#since she wants to kill Every Aristocrat and their descendants

[secretmellowblog]

#a tale of two cities #Les mis #pitting two girlbosses against each other #I really DONT know who would win this #I mean #Enjolras is Justice and the dawn and etc etc #but Madame Defarge is the wind and fire! #enjolras is justice but Madame defarge is Vengeance #and Enjolras DOES come from a wealthy family so you KNOw she’d want him dead #since she wants to kill Every Aristocrat and their descendants #unless he was supernaturally good at convincing her otherwise #(while she’s in the middle of trying to stab him) #it’s really a toss up. #but if they got along they could be unstoppable #ALSO #she could teach him that women CAN be very useful dangerous allies in a rebellion XD #XD #I would say ‘enemies to lovers 2K words’ but they are both pretty homosexual #enjolras #Madame defarge

[atpsynth4se]

Doing Eula’s Story Quest So You Don’t Have To:

disclaimer this is just a presentation of the quest with relevant quotes(and some lesser analysis) and not a judgement call on whether eula is worth sympathizing with. please defer to actual poc on that matter.

under cut for length

Opening scene, excerpt of conversation with Jean:

Jean: I have recently received multiple reports from the Knights of someone within the Lawrence Clan having close dealings with the Fatui.

Paimon: The Fatui! Again?

Paimon: But who are the Lawrence Clan?

Jean: There was a dark period in Mondstadt’s history when the aristocracy ruled over the city. The hard-won freedom that followed with the fall of Decarabian was lost once again, as slavery spread throughout the land.

Jean: The first Dandelion Knight, Vennessa, spearheaded the revolution that overthrew the old aristocratic system and established the Knights of Favonius, leading Mondstadt to become the city that you see today.

Jean: The aristocrats, that had oppressed the people of Mondstadt, were none other than the Lawrence Clan.

...

Jean: Unfortunately, the Knights of Favonius and the aristocracy have been at odds with one another for as long as I can remember.

Jean: We have considered every possible way of resolving our differences, but it seems the descendants of the aristocracy remain antagonistic toward the Knights...

Jean: ...No matter what stance we take when dealing with them, the outcome is always the same... Our efforts only result in adding more fuel to the flames.

The Lawrence Clan is not painted in a sympathetic light, and this attitude toward them(bar Eula, for obvious reasons) persists throughout the quest.

Jean then sends the protagonist to talk to Schubert, the Lawrence Clan member in question. He very much holds onto the past structure of oppression, demonstrating extreme classism and going so far as to say that in the past, the protagonist would have been whipped for their insolence(which, in this case, is just the act of trying to have a casual conversation with Schubert).

This sets up Schubert as the antagonist of the quest, though not the entire Lawrence Clan, as Eula and Schubert are the only clan members present or mentioned.

The protagonist then runs into Amber at the Knights of Favonius Headquarters.

Excerpt from conversation with Amber:

Amber: Hehehe, I've been on the receiving end of [Schubert’s] lectures many a time. The Lawrence clan can be very particular about such things.

Paimon: Uh... You mean everyone in the Lawrence Clan is just a big headache?

Amber: As aristocrats, they believe there should be a certain distance between themselves and common folk. *sigh* I understand their thinking, but that's just not how things are anymore. Amber: However, there is one exception among the Lawrence Clan. My good buddy - Eula!

Paimon: B-Buddy?

Amber: That's right! Not only is she from the Lawrence Clan, but she's also Captain of the Knights of Favonius 4th Company.

Wayfarer: Jean told us that the Lawrence Clan sees the Knights as enemies.

Amber: Eula is special! She's not quite like the other members of her clan. She has her own beliefs and it shows. 

Amber: In other words, she doesn't really adhere to the strict rules and conventions of her family.

Amber: However, she's still quite knowledgeable about dealing with the Lawrences. I'm sure you'll see what I mean if you meet her.

Paimon: Hmm, that's strange. If Eula is a member of the Lawrence Clan, then why would Master Jean choose us for the task? Couldn't she just ask Eula? 

Amber: Ah, well... It's a little complicated. Basically, the Lawrence clan has frowned upon the fact that Eula joined the Knights, her family members don't particularly care for her…

Amber: In their eyes, Eula is nothing but a traitor to the family. 

Wayfarer: She sounds like quite the character.

Amber: She's very easy to get along with. Just explain the situation and I'm sure she'll help you come up with a way to get along with Schubert.

Amber: In fact, I think she's out in the wilderness on patrol this morning. You should be able to find her around Stormbearer Mountains.

Paimon: Thanks, Amber! Alright, you heard her, let's go find Eula!

The protagonist meets Eula after battling some Fatui, when she saves them from being killed by an enemy they were unaware of.

Excerpt from conversation with Eula:

Wayfarer: So you must be Eula?

Eula: Yes, that's me.

Paimon: Paimon thinks she's pretty strange... Although, at least we can communicate with her.

Eula: You dare to call someone you've just met "strange"? Forget the aristocracy, that's rude even by normal standards!

Eula: Speaking of which... how do you know my name?

Paimon: This is the Honorary Knight of the Knights of Favonius. And speaking of rude, we're trying to investigate an aristocrat named Schubert Lawrence.

Paimon: He's so obsessed with etiquette that he's not even willing to speak with us!

Eula: Hahaha! I understand now. That's my uncle alright. 

Eula: But why do you mean to investigate him?

Wayfarer: He may be secretly involved with the Fatui.

Eula: I see... Haha, you have some nerve defaming a family member right in front of me. I will have vengeance for this, too!

Paimon: No, no, no! This is an assignment from Master Jean! It's just an investigation, that's all!

Wayfarer: Aren't you curious about your uncle?

Eula: To the everyday citizens of Mondstadt, everyone in the Lawrence clan is scum. It's natural for rumors and unwarranted gossip to lead to such suspicion.

Paimon: Hard to avoid such a reputation when you're known as the ruthless rulers of Old Mondstadt.

Eula: So that's what you think of me? Yet another transgression to avenge...

Paimon: But didn't you say it first!? Argh...

Eula: Hahaha, curious... We've only just met, and you've already given me three causes for vengeance. It's been a while since I've encountered anyone as interesting as you.

Wayfarer: Your definition of curious is... curious.

Eula: I assume you need me to teach you the conduct of the Lawrence clan. Only then will you finally be able to communicate with my uncle, correct?

Eula initially presents herself in a similar manner to the aristocracy, seemingly obsessed with vengeance over minor transgressions. She seems to care greatly about the image of the Lawrence clan, and appears to resent the negative image it (quite rightfully) has.

Eula then attempts to train the protagonist in the ways of aristocratic speech via demonstrations. It goes very badly. As one would expect, the working class citizens of Mondstadt don’t like being demeaned by a member of the aristocracy that used to oppress the city, even one that is slightly more sympathetic for her role in the Knights of Favonius.

Conversation with Randall, the last one of these demonstrations:

Eula: You there, lowly worker, I-

Randall: Yeah, I've already heard it all before. Look, just spare me the time, our answer is always the same. We've got nothing to say to the likes of you. 

Randall: I mean, seriously, can't you just take a hint?

Paimon: Please calm down, we don't want to cause any trouble. 

Randall: *sigh* I know she's a Knight of Favonius, and that the Knights wouldn't misplace their trust, but the name Lawrence carries too much weight with it.

Randall: Even to this very day, the descendants of the Lawrence Clan are still scheming to reclaim Mondstadt and reinstate their aristocratic rule. 

Randall: And if that wasn't enough, here you are purposefully using their awkward way of speaking just to put on an act? Don't you care for the feelings of us ordinary folk?

Eula: You have a point.

Eula: But mark my words, this transgression will not go unnoticed!

Randall: H-Huh? You wanna fight? Listen here, I might be no match for you, but I'll be sure to lodge a complaint with the Knights of Favonius!

Wayfarer: Maybe we should just call it a day now.

Randall: I'm sorry but... I want her to understand that I'm serious!

Randall: Listen here, if you don't want things to get more unpleasant, then you'd better just stop.

Eula: Forget it, there's no point in quarreling any further. Let's go.

Randall: *sigh*...

Eula: It's alright, this happens quite often. Let's find someone else to talk to.

Paimon: Uh, Paimon thinks we've seen enough now. Let's just stop.

Excerpt from the conversation with Eula after this segment of the quest:

Paimon: Actually, Paimon thinks we should apologize for asking you to demonstrate for us. We had no idea the feelings between the Lawrence Clan and the people of Mondstadt were so bitter. 

Eula: Haha, what can we do? The Lawrence name is already a dirty word among every household in Mondstadt. Even three-year-olds know the story. I see this kind of attitude all the time.

Wayfarer: And somehow you still manage to brush it off with a laugh?

Eula: Don't worry, what with me being a Knight of Favonius, they're usually willing to speak a few words with me.

Eula: Perhaps my aristocratic manner of speech provoked them today. Believe me, it's not a big issue.

Paimon: So this is the way things are normally for you? There's no need for them to direct their anger at you personally. 

Eula: That's the way things are. Perhaps it's just fate for those who've made mistakes. Accepting punishment is only fair, right? But when your family has committed atrocities, I'm afraid there's no easy path to reconciliation.

Eula: As memories are carried in the city breeze, the faults of such grievances are passed on from one generation to the next. It is now my turn to bear this burden.

Eula: At least I have a means of living a relatively normal life compared to the elders of my family. I have nothing to be discontented about. 

Wayfarer: So you knew all along that we'd encounter these kinds of problems? 

Paimon: Yeah, why were you so willing to try and demonstrate for us?

The narrative paints Eula in a sympathetic light for “dealing with the alienation of being a member of the Lawrence Clan”. However, she acknowledges the fact that Lawrence Clan deserves this foul reputation given its history, contrasting with the first conversation the protagonist has with her.

More training of the monster fighting variety ensues, finishing with a trip to Good Hunter to buy a diplomatic gift for Schubert. There, you run into Amber. Sara ends up giving Amber a salad on the house, prompting Eula to swear vengeance.

Excerpt from conversation with Eula, Amber, and Sara:

Eula: So... we clearly didn't order this, yet you prepared it without authorization... Hmph! Mark my words, this transgression will not go unnoticed!

Paimon: Uh... you're going to take revenge on her for giving us a free salad!? 

Sara: You should know me by now, that's the kind of villainous character I am! Hehe...

Sara: Well then... please wait a moment while I get the dish for your uncle started.

Eula: Hmph, delicious unauthorized delicacies... Sara will pay for this.

Paimon: Why would you choose Gebratenes Fleisch mit Sauerkraut as a gift for your uncle? Paimon's never even heard of that dish before... Eula: This dish isn't actually on Good Hunter's menu. Only long standing patrons such as my uncle would know about the dish. The old aristocrats seem to take a liking to it. 

Amber: Because of the sour flavor of the sauerkraut, not too many people are fond of it these days. I guess it's become less popular over time.

Amber: Eula treated me to the dish once, and I couldn't even finish a bite. I've nicknamed it "Gebratenes Fleisch mit Vengeance" ever since. Yuck!

Eula: I never expected us to have such completely different tastes in food... If I weren't in such a good mood, I'd say that constitutes grounds for transgression...

Wayfarer: Huh, so even Amber doesn't escape your vengeance?

The “transgression” that Sara commits? Eula gets her vengeance by paying for the food, but putting the Mora under the plate. This is the first sign that though Eula cares about “transgressions” and “vengeance”, she does not seek to hurt people she doesn’t feel deserve it.

