#But that in between part of the actual intent is *vital* and the purposeful self sabotage just angle never sat right with me

[cryptvokeeper]

In my time honored tradition of “I like rise Leo but in a slightly to the left way of the general fanon interpretation” I propose: yes, Leo was being a bad leader and not communicating with his team during the movie because he didn’t want the responsibility of being leader HOWEVER he was not purposely self-sabotaging in an effort to get Raph to take leadership back. Instead, he was going solo and not working with anyone in order to avoid leadership altogether and not make calls and decisions that could potentially fail.

[intersex-support]

Something that has been helpful for me when having conversations about what counts as intersex is to really engage in enquiry about what the label means and how we're using it. To me, it's been more helpful to think through questions like:

What purpose does labeling a variation as intersex serve?

In what ways is societal understandings of "typical" changing?

Why was the label of intersex created and has our use of the label shifted?

What ways are we building intersex community? What do we want intersex community to look like?

How do our experiences of oppression impact our understanding of intersex as a term?

What sources are we drawing from when we develop definitions of intersex?

What is the history of the way intersex has been used?

What ways has intersex community been exclusionary in the past, and is that in line with our current values?

Definitions of intersex have always been tied up with what the medical world decides to classify as differences of sex development, but especially in the past twenty years as intersex community has grown more connected, we've started to have a lot more self-determination in our communities. But I think a lot of people still really have a misconception that intersex is a biological "third sex" that is strictly medically defined, and that there are clear cutoffs between intersex and endosex.

Instead, I'd like to bring in the concept of compulsory dyadism to introduce a framework where intersex is an intentional political label used as a way to build community for the people whose variation of sex characteristics are most impacted by the stigma and violence associated with compulsory dyadism.

Sex diversity is not just limited to intersex people. Even within the boundaries of dyadic/endosex bodies, people have variations like different amounts of body hair, penis size, hormone levels, breast size, as well as things like disabilities affecting any of those traits. For example, very few people actually have all the "ideal" traits that line up with this constructed idea of an endosex body that has the exact "correct" amount of estrogen, the right size chest, the ability to bear children, "normal" periods. Many endosex people might have a variation in one of those aspects at differing times during their life, such as during menopause, for example. And this framework can help us understand how diagnoses such as endometriosis are not intersex, but people might still notice overlaps in certain experiences.

But the reason that not everyone is considered intersex and the reason that having a separation between endosex and intersex is important is because of the stigma and violence associated with straying further and further from that dyadic norm, and intersex is a label used to describe people who are the most impacted by that stigma and violence. We have been socially labeled as "deviating" the most from the "normal" sex binary, and consequentially face intersexism both on a systematic and personal level. Our collection of sex variations becomes located entirely outside of the sex binary, and as a result, we often face curative violence, social stigma, and systematic exclusion from many parts of society.

This definition isn't a perfect definition. I think we need to have room to develop more nuance around the fact that many intersex people might not feel like their experience of being intersex has brought them any personal stigma or violence, as well as understanding that there isn't going to be a universal intersex experience. Even when discussing how intersex people are the most impacted by compulsory dyadism compared to endosex people, I think it's important to recognize that within the intersex community, our additional intersecting identities are absolutely going to influence our experiences with oppression and that it's vital to intentionally uplift the members of our intersex community who are most impacted by oppression. In the United States, the creation of the sex binary was an explicitly racist process, and racialized intersex people are subject to additional layers of stigma, violence and scrutiny. (Check out chapters 4-6 in the book Cripping Intersex by Dr. Celeste Orr for a really in depth discussion of how antiblackness and compulsory dyadism are forces behind why the Olympic sports sex testing has pretty much exclusively targeted Black women from the Global South, regardless of whether or not they are actually intersex. Also recommend reading The Biopolitics of Feeling: Race, Sex, and Science in the Nineteenth Century by Dr Kyla Schuller.) I also have talked with many intersex people who are tired of us always being represented through trauma narratives in the media, and who want us to be able to build a definition of intersex that isn't based around violence or tragedy. And I think that's really important that we also share our stories of intersex joy, and pride, and healing. I think that claiming intersex can be something really radical, and that's super valuable to me.

Overall I think that if we build our discussions around who is intersex on concepts to do with our social and political location, and take into consideration concepts like compulsory dyadism, sex diversity, and disability, we are going to be able to understand why any of it matters better than if our determinations of intersex identity are based solely in medicalized concepts of a third sex.

TL;DR: Although endosex people also have diversity when it comes to sex traits, intersex is still an important label that not everyone can claim. Compulsory dyadism is a force that affects all of us, but intersex people are the most impacted by compulsory dyadism and face intersexist stigma and violence for our intersex variations. As a result, intersex is an important label for us to claim so that we can build community and solidarity around our experiences. I think it is better understood as a sociopolitical label that describes the relationship between our biological bodies and the cultures we live in, rather than as a medicalized term that described a coherent "third sex."

other intersex people feel free to add on to this post-I'm only one person without all the answers, and would love to hear other perspectives!

[khloeblair]

Prompt: Highlights (part 2) from Seth’s April 8, 1970 session in Seth Speaks.

You are learning to be cocreators. You are learning to be gods as you now understand the term. You are learning responsibility — the responsibility of any individualized consciousness. You are learning to handle the energy that is yourself, for creative purposes.

You will be bound to those you love and those you hate, though you will learn to release and lose and dissipate the hatred.

You will learn to use even hatred creatively and to turn it to the higher ends, to transform it finally into love.

The settings in your physical environment, the sometimes lovely paraphernalia, the physical aspects of life as you know it, are all camouflages, and so I call your physical reality a camouflage.

