a bad feeling about this, travelling sublight never ends well."

He scoffs. "And you're the one telling me I'm worrying."

"Warlords and Imperials are my speciality," I say knowing I've seen far too much combat to fear a group of pirates. Something else doesn't feel quite right and I know well enough to suspect trouble by now. "I'm far from worried about them, but the galaxy has become a strange place these past years. Almost like it's in limbo between being under the rule of the Empire and the Republic."

"The Republic doesn't even feel real," he confesses to me. "Not this far out in the outer rims."

"It's a lawless place," I say finding that common ground, a common understanding between us.

I haven't dared mention my Mandalorian heritage since I found them in the desert, the closest recognition of it coming as we left my home.

This is the way.

I realised that what divides us may just be the common ground in which we find respect for one another, understanding.

And the very thing that brings us together I hold in my arms. The child.

"I'll have to test the extent of his powers before we bring him to Ahsoka," I tell Mando who dotes on his son. "For now he should rest, he is just a child after all, and after we take the lady to her destination I'll see what he's capable of."

It's hard to believe that such an innocent child is capable of such power. But then again I see it every time I look at Ben.

And I know that just as he is Luke's responsibility, this child is mine.

"He's a special kid," Mando says, seeing the child as just a child, not a powerful creature. The love in his voice can't be hidden as much as he may try.

"He is," I say offering a small smile and glancing at the eggs remembering we have a deadline. "We should get going."

With the child put to bed we find our way into the cockpit, it's small but I doubt he's ever needed anything bigger as a lone traveller. Until now.

There's still much about this arrangement that needs to be discussed but that can be done once it's just the two of us and the child, when we have some idea of where we are going.

"Now, I'm going to ask you to stay strapped in whenever you're seated," Mando begins and I look across to the Frog Lady hoping she can understand what he's saying, clearly from the contempt in his voice at being a taxi service he's just hoping she can as well. "Travelling sublight is a bit dicey these days. Whether it's pirates or warlords, someone either ends up with a nice chunk of change or your ship."

She speaks back to him in her own language, he looks to me to see if I have any idea what she's saying but I just offer a shrug in return.

"I don't speak whatever language that is. You speak Huttese?" He tries uncertainly speaking Huttese and while it's nice he's trying I can't help but be amused as he lets out a sigh of resignation and gives up.

It's then I feel the Child's presence and from the mischief that accompanies it he's certainly not asleep.

"I'm gonna hit the rack," Mando says turning his chair around. "I've set the nav for our course, it's gonna take a while. I recommend you get some rest."

The lady settles back in her chair and he heads towards the door but stops to ask me "You need anything?"

"No thank you, but I'll keep an eye out for any trouble," I tell him which seems to make some tension disappear from his shoulders. "But you might want to check on your kid, he's up to no good."

For a moment he seems confused before very quickly going below deck and not long after there's some muffled sounds of panic from there and I can't help but laugh.

I look out at the galaxy, somehow never tiring of the sight. The last time I found myself doing this in the cockpit of a strangers ship it was in the Falcon after they rescued Leia and I. Little did I know then that the people in that ship would become my family, that the ship would become a new home.

I can't help but feel the same feeling, the deep knowing I felt all those years ago.

Alarms wake me from the first relatively peaceful sleep I've had in days.

"Shit!" I jolt, jumping upright but finding no threats, just a ship trying to make contact through the coms. Only moments later Mando runs in. "It's fine, no danger."

"Razor Crest, M-One-Eleven. Come in Razor Crest. Do you copy?"

I ease back into my seat at the voice of the Republic officer but slowly sit back upright when Mando fails to relax.

"This is Razor Crest, is there a problem?"

The panic in his voice is mostly masked by the modulator but not enough.

"We noticed your transponder's not emitting."

"Yes I'm pre-Empire surplus, I'm not required to run a beacon," he stammers slightly and I realise just what he was really worried about. What all lone wanderers are worried about.

The law.

"That was before, this sector is under New Republic jurisdiction." He looks at me as if asking if I knew and I just raise my hands in my defence, genuinely having had no idea what they do. "All craft are required to run a beacon."

"Thank you for letting me know, I'll get right on it."

"Not a problem safe travels."

"May the force be with you," he says taking me by surprise, shocked he even knows the saying when he knows so little of the Jedi but it's become a common greeting since the war.

"And also with you." Just as he starts to ease back the officers voice comes through the coms again. "One more thing."

Even I can't help but roll my eyes and Mando lets out a very exasperated "Yes."

"I'm gonna need you to send us a ping, we're out here sweeping for Imperial hold outs."

I can feel the panic hit him. "I'll let you know if I see any."

"I'm still gonna need you to send us that ping."

Frustrated and knowing that Mando definitely does not want to get involved with the Republic I stand up and butt my way in. "Hi, this is General Kenobi."

"General?" The officer stammers. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware-"

"Don't worry, my friend here's just having a bit of trouble getting that ping working for you," I say leaning over Mando to speak into the com. "As far as I'm aware they aren't any Imperial holdouts in this sector so you don't have to worry."

"I'm sorry General but protocol is protocol and we need that ping."

I let out a strained laugh. "Come on guys, it's been a long few days don't make me follow you to an outpost. What did you say your name was?"

"Captain Carson Teva."

"Carson," I say in relief actually knowing the officer and Mando shifts uncertainly in his seat as he looks at the ships on either side of us. "We've known each other since I joined the rebellion, you know I'm not an Imperial. I'm just hitching a ride with an old friend to keep off the radars, unofficial Republic business."

"That may be so General, but the Republic's also cracking down on crafts off the radar," he says and I curse silently. "It's painful but I'm sure you can understand, even Captain Solo's gotten into trouble with his ship. It's just protocol."

I laugh again trying to throw him off, to talk my way out of this. "Well that's Han for you. Always getting into trouble. Have you seen his son? I swear he looks just like him, well aside from the black hair and the rest. Both menaces I can tell you that much."

"I can imagine," he chuckles. "I'm surprised that ship of his hadn't been taken to some junk yard on Jakku years ago."

It's then the other pilot comes through on the line. "General Kenobi, I'm sorry but uh-are you aware that there is a warrant for your arrest?"

Mando looks at me and I stare at the coms completely stunned, the words falling from deaf ears into space.

"What?" I exclaim and shake my head like it's some sick joke while Mando continue to stare at me in equal confusion. "For what?"

"Trapper come on, we both know that warrants a farce," Carson says to the other pilot while my eyes dart between their ships.

"General, you are being called before the New Republic to be investigated and potentially tried for several crimes in violation of the Galactic Concordance."

"What?" I repeat and laugh in utter disbelief but the silence confirms it's real and Mando's watching me carefully. "I helped write the blasted Concordance and forced that Imperial bastard to sign it. How could I be in violation of it?"

And so they read it out for me. "Your actions in relation to the case of Moff Gideon have been deemed extreme and unnecessary for which you are being subjected criminal investigation for war crimes."

"War crimes!" I exclaim while Mando begins subtly working at the controls knowing this is going south. "Who the hell in the Republic would press charges against me for war crimes after that bastard destroyed my planet!"

"An ex-imperial working for the senate has pressed the charges, claiming you unlawfully imprisoned and executed two pardoned Imperial Commanders which is in violation of the Galactic Concordance," Carson tells me and my stomach sinks knowing I indeed did do that. "We have orders to bring you to Chandrila. If you meet us at the outpost there will be no trouble."

"I am a General, your commanding officer, please," I plead with them as Mando stares at me in shock. "We go out separate ways and I hand myself over to the authorities on my terms."

"General, this is nothing personal," Carson says sadly. "The Republic for some time now has recognised you as an individual acting independently of their orders. The rank of General has become honourary and I'm afraid we need to bring you in. Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

The words are a hard blow, even from a man who respects me, especially from a man who respects me. The rank I fought for and sacrificed so much for, honourary.

So that's how the Republic sees me, just another retired war hero, a renegade. Now little more than a war criminal.

Mando looks at me with a question, his hands on the controls ready to go. "Carson, please, let me go and I will hand myself over."

The other pilot chimes in and I look at Mando in confusion. "Was this craft in the proximity of New Republic correctional transport Bothan-Five?"

It's then without warning or hesitation he takes off.

I jolt forward, my hand slamming against the window of the cockpit as we hurl towards the atmosphere of the nearest planet.

"Hold on."

"Thanks for the warning."

With that I fall back into my seat and the Frog Lady by now is wide awake and more than mildly concerned.

"Razor Crest, General Kenobi stand down! We don't want to fire but we will."

"No you won't!" I yell as Mando dives into the atmosphere, swerving to lose them. "Carson! I order you to stand down!"

"I don't want to do this General, stand down and we won't tell the Republic you resisted arrest. You know they won't convict you of anything if it's coming from an Imperial, especially one who they know covered up Moff Gideons escape."

The Frog Lady's screaming and I try to ignore her as I begin panicking, shocked that after all this time they've opened an investigation into my search for Moff Gideon. Into what I did for justice. The only time in my life I almost slipped into the darkness.

"Just stand down and let us go!" I order again knowing it's in vain as Mando tries to lose them but I know they won't. "Please, I have a child on board this ship that cannot fall into Imperial hands!"

"General, land the ship and we will do whatever we can to help you."

Then he dives into a canyon and I'm holding onto whatever I can for dear life. "Mando, you're going to get us killed!"

"I said hold on!"

"No, not when what you're doing is suicide!" I yell as I grab onto his chair and pull myself forward and slam my hand on the com. "I said stand down or you're going to have four bodies on your hands!"

"General-"

Mando swerves again, narrowly missing an ice wall and I practically fall onto him, cursing as my arm collides with hard beskar and grit I between my teeth. "Stop the blasted ship and I'll take care of this!"

"Because you're doing such a great job."

"I was before you took off!" He grabs my arm to keep me upright as he swerves again. "How considerate of you. Now will you stop so I can get us out of this mess!"

His grip is tight on my arm and his voice guttural. "They might let you go for whatever you did with a slap on the wrist but not me."

"You're a Mandalorian, I'll take care of it," I swear to him but we both know we've gone too far to turn back and expect a clean slate.

"General!" Trapper warns through the coms as he fires a warning shot. "This is your last-"

"Hold your fire you're not helping here!" I snap at the officer as I try to pull my arm free from Mando''s iron grip. "Stop the bloody ship and I'll get us out of this!"

Then he dives one last time and we come to a screeching halt, the ships going past and it's dead quiet.

Mando releases his grip on my arm as he looks at me and lets out a breath of relief. "We lost them."

However that relief short lived as moments later a crack causes us to still and the last thing I'm aware of is Mando grabbing me by the waist as we plummet through the ice.

I wake on the floor of the cockpit with my head resting against Mando's leg and curse under my breath as I look about at the state of the shi[. Not good, definitely not good.

My eyes travel up Mando's body and find him hunched over and unconscious face down in the controls.

Groaning I use him as leverage to pull myself to my feet and shake him anxiously. "Mando?"

Thankfully he stirs and then jolts upright as he realises what's happened. His head turns towards me and checks me over before we both look back at the frog lady who's unconscious in her seat.

"Please don't be dead," I say stumbling over and sitting her upright, thankfully she wakes as well but full of panic. "Don't worry, I'm sure your eggs are fine."

I feel a hand on my shoulder and hear his voice, deep and shaken. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," I say then panic hits me. "The kid."

Both of us bolt from the cockpit and down the ladder to the deck below.

"Dank farrik!" I hear him curse as he looks around at the wreckage and I open the sleeping compartment to find the kid gone.

"He's not here."

He immediately runs through the wreckage, searching for the child while I reach out through the force.

"He's alright," I promise him. "He's here somewhere. He's alright."

It's then Mando pulls back a cover and for a moment we're both stunned to find the child who could have just been killed eating the Frog Lady's eggs.

"No!" Mando scolds like if this isn't the first time and picks him up. "I told you not to do that."

The child looks unashamed and I realise that the child who decides right after a crash that it's time for a snack is my padawan.

I already know I'll be calling on my father for strength and sanity.

The Frog Lady calls out from above as Mando surveys the remains of the child's dinner.

"Found them," I call out to her and we look to see the child shamelessly gobble another one up. "How many did you eat?"

He burps and I'm beginning to realise that his powers aren't what I need to worry about but the fact he is a literal child.

A child I'll have to raise.

I'll have to get some advice from Leia, not just Ahsoka.

That is if we can figure out a way to get out of this hole.

"You get the lady down here, I'll watch the kid," I say to Mando and he nods as he goes back to the cockpit.

I kneel down in front of the kid and shake my head. "Why do I get the feeling you're going to be the death of me?"

He coos and I pick him up, feeling how cold he is.

"Mando?" I call as he starts coming back down the ladder. "Do you have any blankets?"

"Yeah, just hold on," he says going to the sleeping compartment while the Lady climbs down and runs to her eggs. I give the child a pointed look but it definitely doesn't do anything to get rid of the cheeky look in his eye. "Here."

Mando comes over, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders which I use to cover the kid and he checks us both again.

"You sure you're okay? You weren't strapped in."

"I'm alright," I promise him as the child snuggles into the blanket. "You grabbed me, kept from going through the windshield."

"Well, I can't let the only Jedi I've been able to find die on my watch," he comments putting on that tough business over facade.

"Alright tough guy," I reply as he pulls the blanket tighter around my shoulders and makes sure it's tucked around the child as well. "But thank you."

He lets go to attend to the lady and her eggs and I look at the child in my arms and sigh knowing this isn't good.

We sit wrapped in blankets contemplating what the hell we do now.

"If you hadn't guessed we're in a tight spot," he says to the frog lady who we've decided to assume can understand us. "The main power drive is not responding and the hull has lost its integrity. I suspect the temperature will drop significantly when night falls."

"It will," I confirm. "I once spent a few months on a base on Hoth, a planet like this one. During the day it was bearable but if someone didn't make it back before nightfall let's just say they usually didn't make it back alive. Even on the base itself people almost died of hypothermia."

I remember Han and I finding Luke half dead in the snow after the Wampa. Having to dig Shara and Kes out of a collapsed tunnel during the bases construction. Countless cases where the cold was a greater enemy than the Empire. I couldn't say I was overly devastated when we had to find a new base.

"Any suggestions?" he asks knowing just how dangerous this situation is, he's a realistic man.

"We don't know what's down here, there could be anything. On Hoth there were Wampa's, the type of horrid creatures you're told stories about as a kid," I say and the child whines a little. "I doubt they'd be here but the point is we don't know what's outside this ship and once night falls chances are they'll want to see what's crashed into their cave. We should take a look around and clear the area, fortify this as best we can and then in the morning find a way to get the hell out of here."

He nods. "Alright then, we'll take a look around." He looks at the lady and the kid. "You should get some rest, we won't be long. And you kid, behave, you know what I mean."

I remove the blanket from my shoulders and wrap the kid up tight in it, not just to keep it warm but still and warn. "Don't you even think about it."

Making sure the kid doesn't get any ideas we venture out of the hole in the ship and stand there for a moment taking in the damage.

"What do you think the odds are of getting this thing back in the air?"

"Not good," he answers. "But we'll figure it out."

"Do the coms still work?"

"No idea," he answers. "And if they did the signal wouldn't reach very far." I look away and he sighs heavily. "If you're thinking about trying to reach those pilots-"

"It might be the only choice we have," I say stiffly as we begin to survey the area. "I don't want to any more than you do but would you rather die here?"

He doesn't answer and I realise I probably don't want the answer to that question.

So I ask another.

"How many years are you looking at if the Republic gets you?"

"How many for breaking into and shooting up a Republic prison?"

While it takes me by surprise it could be worse. Even so I can imagine the sentence.

"Depends," I say drawing on those years of studying law as a teenager in preparation for a role I'd never fill. "Why'd you do it?"

The question rubs him the wrong way but he gives in. "I was hired by an old crew to free one of their members who'd been locked up. Let's just say they didn't pay me anywhere near enough for it."

His answer also rubs me the wrong way. "You did it for money."

"I'm a bounty hunter," he replies. "Not all of us have the prestige of being a war hero."

"It's hardly prestige," I reply knowing it means almost nothing now. "You heard them, it isn't the first time I've been called a war criminal."

"Are you?"

And I realise that if I push his buttons he'll push mine right back. It's fair enough.

"We've all done bad things to survive, some worse than others," I answer stiffly. "When you're on the front lines in enemy territory with thousands of lives on your shoulders you can't afford to be the good guy, it doesn't matter if you fought honourably if you're dead. Sometimes you have to play by the enemy's rules. Which are none at all."

There's no judgement on his part, he knows what it's like out there. It isn't some children's story where the good guys win with the power of friendship and never play dirty. He knows it's bloody and brutal.

"Sometimes you have to do bad things to survive," he says, us on the same page regarding that at least. "But why would they press charges after all these years?"

"Because I did technically commit a warcrime," I admit and he tilts his head towards me at those words and so I elaborate. "To make peace after the war they accepted ex-Imperials into the senate. It's hard not to when everyone who didn't work for the Rebellion was an Imperial by definition. Most did it to survive but others- they were the real monsters. Monsters who have a personal grudge against me," I say knowing Leia has had to protect me more than once politically. "But it's not what I did to survive that they'd charge me for. The problem was that I survived a genocide, and I was willing to do anything to get justice."

