#but then i changed it so that they all get stranded when asha is a bit older so she knows who [redacted] is personally | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

annymation · 3 months

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Fun facts about “Kingdom of Wishes” characters

I’m bored, so have some random facts about the characters from my wish rewrite!

Random picture just cause I like to have eye catching pics as “thumbnails” for my blogs and also I can totally see my version of Asha making this pose.

Anyway, if you haven’t read my Kingdom of Wishes- A Wish Rewrite then this post might not make much sense, feel free to read it anyway though, there’s no spoilers.

On to the fun facts!

Asha✨

Asha sometimes sits hunched over when she's drawing. Her friends constantly have to remind her to keep her back straight otherwise she'll get a bad posture.

After Simon gave away his wish and became… Well, sleepy, she had to become the voice of reason in their group, the big sister in a way, since she was now the eldest. She wasn’t that good at leading before though so she left most of it to Dahlia.

Asha's favorite color is purple, obviously, and she dresses in purple for her birthday, however, her second favorite color that she also wears often is orange.

She's not very good interacting with kids, believe it or not, of course she likes kids, but she has a hard time knowing how to play with them.

Asha did meet the king in person ONCE before her 18th birthday… I’ll leave it at that.

Aster 💫

Aster is canonically the star Lacaille 8760

Picked this one because it looks like he’s boxed up in the middle of other brighter stars that make up the Microscope constellation, and yeah there is a microscope constellation and it’s straight up just a square. He’s one of the nearest stars to the Sun, at about 12.9 light-years' distance, however his light is so faint it’s almost impossible to see with the naked eye.

2. Aster’s eyes can see what people desire, more clearly if he holds the person’s hand, like an empath, but even without touching the person he can see what they want, but only if he focus, and the way he sees it is like words surrounding the person.

3. I said this once in a ask but I’ll say it again, I see Aster and Rapunzel’s powers as connected, not that all Disney movies are connected with KOW, but Tangled at least is pretty close. So, Rapunzel got her powers from a sun drop, right? Well, the sun is a star, we can assume she has star powers. My point is that if Aster was to sing the Rapunzel’s healing song they’d glow and heal any injured person around, and make the elderly younger, Magnifico sure didn’t know that though because if he did he’d just do what Gothel did and lock Aster up.

4. Aster could hear Asha reading stories with Sabino every night, and that’s one of the many ways they became interested in human culture.

5. Aster often annoyed some stars by complaining that their constellations didn’t look like what humans called them as, like the Cetus constellation doesn’t look like a sea monster, or the Leo constellation didn’t look like a lion, even though the stars had no control over how humans saw them as and they couldn’t change their positions in the sky.

Magnifico 🫧

Magnifico could look younger if he drank his wife's rejuvenating potions, but they taste horrible and every time she drinks them (Twice a year) she screams in agony like her insides are burning, only to then turn to him with a smile and ask "Want some, my love?" and he just replies with "... Thanks dear, but I think I'll stick with my skincare routine."

Most of his "passionate king" persona he got from copying his brother's mannerisms, after all, his father always said he should be more like his little brother.

He kinda hates that little hair strand coming out on his forehead, but no matter how much hair gel he applies on it, the hair strand always comes back... Also his brother had an identical one.

Kings and queens in Rosas usually don't wear crowns, as the culture is for them to feel close to the people, not above them. However, Magnifico gifted Amaya with a tiara, that has a red garnet on her forehead, red garnets are associated with love, passion, and desire, but it has also been known to represent other things such as courage, strength, and protection. Basically he gave her a lucky charm. He also gave her the sash with the drawing of a moon she wears on her waist, it used to be his when he was a prince.

I can’t for the life of me decide which one of these Magnifico would wear to sleep:

I can see him wearing either of them. Same for Amaya.

Amaya 👑

1.Amaya pretty much had to teach Magnifico how to be a likable figure. I implied it a little bit in the story with Magnifico saying stuff like “Well, I did have the best teacher” to Amaya after he made a little acting scene on chapter “When Blue Turns Green”. Point is, before meeting her Magnus was pretty much an antisocial, reclusive prince that avoided even being seen in public. For him to become the larger than life, enthusiastic king we know in the story he and Amaya had to practice his social skills a lot, think of it like Belle teaching the Beast proper manners, Amaya changed him… But for the worst.

2.Like I explained on her backstory, Amaya is from Greece, and she committed some very serious crimes over there. So every time Rosas receives visitors from Greece Amaya puts on the hood of her cloak over her head during the wish ceremonies. It’s kinda funny, any other wish ceremony she looks normal, but whenever Greek people are around she goes:

3.I imagine some fun shenanigans must have happened over the years with Amaya’s potions going wrong, like she tests it on a rat and it turns into a giant rat running around the castle, or she mislabels the potions and drinks one that turns her into a worm 🐛 so Magnifico gotta prove he’d love her even if she was a worn and turn her back to normal.

4.Amaya is kinda like the moon in this story, because the moon doesn’t shine every night, in some phases the moon is barely visible, just like how Amaya is most of the time more in the background while Magnifico shines like the sun, but, when it IS her time to shine, just like a full moon, she outshines Magnifico himself.

5.She likes to feel comfy, she often walks around the castle with no shoes on most of the time but no one can tell because of her long dress.

Aaaand that’s all I got, hope you guys like this additional content, might inspire some fun asks hehe 😜

Thank You For Reading!

#wish rewrite #wish reimagined #kingdom of wishes #disney wish #wish 2023 #disney #wish movie #wish #wish disney #wish star

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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owillofthewisps · 4 years

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beckoning light - part one

notes: i saw the witcher once and immediately couldn’t leave this alone. i know nothing about anything save for the netflix show and even then, who knows. but i am nothing if not self-indulgent. this will be two to three parts. it was supposed to be one but i’m incapable of shutting the hell up.

rating: teen on the edge of mature, i suppose.

pairing: geralt of rivia/female reader

word count: 4,309

the wisps have never lead you astray, but you did not expect them to lead you to him.

There is a light in the forest.

It is not a torch beyond the branches, you know. The light doesn’t flicker and undulate the way a consuming fire would, and it’s soft at the edges, like gleam of the moon streaming through the clouds. It is a familiar sight.

Dusk has not yet fully descended; there is a glow to the sky still, a kiss of orange and pink against the encroaching night.

The light in the forest moves, an odd sort of bobbing motion, and you heave a sigh. “No,” you tell the wisp, as though it can hear you from inside your home. The wisps have spent many an eve dancing at the edge of the clearing, just peeking out from behind the trees and beckoning, but you have no qualms with letting them be lonely sometimes.

The wisp - one of the bigger ones, heavy with light, like the rounded belly of the full moon - pulsates. You pause. It pulsates again, more rapidly this time.

“Fuck,” you say, and scramble for the trousers you’d left draped over the bed when you’d changed for the night. You pull them on as quick as you can, not bothering with a real shirt, just haphazardly tucking in the nightshirt you’re wearing. You make fast work of your boots as well, tugging the well-worn leather up over your bare feet, knowing it may well rub your skin raw.

Your cloak, your dagger, they fall into place in a whirlwind of movement, and then you are out in the chill of the settling night. Asha plunges out of the small garden by your home - half-wild, the sighthound is loathe to come inside while there is still light in the sky and you suspect she’s been harrying the partridges nesting in the back of the clearing - her powerful haunches making quick work of catching up to you.

Together, the two of you hurtle into the forest’s edge, dipping around saplings and tangles of old, old roots. The wisp flitters in front of you, darting along the path that only it knows, and you follow as best you can. The forest floor is slippery still, though the last rain was a few days ago, but you have long learned to keep your balance. Here and there, as you draw close to it, the wisp drops out of sight, and your stomach always drops with it as the forest goes dark around you, barely lit by what dying light filters through the canopy. Then the wisp flashes to life ahead of you once more, marking the path.

You are panting by the time you break into the clearing that the wisp is hovering in. You take in the horse, docile now, but with hoof prints all around it that indicate she had been wildly frightened earlier, and see no rider. The wisp flutters beyond the clearing, weaving and wavering.

“Stay,” you tell Asha. You do not need to tell her to guard; she settles near the horse, her muscles rippling with barely contained energy. You slip out of the clearing.

It is not long before you find the rider. His white hair shines almost silver beneath the light of the wisp, marking his place even though he is tucked into a small hollow between the roots of one of the large trees. He has managed to drag his large frame partially upright, but his eyes are closed, and there is a great gash across his chest, blood flowing from it in small pulses. From the pale sheen of him, he has been losing blood steadily.

“Shit,” you mutter. “Shit.” In your flurry, you had neglected to take even the most basic medical supplies. You are an idiot twice over, you suppose, but nothing can be done now.

You settle onto the roots he is propped against, and as you reach for him, you register the brute power of his form. He is built formidably. Formidable, however, has never deterred you, and there is often softness to be found beneath it, no matter how slight. You are intent on gauging his wound - this close, you can see that it is nastily edged, flesh torn ragged instead of cleanly cleaved from a sword’s edge, and you hope that he has left a corpse in another part of the forest, because you could not defend against something able to do this - and just before your fingers rest against his skin, he moves.

He catches your wrist. His large hand encircles your wrist entirely. The grip is strong, just on the edge of bruising. In spite of the situation, you flash upon what it would be like to have that large hand between your legs, prising your thighs apart - because, as Hadrian often tells you, you are shameless - before you glance up to meet his gaze.

Ah, you think. Hello, Witcher.

“Live or die?” you say, your voice mild.

His brow - gleaming with sweat, with patches of blood and dirt rubbed into his skin - furrows. His grip tightens.

“I cannot help you without my hand,” you tell him. You wiggle your fingers at him, the very tip of your middle finger brushing against his leather armor.

He considers you for a moment, those amber eyes keenly picking you apart, and then drops your wrist.

You shrug off your cloak. It’s a poor replacement for supplies, but it is all you have. You fold it until it is a decently thick square, and press it against the gash. The Witcher’s chest heaves, but only a small hiss of breath indicates the pain. You wrap your hand around his. Gently, you press it to his chest, to the rudimentary bandage you’ve created. “Hold it as tightly as you can,” you say, even though he has done so from the moment you placed his hand there.

For a moment, you think you see a gleam of something cross his handsome, stoic face. It might be irritation, and you cannot help the smile that flickers to life across your lips.

“Asha,” you call quietly.

The hound breaks through the brush with a bound. The Witcher tenses at the noise, but you lean to the side just enough that he can see her. Once he knows what has made the sound, his golden gaze returns to you. This evaluation is different. You pay it little mind as Asha noses against you, her blocky head pressing against your side, the warmth of her seeping through your thin shirt.

“Get Hadrian,” you murmur. She perks up, her tail wagging. You click your fingers twice, and she slinks into a predator’s pose once more. “Go.”

Asha takes off like an arrow flying from a bow. You return your attention to the Witcher and place your hand over his, adding your own strength to the pressure against the wound. He grunts. It’s a gravelly sound, reverberating through his chest. His hand is warm underneath yours, but he shifts his hand lower after a moment, out from under your touch. You do not comment, only push your own hand higher to give him more space from your skin.

“Can you stand, Witcher?” you ask. You are not sure what you will do if he cannot; you are not strong enough to get him to the horse alone, let alone on top of it.

He takes a moment. “Maybe,” he grates. His voice reminds you of river rocks tumbling against each other.

You pull back from him. “We’ll try.” True night is coming, settling over the forest like a blanket, and you know that you are running low on time.

If the Witcher has thoughts about your use of we, he doesn’t indicate it. You’re not sure he indicates much. Still, he does not protest when you slide deeper into the hollow with him, shuffling against his side and lifting his arm so that it drapes over your shoulder. He’s chilled against you. The blood loss, you think. You aren’t sure how he’s survived this long.

“Fuck,” he says as you push to your feet, his fingers tightening on your shoulder. He’s heavy. Despite his wound, he carries a good bit of his own weight. You can feel his powerful thigh flexing against you. You brace him with everything you’ve got, winding one arm around his waist, careful to avoid the tail end of his laceration. The movement seems to open the wound again, blood blooming in crimson patches through your cloak. He presses harder against the fabric. You think you hear another curse tumble from his lips.

Between the two of you, you manage to stagger back to the clearing. His horse nuzzles against him as you draw close. The Witcher’s fingers flex on your shoulder. You pat at the mare’s neck with one hand.

Getting him up on the horse is a struggle. By the end of it, your nightshirt is sticking to your skin, wet with sweat. You shiver in the night air. The Witcher looks worse for the wear. You suck at your teeth, trying to decide how best to ride with him. He’s broad enough that you would have difficulty peering around him, but his fingers had been clumsy as you had tried to get him on the horse. He may not be able to keep a good grip on you. Still, it seems the better option. You keep a hand on him as you mount up, wary of the slight sway of him.

“Hold tight,” you warn him. “And do not dare fall asleep on me.”

He grunts an acknowledgement. His arms wrap around you - you think you hear a hiss of pain - and if the strength of him is diminished by the wound, you cannot tell. The band of his arms is steel around you, his fingers biting into the flesh of your hips. It should perhaps hurt, but it does not bother you.

The wisp flits back into view as you gather the reins. The Witcher is leaning heavily against you now, his chest flat against your back, a solid wall against you. You can feel the wet of his blood starting to soak through. His breath stirs against you, warm and slow. You can just see a few strands of white hair flowing over your shoulder.

The wisp bounces forward, and you guide the horse after it. She’s a nimble thing, placid and unbothered by your inexperienced guidance as you try to learn the rhythm of her. The wisp floats near, just beyond you in the distance. Always guiding. The light stirs the Witcher into straightening in the saddle.

“A wisp?” he rasps. One hand comes free from around your waist. He reaches for the reins, but you evade him as best you can. He can’t quite manage to get the reins. That large hand envelopes your wrist instead. A weaker grip than earlier. Something you might even be able to shake off if you tried hard enough. “You cannot mean to follow.”

“I can and I do,” you say.

“If you wanted me dead,” he says dryly, “you should have just left me back there.”

“The wisps have never lead me astray.”

He grunts, reaching for the reins once more. “They never lead to anything good.”

“They lead me to you,” you say.

That gives him pause, you think. His grip on your wrist loosens. You are more and more aware of the spreading damp against your back. You spur on the mare. The wisp picks up its pace as well.

He is leaning heavily against you once more. You try to glance back at him, but with his form draped over you, it’s hard to make out his face. To see if his eyes are open or shut.

“Do not sleep,” you say.

He grunts.

“I mean it.”

He does not make another noise. You jostle him as gently as you can, and are rewarded with another grunt.

“If you’re going to sleep, Witcher,” you say, “you had best give me your name so I know what to put on your tomb.”

He shifts against you. “Geralt of Rivia,” he finally says.

You blink. Oh, you think. Even you know that name.

“I’d say it’s a pleasure,” you murmur, after giving him your own name. “But I do hate to lie.”

He huffs against your back.

You talk at him over the pound of the mare’s hooves. He is quiet the whole time, save for a few gravelly hums, but he shifts behind you when you speak to him, and you use that to your advantage. If he sleeps, you know, even Hadrian might not be able to save him. You talk at him until the horse breaks through to the forest’s edge. The wisp burns out once you can see the gaps in the trees. It has done more than its part, you know, had flared bright enough to hurt at a few points along the path, something you have long thought might be an odd form of protection for something lurking beyond your sight.

Getting Geralt off the horse is as much of a trial as getting him on was. Still, you manage it and stumble through the door with him. You settle him upright, so you can look at his wound in the light shed by the fireplace. He grunts. He’s wan in the firelight, sweat beading on his brow. You loosen his armor as best you can around the cloak before you have to peel it away. He winces when you do, but only a bit of blood wells in the gash.

Geralt’s chest is as broad as the rest of him. In another setting, you think, you would be glad to map it out with questing fingers. Instead, you scoop water from the bucket by the hearth with a wooden cup and kneel before him. You flush the wound out carefully, sending rivulets of watery blood running down his chest.

“Fuck,” he grits out.

You pay him little mind, using cup after cup of water until the wound is clear of dirt and debris. The water runs pink down your arms, dripping from your elbows to dampen your trousers as well.

Your touch is careful but firm. You can feel those eyes on you - golden and molten in the dancing firelight - as you do not shy away from him. You keep your fingers off the raised shine of his scars, focus only on the sundered flesh.

There is little you can do beyond rinsing the wound. Healing is not your strength, and not for the first time, you consider that you should learn more. You have salves that Hadrian has gifted you throughout the years, but you often forget which is what, and you know that some of them have more poisonous aspects that you would not want on an open wound. You gather a clean nightshirt and fold it. Like your cloak, you lose it to Geralt’s wound, as you press it into place over the cleaned gash. The blood is less now, but with the amount he might have lost, you would like there to be none.

