#when slavery was common it probably felt like it would never end because it was normal to everyone

[nevermindirah]

I've been drafting and redrafting this meta post for weeks now. It's about to be 5781 and my country that was founded on settler colonial genocide and slavery and a deeply flawed but fierce attachment to democracy might go full dictatorship in about 6 weeks and it's time for me to post this thing.

All our immortals are warriors, all have been traumatized by war. But only three of them died their first deaths as soldiers in imperial armies. This fandom has already produced gallons of meta on Nicky dealing with his shit, because Joe would not fuck with an unapologetic Crusader. But there's very rich stuff in Booker and Nile's experiences and the parallels and distinctions between them.

Nile was 11 when her dad was killed in action - that was 2005, meaning she and her dad both died in the same war that George W Bush started in very tenuous response to 9/11. Sure, Nile's dad could have died in either Iraq or Afghanistan, or in a training accident or in an off-the-books mission we won't know about for a hundred more years, but he died in the War on Terror all the same. I had to look it up to be sure because Obama "drew down" the Afghanistan war in his second term, but nope, we're still in this fucking thing that never should've happened in the first place. The US war in Afghanistan just turned 19 years old. A lot of real-life Americans have experiences like the Freemans, parents and children both dying in the same war we shouldn't be in.

I know a lot of people like Nile who join the US military not just because it's the only realistic way for them to pay for college or afford decent healthcare, but also because they have a family history of military service that's a genuine source of pride. Military service has been a way for Americans of color to be accepted by white Americans as "true Americans" - from today's Dreamers who Obama promised would earn protection from deportation by enlisting, to Filipino veterans of WW2 earning US citizenship that Congress then denied them for several decades, to slaves "earning" their freedom through service in the Union Army and in the Continental Army before it. As if freedom is a thing one should have to earn. Lots of Black Americans have the last name Freeman for lots of different escaping-slavery reasons, but it's possible that this specific reason is how Nile got her last name.

Dying in a war you know your country chose to instigate unnecessarily and that maybe you believe it shouldn't be waging is a very particular kind of trauma. It is a much deeper trauma when your military service, and your father's, and maybe generations of your ancestors', is a source of pride and access to resources for you but your sacrifice is nearly meaningless to the white supremacist system that deploys you. That kind of cognitive dissonance encourages a person to ignore their own feelings just so they can function. How do you wake up in the morning, how do you risk your life every day, how do you *kill other people* in a war that shouldn't be happening and that you shouldn't have to serve in just so that your country sees you as human?

We see Nile do her best to be a kind and well-mannered invader. Depending on your experience with US imperialism, Nile giving candy to kids and reminding her squad to be respectful is either heartwarming or very disturbing propaganda. We also see Nile clutching her cross necklace and praying. From the second Christianity arrived on this land it's been a tool of white supremacist assimilation and control, but like military service, it's a fucked-up but genuine source of pride and access to resources for many Americans whose pre-Columbian ancestors were not Christian, and it's a powerful source of comfort and resilience. This Jew who's had a lot of Spanish Inquisition nightmares would like to say for the record that it's not Jesus's fault that his big name fans are such shitty people.

Nile is a good person trying to do her best in a fucked-up world. "Her best" just radically changed. Her access to information on just how fucked up the world is has also just radically changed, because everything's so fucked up a person needs a lot of time to learn about it all and not only does she have centuries but she won't have to spend that time worrying about rent and healthcare and taxes, and because she now has Joe and Nicky and Andy's stories, and because she now has Copley's inside scoop on just what the fuck the CIA has been up to. Like, I want a fic where Copley tells Nile what was really behind the brass's decisions that led to her experiences on the ground in Afghanistan, that led to her father's death, but also I Do Not Want That.

Nile was 19 when Alicia Garza posted on Facebook that Black Lives Matter. She grew up in Chicago well before white people on Twitter were saying maybe police violence against Black people is a problem. She knows this is a deeply fucked up country, and she put on her Marine uniform and deployed with her team of mostly fellow women of color, and maybe she and Dizzy and Jay marched in the streets between deployments, maybe they texted each other when a white manarchist at a protest sneered at one of them for being a Marine. Nile's been busy surviving, and she knows some shit and she's seen some shit but she hasn't had much time to think about what it all means. Now she's got time. And Joe, Nicky, and Andy are willing to listen. (Is Copley willing to listen? I could see that going either way.)

Booker might also be willing to listen. The brilliant idea of cleaning up the rat Frenchman so that Nile can have millennia of emotional support and orgasms sent me down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, and holy shit do Booker and Nile have a lot of shared life experience as pawns of imperial wars. Obviously Booker is white and a man and that makes a very big difference. (Though G-d help me, Booker could be Jewish and France was knocking its Jews around like ping-pong balls in the 18th-19th centuries. Jewish Booker wouldn't make him any less white but it does add a shit ton of depth of common experience: military service as a way for your country to see you as a full member of society who matters, because who you are means that's not guaranteed.)

Booker was hanged for desertion from the army Napoleon sent to invade Russia as part of his quest to control all of Europe. We learn in the comics / this YouTube video that Booker was on his way to prison for forgery when he was offered military service instead of jail time. While we don't know how he felt about the choice beyond that he did choose soldier over inmate, it's unlikely he thought invading Russia was a great idea, given he tried to desert because Napoleon like a true imperialist dumbass didn't plan for how he was going to feed his army or keep them from freezing to death in fucking Russian winter.

I find it very interesting that the French Empire was at its largest right before invading Russia and fell apart completely within a few years. My country has been falling the fuck apart for a while now - see aforementioned War on Terror, growing extremes of economic stratification in the richest country in the world, abject refusal to meaningfully deal with climate change that US-based corporations hold the lion's share of blame for - but between Trump's abject refusal to meaningfully deal with the coronavirus and strong likelihood that he'll refuse to leave office even if a certain pathetic moderate I will hold my nose and vote for does manage to earn a majority of votes, ~y~i~k~e~s.

Our only immortals who have never known a world before modernity and nationalism happen to have been born of wars that were the beginning of the end for the imperialist democracies that raised them, and I think in the centuries to come that's going to give them some very interesting shit to talk about.

Nile's a Young Millennial, a digital native born in the United States after the collapse of the USSR left her country as the world's only superpower. She's used to a pace of technological change that human brains are not evolved to handle.

Napoleon trying to make all of Europe into the French Empire was a leading cause of the growth of European nationalism and the establishment of liberal democracies both in Europe and in many places that Europeans had colonized. Booker's first war produced the only geopolitical world order Nile has ever known and I just have so many feelings ok. Nile the art history nerd is probably not aware of this, and why would she be? This humble meta author is, like Nile, a product of US public schools, and all they taught me about world history was Ancient Greece/Rome/Egypt/Mesopotamia and then World War 2. Being raised in The World's Only Superpower is WEIRD.

Nile the Young Millennial is used to the devastating volume of bad news the internet makes possible. But she has absolutely no concept of a world where the United States of America is not The World's Only Superpower. In order to get up in the morning and put on her gear and point guns at civilians in Afghanistan, she can only let herself think so much about whether that American exceptionalism thing is a good idea.

She's about to spend many, many years where the only people who she can truly trust are people who are older than not only her country but the IDEA of countries.

She's got time, and she's got a lot of new information at her disposal. But there comes a point where my obsession with her friendship and eventual very hot sex life with Booker just isn't about sex at all. Nile needs someone to talk to about the United States who Gets It. Booker the rat Frenchman coerced into Napoleon's army, and Copley the Black dual citizen of the US and UK who's retired from a CIA career that he half understands as deeply problematic but half still believes in hence his mind-bogglingly stupid partnership with Merrick, are the only people on the planet Nile can talk to honestly about, and really be understood in, all the thoughts and feelings and fears and hopes of her experience as a US Marine.

And one more thing before I go get ready for Rosh Hashanah: Orientalism was a defining element of the Crusades and that legacy is painfully clear in current US-led Western military activity in Afghanistan, Syria, Israel/Palestine, you name it. Turns out memoirs by French veterans of the Napoleonic Wars are full of Orientalist language about Russia as well. I am maybe/definitely writing a fic where Booker spends his exile reading critical race theory and decolonial feminism and trauma studies monographs because he can't be honest with a therapist but maybe he can heal this way and become the team therapist his own damn self. I just really need him to read Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and then go down on Nile, ok?

#nile freeman #tog meta #book of nile #sebastien le livre #the old guard #mine #us imperialism #european imperialism #jewish things #antiblackness #police violence #orientalism

[stillebesat]

Wanted

Sanders Sides: Remus, Roman, Logan, Janus  Blurb: Remus knew one thing for sure. No one would ever want to Want him.  Inspiration: from This Post by @recipe-for-thomathy  Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort, Medieval!AU  Warnings: Fire (mention), Throwing things, Breaking things, Captivity/Slavery, Weapons Taglist in reblog. 

The door slammed open with far more force than even Remus was willing to use on it. Mostly because he knew from past experience how difficult it was to rehang that door after striping out the screws in the wood and snapping the hinges more than once.

“What did you do?!” Roman demanded, striding into his work space in his full regalia of King’s Guard. 

Huh. Come straight from the palace? That was different. Remus smirked, keeping his attention on the furnace in front of him, slowly spinning the rod and its molten glass load within to keep it from dripping. “Do?” He shifted his feet to get a better angle, the iron chain around his ankle that kept him from wandering away from the shop clinking softly as he moved. “Plenty I suppose.” 

It was him they were talking about, but to his credit he’d actually been pretty productive today instead of destructive. “Made six vases just this morn--”

Roman took out a scroll, letting it fall open. “You’re on a WANTED poster!” 

His heart skipped a beat at that, though thankfully, Remus didn’t drop the rod. He actually liked the neon green glow the glass was giving off this time. Maybe he could use it to create something far more interesting than a boring stagnant flower holder. Maybe he could make another pair of---no. It would be best to stay with creating the same old same old for a few more days at least. No need to draw any attention to himself.  

Remus drew in a shaky breath he hoped his twin didn’t notice as he glanced to the poster held in his brother’s hands.  

It would be best to not think about what he’d done last night. 

A once in a lifetime opportunity. 

A breath of freedom. 

A dream come true. 

His one and only Cinderella moment where it had felt so right to do what he did. 

Like he’d finally found his calling in life.

And if Remus had any dignity or common sense left he’d stomp down on that siren call and wouldn’t seek to draw any further attention or be anything more than a boring humble glassblower’s apprentice from here on out or he was sure his heart would actually shatter if he ever saw that particular smile again. That particular spark in the eye. That-.  

Remus pasted a smirk on his face, forcing the memory away. 

A dream should remain a dream. 

He raised an eyebrow at the figure on the paper as he pulled the rod out of the furnace. “Ehhhh. That’s not me.” He said, moving to the bench so that he could grab a block to continue shaping the glass. 

If it weren’t for the moustache -drawn a little larger than the little bit of hair he currently had on his upper lip thanks to a small accident with fire earlier in the week, Remus would have thought it was a portrait of Roman since the figure’s hair lacked the tell tale silver streak that marked him as an evil twin.  

No. Roman was the one with the muscles. The one with the handsome smile. With the knighthood. With his star rising insomuch that even foreign dignitaries were falling over themselves to stay in his good graces.

Remus...was just…himself. Stringy hair, crooked smile, multiple scars criss-crossing his entire body from previous beatings and accidents in the forge. Who only had enough strength in his limbs to work glass instead of far more durable, sturdy, and useful materials like wood or iron. 

After all, Glasswork was quite the useless skill when they were in the middle of a war with the neighboring country and needed blacksmiths to create more weapons rather than glassblowers to make pretty cups for parties.

No. Remus let out a slow breath, placing the block back as he returned to the furnace to ensure his current project didn’t harden before he was finished. 

There was a reason why the silver streak had marked him instead of his twin as the evil one. The bad guy. The one who could do no good despite the very obvious proof that Remus could accomplish some good or else no one would be buying the glass objects he created. 

No one seemed to mind that he’d been marked as evil so long as he didn’t go too crazy in front of the patrons when they came to get their stupid little paperweights, flower vases, dinnerware, and sun orbs.

Of course the cursed chain around his foot did a lot to assuage any of their fears of him running rampant. 

If only they knew just what he had done last night. Just where he’d gone. How he’d freed himself from the stupid chain for a few hours to bring--to bring---a gift….to---

“Not--” Roman took a step forward, armor clanking. “It looks JUST LIKE YOU!” 

“Looks just like you too, or did your big fat egotistical head forget we’re identical?” Remus shot back.

Mostly identical. Even if he didn’t have the moustache, Remus was certain people wouldn’t ever mistake them for each other. As kids...probably, but he’d never know for sure since his--their mother chose to leave him out in the woods to die and be found by slavers instead of doing the sensible thing and dropping him off at the orphanage with all the other rejected evil halfs. 

Roman had only been a thorn in his life for the past six months or so after stumbling into the shop while breaking up a brawl that had started at the pub up the street. That was hardly enough time for them to even begin to get to know each other, let alone their quirks. 

Even then, with their on and off brief interactions, Remus knew that Roman only kept coming to see him more out of a morbid fascination of how his life could have been different if he’d been the one born with the silver in his hair rather than wanting to form a genuine familial connection with his long lost twin.

Roman scoffed, resting a hand on his sword. “You know it can’t be of me! I know better than to risk interrupting the peace talks going on at the palace!” 

Remus rolled his eyes, returning to the bench. Peace talks. A freaking ball was now considered a part of those never ending peace talks? They might as well parade the visiting Prince and his entourage around the streets again every day for a month instead for all the good those peace talks were doing. 

At least the foreign Prince was someone different to look at when he did come through town.

And…despite the rather accurate portrayal...Remus couldn’t see why a Wanted poster would be created for him. It wasn’t like he’d hurt anyone. It wasn’t like anyone knew who he was. Not when he’d come in disguise! He hadn’t even talked to anyone beyond---and that was only to explain his--the...gift. 

Unless showing someone how they could see far more clearly was now a crime. No. Remus had had his moment to shine and then he’d returned to the forge like a good obedient mutt to his hovel and destroyed the evidence--most of the evidence--without anyone being the wiser.

“Remus. I know--”

 “No you don’t!” He snapped. “For all you know, maybe we have a third twin brother running around because why would you think it would be me on that Wanted poster, Oh Highly Favored of the King, when I obviously can’t go anywhere?” Remus purposely kicked his foot so the chain trapping him in this place rattled, the sound echoing through the air as he picked up his second favorite tweezers in a shaking hand. 

Not that he intended to use it. No. Not now.

Wanted. 

His brother had managed to...emotionally compromise him and that wasn’t good for working with glass. No it was only for destroying it. A pity. He truly had liked the color on this one.

Remus kept his head down, acting like he was still working as he rolled the pipe back and forth to keep the shape intact. “When, unlike a certain free born goody-two-shoes, I’ve never been wanted in my entire life?”

The Master Glassblower didn’t even want him. Remus had only ever been considered a tool to be used until it wore out. A slave brought in to be worked to death and only taught glass blowing because the greedy old miser wanted more product on his shelves and had to admit as he aged that he couldn’t keep up with demand nor stay near the heat of the forge for as long anymore.

Lucky him, Remus had actually shown a talent for the craft. He could only imagine the sloppy blobs that would be on the shelves now if the Glassblower had bought any of the other slaves on the auction block. 

So long as it meant more gold in his coffers the Master hardly cared whose work was selling. And when the war happened, he’d allowed Remus to keep the shop open while he was off aiding the war effort in the forges nearer the front lines. 

And with him left in charge of the shop...it meant that Remus had finally been able to create what he wanted to create. To experiment. No one was there to stop him. To tell him what to do. To care. 

“What do you mean you’re not wanted?” Roman took a step forward rolling up the poster. “I--”

Remus snarled, hurling the molten glass like a spear in his twin’s direction, watching as the glass on the pole shattered upon impact with the wall, before focusing on the way Roman had stilled, hand flashing to his sword, eyes wide.

Give him a break. He knew better than to throw something directly at his twin, not if he didn’t want to die on the spot for attacking the King’s own personal guard. 

He turned away, tossing the tweezers onto the bench. “If YOU wanted anything to do with me brother you wouldn’t have left me chained here when you first found me!” He clenched his hands as he crossed his arms, resisting the urge to continue destroying things. “You wouldn’t keep coming back to stare at me like I’m a freaking circus act while you pretend you want to get to know me. You. Don’t. You Never Did. So DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME THAT I’M WANTED.” 

No one had truly wanted to see him. Not even with that particular unbelievable encounter last night. It didn’t mean a thing and would never happen again. A shooting star only ever shown for a blink of an eye before going out. 

“Remus.”

Roman had no right to sound so--soo pitying!! If he’d wanted to change things he could have. But he hadn’t. 

“No need to rub it in Mr. Perfect. I know I’m not wanted. How could I ever forget when Evil Twin has been my label my entire life?! So take your stupid Wanted poster and Get. OUT.”  

Get out before he lost the remaining shreds of his self control and actually hurt him. 

The door behind him creaked as it slowly opened. 

“Remus, please. You have to know that wasn’t--”

So Roman did want to see the forge destroyed today. Fine. FINE. He snatched up another rod with a snarl and whirled only to drop to his knees, rod clattering to the ground as he pressed his face into the dirt, heart pounding harder than a hammer to an anvil in his chest upon seeing just who was standing behind his brother.

In retrospect the uniform should have clued him in that his twin hadn’t come for a social visit. Or alone. 

“Ah.” Roman cleared his throat. “My High King Janus. Visiting Prince Logan.” He said formally. “May I present to you...my twin brother, Remus, apprentice glassblower to Apollos, a Master Glassblower who has gone to the front lines to assist the other Smiths there.”  