Amber and Eula leave, and the protagonist takes the gift from Sara, leading to this conversation:

Paimon: Paimon's been meaning to ask... No one could stand the sight of Eula when she was trying to speak with the others in Mondstadt earlier.

Paimon: But she seemed to get along fine with you and Amber just now… what's up with that?

Sara: The people of Mondstadt don't take kindly to anyone bearing the Lawrence name. 

Sara: They are unable to see past her family, therefore they don't actually see Eula for herself.

Sara: So no matter what Eula tries to do, it's seen as a wrongdoing. It essentially strips the meaning of anything she tries to accomplish.

Wayfarer: I think I understand now.

Paimon: How come you're able to see Eula differently then? 

Sara: Well, when she joined the Knights of Favonius, it caused quite an uproar.

Sara: Many people signed a petition, demanding that the Knights reverse their decision. 

Sara: At the same time, numerous members of the Lawrence Clan crowded the entrance of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, clamoring for Eula to give an explanation.

Paimon: Whoa... so both sides were unhappy.

Sara: That's right. So, you can imagine how determined Eula must have been under such circumstances. 

Sara: But thanks to Grand Master Varka and the unwavering attitudes of others in the Knights of Favonius, they were able to quell the unrest. Tensions still remain beneath the surface, I'm afraid.

Sara: In the eyes of the people, she's a stain on the Knights of Favonius... and in the eyes of the Lawrence Clan, she's a disgrace to her family. 

Sara: But she simply fulfills her duty as a Knight, silently helping one person after another, myself included.

Sara: People like Eula should be approached with care and understanding. She could stand to be treated a little more fairly.

Wayfarer: It's good that you're able to understand her.

Sara: I believe a day will come when things will get better.

Eula is clearly defying her family’s oppressive mindset, but the narrative still disparages Mondstadt for not welcoming a former oppressor with open arms.

You meet Schubert, and, surprise surprise, he is scheming with the Fatui to take over Mondstadt. You follow him into the Fatui’s lair, when Eula catches up to you.

Excerpt from conversation with Eula and Schubert:

Schubert: Don't touch me, get out of my way! I'll leave on my own!

Eula: It seems we've finally caught up with you. This place is crawling with Fatui. 

Eula: Oh, it's you. It seems your investigation went well.

Wayfarer: It was all worth it.

Schubert: Aha! I see now. So you're the one that taught them our etiquette? And I thought you despised such pleasantries!

Schubert: Furthermore, there is a rule in our family. Such traditions are never to be taught to outsiders!

Eula: Ah yes, rings a bell. So what? I had no reason not to teach them. 

Schubert: Y-You have brought shame to our family and ruined my plans! It's all for naught now!

Eula: I know that you poured great efforts into these plans, uncle. But you were well aware that it was not the right thing to do. As a Knight of Favonius, I could not overlook your actions.

Schubert: Knight of Favonius!? Let's get one thing straight. I am your uncle, and you are a member of the Lawrence Clan! You should strive to restore your family's glory!

Schubert: You still have a chance. Defeat every Knight of Favonius here, and leave with me!

Schubert: Then I shall plea with the family to spare you and give you a new beginning! 

Eula: So just to be clear, you want a Knight of Favonius to attack the Knights of Favonius?

Schubert: I shall say this one last time. You are not a Knight of Favonius. You are a descendant of the Lawrence Clan!

Schubert: The blood of the Lawrence Clan flows in your veins! You must comply with the will of the family!

Eula: Since when have I ever complied with the will of the family?

Schubert: Wh-Why you... you unruly maid!

Eula: If anyone should be angry, it should be me. As a member of the Lawrence Clan, you knowingly plotted against the city of Mondstadt and threatened its safety.

Eula: Had you ever stopped to consider the trouble it would bring to so many people? Had you considered how many enemies you would make trying to keep the plans under wraps?

Schubert: Y-You dare lecture me!

Eula: That's right, in the name of the family that you so dearly revere, Uncle Schubert.

Eula: I've never experienced the age of "glory" you always speak of, and I've never understood our family's incessant pursuit of it.

Eula: But I am capable of discerning right from wrong, and I deeply understand what "freedom" means to the people of Mondstadt. 

Eula: The Lawrence Clan should never and will never become what you've dreamed it to be!

Schubert: Grr...

Schubert: Oh, the disgrace of it all! How could such a rebellious monster emerge from our own family!?

Eula openly defies the oppressive goals of the Lawrence Clan, solidifying her stance against them. However, she still claims to act in the name of the family, but her idea of restoring their name appears to be to make amends with the people of Mondstadt, not to rule over them again.

The protagonist escapes the Fatui lair, and has a boss fight, after which this conversation ensues, and the quest ends:

Eula: *sigh* And there was me thinking that he was just another elder of the family and a lazy one at that. I never suspected he could stoop this low. So stubborn... Mark my words, vengeance will be mine!

Paimon: Oh yeah, you suddenly appeared at just the right moment.

Eula: Yeah, about that...

Eula: Because you stole my targets by attacking the Fatui I'd been tracking earlier...

Eula: ...I came to exact my vengeance. You tried to do my job for me, and I'm here to return the favor.

Wayfarer: So getting the diagram of Mondstadt's defenses was your way of exacting vengeance?

Paimon: Finally, after all this time, Paimon understands what you're saying!

Paimon: In reality, you sensed that something might happen to us during our investigation... 

Paimon: You were worried about us and your uncle, so you brought a team to take a look!

Eula: My purpose was vengeance, don't twist the story.

Eula: Hmph, you don't look too bright, but it turns out you have a knack for scheming...

Eula: And mark my words, I'll remember that...

Paimon: Hey, what do you mean Paimon doesn't look too bright!?

Eula: You have seeded a deep enmity between us... just you wait.

Eula: Even if you were to be completely destroyed, I would never forget you!

Wayfarer: So, does that make us your "arch-enemies"?

Eula’s definition of “vengeance” is shown once again to be naught more than a front.

In summary:

The narrative sympathizes with Eula, and disparges the people of Mondstadt for alienating her, though they have every right to do so.

The Lawrence Clan are not sympathetic, and Eula is directly at odds with them.

Eula does not seek to restore the glory of the Lawrence Clan in the oppressive sense, and wants to not be judged for her family, but her actions.

#fathericraveviolencecore #genshin impact #please dont treat me as the one to make a judgement call on this. poc please feel free to give your thoughts #since this issue doesn't affect me personally i dont want to speak over people who it does affect

[yanmx]

you are what I desire. — shownu

warning: this story contains depictions of violence, murder, and unhealthy obsessions. please access if you are 18 years or older. smut: n/a requested: n/a words: 2265 reader: female

summary: Emperor!Hyunwoo, who rules an East Asian empire, has fallen in love with a young maid in his palace and is unable to cope with this feelings. 

key: concubine - a mistress ; eunuch - a male servant who has been castrated ; lady-in-waiting - a female maid

Hyunwoo is a powerful emperor that is apart of the Sohn family.

Despite having a troubled childhood with his parents deceased, he has been respected for keeping his country at peace and wealthy with riches.

He has very few concubines, unlike emperors from previous reigns.

To him, women are people that only look at him for power.

Despite his lack of interest in love, women from aristocrat families line up in hopes of being his next concubine.

Even if he’s a taciturn emperor, he’s still handsome, young, and of course rich.

During a required ceremony where Hyunwoo is forced to pick his next concubine, you, a young maid, stands by and watches.

The hall is decorated lavishly in fragrant flowers. Women in between the ages of 17 and 22 line up in front of the emperor’s chair in hopes of stealing his heart.

Your eyes lit up with interest as you admired the beautiful dresses, makeup and decor.

The crazy amount of food being served was also making your stomach grumble.

The maid-in-charge sees and loudly scolds you, unfortunately catching the attention of everyone in the ceremony.

“YOU! Why are you just standing there?! Do you want to be whipped? Hurry and bring the ceremonial treats!”

Your face flushes a deep tone of crimson while you try to escape the judgmental eyes.

Hyunwoo stands up from his chair, alarmed by the commotion. “Who dares interrupt the ceremony?”

The maid-in-charge forces you to bow in a kowtow position “Your exalted highness! I-it was this girl, she dared to peek into the ceremony.”

You began crying out of horror. You barely were brought into the palace and given a lowly position to support your family.

Is this my last day on soil?

Hyunwoo waved his hand back to dismiss everyone from the room. The wealthy women grumbled and glared daggers into your kneeling figure.

You have soured the mood of the ceremony, leaving the women with no chance to be the next concubine today.

Before Hyunwoo had the chance to speak, you blurted your feelings all at once.

“Emperor of this nation! I have sinned! I have sinned! Please punish me, b-but I beg you… don’t punish my family.”

Hyunwoo initially was confused, but then silently smiled to himself at how cute your behavior was.

“Look at me.”

You reluctantly brought you head up, you were a mess. Your nose was running and your face was red from crying and shame.

Hyunwoo, however, thought you were the most beautiful out of all the women at the ceremony today.

He had to have you.

“If you feel this guilty, then…”

Oh no. I will surely die today.

“… you will be reassigned to be my maid. I will personally train you to make sure you can behave in the palace. Go to the head eunuch and he will appoint you a position.”

Hyunwoo laughed brightly at your confused expression.

You were upset that he momentarily played with your feelings, but relieved that the emperor was lighthearted towards your mistake.

Hyunwoo made sure you were appointed as his personal lady-in-waiting to keep you near.

When the assignment was announced, you were worried that the work may be more difficult that your previous duties, but excitement quickly settled in since you get to work near such an important figure.

Despite your meeting with Emperor Hyunwoo was short and chaotic, Hyunwoo couldn’t help but want to keep you close.

He loved how your expression was pure, as if an angel had descended.

It was unlikely that someone like you had wicked intentions. He easily could trust you.

Months had gone by of you working as the emperor’s lady-in-waiting. You were in charge of tasks like dressing the him and making his bath ready.

During this time, Hyunwoo just couldn’t bring himself to make you into a real concubine.

His closest advisers knew about his affection for you, but every time they brought it up Hyunwoo’s heart would race and he would avoid the issue.

A young maid had made the emperor shy.

During the emperor’s evening walk, he noticed you behind a tree. Excited, he quickly walked there, with his maids and eunuchs swiftly following.

Unfortunately, as he got closer he noticed a young man around your age with you.

You two were exchanging laughs and the young man, who seemed to be a soldier, had given you a small gift.

Hyunwoo was infuriated.

Even though you were not officially his, you were still his lady-in-waiting that’s only suppose to serve him. You are only allowed to smile at him.

In that moment, he couldn’t control himself and began to think irrationally.

The servants following him were nervous about the terror about to rise.

Hyunwoo marched to you and grabbed your arm. “What is the meaning of this?”

You and the solider were frozen, unable to communicate.

“Your highness, I-”

“SHUT UP! I saved your life, gave you a respectable job that you can help your family with, clean clothes, clean food. I treat you with respect and this is what I get?!”

Emperor Hyunwoo was usually very composed and rarely outwardly angry, so everyone stood quietly observing this situation, at a loss of what to do.

Hyunwoo turned the man. “… and you. You dare converse with the emperor’s woman?”

“With all respect your exalted highness, [Y/N] is only a maid. There is no rule forbidding men courting servants of the palace.” The young man fired back.

Hyunwoo couldn’t believe it, this mere subject had the audacity to speak back?