"Moff Gideon," he says and the pain is still fresh as the day of the purge and he listens without interruption as for the first time I explain just what I did without censorship.

"That bastard was meant to have been executed, when I discovered he wasn't I set my sights on the Ex-Imperials who were meant to oversee it. It was clearly a cover up that the Republic was too scared to touch, but I wasn't. I wanted to interrogate Moff Gideon's old commanders to figure out where he was hiding but it's hard when Imperials would take their own life before betraying the Empire. I saw it during Cinder, I wasn't going to give them the chance to escape but the only problem was that they'd been pardoned for supposedly being noble and handing over their commanding officer to the Republic when they were the bastards who helped him escape. So I went rogue and captured them, held them prisoner without the Republics knowledge because they wouldn't have permitted it, they refused to even acknowledge Moff Gideon had slipped from between their fingers."

He knows there's more to it and asks "What did you do to them."

"Enough," I answer. "Those men, before the bombs came, I saw them with my own eyes during the purge murdering the children we couldn't evacuate as the Empires ships gunned down the soldiers, and the women- their deaths weren't as quick I'll say that much. So when I had them there at my mercy, listening to them mock how they all screamed I- I didn't show any mercy."

And I can feel the same sickness in his stomach I've felt for so many years. When Leia found out I'd gone rogue she was horrified, Lando helped me cover it up considering had some experiences with averting the law in the past, as did Han. As horrified as they were they understood, especially Leia. Both of us the heirs to two planets that were destroyed. The survivors of genocide at the hands of the Empire.

But that wouldn't make it right, not in the eyes of the Republic.

"Good," Mando finally says and for the first time I feel safe bearing that darkness I've harboured for so long. "They didn't deserve mercy. Neither did Moff Gideon. But he's dead now and so are the others."

"Even so," I say knowing what Luke warned me of. "It's not the Jedi way."

"No, but it's the Mandalorian way."

And I look at him, truly look at him. There is so much conflict within him but slowly I can feel it, an acceptance. Or at least a willingness to find a middle ground.

"We should keep looking," I say clearing my throat and looking around. "Night will fall soon, we should get back to the ship before then."

And so after a thorough enough search we head back to the ship where the Frog Lady is asleep and the child still trapped in the blanket.

Mando finds something for him to eat besides eggs and we sit together in contemplative silence.

Silence that gives me time to truly think about everything. If they have dug up my search for Moff Gideon and want to say I tortured those bastards they'd have grounds but it's an Imperial pressing those charges. Likely one of Gideon's old buddies acting out over his death. Leia would defend me in a heartbeat, she and I know about the cover up the ex-Imperials did over Moffs supposed execution which we can finally prove. The moment we bring that out it's over for them, the charges against me would be dropped but even so it's a stain that can't be removed. I've never been proud of it, despite knowing damn well they deserved it that doesn't mean I'm not ashamed I stooped to their level, even if I had to. But I did it for Mandalore, for the men, women and children slaughtered. For justice.

Now it's time to face the consequences of that justice, but Mando will face far greater penance than I will for breaking in and shooting up a prison. I am the Duchess of Mandalore, a rebel hero for the little it's still worth, but he's a bounty hunter. They won't show him any leniency. I hardly know him in the grand scheme of things but the last thing I want is for us both to be taken in and for me to be the one who goes free.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow General?" he finally asks me to break the silence but it only grows heavier.

"We try to fix this ship and pray for the best, and you don't need to call me that. You heard them," I say having known it for a long time now. "I'm not a General, not anymore. The war's over in the eyes of the Republic, ranks are just titles that don't mean anything."

"At the end of the day if it's just a title," he begins sounding almost confused by it. "Why should it matter?"

"My father always taught me it's not what you're born with, it's what you earn. Whether that be as a Jedi or a soldier. I earned my rank, and now it means nothing. Once again I'm just a lone rebel, and that's the best thing I could be called."

"So then what would you like me to call you?"

"Kyra," I answer, also realising how tired I've grown of only being known as a title when I am far more than that. "We're going to be together for the foreseeable future granted we get out of here, you might as well call me by my name."

After a lengthy silence he finally says "Din. My name is Din Djarin."

I look at him in surprise.

"Din," I repeat and from how his breath hitches I wonder how long it's been since he's shared his name, heard anyone call him by it. I offer him a small smile. "It's a nice name."

"And so's yours," he says a little awkwardly then adds. "You don't need any title or rank. You're more than just a soldier in the Republics army. It doesn't matter what other people call you."

And I realise that he's right. That it doesn't matter. Not when everything they give to me can be taken away just like that.

"Thank you Din," I say genuinely and carefully reach across to squeeze his gloved hand, stirring a reaction in him I can't quite name. "And don't worry, your name's safe with me."

I feel his body still at those words and his helmet tilts to look at our hands. "Like you said, if we get out of here it's going to be you, me and the kid. For better or for worse."

"Well seeing how that's going so far I'm guessing the latter," I say and a low laugh escapes him but there's still a weight on my shoulders. "You don't hate me for what happened that night?"

"I've thought about it, about everything," he says shakily. "I- I still don't know how to believe it but I know you aren't lying. As hard as it is you only told me the truth, if anything I should trust you."

"And do you?"

"The kid does," he answers looking over at his son who's just finished eating. "He might act like a kid but he's never wrong about these things."

"He's special," I say knowingly. "He's a handful but he's special, which is why I'm going to make sure we do this right."

"If we get out of here," he comments looking around at the wreckage.

"We will," I assure him. "And if we don't then we all freeze to death."

He makes an amused sound and watches me pull the blanket tighter around my shoulder's, wishing I took after the Jedi tradition of wearing those horridly plain but warm robes. "You warm enough?"

"I'm the one with the blanket," I laugh quietly and notice how he subtly tries to warm himself. "And I know that beskar isn't keeping you warm."

"I'll live."

I just roll my eyes at his stubbornness and lift up the blanket. "Come here."

"I'm fine. If worst comes to worst I have a flame thrower."

"You're the only one who knows how to fix this damn ship, you are not dying of hypothermia on my watch, or an accident with a flamethrower for that matter," I say knowing he'll find me to be just as stubborn. "Now come here."

He lets out a reluctant sign as he shifts closer until our arms touch, the icy beskar on his shoulder brushing the skin of my bared arm the white leather armour I wear exposes, and I move the blanket to cover us both.

I find myself shifting closer at the warmth his body provides and he looks at me but doesn't make any signals of discomfort. His gaze remains on me for a while and whatever smart remarks I had disappears on my tongue. "Din?"

Again I feel what a word as simple as his name does to him, the emotion it stirs within him.

"You aren't what I expected a Jedi to be."

"What were you expecting?" I ask curiously.

He looks at the kid who's wandering around in front of us, still tiring himself out.

"Well, someone a bit greener." That draws a laugh from me and I swear I can almost feel a smile beneath that helmet. "I- I couldn't have imagined anyone like you."

Before either of us can say anything more the child climbs into his lap, resting his little head on Din's stomach and I tuck him under the blanket.

His big eyes look between Din and I, cooing contently. I smile at the sound and stroke his little ear as he starts to drift off to sleep and adjust my position against the wall so I'm more comfortable as I feel sleep begin to wash over me as well.

"Sweet dreams," Din says, shifting so my body can lean against his comfortably as I go into a state of half consciousness. He continues to surprise me, that beneath the cold hard armour is a man who couldn't be further from the cold-hearted bounty hunter he pretends to be.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #galaxticangel #found.#the mandalorian x oc #Din djarin x oc

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springday-aus · 3 years

Text

SVT’s Jeonghan: Love, War and Everything Between || part one

—

Fic Piece Written by: Admin Grandma of @springday-aus

Moodboard Link: Created by Admin Grandpa

Character Pairing: Y/N [fem. reader] and Seventeen’s Yoon Jeonghan

Other Characters: Nu’est’s Baekho [known as Dongho], Seventeen [Seungcheol and Jisoo, along with idiot squad!Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan], and more to be added along the way!

Genre: historical, romance, drama, royal!au, arranged marriage!au + gender role reversal

None of this is even remotely historically accurate. This is all purely fiction!

Type: series

prologue || part 01 || part 02 || part 03 → to be available! check the progress on our upcoming page!

Word Count: approx. 2.6k

Plot Summary: Korea’s most distinguished military general arrives home, carrying back glory and honor from the war. However, the general has been revealed to be a woman! Due to the prominent military accomplishments you have made as the highest ranking general, by orders of the Empress, you are arranged to be married to the second-eldest prince, Yoon Jeonghan. Only one problem lies between you two: your reputation as a ruthless killing machine, which scares the living daylights out of your new husband.

→ Inspired by: the Chinese drama, Oh My General (also known as The General Above I Am Below)

Warnings: graphic violence, glorified war, murder, sexual harassment, sex discrimination (mainly against women), poly-relationships (i.e. concubines), political corruption, and homosexual tendencies

It had taken six months for the final battle to commence, and three full years of ruthless war, before they finally conceded. Needless to say, the new recruits were lucky to be under your jurisdiction. Had they not, the body count would have been much higher.

Your grip tightens on the rein of your horse, feeling the guilt and anguish wash over you once more of those who have fallen. While it is inevitable to lose soldiers in war, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less.

You take a small breath in, calming yourself once more and settling back into the reality.

The war had begun in the fall, whereas now, it is well into the summer season. You close your eyes, feeling the sun shine warmly on your skin. Taking another breath in, you open your eyes once more to take in the sights.

White butterflies dance over the grass, teasing flowers as they move along. The flowers are in full bloom; even the dirt path, which was once wet and muddy, has patches of grass that pop out from the cracks. While you have traveled to many areas, you were never able to take in the sights—well, at least, the less violent ones.

Ah, war. Politicians may declare war as much as they please, but they have yet to have seen how it destroys the average person—even a general as distinguished as yourself.

“General?”

“Yes,” you say. “What’s wrong, Dongho?”

You don’t look back at him, but you can hear his horse’s footsteps catch up to yours—slowing down to remain a couple of paces behind.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

You smile to yourself. “Rather sentimental.” You turn to him. “When was the last time we ever allowed ourselves to take in nature like this?”

His smile reflects yours. “I believe it was the last time we had been called to fulfill our duty.”

You click your tongue, with a disapproved shake of your head. “We need to go on these outings more often.”

“Well,” Dongho starts. “It’s hard to go on leisurely walks as one of the nation’s most notable figures.”

“And this is why you’re my second-in-command.” You let out another sigh, a bit longer than the previous one. “It’s hard to roam around with such a large target on your back.”

“In hindsight, you are very skilled in many areas. Whether it’s swordsmanship, archery, or taekkyon, only a suicidal fool would challenge you.”

“A suicidal fool, such as yourself?”

“Yes, General,” he says with a chuckle. “I’m a suicidal fool, who has yet to have learned his lesson.”

Dongho has been by your side for as long as you can remember. The two of you lived as neighbors, and evidently best friends, for ten years. When your father and brothers died, there was a brief separation period until you turned fourteen—in which you had met again, when you were starting your military training on request of your grandfather.

Since then, you two trained together, side-by-side in combat for the next twelve years. You rose the ranks together—you as the General and he as the military counselor.

You hear a groan from your left side. “Are we there yet?”

“Kim Jisoo,” you call. “You should know by now how long these journeys are.”

Your bodyguard playfully scowls at you. “Pardon me for being used to having company on these trips.”

From beside her, Namjoo, your other bodyguard, directs a punch to her sister’s arm. “You speak as if I’m dead.” She makes eye contact with you, before rolling her eyes at her sisters antics. “Father would be upset had he heard your inauspicious words.”

Lieutenant Kim worked alongside your father and you’re lucky enough to have him by yours as well. He’s like another family member—practically a close uncle, who is more than aware of your peculiar situation. Along with Lieutenant Kim came his two daughters, Jisoo and Namjoo.

Because he spent all of his time in the military, so did they. They learned as he taught and trained the other soldiers, including yourself and Dongho. Then, when the time came, you gave the both of them the bodyguard positions.

Of course there was protest, especially from their male counterparts who wanted their positions. While the Kims had a good laugh, there were also rumors that spread on your part—you had become known as a playboy, who became desperate for female attention while serving in the military.

Eventually, those rumors had been shut down, considering how your military contributions outweighed the gossip that spread due to envious soldiers. Your status easily overpowered theirs (lack thereof) and you dealt with them... accordingly.

(No one died, but it didn’t mean you didn’t cause some emotional trauma for them. You were nicknamed the Devil for a reason).

But, alas, this is also the root of your predicament.

“You aren’t the company I was referring to,” Jisoo says.

“If you’re referring to those pretty boys back at the capitol,” Namjoo says. “You might as well be the dead one.”

You chuckle at their banter. Jisoo is right (although you would never tell her): it would be nice to have a pretty boy by your side. But, with the current conditions, you know it would only be difficult for him.

Granted, this would be made a burdensome situation for you as well—the only difference being that you’re made of the tougher materials in life and will not hesitate to kill a man when crossed against.

Their banter fades into the background, with Dongho attempting to separate the two before the duo of sisters suddenly becomes solo.

You look up at the bright and clear sky once more, enjoying the moment of peace before the storm strikes.

It’s been about three days before you determined a stopping point, in order to set up camp for the evening. Your soldiers have been on rotation since then; you figure that they should get a well-needed break.

You smirk to yourself. The joke’s on them, considering how the lower ranks are the ones who actually set up: the tents, the cots, the fires.

The sun has already set for the day; the moon shines brightly and the stars twinkle against the evening sky. It’s truly the countryside; in the city, you don’t get sights like these. Too much pollution and such. It only means you and your soldiers still have a long road back to the capitol.

A long sigh escapes you as you stand outside your tent—naturally, with Namjoo on one side and Jisoo on the other.

“What’s wrong, General?” Namjoo asks.

Jisoo turns to you. “Is something bothering you?”

You let out another sigh. “It’s less of a bother and more of a concern.”

“What kinds of concerns?” Jisoo asks. “Could we be of any help to you?”

“Considering we are your protectors,” Namjoo adds with a pointed look.

“And your best friends,” Jisoo says.

“Female best friends.”

You crack a small smile—one that rarely showed during this period. “When do you think…” Your words trail off, trying to find the correct words. “When do you think this charade should be over and done with?”

Namjoo blinks wordlessly, not seeming to understand your question.

“What do you mean, General?” Jisoo asks. “Are you referring to…? Possibly…?”

“When can I fully become (Y/N) rather than just a general?”

“You’re not just a general,” Namjoo says. “You have risen up to become the General. The one who serves and protects your kingdom best.”

“It’s not that I’m dissatisfied with my accomplishments. I’m proud of them, but I would prefer them to be my own rather than the son of the (Y/L/N) family.” You laugh inwardly at your own words.

Son. What a joke.

You did what you’ve had to, but, what was the real cost? The countless men you have killed? The women and children who were left with no one to care for them in this patriarchal society?

What about your own life? What would life had been like, had your father and brothers not been killed? Would you have been married off to a family as well? Or would you still be in the military, serving with the other soldiers like now?

There’s a moment of silence and the two struggle to find their words—whereas you’re left again to your own thoughts.

It’s Jisoo who speaks first. “I want to tell you it would all be okay and things would remain the same.”

“But?”

“But it won’t.” She tilts her head up, the stars shimmering in her eyes. “Things will be hard and things will be difficult. And, whenever you make that decision, we’ll be right here by your side.”

Namjoo elbows you with a mischievous smile. “Just as we have always done. We pride yourselves as your protector.”

Your smile grows. “That’s a relief to hear.” You turn away from them, taking a step back to push back the fabric of your tent to take a step in. “It’s too late to back out anyways.”

“Too late for what, General?” Jisoo asks.

Your head turns to her and your smile doesn’t waver. “The letter has already been sent.”

“Your majesty,” the Vice Premier says. “What do you advise us to do now?”

The King sits at this throne, setting down the newly passed message from General (Y/L/N)—only to come in view with the court.

While he may not be downright angry, he is well aware of how the court may feel. He is also unsure of what will result in his best military general, especially since the war is not exactly over and done with—considering how King Wu may still hold resentments due to the aftermath.

He glances at the letter once again, feeling his head throb. Why did you have to choose now of all times?

Just moments ago, the second messenger from your troops arrived—announcing his arrival and reading the letter aloud for the rest of the court to hear. Upon the King’s request, he had left the letter to the King, still in shock with the present state of affairs.

General (Y/L/N) is a woman.

“Your majesty,” Official Chun says, stepping out from his spot.

“Accepted, proceed.”

“It is unacceptable for a woman to be of such a high position, nevertheless a man’s rightful position. I propose we remove and replace the General.”

Official Lee steps out. “Your majesty.”

“Accepted, proceed.”

“If I may remind some of us here that we are forever indebted to the General. We continue to be so, considering the current circumstances. While he—” He pauses, before correcting himself. “While she may be a woman, she is of the (Y/L/N) family. Not only have they been loyal to the throne, serving our country for many years, they have made many great sacrifices.”

“Your majesty,” Official Kwon says.

“Accepted, proceed.”

“Official Lee is correct. We cannot just remove the General.” He pauses, not before glancing at Official Chun and his followers. “The war might be over but we still have to be alert. Allowing her removal is the equivalent of death for our country.”

