Generally a SFW blog! | Age: 30s | Married | Pronouns: she/her | Call me Panda. Sometimes I write. Occasionally I publish to AO3. I dip my toes into many worlds.
Unless otherwise stated as an AO3 exclusive, the links will lead to its Tumblr post. Some current AO3 exclusives may eventually be posted to Tumblr. The main narrators are listed in italics, other main characters before the semicolon; other characters with at least a speaking role (or more than one mention) after. All fics are short-stories under 7k words unless stated otherwise. Everything is SFW; suitable for all audiences unless indicated otherwise.
đ means a romance story.
đ means friendship that could be seen as romantic.
đ means platonic and/or familial relationship.
đ means other themes are the main focus.
𧥠means a mature rating due to potentially triggering topics (only one of these in all my works).
Fire Emblem: Three Houses:
Short Sweet Stand Alones
Until The Bitter End:Â đđ Byleth, Dimitri
Dearest Companion:Â đ Ingrid, Sylvain
Four Seasons: đ Ferdinand, Dorothea; Ludwig, Manuela
Longer Stories and their Flashback Excerpts
Clear Sky (AO3 only, 16.7k words): đ Jeralt, Byleth; Sothis, Edelgard, Claude, Dimitri, Alois, Kostas, Rhea, Seteth, Manuela, Hanneman, all named class members of each of the three houses
Rusalka (AO3 only, 128k+ words, work in progress one chapter from completion): đđ𧥠Dorothea, Manuela, OC: Camellia, Ferdinand; Seteth, Flayn, Yuri, Constance, Lorenz, Caspar, Bernadetta, Ingrid, Linhardt, Petra
The White Heron Cup (Rusalka excerpt): đ Dorothea, Ferdinand; Alois, Manuela, Hilda, Lorenz
A Brush With Death (Rusalka excerpt): đ Manuela; Seteth, Flayn
The Tales of Garreg Mach Collection (all AO3 only, 14.8k words total):
The Tale of Ingrid & Mercedes: đ Mercedes, Ingrid
The Tale of Rodrigue: đ Rodrigue; Alois, Felix
The Tale of Ashe: đ Ashe, Dedue; Annette
The Tale of Sylvain: đ Sylvain
The Tale of Felix: đđ Felix, Annette, Sylvain; Ingrid, Mercedes, Rodrigue, Gilbert
Haunted, AKA The Tale of Byleth: đđ Byleth, Dimitri; Ashe, Ingrid, Flayn, Rodrigue, Felix, Sylvain, Alois, Annette, Mercedes, Gilbert, Seteth, Catherine, Dedue, Lorenz
Stardew Valley:
That Summer, That Night: đ Elliott, OC: Nicole; Leah, Gunther, Penny
Dinner Date: đ Alex, OC: Sara; Emily, Gus
Movie Night: đ Harvey, OC: Peach (created by mmarydee on AO3); Emily, Shane, Jas, Alex
At Last: đ Harvey, OC: Jerusha (created by purpleandgreen13); Maru
As Ships Sailing Past At Night: đđ Harvey, OC: Elle (created by elleasinwoods); Linus, Maru, Evelyn, Emily, Penny, Gus
First Impression: đ Leah, Elliott; Emily, Lewis, Harvey
Drops of Prince Rupert: đ Emily, Clint; Gus
Nothing Ever Happened: đ Haley, Sam, Jodi
I Guess Thatâs Why They Call It The Blues:Â đđ Elliott, Clint; Emily, Gus
Lady of the Sciences and of the Sweet Pea: đđ Maru, Leo, Harvey; Linus, Emily, Jas, Vincent, OC: Kim
Thereâs Always A Bigger Fish:Â đ Maru, Sebastian; Demetrius, Sam
Rain, Smoke, and Fish:Â đ Willy, Sebastian
Doctor Pringle:Â đ Jodi, Vincent, Harvey; Sam, Maru
Addicts Anonymous: đ OC: Kim, Shane, Pam, Sebastian
Our Friend Linus:Â đ Linus
Evelyn:Â đ Evelyn; George, Clara, Alex
I Was Your Man:Â đ Lewis, Marnie; Marlon, Gil
Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic:
Force Like a Hurricane: đđ Jolee, Carth, Revan; Bastila, Mission, Juhani
Retelling and Excerpts
Book One: A Present Bind (AO3 only, ongoing publishing to be 100k+ words by mid-August, work in progress): đđ Evari, Carth, Bastila; Mission, Zaalbar, Canderous, T3-M4, Juhani
In the event that Carth was sick, who do you think would pilot the Ebon Hawk?