Yet these camouflages are composed of the vitality of the universe. The rocks and stones and mountains and earth are living camouflage, interlocking psychic webs formed by minute consciousnesses that you cannot perceive as such.

The atoms and molecules within them have their own consciousness, as do the atoms and molecules with your body.

Since you all have a hand in forming this physical setting, and since you are ensconced yourself in a physical form, then using the physical senses you will only perceive this fantastic setting.

The reality that exists both within it and beyond it will elude you. Even the actor is not entirely three-dimensional, however. He is a part of a multidimensional self.

Within him there are methods of perception that allow him to see through the camouflage settings, to see beyond the stage.

He uses these inner senses constantly, though the actor part of himself is so intent upon the play that this escapes him.

In a large manner, the physical senses actually form the physical reality they seem to only perceive.

They are themselves part of the camouflage, but they are like lenses over your natural inner perceptions that force you to “see” an available field of activity as physical matter; and so they can be relied upon only to tell you what is happening in a superficial manner.

You can tell the position of the other actors for example, or time by clock, but these physical senses will not tell you that time is itself a camouflage, or that consciousness forms the other actors, or that realities that you cannot see exist over and beyond the physical matter that is so apparent.

You can, however, using your inner senses, perceive reality as it exists apart from the play and your role in it.

In order to do this you must, of course, momentarily at least turn your attention away from the constant activity that is taking place — turn off the physical senses, as it were — and switch your attention to those events that have escaped you earlier.

Highly simplified indeed, the effect would be something like changing one set of glasses for another, for the physical senses are as artificial, basically speaking, to the inner self, as a set of glasses or a hearing aid is to the physical self. The inner senses, therefore, are but rarely used completely consciously.

You would be more than disoriented, for example, but quite terrified, if between one moment and the next your familiar environment as you knew it disappeared to be replaced by other sets of data that you were not ready to understand, so much information from the inner senses must be translated in terms that you can comprehend.

Such information must somehow make sense to you as three-dimensional selves, in other words.

Your particular set of camouflages is not the only set, you see. Other realities have entirely different systems, but all personalities have inner senses that are attributes of consciousness, and through these inner senses communications are maintained about which the normally conscious self knows little. Part of my purpose is to make some of these communications known.

Notes:

None.

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Welcome back! Hope you enjoy✨

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, cursing, shouting, and fighting. No blood mention. Just broken bones and stuff.

2.1k+ words [originally 1.6k but I revised it and added more details!]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5 Part 6

Sensing another one behind me, I went low and struck his leg with mine, using his fall to punch his chin with my right fist this time, being careful to use a controlled amount of force or else the nerve I hit will result to permanent brain injury and can be fatal.

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy's lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi's p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

"Smash her head Dan!" The man behind him yelled.

This 'Dan' went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don't get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don't give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

At the last few moments, with my eyes still shut, I changed my form. I followed his aura and pictured out the shape that was drawing up to land a serious blow to my head. Dan is solid and heavy, but everyone has at least one weakness. And this guy is not spared from that.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I opened my right fist, right foot forward and relaxed my arms, my legs serving as a firm foundation for my upper body. With the bat inches away from me, I smoothly dodged to the side, using my palm to push away the hand holding the weapon and punched a vital pressure point right under his bicep.

I bent my legs even lower and struck the center of his ribs with my thumb, closing my hands as I jabbed his sciatic nerve on each side at the same time, both located in the middle line of the thigh between the groin and the knee. A solid blow to those nerve points will cause intense pain and shock to the person, along with a temporary immobility of the feet.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

With the support of my left leg, I went behind the man, standing straight and proud. Calm, I opened my eyes when I heard his fall, staring right into the fearful ones of the moron that started all of this.

"Y-You- You killed them!"

Is he that dumb?

"Correction, I didn't. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm." I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

"S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!" He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

"You wanna know who the real monster is?" I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

"It's you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it's you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human."

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

"I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right."

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni's guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

"What have you done?!" A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

"Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—"

"You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!"

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

"Now let's not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student." A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

"What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean's son?!"

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

"Ma'am they are—" I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

"Helpmehelpmehelpme!" He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. "I don't know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!"

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

"Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your" —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— " buddies over there!"

"She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—"

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed...irritated?

Oh no. At me?

"I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here." He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. "What she's speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first."

"And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?" Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was...foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I'll do?

"How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?" An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university's formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. "And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions."

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

"Now then, Miss...?"

"Blackbell."

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and... astonishment?

She cleared her throat "Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean's office, along with your, companion."

Weird.

"Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you." She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

"Uh. Hi?"

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. "Hi."

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

"I uh, uhm. Are you mad?"

With his brow raised, "Why would I be?"

Yeah why would he be?

"I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask." I stuttered, "You see I—"

"You two! Start moving before I force you to." A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

"We'll talk later, Pearl. For now let's get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won't expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean's son afterall."

"Yeah... Thanks. We should.. go." I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how...nice, yeah that's the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

:>

*******************************

Wow— when I copy pasted the original thing from my notes to my drafts in Tumblr I was like "okay, so. I should read it AGAIN before I post it if I wanna avoid more unnoticed mistakes and keep editing it again and again even though I posted it already! " And I never though it would lead me to adding almost a half thousand words and a pov shift— which i found interesting and really nice! Should I do it more often? Like little inserts of what Tai'chi or another characters thoughts in second pov in between fics if necessary? It's just, nice, to put them in and write all out about what they were thinking outside of Pearl's pov! Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed reading❤

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Four

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 3k author note ::  you should also check out my ao3 and wattpad my username is LEVIATTACKS on both platforms. ao3 usually gets to see my updates first, feel free to leave any comments you have i appreciate all feedback ^___^ → next part is here!!

