#'what do you expect me do read her entire 50+ year history-'

[slightlycomicobsessed]

"we need more complex and irredemable female characters!" yall couldn't even handle Natasha Romanoff

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for almost killing my 8th grade english teacher? (warning: racism, sa mention)

I (M16, 14 at the time, white (this is important later)) was part of the newspaper in middle school. The teacher running the newspaper (F… 50? 60? i have no idea) was always really nice to me, and we got along really well. I was ecstatic to see that she would be my english teacher in 8th grade.

That is, until the class actually began.

This english class we mostly read books about oppression and historical atrocities and genocide because our history class wouldn’t cover that for some reason (the reason is racism). It seemed like this teacher would have done a good job of teaching this material, but well. you can see where this is going.

a week into the school year the whole class saw that she was pretty racist - not like overtly racist; she sort of said she cared about fighting oppression and then… was a part of that oppression. like she’d say “i could never be racist” and then she would be racist. it’s hard to explain. she would always be incredibly weird about disciplining the Black kids in the class, blaming one guy in particular for like. every time a guy in the class acted like and eighth grade boy would act. she was also really condescending to him; she’d constantly make comments about how he couldn’t follow rules (which obviously isn’t true). she did this to an extent to all the other Black kids in the class as well; later when some of them went to the principal to talk about what happened they said they didn’t feel safe in her class.

additionally, pretty much nobody even stood for the pledge of allegiance (we were usually busy reading cause the library in that school was really nice and had a really good collection of books), and when they did they’d never actually say it. this teacher had a problem with this, and every time she saw absolutely nobody in the class standing for the pledge of allegiance, she’d make the entire homeroom (oh yeah i was in her homeroom too, forgot to mention that) tell her why they didn’t for literally the entire class period. Every time someone mentioned systemic racism or racist history she’d butt in either saying “my parents were immigrants and they stood for the pledge” or she’d start talking about her gay son. some kids told stories of being called slurs when they were younger. some kids cried. she would always bring up her gay son as a rebuttal. and i get that being gay is hard, i’m gay myself, but that is not in any way applicable to the situation at hand here. This happened on three separate occasions - sometimes a single person would stand for the pledge just so there was at least one person doing it and so we wouldn’t have to have that conversation.

And then there was the actual teaching. oh boy. so, as i said before, almost all of our books in this class were about some sort of historical atrocity because the history class didn’t have time for it apparently. and uh. uhhhhhhh yeah. with this teacher it was not a good experience.

We had read books about racism for summer reading and we were reading the novel Chains at the beginning of the school year, and the teacher would always talk about how “resilient” the characters in the books were and how they made the best of their situations and fought back, but never about how these characters should have never had to be in these situations in the first place and WHO PUT THEM IN THESE SITUATIONS, WHAT SYSTEMS PUT THEM IN THESE SITUATIONS YOU KNOW THE KIND OF STUFF ONE WOULD NEED TO KNOW FROM A COURSE LIKE THIS TO MAKE SURE HISTORY DOESNT REPEAT ITSELF. Later in the year we read Warriors Don’t Cry and it went exactly how you’d expect. “Resiliency”. Also worse than you’d expect. The teacher victim blamed the author, a real ass person writing about real fucking events, for almost being assaulted at a young age. And though we focused more on the systems of oppression, thankfully, we also watched and interview with the little rock nine and some of the people who harassed them in school, and one of them, a white woman, said the n word and refused to apologize. and this teacher defended her???? On another occasion we had a lesson about feminism and we read some of Sojourner Truth’s writing, and she interpreted it as solely being about womanhood and not race - and when I tried to talk about how race is an important factor in the message of one of the speeches, the teacher called my parents. We also read books about the holocaust and this teacher was surprisingly respectful throughout the whole thing. No victim blaming, no talk of resilience, nothing.

I had talked to her about all of this before. We knew each other from the newspaper, and it even seemed like I was her favorite student. She would not budge. Sometimes she even made the argument that I was smarter than the other kids, that I cared more than the other kids, that I would notice these things and care about them but other kids wouldn’t and I should just shut up because nobody understands me because i’m just so smart. which made me fucking pissed. i don’t care any more than the other kids who told you stories of being harassed and ridiculed at 8:30 am on a weekday so that the whole class could excercise their freedom of speech. i’m not any smarter than the other kids who cited countless examples of the atrocities this country committed against people of color to you who you didn’t listen to. in fact, i’m not even that smart. i’d say i’m kind of an idiot. and i want to be an idiot, because then i’m not put on a pedestal to push other people down.

This happened two years ago so i don’t exactly remember the order in which these next three events happened.

Since during these talks sometimes i’d start to cry, in may my french teacher asked me if i wanted to transfer to her homeroom and i did. It was a lot better there.

Around this time about eight of the kids from my old homeroom went to the principal to talk about this teacher and how her class made them feel unsafe.

Anyway, my backpack is very heavy. I usually have a lot of books in there, until this year I used five subject notebooks, I never clean out my folders and I brought a laptop as well. Even with all this though, my backpack always ends up being heavier than I expected.

So, one day my anger toward this teacher boiled over. On my way out of english class, when she went to say goodbye to me, I shoved her to the side with my backpack. It turns out that broke her hip, and she was out of school for two weeks. When she came back she said she had almost died in the hospital. She also announced her retirement, and that she was going to go and “end racism”, ironically. She knew I was the one who hit her, but she didn’t say anything about that. I was still her favorite, apparently. It left a bad taste in my mouth that she still thought of me like this. Eventually I graduated from that school and I haven’t seen her since.

tldr: A teacher of mine was racist and making a lot of the kids in the class feel unsafe, and she tried to keep me from arguing with her about it, so I hit her with my backpack and broke her hip, almost killing her.

AITA???

What are these acronyms?

[vanhelsing-if]

Tbf the life expectancy being so low in the past has a lot more to do with high rates of infant and child mortality and people dying in childbirth rather than people dying young once they reached adulthood (though I will say post industrial revolution a lot of people did die young from being worked to death, factory accidents, etc before basic labor laws were implemented). On the other hand, my sister had her first gray hair at 9, so premature graying definitely has always been a thing.

Also sorry if this comes off as condescending or anything, this is a really common misconception and it's not a big deal! You just unlocked the history nerd part of me, so I wanted to talk about it a bit!!

yes, i did know about this and don’t worry, you didn’t come off as condescending! as a fellow history nerd i can understand the compulsion (although, my focus is on ancient civilisations rather than the 19th century).

however, i read a study a while ago which showed that (more notably) starting in the late 1800s (more specifically in those born after 1880), women had a higher life expectancy than men. men aged between 50-70 were twice as likely to die than women. this is believed to be because men were more susceptible to cardiovascular diseases than women (although life expectancy did generally increase in both due to germs becoming more understood). so, this is kind of what i was thinking about, but until i just found the paper and re-read it, i couldn’t remember the exact numbers and just took the ones i saw on google as the correct-ish ones without taking infant/child deaths bringing the curve down to about 40yo into account.

obviously, this doesn’t entirely work with helsing because they were born prior to 1880, but i just thought those stats were funny in relation to the older helsing ask, considering helsing can be only a year off of 40 if that’s what the reader decides.

obviously, as you said, premature greying is a thing, so helsing can absolutely achieve their older look lol!

link to the study for anyone who is interested:

https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1421942112

(some of the studies they reference are quite interesting as well, but many of them you need to either pay or have university or work access).

[is-the-fire-real]

judío por elección (part 2)

(part 1.)

My wife and I started searching for a community after a lot of talking. But, technically, we were already looking.

After E died, S gave us charge over a specific set of books. He had told her that it was vital these books go to a synagogue. He preferred it to be a London synagogue. We had no clue which one.

Shoved in with all the different books he had, and we inherited, was ephemera from different synagogues--pamphlets from the 1980s and 1990s, booklets from the '40s and '50s. We started calling and emailing them about these books, because they were pretty important.

They're chumash with a publication date of 1898.

Problem was, we couldn't get any synagogues to respond. The one who finally did said that they had too many books and could not accept any more. They suggested that E might still be honored if the chumash went to a Spanish synagogue.

The community here, as you can imagine, is struggling. Spain has done a real good job at keeping Jews out since the expulsion of 1492. Most groups operate in half-secret: no website, or a website that hasn't been updated in years; no phone numbers. Half of the people we tried to contact never responded. Most of the rest couldn't support our conversion.

One rabbi from Madrid answered us. She made it clear that we'd have to move if we wanted to attend her group. This was expected and crushing. We're poor, disabled, and pretty well stuck where we are. But then she said that there was a brand-new community in a city closer to us, one we visit with some frequency. She introduced us to their leader.

I have the impression that A would be considered a cantor. He is not a rabbi, but he can lead services. He had a few questions about my wife and I's histories and experiences with Judaism. (Those experiences I'll talk about somewhat, but it's difficult to talk about meaningfully while also maintaining privacy, so it'll have to wait.) He wanted to know if and what we were reading. Then he invited us to Shabbat, which they conduct through videocalls.

This group does not have a rabbi, much less a synagogue. Several of the folks who call in for our Shabbat meeting live in a different city entirely. That person talks about experiences with Mossad. I want to get better at Spanish so that I can learn from her.

There's singing (as someone who's seen Ashkenazi services, the Sephardi tradition sounds amazing), of course, and because there's so few of us, A has my wife and I read sometimes for services. The very first thing I got to read was Psalm 23, which has always been one of my favorite works of art... which A couldn't know when he asked me to read it.

I said I'd stumble at lot. He told me to read it slowly in Spanish, that it's better to read slow and correctly than quickly and clumsily. He seemed pleased with my effort.

I was raised Mormon, and the entire approach to worship was very different, in a way I found appealing. My wife said it wasn't that different for them--they were raised mainstream Protestant, so singing and standing/sitting a lot were normal for them.

When we were asked to raise a glass of alcohol, we asked if it had to be wine. (We're bad Spaniards. Neither of us likes the stuff.) A said that as long as it was fermented, it was fine. One attendant had a gin and tonic.

The last time we celebrated Shabbat, we used gay-pride themed glasses and filled them with beer. "¿Qué tenéis?" we were asked.

"¡Cerveza!", which cracked them all up, and the ex-Mossad member talked about how the Orthodox she used to worship with would drink whiskey.

Setting aside the Shabbat has been, overall, easier than I thought it would be. I check HebCal to make sure when the candles should be lit. I do all my household chores throughout Thursday and Friday-daytime. My wife tries to cook as much as possible before the candles are lit, and we eat, talk, and do our video-call service with the community.

Saturday I set aside. I have to keep reminding myself not to work, to consider things done even if they look like they're not.

But onward.

Our little community is fantastic, particularly A. He found out I'm having problems with some of my IDs. He told us not to worry. He knows a lot of people who work immigration and he can help us go to the right office and navigate the Spanish bureaucracy. ("Byzantine" should be replaced with "Spanish".) He's answered all our questions and invited us to events about the Shoah and personally introduced us to people.

They were so welcoming, so open, so not-rejecting-us-three-times (but if you count all the rabbis who told us no, technically, that's more than three) that it shocked my wife and I. We talked beforehand about how the community might want to withdraw, and not trust new converts, given October 7. We found the opposite. Our local Jews seem to feel that our willingness to look at how the world is behaving right now and still say "Your people will be my people" demonstrates our sincerity in and of itself.

On the other hand, when we first met A in person, my wife made a comment regarding his personal safety. He admitted that there was a man in the room with us who's his armed bodyguard. He and his wife do not leave home on business related to the community without their bodyguard.

My wife felt a cold hand creep up their back when they heard that. I was not nearby--I was checking all the exits of the auditorium and calculating where we'd need to sit if we had to flee. There were "pro-Palestinian" protests going on that day and the odds were there wouldn't be any danger near us, but... but...

Several of A's family members are also converting. We will have to travel halfway across the country to a mikveh. There are many medieval mikvehs in Spain, but to my knowledge, there are only two which are actually in use. My wife says we'll have to do a road trip. I immediately think about how "one Sephardi and four converts go road tripping across a country where one of its favorite dishes was designed as a Fuck You to Jews and Muslims" would be a fucking great novel.

Would be? Will be. And completing this branch of the journey with a journey feels right.

Oh, and my favorite A story: he invited us to spend some time with him and his wife after a community meal. We agreed to attend the meal, but had to leave after. "We have a lot of dogs and cats," my wife said, "we have to return and care for them."

"We'd love to have you," he said, "but it's a mitzvah, taking care of animals. Do that instead."

Afterward, my wife stared at me in wonderment and said: "I don't think I ever heard that once in church."

[tortoisesshells]

2022 Fanfic Year in Review: tortoiseshells on AO3

Thanks for the tag @hmsannlett!

Total Completed Works: 6.

Word Count: 6,925 - strictly from completed works; 105,996 including chapters from Customs and Duties.

Fandoms I’ve Written In: Pirates of the Caribbean, The Blackwell Series, Fallout 4, Band of Brothers (specifically for @mercurygray‘s The Darkening Sky-verse), 1899

Looking Back, Did You Write More Fic Than You Thought You Would This Year, Less, Or About What You’d Expected?: Less, honestly. Real Life Issues have really eroded my down time and mental space, and while I’m grateful to have the opportunity to take care of my family, I do miss the space I had before.

What’s Your Own Favorite Story Of The Year?: I love all my children equally. Customs and - uh, hang on. the ink on my hand is smudged.

In all seriousness, though, Customs Ch. 22 “Unused to Home” or [Nellie “Sustained Mental Breakdown” Treat Has A Bad Time] was my favorite single chapter to write, since I finally got to jam the last bits of her backstory in there; my favorite completed fic was probably et mūtam nēquīquam alloquerer cinerem, because I love untranslated Latin and trivia about Boston and the history of the Bonus Army, and unfortunately all twelve of you who read it just had to go along with it.

Do You Have Any Fanfic Goals For The New Year?: Either I finish Customs or Customs finishes me. Curse of the Black Pearl turns 20 this year, and it would be thematically appropriate for me to finish in time for the Big Anniversary. That, and I really only have to [checks notes] figure out the entire back half of that Fallout 4 fic about the putative shore whaling economy of post-apocalyptic Massachusetts that exists only in my imagination and as a flimsy excuse for Piper Wright/OFC.

Most Popular Story Of The Year?: lol. Probably Customs, but pretty much everything else I was lucky to break 50 hits and 4 kudos.