I'm thinking Revan, or maybe Bastila.
Yeah that makes sense. I could also see Canderous doing it, at least as copilot if Bastila isn't there. I'm guessing everyone on the Hawk has some piloting experience... Save for Mission. And idk about Zalbaar and Jolee. I'm not sure I would trust Jolee cause he probably hasn't touched a ship in forever lol
Anyway Carth being sick would probably cause some chaos anyway now I kinda want to see itđ€Ł
Yeah my guy was initially MIA, thus why we were boarded before anyone realized they werenât there.
Now Iâm imagining the Ebon Hawk getting ready to leave some place, then the crew being like âwait⊠whereâs Carth?â bc theyâre just so used to him being on top of pre-flight checks.
Itâs a good metaphor tho, because the situation is never going to get better if you donât eventually pull the door. And afterwards, no matter what the damage was, youâll have a working cabinet, whatever plates you could salvage, and a place to start putting new plates.
I am here to tell you (information that you might already know) that in SWTOR, you can date Revanâs descendant Theron.
And Darth Marr and Theronâs mom Satele totally donât have anything going on.
knowing revan has descendants in swtor while not personally subscribing to swtor's canon about revan's gender makes the idea of them meeting rlly funny to me
just watched awe again today and jack pacing going "think like the whelp think like the whelp" got to me more than usual... like. the whole series up to here was will being mentored by jack, will going "what would jack do" and seeing that flip of the coin goes hard
- Nominations open: September 6, 2026
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- Assignments go out: October 12, 2026
- Works due: December 13, 2026
- Works revealed: December 20, 2026
- Creators revealed: December 27, 2026
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or
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The exchange is an 18+ event (NSFW content IS allowed this year so that means all participants must be over 18 years old).
my instagram explore page loves showing me those like erotic dark romance novel tiktoks and i really have to wonder: why do all these straight women desperately want to fuck a mafia boss
Sexual fantasies are, by their very nature, transgressive. Yes, even the fluffy, romantic ones. As long as general culture remains negative about sex and sexuality in any form that isn't cishet procreative sex within the confines of matrimony with the woman not as an equal actor but an object sex is performed onto, this is going to remain true.
And the thing about fantasies is that our brains like to take the things we crave the most and mix them up with our fears, anxieties, pain, and trauma into a melange of, sometimes, truly epic levels of fuckery.
But here's the secret - things we fantasize about, from the most wholesome to the bizarre to seriously fucked up? They are very, very often NOT what we literally want.
Being into dubcon or noncon doesn't mean you actually want to be raped or rape. Being into monsters doesn't make you a zoophile. And fantasizing about violent, obsessive men doesn't mean you wouldn't run as far the fuck away from a man like that the second one of them set their sights on you.
If you're really interested in the subject, I recommend reading My Secret Garden by Nancy Friday, a compilation of anonymously submitted women's sexual fantasies. And, as it turns out, women fantasize about a lot of really violent, uncomfortable, and just plain screwed up stuff.
And, for most of them, even when they don't actively realize it, it's about reclamation. Of fear, of trauma, of loss of power. It's about THEMSELVES and how THEY feel. As weird as it's gonna sound, the men featured in those fantasies don't really matter, they're just a vessel, a manifestation of the extreme version of what you're dealing with and/or crave. A safe, cathartic way to experience something profoundly unsafe, unwise, and terrifying.
For women fantasizing about criminals, villains, monsters, and anti-heroes, it's very often about the idea that someone like that - intense, violent, with single-minded focus, and immense power - would love her, want her, always put her first, go against all his instincts/training for you without a second thought and be a clear and present danger to everyone but warmth and safety for her and only her, and burn the world itself down for hurting her in even the slightest of ways. It's a sexual version of the fantasy of having a pet tiger, one that would never, ever attack you or hurt you in any way.
