“She always responds with empathy. She meets anger with empathy. She meets hate with empathy. She’ll take the time to imagine what happened to a person when they were 5 or 6 years old. And she’s made me a more empathetic person. I had a very fractured relationship with my father. Before he died, she made me remember things I didn’t want to remember. She made me remember the good times.”
When team Voltron is split up by a wormhole, Lance is thrown onto an icy and desolate moon. After two weeks of waiting, he reluctantly realizes he can’t stay put any longer if he’s going to survive. Across the universe, the other paladins manage to regroup, but they’re missing a critical link: the heart of team Voltron.
Set after season 1 because I think that Lance got absolutely cheated in season 2, this fic follows the Blue Paladin and his journey across the stars to find home.
Death is inescapable. There comes a certain point in a young person’s life–usually when they leave childhood behind–that this is somewhat accepted, tucked away, ultimately known but not realized. It’s not usually until much, much later in life that death becomes more tangible.
Defenders of the universe know no such luxury.
In the few months that Lance had been in space, he’d had some harrowing experiences, sure. But staring at the sickly purple barrier of the Galra force-field that had cut off any chance of escaping caused a sensation he wasn’t quite prepared for. He felt hollow, staring at the massive battalion they’d have to defeat to stay alive. He knew it was impossible, yet he knew he’d try anyway. His heart sank, and his gut soured, and he just knew. Lance knew that he would fight until he couldn’t anymore, fight until he died. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t think of a way out, a way to lift the team’s spirits. A joke bubbled in his chest but died on his tongue like a desert wasteland.
In terms of disagreeing with J/B as a canon romance, the position of “no romantic feelings on either side” is more difficult to comprehend, in terms of literary analysis.
(IOW: How much of the text from Jaime’s and Brienne’s chapters do you have to ignore, distort, or willfully explain away, to think there are no feels happening?)
But you know what bugs me a lot more?
It’s the position in which Brienne is in love with Jaime…and the most logical conclusion of her arc is to die to save him from Lady Stoneheart. Y'know, because she couldn’t save Renly, so dying for Jaime would make up for that. That grosses me out.
If you think Brienne’s scheduled for death because you just can’t imagine how a nice person can stay alive any longer than that in Westeros, well, I have some counter-arguments, but I see where you’re coming from, and I sympathize.
If the argument is that Brienne “should” die in the LSH conflict because her dying for the man she loves makes the best sense for where her story has already gone…that’s a whole other sort of wrong. That’s where I have a moral objection.
Any character in the ASOIAF universe who’s ever gotten to know Brienne would be perfectly unsurprised to find out she sacrificed her life to save someone dear to her. (The surprise, for most, would be that she cared that much about Jaime.) This is not a character who needs to experience a moral overhaul to be willing to die so someone else can live. She’s already at that position. Her conflict is not “Oh no I’m going to die, poor me!” It’s “Oh no, I haven’t rescued Sansa and I’ll let Jaime down and I can’t take care of Podrick if they kill me.” This is a girl who already thinks her life is only valuable to the extent that she can protect others. And why is that?
She’s a Westerosi noblewoman who’s used to being told she’s hideous. All her life, she’s been taught no one would ever love her except for her lands and titles, and she believes it. She’s still very young, and she’s completely resigned to the idea that romantic love is unavailable to her. Rather than accept a toxic marriage of convenience with some controlling old man who doesn’t understand how lucky he is to have her, she sets out to serve someone worthy of her loyalty. (Renly is a piece of shit, but starry-eyed teenage Brienne has only seen his nicer side, so there she goes.) She’s used to being roundly mocked whenever she tries to act like a lady, so she walks away from the pretty gowns and dancing and picks up a suit of armor and sword. She joined Renly’s army because she honestly believed that was the place where her life would have meaning and someone would appreciate her talents.
And here’s the thing: she beats herself up for not saving Renly, but really, she was a much better ally than he deserved. He had no business claiming the throne ahead of his brother, and he mocked Brienne behind her back. She would have died for him had it been possible to do so, but it’s a good thing she lived to tell about that shadow. She didn’t fail him. He failed her.