This time, you do not bother to tell him to hold it in place. He presses it hard against the wound. His chest rises and falls more heavily now, and you wonder at how much pain he is enduring.

“Here,” you tell Geralt, handing him a wooden cup, this water scooped from the cauldron by the fire. “Drink.”

He drinks deeply. You retrieve the cup when he’s done and fill it once more, this time with ale. It will help with the pain, you hope.

“You chose an unusual way to get a woman out of her clothes,” you tell him. Honestly, it’s a miracle that you hadn’t needed to peel off your nightshirt in the woods. He pauses mid-swallow before gulping the mouthful down. Still, you think he is amused, think it shows in the softening of his tight fist, think there might have been the slightest tilt to his lips. You wonder what it would take to make him laugh.

Asha bays outside. You get to your feet and stride to the door. The hound comes barreling in when you open it, her tongue lolling. She stops at the sight of Geralt, but her hackles stay down, so you turn your attention to Hadrian.

“Your hound,” he says to you, stepping through the door, “is a menace.”

He pauses, then, likely because Geralt’s blood has crept around to the front of your nightshirt on the ride, staining the fabric crimson.

“Shit,” he says, taking you by the forearm, already pulling at your shirt to get to the wounds.

“Stop,” you tell him. You manage to catch your shirt just as he starts to slide it off your shoulders.

“How much blood have you lost?”

“Hadrian. It’s not my blood.”

His hands go still against you. He lets out a breath that sounds perilously close to a whimper. “Good,” he says. “Good.”

“Hadrian.” You nod towards Geralt. The Witcher has his eyes closed, his head back against the side of your bed.

“Hell,” Hadrian says, his quick eyes already measuring the length of the cut and the shallow breaths of his patient. “Alright.”

Geralt’s eyes flicker open as Hadrian takes your place in front of him. The other man recoils, just slightly, at the sight of those amber eyes. From the way Geralt’s mouth pulls, it is a familiar reaction.

You pay little attention as Hadrian sets to work. Asha presses against you. She is dirtier than usual, dust collecting in her deep brown fur. You sigh and nudge her to come outside with you. You glance up at the doorway, and Geralt’s eyes are on you. Hadrian swipes a salve over the cut and the Witcher’s jaw tightens. His head tilts back once more. His neck is a thick column, and you consider what it would be like to set your teeth against it with his hands firm on your hips, holding you down on his lap.

Asha whines and you step through the door. You leave it cracked despite the chill of the night air. The fire warms your small house quickly enough. “Come here,” you tell Asha. You brush your hands through her coat, shaking as much of the dust loose as you can.

It takes longer than you expect. Hadrian is a careful healer, you know, and the wound had been severe, but you find yourself biting your lip as the moon climbs higher in the night sky. You busy yourself by taking care of the horse, who shies away for only an instant before letting you care for her. When you see Asha circling, ready to curl up on the dirt, you return inside.

There’s a little more color in Geralt’s face now. He is still wan and has a sheen of sweat covering him where he is not swathed with bandages, but Hadrian’s brow has smoothed out of the pinch it had gathered into when he’d laid eyes on the Witcher.

Though you are almost silent as you enter, the Witcher’s eyes open, his head rising. His eyes flicker down for a moment, and you realize that in the chill night air, your nipples have tightened into peaks, just visible under the thin nightshirt. He meets your gaze steadily when his eyes return to yours.

Hadrian’s grey eyes dart to your chest too, but that is much more commonplace. You cross the small room to peer down at Geralt. Even seated, it feels like he towers over you, but you have lived too long at the edge of the forest, where the trees dwarf even some of the largest of creatures. “Live it is, then, I suppose?” you ask him.

“So it appears,” he says, the slightest tilt at the corner of his lips. You wonder if the blood loss is why he seems to find you amusing.

“You’ll take him back to town then?” you ask Hadrian.

The healer shakes his head, picking at his long black braid with nervous fingers. “He can’t ride yet.”

Geralt makes a noise that expresses his clear disagreement with that assessment.

Hadrian quails a bit in the face of Geralt’s thunderous brow, but he rarely backs down when it comes to recovery. “The wound will open again. You need to limit movement. In the very least for the night, if not longer.”

“I can ride.”

You heave a sigh. “I did not drag you out of the forest so you could manage to kill yourself in a quest to return to a small town.”

The tendons in Geralt’s jaw flex.

“Do you need to stay?” you ask Hadrian. It could be foolish, you know, to stay alone with this strange man, but the wisps would not steer you wrong. You think. You hope.

His eyes flicker between you and the Witcher. When Asha shifts in her place by the hearth - even curled up, she is a solid, barrel-chested beast and wounded as he is, you do not think Geralt could stand long against her - drawing his eyes, he huffs out a breath.

“No,” he says. “The bandages should hold. But I will come first thing in the morning.”

Geralt, you notice, has leaned his head back again. His eyes are closed, his white hair spilling over the coverlet like a fresh snowfall. Except not quite, since the forest hollows are not the cleanest, and there is grime streaked throughout his locks.

“Up,” you say with a sigh, bending down to levy him to his feet. Hadrian bends with you, thankfully, as you’ll likely need his strength as well. “Let’s at least get off the top layer of grime.”

Geralt comes to his feet with a grunt of pain, and then you have to press against him as he sways. Hadrian braces him from the other side. “‘I can ride,’” you scoff under your breath - from the look you get, Geralt hears you just fine - before handing off most of Geralt’s weight to Hadrian.

You strip off the rest of the Witcher’s armor methodically, undoing the ties nimbly as you find them, sliding the studded leather free. He watches you steadily as you work, his gaze unwavering as you touch him here and there. Much of the grime is contained to the leather, luckily, so you leave his trousers in place.

Geralt takes the dampened rag from you when you offer it. As he wipes some of the sweat and dirt from his neck and face - Hadrian keeps him balanced with a healer’s detachment, only sharpening his gaze when a noise that could be pained issues from Geralt - you finish a few of your nightly chores.

The Witcher settles onto your bed. The frame creaks under his weight, but it’s big enough for him with some room left over.

“If you’re leaving, you should go,” you say to Hadrian. “It’ll soon be too late to even travel the main road safely.”

He glances between you and Geralt, those nimble fingers plucking at his braid once more, but nods. You bid him farewell at the door.

Geralt watches as you take the rag he’d used and dip it back into one of the buckets. You wring it out a few times, until the water is clear again, and then sling it over your shoulder.

“I would ask if you’re always this quiet,” you say to him, “but I think I already know the answer.”

“I would ask if you always talk this freely,” he says, “but I hardly think you need a question to keep talking.”

“The price of my inn is that you must hear me chatter as I would if you were not here.”

He grunts. You bite down on your smile.

You strip off your nightshirt - it’s gone stiff with blood now, crackling unpleasantly as you pull it over your head - without a care, though you’re turned just enough that he cannot see the entirety of you. You run the rag over yourself, wiping away the remnants of the forest and of his blood, the water soothing against your skin. Gooseflesh prickles at your skin as the air brushes across your damp skin, cooling you.

The bed creaks. “Do not bleed on my bed,” you warn, glancing over your shoulder at him. Geralt has turned to better face you, propping himself up on his side. You can see the bandages straining across his muscular chest.

“You cannot expect me to not turn towards such a sight.”

You pull on your shift before padding over to the bed. It is your bed, and you will sleep in it, whether he is there or not. “You have a neck,” you remind him. “I hear they turn. Without the risk of opening a dire wound.”

He grunts. It’s clearly his most fluent language. He turns onto his back when you push lightly at his shoulder. The bed creaks under you as you put a knee up on it. You consider swinging your other leg over him, to straddle his thick thighs, but there’s little point in tormenting yourself. Instead, you peer down at the expanse of bandages.

There’s no blood blossoming, so you assume the wound has not opened once more. Geralt is pallid in the dying firelight, the embers’ soft glow doing little to hide the effect of the blood loss. His eyelids keep fluttering open and closed, long, sooty lashes dark against his skin.

Still, he drags a finger over the crease of your hip as you climb over him to get to the remaining bedspace. Through the thicker material of your shift, his touch is almost ghostly. You sink into place between him and the wall.

“Sleep, Geralt of Rivia,” you say. “And let us see what the morning brings.”

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine #story: beckoning light

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secondgenerationnerd · 4 years

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“ You’re the best friend and lover any partner could ask for.”

So I’m going to use Speeddemon and make this one a follow up to this request. As always enjoy!!!!

——

Damian’s head reels as he walks down the hall. His father’s distrust of metahumans isn’t unknown to him. But he had hoped that Bruce would accept Irey. His throat tightens in, vision blurring. What is he supposed to do? He opens the door to Irey’s room—well, their shared room with their newborn daughter’s nursery in the walk in closet— to a beautiful sight.

“Shhh...it’s ok, Lightning Bug. Mama’s here. I got you, sweet pea.” Irey walks around the room, holding their baby against her shoulder. Asha squirms and fusses in her mother’s arms. A few strands of Irey’s fiery hair fall from the messy knot on her head. One of her ratty science t-shirts and a pair of old running shorts. Kind green eyes watching their daughter calm down as her mother’s movements soothe her. “See? All better now. Mama won’t ever let you feel scared all by yourself. Never never.

His throat tightens again and tears rolls down his face. He disappears into their en-suite bathroom, trying to catch his breath. His father called them necessary risks. Asha and Irey are expendable to his father. Not to him. God, not to him.

“Damian?” Irey leans against the door frame. He knows she sees the tears on his face. She reaches for one of the baby wash clothes laying on the counter top. After running it under water, she kneels in front of him. Her gentle sure hands wipe his tears away. “It wasn’t your fault. I need you to say it, Damian. It wasn’t your fault.”

He remembers the night he had her say that for the first time. The way her body had wracked with sobs, gasping so violently for air he wasn’t sure if she’d ever breathe again. He pulls her close, burying his face in her neck.

He’s not sure why, be he always feels safe like this. His face pressed against her soft skin while she rubs easy circles on his back, not letting her arms drop for a moment. There are a thousand apologies on his tongue but he doesn’t let any of them out.

When he finally stops shaking, she kisses his face softly, murmuring against his cheeks, “I love you. I love Damian Wayne, Damian al Ghul, and Robin. I always know I’m safe when you’re with me.”

“I wasn’t here when you needed me the most.” He hangs his head in shame. Irey makes him look at her.

“You’re the best friend and lover any partner could ask for.” Irey kisses him gently. “You make me feel brave enough to be vulnerable. You make me feel tough enough to take on anyone who stands in my way. You love our baby more than anything and I know you’re going to be an amazing Baba to her.”

“My father wanted—“

“I don’t care what Bruce Wayne wants. What do you want, Dames?”

What he wants is what he gets. Irey’s back resting against his ches, him watching her breastfeed Asha. Irey’s low singing washes over him and the baby. His eye lids start to droop.

“Gonna love all the versions of yourself that you'll try. Let you go through your phases, cheer you on from the side; And the sweetest thing is just knowing that you've got love...From the short, short list of the people in it for the long haul.” Irey isn’t sure if she should laugh or cry at how sweet her boyfriend and their daughter look when they’re sleepy. She shakes her head as she continues. “Now, see, your clothes your shoes and your best friends—They ain't gonna stay the same. Your reckless years and your mistakes I promise you, they fade away. But trust me, the one thing that nothing in this world can change-Hey, you and me will be always...Always, you and me will be always”

“Always.” Damian mumbles into her shoulder. “Always.”

#irey west #damian wayne

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im-in-every-fandom-cuz-im-alone · 5 years

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DANNY PHANTOM FAN CAST

Danny Phantom premiered on Nickelodeon in 2004 in a time when life seemed much simpler. All my seven year old self had to worry about was finishing my homework fast enough so I can spend the rest of the day watching cartoons. Now as an adult not much has really changed there's just less book reports and division. The past couple of years have been all about remakes, reboots and nostalgia ploys. It seems Hollywood has found away to make easy money by preying on our desires to relive our childhoods. Well I say if we're going to be emotionally manipulated, why not bring back a cult classic like Danny Phantom.

While coming up with a potential cast I struggled with whether or not to cast actors who actually look 14 or pull a Riverdale and cast 20 somethings who look like abercrombie models. I ultimately chose to do both where in the series would start with 14 year old danny than flashforward to modern day to an older danny and his friends in college. Alternatively we could start with an older cast and periodically flashback to their youth with both storylines coming together in the end to reveal a bigger mystery.

(also I changed the Fentons ethnicity to latinx so this is not race bending)

MAIN CAST

Danny Fenton/Phantom

Isaak Presley / David Castro

It's been a little over a decade since defeating Vlad Plasmius and saving Amity Park. Danny has become a worldwide superhero sensation while also juggling college and spending time with his girlfriend Paulina. Sam and Danny had broken up after sam notices shades of Dark Danny in his behavior. (dont worry they're endgame we just need some drama)

Sam Manson

Sadie Stanley /Kelli Berglund

After the break up Sam refocuses her efforts to converting ectoplasm into sustainable energy. She hopes that with this seemingly Infinite source of energy she can stop the effects of climate change before our Earth is damage any further. Working on her masters in bioengineering as well as providing tactical support for The Banshees, sam may have bitten of more than she can chew.

Tucker Foley

Caleel Harris / Spence Moore II

Mayor Foley when not working on his campaign for governor he is calling every political favor he can to keep Danny's increasingly aggressive tactics from creating an international incident. All while maintaining a secret relationship with his head of security Dash Baxter

Jazz Fenton

Elizabeth Elias/Marianly Tejada

After a falling out with her brother Jazz decides that the world needs a more level headed hero. She forms the Banshees with Valerie Gray, a ghost hunting super team of bad ass ladies. Members include her mother Maddie, Valerie Gray, Dani and occasionally Sam Manson.

Jack Fenton

Ricardo Chavira

Although present in flashbacks Jack Fenton has been missing for three years in present day. This is the inciting incident that leads Danny down a dark path. "Where is Jack Fenton?" would be the overarching mystery of the series.

Maddie Fenton

Felicia Day (honestly who else)

Distraught over her husband's disappearance Maddie grapples with her alchohol addiction and fear of what her son is becoming. Though battling demons of her own this doesn't stop Maddie from hunting down ghost with The Banshees.

Vlad Masters/Plasmius

Julian McMahon (again who else)

Years in the harshness of space gave Vlad plenty of time to reflect and atone for his sins. His return to earth as a pacifist rubs danny the wrong way. With good reason Vlad good guy act is all a ruse to get revenge on the Fenton family. His plans are rendered moot when he realizes that the disappearance of his old friend has already broken the family. (Possible affair with Maddie Fenton you know for the drama)

RECURRING CAST

Valerie Gray

Marsai Martin/Asha Bromfield

Leader of The Banshees shes one of the few ghost hunters who's popularity rivals that of Danny Phantom, often being seen as the batman to his superman. Haunted by the disappearance of Jack Fenton, Valerie is the last person to have seen him alive. With no recollection of what happened that night or how she ended up stranded in the ghost zone will she ever shake off the overwhelming feeling of guilt.

Dash Baxter

Christian Weissmann/Wolfgang Novogratz

Having mellowed out with age Dash now uses his skills has head of security for Amnity Park's Mayor Tucker Foley. After spending year struggling with his sexuality Dash has finally accepted his identity as a gay man, but will his relationship with his boss force him to go back in the proverbial closet.

Paulina Singh

Saara Chaudry/Soma Bhatia

Using her status as Danny Phantoms girlfriend Paulina has become one of the most followed influencers in the world and with her Bachelor's degree in marketing has made herself into a very lucrative brand. Behind the scenes Paulina's being manipulated by an unknown figure to get Intel on Danny and the other Ghost hunters.

(I changed Paulina last name from Sanchez to Singh to match my choice of actress)

As you probably may have noticed through the Snippets of each character description Danny will eventually become the villain of the series. it will be up to the rest of Team Phantom to take him down, but will they be able to save the friend they once knew and loved. If you enjoyed this article please give it a like or comment and if you didn't, comment what you didn't like. I'm also working on an all ghosts cast list as well as a Ben 10 fan cast cuz I have no life.