And just like the people who want to boop the forbidden snoot, the women fantasizing about their fantasy Mafia Boss Lover are very well aware of the fact that 1) men like that don't actually exist, 2) the criminal world of their fantasy has all but nothing to do with reality, and 3) that the thing they're actually fantasizing about is being loved, wanted, and safe... just in a REALLY intense, exaggerated way. And, let's not mince words, there's also often a more or less strong D/s dynamics at play in the scenario, too.
Now, you can choose to be judgy bitches about it (goodness knows plenty of you in the replies, comments, and tags are), in which case I would suggest you examine why you're feeling such a profound need to shame women for enjoying themselves in their own little world, or you can apply the YKINMKATO mantra and understand that straight women, living in the constant state of preyhood, sometimes consciously or subconsciously reclaim power over that situation through transgressive sexual fantasies.
Also, fuck this idea that queer people only fantasize about healthy and wholesome relationships, romantic, sexual, or otherwise, as if at least half of Tumblr isn't simping for, oh, for example, Hannibal fucking Lecter. Do you have ANY idea how many Mafia and Thug BL content there is out there?! FFS, Tom of Finland, a WWII veteran who fought against Nazis, drew art of exaggeratedly masculine men in Nazi uniforms in pornographic situations as a way to dissociate himself from those traumas and fascists themselves as far back as the 1950s!
So yeah. Less judgement, and more taking some responsibility for curating your online experience if seeing someone's kink truly offends you this much.
#humans#there's also something here about healing from repressive cultures and purity culture#by fantasizing outside of what's Allowed#fantasizing about a sweet small town hallmark movie guy who looks like he'd be good with kids is somewhat tainted#because that's what was expected of you. forced on you#purity culture is about conforming to what's allowed at the expense of actual desire and pleasure#the thing about a taboo fantasy is that it's YOUR fantasy#and like dubcon/noncon is about the desire thing as well#what if someone WANTED you#it's not about a one to one translation of the thing to real lifeâit's something that has meaning inside the context of your inner world#when you grow up with purity culture the conventional nice vanilla fantasies can FEEL gross and scary and coercive#in evangelical purity culture desire is BAD and you shouldn't pursue what you Want sexually#sex is about emulating a social norm whether you like it or not#so the tame and 'vanilla' fantasies often have this coercive feeling and it's very hard to explore desire and pleasure like that#therefore lots of people fantasize about being fucked by an alien or mafia boss or werewolf or vampire or something else safely imaginary#thats my read of the situation anyway#nazi mention
I'm going to try to explain this without sounding completely deranged but like, okay: IMO, there are two kinds of fantasies. let's call them horses and unicorns.
a horse fantasy is something that is theoretically possible. I do not currently own a horse, and the reality of owning a horse would involve boring stuff like paying for its food and mucking out its stall, but it is something I could do in real life. like, horses exist and can be owned by humans. lots of fantasies can fall into this category: traveling to a foreign country, living in a cute house with just you and a cat, winning a marathon, basically anything that is technically achievable even if it would be difficult to do so in real life.
a unicorn fantasy is something that is definitely (or almost definitely) impossible. I do not currently own a unicorn, and there is no version of reality where I could own a unicorn, because unicorns are not real. the actual logistical issues that might arise from owning a unicorn, like paying for its food or mucking out its stall, are completely immaterial because it's not something that could ever actually happen. and like, it's in my brain! I control it! I can imagine a unicorn that only eats marshmallows and shits potpourri if I want to!
I think the disconnect comes in when people assume that a unicorn fantasy is actually a horse fantasy. to use the tiger example from upthread: you can own a tiger. you can't have a completely domesticated tiger that would never hurt you, not even by accident. so saying "I want a pet tiger" is a unicorn fantasy, because everything necessary for that fantasy to work (it being completely domesticated and incapable of harming you) are not things you can have in real life.
now, serial killers/war criminals/normal criminals/etc. are all things that exist. and there are definitely people in relationships with them in real life! so it's tempting to assume that something like "I want to fuck a serial killer" is a horse fantasy: something you would want to do, and could do, if given the opportunity.
but for the vast majority of people, that's not the fantasy. the rest of the fantasy ("he's a serial killer, BUT he only kills bad people and he's nice to me and is both able and willing to protect me from literally anything and has sex exactly the way I want to because he magically knows what I want because, again, this is happening in my brain") is what makes it a unicorn.