“Guards, take [Y/N] back to my bedchamber.”

You yelled and kicked as the guards tightly held you, escorting you to the Emperor’s palace, while quietly apologizing for their behavior.

The other ladies-in-waiting, to your shock, scowled with jealousy.

What’s happening right now? Why are those women looking at me like this? Surely I’ll be killed for whatever reason.

You were confused and scared, especially for the soldier that accompanied you.

“As for you…” Hyunwoo withdrew his sword, pointing it towards the young man. “You are punished for stealing,” the sword was slashed not once, but five times, leaving the corpse in pieces and the area bathed in blood. “Stealing my property.”

In the emperor’s palace, several ladies-in-waiting were forcefully bathing you, dressing you in beautiful silk, and applying only the finest rouge to your lips and cheeks.

It was the first time you felt so luxurious, but it didn’t feel exciting, it felt disgusting.

While you were being adorned, you can only think about the well-being of the soldier and the events the you were facing.

After crying, resisting, and pondering the situation, you were exhausted.

By the time you were brought to the emperor’s bedchamber, all you wanted to do was rest.

You didn’t understand why you were brought to the emperor’s palace, but you didn’t care at this point.

Your eyelids fell and you entered a slumber.

After the emperor washed himself as well, he walked into his palace with anticipation, but a small part of him was worried.

In his five year reign, Hyunwoo had never lost his temper nor killed someone out of jealousy. He feared his sudden turn in personality.

But, it doesn’t matter. He is an emperor. He is the almighty of the land, chosen by God. He merely punished someone for touching his woman. Everyone knew he was in love with [Y/N], why was that guard so blind?

It’s his fault.

Hyunwoo hummed, satisfied with his flawed reasoning.

Entering his bedchamber, he saw you.

You laid your head on his study table.

You looked angelic, as if you were a maiden that descended from the heavens, bathed in pure white light.

It was a hallucination Hyunwoo saw in the dark room. He has definitely become madly in love.

He tiptoed to your sleeping figure, kneeling next you and admiring your beauty. However, your maid instincts kicked in and you immediately had woken up, feeling his heavy presence.

Shocked seeing Hyunwoo next you, you panicked and quickly got up from the study table.

“Y-your highness?”

“You’re awake [Y/N]. You must be very tired, go back to sleep on the bed-” Hyunwoo tried to hold your shoulders, but you batted them away.

“No! What’s going on?! I should be in a prison cell, why… why am I in the palace?”

Hyunwoo took a deep breath, trying to sympathize with your confusion. He brought another chair and sat down next to you.

“I understand. I didn’t want things to happen so fast, but… [Y/N] please believe me when I say that I love you. Ever since the day of the ceremony, I felt some sort of gravitation towards you. That’s why I kept you by my side. I didn’t understand what this feeling was, but after seeing you with that man, I know now. I want you to be my concubine.”

Hyunwoo slightly smiled at his words. The excitement of love, he could finally feel it. It was embarrassing, but it also felt good, finally being able to take it off of his chest.

You didn’t feel touched or loved however, all you could feel was used and horrified.

You thought the emperor saw potential in you and wanted to help you rise in the ranks. You thought the emperor was protecting you as if you were his little sister.

“No,” you said, trying to be as confident as possible.

“What?”

“Please let me go back to the servant quarters. I want to see the soldier I was with.”

“What are you saying?” Hyunwoo was baffled. This wasn’t apart of the fairy tale in his head.

You have always been an innocent maiden, following his every command. Why were you suddenly being defiant? Why were you thinking of another?

You tried to leave the entrance of the bedchamber, but the guards blocked you way.

“Where do you think you’re leaving to?”

“Please your exalted highness. I am not fit to be a concu-”

Hyunwoo cut you off and grabbed your arm, turning you around. “I didn’t give you the choice. This is an order. I will bed you tonight and after two moons, you will be given a title and enter the harem.”

You tried pushing him off of you, punching his chest, kicking his knees, but nothing worked.

Hyunwoo threw you onto the bed, and brought a chair near you, sitting on it.

“Forget about that man, he’s dead. I killed him for daring to seduce the emperor’s woman. His body is indistinguishable now, he’s probably rotting in hell for his sins.”

What?!

“You’re lucky I spared you, or else your body should have been in ashes next to his. You know why I spared you? Because if you’re going to die, you’re going do it as my beloved. A the concubine of the Sohn family, not some lowly servant.”

You were extremely afraid. After Hyunwoo mentioned the death of that man, you couldn’t focus on anything he said.

That man wasn’t someone you loved, it was a childhood friend that acted as a messenger. He gave you information on the well-being of your family back in the village.

The gift, it wasn’t from him, it was from your sister who had just gotten married. It was a token of gratitude for giving your entire salary to her for the arrangement of her wedding.

You began crying. You knew the emperor wouldn’t listen to you or give in to your wishes.

Women were not allowed to refuse Emperor Hyunwoo. Women who refused an emperor weren’t killed, that would be a privilege. Instead, their families lives would be at stake.

Bracing yourself, you closed your eyes and lied down, tears streaming down your face.

To your shock, Hyunwoo stood up and walked to the entrance.

“I have no interest in sleeping with you tonight, you soiled my mood. Be prepared for tomorrow, you will be assigned a new room with your own servants. I need to take permission from the queen to assign you as a concubine, so for now you’re just a bed servant.”

Hyunwoo left the bed chamber without looking back and walked to his office.

“Head eunuch, prepare a decree and palace buffet for [Y/N]’s family. Make sure to also invite her family to the crowning ceremony that will take place in two moons. She must know how much is at stake with her new title as my concubine.”

If she doesn’t submit to me, maybe seeing her family before I threaten her will, Hyunwoo diabolically planned.

“Your highness, I have seen you as a small, cheerful child, a quiet prince, and a successful emperor. If I may be honest with you, your behavior is not normal.” The head eunuch informed him, concerned.

“I am aware, but when it comes to her, I can’t help it.” Hyunwoo sighed and looked out the window, the sky was clear.

“The sky tonight has no one to accompany him. No stars, no moons, no fireworks, no candles. That was me. I suffered, no one was ever trustworthy to be my side and hear my cries. But [Y/N], she never had bad intentions. She was honest with her job and always worried about her family. She never stole or fought with other servants for a better position.”

Hyunwoo gripped his water glass and, with pressure, broke it into small pieces.

The eunuch panicked and quickly tried to mend his wounds, but Hyunwoo stopped him.

“If I need to become a sinful demon to be by her side, then so be it.”

[note: please message me or leave replies for any nice comments! I had a lot of fun with this one, which is why it’s so long lmao sorry owo.]

#yandere monsta x #monsta x yandere #yandere kpop #yandere #yandere shownu #monsta x scenarios

[first-of-her-nxme]

Hey it was a nice experience going through your blog! You might have already answered this but can you elaborate on why Jaqen is Rhaegar's son? Or you may put the link if you have already answered. Thanks!

Hey :)

Sure but there is a lot to unpack so I’ll try to give a relatively short answer and if it still leaves you with some questions, please ask :) Btw it is not my idea that Jaqen is Aegon, it’s as old as A Clash of Kings and I first heard it from one of AO3 authors but I don’t know if I can tag her here so I’ll edit if she speaks up :) Edit: I first heard of it from @darkeleni

The first issue I need to explain is how old is Jaqen. Every time we meet him in the story he is wearing a very young face. We know that in Westeros boys as young as 16 are considered adults. In some cases even younger, like Robb Stark when he’s crowned as the King in the North. So a 17 year old can be referred to as a boy or as a man, depending on the person speaking. We first see Jaqen through Arya POV and for her he is very young, the youngest of the prisoners, but still a man grown because he is older than her brothers, even than Robb who is already a king. Gendry who is three years younger is described as “almost a man” while Jaqen calls himself “a man.” We get more information about J’s age in Braavos chapters. Every acolyte gets the same training so it means J’s training was the same as Arya’s. In Braavos Arya is always posing as a girl of her age so it means each of J’s faces points to his actual age. And the face he is wearing in A Feast for Crows and A Dance with Dragons used to belong to the 19 year old acolyte, Pate. So Jaqen was born exactly in the same year Aegon was born. Pate is sometimes called a young man, a youth or a boy. J. was 17 in the first book, almost like Loras who is also called both, a boy and a man. 

The next thing is his face. The answer is in the books, it’s the face Arya sees when she meets him:

He was the youngest of the three, slender, fine-featured, always smiling. His hair was red on one side and white on the other

George Martin explains:

…right from the start I wanted the Targaryens, and by extension the Valyrians from whom they were descended, to be a race apart, with distinctive features that set them apart from the rest of Westeros, and helped explain their obsession with the purity of their blood. To do this, I made a conventional ‘high fantasy’ choice, and gave them silver-gold hair, purple and violet eyes, fine chiseled aristocratic features.

Jaqen is one of the two characters with long, straight, “white” hair like Rhaegar’s hair, the other one is Bloodraven. J’s hair is half red - he either dyes his hair to memorize Elia, like we are told Young Griff does to memorize his mother, or it’s his birthmark that becomes more visible with age like the red mark on Bloodraven’s face.

“Jaqen is as dead as Arry,” he said sadly, “and I have promises to keep. Valar morghulis, Arya Stark.”

Arry is not dead, it’s Arya. Arry had Arya’s face, her body and mind. Arry’s story of being a commoner’s son was as fake as Jaqen’s story of being a commoner from Lorath. They both made the same mistake that betrayed they were noble born: Arya called Roose my lord instead of m’lord and Jaqen called Arya my lady of Stark not m’lady like Gendry. “Arry” derives from Arya’s real name. Jaqen is as Arry - a real person with a fake backstory and a fake name but a Valyrian one, a name that resembles Aegon and Rhaegar ( H’ghar read backwards ) or Vhagar, a dragon name. They are both orphans - A man’s sire is long dead ( J. even speaks like Rhaegar:My royal sire fears your father...) - his parents were killed, Arya’s father was murdered too and her mother is about to die soon.    

I have promises to keep. - I am the prince that was promised.

Valar morghulis, Arya Stark. - All men must die, Arya. All who murdered my family and took what’s mine. GRRM borrowed this line from The Odyssey - there will be killing till the score is paid. The concept of “no one”, a hero who hides his true name comes from The Odyssey too.

Their exchange has been rewritten for the show. Jaqen simply says “Jaqen is dead” without any reference to Arya and Arry. It means that this plot, as well as book Arya plot, is dead and the show is not telling GRRM’s story. J. is one of those characters that died in the show but will never die in the books. 

His identity is revealed in A Clash if Kings, before the Young Griff is even introduced, when Arya blackmails Jaqen to free the northmen. Jaqen doesn’t want to help, she has only one wish left. He asks Arya if it would be enough to kill king Joffrey. She doesn’t say no, but she names him instead:  

“Even if I named the king … ”

“Speak the name, and death will come. On the morrow, at the turn of the moon, a year from this day, it will come. A man does not fly like a bird, but one foot moves and then another and one day a man is there, and a king dies.” He knelt beside her, so they were face-to-face, “A girl whispers if she fears to speak aloud. Whisper it now. Is it Joffrey?”

“It’s Jaqen H'ghar.”

Very clever, Mr. Martin - Joffrey is not a true king, the true king is Jaqen H’ghar. 