#danny phantom #nickolodeon #ghost zone #fan cast

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redrikki · 4 years

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Miscellaneous Fandom Fic Masterlist

The 100

Born to Float - Octavia became a criminal with her first breath. Some people are just born to float. (Octavia Blake, Bellamy Blake, Aurora Blake)

Post-Apocalyptic Ethics 101 - Collection of dribbles & short stories. (Bellamy Blake, Clarke Griffin, Marcus Kane, Jasper Jordan)

Coin Operated Boy - The things John Murphy does to survive. Tag to 3.10. Trigger Warning: RAPE. (John Murphy/Emori, Murphy/Ontari)

Battlestar Galactica

Persephone on New Caprica - It’s winter on New Caprica and they’re all Persephone here. A collection of short stories. (Gaius Baltar/Caprica Six, Felix Gaeta/Eight, Kara Tharce/Leoben Conroy)

Four Loves (The Canoodling on New Caprica Remix) - Three loves which died on New Caprica and one which flourished. Remix of Canoodling & Conspiracies Oh My! by raktajino. (Maya & Isis, Diana Seelix & Jammer, Boomer & God, Laura Roslin/William Adama)

The Broken Earth series Seismic Shift - Schaffa tells himself he will stop if Eitz says no. This one will be allowed to say no. The boy says nothing at all. (Schaffa, Eitz) WARNING: Child Sexual Abuse

Dark Angel

Tricks & Treats - Joshua and Alec go to a party. Joshua eats little hot dogs and is diverting. (Joshua, Alec, Rita)

Another Day at the Office - Insert zombie apocalypse. (Alec, Original Cindy, Normal)

Pooka Boo - Maybe Ben’s hallucinations started out random and fluffy too. (Alec, Max, Logan, Original Cindy, Pooka)

Dollhouse

Ms. Lonelyhearts - Adelle knew Victor was a lover at heart. (Adelle Dewitt/Victor, Sierra/Victor)

Downton Abbey

The Hedgehog’s Dilemma - “Mind my spikes.” Five warnings, four relationships and one revelation. Daemons AU. (Thomas Barrow/Duke, Thomas & Sara O'Brien, Thomas/Edward Courtney, Thomas/Jimmy Kent)

Bluestocking Girl - Four books which didn’t change Edith’s life and one letter to the editor which did. (Edith Crawley, Crawley family)

Snakes & Lions - In Thomas, Jimmy finds that courage isn’t exclusive to Gryffindors. Now if only he could find some himself. Harry Potter fusion. Part one of Houses Alike In Dignity (Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent)

The House Elf and the Lioness - “Honestly Sybil, he’s practically a house elf,” Mary exclaimed when she caught them kissing in the stacks. Harry Potter fusion. Part two of Houses Alike In Dignity (Sybil Crawley/Tom Branson, Mary Crawley)

The Owl & the Son-of-a-Squib - Matthew Crawley is quite shocked when an owl swoops down and drops off a letter which changes his life. Harry Potter fusion. Part three of Houses Alike In Dignity (Matthew Crawley, Isobel Crawley, Violet Crawley)

The Dragon Prince

Dragon Scales - Collection of short tumblr prompts. (Rayla, Callum, Ezran, Amaya, Soren) You Fight Like You Practice - Callum’s never been good with a sword, but the right teacher can make all the difference. Two lessons, two teachers, and one real fight. (Callum, Soren, Rayla) The Talk - Rayla and Callum finally talk about what happened the night of the assassination. (Rayla, Callum, Ezran)

Firefly

Firefly, In Brief - Collection of short stories and dribbles. (Firefly crew)

Will to Be Well (The Psychosomatic Remix) - Studies on the efficacy of acupuncture are inconclusive but, if River believes hard enough, learning the art might make her better. Remix of If I Could Will You Whole by Spiralleds (River, Inara, Jayne)

Harry Potter

Have to Start Somewhere (The Words to Rebuild Remix) - This diary belongs to Ginevra Molly Weasley and no one else. Remix of Words to Build by Elennare. (Ginny Weasley)

Interstellar

Eureka Moment - The night she solved the equation, Murph had unprotected sex for the first time in her life. (Murph/Getty)

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell

Requiescat in pace - In which Jonathan Strange discovers that returning the dead to their natural state is more difficult than he would imagine. (Jonathan Strange, dead Neapolitans)

Miraculous Ladybug

Intrepid Reporter - Alya won’t let a little thing like danger stop her from reporting the truth. (Alya, Marinette, Nino) Better Than Ice Cream - Orange, mint, and raspberry could be a tasty combination. The solution to every love triangle should be polyamory, but sometimes it’s just not that simple. (Marinette, Adrien) St. Athanase Day - Adrien and Marinette’s beret the second time around. She forgets the card but still signs her work. (Adrien, Plagg) No Sleep Til Hawkmoth - An overly-caffeinated revelation helps narrow Alya’s search for Hawkmoth (Alya, Marinette, Adrien, Nino, Chloé)

Misfits

Good Housekeeping - It’s been months since his mum kicked him out, but at least Nathan hasn’t sunk to sleeping under the flyover. He’s got a good thing going at the community center and means to keep it. (Nathan Young)

The (Non)Haunting of Nathan Young -And to think he’d scoffed when Simon had tried to warn him. Everyone you love will die. What a laugh, right? Christ, he’s been such an idiot. (Nathan Young/Kelly Bailey)

Pushing Daisies

Li'l Gumshoe - Young Penny Cod was nine years, two hours, and forty-three minutes old when she found the book which changed her life. Like hundreds of other little black girls who would encounter Li’l Gumshoe, she felt as though it had been written just for her. The difference was, Penny Cod was right. (Penny Cod, Emerson Cod, Lila Robinson, Pie Hole gang)

Orphan Black

Portrait of the Artist as a Young Girl - There’s something magical about Uncle Felix’s flat. Maybe it’s all the art. (Kira, Felix, Cosima)

Devil’s Trap - Helena and Grace have a lot in common. (Helena, Grace)

Despite All My Rage - Rachel is still just a rat in a cage. So much for self-directed evolution. (Rachel, Aldous Leekie, Ethan Duncan)

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Shadow Over Mystacor - After Shadow Weaver’s attack on Mystacor, Adora just wants to relax, but that’s hard to do when it’s all her fault. (Adora, Glimmer, Bow)

Parting Strands - Looking out for each other had been their thing, but Adora’s starting to suspect that’s over. Her thoughts during that scene in “Promise.” (Adora, Catra)

The Good Soldier On the sliding scale between perfect soldier Adora and useless malcontent Catra, Lonnie was closer to the Adora end of the spectrum. How the hell had Catra made Force Captain before her? Catra was just going crash and burn and Lonnie? Lonnie would let her. (Lonnie, Catra, Team Horde)

She-Ra (Modesty) Shorts - Adora/Catra shorts written for the 3 Sentence Ficathon. (Adora/Catra)

A Song of Ice and Fire

The Return - Robb sends Theon home to Pyke. If you think this has a happy ending, you haven’t been paying attention. (Asha Greyjoy, Greyjoy family)

Stranger Things

Smurfete Principle - There can be more than one girl in the party. El and Max work things out at the Snow Ball. (Max, El)

Stranger Side of the Force - While watching Star Wars, El notices she and Vader have a lot in common. (El, Mike, Max, Lucas, Dustin, Will)

It Lingers - The Mind Flayer is gone, but El can still feel it clawing underneath her skin. (El, Joyce, Will, Jonathan) Date Night - Everyone and her mother seems to think they’re together and Robin’s getting pretty sick of it. (Robin, Steve, The Party)

Temeraire

Epistolary - Dear Lady Allendale….yours, etc., Emily Roland (Emily Roland)

Umbrella Academy

Heroes for Ghosts - Eudora waits for Diego and things at the hotel go very differently. (Klaus, Diego, Ben, Eudora, Hazel, Cha-Cha, Ghosts)

Peanut Butter and Marshmallows - Stuck in the apocalypse, Five reads about Vanya leaving him sandwiches. (Five, Delores)

Iconic - When Vanya learns Klaus is gay from an article in a teen magazine, she’s upset for more than a few reasons. (Vanya, Klaus) Feed Your Head - Three shitty things young Klaus did for drugs and one thing they did for him. (Klaus, Reginald, Grace) When Evil Rains - Umbrella Academy shorts (Klaus, Diego)

Voltron: Legendary Defender

Players Only Love You When They’re Playing - Coran kept staring at Romelle like she was walking miracle, but Allura couldn’t look at her without thinking of Lotor and his betrayal.

White Collar

Eyes on the Target (The Solid Ground Remix) - Peter asked her to keep an eye on Neal for him while he’s stuck in jail. It could be going better. Remix of Keep Your Feet on Solid Ground by frith_in_thorns. (Dianna Berrigan, Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke)

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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gffa · 6 years

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One of the best things about STAR WARS fic is that there’s almost always something for someone, whether you want something plotty or more time travel, whether you want to cry about how sad Leia Organa’s life is or revel in how strong she is despite it all, whether you want to dive all the way back to the prequels or if you’re here for the sequels, whether you’re here for the big name characters or the more minor characters that fandom will try to flesh out, there’s going to be something that appeals. It’s one of the reasons I’ve stayed as long as I have, because something will appeal, no matter my mood! Sometimes I want something more hopeful, sometimes I want something that will break my heart, sometimes I’m tired of one era or just more hyped for another. I appreciate that fic helps further the world of the Saga, beyond just the story of Anakin Skywalker! I appreciate that sometimes it still really, really is about him! I appreciate that there’s fic that appeals to my shipping heart, I appreciate that there’s fic that appeals to my gen-loving heart, I appreciate that there’s so much variety that it seems next to impossible to get bored with Star Wars, not when I have so many new branches that fandom will help me explore! STAR WARS FIC RECS: TIME TRAVEL RECS: ✦ Let’s Try This Again by Nny11, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, time travel, 11.7k wip Anakin’s life is shaken up when he finds a small togrutan toddler hiding in a dingy alleyway, after all, she did create a Force bond with him and is apparently his future Padawan. Wizard! ✦ In Time by Ripki, obi-wan & anakin & cast, time travel, 27.1k As the Clone Wars drags on and the secrets between them grow, Anakin and Obi-Wan have begun to drift apart. When a mysterious holocron sends them through time, they don’t only have to confront their past and future – but the present as well. ✦ A Future in Crisis by WolfMarauder, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & & padme & cast, 7.6k wip Ahsoka has a vision that may change the course of the future. She just needs to keep her master from falling, keep his wife from dying, and the Jedi Order from dying out… That’s all. The first step is returning the the Jedi Order and she finds she has more friends than she thought. ✦ Palimpsest by PorgParty, ben & obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cast, time travel, 21.5k wip Kylo Ren, newly-crowned Supreme Leader of the First Order, finds himself flung back through time to the era of the Clone Wars. He decides to capitalise on this opportunity and insert himself into the life of his beloved grandfather Anakin Skywalker. Together they will rule the galaxy with an iron fist. Unfortunately, Kylo has never been very good at being evil. ✦ Old Man Luke by scarletjedi, obi-wan & anakin & luke & leia & ahsoka & asajj & cast, time travel, 41k wip Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?” He asked, hoping a direct question would yield answers. The old man seemed adept at side-stepping information when asked a bit more deftly. “I’ve never heard of a Master with your level of talent.” ✦ Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) by Rhiw, obi-wan & cast, time travel, 6.4k wip The life of General Kenobi is cut short at the hands of his Padawan, but the sight that greets his eyes upon awakening is not that of blinding light of the Force, but the Jedi Temple he knew when he was still a youth. As he struggles to understand the path laid out before him, Obi-Wan unwittingly captures the attention of a singularly unusual Temple Guard, and that of a reluctant Qui-Gon Jinn. ✦ Rewind, Repeat by tulomne, obi-wan/satine & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 23k And just like that, Obi-Wan Kenobi dies. But death is just the beginning, he realizes as he wakes as he once was, Padawan braid and all, alongside Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Satine Kryze. Visions of the future, just out of his grasp, plague the young Jedi as the three traverse the galaxy, avoiding the dangers that follow the Duchess of Mandalore. PREQUELS RECS: ✦ Domo Arigato, Mr Roboto by amarielah, anakin & sam & dean & cast, crossover, 13.7k When Sam and Dean investigate a spate of Vader sightings in a remote Wyoming town, they discover that – this time – they’re hunting the real deal. Vader, meanwhile, has to adjust to a world that seems designed to piss him off. All while trying his best not to strangle the Winchesters. ✦ The Living Force; Parables for Padawans by glorious_clio, obi-wan & cast, 6.1k Since infancy, younglings are taught the Jedi Code, “Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.” Obi-Wan Kenobi learns these tenets backwards and forwards again. But even as a child, he is interested in nuance. And so his teachers tell him parables. ✦ The Great Galactic Politics Mess-Up by iomccoy, obi-wan & anakin/padme & dooku & mace & cast, 6.8k wip Obi-Wan Kenobi asks Count Dooku if he actually has any evidence. He does. It gets messier from there. ✦ A Future Unlived by AlexTirZeng, obi-wan & katooni & cast, 1.8k Just because a war was on didn’t mean people didn’t dream of a future; if anything, it made them long for what would come after. Obi-Wan was no exception. He’d hoped to see Anakin raise Ahsoka to knighthood. He’d hoped to take another padawan of his own. ✦ Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, obi-wan & anakin & mace & cast, 31.2k wip Let us consider the fact that the Jedi Order is a monastic religious organization based out of a temple, with five basic tenets of faith. ✦ Lessons Learnt by Sweven, ahsoka & kit & cast, 2.4k As a kid, Ahsoka struggled with many things. Sometimes you just need someone to lift you up and give a word of encouragement. ✦ The Ryloth Excursion by Icarus_is_flying, obi-wan & ahsoka & cast, 2.9k After a surprise Separatist attack, Ahsoka and Obi-wan find themselves stranded on Ryloth’s plains. Now master and padawan must work together to make it back in one piece. ✦ Duet by Silver Sky 1138, oc & cin, 2.3k Asha Scarsi, the Jedi Padawan who feels the Force through music, isn’t half as good at lightsaber combat as she is at singing and mindtricks. So she’s a little nervous when Battlemaster Cin Drallig calls her to the training room after class. ✦ Luminous Spirits by Pandora151, obi-wan & ahsoka & cast, 5k Ahsoka and Obi-Wan, before and after everything changes. ✦ a choice made and made again by Sweven, obi-wan/satine & qui-gon & cast, 4.1k A glimpse into the year on the run ✦ We Have Lost by ReneeoftheStars, barriss & luminara, 1.9k It has been a long time since Barriss Offee was imprisoned for bombing the Jedi Temple. Not one to break, she has survived it. One day, she receives an unexpected visit from one she thought long gone from her life. ✦ The Sisters of the Little Kindness by ambiguously, ahsoka/asajj, NSFW, 4.4k Ahsoka isn’t alone as she goes into hiding. ✦ The Talk by B_Radley, shaak & ahsoka ( & background barriss/ahsoka), 1.9k A Jedi Master gives someone else’s Padawan The Talk ✦ The Only Home We Know by ReneeoftheStars, katooni & petro & ganodi & byph & gungi & zaft & cast, character death, child death, 2.4k The Jedi Temple is under attack. Determined to fight for their home, younglings Katooni, Petro, Zatt, Ganodi, Byph, and Gungi make their way to aid the Jedi Masters in defense of the Temple. But the situation is far graver than they expected. ✦ Darkest before Dawn by AceQueenKing, padme/mon mothma, 2.3k “I want my babies,” Padmé whispered, leaning into Mon’s shoulder. Mon tightened her grip on the younger woman, trying to reassure them both. Padmé, glorious flower of the Senate, was wilting fast in her arms, and it scared her, scared her more than she’d like to admit. ✦ Departed by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & vokara & bant & dooku, character death, 3.1k One was too late; the other was taken too soon. ✦ Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Lady Friend by Sulis57, obi-wan & anakin & rex & cody & boil & waxer & cast, 3.2k Anakin Skywalker just wants a quiet night at home by himself. Unfortunately, a group of unexpected visitors arrive bringing a potentially destructive acquaintance into Skywalker’s home. ✦ The Probability of Failure: The Mother by B_Radley, shaak & obi-wan & cast, 1.8k A huntress and Knight struggles to find peace in the wake of devastating loss. Several beings attempt to help her. ✦ Or has time rewritten every line by ambiguously, anakin & ahsoka & kaeden, 4.1k Ahsoka gets a message from an old friend that leads her to an older friend. ✦ Flickering Sunlight by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin/padme & cast, 1.5k In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin comes to a decision. OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, sith!obi-wan (sort of), d/s, 95.9k During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone. ✦ Little Moments by darlingamidala, obi-wan/anakin/padme, 2.8k This is a series of obianidala-focused drabbles, prompts, and shortfics. ✦ WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE by anecdotalist, obi-wan/anakin & bail & ahsoka & cast, 30.1k wip War has broken out between the Republic and the Separatists. But that is of no concern to Ben, one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy. All he’s focused on is his next target…until he’s invited to a tournament of hunters on Serenno. There, he meets a young Jedi Knight—the Hero With No Fear, Anakin Skywalker—who’s disguised as bounty hunter Rako Hardeen. ✦ Unmoored by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, ~1k In every world Anakin and Obi-Wan will find their way to each other, but this time it just might be too late for both of them. ✦ within us, through us by allourheroes, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, ~1k The Force is everywhere. Obi-wan helps Anakin understand. ✦ a spring haze by bell, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 3.2k Obi-Wan kisses Anakin back because he believes in him. ✦ Three Bodies In Orbit by rainglazed, obi-wan/anakin/padme, 4k A collection of ficlets and drabbles I’ve written for the obianidala suggestion blog, now posted to AO3 for easier viewing. ✦ These Three Remain by shadowsong26, obi-wan/anakin/padme, 27.5k Immediately after the Festival of Light (and Obi-Wan’s stint undercover as bounty hunter Rako Hardeen), Anakin and Padme leave Coruscant on impulse, in response to an anonymous tip sent to Padme’s office about vital intelligence hidden in a cache of stolen goods. But things go terribly wrong, and they find themselves stranded and injured, with limited resources and no one knowing exactly where they are. ✦ Intently by zarabithia, obi-wan/anakin & cast, 2.2k Five times Anakin thought about kissing Obi-Wan in order to distract him. ✦ Tumblr Prompts by Darlings (FromDreamstoEmpires), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, human au, 1.4k (for this chapter) A collection of prompts that I’ve filled on Tumblr. ✦ Satisfying Victory by zarabithia, obi-wan/anakin/ahsoka, nsfw, time travel, 3.4k The Force gives and Ahsoka takes. (Or, Ahsoka goes back in time and is totally going to fix everything. But there’s another order of business to attend to first.) ✦ untitled by themoosejthm, obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, toys, 2.3k Anakin whimpered as he lowered himself onto the toy, his eyelashes fluttering and his toes curling. ✦ Soft now by Gondolin, obi-wan/anakin/padme (pre-ship?) & cast, 3k Luke and Leia saved the galaxy before they were even born, Obi-Wan saved them and got aggressively adopted by the Naberrie-Skywalker family. Bonding with dads (plural, yes, Obi-Wan) is important and Padmé needs a nap. ✦ Addictions by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, human au, mafia au, 3.4k A Sith AU with three-piece suits: Ben is a “negotiator” for the mafia and Anakin his faithful, frightening enforcer. ORIGINAL TRILOGY RECS: ✦ In Which Vader Discovers He is a Father by glompcat, anakin & luke & leia & cast, 27.7k A collection of (mostly self-contained) AUs where Vader learns about his kids earlier than he did in the canon timeline. Exploring both that moment of initial discovery, and the way the story unfolds after Vader finds Leia and/or Luke. ✦ The Princess Who Remembered Her Name: An Alderaani Faerie Tale by glorious_clio, leia & cast, 6.3k “Once upon a time, there was a kind and clever and courageous Princess,” Bail begins his favorite story, and Leia is excited to share this with him. She goes through her life with the story in her mind, and tries not to read too much into it. ✦ The Hermit’s Son by landsail0r, obi-wan & luke, 1.2k AU where Obi-Wan raises Luke. ✦ Hope is a Four Letter Word by laniew1, obi-wan & luke, 3.2k wip Obi-Wan’s life is simple; he wakes, he eats, he meditates and on some mornings he watches Luke (or the Obi-Wan raises Luke instead AU). ✦ may you inherit his light by notbecauseofvictories, anakin & leia & bail, 2.5k In this, as in many things, Leia is her fathers’ daughter. ✦ for the hint of a spark by egelantier, luke & leia, 5.1k This is the gift she wants - her brother, her valiant brother, and the word is sweet on her tongue - and the price she doesn’t want to pay, the legacy she doesn’t want to accept. Her father’s body is burning, and she’s glad. ✦ How to Be Dead by victoria_p (musesfool), obi-wan & anakin & padme & luke & leia & han & rey & cast, 2.7k You lose everything. You give up. REBELS RECS: ✦ Untitled Rebels Fic by Mirror and Image, zeb/kallus & cast, 11.6k Kallus, on Yavin IV, sees a Lasat that isn’t Zeb. Things go as expected. ✦ Eidolon by Mira_Jade, han & hera & cast, 4k Captain Solo and General Syndulla, on the subject of shipcraft, idealism, and love. In no particular order. SEQUELS RECS: ✦ Of Worth by celeste9, rose & poe & bb8, 1.4k After Rose assists BB-8 with repairs to Poe’s ship, she gets an unexpected thank you. ✦ What They Grow Beyond by rain_sleet_snow, rey & anakin & cast, 7.1k The war is spluttering to a halt, and Rey goes to Tatooine to build a lightsaber. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE!