This is obviously not exclusively a cishet woman thing but cishet women do deal with a different flavour of sexual repression than queer folks (not better or worse, just a different flavour!) and those fantasies really are about power, just not how you think.
Again, not exclusively cishet women, and also sometimes you just think a scenario would be hot if it happens within your mind where you are 100% in control and can just stop if it feels bad. That's also fine! That's normal! We need to stop shaming people for their romantic or sexual fantasies, especially those of us who clearly have no idea what a fantasy is and what it does for the person indulging in it đ
A lot of the "you're supposed to like X" cultural baggage is, IMHO, effectively dubcon with the coercion outsourced to some other actor, usually society, but with the "love interest" willingly profiting from that coercion, at your expense.
The effect is something like when you've got a persistent unwanted suitor doing "romantic" shit like sending you flowers at work and lovebombing you and otherwise making a big deal out of his feelings and your coworkers or your family or your friends are all encouraging you to give in because "it's so sweet" or "he wants you so badly, it's cruel of you to deny him" or "I wish my boyfriend did that for me, you're so lucky" and none of them will understand that a) what they want isn't what you want and b) the persistence, the control, the disregard for your wishes all make him the romantic equivalent of food that's been pissed on---and neither does he.
The whole effect is viscerally uncomfortable, and even the echoes or memories of coercion taint the whole concept.
And I think a key factor in the fantasy is a variant of that unicorn situation up above, to wit:
Your church, family, repressive upbringing, and/or purity-focused socialization will never approve of you dating a mob boss or a monster
Therefore
Your church, family, repressive upbringing, and/or purity-focused socialization will never force you to date a mob boss or a monster.
Therefore
Your fantasy about the mob boss or the monster is effectively free from the coercion you're used to in your real life and trying to escape.
It is, ironically, coercion-repellent, directed at the existing dynamics of coercion that might be present in your life or in your past.
This is why we need to kill the idea that the 'bad boy' archetype in movies and TV is the reason women get abused and assaulted.
Because it's fiction. And the fact is, the clean cut, responsible boy next door is just as likely to treat his girlfriend like crap as the one who smokes and dresses all black. And a hell of a lot more likely to get away with it, because, oh, he would never do that, he's so nice to everyone!
KotOR novelization readers, this chapterâs got...
Our favorite stowaway
Dad mode Carth
Context for Carth and Bastilaâs banter about the Jedi entering the Mandalorian Wars
Revanasi friendshipping, and
Dramatic irony
Hope you enjoy!
Title: Carth
Word Count: 2,268
Word had it Eva was making excellent progress with her Jedi training, mastering in weeks what others couldnât in years. Carth allowed himself a modicum of hope heâll finally be leaving Dantooine, and sooner than he first believed.
He still slept poorly, but eventually he grew used to his bunkmates. Zaalbar stomping his feet against the footboard was no longer an issue. And after so many âhuntingâ excursions with Canderous, Carth was slowly getting used to having him around. He couldnât fully trust him, of course. But there was something to be said of having a personal standard for a true Mandalorian, being willing to turn on his own kind in some crazy notion of correcting them.
Carth stirred one morning, barely awake enough to register the sound of small footsteps on grated durasteel floors. Must be Mission going topside to see the sunrise again. Good for her.
It seemed only a second later when he heard screaming.
His eyes shot open and his feet hit the floor. By the time his brain registered what was happening, he was already out the crew quarters, hands splayed against the walls, searching urgently for the sound. It led him through the hall between the galley and cargo hold. Mission was on her knees barely in the cargo hold, attempting to console a little girl with matted golden brown hair and bright blue eyes. She couldnât be older than seven years old.
Wait. How did she get here? And when? Where did she come from? Taris?
The small girl sobbed and raised her arms over her head and body, as ifâ no, she was expecting to be hit or beaten.