Remus closed his eyes, pressing his lips tightly together. He was so screwed. No wonder the portrait in the poster had been so accurate despite his disguise. The High King could see deceptions around him as easily as a bird could fly. Of course he’d see an evil twin in disguise and keep an eye on him. Especially after what he’d done--but Remus had been sure he’d escaped notice right after---after----

And to have the Prince--Prince Logan...right here...in his shop---he hadn’t expected to ever see those glorious green eyes again, let alone see the Prince still wearing the glasses that Remus had created and gone to the palace to give him last night.

“So.” 

Remus flinched as footsteps approached him, the silky voice of the High King ringing in his ears. 

“This is our little forge rat who disrupted the ball last night?” 

Disrupted?! Remus fought back the protest rising in his throat, fingers digging into the dirt. Sure he’d stolen the Prince away for a moment to ensure the glasses properly fit. That the Prince could see through them. But he hadn’t disr--He’d been very careful to be good! Even created a fashionable enough garment with colored glass in order to blend in with all the nobles decked out in gemstones so large and heavy it was a wonder the richies could move at all. 

He jumped as warm fingers trailed down his cheek. 

“I would hardly say he was disruptive.” Prince Logan remarked as he lifted up his chin, the corner of his mouth twitching when he met Remus’s eyes, his own no longer narrowed in a squint but wide open with wonder as he traced the lines of his jaw. “Nor would I say that you’re not wanted either, Remus.”  

Remus gulped, heart pounding even harder in his chest. It wasn’t fair how his name on the Prince’s lips made fuzzy embers spark in his chest.  

Logan gently tilted his head back, his thumb running along Remus’s moustache. “There was a reason why I stayed up all night with the royal painter to ensure that your portrait was accurate. And that was so I could find you as soon as possible. But I see,” His green eyes sparked with delight, his other hand raising to adjust the thin wire frames sitting on his nose. “That I was not quite as accurate as I wanted to be, but I suppose that can be forgiven considering my distraction at how clear the world has now become for me thanks to you.”

“You are certain.” High King Janus asked, hands hidden in his gold silk robes, head tilting to study Remus like a hawk studies a mouse as Roman came to stand beside him. “That he is the one you seek, Prince Logan? That he is the one who gave you...sight?” 

“He is.” The Prince confirmed without hesitation. 

The High King raised an eyebrow. “I find it hard to...believe that one born with silver in their hair could be--”

“Remus is the best glassblower I’ve ever encountered, my King.” Roman said, raising his chin as the High King turned to him, unafraid to look him in the eye. “If anyone were to create the ability to see from blown glass, it would be him.”

More fuzzy embers fizzled around Remus’s stomach as he side eyed his brother. Roman...actually thought he was good? At glassblowing? He’d never said anything before--

High King Janus hummed, waiting until Roman broke eye contact before again returning his eagle stare on Remus, golden eyes glinting in the light of the forge. “Considering your own skills, Sir Roman, I would be unsurprised that your other half would be just as creative in his own right. Even more so if he is to be the bridge that finally brings peace to our kingdoms.” 

Remus blinked, fidgeting in place, his fingers digging into the dirt so he wouldn’t try and touch the Prince because he liked his hands too much to lose them. “Bridge?” He asked before he could also tell his tongue that talking was a very good way to get it removed with a hot poker. “What bridge? I can’t--” Surely they didn’t expect him to build a bridge from glass! How would that even work to bring peace? The thing would shatter with one wrong strike of a horse’s hooves! 

Logan smiled. “You can, Remus.” He said before gesturing for Roman to come forward. “Free him.” He commanded.

Surprisingly, his twin didn’t hesitate, quickly moving forward with his sword drawn as he focused on the chain around Remus’s ankle. 

It really wasn’t fair to hear his name spoken like that! Like he--like the Prince actually cared about him. 

Remus fought to hold still, to not look away from Prince Logan’s forest filled eyes to see what his twin was doing with the lock and if it was the same method he himself had used last night to free himself.

“I want you to come with me.” Prince Logan said softly, stroking Remus’s cheek as he maintained eye contact. “To my kingdom. Let me show you how much we want you there. Need you. Your gift with glass, there are so many of us, so many who would fall to your feet to see as you’ve shown me to see. Come with me, Remus.” He dropped his hands again to Remus’s dirty ones, squeezing them gently. “And I will guarantee that you will not regret it.”

Remus made a noise of disbelief, frozen in place, unable to comprehend that these...that the Prince---No one wanted to be around an evil twin!

And yet.

Prince Logan had yet to draw away or show disgust or revulsion upon discovering that he was the evil half.

“If you go with him, the war will stop.” High King Janus intoned. “Both sides will withdraw. Peace will finally be reestablished in both lands.” 

The war would stop? Over him? It didn’t--

Remus drew in a shaky breath as the chain around his ankle that had been his constant companion the last four years fell away with a soft clank for the second time in the past twenty-four hours as Roman took a step back with a faint smile his eyes shimmering with--was his twin actually about to cry? Over him?!  

“But you--you don’t even know me.” Remus whispered as the Prince pulled him to his feet, guiding him outside to the waiting royal carriage. To--to dare he say it? To freedom if he so chose to take it.

“No.” Prince Logan agreed, giving him another smile as he once more adjusted his glasses, the lens flashing in the sunlight. “But I want to.”

#Wanted #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Remus #Roman #Duke #Creativity #Logan #Logic #Janus #Deceit #fire mention tw #throwing things tw #breaking things tw #captivity tw #slavery tw #weapons tw #sword tw #medieval!au #hurt/comfort

[self-loving-vampire]

Geneforge 1 - Mutagen (2021)

Geneforge 1 - Mutagen is a modern remake of Spiderweb Software’s classic Geneforge series, which spanned 5 games and ran from 2001 to 2011. It is notable primarily for its unique setting and quality writing. I especially like how the game does not squander the potential of its premise and explores many of the ethical, political, and legal aspects of Shaping.

Summary

In the world of Geneforge, there is an order of mages called Shapers. Shapers are capable of creating and modifying living beings simply called “Creations”. There is a very wide variety of Creations, built for different purposes.

You are a Shaper in training, sailing the seas in a living craft as part of training. While doing this, you come near an island that has been Barred, meaning that entrance to it has been strictly forbidden (this can happen due to failed experiments, secret projects, etc.)

At that moment, your craft is attacked and killed by a strange ship. You manage to reach the shore, finding that the island you have found yourself in is far from abandoned...

Freedom

Really good overall. Not only do you have a good selection of playstyles but you also have multiple endings and various faction choices. Additionally, you can explore the world rather freely, stopped only by organic barriers such as strong enemies, environmental hazards, and lack of access tools rather than plot contrivances.

Many quests have multiple solutions, and you also often get multiple dialogue options in reaction to various things.

One weakness I noticed is that there are situations where your dialogue choices make for a simple binary. However, this is not such a big deal in the grand scheme of things and this game still does far better than many others in this department.

One thing I particularly like is that while some of the game’s final decisions determine the bulk of what ending you get, your relationships with the game’s three main factions still seem to have an impact on the ending and interact with your other decisions in complex ways.

Character Creation/Customization

On the surface, I thought the character creation of this game was simply good but basic. You can select one of three classes and spend some points to increase your initial stats and skills. There are no backgrounds, traits, races, or even all that much appearance-based customization.

However, after some hours of playing I discovered that the versatility of Shaping makes things far more complex than they first appear.

The three classes available to you are:

Shaper - A specialist at creating and enhancing various allies. They are weak in combat, but can have the strongest and most numerous Creations. They are also decent at magic.

Guardian - The warriors of the shaper sect. They are the strongest in terms of physical prowess but have very weak magic. Of the three classes, they are in the middle in terms of shaping ability, being able to field some Creations but not as many as the Shaper.

Agent - Allegedly the most challenging class to play. They are highly skilled in “conventional” (non-shaper) magic and average at combat, but not very good at shaping, often acting on their own.

Out of these, I think Shaper is not only likely the easiest but also the most interesting and the most appropriate to the themes of the game.  In addition to your basic stats, you can select skills in things like combat, offensive magic, buffs, a few different shaping styles, and three non-combat skills (Leadership, Mechanics, and Stealth).

The Leadership skill serves as a diplomacy skill and also allows you to control Creations with your will. The Mechanics skill allows you to disable traps and pick locks.

The complexity comes from the creations you will unlock throughout the game.

There are nine base creation types (each with an alternate form with slightly different abilities) plus hidden creations you will have to discover as you play.

All creations consume varying amounts of Essence. Often, more powerful creations will have higher Essence costs, and you have a limited amount of Essence to distribute among all of your creations.

You can spend additional essence to enhance your creations with better stats and additional abilities, both passive and active.

On top of that, Essence is also required to cast most spells, so the more of it you spend on creations the less of it you will have for things like healing and combat buffs.

This means that even within just the Shaper class there is a variety of playstyles available. From bombarding the enemy with multiple weaker ranged creations to focusing on just a couple of more powerful ones such as upgraded Drayks, while also keeping some essence on reserve for your own spells.

Story/Setting

The game takes place on the mysterious Sucia Island, which has been barred for reasons you will uncover during the course of the game. You are not alone in this island, as you will soon make contact with intelligent life in the form of Serviles.

Serviles are a common Creation, made to essentially serve as slaves to the Shapers. Many of the Serviles you saw while growing up treated Shapers with fear, awe, and absolute submission.

But that is not the case here. The Serviles of Sucia island are largely “rogue”, and have divided themselves into three factions.

The first is the Awakened. These Serviles remain grateful to the Shapers for giving them life, but wish to deal with them as equals rather than slaves. They believe that all intelligent creations should be treated equally.

The second is the Obeyers, who retain the instinct bred into Serviles and wish to remain loyal to the Shapers, yearning for their return to Sucia. However, dealing with them is still not so simple. If you try to tell them that they should be independent like the other two factions, they will (correctly) see you as a rebel who does not represent the true will of the Shapers or act in accordance to their laws.

The third, and probably most complex, of the factions is the Takers. This is a group of radical Serviles who despise the Shapers. Their name comes from their willingness to take their destiny into their own hands by any means necessary. Many of them treat you with some degree of hostility, but none of these factions is a monolith with a completely unified worldview.

In fact, if you meet the leader of the Takers, you will discover that at least some of them would be willing to forgive everything if granted freedom, they just don’t think it is likely that the Shapers would grant it and are willing to die rather than return to slavery.

And the thing is that this is probably correct. The more you play the more you realize that the sect you grew up in is twisted and would sooner genocide all life in Sucia island than treat “rogue” creations as equals.

One moment that I felt really highlights this is when you meet one of the few Drayks who inhabit the island. Drayks are pretty much Geneforge’s take on fantasy dragons. They are highly intelligent and independent creations, which is the reason why creating more of them was forbidden by the Shapers.

As Sucia has been barred and isolated from the rest of the world for a long time, the Drayk you meet is not aware of this new law. When you inform them about it, their reaction is grim.

The drayk realizes, in that moment, that their entire species will one day go extinct simply because your people will it. Because they were not submissive enough. Not good enough slaves.

The Shapers may have the power to create life, but they are not kind to that life. They are no different from abusive parents who want children to be servants or property.

And this is not even getting into the topic of the titular Geneforge or the other inhabitants of the island...

Overall, I found the story and worldbuilding of this game to be excellent. None of the factions feel one-dimensional and often there are many different points of view within each of them. That makes them feel deeper and more real than many other video game factions, where everyone on the same side is implied to have broadly the same beliefs and there are no schisms, sub-factions, or major differences.

Immersion

Judging how immersive Geneforge games are is somewhat complicated. On one side, this game lacks a lot of the features that make it easier for me to roleplay living in its world day to day.

On the other, the writing and worldbuilding are great and the consequences for various actions sound sensible.

The writing is really carrying this aspect of the game I think, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Gameplay

Combat is in a reasonably good place. It is extremely simple to understand, while still offering some level of depth later in the game. For the most part, combat is also not that difficult unless you push yourself into areas you are not yet ready for.

I do have a number of complaints to make, but want to make it clear that these were never enough to really ruin my enjoyment of the game.

The most significant of these complaints has to do with the way experience is awarded in relation to your own level.

As your level increases, not only enemies but also quests will start granting you less and less experience. I can see why one might make such a design decision, as it means exploration and unique quest rewards will quickly become more significant sources of power than combat alone, but on a purely psychological level I just don’t like to go through a fight and get nothing at all in return, especially since the game does have quite a bit of combat.

This can make some sections of the game drag on. In particular, fights against defensive crystals in a couple of locations can be a bit slow, as the crystals are very durable and dangerous to approach in melee due to how they explode upon death.

Aesthetics

Spiderweb games are known for having minimal budgets, and the area that usually ends up receiving the least funds is the graphics and sound.

So despite being a remake from 2021, this is a game that looks like it was made in the 90s and has no music apart from the title screen’s.

Personally, this does not bother me at all. I think pretty graphics are nice and good music can definitely add to the atmosphere of a game (see Fallout 1 or Planescape: Torment, for example) neither is the core of what I am looking for in a game, especially in this genre.

I do like some of the ambient sound effects though. In particular the corvid cawing in some of the game’s more desolate areas.

Putting the graphics and sound aside, the way the game uses Shaping to establish its setting earns it a lot of aesthetic points, as it ends up with a very unique identity.

For example, Geneforge does not use bows as its primary ranged weapons. It uses living batons that launch thorns. It also largely does not include any generic fantasy races like elves or orcs.

Accessibility

Actually really good, far better than I expected even. Combat is an extremely simple affair, making a functional build with most classes is not complicated, the game’s general mechanics are transparent, and there is both a short tutorial and in-game instructions.

Really if you can get past the presentation you won’t have many obstacles to playing this game. It even has multiple difficulty options, including a casual mode for those who just want to follow the story and don’t want to have to think too much about how to overcome the game’s obstacles.

Conclusion

Geneforge has a lot of what I like in an RPG. Things like character creation, rich worldbuilding, non-linear gameplay, and the ability to make meaningful decisions.

I especially recommend this one to people who want something different from the standard fantasy RPG experience, and also to the type of mega-nerd who will enjoy analyzing the game’s world and themes in detail. There is much to talk about here.

#vampire reviews rpgs #geneforge

[hitbythunder]

Among the Gods of Asgard -1

A dark!Thor x Reader, minor Loki x Reader story with all the drama and angst you’re craving. Including Alexander Skarsgard as Balder. --> Read also on AO3

Summary: The gods are being loved and feared in equal parts by their subjects, more the latter by the thousands of slaves working for them. Ten feet tall, powerful and immortal are the rulers of all beings within the Nine Realms. You, the daughter of an Asgardian merchant, fancy the three handsome princes of Odin - like any woman does - and dream of actually meeting them instead of watching them at public events. That is until, as a consequence of Loki's tricks, you are being forced into slavery at the royal court. Amidst this harsh new reality, you catch the attention of the god of Thunder who then seeks to make you his alone. You are nothing but a toy, a puppet, in the god's eyes and he will use you as he pleases.

Do not hope for mercy.

**** WARNING: dark story, manipulative Thor, heavy rape/non-con elements, no happy ending in sight

____________________________xXx____________________________

Asgard: the golden city at the centre of Yggdrasil, the World-Tree, where the Aesir - the gods - spent their immortal lives in noble estates and palaces. From behind the high walls of the golden palace, the royal family ruled over the city and all the other Nine Realms. Each god and goddess was gifted with special powers and enchanted weapons. Their subjects worshipped them, sacrificing their last penny if need be in the hope of receiving the blessing of the addressed god. Not all gods were inclined to help, however, some ignored the prayers of the common people and a few gods were even considered cruel. The king of Asgard and All-Father of the gods, Odin Borsson, was wise and just but he ruled with an iron hand over the Nine, his word being law to all beings dwelling in his realm. The gods lived in peace among the normal Asgardian citizens and apart from their might, which granted them a superior status, there was one distinct difference between these two classes: the gods were a lot taller than the ordinary people, each of them being at least ten feet tall – the males often taller.

Conclusively, their daily needs, desires and the amount of labor force necessary to satisfy all those were similar to their divine size. As were the pompous mansions and estates, with the royal palace leading the way. Behind its golden towers and walls, numerous chambers and salons housed the many gods and goddesses, the interior fittings matching the royal status of the resident. To afford all this luxury, slavery had become an adequate means and thanks to the many wars, uprisings or revolts within the Nine Realms, there was always ample supply of working hands. No wonder Asgard had become the richest city of all, its wealth being well accumulated over the centuries. Asgard, the city of gods and many wonders. That's exactly where _________ was born as the daughter of an upper-class merchant who traded various luxury goods across the realms. If the gods, or a member of the Asgardian elite, had any special wishes her father would make them come true – in exchange for a pretty penny of course. But money wasn't an issue for those customers.

Due to her father's skills the family had a very good life, absent any worries for money. While ________'s mother tried to teach her brother Einar and her that gold wasn't the only wealth worth striving for, the father succumbed to the former approach. His greed was growing each passing year. Despite being accustomed to the benefits of her father's income, the girl was neither haughty nor spoiled (well, maybe a little). Unfortunately, she didn't realize how the gold harmed her father - how it carved out his soul inch by inch - until it was too late.

xxx

When the celebrations for queen Frigga's name-day neared, prince Balder decided for a special piece of jewelry as a gift for his mother. The stones should be unique, reflecting her beauty and status as queen. But where would the god of light find a fitting piece? Luckily, he had already heard of the Asgardian merchant, Harald Leifson, who managed to obtain even the most exceptional objects for his customers. Thus, Balder summoned the man and stated his wish, stressing the importance of the punctual delivery as well as the quality of the item. The queen deserved only the best and anything less as a gift would bring shame upon the god himself.