"Refer to me with that name once more and I'll see to it that your neck is snapped in two. Fucking Brat." His voice curls into a low hiss.

He rises from the bed making you jolt, if he's moving towards his dagger everything will be over in a matter of seconds. The tension between the two of you is foggy and uncertain.

Your line of vision is cloudy, bleary tears seize it. You should have tried harder whilst researching, found a way to make Lev stay, it hits you like a sack of bricks - you didn't try hard enough, was that the issue, was that the mistake you made this time? Mind full of harsh expletives you continue to curse yourself. Of course he left, of course he fucking did. Your life was one large cyclical narrative of earning the love of others and ultimately losing it along the way some how.

The world conditioned you to become independent, to not rely on others for affection, earn what you must on your own. Making your own way through life is all you know yet here you are. On the verge of tears because this damn fool won't remember you. Happiness is a privilege.

Staring into the distance you don't see the way your husband's glare thins out, neither do you notice how he leans forward invading your personal space.

"Care to explain how we got into this situation?" Breath fanning across your face exactly the same way it had months ago you gulp and realise he's staring at your lacy nightgown in sheer distaste. Oh no, He's got the wrong idea completely.

You jerk your head up to explain and only then is the close proximity between the two of you evident, you nearly knock your head against his as if you're inebriated. "No, no. We've never done that. I promise we haven't. I wouldn't take advantage of you." You're sputtering and are all over the place trying to hold some sort of ground in this conversation.

"I see that you saw no issue with taking advantage of me in other ways. You scheming money hungry roach."

You want to clear your name and tell him you really haven't touched any of his money. None of it at all to the point it's shameful to admit, especially considering the fact that everyone else sees you as Duchess Ackerman.

"I have not spent any of your money I swe-".

A deafening bang resounds through the room - in his fit of rage he kicks one of the solid oak drawers at the side of your bed to the floor.

A squeaky gasp falls out of your mouth and you flinch away as you cover your chest defensively. Your arms aren't the best armour but they work for now. If he's to stab you your worst fear is him piercing through your heart. What you fear most is him ripping the vital organ out of the confines of your chest. If he laughs hysterically and watches it bleed out you'll never forgive him. Your worries and doubts are internally eating away at you as you witness the darkness seeping into the corners of his vision.

It's quiet and dark and with him as well as a heavy silence looming over you, the pressure on your shoulders is quite literally immense.

He takes a hold of your chin and obnoxiously squishes your rosy cheeks together, dark tundra eyes never falter from yours, that is until they abruptly sink south and he catches drift of the way your night gown has ridden up. Thighs on full display you want to pull the edges of the material down but are too afraid to move under his deathly stare.

"Do you know how long I was stuck inside of my own body? Having to act like a fool on the daily."

"What?" You shakily reply through parted lips.

He was able to see everything he did under the spell? This changes the dynamic significantly. Cheeks flaring up in embarrassment you recall how you ate up all the sweet nothings he whispered into your ears, the scarlet blush creeps to the back of your ears when you think back to how you fervently kissed him goodbye whenever he was sent to venture outside the walls. The sanguine tint only intensifies when you think about the night where you accidentally let his bare hands venture a little too far.

"Naive little thing," he grunts. "You will never be my wife." He scowls sniffing at you in pure repulsion.

Whiskey, cigarette fumes and strong sweat infused cologne revoltingly is what you're reminded of when you hear those words leave his mouth. The stench isn't present but nevertheless you feel your throat constrict, never expecting to see any sort of parallel form between Levi and that man. The one time you stood your ground against Father it led to you being dragged away from the palace grounds, beat until you were unresponsive and left for dead. He left you there with the intention of extermination, his final words as he bid you goodbye that night had been - "You will never be my daughter."

You have no words left to offer, you're tongue tied. Expressionless whilst he gauges your reaction, the both of you don't register how Levi's grip on your cheeks loosens, that is until the look in his hooded eyes changes. They're inky now smoldering with resentment, he lets go of the hold he has on your face completely.

The separation between your face and his palm is stony.

All you want at that moment is for Lev to come back and wake you up from all of this. You've had enough of this sick and twisted nightmare where he doesn't look at you the way he normally does. The way he manhandles you irks you and lights a dangerous fire in your stomach.

Blinking your tears away you finally speak after your long silence "I know that My Lord." taking what may be one of your final breaths you announce the unthinkable "Feel free to finish what you were unable to last time."

"No begging?" he chastises you pulling you by the back of your ear.

"Would you spare me if I did?" The close ended question you respond with leaves him stiff.

Snatching your forearm you note that even when he's not under the constraint of the spell physical touch is consistently one of his ways of getting a point across. He jerks your tired form forward. "Who do you work for?"

Blood running cold you know he won't kill you now. He thinks you've come here with a purpose, a motive, a reason. Hell, all you did was ask to be loved, to experience something before the candle which was your life burnt out.

"No one. You said you were conscious in your mind whilst it all happened, correct?"

He nods albeit begrudgingly.

"Then you must have seen how I tried."

His right eyebrow cocks upwards ever so slightly. "Tried?"

Now it's your turn to be frustrated. "Tried to keep my distance, tried to ignore your advances, tried to refuse your gifts, tried to maintain a level of respect so the both of us would have some dignity remaining if you were to return some day. When I realised you would not stop with your persistence I accepted." You fumed - the fretful irritation you feel only increases by the second.

"Cut the crap." He snarls at you.

You want to snarl back with just as much impatience but you bite your tongue.

Maybe it's because it's late at night, maybe it's because you're fatigued or maybe it's because you already felt feverish and emotional - Honestly, any other reason apart from your husband turning his back on you and announcing you're a mongrel. Feeling light headed you clutch at your scalp harshly trying to control yourself, even Levi's firm hand which until recently held your left arm recoils away.