J. gives Arya his iron coin - a coin of the faceless men, a symbol of anonymity. But when he gets his dragon egg from Euron and comes to the Citadel to hatch it, he kills Pate with a golden coin - the three-headed dragon with a face of a dead king whom Pate cannot recognize. The king from J’s coin must be a long dead Targ king, that’s why young Pate doesn’t know his face. It’s also a reference to J. - he is the dead king, most people think he was murdered in King’s Landing. 

A man does not fly like a bird - but he will, that’s why he wants a dragon.

And last but not least, how he was saved. Rhaegar did it before he went to war. Rhaegar believed that Aegon was the prince that was promised, he saved him like Jon saved Mance’s baby. His last moments with his wives are described in Jon/Gilly scene in A Dance with Dragons. Varys smuggled the baby out of the Red Keep through the black cells - that’s why we met Jaqen in the black cells in King’s Landing in A Game of Thrones - another motif borrowed from The Odyssey and also The Lord of the Rings - the rightful king is coming home. J. came to Varys because he knew Varys was meant to fulfill his father’s wish, and because Illyrio had dragons’ eggs. Of course by this time Varys made a plan of his own to replace J. with another “Aegon”, the usurper. 

J’s story is also told through symbols: the symbolism of wine, crows ( they are the messengers of gods ), the imagery of dragons and so on. The Ghost of High Heart’s prophecy, Jenny’s song ( the book version ) and My Featherbed refer to Jaqen and Arya too.        

Thank you for the ask :)

#Jaqen H'ghar #Aegon Targaryen #asoiaf #Arya Stark #Rhaegar Targaryen #asoiaf meta #jaqen h'ghar is aegon targaryen

[fantroll-purgatory]

Eidyia Ethrae - didn't meme to hurt your feelings

@maeve-avrae

Alternia or Beforus?

Beforus. I have an alternian descendant (nurse, sylph of rage) and ancestor (alternate adult self) for this character as well. I might send them in at a later date? 

Name: Eidyia Ethrae 

“Eidyia’s name was derived from the Greek word eidô meaning “to see” or “to know.” She probably personified the power of the eye which in Greek superstition was the source of a witch’s supernatural powers. As an Okeanid-nymph she was presumably also the Naiad of the main well or fountain of Kolkhis–the marriage of founding-king and local Naiad is a common motif in Greek myth.“

Ethraee is a lesser deity from D&D, with control over both the sun and the moon. It seemed fitting, because she’s struggling to find a balance between her daytime and nighttime activities, or sun and moon. It’s also a nod to her interest in flarping. 

Hm… Why do you have her named after an Oceanid if she’s a landdweller? I guess if you themed her around witches or something of that sort it could work… Hmmmm. …You know what, with her umbrella and her look and her rage theme and that witch name, I might want to make her like a… more chaotic-neutral Mary Poppins? Not that Mary Poppins isn’t chaotic but I’m sure you get what I mean. …Hm. 

Okay okay Eidyia Etharee stays.

Age: approaching maturity/ adult depending on the setting.

Title: mage of rage or seer of rage, not exactly sure on this one yet 

Witch of Rage, because she actively attempts to change the rage-state of people. It makes her a more chaotic element. She’s able to manipulate and change the negative emotions experienced… her inverse is seer of hope, which means through other mediums she can come to understand the nature of optimism around her…. 

Blood color: jade, but I’ve been thinking of making her a cuspblood with olive, because when she’s being mischievous she takes on some more feline-like personality traits. 

Being a cusp would make her a mutant/might knock her out of the jade range, realistically. Honestly if I was going to bump her anywhere outside of Jade, I’d actually bump her to Teal. …She might even make a pretty good purple. I guess we’ll keep addressing that possibility as we go! 

Symbol and meaning:

viricorn, sign of the lethal. I like how this one looks like a heart; it captures her emphatic nature. ‘’the lethal’’ captures her more sadistic nature. Plus it’s also a rage sign!

If you were to bump her to purple, her sign would be Capricorn, which isn’t necessarily ideal… Hmmm.

Dream Planet: Prospit 

I do think this is fitting for her. She seems capricious and likely to let her feelings at the moment control how she engages with other people. She also doesn’t seem like the kind to fixate on the past/future, but to live in the moment, and to be adaptive… So, yes. Good.

Trolltag: attentionAsunder , curiousCantrip, compellingCatnap, calescentCruisader 

I have several ideas, but haven’t been able to decide yet. I like alliteration though, like you might be able to tell lol.

If you don’t mind breaking the GCAT rule, how about diurnalDragoon, referencing her ability to walk around in the daytime. Dragoon references kind of a goading nature, her trying to bait people into being mad. 

Quirk: no clue yet, but she likes using complicated words to sound smart and elegant.maybe also something pun-based because of her mischievous nature?

As a reference to the Mary Poppins thing I said earlier, I’d kind of like the idea of her having a habit of rhyming/turning things into little songs, as well as having a habit of making up her own complicated words and portmanteaus for funsies.  

Fetch Modus: Haven’t thought of this yet ;@_@

Suoicodilaipxecitsiligarfilacrepus Modus. Or more reasonably, Reverse Modus. She has to figure out how to say the name of an object backwards in order to access it. That’s easy for something like a Hat (Tah), but not quite as much for something like a Chimney Brush (Hsurb Yenmihc). 

Special Abilities (if any): sunlight resistance, and can sense emotions. She gets better at sensing small changes in someone’s disposition if she’s close (both physically and emotionally) to the person she is trying to read.  She’s better at sensing negative emotions like anger, discomfort, frustration and pain.

I do like that even if I still have a problem with Jades being given additional abilities… hrm… I guess being an empath is something that can happen naturally anyways. A purple could have a stronger sense of this, probably, and maybe even be able to manipulate emotions a little bit.

Strife Specibus: parasolkind 

However resistant to sunlight she may be, some protection from the deadly lazer is more than welcome. When in a pinch, it makes for a decent clobbering tool too!

If you theoretically moved her away from jade up to purple, this parasol would be slightly more necessary.

Lusus: (spiny flower) mantis, with antennae shaped like a deer’s antlers

Since mantis are known for killing their spouse I thought it would make a fitting connection with the ’‘lethal” title. Their claws are sharp and dangerous, but at the same time they are patient and calm creatures.

Other animals I considered were a musk deer, because it is also known as the vampire deer for its iconic fangs, and a saber tooth tiger to connect her more to cats for the cuspblood route.

The mantis probably works well for either her being a jade. If I DID make her purple, I might recommend a leech, cue me preemptively referencing your emotional vampire joke.

Personality: She’s kind of a scatterbrain! She thinks a lot, and tends to forget what she’s doing because she gets so lost in her thoughts. She’s very calm, collected and easygoing, but tends to isolate herself. Knowing what others are feeling gets quite overwhelming at times, so she really values her private time.

She also has a colder, more analytical and manipulative side, because she knows just how to press someone’s buttons. She finds it interesting to see how people react to her teasing, and likes to joke around. So instead of a rainbowdrinker like jades are known for I guess you could describe her as more of a social/emotional vampire! She cares more about her appearance than she would like to admit, having a lowkey gothic/ aristocratic aesthetic, and tends to be quite flirty with her quadrants. 

She’s also very dutiful, and doesn’t like asking for help. She takes her tasks in the brooding caverns very seriously, even if she’s not actually fond of the job. She would rather over-exert herself than deliver bad work. She would probably be more interested in a counseling or mediation kind of job rather than that of a caretaker. 

Her being easygoing and dutiful to the point of over-exertion might be a bit of a contradiction? I think if you want to have both coexist you’ll have to have it be that she’s very committed to doing a good job and thinks it’s necessary, but that she doesn’t beat herself up over any mistakes and knows that no one can do Everything. It fits better with her tendency to neglect her sleep in favor of strolling around, too. If she were so strictly concerned with her work, she probably would take more steps to avoid something that could disrupt her work capabilities? 

I do like the idea of her being somewhat manipulative. An empath but not a sympath. Maybe have her struggle to genuinely care about people. She’s capable of recognizing emotions, but feeling sympathy is something she just doesn’t have enough practice in. 

Definitely have her be the type that just kind of breezes in and out as she pleases, who is fine just walking up to someone she barely knows and messing with them and then continuing on her way. And maybe make her not mind the idea of draining the people around her, to make your emotional vampire joke connect more? 

Her mischievous and chaotic nature as well as her commitment to doing a good job is what made me consider her being purple. And if you wanted her to still be in charge of a bunch of little ones, maybe she could be a Clown Church Wriggler Nanny. 

Interests: She likes taking strolls in the sunlight, but often neglects her sleep schedule in favor of this interest. As a result she often oversleeps, and is often tired. She likes indulging in creative hobbies like character creation, writing stories, and casual flarping. Her job gets priority though! 

Might I recommend her also being into a little song and dance? Catch this girl humming and twirling around while working.

Land: The land of Thorns and Fervor (LOTAF)

Thorns and all sorts of spiky protrusions block your path at every step. They seem to pop up out of nowhere, but disappear just as easily. The landscape, aside from the thriving thickets of thorny bushes, is barren. There is black sand and rock everywhere, with some cacti and small flowers sprinkled in here and there.

The rock faces are decorated with intricate designs, and hold deep caves within. You presume them to be the remains of a long gone civilization. Speaking of civilization, this planet is not completely deserted yet. You can spot a small village on the horizon. You know it to be the home of the vipers, as you’ve been to one of their settlements before. Some of them seem to hold you in high regard for some reason.

The viper houses are made from rock, making you wonder how they could have possibly constructed the dens themselves, seeing as they don’t have arms. You feel sorry for them. The houses are equipped with metal rods on top of the roofs to harness power from the frequent lightning storms that plague the region. 

Despite the fact that it storms regularly there is little to no water. All the rain from the storms evaporates before it has the chance to touch the ground. Most of the water you will find here is gathered in fruit, or wells. (Or, you know, those thunderheads looming over your head.) The biggest settlement in this thorny desert houses a ginormous well. The snakes treat it as a sacred oasis, and it is said to be the home of The denizen Apophis, Egyptian god of chaos.

This planet description is GREAT. I love the idea and concept behind it… I presume that she’s gotta get down there in that well to fight Apophis and also try to bring hope back to the tiny little viper settlements? Good, good stuff.

Thank you so much in advance for taking the time to read this! I would appreciate any and all input!

Thank me? Thank YOU! I love her a whole lot. Now let’s do some design!:

JADE:

Horns: I edited the horn to involve a hook. That’s about all. 

Hair: I decided to keep it relatively flat and smooth. I liked the style she had going, just had to give it more volume. 

Face: Would you believe that those eyes were Nepeta’s when I started? I tried to utilize the shape you provided. I also had to give her the defined lips typical of all jades (though I kept it with the purple too because it looked good). 

Jacket: I gave her a flared jacket like Mary Poppins, along with the buttons and red bowtie. 

Legs: I kept the broomstick skirt and some heels from fan-troll. 

PURPLE: 

Horns: I gave her some simple horns to reflect the symbol I provided. 

Makeup: I gave her grease paint that looks a bit like chimney soot smeared on her cheeks. 

Jacket: I dotted the jacket with lots of little grey spots. 

Symbol: It’s meant to look like a heart, too, but keeps the purple sign language. 

Thank you for sharing her! She’s really interesting. 