Story Of Mine Most Under-Appreciated By The Universe, In My Opinion: I was never expecting great things for a short character study of the most unpopular character in Fallout 4 but, in the words of the man himself, goddamn. I suppose getting hit with some weird bot or glitch that gave me more kudos than hits on bear your neighbor’s burden is some consolation but ... it’s really not.

Most Fun Story To Write: had you not better make One of us, which features teenage Elizabeth Swann’s growing pains, Captain Johnson’s history of piracy, musing about sharks via shark-tooth fossils, and the as-yet only canon-to-the-original-AU appearance of the late, lamented Captain Samuel Treat. I had fun with the character voices and it was nice to have Samuel doing something other than being dead in a Boston graveyard.

Most Unintentionally Telling Story: I could stand here joking about being even more emotionally shut-down than either of my protagonists in Customs, but I suspect I’ve done that before. Lauren Blackwell’s inner monologue in save me, damn you, for all that I’m not an unwilling psychic in 1970s Manhattan.

Biggest Disappointment: well, it happened two days into 2023, but Netflix canning 1899 was a little bit of a let down to my fic-writing ambitions she says, with dozens of tabs on late 19th century liners and hydrography and radio technology open.

Biggest Surprise: I wasn’t expecting to get into a new fandom with about a week to go in the year, and it feels almost like cheating to say that 1899 was a surprise, since it hits a lot of my narrative buttons. But, yeah, for the sake of argument (and undercutting my own surprise because me? using Emily Dickinson for a fic title? vintage Mercy Street.) covers the Abyss with Trance — So Memory can step.   

Tagging: @mercurygray, @theonlyredcar, @shoshiwrites, @jomiddlemarch, @r-osehips, and anyone else who wants to talk!

[survey--s]

546.

Any recent purchases? Yeah, I had to replace my laptop on the weekend. I got a new Chromebook which seems pretty decent for what I paid.

Have you ever thought about giving up on life completely? Yeah, my mental health was in the toilet for a fair amount of time when I was a teenager and a student.

Have you seen the entire Harry Potter series? Yeah, several times over lol.

Do you still have both of your parents? I do.

Do you live very far away from Kansas? I’m a long way from Kansas.

Do you enjoy cuddling? Sometimes. At this time of year I find it really claustrophobic though as I just get really warm and sticky and horrible.

Do you play video games? Not really. 

How many colors are in your hair right now? My hair is just my natural colour, so dark brown.

Do you have your full license yet? Yeah, I’ve had my license for...five ish years now.

Do you have the same color eyes as your mother? No, mine are darker than hers.

Does your significant other boss you around a lot? Hahah no. I wouldn’t tolerate that shit in a relationship.

Do you prefer winter or summer? Hmm, probably summer overall but I love winter too - they both have their benefits.

Do you know anyone who has overdosed? Yes.

Are you a fan of PDA (public displays of affection)? Nah, not really. The odd kiss and holding hands is one thing, but couples that are draped all over each other all the time make me really uncomfortable.

Have you ever been put to sleep for surgery? No, thankfully not.

Where are your siblings as of now? I don’t have any siblings.

What color shirt are you wearing as of now? A black jumpsuit.

What is your favorite class? I used to love History.

Are you in love with someone right now? I am.

Can you speak any other languages than the one you’re fluent in? Yeah, French and basic German. I can also speak a few words of Spanish and Italian - I can understand more than I can speak though.

Do you take a lot of photos? I take loads at work but otherwise no, not really. I guess I take a few photos of where we live as it’s so pretty.

When you were little, did you think band-aids healed everything? Hahah yes, or wet paper towels.

Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? I was pregnant as a student - I miscarried at about 12-13 weeks.

Where do you download music from? Spotify.

Have you ever cheated on someone before? Never.

Have you ever attempted suicide? Once, yeah.

Do you know what ‘irony’ means? Sure.

How many pillows do you normally sleep with? I sleep with two, but if I’m just in bed reading or online, I use two plus two throw pillows as well.

Do you lose your remote often? No, not really.

Have you ever skipped class before? Sure, loads of times at university.

Are you a regular school skipper? Not in actual school as I’d never have gotten away with it, but at university, yes.

Do you have any Pay-per-View channels? Nope.

Who, in your life, makes you feel discouraged? Nobody.

When was the last time you went bowling? About six years ago in Blackpool. I won, lol.

Do you ever suspect your significant other of lying to you? No. He’s an awful liar.

Are you expected to help fix Thanksgiving dinner? We don’t have Thanksgiving here.

Is there anything bothering you right now? My elbow hurts.

Would you like to talk to someone about it? lol, no, it’s hardly a major issue.

Do you live by any major bodies of water? Yeah, the Irish Sea is about five minutes away.

Do you tend to make the first move in a relationship? It depends, it’s probably been 50-50 over the years.

Do you spend a lot of time with family? No, not really. I’ve never been especially close with my family.

How many times have you been to Disney World, if any? None. I have been to EuroDisney once though.

Have you ever lost anyone close to cancer? Not close, but I do know plenty of people who have had cancer.

Have you ever been accused of being on drugs when you weren’t? Yes.

Do you have a more quiet or loud voice? I tend to go from one extreme to another.

Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? Yes.

When was the last time you got a shot? Uh, my last COVID shot which was about two? years ago now, maybe.

Can you play any instruments? If so, what are those instruments? I can play piano and I know a few chords on guitar.

Do you have any diseases? No.

Have you ever been into a car accident? Yeah, but luckily I’ve never been badly hurt - just bruising and whiplash.

[tstimacstumblinfuntime]

January Book Roundup

The Commodore (”Aubrey & Maturin”, book 17) by Patrick O’Brian, 1995  ★★★☆☆ 

I had more fun with The Commorodre than The Wine-Dark Sea, but not enough to make it all the way to four stars. Jack and Stephen are back in England with all the domestic strife that entails. While I got into the series for the navel adventure, the personal relationships that anchor the novels are what keep me coming back and boy howdy does this one have plenty of that. The book also has plenty of navel action, a good bit of espionage, and a significant digression to acknowledge the horrors of the transatlantic slave trade. Another perfectly acceptable book and I’m excited to read the next one. 

Leviathan Falls (”The Expanse”, book 9) by James S. A. Corey (Daniel Abraham & Ty Franck), 2021  ★★★★★

For unclear reasons, it took my local library an entire year to get a copy of this one and another two months for me to get my hands on it. Thankfully, it was entirely worth the wait. The final volume of “The Expanse” has all the exciting space action and well observed human drama that made the series so beloved. Not only that, it manages to wrap up the story of the Rocinante and her crew in an extremely satisfying, narratively symmetrical way. As for the plot... gang, this book has EVERYTHING: Malevolent interdimensional dark gods, an ex-Martian space emperor trying to do an “End of Evangelion”, ancient alien history lessons, and a Good Dog who doesn’t die (technically). I obviously can’t recommend the last book to anyone who might be curious, but the series in aggregate gets a hardy endorsement. 

What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher (Ursula Vernon), 2022  ★★★★☆

I picked this one up knowing exactly two things: My wife enjoyed it and what the cover looked like. Based on this information I was expecting some seriously spooky eco-horror. I was less than a page in when I discovered it was a retelling of “The Fall of the House of Usher” and adjusted my expectation to a story trading in gothic dread. And there is a good deal of both those things, but it was all filtered through a narrator who felt like a comic relief character who wandered in from a different story. What Moves the Dead is a strange piece that I never managed to get completely into, but it has a spectacular voice to it. This one gets a recommendation, but I’d give it a coin flip if the average reader bounces off or becomes completely absorbed.

Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel, 2022 ★★★★☆

Don’t let the time travel, the people from the moon, or the majority of the book taking place in the future trick you: This is literary fiction, not science fiction. Not even what Margaret Atwood insists on calling “speculative fiction”, this is all literary all the way. I’m not much of a literary guy most of the time. If you aren’t going to keep me interested with cool sword fights or dope spaceships, I’m going to need the writing, themes, and structure to be perfect. And the book almost was perfect, bar one slight stumble at the end when a character says the theme of the book directly to the audience. I’m probably being churlish knocking a whole star off for that, but reviews are always subjective. To give you an idea of how perfect the book is otherwise: One of the characters is an author expy on book tour to promote her pandemic novel that was recently adapted to a popular film only for the tour to be interrupted by an actual pandemic and I didn’t immediately close the book with a sigh. This one gets the strongest possible recommendation to anyone with a passing interest in literary fiction (who have probably already read it). If you’re not usually a literary fiction person, I’d recommend this to you, too. Just know that if you find it a bit dull, that’s entirely your fault.

By the Numbers:

Total Books: 4

Genre: Historical Fiction (1), Science Fiction (1), Horror (1), Literary Fiction (1)

Decades: 1990s (1), 2020s (3) 

Author Stats: Women (2, 50%), POC: 0 (0%), Queer Authors: 1 (25%), Living Authors (3, 75%)

I keep saying “kinda light month” after reading four books, but after three months I’m forced to confront the possibility that I’m a “four books a month” guy. Would have been five if the library app hadn’t torn a book from my hands when I had less than 10% to go, but that’s life sometimes. I’m sure I committed some great sin to cause that reversal of fortune.

Also a much bigger percentage of books from this decade than in previous months, which is always nice. And if I can finish The World We Make before the loan expires in 7 days, next month I’ll finally have something other than a 0 for POC authors. 

Have you read any of these? I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences. But please don’t tell me what to read next. I have so may books to read, gang. Please don’t stack that tower any higher, I’m begging you.

[c-is-for-circinate]

Okay! I did it! I renewed my library card after a pandemic-and-then-some's worth of years, and I read now.

Which I think means keeping a record or something, probably. If only to keep track of things I do and don't like, for future reference!

Books I've tried to read in the past two weeks, in roughly chronological order:

Gideon the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir -- never have so many people whose taste I respect disagreed so forcefully on a work of fiction. Plus I had a free epub of it on my harddrive from a Tor thing ages ago, so it seemed like a good place to start. I found it genuinely enjoyable! Gideon was a fun headspace to follow along, and while I absolutely did not go in expecting 'Agatha Christie locked mansion murder mystery, with lots of bones', I was down for it when it happened. A solid choice.

Tooth and Claw, Jo Walton -- DID NOT FINISH. Another random free Tor download. Got about a chapter in and then decided that there was too much cannibalism going on in the weird Regency-esque dragon religion for me, thank you no.

The Way of Kings, Brandon Sanderson -- DID NOT FINISH. I was sad to not like this one! Tumblr keeps raving about Brandon Sanderson! But man, once you've hit the fifth chapter in a row (sorry, third chapter, there were two prologues first) with a brand new narrator, and one of the previous narrators is dead and you're pretty sure you'll never see two of the other POVs ever again, and you've had three timeskips and you're a hundred pages in and maybe the story is finally actually starting, and there have been a whole two female characters so far (well, one female character and one 'sprites aren't supposed to have gender but this one has boobs so I'll give her female pronouns') and we're supposed to like this one because she's Inappropriately Witty in a way her brothers like but her nursemaids scoff at, which mostly seems to consist of arch remarks about how men don't want to date her...big nope!

A Dead Djinn in Cairo, P. Djeli Clark -- A fun (queer) detective novella, prequel to one of this year's Nebula novels. The worldbuilding was very cool -- 1912 Cairo in an alternate history where magic has recently entered the world, very very grounded in its place and period while doing interesting things with magic and djinn. The mystery felt pretty bare-bones and formulaic in itself, but it was a short novella, without a lot of space for twists. An easy read, and you've got to love a dapper lady detective in a suit.

Harrow the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir -- I am now officially Up To Date with my various tumblr friends who raved about these books. I enjoyed it! I enjoyed it slightly less than Gideon, I think -- I liked a lower percentage of the characters, and the ones I liked were present a much lower percentage of the time, plus Harrow is just so miserable for so much of the book that it's less fun -- but 'enjoy' is slightly different than 'appreciate', and I did very much appreciate it. Not going to go rabid over the series any time soon, but I'll probably check Nona and Alecto out when they happen.

The Wolf of Oren-Yaro, K.S. Villoso -- DID NOT FINISH. Oof, another one I wanted to like, a random browsing pick when I went to grab a hold from the library. The protagonist of this book feels incredibly realistic and relatable as a woman who got married young to a man her family chose, who fucked off and left her with the kid and the family business after an argument, and then showed back up after five years with divorce papers because he wants his 50% of the communal property she's been taking care of the whole time. Which is cool! Unfortunately, said 'communal property' is an entire kingdom, and the protagonist makes zero sense as a queen. She's BAD at her job, in a way that could be interesting to explore as part of her youth/shitty support network, but it really feels like the author does not get just HOW BAD she is at her job. Or what basic logistic decisions could have been made to imply that the progatonist or literally a single member of her staff were even marginally competent. This could be a great setup for a novel about a merchant or a homesteading farmer or a clan leader, but it flopped hard for me.

A Master of Djinn, P. Djeli Clark -- Sequel to the aforementioned novella, and Nebula award winner! This one was, like its prequel, fun, and the imagery and really excellent worldbuilding is 100% its best part. It's very much a detective novel, with certain conceits. None of its characters are particularly layered, everybody is improbably good at sword-fighting, and there was definitely a point at which I was tallying up just how many different incredibly dapper, well-tailored suits in dazzlingly fashionable colors our heroine had worn so far, apparently bought on her civil servant's salary. But at a certain point, you just open yourself up to the joy of an extremely dapper lady detective with a sword cane and a bowler hat and an Extremely Hot Girlfriend who is sometimes a thief. There's an underground jazz club which functions as a speakeasy for no apparent reason but features a brass band direct from New Orleans. At one point Kaiser Wilhelm II shows up. There may or may not be a mecha. Again, the mystery itself is nothing to write home about (a lot more intricate and interesting in the middle than the prequel but still somewhat predictable in bits, and the bad guy at the end was pretty obvious), but the book is fun. Shouldn't dapper lesbian lady detectives get to have that?

In Other Lands, Sara Rees Brennan -- I enjoyed this way more than I expected! I read The Demon's Lexicon years ago, and was DEEPLY unimpressed (I mostly remember it as a mediocre British Supernatural AU made more boring by the process of filing the serial numbers off), but it looks like Brennan and I have both grown as people, because I liked this a lot. It sidesteps the low-hanging fruit of 'why do fantasy lands always need kids to save them? isn't that kind of fucked up?' and goes right for the throat of 'what the fuck kind of sociopolitical system is implied by this child soldier bullshit in the first place, and why is it so easy to be okay with it?'. I found the whole elven reversal of gender tropes grating sexism somewhat wearing, but I liked Elliot as a protagonist a lot. Here's a kid who knows down to his bones that he's bad at people, that he's abrasive and mean and judgemental and impatient, who still values people on just the most fundamental level. Kid's got a -2 to charisma and is still the party face because he's the only person in the entire system who wants to talk first and stab never. I appreciate that, and I appreciate him.