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #obikin #obianidala #ahsoka tano #luke skywalker #leia organa #shaak ti #mace windu #asajj ventress #fic recs #star wars fic recs

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asha-the-viking · 5 years

Text

Asha and Ander’s Wedding

Takes place 1050 on Haligan Island. Here comes the fluff.

“I… I’m beautiful.” Asha said, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She reached up her hand to touch one of the delicate blue flowers that was in the flower crown that had been placed on the top of her auburn hair.

“Yes you are,” Grey replied. “As always.”

“You’re pretty, Mama!” Little Siri agreed.

Asha smiled down at her dark haired little daughter. “Thank you, darling. So are you.”

Siri giggled. She was wearing a new, beautiful dress as well, and her hair had been done in an intricate braid.

“But especially today! You’re absolutely glowing!” Warren exclaimed.

Grey smiled at her friend and her daughter. They were adorable together.

Asha blushed. “I can’t believe that I… I’m getting married!”

“Aw, you’re too cute, Asha.” Warren replied, fixing a strand of her friend’s hair.

Grey smiled and took the hand mirror from Asha’s hands. “We’re very excited for you. For both of you. I can’t wait for Ander to officially be part of our little family.”

“Little?” Warren snorted. “Definitely not,”

Grey laughed. “Okay, you’re right. But honorary member of the Boomerang Squad then!”

Asha laughed too. Greg and Warren had married each other, which meant that there were no extra additions they brought into the family, well except for little Lila, their daughter. And Grey, as lovely and sweet as she was, had yet to find someone herself. Grand total of the Boomerang Squad, including spouses and children after the wedding would be seven- Grey, Greg, Warren, Asha, Siri, Lila, and Ander.

Asha wondered where Ander was, what he was up to, what he was thinking. His mother was probably fussing over him, wherever he was. The thought made her smile. His mother was a wonderful lady. She would be part of the family now too.

“I… never thought I’d get married.” Asha admitted.

“No? Why not?” Warren asked.

Asha shrugged. “Ever since my father passed away, since my mom changed… I never thought I’d find anyone who loved me. Not friends or romantically.”

“Well, you sure did. Everyone here loves you.” Grey responded, giving Asha a tight hug.

“Especially Ander,” Warren added. “He adores you. You and Siri both.”

Asha smiled brightly. “I can’t wait to be with him forever.”

“He’s a good man, Asha.” Grey replied. “Congratulations,”

A knock sounded on the door, and the women turned to look at it, as if they could see through it.

“It’s Greg,” said a voice on the other side. “And Lila.” Warren went to open the door.

“Mama!” Lila cried, reaching for Warren from Greg’s arms.

Warren laughed and took her daughter into her arms. “Hello, beautiful.”

Greg smiled at the sight before him and kissed his wife on the head. “How is it going in here? Almost ready?”

“I think so,” Warren replied, looking over her shoulder to Asha, Grey, and Siri.

“Uncle Greg!” Siri cried, running over to Greg.

“Hey kiddo!” Greg greeted, crouching down to give her a hug. “You look beautiful!”

‘Thank you!” Siri replied. “You should see Mama! She’s real pretty!”

“I bet she is!” Greg replied, standing up.

“It’s about time to get this show on the road, isn’t it?” asked Grey, coming over to where Warren and Greg were standing.

“It sure is,” Greg replied. “Everyone’s about ready out there, but we certainly can’t start without the bride.”

Asha came over to join her friends, looking a little shy.

“You’re right Siri, your mama does look beautiful.” Greg said to Siri before looking over to where his friend stood. “Ander is a lucky guy,”

Asha blushed and looked down, running her hand over a wrinkle on her dress.

“Are you ready to get married?” Greg asked Asha.

Asha nodded. “Yes,”

“Let’s go then,” Warren replied.

Together, the group headed towards town square, where many people had gathered for the occasion. There were residents of Haligan Island and friends from the Rebellion in attendance. Many offered smiles and hellos as they approached where the ceremony would take place.

Nala was there, standing off to the side, looking focused. She was there to make sure everyone was safe. There was a large gathering of rebels and she intended to keep it secure. The sight of her, however, made Asha smile. Nala cared for them in her own way.

Grey gave Asha’s hand a gentle squeeze before she headed to the front of the gathering. As the chief, she was the one who would be officiating the wedding, and there was no one else Asha would rather have do it than her big sister.

Ander was already there, looking anxious. Grey smiled at him as she took her place and he returned it. His mother kissed his cheek, before backing away. She would be standing with him. The crowd quieted.

Asha twisted her hands nervously as Greg, Warren, and little Lila took their place up front. Asha did not have parents to stand for her and Grey was conducting the ceremony, so the Ericsons had asked if they could stand with Asha, and she had never felt more loved. Moonbeam was on Asha’s side as well. She was family too.

Siri was holding Asha’s hand tightly, but Asha was supposed to walk down by herself. Grey smiled kindly as she knelt down, gesturing for Siri to come to her. Siri looked up at her mother.

Asha knelt down and kissed Siri on the head. “Go ahead, sweet one. Daddy’s over there and I’ll be right there.”

Siri nodded and smiled and practically ran down the aisle to her Aunt Grey and Ander. Everyone laughed kindly at the enthusiastic little girl as she ran to Ander, who hugged her tight.

No one sent Siri away from Ander. Asha had made it very clear that she wanted her little girl to be present with them at the ceremony. She was their daughter, after all.

As Asha made her way down the aisle, she gave small, shy smiles to her friends. When she neared Ander, he stood up to greet his soon-to-be wife. He looked a little teary-eyed.

Asha blushed and extended both her hands to Ander, who took them in his own.

Siri went to stand beside her mother, as she had been told to do.

The ceremony was sweet. Grey said some kind words about Asha and Ander and their relationship and then there were some traditional words and prayers, which led up to vows and the exchanging of rings.

Asha went first. When she spoke, her voice was quiet as usual, but she had been told not to worry. Her words were more for Ander than anyone else.

“Ander, I want to thank you. You have always been so sweet and kind, so helpful. You proved to me that I was deserving of love when I thought I was not. You showed me that it was okay to be myself. You showed me what love could feel like. And most importantly, you were so kind and understanding about my daughter and have never treated her as anything but your own. You provide safety and comfort and joy to Siri and I. We are lucky to have you. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” Asha’s voice wavered, but she smiled as she slipped a ring onto Ander’s finger.

Ander began then. “Asha, you are my everything. You have shown me what true kindness is, how to be selfless, how to appreciate every moment life gives you and how to make the best of every situation. I’ve never been more happy to meet someone who got lost.”

The guests laughed.

He continued. “I like to think there’s a reason Moonbeam brought you to my island, and it’s not because you needed me, but because I needed you. You radiate a quiet passion. You stand by your friends and what you believe in no matter what, and you do everything with the best intentions. You love with your whole heart, always. It’s a pleasure to love you. And I consider you letting me help you raise Siri the greatest honor I’ve ever been allowed to have.”

Ander put a ring on Asha’s finger, before he released Asha’s hands, only to crouch in front of Siri and take hers. “And Siri,”

Asha put her hand to her mouth as tears threatened to spill over. She had not known he was going to do that.

“Siri, my beautiful daughter. You are a special little girl. I know that I have been your daddy as long as you can remember, but it is still so very special to me that you love me as much as you do. I adore you. I have since the moment I saw you. And I love your mama too. And I promise I will do everything to keep both of you happy and safe for the rest of my life. I love you, Squirt, and I always will.”

“I love you too, Daddy!” Siri replied.

Asha and Ander laughed as Ander rose again to take Asha’s hands.

Grey smiled at them both. “By the powere vested in me, as Chief of Haligan Island, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

A cheer went up as Ander pulled Asha close to kiss her. Ander then pulled Siri into his arms and kissed her cheek.

“Friends, it is my pleasure to present to you Ander and Asha, and Siri, Haralson. Congratulations.”

The crowd cheered again as Asha and Ander stood hand in hand, Siri in Ander’s arms.

Grey cane over and hugged them both. Ander’s mother kissed Asha on the cheek and Siri on the forehead. Greg and Warren were beaming.

Asha had never felt more love in her whole life. And she was glad she had family and friends to share it with.

#botgd #asha #ander #siri #ashander #wedding #1060 #siri is 5 #gregen #chief grey #haligan island

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thefeministherald · 5 years

Text

Your Ultimate Women-Write-The-Best-of-Everything 2019 Reading List

The Voyeurs (Graphic Novel)

"The Voyeurs is the work of a mature writer, if not one of the most sincere voices of her literary generation. It's a fun, honest read that spans continents, relationships and life decisions. I loved it."—Chris Ware, Acme Novelty Library

"As she watches other people living life, and watches herself watching them, Bell's pen becomes a kind of laser, first illuminating the surface distractions of the world, then scorching them away to reveal a deeper reality that is almost too painful and too beautiful to bear."— Alison Bechdel, Fun Home

"A master of the exquisite detail, Bell provides a welcome peephole into our lives."—Françoise Mouly, The New Yorker

The Voyeurs, was named one of the best books of the year by Publishers Weekly, Kirkus Reviews, and the Atlantic.

Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity

In this brilliant, breathtaking book by Pulitzer Prize winner Katherine Boo, a bewildering age of global change and inequality is made human through the dramatic story of families striving toward a better life in Annawadi, a makeshift settlement in the shadow of luxury hotels near the Mumbai airport. As India starts to prosper, the residents of Annawadi are electric with hope. Abdul, an enterprising teenager, sees “a fortune beyond counting” in the recyclable garbage that richer people throw away. Meanwhile Asha, a woman of formidable ambition, has identified a shadier route to the middle class. With a little luck, her beautiful daughter, Annawadi’s “most-everything girl,” might become its first female college graduate.

Marbles: Mania, Depression, Michelangelo, and Me: A Graphic Memoir

Cartoonist Ellen Forney explores the relationship between “crazy” and “creative” in this graphic memoir of her bipolar disorder, woven with stories of famous bipolar artists and writers.

Shortly before her thirtieth birthday, Forney was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Flagrantly manic and terrified that medications would cause her to lose creativity, she began a years-long struggle to find mental stability while retaining her passions and creativity.

Searching to make sense of the popular concept of the crazy artist, she finds inspiration from the lives and work of other artists and writers who suffered from mood disorders, including Vincent van Gogh, Georgia O’Keeffe, William Styron, and Sylvia Plath. She also researches the clinical aspects of bipolar disorder, including the strengths and limitations of various treatments and medications, and what studies tell us about the conundrum of attempting to “cure” an otherwise brilliant mind.

Darkly funny and intensely personal, Forney’s memoir provides a visceral glimpse into the effects of a mood disorder on an artist’s work, as she shares her own story through bold black-and-white images and evocative prose.

The Woman in Cabin 10

From New York Times bestselling author of the “twisty-mystery” (Vulture) novel In a Dark, Dark Wood, comes The Woman in Cabin 10, an equally suspenseful and haunting novel from Ruth Ware—this time, set at sea. In this tightly wound, enthralling story reminiscent of Agatha Christie’s works, Lo Blacklock, a journalist who writes for a travel magazine, has just been given the assignment of a lifetime: a week on a luxury cruise with only a handful of cabins. The sky is clear, the waters calm, and the veneered, select guests jovial as the exclusive cruise ship, the Aurora, begins her voyage in the picturesque North Sea. At first, Lo’s stay is nothing but pleasant: the cabins are plush, the dinner parties are sparkling, and the guests are elegant. But as the week wears on, frigid winds whip the deck, gray skies fall, and Lo witnesses what she can only describe as a dark and terrifying nightmare: a woman being thrown overboard. The problem? All passengers remain accounted for—and so, the ship sails on as if nothing has happened, despite Lo’s desperate attempts to convey that something (or someone) has gone terribly, terribly wrong…

1222

Nominated for the Edgar Award for Best Novel, from Norway’s #1 bestselling female crime writer—a “beguiling” (The Washington Post) “good old-fashioned murder mystery” (The New York Times Book Review) set in an isolated hotel where guests stranded during a monumental snowstorm begin turning up dead. A train on its way to the northern reaches of Norway derails during a massive blizzard, 1,222 meters above sea level. The passengers head for a nearby hotel, centuries old and practically empty. With plenty of food and shelter from the storm, the evacuees think they are safe, until one of them turns up dead. With no sign of rescue and the storm raging, retired police inspector Hanne Wilhelmsen is asked to investigate. Paralyzed by a bullet lodged in her spine, Hanne has no desire to get involved. But when another body turns up, panic takes over. Complicating things is the presence of a mysterious guest, a passenger who traveled in a private rail car and now stays secluded on the top floor of the hotel. No one knows who the guest is, or why armed guards are needed. Hanne has her suspicions. Trapped in her wheelchair, trapped by the storm, and now trapped with a killer, Hanne knows she must act before the killer strikes again.

