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claudia1829things · 6 months

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"EMILY" (2022) Review

"EMILY" (2022) Review

I have been aware of only four productions that served as biopics for the Brontë family. I have seen only three of these productions, one of them being a recent movie released in theaters last year. This latest movie, the first to be written and directed by actress Frances O'Connor, is a biopic about Emily Brontë titled "EMILY".

This 2022 movie began with a question. While Emily Brontë laid dying from tuberculosis, her older sister Charlotte asks what had inspired her to write the 1847 novel, "Wuthering Heights". The story flashed back to 1839, when Charlotte returned home to the Haworth parish in West Yorkshire to visit before her graduation from school. Emily attempts to re-connect with the older sister about her fictional works, but Charlotte merely dismisses her creations as juvenile activities. Around the same time, their father Patrick, the parish's perpetual curate receives a new curate name William Weightman. While Charlotte, younger sister Anne and several young women seem enamored of the handsome newcomer, only Emily is dismissive of him. Emily accompanies Charlotte to the latter's school to learn to become a teacher and their brother Bramwell goes to study at the Royal Academy of Arts. Both Emily and Branwell return shortly to Haworth after as failures. When Branwell manages to find a job as a tutor, the Reverend Brontë charges William to provide French lessons to Emily. What began as lessons in French and religious philosophy lessons, eventually evolves into a romantic entanglement between the pair.

"EMILY" managed to garner a good deal of critical acclaim upon its release in theaters, including four nominations from the British Independent Film Awards. It also won three awards at the Dinard British Film Festival: Golden Hitchcock, Best Performance Award for leading actress Emma Mackey and the Audience Award. I have no idea how much "EMILY" had earned at the U.K. box office. But in North America (the U.S. and Canada), it earned nearly four million dollars. Regardless of this . . . did I believe "EMILY" was a good movie? Did it deserved the accolades it had received not only from film critics, but also many moviegoers?

I cannot deny that the production values for "EMILY" struck me as first-rate. I believe Steve Summersgill did a first-rate job as the film's production designer. I thought he had ably re-created Britain's West Yorkshire region during the early 1840s with contributions from Jono Moles' art direction, Cathy Featerstone's set decorations and the film's art direction. Nanu Segal's photography of the Yorkshire locations created a great deal of atmosphere with moody colors that managed to remain sharp. I found myself very impressed with Michael O'Connor's costume designs. I thought he did an excellent job in not only re-creating fashions from the end of the 1830s to the late 1840s, he also ensured that the costumes worn by the cast perfectly adhered to their professions and their class, as shown below:

However, according to a relative of mine, Emily Brontë's fashion sense had remained stuck in the mid-to-late 1830s, something that the 2016 movie, "TO WALK INVISIBLE" had reflected. On the other hand, "EMILY" had the famous author wearing up-to-date fashion for someone of her class:

And I must admit that I found those moments featuring actress Emma Mackay wearing her hair down . . . in an era in which Western women did no such thing . . . very annoying. Otherwise, I certainly had no problems with the movie's production values. The movie also included a fascinating scene in which Emily had donned a mask and pretended to be the ghost of the Brontës' late mother during a social gathering. The scene reeked with atmosphere, emotion and good acting from the cast. I also found the scene well shot by O'Connor, who was only a first-time director.

"EMILY" also featured a first-rate cast. The movie featured solid performances from the likes of Amelia Gething as Anne Brontë, Adrian Dunbar as Patrick Brontë, Gemma Jones as the siblings' Aunt Branwell, Sacha Parkinson, Philip Desmeules, Veronica Roberts and other supporting cast member. I cannot recall a bad performance from any of them. The movie also featured some truly excellent performances. One came from Fionn Whitehead, who gave an emotional performance as the Brontë family's black sheep, who seemed overwhelmed by family pressure to succeed in a profession or the arts. Alexandra Dowling gave a subtle, yet charged performance as Charlotte Brontë, the family's oldest sibling (at the moment). Dowling did an excellent job of conveying Charlotte's perceived sense of superiority and emotional suppression. I wonder if the role of William Weightman, Reverend Brontë's curate, had been a difficult one for actor Oliver Jackson-Cohen. I could not help but notice that the role struck me as very complicated - moral, charming, intelligent, passionate and at times, hypocritical. Not only that, I believe Jackson-Cohen did an excellent job of conveying the different facets of Weightman's character. The actor also managed to create a dynamic screen chemistry with the movie's leading lady, Emma Mackey. I discovered that the actress had received a Best Actress nomination from the British Independent Film Awards and won the BAFTA Rising Star Award. If I must be honest, I believe she earned those accolades. She gave a brilliant performance as the enigmatic and emotional Emily, who struggled to maintain her sense of individuality and express her artistry, despite the lack of support from most of her family.

"EMILY" had a great deal to admire - an excellent cast led by the talented Emma Mackey, first-rate production designs, and costumes that beautifully reflected the film's setting. So . . . do I believe it still deserved the acclaim that it had received? Hmmm . . . NO. No, not really. There were two aspects of "EMILY" that led me to regard it in a lesser light. I thought it it was a piss poor biopic of Emily Brontë. I also found the nature of the whole romance between the author and William Weightman not only unoriginal, but also unnecessary. Let me explain.

As far as anyone knows, there had been no romance - sexual or otherwise - between Emily Brontë and William Weightman. There has never been any evidence that the two were ever attracted to each other, or one attracted to the other. Many have discovered that the youngest Brontë sister, Anne, had been attracted to Weightman. In fact, she had based her leading male character from her 1947 novel, "Agnes Grey", on the curate. There have been reports that Charlotte had found him attractive. But there has been no sign of any kind of connection between him and Emily. Why did Frances O'Connor conjure up this obviously fictional romance between the movie's main character and Weightman. What was the point? Did the actress-turned-writer/director found it difficult to believe that a virginal woman in her late 20s had created "Wuthering Heighs"? Did O'Connor find it difficult to accept that Emily's creation of the 1847 novel had nothing to do with a doomed romance the author may have experienced?

Despite Mackey's excellent performance, I found the portrayal of Emily Brontë exaggerated at times and almost bizarre. In this case, I have to blame O'Connor, who had not only directed this film, but wrote the screenplay. For some reason, O'Connor believed the only way to depict Brontë's free spirited nature was to have the character engage in behavior such as alcohol and opium consumption, frolicking on the moors, have the words "Freedom in thought" tattooed on one of her arms - like brother Branwell, and scaring a local family by staring into their window at night - again, with brother Branwell. This is freedom? These were signs of being a "free spirit"? Frankly, I found such activities either immature or destructive. Worse, they seemed to smack of old tropes used in old romance novels or costume melodramas. In fact, watching Emily partake both alcohol and opium reminded me of a scene in which Kate Winslet's character had lit up a cigarette in 1997's "TITANIC", in order to convey some kind of feminist sensibility. Good grief.

What made O'Connor's movie even worse was her portrayal of the rest of the Brontë family. As far as anyone knows, Reverend Brontë had never a cold parent to his children, including Emily. Emily had not only been close to Branwell, but also to Anne. And Branwell was also close to Charlotte. All three sisters had openly and closely supported each other's artistic work. Why did O'Connor villainize Charlotte, by transforming her into this cold, prissy woman barely capable of any kind of artistic expression? Why have Charlotte be inspired to write her most successful novel, "Jane Eyre", following the "success" of "Wuthering Heights", when her novel had been published two months before Emily's? Why did she reduce Anne into the family's nobody? Was it really necessary for O'Connor to drag Charlotte's character through the mud and ignore Anne, because Emily was her main protagonist? What was the damn point of this movie? Granted, there have been plenty of biopics and historical dramas that occasionally play fast and loose with the facts. But O'Connor had more or less re-wrote Emily Brontë's life into a "re-imagining" in order to . . . what? Suggest a more romantic inspiration for the creation of "Wuthering Heights"?

I have another issue with "EMILY". Namely, the so-called "romance" between Brontë and Weightman. Or the illicit nature of their romance. Why did O'Connor portray this "romance" as forbidden? A secret? I mean . . . why bother? What was it about the pair that made an open romance impossible for them? Both Brontë and Weightman came from the same class - more or less. Weightman had been in the same profession as her father. And both had been college educated. Neither Emily or Weightman had been romantically involved in or engaged to someone else. In other words, both had been free to pursue an open relationship. Both were equally intelligent. If the Weightman character had truly been in love with Emily, why not have him request permission from Reverend Brontë to court her or propose marriage to Emily? Surely as part of the cleric, he would have considered such a thing, instead of fall into a secretive and sexual relationship with her. It just seemed so unnecessary for the pair to engage in a "forbidden" or secret romance. Come to think of it, whether the film had been an Emily Brontë biopic or simply a Victorian melodrama with fictional characters, the forbidden aspect of the two leads' romance struck me as simply unnecessary.

What else can I say about "EMILY"? A rich atmosphere filled the movie. The latter featured atmospheric and beautiful images of West Yorkshire, thanks to cinematographer Nanu Segal. It possessed a first-class production design, excellent costumes that reflected the movie's 1840s setting and superb performances from a cast led by the talented Emma Mackey. I could have fully admired this film if it were not for two aspects. One, I thought it was a shoddy take on a biopic for author Emily Brontë that featured one falsehood too many. And two, I found the secretive and "forbidden" nature of Brontë's false romance with the William Weightman character very unnecessary. Pity.

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manucj · 6 months

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Challenges and Opportunities for Tourism Businesses in Dubai's Regulatory Landscape

Dubai has solidified its position as a major international tourism destination with its tall buildings, immaculate beaches, and opulent resorts. Businesses are pouring money into this Emirati metropolis, and the tourist and hospitality regulatory environment is still evolving. To individuals who are thinking about company setup in Dubai's thriving tourism industry, it is important to know these prospects and challenges.

Regulatory Evolution

To guarantee that Dubai keeps its standing as one of the world's most popular tourist destinations, the Emirati government is always improving its regulatory structure. Although this may present some early difficulties for newcomers, it also shows a dedication to quality and visitor happiness. It's critical for businesses to keep up with and comply with these changing requirements.

Licensing and Permissions

For tourism-related enterprises, understanding the complex process of getting licenses and permissions is a major barrier. It might be challenging to comprehend the particular needs and make sure that approvals are obtained in a timely manner when opening a hotel, travel agency, or entertainment venue. A successful company setup in Dubai can be achieved, nevertheless, if these procedures are streamlined with the correct advice and knowledge.

Competitive Landscape

Businesses in Dubai's tourism industry compete fiercely to attract the interest of both domestic and foreign tourists. To stand out in this crowded industry, one needs to be innovative, provide flawless service, and have a thorough awareness of the preferences of the target audience. Notwithstanding the difficulties, there are a lot of prospects for growth and expansion due to the sheer number of visitors and their variety of needs.

Infrastructure and Development

Even while Dubai's rapid infrastructure development is evidence of its progress, businesses may face logistical difficulties as a result. It takes flexibility and intelligence to ensure smooth operations, particularly during large building phases or infrastructure upgrades. But this ongoing progress also creates opportunities for joint ventures, collaborations, and new commercial endeavors.

Cultural Sensitivities

Dubai maintains its cultural roots while being a multicultural metropolis. Businesses in the tourism industry need to respect regional values, customs, and traditions. It might be challenging to strike a balance between contemporary conveniences and cultural sensitivity, but when done well, it promotes mutual respect and trust and improves the guest experience in general.

Digital Transformation

The tourist sector is fast changing due to the digital landscape. For businesses in Dubai to stay competitive, they need to embrace digital transformation, from virtual tours to online bookings. In the current digital world, investing in technology, utilizing data analytics, and improving online presence are essential for success.

Sustainable Tourism

Responsible tourism practices are becoming more and more in demand as sustainability becomes more widely recognized. Dubai's tourism industry must strike a balance between social and environmental responsibility and economic growth. Adopting sustainable practices puts companies in a positive light with eco-aware tourists in addition to being in line with worldwide trends.

Diversification of Offerings

Businesses need to keep coming up with new ideas and expanding their product offers in order to appeal to a wide group of tourists. Diversification is a strategy that can be used to generate growth, attract new market groups, and manage risks associated with seasonal swings. Examples of this include offering eco-friendly initiatives, cultural tours, and specialty experiences.

Networking and Collaboration

The tourist landscape in Dubai necessitates strong networking and teamwork. Forming strategic alliances with other companies, governments, and industry players can open up new markets and provide access to resources and insights. In addition to addressing shared issues, collaborative activities can promote innovation and raise industry standards in general.

To sum up The regulatory environment in Dubai, with its unique mix of opportunities and challenges, calls for resilience, adaptability, and creativity from the travel industry. The process of company setup in Dubai may be complex, but the benefits are unmatched in terms of expansion, success, and recognition around the world. Businesses may prosper and add to Dubai's always changing tourist story with a strategic strategy, an unshakable dedication to excellence, and a thorough awareness of the market dynamics.

#company setup in dubai #company formation in dubai #business #company formation consultant in dubai

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ruksarsblog · 7 months

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How to participate in Oreoverse Sweepstakes?

Participating in the Oreoverse Sweepstakes is an exciting opportunity to win fantastic prizes while engaging with a vibrant community. Whether you're a seasoned sweepstake enthusiast or a newcomer, this article will guide you through the process, ensuring a seamless and enjoyable experience.

Understanding the Rules and Regulations

Before diving into the sweepstakes frenzy, it's crucial to familiarize yourself with the official rules and regulations. These guidelines outline the eligibility criteria and set the foundation for a fair and transparent competition. Make sure you give them a thorough read to ensure your participation meets all requirements.

Locating Oreoverse Sweepstakes Entry Points

Oreoverse Sweepstakes might be hosted on various online platforms or physical locations. Discovering these entry points is the first step to your potential victory. Stay tuned to official announcements and promotions to find out where you can enter and try your luck.

Creating a Participant Account

To participate, you'll need to set up a participant account. It's a straightforward process, but we'll guide you step by step. Prepare the necessary information, and let's get you registered for a chance to win exciting prizes.

Navigating the Entry Process

Once your account is set up, finding and accessing the entry form is the next step. Don't worry; it's easier than it sounds. We'll walk you through the process, ensuring you provide all the required details for a valid entry.

Maximizing Your Entries

Want to boost your chances of winning? Explore additional entry options provided by Oreoverse Sweepstakes. From sharing on social media to completing specific tasks, we'll share tips on maximizing your entries and increasing your odds of claiming that coveted prize.

Stay Informed: Notifications and Updates

Stay in the loop by opting in for notifications. We'll guide you on how to receive updates and announcements, ensuring you're always aware of important developments and opportunities within the Oreoverse Sweepstakes community.

Avoiding Common Pitfalls

To ensure a smooth journey, understanding disqualification criteria is crucial. We'll share insights into common pitfalls to avoid, helping you navigate the sweepstakes terrain with confidence and compliance.

Engaging with the Oreoverse Community

Participating in the Oreoverse community goes beyond the chance to win prizes. Discover the benefits of joining this dynamic community, including networking opportunities and shared excitement for the sweepstakes.

The Excitement of the Draw: What Happens Next

Curious about the drawing process? We'll provide an overview of when and how winners are announced, building anticipation for that thrilling moment when your name could be called.