Mission grabbed a nutrient bar from the nearest storage container, and waved it in front of the girl. Then she held it still in front of her until the girl finally calmed down enough to slowly take it, never taking her eyes off the Twiâlek. Then she looked up to Carth, wide-eyed and curious.
Mission turned to him. âCarth! I⊠I found her. At first I thought Big Z was dreaming. He said the food stores were depleting faster than they should be, but I thought he had been having late-night cravings. There hadnât been any ripped packages or half-eaten food bars, so I knew it couldnât be pests. Then I heard the footsteps. I put up a stealth field and followed them. I found her, but I spooked her, too.â
That explained the screaming, but nothing else of her origins. He knelt down to say hello. The girl simply raised her arms up again. âNu neeneer nee! Nu neeneer nee!â
It sounded like Mandoâa, but Carth couldnât make out a lick of it.
âI donât know her language either,â said Mission. âBut she keeps repeating âneeneer neeâ.â
âNu neeneer nee.â The girl repeated once more, insistent.
âLet me try talking with her.â
Behind them appeared Eva. Carth absentmindedly ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and he and Mission wordlessly let Eva pass through.
âHello?â Eva started in Basic.
The girl said nothing.
âSuâcuy?â
The girl blinked as if she maybe understood. Then she echoed the word in her garbled tongue.Â
Under an hour later, Eva managed to decipher the girlâs language and learn her name. The phrase she had repeated for Mission was her way of saying ne nynir ni. Donât hit me.
âHer name is Sasha. She says sheâs from here, Dantooine. Sheâs been sleeping in the repair duct and coming out when she gets hungry. Claims this is her home now.â
âBut how did she get here?â Bastila asked impatiently. She and Eva were going to be late to their Jedi training.
âShe ran away from Mandalorians. Two weeks, three weeks ago? I donât know. They werenât her family, but she must have lived with them for a while. It would explain why she understands Mandoâa and speaks it poorly with a sprinkling of Basic.â
âWould her family even remember her?â Mission asked. âShe could have been taken from them years ago.â
âWe can look into it after todayâs lessons.â Bastila assured her. âMaster Nemo maintains a record of the localsâ unresolved petitions. Perhaps her family reported her missing.â
âOr we can have her walk off the ship now.â
âEva!â
âOnly joking, Bastila. Mission, could youââ
âWhat, babysit? I donât know how to entertain a kid!â
âLeave it to me.â The words left his mouth before Carth realized he said them.
With that settled, the Jedi were off. Carth sighed heavily to himself before turning to the young girl.
âSuâcuy, Sasha.â He didnât know much Mandoâa, just enough to goad a Mandalorian. But Sasha seemed inclined to believe Evaâs assurance that he was a friend, or burcâya.
Sasha seated herself in front of him and taught him little games he played along with. He in turn taught her a little game that helped improve her knowledge of Basic words. The only time she put her guard up again was when Canderous finally woke up. As soon as she spotted his tattoo, Sasha placed herself behind Carth, putting him between her and Canderous. Canderous merely grunted then minded his own business in the garage.
Slowly, Sasha became more comfortable, and she wormed her way closer to him. By midday, she was half-asleep in his lap, and allowed him to carefully comb her matted hair, starting at the ends. Carth blinked away a few times when he imagined singed and shriveled hair. Like his nightmares becoming reality again.
Heâs got to get off this planet.
He leaned to grab a nutrient bar for himself, careful not to disturb the child in his lap. Not long after, footsteps clattered up the boarding ramp. Eva was followed by Bastila and an unfamiliar forest green Twiâlek.
âYou said the child is here?â The Twiâlek asked.
Eva nodded. âWe found her this morning. She followed one of us to the ship and had been hiding from Mandalorians since.â
She led the Twiâlek to the cargo hold, and Sasha opened her eyes to the sound. The Twiâlek held up a small holocron in his palm. The first image that appeared was that of a small toddler who looked very similar to Sasha.
The Twiâlek nodded, pleased. âThough you have aged, young sentient, I do believe you are indeed the one I seek. I am here to return you to your father, Rundil ot Sulem.â
Sasha held tightly to Carth, throwing her arms around his neck. âNu neeneer nee?â she asked the Twiâlek.