-CD

#maeve-avrae #Eidyia Ethrae #eidyia #ethrae #jadeblood #purpleblood #review #redesign #cd review #submission

[infinitysdecendants76730]

Infinity’s Descendants- Becoming La Reine de la Mort

“The Duchessa of San Marino Pt. 1”

We were moving swiftly to the estate. I was pleasantly surprised by Malachi’s prowess and I was eager to see his skill set. We hadn’t had any time to train together so I hadn’t the slightest of ideas what he was capable of.

The two of us were holed up in a tent in the middle of a beautiful wooded area waiting for night to fall. “According to the map Lasko provided us I believe we are less than two nights away” Malachi said as he drew an imaginary line of our path on the map. “Only two nights? We are making better time than I expected we would” I replied in between bites of my apple. “What do you think the best method of entry will be?” He turned the map towards me. I tossed him the apple and took a good look at the map. “Eat up, just in case we are unable to feed during our journey tonight” I smiled to myself as I heard the loud crunch him biting into the apple.

“You see this stream here?” “Yes, it runs almost all the way to the estate” he replied. “I think this would be the best path to take, we should follow it up as far as we can then cross when we see an opening. As far as the best method of entry; I will have to see the place to assess that” This map was detailed but terrains change and aristocrats often use their boredom as an excuse to remodel. “Surely they would have guards at multiple posts along that stream” he replied. “Perhaps but that is of no matter to us” I looked up at him. “We could use a warm up before the real fun begins” I winked. Malachi smiled nervously. I truly understood his reservations about it all. His last experience was rather traumatic. I wanted him to know that he could trust me so I grabbed his hand and held it firmly. “As long as I am here I will never let anything happen to you. Understood?” I lifted the candle directly between our faces so he could see I was serious. “Oui” His eyes searched mine. What they were looking for I was uncertain. “C’est une promesse” I said hoping that he believed me.

The mood was too tense for my liking so I peeked out of the tent door. There was barely any trace left of the sun. “I don’t know about you but this apple fairly unsatisfactory. Shall we go see if we can find real nourishment? There should be a village ahead”

 

We had drank our fill from the villagers in the still of the night and we began to feel the warmth of the suns rays preparing to peek over the horizon. It was time to pitch our tent yet again. It was a rather conspicuous tent, as it was made entirely of this extremely thick black material. I was used to seeing all sorts of fabrics and materials as Céleste would bring them home frequently from the shop when she wanted to experiment with new dress designs but I had never seen or felt this material before. When the door was not tied back it was black as night inside the tent. Unfortunately with the material being black it did absolutely nothing in the way of camouflage. In broad daylight we stuck out like a sore thumb but hey you have to do whatever necessary to survive do you not?

“Is it true that in one night you killed three member of Angeli Oscuri?” Malachi asked me. “Oui, c’est vrai BUT at the time I did not know they were Angeli Oscuri. Honestly, I am still not entirely sure what that means but yes the three of them attacked me so I killed them. I would have done the same regardless of them being Angeli Oscuri or not” “Please do not take objection to this but I am surprised the Camorra did not kill you. The last one who broke that rule died a very cruel death. Giovanni-Montoire is no house to trifle with” he sounded like he was trying to give me a warning for future reference. “Oh but they did try to kill me. I was forced to fight for my life yet again before the Camorra. One man clad in all white almost succeeded.” My voice shuttered recalling that night. “All white you say? Sounds like Cavalieri Bianchi” said Malachi.

All this talk of rules and houses was still nonsense to me. “Perhaps you could explain something to me” I struck a match and lit a few more candles. “I will try with the best of my knowledge” he said. “What is all of this? I knew nothing of the Camorra, death dealers, Angeli Oscuri, Giovanni-Montoire or any other house for that matter prior to my hearing. I was attacked and then summoned to appear before a group of people I had no knowledge of where I could possibly be put to death for breaking rules that I never knew existed.  Now I belong to another house I had no knowledge of and have been sent to complete a task with a man that I have only known a matter of a few days. Surely you can understand my confusion” I hand’t meant to pour all of that out on him but to date I hadn’t had anyone totale to about any of these things. I was desperate to know more about my new future.

 

“You truly have no knowledge of our world do you?” He asked me. I could hear the empathy in his voice. “I’m afraid not. The world I knew is long gone and I fear I know only enough to know that I know nothing” Although that last statement was sad it is unfortunately my truth.

 

“First and foremost the rules. They are the most important things you will ever need to know. 1- Hunting and/or killing any vampire is forbidden within Giovanni-Montoire territory. May I see the map please?”

 

I handed him the map and he outlined their territory.

 

“2- Biting a noble or drinking the blood of a noble is forbidden and constitutes immediate execution” he said seriously.

 

“What constitutes a person a noble and how would one be able to differentiate a noble from any other vampire?” With my asking this it seemed Malachi finally realized my confusion in the hallway about the noble and the drapes.

 

“A noble is someone that has been a vampire since birth. They have never been mortal and were never turned. The blood of a noble is sacred because it is the purest form of blood. It is so pure it makes the impervious to sunlight amongst many other things. It is said that the partaker of noble blood or ‘black blood’ as it is more commonly known will also be able to walk in the daylight but the validity of that saying is yet to be known” said Malachi.

 

“Why is that?” I asked.

 

“For as long as I have been alive, and trust me I have been around for quite some time, no one and I do mean no one has bitten a noble and lived to tell the tale”

 

“Please Malachi, do continue” I implored him. This is the first information that I had learned that had any merit to me.

 

“There are very few nobles left. In House of Léon we have only 5. Lasko being the most import obviously. In House Dei Guerrieri there are-“ he stopped talking suddenly.

 

“I heard it too” I whispered. Malachi quickly put out the candles. “I will go check it out. Stay here” I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head and pulled the tent door open. “Merde!” Malachi groaned. The sunlight blasted him when I had exited “Désolé!” I said after peeking my head back in the tent.

 

I heard footsteps in the distance and headed off in that direction. As I neared it became more evident just how difficult this task was going to be. The map we were provided was not entirely accurate. At our current location we were much closer to the Duchessa’s Estate than we thought. I saw dozens of off duty soldiers. Some were gathering wood, perhaps for a fire during the night. Others were sharpening their weapons. Some were sleeping and others were drinking. Nevertheless, despite their numbers I gathered that we had one thing in our favor. These off duty soldiers were seemingly completely unaware of our presence.

 

I hurried back to Malachi and the tent. “Is it as Lasko said?” He asked. I noticed he had packed up all of our belongings with the exception of our weapons and three candles. “Far worse. They must have gotten word that the camorra has been alerted. There are dozens of them” I saw the acceptance of just how hard this was going to be settle in on his face but he seemed every bit ready to face the upcoming challenge. “What is our plan now?” He asked. “The plan has not changed” I replied.

 

We still had some time before sunset and I was still eager to know more. More about this world I would spend eternity in. “The third rule is about newborns is it not?” I asked.

 

“Yes, all newborns must be presented to the Camorra so they can be subsequently trained and taught the rules once they are placed in a House” I stayed silent for a moment and thought back to living with Cassius and Céleste. If Cassius belonged to Giovanni-Montoire, why had he not presented Céleste to the Camorra when he turned her? Especially with him being a noble, he of all people should have obeyed these rules to a tee. What am I missing?

 

“Shall I go on?” Malachi asked softly.

[theeurekaproject]

Physicus

Carina woke up at 0500, which, in retrospect, shouldn't have been a surprise. She never slept well when she was stressed.

Far up above her, the artificial sunrise cast a strangely vibrant orange glow. It bounced off the glistening glass starscrapers and filtered down into the Underground, sparkling so brightly it almost lit the city on fire. Clouds of smog floated up from the darkness underneath, stinging her nostrils, and the acrid smell filled the room, even though no doors or windows were open. Sometimes things were just like that—the poison became completely inescapable.

Because she had an hour before she was actually supposed to wake up, Carina took the time to fix herself breakfast. Aleskynn had given her real fruit, once, and since then, she hadn't been able to stop craving it. Everything tasted awful compared to actual, genuine strawberries topped with whipped cream from living cows. Athena had made fun of her for that, saying that she'd grown too big for her boots, and that was probably fair—whoever heard of an average, run-of-the-mill Scientia forcing her way into the upper echelons of society? Carina didn't have to be a genius to realize that she didn't belong in Aleskynn's world.

Still, she allowed herself the occasional luxury of organic food. It was only human nature to want something other than nutrient paste and sustenance bars (not that Carina knew anything about human nature, or humans in general; she was an astrophysicist, and those things were beyond what she was supposed to understand.)

***

The morning passed by slowly, the air thick and the atmosphere heavy. Carina tried to focus, she really did, but it didn't take long for people to start talking, and then doing any sort of work was impossible. She'd always been a good, dutiful student—it wasn't hard, usually, to pay attention, and she was decent with numbers—but focusing on experiments that had been done a thousand times before felt so useless when the world had so many real problems. Her mother would be angry at her later—all the instructors would—but she couldn't get the thought of Acidalia Cipher out of her head. She'd just witnessed an attempted assassination, and nobody even really seemed to care.

The news played in the background, an endless cycle of bland, blonde reporters droning on about issues that didn't matter. Hairstyles, dresses, celebrities—everything and anything that wasn't related to the Cipher family. They even had a meteorologist come on to say the weather, as if the weather would be any different from yesterday and the day before that and how it had been for the past five hundred years.

"Slow news day, huh?" Athena said after the twelfth discussion about the gemstones on Acidalia's dress. Were they rubies or sapphires? Carina still didn't know, but based on how the reporters had debated it for the past half hour, it had to be an exceedingly important issue.

"I don't see why it should be," Carina admitted. She hadn't been told specifically not to speak about the assassination attempt, but it was always unwise to discuss such things out loud.

Athena glared up at the television screen. "They don't want us to know the details." "Don't say things like that."

"It's true." Athena sipped her coffee casually. They weren't supposed to have coffee in the lab, not that she cared.

"It's not smart to talk about this type of thing." "It's not smart for a random Scientia to go to a place crawling with aristocrats, and yet you did," Athena shrugged. "I keep telling you that those people are bad news. Besides, even if they weren't all psychos, Aleskynn is a straight up bitch." Carina turned white. The pencil she was holding cracked slightly under the pressure of her hands, splintering into two pieces. "Don't."

"You know I'm right. She treats you like crap, and you let her just because you're scared of what she'll do to you if you tell her no."

"Everyone should be scared. She's a Cipher."

"So was Harmonia, and she's still dead."

A hush fell over the lab. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to Athena, who shrugged as callously as if she'd just said the results of last night's football game or something equally as trivial. Then, abruptly, people seemed to realize that stopping and staring, or acknowledging Athena's words at all, was liable to get them in just as much trouble as her, and they all turned away again.

"Don't talk about Harmonia Cipher," Carina whispered. "You'll get us all killed, or worse." "'Or worse.' You're so dramatic." Athena rolled her eyes. "They can't possibly monitor a planet of twenty billion people, Ree. If there are cameras here, why would anyone be watching them? Do you really think Alestra pays someone to keep an eye on a bunch of random Scientias?" "I'm not just a 'random Scientia' anymore, and you know that." It felt like a cocky thing to say, but it was true. If Alestra thought Carina was any threat to her or her daughter, she'd absolutely have surveillance on her at all times, caste notwithstanding. And she didn't like Scientias, or the middle class, very much—everyone knew that. The Ciphers were royalty and Carina was a mediocre astrophysics student, and that alone was enough to make half the court angry. And, yes, it was a complete waste of time to monitor her, but Athena didn't understand just how wealthy these people were. They had spare time, years and years worth of it, and Carina wouldn't put it past them to get so bored with their meaningless lives that they reduced themselves to petty spies. Aleskynn had done stranger things before.