Sniffing the sweet scent of a considerate amount of gold, Harald accepted of course and he already had a vague idea where he would get the desired jewelry. Soon later, the merchant returned from his journey across several realms having a splendid necklace with gems out of star-light in his possession. The following day at his shop, when Harald was polishing the necklace before he would deliver it, an unexpected new customer entered. Judging from the rich black silken tunic adorned with little gems and golden beads, the gentleman could only be a member of some rich family, probably pretty high up the society-ladder. “What marvelous piece you have there!” the man with brown short locks assessed as he spied the necklace between the merchant's hands, his emerald green eyes fixated on the glittering stones. “A beauty indeed and worth a good fortune too! 50,000 pieces of gold, hah, that's gonna be the deal of my life!” Harald mused and held the necklace up so that the other man could have a closer look at it.

“I wonder who can afford such a masterpiece... Your client must be truly bathing in gold to afford such like!” the noble man said, those mesmerizing eyes still focused on the jewelry in a fascinated and hungry manner. “Yeah, he better keeps up his end of the bargain. Otherwise he won't get it! God of Light or not, payment is due!” Harald replied in a very arrogant tone and carefully put the necklace into a box carved from ebony, fitting its exquisite content. The brown-haired man's face lit up at the mention of a god involved and with a cunning smile he made Harald an offer he simply couldn't resist. At first the merchant had refused but somehow the velvet-like voice of the eloquent gentleman could persuade him to take this even 'better deal': Harald sold the star-light necklace to the brown-haired man for 55,000 pieces of gold. Since the gentleman had to prepare the trunks of gold at his home estate, the payment would be delivered three days hence – after the queen's name-day celebrations. And as a sign of trust and goodwill, the new customer with emerald eyes gave Harald another necklace of gold and green-blue sapphires which he could sell on to the god of light. Hence, there would be another 50,000 gold pieces waiting for the merchant. A win-win situation.

If Harald hadn't been so blinded by the promised gold, he might have reconsidered this suspicious offer.

xxx

A few hours before the grand feast in the queen's honor, Harald was again summoned by Balder so that they could close off their deal. The merchant handed the ebony box containing the sapphire necklace to the god, eager to receive the awaited gold, but then it all went wrong. When Balder opened the lid he found the box to be empty and enraged he threw it across the salon. The wood shattering into thousand pieces against the wall.

Despite his begging and apologizing, Harald had been taken by the guards and brought down into the dungeons where he would wait for his trial in front of the king.

Later in the great throne room of the palace, the merchant's family watched as the gods presented their gifts to the queen, one item more precious than the other, and everyone wondered why Balder hadn't come up with at least something. Embarrassed and empty-handed, the fair god stood before his mother and had nothing to give except a tender hug and a soft kiss on the cheek. He would make it up to her and the merchant would pay for this insolence. The most stunning present, however, was given to Frigga by her youngest son, prince Loki, who held a marvelous necklace out of white gems that sparkled like star-light in his slender hands. The whole court present applauded in response and Loki, in full awareness of his brother Balder's stern face, proudly put the jewelry around his mother's neck. His trick had worked out just so nicely.

xxx

The very next morning, the king, his son Balder and a small number of counselors gathered once more in the throne room, Harald kneeling humbly at their feet. Never before had the merchant felt this much fear for both his and his family's well-being. Harald knew what the law had in stall for his crime.

Both parties stated their view of the case and the All-Father, being a just king, listened patiently to each. There was no need for him to heed his counselors, however, because the crime was clear and punishment was due. Harald hadn't kept up his part of a legal bargain and as a consequence he had tainted the honor of the God of Light, which was a grave offense against the gods and the royal family. According to Asgardian law, the merchant's reputation and wealth had to be diminished as well. Thus the fitting sentence was a fee of 25,000 pieces of gold for the deed per se. As for the god's offended honor, Haralds' children had to repay Balder for the not received worth of the necklace in hours of slavery. This way the family would be marked by shame for everyone to see, the children serving as a reminder of the deed for the next generations.

Unfortunately, Einar had already signed for the military service for the crown so the burden of the punishment fell solely to his sister _________. 50,000 hours of slavery, which equals 5 and a half years, at the royal court.

#dark!thor #thorxreader #lokixreaer #asgard #fanfic #gods and slaves #size kink #size difference #seidr #drama and angst #balder

[ultrahpfan5blog]

My very belated thoughts on Game of Thrones and season 8 in particular

I feel like I have a somewhat unique perspective on GoT. The show has been such a pop culture phenomenon that I feel that fans have been invested in it for years, either having been book fans who watched the show, or those having watched the show for the better part of a decade. For me, I was never a part of the fandom because I never watched the show until it was in season 7. The books sound great but because I can’t stand reading incomplete series, I have never read them, and at this point, it just feels unlikely that GRRM will end up finishing the series. That sucks because its just the sort of fiction that I would love. I started watching GoT in season 7, and then in season 8. Obviously, I had very little clue what was going on other than the broad strokes and I was watching purely because the spectacle and scale was something I had never seen before on tv. On that front alone it was entertaining. Given the incredibly divisive reaction, I didn’t feel like spending the amount of hours required to watch the show from scratch, but because covid ended up impacting so many ongoing tv shows and movies, I ended up deciding to give it a go. I started a couple of months ago and just finished season 8 a couple of days ago. Its been quite an experience, belated as it may be.

I still feel that I view the show differently than a lot of people. Obviously, its a very different emotional commitment for me, having watched the show in 2 months whereas other have watched the show for about 10 years. Having not read the books, I don’t have the issue of comparing the quality of the books to the show. And given I saw season 8, I watched the show with the ending in mind, so I could understand if the ending made sense to me or not.

On the whole, the show is worth a lot of applause. The production, acting, music, writing, visuals etc... is something I have never seen on tv. Juggling such a huge cast of characters with so many ongoing storylines is an incredible achievement. Say what you will about season 8′s writing, but from a production, scale, and performance standpoint, the show remained stellar all the way through. And for that, I do think D&D deserve credit. I know that is an unpopular thing to say but they still have created something that is truly one of a kind. The show is definitely not perfect, even before season 8. There are storylines that drag, storylines that aren’t given the time they deserve, character developments that don’t completely work etc... but I feel that is part and parcel of every long running show. There are very few that are perfect, and for the sheer complexity of the narrative, its amazing that the show isn’t more convoluted. I do agree that the final 2 seasons are the weakest seasons of the lot. I still think season 7 is very good, and the first half of season 8 I also like a lot, but seasons 1-6 are superb. Its difficult for me the select my favorite season. I suppose season 4 is probably at the top. Its kind of the end of the era season, with the death of Joffrey, Tyrion’s trial, then him leaving Westoros. Arya and Sandor’s time together coming to an end with her traveling to Braavos, death of Tywin, and Jon rising in the ranks of the Nights Watch and becoming a more prominent character in the show. I love seasons 5-6 because of the rise of Jon. Season 2 arc of Tyrion as hand of the King was also excellent. My favorite episodes all come from these seasons. I love the battle episodes, with Blackwater, Hardhome, and Battle of the Bastards being 3 of my favorite eps. The Laws of Gods and Men is another episode I love just for the climax where Peter Dinklage just tears into the scene with his full might. I also loved Pedro Pascal as Oberyn in season 4. He added a unique quality and I was sad to see him not last past season 4. There were a few storylines that I wasn’t completely fond of. The early years of Daenerys weren’t the most compelling, Arya in Braavos was just too slow for my taste, the Littlefinger and Sansa storyline in season 4 also felt like they were treading water and then they backtrack on Sansa’s development in season 5. Also, Staanis was someone who went a little too batshit crazy in his lust for power. Felt a little out of character.

Now, when it comes to season 8, There are a lot of complaints about a lot of things. I will say that the main issue with season 8 is that it crams what should be 2 seasons of storylines and crams it into a single 6 episode season. I think virtually every complaint can be traced back to that. I actually really like episodes 1 and 2. Especially episode 2. Brienne’s knighting is actually very touching. Its great to see characters reuniting and characters meeting for the first time. I know lots of people complained about episode 3 and while its not as good as the other 3 battle episodes that I mentioned before, I still think its excellent. I did not have the lighting problem that others had. I watched it on my laptop and I could see everything. The episode is titled ‘The Long Night’ so I expected things to be dark, but it isn’t as if I had trouble seeing what happened. The episode is incredibly intense and while its a bit difficult o figure out how so many survived and there are some questionable tactics for sure, its still quite a spectacular spectacle. My only issue with the episode is really all Jon related, which I will get back to in a bit. 

I know that Daenerys turning into the mad queen is a huge point of contention for the season. While I absolutely agree that that character arc went from 0 to a 100 way too fast, I don’t think it was completely out of the blue. Knowing the ending, I kept an eye on Daenerys, and I think there are a lot of instances where her first instinct to fixing problems has been to unleash her dragons. She has had characters around her like Selmy, Jorah, later Tyrion, even Daario, who have tempered that instinct somewhat. But that is still a natural instinct for her. Not to mention, in Essos, she was dealing with a fairly black and white issue when it comes to slavery. And she mistakenly thought, her experiences in Essos would translate to Westoros. She came with the idea that the common people would support her without fully processing the idea that she was bringing foreign armies into their land and three dragons, which had not been seen by people for generations. So they had legitimate reasons for fear. So it wasn’t completely out of the blue that she unraveled when confronted with the revelations that she was feared more than she was loved and that she did not have the sort of universal support she thought she would have. Obviously, that was compounded by the losses that she tacked up one after another. Definitely, one more season was required to make that a satisfactory arc, but I don’t think it was completely random. And honestly, once she did what she did in episode 5, she was never going to survive the show. I will say this, Emilia Clarke was outstanding in season 8. She was never the cast member who stood out in seasons past, but season 8 was really her season. While the character development was rushed, she sold every scene and earned her lead actress emmy nomination.

There are some endings which people hated which I understood. Like Jaime’s ending, which people were pretty pissed about, is an ending I quite get. As much as we love the story of redemption, the Cersei and Jaime bond was just too deep and toxic for him to so easily extricate himself. I get why he would be drawn back to her when he knew she was in danger. I think Lena and Nikolaj really sold their final scenes together. I felt for Lena as an actress. As a result of the short season, she really didn’t get much to do all season. Her death scene is really the only time she gets material to chew on. So that was a pity. I think Brienne and Sandor Clegane were two characters for whom their endings were perfect. Brienne becoming a knight of the six kingdoms and Clegane finally getting revenge on his brother was extremely satisfying. Theon’s ending was pretty much perfect. Sansa becoming queen in the North makes sense. The show seemed to be building towards it. Sophie Tuner gets some good material in the final season where you can see that there is a lot happening in her head and not all of it is altruistic. She does have a power hungry side to her, even if she’s not self destructively so. Maisie Williams was strong again. I wasn’t a huge fan of her getting to kill the Night King over Jon but there lots of good moments she has with Jon, Sandor, Gendry, Sansa etc... Bran becoming King of the six Kingdoms is definitely not the greatest ending. I don’t know whose decision it was to turn Bran into a robot and have him do nothing other than sit and stare, but it definitely wasn’t the greatest. I can’t imagine it was a particularly satisfying experience as an actor for Isaac. I did enjoy a couple of moments with him and Jaime, harking back to season 1.

The two other major characters are Tyrion and Jon. Certainly the finale is very heavily centered on those two. I do agree with the notion that they really dumbed down on Tyrion’s intelligence as he makes a lot of wrong moves in the last couple of seasons. But Peter Dinklage the actor has never disappointed. His performance in the finale ranks as one of his finest on the show. There has never been a time when he has not given his all. Him ending up as the hand is pretty effective ending. He is a humbled man, admitting that he’s not as smart as he thought he was. So maybe he would be a better hand as a result of that experience. Jon’s ending is another controversial one. I am in the audience who really wasn’t a fan of how Jon was treated in season 8. Kit Harington was quite poorly served in season 8, which was a bit of a whiplash since Jon was arguably at his most badass in season 5-7 and became a huge a fan favorite. Certainly he took over from Dinklage as the de facto male lead of the show. The character only comes back to life at the very end of episode 5. Part of that is probably the point. That Jon became too bent to Daenerys’ will, as Varys said.to Tyrion. It took Daenerys burning down King’s Landing to wake him up. I get that from a narrative standpoint, buts its dissatisfying from a character perspective when its the final season. Certainly I found it very strange how little role he played in The Long Night, given the White Walker storyline was Jon’s primary storyline on the show. Put aside killing the Night King, a showdown which was promised on the show, he didn’t even do much else in the episode. At the very least he should have gotten to destroy the undead Viserion. The memes about his dialogue in the season aren’t unfounded. But, I will say that Kit Harington is fantastic in the series finale. He arguable has the centerpoint scenes of the finale, the two scenes with Tyrion, and then the scene with Danaerys where he is literally begging her to give him a reason not to kill her and she keeps saying the wrong thing. Certainly Peter and Kit end the season on a high note. Him ending up with the Wildlings seems appropriate because Jon never seemed cut out to be King, nor did he ever want that responsibility. He probably would have been better than Bran, but its a decent enough ending for him. In the end, the way the show ends I was mostly ok with, but the path to getting there should have come with one extra season at least.

In the end, the production and the acting will always be something I will remember. I didn’t even mention great performances from Sean Bean, Charles Dance, Alfie Allen, Stephen Dillane, Conleth Hill, Aiden Gillen, Diana Rigg, Jerome Flynn, Liam Cunningham among many others over the years. So even though I do have issues with the final season, I feel that the good far outweighs the bad when it comes to the show. Its not a show I foresee rewatching any time soon since its one of those shows that requires some digestion and a lot of hours, but I certainly don’t regret the time I gave to it.

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #sansa stark #arya stark #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #tyrion lannister #bran stark #ned stark

[tatticstudio55]

Jon and Dany – both beyond the Wall at the end?

DAY SEVEN (Sunday, August 2nd) Leadership  |  Free Choice  |  DoS: Royal Retirement / Passing the Torch

This is less meta-ish and borders more on the speculative side, but I’d like to discuss a Jon and Dany (potential) ending I’ve never seen anyone talk about before: them ending both beyond the Wall, living with the free folks/as free folks. So, basically, the ending Jon got on the show, but with Dany by his side. I would even go as far as to say that the showrunners might have considered it.

This is not by any means “my ideal” Jonerys ending. That would be Jon and Dany settling on Dragonstone with a bunch of targlings and wild dragons. I do not, alas, think this is where the story is going. I do not expect either (or both) of them on the IT either. On the other hand, an ending with them both beyond the Wall seems to me like it could work with the overall story. There is already some book evidence/foreshadowing pointing to Jon’s endgame there, notably in ASOS when he (forgive my French) “finds himself” beyond the Wall:

“On the edge of the haunted forest, where the tents had been, Jon found an oakwood stump and sat.

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? The sun crept down the sky to dip behind the Wall where it curved through the western hills. Jon watched as that towering expanse of ice took on the reds and pinks of sunset.

[…]

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger . . . he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought.

It was a long moment before he understood what was happening. When he did, he bolted to his feet. "Ghost?" He turned toward the wood, and there he came, padding silently out of the green dusk, the breath coming warm and white from his open jaws. "Ghost!" he shouted, and the direwolf broke into a run.

[…]

He had his answer then.” Jon XII, ASOS

Dany is more of a wild card, but even the show gave us SOME reasons to believe that D&D played with the idea at some point: the pregnancy bait, Dany’s comment in 7x07 about King’s Landing and how “constrictive” the Dragonpit felt, Dany’s “we could stay here a thousand years. No one would find us” line in 8x01. Most importantly, back when I was watching season 7, this is the impression I was getting (from the showrunners):

Dany is a good person at heart, but she would not make a good queen nor would she like being queen.

I do not wholly agree with this, especially if we are talking about bookDany, who would make – and is – a much better queen than she is given credit for, but it looked to me like this is where the show was going with her. Or, at least, this is the message they were trying to communicate. They were not trying to “hide” Dany’s dark turn from the audience by making her or trying to make her bad-good-bad-good-bad-good, they simply had another endgame in mind for the character. I do not want to make this about the show but had to get this out of the way.

Now onto bookDany:

A while ago, I posted a meta where I discussed a pattern in Daenerys’s story: twice she succeeded at something magical, highly dangerous and related to dragons, and twice after she ended up in a desertic environment, thirsting, starving and nearly dying from exposition. Following the rule of 3 (which is especially predominant in her arc), it will probably happen again and – since there is no Great Grass Sea in Westeros – the “desertic environment” swallowing her afterward will be the frozen lands beyond the Wall. It could mean that she will die there, but it could also mean that she will simply disappear there. Her fate could also be revealed to the reader while remaining unknown to most characters. This would fit with Dany’s current representation in the story so far: she is an enigma, a rumor; nobody really knows her whereabouts, who she is, what she is, what she wants, what she has, if she is even real.

There are numerous parallels to be drawn between Daenerys and Mance Rayder, which I covered here. I would love the irony of Dany coming to Westeros thinking she is reclaiming her family’s lands, only to settle in the only part that was never conquered by the Targaryen. There is the (disputable, ok, but) fact that the only region in all of the continent where dragons could turn up useful for tree planting would be beyond the Wall (so frozen soil can be thawed and warmed up for plants to grow there again). Martin hung a pretty riffle on the metaphorical Wall when Silverwing refused to fly across in Fire and Blood. There is this pattern of wildling women making up Jon’s romantic prospects; first a wildling “commoner” (Ygritte), then a wildling “princess” (Val), then a wildling “queen” (Dany, eventually, if this theory proves to be correct). So of course, you will ask –

If this is Martin’s intended ending, why couldn’t the d’s just go with it?