Robot Dreams

A Kirkus Reviews Best Book of the Year A PW Best Book of the Year An ALSC Notable Children’s Book A YALSA Great Graphic Novel

This moving, charming graphic novel about a dog and a robot shows us in poignant detail how powerful and fragile relationships are.

Borderlands / La Frontera: The New Mestiza

Rooted in Gloria Anzaldúa's experience as a Chicana, a lesbian, an activist, and a writer, the essays and poems in this volume profoundly challenged, and continue to challenge, how we think about identity. Borderlands / La Frontera remaps our understanding of what a "border" is, presenting it not as a simple divide between here and there, us and them, but as a psychic, social, and cultural terrain that we inhabit, and that inhabits all of us.

Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened

Every time Allie Brosh posts something new on her hugely popular blog Hyperbole and a Half the internet rejoices. This full-color, beautifully illustrated edition features more than fifty percent new content, with ten never-before-seen essays and one wholly revised and expanded piece as well as classics from the website like, “The God of Cake,” “Dogs Don’t Understand Basic Concepts Like Moving,” and her astonishing, “Adventures in Depression,” and “Depression Part Two,” which have been hailed as some of the most insightful meditations on the disease ever written.

Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat: Mastering the Elements of Good Cooking

Now a Netflix series! New York Times Bestseller and Winner of the 2018 James Beard Award for Best General Cookbook and multiple ICAP Cookbook Awards Named one of the Best Books of 2017 by: NPR, BuzzFeed, The Atlantic, The Washington Post, Chicago Tribune, Rachel Ray Every Day, San Francisco Chronicle, Vice Munchies, Elle.com, Glamour, Eater, Newsday, Minneapolis Star Tribune, The Seattle Times, Tampa Bay Times, Tasting Table, Modern Farmer, Publishers Weekly, and more. A visionary new master class in cooking that distills decades of professional experience into just four simple elements, from the woman declared “America’s next great cooking teacher” by Alice Waters.

Monstress Volume 1: Awakening

Set in an alternate matriarchal 1900's Asia, in a richly imagined world of art deco-inflected steam punk, MONSTRESS tells the story of a teenage girl who is struggling to survive the trauma of war, and who shares a mysterious psychic link with a monster of tremendous power, a connection that will transform them both and make them the target of both human and otherworldly powers. About the Creators: New York Times bestselling and award-winning writer Marjorie Liu is best known for her fiction and comic books. She teaches comic book writing at MIT, and leads a class on Popular Fiction at the Voices of Our Nation (VONA) workshop.

Persepolis

Marjane Satrapi's best-selling, internationally acclaimed graphic memoir. Persepolis is the story of Satrapi's unforgettable childhood and coming of age within a large and loving family in Tehran during the Islamic Revolution; of the contradictions between private life and public life in a country plagued by political upheaval.

Nobody Nowhere: The Remarkable Autobiography of an Autistic Girl

Donna Williams was a child with more labels than a jam-jar: deaf, wild disturbed, stupid insane... She lived within herself, her own world her foreground, ours a background she only visited. Isolated from her self and from the outside world, Donna was, in her words, a Nobody Nowhere. She swung violently between these two worlds, battling to join our world and, simultaneously, to keep it out. Abandoned from all connection to the self within her, she lived as a ghost with a body, a patchwork of the images which bombarded her. Intact but detached from the seemingly incomprehensible world around her, she lived in what she called 'a world under glass`.

After twenty-five years of being misunderstood, and unable to understand herself, Donna stumbled upon the word 'autism': a label, but one which held up a mirror and made sense of her life and struggles, and gave her a chance to finally forgive both herself and those around her.

The Ice Princess

The psychological thriller debut of No.1 bestselling Swedish crime sensation Camilla Lackberg.

A small town can hide many secrets

Returning to her hometown after the funeral of her parents, writer Erica Falck finds a community on the brink of tragedy. The death of her childhood friend, Alex, is just the beginning. Her wrists slashed, her body frozen in an ice-cold bath, it seems like she’s taken her own life.

Meanwhile, local detective Patrik Hedström is following his own suspicions about the case. It’s only when they start working together that the truth begins to emerge about a small town with a deeply disturbing past…

The Vampire Chronicles: Interview with a Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and The Queen of the Damned

In 1976, nearly 80 years after Bram Stoker published Dracula, Anne Rice's bestselling first novel, Interview with the Vampire, breathed new life into the vampire myth. Now, in one chilling volume, here are the first three classic novels of The Vampire Chronicles; Interview with the Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and Queen of the Damned.

Adulthood is a Myth: A Sarah's Scribbles Collection

Do you love networking to advance your career? Is adulthood an exciting new challenge for which you feel fully prepared? Ugh. Please go away. 2016 GOODREADS CHOICE AWARD WINNER FOR GRAPHIC NOVELS AND COMICS! These casually drawn, perfectly on-point comics by the hugely popular young Brooklyn-based artist Sarah Andersen are for the rest of us. They document the wasting of entire beautiful weekends on the internet, the unbearable agony of holding hands on the street with a gorgeous guy, and dreaming all day of getting home and back into pajamas. In other words, the horrors and awkwardnesses of young modern life. Oh and they are totally not autobiographical. At all.

Nimona

Indies Choice Book of the Year * National Book Award Finalist * New York Times Bestseller * New York Times Notable Book * Kirkus Best Book * School Library Journal Best Book * Publishers Weekly Best Book * NPR Best Book * New York Public Library Best Book * Chicago Public Library Best Book

The New York Times bestselling graphic novel sensation from Noelle Stevenson, based on her beloved and critically acclaimed web comic. Kirkus says, “If you’re going to read one graphic novel this year, make it this one.”

Nemeses! Dragons! Science! Symbolism! All these and more await in this brilliantly subversive, sharply irreverent epic from Noelle Stevenson. Featuring an exclusive epilogue not seen in the web comic, along with bonus conceptual sketches and revised pages throughout, this gorgeous full-color graphic novel has been hailed by critics and fans alike as the arrival of a “superstar” talent (NPR.org).

Cultural Anthropology Barbara Miller

Cultural Anthropology presents a balanced introduction to the world’s cultures, focusing on how they interact and change. Author Barbara Miller provides many points where readers can interact with the material, and encourages students to think critically about other cultures as well as their own. Featuring the latest research and statistics throughout, the eighth edition has been updated with contemporary examples of anthropology in action, addressing recent newsworthy events such as the Ebola epidemic.

Captain Marvel Volume 1: Higher, Further, Faster, More

Kelly Sue Deconnick

Hero! Pilot! Avenger! Captain Marvel, Earth's Mightiest Hero with an attitude to match, is back and launching headfirst into an all-new ongoing adventure! As Captain Marvel, a.k.a. Carol Danvers, comes to a crossroads with a new life and new romance, she makes a dramatic decision that will alter the course of her life - and the entire Marvel Universe - in the months to come. But as Carol takes on a mission to return an alien girl to her homeworld, she lands in the middle of an uprising against the Galactic Alliance! Investigating the forced resettlement of Rocket Girl's people, Carol discovers that she has a history with the man behind the plot. But when the bad guy tries to blackmail Carol and turn the Avengers against her, it's payback time! Guest-starring the Guardians of the Galaxy!

#reading list #literature #women in literature #feminism #feminist

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resiradiart · 6 years

Note

If your OC was an NPC asks: 1-3 for Mattiss, 12-14 for Asiiva, 13,15-16 for Asha, and 5-8 for Khezal

WhenI started answering these I realized that I did not play swtor in almost a year and never even finished KOTFE

Thatand that I haven‘t answered any asks in an eternity

So bearwith me :,)

Also, cut because many questions.

Mattiss

1.Would they be recruitable?

Probably not as a companion. If anything he‘d be recruitable for the Alliance during KOTFE. He‘sa busy man after all and doesn‘t really do much hands-on workanymore.

2.Would they be a class specific character? (ie. Imperial Agent only.Republic character only)

No, he could be recruited by any character, but I could imagine that different classes have different methods/missions for recruitment, and honestly, I feel like Smugglers or Bounty Hunters might have it a whole lot easier to convince him than anybody too closely affiliated with the Republic or the Empire, because he’d want to make extra sure you’re not tricking him into going back to prison.

3.When would you recruit them? Vanilla story? an Expac? Post KOTET?

KOTFE, as already answered. (Also like I said I have no idea what happens after KOTFE chapter 13 or 14)

Asiiva

12.Are they better as a tank, healer or DPS?

She‘s best as a tank (that‘s what she is in-game). She does have a blaster pistol, but mostly fights melee with various tech gadgets and special punching-gloves. Apart from that she has about as much shield and absorption technology built into her armor as she could fit.

13.What gifts do they Love? Like? What would they say when you gave them a gift?

Favorite would be technology, for obvious reasons. She would love weapons, and like cultural artifacts, military gear and underworld goods.

When given technology, she might say something like “I know exactly what to do with this. Thank you.”

For other gifts she’d say something along the lines of “You seem to know me better than I’d like. But thank you.” or “I appreciate the gesture.”

14.What would they say if you sent them away/changed them out?

“If Idon’t hear from you again I’ll assume you’re dead.”

Asha

13.What gifts do they Love? Like? What would they say when you gave them a gift?

Her favorite would probably be luxury items. She would love courting gifts (even if you don’t romance her), and like cultural artifacts and trophies. Maybe she would even like Imperial and Republic memorabilia.

To being given her favorite gifts: “Oh, I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much!”

and when given other gifts she likes: “That’s nice of you. Thanks.” or “For me? Really? Thank you.”

15.What do they say when they heal you? What do they say when they are attacking?

When healing somebody:

“No, no, no, no, no, no…”

“Could you maybe try… not to get hurt?”

“I don’t have any medical training, you know?”

When attacking:

“Okay, this stops now.”

“I might not look like it, but I am willing to hurt you.”

“Do you think I got this scar in a greenhouse?!”

16.What’s their idle chatter like? Do they talk a lot (when you arriveon each planet) or do they suddenly say something in some strangeplaces?

She will definitely comment on the flora a lot. Sometimes she might ask something like “Can we stop? I think I saw a rare plant back there in the bushes…”

Maybe, occasionally “Wait don’t touch that that’s… oh, nevermind, I was wrong.”

And when landing on Belsavis “You know, this is the planet where…uhm… you know what? Forget I said anything.”

Khezal

5.What would their recruitment mission be?

That dumbass would probably be stranded somewhere, either in the total wilderness, or enemy territory. While he might attempt to get back to a spaceport or outpost on his own, you have to run after him and make sure he doesn’t get himself killed. He will say he could have handled it himself, but as soon as you tell him his superiors sentyou, he will be at your command.

6.What would be their original recruitment outfit?

Haha, I do not have any screenshots of him on this computer whatsoever. None. I also have none online or in a cloud. And I also don’t have swtor installed because dorm-wi-fi is awful.

So what I can tell you is that in-game he is currently wearing the remnant underworld warrior armor, or at least the top half of it. I think. That fits him pretty well so I’d say he wears something like that and maybe also this helmet.

7.Would there be a character they don’t like? Would that cause you to choose sides?

I think there would be plenty of characters he wouldn’t like. I’d make a list, but…

Anyways, he’d dislike everybody who belongs to the republic or opposes the Sith, as well as people who treat him like he’s stupid. However, assuming he was told to stay by your side or you’re outranking him, he would accept anybody. Grudgingly, but quietly.

8.Are they romancable? Why/why not?

Yes. Not a full-blown-happy-ending-marriage-kids-romance, but a fling. In the beginning him and Noshaani had more of an open relationship and as long as they were apart they were seeing/sleeping with other people. (Also I’m not sure we ever even established a fixed timeline for their relationship, so I’m just gonna say yes, because who wouldn’t want to romance Khezal?)

Now, if the player character is female, they could have a casual thing very early on, with it being very clear that he is not interested ina relationship. He would possibly even end the affair once you get toknow him a little better.

Whenthe player character is male, however, to have some sort of fling or one-night-stand, you would have to make exactly the right decisions, and chose the right dialogue options, to create enough sexual tension for Khezal to give in. Even if you do manage that, though, he wouldact like it never happened afterwards.

#thank you for asking!#i appreciate it!#this was super fun #OLD ANSWERS

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zindagigulzarhai-blog · 7 years

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Kuch Rang Pyar Ke - Episode 275-279 (20th March - 24th March, 2017)

This week had some of the best episodes of the show. I might not agree with everything that was shown, but it all laid out a strategy for what's going to happen next.

Dev leaving a note for Sonakshi asking her to take a painkiller and to rest was a great scene to start off the week with. It gave me hope that for the rest of the week, Dev and Sonakshi are going to be cordial with each other, and that's exactly what happened. The conversation they had when when they were stranded in the forest is what helped them both realize that they're both hurting from the separation, and that they both feel saddened in their own ways.

When Soha called Dev 'Papa,' I felt like I was happier than Dev was. When Sonakshi and Dev separated, Dev was left with no one. But that day, none of it mattered to him anymore. Sonakshi being genuinely happy about Soha calling Dev 'Papa' was heartwarming to watch. Of course, the highlight of the scene was the family picture. It felt so nice to see them forgetting all their problems, even if it was for a few seconds.

Dev's gesture of taking Soha and Golu to the orphanage was very sweet, something that made us believe that the old Dev still exists. The most important aspect of this scene was the way Sonakshi kept looking at Dev the entire time they were there. We can slowly see Sonakshi's facade falling off, and that she’s showing her true feelings towards Dev. The entire time they were at the orphanage, Sonakshi could only look at Dev, the Dev she had fallen in love with.

After watching that scene, it got me thinking about how this changes the game on who would first want a reconciliation. Until now, I was sure that Dev would be the first one to want a reconciliation, even though he would claim that he was just doing it for Soha. But after the orphanage scene, I feel like Sonakshi would be the one who would want to get back together with Dev. I feel like Sonakshi will tell Dev that she's ready to forget everything that he's done to her and her family, put everything in the past and start afresh with him and Soha as a happy family. We know that Dev wants nothing more than to be a happy family with Sonakshi and Soha, but not yet. For Dev, it doesn't change the fact that Sonakshi didn't trust his love enough. Sonakshi saying those things would not solve any of Dev's problems, as he knows Ishwari still hasn't changed. This time, he would not impulsively ask Sonakshi to be with him without being more than a hundred percent sure that Ishwari has accepted his relationship with Sonakshi with all her heart.

When Soha tells her parents that she wants to live with the both of them, it comes as a shock to Dev and Sonakshi. But to be honest, it's a very normal thing for kids who come from a divorced family to ask for. Even though Sonakshi explained to Soha that she and Dev will not be able to live together, Soha is still a child. Things like this will not be understood so easily by her at this age. Dev was concerned too about Soha's wish, so he voiced out Soha's concern to her by explaining to her, "Suhana, main shayad aapka acha Papa ho sakta hoon, aapki Dadi ka acha beta bann sakta hoon, Golu ka acha chacha bann sakta hoon lekin aapki mummy ke liye kabhi ek acha husband nahi ho sakta." I loved the fact that Dev handled that part of the conversation with a lot more maturity that I expected him to. So did Sonakshi. No blame games, no fighting, just calmly explaining.