Falling to your knees you feel the way the floor grates against your bare legs. Your urge to pass out is nearly met but then you hear him.

"Honey???" The concern in his voice which had made you fall in love with him now repulses you.

Fists balling at your knees you silently sob, pitifully shaking your head.

This can't be your reality.

It can't be.

You won't let it be.

That night you find out nightmares can happen in real life.

Levi Ackerman being a prime example.

After the bitter encounter you leave the room and order Lev to not come after you, you need your own space and as much as you want him to return to his sweet, loving self it's pathetic to seek any comfort in him. That tyrant is bound to make another appearance soon enough and mock you for falling into his trap again, but really can you blame the man? Is this his fault or your own?

Whoever is at fault there will still come a time where the Levi you love won't come back and call you his Love. You'll have to get used to that bleak desolate reality. Assuming he doesn't kill you before you have to.

Day has now broken and the brisk morning air bites at you, scantily clad in your nightgown, It's abnormal, you think to yourself. The position you're in is one you imagined countless times but you never really thought you'd end up this way. You're about to drift off to sleep right there in the middle of the Estate's field of hydrangeas, too tired to actually care anymore when you hear a rustle from one of the surrounding bushes.

"Duchess?" Your head turns when you hear Mikasa's soft voice emerge from the hedges, she steps through them and you both stare at each other. Mouth open, gaping in shock she takes in your appearance. You can only imagine how you look right now. Dark eye bags, you aren't wearing your usual noble attire not to mention Levi has accidentally left a bruise on one of your arms. It's faint because it is accidental (you hope) it does not go unnoticed by Mikasa.

Her gaze hardens and she approaches your disheveled form kneeling in front of you.

"What happened?" She whispers, the panic is evident in her voice and you awkwardly chuckle in response.

"I had a horrible nightmare. That's all, honest."

"And it's Y/N need I remind you again?" Mikasa is big on respect and sure, it is cute but you want to remind her it really is okay to call you by your first name. After all you would consider her a friend, you hope she sees you the same way.

Giving you a look of disbelief she takes the hint that you don't want to talk about it but much to your delight she does take the advice regarding your name. She sounds hesitant but that's how she usually is, she'll get used to it in no time at all.

"Well...Y/N, Breakfast has been prepared." You can see the way she eyes your unkempt hair and shivering form. "Would you like to eat with me and Sasha?" this is her way of comforting you.

Your lips quirk up into a smile for the first time in a while.

"I would love that."

Twenty minutes and a change of clothes later you've all relocated to your tea room, Sasha doesn't ask questions about your hair or odd choice of clothing earlier this morning. The shadows Levi's fingers left on your arm are now carefully hidden by the sleeves of your baby blue dress. "Oh! Viscount Kirstein me and Y/N saw him yesterday. He's just like the rumours." Sasha exclaims as she stuffs her face with a croissant.

Mikasa takes a short sip from her tea cup. "And the rumours would be?"

You pick a cinnamon roll from the center of the table."Undeniably handsome. I mean he's not my type though."

Sasha looks momentarily confused. "He was drop dead gorgeous what do you mean?"

You laugh a bit at the disbelief on her face, Mikasa chooses to not intervene - she's obviously yet to come to her own conclusions about him.

"Yeah but you said it yourself he fucks anything in a skirt." Sasha, is wide eyed at first and chokes on part of her buttered croissant, you have never been so vulgar before. You guess the argument has left you more likely to voice your reckless thoughts. Snorting you try to keep your laugh in, the ghost of a smile makes its way to Mikasa's face and eventually she too dissolves into a puddle of laughter. The three of you laughing together genuinely eases the recent burden on your soul.

Just as you're about to crack another joke the door to your tea room rumbles.

BANG!  You seem to always be cut off when you're here because Eren Jaeger has burst inside perhaps for the seventh time this month. It's the same routine as usual, he's panting and catching his breathe before he speaks. You're in no mood to hear what he has to say.

"If the Duke has sent you please leave."

Mikasa gives him a "You better not ask any questions and take the damn hint" kind of look but bless Eren for he is completely and utterly clueless.

"It's urgent."

"Still rejecting." You hotly reply.

Mikasa icily interjects "Eren, would you stop being so bothersome?"

He looks between you and Mikasa helplessly. "The Duke says he expects your refusal but I can't return empty handed, I'll be given a punishment and it'll be worse than being made to clean the stables." He gives you a pleading look and he's so much younger than you, it makes you feel like he's your responsibility. Eren has a charming way of making himself feel like everyone else's annoying younger brother. You accept that he can't suffer because of your selfish denial.

Sighing deeply you take a final bite of your roll, if you're going to die you may as well do so on a full stomach. Before you depart you awkwardly get to your feet dusting your dress to buy some time as you bid Mikasa and Sasha goodbye.

You're now following Eren through the halls of the estate. Deep down inside, you know you aren't fearful. He won't kill you, not yet at least, he thinks you're a useful source of information relating to his external enemies, he would be stupid to overlook that detail. You'll exploit it for now, your key is survival, it always has and always will be that way.

Bumping into Eren's back you apologize for being absent minded, you swear the walk to Levi's office has always been much longer. He spares you a worried glance and looks as if he's about to offer you words of support but he stops himself before he opens the heavy door to Duke Ackerman's office. Perhaps he doesn't find it appropriate. Good, you think to yourself. You don't wish to hear motivation from anyone right now, it's nothing personal, it's that nothing can possibly be of motivation right now.

The door opens ever so slowly, your brain races making everything move at a sedated pace. Then you find yourself jolting upright in surprise. You soon realise expecting Levi to be the only person there was naive on your part. Eyes tensely land on the blonde in one of the cushioned caramel chairs. It's the Commander of the Empire's entire battalion — Erwin Smith.