So now she’s carrying around the guilt of having failed to stop an act of magic that was specifically designed to be unstoppable by any human combatant, and also the guilt of having outlived Catelyn Stark, as if anyone could have saved her lady from an entire castle full of Freys and Boltons violating guest right. Was she supposed to have been in two or three places at once? Was she expected to know what nobody in the Stark-Tully force knew about Walder Frey and Roose Bolton’s arrangement with Tywin Lannister? Was she supposed to be unarmed, unarmored, and unprepared at that wedding feast, and still get her lady to safety? Was she supposed to know more about Arya Stark’s whereabouts than Catelyn or Robb knew by then? Should she have teleported down to the Red Keep before the Lannisters had a chance to force Sansa into marriage? And then teleport back up to the Twins before the Red Wedding? What exactly does this girl have to apologize for?
So now she has that burden of survivor’s guilt on one side, and Jaime’s friendship complete with priceless sword on the other side, both pushing her to bust her ass and lose her mind for her quest to look after Ned Stark’s daughter. I should note that she still hasn’t found Sansa in the book version. I think that girl would appreciate a protector who really doesn’t want anything from her except for the honor of being at her service. (For Sansa’s sake, it’s a good thing Brienne was far away from the Red Wedding, as she would have inevitably been part of the body count.) In Brienne’s mind, showing up for Sansa is as much about doing right by Jaime as helping the Starks. She’s conflated the two interests into one concern. “For her lady mother’s sake. And for yours.”
Now that she’s been captured by Zombie Catelyn and her goons, how is this a good time for her to die? She already thinks her life is worthless unless she’s protecting someone else; and no one will ever appreciate the joy of her company in life as opposed to the gift of her death; why does she need to be proven right? Why does the ugly butch girl need to die for the handsome rich man before she even gets a chance to rescue the pretty femme girl? Why does Jaime need to be the man she dies for?
On Memorial Day 2017, I would like to celebrate by looking back at our very first fallen veterans. In the 1860s, Revolutionary War veterans were beginning to disappear for good. Wanting to capture their photographs one last time for history to remember, one photographer set out to photograph the very last survivors he could find alive. This tiny set of 7-8 pictures is all that we have left of this remarkable generation. Some of these men were there at the battles of Lexington and Concord, one was a drummer boy for General Washington himself, and others fought and suffered injuries for their service; all of this nearly 240 years ago! Please reblog to share these little seen photographs because I honestly think Americans need and deserve to see their history with their own eyes in order to even begin to comprehend how real it was.
You guys have been with us through good times and bad times, offering your support and love through it all and we hope that we can continue to provide you with stories you’ll enjoy for a very long time!
And with that, we have decided to officially give you guys the name “Dreamers”. Ajané came up with the name a while ago, but she was too shy to use it much before. ^^
Since it’s a special occasion, we have a little gift for you! It’s a special short story written by Egle about one of our most elusive and yet to be seen characters, though you’ll have heard him being mentioned quite a bit before - the God of Chaos.
So please enjoy and thank you for everything!
A man sits in a glass cage. He smiles at his captors, eyes sparkling with something they can’t quite place.
“We got him. I can’t believe we actually got him.” One of the younger ones says. He sighs and as his whole body shakes itself of tension, he smiles.
Even with the man finally in captivity though, he can’t make himself really face him. Those eyes. Just a single glimpse into them was enough to haunt him forever.
“So much for the infamous God Killer.” Another man roars with laughter. He won’t ever admit it, but for all his incredible strength, for all his power… he can’t look the God Killer in the eye either.
What he saw reflected back at him is something he would prefer to ignore forever.
“Iah. Mot. Do not let your guard down. He may be in a cage, but do not fool yourself. Whatever the reason is, he is merely allowing us to hold him.” The eldest of the three gods quietly explains. Not for a second does he look away from the cage, or from the man who continues to peacefully smile at them.
“But Koios…” Iah looks at his elder with a frown. Koios smiles, although his eyes remain locked onto the cage.
“I wonder. Perhaps he is simply humoring us this time?”
The man behind the glass cocks his head to the side. His smile turns into a smirk and the three gods freeze.
Can he hear us? The same thought rings through their minds.
“Escaping that should be impossible. After what we went through to create the cage, he shouldn’t be able to get out. Not unless someone lets him out.” Mot’s eyes scanned the edges of the cage. Finding no flaws in design, he turns back to his companions.