Well, because the d’s never gave Dany any incentive to go beyond the Wall, apart from a brief rescue mission back in season 7. If Dany must end up there, something has got to bring her there and the show scrapped or discarded all of it : no Lands of Always Winter, no curtain of light, no this, no that, no nothing. And once she gets there in the books, because I am quite sure she will, she will not come back. The North is Dany’s ultimate destination. No yoyoing back and forth North and South like what the show did. That was just dumb. Travel time and distances should mean something, even if you have dragons (plus, Dany’s armies would have to travel on foot, horseback or by boat, like everybody else). The closest of yoyoing we have ever gotten in asoiaf was probably with Catelyn, it spanned three books, and she never made it back North anyway.

Did the d’s consider going with that ending? They might just. The clues were certainly there (see above…) but at some point, they must have realized that it would not work with the hole they had dug themselves in.

Now about the elephant in the room

I know some people will think that Dany ending beyond the Wall does not make much sense for her story, which technically (so far) does not have much to do with the lands beyond the Wall. In a way, I agree. Some people would also find such an ending anticlimactic to her arc and a waste after everything she has learned about leadership and politics in Meereen. I also agree. On a watsonian level, an ending with, say, Dany as a queen in Westeros – I think it works. Of course, I do. Where it does not work is on a doyalist level. Dany already had her arc of becoming queen. She achieved that by the end of book 3. Then she had to learn all the nit and gritty and dirty work of ruling over the rubble of a corrupt system while trying to make the lives better for everyone. If Dany becomes queen in Westeros, the same thing will happen again. Different setting, different people, same story. Some people have criticized the underlying message of Dany’s fight against slavery as “only a preparation” for what comes next in Westeros, saying it would undermine the real value of Dany’s work in Essos. I agree. However, the same problem applies if Dany becomes queen in Westeros: then her time in Essos is reduced to a prop up, a preparation, as if ruling Essos were somewhat less important than ruling Westeros. Furthermore, I cannot imagine an ending where Dany, still in possession of significant military forces – significant enough to secure her a crown, anyway – could choose to settle in Westeros without being plagued with guilt over leaving Essos’s slaves behind. I am sorry, I just cannot.

This is also, I think, where part of the “Dany is not a peace time queen” mentality comes from. Dany will never be a peace time queen, not because she prefers war, or because she does not want peace, but because what she is trying to achieve, in these times and places, means a lifetime of war. You cannot undo and rebuild an entire system that is rotten at its core in a single lifetime (heck, even show!Tyrion said this to her, for what the show is worth now…), much less in a few years. Dany is not a peace time queen because she is not a queen that is interested in maintaining the statue quo. At least that is how her time in Meereen revealed her. Arya would not be a peace time queen either. Jon would not be a peace time king. They could never be, less they abandoned their ideals and their ethics for a more comfortable life.

Then you might say that an ending where Dany goes back to Essos works too. It does – once again, on a watsonian level. What is the problem with this on a doyalist level? It turns Dany into a deus ex machina, coming to Westeros just in time to save it, then leaving it right after, as if neither the Others, nor her had ever been there.

The two remaining options are: either she dies a queen in Westeros, most likely during the Great War, or… the queen, Daenerys Targaryen, dies, while Dany lives.

That means that all reasonable possibilities, or choices, to keep on fighting as a queen are taken from her. Maybe her forces were severely depleted during the Great War. Maybe her dragons died. Maybe both. Maybe her function, not as an individual, but as a character in a specific story called A song of ice and fire, was to destroy an old system (AND to inspire others to follow in her footsteps, ensure that her efforts were not in vain, that the first steps will not go wasted, that the work she started will be taken up by other peoples, and others after them, and others after), not to rebuild the new one. There is nothing inherently wrong with that. Frodo Baggins’ role in The Lord of the Rings was to destroy something evil. His gardener Sam was the one who planted the trees and went on to become a mayor afterward. One was a destroyer and the other was a builder, but in the end, they were both heroes.

Not to mention that Frodo did not die at the end. You could say that he went on to live beyond the Wall too.

#ADOS speculation #jonerysweek2020 #jonerysweek #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf #jonerys #bookjonerys

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 6 of 26

Title: The Killing Moon (Dreamblood #1) (2012)

Author: N. K. Jemisin

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, First-Person, Third-Person, Female Protagonist, LGBT Protagonist, Asexual Protagonist.

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 2/07/2021

Date Finished: 2/13/2021

Peace is sacred in the walled city-state of Gujaareh, and must be maintained at any cost. The Gatherers are a priesthood tasked with maintaining this goal. In the name of Hananja, Goddess of the moon, they walk the city at night and harvest Dreamblood-- the magic of dreams-- from Gujaareh's denizens. They bring the peace of death to those who need it... and to those judged criminal or corrupt.

But something else haunts Gujaareh's streets. A Reaper, a rogue Gatherer driven to endless madness and hunger from Dreamblood, is preying on the innocent, casting their souls into an eternal nightmare. Ehiru, one of the elder Gatherers, finds himself caught in the middle of a political conspiracy between his priesthood, the holy Prince, and the monstrous Reaper. An insidious corruption runs deeper than Ehiru knows-- and it may be too late to stop. 

The Gatherer’s eyes glittered in her memory, so dark, so cold--but compassionate, too. That had been the truly terrifying thing. A killer with no malice in his heart: it was unnatural. With nothing in his heart, really, except the absolute conviction that murder could be right and true and holy. 

Full review, major spoilers, and content warnings under the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Graphic depictions of violence, gore, death, warfare, and murder-- including death of children and mass murder. Discussions of p*dophilia/grooming (nothing graphic). Brief reference to r*pe. One character is a minor infatuated with a much older character-- not reciprocated. Rigid gender and social roles, including slavery. Magic-induced addiction and withdrawal. Loss of sanity/altered mental states/mind control/gaslighting.

Last year I read N. K. Jemisin's short story collection How Long 'Til Black Future Month?  One of my favorite stories was The Narcomancer, which explored a vibrant, ancient Egypt-inspired world with themes of faith, dreams, violence, and duty. I wanted to read more from the universe, and finally got to do so with The Killing Moon, the first book in the Dreamblood duology.

Jemisin's creativity in worldbuilding is, in my opinion, unmatched in the fantasy genre. I thought Gujaareh was super interesting and fleshed out. While the ancient Egypt inspiration is obvious, it's also clearly an original fantasy culture in its own right. Everything from religious practices to social castes to gender roles to the fucking architecture felt methodical and thought out. The base premise of assassin priests compassionately harvesting magic from people is a fascinating idea and totally gripping. The pacing is a little slow, but I didn't mind so much because learning about the world was so fun.

While there's a hefty amount of worldbuilding exposition in the story, Jemisin doles out information gradually. Bits and pieces of Gujaareen law, etc are introduced at the beginning of each chapter, and usually have a thematic connection to the events of the story. Information is sparing at times, meaning that one doesn't have a full picture of how everything ties together until pretty far into the story. Even something as crucial as the dream-based magic system isn't fully realized until near the end. I like the mystery of this approach, and I can appreciate how difficult it must be to keep the reader invested vs frustrating them with a lack of info. Jemisin consistently does a great job with this in everything I've read by her.

I did want a little bit more from the narcomancy aspect of the story, since dream worlds are such a huge part of Gujaareen religion and culture. In The Killing Moon we see just a few dreamscapes, and then only briefly. There's so much potential with narcomancy as a magic system, yet most of what we see is an outside, "real-world" perspective, which isn't terribly unique compared to other kinds of magic. Dreamblood being a narcotic (heh) with some Extra Fantasy Stuff is interesting, but I wanted more. Perhaps The Shadowed Sun expands on this. 

Characterization is the other Big Thing with this book, as it's very much a character-driven story. Overall I'm torn. There's some things I really liked, and others that felt underdeveloped. I'll go over my favorite things first.

Ehiru is probably the strongest of the main cast, and I really enjoyed his character arc. Here's a guy who is completely devoted to his faith, regardless of what others may think of it. Yet he's not a self-righteous dick. He sees Gathering as a loving and holy thing, so when he errs in the line of duty, it totally consumes him. And things just get worse and worse for him as the story progresses. Say what you will about the Gatherers and the belief system of Gujaareh; Ehiru comes off as intensely caring, devoted, and compassionate, and I genuinely felt bad for him throughout the novel. I'm not religious but these kinds of faith narratives are super interesting to me.

Looking at characterization as a whole, I appreciate The Killing Moon's gray morality. No one in the story is wholly good or evil. The Gatherers are an obvious example, considering they murder people in the dead of night in the name of their Goddess-- but do so to help those in need. Despite being a megalomaniacal mass-murderer, the Prince has believable reasons for his horrific actions, and they’re not wholly selfish. Even the Reaper is a clear victim of Dreamblood's addictive and mind-altering nature; it sometimes regresses into the person it used to be, which is sad and disturbing. There's a lot of moral complexity in the characters and the laws and belief systems they follow. This kind of nuanced writing is much more interesting to read than a black and white approach.

Beyond this, though, I struggled to connect with the other leads. Nijiri's utter devotion to Ehiru is basically his whole character, and while the tragedy of that is interesting for its own reasons, I kept wanting more from him. Sunandi is a good "outsider perspective" character but I had a hard time understanding her at times. For example, the two most important people in her life, Kinja and Lin, die in quick succession. Yet besides a brief outburst when Lin dies, this barely seems to affect her. I get people mourn in all kinds of ways but it seems odd. Her sexual tension with Ehiru is also weird and underdeveloped. Perhaps this is meant to be a callback to The Narcomancer, but it doesn't accomplish much in this narrative.

Another issue I had was emotional connection to minor-yet-important characters. Kinja dies offscreen before the story, yet is supposed to be a big part of Sunandi's past (and thus emotional arc). But he's never even in a flashback, so I never felt WHY he mattered to her. Una-une is the big one, though. It's pretty easy to figure out he's the Reaper by process of elimination, but he's barely in the story outside of a few early mentions. There's this part near the end that's clearly meant to be an emotional moment; Ehiru realizes his (apparently beloved) mentor Una-une is the horrific monster, and thus a foil to the situation between himself and Nijiri. But we never saw the relationship between Ehiru and Una-une, and nothing really established this prior... so there's no emotional payoff. It felt at times like this book was part of a much longer story that for whatever reason we never got to see. In some ways that can be useful to make the world and history seem vast, but here it made me feel emotionally distant from several characters. Perhaps flashbacks with these important characters would have helped bridge the gap. 

Credit where it's due, though; it's clear a lot of the dark, often brutal tone and stylistic flair in The Killing Moon was adapted into Jemisin's fantastic Broken Earth trilogy. Probably the most notable are the cryptic interlude chapters told from the perspective of a mysterious character whose identity is unknown until the end. We learn bits and pieces of the beliefs and lore of the world through excerpts of common laws and wisdom. I also liked the occasional stream-of-consciousness writing during tense or surreal moments. The Broken Earth is an improvement overall, but I can appreciate The Killing Moon for establishing some of these techniques early.

I enjoyed this book overall and am planning to read The Shadowed Sun. While I have some criticisms about The Killing Moon, I think it just suffers in comparison to other works I've read by Jemisin. It was still an entertaining and intense read, with a captivating and original world. It's not a story for the faint of heart, though, so please mind the content warnings.  

#taylor reads #8/10 #2021 reading challenge

[percontaion-points]

Firelight chapters 3 & 4

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 3

Mom is at my side, sliding a second blanket around me. “What were you thinking?” It’s this voice, so critical, so cutting, that I hate. “Tamra and I were worried sick. Do you want to end up like your father?” She shakes her head fiercely, determination hot in her eyes. “I’ve already lost a husband. I won’t lose a daughter, too.”

I know an apology is expected, but I would rather swallow nails. It’s this I’m running from—a life of disappointing my mother, of stifling my true self. Of rules, rules, and more rules.

Part of me gets why Jacinda would have run off like that.

But mostly I'm on team “Damn bitch, did you want to kill yourself that badly?”

(It's all over for you when you start agreeing with the parents in YA novels.)

Something I can’t decipher.

A dark shiver licks up my spine.

Chapter 3 summary: Jacinda waits in the cave for probably hours, long past when she hears the hunters leave. She doesn't want for them to linger. Despite all of what happened, she can't help but feel drawn to Will, because of course she does.

She finally leaves and goes back to where she and Azure had left their things. She tries not to think about the hunters possibly getting her friend, and only thinks that Azure ran off to safety.

As she walks along with her bike, she's approached by all of the adults. Their worry for her quickly turns to anger. Some of them say that they're going to punish Jacinda, with a punishment that is currently unknown to her. But her mom seems to know what they're talking about, and begs for them to not do that.

Chapter 4

Az is waiting for us at our house, pacing the front porch in tattered jeans and a blue tank top that doesn’t come close to competing with the glossy blue streaks in her dark hair.

What does this even mean?

Leaving the pride is no big deal for Mom and Tamra. I know that at once. Mom deliberately killed her draki years ago, let it wither away from inactivity once it became obvious Tamra would never manifest. I guess she did it so my sister wouldn’t feel so alone. An act of solidarity.

I’m the only one who feels connected to the pride. The one who will suffer if we leave.

“Don’t you see how much easier, how much safer it will be if you just let your draki go?”

I jerk as if slapped. “You want me to deny my draki? Become like you?” A dormant draki passing for human? I toss my head side to side. “I don’t care where you take me, I won’t do that. I won’t forget who I am.”

We are literally four chapters in, and I have yet to see anything in favor of being a draki. All I see is being forced into hiding in a shitty community which is probably ruled by a bunch of poopy-headed idiots, and they're constantly being hunted and either killed or sold into slavery.

Why the hell isn't everybody doing all of this to begin with? This is such a shitty way to live.

Plus, I'd also like to add that not even a chapter earlier, Jacinda was whining about all of the dumb rules and that she felt smothered by them. You'd think she'd jump at a chance to get away from that... And Cassian.

I would be like that. A phantom draki, tormented with the memory of what I once was.

Chapter 4 summary: They go back to the draki village, which is protected by one draki who has the power to cast a magical mist over everything that hides them. Azure is waiting for them at their house with Jacinda's identical twin sister, Tamra. Tamra is fully human, which is something that's becoming more and more common as of late.

After getting rid of Azure, the mom tells the girls that they're to pack their things, because they're going to leave forever. They're going to stop being draki, which you can do if you just never transform enough. The mom has already done this, after the husband/father disappeared a few years earlier.

However, as you might expect “YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, MOM.” Jacinda puts up a huge fight over the entire thing. The mom says that she wanted to do it right after the dad disappeared, but had been holding out hope that he would come back to them. She goes on to say that Cassian and his father, the town leader, only view Jacinda as a “breeding mare”, and want her to pop out as many fire-breathing draki babies as possible.

Eventually, the three of them steal out in the middle of the night. The village protector's house is right by the gate, and Jacinda kind of hopes that they'll get caught. However, the lady does appear in the window, but she kind of acts like she doesn't see them or whatever is happening. They get into the car and drive off into the night.

#Firelight series #Firelight (Firelight 1) #chapter 03 #chapter 04 #Jacinda #peak dumbass #Will (Firelight) #Azure #weird description writing #shitty society is shitty #HEADDESKING #Tamra

[nevermindirah]

Non-Jewish friends, y’all might be wondering right now: Israel is doing clearly unacceptable shit to Palestinians. So, why are some Jews ardent Zionists, and why do some Jews seem to feel personally attacked by criticism of Israel?

A lot of (non-Palestinian) non-Jews have asked me where I stand on Israel/Palestine over the years, apropos of nothing, just because I’m Jewish. For the longest time I felt so stuck because I just didn’t know much about Israel/Palestine and what little I did know turned out to be largely misinformation and I felt so much pressure to say The Correct Thing That All Jews Should Say About This Issue. Obviously the violence Israel is committing against Palestinians is horrific and the interpersonal weirdness individual Jews might experience as people discuss Israel’s horrific violence doesn’t compare. I’m making this post as a small supplement to the important conversations going on about what Israel is doing to Palestinians in East Jerusalem, Gaza, and the West Bank, as well as Palestinian citizens of Israel and Palestinian refugees and their descendants living outside land Israel controls. I’m making this post because non-Jews might be feeling confused by conflicting messages about Zionism as either settler colonialism or Jewish self-determination. It sucks feeling like you have to choose only one oppressed group or another. It’s possible to support Palestinian liberation and Jewish liberation at the same time! Here’s some context that might help.

Palestinian friends will probably want to ignore this post, y’all shouldn’t have to deal with your oppressors’ feelings, and especially not right now.

Zionism is the ideology behind the devastating violence Israel is committing against Palestinians right now and has been committing against Palestinians since 1947-48. It’s heartbreaking and messy to talk about this reality, because Zionism originated as a strategy to protect Jews from antisemitism.

Any oppressed group can turn into oppressors under enough pressure, because humans are flawed. Jews fleeing antisemitism turning into Israelis ethnically cleansing Palestinians happened because Zionism is profoundly influenced by its time and place of origin: 19th century Europe.

Europe invented antisemitism, and basically every European country has done at least one very very bad structural antisemitism, like expelling all the country's Jews (the monarch and/or the church then stole all the wealth the expelled people had to leave behind), looking the other way when peasants murdered a bunch of Jews as an outlet for their frustration with the actual (non-Jewish) ruling class, banning Jews from owning property or holding certain jobs or being members of guilds etc, and of course the big horrific state-sponsored mass-murder operations the Inquisition and the Holocaust. From the 1790s through the 19th century different European governments emancipated their Jews, ie removed legal barriers to full citizenship and economic participation. But this didn't end antisemitism. Just like the legal improvements of the 19th and 20th centuries didn't end antiblackness in the United States.

Also happening in this time: nationalism swept Europe. From the French Revolution through the end of World War I, Europe’s predominant form of government transformed from multiethnic empires to nation-states, countries led by and for a particular ethnic group.

So this Austro-Hungarian dude Theodor Herzl came up with this idea for Jewish nationalism. Every other European ethnic group is getting their own country, so why not Jews? Maybe this is the solution to antisemitism! Maybe we’ll finally be safe if we just all move en masse out of Europe to a place that will take all of us and never expel us!