Levi has ratted you out for sure, you spare a glance towards him and see the way he's trying to hide his feelings of amusement. You want to lunge over his desk and wipe that smug smirk off his face. The playful lilt in his usual unreadable expression is driving you mad. Next to Erwin is respected and high ranking Squad Leader Hange Zoe, you're quite well accustomed with them you've exchanged your fair share of words together and Hange has never failed to bring a smile to your face. The amusing air around them lights up any room they're in... Apart from this one that is.

Eren closes the door behind you and you're silent not really knowing what to do.

"Take a seat my beloved." Levi drawls. This isn't Lev you know that much, he's always enthusiastically jumping to his feet when he greets you.

Awkwardly sitting in the chair next to your husband you shake Hange's hand first then move to shake Erwin's. His warm palms envelope yours and he places a hand on your left shoulder. It's not at all similar to the way Levi held you earlier in the morning, the feeling is genuine. He has no ill intentions, all he seems to want to do is open a conversation.

"Y/N, we may not have much time but." He stops, unsure if it's for dramatics but you still intently listen.

The sea that is his blue eyes draws you in, you've only ever seen him from afar. If honesty and gentleness were a person it would be him no doubt about it.

He pats your shoulder and you snap out of your day dream. "Y/N. Thank you for your sacrifice and commitment to this Empire." His warm yet serious smile which follows simply confuses you, in fact this entire situation is doing that.

Jaw slacking you're dazed and bewildered, your thoughts are diverting in all sorts of direction now.

Whatever does he mean by sacrifice?

[athenawrites-stuff]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Pairings: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, Fighting, Use of curse words, and shouting.

Word count: 1.8k + words

*

Sensing another one behind me, I went low and struck his leg with mine, using his fall to punch his chin with my right fist this time, being careful to use a controlled amount of force or else the nerve I hit will result to permanent brain injury and can be fatal.

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy’s lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi’s p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

“Smash her head Dan!” The man behind him yelled.

This ‘Dan’ went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don’t get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don’t give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

At the last few moments, with my eyes still shut, I changed my form. I followed his aura and pictured out the shape that was drawing up to land a serious blow to my head. Dan is solid and heavy, but everyone has at least one weakness. And this guy is not spared from that.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I opened my right fist, right foot forward and relaxed my arms, my legs serving as a firm foundation for my upper body. With the bat inches away from me, I smoothly dodged to the side, using my palm to push away the hand holding the weapon and punched a vital pressure point right under his bicep.

I bent my legs even lower and struck the center of his ribs with my thumb, closing my hands as I jabbed his sciatic nerve on each side at the same time, both located in the middle line of the thigh between the groin and the knee. A solid blow to those nerve points will cause intense pain and shock to the person, along with a temporary immobility of the feet.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

With the support of my left leg, I went behind the man, standing straight and proud. Calm, I opened my eyes when I heard his fall, staring right into the fearful ones of the moron that started all of this.

“Y-You- You killed them!”

Is he that dumb?

“Correction, I didn’t. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm.” I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

“S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!” He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

“You wanna know who the real monster is?” I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

“It’s you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it’s you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human.”

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

“I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right.”

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni’s guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

“What have you done?!” A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

“Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—”

“You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!”

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

“Now let’s not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student.” A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

“What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean’s son?!”

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

“Ma'am they are—” I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

“Helpmehelpmehelpme!” He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. “I don’t know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!”

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

“Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your” —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— “ buddies over there!”

“She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—”

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed…irritated?

Oh no. At me?

“I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here.” He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. “What she’s speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first.”

“And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?” Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was…foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I’ll do?

“How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?” An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university’s formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. “And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions.”

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

“Now then, Miss…?”

“Blackbell.”

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and… astonishment?

She cleared her throat “Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean’s office, along with your, companion.”

Weird.

“Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you.” She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

“Uh. Hi?”

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. “Hi.”

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

“I uh, uhm. Are you mad?”

With his brow raised, “Why would I be?”

Yeah why would he be?

“I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask.” I stuttered, “You see I—”

“You two! Start moving before I force you to.” A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

“We’ll talk later, Pearl. For now let’s get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won’t expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean’s son afterall.”

“Yeah… Thanks. We should.. go.” I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how…nice, yeah that’s the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

*************************************

Thank you for reading<3

I've already written Chapters 1-6 so stay tuned and check them out in my pinned post. Stay safe and healthy!

[saltoftheplanet]

Your basement in Nibelheim: Unpacking the new themes of Final Fantasy VII Remake 

The story told by Final Fantasy VII Remake is a reconfigured one. It tweaks, adds, and cuts the original's narrative in ways that seem designed to bring something new and unanticipated to the experience. However, these alterations are neither random nor incidental. They follow deliberate themes and patterns in the same way a completely original story might. Though not as readily perceptible, the Remake has a coherent outlook that it expresses most clearly through changes to the original narrative. All of its major changes are expressions of internally consistent concerns, albeit ones that differ dramatically from the original’s. By examining the principles underlying those narrative changes, we can understand the thematic axis along which they have been made and the message the Remake ultimately expresses.

Spoilers for everything follow.

Good guys good, bad guys bad

The first major narrative change appears at the end of the first chapter. At the culmination of Avalanche's mission to bomb the Sector One reactor, we see Shinra was actually responsible for the subsequent massive explosion that claimed many lives. The bomb brought by Avalanche was several orders of magnitude smaller, only enough to destroy a few pipes. 