Claiming Your Prize

You've won—congratulations! Now, we'll guide you through the process of claiming your prize. Pay attention to instructions and important deadlines to ensure a seamless prize redemption.

Sharing Your Success: Social Media and Testimonials

Celebrate your victory by sharing it with the world. We'll discuss the benefits of sharing your success on social media and providing feedback and testimonials, contributing to the positive energy within the Oreoverse community.

Oreoverse Sweepstakes Etiquette

Being a responsible participant is key to a harmonious sweepstakes experience. We'll share etiquette guidelines to ensure respectful participation and being a positive influence on the community.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

Can I enter the Oreoverse Sweepstakes more than once?

Yes, there are multiple entry options available. Refer to the guidelines for details.

How are winners selected?

Winners are selected through a random drawing process, ensuring fairness.

What happens if I miss the prize claim deadline?

Unfortunately, prizes must be claimed within the specified timeframe. Missed deadlines result in forfeiture.

Is sharing my win on social media mandatory?

No, it's not mandatory, but it's encouraged. Sharing adds to the excitement and positive atmosphere within the community.

Can I participate if I'm located outside the specified region?

Check the official rules for eligibility criteria. Some sweepstakes may have geographical restrictions.

Conclusion

Participating in the Oreoverse Sweepstakes is not just about winning prizes; it's about joining a thriving community, navigating an exciting journey, and celebrating shared success. Follow the guidelines, stay engaged, and who knows? Your name could be the next one called in the thrilling draw.

Get ready to embark on your Oreoverse Sweepstakes adventure!

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captainmdhridoyhossain-blog · 11 months

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[ad_1] Investing in Digital Currencies: Opportunities and Risks in the Crypto Market Introduction: With the rise of technology and the increasing digitization of our lives, investing in digital currencies has gained significant popularity. The crypto market, with its potential for high returns and innovative technology, has attracted both seasoned investors and newcomers alike. However, before diving into this exciting world, it is essential to understand the opportunities and risks that come with investing in digital currencies. I. Understanding Digital Currencies: 1.1 What are digital currencies? Digital currencies, often referred to as cryptocurrencies, are digital or virtual currencies that use cryptography for secure financial transactions. These decentralized digital assets operate independently of any central bank and are based on blockchain technology. 1.2 How does blockchain technology work? Blockchain technology is a distributed ledger system where transactions are recorded in blocks and linked together in a chain. Each block contains a cryptographic hash of the previous block, ensuring transparency, security, and immutability. II. Opportunities in the Crypto Market: 2.1 Potential for High Returns: Investing in digital currencies offers the potential for significant returns. The crypto market has experienced explosive growth, with several cryptocurrencies witnessing meteoric rises in value. Investors who identified these opportunities early on have reaped substantial profits. 2.2 Portfolio Diversification: Digital currencies provide an excellent opportunity to diversify investment portfolios. Traditional assets like stocks and bonds often move in correlation with each other, making it challenging to mitigate risks. Investing in cryptocurrencies allows for exposure to a different asset class, potentially reducing the overall risk of the portfolio. 2.3 Innovation and Technological Advancements: The crypto market is a hub for innovation and technological advancements. Blockchain technology, upon which digital currencies are built, has the potential to revolutionize various industries such as finance, supply chain management, and healthcare. Investing in cryptocurrencies provides an avenue to support and participate in these emerging technologies. III. Risks in the Crypto Market: 3.1 Volatility: The crypto market is known for its extreme price fluctuations. Cryptocurrencies often experience significant price swings within short periods. Such volatility can lead to substantial gains but can also result in considerable losses. Investors should be prepared for the inherent unpredictability of the market. 3.2 Regulatory Uncertainty: Governments and regulatory bodies worldwide are still grappling with the regulation of digital currencies. The lack of clarity and inconsistent regulations pose potential risks for investors. Changes in regulatory frameworks or outright bans can impact the value and legality of cryptocurrencies. 3.3 Security Concerns: Digital currencies face security challenges due to the decentralized nature of the blockchain. Investors must be aware of the risks associated with cyber attacks, hacking incidents, and the potential loss of funds. Adopting stringent security measures, such as using hardware wallets and strong authentication methods, can help mitigate these risks. IV. FAQs (Frequently Asked Questions): Q1: How can I start investing in digital currencies? A1: To start investing in digital currencies, you need to follow these steps: 1. Choose a reliable cryptocurrency exchange platform. 2. Create an account and complete the verification process. 3. Fund your account using fiat currency or other cryptocurrencies. 4. Research and select the digital currencies you want to invest in. 5. Place your buy orders and monitor your investment regularly. Q2: What are the factors to consider before investing in digital currencies? A2: Before investing in digital currencies, consider the following factors:

1. Conduct thorough research on the cryptocurrency and its underlying technology. 2. Assess the project's credibility, development team, and partnerships. 3. Evaluate the market demand, competition, and potential use cases. 4. Understand the token economics and supply dynamics. 5. Stay updated on the latest news and regulatory developments. Q3: Should I invest in Bitcoin or other altcoins? A3: The suitability of Bitcoin or altcoins for investment depends on your investment goals, risk tolerance, and understanding of the respective projects. Bitcoin is the most established and widely recognized cryptocurrency, but altcoins can offer unique features and growth potential. It's important to diversify your investment across multiple digital currencies for balanced exposure. Conclusion: Investing in digital currencies can be a lucrative endeavor, presenting opportunities for high returns, portfolio diversification, and participation in technological advancements. However, it is crucial to be aware of the risks associated with volatility, regulatory uncertainty, and security concerns. By understanding the intricacies of the crypto market and conducting diligent research, investors can navigate this exciting landscape and make informed investment decisions. Remember, when investing in digital currencies, always prioritize education, risk management, and constant monitoring to maximize your chances of success in this dynamic and ever-evolving market. Keywords: Investing in digital currencies, opportunities, risks, crypto market, blockchain technology, high returns, portfolio diversification, volatility, regulatory uncertainty, security concerns, FAQ. [ad_2] #Investing #Digital #Currencies #Opportunities #Risks #Crypto #Market

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albertwatson8 · 1 year

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How to Join Slot Games in Thai

If you're a Thai player who enjoys playing slot games, then joining an online casino might be your ideal solution. Fortunately, there are numerous websites that accept players from Thailand. Looking More visit เล่นสล็อตฟรีได้เงินจริงไม่ต้องฝาก.

Before signing up, ensure the internet site provides a safe and secure environment to play in. They ought to also offer an impressive selection of slots and other games.

No deposit bonus

If you're looking to try your luck or just like a quick game of poker, a number deposit bonus will help obtain the ball rolling. These may can be found in the shape of cash or free spins so make sure to read through the terms and conditions before claiming them.

Many Thai casinos provide welcome bonuses for new players, in addition to reload bonuses and other promotions. These is an excellent way to improve your bankroll and keep you playing for longer.

Most bonuses are available to players who register an account with the service, verify their email or mobile number, and meet with the terms and conditions of the casino. They might can be found in the shape of cash or free spins depending where online casino you select.

When selecting an online casino in Thailand, it's essential to locate one that accepts a number of payment methods. Popular options include debit and charge cards, bank transfers and e-wallets. Furthermore, ensure that your chosen Thai casino accepts cryptocurrency payments such as for instance Bitcoin or Litecoin.

Free spins

Free spins are an appealing incentive for several online gamblers, but they could also present risks or even used responsibly. The reason being some slots may only offer them occasionally and may only allow you a specific number of spins at a time.

Thankfully, Thai online casinos often share free spins being an incentive to attract new players. But it's important to be aware of the terms and conditions for every single one before signing up.

In this instance, we suggest selecting a casino with an array of games and generous free spins offers. Doing this allows you to try different slots before wagering with actual cash.

Focus on RTG's Thai Emerald slot. It's 3x5 grid with 25 paylines and stacked symbols can activate Mystery Stacks for a few delicious prizes.

Bonus rounds

Bonus rounds are a fantastic way to improve your winnings. They usually offer big money prizes and free spins, and are commonly included in video slots.

Thai residents are avid gamers, so you're likely to locate slots at almost every casino in town. Plus, many have online casinos accessible from anywhere on earth in order that players can win real cash no matter their location.

Slots are a popular among Thai gamers for their ease of learning and enjoyable nature. Plus, many slots include mobile versions in order to keep spinning while on-the-go!

Playing slot games in Thailand offers you a vast selection of top-notch titles, including all the newest releases. In reality, online casinos typically to produce new game on a monthly basis - so you'll never get bored together with your gambling routine!

RTP

RTP (Return to Player) is an important part of online gambling which empowers players to create informed decisions when selecting games and raise their odds of success. This is often especially advantageous for newcomers to the overall game who wish to enhance their confidence level when playing slots.

Thai Emerald, a very volatile slot with 25 paylines and an impressive top prize of 2,000x your bet amount, is available. Additionally, this title comes filled with wild cards and Free Spins rounds for added enjoyment.

Players must find three or even more matching symbols along a payline to win. Boat and elephant symbols shell out 250 times your bet per line, while Thai girl pays 500 times.

Thai Flower Megaways slot is a wonderful option for individuals who appreciate medium-variance games with high RTPs of 95% and free spins bonus rounds. Plus, with 10 fixed paylines, it's ideal for individuals who like to wager small amounts and keep things straightforward.

#AlbertWatson8

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aptechvisaglobalimmigration · 2 years

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Immigration Minister Sean Fraser talks about the changes to Express Entry.

A measure allowing the immigration minister to invite Express Entry candidates based on an economic objective is close to being passed by the Canadian government.

The Senate is at this moment debating Bill C-19. If approved, it would grant the Minister of Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada (IRCC) the power to select candidates for Express Entry based on their profession, language proficiency, intended country of residence, or any other factor that benefits Canada's economic objectives.

In a face-to-face interview with CIC News, Immigration Minister Sean Fraser expressed his hope that the bill would be approved by the Senate and that the additional powers would soon be put into effect. Even though Express Entry gives Canada a competitive edge, the minister acknowledged there is still potential for improvement.

Get a Free Canada Assessment Form

The current state of [the Express Entry system] prevents us from tailoring invites to apply to the Express Entry system to suit those in-demand skills or qualifications, Fraser said. "If there are special issues that your economy is having, it may be facing in the long run," Fraser said.

"The Express Entry framework as it exists today is probably going to get individuals that probably won't be impeccably matched to the necessities of the Canadian economy in the event that you're in a circumstance where you have an overflow of applications that are across the board-specific sectors and that sector doesn't have high requirements in Canada."

With the expanded powers, IRCC would be able to use selection criteria based on industry, geography, and linguistic proficiency to meet Canada's labor needs. According to the minister, by doing this, Canada will be able to choose more immigrants who are already well-suited for employment.

The objective, according to Fraser, is to maximize a newcomer's ability to contribute to their communities in order to prepare them for success upon arrival and ensure that they will satisfy the demands of the area in which they will live. I predict that retention rates could rise as a result of people entering positions where they are aware of prospects because that was the premise for their invitation to apply.

The additional powers, according to the bill's detractors, may let special interest organizations advocate for a particular kind of candidate. In earlier versions of the law, changes were made to reflect the necessity of an open selection procedure. Fraser was aware of this issue.

"I would be heading down a very dangerous path if I sat in my office in Ottawa and started deciding what regions and what sectors should benefit from this new strategy," Fraser said. I must interact with members of the neighbourhood community. I must communicate with my territorial and provincial counterparts. In order to understand their demands, I need to interact with business councils and sectors that have a lot of wants.

Bill C-19's Express Entry amendments won't take effect unless the governor-general of Canada grants it royal assent.

You can also read the latest Canada Immigration News and Draw Updates here. if you are interested in studying abroad then for more info, please click studying in Canada

For more info, please call: +91-7503832132, +91-9131059075, +91 8447281370, write to us at: [email protected] and Fill out the Free Canada Immigration Assessment Form

Source URL: https://www.blog.aptechvisa.com/blogs/immigration-minister-sean-fraser-talks-about-the-changes-to-express-entry

#Canada Express Entry #Express Entry Canada #Express Entry Draw #CRS Calculator #Canada PR #Canada Immigration #Canada PNP

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vkelleyart · 4 years

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Thoughts on fandom: inclusion and engagement.

(Art credit to the kindhearted @penpanoply!)

There’s been some stuff floating around on Tumblr about strife in the CO/WS fandom, and though I haven’t been explicitly named-dropped on anything public, my DMs have been... active. lol Rather than rehash what’s been said already, I just want to impart a little wisdom and perspective in the hopes it may soothe frayed feelings and offer a way ahead for cultivating a respectful community. As someone who has been an active participant in online fandoms since the mid-’90s, which was the advent of online fandom content creation (shout out to my fellow X-Philes!), and who has also spent a chunk of her professional life managing social media for the federal government and for activist groups, I can promise you it’s all gonna be okay.

Here’s some context for why strife happens and what we can do to create a more inclusive and communicative fandom environment.

1) It sounds cliché, but fandoms go through growing pains.

In the case of the Simon Snow fandom, what was once a small and cozy space untouched by cataclysmic events (such as the release of *gasp* a sequel) has grown exponentially in a relatively short amount of time following the release of Wayward Son. Newcomers are eager to find a home in this space at the same time as folks who’ve been here a while may be consciously or unconsciously wary about widening their circle, and It’s important to remember that this is not necessarily an expression of bad behavior on either side but just human psychology doing its thing.

The byproduct, however, is that tension and stress builds over time from the lack of meaningful communication across the divide, which subsequently fuels misunderstandings. Ironically, the interfaces we use to communicate don’t help with this because any existing communication about the tension happens in tiny vacuums until a trigger goes off and bad feelings go public.

Way Ahead: These moments of destabilization are opportunities to see where we can be more self aware about how we engage with fandom and the kind of community we want to be. Can you promote, support, or befriend someone trying to gain a foothold? If yes, please do! Each person must reach their own decision about what they can do within the confines of their available energy, health, and time, but a little self awareness goes a long way as long as you’re honest with yourself and others if applicable about what you can contribute. Anyone who judges you for it isn’t worth the strife.

2) In a fandom comprised of vulnerable/marginalized people, it’s more accurate to say that cliques are “bubbles of trust.”

This one's important. Just by nature of the source material, the CO/WS fandom includes fans with a wide array of backgrounds and experiences, especially when it comes to those who identify with the characters’ queerness, mental illness, and/or trauma. I really believe––based on individual conversations/group chats––that the difficult lived experiences that so many of our fandom peers have endured has produced one of the most open, aware, and accepting fandoms I’ve had the pleasure of participating in. Our vulnerability is, in a real way, our strength.

That said, a community of survivors also has the side effect of cultivating small circles of engagement that I call “bubbles of trust.” When you’re a survivor of abuse, marginalization, mental illness, fill-in-the-blank, it’s often quite hard to risk casting a wide net and expanding your circle to include new faces––which can subsequently be internalized by equally sensitive and vulnerable newcomers as rejection, judgement, or inadequacy.