The Unspoken Name, A.K. Larkwood -- An interesting book! I read the whole thing and liked most of the beginning third and most of the end third a great deal, and the middle third well enough with a smidgen of 'I'm a little too ace for this, the Love Interest showed up and it's boring now'. It's a story about...isolation? Abuse, but not the kind that recognizes itself as abuse. In some ways the story feels very scattered, thematically -- a lot of theme going on but I'm not sure how much some of it actually resolves -- but I did really like it. Most of the relatively few relationships in this book, be it friendship or co-worker-ship or acquaintanceship or even just the relationship of a person to a place, are brief and thin, negative or unhealthily one-sided, or just absent, which isn't exactly my taste but does make Csorwe and Shuthmili's mutual understanding the sweeter for it. Fans of Gideon the Ninth would probably like this, although it felt a little less original than I think it might've had I not read that first, and the interplay of traditional fantasy language and extremely casual modern talk felt a lot more uneven. All in all, I think it's a rec if you're into vague unsettled feelings about gods and stories that are more about learning to stand up and leave your abuser than about said abuser ever getting any sort of comeuppance in return. Plus, stubborn lesbian orc girl with a big sword, always a plus.

I have a pile of recs from my last post! I will continue to collect recs! Toss 'em my way, I'm beginning to remember that, oh right, last time I regularly read books I read them voraciously. This is FUN.

[achillieus]

we’re fools. (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, angst, too much tension, bucky and reader are stupid and in  denial, sexual tension all around the place

tagging: @tonystankschild​

(other parts)  (masterlist)

part 2/3:

And then it’s the last week of February and you have an assignment together, you and Bucky, the boy with black hair and a mind that you’re certain is not as clever as he insists it is. You know this cannot possibly end well. You feel it when he sits beside you and his knee brushes past your leg. You feel it when you take a breath and smell his aftershave. Sandalwood and vanilla. It makes you want to lick your lips. Please, get a grip. You try to get away, even propose to write the whole thing alone so you wouldn’t have to spend any time around him. In your mind, you call it self defense. But Bucky’s boastful and you can see him pumping the muscles in his neck, trying to intimidate you.

“My dorm, tomorrow at 7,” he says “Don’t be late.”

-

(your late night instagram search history)

(00:38 AM) #literaturememes

(01:15 AM) @buckybrns

(01:30 AM) #newgirl

(01:50 AM) @buckybrns

(02:10 AM) @buckybrns

You find it annoying; how he’s present even when he’s not around.

-

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that everyone, boys and girls, adore him alike. He’s charming, he’s crafty, he’s brilliant. He’s everything they want him to be and even more. It nearly condones his megalomania.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s aware he has an audience. Always plans his moves, knows how to play his character perfectly. He wears dark designer jeans and plain Henley shirts, buttons open, fabric tight around his biceps. Sometimes even a black leather jacket and a tag necklace. Girls are intrigued by the bad-boy, straight A student contrast, while the boys are envious enough keep him close and invite him to all of their parties. Bucky gives them whatever they need.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s utterly lonely. He has never said so, but it’s the truest thing about him. He has Sam. But for how long? Bucky’s used to people going away. It has been imprinted on him. His best friend, Steve, left with his girlfriend in an exchange program last month and Natasha, the one girl he ever came close to loving, just started dating Clint Barton. Clint fucking Barton. What a downgrade.

And then there’s you, sitting at the end of his bed, playing with the ring in your finger, reading some neatly written lecture notes. Usually, Bucky would think about 129 cheeky comments he could make to a girl in his room. But not to you. Are you sure, Bucky? He has grown accustomed to disliking you. It’s the one constant he has left and he’s not planning on losing it.

He leans down and takes the place next to you, a bottle of beer dangling loosely in his hand.

He offers and you decline.

“We need to concentrate on the project.”  

“You’re the biggest killjoy.” Bucky says with a hint of a smirk.

“I’m studying, Bucky.” He can see your left hand holding that dark green pen in a tight grip and your eyes trying to focus everywhere but on his face. He can see your hair glistening in the warm afternoon light that comes from his window. He can see the soft red blush on your cheeks and the beauty mark on your neck. What a tricky thing it is to see. And to feel. And to want.

Is that what dislike tastes like, Bucky?

-

He talks a lot, that’s the first thing you notice. He says all sorts of things, most of them having nothing to do with your project. You’re certain it’s because he’s feeling as uncomfortable and agitated as you. But still, it’s annoying as hell.

“Listen,” you say and turn to his side “I’m not going to fail this class just because you have the attention span of a two year old.”

A laugh escapes his lips and you watch, completely in awe, the way little wrinkles form around his eyes and his nose scrunches. Right now, he looks tender and warm. No, he doesn’t.

“I think we’re both pretty smart,” Bucky says nonchalant and wets his lower lip with his tongue, before he adds, “We’ve got this, so relax doll.”

There are rules, things that are solid, de facto.

Example 1: Bucky never praises you. At least not out loud.

Example 1: Not valid anymore.

Example 2: Bucky uses the word “doll” approximately ten times a day. To other girls. The girls he likes. Not to you.

That’s actually wrong, he called you doll the first time you met. That doesn’t count. He didn’t know you then.

Example 2: Not valid anymore.

It feels foreign. Pleasant and beguiling, but foreign.

“You always call girls “doll”. What is this?” You ask and he looks up. “Is it like your thing, your flirt move?”

Bucky meets your gaze, his forehead creased, and holds it for some seconds before he laughs again. Is this amusing him?

“No, I’m serious.” You bite your lip. “You even did it to me when we first met.”

“I did?”

Of course he doesn’t remember, what did you expect?

“Yeah, when you helped me find the admission office.”

“And you remember that, an entire year later?” He raises his eyebrows, looking entertained and partly interested.

Your mind empties and for some time you feel out of place, embarrassed. But you’re quick to recollect yourself. You can’t let him get you.

“It was my first day as a college student, I remember all of it.”

Liar. You don’t even remember who you sat next to.

Bucky smirks a little too long for your liking and then he leans in, his body bending in a way that makes you forget to breath. He’s so close and you only see blue, a rare kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the brightest shade of the sky at noon. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t that handsome. Handsome and indomitable. What an awful combination.

“Interesting.” He whispers and lies back, touching the wall.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and clear your throat.

“I should go, it’s obvious we’re not making any progress.” You pick your books and stand up. “Sometimes I wonder how you get all those perfect grades, you clearly-” You merely finish your sentence before he grabs your arm and swiftly, he has you pressed against his wooden bookcase. You don’t have time to blink.

What’s happening? He was sitting down a second ago.

“That day,” he says while his thumb draws circles on your wrist. “You were wearing a denim dress and some Saturn shaped earrings. And you were holding a cherry juice box.”

It’s utterly terrifying how your emotions toss and turn the moment you realize what he’s talking about and the fragile muscles of your heart ache because Bucky cares. Bucky remembers.

“It wasn’t my first day of college, but I remember.”

You want to throw up. Or kiss him. You’re not sure. You know you hate Bucky. Do you? You’ve taught yourself to. And it was never supposed to change. It shouldn’t have to.  

You part your lips to say something, anything, but he shakes his head and steps back.

“You should go.”

And you do. And you’ll never tell him, but you’ll always regret not kissing him then. You’re sure now.

-

your inbox, the next morning

(10:25 AM) from buckybrns@gmail.com

              I’m sending you our assignment. You only need to add a few things and it’s done. If anything else comes up, it’s better we work on our own.

-

For Bucky, it all came crashing down the moment he first saw you. It was all over the moment his eyes met yours. A gourmand perfume lingered in the air around you that day and it stained his pores. And it’s been with him since then. Clinging onto his flesh.

It’s partly obsessive and partly romantic and Bucky tries to keep it locked inside. He thinks he can make it go away easily, the way he flicks a crumb off his expensive cashmere scarf. He thinks if he doesn’t talk about it, it’ll be less true. That’s not how things work, Bucky.

Yeah, he’s starting to notice.

And he’s trying so hard to hate you. The problem is, he doesn’t think he can.

(his late night instagram search history)

(00:45 AM) #tomfordperfumes

(01:30 AM) @y/n

(01:50 AM) #funnycats

(02:15 AM) @y/n

(03:45 AM) @y/n

-

You make it your mission to avoid him and it’s going well until the fifth of March. You spot him at Sam Wilson’s party. You should have known he’d be here, they’re friends. There’s a thick cloud of cigarette smoke all around, but still, you can perfectly see him. He’s standing alone, his skin changing colors under the neon lights, a plastic cup in his hand, eyes crystal blue and swollen and fixated on you.

The room is small and everything feels known but unfamiliar at the same time; the atmosphere, his gaze, the lump on your throat.

They’re suffocating you, the looks you give each other.

-

“Buck, what do you want?” Sam asks, holding both vodka and gin and he observes the way Bucky merely turns his head to look at him.

What do you want Bucky?

Not to play a role anymore. For Steve to be back. Maybe, Natasha. No, he hasn’t thought about her in a month. Perhaps a Pulitzer Prize. Definitely a new pair of sunglasses. But there is one more answer he has behind his teeth.

Y/N, he almost says. Always.

“Vodka.”

-

He leaves before midnight and you can’t remember where the urge came from, yet you’re following him. You know he has noticed. But he just keeps walking until he reaches the door of his dorm and presses his back against it. He sees you and you see him and his eyes cut your heart open.

“Your place is on the other side of the building.”

“I know,” you mumble, “I just never got to say good job on the assignment and I wanted to.” You are unable to meet his eyes. You sound pitiful and you want to hit a wall; with your head.

Why the hell did you follow him here?

Because sometimes you do stupid things.

Bucky mockingly opens his mouth, as if shocked. It almost makes you groan.

“Did Miss high and mighty just comment something nice about me?”

“Why do you have to contradict everything I say?”

He shakes his head and you can feel your heart beat loud and irregular and it’s not because you’re mad. It’s because he’s coming closer, almost chest to chest now. And it’s because you can swear, he just glanced at your lips.

“Someone has to, you can’t act like you know everything all the time.”  

“I don’t do that, you don’t know a thing about me Bucky.”

“Oh, but I do. You’re Y/N, you like plaid skirts and Homer and dark green pens. You expect everyone to be perfect. You expect yourself to be perfect. And you always want to do the right thing.”

His pupils are dilated. Yours must be too. Bucky Barnes is dangerous and fatal. He makes your blood coil and your mouth dry. And there’s a tension, almost pain, almost agony, deep in your lungs and it burns. And you don’t know who leaned in first, probably you because Bucky isn’t that brave yet, but suddenly your hands are everywhere. Your fingers blending in his hair, his digging in the skin on the back of your neck. He’s bringing you closer and it’s a mess and all you can hear is the beating of your heart; a rapid vibration between your ears. It’s pure and raw and it doesn’t hurt anymore.

He tastes like ambrosia and a year-old despair and you think you can go on forever. You eventually break apart because you both need to breath and for a second you worry because he looks like he’s ready to cry, but instead he smiles, softly touching your cheek.

“Did I do the right thing?” You whisper.

...

feedback is so appreciated and motivates me tons, thank you :)

[fridayfirefly]

Sunrise on Gotham

Read Sunrise on Gotham on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 29 - Wait!

Gotham wasn’t Marinette’s first choice for the location of their class trip. In fact, the grim American city hadn’t even made her top ten list. Marinette wanted to go to Amsterdam, a city rich with history and culture. But when Mm. Bustier announced that a vote for the class trip location would be held, the class voted almost unanimously. After all, Lila’s long-distance boyfriend, Damian Wayne, lived in Gotham. Wouldn’t it be great for Lila to be reunited with him? And Lila traveled so frequently that she had already visited all of the other cities Mm. Bustier suggested. Would it be fair to make her go visit a city she had already been to? Marinette scoffed as she overheard the class discussion. She knew that this was just another one of Lila’s lies, perfectly designed to manipulate the people around her into doing what she wanted.

Marinette kept her mouth shut while her classmates all decided to vote for Gotham. But that didn’t stop her from putting her checkmark next to Amsterdam on the ballots Mm. Bustier passed out. Maybe that would have been the end of Marinette’s bitterness if Lila hadn’t “accidentally” glanced at the ballots on Mm. Bustier’s desk she was leaving the classroom. Marinette could still remember Lila’s sickeningly sweet voice, feigning concern for Marinette, asking why Marinette wanted to go to Amsterdam so badly.

As Marinette scrambled for an answer, Alya turned to her with cruelty in her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re trying to sabotage Lila and Damian’s reunion. You’re so selfish, Marinette.”

Marinette didn’t bother replying - it never helped. As she left the classroom that day, she could see the disappointment in Adrien’s eyes. Her crush on the blonde model had long since faded, and alongside it went the rose-colored glasses she used to see him through, back when they were both thirteen. Now, four years later, all she saw was a selfish boy who cared more about avoiding conflict than actually solving problems.

Four months later, the plane landed in Gotham just as the sun began to rise. As her class walked from the airport to the hotel, Marinette felt herself zone out. Even though it wasn’t her first choice, Marinette could still appreciate the sight that was the Gotham skyline. Looming silver skyscrapers were framed by the gray, cloudy sky. As Marinette took in her surroundings, she began to wish that she could stop and get her sketchbook out. Ideas for a Gotham-themed fashion line popped up in her mind like weeds, and she needed to stop and pick them before she could properly zone back in. Gray was a color she had never properly worked with, which would make incorporating the color a nice way to challenge herself. In her mind, shades of gray instinctively started organizing themselves into the different ways she could pair them together.

“Wait!” A hand grabbed Marinette’s arm, pulling her back. Marinette gasped as she realized that she was about to walk onto the street, straight into traffic. She whipped around to face her savior.