In the original game, the opening bombing mission serves as a moral orientation to the world, and as a keystone event by which that morality will later be re-evaluated. Avalanche examines the justness of their actions as early as a couple hours in and is confronted about them directly as late as forty hours onward. The moral ambiguity they express is echoed in many situations and characters in between, from the conflict between Dyne and Barret, the addition of Shinra kidnapper Cait Sith to the cast of heroes, and your frequent run-ins with the openly amoral but otherwise amicable Turks. The cast is a self-interested one and the world they navigate is tangled, often without a clear or righteous path forward. 

In the Remake, Avalanche is never made aware that they aren't culpable for the explosion of the Sector 1 reactor. In fact, they agonize far more about the loss of life they are no longer in any way responsible for. In doing so, they enact a kind of moral pageantry - we as players have already been assured of their innocence and each time they question themselves, we are only further reassured that our heroes are fundamentally good. The world of the Remake is morally uncomplicated, and any character it expects you to extend sympathy towards will voice their conscience clearly, up to and including the Turks before they drop the Sector 7 plate.

The corollary is that the villains have become morally uncomplicated. They no longer have any need for the sort of rumination that is regularly employed to reassert that the good guys are good. Sephiroth illustrates this with particular clarity. In the original game, Sephiroth is morally reprehensible but easy to understand and empathize with because we participated in the reflective journey of self-discovery that ultimately made him a monster. His turn toward annihilation is the highly motivated result of coming face to face with the truth about the impact Shinra has had on his life - in other words, roughly the same thing that drives the cast of heroes. 

He also expresses his goals in the same terms as Avalanche, orienting his actions around the hypothetical good of the Planet. There is an implicit condemnation of Avalanche's heroism embedded in Sephiroth, who clearly understands himself to be righteous. As the primary antagonist, Sephiroth is the most fleshed out, but most of the villains with any degree of screen time illustrate their own complexities. The shallowest among them, President Shinra, is summarily killed off in the opening act.

But the Remake is not a morally murky world, and neither is it's incarnation of Sephiroth. His motives are either inarticulate or entirely absent as he appears throughout the story at regular intervals to menace Cloud for menacing's sake. Evil is now one of his innate qualities, the same as President Shinra’s, and adding purpose to his actions will only muddy the waters. While Tifa wrings her hands over the harm she may be inflicting by turning off Sector 4's sun lamps - a surely temporary measure - Sephiroth antagonizes Cloud for no reason in particular. Shinra's newfound culpability for Avalanche's bombing has similarly flimsy and inconsequential motivation. Ultimately, nobody's reason really matters; the point is simply to display their moral character, which is always exactly as we anticipate it. 

Cloud may flirt with selling his friends out for gil and Barret may wish to kill President Shinra, but neither will follow through because they are Good, as solidified by their intention. Even Cait Sith appears to sorrowfully witness the plate dropping, thus absolving Reeve for his complicity by proxy. Bad outcomes are the result of bad actors with bad intentions. The good guys may feel conflicted and responsible, but no harm can truly come from them. Otherwise, what's the point of bad guys?

Sadness is unnatural

The point of bad guys, if you're wondering, is to bring harm, suffering and loss.

The penultimate boss of the Remake is an incarnation of the Arbiters of Fate, a newly introduced concept. Ghostlike beings known as Whispers appear regularly throughout the story, often during familiar scenes from the original game, interfering with events to keep them "on track." Before the main cast squares off against their ultimate manifestation, Aerith and Red XIII explain that the Remake's Planet is one with a fixed destiny, and these creatures are its enforcers.

"But this isn't how it's supposed to be," Aerith tells us, which is the point to their presence in the first place.

Over the course of the Remake, it becomes apparent that she anticipates certain plot points of the original game, and in particular her own death. This is a point that Cloud seems to remember, albeit vaguely, as well. The implication of the Whisper's presence and Aerith's dialogue about defeating them to "put things right" supposes that the original game's most famously sorrowful moment was the product of interlopers, working on behalf of fate. 

To be clear, destiny is not the point of the Whispers. The point of them is that they create outcomes, and the undesirable ones can be changed through their defeat. This is further underscored by the ending of the game following their defeat, in which we see Zack, Biggs, Wedge and Jessie's deaths undone.

Final Fantasy VII was a game very informed by loss and uncertainty. Aerith's death is memetic for how shocking it was, yes, but in its original context the shock comes from the suddenness and permanence of the loss. More sorrow follows, as Cloud breaks down completely and Meteor is summoned. It hangs in the sky over the last act, the physical manifestation of a pall that Aerith's death cast over the game. Even as we approach resolution, the game underscores the uncertainty of life as one of its key themes - no one can be sure whether Holy will work or not, and if it does, what effect it might have on humanity as a whole. Mortality is a neutral and inescapable fact of life.

The sad things that happened in Final Fantasy VII largely did not happen because a being or force made them happen. The most attributable tragedy is Aerith's death by Sephiroth's sword, but her death was unique in the broader media landscape in that it's purpose was not to rally the heroes against the villain. It was to convey the suddenness and pointlessness of the death of a loved one - how abrupt and unjust it is to lose someone. Hollywood-style farewell speeches were deliberately eschewed for a more realistic and sobering finality. Cloud's emotional reaction and Aerith's funeral are the focal points of the scenes that follow. 

When things happen for a reason in Final Fantasy VII, the long arm of consequence is usually at play. Most tragedies in the game, including those wrought by Sephiroth, trace their origins back to the Shinra Electric Power Company. There is no fixed destiny, only the culmination of callous decisions made in hubris, greed and self-interest. All suffering wrought by Shinra pays dividends, but the only organizing point to it is that inhumanity and cruelty are self-perpetuating cycles, all the more difficult to escape once you are caught up in the pain of them. Thus, learning to deal with the pains of life truthfully and gracefully is a vital endeavour. Their ability to do so is ultimately what marks Avalanche as the heroes of this story. 