Sensing Chun’s anger from the indirect remarks, Official Mae steps out. “Your majesty.”

“Accepted, proceed.”

“General (Y/L/N) is a woman. A woman with too much power shall be the root our demise.” He glances at the other side, spotting those behind the Vice Premier. “She must be put into her place before she gets too ambitious.”

Official Song steps out. “Your majesty.”

“Accepted, proceed.”

“From what we are aware, the (Y/L/N) family does not have any male heirs. Considering the circumstances, we cannot afford to replace her when there are still repercussions of the war to be settled.”

“Your majesty,” Official Chun starts to say.

However, the King puts his hand up, pausing the conversation from continuing any further. He has already made his decision: you were to keep your position. Your accomplishments have stacked up, leaving the entire country indebted to you and your trained troops. Your reputation in the military is the most impressive—no one can be compared to you.

Although, it might be too unsettling for the officials for you to remain in your position. There must be some punishment—some kind of way to appease the court while you can still maintain your position, but not harsh enough for you to refute.

“General (Y/L/N) is to keep her position,” the King announces. He continues, shutting down any more possible verbal opposition. “Our country is indebted to the General. She has obtained previous territories that have been lost in previous battles and she has won countless wars, including the one we have just won. Replacing her would only lead to our doom and, even then, we have no suitable replacement.”

Official Jeong steps out. “Your majesty.”

“Accepted, proceed.”

“I believe that’s a wise decision, as expected from our King.” He swallows apprehensively. “However, we cannot leave her be. After all, she has deceived us—including you. What shall we do with her then?”

The officials murmur and whispers are passed around. Removal is too drastic for the King, therefore an execution is already off the table. No one seems to have any ideas of a possible punishment.

That is, anyone from the court.

While the officials scramble for an idea, the Empress’ eunuch, Eunuch Hak, shuffles himself from her side to the King’s throne.

There’s a hush that falls over the court officials.

“The Empress requests an audience,” Eunuch Hak whispers to the King.

“Accepted.”

From behind her golden curtain, the Empress lifts herself from her spot and gracefully walks towards the court. Her head is held high with elegance and her footsteps are light—almost as if she’s gliding. The officials bow their heads as she walks between them, no one daring to look up at her.

She stops in front of the throne, smiling as she looks up at the King.

“Mother,” he says. “How do you suppose we deal with this predicament?”

“I am proposing a marriage.”

The whispers start up again, unsure of what the Empress is trying to plan.

“Your highness,” Official Kwon says. “To whom do you think the General shall be married to?”

Her smile grows. “I believe that the second nephew is the most suitable candidate.”

“Second nephew?”

“She doesn’t mean—”

“The second prince?”

The King straightens in his seat, intrigued with the idea. “You are proposing a marriage between the most distinguished figure in Korea and Yoon Jeonghan?” He takes a small breath in, leaning back with a cocked eyebrow as he contemplates the idea.

Official Jeong speaks up once more. “Your highness, can you elaborate more as to how this is a suitable punishment?”

“If you ask me, it’s explanatory,” Official Chun mumbles under his breath.

Official Mae smirks at the comment, whispering back. “Prince Yoon is nothing more than a joke to the royal family.”

The Empress lets out a small sigh, proceeding to pretend as if she didn’t hear the rude comments about her grandson.

“It’s not about punishment.” she says. “It’s about balance.” Seeing the apprehensive look from the King, she continues. “Jeonghan is rather unorthodox. He spends much of his time dancing at the brothels and admiring artwork rather than martial arts or sports.”

There’s a murmur of agreement amongst the officials.

The Empress takes it as a sign to continue. “While he is a healthy man with three lovers, he is still uncommitted and unmarried. If the two were to be married, it can help solve the problems that are occurring for both parties.”

The King nods silently, but awaits for the court.

“Your majesty,” Official Kwon says.

“Accepted, proceed.”

“Her highness makes a good argument. I agree.” He thinks for a moment. “Not only would the General be married off to produce a male heir, but the rumors of Prince Yoon could also settle down once he’s married.”

“Your majesty,” Official Lee says.

“Accepted, proceed.”

“I agree with her highness and Official Kwon. This is more advantageous on our part,” he says. “I mean no offense when I say this, but Prince Yoon’s reputation is rather…” He pauses. “Unfavorable, at the moment. The General can help with that change and his with hers when the news spread in the villages.”

“Your majesty,” the Vice Premier says. “Shall we proceed with the marriage then?”

“Yes, we shall,” the King says with a nod. “From this day, we shall begin the wedding preparations. Once the General arrives back to the capital, Prince Yoon Jeonghan will become her husband.”

The Empress moves herself to the sidelines as the King stands up, causing the officials to stop in their spots and lower their heads once more. He steps down from his throne, starting his descent down the stairs and onto the path laid out for him.

The Vice Premier follows him from the right and his majesty’s eunuch, Eunuch Boo, follows him from the left—their conversation continuing in hushed tones.

The Empress leaves shortly after the King’s departure with Eunuch Hak on one side and Court Lady Nam on the other, leaving the officials with themselves.

“Court Lady Nam,” she says. “You shall inform Princess Consort Yoon.”

“Yes, your highness.”

She turns to her right. “Eunuch Hak.”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Begin the wedding preparations.”

A/N: As always, thanks for reading! Please don’t ask for updates. If you would like status updates, check out the upcoming post we have with upcoming works that will be posted!

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andoqin · 3 years

Text

C-Novel Rec

So, I have a Deep Abiding Love for Chinese Webnovels, but not often do I get one that actually gets me deep in my heart in a way where I think about it after I’m done and so I wanted to talk about it a little here.

The novel I want to talk about is called Rebirth of a Star General (重生之女将星) , by Qian Shan Cha Ke (千山茶客). If you’ve read (hetero) c-novels, you might know her name, since she also wrote the novel Rebirth of the Malicious Empress of Military Lineage, which is almost a classic in this kind of rebirth genre.

This Rec/Review/overlong essay is going to contain spoilers, so if you’re completely allergic to those I’ll just give you my TL;DR here: I preferred it a lot over RMEML.

Now to my endless wall of words:

Rebirth of the Star General is pretty much what it says on the tin, main character He Yan, is a famous general in her own right, but no one knows about it because she was only the stand-in for her sickly brother. When her brother grew up and was no longer sick, the family decided that he should receive the military honors she had earned and she would be married off. This was possible thanks to the fact she had always worn a mask, so as not to be discovered.<o:p></o:p>

He Yan was not entirely happy with this decision, but she thought she would make the best of it. Of course, it gets worse because not even a year into her marriage she is first poisoned and then blind as a result and later murdered by her cousin, a concubine of her husband.

She gets reborn as He Yan, beloved and spoiled daughter of a city guard and vows revenge, both on her former husband and on her family, but most of all she longs to become a general again, but this time under her own name and with acknowledgement of her being a female general.

If you want your rebirth novels to include lots of face slapping or intricate revenge plotting, this is not the novel for you, since soon after she is reborn, she kills a guy out of self-defense and when his family and the city guard are after her she uses this chance to enlist in the army, disguised as a man.

This is where she meets her arch-rival in her previous life, a man so gorgeous, once again entire paragraphs are filled trying to describe his magnificent beauty - a hallmark of this author if I ever saw one. She decides she will use this chance anyway, her knowledge of military tactics and her knowledge of her rival (and former classmate) possibly being beneficial in this case.

The author makes it a point to emphasise that He Yan struggles initially to keep up with the military training, since she is now inhabiting the body of a woman who does not have experience with hard work and that she has to work twice as hard to be even mediocre, in the beginning. Obviously mediocrity does not lead to quick military advancement, so her getting incredibly fit very quickly anyway is not very realistic, but even before she had enlisted, He Yan had trained her new body and she has many years of experience as to how to get better and fighting experience, so I gave the novel a pass on that one.

Up to this point the novel was entertaining, but it didn’t really grip me too hard, although I was impatient enough to MTL it, but as the story goes along He Yan really developed into one of my favourite c-novel heroines ever. So often in novels like this, the female character is treated as exceptional and all other women are dumb bitches, often just in the way of our main couple and dispatched accordingly. But He Yan does not treat other women like this and over the course of the novel builds lasting connections with all sorts of women.

And then there is the scene that made me go: okay yeah, this is going right up the favourite list.

He Yan meets up with the Second Male Lead (who never really is a serious threat to the OTP, He Yan only ever sees him as a friend and somewhat nice guy) and he tries the “oh you’re so unique and special, no other woman is like you” speech, but He Yan stops him and rips into him and the patriarchy in such a beautiful way, that even MTL doesn’t hamper:

"A-He is very different from ordinary women."

He Yan looked at her, "What's different?"

Chu Zhao continued to walk forward, his voice still soft: "Most women, even though they are faced with such a predicament, are already numb and indifferent, and do not think as much as Ah He does. If A-He is thinking about them now, it is very likely that they wont enjoy it, and they will even complain that you are meddling in their affairs."

He laughed: "This sounds a bit condescending."

Chu Zhao smiled, "Why do you say that?"

"The court is a man's court, the world's affairs are a man's world affairs, even when studying in the battlefield, it is men who are the only ones who have the grace. It is so unreasonable that men take advantage of the world, but in turn blame women for being numb-minded and unmotivated, what is this if not superiority?"

"Brother Chu thinks that I am different from ordinary women because I have studied, I have left the house, and I even went to the military camp. But if you let those women be like me, who have seen the snow of Liangzhou Wei, the water of Jiyang City, the long moon of the desert, the rivers and mountains, do you think they would still be willing to be trapped in a jealous mansion, would they still be complacent and numb and foolish?"

She smiled a little bit like Xiao Jue, "I think the men in the world are worried about this, so they have set up many ridiculous rules to bind women, breaking their wings with the three rules and five rules, and using those unwarranted 'virtuous wives and beautiful women' to judge them. The more foolish they are, the more reassured the men are, and the more they say, 'See, the women are shallow', when they are the ones who caused it!"

"Because they also know that once women are given the chance to 'choose', they will never become a vase in the harem with their hands outstretched waiting to be fed by their husbands. Those good women would become generals, chivalrous men, scribes, staff, and compete with them for the grace of the world, and they, in turn, might not win."

The girl's eyes were as clear as the water in the springtime of Ji Yang City, transparent and clear, seeing clearly and distinctly, as if they could reflect the most splendid daylight.

He was always able to speak well and would not bring the atmosphere to an awkward point, but at this moment he did not know what to say. It was as if there was nothing he could say to refute the person in front of him. It was clearly a ridiculous, insouciant, naive and annoyingly righteous statement, but it shone out the shadow of a human being, with nothing to hide.

He was also uneven in his heart.

Although pretending to be "He Ru Fei" had brought her a lot of pain in her life, it had also taught her to see sights that many women would never see in their lifetime. If she hadn't pretended to be "He Ru Fei", she would not have known that men could do so much more than women. If you were talented in literature, you could be a bachelor with a full belly, if you were skilled, you could be a general with a good war record. Even if you were mediocre at everything, you could still be the most ordinary man on the street. To put it mildly, even at the Raketongzhuang, women were gambling prostitutes and men were gamblers.

It was only because she later became "Madam Xu" and worked as both a man and a woman that she realised that the world treats men and women so differently, that it is not that men do not suffer, but their suffering can be the basis for judging themselves. The women, on the other hand, spend their lives waiting for the men's affirmation of their hardships.

It is obvious that they are both born as human beings, but who is more noble than the other? It is ridiculous that some men still look down on girls from the bottom of their hearts, which makes people speechless.

and this is when the author pretty much states why He Yan would never be with SML

Chu Zhao and Xiao Jue were, after all, not the same. With women, they both considered them weak and unable to protect themselves. But the former's judgement had a hint of negativity and condescension in it, while the latter, as evidenced by the treatment of the female corpse in the Sun family's backyard in Liangzhou City, had more to do with pity.

And I loved that so much??? Yes, both the ML and SML have patriarchical attitudes towards women, but for He Yan there is a subtle and important difference. And this continues to be a theme throughout the book. One woman later keeps telling her son “Don’t underestimate women!” to later add, after He Yan has become a female general in her own right, under her own name, that He Yan might not be the only female general, there will be two, three or even more.

The romance is of the very, very slow variety and the main couple doesn’t even get together until the last quarter of the novel, officially, but before that we have all sorts of delicious fake relationship, cohabitation and other delightful tropey shenanigans.

The slow romance and relatively easy way the revenge is dealt out might mean this is not for everyone, but if you’re into a nice novel about a woman realising her goals, with a man who will always support her by her side, this might be for you.

And yes, she continues to lead armies after they are married :D

#rebirth of a star general #i read stuff #rec #novel rec #het novel

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auroras-blend · 3 years

Text

Road Trip

Bonus Chapter from Leo's POV where he takes Vittoria on a 10-hour car ride to Rome for a vacation. Basically, he's stuck in a car with an eight-year-old for 10+ hours.

Leonardo Borghese was a patient man and prided himself on his ability to stay calm in tense situations. He wore a mask that most artists could only dream of modeling, but his facade was quickly crumbling in the second hour of the ten-hour car ride. “Are we there yet?” asked Vittoria for the sixth time in the last hour.

“No, not yet principessa. Not for a while,” he groaned, looking at the car’s clock, “Eight more hours.”

He had promised to take her to Rome, his birthplace, months ago and now he, unfortunately, had to make good on that promise. Vittoria had seemed tired when she entered the car at four in the morning (she hadn't even had a panic attack), which is why he had forgone giving her Nyquil, but apparently, she had a burst of energy ten minutes into their ride. Apparently, the panic attack had been delayed and she spent the first hour crying and praying, before finally settling down into a conversation. Every single car ride. Whoever killed Giuseppe and traumatized his daughter would pay dearly, especially considering getting her to church was always a two-hour-long affair if he added in the time for trying to get her into the car.

The past two hours had been hell for him and he had eight more to go. Eight was optimistic given his daughter’s small bladder.

Leonardo Borghese didn’t like being in a small shared space with a prattling person. His cellmate hadn’t been as aggravating as Franco, and dear God he’d say it, Franco wasn't as aggravating as Vittoria was right now. “Why don’t you try and go to sleep?”

“I’m not tired!” she said brightly, before rapidly firing a line of questions at him, “How far is Rome? Do we still get to see gladiators fight? What about the lions? Will they have lions?”

“Far enough,” he breathed, “No, we won’t see gladiators fight and there are no lions.”

“They should have lions,” she quipped, “Did you know they had women, gladiators? I don’t think I’d like to be a gladiator, because I don’t like blood. Minerva was a war goddess and she was smart. I read about her in my book, but she’s not my favorite. Do you know who my favorite is Papa?”

Oh, God. “Who is it Vittoria?” he asked, trying to keep a smile in his voice.

“Venus and Diana. I like Venus cause she's the goddess of love and beauty. I play Venus a lot because I’m pretty. Did you know the planet’s named after her?” she asked, not giving him a chance to reply, “And then there’s Diana because she’s the goddess of the moon. She doesn’t date icky boys and turns them into deers! I’d like to do that!”

How am I going to do this for another nine hours? “Who’s your favorite Roman god, Papa? I bet I can guess! Is it Jupiter? Because he’s the king! Did you know a planet is named after him too? It's the biggest one! You're really big, Papa! Did you know I know all the names of the planets now because I remember the Roman gods and goddesses? Sg.na Sagesse taught me a song. I’ll show you!”

This is hell. Vittoria began singing along to the tune, Michael Finnegan: “There are nine planets around the sun, let me name them one by one…”

Can I mute her? “There’s Mercury, Venus, Earth, and Mars, they have super pretty stars!”

Leonardo was gritting his teeth and focusing on the road. She’ll fall asleep eventually. “Then there’s Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune but wait one moment we’re not done with this tune!”

Why can’t we be done? “Stop right there, please don’t go, make some room for Pluto! There are nine planets around the sun, now you can name them one by one!”

Leonardo gave a fake gasp. “That’s incredible principessa! You’re such a smart girl,” he praised as he watched a proud blush rise to her cheeks.

“Really?”

“Of course! I could never memorize that song like you can,” he said, unknowingly damning himself.

Vittoria gasped. “Oh Papa, don’t say that! You can! I can teach you!”

Shit. “Oh, it’s okay principessa,” he tried to quickly say before she began singing the song again.

***

He considered himself a saint for not snapping at her. Vittoria had sung the planet song close to thirty times before he finally got the hang of it, or at least until she passed out. He knew the song now. There are nine planets around the sun, let me name them one by one… Those damn lyrics were stuck in his head and he couldn't even drown it out with the radio unless he wanted to risk waking Vittoria. Leonardo looked at the clock...seven hours to go...make some room for Pluto...Leonardo sighed at the long road ahead.

***

They had made six pit stops in the last two hours because Vittoria had the smallest bladder. At the sixth stop, they decided to get lunch where he ordered a light meal but allowed her to order a pizza with a glass of milk, even though she begged for a soda. There was no way he’d make that mistake. Vittoria was incredibly chatty with the waitresses, telling them that they were going to Rome and everything they’d see. She could give Franco a run for his money.

“But all the Roman gods are there! Did you know that, Papa? I want to go to the Pantseon first. That’s my very favorite place!” she squealed.