The first thing Marinette noticed was his height. She was used to feeling short, at 5′2″, most people were taller than her. But he seemed to dwarf her. She figured he was 6′0″ at least. The second thing she noticed was the look of concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Marinette nodded jerkily, trying to control her breathing. Having a panic attack alone in the middle of downtown Gotham would be just about the worst thing for her to do. She was supposed to be Ladybug, the savior of Paris, yet she was so unaware of her surroundings in a completely foreign city that she almost got killed in traffic. “I’m okay, I was just daydreaming,” she babbled, “Usually I’d be more aware of my surroundings, but I just got off of the plane and I’m not used to jetlag.”

The stranger had a bemused smile on his face as he walked her talk. Marinette blushed as she realized how dumb she must look to the handsome stranger. “Your accent, is it French?”

Marinette nodded. “I just got here from Paris. I’m on a class trip.”

“Where’s the rest of your class?”

Marinette looked around, trying to figure out which way her class went, but they were already gone, out of sight. “I’m not sure...” She trailed off. “But I have the address for the hotel on my phone, so I’ll be able to catch up with them there.”

“Gotham is known for being difficult to navigate. I can take you there if you’d like.”

“Sure,” said Marinette, pulling her phone out to check the address. “It’s called the Gotham Grand Hotel. It's on the corner of 7th Avenue and 22nd Street.”

“That’s about twelve blocks away. It’s pretty far. Are you sure you’re up for the walk?”

Marinette nodded. “I’m sure I can make it."

His smile returned as he introduced himself. “I’m Damian, by the way.”

“I’m Marinette,” Marinette introduced herself as Damian led the way.

A moment later, Damian's phone started to ring. He answered it while still walking. "Hello.”

A brief pause, then. “I’m on 4th Avenue, by the Starbucks.” Another pause as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone conversation. “I’m not free right this moment, but I will be in a few minutes." Another pause. "I'm helping someone get around the city. She got a little lost on her school trip, and you and I both know that the city isn't exactly safe when you don't know your way around it."

Marinette was beginning to wonder who exactly Damian was talking to, but she didn't want to be rude and interrupt. Instead, she got her phone out of her pocket and sent a quick text to Alya, telling her that she would be a little late because she got disoriented on the hectic Gotham streets.

"I'll be free until five tonight. Father's insisting that I come and have dinner with the family, and I have my internship afterward, from seven to nine." Another pause, this one longer. "I suppose that would work. I was planning on going out to eat at some point, anyway. I'll just have to ask Marinette if she's okay with it."

Damian put the phone down and turned to face Marinette. "My boyfriend, Jon, offered to pick us both up and drop you off at your hotel on our way to get brunch. If you don't feel comfortable with that, I understand."

"Oh, it's perfectly fine," Marinette assured him.

Damian frowned slightly before replying to his boyfriend. Marinette knew that Damian probably thought she wasn't being cautious enough, but she didn't care. After four years as Ladybug, Marinette was confident that she was capable of taking care of herself.

A minute later, a car pulled up beside them. “This is Jon’s car,” said Damian as he grabbed the door for her.

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled in return as she pulled her suitcase in after her. "Hello, Jon. I'm Marinette."

"Welcome to Gotham, Marinette." Jon leaned past the driver's seat to shake her hand. Marinette noticed that he had a very friendly face: a nice smile and kind eyes. "How are you enjoying the city?"

"It's nicer than I expected, I suppose, but I didn't exactly have high expectations. Gotham has a reputation in Europe for being the worst tourist destination in America."

Damian nodded. "That sounds like Gotham. It'll grow on you, though."

"Like a fungus," added Jon.

"If you say so." Marinette cast a distasteful look out the window of the car at the gray streets.

"Do you have any plans for lunch?" asked Jon.

Marinette shook her head. "Not really. The hotel has a restaurant on the ground floor, but their lunch menu is pretty limited. I'm vegetarian, so my only option is a salad."

"Would you like to come to brunch with us?" offered Jon.

"Are you sure you want me there?" Marinette didn't want to be a third wheel if brunch was supposed to be a date between Jon and Damian.

"Of course," said Damian.

"Alright. I don't think I'll be missing anything if I go with you. Our itinerary keeps us pretty busy at the beginning of the trip, but we were given today to rest up, to help get rid of the jetlag. I switched my sleep schedule a week ago, though, so my body is already running on Gotham time.”

Damian nodded thoughtfully. “Do you want to check the itinerary, just to be sure?”

Marinette shrugged. “It can’t hurt to check it one more time.” She pulled the paper out of her suitcase. “Our class doesn’t have anything planned until tonight. We have dinner at a restaurant called..." Marinette consulted her itinerary, "The Coast, and then we’re seeing Wicked at one of the theaters downtown.”

“I've been to The Coast before with my family. They have very good vegetarian options. It is very expensive for a high school class trip,” Damian noted.

“I go to an accelerated school. The school has a very large budget, due to the amount of tuition, and the number of alumni who give back to the school.” Marinette shrugged, a nervous tick. She didn’t like talking about how much her tuition cost. Even with her 50% scholarship to Francois Dupont, tuition was still a struggle sometimes. Her parents didn’t make that much money from the bakery, and compared to the elite professions of some of her classmates' parents, Marinette was often considered to be poor. It left her feeling out of place, guilty every time she felt embarrassed by her working-class parents.

“That sounds-“

Marinette continued to babble. “I’m grateful for the opportunities that François Dupont gives me. Much more grateful than a lot of my classmates, anyway. Some of them only read the itinerary for the first time on the plane ride to Gotham. One of my classmates, Chloé, threw a fit because she believed that the entire trip would be a shopping spree through Gotham. Other students got mad for other reasons. One of my classmates made some promises that she had no business making - telling everyone that we would be getting way more free time than we were actually given. It’s a shame. I used to love being a part of Mme. Bustier’s class, but everything fell apart after...”

Marinette stopped half-way through her sentence and stared down at her hands as she realized that tears had sprung to her eyes. She felt the red flush of embarrassment begin to overtake her face. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. It sounds like you have a lot going on with your class at the moment."

"That's putting it mildly," said Marinette. "It's been... difficult, to say the least."

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Jon.

Marinette shook her head. "Not really. Even if Gotham wasn’t my first choice for our class trip, I still want to at least try to have a good time.”

“What was your first choice?” asked Damian, a hint of curiosity to his voice.

“Amsterdam,” said Marinette longingly. “But Lila wanted to visit her boyfriend in Gotham, Damian Wayne, so the whole class ignored the fact that Gotham is the most crime-ridden city in America, all so that Lila could visit her boyfriend.”

Damian looked shocked. “Did she say her boyfriend is Damian Wayne?“

Marinette nodded. “Uh, yeah.”

Jon snorted. “I know that you like girls too, Damian, but I figured you would tell me before adding a third to our relationship.”

Damian rolled his eyes, quipping back something just as clever. Marinette was too stunned to listen, as she realized that the rich and powerful Damian Wayne whom Lila claimed to be dating was the same Damian who helped Marinette on the streets of Gotham. Marinette stuttered out, “I didn’t- I didn’t realize that you- you’re Damian Wayne.”

Damian chuckled. “I can tell. I have to admit, I’m not used to not being recognized. I'm pretty famous around Gotham."

“The Billionaire Bisexual Ice Prince of Gotham,” quoted Jon with a grin on his face. “The tabloids love Damian.”

“It’s unfortunate, but it can’t be helped. The tabloids obsess over everything even slightly unconventional, and to them, the bisexual bastard son of billionaire Bruce Wayne is the perfect target. Even more so when he started dating another man.” Damian's voice was smooth, but there was an undercurrent of bitterness to it. Marinette got the sense that he didn't often open up about his relationship, for fear that the media would not be kind about it. Marinette sympathized. Françoise Dupont had been a progressive school: they had a GSA and a no-tolerance policy (not that the policy was ever upheld). She hadn’t been bullied, per se, for being bisexual, but she had experienced the all too familiar feeling of being othered for who she happened to love.

“Nice use of alliteration,” said Jon. His words would have lightened the mood if it wasn’t for the slight strain to his voice.

It was obvious to Marinette that this was a sore subject between the boys. “So how long have you two been dating?” asked Marinette, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Two years, but we’ve been friends since middle school,” answered Jon. “Damian was the world's most uptight twelve-year-old, so I took it upon myself to get him to loosen up. We became friends and everything since then just sort of fell into place.”

“An apt recounting, even if it omitted some pertinent details.” Damian conceded.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that I was the one to ask you on a date, and you were so shocked that I had figured out that you were bisexual that you dropped the glass in your hand, shattering it,” teased Damian.

“I thought I was being subtle about it,” Jon defended.

Marinette giggled. If she could just spend all of her time with Jon and Damian, rather than her class, she might just have fun on her class trip.

Damian turned to Marinette. “He had a pride pin on his jacket and listened to Carly Rae Jepsen. Subtlety is not, and has never been one of Jon’s string suits.”

Marinette noted that she had a pride pin of her own attached to the front strap of her backpack. Most people never took any note of it - Marinette had quite a few pins on her backpack - but Marinette got the feeling that Damian was aware of it.

"We're here," said Jon, parking the car in front of a little café.

"Café Carlisle has good vegetarian options," Damian assured her as he opened up her car door and helped her out. "They make a superb gourmet grilled cheese sandwich and tomato basil soup. I would recommend it to anyone."

"That's pretty high praise. I get the sense you don't give false compliments."

"I don't." It was a simple answer. Marinette was beginning to get a clearer picture of Damian, who didn't waste unnecessary words but was never afraid to speak his mind.

"Then it had better live up for expectations," teased Marinette.

Damian smiled at her as he held open the door to the restaurant. "It will."

As Damian led Marinette to a booth in the back of the restaurant Marinette caught sight of the reflection of her little group in one of the windows. There was a look on Jon's face that Marinette wasn't sure how to interpret. He had a smile on his face, but it wasn't the joking smile Marinette saw a lot of in the car. It was more of an indulgent smile, giving Marinette the sensation that Jon knew something that she didn't. Marinette wanted to turn around and ask him what it meant, but part of her brain begged her not to ruin this budding friendship before it had even begun.

Marinette had only known Damian and Jon for twenty minutes but already had the strangest feeling that there was a connection between them, some sort of relationship that needed nothing more than a little bit of shown vulnerability to create a deep bond. The only thing Marinette could think to liken it to was love at first sight, but it was beyond that. This wasn't infatuation or obsession (both of which Marinette knew well from her days of crushing over Adrien). This was deeper. This was the knowledge that Damian and Jon had seen her vulnerability and had embraced it, showing vulnerability in their own way. Neither boy had said it out loud, but given that they had both closed themselves off from physical affection as soon as they were in public, Marinette made the assumption that any sort of public display of affection was off-limits to them anywhere that the tabloids could see. It put the fact that they had been incredibly open about their relationship in a new light. It reassured Marinette that she wasn't just imagining their connection. Damian and Jon must have felt similarly about her to be able to talk to her about their relationship.

"Marinette?" Damian spoke her name, snapping Marinette out of her thoughts.

Marinette blushed. "Sorry, I tend to daydream a lot."

Damian smirked. "I'm aware. You almost wandered right into traffic the last time I caught you daydreaming."

Jon stifled a laugh. "What could you possibly be thinking of that would make you so focused that you managed to ignore the traffic right in front of you?"

Marinette launched herself into a spiel about her newest design inspiration, explaining as she went that she was incredibly passionate about fashion and designs and that her designs often had her zoning out for hours at a time. Jon and Damian looked so interested in her explanation that Marinette blushed, not used to having anyone's undivided attention.

Marinette wasn't yet certain where she stood with Damian and Jon in terms of the relationship between the three of them, but she couldn't wait to find out.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[maggiec70]

Another Review, This One about Marie-Antoinette and the Revolution I promise that this is the last one for some time. Thanks for being kind and not slamming me for my indulgence.

Trianon: A Novel of Royal France

Elena Maria Vidal [aka Mary Russell, and self-published by her Mayapple Press]

Prelude: I originally posted this review two years ago, in May 2013, where it received a 50/50 split between helpful and not helpful votes. Normally I wouldn’t care what sort of votes or comments any of my reviews attracted, since my reviews are simply my opinion of the books I buy—or borrow—and read. However, two of the many vehement and outspoken fans of this writer were so livid that I disliked this book that they expressed their outrage by posting one-star reviews on a book I wrote, which neither of them read, and boasted about their little exploit on comments to someone else who shared them with me. So to prevent further damage, I removed this review. But I’m not happy with the path of least resistance. If I wanted that I’d never give any review less than five stars, right? So I am reposting this review, and I expect some of the folks who adore Trianon because of its overarching theme of Christian/Catholic piety and forgiveness will return here with their most un-Christian brickbats. Let’s see how long it takes…

My Review originally posted on Amazon and Goodreads in 2013, and removed in 2019:

No author can deliver either “The True Story” or “The Real Personality” of anyone. No author whose work is liberally larded with endnotes and a dense, lengthy bibliography can do it. No author who admits she or he is writing historical fiction can do it, either, despite “years of research.” A writer is only as credible as his or her research, and if the writer approaches the arduous task of research with preconceived ideas, or conducts research as if it were some sort of divine mission, the resulting work will have problems.

This story of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette has problems--a great many of them. In her preface, the author states that all characters were real people, which is perfectly true. She states that the “incidents, situations and conversations are based on reality.” That claim is not so true. Whose version of reality, for example, are we to believe?

From the preface we know immediately that the author’s work is an “attempt to correct many of the popular misconceptions” about Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette. She claims that these misconceptions have been promoted by “secular and modernist historians,” and asserts Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette can “only be truly understood in view of the Catholic teachings to which they adhered and within the context of the sacrament of matrimony.” Surely no one takes this allegation seriously? If you do, then it is like saying these two people were defined then--and are being defined now--by nothing other than their religion and their marriage. Even someone with minimal knowledge of this period of history knows better that that. But there is more in this vein: “The apocalyptic events through which [Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette] lived dealt a serious blow to Christendom from which we have not yet recovered.” Certainly no reasonable person with any knowledge of history can believe the entire French Revolution was either apocalyptic or a lingering canker on the body of civilization. To be perfectly fair, the author warned me of her mindset, but I really couldn’t wait to see how Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette would be rehabilitated, cleansed of all the failings and wickedness unjustly assigned to them by all the secular historians who believe the vile, revolutionary propaganda, and then magically transformed into two of the most saintly people ever to rule anywhere at any time.