But also also happening in Europe and around the world in this time: European imperialism and white supremacist settler colonialism. Chattel slavery saw its height and then its end (legally, at least) during this era, but white supremacy entrenched itself across the planet in post-slavery economic practices and cultural imperialism as well as national and international laws.

I believe countries have a moral obligation to take in as many refugees as they can squeeze in. International law protecting refugees has evolved a lot over the past century, but we’re still devastatingly far from every refugee getting a safe place to call home, and the main reason for that is white supremacy. The Biden administration didn’t undo the Trump administration’s horrifically low cap on refugees until like last week and it’s because Democratic party leaders treat centrist white people as more valuable voters than the huge and growing numbers of people of color, immigrants, LGBT people, unmarried women, and working class people who want to vote for elected leaders who get that nobody’s free until we’re all free. Ahem. Back to the topic at hand, the US and many other countries turned away untold numbers of refugees fleeing the fucking Holocaust, so odds are slim they’d be more welcoming in less desperate times. Moving from places where Jews are an unwanted minority to places where Jews are still a minority and either still unwanted or little understood and unlikely to win revolutionary levels of support from a largely non-Jewish public seems like a bad plan.

In the mid to late 19th century, lots of Jews took the kernel of Zionism and ran with it in different directions. Maybe this ideology could mean Jewish cultural flourishing alongside stronger political/economic integration into the societies where we’re already living! Maybe it could mean a particular kind of socialism that advocates for the liberation of Jews both as Jews and as workers! Maybe it could mean a revitalization of Jewish religious practice both in Jerusalem where we have important heritage sites and everywhere we live across the world!

Eventually Herzl’s vision of Zionism won out over the others: Jewish nationalism in the sense of a Jewish nation-state, a country that has a Jewish demographic majority and/or that legally privileges Jews over non-Jews.

Problem is, if you want to do that, you have to find a piece of land on which to do it, and Earth was already a pretty crowded place a hundred years ago. Many locations were considered, and the one that ended up winning that debate was Palestine. Where a shit ton of people, mostly non-Jews, were already living. They were forming their own nationalist movement at the time: in the waning days of the Ottoman Empire they began to organize for local self-determination in Palestine.

The Herzl types who developed Zionism as an ideology and built institutions to advocate for and create a Jewish ethnostate in Palestine were a small subset of European Jews, mostly men, mostly with significant economic privilege within what Jews were able to achieve in their particular societies at the time. They were just as Orientalist as the non-Jews around them, just as antiblack, just as racist generally for all that Jews were (and sometimes still are) considered non-white in much of Europe. They had a cool idea (put a lot of effort into something that could protect Jews from antisemitism) floating in a bathtub full of shit, and they did practically nothing to protect the cool idea from absorbing that shit. Results of this include thinking about the millions of people already living in Palestine as if they were either like the rocks and the trees that will go with the flow and accept a new ruling class, or indistinct Arabs who would just leave for other Arab countries because what could be the difference — in the staggeringly small amount of time they considered the existing residents of Palestine at all.

This racist hand-waving extended to Zionist leaders’ attitudes about Jews outside Europe as well. White Jews in settler colonies like the US were largely anti-Zionist at the time (not wanting their own countries to accuse them of dual loyalty was a common reason) but European Zionist leaders took what help they could get from Jews in the US, South Africa, Australia, etc. Jews across the Middle East and North Africa, however, barely heard from Zionist leaders about any of this until Zionist militias had removed enough Palestinians from the land and it was time to repopulate it with whichever Jewish bodies were convenient. You might have heard "all the Arab countries expelled their Jews in 1948" but lots of first-person accounts tell a different story of Israel coercing Jews who’d lived securely for a long time in places like Morocco to immigrate to Israel and then confiscating their passports and forcing them to live on less-fertile land with fewer resources while serving as a buffer between Palestinians and European Jewish immigrants. Ella Shohat is the best-known writer on Israeli racism against non-European Jews and I strongly recommend Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the Perspective of Its Jewish Victims as a starting point to learn more about this.

Which brings us to today. We still haven’t eradicated antisemitism, several European governments that did a lot of structural antisemitism they still haven’t made meaningful reparations for get to feel good about themselves for “giving the Jews a state” as if carving up the former Ottoman Empire was up to them and not the people who lived there, and millions of people across the world who previously either lived peacefully enough alongside Jews or hadn’t really thought about us much at all now have very valid reasons to be pissed at this country that claims it represents all of us.

Zionism was supposed to protect Jews from antisemitism. And Israel has saved Jewish lives! But if we hadn’t sunk the past 70+ years into an ethnostate we could’ve been putting that energy into other political and economic activity to create adequate international support for refugees while we work on ending root causes of refugee crises, like antisemitism, racism, climate change, and capitalism. Meanwhile Zionism has killed, maimed, incarcerated, stolen from, traumatized, and erased the history of millions of Palestinians just because they happened to be living on land that some dudes who had a lot more in common with Thomas Jefferson and Donald Trump than with you or me decided needed to be cleansed for a Jewish ethnostate.

White nationalists in the US love Israel because they want American Jews to go away. Fascist leaders across Europe love Israel for the same reason, so much so that Israel’s prime minister is buddy-buddy with Trump and the equivalent shitstains of several European far-right parties. And I don’t know what it’s like in other white supremacist countries that are close allies of Israel, but the overwhelming majority of Zionist lobbying that pushes the US to give so much aid to Israel comes from Evangelical Christians, because they believe all the Jews have to be in the Holy Land for Jesus to come back. No thanks.

This whole thing fucking sucks. Jews and Palestinians, like all human beings, deserve to be free. Many Jews are understandably afraid of what might happen next if Israel decided to give up on ethnonationalism, allow Palestinian refugees to return, make reparations, and establish a pluralistic democracy that represents and protects all its residents — will some Palestinians murder Jews in revenge? That’s genuinely fucking scary. And it’s genuinely fucking scary to be a Palestinian in Israel/Palestine, and has been for over 70 years. We’ve gotta do something different. I say that as a white person sitting on land stolen from Piscataway people who has thought in detail about what portion of my income would be reasonable for my government to tax in order to fund reparations for the descendants of enslaved people.

Ok. One final piece of context before I wrap this up.

Most Jewish institutions in the US are explicitly Zionist, teach children that Zionism is THE way to ensure Jewish safety, and increasingly tell non-Zionist Jews that we're unwelcome or even that we’re not “real” Jews. This comes in a context where it’s only been 76 years since the latest and most gruesome of several attempts to wipe our entire people off the face of the planet. If you grew up in that environment, you, too, might be jumpy about even hearing the words Zionism or Israel, let alone considering the devastation this ideology and country have caused Palestinians.

Jews have a right to exist. Jews have a millennia-old connection to this scrap of land in the Levant, and we have a right to access religiously and culturally important geographic landmarks. What we don't have a right to is murdering or expelling other people in order to make an ethnostate, on that land or any other. Zionism is settler colonialism, but it’s settler colonialism by and for people who have a valid need for protection from structural antisemitism, which means that it’s going to take a lot of messy empathy to undo. The members of my extended family who voted for Trump (non-Jews in my case, though Jared Kushner isn’t the only Jewish Trumpite) are afraid that ending white supremacy will demote them from a privileged class to equal footing with everyone else — that’s the kind of fear individuals work on in therapy, not the kind that’s reasonable for a whole society to prevent from happening. I and millions of Jews do deserve for whole societies to work hard to end antisemitism.

I would never and will never ask a Palestinian to gently request their liberation. But if you’re not Palestinian, and you’ve got a little extra empathy to spare this week, I ask you to remember what I’ve shared here when interacting with Jews about Israel/Palestine.

If you’re a fellow Jew reading this and you feel like Israel is the only way to guarantee our safety, all I ask of you is to sit with the idea that what Israel is doing to Palestinians is too high a cost for safety that’s still not guaranteed, and start to imagine real-world ways we can protect our people from antisemitism without an ethnostate.

I made this post for people who know me (or know of me I guess?) in Old Guard and Cap fandom, despite my better judgment, because talking about Jewish Booker and Jewish Bucky and Jewish Natasha makes me so happy and I think some of the people I love on these characters with might appreciate this perspective. I didn’t provide any links in this post on purpose (to decrease its usefulness, so fewer people will reblog it) because the risk of anon hate when talking about Zionism outside my immediate fandom circles is so high. You’re welcome to reblog this post if you find it helpful! Unless you’re not within a few concentric circles of me, in which case, maybe don’t? If seeing this post makes you want to send me anon hate, no need: many people who share your perspective have already done so on Twitter.

Reliable sources on all this info are a few googles away, and I apologize for the things I know I oversimplified as well as any things I might have misremembered. I’m an American who’s never lived in Israel/Palestine who is posting this on my fandom blog.

TL;DR: This is a short ‘n pithy post about the same idea.

TL;DR, fandom edition: The shortest distillation of this anti-Zionist Jew’s feelings on the matter can be found in segment 4 of Five Times Booker Got Wasted on Purim and One Time He Didn’t.

#palestinian liberation #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it #and yet #here we are #long post #mine #antisemitism #settler colonialism #racism #european imperialism #genocide cw

[redantsunderneath]

I’ve Never Seen David Lynch and George Lucas in the Same Room at the Same Time…

The thematic parallels between David Lynch and George Lucas are something I keep coming back to again and again, but their careers and evolution have a lot of overlap too.  They were born in the earliest Boomer cohort (George Lucas in May 1944, David Lynch January 1946) and had experiences growing up that were colored by the idyllic 1950s, but shifted into a distrust of authority structures that was common for many of their age cohort in the 1960s. They both came of age wanting to do something physical with her hands that felt creative to them in large grimy spaces - fixing cars for Lucas, and painting and installations with a fascination with organic materials, industrial metal, and rot for Lynch. They both fell into film because they were looking for something that satisfied their artistic bent (although film was never a primary aspect of her life to that point).  They wound up making a handful of short films over a 3 year period, culminating in a longer short-film that would eventually get them noticed at roughly the same age (Electric Labyrinth THX 1138 4EB [1967] and the Grandmother [1970] for Lynch).

These films netted both of them a patron (Francis Ford Coppola for Lucas, the American Film Institute for Lynch) and started filming their first feature-length film two years after those films.  They both got their biggest name recognition bump by films released in 1977 and pulled away from the power of the studio system in roughly 1984. Famously, Lucas offered Lynch a chance to direct what would become Return of the Jedi in about 1981 ( I prefer the story where Lucas does this by picking him up in a Lamborghini - I’ve heard a phone call version too, but it’s not as perfect) and Lynch answered something like “it’s your movie George, you direct it.” They both spent the mid 80s in movie jail, and although they took very different paths in general after (I’ve been emphasizing the similarities) there are still things that jibe in the history - they both reminded people of what they liked about them with a late 80s movie, spent a lot of the 90s on TV projects, did one project around classic radio, returned to theatrical notice around the millennium, all the while generally keeping their own council and disappointing a lot of fans.

There’s obviously a world of difference. Lucas is a left brained technologist who equated freedom with an owning of the means of production.  Lynch is it right brained impressionist seeing freedom-as no one ever being able to tell you what to do, acting as a solo artist with collaborators who merge with his sensibilities.  Lynch is a production lone wolf, depending mostly on people believing in him and funding him, and losing out in the popular consciousness by making uncompromising art that may not be what the audience wants, meaning funding is sometimes hard to come by. Lucas is like the Democratic party controlling the Congress and presidency - having total power but unable to turn that into what he really wants to make, somehow. The idea of Lynch selling his body of work to Disney is absurd.

But the correspondences in this are telling and help to explain the thematic similarities and divergences.  Plus, the differences often relate to the similarities - Lucas identifies with corrupted controlling paternalistic power as a horror of inevitable capture of the individual by larger structures, while Lynch sees the corrupted masculine influence as an archetype, the call coming from inside the house, agency coopted by a collective taint in the universal pattern .  But on some level these are the same thing - what is this person I am capable of becoming seeing as I am in control but yet not, doing horrific things?  Lucas’ constant commentary on slavery is about hegemony and a systemic oppression he is complicit in, while Lynch has whole pantheons of beings that turn people into vessels that oblate the self and make them act on subconscious programming.  Neither probably think the word neoliberalism too much but tend to communicate similar things about it is almost diametrically opposed ways.  

The thematic similarities are rooted in a few areas that unpack in to a variety of subspaces which overlap – patriarchal structures as psychoanalytic dynamics (more Freudian father fixation for Lucas, Jung for Lynch), boomer generational failure as socio-first-but-economics-ultimately, the artist as in struggle with larger forces (largely of the self), and an eastern religious metaphysics that is American Christian in flavor.   The major line of difference running through this is gender/sex/desire, Lynch being on main with a lot of spiritual overtones of sin, guilt, and “the fall” and Lucas finding this kind of guilt and sin as a secondary phenomenon that is mostly actively suppressed and unconvincing when it shows up; yet both wind up often finding physical consummation at direct odds with art in a gendered creation way (that also links Eraserhead to Age of Ultron and the original Frankenstein). Try doing a psychosexual reading of Howard the Duck sometime.  

Lucas’ developmental through line is this: dude in love with 50’s culture but informed by 60s counterculture makes a movie where the young granola-ish revolutionaries win against the fascists in an effort to rewrite society but, having secured rights for “independent spirit” reasons now finds himself in control of something huge and immediately starts making art about boomer men becoming their controlling fathers and then moves on to movies where powerless freaks are the real focus.  After a creatively fallow period, he comes back to make a sequel/prequel trilogy that is one of the most misunderstood complicated statements about people becoming what they hate as an eternal cycle at the level of the personal, the societal, the political, the spiritual, the artistic, you name it!

Lynch’s developmental through line is this: dude in love with 50’s culture but informed by 60s outsider/art counterculture makes a movie where the young artist struggles with the idea of a regular life, initiated by fatherhood, which attempts to destroy the artistic spark, after which he enters the Hollywood system and makes an artist as freak movie and a movie about plucky rebels conquering space authoritarianism (that the future of is books about that ending in messianic authoritarianism) and then disavows that system.  He then proceeds to make art about subject and object as a supremely gendered thing, in a land that has fallen from grace, moving inexorably towards the idea of eternal cycle at the level of the personal, the societal, the political, the spiritual, you name it!

They both have an idea of the father-artist identified with the abject oppressed, under siege as figure, resentful from being kept from creation, over a career realizing that their “self” is the horrific villain of their own story.  For Lynch, this is psychosexual, then spiritual, with a resisted toxic masculine urge to control and overwhelm, often in a violent way.  It is the artist’s own urges that get in the way of making art, of desiring in the universe that has an unbalanced power structure from some far off echoes of an original symmetry breaking inherent to the archetypal gender dynamic. For Lucas, it is the realization that the artist in control has a tendency to become the controlling dad and sexual relations are inherently problematic in a political and spiritual way.  Real art seems impossible if the artist has control, identifying with the downtrodden is a bit of a lie, happy endings can’t happen not because of the happiness bit because of the ending bit.  For both, there is a fundamental flaw in the cycle, which is patriarchal in nature, but Lynch just approaches this much hornier.

The boomer part probably requires the most discussion, but the TLDR is that they are both are crawling out, through Vietnam, from the 50s social order, and grappling with how badly the 60s idealism failed.  Lucas does this in the prequels as a big canvas critique of how the social revolution was co-opted by the generation not being able to see its own flaws, of not seeing the system taking over again, an Empire calling itself a Republic.  An inability to look in the mirror and really see.  The wisest oldest hippie is the only one who sees what’s happening, but is powerless as his apprentices are inevitably spit out, and the next generation has to be raised not by a skeptic but a true believer in “liberal” “democracy” (cynic quotes theirs).

Lynch is interesting here in that he most directly addresses this only in Twin Peaks, but we see more naked reflections, divorced of contemporary politics, in his other works. In Twin Peaks, Ben Horn is the Palpatine figure, who winds up a sweet old man buying off the harm his life’s work and progeny have produced while ignoring the poor and next generation personally. Jacoby the neutered, fried Yoda that eventually slides into Alex Jones territory (the canonical Boomer ethos in a nutshell – “what me” neoliberalism and change the world ideology going crackpot).  All of Twin Peaks except for Fire Walk with Me is directly socioeconomically generational (Bobby Briggs becomes a young Republican in season 2, the mill, the trailer park), but the other works are full of class issues informed by Lynch’s age.  From Blue Velvet’s suburban kid exploring his darker side by going to the poor part of town through a career of classist low-life encoding (Bob is a denim jacket wearing homeless person, all the covered in grime by the dumpster/trailer park characters, Ronette as the factory floor version of Laura, etc), culminating in Inland Empire and Twin Peaks the Return chronicling the fall of man as partially an (generationally specific in TP) economic fall into a unequal class defined world of needing an opening and leaving the house to labor as where evil is born. TP OS is about how boomers turned out just as bad, the Return is about how we inhabit the world of their ideological blindness.

All filmmakers seem to, at least to a certain degree, bring the question of creation of art directly into their work via distant or close metaphor. In Eraserhead and Elephant Man, Lynch values the spark of art which the downtrodden protagonist is trying not to lose. In Dune, the visionary with a big project that seeks to upend the system (but that we know eventually become something even worse) is a project that fell apart due to studio interference.  Blue velvet is about the act of watching awakening something uncomfortable in us that is incompatible with normie life (it wouldn’t be weird to say it was about porn). Twin Peaks is about television, FWWM about movies, and all at least partially about closure being a death act in art.  Lost Highway is about the artist tortured by desire, Mulholland Drive about desire being central to be eaten alive by the Hollywood system.  Inland Empire is about filmmaking as a way into understanding the world on a deeper level (as is its unofficial sequel Inception) to cure its ills.  All of this is art’s struggle against power, with an element of the major powers being subconscious forces that control us leading to desires that ablate the artistic impulse.