As exhausted and annoyed as he was, he did smile at her excitement. He had been worried that his eight-year-old would be bored out of her mind and would throw an embarrassing tantrum at the museum, but she wasn’t. She’s an academic, just like her father. “Pantheon,” he corrected.

“Oh right! Anyway…” she continued.

Leonardo let himself enjoy the moment and memories he was making with his daughter. He knew she probably didn’t get to go on any road trips when she lived with her mother, and seeing her excited about her first-ever vacation was endearing. Especially when he was the one giving her her first-ever vacation because he had missed so many firsts. She stole those precious moments from me, he thought hatefully. But he had the rest of their lives to be the only one who gave her those special memories.

He had wanted this, a perfect daughter to spoil and who would worship the ground he walked on, but when he had wished for it he hadn’t imagined that he’d be raising her alone. A proper family vacation would have been with a wife and a car full of children, though now that he was in a car with just one child for the past several hours, he was content to keep the number down for the time being. It was a lot of work just caring for her by himself, not that he was incapable, mind you, but he took great joy in being called a “selfless single father” by those around him. Leonardo knew full well that if he were a woman, the words used to describe him would be derogatory.

He could tell the stigma that Vittoria carried around with her when she was raised in the States haunted her. The names she had been called, people refusing to play with her...he truly was, in his mind, the best thing to ever happen to her. He told himself he was acting in her best interest when he took her to Italy to live with him, after all, it's my right, and that he gave her everything she ever wanted and needed. She seemed far better off now than she did then, well with a sprinkle of a few traumatic events, but details, details.

“Are you happy, then?” he asked.

She nodded as her cheeks puffed out with a large bite of pizza. “Slow down,” he said when he saw her trying to swallow quickly so she could speak again.

He didn’t want her to choke. “But then we have to go to our garden and art museum!”

Vittoria was convinced that Villa Borghese and the Borghese Gallery and Museum were their family’s museum and that it only made sense because they were both artists. He let her entertain that notion. Leonardo, contrary to his nature, let his daughter lead the conversation, mainly because he didn't have the energy to contribute. Another three to four hours seemed impossible, but there was still enough daylight for them to use, and they had to check-in at five o’clock. “I can’t wait to be in Rome! We have to take super lots of pictures!” she grinned.

“We’ll take plenty of pictures,” he smiled back.

“You were born there, right Papa?”

“Yes, I was born in Rome,” he smiled.

“I wish I was born in Rome. I was born in stupid Idaho,” she frowned, “That’s a state.”

Idaho, in his opinion, was an ordinary state with unremarkable people. Not fit for Vittoria. When he had visited Rome a while ago, he had changed her birthplace to Rome to better suit her. She wasn’t an ordinary child. “Did you not like Idaho?” he asked, already knowing her answer.

“No. It was boring and the people were mean. I had to do a report on it and people like us because we grow potatoes, but that’s it,” her frown was set for a moment before she broke out into a smile, “My report was the bestest! I always make my first letters capitals and add periods. I’m the only second-grader who remembers!”

“Of course you are. I bet you were the best writer in your class,” he praised.

He had seen her writing samples, and even when she wrote an argumentative piece about throwing Charles to the tigers, her work was still fairly impressive. Writing seemed to be one of her strengths, which was reassuring given that math and reading were not. “I was! I always got gold stars! Mr. Morgan never gave them to Rodney, because he’s a bad writer!” she said the last part with a smug look on her face that she inherited from her father.

Leonardo had begun to notice the striking similarities they shared in their mannerisms and expressions. The way she slipped on her “happy mask” as she called it and the way she forced her eyes to soften when she wanted sympathy over a pointless tantrum. Vittoria was learning to play the game he had set, practiced, and perfected. She’ll never win, but it’s sweet to see her try.

He indulged her with ice cream before they headed back out into the car and onto the road for another few hours of hell. And it was hell. He had created a car ride bag for her, which he praised himself for making, that he had filled with crayons, paper, coloring books, storybooks, a blanket, and snacks that wouldn’t leave crumbs. He swore by it, finding solutions for the “I’m hungry” and “I’m bored” complaints that he insisted other parents adopt as if they hadn’t already thought of that before, because even though he called it a “car ride bag”, it was most certainly a “dad bag” that was a staple of fatherhood.

Leonardo thought it was one of the greatest things he had ever thought of, but he quickly regretted it when Vittoria pulled something out that he hadn’t even known she’d snuck in. She always claimed it helped her calm down. His shoulders tensed when he heard the tune of the London Bridge begin to play. “Is that your music box?” he asked, not bothering to turn around.

“Mm-hm,” she hummed before she began to sing quietly under her breath.

I’m going to kill Signora Bianchi. He looked at her through the rear-view mirror and saw her begin to color in her coloring book of a Greek garden, a pleasant smile on her face as she whispered the lyrics. It was only a few ear grating moments before the tune ended and even fewer moments in between her cranking it up again. Why am I being punished? “Principessa, I’m going to turn on the radio,” he said, reaching for the knob.

“You can’t!”

“Why not?” he sighed with irritation.

“This is my artist music!”

Of course, it is, he thought dryly. “Vittoria-,”

“I promise only for this page!” she swore, “Cross my heart!”

It was his fault. He refused to admit it, but it was his fault for believing her words and letting her play the song. Vittoria was a child who took her sweet old time with her art, so it was hours (twenty minutes) until she was finished with her masterpiece. “And done!”

“Thank Christ,” he muttered under his breath, “I’m turning on the radio now, okay?”

Anything to drown out that godforsaken tune in my head. And for a while, he was blessed with just the music as Vittoria fell into a post-lunch nap. Thank you, God. It seemed the Lord was shining on him because they were less than five minutes out without any problems. We’ll make it there and- “Papa, I feel sick,” Vittoria croaked.

No. His eyes met the small figure behind the rear-view mirror. She was hunched over, clutching her belly, and her face had gone ashy. He had to stop himself from insensitively saying, don’t throw up in the car! The hotel was right in front of them, all we have to do is make it. “Just hold on, a few moments and-,” as he made a sharp turn into the parking lot, the jolt caused her to unleash whatever was in her stomach.

The sound of her hurling was as sickening as the smell of pizza, milk, and ice cream that had been poorly dissolved by her stomach acid which also made an appearance. The sight of it nearly made him throw up, but he was better than that. He had finished parking by the time she had finished expelling her lunch from her stomach. Leonardo gave a shaky sigh as he heard Vittoria start to cry, apologizing furiously. He got out of the car and stretched his legs outside as he hurried over to her door, not taking a moment to breathe in the fresh air. “I’m-I’m sorry, Papa!”

He quickly unbuckled her from her seat belt and pulled her out of the car and settled her on his hip. He wasn’t his father, he wasn’t cruel enough to think that she could’ve controlled it, and he certainly wouldn’t punish her by making her eat it. His chest tightened just a fraction of a second remembering what he was put through, before focusing on the moment he was in. She’s just my fragile little girl. She can't help it. He knew that now, of all times, was an important reminder for her to know that he was the better parent. The one who is her favorite and who loves her most. “I know, I know you didn’t mean it,” he whispered as he felt her head.

A little warm, but she probably just got car sick. He forced his eyes to assess the damage, which was very little considering she aimed incredibly well into the bag. “Oh thank God,” he sighed before frowning.

Of course, that music box is left untouched. Of course, it is! With the exception of a few specks on the leather that could easily be wiped off and the smell that could easily be remedied by airing the car out, there was no damage whatsoever. He had been terrified that she had thrown up on the carpet that he just had cleaned. The mess was quickly taken care of and the bag was thrown out because they could just buy newer and better items later. The check-in process was swift and he wasted no time getting her into the hotel room and washing her off before putting her back in bed. Vittoria was moaning and groaning against the pillows as if she were a Victorian woman on her deathbed. He didn't know whether to roll his eyes or smile. She’s incredibly dramatic. “Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes vulnerable and wide, “For taking care of me.”

“It’s what fathers do,” he said, having her sip a cool glass of water to soothe her burning throat.

“I had fun,” she smiled.

He climbed into the bed next to her and let her lean against him, “You did?”

He had received absolutely no enjoyment in that car ride whatsoever and thought for all intents and purposes that it was a failure. “Uh-huh, except throwing up. I didn't like that,” she gave a weak laugh, “But I had fun with you.”

It occurred to him that he hadn’t snapped at her when he was annoyed, let her talk about things she was interested in, and do things that she enjoyed. Her mother was an irritable and unstable woman who probably would have already yelled at her ten minutes (he was being gracious with that number) into the drive, before breaking down herself. Who would’ve been furious at Vittoria for throwing up in the car and who would cause her to break down into uncontrollable sobs. Leonardo felt overwhelmingly smug that she had a great time with him and that he was the one who made her smile. “I had fun with you too,” he grinned.

Vittoria snuggled against him before falling fast asleep. She’s such a good sleeper. Vittoria’s breathing became soft and suddenly his breaths started to match hers, as his exhaustion caught up to him and lured him into a deep slumber. He had suffered, but she had smiled. And he had made her smile, and in his mind, that was all that mattered.

#leo being a schmuck #no new chapter for a while so here's a bonus?#i try to post on fridays #leonardo borghese #travel #bonus chapter #marilyn winslow #vittoria borghese #she's being cute #i made the planet song especially for this because we're learning about planets in class #PLUTO IS A PLANET #IN OUR HEARTS ♥️#could've posted on ao3

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procrastinatingfeminist · 3 years

Text

Were Luke and Ben set up to fail?

As much as I don't like Kylo Ren, fuckboy extraordinaire, and dislike the whole forced redemption arc for him, I really have to wonder if he - and by extension, Luke, - weren't set up to fail.

Leia entrusts her only child's education into hands of Luke, who grew up in an isolated homestead as an only child, pretty much sheltered by his uncle and aunt out of circumstance, and out of necessity. If not Beru, at least Owen knew who Shmi's son was. Anakin Skywalker was not exactly an unknown figure even before his ascension to Darth Vader, but one of the more notorious Jedi Knights. And when whoever, though probably Obi Wan, gave him Luke - I guarantee he was warned to be circumspect about his nephew's heritage. Add to that the fact that Tatooine still had slavery / indentured servitude in common use even during the days of Old Republic - I doubt very much there was a lot in the way of formal school education. So, whatever friends Luke made, like Biggs etc, were probably few and far between and barely seen inbetween his chores.

Leia had more exposure to proper child rearing and education just by the fact that she grew up on a world where these things were offered at all, though I have no idea how much of it was free or mandatory, because the whole Star Wars universe's economy skews heavily towards capitalist’s wet dream (yes, including slavery. Those motherfuckers would happily bring back slavery and child labor if it meant an extra buck to squeeze out of someone). For all I know, Alderaan could have had a system of privatised schools only. And yet she gives her son into his hands, while she is off on Coruscant making politics happen.

Star Wars universe is a universe of orphans, and it doesn’t matter whether they were thrown away by their parents voluntarily or reluctantly in the kid’s best interests.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge Lei her career, because she is brilliant at it, just like her mother and her stepfather were. And Ben is safer not on the same planet as her, and definitely safer not on Coruscant, because he is a possible bargaining chip. The criticism, that women had been facing since they were allowed to be part of earning workforce, is here the same - either you are a bad mother because you don’t have time for your kid, or you are wasting your talents and squashing your dreams to fulfill a function you might not have particularly wanted anyway. Why have a kid at all, if you aren’t going to invest the time in learning to know him? I would have been much happier if at least Han went with Ben, so that he would have at least one parent he can rely on to be a steady, dependable influence; but as far as I am aware he mostly stayed at Leia’s side, until his wandering feet took him away. And Luke was certainly no Owen Lars.

It was hinted at that Luke wasn't the only teacher in his newly opened... I don't even remember if it was a Jedi temple or a Jedi academy. But if he and his sister were the Jedi's last hope, while so many of the motherfucking Sith survived (even the Emperor, for fucks sake), then realistically they were either not Force users or much worse at it than him.

He has no knowledge of Jedi teaching methods, no experience with children, no other teaching resources aside from what he might have scavenged from temple ruins and as a war veteran I can't help but think that he probably suffered from PTSD. No person who is of clear and rational mind would think that the best solution to keep the Dark Force at bay is to kill your underage nephew because of what he hadn't even done yet.

And while he could get advice from the Force ghosts of his former teachers or his father, I don't know how much he can trust that advice. For one, those Force ghosts clearly demonstrated that they have their own agenda, one that doesn't necessarily has Luke's best interests in mind, when they were still alive. For another, their... morals and methods are iffy at best. Obi-Wan spent how many years on Tatooine, watching out over Luke? And yet the Lars' homestead was completely defenceless, even when one Skywalker already lost her life there; arguably two were lost when Shmi died, because her death was the beginning of Anakin's slide to the Dark Side.

Another point is - the best moment to start teaching Luke in handling the Force was really on the man run to save a princess? Not in all the years before when he was bored out of his skull? On the run from the imperial forces after freeing her? When Obi-Wan knows first-hand that the younglings in the Jedi temples were taught for several years. But a couple months on a swamp planet, being insulted by a cryptic motherfucker, who is masquerading as a wise old one and it's "Yer a Jedi, Luke!" Even if Owen would have been against the lessons, Obi-Wan was literally known to be able to talk anyone into anything, and he couldn’t have convinced a moisture farmer from a podunk desert planet why letting the son of Darth Vader grow up completely unaware of the pitfalls of the Dark Side might be a grave mistake?

His next teacher outright tells Luke to let his sister die, because that is a loss he is prepared to bear. When he already expects him to invest all his free time and focus for the next several years to training, as if there isn’t a war going on, as if there wasn’t already a whole planet that was eradicated. Luke is not an automaton, he is a human and he needs to feel that there is something worth saving. If everything he had an emotional connection with is gone, what is he supposed to save? (Though, to be fair, we are talking about Jedi here, so they might actually see that as a bonus, that he has no one left he cared about.) And you are telling me that these are the Force ghosts he is supposed to ask for advice when it comes to teaching young children???

I'm not even going to go into the whole thing where Yoda already refused to teach Anakin because he was supposedly too old, but neither Obi-Wan nor Yoda intervened in the twins' education until they were adults - despite their adoptive parents knowing full well whose children they were and that they were more than likely to be Force-sensitive. How does that even make sense???

There was never any other outcome to expect but that one of them was going to fall to the Dark Side, while the other one was completely ineffectual in preventing it, and it's a toss-up which one of them both it would have been. If they had wanted another outcome, they shouldn’t have sat around on their hineys on their respective planets, twiddling their thumbs or claws, to act in the last possible second

#star wars #luke skywalker #kylo ren #meta

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 30

The duo both seated on the bench out front eyed the students milling about. “Something’s up,” Victor rumbled to James who nodded.

“Can’t be good, second day. Wonder what happened.”

Not long after teachers were seen to be gathering and including Mr Randolph between the Deans off to a meeting they all were migrating off to. “There she is,” Victor hummed tapping his arm to James’ shifting their gaze to you.

“Something happened,” James growled noting your anxious grin in your path across the pathway to the pair of them standing up fidgeting with their shirts and vests to keep calm in the few minutes they had to wait. “What’s wrong,” they both asked you in Victor’s claiming your books hoping to relax you more into sharing without the weight of them and the envelopes.

“I’ll tell you at home,” you said earning huffs from the pair. “Be best there. Where we can have privacy.”

Victor, “Can you at least say what’s up with the teachers and Deans?”

“At home,”

James growled through an exhale and asked, “How did your club go? They approve the camera?”

“Yes, it was simple, mainly inspected cameras brought in and then we had to take two pictures of non human images. Apparently it’s two or more a meeting, the one on Friday will be longer.”

Victor asked eyeing the envelopes, “These from the club?”

“No, one’s from Mr Elliot, the other is from my Mathematics Professor, who taught my dad. He found some copies of my dads old papers I had doodled on and he somehow managed to mention me in. The others are articles and essays dad wrote on his time on the paper here at Columbia.”

James’ arm eased around your back catching on to your subtle inching closer to his side wishing to cuddle earning you a kiss on the forehead as well once you were flat against his side. “Sounds lovely. How were your other classes.”

In a round a bout sort of way you drug through each course only worsening their fear you were keeping something big from them for some reason. Once at the end of your block clearly their pace had picked up and up the stoop they led you to get you inside the living room where your things were set aside and the duo sat across from you on the comic coated coffee table. The focus on you enough to lure Eddie and Dawn in to settle on the couch beside you as the brothers said with focused scowls, “Spill it. What happened?”

Eddie asked looking at you, “Something happened to you at school?”

After a sigh you replied, “I was in Physics and these guys behind me commented on my perfume, and Professor Ewell held them back to talk to them. Well they caught up to me in Mathematics after that,” the whole time you grew more anxious to their tightening jaws and brows, “The main guy came to lean over me but the Professor threw an eraser at his face making him in charge of erasing and his friend got sent to the other end of the seats.

James, “And?” Trying to remain semi calm noting his tensing was only causing your voice to falter.

“I got called up to the board and while the Professor was distracted he whispered to me that he didn’t know why I bothered, and that I could do better for myself on my back.”

Victor growled out, “Was he kicked out?”

Eddie growled the more acceptable question, “Did he die?”

“No, when he touched me,”

“He touched you!” They all growled out and Eddie’s eyes flickered between black and white around his pale iris’ through Venom’s oozing out to cover him from the ankle up. “Where?”