“So what do we do now?”
“We leave him here to rot for the rest of eternity.”
“Do you truly think that this is enough?” A fourth voice speaks up. Dread rises through them, like a boot suddenly pushing down on their chests. The air around them feels heavy.
Iah grabs onto Koios’ arm. He half hides behind the older god, his frail form suddenly appearing much smaller as his whole body quivers behind the unmoving god.
Koios’ stands as he had before. Like a stone statue he doesn’t move, nor does he blink. If not for his wide eyes, he might not appear affected by the new voice at all.
Mot steps forward, he practically growls at the man behind the glass. He steps to the side, just enough to become cover to the two smaller gods, but not enough to keep them from being able to see.
“As amusing as this little break has been, I really do have to go.”
The trio watch as the dreaded God Killer stands up and dusts himself off with a smile. His smile is charming and under different circumstances, on a different face, one might even call it friendly.
But his eyes, oh his eyes. They’re so deep and dark and draw you until you can’t move. They make you feel so weak and small. Like a speck of dust in the wind.
It’s like staring into the abyss and it staring right back at you.
The God Killer chuckles as Mot steps back, closer to Koios and Iah, hiding them behind him completely.
They blink and see the cage empty.
“What?! Where is he?!” Mot looks around the room. He cautiously takes a step forward, then another. Shadows gather around him, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
“Where di-” The God Killer stands before him. So close Mot can almost count his eyelashes. So close, so close to the one being they cannot kill. Mot can feel the immense pressure of his aura and he finds that he can’t move.
Though a brief thought enters his mind that perhaps it’s the fear keeping him frozen.
“I would suggest you try harder next time, but I would prefer there not be a next time.” The God Killer smiles. And in a blink of an eye, he’s gone again.
Mot’s knees give out and he hears a pair of footsteps rushing to him. His ears ring and his heart beats wildly, his whole body shakes uncontrollably.
What the fuck with Americans trying to glamorize high school years? Put a filter on, add some grain, take photographs of young lovers kissing each other and running around in a forest, make films of group of friends driving in the countryside and siblings enjoying the sun on a boat. Light a cigarette, eat snacks that go well with alcohol, somehow the reason behind is just some dumb boy dumped our girl. No. Take off that filter, this isn’t 90s anymore, iPhones in everyone’s hands have clearer vision. Teenage years isn’t only about the social drama and occasional sadness that seem to take over your life. In fact, it revolves around what the fuck am I gonna do with my life, with my parents pushing me to study law and the craving of a gaze from a boy I’ll never actually love on the top. The truth is, if teenage years were dessert you’d throw the tasteless cake ornaments away and dig the frosting to eat the plain cake. Indie rock will never play in the background as you kiss your lover on the shore and fireworks color the night sky and camera won’t romantically lose focus. In reality, life’s not romantic. Teenagers are dreamy and we like to deafen ourselves with loud music but we’re not romantic. That was childhood. In high school years you get closer to college and life gets more complicated and real. Those are the years you lose someone from your family for the first time and start to notice that people are dying one by one, so you realize your parents aren’t gonna be a around forever. You start to study more and read more and understand more and even pay attention to politics a little. You regret kissing not kissing, loving not loving, speaking up shutting up, isolation socializing because teenage years are a giant ball of mess, it has knots you will eventually give up solving. What I’m trying to say to those 25, 30, 45, 60 year old photographers and filmmakers who get applause by their peers for perfectly capturing the youth daze, that wasn’t a deep take on the way a teenager’s mind work, that was nostalgia.
A/N - Another random original fic, another awful title that doesn’t really reflect the story at all! So yeeeeeah, this was yet another product of an insanely self-indulgent idea I had, that my lovely pals @mandywritesrtthings and @howmanypointsisthatdick both encouraged me to actually write after I spilled the beans to them. So hopefully someone enjoys this long ass fic! Oh, and just to be 100% clear, the ex-wife and kids mentioned in this fic are NOT Ryan’s IRL wife and kids - they’re fictional because I just wanted Single Dad! Ryan working part-time as model. And I never really mentioned them in detail here, so if you wanna headcanon that Ryan’s ex-wife is a lizard creature and their kids are humanoid-lizard hybrids, be my guest!