This story is hagiography, not history, and not even good historical fiction. The author uses hyperbole, hysteria, cloying 19th century-style purple prose, clichés, and some sophomoric punctuation and dialogue. I can understand wanting to show one’s readers another side of a person, or in this case, an entire family, and show this aspect based on solid research if one is a historian, or less strenuous research if one is not. However, I can’t understand inundating a reader on every page with glowing, breathless, adjective-laden descriptions of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette, a few of their family members, and even fewer lesser folk. In order to further emphasize the too-good-to-be-true nature of the king and queen, their children, the king’s sisters, and the queen’s intimate friends, everyone else in Paris or Versailles or Le Petit Trianon is simply bad, or immoral. These morally bankrupt folks include intellectuals or freethinkers, atheists, Freemasons, philosophes, Protestants, Jews, and every single revolutionary of every single political stamp.

I find it hard to accept, for example, that Marie-Antoinette had the most radiant skin in all of Europe, perhaps the world, or that Louis XVI was so much like Saint Louis, the crusader king. Especially amusing was the second chapter supposedly seen from the nine-year-old Madame Royale’s point of view, which provided a wealth of details of the largesse, magnanimity, and saintly nature of her parents. This chapter also provided a wealth of details about the sweet, kind, delicate, and utterly beautiful intimate friends of the queen, de Polignac and de Lamballe. Of course, most of these details are well outside the purview of a child, and expressed in a style foreign to a nine-year-old.

There are some entertaining inaccuracies throughout the book, which makes me wonder about all those alleged years of research, and some hilarious bits that I do hope never appeared in any historical document. Ever. For example, Marie-Antoinette’s lengthy conversation with Madame Elisabeth about her opposition to French aid to the American “rebels”--those dreadful people rising up against their lawful king, inspired by Benjamin Franklin’s Masonic cabal--had me on the floor. For all I know, Antoinette may have said this, as well as the absolute drivel that followed about how admired Louis XVI was, even to the extent that her brother, Joseph, allegedly came to France to see “for himself why [her] husband was so loved by his people.” Despite the author’s magnificent--and completely specious--spin on the nature of Louis XVI’s and Marie-Antoinette’s utter lack of intimacy in the first six to seven years of their marriage, Joseph came to talk to his brother-in-law about the facts of life. There is not, I think, any evidence for the claim that Louis XVI was universally beloved by his people, even the “simple people” or the peasants, as the author loves to go on and on about, though she does so in a noticeably patronizing manner. There is definitely no evidence for the claim that the much-maligned philosophes and freethinkers feared Louis XVI “despite their derisive and nasty comments [about the king].” I was also intrigued by Louis XVI’s comment about how the birth of his son and heir “nearly coincided with his [??] victory over the British at Yorktown.” Such hubris from a would-be saint, and completely inaccurate, of course.

When the Estates-General met on May 5, 1789, Louis XVI’s speech to the assembled delegates was “magnificent...echoing with all the ardor and majesty of the Bourbons.” Not according to quite a number of delegates among all three estates, including some underwhelmed clerics in the First Estate; they said Louis mumbled, was nervous, and mostly inarticulate. The good, kind, benevolent governor of the Bastille, the marquis de Launay, was indeed attacked by the sans-culottes, but “the dreadful Marquis de Sade” was most definitely not in residence in the Bastille, having been released from the Bastille ten days earlier. It is also difficult to claim there was nothing but “flimsy evidence” against Louis XVI at his trial, and the only charge brought was that he gave money to the poor “to enslave the nation.” There were thirty-three specific charges, most of which were substantiated by copies of the king’s correspondence found in the infamous iron box in the Tuileries Palace. I was amazed at the statement that on September 2, 1792, “there began five days of carnage unlike anything Paris had experienced since the days of the barbarian invasions.” Apparently the author hadn’t heard about Catherine de Medici, regent for her son, Charles IX, who ordered the Saint Bartholomew’s Day massacre on the occasion of her daughter’s marriage to Henry of Navarre. In that case, a Catholic queen ordered the deaths of more than 3,000 French Huguenots in Paris alone, twice that of the casualties of the September massacres. Sometimes history can be inconvenient for the story one is trying so desperately to tell. Madame Royal’s husband did not go to Italy to fight Napoleon, thus proving himself to be a brave and able soldier. He commanded a cavalry regiment in the Bavarian army and fought not Napoleon but General Jean Moreau at Hohenlinden. It was a decisive French victory, and the duke was certainly on the wrong side of it. Napoleon was not a friend to Maximilien Robespierre; he knew his brother Augustin, and was actually imprisoned briefly after Robespierre was executed on 9 Thermidor because of his alleged Jacobin sympathies. Napoleon did not “fire grapeshot upon a crowd of poor peasants rebelling against the revolution.” He fired on a faction of the Royalist army led by émigrés and outnumbering Bonaparte’s forces roughly six to one. But grapeshot is indeed a great crowd leveler.

In her effort to sanctify Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette, the author has criminalized virtually everyone else. This trend begins with the Assembly of Notables in 1787, and continues unabated until the last page. The king, the queen, the various mesdames of France, the friends, the children--all are saintly, heroic, courageous, full of fortitude, true to their faith, and so forth and so on. The revolutionaries are all several rungs below beasts, and made up of unrelentingly bloodthirsty, vicious, crude, nasty, and godless mobs who tear innocent folk apart. This is black and white, and it does not work. It is dishonest, it is inaccurate, and it is, at the end of the day, just plain ridiculous. Even Georges Lefebvre, the respected French Marxist historian of the Revolution, was far more subtle in his description of the entirety of this great event in terms of economic determinism that this author is here with her maudlin, hagiographic portrayal of two people who were, after all, not much in the way of royalty. Their deaths define them far more than their lives ever did, I think.

The most dishonest aspect of this book is, of course, the shrill insistence that Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette were somehow Super Catholics, that their faith was deeper and more worthy than anyone else’s, except for a select few family members, and that they were defined by their Catholic faith. I think that is the author’s view, not how the king and queen would see it. Either way, to view anyone through the single prism of religion--or gender, or political affiliation, or economic status--or any other lone defining characteristic is to fail to understand anything at all about the person, or persons, or the age in which they lived.

There are legions of folks who gush endlessly and fatuously about Marie-Antoinette, if one considers the amount of historical fiction churned out about her. There are probably enough folks who think Louis XVI was worthy of sainthood, as was Marie-Antoinette. The Church did not—and has not—come to that conclusion. There was nothing remotely special about these two royals, other than the fact that they were wrong for the times in which they lived, rather like Nicholas II and Alexandra. Oh, well, some Russians are also trying to turn them into saints.

Postscript: The enraged, saintly author of this saintly garbage attacked me personally for my review, as well as a review of a friend of mine. Then she tried to contact our employers to complain about what dreadful people we were. She indulged in several inflammatory screeds on her blog, Tea at Trianon, that were clearly beyond the pale, and it was here that she doxed both me and my friend.

I got her banned from Goodreads and all her reviewing privileges removed from both Amazon and Goodreads.

I also find it eminently fitting that she launched another blog in 2016, this one in support of all things Trump.

[ren-c-leyn]

Happy WBW Ren! So there is a village with scars from the Mad War?👀 Am I getting a bit of nostalgic melancholy something was lost but we continue on theme vibe...?

What were the consequences of the Mad War anyway? It must have been a large scale conflict that influenced the world and adventures in how they are today.

Other than that I would like to ask how your projects are going in general, I like me some Ren work updates^^

@writingonesdreams

Happy WBW to you too, Dreams~! :D

Very good and very relevant questions. I've been developing the Mad War and it's impact more closely recently since it's been coming up more and more, such as the village in question.

There are many towns, villages, fortresses, and even cities that still bear the scars of the Mad War. The one in question comes up in the first chapter of the Stormy Road Ahead arc. So, while it is unfortunately unavailable to be read in full at the moment, I have decided to paste it's description below your customary read more, since you are one of my favorite enablers and have been a huge help in motivating me to work hard on multiple projects. So, hopefully that'll help paint the scene for you as you go through my long, rambling explanation of the history of the Mad War, it's effects, and so on.

So, I hope you're in your comfy chair, and allow me to just hand you your gold star now because I think this is my longest ramble to date. If you have follow up questions, you know where to set your bait to lure more rambling out of me.

Happy reading ~!

(Warning, there are mild spoilers in here. 1 paragraph of text from The Stormy Road Ahead arc and some mild story elements of The Guild Masters' arc. Nothing too major, but if you don't like spoilers, you may want to throw this in your drafts until after you've gotten past chapter 1 of The Stormy Road Ahead arc. Also, trigger warnings for both people and animal deaths. Tread lightly if this sort of thing bothers you.)

This place had a different feel than that town. Older, quieter. Like the guild hall separated two completely different eras in time instead of neighboring settlements. This place seemed far more familiar with Trouble's well of sorrows as well. Some of the buildings bore scars where newer materials had been used to fill gaping wounds. Hollowed trunks of broken trees stood like tombstones in some of the yards, while others housed the ruins of long destroyed homes. Not such an odd sight in the world outside of the towers, but it still saddened him each and every time. The Mad War had taken much from many. ~ The Shackles of Time chapter 17 - The Stormy Road Ahead, Part 1.

So, yeah, this sense of lose and melancholic nostalgia is a running theme with The Shackles of Time. I knew it was going to be present since I had the Mad War, Wyndulin and The Time Keeper's backstories, and a bit of the history behind The Dawn Isle guild figured out before hand, but I wasn't expecting it to be quite as in the spotlight as it is. Not that I mind, it's an interesting aspect to the story. It is, however, something I do need to be careful about how I balance. It'd be easy for the entire story to get swallowed by it if it's mishandled.

So, I'm going to start this with a bit of a heads' up, some of this stuff will come up in character in The Guild Masters' Meeting arc. So, if you want Wyndulin's take on this, chapter 3 of it has him talking through it with a younger guild master. It also has his friend, and fellow legend, Monster Slayer Myria talking about her experiences with pre-Mad War life. So, yeah, there's some extra context for you later regarding the culture shift as the people themselves see it.

Now, The Mad war isn't actually wasn't that long ago. It actually was less than 50 years ago, a very short time in the grand scheme of things. However, it is widely regards as the death of an era and the birth of a new one, that is how destructive and devastating it was and how far reaching it's consequences were. The Mad War, as it was dubbed by particularly dramatic bards, was the result of the Mad God, a literal divine God, opening ancient portals to other realms fully.

These portals are known as The Shadow Gates. Not much is known about them, but they are forged out of an extremely strong material that no current means can harm, and seem to be one way portals only. I imagine a few mad mages have tried various experiments to get to the other sides, but if anyone of them succeeded, no one has heard tale of it. No one knows who or what created them, or exactly how ancient they are, but they have been referenced throughout the entirety of history. Documents recovered from the lost cities and other ruins even occasionally speak of them with aw and horror.

The Shadowed Gates are, most famously, where most the monsters that plague the world came from. It is theorized that they are also where the massive monsters who giant bones dot the landscape also came from back in a forgotten age where they were flung fully open, though there is no hard evidence of this. What is known for certain is that they seem to fluctuate in activity, leading to eras that have more monsters and chaos than others. They are basically indestructible, though hundreds of people have tried. And they are where The Mad God got his army from.

He opened all of the gates and invited the monsters and fiends to cross through the threshold and then gained control over them, organizing and coordinating their attacks against mortals. It is uncertain how many died. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Maybe more. The places hit hardest were the regions closest to the gates. Entire cities were destroyed over night, armies slaughtered, fields burnt, and even the wildlife devoured. After the initial shock of the event, the armies, adventurers' guilds, mages' guilds, and mercenary guilds started coordinating and working together. They set up battle lines to halt the advance of the monsters and fiends, but could not gain ground against them. They were fighting a God after all. Then, The Time Keeper put forth her theory of sealing the gates and the Mad God. The leaders agreed, and the mages set to work.

While The Time Keeper was an active participant in the battles, her most important contribution to the war was helping develop the seals that were used on the gate and then tear a hole into the divine realm and battle the Mad God before sealing him away as well. The Time Keeper paid a very, very steep cost for this victory however, one she's still struggling to come to terms with.

There are some guilds of all kinds that were wiped out during The Mad War, some cities that were completely lost and never rebuilt, and a major shift in religion. Angry mobs attacked temples, priests and priestesses turned their backs on the Gods, people threw their faith away or turned to other entities to put their beliefs in, such as spirits. The few temples that remain are mostly attended and up-kept by those who are very entrenched in the old ways and those whom believe the Mad God was not a true god or had been driven mad by some corrupting force, though no shrines are left for the Mad God. Even his name was stripped from the records. It is actually illegal in every country with a Shadow Gate in or near it to speak his name, little alone worship him. He is to be forgotten. Though I am sure there are a few secret doom cults that still worship him in secret and seek to return him.

During the Mad War, there were several books and guides written by seasoned adventurers on monsters. Their behaviors, typical tactics, strengths, and weaknesses all written out and illustrated. They were produced in mass and passed out to mercenaries, mages, soldiers, volunteer fighters, and rookies to help them better fight in the Mad War. This was a major boon during the war and also assisted in the eradication efforts against the monsters of the guilds after the Mad War was over, which helped contribute to the current era of relative peace.

However, with as much and as complete as the destruction was, many people had to find new ways to live. Sources of every day essentials were destroyed, people who had been hulled up in protected places often returned to find their homes and businesses and means to make a living destroyed, families were broken apart in the chaos and unable to find each other, among hundreds of other tragedies that completely reshaped peoples' lives. I imagine food was a huge issue during and after the Mad War due to the slaughter of livestock and the ruin of farms, but there probably was very limited access to any sort of goods with trade routes in such disarray. It lead to the increase of traveling merchants and the rise of several merchants' guilds, many of whom still hold a great deal of power over the moving of goods and maintenance of trade routes after establishing themselves in the aftermath of the Mad War.

On an interesting note that probably had more of an effect on the war than the aftermath of it is is that the era before the Mad War was one in which the gates were seeing elevated activity. So there were more monsters, more attacks, creatures getting bold enough to try their luck in cities, and also random dragon raids until The Time Keeper put a stop to that. It was a very hard time to be alive, but as a result there were more people who were raised learning to wield at least simple tools as efficient weapons, learning magic, and other means to protect themselves. It was also a generation prone to making tough choices and had to be willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of survival. I think that that may have been a big factor in Mortals' success against the Mad God and his hoards. They had experience in dealing with monsters, in fighting for their lives, and still they lost so much.

Now, you and I have talked at length about some of the other cultural shifts related to this event, like the adventurer's guilds and their relationships with the people and their reputations and affects on the culture. So I believe that's all I have for the first part of my answer right now.