âNo, he wonât hurt you, Sasha.â Eva assured her in Basic, then repeated the phrase in Mandoâa. âThis is Lur Arka Sulas.â
âI see that Eva was correct about your linguistic difficulties. I am positive that your parents can assist you with that.â The Twiâlek tapped the holocron and a new image appeared. A family of three: father, mother, and a baby in their arms. Sasha pulled away from Carth to look at the image, and cocked her head to the side.
âBuirâe⊠Mama⊠PapaâŠ?â
Lur Arka tried to reach for Sashaâs hand. She pulled away and clung to Carth once more, speaking more panicked gibberish into the crook of his neck.
âNow, now. Calm yourself, child. I will take you home.â
Eva knelt down to their level and looked Sasha in the eye, repeating the Twiâlekâs assurances in Mandoâa. She and Sasha shared a few more phrases, and Carth nodded along when Sasha looked at him. Finally, Sasha pushed away, stood up, and dared take Lur Arkaâs extended hand. âYaim,â she muttered. Home.
âYes. Letâs go home.â Lur Arka turned to Eva. âThank you for your assistance, sentient. I am sure the girlâs parents will be most appreciative of your efforts.â
Lur Arka and Sasha descended the exit ramp. Sasha turned back one more time to look at Carth. She waved her hand. âBye-bye, Car.â
Bye-bye.
âIt was you she followed to the Hawk.â Eva told him. It was all she had time to say before Bastila escorted her back to the enclave.
~
Bastila remained in a less-than pleasant mood since Sashaâs appearance. Apparently Eva had ditched her morning lessons to look into Master Nemoâs records. Sashaâs kidnapping was reported four years ago, and took place soon after the Mandalorians first appeared on Dantooine. Which happened soon after Malachor V.
âThey werenât so aggressive back then.â Eva explained over dinner. âAnd they didnât kill those they raided.â
âMakes sense.â Canderous huffed. âWe spare the ikâaad. Thereâs no honor in killing children or willing captives. Instead we adopt them and raise them as our own.â
Unless youâre burying them alive with their families, Carth thought. And if all Mandalorians raised their children like Sasha had been treated⊠well, itâs a good thing Revan wiped out so many of them at Malachor.
Canderous grunted and dismissed himself to the garage.
âBastila,â Carth dared ask. âDid you ever think about joining all the Jedi who were running off to follow Revan and Malak when they went to fight the Mandalorians?â
She shook her head. âThat was nearly eight years ago. I was barely a padawan; my Battle Meditation hadnât even manifested itself. Yet even then I had the wisdom to obey the will of the Council. Unlike Revan.â She shot a glare at Eva, who merely shrugged.
âI guess. Still, do you ever wonder if things could have been different? Would Revan and Malak still have been corrupted if the Council had supported them instead of dragging its feet?â
She glowered, indignant. âDo not blame their corruption on the Council! Your Republic saw only the threat of the Mandalorians, but the wisdom of the Masters saw beyond the immediate threat.â
It sounded like she was just making excuses. âAnd what did they see, exactly?â
âThere was something lurking out there, something that devoured Revan and Malakâ and many other Jedi. Had the Council sent us all into the unknown, how many more would have fallen?â
âSo youâre saying we should have done nothing? Just let the Mandalorians conquer us unopposed? I mean, the Republic was under attack, and the Order abandoned us!â
âWe did not abandon you!â Bastila snapped. âBut the Council were not about to throw lives away foolishly. In time, we would have aided you against the Mandalorians. But you couldnât wait. Revan and Malak offered a quicker answer, and the Republic chose to walk the easy path rather than the path of wisdom. Now we see the results all around us. You asked me if I think things could have been different? I know they could have! If Revan had only listened to the Council, millions of innocent people would still be alive.â
Carth scoffed. âYeah, right. And every single one of them would be speaking Mandalorian.â
Bastila set down her cleared plate and huffed. âI think weâre done here.â
âFine by me.â
She excused herself to meditate in her crew quarters. Mission and Zaalbar discreetly left the hold as well. That left him with Eva.
âThatâs probably my fault, her attitude.â She confessed.