“The side, of my breast.” Darkening their eyes, “It was just a finger.”

Victor, “I’m going to shatter that finger,”

“I already did that,”

James’ brows inched up, “You shattered his finger?”

“And I broke some of his ribs.” Furrowing their brows in confusion while their internal rage bubbled up higher. “Then he collapsed into a desk behind him and now all the guys are saying he got handsy with a dame so some guy dropped him and they are giving us space now. Professor Randolph said even if the Columbia Dean knew about the handsy part he would say it should be taken as a compliment,”

Eddie, “Oh I’ll give him a compliment.”

“They had to drag him to the nurse who called an ambulance.”

Venom, “Venom will eat the insolent fleshling!”

“Exactly what you can’t do. I’ll end up expelled and you’ll all land in jail.”

Victor, “No jail if they can’t find a body.”

James, “Exactly, we break him and feed his pieces to Squishy.”

Smoothing a hand over your forehead Dawn’s hand stroking your back turned your head to see her ask, “Who touched you? No one should have ever touched you and they should not get away with this. Even David would track them down and kill them.”

Eddie, “Bunny, who touched you? This deserves a conversation minimum and you know it. Who?”

“Brent Farley.”

Eddie stood and walked to the phone, “I’m going to make a call.”

“Eddie, can’t we just go to the film?” You asked turning in your seat watching his head on Venom’s fully exposed body creeping out over the back of his head in his wish to eat the offender. James’ slide closer and hands folding around yours on your lap turned you back again to lock eyes with your fiancé, barely above a whisper you squeaked out, “We have plans.”

“Yes we do. And we have tickets for later, until then however we are going to have a chat with this Brent,”

Victor, “We promise, no one is going to prison and we will take it up with Truman if they dare to expel or punish you for defending yourself.”

James cupped your cheek saying sentimentally with a hint of a growl he couldn’t lose quite yet, “No one, touches you, or makes any comments. None at all.”

“He’s the son of a Congressman,” you said and heard Eddie on the phone in the other room.

“Dave, I need you to come over to watch our girls. And have one of uncle Lou’s guys head to St Umphries and find out which room the Farley boy is in.” He hung up and came back in the room where he sat down beside you again wrapping you in a tight hug, “Just leave this to us, Sis, stay with Dave and we’ll be back in more than enough time for the film.” He kissed your forehead then claimed a warm kiss from Dawn as James kissed you on the lips followed by a kiss to the other side of your forehead by Victor.

The three were up and on their way behind Eddie’s chosen path and you sighed finding your feet muttering, “I need some tea…”

Dawn behind you stood hurrying to ease an arm around your back saying, “You know they won’t do anything to jeopardize life with you.”

“I know,” you sighed out. “I knew they would be furious.”

“Beyond furious, as they should be. All the other men were talking about it?”

“Yes, even avoided us ladies like the plague after I got back from lunch. I know the guys in class at least weren’t expecting me to just drop him like that,” you said filling the kettle with water you added to the burner switched on while she grabbed the tea.

“How big was he?”

“Same height as Victor, but, bit slimmer. Wrestler and Rower, their teams are pissed their big star is out for the semester at least, if he gets movement back in his finger.”

With a smirk she replied, “You really shattered his finger?”

“At least his middle knuckle. I doubt if they could do anything with metal plates to be able to bend it again if they let him keep the finger.”

“I hope they don’t.” To the doorbell she went to let Dave in and came back with him into the kitchen where she asked, “Tea Dave?”

Dave replied, “Um,”

Smirking at him you replied, “Eddie brought some coke home yesterday if you want one.”

Dave, “Don’t mind if I do,” helping himself into the fridge while you readied the tea for you and Dawn. “What’s this all about? Eddie never asks for a guard for you two.”

“Guy got handsy at school,” stiffening him, “The guys went to go and ‘not kill him’ at his hospital room.”

Dave, “Good, already in a hospital. Where he should be, morgue would be better, but no doubt he’s bound for a promotion when they get there. Farley huh? No doubt daddy will be meeting him in that room soon enough if he argues.”

Dawn, “Isn’t his dad a Congressman?”

Dave smirked saying, “That’s what they call him in the papers but they should add pocket to the front of that title.” He said tossing the lid into the empty coffee can labeled for them, he used the magnetic bottle opener from the front of the fridge he returned to the fridge, “For all the favors he owes our family and a few others. Fifty more just as desperate as him for a foot up to take his place.”

Dawn, “You rig elections?”

Dave chuckled sitting down, “No, we keep tabs on a few things. Leave the rigging to other families, but everyone has their topics they put their foot down on.”

Pouring two cups of tea you added some honey to the one picked for you then passed the honey to Dawn who added some of her own along with a couple cubes of sugar, one of which was added to yours. Lifting the cup you carried to the table back to the living room you went to settle into the couch propping your feet up on the table only to shift your head asking, “Are those Captain comics?”

Dawn nodded settling beside you, “Yes, fairly dreadful to be honest. Only women in them are fawning over Captain or he’s saving them from purse snatchers.”

“Ooh, terrifying, can’t tell you how hard I had to clutch my purse through the war,” you giggled out with her as Dave laughed.

Dave, “No doubt you’ll be fixing that.” Chatter over the comics bled into glances to the clock on the wall once you’d completed your class work running down to the time to start heading over to the theater. “Don’t you worry dolls, Eddie said he’d meet up with us at the theater.”

Locking the house behind you Dawn eased a hand over her belt reminding herself that Momma Brock had Teddy for the evening freeing you all up for a date night out. In her purse Dawn had the tickets for you both Eddie had passed her and into the lobby you went with Dave beside you. Still chatting through inspection of the film posters hung up for viewing. The guys were cutting it close to say the least and the blonde approaching on your right flinched a smile back across your lips to her soft, “Miss Bunny Pear?”

“Hello,” you said to the chuckling blonde offering you her hand revealing a bright smile to match her baby blue eyes through the brief handshake.

“I hoped it might be you, I’m Norma Jeane.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” you said in looking her over wondering where you’d seen her before.

Dawn said, “I’ve seen you somewhere. Do you live nearby?”

“Oh no, I am from California, I am a model and just got a contract with 20th Century Fox.”

“Wow,” you replied and she smiled at you. “That sounds incredible. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. My first acting contract. Sent me out here for more screen shots and some acting courses, and I do hope this isn’t too much I just had to meet you.”

“I’m really not anyone special you know.”

“Oh but you are,” she replied before Dawn or Dave could. “You truly are. I worked in a factory when I was sixteen making parts for the war while you were out there in the papers coming back to life almost, and being so high ranked. You gave everyone a story to root for. One of the best I’d seen.”

“Perhaps, up till the papers printed anything on me I was just an orphan sticking close to my brother.”

“I grew up in orphanages and foster families, you are more than just that to me. I doubt I could be that strong.”

You grinned to yourself again, “I bet you’re far stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Dawn said for you.

She smiled and shook Dawn’s friend, “I know you too, Miss Dawn, and you have a beautiful baby boy according to the papers.”

Dawn smiled and nodded, “Yes, though far from as noteworthy-,”

“Dawn has her own column in a paper back home in Canada. Still publishes by mail. Journalist just like Eddie, whole family works on the paper back home. Far from noteworthy my foot, all that and a baby while putting up with our drama.”

She rolled her eyes and Norma went on excitedly, “Oh I love to write, or I did, in school that is. Worked on the school paper. Love stories, always have. Part of why I wanted to act since I was little.”

“Everyone loves a good story, used to practically live in the library growing up.”

James, “You know where he’ll be?”

Eddie said, “Farley’s family have a wing named after them at St Umphries and never go anywhere else. No doubt if he was taken anywhere else they’d move him there.”

James said, “He better be inches from dead or I’ll put him there.”

Victor, “What is it with men? One thing I miss of growing up was duels. Can’t just off a guy for dishonoring your family anymore.”

Eddie shook his head muttering as they waited for the subway train to pull up, “Second day. Her second fucking day. They’re supposed to have brains in that school!”

James, “They never have brains in universities, only names and expectations of those below them.”

Victor, “They better all keep their distance and remember what happens to idiots who treat women like meat.”

The rest of the ride the plan was shared with the notion made clear that he would act up again and after promising this time not to kill him they in fact would get the chance again when he broke the rules they would set for him. Grins eased across their faces upon passing the nurses milling about the halls between patients all taking note that they must be among the fellow students come to check on the beaten idiot. Straight into the room they went finding the idiot wheezing to himself, “Gonna pay, little tramp, breaking my finger and ruining my season-,”

Victor eased the door shut Eddie subtly snuck the curtain out to block the view and James said, “Brent. We need to have a chat.”

“Who the hell are you?! Get out-,”

Cupping a hand over his mouth on the other side of the bed Victor shushed him, “I don’t think you know who you’re speaking to little boy.”

Eddie said, “Bunny’s my sister,”

Behind Victor’s hand more curses were muffled and James came forward pressing hard with his palm into his side drawing pained groans from the essentially gagged Brent feeling from the throbs of pain against it just how badly you had hurt the idiot’s ribcage. James locked eyes on his pained gaze saying, “And Bunny’s my fiancé. I could care less whose sack you were sprayed from but don’t you ever dream to think you deserve to be in the same campus let alone room as her. You are not her equal, and will never be her superior. She is not property or there to be some imagined plaything to an ignorant prick on legs like you. There are going to be rules if you do get allowed back to school, and you are going to follow those rules or we will not hesitate to put you in the ground.”

James’ hand pulled back and Victor’s free hand shifted to lift his hand with about a pound of braces, tape and bandages wrapped around his injured finger in hopes to keep it in order until the best surgeon could get to the hospital after being flown in by his dad. Victor smirked saying, “Definitely did a number on his finger. Can’t wait to see it when they get done trying to patch it back together.”

Eddie drew closer cutting his next slew of muffled curses off, saying, “Since they’re going to need to prep you for surgery soon, and we do hope you pull through, we really do. Rules are, you will respect each and every female on campus you come across both in person and to their backs with your friends. You are going to be the best role model for how to be a perfect gentleman and never give another female any inclination you are anything of a threat to them either verbally or physically.”

James said, “Which, lets face it, you’ll have broken those rules within a week, easy.”

Victor added in an amused tone, “Then we get to kill you.”

He cursed at them again and Eddie said, “You so much as speak to Bunny outside the grounds of class work or come within touching distance I will tear you apart and feed you to a creature like you’ve never seen before.”

Victor drew his hand back patting Brent on the shoulder, “I look forward to murdering you.”

Brent scoffed wheezing back, “My dad will have you three buried under Alcatraz for threatening me! You and that little-,”

Venom at that leapt out hissing with teeth bared paling the rigid wide eyed man now under the beast pinning his body down drooling in anticipation of eating him, “Pathetic fleshling, do not dare insult or threaten Venom’s sister again!” Oozing more droplets of drool around Brent’s face and neck that seeped into his skin.

James, “Like we said, follow the rules or we’ll slice you up and feed you to Venom here.”

Victor, “Stay away from Bunny, don’t talk to Bunny. Be a perfect gentlemen to any and all women you come across, because we so much as hear you have been joking about any female on campus, we’ll kill you. So go ahead and tell daddy, and he’ll get a visit from us too. Rest up, big surgery ahead.”

James let out a growling exhale and turned with Venom once he’d leapt from the bed upon stealing another guttural growl to the trembling man underneath him. Sliding the curtain back enough to pass by at Venom seeping back into Eddie’s skin, then exit into the hall for the walk out again for the front exit catching sight of daddy Farley on the phone at the Nurse’s station confirming the flight for the surgeon was still on time.

Back on the subway train the trio grinned after having spent the walk back in silence, James proudly said, “I felt at least four broken ribs, ones around them were cracked.”

Victor smirked saying, “He’s going to lose mobility in that finger. There’s no repairing those knuckles with surgery.”

Eddie said, “We need to get extra candy and popcorn for Jaqi.”

James sighed with grin drooping in saying, “I promised her she’d be safe. And second day she gets groped.”

Victor laid a hand on his back knowing the trio had all promised the same thing, “We’ll kill them all if we have to. Eventually someone will grow a brain.”

Thoughts on how to bolster your mood were shared all the way back and to the theater where they grinned finding you smiling in conversation with Dawn and a woman they didn’t recognize beside Dave who nodded to the trio acknowledging their return. “See you made it back in one piece.”

Eddie nodded, “Nothing past a good chat.” He replied with eyes locked on yours mentally confirming that Brent was very much alive when they left.

James strolled around the group nestling against your back draping his arms around your waist comforting himself until he could take you home to cuddle up in bed and he could try to promise anything possible in a try to bolster your trust in him to protect you. His eyes in the stroke of your hands up his forearms shifted to the blonde grinning adoringly at the embrace, “Norma Jeane, this is my James. And Eddie of course on the other side of James’ brother Victor.”

“Hello,”

Eddie nodded asking, “Do you go to Barnard too?”

Norma Jeane shook her head replying, “Oh no. I’m a model, and I just got signed to 20th Century Fox. Out here for acting courses and some new headshots.”

Victor glanced from the clock on the wall after the conversation had held on a while, saying, “We should head get the snacks, Bardot or Lassie, Miss Jeane?”

Grinning at him she answered, “Bardot, already watched Lassie. Did you enjoy it?”

Victor, “Haven’t seen either yet, but you’re welcome to sit by us if you like.” Offering his elbow to the close to blushing blonde who joined you all gladly to the snack line and then into the theater. There she sat down between Victor and yourself with Eddie and Dawn on the other side of Victor seated beside the freshly met bombshell. Upon returning home again traded numbers with you to keep in touch while in town and hopefully plan another get together possibly on your next weekend off once the guys had convinced her into the taxi hailed and paid for her to keep safe on the way back.

Around the table you moved setting it for supper, only to feel arms loop around your waist and with a grin let James ease you down onto his lap for cuddles to Eddie’s turn in the kitchen with Dawn while Victor handled Teddy’s feeding after Ambrose had brought him home again. Into your shoulder and cheek his head nuzzled earning a tilt of yours into his cheek and hands to ease up over the arms crossed around your belly. “Are you going to make me stay home?”

“No.” He muttered reluctantly, “If you would like to go back I will not stop you.”

“I love you,” you said turning your head to kiss his cheek triggering his arms to tighten more.

“I love you more. Just wish we had a safer world for you.”

“You’re here, I’m safe now. You and Kitty make sure of that.” His head lifted finally revealing his crumbling battle of holding back tears from this stain on his otherwise untarnished record of keeping jerks away from you. On the tip of his nose your lips landed and you said shifting to wrap your arms around his neck closing his eyes again to melt into the embrace threatening to draw tears from you as well from the formerly unexpressed fear and anger you had been holding in all day. “This is not on your record,” his heart skipped as if you had read the pain throbbing in their hearts making Victor wet his quivering lips and then his own focus to Teddy who was ready to tear up in confusion for their behavior. “You went to go and not kill the guy I nearly killed. So let’s think of better things, Hmm? Like how Miss Norma Jeane couldn’t take her eyes off of Kitty.”

That had the baby holding man behind you grinning to himself pretending he wasn’t smiling at that by focusing on Teddy. Even James had to grin knowing his brother had enjoyed the pretend date and beautiful woman he got to escort on his arm for the stroll through the theater and out again. You both looked to Victor who looked at you as you said, “You would have beautiful babies.”

He chuckled shaking his head and came to sit by you, “Miss Jeane is an actress, she could have any guy she wants. Stay at home uncle won’t tempt her.”

“Hey,” You said poking him in the arm making him chuckle, “That’s my brother you’re putting down.” Locking his eyes to yours with a spreading grin, “We’ll just have to call her over for a dinner and you’ll see how she draped on your arm when possible.”

“I was the only single guy,” you pointed at him and he rolled his eyes looking to Teddy, “She was indescribable.” He sighed out making you grin and stroke his arm, “One dinner, and you’ll see she’ll have some fella she wants to bring along she’s just met.”

Faking a gasp she said, “But she just met a fella,” making his cheeks rise on his sheepish grin in your lean to rest your head on his arm batting your lashes up at him, “who makes the most delectable meals to keep her well fed.”

He shook his head in a chuckle and James said, “One dinner, to start, who knows how it will go, last dame we met who was a stunner turned out to be spectacular.” Gaining a hopeful chuckle from the man a bit too timid to believe he could ever be ready to think about dating or ever possibly having a wife or baby again.

Leaning in you kissed his cheek saying, “She hurts you I’ll tear out every last blonde hair from her head.” Making him laugh along with James.

“I wanna laugh,” Eddie said grinning in bringing in the first of the food with Dawn beside him who leaned in to kiss Teddy and take hold of him at his arms lifting for her to do so widening her smile. “What’s funny?”

“Just talking about Miss Norma Jeane,”

Dawn grinned saying, “Oh, such as how she laughed at Victor’s poor joke on the dancing popcorn? She’s smitten, you know that.”

Eddie, “Seems genuine from what I could see, unlike that brunette last week in shopping who tried to invite herself along to meet Bunny.”

Dawn nodded, “I mean since Bunny broke the scowls off you two even I’d say you were catching to the eye, many a lady back home has said the same. Give any actor a good run for their money and besides if she ever needs a hideaway we’ve got Canada.”