As for your update - I don't have much to report. I've been working more on the Anniversary specials and I've recently picked up Stardew Valley on a steam sale and yeeeaaah, that game is super addicting and has been a fun break to let my brain rest between bouts of sudden creative sprints, so a lot of my writing has taken a bit of a backseat for the moment. I do still have a bit of an update for you, though. :D

I'm almost finished with the second piece of the Anniversary event special posts. Yes, I am still only on the second. It turned out to be way more complicated than I was originally expecting but it is coming out well. I'm glad I started these pieces way early, because I may not have been able to get all of this prepped in time, otherwise. Though I imagine the next piece is also going to be a bit complex, particularly since the format is new for me. But I think that even with me working with a new thing, the third celebration piece will probably be your favorite of all that I have planned, and the only spoiler I will give for it is the link to the incorrect quote that inspired it:

I confirmed how the elf prince was assassinated in Dark Princess wip. I went for the theatrics over the practicality and then reverse-engineered the reason for why they went with a flashy method because I loved the mental image that much that I decided to latch stubbornly on it. The joys of self-indulgent writing, lol. But the very flashy and public assassination method will also make some of the more mystery-like aspects a bit easier on me. So, that's a big step forward. I may have enough to start it soon, but I want to clear some stuff off my plate first since Dark Princess is a big, delicate project with a ton of moving pieces. It's probably not going to get the green light until I at least get Forgotten Gods' draft 2 out of the way, and may not begin until I get a lot of Shackles of Time chapters banked. It's definitely one that I'm going to have a notes document to keep track of everything on because the small details are going to be critical.

I'm playing with some ideas for the trio's third quest and the final part of Glenn and Zephyr having to tag along with them. I haven't quite decided on one yet, but I'm also thinking about another arc before their third quest due to some things that cropped up during the final chapter of The Guild Masters' arc that may make more sense overall, though it will keep the trio at the guildhall longer. Which might not be a bad thing since I have some plot threads and foreshadowing for future events I can pull on there. Plus, I'm missing some of those side characters. On the other hand I have a big, shiny chaotic world I want to drag the characters through.

So, I guess we'll all see what I decide to do after I wrap up the Stormy Road Ahead arc when I get there. Not sure if I'm happy with how the current chapter I'm on is going, so I am probably going to back up and try writing out an alternative one to see which version I like more. It just kind of feels out of place and too much, but maybe I just need to step back for a little bit then reread the arc as a whole. We'll see.

So, yeah. I'm still cooking up things, but progress will be slow for a little while.

Thanks for stopping by, Dreams~! have a lovely day/evening.

[jaxsteamblog]

Flirt

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

Katara straightened her crown in the mirror, turning her head side to side to make sure it was straight. Her wavy hair had resisted the pin, and the thickness certainly fought the top knot, but she had eventually managed to get the thing on.

“Are you sure it doesn’t look silly?” She asked.

Zuko came into view behind her, sliding his hands around her sides to hold her lightly. 

“As silly as mine does in modern clothes.” He replied and kissed her soundly on the cheek.

“I don’t think it’s made for hair like mine.” She muttered.

“Sounds like a design flaw, not a you flaw.” 

“Mmm.”

“Mmm?”

“MMM.”

Zuko kissed her cheek again and backed away. The loops usually at the side of her face had been pulled back to start a simple sort of braid. The beads were still present, and she was wearing her necklace, but the crown stood out as an accessory.

“I know it’s a flame, but doesn’t it look a bit like a crescent moon?” He asked.

“That’s a stretch.” Katara said.

Skittering claws came into the room and Katara turned as Druk bounded toward her. He was less than a year old but already the size of an adult owl cat. His wings were still clumsy and he could only fly short distances, yet his legs were powerful enough to send him racing down hallways.

He terrified the palace staff and greatly annoyed the also still alarmingly growing Mister Whiskers. 

“Don’t.” Zuko warned both Katara and Druk. Both of them ignored him and Druk launched himself at Katara, making her stagger as she caught him.

“He can’t jump up on people like that.” Zuko grumbled. “It’s poor manners.”

“Aww, my sweet baby just wants attention.” Katara cooed, rubbed her nose against Druk’s snout. He smelled like soot and heat, and Katara cuddled his chest close to her face. He nipped at her crown and Zuko sighed in annoyance.

“A dragon shouldn’t be carried like a toddler. It’s undignified.” He said finally and Katara turned to him. 

“How dare you say such a thing about our boy.” She said. 

“This is why he’s a brat when you’re gone.” 

“Of course, he misses his momma.” 

“You both are deranged.” 

Katara kissed Druk’s scaly head and set him down. The dragon hopped indignantly, blowing out bursts of flame.

“You know he’s going to be a terror when we have actual children.” Zuko said, holding out his arm. Katara linked to him and held on with her other hand.

“Why do we even need anymore? Let’s just crown Druk and the Fire Nation can have an actual dragon as it’s Fire Lord instead of making up all these fancy honorifics for you.” Katara said.

“If history is any indication, they might not tell the difference.” He agreed.

Walking out of their bedroom, Druk followed them closely. Having returned with a dragon, the court and the city of Caldera had changed its attitude toward Zuko. The rest of the world still thought dragons were extinct, so Druk was a miracle bestowed to their Fire Lord as a sign from the spirits. As they had all sworn an oath never to speak of Ran and Shaw, no one disabused people of that notion. 

Now, even the prime minister had quelled his adversarial politics. 

Ozai and Azula both had been recorded as having thrown massive fits about it. 

Katara and Zuko headed toward the ballroom, watching with wry amusement as the staff jumped out of Druk’s way. When they reached the massive double doors, Katara called Druk and held him again, knowing that he didn’t do very well in large groups of people. 

“Fire Lord, Fire Lady.” A member of the house staff jumped when he opened the door, seeing the royal couple on the other side. 

“We wanted to see how everything was progressing.” Zuko said.

The man glanced at Druk, curled in Katara’s arms and she smiled back at him. 

Being favored by a dragon was also helping her image at the palace as well.

“Of course.” The man said, stepping to the side. 

Katara followed Zuko inside and looked around. While Zuko himself wasn’t overly interested in celebrating his birthday, there were expectations for the Fire Lord. These expectations somehow included the Water Tribe Ambassador rearranging all of the flowers. 

A sour faced man approached them, bowing obviously to Zuko and leaving Katara in her place at his side.

“Is everything to your liking, Fire Lord?” He asked.

Zuko turned to Katara and idly scratched Druk’s crest. 

“Lady wife?” He asked.

“Yes?”

“Everything pales in comparison to the luminary beauty of yourself. I am unable to adequately judge these offerings with you standing so close to me.” 

Katara smiled and had to keep herself from laughing.

“How can I do any better? The light of your loveliness blinds me to anything else.” She remarked. 

“My most prudent and beloved queen, I beg that you give me some words to describe this room that does not degrade your glittering visage.”

“Oh honorable husband, for that you would have to leave my sight and I could not bear to stand in such darkness.”

“I think,” The sour faced man said bitterly. “I will have to trust the Fire Lady’s most esteemed brother then?”

“Sokka is a marvel, I think that might be best.” Katara said, wrinkling her nose and giving the man a patronizing look. 

The man bowed to them both and walked back to the activity. Zuko did laugh softly then and Katara turned back to him.

“Light of my loveliness?” He asked.

“Glittering visage?” She countered.

“Hey, the words may have been stuffy, but they were still true.” He replied.

“So what words would you really use?” Katara asked. 

“Hmm,” Zuko thought and took some of her hair in his hands. He stared at it as he rolled the strands under his fingers.

“I would start by saying how devious fate must be to make my love part ocean spirit as I most certainly am in danger of drowning when you’re around.” He started and twirled her hair around his fingers. “You take my breath away, but also, there are times when I don’t feel like coming up for air.”

“Zuko!” Katara whispered sharply, her face heating up in a flash. 

Zuko only smiled and released her hair.

“I would say that thank the spirits you’re brilliant because I lose all sense when I look at your face, because your beauty is enough to make a fool of any man.” He continued. “And I’d quite like an opportunity to play the fool soon.”

“Spirits, you are brazen.” Katara said with a laugh. Her grip on Druk tightened and he squeaked in annoyance. 

“Sorry Druk, I’m displacing you as your mother’s favorite.” Zuko said and scratched Druk’s neck. 

“You are always my favorite.” Katara said. “No matter what season it is in the Poles, I only feel like the sun has returned when I’m with you.” 

“I don’t see how I can compare when you are always the one lighting up the room.” 

“I wish I could paint with ink the same shade as your hair so I could write every character with the same kind of elegance.” 

“I wish I could train birds to sing in the same notes as your laughter so I could hear your joy every morning.”

“My laughter? I wish I could keep your voice with me because it soothes me better than the sound of a far off thunderstorm.” 

“I am going to vomit all over the floor if you two don’t stop.” Sokka interjected.

Katara lowered her face, blushing, but Zuko chuckled.

“Aw come on! They were being really cute!” Thuy added as she approached from behind them.

The twins that hung around Thuy, who Zuko swore were harmless, watched them with different levels of interest. Suzu looked gleeful while Zula looked bored. Or mildly irritated. She was harder to read.

“I see my wife every other season. You’re lucky we’re out of our rooms at all.” Zuko said.

“Zuko!” Katara blurted while the three teenage girls burst out laughing. Sokka only sighed and tapped the heel of his hand against his forehead. 

“Can we play with Druk, Auntie?” Thuy asked, changing the subject.

“Please.” Katara said, holding Druk out even as he clung to her in protest. “He needs to potty.”

“Thank you Auntie!” Thuy said and forcefully took the dragon, running off with him before he could break free of her grip. Suzu jogged after her and Zula walked stoically after. 

“Okay you two, try to focus for long enough to look at these terrible centerpieces.” Sokka said. “I think I’ve managed to salvage them.”

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[alistonjdrake]

June’s World Building Cheat Sheet Part Nine: Multicultural

I kind of touched on these subjects before but as I’ve been doing lately I’ve had more thoughts and I want to do a deeper dive. 

Honestly while I’ve been thinking about this for a while and briefly mentioned it in a previous post, it really hit me when I was playing Crusader King’s 3 and my character became the Norwegian-Irish Emperor of Britannia and France, and a lot of my subjects had some qualms with my cultural identity and as I watched areas of England get Norwegian-nized and names changed I started thinking about cultural markers. 

To put it simply, a “cultural marker” is basically just something to quickly pinpoint where someone is from or what their heritage is. Of course these are not always super specific and there is overlap. Like, me saying I speak English does not immediately make it obvious that I’m American. But if I talked about what I grew up eating, regional slang, some things people wore commonly, you would probably be able to narrow it down. There’s also what I tend to refer to as the stereotypical cultural markers so if someone was to say “I’m from X” what’s the first thing that comes to people’s mind that they relate to that place and that culture?

I also started thinking deeply about language and language as an extension of someone’s identity. This also stood out to me in the case of empires or in places were dozens of cultures have blended. At some point, language either is or isn’t an extension of someone’s background but the language someone does speak can say a lot about them or the area they grew up as I mentioned in my last post with regional dialects or when a certain language might be considered the “default” among some characters.

Now, as always, I have to say I do not think it’s extremely pressing to give fantasy cultures so many layers. I don’t think it’s always necessary to have a throwaway line about people speaking multiple languages in your metropolitan city or the fact that the culture is either not a monolith on its own or new people have moved in. Do I think it spices things up a little bit? Of course. That’s why I’m talking about it.

The lack of especially falls short to me in settings, as mentioned, that are empires or densely populated or considered “centers” of the world. How many times have I read a fantasy university or guild settings or these expansive cities and all the characters were more or less from the exact same place, all spoke the same language, pretty much ate the same things, and had the same opinions on anything not a huge plot point. 

So Let’s Talk About Language (Again)

I’m not gonna lie. My nerd brain loved it when my Norwegian-Irish emperor took over England and instead of the names of familiar places changing completely they were just changed to sound slightly more Norwegian while still looking enough like what it used to be. I am upset with myself for never considering this before in my own work or thinking about it when I craft fantasy worlds, especially in settings where one group or place takes over another. The language would change or there would be shifts due to either

The sounds for the original thing they’re trying to say do not exist in their language

That’s simply how they pronounce it

Maybe they were feeling frisky that day and decided to change it just because. 

I think we see this most often especially with borrowed words. When a word more or less exists in several languages maybe because they’re taking on a title or a position, it’s not so much that the word changes but each one has to put their spin on it. Not always intentionally it might just be how they say it given either the limitations of their own tongue or how they heard it. 

In my last post I began to touch on this with the introduction of people speaking the same language differently in my Grazan Escan vs “regular” Escan dialect (the basis of this discussion just that people who live in Graza in my setting speak the language slightly different than non-Grazans which sometimes makes the language hard to understand for even native speakers). Last night I had another breakdown about how much I hate the common tongue and the concept of the common tongue and I’d like to also mention that if there is going to be a “common” language in a setting, I myself tend to use Escan as the common language because Escan is an imperial nation and have intentionally spread their language all over the place so a lot of my characters speak it, I think it is important to have some context as to why a language would be so widespread/ common. Someone would have had to go to these far places and teach people how to speak this language (and somehow walk away with it having no regional differences). Why would people in this setting think it a good idea to even learn this language if they have their own and rarely communicate with people outside of their community? What is the impact of a character having to take up another language in order to? In my recently finished draft of The Night Court, due to my own temporarily fleeting memory I forgot one of the main characters was going to a place where he could not speak the language and spent that entire half of the book asking for translations and not being able to speak to certain characters directly. Which, now that I’m done with the draft I appreciate more because I’ve definitely been in situations where I’m in a new place and my poor planning and education made me the only one who couldn’t speak the language and I had to have friends help me.  

This is where language as an extension of identity comes in. Could this character have assumed that his first language was dominant enough where he could travel to new places and not have to learn anything else? Or was it just bad luck and now he feels isolated in a setting where he cannot speak to anyone? What are the implications behind someone’s first language based on where they live? I just wrote two posts now talking about Prince Toli of the Escana Empire’s first language not being Escan and how that impacted his early life and how he appears by the time we meet him in the books. What does it say about the world characters live in where what language they speak and what language they learned to speak first has such an impact?