"I still think you're paranoid," Athena countered, continuing to sip her coffee even though she was already jittery from caf pills. "You're way too worried about how they perceive you. Why are you so concerned about the opinions of people you hate?"

"I don't hate them!" she said quickly, keeping her voice quiet. "You don't get it. If they got angry at me, or if they found out I was talking to you, or even if they just felt like destroying someone's life, they could ruin everything for me. They could kill me, and nobody would ask questions."

"They're not going to kill you. Alestra only likes to slaughter other rich girls. She's too good to kill a Scientia."

"Yes, but her men aren't above that. Do you have any idea how many people are under her command? None of them would hesitate if they thought I was a threat to them. Don't laugh," she added, seeing the corners of Athena's mouth turn up. "I don't mean a physical threat. I mean an ideological one. If Alestra thinks I'm teaching Aleskynn dangerous ideas or something, she'd have me—and you—dead on the spot."

"And you call me a tinfoil hatter." "Well, that's because all the stuff you believe in is completely insane! Lizard people and mermaid aliens and all that nonsense about Celestia Cipher—"

"It's all true." "It is not, and even if it was, you're putting yourself—and all of us—in danger."

"Listen, if you want to believe Alestra is so interested in you that she's spending money and time on surveilling you 24/7, all the power to you," Athena said. "I admire your confidence, actually. But I really, really doubt that she keeps tabs on every one of her gazillion subjects. And even if she does, I don't think a five-foot-nothing Scientia could possibly do anything important enough to gain her attention."

Carina frowned. She wanted to believe Athena was right, but that would take a degree of carelessness and apathy she didn't have. Even if it was illogical, she simply couldn't accept that those bright blue Cipher eyes weren't watching her. It was a consequence of being in the same room as Alestra; once someone made eye contact with her, it simply became impossible to escape from her gaze. Her face was beautifully, terrifyingly inhuman—she fell so deeply into the Uncanny Valley that it almost felt wrong to consider her human at all. If she hadn't known better, Carina could easily see herself envisioning Alestra as an angel or a god. She was the living embodiment of horrifying, omniscient divinity, and she knew just how to use her reputation.

Carina wondered sometimes if Acidalia could ever hope to live up to that. The dauphine was elegant and well-spoken, but nothing could ever compared to Alestra. She was simply indescribable. The sheer fear and anxiety she inspired was something Acidalia could never hope to replicate. Her power, her presence, and her incredible eyes overshadowed anything any of her descendants could ever hope to achieve. Carina almost felt bad for Acidalia—there was no way a full-blooded Cipher could hope to supersede Alestra, let alone a barely-legitimate Martian.

"You've gone all quiet," Athena said. Carina jumped.

"Just thinking."

"You're too paranoid."

"I am not."

"You so are—"

"Can we stop talking about this?" Carina interjected. "We have work to do! I have reports to finish, and you should really be analyzing the results from last week's spectroscopy experiment, and—" Before she could finish her sentence, the PA crackled from above.

"What do you want?" Athena shouted.

The line was silent for a moment, and Carina could hear the Ministratora at the other end breathing shakily. "There are some people here to see a Carina-Nebula Julia Maxima," she said finally. "I'm assuming that means our Carina?"

"Naturally," Athena snarked. "How many other Carinas regularly hang out with Principissa Aleskynn Cipher?"

"That's what I assumed. But, um—that's not all of it. Athena…"

"Yeah?"

"Watch what you say." Athena went ghost-white and dropped her coffee, which splattered all over the floor in a sickening gush. "What? How—" There was no answer from the PA.

The white hallways felt smaller, more constricting, as Carina made her way towards the front desk. Suddenly it felt like the walls were moving in closer, and the stark white simplicity that had once been almost comforting became dangerous and alien. She felt like she was headed towards death row—the icy, ascetic, scientific atmosphere combined with the ever-present fear and awe of Alestra Cipher made the idea of being greeting with a lethal injection at the end of the corridor seem entirely likely.

That was ridiculous, of course; Carina herself hadn't actually said anything wrong. It wasn't like she was openly threatening Alestra's regime. She had no reason to dislike the Imperatrix or either of her daughters, and she wasn't nearly strong or charismatic enough to become any kind of rebel leader (or any leader at all, in fact.) Besides, why would she want to? Aleskynn Cipher was her friend, her ally. And, yes, it was true that the government didn't really need a reason for killing dissenters, but if Carina just vanished, people would talk. She simply wasn't the kind of person one would expect to be involved in illegal activity. If they arrested her or had her shot, speculation and rumors would start to spread, and they'd have to kill the whole lab to keep things quiet.

Athena, on the other hand…

It didn't take much to get oneself in trouble when it came to matters regarding the royal family, and Athena had most definitely committed treason. The fact that she even mentioned Harmonia Cipher's name was enough to get her five years in prison at the very least, and that was completely disregarding the fact that she'd called Aleskynn a bitch. Even ignoring all of that, though, she'd openly speculated about what the government wanted her to know, which made her as good as dead in Alestra's eyes. If she so desired, Alestra could come down here and murder Athena herself, and nobody would even question it. In fact, they'd probably worship her for it. It'd make an excellent propaganda poster.

Carina breathed out slowly and tried to calm the beating of her heart. In all likelihood, Athena would probably be okay for now; technically she'd committed a capital crime, but on Eleutheria, treason was almost like piracy. Illegal, yes, but commonplace, and unless she was a repeat offender, the Magistratum would probably let it slide. They had much better things to do than track down every woman who insulted their glorious leader.

But if anyone was likely to be a repeat offender, it was Athena.

Carina bit her lip. If Athena had any sense, she'd know to keep her mouth shut for the next few days. She wasn't that dumb. Besides, she knew the stakes. Even if she never outright threatened Alestra's regime, she interacted with people who completely opposed the royal family's rule on a regular basis, and she knew enough to understand that getting arrested would mean selling out all of her friends. And Athena was loyal to a fault—she'd never get any of her allies in trouble if she could help it.

Why do I even care so much? Carina wondered suddenly. It wasn't like she and Athena were the best of friends. They got along, much better than anyone ever expected to—they were both misfits, though for very different reasons—and they were both strong in areas that complemented each other, but they didn't talk outside of work, and they didn't ever intentionally spend time together. Athena spent more time with her shady Underground friends than anyone from the lab, and Carina had no desire to join her.

Still, the lab would seem empty without Athena there to rabble on forever about the latest crazy conspiracy theory nonsense she'd read on the Internet.

Thinking about this was stupid. It wasn't like Carina could do anything about any of it, anyway. Wasting her energy and time on problems she couldn't change was completely useless. She could stress later, after she let the Imperials know whatever they wanted to know. In this moment, right now, she needed to focus on what was ahead. Biting her lip again, she squared her shoulders and turned the corner to face the main atrium of the Trinity lab complex.

Immediately, she sighed in relief. There were no Magistratum and no police; instead, there was a convoy of about six young women, all wearing matching gray dresses and small ballet flats. They were Ministratoras—they had to be, Ministratoras were the only people who wore that shade of gray—but they looked neater and more put-together than any Ministratoras Carina had ever seen before. Suddenly, she felt almost dumpy and unkempt. It was a ridiculous thought—she was at least six castes above them. Nevertheless, they seemed so perfect, so robotic, that she couldn't shake the feeling.

"Your presence was requested at the palace," one of them said, stepping ever-so-slightly out of formation. She averted her eyes when she spoke to Carina. It was a sign of respect—people of lower castes weren't supposed to look their superiors in the eyes—but it made her uncomfortable anyway, for a reason she couldn't quite place. It made sense in the hierarchy; the Ministratora was an unskilled servant, and Carina was an astrophysics student. Still…

No, Carina thought. I have to stop. Thinking about such things was not advisable, especially so when one was in earshot of women who reported directly to the Imperials.

Stifling any thought of dissent, Carina wordlessly followed the servants through the winding hallways of the Trinity complex. They seemed to know where they were supposed to go, so she didn't ask any questions. At least she wasn't being arrested, she thought. It felt strange to walk through the halls in the middle of the day; normally, she'd be at work at least until five, and by then nearly everyone else would be going home, too. The only people she ever encountered outside of the students in her own cohort were night workers—usually Medicas—coming in or going home after the second or third shifts. But now, in the stark daylight, there were people of all sorts out and about. Other Scientias she'd never even met before freely traversed the crowded hallways, while Suffragium trailed them, carrying stacks upon stacks of documents. Bleary-eyed Raedae hung by the tracks, basking in the artificial sun. Laborum, dressed in black and looking at their shoes, drilled holes in the wall of a new construction site, and a single Villicia screeched at them from the top of a crane. Seeing Eleutheria like this put everything in a new light. The whole city functioned like a well-oiled machine, with nothing odd, nothing amiss.

Then, suddenly, something caught Carina's eye. One television was playing a news alert—just one, lonely screen, sitting against a dilapidated starscraper. It was the footage from last night, except it wasn't. It had clearly been altered. Rather than showing Cassiopeia reaching for a gun, it cut to a soldier in the crowd, someone from one of the AX or TB units. He stood there innocently until something shifted in his gaze and he threw himself at the newly-crowned Imperatrix, tackling her to the floor. Underneath the video was a red ribbon blaring "ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT AT CORONATION THWARTED BY ALESTRA CIPHER."

Carina opened her mouth as if to say something, but she stopped herself before any sound could come out, internally thanking God that the Minstratorum hadn't noticed. That video was a complete lie. Cassiopeia had been the assailant, she was sure of it, and that soldier threw himself at Acidalia in an attempt to protect her, not to kill her. Why would they pin the blame on this random man instead of the actual assassin?

They must be trying to protect her, Carina thought, but why? Besides, this was too little, too late. The people would know that it'd been the Generalis girl. They wouldn't stand for this—

But they would. They absolutely would. Nobody but Carina knew what had really happened at the coronation—or, at least, nobody who wasn't in on the plan. And why wouldn't the citizens believe their government, especially when disbelief could get someone imprisoned?

A chill ran down Carina's spine.

#eurekaproject #on the edge of eureka #POV Carina #Carina #Athena

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Cats in the Days of King Arthur

by Kim Rendfeld

In 5th-century Britain, cats helped humans survive winter, but the way people regarded them depended on their religious beliefs. Romans introduced housecats to Britain in the 1st century. The island already had native feline species: the lynx (now extinct) and the Scottish wildcat (now endangered). But these animals had no interest in humans—today a Scottish wildcat remained wild, even if it's raised in captivity. The most significant difference between the housecat and the wildcat is temperament. Housecats live with us, although we're big enough to be predators. Unlike a lot of other animals, the early medieval housecat is similar to today's domestic shorthair. By contrast, horses and sheep were smaller in the Dark Ages. Pigs had bristles and tusks. While some dog breeds such as greyhounds and mastiffs go back to the ancients, many were quite different from today. Some canines, like a hunting and herding dog called alaunt, have since become extinct.