The Remake does not believe in the random cruelties of the universe and is not much interested in depicting them either. Death is a markedly different affair. When it happens to Biggs and Jessie, neither can be sent off without a farewell speech delivered against stirring strings. The people in the Sector 7 slums largely escape their pointlessly cruel death. Aerith's death is reconceptualized from a tragedy to a universal wrong needing to be righted, something that never could have happened if things had gone the way that they were supposed to. Loss and sorrow and suffering are not a part of the natural fabric of this universe, but aberrations visited upon it by external actors.

This is why it all must be "put right" by bringing back Zack, Biggs, Wedge and Jessie, and by implicitly averting Aerith's death. Suffering can be avoided through direct physical confrontation with whoever bears the blame. Obviously this means Sephiroth, who is actually responsible for Aerith’s death and has no other narrative reason to fight you, but it also means the Whispers.  The concept of Fate is a stand-in for your prior intuitive understanding that Aerith and Zack’s death are integral and unassailable parts of the story Final Fantasy VII was trying to tell. Loss is not so inevitable after all.

It's all about you

Of course, there is another dimension to Aerith's impassioned plea to defeat fate and set things right.

The Whispers aren't an emotionally engaging concept. The rough idea of destiny doesn't really make for good table stakes. Their meaning is only revealed at the eleventh hour, so why should you care whether or not the events of the universe are on the rails when none of the driving action in the past 45 hours has suggested you should? The answer, of course, is that you've played this game before.

The glimpses of a predetermined future and the sadness that must be defeated aren't really concerns of the characters - the "future" that needs to be defeated is in your memory. This game was written for returning players almost exclusively. Sephiroth's every appearance and the Whispers every interference hang on your foreknowledge of what is about to happen. The climax of this game is a confrontation with the most culturally enduring feeling it inspired. Namely, sadness - and sadness at Aerith's death in particular, one that fans begged for an aversion to in the many years that followed.

In one of the most memorable sequences of the original Final Fantasy VII, we're given an up-close view of Sephiroth's becoming as he transitions before our eyes from ally to villain. What happens to Sephiroth is often colloquially described as a break from reality but is better understood as a deliberate reordering. Faced with a reality he can't accept, Sephiroth reconfigures his perception of the world. His new worldview places himself and Jenova at the center, where good and evil are stark black and white and he has no more need of pain. His role is to be the chosen hero, so what is there to be sad about? Later, the same Nibelheim basement provides the site for Cloud to forget himself and undergo his own reconstruction of identity.

The world of the Remake has undergone a similar reconfiguration, but it's not Sephiroth at the center - it's you. The Remake is an incarnation of Final Fantasy VII adjusted to accommodate your hazy memories of it. But no such project can truly tailor itself to the particular and personal memories and experiences of someone engaging with a story for the first time. It engages instead with the cultural memory - evident in the emphasis on rectifying Aerith and Zack's deaths - and rounds out the rest with one key assumption about who you were when you first encountered Final Fantasy VII.

Specifically, that you were a child.

That you remember the good guys being good, the bad guys being bad and the sad parts being sad. The complexities and nuances beyond those points were difficult to grasp. To include them in the Remake would be to transgress upon your memory of the original story. The clear political and philosophical voice of the original might feel intrusive and awkward now that you are old enough to meaningfully disagree with it. The Remake wants to surprise you, but not disrupt you. "Nostalgia" is usually the word people reach for but I think even more apt in this case is "comfort."

The Remake is a comfort game, and as you sit in your proverbial basement and devour it, it tries to tell you what it thinks you want to hear. It supposes that your memory of the original, however detailed, is emotionally and intellectually straightforward, and aims to remake its story from that memory rather than from the meaning of the original game.

Engaging directly with the player's hypothetical and emotionally charged memory is the culmination of the Remake’s first episode of the Remake because it is the point of that episode. Built on acknowledging and reinforcing the memory of the player, the game naturally ends differently. The childish memories of the player is the primary concern of the Remake, and the finale naturally rearranges itself into a tacit promise to fulfill equally naive dreams that never came true in the original.

Illusions of Nibelheim

The net result is that the Final Fantasy VII Remake tells a story with a very different meaning and focal point than Final Fantasy VII, and in fact an often antithetical one. This is not surprising, as their philosophical foundations differ vastly. Where Final Fantasy VII was concerned with human mortality, changing identity and locating ourselves in a broader environment, the Remake is concerned with reflection and personal recollection, and in particular how those reflections are distributed across two very different points in time (time - a theme we are likely to see plenty of as the Remake saga continues on). The original looks outward, and the Remake looks inward.

The striking difference between the two calls to mind another of Sephiroth’s scenes in the original, the one that forms the cloth from which his every appearance in the Remake has been cut. Taunting Cloud and Tifa, he conjures an illusory burning Nibelheim and confronts their faulty memory of the events that transpired there. Sephiroth’s point is this: “What I’ve shown you is reality. What you remember, that is the illusion.”

It’s an illustrative example of the gulf in meaning between two works we once believed were intended to tell the same story. In the Remake, memory is the foundation of reality. In Final Fantasy VII, memory is precious, but deeply unreliable, and never preferable to truth. 

[gondorosi]

ASOIAF v/s GoT - Part 1: The  Disdain for Vulnerable Heroes

Book to screen adaptations are tricky as it is. Adapting high fantasy is even trickier as visual artistry quite often takes precedence over plot and characterization. It’s difficult to adequately portray complex morality, hard decisions and internal agony. Characters are often simplified and pared down to only a few most visually arresting characteristics (mighty king/queen, unbeatable warrior, mysterious magic person, wise-cracking smartass etc etc etc). Plotlines are reworked to make them non-controversial, consequences are ignored and the more difficult subplots are simply done away with. Such actions are common across adaptations, and GoT is no exception. 