And in the reverse, what is the perception of someone being multilingual? It is expected in a setting? It is a bonus? A requirement of certain jobs or positions? A necessity to live in certain areas? Given how much court intrigue and political scheming I write I tend to have characters switch languages to avoid spies or eavesdroppers but on the other hand it’s also easier to make new allies if you extend the branch by speaking their language. 

Are there official languages? Court languages? Trade tongues? Coded languages you’d only learn for very specific purposes? 

Clothes And Culture: Sumptuary Laws & The Fashion Police.

This is a point I missed completely in my fashion post and I’m sorry about that. As with all my “advice” I feel it important to note I don’t ever expect anyone to go the extra mile nor do I usually think people need to. These are just things I like to sprinkle into a setting to give in breathing room or background information so it doesn’t feel like it was created just to serve a story purpose, but that it’s a world people live in. 

On that note. I’m very passionate about clothing. I’m encountered a lot of fantasy fashion in my day and I understand why people don’t ever find it relevant to mention certain things but as my setting is a late 18th century world in which the common people are starting to realize that royalty kinda sucks, it’s something I can talk about.

Like, the extensive labor that goes into making sure my royal characters have 100s of different outfits. Fashion is cheaper than its ever been but that was not always the case. There’s a reason why often see people in ye old days with only like 2 outfits for any given occasion. Characters and people who had constant changes weren’t just fashion forward, they were showing off wealth whether or not that was front of mind. To give some context as a lover of historical fashion and beautifully detailed garments, I did some quick math to see how long it would take me to recreate one of my favorite gowns by and. Given the intricate details, all the delicate beading and lace and all the fabric I’d have to buy (I didn’t even get into costs) it would have taken me at minimum 50 years. 

Now does anyone need characters going around talking about how Princess Zurina is wearing a gown that would have taken one man 50 years if not for the staff of seamstresses who likely work on her wardrobe? No. If a character in a setting is a seamstress or if the story has anything to do with wealth distribution and the extravagance and waste of the super rich, sure maybe throw it in there. One half of the book I’m working on is about political cartoons criticizing the royalty and wouldn’t you know if I go back to the time period I’m basing my work off of, you can find a lot of jokes and slights towards outrageous dress because people back then understand the labor that went into these garments. 

This is where I’m going to mention sumptuary laws. Basically, whenever I do my dives into fashion history I’ll find a lot of policing towards the way people dress. I mean we still have them now but maybe they’re not as apparent to us? And a lot of them used to be more class-oriented. One should not dress above their “means” or status which is where we get certain fabrics or colors meant only for certain types of people. But it also happened in the reverse where certain groups are designated things to wear so other members of the community know who and what they are. People not being allowed to wear certain things either because they would be related to deviance or offensive. Like characters in my setting cannot wear any shade of green around the king because dark green is the Escana mourning color and it would be considered as cursing the king to die.

Are there punishments for wearing the “wrong” thing? Is exaggerated wealth or having too many outfit changes something calls criticism if the character is at the top of the food chain (or maybe criticism them no mater social standing)? Are there any unwritten dress codes in a setting that people unknowingly follow? In settings where multiple cultures might exist or people from different backgrounds exist in the same place, do their choices in dress reflect cultural markers? And is there a stark difference between traditional (to a culture) clothing and modern dress? 

I think really I’m spewing this out because I want to see more culturally rich settings that reflect some of the stuff that I think is the most interesting things about a person which is what they wear and how they speak. But again, this is a personal preference and it’s just stuff I think about. 

[lit-in-thy-heart]

you know what, what's the point of being on this platform if you don't get to bellow into the void about your interests in the hope of finding someone with the same interest?

in light of this, let me inflict a lowdown of the victorian literature (mostly novels because poetry is difficult to collate) that i've read for my module this year upon my mutuals

i'll do a separate one for vampire novels and reblog with the link

because what are the victorians without vampires? straight

bleak house (dickens): what a ride that was! yes, it was nearly a thousand pages and, yes, some chapters i was like can we move on please, but that's dickens for you. honestly, i loved it. if you're looking for thinly-veiled lesbianism, this is the book for you (esda all the way, if they even have a ship name). unfortunately i already knew one of the plot twists due to watching dickensian five years before, but there are plenty more to go around! if you can get through the first chapter describing nothing but fog and the law courts, you're in for one hell of a treat -- just don't google anything about it until you've finished because you will get spoiled (or don't share a house with me, where i'll tell you the entire plot as i'm reading it). definitely recommend, but marking it down for the heteronormativity with allan. (9.5/10)

villette (c. brontë): where to fucking start. i, quite frankly, do not care for charlotte brontë, and when reading the earlier novel agnes grey by anne, i could see some more things that charlotte has filched for this travesty. no victorian novel is going to be without problems, but this one was xenophobic, ableist and, of course, racist. the protagonist doesn't really give anything away, which is meant to make her more mysterious, but it just renders her an empty vessel. oh, and she tells you stuff that she's figured out waaaaaay after she says she's figured it out, a bit like she's allowing you to feel smart for making a connection before going 'oh yeah i knew that like twelve chapters ago, keep up'. some of the passages are really striking and there's maybe one character who's likeable but that's about it. i'd say it's more a story of omission than repression tbh. (4/10)

janet's repentance (eliot): wait, have i even finished this? no, no, i have not. it's fine, i wasn't going to tell you the ending anyway. i did get hooked eventually, there were just a LOT of names thrown around in the first few chapters, and a word that i didn't know was used frequently (turns out it was a name for the followers of this guy). i did get strong hester prynne/arthur dimmesdale vibes from some of the main characters, but janet is a very sympathetic character which, after reading villette, was nice. slightly depressing in some places, but a good enough read if you're not cramming it in the day before your tutorial, because it is mildly dense. (7/10)

the wonderful adventures of mrs seacole in many lands (seacole): not what i'd been expecting to read on my module, what with it being a biography, but enjoyable nonetheless. horrible histories lied to me, though, she was in her 40s/50s when she treated people in the crimean war, not in her 20s, but that's minor. it was actually quite funny??? like she was very reluctant to give away to give away her age and almost slipped up a couple of times, and also made some very biting remarks about people who were passing comment on her skin colour. for a biography, it wasn't hugely biographical, in that she was married for what seemed all of five minutes before her husband died, when in fact they were married for several years, but if you want an in-depth depiction of war, this is for you. not what i'd usually read, but some of the descriptions are so vivid that it does read like a novel in places, though sometimes the descriptions were so detailed that i did tune out at odd intervals. (9/10)

the happy prince and other stories (wilde): if you're feeling low, don't read these. don't. especially not 'the nightingale and the rose', because that was honestly heartbreaking. really well-written, some passages were just beautiful, i just wasn't in the right headspace to fully appreciate it. it also has a lot of death, i should probably explicitly say that. (8/10)

agnes grey (a. brontë): chef's kiss, honestly. if i'd read this last year then i think it definitely would have hit a lot harder, what with agnes moving away from home for the first time and struggling with loneliness around people who she is different from. beautifully written, i'm irritated at myself for not reading it sooner, even though i've owned a copy for about four years or so. agnes does come across as a bit wet sometimes, but those moments are rare and far between, she's overall a resilient character who is trying to make her own way in the world. seeing as i managed to get through the whole thing and didn't lose focus on what i was reading, i rate it higher than jane eyre (which is a rip-off of this anyway). we stan anne. though i am marking it down for the underdeveloped romantic relationship that just pops up (9.5/10)

now for some old classics that weren't taught on my module, but i can't not mention them

a tale of two cities (dickens): this was my first dickens book and oh my word what a book. yeah, okay, lucie is a bit of a wet dishcloth and has basically no personality, but there is definitely something there between her and her maid. sydney is my baby and oh so gorgeously dramatic ("you have kindled me, heap of ashes that i am, into fire"), which was perfect for the pangs of unrequited love. the plot is slightly confusing, and you don't really understand everything until right near the end, but i loved finding parallels in the chapters set in france with the chapters set in britain. oh and the showdown between miss pross and madame defarge is wonderful. i had a tradition of reading it on the run-up to christmas, just because that was the period when i read it for the first time, but i haven't done that for the past two years just because of exams and stuff. now, bleak house just pips it at the post, but i still love it dearly. (9/10)

wuthering heights (e. brontë): i couldn't review victorian literature and not include this. there are very strong similarities between this and villette (seems charlotte really drew on her sisters' work), particularly in terms of me not liking a single one of the characters except hareton. everyone is called cathy. literally. and heathcliff/cathy one is a toxic ship that should not be boarded. it is obsession, not love. the second volume is basically a repeat of the first one, thus showing that humanity will never move past its vices and will be caught in a vicious cycle of self-destruction for the rest of time. again, though, beautifully and vividly written. the characters are the type that you love to hate. (8/10)

the tenant of wildfell hall (a. brontë): what. a. book. this was a book that was simultaneously loved and condemned as scandalous when it came out. there's mystery, there's a woman escaping a horrible situation and making her own living, and there's a well-developed relationship! and the characters are likeable (i love rose, she's great, completely goes off at her brother when she has to do things for him all the time), which always puts it onto a winner. there's one chapter with gilbert that i have to skip just because i hate what he does in it. there are quite a lot of religious references, with redemption playing a huge part in the novel, but even the religious views brontë expresses went against a lot of the teachings of the anglican church at the time. do i even need to say that it's beautifully written if it's anne? marking it down for gilbert's behaviour and arguable control of helen's narrative. (9.5/10)

far from the madding crowd (hardy): i love this book. a little more uplifting than tess but still with the drama and murder you'd expect from hardy. maybe my review is influenced by my tiny crush on bathsheba: she's not the best role model but damn what a woman. gabriel isn't quite bae but i love him all the same, i'm so glad he's happy in the end. (9/10)

[prancing-uboot]

Satsuma Dads Timeline

You know how Golden Kamuy is an awesome manga full of amazing (and super-hot) characters and a great main storyline? So what do I do with it? Naturally I obsess over those two old gremlins: Koito Heiji and Hanazawa Koujirou the fathers of Second Lieutenant Koito and Ogata.

It's probably the most niche pairing ever, and I thought it was just me fixating on that one panel where Tsurumi mentioned they were close friends from Satsuma. But the more I read about the history of Satsuma and the times they lived in, the more I’m becoming convinced that there’s so much of their story written between the lines and that their relationship and tumultuous past is what actually caused and keeps together most of the GK plot. But nobody else seems to see it!

So what do I do with that? I spent my nights in front of my crazywall of historical research, trying to recreate an entire universe of events 50-years before the gold plot starts, just to be able to present to you:

The Satsuma Dads Timeline 

or

Why you Should Care for Heiji and Koujirou

~1850

Koujirou and Heiji* were born around 1850** in Kagoshima.

Heiji might have been older then Koujirou, but not more then 5 years. They were both sons of high ranking samurai (noble bloodline), serving the Shimazu clan.

* Most likely they went by other names in their youth and then changed them a bazillion times to make stuff confusing, but let's skip that.

** That would make them around the same age as Tougou Heihachiro and Nogi Maresuke ** - the chief players in the Russo-Japanese war for the navy and army. Both share a lot of biographical motives with Koujirou and Heiji and Noda might have modeled them a bit after them so I'll include the parallels where possible. I'm not sure Nogi even exists in the GK universe or was he replaced by Koujirou completely. Tougou was recently confirmed to exist. He was also a Kagoshima-boy, and grew up in the same circles so it's impossible that he and Heiji didn't know each other from childhood. 

1856-65

Koujirou and Heiji train in the same gochu in Kajiya-cho*. Gochu was a Satsuma-specific education system, relying on small neighborhood study groups in which the older samurai spent a part of their time teaching the younger everything they knew. Starting from penmanship and Confucian doctrines and ending with swordsmanship, and the unstoppable Jigen-ryu.

Teenage Heiji develops a Koito-crush*. on Saigo Takamori (20 years his senior) and follows him around like a lost puppy. Koujirou makes fun of him, but in reality he feels a bit jealous.

* Kajya-cho was a Kagoshima district known now as "Home town of Revitalization" as most of the influential Satsuma leaders of the Meiji Revolution came from there. That also meant that they directly taught the younger generations as part of the gochu. For example Tougou also came from that area. I'm not that sure Heiji and Koujirou were actually from Kajiya-cho, but it being 3km downhill from the Nanshu Cemetary would fit in nicely to the place where Tsurumi and Otonoshin first met so it's likely.

** Gochu was a completely male oriented environment, so homoerotic relations bloomed and were even encouraged (think ancient Greece), hence the term "Satsuma habit" was later used as the synonym of homosexuality in Japan. But for them then it was just a natural thing they sometimes did, and not really an orientation. Koito Otonoshin crushing on Tsurumi might be a bit old fashioned but it's just a Satsuma thing, so of course his dad is cool with that.

1866-67

Both go to Kyoto to serve Hisamitsu Shimazu and there they experience the tension of the Bakumatsu period first hand. They soak up the patriotic moods of the Sonno-Joi fraction, they hear of the the assassinations by the Shinsengumi, they feel a revolution brewing. Being a hot-headed youth in those times made keeping out of trouble very difficult.

1868-69

The Boshin War breaks out. Satsuma, Choshu and Tosa fight to abolish the Tokugawa shogunate. Heiji and Koujirou join up and dispite their young age are given officer commissions*. Coming from a long line of Satsuma’s military commanders it is what they were raised up to do. This war however is nothing like the stories they grew up on. Instead of swords it relies more on modern weapons guns and artillery. What was supposed to be a short battle with the Shogun's forces, turns into a lengthy nationwide campaign of crashing shogunate loyalists long after the Shogun himself resigned. Koujiro and Heiji fight side by side and survive all the way to see the end of it in Hakodate. 

* Only the oficers wore the super cool Satsuma black koguma wigs and I definitely do need fanart of that.

1870

Heiji and Koujiro come out of the war victorious. Most of the positions in the new government are taken by Satsuma and Choshu men, so practically any career path is open to them. Koujiro stays with the Imperial Guard while Heiji joins the Imperial Naval Academy in Tsukiji, Tokyo. They compete for the most ridiculous facial hair* and spend their off nights “drinking green liqueurs under red lanterns”

Ogata's grandfather fought** on the other side for the Mito clan (the last shogun was from the Mito-Tokugawa branch). After the defeat his family falls into poverty. They sell their daughter to an okiya because they cannot support her ***.

* The Haitourei edict from 1871 allowed samurai to cut of their chonmage and encouraged them to experiment with western haircuts.