Way Ahead: First of all, there may indeed be gatekeeping and exclusion going on. But before internalizing someone’s cagey behavior as gatekeeping or purposely exclusionary, ask yourself if you have all the information. Many people are private (I include myself in this assessment) because life has regrettably taught them to be this way, and so they may insulate themselves to a small group of people who have earned their trust. Some people might also triggered by certain content (case in point: smut triggers my anxiety) so they don’t engage with it. Others might have something in their pasts that define how they handle certain subjects (for example, a person of color should not be tone policed for getting angry when confronted with a racialized microagression, however accidental it was). You just don’t know what you don’t know.

The solution here is to regularly check your privilege and ask questions in a private space if you sense you’re being treated unfairly by someone. If you go public with your grievances in hopes of mobilizing the mob, you may accidentally find yourself stepping into the role of the aggressor instead of the victim.

3) Social Media is not built to help you get engagement. It’s built to help itself make money off of you.

Repeat after me: Hits/likes are not a measurable indicator of talent or worth. There are ridiculously talented folks on Tumblr and elsewhere who, for whatever reason, haven’t had their viral moment, and it’s not their fault. Loads of factors come into play where things like likes, reblogs, and comments are concerned, among them being posting frequency, subject matter, the time of day, the day of the week, the week of the month, the month of the year, the current administration, the stock exchange, the concentration of middle class users, who just won the Superbowl, a madman trying to steal an election and undermine the democratic process, a PANDEMIC, do you get where I’m going with this?? lol

At the end of the day, my humble successes have been helped along by good luck, good timing, high profile signal boosters, and an absurd amount of work. (This is why I try to signal boost new work whenever I get a chance over at @vkelleyshares.)

So while you cannot control Tumblr’s interface, trends at large, or your fellow users, here’s what you can do to ensure you give your work the best possible chance of exposure.

Have an image ready to go with your post. Tumblr is a visual platform (no matter what it says about being good for text). Not good with images? Set up a Canva.com account and get access to free graphic software with a gazillion templates to create whatever attractive image you want to attach to your post.

Keep the outward facing text brief and easy on the eyes. Too long and eyes will glaze over. Put excess text behind a “read more.”

You may think you’re being cute when you do this, but don’t put yourself down in your posts. (Don’t put yourself down in general, of course.) Doing so acts as engagement repellant. If you don’t believe in your work, no one else will.

Related: Be your best cheerleader. Confidence is a magnet, and if you don’t have it, go ahead and fake it until you start to convince yourself you are worth the buzz. So promote yourself! You have gifts that only you can impart. Use that knowledge to fuel everything you do from your art/fiction writing to your outreach with other content creators, and by golly, if someone’s done it already, acknowledge that contribution and then tell the world that this is YOUR unique take on it.

Treat your fellow fandom creators as human beings, not art/fiction/content boosting machines. I cannot count how many times I’ve had folks slide into my DMs with offers of friendship only to disappear once they realize I’m not available to draw a picture for their fic. It hurts because it’s manipulative and it makes me want to hole up and not signal boost anyone. Creators who truly support each other will not give off a transactional vibe. I want to help you reach more people, but not if that’s all I’m good for in your eyes.

The long and short of it: Lead with compassion, do your best with the opportunities at your disposal, and remember that fandom belongs to everyone in it. ❤️

What saves a fandom made of sensitive and vulnerable souls from imploding when it goes through growing pains is radical compassion from those who can offer it. Begin with the assumption that your fellow fandomers are not trying to harm you, and wade into the water knowing that your insight into the lives of your peers is limited by default and you may need to temper your words or actions accordingly. If you’re a content creator, save compassion for yourself as well, as there are indeed challenges to gaining an audience, and lack of engagement does not mean you lack talent or skill. Be your best advocate, and if you have the bandwidth to lift up a fellow creator and make a new friend, please, go ahead do it!

And finally, fandom belongs to everyone, and no one has a monopoly on characters, tropes, or themes. Create and consume what you love (with respect for your more vulnerable peers), and bask in the variety, my friends!

That’s all I’ve got in my head at the moment, although I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting. Thanks so much to @penpanoply for letting me use her art for this and to everyone else, hang in there and try not to judge each other too harshly. These are unprecedented times, and most of us are doing our best in circumstances that are pushing us to our limits.

As always, if you have questions or want to sound off on anything, shoot me a message or an ask, or ping me on Discord. It might take me a second to respond (thanks, Covid) but I’ll get to it! Love, love, and more love to all.

#fandom stuff

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amiedala · 3 years

Text

SOMETHING DEEPER

CHAPTER 4: An Open Wound

RATING: Explicit (18+ ONLY!!!)

WARNINGS: sexual content, canon-compliant violence, graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of past abuse/trauma

SUMMARY: “I don’t expect you to follow what I say. I’m not a dictator, and I have no interest in becoming one. But if a single one of you brings danger to this planet you claim to love to hurt me or my wife,” Din continues, and the way his lips shape around the word wife makes something warm and wet unhinge in Nova, “there will be no place in this galaxy where you can hide from me.”

If you're a newcomer, my fic "Something More" is the first installment of this story! <3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hello my loves and happy Something Deeper Saturday! this chapter is truly a whirlwind, it's hard and sweet and intense and simple all at once. there are very graphic descriptions of violence and death in the one (in the form of Force visions, no one's actually dying, I PROMISE!!!), so please be aware that there is potentially triggering material in what you're about to read. it mentions past abuse and dives pretty deep into current violence, so please just read with caution! i hope you enjoy this journey—i certainly did writing it! more notes at the end!!! <3

Mandalore isn’t a ghost town.

Not how Nova originally thought, anyway. The throne room is filled with wary, armored people. Some are the guards that usually stand watch outside, through the giant palace doors. Nova recognizes Koska Reeves and Axe Woves from the brief, charged encounters she’s had with each of them. Bo-Katan is there, of course, regal and pristine, her shoulders pushed back, her red hair impeccable. There are a handful of villagers that Nova’s seen in passing, but besides the few faces she recognizes, most of the people gathered in the throne room have been hidden somewhere on Mandalore, away from this strange Capitol, away from the everyday. Half of them are without armor, without impressive beskar helmets to hide their wary expressions. Bo-Katan’s icy, measured gaze is clearly a popular currency on Mandalore, because every single person in this room looks skeptical at best and enraged at worst. Nova keeps her eyes on Din, who’s decided to stand at the helm of the dais instead of taking a seat on the beskar throne, watching his every movement to ensure he’s safe up there, and that he stays unharmed.

“I want...to be your leader,” Din says, his voice quiet but earnest. He sounds like he’s incredulous at his own words, like he’s reading off a script he’s never seen before. But there’s power hidden underneath whatever’s scaring him, an undercurrent that Nova knows is unfettered, genuine passion. “I wasn’t raised in the way of Mandalore. Not in the ways that you were—”

“Clearly,” Koska whispers, and the Mnadalorians standing closest to her proximity offer uncharacteristic smiles and snorts. Nova steps forward, but Bo-Katan raises her sharp hand at her side, and they immediately fall silent.

Din looks back at Nova, and for the first time, she can see the fear in his eyes. She nods, encouragingly, even though she has absolutely no clue what point he’s trying to make. Every time she closes her eyes, even if it’s only for a heartbeat, she sees the strange, young hologram of her face, with the word MURDER, MURDER, MURDER flashing back at her, a ceaseless and terrible pattern. Nervously, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, realizing that she’s the only person in this room who isn’t outfitted in Mandalorian regalia. Her black shirt has remnants of dust on the sleeves from the amphitheater. Her pants saw their best days weeks ago. Her shawl, the only proof that she wears any sort of allegiance to the throne, Mandalorian blue and regal, is thrown haphazardly over her rounded shoulders. The boots on her feet are older than her relationship with Din, picked up planets and planets ago, somewhere sunny and warm and an entire lifetime away. When Din’s panicked brown eyes find hers again, Nova smiles, taking a half-step forward, trying to portray anything other than her own frenzied state, the hammering heartbeat that could likely be heard outside of the palace.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Din finally continues, turning back to the crowd. Even from this angle, with most of his face obscured, Nova knows how hard it is for him to stand here, in front of dozens of people, without his helmet, how many rules he thinks he’s breaking, how this must feel like agony. He reaches for the Darksaber hanging on his belt, and when it ignites, every single face in the room is on Din, on that horrific, captivating blade of electricity and death. “I won this in battle. Twice. Both were accidents,” He inhales heavily, studying the flickering, wicked blade. “But they still happened. I wasn’t born on Mandalore. I wasn’t raised here, either. I’ve given some of you this speech before, when I first took the throne.” He exhales through his nose, and Nova wets her dry lips. Her throat feels like the middle of the day on Tatooine, parched and treacherous. “I...I am not a Mandalorian in the way that you’re Mandalorians.” Nova chances another half-step forward, letting the captive, tensioned room blur in her vision as she just focuses on Din. There’s a tremor in his voice, something alive and unsteady, something she only notices because she’s spent over a year studying every inch of him, memorizing Din right down to his bloodstream. “I follow a Creed that you don’t. I’ve spent most of my life trying...trying to be a good soldier, a true Mandalorian. I know I’m not the leader you wanted. I’m not even sure if I’m the leader I wanted. But I’m the one we’ve got, at least for right now. And—” Din exhales sharply, his breath strained, and Nova knows he’s suppressing a sigh, “I swear, I will try my best to do right by this planet. But—but I’m not only the reigning Mand’alor. I’m—”

“Right,” Axe interjects, but there's no malice in his tone. Nova stiffens, crossing her arms over her chest, staring over at him. But he doesn’t look threatening. His smile seems genuine, like he;s just attempting to get Din to lighten up. “And a bounty hunter. A damn good one, at that. He’s caught me twice.”

“Three times,” Nova corrects, and her eyes go wide when she realizes that everyone’s attention is now on her. “But,” she continues, rather nervously, trying to square back her shoulders in a shoddy imitation of Bo-Katan to not display that nervousness, “Din hasn’t been just a bounty hunter in a long time.”

Din sheathes the Darksaber, and instead turns his outstretched hand to Nova. Heart pounding, she slides her hand into his large, gloved one, trying not to show the massive tremble in her fingers. Quietly, he reaches for the Skywaker lightsaber hanging from her belt, and when Nova hesitates, he lets her hand close over the grip instead. Bo-Katan moves forward, so quickly Nova doesn’t even notice, and when she ignites the crisp, illuminated blue blade, half of the people gathered in the throne room draw a weapon. Nova’s expecting Bo-Katan to do the same, but she raises one impeccable eyebrow and turns back towards the room.

“Stop,” she says, and immediately, the majority of the room lowers whatever weapon of choice they’re gripping. Nova manages a tiny, stuttered breath. “She’s not going to hurt us.”

“She,” a voice says from the back of the room, “is wanted by multiple parties. Contacts all over the galaxy will pay a pretty price for Andromeda Maluev, you know. I accepted the cult member as Mand’alor. I accepted you standing down from the throne, Bo-Katan. I will not accept harboring a criminal,” he continues, voice as icy as Hoth, “and a Jedi, at that.”

Din moves forward, all tension, all rage, but Bo-Katan holds up that same, steady hand, and the man making his way across the foreground halts in the same beat that Din does. Nova pulls her own lightsaber back, pocketing it, pulling the shawl higher over her shoulders, trying to unclench her jaw before all of her teeth break off in her mouth. She’s tired. So tired. Exhausted, slogging through this conversation, her heartbeat accelerating, stars shooting out behind her eyes. And still, this time, when she closes them, all she sees is MURDER, MURDER, MURDER.

“Her name,” Bo-Katan returns, measured and cool, “is Novalise Djarin. And yes, she is wanted by both the scum that still survived after the Empire’s demise, and a middleman somewhere in between which we cannot identify yet. Yes, she is a Jedi, or at least is certainly heading in that way. Yes, I stood down from the title. But that wasn’t because I was weak, or because I wanted them on the throne.”

“Bo-Katan—”

“Nova,” Bo-Katan interjects, “I’ve got this.” She steps off the lowest stair on the dias, posture perfect, right arm curled around her distinctive helmet. Everything in her screams royalty, regality. Behind her eyes is a fire so much stronger than the ice in her voice. “I didn’t want this. Neither did you. But Din won the Darksaber, fair and square. And Mandalore isn’t what it used to be. None of us are, either. We’re good at surviving, but we’re even better at fighting. And I believe,” she says, pointedly, glancing over at Din, who’s still coiled in an attack position, “that was the point our Mand’alor was getting to. So let him finish. With your mouths closed.”

The man who spoke, wizened but grizzled, exhales angrily through his nose, but his mouth stays clamped shut. Bo-Katan stands at attention, nodding back at Din.

“War is coming,” Din continues stiffly, and half of the people crowded around the room roll their eyes or mutter under their breath.

“War is always coming,” another woman enunciates, “it’s what the galaxy knows best.”

“War is coming,” Din repeats, and Nova has to force herself to unfurl her palms. Before she can even try to jump to his aid, though, he walks down the steps and presses his flat palm against the holotable. Reflected in the glittering dome above them is thousands of pixels of blue light. Nova’s juvenile mugshot is up there for the entire room to see, but so are statistics from every mission they’ve engaged in, anything even remotely related to the Order. Hundreds of faces swarm the screen, all with interwoven lines connecting them to other profiles and rotating planets. There, at the center of the screen, is the First Order’s name in menacing, large letters. Underneath are the silhouettes of Luke, Nova, and Grogu. When Din opens his mouth this time, his words are vivid and clear. “I know that Mandalore has been razed and sieged. I know that in your eyes, I’m not one of you. I know that none of you signed up for another battle. But I also know that fighting,” Din says, his voice weary, but his dark eyebrow raised, “is what’s in our blood. All of us.”

“I won’t follow a ruler who isn’t a true Mandalorian,” the same man finally continues. He steps towards them, and his face is angry and ghastly in the flickering blue light. His rage is barely concealed, and Nova’s hand flies unconsciously to the lightsaber hanging from her belt. “And I certainly won’t protect a Jedi who doesn’t belong here.”

“Well, then,” Nova says, and she’s so bone-dead tired that she doesn’t realize she’s the one who’s speaking until the second word is out of her mouth, “good thing I can protect myself.” She chances a glance at Din, who could very easily be aggravated at her stoking the fire. The only thing written across his face, though, is pride. Nova’s eyes flicker over to Bo-Katan, who is somehow, unbelievably, wearing the same exact expression.

Din slams his fist down on the holotable, sending all of the blue light back into the atmosphere it came from. The low light of the war room is returned to its usual state, but no one speaks. “I don’t expect you to follow what I say. I’m not a dictator, and I have no interest in becoming one. But if a single one of you brings danger to this planet you claim to love to hurt me or my wife,” Din continues, and the way his lips shape around the word wife makes something warm and wet unhinge in Nova, “there will be no place in this galaxy where you can hide from me.”

Still, no one moves.

“Mand’alor,” Bo-Katan snaps, icily, all of her usual vigor and venom back in her voice, and it’s like she’s given an order no one can deny. Half of the Mandalorians nod in wary agreement, and the other half keep their low mumbles close to their chests, all of them shuffling out of the throne room, presumably to disperse outside. When the heavy door closes shut, with only the three of them remaining, Bo-Katan turns back to Nova. Din is already climbing the steps back up the dais where the menacing beskar throne sits to retrieve his fallen helmet. When he pulls it back over his handsome face, it’s like closing an open wound.