Victor rumbled, “One dinner, no talks of taking her home yet.” Standing to help with the food stirring up agreeing nods from the group behind his back. James had the biggest grin, he was willing to risk it all again so he might have you and more than ecstatic the same impossible creature who breathed life into him had done the same with his equally as battered brother.

Dinner held distracting topics while the food and drinks were enjoyed to Teddy’s napping in his pen in the living room to be taken upstairs for bed along with his parents. Almost as if all was forgotten, until you got upstairs. Tender and sweet from aiding your undressing once stripped himself gentle kisses across your cheeks and lips James kissed and carried you to bed. Lingering back in the safe mattress and cover fort where no one but you could be and to your sleeping self he whispered more promises to gut the man who dared touch you. Prayers to sleepy grumbles in complaint from not being able to watch over you while you slept at his body’s wish to sleep soundly like you, soon he was gone to the world and cuddling closer.

“Bunny,”

“Mmm,” With your head underneath James’ chin pressed to his chest the sound of Eddie’s voice pulled you from your slumber.

“Messenger for you.”

“Ugh,” you groaned out asking, “Why me?”

Eddie chuckled saying, “From Truman, looks official.”

“If he complains about our venue one more time I’m uninviting him.”

James chuckled helping to ease you to the end of the bed where you huffed grabbing your robe sighing at the sounding of your alarm once turned off left the room silent. Tugging on a shirt behind you James followed curious what it was about. To the door you went and from the grinning suited messenger there you signed for the letter and embossed invitation. The invitation for one of the most lavish upscale venues in Manhattan the weekend after next, the letter included once opened read from Truman’s daughter who wished to take you and Dawn shopping as well as Victor’s date for the evening for gowns for the meeting of great minds and leaders of men. The reason for your invitation being your expertise in magnets shared with Eddie on his mechanics field and the brothers for engineering.

Victor asked from the staircase, “Who was it?”

Turned around you sighed out, “Truman invited us to a fancy dinner. Apparently it got moved last minute from Washington, for who knows why, and his daughter wants to take me, Dawn and your date shopping Saturday.”

Victor, “Date?”

James chuckled saying, “It says they’re expecting you to have a date.”

Victor rolled his eyes as you said, “I bet I know who will be free.”

Pointing at you he shifted his hand to keep his finger raised, “I said one dinner, this will be that dinner.”

He turned trying to ignore you smirk and whisper to a melody to Eddie, “As if we won’t eat Saturday.” Making him chuckle and turn to the kitchen as you walked back to the stairs to get ready.

Pt 31

#James Howlett x Reader OC #Eddie Brock x OC #Venom #Victor Creed #Norma Jeane #Spilled the Beans #Out for Blood #threats #Death threats #Invitation for Dinner

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rwdestuffs · 3 years

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The show as a whole, and this blog moving forward.

Nothing is perfect.

Literally nothing. Take your favorite series. A comic book, a video game, a movie, television show, a manga series, or a book series, and you’ll eventually find someone who says that there was a problem with it.

Nothing is total garbage either. Take your least favorite series, and you’ll eventually come across someone who took valuable and good lessons from it.

Take TeamFourStar for example. On multiple occasions, they have made fun of Dragonball and have criticized decisions made by Akira Toriyama. This is despite them being huge fans of the franchise as a whole. They acknowledge that what they like isn’t perfect, and they’re not afraid to point out the flaws in it.

Or take anyone who covers a franchise. They’ll find flaws and behind the scenes things that, to the average viewer, they wouldn’t have realized was a thing.

Now, the inner workings and behind the scenes issues at RoosterTeeth is another topic for someone far more qualified than me, but there are many problems within the company that affect the show, RWBY, as a whole. For example, their rather blatant frat-like environment and professionalism makes for a bad understanding of major topics like abuse, trauma, and discrimination. Not counting their many associations with predators, these guys have had a bad track record with their hires.

But a major problem with the show, and by extension, the company, is an unwillingness to acknowledge their past mistakes and lack of attempts to make up for them to ensure that they wouldn’t happen again.

Take the racism issue within the show. Miles openly claims that the reason is sucks so bad is because he’s a white guy. But then his fans defend him by saying that he’s half Mexican. Add to the fact that we have no real proof that Miles is actually talking to minorities about how discrimination works, and that they kinda dropped the whole racism arc after Blake and Yang killed Adam, the show… has no reason for that whole thing anymore.

Now, I get it. They had a few reasons to add racism to their show despite them being awful at portraying it, and the negativity it brings. One was that they just wanted to say “don’t be a dick to people who look different from you.” and the other is basically to have an issue that wasn’t tied to the grimm (I hope. If it turns out that Salem is responsible for the racism, the show is basically irredeemable at that point in regards to that particular subplot, and nobody is allowed to invalidate any Person of Color’s feelings on the subject). The issue was that they didn’t want to get uncomfortable with the whole thing. They didn’t want to deal with the heavy subjects. So, instead of actually showing the racism, they merely talked about it.

Slave labor, cave-ins, a lack of respect- none of that was shown. All we got was generic bullying, which ultimately made the White Fang look as if they were dishing out retribution for minor offenses. This wasn’t a good look.

Other media have done racism better, even fantasy racism was better portrayed by the X-Men. So to see that RWBY, a show made by nerds botched it that badly?- It hurts. It hurts a lot.

Now, yes. There are also other media that have been absolute garbage when it came to racism, even the fantasy kind. I’m not aware of any off the top of my head, but I think one that did it pretty poorly would be Star Wars. Mostly in regards to their droids. We don’t really see any major repercussions about how they’re treated on Tatooine, and it’s kinda dropped. Luke even tries to trade R2 and C3PO to Jabba, and doesn’t do it in person. Anakin treated his droids better. The emotionally unstable guy who ultimately became the emperor’s attack dog was the least racist person, at least in regards to droids, in the galaxy by the time the OT came by.

So is that it? A really big, famous, and successful franchise did racism worse?

No. That’s not it. Because like I said, take your favorite movie, and you’ll find someone who has an issue with it.

The same applies to RWBY. This show had so much going for it. For starters, nobody else has been as successful with something like this. A fully animated series with a major overarching plot that is produced completely by an internet company.

So, expectations were high. And when the show failed to deliver, it hurt.

We had characters that were great, but who had interesting character traits dropped for unknown reasons. Ruby’s obsession with weapons was unceremoniously dropped for no real reason. Like HBomb said in his overall review of the show, if there was an arc where Ruby and Jaune were to develop a new weapon together, and that in the future, we’d see it in action and that it would include all the fancy tech of the other weapons while still staying true to the weapon it was, that would have been really great and awesome to see.

But instead… We get… Jaune having to cover for his cheating his way into Beacon. We get Jaune constantly harassing Weiss to go to the dance. We get Pyrrha thirsting after Jaune for… Reasons.

So many things in earlier seasons were dropped for reasons that don’t make sense.

At least with Weiss, they dropped her racism because “it doesn’t sell well.” And yes. That is what I’m assuming they dropped it for. They saw that Weiss sales weren’t as big as the other girls, so they dropped the racism altogether, and decided to say that she was against her father’s racism the whole time and wanted to better the company.

They could’ve had her say “It was easier to blame the Faunus instead of my father for what happened.” and that probably would have made everything feel more natural. Instead of acknowledging this mistake, the writers decided to drop it altogether and pretend that it never happened.

These guys have also portrayed major real life problems and showed them as jokes, or not as bad.

Take what Sun did for example. Because he decided to stow away on a boat and steal from a fruit stand for funsies, Weiss is actually justified in her rhetoric towards him. He did multiple illegal things in succession right in front of them! Sun didn’t steal because they wouldn’t serve him and it was the only way for him to get food, he didn’t stow away because the ticket guy assumed that he stole a legitimately purchased ticket, he did it for fun. Then he decided to stalk Blake after she had a breakdown and was in a lot of emotional turmoil. And… It’s apparently okay, because he cares about her.

For a character that they decided to say was the victim of abuse, they really didn’t seem to want to portray that as a problem until her abuser did it.

Yang thrashing the nightclub in her trailer?- Apparently not a good look for her to seem violent. So it gets dropped instead of being used as proof that she would attack Mercury unprovoked in volume 3. What’s the count on me pointing out how awesome that would have been again?

And instead of actually understanding the problem, they decided to have Tai make unfair comparisons to Raven, call her soul a “temper tantrum”, essentially say that it was a bad thing for her to rush in against Adam for because she wanted to save Blake (And then the show decides to reward Jaune for similar, albeit more selfish behavior), they decided to try and justify Tai’s comments after she was taught to “not be so hotheaded” and make her a hothead again, probably because a lot of people pointed out that Yang wasn’t really a hothead who never thought in earlier volumes. These guys decided to retroactively justify Tai’s comments, after said comments were supposed to fix the problem. Tai wasn’t even being a father in those scenes, he was being Miles’ mouthpiece.

And then there’s Oz.

Retroactively, I think I get what they’re trying to do. If everyone had known that going into the hunter business meant throwing your body at an immortal opponent, they probably wouldn’t apply to begin with. Nobody is prepared for that, and I think it’s important for people to understand that nobody is prepared for that, so that maybe we shouldn’t be so harsh in jumping at these characters’ throats for pointing that out. Yes, this is vaguing to someone in particular, but that’s not the point. The WoR on aura was narrated by Salem. Who should logically know by this point why Oz keeps coming back, as opposed to the WoR that sorta suggested that maybe reincarnation was his semblance.

In all honesty, it probably would’ve been cooler if it was, as opposed to some god saying “Hey, fix this problem that’s not really being a problem for me. I’m bored and I want to see a good soap opera.”

And really?- Naming your big bad villain after a time when women were falsely prosecuted? What?- Is the show trying to say that women that are abused will become villains and that they have to work through it on their own without a real support system or they’ll become villains that men have to be tasked with stopping? Sounds to me that the writers’ Texas education is seeping into the writing.

Instead of using the lore or characterization that was already established, the writers decided to just keep adding on instead of building on what they already had. Yang being a mother figure to Ruby?- Gone. Jaune wanting to prove that he could be a hero despite his lack of training and his bumbling attitude?- Also gone. Blake being a strong advocate for equality?- Gone. The many hints that Oz’s semblance is what allowed him to reincarnate?- See ya. The hints that Blake was missing one of, if not both of her parents?- Adios.

The writers didn’t really think through character dialogue. And that’s because they’re more used to using pre-established characters. Their last work was RvB’s Chorus Arc, where they had characters that were already characters. They didn’t need to build anything except for a few new ones that would bounce off of the old ones. Say what you want about RvB:Zero, but it actually made use of the new characters it established while only having them bounce off of one already established… And that season is basically just an excuse to make a bunch of cool fight scenes. Seriously. After each fight, I expect Wiz and Boomstick to show up and explain to the audience how and why the fight went the way it did. Then again, that might have to do with their most famous animator animating and being part of the directing process of the current season, but I digress.

The writers aren’t professional. They’ve established this. They’ve also unceremoniously ditched the people closest to Monty. You’d think that after his death, they would’ve reached out to Sheena and said something like “Hey, I know we’re all going through a rough time, but do you want to work with us on this? You were close to Monty, and we think that he would’ve loved for you to be on board with the process.”

But no. She gets shut out, as does Shane. As does a lot of other people close to him.

And then more shit gets piled up, and more problems become more noticeable.

This didn’t feel like a passion project anymore, it felt more like another IP for them to make a profit off of. Hence why we didn’t get any major sexuality reveals until recently (as of me writing this). These guys want to profit as much as they can, and while I understand that they need to have money to put food on the table, dragging out things isn’t the way to go. Neither is rushing past things. The pacing feels off. Nothing feels like it’s going at appropriate speeds anymore, and more and more questionable decisions keep popping up.

Like… Why is Penny’s father a person of color when she’s white?- There’s so many implications behind that that it hurts. Could’ve made them both white.

Why is Ironwood’s semblance basically a neurodivergent aspect of the brain that is effectively the reason why he’s going full dictator? (Personally, if they had kept Ruby’s weapons obsession, that could have worked as a positive representation of what I’m assuming is ADHD as opposed to Ironwood’s very blatant negative portrayal).

Why wasn’t Yang’s lack of faith in Ruby better built up?- It feels like it came out of nowhere, and while I am glad that at least someone is questioning Ruby, and that I’m also kinda glad that it’s someone close to her so that Ruby does have to reflect on it, it… Kinda came up out of nowhere. This could’ve been something she discussed with Blake, but I guess that wasn’t important enough.

The writers don’t really think ahead on a lot of things. It feels like they only focus on the volume in front of them. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing if they also didn’t actively ignore what happened in prior volumes. Like I said: Yang wasn’t really that much of a hothead prior to Tai’s advice. If you want to take a singular instance of her being one as proof that that’s all she is, then I guess Obi-Wan is one too, since he sliced off somene’s arm in A New Hope, and that apparently, nobody wanted to mess with the guy wielding a lightsaber, so nobody tried to confront him outside of Imperial soldiers.

The writers don’t look back on the past, and they don’t look towards the future. They only see the present that’s in front of him. To be honest, it feels like they took the wrong message from Master Oogway’s famous “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift… That is why we call it ‘the present,’“ That quote isn’t to say that one should disregard the past and ignore the future. It means to realize what happened in the past is in the past and that you can learn from it, realize that you can’t control the future because it hasn’t happened yet, and that you can do your best right now to improve the future.

The biggest reason why the rwde tag dwells constantly on past moments is because the writers refuse to learn from them. The writers make the same mistakes, and it’s only when fan outcry is loud enough that they realize it’s a mistake. But they won’t take the time to understand why it was a mistake, they’ll only say “Oh hey, this was a mistake.”

Take Jaune’s screentime for example. Evidently, there was enough outcry about it that Miles no longer likes writing him anymore, but the writers themselves failed to realize why Jaune’s screentime was a mistake.

Jaune’s screentime and development came at the expense of other characters. Other characters that could have also developed alongside him if the writers were smart. Take the whole “Jaune cheated his way in” thing for example. Ruby only got in because of nepotism, if she had found out, then they could both bond and grow from the shared belief that they didn’t deserve to be there on their own merits. It would still be a problem that Jaune got to cheat his way in without repercussions but it would develop the first letter in the title, and Jaune at the same time (and again, my idea that his hero ancestors got him in via nepotism is still there. The writers still have time to retcon it by saying that the parents bribed Jaune’s way in, and that Jaune basically cheated his way in for nothing).

Or take Jaune unlocking his semblance as another example. Aside from fact that this moment is the scene that will forever taint Volume 5 in my eyes as the worst volume ever (Jaune charging Cinder and getting to unlock his semblance because Weiss got impaled because Jaune couldn’t control his revenge boner while Yang charging Adam ends with her being belittled and losing an arm because she wanted to save Blake), that scene could have gone way better. Instead of Weiss, have it be Ren, Nora, or Ruby. Ren had finished up an arc last volume, and given the precedent set by Pyrrha, once a member of team JNPR finishes an arc, they die, Ren being impaled would have put viewers on the edge of their seats. Weiss being impaled doesn’t do that, as she still has many more arcs to go through, and is a title character. Nora is hardly a character, and was certainly a viable target, especially since she was a hard counter to what Hazel was doing. Taking her out would have also made sense because then the main team loses one of their major advantages over the evil team. And finally, Ruby being impaled would have made sense from a character perspective. Considering that Cinder was all “I want revenge on Ruby” the whole volume and the one before it, her targeting Ruby would have made sense. In fact, the whole fight could have been Cinder being largely dismissive towards Jaune and treating him as more of an obstacle to her target for revenge than her just toying with him because she has to have sadist tendencies™.

The writers got that Jaune’s screentime and moments of character development were a problem, but they neglected to understand why it was a problem.

And instead of acknowledging this mistake, they instead decided to bury it, and not acknowledge it at all.

Acknowledging a mistake is better than pretending that the mistake didn’t happen in the first place.

The rabid defenders need to realize that this series isn’t perfect. There are flaws in it. Undoubtedly, if there was another series that had similar, or the same issues as RWBY did, those defenders would call it out, not realizing that the show they defend so fervently, has the same or similar ones.

And the haters need to realize that this show isn’t as flawed as it is. A similar situation as the above would probably take place. Another series has similar, or the same good moments as RWBY does, and they’d probably praise it, despite those same moments being in the show that they hate so much.

So what does this mean for this blog?

It means that this blog isn’t going to be dedicated to simply hating on the show, or blindly praising it. When credit is due, it will be given. When criticism is due, it will be given. This blog is still being run by one guy, and it’s probably going to stay that way.

Nobody’s perfect, not me. Not you. Not the writers.

And similarly, nobody is the physical incarnation of failure. Not me. Not you. Not the writers.

No matter how it feels, we’re all still human. And we all deserve to grow as critics, as writers, as artists, as friends, as family members, as community members, and as people.

Even if it feels like the crew have been given every opportunity to grow as writers, they still deserve all the other opportunities.

Would it be nice if they acknowledged their past fuck-ups and apologized for them?- Yes of course.

Would it be nice to actually see growth from them rather than them just trying to claim that they did?- Duh.

But we’re all human beings.

And in all honesty, I’m tired of hating on the things I can’t control. Hate is one part off of the path to the Dark Side.