What Dev and Sonakshi are not understanding is that Soha's demand is very normal. Seeing her parents together, it was a very obvious thing for Soha to ask for. For Dev, this whole parenting thing is new. He doesn't even want the idea of Soha being disappointed to enter his mind. Them giving in to Soha's demand is going to be interesting to watch, but something good will come out of it, I know it :)

Dev telling Ishwari that Sonakshi is a part of his life, but only as Soha's mom, made me very happy. Dev has finally acknowledged the fact that Sonakshi is Soha's mom, and there's nothing anyone can do or say to change that. To win over Soha, Sonakshi had to be won over first. And that's what we saw when Soha decided to call Dev 'Papa.' We saw her thinking about all the times Dev was with her mom, and how he helped her. Not only Dev, but Sonakshi too had finally accepted the fact that Soha is also Dev's daughter. There was no more 'meri beti' from either side, and that is such a progress. It was a treat to hear Sonakshi say, "Soha Dev ki beti hai aur usey jaan ne ka poora haq hai" to when Bijoy asked her not to inform Dev about their move to Kolkata.

Ishwari took me by surprise in the scene where she's talking to Dev about Sonakshi's presence in his life. With her arms folded, she had some new found confidence in her suspicion. She asks Dev, "Pata nahi kab peecha chodegi woh tumhara, kab teri zindage se hamesha ke liye..." to which Dev stopped her and said, "Sochke bol, Maa. Kya bol rahi hai tu?" Dev was firm with Ishwari in that scene and asked her to also acknowledge the fact that where ever Soha is going to be there, Sonakshi is going to be there too, but only as Soha's mom. Dev does not let his mom influence him anymore, and this conversation is proof of that. Ishwari saying that had Soha been brought up in her house, she wouldn't have been throwing a tantrum like this had me laughing to myself. Is it just me, or does anyone else feel like Soha's being unreasonable just like her Dadi? Isn't Soha throwing a tantrum just like how her Dadi would in order to get Dev to listen to her? Now now, what does Ishwari have to say to this. Ishwari's most ignorant and idiotic comment till date was, "Dev aur Suhana ke beech mein Sonakshi kahan se aa gayi?" Does Ishwari not know how babies are born? For her to even think that and actually say it out loud to Mami is proof that redemption is extremely far from her.

Asha made me very happy this week. The first time was when she asked Sonakshi if she started to love and trust Dev again. Asha was never against Dev. She always used to explain his perspective to Sonakshi. Even this time, Asha explained to her daughter that no matter what Sonakshi thinks about Dev, Soha is there as a joining force between them. The second time was when she told Bijoy, "Bachon ko agar meetha khilathe rahe to unhe mirchi khane ki aadat kabhi nahin padegi." That is so true. As parents, you cannot give in to anything and everything your (six year old) child asks for. Soha is just throwing a tantrum (like her Dadi and Dadu) and will get over it. I agreed with Asha when she told Sonakshi to let Soha go to Kolkata, as she will realize that she cannot stay without her parents, and will come back in a few days. Asha was the only sensible one to support Dev and Sonakshi in their decision of them staying together. Asha knows that something good will come out of this decision of theirs, she definitely is the coolest!

My most favorite moments from all the episodes of the week was when Dev tells Golu, "Purani aadat hain meri. Iss ghar mein rehne wale aksar mujhse naraz ho jaate hain, aur main aise hi bahar baith kar unka wait karta hoon, unka mood theek hone ka." That was the cutest scene of the entire week. I wish I had a reason to explain why I liked it so much, but it just brought back so many good memories to me of when Dev and Sonakshi used to date.

Dev and Sonakshi talking about Jatin was a scene which showed me how Dev and Sonakshi are not only cordial with each other now, but informal enough to tease each other a little bit. Of course, the highlight of that scene was when they both sat on the pavement, helpless about what to do. Dev saying, "Maine aaj itna helpless mehsoos nahi kiya, jitna aaj kar rahaa hoon. Shaayad uss din bhi nahi, jis din tum…" showed such a promise for their further interactions. They were finally talking as Dev and Sonakshi, and not just as Soha's parents.

Bijoy never disapproved of Dev until he saw tears in his daughter's eyes because of Dev. Bijoy didn't interfere in Sonakshi's choice until Dev broke up with her the first time. Bijoy not trusting the entire Dixit family is completely acceptable. Dev would've been the same, if not worse, to the guy who broke Soha's heart. My only problem with Bijoy is the fact that he's very interfering in Sonakshi's decisions, and that confuses her as to whether she's doing the right thing. This week, Bijoy did nothing but diss Dev, and think that a six year old's idea of moving to a different city is genius. Well, Kolkata isn't a secret place, and Dev can easily get there. It's not going to be rocket science for Dev to figure out how to get to Kolkata to meet his daughter. We know Bijoy is coming from a protective side, but he's becoming illogical by doing so. He literally started packing his bags the second Soha said she wants to move to Kolkata. If Bijoy tries one more time to keep Sonakshi and Dev apart from each other, as Asha said, Soha will blame her Dadu for keeping her parents away from each other. And what I don't understand is how Bijoy was ready to skip his own son's wedding ceremony in order to keep Dev away from Soha. I agree with the tweets that say just like how Ishwari is blind towards her daughter's needs, Bijoy is the same to Saurabh.

Sonakshi and Dev arguing about their new living situation was a fun scene to watch. First of all, thank you to Sonakshi for questioning Dev about what's wrong if she's a feminist. I don't want to get into the details of feminism, but i'm sure Dev will learn the meaning of it soon. Both Dev and Sonakshi not wanting to stay in the others' house was very understandable. If I were Sonakshi, there is no way i'd want to go back to that 'madhouse.' She was miserable there (except for when she was alone with Dev) and as she said, she was saying that with experience. Dev not wanting to go to the Bose house is understandable too. The Boses think he kicked them out of their house, so obviously they weren't going to welcome him into their home. So this temporary solution they came up with, as of now, is going to be very interesting to watch.

Before entering the Bose house for his week long stay, I loved the flashbacks and the memories that Dev was thinking about, "Ek baar phir, zindagi ne mujhe isi darwaze ke saamne laakar khada kar diya hain. Kitni ajeeb baat hain, aur aisa lagta hai ke jaise iss ghar se, ek nahi, kahi rishte jude hain. Boss, dost, boyfriend, pagal aashiq, aur ab pati. Lekin ye rishta, sabse khaas hain. Aaj se pehle, main kitna kuch tha. Lekin aaj ke baad, main sirf Suhana ka Papa hoon." I loved how he thought about all the different kinds of relationships he shared with Sonakshi. This was one of the best scenes of the week.

Dev and Sonakshi went against their whole family and told them that they made their decision of living together solely for Soha, and that it has nothing to do with anyone or anything else. It made me happy to realize that they are making this decision together. Dev and Sonakshi have realized that the other will always have a place in Soha's heart. Dev telling Soha that it was him and her mom who decided to stay together for Soha was something that I was waiting to watch. I wanted to see Dev tell Soha that he and Sonakshi are in this together, and only for Soha. And Dev thanking Asha for her support was heartwarming to watch. Dev always used to tell Sonakshi how understanding and supporting her mom is.

Is it just me, or does anyone else think that Dev staying in the Bose house isn't going to be that bad? I mean, of course, it's not going to be all rainbows and sunshine. But it's not going to be like Dev will be miserable there. I really wish something good comes out of his stay there. I really want Asha to explain to Dev all that Sonakshi had to go through after their separation. I would love to see that conversation between the two of them, a nice, mature conversation that makes Dev understand how Sonakshi was treated in the Dixit house. I hope the Boses also get to know that Dev had nothing to do with the evacuation and prenup papers, but I think it's too soon for that. To say that i'm looking forward to the next few episodes is an understatement!

#Kuch Rang Pyar Ke Aise Bhi #krpkab

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brajeshupadhyay · 4 years

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Urban India didn't care about migrant workers till 26 March, only cares now because it's lost their services: P Sainath

Recently, 16 workers from MP were killed under a train in their sleep in Aurangabad. What does it say about us that our first reaction is to question why the dead workers were sleeping on the tracks, and not those who pushed them to walk home?

How many English publications even bothered to give names of the workers crushed under the train? They just had to go faceless, and nameless. That is our attitude towards the poor. If it had been a plane crash, you would have helplines giving information. Even if there had been 300 killed in the crash, their names would appear in the newspapers. But 16 poor guys from Madhya Pradesh, eight of them Gond Adivasis, who gives a shit? They were walking along those railway lines as a guide to home — to a station from where they hoped to get a train home. They slept on the tracks because they were exhausted and probably believed there were no trains plying on those lines.

With a workforce as huge as the one in India, what do you think of the communication of governments to workers?

We gave a nation of 1.3 billion human beings four hours to shut down their lives. MG Devasahayam, one of our legendary civil servants, had said, "A small infantry brigade being pushed into a major action is given more than four hours notice." Whether or not we agree with the migrant workers, the rationale in leaving was absolutely sound. They know — and every hour we are proving — how untrustworthy, inconsiderate and cruel their governments, factory owners and middle-class employers like us are. And we are proving that with laws to restrict their freedom of movement.

You created panic. You sent the country into complete chaos with millions on the highway. We could have easily converted the marriage halls, schools and colleges and community centres that were shut down into shelter homes for migrants and homeless. We declared star hotels into quarantine centres for people returning from abroad.

When we arrange trains for the migrants, we charge them full fare. Then we put in AC trains and Rajdhani class fares of Rs 4,500. To make it worse, you say the tickets can be booked online, assuming they all have smartphones. Some of them buy those tickets. But in Karnataka, they cancel them because the chief minister meets the builders, who say the slaves are escaping. What you are witnessing is the quelling of an anticipated slave rebellion.

We have always had one standard for the poor, and one for others. Even though, when you list essential services, you are finding out that it is only the poor people who are essential, apart from doctors. Many of the nurses are not well-off. Besides them, there are sanitation workers, ASHA workers, aanganwadi workers, electricity workers, power sector workers, and factory workers. Suddenly you are finding how inessential the elite are to this country.

Migration has happened for decades. And their condition was terrible even before the lockdown. How do you see the way we treat our migrant workers in general?

There are many kinds of migrants. But you have to understand the class distinctions of migration. I was born in Chennai. I did my higher education in Delhi, where I lived for four years. I then migrated to Mumbai, and I have been living here for 36 years. Each shift I made benefited me because I come from a particular class and caste. I have social capital and networks.

There are long-term migrants, those who leave from A to B and remain permanently in B.

Then there are seasonal migrants. For example, the sugarcane workers in Maharashtra who migrate to Karnataka for five months and very significantly vice versa — work there and go back to their villages. There are migrants in Kalahandi who go to Raipur during tourist season and pull rickshaws. There are those who go from Koraput in Odisha to the brick kilns of Vizianagaram in Andhra Pradesh for some months.

There are other groups, too — but the people we should be most concerned with are what some of us call footloose migrant workers. The footloose migrant has no clear idea of a final destination. They will come with a contractor and work at a construction site in Mumbai for 90 days. At the end of that period, they have nothing. The contractor will then put them in touch with someone in some other part of Maharashtra, and bus them there. And that goes on indefinitely. That is a wretched life with total, unending insecurity. They are in millions.

When did the state of migrant workers begin to worsen?

Migrations have taken place for more than a century. But they have exploded in the past 28 years. The 2011 Census shows us that between 2001 and 2011, India saw its highest migrant flows — in our independent history.

The 2011 Census noted that for the first time since 1921, the number of people urban India added to its population was higher than the number of people rural India added to its population. The growth of rate of population is much smaller in urban areas, yet you have more people added to urban India’s population.

Go back and search for a panel discussion or interview with experts on television fully dedicated to these facts of the 2011 Census. How many discussed the migrant labourers and the intensity with which migrations happened from rural to urban, rural to rural, and so on?

Any discussion around migration is incomplete without rural distress, which is at the root of migration, right?

We smashed agriculture, and millions of livelihoods collapsed. Every other livelihood in the countryside has been savaged as well. Handlooms and handicrafts together are the biggest employers in the country after agriculture. Boatmen, fishermen, toddy tappers, toy makers, weavers, dyers; one after the other, they are going under like ninepins. What option did they have?

We are wondering if the migrant workers will come back to cities. Why did they come here in the first place?

I do believe the substantial number of migrant workers will come back to the cities. It will take a long time perhaps. But we have long ago destroyed the options they had in villages, ensuring our army of cheap labour.

How do you view the proposed relaxations of labour laws in several states?

First, it is an undermining of the Constitution and existing laws by ordinance. Second, it is an issuance of a bonded labour proclamation by ordinance. Third, it actually sets back the gold standard on working hours by 100 years. The most basic thing is every convention on labour in the world has respected the eight-hour work day.

Look at the Gujarat notification. It says that no overtime will be paid to the workers. The Rajasthan government provides for overtime pay for extra hours, but with a limit of 24 hours a week. The workers will work 12 hours a day for the straight six days.

All of these things have been done quoting exemptions and exceptions in the Factories Act. It says the maximum number of hours a worker can be asked to work — including overtime — is 60 hours. At 12 hours a day, these are coming to 72.

More importantly, the workers have no say whether they want to do the extra hours or not. There is an assumption that productivity goes up with longer working hours. But it goes against many studies done in history. A lot of factories in the past century adopted the 8-hour day because their surveys showed them that productivity dropped off strongly in the extra-long hours because of fatigue and exhaustion.

Regardless of that, it is an attack on basic human rights. It is an enslavement of labour. The states are essentially acting as a contractor, dalal procuring bonded labour for the corporations. Be sure this will affect the weakest sections — Dalits, Adivasis and women — the most.

Ninety-three percent of the workers in India have no rights that they are able to enforce anyway because they work in the informal sector. You are trying to say, "Let us destroy the rights of the remaining seven percent as well". The states are arguing that investment will come with the change in labour laws. But investment comes to places where there are also better infrastructure, better conditions and generally a stable society. If Uttar Pradesh had been any of that, it would not be the state from where largest number of workers migrate across India.

What could be the consequences of this move?

Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh have suspended all labour laws for three years, barring three or four laws that they cannot get around because of the constitutional and legal complexities. You are saying it doesn't matter how miserable the conditions are, the labourers have to work. You are dehumanising people and are saying that they are not entitled to the rights of ventilation, toilets and breaks. This is an ordinance by chief ministers and there is no legislative process behind this.

What do we need to do going forward?

You absolutely need to improve the conditions of labour in the country. The pandemic affects them the way it does because of the gigantic inequalities in our society. What we are doing is a violation of very many international labour conventions that we are party to.

BR Ambedkar saw this clearly. He understood that it wasn’t just about government that we have to talk. We have to talk about workers being at the mercy of business. The states are suspending laws that he helped bring in, that he laid the grounds for.

We have a labour department in state governments. What should its role be?

The role of the labour department in the state should be to protect the rights of the labourers. But you have a union labour minister who is also appealing to the workers to listen to the corporations. You want something to change, you have to change your social contract. If you cannot address one of the most unequal societies on the planet, you can’t do anything about it. It will get worse — and very rapidly.

Most of the workers going back home are young, and angry. Are we sitting on a volcano?

The volcano is exploding. We are trying to not look at it. See the hypocrisy of the governments, media, factory owners and us as a society.

Till 26 March, we never knew about the migrant labourer. Suddenly, we see millions of them in the streets. And we feel the pinch because we have lost our services. We didn’t give a damn until March 26. We didn't think of them as human beings with equal rights.

There is an old saying: When the poor become literate, the rich lose their palanquin bearers. Suddenly, we lost our palanquin bearers.

How do the migrations particularly affect women and children?

It is particularly devastating for women and children. Wherever there is contraction of nutrition, women and girl children are the biggest sufferers. And they are incredibly more vulnerable in health terms. There are ways young girls suffer that rarely are thought about let alone mentioned. Millions of girls in schools across the country are entitled to free sanitary napkins — suddenly the schools are shut, no alternatives provided for. So millions are returning to unhygienic alternatives

What about the difficulties of migrant workers walking back home?

Migrant workers have often walked long distances. For example, the migrant workers walk back to South Rajasthan from their factory or middle-class employers in Gujarat.

But they did that in different circumstances.

They walk 40 kilometres, stop at a dhaba or a tea stall, work there, and get a meal in return. In the morning, they will leave. Next big bus station — they do the same. That is how they earn their way back home. With all of those places closed, they are exposed to dehydration and hunger, diarrhoea and other diseases.

What should we do in the future to improve their condition?

A complete delinking and breaking with the path of development we have chosen, and a massive attack on inequality. The sufferings of the migrant workers arise from their unequal situation.

You cannot do it without realising the importance of "justice for all: Social, economic, and political…" Embedded in your Constitution. And it is not an accident that social and economic precede political. I think there was a clear sense of priority in those people who wrote it. Your Constitution tells you the way.

The Indian elite and government really think that we can go back to business as usual, and that belief is going to lead to incredible oppression, suppression and violence.