Nova looks at Bo-Katan, who doesn’t look nearly as threatening in this low light. Her hair is slightly ruffled, and the hard set of her jaw is tense, electric. “Bo-Katan,” Nova whispers, and her gaze snaps impeccably back to Nova’s. “Thank you,” Nova continues, earnest, “for defending me. Defending us. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did,” Bo-Katan counters, but there’s the ghost of a small smile on her beautiful, cold face. “They were wrong, and they needed to hear that. See? I’m not always a total bitch.”

The word—so commonplace, so foreign—sounds absolutely ludicrous coming out of her mouth that it makes Nova laugh out loud. The sound is both musical and jarring, and the tension held in Bo-Katan’s shoulders evaporates, even if it’s only momentarily.

“Noted,” Nova says, smiling. Maker and all the stars above, she’s exhausted. Bo-Katan glances back at Din, armored and impenetrable, and then back at Nova.

“You need sleep,” Bo-Katan allows, pulling her own helmet back over her head. “Both of you. I’ll stay down here and monitor any incoming correspondence. I’m too wired to go to bed anytime soon.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do,” Bo-Katan interrupts, and her usual edge is back in her tone. “And I will. Go.” She raises that commanding arm again, and Nova’s too exhausted to resist. She wants to take a shower and wash the last few days off of her, and then sleep for three more. Her scar hurts. Her shoulders ache. Her head feels impossibly heavy. Silently, she lets Din lead her over to the heavy double doors, her ears buzzing with fatigue, but before they step into the hall, Nova hears her name chase her across the war room. In tandem, she and Din turn, watching Bo-Katan ignite the blue holotable. There’s something unreadable about her, even under the helmet. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Bo-Katan says, finally, and the heaviness of her words is louder than the doors when they close on her impenetrable face.

Steam from the shower fills the entire fresher. It’s wet and hot, the humidity seeping deep into Nova’s skin, burrowing under the residual ache from the last few days, nestling between her cold bones from the chill back on Ahch-To, the frigidity back on Hoth. Din joins her once he wrestles off the rest of the armor, and before Nova can explain she wants him, but it’s impossible right now with how exhausted she is, how she can barely keep her eyes open, Din wordlessly lathers up his hands with her favorite, clean-smelling soap, gently raking the suds through her hair.

Nova sighs in the silence, letting her shoulders hunch over, her body weight alleviated by sagging against the warm shower walls and by the soft grip Din has on her arms, making sure she stays upward. For what feels like years, they stand together under the warm running water, reveling in the steam, the heat, without either of them needing to say anything. Din wraps Nova’s long hair up in the freshly washed towel, while she dries off the residual runoff down her arms, her thighs.

The room is cool and dark in the blue twilight, that same fog and haze sinking over the horizon. Wherever the rest of the Mandalorians went, they’ve all but disappeared off the face of the planet. Everything is an eerie kind of quiet, no bugs, no animals, no clamor, nothing that signifies any kind of sentient life outside of the castle. Most nights, that kind of awful silence makes Nova wired, like it permeates even into her dreams, but not here, not now. She has what feels like years’ worth of sleep to catch up on, and the second that Din pulls back the fluffy, silk comforter on their giant bed, Nova steps out of the towel and into the soft cocoon. Din’s barely even settled up behind her before she drifts off somewhere peaceful, somewhere that’s not here.

She sleeps. For hours, maybe days, Nova sleeps. It’s dreamless and empty, warm and safe. Usually, nightmares flicker and flash through her mind, her legs sprinting away from whatever menace or threat is chasing her, but not tonight. Nothing wakes Nova up, not the strange quiet, not Din tossing next to her, not the immeasurable weight of saving the galaxy on her shoulders. She sleeps, uninterrupted and powerfully, swaddled up under the light blue blankets that are somehow keeping all the bad things away.

In the end, it’s not a nightmare that startles her away, nor is it Din’s unshaven face pressing into the crook of her neck. It’s the sleepy, quiet beeping of her commlink, which has somehow been removed from its usual place on her wrist and is buried under the extra pillows that stand sentinel over their bed when neither Nova or Din is there.

Din, at this very moment, is also nowhere to be found, and Nova rakes a hand through her hair, tries and fails to suppress a yawn, and digs through the array of pillows on the floor until she can see the bright, red light. “Hello?” she asks, her voice still off somewhere in dreamland, and she rubs sleep from her eyes as she collapses down on the bed, body still stuck in sleep.

“Hey,” Nova hears, and it’s halfway through another yawn before she realizes it’s Cara calling. “Listen, I’d love to actually catch up, but—”

“You have news?” Nova asks, suddenly wide awake. She smooths the comforter out under her hand, crossing one of her legs underneath the other. Outside, the sky is dark.

“I have news,” Cara confirms, grimly. “I know Wedge called you to Hoth a week or so ago because there was a prison break somewhere outside of my jurisdiction.”

Nova nods before she remembers Cara can’t see her. “Yeah,” she adds, belatedly. “Yeah, but no one seemed suspicious or in league with the Order, and it was a holding cell full of minor offenders, so it was kind of a dead end.”

“Well, it was,” Cara sighs, “until it wasn’t. We were right, kind of, because no one who escaped was linked to the First Order. But the night after that prison break happened, your photo with your old name and manufactured crimes popped up as a hit from the Guild.”

Nova’s heart sinks. Something suffocating is blocking her airway, and she tries to swallow past the feeling before she can exhale. “What does that mean?” she manages, barely, hand fluttering around her necklace, pressing into the embossed star.

“Someone’s setting you up,” Cara continues, and her voice is gentler than Nova’s ever heard it. “Someone who likely knows you or Din, knows how to get under your skin. The reason why this is so dangerous is because whoever did it knows exactly what they’re doing. I’ve tried, and Karga has tried, but we can’t even identify where the hit originated from, let alone who put it out. We’re not going to stop looking, but it’s going to be hard to figure out who did it. And because the warrant is for you alive or dead…” Cara trails off, the silence buzzing and dangerous.

Nova closes her eyes before she fills in the blanks. “I’m going to be in danger anywhere I go.”

“Listen,” Cara tries, but it’s too late. Nova’s still exhausted, she’s in pain, she has no idea where Din went, and all she wants to do is to bury her face in Grogu’s head and smell his sweet, reassuring baby smell. Her heart aches. “Novalise, I’m not going to let them get to you. You have some of the strongest forces in the galaxy who’ve got your back.”

“Yeah,” Nova whispers, “and I appreciate that, Cara, I do, so much, but—but Mandalore isn’t exactly a safe haven, either. The planet knows I can use the Force, and besides that, most of the people Din’s supposed to be ruling hate our guts. I’m not scared of being left to defend myself, because it’s kind of what I’ve learned to be best at. But with what you’re telling me, there’s not a single safe place left in the galaxy for me right now.”

Cara’s silence is deafening. Nova’s heart sinks just a little bit deeper, swimming around somewhere in her stomach. “It’s not forever,” she says, but her voice is a little too glum to be anywhere near reassuring.

“I’m so tired,” Nova admits, feeling tears bubbling up at the corners of her eyes. “And I can’t rest, because that’s when someone can get me. I mean—what would you do, if you were me, Cara?”

Nova can hear Cara moving, a soft rustle underneath the comm. When she speaks again, her voice is low and clear, like she’s telling a secret that only Nova can hear. “I would do what we both know you’re going to do. You’re the rebel girl, remember?” She pauses. “So rebel.”

Nova watches as the comm clicks off, everything in her body electric, a live wire. Before she can bolt to Kicker, or try to find where Din’s hidden in the chambers of the palace, or call Wedge and tell him she’s coming back to Hoth, the door opens, and Din walks in.

“Hi,” Nova breathes, suddenly very aware she’s not wearing any clothes, which is completely ridiculous, because Din has seen, ravaged, and worshipped every inch of it. “Where were you?”

She watches as Din crosses over the floor, the low light of the day catching on his armor. He sighs, moving closer to Nova until he’s standing in between her open legs. Halfheartedly, he hooks his fingers under the rim of the helmet, but gives up completely the second Nova’s hands reach to pull it off instead. Underneath, his mustache isn’t manicured, his hair has been weighed down by the metal, and he looks about as exhausted as she feels.

“Ruling,” Din says, tiredly, and there’s a flint to it Nova hardly hears. He lets out a small scoff in the silence, and she reaches out the smooth palm of her right hand for his cheek to nestle against. “Trying to get the people of this planet to recognize I’m not here to destroy it, or that you—we’re not the enemy.” He catches his slip almost as quickly as it comes out of his mouth, but still, Nova’s heart sinks deep down in her chest again. “I didn’t—look, Nova, I’m not blaming you—”

“It’s okay,” she whispers, even though they both know it’s not. For a second, Din just stares at her, and then he presses his forehead against hers. The warmth his skin gives off is almost enough to make her forget about where they are, about the people that refuse to see her as an ally, about having to save the galaxy from forces that want her dead or for their own malicious intent. “They’ll come around,” she offers, her voice barely there, and Din shakes his head, his hair rustling against Nova’s forehead.

“What if they don’t?” Din asks, and by the weight in his voice, it’s clear he’s not just talking about Mandalore accepting her as the Mand’alor’s riduur, as an ally, as on their side, but about the infiltrated Guild that’s out to kill her, and the First Order that’s out for worse.

Nova’s quiet for a long time, just listening to him breathe, trying to map both of their heartbeats, yearning for the constellations hiding above the hazy Mandalore sky. “What if we can’t do it?” she whispers, her mouth hollow, her head aching. “Any of this? What if we can’t pull this off, Din?” She doesn’t point out the specifics, the weight of planets hanging over both of their heads. They both know what she means. The silence is horrible, but Nova keeps her eyes closed, just like she used to, predicting every move Din will make in the dark.

“Then we don’t,” Din breathes back, and Nova’s about to resist, tears springing back to life in her eyes, and then Din’s mouth is on hers and nothing else matters. She lets him sprawl her back on the bed, the smooth satin coaxing and cool under her skin. Stars are burning out behind her eyes, the same celestial imprints that flood through hyperspace, something more, something deeper, something beyond this planet, this moment, this darkness. When Din’s mouth leaves Nova’s, her eyes stay shut, and his lips trail down to her ear. “I’d give everything else up but you.”

They both know he’s lying—Din’s heart is too big, Nova’s purpose is too bright—but neither of them say it out loud. Nova keeps his words in the hollow of her mouth, something shiny and devastating, a supernova or a pearl.

Din kisses Nova like he’s never had her before, low and desperate. It’s an echo of what happened in the amphitheater just hours ago, but it’s sustained, huge, warm. His mouth is made to devour, and if he’s whispering anything to feel the silence, Nova can’t hear it. She’s focused on where his kisses are trailing, desperate and hot and everything she didn’t know she needed. It’s freezing in here, but he’s so warm, his body heat louder than the cold.

“Kiss me,” Din whispers, his voice rough, a plea. One of his hands comes up and braces against Nova’s chin, not an order, but a question. She reaches towards his neck, trying to pull him down, to anchor their bodies together. It’s dark in their room. Without the stars shining above, it’s even darker.

She’s so tired. Still, even after all that rest, it’s like the exhaustion has permeated Nova straight down to her bones. She shudders and sighs as Din moves down her naked body, his lips planting kisses that she doesn’t know she needs until he’s already there. It’s easy and devastating and wonderful and crushing all at once. When Nova tries to return the favor, Din gently pushes her down, mumbling something about taking care of her.

It’s sweet. So sweet, even, that she’s on the verge of tears. Nova would do anything to stay here forever, to feel her husband’s lips on her bare skin, washing away all of the horror, the trauma, the darkness. She doesn’t open her eyes, even though she wants to. Din’s spent so much time without his helmet to appear like one of the people that call themselves Mandalorians, and she wants to give him back every single second of the time that prying eyes stole away.

Before long, Nova’s already close—her orgasm bubbling up quietly, without fanfare, without dramatics, just because Din knows exactly how to make her body sing—and when she taps at his arm to let him know, his mouth unlatches from the small hickies he’s leaving on the terrain of her bare stomach, and moves in between her thighs.

Effortlessly, he hold her legs up, hooking both of them around his shoulders so that his tongue can stay anchored in place. Nova moans, a quiet, radiant thing, and Din’s tongue finds exactly where she needs it to go. It pulses there, on the sweetest of spots, over and over again until she’s finished.

Breathless, she claws at his pants again, but Din shakes his head, his mouth dropping to her forehead as he pulls her into bed. “Rest, Nova,” he whispers, his voice faraway, a deep rumble. He pulls her in against his body, warm and soothing, and both of them are out before their heads hit their pillow.

Din’s asleep next to her, his slow, even breaths barely anything even in all the silence. Nova wants to fall back to sleep, but she knows she can’t. Her heartbeat is running itself rampant, and she’s a tangle of wants and needs, everything pulled in opposite directions. As quietly as she can, she slides herself out from the protective warmth of Din’s arms and the comforter, gently placing her feet on the floor. Even in the cool darkness of the night, her wardrobe, sleek but huge, has nothing but clothes in the same shades of Mandalorian blue, of beskar silver, but right now, Novalise doesn’t want to be a Mandalorian. She doesn’t want to be royalty, doesn’t want to be a figurehead. She doesn’t exactly want to be a Rebel either, because both titles mean the ultimate fate of the Outer Rim and beyond in her hands, so she settles for somewhere in between.

When she’s all dressed—black monochrome right down to her scuffed boots, in a weak imitation of the Luke Skywalker style—she braids the top half of her hair back, sleek and functional, and chooses a shawl buried at the back of her closet, underneath all of the Mandalorian haze of clothing. It’s a stormy grey that shimmers with the silver her husband wears when the fabric catches the light. If you pay close enough attention to the shawl, small, intentional stitches of rust and orange are woven into the fabric, hidden, furious, tiny flames.

Not exactly Mandalorian, but not entirely Rebel, either. And when Nova looks at herself in the mirror, studying the way her eyes flash with all that fire she was so certain was gone a few minutes ago, she sees herself right down to the quick, the high wire in between—she looks something like a Jedi.

So she pulls the Skywalker family lightsaber out of the hook on her door and pulls it to her belt loop, watching as the metal sways and dances in the low light. The weapon seems ancient, like something from another world. Something holy, even though she knows Luke Skywalker is a man and not a myth.

When she closes the bedroom door behind her, Din doesn’t even move. Usually, Nova’s the loud and clumsy one, worlds more obnoxious than Din’s practiced quiet, but she’s grown into her stealth over the last few weeks, especially living here, in a palace that has more rooms than the planet does people. It’s strange and eerie here at night, down the sprawling marble stairs, and she takes the first corridor she can find, just trying to walk off some of the pressure, to put her head back on her shoulders.

It’s lit only by candlelight, an archaic, flickering warmth, so in contrast to the rest of the steel and metal that Mandalore is made up of. It’s like she’s stepped into something that’s been around for years, even though she knows that it’s not possible. Mandalore was sieged, usurped, sieged again, razed and brought to the ground, destroyed. The planet’s atmosphere is mostly ash and haze, all that leftover war from years ago. But this part of the palace looks older, like a tomb that somehow survived.