Lucas' projects have over time been about a young upstart independent filmmaker, losing his soul by becoming successful, and becoming the system, man.  He then tries desperately to identify as really not the one in charge, until he admits to what he has become.  He consistently dips back into filmmaking as an adventure or a good fight, but he has to set these in a time period before his birth.  As in Lynch, having a child is equated with not being able to fulfill the kind of artistic destiny, but Lucas goes further in equating it to an excuse for why the powerful artist goes bad and needs redemption.  He had a naïve or-is-it canny motif focused on the short inhuman outsider, often related to music or primitive settings (often with wooden cages) as a recurring thing for a while.  These characters are often wise, or at least no filter tell-it, and are similar to the Elephant Man.  This is a trope, sure, the wise different wavelength other, but there is also an identification of the artist at knowing and right yet impotent and a clue to the author’s metaphysical system.

Lynch is the mainline protestant in upbringing and very much influenced by a kind of proto-eastern religion (you can just say the Vedas for shorthand).  Lucas is not very religious, but was brought up Christian, influenced by Christian symbolism and became interested in world religion as narrative via figures like Joseph Campbell.  Hence, they both gravitate towards some kind of Gnostic Proto Christian, So-Cal zen, Thomas Aquinas “gets” Plato kind of amalgam, which informs their work.  Lynch has veered towards an eternal cycle framework, and the very physics compatible idea of something in the past breaking and causing consciousness/suffering, through which we can achieve joy as a counter only through letting go of the self, and the recurrence of ruptures on all scales demonstrating a fractal pattern of hurt and redemption.  Lucas also sees a big cycle, but it is one more of human existence as narrative that has a tendency to return, with a little bit of Nietzsche and movie eastern spirituality thrown in. Both believe in a recurring pattern that plays itself out in a way that is terrible, but hopeful, as the struggle is where hope derives from.  Both have inherently Christian ideas and symbols in their work but lean back on non-Christian ideas that the Christian ideas have a history with. Lynch has his virgin Mary as the real Christ figure female angels that show up, while Lucas has turnt space Jesus.

Suffice it to say that the tree trial scene in the Empire Strikes Back and the lodge sequences in Twin Peaks are a very good place to start looking for how the two auteurs meet.  Compare Anakin/Luke Skywalker to Mr C, look at the 90s turn they both made, register their seeing the “sleeper must awaken” of fiction being terribly fraught, compare the force vs. the universal field, the way their relationship status and partners carve their work into eras, and their continued existence as mainstream experimental filmmakers. 

#george lucas #david lynch

[domesticsasuke]

Domestic Sasuke AU Headcanon List

Domestic!Sasuke is an AU where Sasuke retires from being an active shinobi after Sarada is born.

But in my version of the AU there's a lot little more to it than that! This basically details all of the important changes that come with this AU.

Putting under a read more because this got long as fuck.

In this AU, Sasuke is brought back to Konoha similar as the canon series. He is interrogated for information on things like Orochimaru's research, the movements of Oto while he was affiliated with them, and any other information that may deem worth Konoha knowing. All of which he gives up willingly.

He is sentenced to one year probation in which he cannot leave the village, unless his presence is otherwise specifically required. He can do whatever he wants, missions included, as long as it's within Konoha.

Less than a house arrest, the probation is supposed to be an adjustment period to allow Sasuke to settle back into village life, situate the Uchiha estate, adjust to his lack of an arm, and focus on stabilizing his physical and mental health.

Now in Sakura's Story, we know that Sakura works on establishing help centers dedicated to helping children with their mental health and trauma across the shinobi nations. I like to think that within the village she was already pushing for better focus on mental health for shinobi.

--

Part of this adjustment period is Sasuke receiving counseling, both for anything he experienced while he was away and for what he experienced as a child. When Anko heard they were trying to find the best choice for counselor for Sasuke upon his return, she very firmly volunteered. As someone who went through some fucked up shit as a kid, she’d been working on becoming trained to help other shinobi youth.

I think the potential student-mentor relationship between Sasuke and Anko, given their shared experiences with the curse mark and Orochimaru, is woefully underutilized and unexplored.

The first few months are bad. Despite having returned willingly to Konoha, Sasuke's mental health is a mess. After years of emotional and physical trauma and keeping his mental barriers locked tight, finally being in a position where he can potentially feel safe makes him pretty much shut down. (A common occurrence for people once they get out of unsafe environments into safe ones.) Anko starts helping him work through all the layers and layers of shit and baggage he has backed up in his brain.

--

Interestingly enough, Sasuke finds himself spending a lot of time with Lee. Lee's energy reminds him a lot of Naruto and it begrudgingly endears Lee to him, only there’s something much more calming about sparring with Lee than Naruto. (Their dynamic comes to resemble Gai and Kakashi somewhat, but Lee is just a little sweeter and Sasuke just a little more serious.)

Sasuke and Sai oddly hit it off in their own strange way? There's a moment of tension between them on their first amicable reintroduction, but Sasuke has a much easier time communicating with him than Naruto and Sakura did upon meeting Sai. Even if Sasuke is wildly thrown off by the explicit and straight forward thing Sai often says.

As for Naruto and Sakura? They’re his most important people, always have been, even if he had to deny it to himself and others for years. Reconnecting with them isn’t... hard, but it’s awkward. Navigating this once familiar space, a space he spent so long rejecting feels strange and sometimes he feels ashamed or embarrassingly unworthy.

This entire relationship is built on the idea that he never genuinely tried to kill either Naruto or Sakura. It was either him putting on a show or him trying to convince himself he could, but he never would have gone through with it.

Sasuke also has much more meaningful moments with both of them individually where he apologizes to them. The terrible things he’s done and said are addressed and he makes it a goal to repent.

Sasuke enjoys talking about medical things with Sakura. He heard and learned a lot about medical science - especially dubious practices - while aligned with Oto, so they bond over talking about how fucked up some of the stories Sasuke shares. Sasuke gets a kick out of her mutual disgust, indignation, and reluctant intrigue. He also takes special interest in things she has to share about eyes.

While Sasuke will never not be Sasuke, his rekindling friendship with Naruto is, for the first time, not based on a foundation of pride and resentment. Naruto is still loud and annoying at times, but there’s also a feeling of freedom when they’re together. There’s nothing hanging over their heads anymore.

Nearing the end of his year, Sasuke begins to get increasingly restless. He's made wonders in his progress, but a lot of demons still pull at his subconscious.

He begins taking missions out of the village again, he and Sakura grow closer romantically, and life settles into something resembling peaceful, but the nagging itch that he's not doing enough is a persistent one.

In this AU, everyone doesn't settle into married life and have kids so early. Everyone has a bit more time as adults, a bit more time to figure themselves out and to court each other, before some of them finally have families years down the line.

During this, Sasuke catches wind of more and more ugliness in the world. He organizes with Tsunade to allow him to spend more time on long term missions targeting and working to uproot systems of severe crimes like human trafficking and slavery, something we see him doing a bit of in canon.

These missions can sometimes yield child victims and he corresponds regularly with Sakura and her health centers to organize for them to be taken in.

He's back and forth between Konoha and his missions over the years. Gone no where near as often as in canon, but sometimes gone for months at a time for particularly deep missions, but still works as a regular Leaf ninja on call for missions when he's home.

He does still struggle with a feeling of obligation and guilt sometimes due to his actions in the past, and there was maybe one year where he tried to isolate himself from the village partly for these reasons, another being because he felt his Sharingan drew enemies, but Naruto and Sakura set him straight. There weren’t about to him spiral back down to that abyss.

He is often accompanied by Naruto, Sakura, Sai, Lee, Anko, and a number of other of his friends in numerous situations over the years. He also accompanies Sakura on her rounds to check on centers' progress from time to time.

Team Taka no longer works with Orochimaru (because fuck that noise, is Orochimaru even alive in this AU??), and maybe join Konoha or work in Konoha affiliated establishments? (What do they do?? What are their goals??? Who knows, haven’t thought that far ahaha) Karin probably connects with Naruto over their shared Uzumaki lineage. Juugo might work in one of Sakura’s centers.

By the time Sasuke and Sakura finally decide to get married they've had years to address their pasts and spend time together.

It's when Sakura gets pregnant that Sasuke begins to reevaluate just exactly where he wants to be in life. He's spent so many years fighting. He's been fighting for recognition, revenge, redemption since before he was eight years old and realizes he... he's tired.

He's never allowed himself to rest because he's always felt like there was something he was supposed to be doing. And he realizes he doesn't want to fight to feel allowed to exist anymore.

He wants... He wants to be there for Sakura. He wants to be there for his baby. And with a little help from the Sakura and Anko, he learns that that's *okay*. That despite all the ugliness still out there, he has a right to put his own desire to be with his family first, that he can trust the good people in his life to take on the responsibility of helping save the world while he takes time to be there for the ones who need him.

Bonus Headcanons that come with this AU:

Hinata is still a ninja

Neji is alive

Tsunade is Hokage for longer instead of stepping down to let Kakashi take over

Mom aged Hinata get a Better Haircut

Yamato isn’t Orochimaru’s keeper

Konoha doesn’t work with Orochimaru (Maybe he’s dead? Maybe Kabuto takes his place?)

#domestic sasuke au #sasuke uchiha #uchiha family #naruto #naruto au #boruto #sakura haruno #anko mitarashi #naruto uzumaki #idk if I should tag others because they're just mentioned? #I don't plan on having them really be on this blog #do they NEED tags? #I'll go back and tag this and I see fit #long post #stills #mod post #mod speaks #world building

[mediaevalmusereads]

An Extraordinary Union. By Alyssa Cole. New York: Kensington, 2017.

Rating: 3/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Loyal League #1

Summary: As the Civil War rages between the states, a courageous pair of spies plunge fearlessly into a maelstrom of ignorance, deceit, and danger, combining their unique skills to alter the course of history and break the chains of the past . . . Elle Burns is a former slave with a passion for justice and an eidetic memory. Trading in her life of freedom in Massachusetts, she returns to the indignity of slavery in the South—to spy for the Union Army. Malcolm McCall is a detective for Pinkerton's Secret Service. Subterfuge is his calling, but he’s facing his deadliest mission yet—risking his life to infiltrate a Rebel enclave in Virginia. Two undercover agents who share a common cause—and an undeniable attraction—Malcolm and Elle join forces when they discover a plot that could turn the tide of the war in the Confederacy's favor. Caught in a tightening web of wartime intrigue, and fighting a fiery and forbidden love, Malcolm and Elle must make their boldest move to preserve the Union at any cost—even if it means losing each other.

***Full review under the cut.***

Mild spoilers in the Plot section.

Content Warnings: racism, threat of sexual assault, use of the n-word, violence, blood, false rape accusations

Overview: I first became aware of Alyssa Cole via Courtney Milan’s recommendations page, and I decided to start with this Civil War spy romance because... why not? It looked fun! And it was, to an extent. I liked the high stakes, the dynamics of the romance, the characters themselves. But what ultimately prevented me from giving this book more than 3 stars was the plot, romance trajectory, and some aspects of the prose. Of course, your mileage may vary, so if you’re a fan of romance, I suggest giving this book a try for yourself.

Writing: Cole’s prose is fairly clear and easy to read. It flows well, so you can skim or read more in-depth, depending on your preference, and I think that works for the genre Cole is writing in. I also really liked that Cole would drop in random quotes from classic literature to demonstrate Elle’s eidetic memory, and I liked that she was able to communicate the stakes of each scene without overwhelming the reader with infodumps.

I do think, however, that Cole relies a bit too much on telling instead of showing. We’re told over and over again through the characters’ inner thoughts that they have feelings for one another, but I didn’t quite see how those feelings were brought about externally. The banter and the arguments, while good, didn’t quite foster feelings of romantic connection, and I wish a little more was done to show the characters’ chemistry, rather than being told that they had an effect on one another.

Plot: Aside from the romance, the majority of this book revolves around Elle and Malcolm as they infiltrate a Southern senator’s house to learn more about Confederate operations during the Civil War. While I liked the idea, I ultimately thought Cole could have done a little more to give this plot structure. Both Malcolm and Elle seemed to be placed in the house to be on the lookout for any useful information, so from the get-go, it didn’t feel like they had a strong purpose. I think I would have liked to have seen Elle go in with the knowledge that the Confederates were planning something; maybe the Union/Loyal League had whiff of a plot to break the blockade, and Elle is tasked with doing everything in her power to make sure that blockade stays in place.

I also think Cole could have made her characters a little more agentive. While I liked that Malcolm was purposefully flirting with the Senator’s daughter to weasel his way into their good graces, it felt like both Elle and Malcolm were passively waiting for information to fall into their laps. I would have liked to see more scenes of them sneaking into the Senator’s office, trying to find letters or other information, or something else that required the characters to be proactive. The only real scene where we got that, I feel, was when the two went after Dix, the engineer, but even then, they seemed to just follow him out into the woods before getting accosted by slave catchers, forcing them to return home with nothing useful (which they don’t seem too disappointed about).

Speaking of the pursuit of Dix, many scenes seemed to be like this one, and by that I mean many seemed to have been inserted into the plot to create empty tension or action. The characters don’t really get anything useful out of following Dix; the scene was mostly there to give Malcolm and Elle some time to talk and to put Elle in danger. There were others that I felt had a similar purpose. The scene where Elle suspects Malcolm of being a double agent, for example, seemed to come out of nowhere and be over and done with way too quickly, only used to manufacture false tension and then give the two a reason to be alone together. The ending, too, seemed to rely on a lot of exciting things happening in quick succession, and while I liked that it forced the characters to think quickly and make plans, it also felt like Elle and Malcolm had to rely on surprise plans from other people and impossible coincidences.

Lastly, I think the prologue was an odd episode to serve as the book’s initial inciting action. We open with Elle going undercover to pass a message to another operative, and just as she does so, she is harmed by some racist separatists and blacks out. One year later, Elle has recovered and is on a new mission in Virginia, and we learn that she was saved by none other than Malcolm himself. While I felt that this prologue could have worked if Elle and Malcolm hopped around the South on missions and kept meeting up again and again, the events of the prologue didn’t seem to have much significance other than to show that Malcolm had met Elle once before, and even that revelation fizzled out soon after they both realized it. I think I would have liked a more sustained plot where Elle and Malcolm kept crossing paths while doing spy missions, or else have the prologue feature something like a secret meeting where men are talking about building the ironside.

Characters: Elle, our heroine, is a smart, sharp-tongued Black woman with an eidetic memory and a fierce devotion to the Union. I really liked the nuance she brought to interpretations of the abolitionist movement and the politics of slavery and race relations; she would frequently call Malcolm and other well-meaning white people out on their inability to see slavery and racism as something that affects individuals (they see it rather as an abstract concept). I also really liked that she knew her worth but was conscious of what acting on her anger and frustration could do to jeopardize her goals. It made her feel pragmatic and human at the same time, which I very much enjoyed. The only thing I didn’t like about her was that she seemed to keep going back and forth on what she wanted with Malcolm, but more on that in the next section.

Malcolm, our hero, is a Scottish undercover detective for the Pinkertons. I liked that he had a roguish personality without being a Scottish stereotype - he didn’t drop a lot of random slang words, nor was he overly violent or drunk. His main asset was his charisma and his ability to weasel his way into places of power, and I think Cole showed that well. I also liked that he served as a vehicle to explore topics relating to racism, and he was constantly learning about how to be practically anti-racist, not just generally not racist (if that makes sense). I do think, however, that Malcolm made way too many stupid mistakes for one supposedly so good as his job, and I think his attraction to Elle was too insta-lovey for my tastes (but more on that below). He also seemed to have no serious character flaws to overcome; he rather seemed to be a “nice guy” whose only “flaw” was that he just had some things to learn about the Black experience.

Side characters varied in the quality of their usefulness to the plot, but I think Cole wrote them all with good purposes in mind. Susie, the Senator’s daughter who Malcolm flirts with, was appropriately written, being neither an exaggerated villain nor a sympathetic product of her time. The fellow slaves at the Senator’s home were likeable and I enjoyed the way Elle expressed her affection for them; I wish Mary’s plans had been foreshadowed a bit more, but it is what it is. Probably the most underutilized character, in my opinion, was Rufus, whose true identity comes at a surprise to Elle and Malcolm. I feel like a rival espionage plot could have worked well in this story, especially if Elle and Malcolm’s story had been more reluctant-allies-to-lovers, but Rufus’ twist seemed to come out of nowhere and only be important in the last 50 or so pages of the novel. Dix, too, could have been more of an interesting character, but he seems to exist only to put Elle and Malcom in a risky position. Nothing really comes out of his character.

Perhaps the least compelling character, in my opinion, was Daniel, Elle’s supposed longtime friend who was born free but sold into slavery. Daniel never makes an actual appearance on the page; Elle talks about him a lot, but since we never actually see them interact, I felt like I was expected to care about a person I never met. The drama with Daniel seemed to exist to either create jealousy in Malcolm or serve as a way to make Elle trust Malcolm, and honestly, I don’t think Daniel needed to be included at all.

Romance: While I liked the idea of this romance, Elle and Malcolm’s story ultimately didn’t work well for me because I personally found it insta-lovey and somewhat repetitive. Malcolm is attracted to Elle right away, which isn’t a problem, but it seems like they developed feelings for one another after their initial chat in the woods. I prefer my romances to build up over time, with characters falling for one another after becoming emotionally vulnerable and bonding over shared values or helping one another overcome personal character flaws. Elle and Malcolm, by contrast, had some nice banter, but Elle would push Malcolm away, then remember how attractive he was, then the two would kiss or be intimate before Elle would declare they couldn’t be together because it compromised their jobs, and the cycle would repeat. While a conflict of interest could be an interesting point of tension in a romance, I personally felt like Elle was too back-and-forth, and I personally don’t find that back-and-forth very compelling.