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unrequitedmime · 5 years

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Alexander pushes the old oak doors open with a flourish, and they make a booming sound as they hit the walls. Father flinches and mutters a curse as the bang echoes through the library. Asha and I wince, too. Father does not like loud sounds because his head pounds with the pain of a hangover. Asha and I do not like loud sounds because it reminds us of dark nights and shattered wine glasses and crying. Alexander almost hurries in, golden hair dishevelled and bright eyes happy, "Good morning, all. Sorry I am late." I fight the urge to smile at my cousin. I have not seen him nor talked to him for 11 years, but even when we were children he was late to everything. It is nice to know that this habit, this little flaw in the boy I knew and loved, is still here. Today he wears a sky blue tunic with his black trousers, and the golden jewels on his chest do well to make this eyes shine. The Divine enters behind him, quiet and sleek. Her attire today is not as it was at the ball. Her dress is shorter and less grand; a form that is fitting at the chest but frills out at her waist into a dozen layers of black material that cuts at her knees. The dress, like the other night, is so black that it seems to darken the light around her. It makes her pale skin shine. With the void of her dress, the piercing blue of her eyes, and her serious expression, she seems a quiet sort of threatening. A dark sort of powerful. She takes up a spot against the closed oak doors, almost leaning against the wood as she watches the Prince address us. "I was hoping we could spend the next few hours together. As you all know, we are the newest generation of the Circle. Our powerful parents are entrusting us with new responsibilities in our domains, and it is my personal belief that maintaining the connections and trust that the Circle has held for decades is one of the most important things to take care of." He glances around, looking for support. I catch sight of Lord Ronan grinning at the Prince, nodding his head with a supportive wink for his best friend. Princess Valeria does not even blink, only stares at him as if he has not spoken. Renzo Addington, shining beside his brooding brother, smiles gently at the Prince. Luca Addington is not even looking at Alexander; he studies the Divine in the corner with blank eyes. I clear my throat and force a smile, "That sounds lovely, Alexander." ----------------------------------------------------- Alexander checks his watch as he walks, "Ah," He curses quietly so himself, speeding up his pace a fraction, "We're going to be late again." "You always are, Prince." He glances up at me in surprise as we reach the oak doors of the library, "Was that a joke?" I wipe any amusement from my face, "No. Just a fact." He laughs softly, "Oh, Fayre. You're warming up to me." I don't bother telling him not to call me by my name. I have told him every day for weeks now. He has not stopped. And then he opens the doors. He does his usual apology, running his hands through his hair as he attempts a nervous grin at out at the assembled Circle members. I slip into my spot of darkness near the door, ignoring the way it whispers to me. Yesterday was simple but excruciating; five hours of mingling over tea. I stood still for five hours straight, keeping my face neutral as I studied each member of the Circle and ignored the tendrils of darkness that tried to dance their way up my arms. Today will be the exact same. Except this time- The Prince turns back to me, and I blink as I realise he has addressed me. I have no idea what he has just said. He grins as he realises I wasn't listening. "My Divine," He talks to the members of the Circle, but his eyes do not leave mine, "Is a lovely young woman, and as she is going to be with us for years and years, I do not see why we cannot all get to know her." My stomach drops. All pairs of eyes pierce into me, almost burning my skin. I want to wrap myself up into my magic and disappear. I can feel it in my veins, begging me to let it free, begging me to curl into it. I ignore the call, smother the power, as I always do. A man steps forward, his footsteps cutting through the silence as he strides towards me. I fight the urge to shrink farther into the corner, and instead I force myself to take a light step forward. My eyes lock onto his face. Lord Ronan. Alexander's best friend. I have heard Alexander's rants of Ronan; their memories and their fights and their laughs over the years. They have not had a chance to catch up since Ronan has visited this time around, but I know that Lord Ronan is kind to his oldest friend. His face is sprinkled with freckles as if it is fay dust, and his smile is gentle. He extends his hand, "I'm Ronan, and it is an honour to meet the person who Alexander is going to annoy for the rest of his life." I take his hand, and he bends down to kiss the top of it. I almost startle. Lords only kiss the hands of Ladies or Royals. I am neither. He glances up at me, a sudden seriousness in his blue eyes that was not there before, "I do not know what others see," He murmurs, voice only loud enough for me to hear, "But I see that you are a young woman with a story. Not a slave." "Thank you, My Lord," I whisper as he steps back. I do not know whether I want to blow this library apart in my anger or break into sobs. I am a young woman with a story, he is right, and I am grateful that he can see that. But I am also a slave. No matter what, I will always be a slave to the Royals before anything else. Alexander offers his hand. I stare at it for a few moments before taking it. And then he leads me into the lions den. -------------------------------------------------------------------- I recognise her the same moment she recognises me. Her jaw drops open, and I cannot stop the smile from spreading across my face. She stands utterly still, unsure of the boundaries. So I take the lead. I stride those extra few steps between us and wrap her into my arms. She releases a surprised breath as I bury myself in her chest with a giggle. A moment later, she is laughing softly into my hair as she squeezes me tight. Her body is just as warm as it used to be, just as soft and safe. I am taller now, though, and she seems so much more fragile in my arms. I pull away and grin down at her. There are tears in her eyes as she reaches to stroke my cheeks. I lean into her hand. "Gracey?" She whispers, almost to herself. Her accent is still so thick, "Is that you?" I laugh again, the sound thick with threatening tears, "I've missed you, Costa." Her smile is old and happy, "You ARE here! I have missed you, my beautiful child. But where have you been? Why come back now?" I pat her head, as I used to do when I was a child. She rolls her warm brown eyes and clicks her tongue, as she used to do when I was a child. Costa was my favourite servant; the head maid. Asha, Alexander and I used to play hide and seek in the servant halls and quarters when we were very young, so often that we knew every maid and every footman by name. They used to help us find new hiding places when they had time. Costa was always in the kitchen hall, the busiest place in the entire castle; a large hall of benches and stoves and fires and rushing kitchen maids. It was my favourite hiding spot, and she was my favourite person in the entire world beside my family. I truly loved her. She used to sneak me bread rolls and braid my hair and tell me ancient stories of the old Witches. Asha, Alexander and I all had particular servants that we considered our family more than the Royals, and Costa was mine. I gulp, "Mother has passed," Despite my attempt at strength, my voice wobbles slightly. It has been four months, yet my heart still aches. "Asha and I have decided to mend the gap between our families in our mother's absence, for Alexander. I have always missed my cousin." Costa's eyes darken with sadness, and she bundles me up into her arms again, "I am so sorry, my dear," She breathes, voice soft and Mercan accent heavy as always, "Your mother was a beautiful woman with a kind heart and a good head. You take after her, both in looks and spirit." I smile into Costa's shoulder and step back, wiping my tears. "Thank you, Costa. I have missed everything about my old home. Everything in this Palace has hardly changed since I left all those years ago." Costa smiles, "The Prince has changed the least! That cursed boy still sneaks his way through the servant halls in the early hours of the mornings! Sometimes I wake up to find him reading in the kitchen hall by candlelight. I have to shoo him out like a stray dog." My heart soars. I have not had a chance to talk much to Alexander, to get to know the man he has become, but I hope more than anything that he is still the kind and curious boy I left behind. Costa suddenly frowns, glancing down at my red dress and my elegant makeup against the dullness of the servant halls, "But why are you down here, my dear? Surely you have things to do?" I sober up instantly, the shine of happiness blinking out within me. I remember my anger, my mission. "Yes, there is something I have to do." ------------------------------------------------------------ Loretta does not look up from where she chops the tomatoes. I sit perched on the bench beside her, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of bread I snatched from Ergo. He let me, as he always does, with a shake of his head a click of his tongue. I only smiled and curtsied before him. "So," She chirps cheerfully, "Which one of the Addington brothers is the most beautiful?" I almost choke on my bread, "Is that a trick question?" I cross my legs, the black of my dress falling across my legs like a second skin, "Renzo Addington, of course!" Loretta pauses in her cutting for a second and looks into the distance, thoughtful. Her hazel eyes are shining right now with her good mood. Sometimes they are less bright and more sad. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat of the room, and and the strands of her brown hair tumble down her back. In my weeks in the palace, she has become something close to a best friend. "I disagree. I think that Luca Addington is sexy." This time I do choke on my bread. I have not seen Luca Addington properly, have not had time to inspect him. I will admit that every time I plan to observe him and his behaviour, Renzo's laugh wraps me up and takes my attention away. I have spent a lot of time studying Renzo's beauty, and although I do not remember much about Luca Addington's face, I know that it cannot be more handsome than Renzo's. "Don't sound so shocked," Loretta scolds, slapping me with her tomato stained hands. The red juice reminds me of the pink splashes across Lord Ronan's fingers. "I served him his tea this morning. He is a dark sort of sexy. Very brooding, very angry." I narrow my eyes at her, "Brooding and angry sounds dangerous. I do not like dangerous men." "YOU are a dangerous woman," She reminds heavily, "And you are not so bad." "I am not a rich Lord with a seemingly never ending power," I remind, tossing my roll up and flipping it, "Spoilt men are not to be meddled with. They are used to getting their way, and when you do not want to give them what they want, they-" "They what?" Loretta has stopped her chopping now, and her eyes watch me carefully, searching my gaze for the rest of the story. I look away. "They make sure they get it anyway." A moment of silence lasts between us. I know she is watching me, watching the hammering pulse at my throat. Eventually, she sighs. "I suppose you are right. I have heard the whispered stories of Luca Addington. He has a temper, and he has a cruelty streak that runs incredibly deep. He hardly speaks, and when he does he is harsh. I heard that he runs most of the family's business behind the scenes. The-" She clears her throat, "You know... Illegal businesses." Prostitution, human trafficking, drug transportation. I know all too well of the Addington rumours. I open my mouth to respond, but before I can a sharp and loud voice echoes across the hall. "Listen up," A firm woman's voice calls from near the door. Those two words alone demand attention, with all of the anger in them, and within moments the room falls silent. I glance up, searching for the voice. And then I find her. Grace Herald-Gueneeve; an elegant presence in the doorway of the hall. In her hand she holds the collar of a sagging man, head down. It takes me only seconds to realise it is her father, Richard Herald. I blink in shock as I study the man, drunk and half conscious, as he leans against the doorway. His daughter's grip on him is strong. Grace's usually shining face is dark with anger, disgust, as she stares out at the hall. The disgust is not aimed at us; the servants. It is aimed at her father. "If this man," She shakes him a little, "Ever approaches any of you asking for anything, say no. If this man ever flirts with any of you women here or make an advance on you, say no. You say no, and you come find me." Her jaw tightens. When she speaks, her voice is pure steel and mountains, "If this man tries to force you into anything you do not desire, you come find me, and I will make sure he never harms another person again. Do you all understand?" Silence. The bread seems to be stuck in my throat, but I do not dare gulp. Eventually, she takes the quiet as answer. She nods once before striding her way through the hall, dragging her stumbling father behind her. No one moves as she marches through. As she nears Loretta's bench, her eyes catch mine. Her green gaze burns with recognition. "Fayre," She murmurs as she nears me, her father almost unconscious in her hands, "Can you help me get him to his room?" Again, I feel every pair of eyes fall upon me. Fayre, the Prince's Divine. I glance down at the man, mumbling quietly to himself. He looks sallow and dirty and drunk. Old. He reminds me of my father. Memories flash through my mind of sleepless nights waiting up for him, of dragging him to bed, of cleaning up his vomit, of the ache his drunken fists left behind. I swallow back the bread, "Of course, Your Highness." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ For someone so thin, the Divine sure is strong. She supports half of father's weight and walks with purpose through the servant halls. I get lost in the maze within moments, not having been in them for years. I trust that she knows where she is going. How she knows where my father's room is, I do not want to ask. We come to a door that leads into the main palace hallways, and she glances over at me. Her blue eyes have flints of steel in them. She is quite pretty. A sharp sort of beautiful. Subtle and deadly if it needs to be. "We will have to walk a few hallways in public. We may pass other Royals." I never noticed yesterday, but her voice has a lilt of an accent. It makes her syllables a fraction sharper than mine. She hardly spoke yesterday. She spent most of the day seated beside Lord Ronan, pretending to listen to passing conversations, but her eyes roamed. Over the books, the people, the clothing, the faces. Studying and thinking, analysing everything. Ronan was right. She is a young woman with a story. No stupid slave, as the Queen wants her to be. I huff out a sigh, "I guess we must. But I do not know what I will say if anyone sees him." The Divine-Fayre- studies my father for a few moments. "I have a cover for him if need be," Her eyes flick up to mine, remembering who she is talking to, "If that is alright with you, Your Highness." I wonder if she knows she says my title with fire in her voice. A resenting sort of hatred. I nod, "That is okay." We pick up him, and we step into the open. The halls are empty for now, but we still walk as quickly as we dare, our heels click clacking on the floors. I almost grunt under my father's weight- I have not trained in weeks. Fayre, on the other hand, does not make a sound, her eyes flicking around her to watch for passing Royals. It is early morning, so no Royals should be out of their rooms. Passing servants will not blink twice at the scene, Fayre whispers to me. She says they have seen worse in this Palace. I wonder what whispered stories she has heard. I wonder if I am in any of them. I know that my father must be now. I wonder if the maid that I stole him from will tell the others what happened. She will. I know how the servant's gossip beneath us. She will tell them that my father drunkenly bed her last night, and that I exploded into the room like a storm this morning. She will tell them of the awful names I spat at my father as he dressed, and of how quickly I dragged him out of that room like a child. He is a child. Acts like a teenage boy; drunk and flirtatious and reckless and embarrassing. How dare he drunkenly court women in my mother's old home? We find our way to father's room without any interference or prying eyes. I fling his door open with an angry huff, and we drag him in. I glance up as we close the door to find Antonia standing by his bed, arms crossed. She taps her foot as she watches us drop him onto his bed. "What is this?" She asks angrily. I shrug, "Your shitty boss." Fayre does not flinch from my curse. Instead, she glances away to hide her smile. Antonia glares at me. "Grace," She sighs, exasperated as she makes her way over to my father and begins unbuttoning his coat, "Do not speak that way about your father. For all you know he could have been dead last night!" "But he wasn't," I respond blankly to my childhood nanny, "He was sleeping with one of the maids." Antonia looks up sharply, freezing for a moment. In her dark gaze is her disappointment in my father. But also in it is her loyalty to my family. She focuses again on undressing him. Fayre glides her way over to the window, taking the hint when I lean against the door. We may still need her help. "Your father is a troubled man, Gracey," She murmurs, peeling his vomit stained shirt over his head. The disgusting man does not even stir. "He is lost in his grief." "We all are, Antonia," I snap at the woman. She frowns a little, not liking where I am directing my anger, and I let out a calming breath. "She was our mother, but you don't see Asha and I making a fool of ourselves like this." Antonia shakes her head as she tosses his clothing at me, I catch it with a grunt, "You and Asha are coping in other ways, but they are not necessarily healthier." I ignore the sick feeling in my stomach at her words, and she lifts my father up, "Help me carry him to the bath." "Wait," I drop the clothes, "I'll run it first."' Antonia nods to herself, glancing down at my father, "I was worried when the bed was unmade this morning. If we weren't in the Palace I would have assumed that he has passed out somewhere without a fuss. But this is a dangerous place, there are enemies in every hall. I prayed to the Witches when I found the room empty." Fayre, for some strange reason, flinches and looks over. -------------------------------------------------------------- Grace pauses her in stride to the bathroom and slowly turns to her family's maid, a deep frown in her face, "No need to pray, Antonia. You know they are not real." Antonia clicks her tongue, "The Witches are not real? You are foolish not to believe that, girl." Grace only huffs a sigh of contempt and disappears into the adjoining bathroom. Despite myself, despite the rushing blood in my veins, I turn towards the maid. "You believe in the Witches?" My voice is quiet but not weak. The older woman glances over at me as if noticing me for the first time. Her dark eyes scan my body, lingering on the blackness of my dress before meeting my gaze. "I do," She murmurs, almost defensively, "There is magic in this world, as you well know, Divine." She recognises the clothing, "So why wouldn't the White Witches be real, too?" She cocks her head, "Do you believe in them, Divine? Do you believe in the White Witches' black magic?" I do not speak for a few moments. I do not trust myself to. "No," I finally manage, voice raw, "They are just folk stories. Black magic is not real." She stares at me for a long time. I will my face into a bored mask. I ignore the singing in my blood at the mention of black magic. I cannot. I will not. "Black magic is the most powerful essence on this Earth, Divine," Antonia replies finally, and from her words alone I know she is from the North. She has grown and learned and loved in the lands of black magic. No one speaks of the White Witches unless they have witnessed the beauty itself. "The White Witches are otherworldly, and they are fierce, and they are fearless. You know the stories, do you not? They conquer what they want. They hold a connection to every living thing, for what human does not have a scrap of darkness in their soul?" She studies me for a long time, for what feels like years. I do not dare move, in case she sees the shadows I am losing control of in my fear. "The Divine hold magic, but theirs is nothing compared to the Witches. But you..." I try not to breathe, "You have a darkness that I can almost feel. Shadows that almost whisper to me. And, as you well know, dear, darkness can only be born of-" "Bath's ready," Grace's smooth voice cuts through the air, pulling reality back. I jolt from the loss of tension, feeling everything that was escaping snap back into me with a violent pop. I cannot breathe. Antonia glances back at me, dark eyes serious. I do not say a word as I leave the room. ----------------------------------------------------------------- A small hand grabs my wrist. I almost gasp as I am jolted back from my step, startling. I glare down at the young maid with my hand in hers. Her little fingers hold on tighter than needed. Alexander notices the maid a few steps ahead and halts, too. He does not ask, or interfere, only watches as I glare at her. "What?" I almost spit, not in the mood. I hardly slept last night. The words of Grace's maid has kept me up for almost a week straight. The girl is young, perhaps 15, with beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes almost an identical colour to mine. She glances nervously at the Prince, a blush creeping up over her cheeks. It is unheard of for a maid to interrupt a Prince's activities. The first rule among the servants in the Royal Palace is to be invisible. And yet here she is, with the Prince's gaze heavy on her. "P-pardon me, Your Highness," She murmurs to him, curtsying awkwardly with my hand still in her grip. She glances up at me, ignoring his kind face. Her expression is so serious for such a young girl, but then again, I had killed a man by her age. "Loretta was taken this morning by the Addington brothers," She murmurs to me, urgent, "One of them claimed that she had spoken out of place, and he called her up to their quarters to punish her." The breath is knocked from my chest. That is why the girl has risked the Prince's wrath by coming to me. Loretta and I have been inseparable lately. "What punishment?" I breathe. Her blue eyes flash, "40 lashings." I stumble back from her, struggling to think, to breathe. 40 lashings is enough to debilitate someone, perhaps even kill. No one deserves 40 lashings, especially Loretta, and especially for simply talking out of line. I try to imagine Loretta speaking rudely to an Addington brother. She would never. She would absolutely never. The girl hurries on without a word, glancing back at me once. Alexander appears to my side, catching me as I teeter. "Fayre?" He murmurs quietly, confused, "Are you okay?" I step out of his support and find the world spinning. 40 lashes will kill her. I look at the Prince. He stares back, blue eyes earnest and concerned. I turn and run. --------------------------------------------------- I don't think as I run, almost tripping over my long skirts. The ruffles dance around my ankles as I sprint through the hallways, dress flying like a cape behind me. I have memorised the hallways of the Palace; I know the way to the Addington quarters. I am there within minutes, the door right in front of my face. I do not have time to glare at the Addington family crest on the thick wood; three coins in the air. One for each son. There is one guard stationed at the door, and he reaches his sword out to me as I sprint. He knows who I am; the Divine. Powerful, and faster than him. Without even thinking, my hands fly towards him. I ignore the warning screams in my head as the magic shoots from my palm, the darkness surrounding him for a moment like a cloak. He screams in his blindness, and I slip by without a word. I throw the doors open with all of my weight and almost stumble into the light of the room. Before I can right myself, I stumble to my knees and land on smooth, polished tiles with a huff. "Don't hurt her," I gasp, chest heaving. I glance up to find Loretta staring at me, kneeling a few paces away with ties around her bound wrists. The sunlight from the wide balcony makes her pale skin glimmer. Her doe eyes are wide and scared. For herself, for me, I do not know. The Addington Quarters are beautiful; a central room of rugs and lounges and art leads to the balcony, with adjoining closed doors that lead elsewhere. I can hardly focus. My eyes scan the room for the boys. Finnan is no where to be seen, but Renzo Addington stands a few metres in front of Loretta. Luca Addington stands by the balcony, leaning against the open doorway that leads to it. His head whips towards me as I speak, dark eyes widening slightly in surprise. Other than that, his face remains stoic. "She does not deserve 40 lashings," I force out again, still on my knees, "It will kill her." My eyes meet Renzo's deep blue ones and I know that the desperation shines in my face. The emotion is written all over my trembling body and heaving chest. He stares at me, so still that for a moment I think I have frozen time. And then he blinks, and a slow rush of colour springs to his cheeks. From where he stands, in his deep blue and red colours with his messy hair and heavy gaze, he looks like a beautiful Prince. He looks at me as if I am some beautiful creature that has wandered into his path. As if I am something worth looking at. Loretta whispers my name, urgent and quiet and fearsome, but I ignore it as Renzo slowly walks towards me. He extends his hand, gaze something I cannot decipher, and I take it. His skin is nice and soft and warm. As I stand up, he turns to his brother over by the balcony. Luca does not even watch us. His eyes are on the horizon. Renzo blinks down at me and smiles softly. My heart quivers in its wake, "You are the Divine, are you not?" He knows who I am. I manage a nod. "Loretta- this maid," I do not even glance down at my friend, "Is one of the best in the palace. She is kind, and if she has wronged you, then surely there must be good reason." Something flashes in Renzo's eyes at that, but I hardly notice it, "Please give her a lighter punishment. 40 lashings will kill her, Lord Addington." He smiles at the title. And then looks back to Luca Addington. "Luca," He calls to his brother, voice light and soft. Luca glances over at his name, but says nothing, "I think that you have been too cruel in your punishment. 40 lashings is too much for this young maid. You will let her go, brother, please." Luca blinks once, eyebrows raising in surprise or confusion. He narrows his eyes at his younger brother, clearly shocked and unimpressed with the recent turn of events. I hold my breath, waiting for him to deny the request. He is the cruel brother, after all. Renzo simply stares at Luca, still as death in the corner, and waits for him to react. Eventually, Luca kicks off the wall and slowly makes his way over to Loretta. He wears all white; white trousers and a white loose shirt. His entire body seems to tremble with barely restrained anger, darkness, fire. Loretta watches him approach her not with fear in her eyes, but confusion. She must be confused that he is letting her go, when Luca was so desperate to punish her earlier and watch from his spot by the balcony. Renzo glances back down at me as Luca crouches beside Loretta and begins untying the cloth at her wrist. I do not hear the words his deep voice murmurs to her, because Renzo speaks instead. "Your friend will be released, and I will tell Luca to leave it be," His smile is soft, and, dare I say it, flirtatious, "You are very brave for finding your way up here, Divine-" "Her name is Fayre," Luca's deep voice is quiet, but the steel in it carries. Both Renzo and I glance over in surprise. Loretta stands beside Luca, her shoulder almost brushing against his arm. She seems not to cower from the young Lord, but instead into him. Luca's eyes are a deep dirty brown, and they shine with a darkness I feel rumble in my very bones. I did not know he had taken notice of my name. Renzo looks away from his glaring brother and blinks back down at me. I almost lean into his chest, "Yes, but Divine sounds so much lovelier, doesn't it?" I try to remember how to breathe.