It’s too creepy, Nova decides, even though the curious part of her is itching to explore it. She wants to pore through every aspect of it, try to find remnants of lost Mandalore, like her father used to unearth texts, like her mother used to excavate history. Before the war, before the Alliance was necessary, before all this death and darkness. When Nova comes out the other end of the corridor, she’s right next to the intimidating double doors of the war room, the holiest place Mandalore has. She pulls her shawl a little closer to her body, trying to retain the warmth she left back upstairs, trying to hold onto a memory more than anything tangible.

Nova isn’t intending to slip into the war room, let alone walk towards the sprawling dais that holds the beskar throne, but she does. It’s still quiet, so quiet, and the dark is coaxing her closer, pulling her up the steps, something beyond a simple want or need. She has the sneaking suspicion that she’s not supposed to be in here, not this late, not without Din, not when she has no legal or physical right to this place, but when she sits down on the throne, something deeper echoes out from within her chest.

It feels like a hymn and a battle cry. Before she has a second to adjust, to rationalize anything, everything becomes starry and disconnected. It’s been so long since she had a Force vision this immediate, this intense, and it hurls her through the proverbial hyperspace, everything dropping away.

It takes three steps forward in this strange, terrifying liminal space before Nova can even identify what’s scaring her. It’s the same kind of evil she felt way back on Takodana, before she was married to the ruler of a planet, before she even knew it was her destiny to be both Rebel and Jedi. There’s a mask she doesn’t recognize, twisted and devious. Behind its menacing, blank expression is something horrifying. Looking into the visor, it’s like her own soul is being fractured into pieces.

It’s humanoid until it’s not. The figure wearing the mask of destruction is tall, easily a foot taller than she is, horrible and menacing. But when the lightsaber they’re using ignites, it’s scarier than the vision of the person at all. It’s awful. It looks like it was forged out of lava, menacing red, the blade flickering and hissing in a way that’s somehow even more terrifying than the stark contrast of the Darksaber’s blade. Nova gasps, the light too bright, too sudden, and she can feel the residual thud on the floor, even in the vision. She knows when she comes out of it, she’ll be hurt, but the blade is getting closer. It looks like a giant rapier, a sword made only for evil things. At the hilt, spraying out in both directions, the blade extends. When the figure in the mask swings, it’s without remorse, so quick, so terrible.

But Nova’s not the target. She rolls away, out of the strike zone, and then she hears Luke Skywalker’s voice cutting through the darkness. She turns, and suddenly she’s not in the horror of the vision, anymore. She doesn’t know where she is. The ground looks icy, like Hoth, but there’s red powder spit everywhere, vomited across giant salt deposits. It’s so bright that her hand comes up in front of her eyes, and when she lowers it, Luke is gone. She’s gone, too. She turns around, hair whipping in the furious wind, trying to find where her name is being cried, and she trips over a mound on the salty ground, and when she falls to her knees, it’s a person, newly slain. The blood is so red, redder than the powder, redder than the evil lightsaber. It drowns through the lines on her hands, slips through her long fingers. She screams, trying to back up from the body, and then she realizes it’s Bo-Katan, gurgling through the slit in her throat, and when Nova tries desperately, in vain, to buffer the blood spilled, Luke Skywalker calls her name again.

But it’s not Luke. It is him—for a second, for the tiniest fraction of a moment—but then it’s not. His lightsaber floods with red, cancelling out the green light. The hallway flickers, once, twice, and then Darth Vader is charging towards her, and all Nova can hear is her blood pounding frantically in her ears and his heavy breathing through his mask, the sound that used to fill all of her nightmares. She’s slamming on the door at the other end of the hallway, and when it opens, the only person standing there isn’t a person at all, but a small alien baby all of two feet tall, green and adorable, and Nova drops her body around her son, protective and sobbing, curling every single inch of her around his tiny little frame, trying to shield him from Vader’s wrath, but when she cries, the vision changes again.

She can feel the motion sickness bubbling up in her stomach, horrible and nauseating. When Nova lands, she doesn’t open her eyes. She’s seen more than enough. Even right now, in the middle of her Force vision, all she wants to do is go back to sleep. She can feel the ache she slept away burrowing right back into her bones. Her scar is pulsing, enraged and angry. The headache she spent the last two and a half weeks fighting off is back, radiating straight down to behind her left eye. It’s all too much, and she can’t look. She doesn’t want to see anything else.

“Novalise,” she hears again, and the only reason she opens her eyes this time is because it’s her mother speaking. Her mother, who only ever called her Andromeda. Her mother, who spent half her life in the stars. Her mother, long dead. Her mother, who never got to know this version of her daughter, this Jedi-in-training, royal Rebel Girl that just desperately needs a hug from her mom.

“Mom,” she cries, and it’s so white. Everything here is antiseptic and deafening. It doesn’t even look like a planet, or even a room, or anything at all. She’s not even sure if there’s a floor, but Nova starts running like she’s never ran before in her life. Her breath is ragged and coming out in bursts. The jiggle in her chest and thighs burn under her speed, but she doesn’t care. She’s racing towards her mother, towards open arms, towards everything she’s been cheated out of for the last ten years.

It lasts for a second. Just a second. The figure is Piper Maluev, her skin dark and radiant, her hair down to her waist. Her lips are wide open and welcoming, her eyes crinkled at the seams. She’s tall and radiant and strong, and she’s everything Nova’s missed for nearly half her life.

And then it isn’t Piper. It’s not Luke, either, or Darth Vader, or whoever the dark, terrible, masked figure was. It’s not her usual nightmare transformation of Jacterr Calican. It’s not Bo-Katan, convulsing and dying. It’s Din. Just for a moment, a tiny fraction of relief, and then it’s not Din, either.

It’s a woman Nova’s never seen before, and her hand is clamped firmly around Nova’s windpipe. Like it’s nothing, she pulls her right off the disappearing floor and choking the life out of her. Her eyes are light but so terrifyingly menacing, her hair is a mess of a dark blonde. She’s pale and awful and her face is gleeful as she pulls the life out of Nova, a sucking, open wound.

She can’t talk. She doesn’t even want to plead for her life. If she’s this close to death anyway, and she just saw her mother, Nova figures there’s a pretty damn good chance that both of her parents are just over the other side. The woman is so happy to be killing Nova off, she doesn’t want to fight it. When her grip recedes, just for a half a second, Nova chokes out a confession that makes everything else grind to a halt.

It’s four words. Barely anything. Tears are streaming down her cheeks when her lips finally open. “I want my mom.”

Then she’s being dropped onto the floor, which very much exists now, and the light room filled with nothingness curls away, receding like it’s being burned. It’s dark in here, the tiled floor slippery and treacherous. In the background, there’s a makeshift trophy made from what looks like bones. Nova’s gasping for air, fighting back with a newfound vigor, kicking her legs helplessly to try and get some leverage on this woman who wants her dead, when, suddenly, she’s at eye level with her.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she seethes, a terrifying smile still spread across her horrible, beautiful face. “When I find you, you’re going to be begging for your life instead of your death.”

“Who—who are you?” Nova manages, through agony. Her shoulders hurt. Her headache feels like it’s trying to split her jaw in half. Her scar feels like it’s being reopened. Everything is torture, and she can’t even breathe.

“You’ll see,” the woman whispers, and her voice is so deadly that Nova internally corrects every time she’s ever called Bo-Katan venomous. Bo-Katan Kryze is a flower. One of the iridescent, gorgeous ones, that lined all the brush on Yavin, the ones Nova’s spent years pressing into the pages of every journal she’s ever owned. She’s kind and lovely and Nova’s very best friend, and when she gets out of this alive, Nova’s going to tell Bo-Katan that. “I’m going to enjoy killing you, Andromeda.”

Nova heaves one giant breath into her lungs, trying to muster up anything that she can, even if it’s just more air. “I—” she starts, and the woman smiles again, loaded and dangerous. “I—I already did that, you miserable bitch,” Nova manages, and when she’s slammed into the awful floor, it’s worth it. There’s some kind of desperation behind the woman’s eyes, now and when her hand finds Nova’s throat again, she spits in her face.

And then she’s out of it. Hurtled out of it, actually, like a dying starfighter in the middle of space. She gasps and heaves on the floor, and as her sight comes back, her breathing does, too. Her head is still killing her. Her shoulders feel like they’re trying to carry the entire weight of Mandalore. Her scar is awful, white-hot and painful to the touch. Somewhere, distantly, her knees hurt like she’s fallen to them, and when she gains back her sense of sight and the feeling of her life being choked out of her body subsides, Nova realizes she has fallen to them. She’s fallen a lot, actually, down multiple steps leading to the floor from the raised platform where she was once sitting in the beskar throne. Nova shudders, inhaling through a terrible wheeze, curling her legs up close to her chest, trying to shake off the absolute shitshow that just hurtled her through the most traumatic Force vision she’s ever had.

“You,” comes a booming, rueful voice, and when Nova’s eyes flutter open, she’s expecting it to be the malicious, purple-haired woman from her vision. Her eyes take a second to adjust, her left one throbbing from the horrid ache pulsing behind it, and when she finally locates the source, it’s the miserable man from the gathering earlier.

“Can I help you?” Nova asks, her voice shooting up at the end, on the verge of tears.

“You aren’t supposed to be up there,” he spits, and Nova squints up at the throne she’d just fallen from.

“I know,” she whispers, dully. She presses a shaking hand to the ache behind her eye, trying to shut out this conversation like she wishes she’d ignored the vision. She tries to stand up, but her knees are too bruised to sustain pulling her to her feet, so she just slumps back against the step she’s on, trying to muster all the strength she has in her exhausted body to not break down. “I’m sorry,” Nova tacks on, the words barely there. “I—I wasn’t intending to sit here, or even come in the room, it just—”

“Happened,” he finishes, oddly calm. His voice sounds closer. Much closer. Nova opens her right eye, and he’s only at the bottom of the staircase. There’s something so wretched and dangerous about the energy he’s giving off, and she wants to run, but she’s in no position to even stand, let alone fight him off, so she just sits there, curling her knees into her chest, pulling her shawl as tight as she can against her upper body. “You’re an abomination.”

A laugh, the traitorous thing, bubbles up inside Nova’s throat. It’s not funny. It’s not. It’s pathetic, and likely racially motivated, but she can’t help herself. Her ribs ache, like they got banged up in her distant fall down these sharp, steep marble steps. “That, surprisingly, is not the first time I’ve been called an abomination in my life.”

“Do you know what the Jedi did to our people, little girl?” He’s angry. Nova can hear it in his voice. And normally, it would scare her, trigger her fight or flight reflex, keep her moving, but after her paranormal face-off with two of the scariest figures she’s ever seen, this one isn’t really that high up on our list. “I do. You were eradicated for good reason. You scorched our planet down to nothing, and now you and your cult leader husband come back here and try to take over? Not on my watch.”

Nova can feel him getting closer. He’s so much bigger than she is, up close, tall and buff, menacing and taut. She weakly pulls her hand away from her eye, trying to at the very least give him her full attention, but she’s so fucking tired. It’s in her bones, at this point. She doesn’t want to be royalty. She doesn’t want to be a Rebel. And, in contrast to what the man in front of her is screaming, she doesn’t want to be a Jedi.

She wants to be the Novalise she was on Naator, with nothing but domesticity and yellow leaves and pink skies. She wants to be the protector she was out there in hyperspace. And, for the first time in ten years, she wants to be Andromeda Maluev, fifteen and gleeful, running around Yavin knowing the stars were her destiny and that evil could always be defeated.

“I don’t even want to be here,” Nova whispers, finally, and it’s like something inside her breaks.

“Good,” the man spits, “then we’re in agreement.” And then his hands are yanking away the hood of her shawl and tangling in her braided hair. Nova’s scream gets cut off as she’s thrown down the rest of the stairs, like her body’s giving up. She chokes out something horrible, fighting to get to her bruised, banged up knees, sore from the fall, aching from the blissful time riding Din’s face less than an hour ago, but she can’t summon the strength. Somewhere, she knows Luke Skywalker is yelling at her to use the Force, but Nova’s had enough force today to last a lifetime. When she’s kicked in the stomach, brutal and awful, she just curls in on herself, hoping her death isn’t a slow one. He startles towards her again, ripping her shawl off of her body, clawing at the meat of her upper arm, and something snaps inside of her. If she’s going to die, really die, it’s not because she succumbed to the injuries this rabid Mandalorian is giving her to try and put the blame on her shoulders. She survived Moff Gideon. She survived Din and Grogu leaving her. She survived her parents dying. And she survived the abuse of Jacterr Calican’s awful hands. Novalise can survive this.

When her lightsaber roars to life in her hands, it’s not only Nova swinging. She can feel the weight of what it being the Skywalker family lightsaber, of Luke and Leia before her, of his father before him, of all the generations yet to come to wield this weapon, this holy sword, this impossible thing. It takes all of her energy, a brilliant beam of blue light, and then she falls to the floor, knowing that even if this is where it ends, that she fought back.

Everything next comes in flashes. It’s in these tiny fractals like what happened when the Crest had died right over Dagobah and crashed to the surface. She sees a blade ignite, and in between the rhythm of her fading in and out of consciousness, Nova thinks she’s just watching herself fight the man back. Suddenly, he drops to the floor, his body nothing but dead weight, and she wants to scream, but she’s back out. It’s horrible and deafening. She’s being scooped up, she can feel that. She’s crying. She’s definitely crying. There are voices, loud ones. When she has enough strength to open her eyes again, Din is slamming his gloved fist against the airlock on Kicker, his voice frantic. She can’t make out what he’s saying, though, and another face appears above her. Din gently transfers Nova’s limp body into someone else’s arms, and when Nova looks up, it’s Bo-Katan, her face so panicked it’s almost impossible to recognize who it is.

“Nova, you gotta stay awake,” Bo-Katan whispers, her palm slapping softly at Nova’s cheek. “C’mon, I mean it. If you die here on this planet you hate, I will haunt you in the afterlife. I swear, you have to stay awake.”

“I don’t—” Nova starts, and Bo-Katan shakes her head.

“You literally should not be talking,” Bo-Katan says, her eyesight dipping to Nova’s neck. Her eyes widen for a second and then her smooth fingers ghost over the outline. Nova coughs at her light touch, and she realizes that the marks from the vision she had of being choked within an inch of her life are here, that they followed her back out of the vision and into this moment. “Nova, no, shut up, I’m serious—”

“I don’t—don’t hate Mandalore,” she manages, her voice sounding like shards of glass, and Bo-Katan offers her a hasty, worried smile.

“You do,” Bo-Katan argues, but her voice is so gentle. “But don’t worry, princess, we’re getting you the hell off of it. No complaints now that you’re off Mandalore, you got it? The second you got here, I knew both of you wanted to leave.”

Din’s at her side again, and Bo-Katan kneels down, gently placing Nova in her familiar tangle of blankets and pillows. Nova’s eyes close again, and when they slide back open, Bo-Katan is standing, trading worried glances and hushed tones with Din.

Nova’s head hurts. So bad. It’s splitting down the middle of her skull, actually, but all she can do is press a hand over her eye and try to block out the familiar low light of the ship that smells more like home than this entire planet ever had.