Cat and parrots mosaic (detail), in the National Archaeological Museum of Naples (by Massimo Finizio, CC BY-SA 2.0 Italy, via Wikimedia Commons)

Cats brought by the Roman descended from the Near Eastern wildcat, a species that hunted mice in granaries about 10,000 years ago. Today's Near Eastern wildcat (Felis silvestris lybica, also called the African wildcat) looks like a large housecat with longer legs and a more upright posture when sitting or walking. In ancient times, the friendlier felines domesticated themselves by hanging out with the humans who fed them table scraps. Just like a cat who decided to live with me and my husband in the 1990s. After my husband fed her, she left a dead mouse on the doormat. A thank-you gift, apparently. We named the cat Ellie, and she went on to become a pampered pet, still killing rodents on occasion. Had she lived in Arthurian Britain she would have had a job to do—just like every human and every other animal. The only pets, as we understand them, were toy-breed dogs for the wealthy who wanted to show off that they could have an animal that didn't need to do anything. I suppose those dogs had a job, too—status symbol. Housecats, along with ferrets and weasels, had the essential job of killing rodents that would otherwise eat the stored grain humans needed to get through winter. Perhaps, it is not too far a stretch for the Egyptians to see them as divine. When the Romans occupied Britain, housecats and other rodent killers played an important role in the international economy, too. Surplus grain from Britain was exported to the rest of the empire. A lot of people depended on cats' hunting skills.

Cat and two ducks, Roman artwork, 1st century BC (public domain via Wikimedia Commons)

Cats had a spiritual role as well. With their reproductive abilities—a female cat can have two to three litters a year, with up to eight kittens—they were symbols of fertility, an important thing in an age when aristocrats needed heirs and people didn't know how many children would live to adulthood. Romans might have smuggled housecats from Egypt, where they were believed to be too sacred for export, and some Egyptian beliefs about the cat-headed Egyptian goddess Bastet might have seeped into Greco-Roman mythology. Bastet, goddess of fertility and motherhood and protector of the home, became associated with the Greek Artemis and by extension the Roman Diana. A dream about a cat was a good omen and a sign of a good harvest. Roman amulets to ward off evil have images of cats. Feline images appear on a sistrum, a bronze musical instrument a handle and a rounded open frame with bronze rods that rattled. Common in Egypt, the sistrum, associated with fertility, also was used throughout the Roman Empire and even as far as London.

The Celts, particularly the Irish and Scots, had their own belief about cats. It's possible the Kellas cat, a black hybrid of the Scottish wildcat and housecat, had something to do with it. In the Highlands, the large black Cat Sidhe or Cat Sith could steal the soul of the dead before the gods claimed it, and the folk had several rituals to distract the creature until the body was laid to rest. At Samhain, they left a saucer of milk for the Cat Sidhe, who would bless the house. Those who neglected to leave the treat would be cursed.

Kellas cat on display in the Zoology Museum, University of Aberdeen (By Sagaciousphil, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Christian clergy saw them as companions—purring sphinxes. Greek monks who came to Europe brought cats with them to share their cells. One of the most delightful poems about a churchman's relationship with his pet is the 9th century "Pangur Ban." The Irish monk compares his hunt for knowledge to his white cat's hunt for mice and the joy each of them feels. In 5th century Britain, religious beliefs were fluid. Pagan and Christian beliefs coexisted, often in the same person. A Christian might wear an amulet with a cat right beside their cross. They might interpret a dream of a cat as a good omen right before they attend sunrise Mass. Regardless of religious beliefs, people would have appreciated how the felines preserved the food supply. That furry creature who killed and ate mice in the granary was still essential. Sources Daily Life in Arthurian Britain by Deborah J. Shepherd Greek and Roman Household Pets by Francis D. Lazenby "Cats were so nice, they conquered the world twice" by Nsikan Akpan, PBS News Hour Classical Cats: The Rise and Fall of the Sacred Cat by Donald W. Engels "A cat that can never be tamed" by Bec Crew, Scientific American The Cat Sidhe by Deborah MacGillivray "House Cat Origin Traced to Middle Eastern Wildcat Ancestor" by Brian Handwerk, National Geographic News "Pangur Ban" ~~~~~~~~~~

Kim Rendfeld's short story "Betrothed to the Red Dragon," about Guinevere's decision to marry Arthur, is set in early medieval Britain and available on Amazon. She has also written two novels set in 8th century Europe. In The Cross and the Dragon, a Frankish noblewoman must contend with a jilted suitor and the fear of losing her husband (available on Amazon). In The Ashes of Heaven's Pillar, a Saxon peasant will fight for her children after losing everything else (available on Amazon). Connect with Kim at on her website kimrendfeld.com, her blog, Outtakes of a Historical Novelist at kimrendfeld.wordpress.com, on Facebook at facebook.com/authorkimrendfeld, or follow her on Twitter at @kimrendfeld.

Hat Tip To: English Historical Fiction Authors

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Trapped between a police state and Al Qaeda, average Syrians explain why they fear regime change.

By Rania Khalek / AlterNet

Photo Credit: Orlok / Shutterstock.com

Supporters of the Syrian opposition have relentlessly demanded that Western observers listen to “Syrian voices.” The idea is that by absorbing the testimonies of Syrians who have experienced the violence of the conflict first hand, Westerners will know how to best help them. Yet Western media consumers have scarcely heard from ordinary people who reside within the areas controlled by the government -- the areas where the vast majority of Syrians live. Indeed, the voices of Syrians like Areej, one of many people I spoke to inside Syria’s government-held areas for this report, present a testimony that is simply too inconvenient for Western media to consider.

Areej was a university student in the Syrian city of Aleppo in 2012 when the American-backed Free Syrian Army captured the eastern half of the city. She had participated in student protests against the Assad regime and was initially sympathetic to the armed insurgents. Nowadays, however, she regrets protesting at all and even blames herself for her country’s descent into war.

“I was with the demonstrations,” Areej told me when we met in Damascus. “At the beginning of the war it was for freedom. But if I could go back to four years ago, I would not have gone out to the demonstrations because I didn’t want the situation to become like this. We regret it.”

Once the armed opposition besieged the government side of Aleppo in 2013 where Areej and the vast majority of the city’s 1.4 million residents lived at the time, they cut off the electricity and the water supply. Life became intolerable. Disillusionment with the uprising turned into resentment and before long, Areej fled to Damascus.

She became even further disturbed by the rebellion after her family’s village Jisr al-Shugour, located in Idlib Governorate, was seized by insurgents in 2015.

When Areej visited her family the following year, she was shocked at what she discovered. Suddenly trapped under Taliban-style rule, Areej was forced to cover from head-to-toe. “I stayed one year and a half without seeing my family. I hugged my father in the street and asked, am I going to get you in trouble for hugging you in public since I am a woman?” she recalled.

The insurgents renamed the center of the town “Slaughter Square,” publicly punishing people there for moral code violations like smoking and adultery. Areej complained, “The style of the armed groups is disgusting. Their beards are like 5 meters long. They think they are living like in Mohammed’s time. They are wrong. And anyway, we are in 2017. They think they are in 1014 Islamic State.”

Many of the armed groups Areej came across were made up of non-Syrian Salafi Jihadists who could not speak the local dialect. In many cases they couldn’t speak any Arabic at all. “There was a group from China, Kazakhstan, another from Pakistan, another with fighters from France,” she said, rolling her eyes. Indeed, there are thousands of Chinese foreign fighters who joined the jihad in Syria. Calling themselves the Turkistan Islamic Party, they helped spearhead the seizure of Areej’s village. But they weren’t alone.

Each street corner seemed to be controlled by a different faction. Every faction spray painted their name on the walls to demonstrate their claim over a street. She remembers on one wall where a rebel group inscribed the popular slogan, “Democracy is the religion of blasphemy.”

Areej noticed that much of the graffiti was scrawled by foreigners. “The groups that are governing the area my family is from wrote their names on the walls in bad Arabic,” Areej recalled, shaking her head in disdain. Her hometown was suddenly teeming with Frenchmen. “Syrian people are dying to reach France while people from France come here to kill Syrians,” she complained.

She eventually helped her family escape Jisr al-Shogour. They joined her in Damascus where they are internally displaced refugees dependent on UN aid. “There are no winners,” said Areej. “All of the countries—Russia, Iran, America, Saudi Arabia—they are playing with us. We are like toys.” Yet she still wants the government to vanquish the insurgents because the alternative they present to Assad is so terrifying.

Worst media coverage in modern history

The voices of Syrians like Areej simply do not fit within the accepted narrative that justifies the West’s geopolitical aims. And it is wholly out of line with the content that dominates the Qatari state outlet Al Jazeera, which has functioned as a 24/7 vehicle for the Syrian armed opposition. And so she and others like her have been ignored.

Like 18 million Syrians, Areej lives under the control of the Syrian government. Seven million of them are internally displaced refugees who have fled from the areas conquered by the insurgents and ISIS. Only about 2.5 million people live under the opposition’s control, while some 1.8 million live in areas dominated by ISIS.

The coverage of Syria by Western media contains little resemblance at all to the lived experiences described to me by the people I met when I visited the areas where most Syrians live in 2016.

Having watched for years as Syrian expatriates promoting regime change from abroad occupy the limelight, Syrians inside the country have developed a strong sense of resentment.

In the United States, two of the Syrians most prominently featured by mainstream media are Lina Sergie Attar, CEO and co-founder of the Karam Foundation, and Zaher Sahloul, the former head of the Syrian American Medical Society (SAMS). Both have been pushing for years for the US to bomb Syria, and have set up advocacy arms to promote their aims.

Writing under the pen name Amal Hanano for Al Jazeera in 2013, Attar agitated for the US to go to war against the Syrian government. She claimed to be speaking on behalf of Syrians but she hasn’t been to the country since 2008.

Despite providing medical services in areas controlled by Al Qaeda’s local affiliate, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, Sahloul’s SAMS has received millions in support from the US Agency for International Aid and Development. Both his organization and Karam have collaborated on Syria with the Zionist and Islamophobic Jewish United Fund of Metropolitan Chicago. They have therefore been branded with the Western media’s stamp of approval.

Attar was a guest on Democracy Now the day after President Donald Trump bombed Syria in response to a chemical weapons attack that the US blamed on the Syrian government. “I am very happy that there is one less airfield for Bashar al-Assad to use to kill his own people,” Attar told Amy Goodman. However, residents near the targeted al-Shayrat airbase told the LA Times that the base was instrumental in protecting them from ISIS.

Zaher Sahloul, another vocal advocate for US military intervention who has also appeared on Democracy Now, claims that SAMS provides medical care in opposition areas, but never specifies that these areas -- like eastern Aleppo before the government recaptured it or Idlib today -- are under the control of Salafi Jihadist groups like Al Qaeda. In Idlib, the Al-Qaeda-controlled area where SAMS supports the rebel-run administration, “schools have been segregated, women forced to wear veils, and posters of Osama bin Laden hung on the walls,” according to Joshua Landis, the director of the University of Oklahoma's Middle East Studies Center.

During my trip to Aleppo, the center of the Western media’s attention and one of the most misunderstood places on Earth, I met Sameer, a 28-year-old Aleppo native and Aleppo University graduate. (Sameer asked me to change his name to protect him from retaliation by extended family members who have  joined rebel groups). He complained to me that pro-interventionist Western Arabs who dominate the narrative come from one of two camps.

“Most Syrians in the West who are today’s pro-opposition activists are descendants of Syrian and Egyptian-expelled Muslim Brotherhood families or they are ex-aristocrats who lost their lands due to socialist policies in the 1950s and 60s,” he told me. “Now they speak out against the government from the safety of America.”