Maybe I should do a Star Wars post soon, what with how I referenced it so often here… Who knows?- Maybe this can be more than just a RWBY criticism blog.

#rwde #rwby

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my-lady-knight · 3 years

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Favorite Reads of 2020

I take back everything I said last year about how 2019 was a comparatively bad reading year for me. 2020 was even worse. I only read 48 books, I could barely focus on reading even when I did find a book I liked, and, just like last year, I ended up with fewer favorites than usual. Starting in August I’ve been having trouble reading any written media that isn’t TOG fic. And some of my eagerly awaited releases by favorite authors ended up being disappointments (Deeplight by Frances Hardinge and Phoenix Extravagant by Yoon Ha Lee).

2020—the year that keeps on giving.

I sincerely hope 2021 will be a better year in all respects, including my reading habits, but, as with everything else, who knows.

Regardless, here’s my list of favorite reads of 2020, in chronological order of when I read them:

Network Effect by Martha Wells

I’d read the first four Murderbot Diaries novellas when they first came out and enjoyed them, but I didn’t fall head-over-heels in love with them. Maybe because they were novellas, and too short to get fully invested? Possibly. As it turns out, Network Effect is the novel-length fifth entry in the Murderbot Diaries that turned me into full-on squeeing fan—SecUnit, aka Murderbot, continues to be its delightfully acerbic, antisocial self, SPOILER makes another appearance and oh how I’d missed this character, the supporting cast is fun and endearing, and the novel-length story means there’s time and space for the brand-new corporate espionage/colonization/alien civilization murder mystery to unfold and spread its wings. (Sounds like a Sanctuary Moon plot tbh). SecUnit is possibly my favorite non-human fictional character atm, and I am now fully on-board for every and any new story in the series.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

When I first heard about this book and read the words “time travel romance”, I immediately went, “Nope, not gonna read.” I don’t like reading time travel stories, and honestly, I was imagining it to be something like The Time Traveler’s Wife, which granted I haven’t read but also sounds like it’d be the opposite of my cup of tea.

And then I went to a reading where Amal and Max took turns reading chapters – letters written by Red and Blue, enemy agents who repeatedly taunt and thwart the other’s plans to ensure their side is the one to win the time war and who can’t resist smugly outlining just how they’re staying one step ahead of the other – and the prose was witty and gorgeous and clever and intricate, and Red and Blue were snarky and arrogant and talented and fun. I had to read it. And I ended up loving it, this enemies-to-lovers story that is a meld of fantasy and science fiction such that they’re indistinguishable from the other, where the past is as equally fantastical and alien and imaginary as the future, where Red and Blue’s power play transforms into something different and scarier and more intimate than either of them imagined.

To Be Taught, If Fortunate by Becky Chambers

Becky Chambers has done it again, writing a gentle, hopeful story about humans working together out of a share a love and fascination for scientific exploration and wonder for all the possibilities the entirety of space can hold. With the advent of both space travel and technology that alters human physiology to allow them to survive otherwise inhospitable environments, a team of four astronauts and scientists have embarked on a mission to ecologically survey four distant planets and the life forms that inhabit them, from the microscopic to the multicellular—not to conquer, but to record and to learn and to share the gathered knowledge with the rest of Earth. In the meantime, lightyears away, Earth is going through decades without them, and the four of them must also contend with a planet that may have forgotten their existence—or that’s abandoned the entire space and scientific exploration program.

Reading Becky Chambers is the literary equivalent of sitting down with a warm mug of my favorite tea on a bad day – I always feel better at the end and like I can imagine a future where humanity does all the wonderful things we’re capable of doing.

A Song for a New Day by Sarah Pinsker

I started reading this book right as NYC was gearing up to go into lockdown, which should have made this a terrible choice to continue reading since part of the premise is that a combo of multiple stochastic terror attacks and a brand-new, deadly plague upend the world as everyone knows it by causing the U.S. to pass laws that keep people physically apart in public for their own safety and make concerts, theatre, and any other kind of artistic gathering obsolete.

But that’s largely just the set-up, and the real story is that of Luce Cannon, an up-and-coming singer-songwriter who played the last major concert in the before times who twenty years later performs in illegal underground concerts, and Rosemary, a younger music-lover who’s only lived in the after-times, and who’s taken a new job scouting out talent to add to the premier virtual entertainment company’s roster of simulated concerts.

It’s a love letter to live music and what it feels like to connect and build community via music in unusual and strange and scary times, the energy involved in making music for yourself, for an audience, exploring the world around you, imagining and advocating for a better tomorrow, and embracing the fear, the possibility, and the power of change, both good and bad. This was the book I needed to read at the beginning of the pandemic, and I’m thankful I ended up doing so.

The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2019 edited by John Joseph Adams and Carmen Maria Machado

When I end up loving half of the stories in an anthology and greatly enjoying all but two of the rest, that’s the equivalent of a literary blue moon for me. My favorites included the following;

"Pitcher Plant" by Adam-Troy Castro

"Six Hangings in the Land of Unkillable Women" by Theodore McCombs

"Variations on a Theme from Turandot" by Ada Hoffmann

"Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Memphis Minnie Sing the Stumps Down Good" by LaShawn M. Wanak

"The Kite Maker" by Brenda Peynado

"The Secret Lives of the Nine Negro Teeth of George Washington" by P. Djèlí Clark

"Dead Air" by Nino Cipri

"Skinned" by Lesley Nneka Arimah

"Godmeat" by Martin Cahill

"On the Day You Spend Forever with Your Dog" by Adam R. Shannon

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

No one is more surprised than me that Harrow is on this list, given that I am one of approximately three people in the universe who did not unequivocally love Gideon the Ninth.

And yet the sequel worked for me.

Maybe because this time I already knew and was used to the way the world and the Houses worked, and I knew to not take anything I read for granted because I could be guaranteed to have the rug pulled out from under me without even realizing. Maybe Harrow’s countdown/amnesia mystery worked better for me than Gideon’s locked room mystery. Maybe the cast of characters was more manageable and fewer of them were getting murdered left and right before I got a chance to get used to them (and some of them even came back!) Maybe it’s that Harrow blew open the potential and possibilities Gideon hinted at and capitalized on just how fucking weird and mind-blowing the whole premise is in a way that felt incredibly and viscerally satisfying.

Also SPOILER happens three-quarters of the way through. That was pretty fucking awesome.

Ring Shout by P. Djèlí Clark

P. Djélí Clark is a master of melding history and fantasy in ways that are in turn imaginative and clever (his fantastical alternate-history, early 20th-century Egyptian novel A Master of Djinn is one of the books I’m most looking forward to in 2021), while also using fantasy to be frank and incisive about the history of American antiblack racism (as in the above linked story in The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2019). Ring Shout combines the late-nineteenth and early 20th-century history of the rise and normalization of the KKK with Lovecraftian supernatural horror, in which the release of The Birth of a Nation summoned literal monsters (called Ku Kluxes) that became part of the KKK’s ranks. Maryse Boudreaux is a Black woman who’s part of a grassroots organization hunting both the monsters and the human members in order to keep the Klan at bay. However, there’s soon to be another summoning ritual atop Stone Mountain that will unleash even more Ku Kluxes into the world, and Maryse and her friends are running out of time to prevent it from happening.

Maryse is a fantastic character, as are her two friends—brash, unapologetic Sadie and WWI veteran, weapons expert Chef—her mentor and leader of the Ring Shout group Nana Jean, and all the other members of the group who work and fight together as a team and a family. Maryse’s past and the journey she goes on in the book to uncover the truth and stop the summoning is harrowing and heart-stopping, the supernatural elements are both horrific in and of themselves while also undergirding the real-life horror of the KKK and the hatred they engender. It’s smart, it’s fun, it’s eye-opening, and it’s also being turned into a TV show starring KiKi Layne. It’s really, really good.

The Light Brigade by Kameron Hurley

“Stick to the brief.” This is the maxim given to Dietz and all the other soldiers who join the war against Mars, where soldiers are broken down into light to travel to and from their assigned battlefields instantaneously. Only Dietz isn’t experiencing the jumps like everyone else – Dietz, like Billy Pilgrim in Slaughterhouse-Five, has become unstuck in time and is experiencing all the battles in the mission briefs out of chronological order, to the point that Dietz starts to build a picture of a war and a reality that’s been sold to Dietz and everyone else on Earth as pure fiction.

I’ve always appreciated Kameron Hurley’s stories, but this is the first book where she fully succeeded at writing the book she set out to write—it’s fast-paced science fiction thriller in the form of a loaded gun that takes brutal aim at late-stage capitalism, modern military warfare and the dehumanization of everyone involved on all sides, the greed of ungovernable governing corporations, nationalistic and military propaganda, the mythology of citizenship and inalienable rights, and it’s viscerally bloody and violent without being grotesque in the way all of Kameron Hurley’s books are. Especially important for me, I loved that Dietz went through the entire book not being gendered in any way, shape, or form (those last five pages didn’t exist, what are you talking about), and I love in general that Kameron Hurley is committed to writing non-male characters who aren’t less violent or fucked-up or morally superior to men just because they’re not men.

Other Words for Home by Jasmine Warga

Middle grade is a hard sell for me these days, as are books in verse, and I wouldn’t have known this book existed if it weren’t for the Ignyte Award nomination list earlier this year. As it turns out, this book, the story of Jude, a pre-teen girl who wants to be an actress who leaves Syria and the encroaching civil war with her mom to go live in the U.S. with her uncle and his white wife and their daughter while her dad and older brother stay behind, is full of beauty, curiosity, humor, confusion, grief, pain, and joy, and the poetic prose is both lyrical, nuanced, and perfectly fitted to Jude’s voice. I devoured this book in one day, which is the quickest amount of time it took me to read any book this year, including novellas.

Darius the Great Deserves Better by Adib Khorram

The first book Darius the Great Is Not Okay was one of my favorite books in 2018, and I’m ecstatic that the sequel is equally as amazing.

It’s been approximately half a year since Darius went to Iran, met his maternal grandparents in person for the first time, and found his best friend in Sohrab, and in that time he’s come out as gay, joined the soccer team, got an internship at his favorite tea shop, and started dating for the first time. Darius is also working through some things though—when and if he wants to have sex with his boyfriend, his grandfather’s worsening illness, his dad’s recent depressive episode, his emotionally distant paternal grandmothers on his coming for an extended stay, the fact that he’s getting to know and growing closer with one of his teammates who’s best friends with Darius’s years-long bully, and a bunch else.

Darius the Great Deserves Better has the same tender and vulnerable emotional intimacy as the first book, more conversations over tea, new instances involving the mortifying ordeal of being a cis guy with a penis, even more Star Trek metaphors, and so much growth for Darius as he works through a lot of hard situations and feelings, and strengthens his relationships with all of the people in his life he loves and cares about. I can’t think of any other book that’s like these two books, and I love and treasure them dearly.

The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson

I had zero awareness of this book until a bunch of SFF authors started praising it on Twitter a couple months before the release date, and I was intrigued enough to get a copy from the library. I loved this book. I happened to be reading it right at the time of the presidential election, and it phenomenally served the purpose of desperately-needed distraction from the agony of waiting out the ballot counts.

It’s book about the power behind borders, citizenship, exploitation, and imperialism, set in a late-late-stage capitalist future, in which a prodigy invented the means to access and travel to slightly divergent parallel universes to grab resources and data – but only if the other universe’s version of “you” isn’t there. It’s the story of a woman named Cara – poor, brown, born in the wastelands outside the shelter, security, and citizenship privileges of Wiley City – who’s comfortably employed to travel to all the parallel worlds no one else can visit, because all her counterparts in those worlds are dead from one of the myriad ways Cara herself could have died growing up. It’s the story of Cara traversing the muddied boundaries between her old life and her new one, the similarities and differences between her own life and that of her counterparts, as well as the figures of power who defined and shaped her and her counterparts’ existences, and solving a mystery involving the unexplained deaths of several of her counterparts and the man who invented multiverse technology.

It’s a story of the permeability of selfhood and self-determination, and complexity of power dynamics of all kinds – interpersonal, familial, collegial, intimate – and the interplay between violence and stability and identity, and how one can be both powerful and powerless in the same dynamic. It’s a story with literary sensibilities that is unequivocally science fiction, written with laser-precise prose that flays Cara open and puts her back together again.

I worry this description makes this book sound dry and removed when reading this book made me feel like I was coming alive every time I delved back into it. This is a book I cannot wait to reread again to experience the brilliance and skill and thoughtfulness and emotion of Micaiah Johnson’s writing. I have no clue what, if anything, she’s writing next, but I have a new favorite author.

Honorable Mentions

Catfishing on CatNet by Naomi Kritzer

With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo

The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo

Stormsong by C. L. Polk

The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin

Sisters of the Vast Black by Lina Rather

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh

The Haunting of Tram Car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke (I feel bad putting it here and not in the first list – it is undeniably a modern classic and a brilliantly crafted book! But I had zero interest in any of the Italy chapters, and I found the way he finally figured out how to access fairy magic by essentially making himself mad to be both disappointing and narratively unsatisfying.)

War Girls by Tochi Onyebuchi

For my yearly stats on books written by POC authors, in 2020 I read a total of 24 books (one of which was co-authored by a white author), which is fewer than last year (30). However, because I also read fewer books this year overall, this is the first year ever that I achieved exactly 50-50 parity between books written by POC and white authors. I honestly wasn’t expecting this to happen, as I stopped paying deliberate attention somewhere around April or May. Looking over my Goodreads, the month of September ended up doing a lot of heavy lifting, since that’s when I read several books by POC authors in a row for the Ignyte Award nomination period. But also, it does look like the five or so years of purposefully aiming for 50-50 parity have materially affected my reading habits, by which I mean even when I’m not keeping my year’s count in mind, I’m still more likely to pick up a book by a POC author than I was five years ago when I had never kept track at all. My goal for next year is to once again achieve 50-50 parity and to not backslide.

#long post #book recommendations #book recs #favorite books of 2020

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saint-hildegard-of-bingen · 5 years

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Nizhóní (Nee-zhon-ee) One quote one shot book 2

So much gratitude to @balfeheughlywed and @notevenjokingfic for their work and efforts organizing this one shot one quote. My story is set in the beautiful southwestern US, an area where I spent four years studying and working with the Navajo. I am indebted to them for teaching me many life lessons. When I most recently visited the southwest, in October 2018, I felt inspired to write an OL fanfic set among the multi-layered beauty and culture of northern New Mexico and Arizona. The photos are (1) the area where I imagined this story taking place (you might spot me in the photo), and (2) the beloved Navajo woman who taught me about weaving (photo used with her permission). I extend special thanks to my dear friend @notevenjokingfic for her beta expertise! My assigned quote is in bold italics near the end of the story.

She knew it could happen. She just never believed it would happen. What young woman imagines herself newly pregnant and widowed at age 25?

But that is indeed the reality Claire Beauchamp Randall found herself in, shortly after she and her husband Frank became homesteaders in the New Mexico territory, in 1872. Frank’s death came suddenly, following an accident that occurred while he was cutting down a tree. Unbeknownst to him, the tree had several dead branches, one of which broke off with the first swing of his axe, knocking him forcefully to the ground. He never regained consciousness, and Claire surmised he had suffered an injury to his brain.

Screaming and running, she had no idea how she arrived at the nearest homestead. Out of breath, and barely able to get the words out, she fell into the outstretched arms of her neighbor. Glenna and Charles Fitzgibbons, the Scots couple who befriended her from the day she and Frank arrived, brought her into their home and she poured out the whole story. While Frank never warmed to them, Claire knew from the first they were the kind of neighbors one always hoped to have; they were reliable, generous, friendly, and they knew everyone in the area, having arrived in New Mexico territory fifteen years earlier.

Several hours later, Claire felt strong enough to return to her homestead. While Glenna helped her prepare the body for burial, Charles dug the grave. Glenna had done this before, and her gentle strength enabled Claire to bear her jumbled thoughts and emotions.

“Claire, are ye thinking of returning tae England?” Glenna asked, her loving and compassionate voice reminding Claire of how grateful she was for such a friend.

“I have nothing there, really,” Claire starred off into the distance, her gaze settling on the red rock cliffs in the distance. “You know my parents and uncle are gone, and I have no other family. I do not even know what kind of life I would have there. And travel would be difficult for me with a baby coming. I have enough money to live on for now.” She spilled her heart out to Glenna, grateful to finally share her fears and anxieties with someone. Relief mixed with fear, sadness mixed with a sense of resignation.

So it was that just 2 years after arriving in the U.S., a mere 6 months after reaching Santa Fe following an arduous journey by covered wagon, and 3 months after settling on their land situated on the border of the New Mexico and Arizona territories, Claire found herself alone on the frontier.

When Frank made the decision for them to emigrate, they joined the unprecedented number of immigrants drawn to a new life in America, lured by the dream of economic prosperity and vast tracts of unspoiled land. While initially she found the idea of homesteading in the West foolish and reckless, after they arrived in western New Mexico, Claire relished the wide open spaces, endless horizon, and the landscape that seemed as though it was painted by a divine artist.

Frank wanted to make a name for himself, and he found prospects for doing so in England diminishing as he alienated himself from family, friends, and associates. Having read anthropology and history at Oxford, he initially imagined himself as a professor, but after hearing tales of the Indian Wars in the American west, and having a distant cousin who had joined the homesteaders, his sense of adventure led him to purchase tickets for the journey across the Atlantic.