“Listen, about what I told you back on Hoth—”

“It’s fine,” Din cuts her off, and his next few words are warbled. “I get it. Your allegiance is to Mandalore, not to us.”

Nova can’t hear Bo-Katan’s answer. In fact, she’s not even sure if there’s even words being spoken, because the next time she looks up, Bo-Katan is just staring down at her, incredibly concerned, such an obvious change from her usually stoic expression. Nova’s whole body feels like it’s on fire. She’s exhausted. Bo-Katan kneels down again, just for a split second, to pull the loose end of Nova’s shawl over the rest of her folded body. Nova wants to cry.

“Flower,” she garbles, nonsensically. She’s trying to tell Bo-Katan that she’s sorry for all the animosity, that she trusts her, and more than that, she likes her. It doesn't make a single lick of sense to anyone outside of Nova’s head, but Bo-Katan offers a tiny smile anyway.

“Here,” Din says, stiffly, holding out the sheathed blade of the Darksaber to Bo-Katan. Nova’s eyes flutter closed, just for a beat, and when they open back up, Bo-Katan is pushing the weapon back into Din’s grip.

“It’s not mine,” she insists. “Besides, you’re not getting out of it that easy. You’ll be back.”

“Bo-Katan—”

“Take care of her,” Bo-Katan interrupts. Nova blacks out again until they’re up in hyperspace. Din’s body is shielding her from the cold, his limbs draped all over the places that hurt the least. When she opens her eyes, they’re floating through the cosmos, and all her eyes can see is sweet, sweet stardust.

as always, reply here or send me a message to be added to the taglist!!! (and if you’ve already asked me and you’re not on it, please message me again!!!)

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chattingwiththelightkeeper · 8 months

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Does Learning Ever Stop?

The world of BDSM is far from static. It is a dynamic and ever-evolving realm that demands a commitment to ongoing and continuous education. While the core principles of BDSM remain constant – consent, communication, and safety – there is a constant flow of new ideas and practices that necessitate staying informed and adapting. Because the lifestyle is ever-changing and always moving forward, let’s explore why education in BDSM should be ongoing and why embracing change is essential focusing on the introduction of new kinks and fetishes, innovative approaches to traditional practices, and the influence of newcomers in this diverse community.

The Ever-Changing Landscape of BDSM

Introduction of New Kinks and Fetishes:

BDSM is a vast and diverse community, and it is no stranger to the introduction of new kinks and fetishes. People are constantly exploring and discovering what arouses and excites them, leading to the emergence of novel interests. An ongoing education ensures that participants remain aware of these emerging kinks and fetishes, and can safely explore them within the framework of consent and safety.

Evolution of Old Practices:

Even seemingly traditional BDSM practices can evolve. New techniques, tools, and approaches continually emerge, enhancing the experience for those involved. Staying updated on these innovations is crucial, as it allows individuals to explore their desires more effectively, safely, and with heightened pleasure.

The Influence of Newcomers:

The BDSM community is dynamic, with new individuals constantly joining its ranks. These newcomers bring fresh perspectives, ideas, and practices that contribute to the evolution of the community. Staying informed about the innovations and viewpoints newcomers bring can enrich the experience for everyone.

The Importance of Ongoing Education in BDSM

Safety and Consent:

BDSM emphasizes the fundamental principles of safety and consent. As new practices and techniques emerge, participants must have access to updated knowledge and guidelines. Ongoing education ensures that individuals can continue to engage in BDSM safely, with a deep understanding of the nuances of consent and risk mitigation.

Fostering Personal Growth:

BDSM is a journey of self-discovery and personal growth. An ongoing commitment to education enables individuals to expand their horizons, explore their desires, and develop a more profound understanding of themselves and their partners.

Enriching Relationships:

For those in BDSM relationships, ongoing education can enhance the connection between partners. It allows them to explore new fantasies and desires together, deepening their emotional bond.

BDSM is a dynamic, ever-evolving world that thrives on diversity, consent, and innovation. To truly embrace the transformative power of BDSM, individuals must commit to ongoing education. The introduction of new kinks and fetishes, the evolution of traditional practices, and the influence of newcomers all contribute to the ever-changing landscape of BDSM. Ongoing education ensures that participants can navigate this evolving world safely, fulfill their desires, and continuously enrich their experiences.

In a community built on trust and communication, the willingness to learn and adapt is not just a choice, but a necessity. As the world of BDSM continues to grow and evolve, embracing change through ongoing education remains at the core of this unique and fulfilling lifestyle.

What resources do you use to learn more about the lifestyle and which ones do you recommend?

If you enjoyed this, I invite you to give my podcast a listen 'Chatting With The Lightkeeper,' a top 25% most-followed podcasts on Spotify but available on all the major podcasting apps and follow my socials for more exclusive content: Instagram, Facebook, and X (formerly Twitter) for a deeper dive into the wonderful world of D/S.

As with all of my thoughts, please see this disclaimer.

©TLK2023

#d/s relationship #bd/sm community #dom/sub #d/s community #my writing #the daily d/s

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pyrrhesia · 3 years

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FF14Write - ‘Adroit’

In which Ysabet Sable lays the groundwork for an uncomfortable interview.

It did not take Ysabet long to realise that she was, in theory, being taken to her death. Downstairs, it had been a lovely soiree, particularly for the kind of person who casually said words like 'soiree'. There had been pretty little cakes and revealing small talk, Ul'dah's finest, brightest and chiefly wealthiest proving they really were the jewel of Eorzea by schmoozing with the best of them. Ysabet watched keenly, listened intently. She talked little - a mercy, some would say - hovering on the fringes, laying waste to the hors d'eouvres. It took some time for someone to approach her directly. A silken-clad lalafell, introducing herself as Cecevo Cevo, and more importantly someone fascinated by how an Ivalician could have found her way so far. Ysabet hesitated at first, but Cecevo went in for the kill, asking if she'd prefer more intimate surroundings... and a better vintage of wine. One that would be wasted on the Gridanians. It was a little throwaway jab, not even one Ysabet particularly disagreed with, but she wondered how likely it truly was that the lalafell saw anything different in a more distant forest's dweller. Perhaps familiarity bred contempt, but it still stood out, and one learned to trust instinct. A certain vintage of fool grew brazenly open in the presence of thick foreign accents. So they began the climb up a sandstone stairwell, Ysabet languidly taking two or three of the lalafell-built steps at a time, the sounds of the party slowly fading away until they came to a tidy little room off to the side. She sank into a too-small seat, Cecevo took her own rather more comfortably. The wine and cakes were already set out. Cecevo poured out two glasses from the same pitcher, and sipped. So the wine was safe, but... "You won't eat?" Ysabet asked innocently. Cecevo missed a step, but only a step. "Ah, I fear I overindulged, downstairs..." Ysabet's smile did not reach her eyes. "Perhaps we should have lingered for a round of dancing to work an appetite back up." "I'd struggle to keep pace with you, I'm sure." "Well, I am an excellent dancer," said Ysabet, the picture of modesty. "There's no shame in that. I have to imagine that isn't the sole reason you've brought me here to sample your excellent wine." In an isolated room with no witnesses... or, perhaps not? Her ears pricked. The opaque curtains to the balcony rustled in the breeze, but only on the edges. Ysabet wondered who had drawn the short straw for lurking places. "Ah, blame curiosity." Cevo leaned forward, steepling her hands under her chin. "I just wondered to know how the most beautiful and accomplished of the Scions came to Eorzea, what perhaps she's accomplished, or, perhaps, her future plans might be... ? Where she might see herself rising to in the future?" Laying it on a bit thick, aren't we... "I hope to write an account of the age, from an enviable vantage point." "Ah, a scholar..." "Beyond which my peerless grasp of magic, honed over a century of study, has made my services indispensable to the Scions. It is good to find a fitting calling, don't you find?" "Peerless?" said Cecevo weakly, feeling she'd rather lost the thread of the conversation. And yet Ysabet was the 'most accomplished' of the Scions, a few seconds ago. "I've always held that humility is the refuge of the mediocre," said Ysabet primly. "Are you sure you won't eat?" "The cakes are excellent, I sampled them before, but a little sweet for my taste," said Cecevo, desperately. "Well, I'm afraid I must object. The tradition is that one gets to decide one's own last meal, do they not? I'd rather a last taste of home, given the opportunity. Sentimental, I know, but if not on the brink of the end, then when?" Cecevo stared blankly. "Uh--" Ysabet rose from her seat. "Allow me then to be direct, then. In small words. You are trying to have me killed. I am not angry - yet - but you would do well to tell me about this insultingly amateurish-- ah, my apologies, bad plot." The Monetarist looked rather hurt. "Though we're done being coy, there's no need to treat me like a fool." Ysabet’s nails sank into the wooden table. "Believe me, I'm aware of how insulting it feels." "They told me you were vulnerable to flattery." "Ah, so they are keeping tabs on me..." Ysabet chuckled. "You really thought I'd be so naive?" "... But you did come. Alone." "Mm, perhaps." Casually, Ysabet swept a projection of air towards the balcony, the curtains billowing madly as a scream trailed away. "But not, I think, unawares." Finally, Cecevo paled as the viera leaned in closer, tracing her cheek and jaw with a long nail that her panicked hindbrain recontextualised as a claw. "What is the plan here, Cevo? Why did you need me here?" The lalafell found some vestige of resistance, and leaned forward in her seat, Ysabet's talon scoring her cheek. "Yet again you overestimate yourself, Sable! We don't need you. We just needed you out of the way." "Explain," said the viera, but explanation did not prove necessary. Downstairs, the screaming had started, and that seemed a cue for the door to their chamber to burst in, a pack of Brass Blades falling over each other to get in. Ysabet rammed Cecevo's head into the table and threw her aside, pulled her sabre free from her belt and levelled it at the newcomers. One of the Brass Blades stuck to the script: "You're under arrest, Ysabet Sable!" "Oh, spare me the pretense. You had a killer lurking in the shadows and poison in the cakes. Just have the decency to tell me, was it Adeledji or Nanarito?" "The rightful ruler of Ul'dah." "Yes, I'm aware gil was involved, but who paid you?" The screams from below were only getting louder. More worryingly, there was the sound of clashing metal from above. Time was not on her side, here. "Nevermind." She sighed, and flourished her sabre. "Do as you feel you must. But know your fat purses will only avail you if you survive the night, and I guarantee you, the first to step forward will die like the gods in my wake."

It had been a good threat, she reflected an hour later, dragging herself clear of the palace with one leg trailing behind in the dirt. But perhaps it lacked the immediacy of the sergeant's answering 'get her, lads'. She'd crashed into the charge like a tempest, with the luxury of knowing wherever her sword or sorcery landed would be in an enemy, as they only got in each others' way. The blue coats turning on them, though, that was novel. They'd been so confused as Sable had burst free into the hallway, coated in blood, violet eyes manic, demanding their aid to keep the peace. It had been a good idea for their leader to put a reassuring hand up, before sliding a dirk into her gut, but the man really should have aimed for a killer blow. It had been... a bad night. There were others, too, as she'd stumbled down against the press of bodies to at least see what had happened, saw Raubahn and Ilberd duelling in the main hall. Saw broken bodies scattered. Saw more people in her way. Each soldier seemed to think they could be the straw that broke the camel's back, that they could be the one to make the difference. Ysabet allowed herself a quiet chuckle, as she pressed against a wall, tried to knit her wounds shut with her fading aether. They'd seen her as a joke, before the banquet. It had been to her advantage - it was why, after all, she was still alive - but she'd left enough survivors in her wake who could testify otherwise. So where to, now? Did any of the other Scions even still live? Somehow, she doubted the other city-states would be safe, so where did that leave? She felt snow in her future. Her ears flicked with irritation. It had been the end of a good thing. And perhaps... perhaps, when all this was over... she might even be able to find out why.

Months passed, seasons changed, political fortunes rose and fell. Cecevo Cevo had just about landed on her feet, albeit with a nasty scar around the temple. Nanarito had ensured an acceptable status quo going forward, with a rehabilitated but defanged order of Scions - well, they could hardly have been allowed to keep a private army of their own, could they? And they were mostly keeping to the Toll and Ishgard, these days... She still got these dreadful headaches, though. Mopping her brow, she cast open the door to her office, and saw a horribly familiar figure draped over Cecevo's armchair, feet crossed and resting on a desk too small for her. Ysabet Sable smiled, without mirth. "Cecevo, my dear. I was wondering if, in the spirit of cooperation in which we now find ourselves, you had time to answer a few questions... ?"

#FFxivWrite2021 #adroit #OC: ysabet sable

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tarithenurse · 4 years

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Stolen - 34

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!gifted!reader Content: Not all surprises are nice. No proofing, btw. A/N: Well...it took some time (and likely there’ll be some waiting for the next chapter too), but...TADAAAA! Ask or re-blog for tag.

34. Four Rusted Horses

... Reader ...

You’ve learned enough about the King of Asgard to know that you should expect the worse even if you’d told Loki to hope for the best. Still, nothing could have prepared you for the sight that met you when walking into the throne room.

Beside the usual entourage, is a newcomer. On one of the lower steps of the dais stands a man whom you’d never imagined meeting again, at least not in the halls of Valhalla. The once bald head sports a dense patch of reddish hair shaven into a square on the top of the skull, and his outfit is slightly different (altered to include leathery holsters crossing the broad chest) – at least he’s unarmed, it seems.

Arox.

The king glances briefly at the man who nods. “That’s her.”

A rush of nerves shoot through your body and into your stomach as several guards leap to surround you with their weapons at the ready.

Keep calm. “Your highness. Arox.” You fight the urge to swallow a dry lump in the throat. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Or ever.” The grin on his face proves to you that he somehow intends to mess with the plan. “Last time I saw you was when you foiled my attempt at escape and delivered me back to Loki...then you disappeared.”

Brows wrinkle in slight confusion: whichever way he had assumed this would go down did no include you admitting to knowing him or twisting reality subtly. You will have to take care how far you push the truth – most liars get tangled in the web they spin, unable to remember what they’ve told who.

“That’s not...uhm...” You almost feel sorry for the guy as he tries to attune to the new way things look. “Esc-...you weren’t escaping.”

The butt of Odin’s spear, Gungnir, lands heavily on the floor and the resulting boom echoes through the hall. Bowing your head in an unspoken apology to the king, you recognize the ill temper that almost makes his beard bristle – it’s not entirely unlike Loki’s fits of venomous rage. Like father, like son.

You notice how Frigga’s lips reduces to a thin line before she recomposes herself. “My king husband, perhaps we must compare each step of the respective perspectives in these account?”

It’s hard not to hold you breath as you wait for the one-eyed man to nod.

... Loki ...

Straining his ears, Loki curses the architects of old who ensured it was impossible to eavesdrop from the unseen corridors reserved for the servants. The throne room would under normal circumstances have been easy to slip into unseen but Odin seems to have doubled the guards at the arrival of the stranger.

Stranger.

Truth be told, the once-prince would have preferred if it really were a new player in this game of charades rather than the former ally. Ally...that gives him too much credit. And yet, it appears as though recognition is exactly what Arox is owed. The man knows some things due to his temporary position as Loki’s right hand man. His only aid.