His description reminded me of right-wing Cubans who formed a vast apparatus in Miami to lobby for overthrowing Cuba’s communist government or shady influencers like Ahmed Chalabi, the Iraqi exile who convinced Washington power brokers that he would usher in a democratic, Israel-friendly government if it agreed to overthrow Saddam Hussein in Iraq.

Before the war, Sameer was just out of college and earning $350 monthly as a sales manager. Today, because of inflation due in large part to draconian US and EU sanctions pushed by Western opposition activists, he works twelve hours a day, six days a week and makes about $47 a month.

One reason rebel groups still have fighters is because they pay salaries to average Syrians, especially in areas where the state has been expelled, where residents are most desperate to feed their families. With the Syrian economy teetering on the edge of collapse, the sanctions provide the armed groups with an endless stream of economically desperate recruits. In other words, Western sanctions are fueling the war.

Sameer is among the 18 million Syrians -- over75 percent of the country’s population -- that live in government-controlled areas. Like Areej, he supports Syria’s government out of strong opposition to the religious fundamentalism and brutality of the armed groups, which they perceive as a foreign invasion force that will eradicate their families if they win.

The US media tends to avoid any factual analysis of the rebels, their goals or their extremist ideology. In doing so, they avoid some of the most crucial questions of the conflict: Who will succeed Assad if his government collapses? And what will happen to the two million Christians, the Shia minorities, and the masses of secular Syrians who have no place under the religiously exclusivist rule the Salafist insurgents have imposed on areas they control?

A recently published report by the London-based IHS Jane Terrorism and Insurgency Centre hinted at the answer. The report found what has always been obvious to Syrians living in government controlled areas: the Islamic State, or ISIS, is the Syrian government’s chief opponent and would be the primary beneficiary of regime change. “Any further reduction in the capability of Syria’s already overstretched forces would reduce their ability to prevent the Islamic State from pushing out of the desert into the more heavily populated western Syria, threatening cities like Homs and Damascus,” the report concluded.

To avoid acknowledging inconvenient truths, American media tends to shift all the blame for the conflict onto the Syrian government, spinning out a convenient narrative of a one-sided war pitting a cartoonishly evil regime that enjoys killing children against a ragtag team of freedom fighters who were forced to take up arms to protect Syria’s civilian population. Assad is invariably portrayed as a uniquely evil figure with no rational capacity -- an “animal,” as Donald Trump called him -- while the atrocities committed by his Western-backed adversaries, most recently in Rashidin, where over 80 Shia evacuees, mostly women and small children, were slaughtered by a suicide bomber, are ignored or whitewashed.

For the Western mainstream media, the very existence of Syrians like Sameer -- ordinary people who have been forced into a corner and who now view the government in Damascus as the only thing standing between themselves and life (or death) under Salafi-Jihadist warlords -- is perhaps the most uncomfortable reality of the conflict.

Even the progressive American left, which has traditionally been skeptical of pro-war propaganda, has bought into the mainstream version of the Syrian conflict. Across the political spectrum, from the New York Times to Democracy Now — the supposed bastion of alternative media — we hear strikingly similar talking points supporting intervention. The impact of such coverage on the antiwar movement cannot be overstated. In private, leftists of all stripes tell me that they are afraid to speak out against the destruction of another state under the guise of humanitarian intervention for fear of being mocked as “anti-imperialists” or accused of Islamophobia and “Assadism.”

American media outlets from right to left seem to imagine that there is a democratic mass movement living in Al Qaeda’s Idlib. Or they insist that the uprising was always moderate and democratic until Assad’s bombs transformed protesters into armed and radical insurgents, a common talking point that permeates any discussion of Syria. According to Syrian protesters I spoke to, both of these claims are at best simplifications, and at worst, complete myths.

Two revolutions

From the perspective of the Syrians I met who witnessed the protests of 2011, there was never one single unified democratic uprising. Some protests were led by idealistic young people who wanted basic democratic reforms. Others were religiously conservative and devoted to Islamist oriented demands.

“There were always 2 parallel streams in the Syrian uprising at the beginning. The civil activists who wanted democratic reform and change in the form of a secular state, and the conservative stream, which was markedly more Islamist and sectarian in its tone and demands,” Edward Dark, an activist from Aleppo who participated in the city’s pro-democracy protests, told me.

“The former was mostly urban, the latter rural,” he explained. “As the uprising went on and the violence intensified, the civil movement became increasingly silenced and weak, while the Islamist movement became quickly more militant and radicalized.”

Video footage of an anti-regime protest in the Syrian city of Baniyas on March 18, 2011, for example, shows an imam listing protester demands, including a call for gender segregated schools and for women teachers to wear the niqab, both practices banned by the regime. His demands were met with raucous cheers, applause and religious chants from a large, all-male crowd of demonstrators. These videos were often promoted by US media as proof of Syria’s democratic uprising at the time. But few observers bothered to listen to what the protesters were actually saying.

Opposition activists in the Syrian village of Hula echoed these same right-wing demands to journalist Nir Rosen in 2011. "They were upset about the ban of the niqab, or full veil, on women in public schools - while the medical student complained that the books of the medieval Islamic scholar and Salafi source, Ibn Taimiya, were banned,” Rosen reported at the time.

Of course, there were pro-democracy protests, but the uprising failed to spread along any unified political lines. The revolt presented a mix of religious conservatives and democratic-minded reformers. Depicting these disparate groups as one in the same would be the equivalent of conflating left-wing American protest movements like Occupy Wall Street and Black Lives Matter with the right-wing Tea Party protests or Trump rallies.

According to Dark, “most civil activists refused to support an armed uprising, and either went into exile and remained silent, or became active on a solitary basis. Those who switched to the armed camp did so mostly out of sectarian, or personal reasons (revenge over a death for example). The rest who remained either turned their back on the armed uprising, or actually turned against it as they saw it was now being used a vessel to destroy the country and no longer championed any ideals of freedom and democracy and instead encompassed a violent Islamic extremism that was contrary to what they were struggling for.”

“The wake-up call for me was when rebel groups from the neighboring towns stormed Aleppo in spring 2012, bringing with them a wave of violence, looting and destruction the likes of which Aleppo hadn't seen in centuries. A particular incident I can clearly remember was seeing black Qaeda flags at a checkpoint in my city, and having a foreign fighter ask Syrian people for their IDs. That's when I knew everything had gone horribly wrong, and it was all over for our side of the ‘revolution’,” he said.

Dark was heavily attacked for refusing to support the armed insurrection. “Those outside Syria called me a traitor for turning my back on what they still saw as a ‘Syrian revolution’ as was to be expected from people who never lived and saw what we did and only got their news from social media or global news networks,” he said.

“Most Syrians also seem to think the Syrian regime is infinitely more preferable to the anarchy of a failed state ruled by extremist Islamists. I would invite anyone who thinks the opposite to come to Syria and try living in rebel vs regime controlled areas, or to imagine that some of those rebels he supports came over to his city and took over power there,” he added.

As another Syrian told me, “We are trapped between a police state and al Qaeda. Of course I choose the police state.” For many Syrians they prefer a state to no state at all.

Getting sectarianism wrong

Anas Joudeh, an attorney and political activist in Damascus, says he and his colleagues, not the armed groups, represent the real opposition in Syria. Joudeh heads the Nation Building Movement, a civil society opposition group that works to build domestic and organic nonviolent opposition from within the country.

“I will not accept anybody from Ahrar al Sham or Jaish al Islam or Mujahideen or whatever guy in those ranks to be at the table of the political discussion. If we do that, what next?  Should we appoint Ahrar al Sham as Defense Minister of Syria? They will kill me. I’m not talking about minorities. I, who was born to a Sunni Muslim family from Damascus, will not accept this. They will attack me first,” he told me when we met in Damascus late last year.

Joudeh was ecstatic at the eruption of protests in 2011 but quickly became disenchanted with the sectarian flavor of the insurgency. After some of the opposition took up arms and began to organize into Islamist factions, Joudeh stepped in to help mediate between the government and the armed groups and was close to reaching a negotiated ceasefire. But the emergence of ISIS changed everything.

“Everything collapsed when ISIS took Mosul,” Joudeh told me. “The armed groups in Aleppo and in Idlib said we can’t have any kind of negotiation with the regime now because our guys will go to ISIS and we will lose everything. We have to keep some kind of balance with ISIS. So they said we will not attack ISIS because we are brothers with the same ideology. They are Muslims like us. The whole scene changed. You have to look now for the civilians under their control, but [the armed groups] are out of the equation,” recalled Joudeh.

Joudeh strongly disagrees with the notion, common in US media and among opposition advocacy groups operating in the West, that the Syrian government is committing genocide against the country’s Sunni population.

“It’s always easy to have a simple view of what’s happening. That’s the problem with the Americans,” he commented. “They think it’s all sectarian. But until now we didn’t have this religious war in Syria. If you go to Tartous and Latakia you have almost one million refugees from Idlib. The regime is not an Alawite regime. It’s an oligarchy. It’s about self-interests.”

Joudeh pointed to Aleppo as an example: “The western side of Aleppo [that was] controlled by the regime is mainly Sunni. And they are totally pro-regime. The roots of the crisis are mainly social not religious.”

The stakes

The armed insurgency seeking to topple the government, on the other hand, is exclusively Sunni and has openly expressed genocidal ambitions that Western media tends to downplay, if not ignore altogether.

The insurgency;s sectarianism is even more dominant today given that the vast majority of the rebellion has merged with Al Qaeda, whose leader, Ayman Al-Zawahiri, called on the group’s Syria affiliate to “prepare yourselves for a long battle with the Crusaders and their allies, the Shiites and Alawites.”

Syria may be a dictatorship but it is also a religiously pluralistic and culturally rich society that would be shattered by a Salafi-jihadist takeover.

Mahmoud Abdel Latif al Jamil Ahmed was an Imam in East Aleppo in 2012 when it was captured by rebels. He worked at the endowment ministry of liaisons affairs. He told me he was arrested by the insurgents and charged with the following crimes: Writing in a newspaper they did not like, naming his son Hassan Nasrallah (after the leader of Hezbollah) and failing to instruct his congregants to protest the Assad regime after Friday prayers.

On June 27, 2012, he says he was almost assassinated “because I did not agree with their [the rebels] ideas. They tried to shoot me. They killed 11 sheikhs, four of whom were working with the endowment ministry.”

Another Imam who asked to go by Dr. Rami, added, “They are the enemy of humanity. The mosaic we are living with in Syria is incompatible with them. Those killing Sunnis are the same as those claiming they are defending Sunnis.”

He blamed the Muslim Brotherhood and Saudi Arabia for inciting fanaticism that is antithetical to Islam. “Our religion calls for tolerance and free speech,” Rami insisted. “How far are the terrorists from these concepts?” He referenced the role of Saudi-born clerics like Abdullah al-Muhaysini, whom he called “Al Qaeda’s “rock star Sheikh,” in inspiring rebel atrocities.

In Aleppo, I also met the city’s Bishop Youssef Tobji, a leader of the city’s threatened Christian Maronite community. “If you respect us, please don’t say ‘rebel’ in front of us,” Tobji demanded. “They killed our children, our history. They are terrorists.”

The bishop then turned to me and asked how America, the target of the 9/11 attacks, could arm groups associated with Al Qaeda and then have the audacity to glorify such people as rebels. I struggled to offer him an answer.

Rania Khalek is an independent journalist living in the Washington D.C. area.

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