I also found some of the sex scenes to be a bit too clinical and clipped, which may work for some people but may not for others. Personally, I like my sex scenes to show not just physical intimacy, but emotional intimacy, and it seemed like some of them were used to that effect while others were just... “she did this. he did this.” I think I would have liked to see Cole put more pressure on the idea of sex as comfort. The first time Elle and Malcolm are physically intimate together, Elle describes it as seeking comfort. However, it’s not really brought up again, and I think it would have been interesting to expand on the idea, perhaps by portraying their reluctant allyship as first a purely physical release/escape to something more emotional and mutually supportive.

TL;DR: An Extraordinary Union brings some much needed diversity the romance genre, and while it has an intriguing plot and likeable characters, it also features a fairly cyclical romance and depends on things happening to the characters, rather than the characters being active subjects.

[beakami]

The Force and Love Series (01/04): It’s Just Fear (Obi Wan x Reader)

Hello everyone! This is the first chapter of one of the series I’ll be posting. I am so high on Star Wars right now (Though I intend on writing a couple of Marvel one shots in what’s left of the week).

It has been ages since I was active here but I really want to come back (specially when I am getting sooo tired of twitter, really, too sick of it) and intend to be active and bring you all many good stories so. Let’s start ^^

It is finished and it will be 4 chapters, but just for now. Once I rewatch the movies and finish The Clone Wars series I will probably write some more ^^

Summary: Reader is rescued from a life of servitude when Obi Wan and Master Joda find her while on a very important mission. Her connection with the Force is deep and quite different from the one the Order is used to. She is now free but, what will it be of her life? Will she follow the path of the Jedi? Will feeling get in the way?

Warnings: Will change in furute chapters but for now just some angst and mention of slavery. IF there is anything else you see and think I should add here, please, do tell me and I will do so gladly. Enjoy

Count: 2442 words

 >>There were many outstanding beings in the Galaxy. Those strong with the Force; those who knew how to heal people or machines; or simply those with a strong calling, outstanding even if just in passion. You whished you were like them, stronger or smarter or special in any way, because you saw yourself as very less than you really were. You couldn’t see your good traits, relinquishing them as just “normal” or “common”. But your patience and loving manners towards other were not easily found; the pure heart beating in your chest was not of this world, for you would rather die protecting others than hurt them; but also, you were unaware of how deep you were actually connected with the Force. And that is why, even if you couldn’t really see it yourself, that the Jedi rescued you.

  >>Sadly, they had found you and freed you from slavery when you were too old by their customs (and your safety) to be trained as a full Jedi, or so they first said. Yes, you felt the Force, you had always done so and in a way that made Master Yoda smile when you said it was just nothing. Because it had always felt as normal to you as breathing, even if you didn’t know what it was. You could see it more than control it, but the discussion was still there…Should they train you? It is not like they would have to start from zero, you had learned yourself as much as you could, asking the very Force what to do, and you always felt it answering, but did you want to be a full-fledged Jedi? Their ways were…well, you liked them, they believed in peace and their love for their Creed was admirable, but it quite shocked you that one of the things they forbid was so vital to you. Love. How could it be forbidden for them when you firmly believed it was the very core of everything good?

  >>You weren’t dumb, you understood the reasons behind it, but even if you had never truly fell in love (being a slave and focusing on not dying whilst controlling the Force didn’t leave much free time) you didn’t want the possibility to be taken from you. Because even if their faces were a little blurry then, you still remembered you parents’ feelings vividly, how their love for you and each other, made that old little hut the coziest place on that Maker forsaken planet you lived. And yet at the same time you wanted to learn, to really understand that part of you that had always whispered in your head, that had been your only companion for many years now.

  >>And there you were, sitting on the grass, just outside of the Jedi Temple in Coruscant, while the Council decided if they would give you a chance that you didn’t know if you even wanted. You sighed, eyes darting up at the blue sky above, not such a clean color due to the contamination of the one big city planet you were on, but so, /so/ beautiful compared to the one of your home planet. You brought your knees to your chest, wrapping them with both arms, pondering what to do. They had saved you after all, and you wanted to learn…you really didn’t want to disregard their generosity but…Could you ask for more that they had already given you? Could you, someone who saw herself more of a burden that anything else just…ask for something? You felt your eyes sting, hiding your face against your knees, really dreading it all, regardless of what their decision ended up being.

  >>It is then, you heard a voice that had grown familiar over the two months you had spent on that place, Master Obi Wan’s.

  -Are you feeling well, Beatrice? – he asked, sincere concern dripping from his voice.

  >>You were not used to such kindness as he had shown you since you arrived. And you felt quite overwhelmed by how not only him, but his padawan Anakin, or Master Yoda had just smiles and good feelings towards you. So, you raised your head, forcing a smile that wasn’t entirely false, because you could never not be grateful towards such gentleness.

  -I am just…worried, Master Obi Wan…I am truly grateful but…I really don’t know what I want.

  >>You said, sincere as always because, what was the point of lying to him when it was so obvious you were feeling distressed? You felt his Force signature tremble a little, as if knowing what was troubling you and understanding just too well.

  -It is expected, dear Beatrice, it is a big change, an important decision that will affect your life forever more, and I understand there are some…harsh conditions. – he answered, his voice calm and understanding as ever.

  >>You met him for just a little while, and yet you felt such a strong connection with him. It was as if you had known each other for years and not months. He was with Master Yoda when they found you and had been around for the past two months, always vigilant, always making sure you felt welcome and didn’t get lost in this new place.

  -I get the reason behind it all, Master Obi Wan but…for me it is just…fear.

  >>He quirked a brow, suddenly as interested as he was confused.

  -Elaborate, please.

  >>You liked how he never demanded, not like your owner, not like you had always been treated; he asked, gently, always giving you time to think your words through, even if he could feel your line of thought in the way the Force in you swayed or changed color.

  -I really believe that those who remain strong and don’t fall to the dark side…would keep as strong if not more if they could love. Would you abandon your family, those you love, for a life of darkness away from them if you could be together in the light?

  >>You pondered, a hand running back through red locks of hair, trying to stay calm, not used to anyone actually listening to what you had to say.

  -Love is never weakness…love is the strongest form of Force, it binds us all together whether is the love for a friend, a brother or a lover.

  >>He raised both brows, impressed at the bold but mature statement you were proposing and you blushed, really loving and dreading the attention all at the same time.

  -Not that I know much of some of those… -you were quick to say and then recomposed yourself- but I remember the love of my parents, and how it was all we had…and yet I never fell into darkness. I never used the Force to hurt others because I knew it was wrong. Yes, I protected my parents more than once but always trying to be my best self…and all because of them, of their love for me and mine for them. That can’t be bad. That can’t lead to the dark side. I think it’s all the way round.

  >>Still silence from him, but another raise of one of his eyebrows assured you he was listening and encouraged you to keep talking.

  -If I’m being honest with myself…I really believe that I would have fallen into darkness if it weren’t for them.

  >>Your eyes fell to the ground, ashamed of the very thought, but he put a gentle hand on your shoulder making you look up at him.

  -It is important to admit those things to yourself; it helps to not have it happen again. -He added and then coaxed you to continue with a soft movement of his hand as he removed it from your shoulder- So…fear?

  >>He reminded you of the first statement you made in the conversation and you nodded.

  -Yes. That rule is based on fear, fear of an enemy even stronger if they had someone to protect, fear of someone who would anyway fall to the dark side, having a reason to fight more fiercely.

  >>You explained, a bit of passion appearing in your voice and vibrating in you Force signature, making Obi Wan look even more surprised at you.

  - Because I have never seen love make someone good turn suddenly bad. Yes, if you have darkness in you, love is as strong as if you don’t, and you’d do crazy things for it. But it doesn’t change who you are deep inside. I have only seen it made good people try their best, and bad people…they just use it as an excuse.  Because when they didn’t have it, they did the same awful things and gave another false reason to justify their wickedness…their weakness.

  -So -he mutters after a while, still pondering something, a thought you can’t grasp but you feel it running though his head- For you, love is like the Force.

  >>You smiled brightly when you felt you had managed to bring your point though to him.

  -Exactly! It is powerful, and can be used for good or evil but…

  -It is not evil nor good on itself. -he finished your sentence and you nodded with a smile-.

  -Exactly…and the fear that it would give more power to those who end up falling into darkness…deprives others the sheer happiness of loving and being loved, and for me that is…just…too sad to bear.

  >>And you meant it, something he clearly felt in how the Force trembled and seemed to embrace you, as if consoling you from that pang of sadness the sole idea made you feel. He hadn’t said it more than once, in a whisper that he didn’t know if either you or Master Yoda heard (though of course he did hear it even if you were closer to Obi Wan and didn’t). He doubts anyone had actually stated it out loud in front of you, but your relationship with the Force was like nothing they had ever seen, being that, the main reason the debating over you had extended for so long, going days with them never ending up deciding on anything. They all felt the Force, and through training and meditation they could control it and be in consonance with it; for them it was a tool, something sacred to respect and use only to pursue the ways of the Jedi. And yet you…it felt like the Force liked you, like it was part of your very being, with you understanding how it worked even if no one was ever there to tell you.

  >>It amazed him…but also scared him, well, it had scared him. For some reason, after those two months getting to know you, and what you had told him now about love and the Force, he felt you could never be dangerous, that you would never hurt anyone good even if that put you in danger. And that softened his heart a little. And he knew, he knew you had to expose your ideas to the Council, because he was convinced that they would also stop being scared of you and your relationship with the Force if they only knew, if they only saw the pure kindness and hope deep within you.

  >>You wanted to talk some more, not only because he was always nice to converse with, but also because it kept you occupied and thus you didn’t overthink everything, wondering what they would be arguing and why it was taking so long, finishing the days without having reached a decision. But when you were going to open your mouth again to ask him what he was thinking, looking at you so concentrated, his name was called, and you both raised your heads to follow the voice, finding Anakin waving a hand to call on his master.

  -I’m afraid my presence is needed.

  -Of course. -you nodded and stood up as he did.

  >>He had told you more than a couple of times that you don’t have to do that anymore, that you are free, but once you managed to tell him that it was not a slave thing, but just out of being polite, he smiled, murmured a “Sorry”, and with a shake of your head to render it all without importance, he never mentioned it again.

  -We will talk more later, but do try to stay calm, you will be welcomed here no matter what you choose. I…think they should listen to your ideas. -You looked at him in disbelief- Do you think you could handle telling the Council what you told me? -he saw the panic in your eyes and put a hand on your shoulder- Only if you want. -He assured you- Only of you think it would help them understand you better…because it had really helped me.

  >>You blinked a couple of times; Did that really help him understand you better? You didn’t really get why, but it felt right, it was a nice change that someone actually cared enough to try and understand you. And…you really didn’t want to go, not back to where no one even knew what the Force was, not back where you were a monster and a freak.

  -I could…try. I…I don’t want to go…and be alone again.

  >>You answered, each word lighter, softer, ending the sentence in just a whisper as you dropped your head. His fingers carefully rounded your chin and lifted you face, finding yourself in front of two soft blue eyes and a lovely smile that made you blush.

  -Do not fret, Beatrice, you won’t be alone again. This is your home now.

  >>”Home”, that word made you forget the fingers in your chin, and even after you nodded and he left with Anakin, promising he would come back later to check on you, it kept running around in your head. “Home” …it sounded so distant for you, so sweet and almost forgotten in the back of your head. You sat back on the grass and whispered it so low that even if someone were sitting right next to you, they wouldn’t have heard it. The word felt strange in your tongue as the syllables rolled over it, warm, tingly and…so long unsaid until he mentioned it, until it really came to you that this could really be home.

  >>When that thought crossed your mind tears run to your eyes, sadness and happiness overwhelming you all at the same time. You could have a home, a family of sorts, people who understood and cared for you, but…why was there always a “but”? You hated it, nothing ever came free, not since…such a long time ago when the love of your parents was provided unconditionally. Ever since then, everything came at a cost, a condition, something to break your body or your heart, and every time the decision was reduced to its minimum expression…was it worth the price?

___________________________

Next Chapter (2)

#star wars #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #fanfic #Fic #obk x reader #star wars fanfic #The Force And Love Series

[not-the-cleavers]

Target II - Chapter 4

Hey guys real quick - I’m posting this now because I live in Australia and there’s a fire less than 20km away from my house so we’re on alert for evacuation. Basically I’m not sure when I’ll be able to post if we end up getting evacuated - I’m not looking for sympathy, it is what it is, I just want you beautiful people to know what’s going on.

Anyway.....

Tags; @adrenaline-roulette​ and @amy-brooklyn99​ - if you would like to be tagged just let me know

Pairing; Four x Eight (female reader) Fandom; 6 Underground Warnings; Swearing, angst, mention of human/sex trafficking, drinking and smoking Word count; 1.7k (total so far 6.3k)

Summary; The team has moved onto their next target after dealing with Rovach Alimov, a war criminal named John Dough. Eight has just joined the team and is dying to show how much she deserves to be there

Catch up; Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Entering the hanger I noticed that someone had kindly placed a stool where I would normally stand during our briefs, these things tend to run long and I don’t think I’d be able to stand for the entire thing. Four helped me slide onto the stool and instead of scurrying off to the opposite side of the table; where he normally stands, he stayed put, leaning onto the cold metal table. I pulled my laptop closer to me to start to pull useful information from that key logging software I installed before we left. Much to my surprise John Dough uploaded his entire hard drive, virus and all, to his personal version of the cloud, where he uploads and downloads to all his personal devices, spreading my virus everywhere. The idiot just made my job so much easier! “You look like you’ve got good news, care to share with the rest of class?” One said in his usual sarcastic tone. Clearly my poker face needs work. “You two aren’t fucking are you?” he said in a dead serious tone, flicking a finger between Four and myself. “What? No!” Hopefully I was able to hide my disappointment with shock, “it’s about John Dough. The idiot just uploaded my virus to every single one of his devices. I can see everything he does” I said with a smirk. A deep belly laugh erupted from One. “Eight if I wasn’t kinda terrified of you, I would kiss you right now!” he almost yelled, causing Two to crack a smile. “What does this mean for the mission?” Three asked, not entirely sure what I was talking about but willing to play along. “It means I have complete access to his whole system. I can upload a new virus that will duplicate everything onto my servers here without him ever knowing. If he hires more guards, I’ll know. If he books a flight anywhere in the world, I’ll know. If he sends a dick pic, I’ll know. If he does anything on any single one of his devices, I’ll know. This means this mission got a whole hell of a lot easier my friend, we are no longer flying blind” I explained. This caused a huge smile to explode onto Threes face, after getting pinned by those two guards I’m sure this was welcomed news.

“So what’s on the hard drive?” One asked, breaking the joyful feeling in the air. “I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet, I only woke up like an hour ago, and someone grabbed it from my vest in the van yesterday and put it here” I bit back. Did he seriously think I had the chance to look at the hard drive yet? “Eight that was 3 days ago! Are you seriously trying to tell me you’ve been unconscious this whole time?” What? It can’t have been days, how had I been out for days? And did he seriously not check in on me at all during that time? “I’ll take your silence as a yes” he huffed, anger evident in his voice, though I wasn’t sure why. “C’mon man, give her a break…” Seven came to my rescue while everyone else remained silent “Don’t you ‘c’mon man’ me, this isn’t good enough. We needed intel three fucking days ago! And while princess over here was sleeping, this fucker helped destroy another small community in Syria!” One was getting extremely irate, and your hand instinctively went to where your holster normally sat on your hip, but instead of your hand wrapping around your trusty sidearm, it was grabbed by Four. What was he doing? “And you would have been able to stop that, in three days, with one of us out with a gunshot wound?” Seven sneered “Face it man, we wouldn’t have been able to save those people. I know it sucks but this is what we have been dealt” he placed his hand on Ones shoulder, which was quickly shaken off. “Right well this has been a waste of time, does anyone have anything to add to this?” We all looked around the room at one another not daring to say a damn word. “Right, well that’s that” One said walking past us all to leave, stopping to put a his hand on my shoulder, lean down really close to my ear and say “I’m starting to wonder if I made a mistake bringing you into this. Prove to me I didn’t” loud enough for everyone to hear before walking away. I didn’t dare move my eyes to look at anyone, instead choosing to stare dead ahead or else the tears would come, and I wasn’t about to fucking cry in front of everyone.

I slowly pulled myself off the stool, slammed my laptop lid closed, picked up the hard drive and made my way out of the hanger. “Fucking prick” I muttered to myself, how dare he say that shit to me! I was fucking shot getting that fucking hard drive while he sat in the getaway car. If he wants me to prove I deserve to be here, that’s just what I’ll do, and then he can explain why he’s the only one here who never seems to do anything. The walk back to my trailer was long and slow and I was starting to understand Five’s advice to take it easy. I gingerly made it up the two steps of my trailer and slammed the door behind me, I was going to get to work and make One fucking eat his words. I walked past my living quarters and into my makeshift office. This trailer used to have a drivers seat and dashboard that was ripped out, so when I got here I got to work making a desk, knowing I would need it for my role in the team. I sat myself down at my desk and started clicking my way through every single file I had transferred over, easily getting into any password protected folders. Everything about this John Dough made me sick to my stomach, but when I came across a folder named ‘Girls’ I knew it was about to get worse. I forced myself to open the folder and what greeted my eyes was foul. Hundreds of videos and photos of women and teenage girls in varying stages of undress and beaten into such a state I feared they were dead flooded my screen. These were most likely women and girls forced into sex slavery, trafficked away from their families and treated like this. I slammed the screen down again, I needed a fucking drink. I walked back out of my office and poured myself a healthy of whiskey into a not very clean glass and just as I was about to take a sip there was a knock at my door. I hobbled my way over to the door and pushed it open, not looking to see who it was, before turning around and walking right back in. “Drink?” I asked the visitor, holding up my glass so they could see, “Uh sure, got any beer?” the deep accented voice of Four came from behind me. “Feel free to check but I don’t think so” I told him, motioning towards the small fridge with my hand that held my whiskey. I slowly lowered myself onto my bed again and watched Four squat down to check my drink options. When his search came up empty, he muttered that he would be right back, and walked right back out the door. A chuckle escaped my lips as I leant back and took a sip, making a slight face as the liquor burned its way down my throat.