Recruiting him had been entirely dependant on the hope of thwarting Thanos, and there had been no reason to hide the rough outline of the plan to establish a base, rise an army, and eventually destabilize the Mad Titan’s power. Any details, however, had only been shared with the revenge seeking oaf as it became necessary.

He does not know everything. Loke is well aware that [Y/N] success stands and fall with her ability to highlight the gaps in Arox’s knowledge.

A rumbling thump makes the raven-haired head snap up once more. Through the small crack, Loki can see the distant figures wait and then bow before both outsiders are brought away by guards.

With his heart in the throat, Loki hurries along the passages back to the chambers to wait for his mortal’s return.

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felicia-cat-hardy · 3 years

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20 Asian American Musicians To Add To Your Playlist Now

Over the past several years, the K-pop industry in the U.S. has grown exponentially. The fan enthusiasm behind bands like BTS has drawn parallels to The Beatles, and so many K-pop groups have received the same passionate reception. The attention is well-deserved, but Asian artists represent a multitude of musical genres (even just within the K-pop industry) — a fact that should not be overlooked. Whether you're a fan of indie rock, R&B, hip-hop, or dance music, you won't want to sleep on these Asian American musicians.

Asian artists have recently received some long-deserved recognition in the entertainment industry, primarily in film. In 2020, Bong Joon-ho's Parasite won big at the Oscars. The following year, Youn Yuh-Jung won the award for Best Supporting Actress for her work in Minari, which also scored The Walking Dead alum Steven Yeun a nomination for Best Actor. However, there's still plenty of work to be done within the music landscape to ensure equal representation is achieved.

BTS, most notably, has seen unprecedented success in the U.S. Still, despite being invited to attend the last three Grammys, they've yet to take home an award, highlighting the discrepancy between their immense success and the Recording Academy's willingness to acknowledge it. Additionally, Asian artists have a harder time landing record deals. As American Idol alumni Paul Kim explained to The New York Times, he was blatantly told by industry execs he would have been signed to a label faster had he not been Asian.

By streaming these artists, you're not only supporting them and their art, but you're subsequently showing industry insiders just how valuable they are. Consider this list sonic proof Asian artists are making exceptional, diverse music that can't be boxed into one genre or sound. Each of these artists prides themselves on breaking boundaries and creating their own rules. You may have heard of a few, but many have been flying under the radar for far too long. Your ears will thank you soon enough.

Melissa Polinar

Polinar got her start in the late 2000s when viral YouTube covers paved the way for success. While artists like Justin Bieber and Lennon & Maisy were sharing music covers, Polinar focused on posting her original music — and her soulful vocals were a hit. In 2019, the Filipino-American songwriter actually re-recorded one of the songs that propelled her career forward, "Try," on its 10-year anniversary.

Eric Nam

Born and raised in Atlanta, Nam moved to Korea to pursue music because he felt he had a better chance of succeeding there. “Even if you look at American Idol, or X-Factor, or The Voice or anything, it was always difficult to see an Asian or an Asian-American make it to a certain point,” Nam told TIME in November 2019. Today, Nam is a highly visible and respected name in the K-pop industry. While he's very proud of his K-pop success, he considers himself a pop singer first. He hopes to grow his success stateside and told TIME, "I want people to hear my music and say, 'I don’t know who this person is,' and I could be Black, white, Latino, Asian — it doesn’t matter, but it’s just a great pop song."

Clinton Kane

Kane's got every making of a great singer-songwriter, and his lyricism will make a fan out of loyal Ed Sheeran or Sam Smith listeners. The Filipino-American singer's impressive vocal range captivates, and his emotion-driven lyrics will melt your heart. One of his more popular tracks, "Chicken Tendies," has upwards of 2 million views and is a must-add to your heartbreak playlist.

Jhené Aiko

As a mixed-race Japanese, Creole, Dominican, and European woman, Aiko has proudly championed her diverse roots throughout her accomplished career. The R&B singer is a six-time Grammy-nominated artist and is well respected within the industry for her philanthropic endeavors. She launched the WAYS foundation in 2017, an organization dedicated to helping cancer patients and their families.

Steve Aoki

Steve Aoki is hardly a newcomer to the EDM scene, but as one of the most prominent DJs in the industry, and one of the biggest Japanese DJs ever, it would be a crime to leave him off this list. Aoki even has his own record label and, in 2016, Netflix released I'll Sleep When I'm Dead, a documentary about his career.

Karen O

As the lead singer for the rock band Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Karen O has solidified her spot as a rock music legend. Not only is the Korean-American singer's discography with the band a must-listen for any rock music fan, but her 2019 album with Danger Mouse, Lux Prima, earned her a Grammy nomination for Best Rock Performance.

H.E.R.

Hailing from the San Francisco Bay Area, H.E.R. (aka Gabi Wilson) has become one of the most prominent names in R&B. At just 23 years old, the singer-songwriter already has four Grammy wins and 13 nominations. Along the way, she's never shied away from praising her Filipino mother and Black father, Agnes and Kenny Wilson, for giving her the unique perspectives that propelled her musical success.

Toro Y Moi

Toro Y Moi is actually one person (Chaz Bear) and he's become the unofficial king of chillwave. Born to a Filipino mother, the South Carolina native later relocated to California to further his music career. If you need some chill vibes on your playlist, Bear's got you covered.

Ruby Ibarra

Ibarra is a Filipino-American rapper from San Lorenzo, California who also dabbles in spoken word poetry. Her music is meaningful in more ways than one. A number of her songs touch upon her experience as an Asian American woman. In April 2021, she released a powerful song and video called "Gold" with Ella Jay Basco, which exposed the harmful effects of the skin whitening industry.

Ella Jay Basco

You may recognize Basco from her appearance in Birds of Prey, but her music is not to be slept on because it's making major waves. Her song "Gold" with Ruby Ibarra highlights her Filipino heritage. As she told People, "From top to bottom, we wanted to make sure that our Asian-American community was represented with this project."

Mitski

Meet your new favorite alt-rock queen. Mitski's dreamy melodies appeal to the indie-rock crowd more than anything, and, if you're a sucker for a sad bop, this Japanese-American songstress has plenty of those stacked up.

Yaeji

Yaeji was born in Flushing, Queens in 1993 and grew up between the U.S. and Korea. Since she moved around so much as a kid, she found friendship on the internet, where she first connected with the bossa nova, jazz, and Korean indie music that drove much of the Korean DIY scene. She soon returned to the States to attend college, where she discovered a love for producing and DJing. Now, she meticulously blends hip-hop elements with her house-driven sound for a listening experience that is unlike anything else.

Hayley Kiyoko

Kiyoko has been given the nickname Lesbian Jesus since she’s so outspoken about LGBTQ+ representation in the music industry. The Japanese-American singer is a true trailblazer and her pop music genius has landed her hits with Kehlani, MAX, and AJR.

Jay Park

Park is an industry heavyweight. The Seattle native got his start in the K-pop industry as part of the band 2PM, but he went solo in 2009. Today, not only does the star have dozens of hits under his belt, but he has two record labels of his own that specialize in R&B and hip-hop music: AOMG and H1ghr. Park uses his superstar status to give others the spotlight, and he's put his support behind other artists like GOT7's JAY B and Yugyeom, and Raz Simone. Whether you're a self-proclaimed K-pop stan, or you're just recently getting acquainted with the genre, Park's discography is required listening.

Jin Au-Yeung

Born and raised in North Miami Beach, Florida, the Chinese-American rapper, aka MC Jin, has some seriously impressive accolades under his belt. After becoming popular among his musical peers for his epic freestyles, he was signed to Ruff Ryders in 2002 at just 19 years old, becoming the first Asian American solo rapper to be signed to a major record label in the U.S. He's since parted ways with the label and now travels back and forth between the U.S. and Hong Kong, seeing success in both places. In May 2021, the rapper released a single called "Stop the Hatred" with Wyclef Jean to raise awareness about hate crimes toward Asian Americans amid the coronavirus pandemic.

Olivia Rodrigo

Rodrigo needs no introduction, but I'll do it anyway: This Filipino-American actress-turned-singer-songwriter's mega-hit debut single "drivers license" was unavoidable in January 2021. Its heartbreakingly relatable lyrics about a crush moving on with someone else struck listeners to their core and immediately soared to No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. It also went viral on TikTok, before making its way into a Saturday Night Live sketch. Rodrigo's songwriting skills have fans likening her to industry heavyweights like Taylor Swift, so it's no surprise her debut album, Sour, is one of the most highly-anticipated albums of summer 2021.

Run River North

Run River North is not just one musician, but three. The band formerly known as Monsters Calling Home is an indie rock band from Los Angeles. The group has an eclectic sound that draws inspiration from each member: Daniel Chae, Alex Hwang, and Sally Kang.

ZHU

When ZHU first entered the electronic music scene, he used an alias and remained anonymous. By 2014, the artist also known as Steven Zhu was ready to share his identity with the world. ZHU got his start in San Francisco, California, but has made his mark on the EDM scene globally.

Darren Criss

Criss rose to fame starring on the television series Glee and he's since proven himself to be a true triple threat. His work can be seen across TV, film, and music. In September of 2018, Criss became the first Filipino-American to win an Emmy in the lead actor category for his portrayal of Andrew Cunanan in FX's The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story. He’s also got several full-fledged EPs under his belt.

Amber Liu

Amber Liu (also known mononymously as Amber) is of Taiwanese descent and grew up in Los Angeles. She made a big splash when debuting as a member of the K-pop girl group f(x) in September 2009, but has since gone solo. Her 2019 solo track "Other People" racked up millions of streams, and she’s gearing up to drop her first album of 2021, called y?, very soon. In the meantime, she’s continuing to grow her superstar following on social media, where she has 5 million Instagram followers and over 2.3 million on Twitter.

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imagine-loki · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 54 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

I had a chapter ready for this but it just did not make sense in the overall story so I had to rewrite it. I apologise for the delay.

The amount of comments I have received this week have really fed my inspiration to get my ass in gear and write. Thank you for them. The more I get, the more I love to write.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Loki and Ella smiled politely as person after person walked towards them. All through it, Ella whispered the names of those who were coming towards them to ensure there was no chance of the Jotnar making a mistake and embarrassing themselves.

Her parents watched silently as their daughter and her husband dealt with the newcomers and different realms peoples. “They seem so alike.” Odin frowned at his wife’s words and looked at her. “They are like two dancers, working with one another in a peculiar melody. Look how Ella uses her seidr to speak with him, telling him who everyone is. Sh starts the conversation to make him feel comfortable, then he takes over. The care he is taking of her, look at how he checks on her.” Frigga studied the pair. “They have grown as beings. He cares for her now.”

“He has changed.” Odin acknowledged. “When I was last here, when our daughter nearly died, he looked like he would rather walk on fiery coals than stand near her.” “Now he seems to wish to be in her company and nowhere else.” Frigga watched as Loki beamed and indicated to Ella’s stomach, which was, much to Frigga’s dislike, being shown very obviously to be carrying a child. In Asgard and Vanaheim, women did not declare their pregnancy, they simply kept dressing as they did before but with slightly bigger shawls to cover them. Their hair was tied back off their faces, declaring their marital status but her daughter wore tighter more revealing dresses and her hair loose. She disapproved entirely of it all but seeing the Jotnar women, especially those who they were told were carrying children, they seemed to declare their conditions proudly. It was peculiar to her but seeing it to be commonplace, as a royal who visited many realms, she knew better than to comment on the cultures of other realms. She thought Ella would not be overly comfortable in such a situation, but looking at her daughter, it was clear she was entirely at ease with everything.

“If only it was like this from the beginning,” Odin sighed.

“They needed to learn who they are first. Together, they are growing.” Frigga smiled slightly. “We went through something similar, if you recall?” “I did not almost kill you.” Odin pointed out. “I did everything I could to make you feel at home. I ensured you had company when I could not be with you and I most certainly did not make you feel as though your mind was in such a dark place that it had your seidr trying to fight it only to have it fight your very existence.”

“Ella is not like any other, Odin. Her seidr is so strong. None other would have been so affected.” “That is not a valid argument for this and well you know it,” Odin growled. “Her seidr being so strong is all the more reason to be more careful of her.” “I know you want to keep her safe, but I fear that you forget, she is not the small little girl that loved sitting on your lap learning to play Tafl anymore.” Frigga pointed out. Odin grunted in annoyance as his response. “Is that what it is? That she has grown up? Is it making you feel old?” “Says she who was not entirely pleased to hear she is a grandmother because she thinks it makes her sound old?” Odin scoffed. “I am not angry she has left home. I prepared myself for such from the day Eir stated she was a girl, but everything that she has been through, everything we all have been through, and for to be so strong and for that to happen. She was born too early, her sickness, that attack on Svartalfheim…” “You will never forgive yourself for that, will you?” Frigga sighed, shaking her head. “You need to cease being so concerned about something that happened centuries ago.” “She pleaded to be trained and I dismissed it. ‘What reason would she have to know such things’ I said. She would never need it. If she had not been so proficient with her abilities with seidr, she would have been sliced apart. If she had not learnt spells to heal others, she would have died. I would have had to light my daughter’s funeral pyre. When she got ill as a child, I swore to protect her but I failed her and with him...I will never forgive myself, or him for that.” Odin shook slightly, remember the day he came to Jotunheim when Ella was so ill. “She has.” “She is a better being than I am, we established that years ago.” Odin growled. “I don’t want to hold it against him. He is, after all, young and the new leader of a realm we are closely tied to. The father of my grandchild but for what he did to her, even if I live a hundred thousand more years, I will not be able to forget.”

Frigga rubbed his arm soothingly. “We can continue to remember but we must also let go of the anger, we do not wish for it to consume us.”

Odin sighed. “Seeing the manner in which they look at one another now, the manner in which they reference that child. I find myself being reminded that my opinion on the matter is not relevant in most ways. I am only sorry that our grandson will be raised on another realm and not with us. Hopefully, Thor may see sense some day and settle down, be as levelheaded as Ella. Ever since we told her of the life she was to have, she accepted it.” He paused for a moment. “It will be interesting if she ever has a daughter.” “She is still carrying one child and you are thinking of her carrying another? What allegiance are you planning?"

“If you think that he will allow any allegiances to take place by such means, I fear you are entirely mistaken.” Odin scoffed. “Any granddaughter she gives us will not be used in such a manner. I am merely intrigued to see how they would consider dealing with any who suggest it.” Odin’s chuckle at the thought of Ella tearing some poor being asunder was cut short as he watched someone come close to his daughter and her husband in a manner he thought untrustworthy.

“Odin?” Frigga noted the change in her husband’s demeanour. Odin simply waved his hand slightly to tell her not to distract him as he focused on the being walking towards them. When Frigga looked to where his eye was focused, she sighed. “Oh, Norns, what is he doing here?”

Odin recalled when Thor informed them of what happened at Ostara on Vanaheim, his jaw clenching as he did so.

* When Ella noted who was coming towards them, she groaned internally.

Immediately, Loki noticed her apprehension, so he looked for the cause of it by following her line of sight, his own humour becoming sour as soon as he saw who had entered the hall. He leant towards Ella slightly. “Ice daggers and your throwing knives at the same time?” He suggested.