unrequited

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brajeshupadhyay · 4 years

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One of the most telling human stories to result from the COVID-19 outbreak and the resulting nationwide lockdown is that of stranded migrant workers. But theirs isn't a new story; it's taken a pandemic for urban India to take note of an issue that has remained an unseen aspect of the country's economy for much of its contemporary history. P Sainath, founder of People's Archive of Rural India (PARI) and Ramon Magsaysay Award recipient, has chronicled the migrant condition for several decades. In an interview, he details the current situation of workers, and the possible way forward. Recently, 16 workers from MP were killed under a train in their sleep in Aurangabad. What does it say about us that our first reaction is to question why the dead workers were sleeping on the tracks, and not those who pushed them to walk home? How many English publications even bothered to give names of the workers crushed under the train? They just had to go faceless, and nameless. That is our attitude towards the poor. If it had been a plane crash, you would have helplines giving information. Even if there had been 300 killed in the crash, their names would appear in the newspapers. But 16 poor guys from Madhya Pradesh, eight of them Gond Adivasis, who gives a shit? They were walking along those railway lines as a guide to home — to a station from where they hoped to get a train home. They slept on the tracks because they were exhausted and probably believed there were no trains plying on those lines. With a workforce as huge as the one in India, what do you think of the communication of governments to workers? We gave a nation of 1.3 billion human beings four hours to shut down their lives. MG Devasahayam, one of our legendary civil servants, had said, "A small infantry brigade being pushed into a major action is given more than four hours notice." Whether or not we agree with the migrant workers, the rationale in leaving was absolutely sound. They know — and every hour we are proving — how untrustworthy, inconsiderate and cruel their governments, factory owners and middle-class employers like us are. And we are proving that with laws to restrict their freedom of movement. You created panic. You sent the country into complete chaos with millions on the highway. We could have easily converted the marriage halls, schools and colleges and community centres that were shut down into shelter homes for migrants and homeless. We declared star hotels into quarantine centres for people returning from abroad. When we arrange trains for the migrants, we charge them full fare. Then we put in AC trains and Rajdhani class fares of Rs 4,500. To make it worse, you say the tickets can be booked online, assuming they all have smartphones. Some of them buy those tickets. But in Karnataka, they cancel them because the chief minister meets the builders, who say the slaves are escaping. What you are witnessing is the quelling of an anticipated slave rebellion. We have always had one standard for the poor, and one for others. Even though, when you list essential services, you are finding out that it is only the poor people who are essential, apart from doctors. Many of the nurses are not well-off. Besides them, there are sanitation workers, ASHA workers, aanganwadi workers, electricity workers, power sector workers, and factory workers. Suddenly you are finding how inessential the elite are to this country. Migration has happened for decades. And their condition was terrible even before the lockdown. How do you see the way we treat our migrant workers in general? There are many kinds of migrants. But you have to understand the class distinctions of migration. I was born in Chennai. I did my higher education in Delhi, where I lived for four years. I then migrated to Mumbai, and I have been living here for 36 years. Each shift I made benefited me because I come from a particular class and caste. I have social capital and networks. There are long-term migrants, those who leave from A to B and remain permanently in B. Then there are seasonal migrants. For example, the sugarcane workers in Maharashtra who migrate to Karnataka for five months and very significantly vice versa — work there and go back to their villages. There are migrants in Kalahandi who go to Raipur during tourist season and pull rickshaws. There are those who go from Koraput in Odisha to the brick kilns of Vizianagaram in Andhra Pradesh for some months. There are other groups, too — but the people we should be most concerned with are what some of us call footloose migrant workers. The footloose migrant has no clear idea of a final destination. They will come with a contractor and work at a construction site in Mumbai for 90 days. At the end of that period, they have nothing. The contractor will then put them in touch with someone in some other part of Maharashtra, and bus them there. And that goes on indefinitely. That is a wretched life with total, unending insecurity. They are in millions. When did the state of migrant workers begin to worsen? Migrations have taken place for more than a century. But they have exploded in the past 28 years. The 2011 Census shows us that between 2001 and 2011, India saw its highest migrant flows — in our independent history. The 2011 Census noted that for the first time since 1921, the number of people urban India added to its population was higher than the number of people rural India added to its population. The growth of rate of population is much smaller in urban areas, yet you have more people added to urban India’s population. Go back and search for a panel discussion or interview with experts on television fully dedicated to these facts of the 2011 Census. How many discussed the migrant labourers and the intensity with which migrations happened from rural to urban, rural to rural, and so on? Any discussion around migration is incomplete without rural distress, which is at the root of migration, right? We smashed agriculture, and millions of livelihoods collapsed. Every other livelihood in the countryside has been savaged as well. Handlooms and handicrafts together are the biggest employers in the country after agriculture. Boatmen, fishermen, toddy tappers, toy makers, weavers, dyers; one after the other, they are going under like ninepins. What option did they have? We are wondering if the migrant workers will come back to cities. Why did they come here in the first place? I do believe the substantial number of migrant workers will come back to the cities. It will take a long time perhaps. But we have long ago destroyed the options they had in villages, ensuring our army of cheap labour. How do you view the proposed relaxations of labour laws in several states? First, it is an undermining of the Constitution and existing laws by ordinance. Second, it is an issuance of a bonded labour proclamation by ordinance. Third, it actually sets back the gold standard on working hours by 100 years. The most basic thing is every convention on labour in the world has respected the eight-hour work day. Look at the Gujarat notification. It says that no overtime will be paid to the workers. The Rajasthan government provides for overtime pay for extra hours, but with a limit of 24 hours a week. The workers will work 12 hours a day for the straight six days. All of these things have been done quoting exemptions and exceptions in the Factories Act. It says the maximum number of hours a worker can be asked to work — including overtime — is 60 hours. At 12 hours a day, these are coming to 72. More importantly, the workers have no say whether they want to do the extra hours or not. There is an assumption that productivity goes up with longer working hours. But it goes against many studies done in history. A lot of factories in the past century adopted the 8-hour day because their surveys showed them that productivity dropped off strongly in the extra-long hours because of fatigue and exhaustion. Regardless of that, it is an attack on basic human rights. It is an enslavement of labour. The states are essentially acting as a contractor, dalal procuring bonded labour for the corporations. Be sure this will affect the weakest sections — Dalits, Adivasis and women — the most. Ninety-three percent of the workers in India have no rights that they are able to enforce anyway because they work in the informal sector. You are trying to say, "Let us destroy the rights of the remaining seven percent as well". The states are arguing that investment will come with the change in labour laws. But investment comes to places where there are also better infrastructure, better conditions and generally a stable society. If Uttar Pradesh had been any of that, it would not be the state from where largest number of workers migrate across India. What could be the consequences of this move? Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh have suspended all labour laws for three years, barring three or four laws that they cannot get around because of the constitutional and legal complexities. You are saying it doesn't matter how miserable the conditions are, the labourers have to work. You are dehumanising people and are saying that they are not entitled to the rights of ventilation, toilets and breaks. This is an ordinance by chief ministers and there is no legislative process behind this. What do we need to do going forward? You absolutely need to improve the conditions of labour in the country. The pandemic affects them the way it does because of the gigantic inequalities in our society. What we are doing is a violation of very many international labour conventions that we are party to. BR Ambedkar saw this clearly. He understood that it wasn’t just about government that we have to talk. We have to talk about workers being at the mercy of business. The states are suspending laws that he helped bring in, that he laid the grounds for. We have a labour department in state governments. What should its role be? The role of the labour department in the state should be to protect the rights of the labourers. But you have a union labour minister who is also appealing to the workers to listen to the corporations. You want something to change, you have to change your social contract. If you cannot address one of the most unequal societies on the planet, you can’t do anything about it. It will get worse — and very rapidly. Most of the workers going back home are young, and angry. Are we sitting on a volcano? The volcano is exploding. We are trying to not look at it. See the hypocrisy of the governments, media, factory owners and us as a society. Till 26 March, we never knew about the migrant labourer. Suddenly, we see millions of them in the streets. And we feel the pinch because we have lost our services. We didn’t give a damn until March 26. We didn't think of them as human beings with equal rights. There is an old saying: When the poor become literate, the rich lose their palanquin bearers. Suddenly, we lost our palanquin bearers. How do the migrations particularly affect women and children? It is particularly devastating for women and children. Wherever there is contraction of nutrition, women and girl children are the biggest sufferers. And they are incredibly more vulnerable in health terms. There are ways young girls suffer that rarely are thought about let alone mentioned. Millions of girls in schools across the country are entitled to free sanitary napkins — suddenly the schools are shut, no alternatives provided for. So millions are returning to unhygienic alternatives What about the difficulties of migrant workers walking back home? Migrant workers have often walked long distances. For example, the migrant workers walk back to South Rajasthan from their factory or middle-class employers in Gujarat. But they did that in different circumstances. They walk 40 kilometres, stop at a dhaba or a tea stall, work there, and get a meal in return. In the morning, they will leave. Next big bus station — they do the same. That is how they earn their way back home. With all of those places closed, they are exposed to dehydration and hunger, diarrhoea and other diseases. What should we do in the future to improve their condition? A complete delinking and breaking with the path of development we have chosen, and a massive attack on inequality. The sufferings of the migrant workers arise from their unequal situation. You cannot do it without realising the importance of "justice for all: Social, economic, and political…" Embedded in your Constitution. And it is not an accident that social and economic precede political. I think there was a clear sense of priority in those people who wrote it. Your Constitution tells you the way. The Indian elite and government really think that we can go back to business as usual, and that belief is going to lead to incredible oppression, suppression and violence.

http://sansaartimes.blogspot.com/2020/05/urban-india-didnt-care-about-migrant.html

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