Strange thing for her to own up to. âShe was that annoyed you skipped your only day of lessons since when you started?â
Eva shook her head. âMaster Vrook was, certainly. This morning didnât help things with Bastila, but no. No, this started last week after I learned Master Zhar knew Revan and Malak personally, and that some of the other Masters did too. They were rather uneasy when I asked about them. No surprise there. Today I asked the chronicler Master Dorak to share his perspective of the Jediâs more recent history. The other masters and some padawans listened in as well. Then Master Vandar made the mistake of asking my opinion on the decision to not enter the Mandalorian Wars.â
A Jedi Master, making a mistake? âAndâŠ? What did you say?â
âI started off by reiterating a few pieces of their story, which they confirmed. How the Mandalorians had been selectively choosing neutral worlds for more than a decade before moving on to Republic targets. How some of their strongest knights found their way to the Jedi because they were refugees, their homeworlds were among the Mandaloriansâ first targets. How Revan as a knight had been asking about taking action against them for years, but only defected after the Republic started fighting back, after investigating a number of battle sites, after presenting this evidence to the Jedi High Council, and after the Jedi still chose to stay out of the wars. I then said if it took the Council so long to not find any additional threat, then err on caution and still not take action after seeing so many territories fall⊠I couldnât say I blamed Revan or Malak for striking out on their own to help the Republic. If I was a Jedi back then, limited to the same information they had, maybe I would have joined them.â
âAnd you said all that to them?â
âSure did.â
At first Carth grinned. Then he chuckled.
âYou called out the Jedi Masters for not helping the Republic, and made them look foolish for it?â
Eva nodded through the biggest smile heâd seen her wear. âYou should have seen Bastila. She looked like she was about to blow a gasket!â
Carth laughed again, and this time Eva joined in and laughed with him. Of course the woman who would shout down two arguing superior officers would be the one to question the past judgement of Jedi Masters and make a good case.
âCanât say Iâve ever met a woman quite like you before. Youâre really something.â
it genuinely melts my brain watching people take sith monologues at face value like theyâre TED talks instead of⊠you know⊠villain speeches.
like. these are not neutral historians. these are not unbiased narrators. these are men who wake up every morning and choose manipulation as a lifestyle.
and yet people hear palpatine whispering into anakinâs ear like âthe jedi are hiding things from you⊠they donât trust youâŠâ and go. wow. compelling. source: dude in a hood who has never told the truth once in his life.
HELLO???
of course heâs going to say that. what else is he supposed to do. sit anakin down and go âhi yes i am actively trying to emotionally isolate you from your support system so i can turn you into my apprentice and ruin your lifeâ like be serious đ
same with maul going âyouâve been indoctrinated by the jediâ as if HE wasnât raised in a sith pipeline since childhood. sir. that is not a revelation.
and dooku. walking around like a philosophy professor going âthe republic is corruptâ yeah okay, we know, and your solution is⊠fascism with extra lightning???
like yes. the jedi made mistakes. but, theyâre an institution, not a divine being. but the leap from âthe jedi arenât perfectâ to âthe sith are telling the truth actuallyâ is INSANE to me.
#i think this is that thing where 19th century authors had to contrive a series of events for the manuscript to âappearâ in their possession #complete with justifiable narrator and with total disregard for the rest of ways the rest of the text break reality #âyes it is entirely possible that a guy was briefly in another world and made it back here to give me his journal before leaving entirelyâ #âdon't think too hard about itâ (via @flameintheblacknight)
Say what you will about 19th Century literary critics' inexplicable hate-boner for the third-person omniscient perspective, but the lengths that 19th Century authors often went to in order to avoid getting CinemaSins dinged for failing to adequately contextualise how the narrator could possibly know all this are frequently the funniest stuff I've ever read.
#there's one point in Frankenstein where we're like four layers of meta-narrative deep #safie telling a story to the delaceys being recounted by the creature to Frankenstein who is telling this to Walton #who is recounting everything to his sister #wonderful stuff (via @bones-edition)
I'm trying to recall whether Shelley's Frankenstein is actually the most deeply narratively-nested 19th C. novel I've ever read, and I think it might actually be â I can think of a couple of others that get three layers deep, but none that exceed four.