“Tempting, very, very tempting.” She responded lowly before standing stoically once more as the grouping came up to them. “Prince Nigel.” She bowed slightly.

Nigel looked at her with a smirk. “My dear cousin, I see you are fulfilling the role of royal wife to the best of your ability.” He indicated to her stomach. “You are well and truly of this...domain now, it seems.” “Jotunheim is my home, so it very much is a domain I am happy to be a part of. With regards to my pregnancy, I am very fortunate to have been given a partner worthy of such a name which makes the process of carrying his child far more pleasant than can be assumed for others. How is your wife, actually? I have not seen her since you arrived.”

Loki found himself biting the inside of his cheeks as he chuckled at Ella’s blatant comments. He noted the other Vanir with Nigel were clearly thinking similarly.

Nigel however, did not see anything amusing. “She is at home in the Vanir palace, as is her place since declaring ones promiscuity to the realm is something not to be encouraged.”

For a moment, Loki, Ella and the Jotnar around them, including Helbindi and Byleistr thought the Vanir royal to be joking, but the less than impressed look on his face as he glared at Ella’s stomach told them that he did indeed think such, resulting in more than one scoff. To her own shock, Ella was able to stifle her own laugh. “Norns, I was not aware a woman in a relationship, be she be married or otherwise was promiscuous should she come to carry a child, what with it being the sole purpose of the act of coitus.”

“You would, of course, take offence, as it referencing your own position, Cousin. None like to think themselves to be socially besmirched but your condition, the manner you present yourself, clothing and hair-wise, it only declares one thing, a lack of mortality and promiscuity.”

Ella licked her bottom lip before cocking her head to the side slightly. “So pregnancy in a faithful relationship is promiscuous to you, Nigel?” He nodded. “How? Explain it to me.” He said nothing. “Do not give a statement as fact if it is not such. Tell me, in layman’s terms, how a woman, who is loyal to her partner, who partakes in consensual relations with him resulting in a child is akin to what you call a ‘whore’. I am only so curious to understand your logic on this matter, please, allow us to see as you do.”

Nigel stood open-mouthed for a moment. Well….” “And what of the father’s of these young? The sires that breed them with their partners. Are they tarred with this brush also or is it simply us women that get so cruelly smeared as unclean, I am curious?” The look in his eyes told her his thoughts. “So your wife is a slut and you are pure? Oh, you silly little boy.” She stood in close to him. “You are very brave voicing such ludicrous claims in public. I would recommend not saying such things on this realm, Nigel, you will do yourself no favours. None will be too swift to stand by you as you say them. You and I both know who the many would side with on this, on this realm, Asgard, Vanaheim, Alfheim and such or do you recall how your cowardice through the war is viewed through the realms?” Nigel’s eyes darted to the side. “Oh yes, I heard of it, even here, and not from a single Jotnar, for they wanted to save me the shame of having one such as you a blood relative. When my brother and my mate sweat, bled and fought for the realms while you hid like a little bitch, a ‘ickle precious princess hiding behind excuses as to why he could not fight when the truth is there are poultry in a farmyard red in colour, that lay eggs and are called hens that are less chicken than you are.” She hissed. “I am not a whore and unlike you, my existence actually matters so get your filthy, misogynistic crap out of my sight before I make it that this coronation ends with your funeral and I will make it look self-inflicted or like an accident, as you plummet to your death for ever even considering insulting me, my mate and every female on this realm and so help me, if you even look like your considering scoffing at the females of this realm for their attire or for how many are currently celebrating carrying a child I will castrate you painfully for even thinking about thinking to laugh, I swear on the Norns themselves.”

Nigel flinched and backed away slightly, glancing to Loki as he did.

Loki, for his part, sneered openly. “I can see what you are thinking, ‘how could I let her act like this, act like she is in charge, does it make me less male to do so’. It does not because I will physically hold you down as she does it.” He hissed. “If you dare start trouble on our realm, you will bear the brunt of the consequences, I can assure you. What you did, trying to hurt us on Vanaheim for Ostara to get a reaction, this is not Vanaheim and you hold absolutely no power here and if one word of what was said as your warning so much as makes it outside of this and we will know and we will not take kindly to you rushing to your father or brother to defend your honour, Little Girl. You want to be a tough guy, I am right here, try it but I warn you, I am not in the mood for your petty behaviour and I can guarantee, one utterance of anything resembling ridicule for my realm and my brothers, my allies, Prince Thor and even his friends will stand by my side as I deal with you.” “You cannot say such things,” Nigel stuttered.

“It seems he just did.” Nigel turned to see a grinning Thor. “Run along now, Nidge, Ella’s patience are wearing thin and none here can stop her, you know that.”

Nigel scarpered quickly from their presence.

“It’s rude to threaten your guests with castration, Ella,” Thor scolded.

“It is rude to call your host a promiscuous whore also,” Ella argued.

Thor, who had not been privy to that part of the conversation was forced to concede it was true. “That was brazen on his behalf.” He watched as Helbindi laughed and Byleistr stared worriedly at his sister. “Just do not do it in front of everyone, it may cause some to lose their dinner.”

“I’ll try, but I cannot promise anything,” Ella smirked before eyeing their parents watching from a balcony close by. She merely smiled at them before going to greet another who had been so rudely delayed in doing so by Nigel’s prolonged time with them.

* “She gets that from you,” Frigga commented to Odin.

“I never threatened any man’s appendages.” “The manner in which she spoke, not what she said,” Frigga verified. “Thank the Norns she was born a girl. She is too vicious.”

Odin said nothing of an instance that came to his memory when Frigga carried Thor where she all but swore to obliterate the building if one courtier did not cease staring at her in a manner she thought to be unacceptable. Looking at his daughter as she went back to smiling and being polite, he feared what would happen any that thought to insult Jotunheim while her husband was king.

#Loki #others #submission #Submitted fic #Pride and Prejudice #chapter 54 #wolfpawn

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anomitafics · 4 years

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When The Heart Beats || [2]

WHEN THE HEART BEATS || Levi Ackerman X Reader CHAPTER II

The rich aroma of tea filled the comfortable wood panelled office, yet it wasn't enough to ease the stress within Erwin's mind and somehow he can't voice out the things he planned to tell to the waiting woman infront of him.

"So you're telling me, you called me here just to remind me to take care of my own squad? Just who do you take me for mr. Smith?" both hands resting on her hips the dark eyed woman smirked.

"Those three aren't your normal cadets (Y/N)." the blonde said in a low voice still trying to find the words he needed to express his thoughts.

He wanted to let (Y/N) know about the plan he has in mind and how those three are planning on killing him but words won't seem to form no matter how hard he tried.

"They aren't, I was able to see with my own eyes. I see now why they aren't placed in Flagon's Squad, they'd be a total ruckus." the female said as she stood from her seat.

"Well if that's all then I better head out now, I still need to introduce them to Sairam." taking Erwin's nod as her que to leave, the [c] haired woman left his office heading to her own.

Opening her door, the figure of a charcoal haired male cleaning around greeted her.

"Oh perfect timing Sairam!" the latter swiftly dropped the broom and gave (Y/N) a salute.

"How many times--"

"Captain." the serious male interrupted letting the female know that he's not going to stop doing the said deed at any moment.

Laughing at how serious her only left squad member was she gently patted his hair.

"You sure did matured allot haven't you?"--sitting herself on her newly cleaned table she gazed down to her feet--"though I'm not quite sure why you still have some respect towards me."

"A soldier's loyalty is always with his Captain."

"A captain who tends to always get her team wiped out?" she laughed out.

"One dies because of his own stupidity."

Silence filled the room as soon as those words left the soldier's mouth. Sairam who was soon to be aware of the weight of his words instantly regretted it, once again opening his mouth to murmur an apology his squad leader stopped him from doing so.

"You're too serious Sairam~" she cooed as she grabbed Sairam's cheeks and pulling it on both sides "you should smile more!" startling the young man.

"Y-yes!" he stuttered saluting.

"Now, why don't you call those three so that we can start our little meeting." jumping from the table, (Y/N) spun Sairam around making him face the door.

Sighing softly the male started to walk towards the door.

"You act too much like a child sometimes Captain... I don't get it." he softly said closing the door behind him.

Now left with no one but herself the [c] haired female did a few stretches after walking towards the wooden cabinet near her table.

Opening one of the drawers, three plain white handkerchiefs stood out.

Isabel

Farlan

Levi

Each embroided with three names.

"So these three underground thugs will be placed under my command?" the dark eyed female asked.

"You've recently lost your other squad mates, we can't have you going to expeditions with only one member, it's only right that they will be placed under your care." Erwin explained making all members of the meeting nod their heads in approval.

"Alright then." complying, the meeting was finally adjourned.

One by one stepping out of the room, a certain blonde pulled (Y/N) over to one corner.

"Erwin...? What's wrong?" she asked staring into his light blue hues.

"Those handkerchiefs you make for your squad members." he started but was interrupted as (Y/N) saw Hange waiting for her little meeting with the blonde be done.

Waving her off, Hange jumped exasperately smiling giving her two big thumbs up in the process.

Laughing at Hange's childlike antics, (Y/N) faced Erwin once again displaying a small smile. "What about it?"

"Don't give them to those three." came his command making her smile drop replacing it with confusion.

"What? Why...?"

"They aren't your normal cadets, they'll be gone before you know it."

"Erwin?"

She was still so confused about those words until now but that won't stop her from doing her own little tradition.

Remembering different reactions from her late cadets had been enough inspiration for her to be squeezing up some embroidery into her busy schedule.

"Those three aren't your normal cadets."

'They sure aren't!'

Almost allot of the new recruits wished to be placed under her squad as soon as those who were bragged about the small gift, it wasn't everyday that you get something from your squad leader.

There was one time when it made a such a huge fuzz to the point where some recruits chose to join her squad while training leaving their own captain behind, making them need to conduct a meeting for the issue.

"You better stop giving them those (Y/N)." their Commander, Keith Shadis started.

"What? Can't you see how happy my squad is? And after all that's the only way I can repay them for their loyalty and dedication Commander!" she justified.

"Yes your squad is happy but the others are getting envious!"

"It isn't my problem! Why don't you just let them make their own stuff for their own squad to be happy?" Erwin placed a hand on the woman's lap telling her that she's getting kind of overboard.

"I'm sorry Commander." she muttered dropping her gaze on the table.

"Not everyone has the luxury of time to do embroidery (Y/N), and not everyone knows how to." the commander said.

"I understa--" the calm and silent awra of the room was suddenly interrupted by an excited shriek from non other than Hange.

"----IEEEEEEHHH! I must propose something!!! What if... we give them things like... Titan Hair!!!" came her hyper proposal, making everyone stare at her in disbelief and commander giving her one long lecture about her so called 'sadistic mindset'.

The meeting was adjourned by settling that the young captain were to continue giving those little gifts but only in secret.

Laughing, (Y/N) made a mental note to remind the three of keeping it as a secret.

Her train of thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her wooden door, muttering a small 'come in' the door opened to reveal her three newcomers.

Farlan and Isabel looked as carefree as ever scanning through their captain's office, while Levi on the other hand looked as damned as usual.

Levi refused the urge to scan the woman's office yet kept a mental note of how it didn't smelled as rotten as he thought.

"So I trust Sairam was able to introduce himself along the way?" the [c] haired lady asked breaking the silence, the wondering eyes of Isabel and Farlan now focused on her.

"Yeah! He's the only one left of your squad!" Isabel carefreely said.

"Isabel!"--Farlan warned the strawberry haired female the latter only staring at him confused--" I'm sorry.. She didn't mean it that way..." the ash blonde haired male explained.

Laughing as if it wasn't really of a big deal she urged the four to sit along with her on her small meeting table.

"I'll just go get some tea... Sairam, if you'd mind." the female said now heading to her small kitchen.

"Of course Captain!" the male said as obedient as always.

This made Levi intrigued to what exactly their pathetic excuse of a squad leader was. For this man who calls himself Sairam seems to respect her greatly.

"You three are called here so that we'll get to know each other, most squads don't do these kinds of stuff but Captain prefers doing so." the black haired cadet explained shortly.

"What? Isn't it a waste of time? We especially Levi-bro need to take some rest y'know! And besides we already know each others names!" Isabel said making Sairam furrow his brows at the insensitive female infront of him.

"You're always free to leave if you don't want to." the male said and this made Levi tick.

"Huh?" Levi's cold voice made Sairam back away from the strawberry haired female yet never removing the furrow on his brows.

Isabel smirked in pride "That's Levi-bro for you!" she yelled.

The room was filled with an awkward silence that neither of them were comfortable of, until the front door suddenly flung open revealing an excited looking brunette.

"(Y/N)~~!!!" she sang loudly running inside only to see her corner deserted, looking around she was greeted by the four members of her friend's Squad.

Hange's eyes slowly grew wider as Sairam only placed a hand on his forehead shaking his head softly, the three noticing this snapped their head back to the hyper brunette infront of them only to see her smiling creepily now.

"IIIIIIIIIHH! So you're doing THAT now! As expected from (Y/N)!!!" she shrieked as the three looked at her with different unreadable expressions.

"Alright Alright Alright! I'll be heading out for now! You four enjoy! Don't forget to tell your leader I came by!" and as soon as she came had she also left as if nothing had happened.

Sairam finally lifting his head from his hands he spoke again.

"Then... I should... probably tell you more about the Captain." this time there were no interruptions from the three.

"The Captain is the most kind and considerate out of all squad leaders,"-- pausing to each eye the trio he once again opened his mouth--"you three are indeed very lucky to be in her squad, allot had begged to be in it."

"I've been with her since the beginning and could tell you everything about her but I believe it's her job to do so, therefor I'll only tell you how the Survey Corps see her as a leader and as a comrade and the things the she surely won't tell you but is essential to be able to understand her."

"As to why many of the recruits wish to be placed in her squad, you'll understand later. However, I was aware of how poorly you have treated her but I do understand why, you see... I've also felt that way in the beginning, it's her being a woman isn't it? You're concerned by how she'd be able to protect?"

This made the Levi hope that the male infront of him would somehow ensure that the woman was capable of doing so.

"And though Captain Hange too is a woman, our Captain tends to act more delicate and feminine making it look nearly impossible for her to handle a squad, am I right?"

Farlan and Isabel dropped their gazes in agreement while Levi stared straight into the male.

"Tch, damn right you are. Now tell me, is this Captain capable of handling one or not?" he angrily questioned, Sairam, taking note of how insulting the title came out of the stoic man's lips clenched his fists tighter under their sight as if to control himself.

"Captain (Y/N) is always ready to sacrifice herself for anyone and when I say anyone it doesn't matter how worthless you are, I know for I've seen her do it multiple of times."

"If so, then why had she lost her entire squad?" Levi asked still doubtful of the latter.

He doesn't only want to ensure his two companions' safety under her wing but also know just how much loyalty this soldier had for the woman captain.

"Great leaders take blame and pass along credit."

END OF CHAPTER 2 ANOMITAFICS

When The Heart Beats Masterlist <----------CHAPTERS HERE!

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #erwin smith #hange zoe #farlan church #isabel magnolia

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