That he only told Claire about it after the fact gave her heightened awareness of his total lack of regard for her preferences, feelings, and aspirations to further her work as a nurse and midwife. Having trained at St. Thomas Hospital and the Nightingale Training School for Nurses in London, Claire once imagined herself spending years working alongside the renowned staff at St. Thomas, even perhaps becoming actively engaged in the education of young nurses and midwives. But Frank’s decision to emigrate closed the door on her dream.

And now he was dead.

She faced the truth of her aloneness. While for some this truth may have felt harsh, for Claire it was an awakening of all she had hidden away in her heart. The previous day, Glenna and Charles visited and offered to take her to the trading post in Arizona. While there was a closer trading post in New Mexico, they preferred Fraser’s Trading Post in Arizona, telling Claire of their high regard for the proprietor, James Fraser, a Scotsman who was known far and wide for his kindness and fairness to the homesteaders, as well as to the Navajo and Apache.

“Come with us, Claire. It will do good to be away from here for a few days, to see a bit more of the area, and to learn your way there.” Eventually, Glenna persuaded her to join them. “Ye will be amazed at the variety of items at the trading post. Everything ye want and need, and then some!”

They left early the next morning, the journey to Fraser’s taking about four hours. When they arrived at midday, Claire noted how beautiful and orderly the Trading Post appeared, situated as it was along the southern banks of the Pueblo Colorado Wash.

“I have yet to see so many people in one place since we left St. Louis,” Claire reflected. “Is the whole territory here?”

“It seems Mr. Fraser attracts traders from as far away as California,” Charles informed her. “Folks seek out Fraser for his fair prices, as well as his uncanny ability to find whatever it is ye need. I have yet to leave the trading post disappointed.”

As she climbed down from the wagon, Claire noticed a tall man striding towards them, his air of confidence and warmth obvious even at first glance.

“Glenna, Charles, ’tis good tae see ye. And ye’ve brought a friend…” Jamie’s voice trailed off as his gaze settled on Claire. Even after a long ride through the dust and heat, her beauty captivated him.

Before Glenna or Charles could make proper introductions, Claire reached out for Jamie’s outstretched hand. “Claire, I’m Claire Randall.”

“Nizhóní,” Jamie said quietly, not realizing Claire overheard the word she assumed was Navajo. It dawned on Jamie that this was the widow of Frank Randall, the Englishman accidentally killed a few months earlier. “Mistress Randall, I extend my deepest sympathies. Ye’ve suffered a great loss.”

“Thank you, Mr Fraser.” Claire realized they were still clasping each other’s hand, and reluctantly pulled away, but not before she noticed the color of Jamie’s eyes, a shade of blue like the ocean.

Glenna broke the awkward silence, asking Jamie about news from Scotland.

“Well, ye ken the news is always about 3 months old by the time it gets here, but my sister has given birth to her second bairn, and the farm is doing well, so they cannae complain.”

The three Scots conversed amiably, and as they walked into the trading post, Claire found herself drawn in by Jamie’s attentiveness to everyone and everything going on around him.

As they moved through the various rooms of the store, Claire noticed the Navajo women effortlessly working their looms. By now, Navajo weavers were well known throughout the territory for the beauty and quality of their rugs and blankets.

One of the weavers caught Claire’s eye and smiled, the kind of smile that immediately puts one at ease. “I am Haseya.”

“I’m Claire. I have never seen anything quite as beautiful as your weaving.”

Haseya’s gaze rested on her work, as she reached for another strand of wool to add to the loom. She explained the design as well as the significance of the various colors. As Haseya talked, Claire knew Jamie was hovering nearby, and she felt uncharacteristically happy. She had not known happiness for such a long time, so the feeling startled her. Before she even realized it, she found herself asking Haseya about learning how to weave. The Navajo woman clasped Claire’s hand, and motioned for Jamie to join them.

“I have a student weaver,” Haseya stated in the direct, yet soft, manner characteristic of the Navajo.

Jamie’s heart leapt, as he realized Claire would be a frequent guest at the trading post. He knew that it was quite uncommon for a Navajo weaver to teach weaving to a non-Navajo, but Haseya was known to have great wisdom and insight, so he surmised she realized Claire needed something to actively engage her senses.

So it was that Claire became an apprentice to Haseya, learning all aspects of rug making, from carding and spinning the wool, to the intricacies of the patterns, to mixing the various plants and herbs used to make colors for dying

She traveled from the homestead to the trading post twice each month, initially making the journey with Glenna and Charles, but eventually felt comfortable making the trek alone, much to Glenna’s dismay.

“I will be fine, Glenna. I have to learn to make my way, and I want to learn as much as I can before the baby comes.”

Glenna acquiesced, realizing the futility of arguing with Claire. Her journeys through the red rock cliffs and wide canyons gave her a sense of peace and contentment. Rather than being fearful about traveling alone, she relished the time to think. While the baby was always foremost in her thoughts, Jamie Fraser was never far from her stream of consciousness. Each trip, she spent three or four days working side-by-side with Haseya, who, unbeknownst to Claire, was considered by the Navajo to be their most skilled weaver.

After working with Haseya during the day, Claire found Jamie waiting for her most evenings, eager to talk about the comings and goings at the trading post, but even more eager to hear about her progress as an apprentice weaver. “I dinna ken how ye do it, Claire. Keepin’ the colors straight, and the patterns bein’ so complicated.”

“Once you get the image of the pattern in your head, it is fairly simple. And I find that weaving is all encompassing. While I am weaving, I’ve no thought about what will become of me, or the baby. And I suppose I am grateful for that…” Claire’s voice trailed off.

Jamie smiled and reached for Claire’s hand. “My mam always quoted scripture to us, and one of her favorites was ‘Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?’”

Over the next few months, each evening during Claire’s visits, they walked and talked, oblivious to the late hour, sharing stories of days gone by, gazing up at the stars, comfortable with the occasional periods of silence. Claire shared her hopes to eventually resume her nursing and midwifery work, maybe working with the Navajo and Apache, as well as caring for the homesteaders.

“I ken ye well enough, Claire. You can do anything, and quite well, I might add.” He held her hand, accustomed as they were by now to being close to each other.

She found herself blushing at Jamie’s kind words. She was not accustomed to being praised. With Frank, there was near constant criticism, and disregard of her wishes.

Jamie reluctantly walked her back to the cabin she used during her visits, and almost before he realized it, he found himself saying, “I know ye havena been widowed so long, but life is different out here, and I ken propriety isna what it might be in England or Scotland. I would very much like to kiss ye, Claire. May I?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Claire turned toward him, her face lit up as though they were in bright sunlight. Frank never asked if he could kiss her. He always assumed that he was in complete control of their relationship.

“Yes, Jamie Fraser. Yes!”

And they both hoped and prayed that this was the first of a lifetime of kisses.

The next morning, while working in the weaving room, she told Jamie and Haseya that she would not be making the trek to the trading post for several months.

“I reckon the baby is due in about a month.” She felt her heart break as she watched Jamie’s face. “What else am I to do, Jamie?”

He felt as though his heart had been pierced with a sword. He interrupted and asked her to walk with him to his home. She had been there a few times, visiting in the parlor, but she sensed his uneasiness and anxiety as they walked toward his front porch.

“Jamie, what is it? You know you can say anything to me.”

He took her hands in his, raising them to his lips and gently kissed each one.

“I’m honest enough to say that I dinna care what the right and wrong of it may be, so long as you are here wi’ me, Claire. I know it may not be proper to marry to ask you so soon after Frank’s death. But will you have me, Claire? Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

As she looked at him, she felt as though she was holding heaven in the palms of her hands. Her gaze turned toward the grassy field stretching between his home and the trading post. In her mind’s eye, she saw curly headed children running and playing, screeching with laughter as Jamie chased after them. She saw herself nursing a red-headed newborn as Haseya sat next to her, dying wool. She saw all of it, all of the beauty and joy of a life spent by Jamie’s side.

“Yes, James Fraser. Yes, I will marry you.”

1 Month Later

Claire sat up in bed, carefully readjusting her curly haired baby girl, all of three hours old, already suckling at the breast. Haseya and the other Navajo women had attended her during the birth, and now, certain that she and the baby were healthy, they bid their farewells, assuring Jamie someone would be back in the evening to check on Claire and the newborn.

He settled in next to Claire on their bed, carefully enfolding her and the baby in a loving embrace. That Frank was the bairn’s father was of no consequence to him. He and Claire would raise the child, and Jamie knew that he was the child’s father, in every way that mattered.

“What name are we going to give her?” he asked, his eyes brimming with tears. Now that the bairn was finally here, he was grateful Claire had come through the labor and birth without any complications.

“There’s a word I have heard you say many times, but I’ve never asked what it meant,” Claire replied. “And it is not one of the Scots terms of endearment you use.”

“Hmm, well, I ken ye must mean Nizhóní.”

“Yes, that’s the word. What does it mean?’

“It means beautiful.”

Now it was Claire’s eyes that filled with tears, remembering Nizhóní was the first Navajo word she had ever heard Jamie speak.

“I want us to name her Nizhóní. Nizhóní Elizabeth Fraser.” Jamie pulled them closer, his wife and his bairn, gently stroking the face of the miracle who had just come into their lives.

And life was indeed beautiful.

#one quote one shot book 2

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yeniayofnymeria · 4 years

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A Song of Ice and Fire "Champions" (Theory)

Hello everone, i want to share my own theory about long night and it's champions. It’s about Arya and Dany.

First, I'm sorry for my poor English, i helped from google translate, hope you can understand what i mean.

Introduction

The legend of the Long Night and AA has been discussed many times, but I want to approach it from a different topic. As you know, there are two fundamental forces in the universe of asoiaf, and we are reading the war of these two forces; ice and fire.

Power representing the ice side; It's called the Great Other. He is the god of death, of terror, of night. The Spirit of Ice.

Power representing the fire side; It's called R'hllor. He is the god of light, of life, of fire.

"...The war has been waged since time began, and before it is done, all men must choose where they will stand. On one side is R'hllor, the Lord of Light, the Heart of Fire, the God of Flame and Shadow. Against him stands the Great Other whose name may not be spoken, the Lord of Darkness, the Soul of Ice, the God of Night and Terror. Ours is not a choice between Baratheon and Lannister, between Greyjoy and Stark. It is death we choose, or life. Darkness, or light." Melisandre

And this...

"The way the world is made. The truth is all around you, plain to behold. The night is dark and full of terrors, the day bright and beautiful and full of hope. One is black, the other white. There is ice and there is fire. Hate and love. Bitter and sweet. Male and female. Pain and pleasure. Winter and summer. Evil and good." She took a step toward him. "Death and life. Everywhere, opposites. Everywhere, the war." Melisandre

Of cource from Melisandre's perspective "Great Other... dead... is pure evil" But if we could ask it to ice side, they will said same thing for fire side, yeah? So do not mind the words of good and evil. Just focus the sides... I always say "the war between ice and fire" is like same as Stark and Lannister war. We saw both sides did bad things(Arya POVs), and both sides had good reason for battle. Who can say Starks are pure good but Lannisters are pure evil? I'm a Stark fan and i cannot say this.

So let's return our battle. Ice side wants eternal winter and fire side wants eternal summer. Well, i can say both of this are not good something, this is not a balance. Imagine living in the heat of desert or cold waether of north pole. Just one season, nothing more. Wildings live in north and they doesn't want to live there because life is so hard in there.

Prophecies

And I know, AA sound like a hero but who knows this? Really, we should trust the prophecises? I do not think so.

GRRM: " Prophecies are, you know, a double edge sword. You have to handle them very carefully; I mean, they can add depth and interest to a book, but you don’t want to be too literal or too easy... "

and Marwyn

"Born amidst salt and smoke, beneath a bleeding star. I know the prophecy." Marwyn turned his head and spat a gob of red phlegm onto the floor. "Not that I would trust it. Gorghan of Old Ghis once wrote that a prophecy is like a treacherous woman. She takes your member in her mouth, and you moan with the pleasure of it and think, how sweet, how fine, how good this is . . . and then her teeth snap shut and your moans turn to screams. That is the nature of prophecy, said Gorghan. Prophecy will bite your prick off every time." He chewed a bit. "Still . . ."

and Tyrion

"Prophecy is like a half-trained mule," he complained to Jorah Mormont. "It looks as though it might be useful, but the moment you trust in it, it kicks you in the head."

So guys, do not trust prophecy so much. :)

It doesn't mean AA is evil, forget evil word or good, ok? Both sides want to win this war this why they need a campion, and this champions are hero for their sides, that's all. Yeah but not for everyone, special not for common folk. You know, always common folk gets hurt in somebody's war.

Also AA prophecy comes from Asshai, a hero, a savior... That place so close to Yi Ti, Dawn Empire. Who caused the Long Night? Blood Stone Emperor. The Long Night was a punishmed for them(Dawn people and their emperor)which it was sent by Night's Lion. Some kind of revenge(ice is revenge). Who was Night's Lion? God of Night, God of Dead! So this why AA is against to ice, Great Other(Night's Lion).

But at Westeros, there is no AA or savior, a hero against Great Other... Yeah, there is a Last Hero, true but his story and mission are little different from aa's story.

According to Asshai, AA finished the Long Night but according to North, Last Hero found Childiren of Forest and get put together them and Night's Watch and First Men and fought against Others and won somehow.

The Champions

Actually, I want to focus on this word. R’hllor's warrior is also known as the “champion"

In the ASOIAF universe, in battles, sometimes there are champions both sides. They fight each other for win, In this way, sometimes armies do not have to fight... You need a champion if you want a trial by combat at Westeros. Of course, the other side has a champion too. Of your champion wins, you survive.

In summary, if there is a champion, it has to be valid for both sides.

Champions of Ice and Fire

Is there champion of ice? Well at least, we know Melisandre think so.

But beyond the Wall, the enemy grows stronger, and should he win the dawn will never come again. She wondered if it had been his face that she had seen, staring out at her from the flames. No. Surely not. His visage would be more frightening than that, cold and black and too terrible for any man to gaze upon and live. The wooden man she had glimpsed, though, and the boy with the wolf's face … they were his servants, surely … his champions, as Stannis was hers.

We might think that the ice side will have a champion. Like fire side.

Well we assume fire side's champion is Dany. Yeah, some people thinks Jon is AA but AA must be full fire but he is ice and fire by his parents. Dany suits more than him and looks she fulfilled the prophecy.

Also i belive Jon is a balance; he is ice and fire; dark and light; dead and life. First Dawn Emperor was son of Maiden of Light(fire) and Night's Lion(ice) and in his reign there was wealth and peace. Why? Because he was half ice, half fire; half light, half night; half dead, hald life... He was balance. If you realize Jon also dead now and when he comes back he will literally be dead and life, a ghost, neither literally dead nor alive, but both. There is a darkness inside him (especially after resurrection) and also there is light. I belive you got it. :)

So ok, Jon is balance... Dany is AA... then who is Ice's champion?

R'hllor's champion was full fire. Great Other's champion must be full ice? A Stark. A First Men, Daughter of North. Someone who smells death. Someone serving the god of death. Arya Stark.

She says the names of the people she wants to die in her prayer. Death accepts it. Why is that? Because she is messenger of dead, champion of Great Other.

Women are in a strong position in this book. Usually we are used to seeing men in the foreground in everything. That's why we're waiting for the hero or anything like that to turn out to be men. But not in this book. 5000 years ago, The Others's leader(or something like that) was a women; Night's Queen. We do not know what was it but she had a plan and used for this a NW member, Lord Commander, probably a Stark. Night's King.

If AA ise Dany, then it makes sense that Great Other's champion is a woman. It would be fun to watch two women's war. Dragon Queen and Wolf Queen, ice and fire. Also Arya's skills for what? Just for kill her list? No! He is one of the big five of GRRM. Like the other four, she should have a big impact on this war.

“If a twelve-year old has to conquer the world, then so be it.”

I believe FM is connected Great Other. God of Dead is Great Other. And Arya with them. Jaqen was around Arya and lead her to FM. Why? Too young to be FM. The Kind Man said her training would take years. But she's only been there for a few months, but she took a face. They taught her. They know exactly what she wants, but they keep her with them. They're giving her an accelerated course.

Ghost of High Heart saw what was inside her and her future

The dwarf woman studied her with dim red eyes. "I see you," she whispered. "I see you, wolf child. Blood child. I thought it was the lord who smelled of death . . ." She began to sob, her little body shaking. "You are cruel to come to my hill, cruel. I gorged on grief at Summerhall, I need none of yours. Begone from here, dark heart. Begone!"

Arya hears some whisper. Sounds like someone's talking to him.

Calm as still water, a small voice whispered in her ear. Arya was so startled she almost dropped her bundle. She looked around wildly, but there was no one in the stable but her, and the horses, and the dead men. Quiet as a shadow, she heard. Was it her own voice, or Syrio's? She could not tell, yet somehow it calmed her fears.

And this.

"But there is no pack," she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall. "I'm not even me now, I'm Nan." "You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you." “Wolf blood,” Arya now remembered.

So what do you think?

#AryaStark #daenerys targeryan #asoiaf #ice and fire #books #JonryaWeek2020 #JonryaJanuary

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