** I’m guessing he was active in the Boshin by the fact that he had an old gun lying around.

*** This "Ogata's mom comes from a fallen samurai family" theory has been going around but I'm not super sure about the time frame here. Usually maiko get promoted to geisha when they're 20-21. That means to already be a geisha when she gave birth to Hyakunosuke she must have been at least 12 when she was sold. That's quite late for a geisha to start her education. Or I might be wrong about Hyakunosuke's birth date, but I'd really like it to be 1879, so I'm in a pickle here.

1873

Heiji finally finds the guts to propose to Yuki, his Kagoshima sweetheart. They marry and a son is born to them - Heinojou *.

Koujirou's family chooses a wife for him **. She's from a good family, likely Choshu to have some useful connections. Heiji comes to their wedding in his fancy navy uniform to congratulate them and say goodbye. He'll be going to study abroad in the France ***. Koujirou feels like it's his funeral wake.

* Heinojou's birthdate is the first solid date we have for them from the canon, so I'm basing the whole “born in the 1850s” on the fact that the expected age of a man to marry was their early 20s.

** Arranged marriage was the most commonplace in Japan then. The families picked the brides because they were most likely to spend more time with her then the husband, taking care of the house and such. 

*** In 1871 Tougou went to study abroad with 14 other cadets to Greenwich Naval Collage and that would fit so nicely. The problem is that they went 1871-1878 and Heinojou was born in 1873 *shakes fist*. There were also individual exchange programs though and since in canon Heiji is mentioned to have some french friends I figured he was sent to France.

~1876

Koujirou is stationed in Tokyo, while his wife stays in Kagoshima, taking care of the family home. He begins an affair* with Tome**, a geisha from Asaskusa. With Heiji gone she's the only person he can open his heart to.

After abolisment of the clan system and privileges of the samurai, the dissatisfied Satsuma samurai quit the Imperial Guard en-masse and go back to Kagoshima to gather around Saigo Takamori and brew a rebelion. Koujiro - by then a major - is faced with a choice: to go back with his childhood friends, or to stay loyal to the government. He chooses his career.  

* I'm guessing he must have been married already when the thing started, because marrying a geisha wasn't that unheard of and wouldn't really cause a scandal or hinder his career. All three of the Meiji prime ministers Hirobumi Ito, Taro Katsura and Yamagata Aritomo ended up marrying geisha. So Tome being a geisha was not a problem - Koujiro already having a wife was.

** Tome is a random name that Ogata used in his Sugimoto self insert fic. I love the headcanon that it's his mom's name. Because of course he makes everything personal.

1877

In January the Seinan War breaks out. Koujirou fights against his clansmen and his former war comrades *. By September most of them are dead. He is there at Shiroyama where Saigo makes his last stand. Heiji is never going to forgive him that.

When he comes back to Tokyo, Tome doesn't ask, she understands and prepares him angler nabe while he sulks.

* Koujirou's situation is by no means an unusual one. Many of the Satsuma samurai landed lucrative jobs under the new administration and didn't share the dissatisfaction of their disenfranchised clansmen. Even Saigo's own younger brother Judo stayed as a lieutenant-general in the Imperial Guard.

1878

In May, Okubou Toshimichi, the lord of home affairs, who took personal command of surpressing  Saigo's rebelion is assasinated, branded in Satsuma as traitor.

Koujiro is not welcome in Kagoshima anymore*. His wife moves to Tokyo to avoid harassment. Keeping his affair with Tome is becoming more difficult. Especially when he learns that Tome is pregnant **

In December Heiji comes back to pick up the pieces.

* Both Okubo and Saigo Judo moved their families to Tokyo because of this situation, so I'm guessing that was a thing. They received some backlash from their compatriots but eventually things normalized (for Judo at least, because Okubo was, you know, slashed up dead in an alley). By 1898 Saigo was acknowledged by the government as a tragic hero and bygones were bygones. Yet Heiji still talks with the Satsuma dialect, while Koujiro doesn’t even have a trace of it left.I wonder if he still used it when talking to Heiji.

** Geisha were not supposed to have sex with their patrons. The fact that she chose to give birth to Koujirou's son tells that she dared to hope that he'll at least acknowledge him.

1879

In January Hyakunosuke is born*

* Ogata's birthdate is a shot in the dark. He could be anywhere between 1878 and 1883. I just really like the idea that he was born right into the middle of such a chaos.

EDIT: GoldenKamuyHunting pointed out that Ogata had to be born after 1881, since Noda placed him as Older than Usami. This ruins the timeline a bit, and I’ll have to think of the way to reorder it to fit. For now, treat the 1879 as canon-defying :(

~1881

After pressure from his parents and from Heiji, Koujirou comes clean and learns to make his official family work. Koujirou's legitimate son, Yuusaku is born*. 

From now on he effectively ghosts Tome. Her mental health** begins to waver. Tome quits being a geisha and moves back to her parents in Ibaraki ***. 

* Also a shot in the dark. This would make him 23 when he died and 2 years younger than Ogata.

** Before the 20th century the white makeup geisha wore was made out of lead, making them more likely to develop lead poisoning, the first symptom of which is the decline of intelectual ability. Fun fact: lead gets passed down in breastmilk in quantities super-harmful for the baby, so if we go with the theory "Tome went crazy because of lead poisoning" than that would explain so much about Ogata...

*** This is likely due to her health, not due to giving birth. She could have just sent Hyakunosuke to her parents and kept working. God knows how they made ends meet after that. Before they were be so poor that they had to sell their daughter. Now they were much older, she was sick and unable to work, and her child was another mouth to feed. Not to mention the cost geisha education was worse then US collage loans so she most likely had a large debt she barely started to repay. Was Koujiro at least decent enough to pay child-support? Oh god *realises* it was Heiji who was paying them, wasn’t it? *heart breaks*

1886

Heiji and Yuki's second son, Otonoshin is born, 13 years after the first. What's up with that, Heiji?

1887

Koujirou goes to Germany* to study military tactics.

Hyakunosuke (8) feeds his mother rat poison. Koujirou doesn't come to the funeral.

As a result Hyakunosuke is brought up by his grandparents alone. He likes his grandma. They might instill in him the same kind of dislike for the new government as in the case of Kadokura. They definitely install a dislike for his deadbeat dad.

* Japan sent most of the promising officers abroad to soak up the knowledge how to run a modern nation. The army was mostly modeled after Germany (the Japanese were impressed by their recent victory against France) so it's the safest bet that Koujirou went to study there sometime in his life. In 1887-88 Nogi and Soroku Kawakami were sent to Germany. So it still depends if Nogi exists in GK universe and Koujirou just tagged along with them, or are they completely interchangeable.

1888

A new division is formed in Hokkaido. Tasked with guarding the north and developing the land.

1889

Heinojou (16) passes the Naval Academy entry exams with highest marks, determined to follow the footsteps of his father.

1894-95

The first Sino-Japanese war breaks out.

Heiji and Heinojou take part in the Battle of Yalu River. Heinojou is stationed on the flagship Matsushima under admiral Ito Sukeyuki. Matsushima gets badly damaged. 57 men die (including three officers) and 54 more are wounded.

Heiji silently watches his son burning from his ship. Comes back a wreck of a man. Gets awarded a title of Baron under the kazoku system *.

No clue what Koujirou could have been doing then. It’s likely that he was part of the army that conquered Port Arthur (back than still called Lushunkou) the first time around in only 3 days **.

* I need to double-check that with the raws since I'm not sure Tsurumi calling him "lord" is meant to imply he had a noble title, or if it's just a honorific. Many of admirals had titles so it would be highly likely someone with a lineage and a service record like Heiji also got one.

** this experiance would make him a pefect choice for later leading the operation in 1904 so this would make a lot of sense, but it would also be a pretty heavy take, since that would mean he was present during the Port Arthur masacre. And as a senior officer too, so it’s hard to find any excuses for him if that was the case. Did witnessing the atrocities there influence his later opposition to the Japanese expansion into Manchuria? Was his instruction for Yuusaku not to kill anyone motivated by trying to protect his son from sharing his guilt?

1895

Tsurumi comes back from the war and joins the 7th (actually more like he’s demoted out of the 2nd). By then Koujirou is the head of the division *

* I’m guessing Tsurumi had to have enough time to work on him, to be able to learn all about the Koito family troubles and come up with the plan how to use them. Did he get into Koujirou’s confidence? Or was he just reading his private letters?

1900

Heiji stays in Kagoshima and spoils/neglects his second son. Tsurumi "accidentally" meets Otonoshin and they visit Saigo's and Heinojou's graves.

Later that year the whole Koito family moves to Hakodate and Heiji takes control of the Ominato torpedo division *.

* The Ikazuki was a new class of light destroyers specifically made not to repeat the tragedy of too large and too slow Matsushima. No wonder Heiji was willing to move across the country for that.There were 6 of them made in total. Cool factoid: One of those destroyers sunk after a crash with a civilian steamship off the coast of Hokkaido in 1909.

1902

Ogata (24) joins the army and specifically volunteers for the 7th division planning god-knows-what. By conscription he would have landed in the 2nd (Kantou region). 

Koujirou doesn't acknowledge him. Tsurumi does.

The Great Hakodate kidnapping takes place. Koujiro sends his best intelligence officer from Tsukisappu to help his friend and keep things discreet. Afterwards Heiji learns to appreciate the son he has left.

Later that year Otonoshin passes the exam to join the Army acedemy.

Fresh out of the academy Yuusaku (21) joins the 7th division. His father, plagued with guilt and bad life choices instructs him not to kill people and not to sleep around.

Yuusaku meets Hyakunosuke. Hyakunosuke tries to get him to kill people and sleep around.

1904-05

The Russo-Japanese war.

In February the war starts with Japan launching night torpedo attacks on the Russian fleet stationed inside Port Arthur. Heiji leads the third destroyer squadron aboard the Sazanami*. They continue the attacks over the next months trying to impose a blockade. After the Battle of the Yellow Sea, the victorious Japanese Combined Fleet effectively traps the remaining Russian warships inside Port Arthur. The Russians can't get out, the Japanese can't get in. Heiji can only wait and watch as the Japanese Army struggles to capture Port Arthur by land.

Koujirou leaves the 7th division behind when he is promoted to a member of staff of General Nogi’s 3rd Army. They land in Incheon in April and reach Port Arthur in August to start the siege. It is a drawn out blood bath. After wasting tons of lives in pointless assaults, the Japanese realize quite late that the key to victory lies in capturing the 203 Hill overlooking the harbor. Koujirou is made chief of staff for this operation.

In October they get the news that the Russian Baltic Fleet has left Tallinn and is on its way to reinforce the besieged Pacific Fleet. The race starts. If Koujirou fails to capture the hill before the Baltic Fleet arrives, the Japanese Fleet will be annihilated, and Heiji along with it.

In November the 7th division arrives in Port Arthur. They don’t get special treatment from their former commander and they’re sent head first to the 203 Hill. They capture it on 5th December, only after the artillery stopped caring weather they hit their own or not**. From their new position they destroy the whole Pacific fleet.

The death toll is 80 000 soldiers. More than half of the 7th is gone. Among the fallen are second lieutenants Hanazawa Yuusaku and Nogi Yasusuke - general Nogi's only remaining son (the first one died earlier in the same war).***

Hyakunosuke thinks that the losses wouldn't have to be this high if they just had more snipers like him. But nobody listened.

*  All of the Ikazuki-class destroyers were quite active during the war. I placed Heiji on the Sazanami just because there’s the most info about what she did and when.

** The winning strategy was implemented by Kodama Gentarou. He was sent to Port Arthur with the authority to replace Nogi. He had enough guts to sacrifice soldiers falling to friendly fire in one coordinated assault instead of bleeding them out by continuous suicidal frontal assaults. He didn't officially replace Nogi though, and he let him take the credit for the victory, because they were friends. It's a really cool story.

*** Interesingly enough Yasusuke, was also shot in the back of his head. His father when he saw his body asked only “Was it after he had completed his task, or was it before?”

1905

The 7th move on to Mukden. Koujirou and Nogi along with them. 

In May the Baltic Fleet arrives. Without Port Arthur, they try to get to Vladivostok to resupply. Tougou's fleet intercepts them in the Tsushima strait and despite their smaller number, crushes them decisively. Heiji's destroyer Sazanami, captures the destroyer Buyini with the wounded admiral Zinovy Rozhestvensky **. 

In September the Treaty of Portsmouth is signed. The Trans-Manchurian Railway gets handed off to the Japanese. Later Koujirou strongly opposes the plan to develop it ***.

** Heiji's torpedo division was also responsible to delivering the finishing blow to the flagship Knyaz Suarov. Later this was written on Knyaz Suarov's last moments "While she had a gun above water she fired, and not a man survived her of all that crew, to whose stubborn gallantry no words can do justice. If there is immortality in naval memory it is hers and theirs". Gives me the chills.

*** Did he see that it would lead to more war? Mantetsu was the reason behind the Manchurian Incident in 1931 and later for the breakout of the second Sino-Japanese war, where a really ugly face of Japanese imperialism saw the light of day. So, was Koujirou a good guy all along? This I hope will be explained in the manga.

1906

In January Nogi returns to give a victory report to the Emperor *.

Koujirou "commits seppuku" by his son's hand. "Writes" a sappy goodbye letter to Heiji (probably also by Ogata's hand).

Heiji gets seduced by his son's dashing young commander and does some stupid-treasonous things for him, convinced that Central Command was to blame for pushing Koujirou to suicide.

In November Mantetsu is established.

* Nogi breaks down while making the report and asks to be allowed to commit seppuku for allowing such high casualties. The Emperor forbids him. Nogi waits 7 years until the Emperor dies and commits seppuku on the day of his funeral.

Disclaimers

I would say half of this consists of what already is in GK canon (even if it’s written between the lines) or history. The other half are my free guesses for what I personally think would make a better story ;)

I tried and tried to do thorough research, but in the end I’m just a humble fangirl, and not a historian, so if there’s something I got wrong, missed or misinterpreted please correct me - learning history is a never-ending story.

Sorry for linking directly to the scanlations. Support the manga by buying the volumes if you can.

This list will most likely be growing since I will eventually figure out what Koujirou did during the Sino-Japanese war, and I’m only starting digging in to the details of the Boshin War, so I’m sure I’ll expand upon that.

If anyone ever wants to use this information for a fic, please do. Copy it all if you want to. I don’t mind the slightest. I’ll love you to pieces for writing anything for them at all!