My door opened one last time as four re-entered with two six packs of some kind of beer, unloading one into my fridge and bringing the other one, and my bottle of whiskey, over to my bed, where he sat down next to me. “What’s going on? I know One was being an arsehole back there, but I can tell something else has happened” Four said knowingly, watching me take another slip. “This whole week can fuck itself. First I get shot – and that’s still not on you so don’t try it, then I get ridiculed in front of everyone because I was apparently unconscious for three days, then going through that hard drive I’ve come across some of the worst things I’ve seen and I’ve only scratched the surface.” I replied, cutting myself off before mentioning anything about how I felt about Four and how he would never feel the same way. “What are you talking about?” he asked hesitantly after a long drink from his bottle. My only response was to point him in the direction of my office. While he was gone I leant over to a set of drawers at the end of my bed and grabbed a pack of Marlboros and an ashtray, quickly lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. I tended to only smoke when stressed and man oh man, today was one of those days.

I soon realised that Four had been gone a while, so I thought I better check on him, all this movement probably wasn’t ideal for my side but honestly, fuck it. I found him, standing in shock at what he discovered on my laptop screen, his hands shaking. Afraid he was going to drop his half-drunk beer on the ground, I grabbed it from his hand after closing the laptop one final time. I walked him back to my bed and sat him back down; in hindsight I probably should have warned him. “Sorry, I should have given you a heads up, I forgot that you don’t normally see that kind of thing.” Normally it was myself or One who did the background on the targets and the team only were given the necessary information. Four raked his hands through his hair before asking “you normally see shit like that?” he sounded shocked, I nodded before replying “I’ve never seen anything exactly like that before, but yeah it is common” the words muffled slightly by my cigarette. Without warning Four grabbed it from between my lips and took a drag before placing it back. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea” he mumbled. “S’alright, I’m glad it still gets to me, means I’m still human” he chuckled weakly at my response. We were clearly feeling the heaviness in the air surrounding that last subject. “Hey lets play twenty questions” I piped up, hoping for a change of pace, and by the way his expression changed I could tell he was okay with that. “You first, your number is lower than mine” I laughed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So yeah that’s the most recent chapter, again I really don’t know when the next chapter will be up. I hope you enjoy!

#ben hardy #ben hardy fic #ben jones #6 underground #6 underground fic #four x reader #four x eight #billy/four #four fic

[rosesareviolentlyread]

Prelude: These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

First post on whump and of course I decide to take my truly darkest plot and use it. I’m not sure where this is on the dark scale for this community, but I mean I guess beware?  CW: Self-harm, possibly implied suicide attempt, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy, box boy setting, pet whump setting, modern slavery, domestic abuse, parental abuse, self-whump, caretaker as whumper

Thanks to @ashintheairlikesnow​ for both inspiring me and also letting me use Karen Renford, who may make an appearance in another piece with Ward about his particular taste in pets. “Amen, amen. But come what sorrow can,

It cannot countervail the exchange of joy

That one short minute gives me in her sight.

Do thou but close our hands with holy words,

Then love-devouring death do what he dare;

It is enough I may but -”

DING-DING-DING-DONG….DONG-DING-DING-DONG

The nine-chimed tune interrupts the man’s gravely reading of Shakespeare, causing him to blink, squinting in the fading light of the fireplace at the old grandfather clock that has moved on to loud BONGS to state the late hour.

Pulling off his glasses, the old man rubs at an eye “Oh my, is it already ten? Well, it’s best off to bed for both of us. We can pick up tomorrow” 

In the opposite plush leather armchair, a blonde girl blinks herself awake. Only a round, soft face is visible beneath a warm-knit blanket that cocoons her against the chair like a fly in a spider’s web.

“But Mr. Richard we were ju-u-u-st getting to the good part” Though she pouts her lip, tilting her head slightly with wide eyes to get her way, a yawn betrays her own exhaustion. 

“We can continue tomorrow, Juliet. I know you’ve memorized it already anyways. Now why don’t you run along to bed, pet? I’ve had Anita put on the heavy down comforter, we don’t want you catching another cold. I’ll be up in a minute” The man’s blue eyes drift fondly to the girl, snuggled close by the fire.

 Outside the window, soft snowfall signaled the coming of winter for his mountain home. He’d originally intended for them to seek warmer weather, perhaps in the villa in Italy. It was better for Juliet’s health, but seeing the girl enjoy winter was something they’d been unable to do for a while. With luck, she’d stay healthy enough they could enjoy it for a little longer. 

“Yes, Mr. Richard. Goodnight” With a tired smile, she wraps the overly large blanket around herself like a cloak, looking all the part a child playing dress-up. Warm lips press to the top of his white-haired head, small arms gently embracing him as well as they could from behind the large chair. With practiced ease, he rubs a warm circle on the back of one slender hand, eliciting a slight purr from the girl. And then she was gone, drifting through the house in her makeshift white cloak like a ghost. 

Richard Ward sat for a minute enjoying the fire. He was a lucky man. To have such a wonderful pet, who, while frail, enjoyed every moment of his presence. Who was devoted to every caring touch. The hours of reading to her in fevered delirium, to wheeling her in the garden when her legs refused to work, to petting her head softly when pain made sleep impossible. 

Richard Ward had learned to cherish the bad and the good in life. In business he’d learned to find opportunity in every situation. Unfortunately, it took the death of his own son  for him to take that moment into his personal life.  But now, with Juliet, he cherished the times in health as well as sickness. 

Now, he lived for every moment, every pain and pleasure, intertwined. With the fortune he’d amassed he could do right by his Juliet, by the world. He’d take care of Juliet forever, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow as the Bard said. 

But first, he had to wait for tomorrow, and Richard Ward didn’t think five more minutes by the fire could hurt its pace. 

So he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of fire, happiness, and family, content with his life. 

And woke no more. 

----

In the middle of the night, some phantom pain bolts Juliet upright, covered in her own sweat. The blood of her heart pounds hot in her ears. Nightmares of fear and pain were common in her life, but so was their instant remedy: Mr. Richard. 

So wrapped in the same blanket as earlier, she pads down the hall, letting the warm glow of lights made to look like flickering candles illuminate  her way. 

“M-mr. Richard?” Her eyes feel wet with automatic tears, lip and voice trembling with an unpracticed, inherent ease. Enough to show fear, but not enough to look ugly. She knew she looked ugly when she cried. 

The old oak door to his room creaks open, revealing the same soft flickering light by an empty four-poster bed. With a sigh, fear almost forgotten, she heads for the grand stairs, back to the drawing room. Her silly old man had probably fallen asleep in his chair again. But that was alright. 

Maybe if she was good, if she made up a convincing nightmare, he’d keep reading to her until she fell asleep. Would rub the sore spots she could never tell if were real or imagined any more. The mere thought brought a smile to her face, a quick pace to her light steps. 

But when she entered the room, she found no warmth. The fire had died out into crumbling embers, letting a chill in through the chimney. Yet even its breeze that threatened to freeze her bones didn’t seem to be able to move the suffocating stillness. She felt it creep into her veins, wrong, as she fearfully walked over to Mr. Richard, sat still in the chair facing the only dying light. 

But her eyes softened to see his sleeping face, book open in his lap with eyeglasses set in the spine. The moonlight highlighted his pale, wrinkled face, but it was one she loved. One that took care of her, no matter how much trouble she was. 

Gently she placed a kiss to his forehead to wake him, already imagining his warm touch on her aching limbs-

Only to be met with the same ice in her veins. With the same stillness that threatened to stop her chest. 

“M-Mr. Richard?” She wobbled out, voice honest, not practiced. Truly imperfect, instead of perfectedly so. 

But his body didn’t move. 

So she touched his shoulder. And then grabbed it. And then shook it. 

But his body didn’t move. 

Juliet felt her breath come in small gasps, like when she was sick. But she wasn’t sick, was she? Was this a bad dream? No. Because Mr. Richard woke her from bad dreams but now he wouldn’t wake up. 

No, she just couldn’t wake him, because everything was fine. When everything was fine, Mr. Richard was sad, a kind of slow sad where the world felt too perfectly wrong, too boring. So she just had to make it wrong to make everything perfect again. 

So Juliet did what she’d been trained to do. She reached for the book, for the crisp page, and quickly slid her finger along it until sharp pain and blood dripped warmly from the edge. 

A whimper from her throat, and she held the wrist as more and more blood, impossibly warm from how cold she felt ran almost black in the barely light down her wrist. 

“Mr. Richard, I cut myself, c-can you kiss it better?” Honey voiced, thick, almost saccharine but something felt wrong. Everything felt wrong, her voice couldn’t be right. 

But his body didn’t move. 

So she pressed the bloodied finger to his lips, even as touching them threatened a shiver through her body. 

“See Mr. Richard? It hurts”

But his body didn’t move. 

With a whimper, she tried to think. Why wasn’t it working? He always came when she was hurt.

But sometimes, if it wasn’t enough, he didn’t come. 

Quickly, Juliet crossed to the small table for Mr. Richard’s drinks, grabbing the small knife he used to make the pretty orange twists she liked in hers. 

Back in front of it, in front of the still closed eyelids, she slid the knife along her palm, flinching with practice at too familiar pain. Making the high, pained sound, that one she never knew if was real or not anymore. 

His body didn’t move. 

Juliet felt tears, real tears prick at her eyes. Why wasn’t it good enough? Why wouldn’t he help her? 

She did everything right so he’d help her, so she’d get the caring touches. Like they’d taught her at the Facility. When she was sick in winter, she’d walk outside at night without clothes to stay sick. 

She’d rub dirt in wounds. She’d trip down stairs, she’d slam her hand in doors, she’d burn herself on the oven.

And when Mr. Richard was bored with what she could try, he often helped her. Because sometimes he’d give her medicine and she’d wake up and couldn’t move her legs for days. Sometimes she’d feel sick to her stomach from a drink he’d give her, until she puked for hours.

That’s it. He just wanted her to try harder. To be a good girl and go back to doing it all herself. She had to earn his caring touch. And Juliet could do that. 

Determined, she climbed the two-story staircase in the entrance hall, heart thumping. This would work, and Mr. Richard would wake up, and he’d take care of her. He’d hand feed her soup again, and gently brush her hair. He’d read her Shakespeare until she fell asleep, and bring treats from his business partners who wished her a speedy recovery. Everything would be fine. 

So why was she crying? 

With tears in her eyes, Juliet climbed the barrister, staring down at the black marble floor far below, almost swallowed in darkness. The blanket fell to the floor, a pile like pale bones in a pit. 

She pushed off, and her world exploded into painful darkness as the scream was ripped from her throat. 

--

‘Anita’ wasn’t sure how much of this she could take. Richard Ward was on the board of WRU, and she was so, so, so close to figuring out where the sick old man kept some of the emails, the dealings, the proof of WRU’s real workings. With his tech empire, they suspected Ward helped them target potential ‘candidates’. Helped them recruit and hire handlers with the appropriate mentality off the dark web. It was enough potential dirt for them to make real progress in the Pet-Lib movement. If only she could figure out where he kept it. 

And it’d been an easy enough job. A boring one, honestly, as she cleaned the house under the flimsy false identity of an illegal immigrant the man had barely bothered to check. She even got enough money to live on and give a fat check to the safe houses from it, damn rich bastard. 

But she was ready to tell them, tell Tara, she couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t watch this fucker and his pet, whatever he’d made the poor girl into. 

At first, she’d thought it was true, that he’d just gotten some pet with a lot of health issues. 

But then she’d seen the girl purposefully trip, break fingers, grab a burning hot plate straight from the oven. Seen her do those things without wincing and then let the tears fall so perfectly. Fall into his touch, the touch and care that made the old man beam.

She’d even found the goddamn name for it. Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Pleasure at taking care of someone so much that you cause them pain, make them to get sick, just to make them better yourself.

Richard Ward ordered a pet that would hurt itself for his touch, for his care. They’d turned a girl into some sick pain robot, and Mia didn’t even want to think how. She could barely watch now, wondering how he manufactured the illness and pain Juliet took with thankful smile, for the chance that he’d be kind. 

Figures there’d be someone somehow as fucked up as Karen Renford in WRU. 

So yeah, Mia was ready to quit being ‘Anita’, because even if she knew what she was doing could help kids from not becoming like Juliet, she wasn’t sure how much she could take watching. 

It was with this thought that Mia started and ended each day, determined to quit the day after tomorrow if she couldn’t find the files. 

Unlocking the door, Mia felt the similar tug of dread, ran through the same conversation Tara had taught her to help her get through when these undercover missions were hard. When she couldn’t just grab a pet and run like she wanted.

But something felt...off. ‘Anita’ was always first to arrive, to open the obscene curtains, to transform the vintage fashioned home from night to day. She was used to the entrance being cold, the fires being out. Weird guy also had a fetish for the life of antiquity, but Anita had gotten used to it. But today, the coldness seemed to seep into her bones. 

Probably should’ve just brought another sweater she thought as she walked through the service entrance, opening curtains as she went. 

Kitchen, dining room, tea room, sitting room. It was actually pretty satisfying to watch the light suddenly dance in, dim streaks through trees in the early morning. 

Or at least it was until she saw it fall on the body of Richard Ward, causing her to jump back, nearly  knocking over probably worth more than she’d make in her entire life. 

“Oh, Mr. Ward! I didn’t see you there.” Her heart threatened to flutter out of her chest, so much so that she’d almost forgotten her ‘accent’. She hoped he wouldn’t notice. 

But there was no response. 

Cautiously, Mia walked over, touching the old man’s shoulder to gently wake him.

It was stiff, cold. Dead. 

The fucker was dead. Pale as a ghost except for the tiny smear of dried blood on his face. 

The same dried, dark brown blood  that was dripped over his body, onto the book, onto the carpet, on the table holding the bar cart’s knife coated in the same. Dried blood. 

Quietly, Mia picked up the knife, the only weapon in reach. Nothing else was out of place, and as much as she wished it was, the blood didn’t seem to be Ward’s.

She tiptoed out of the room, following the dripped and dried bloody path into the entrance way. By the ridiculously ostentatious staircase, under the overhang, was a small...lump. Squinting her eyes in the dim entrance way, Mia could make out what looked like an slender arm, a head of blonde-

f u c k, fuck fuckFuckFUCK

The hardest thing about this job had been keeping her potty mouth to herself and playing the part of some Downton Abbey-esque servant in keeping with the man’s antiquated tastes. But upon seeing the small body, twisted at odd angles beneath the second floor overhang, her gut told her this job deserved every version of fuck imaginable. 

Scrambling over to the small girl Mia knelt down, hands shaking as she felt around the throat for a pulse that wasn’t the one banging in her ears. It took a minute of pressing, of forcing herself to breathe dammit before she found it, weak, but definitely there. 

Gently, so gently so as to not jostle her neck or head, Mia stroked a hand over Juliet’s brow, the way she’d seen Ward do countless times when the girl was sick. Mia tried to stop trembling, to stop thinking about how maybe if she’d told Tara about Ward, about his taste in pets, they would’ve focused on rescuing Juliet instead.

 If Mia hadn’t been determined to hide the real Ward so they could have their cake and eat it too. 

“C’mon baby girl, wake up for me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please, fuck, please wake up” The words fell, soft and pleading from her lips. 

Hazy blue-grey eyes blinked up at her, slow, glassy with pain. The body attempted to shift, only to whimper with pain, real pain. Not the fake whimper Mia had learned, but something deep and animalistic in her throat that reminded Mia more of a street dog than a person.

“There you are. It’s ok, you’re ok” She tried to keep her voice calm, gentle. To not let her hand shake as she thanked whatever god there was in this fucked up world that the girl hadn’t lost too much blood, hadn’t completely cracked her head open, even if her legs looked like snapped twigs. 

After a few moments of mumbled words met by calm shushing noises from Mia, Juliet finally strangled out “‘Nita, why din’t Mr. Richard wake up?” 

Mia paused, upon hearing the slurred, pained words. This wasn’t an accident. Juliet had done this to wake him up. Because the man had a second-sense for any pain in his vicinity. Even if he was a demon, not even the call of his previous pet’s pain was enough to bring his sadistic ass back from hell. Thank God.

A whimper, and Mia was immediately pulled back from her thoughts, petting the girl’s head. Because it didn’t matter where that sick fuck was. He was dead, Mia hadn’t found out where he kept his things, and she had only a few hours before other servants got here. Only a few hours to do something right on this mission.

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m gonna get you help ok? You’re gonna be ok”

Reaching into her uniform, Mia groped for the burner phone constantly pressed against her chest. At least bras were useful for hiding things, as much as she hated them. She breathed through her nose, steadying her breath and hoping questions could wait as she pressed the number.

“Tara? Yeah, I need an evac for me and a pet at Ward’s yesterday.”

Because this was Mia’s fault, because she waited for tomorrow’s petty pace to paint her a yesterday lighted fool.

#BBU #Box Boy Universe #Richard Ward #Juliet #Mia Carlson #Violent Delights #tw: self-harm #tw: suicide attempt #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: modern slavery #pet whump #tw: Munchausen Syndrome by Prozy #tw: schadenfreude #whump #whumpee #caretaker as whumper #self-whump #tw: abusive relationship #tw: abusive parent #box boy #box babe #conditioning #brainwashing #jesus why did I make this my first contribution #we'll see if I continue this #its honestly dark even for me