The distancing of the show from the books started becoming significantly observable S5 onwards. At a certain pivotal point, the obvious heroic characters began to get pigeon-holed - the noble (Jon), the badass (Arya) and the conqueror (Dany). Crucial characters like Tyrion and Bran also began to lose all trappings of individual motives to dedicate themselves to a ‘greater cause’. Characters canonically unreliable and/or unfavourable such as Jorah, Sansa and Varys get painted in a far more positive light than they deserve. 

Of course, in Martin’s world the characters are far more layered and conflicted. And thus, to stick to the massively simplified (almost bastardized) show characterizations, D&D quite happily chunked off LARGE plot points essential to the main characters, in effect neutering everything that makes ASOIAF so fascinating to begin with.

Let’s first consider the two most obvious leader-heroes of the saga. Both Jon and Dany start out handicapped and subjugated in their own way, before quickly discovering that they have innate capabilities suppressed by their respective environments. Both of them find a role they are good at and use that role to accomplish something revolutionary. Both of them disregard the dangers posed by proponents of tradition and both of them are brought down or grievously hurt by those resistant to change. However, both of them are young. Both of them struggle with self-worth, purpose and identity. They’re two deeply traumatized young heroes who keep the truths of their hearts to themselves. However, the show begins to distance them from their vulnerability somewhere around the middle of its run. There’s a deliberate choice made to move away from complex characterization and focus only on heroics - whether its raining down fire from atop a dragon, or cleaving through enemies with a sword in hand. And while this makes for arresting and unforgettable visuals, you have to wonder why two such beautifully layered characters had to lose their tender facets to continue being badass heroes. 

Dany

No two ways about it - the show has done an exemplary job of building up Daenerys Targaryen the Queen and Conqueror (Season 8 exists only in the Upside Down). Her fiery nature, her courage and her incredible journey from a prized possession to a radical force commanding the very air around her. But before she earned all her titles, she was Dany - a quiet, observant and highly intelligent child who just just wanted to go home. The house with the red door is instrumental to Dany’s psyche as a person - and never mentioning it, or alluding to it takes away something vital from Dany’s story.

That was when they lived in Braavos, in the big house with the red door. Dany had her own room there, with a lemon tree outside her window. After Ser Willem had died, the servants had stolen what little money they had left, and soon after they had been put out of the big house. Dany had cried when the red door closed behind them forever.

All that Daenerys wanted back was the big house with the red door, the lemon tree outside her window, the childhood she had never known.

The red door features prominently in Dany’s thoughts, dreams and visions. To a young Dany, her name is as much a burden and a cage to her as the lack of a name is to Jon. He thirsts for the recognition and dignity of a true name, she dreams of the unfettered lightness of a life without the heavy legacy of her name.

It might sound contradictory, but for all that the show played up the power and near invincibility of the dragons, they skimmed over their ACTUAL importance to Dany’s entire Essos arc, and subsequently her identity. The show posits her as the Dragon Queen almost from the very beginning - whereas in the narrative of the books, it’s a realization she must come to after losing almost everything she’s fought for in Slaver’s Bay.

Remember who you are, Daenerys. The dragons know. Do you?

This line means much more in the context of Dany’s journey of self-realization than the show ever bothered to address. Through her entire arc Dany is struggling to place herself. She’s caught between the ‘Last Targaryen’ - the rightful ruler of Westeros set to take back the Throne stolen from her family by scheming enemies; and the Mother and Queen of the freed slaves of Slaver’s Bay who look to her to destroy a society which has progressed on the strength of broken bones of slaves. Beyond it all she is the Mother of Dragons - which brings all the boys to her yard. Dorne, fAegon, Victarion and Euron don’t give two hoots about the young girl who overturned the age old practice of slavery - they want her dragons. By the time she’s stumbling across the Dothraki Sea delirious, in pain and hallucinating, she knows not which of these three identities is who she truly is.

The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind. And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings.

That’s what the show misses. The crux of Daenerys Targaryen isn’t that she HAS dragons, it’s that she IS the dragon. The issue with this interpretation in the show is that to truly take Danerys being the last dragon to it’s intended narrative conclusion, you have to admit that her journey would not, and could not end with her becoming Queen of the 7K. The show turned her magic into a political prop which is entirely incongruous with the world-building elements established by Martin. ASOIAF’s magic doesn’t exist as a plaything and a tool for those desiring power. Magic exists to combat magic. Daenerys Targaryen is a conqueror, a queen and a rescuer but she is also more. (I could go on and on about Dany as the Last Dragon but that would be derailing the intent of this post.)

You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros. “It is such a long way,” she complained. “I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl.” 

This is not a Dany the show allows us to observe. The Daenerys Targaryen of the show is not allowed to be vulnerable or uncertain or crumble. She’s not allowed to question her purpose and path in the world. After all, how can the most powerful character in the show ever falter? This is where the show takes the easy way out of putting more emphasis on the visual extravaganza - dragons burning down ships and Emilia Clarke walking through flames unscathed are easy crowd pleasers. But these are also just surface level considerations of Dany’s power and importance. She isn’t who she is because she has dragons - she has her dragons because she is who she is. 

But a major point of contention is - who DOES she need to be? See, Dany has always known she’s ‘important’ - in the way political prisoners are important. In the beginning it’s only her family name which holds her value. Her gradual journey from being only symbolically important as a Targaryen, to owning her own narrative as herself is fraught with considerable internal turmoil. The identity Dany cherishes most is that of Mother. Choosing to free the slaves in Astapor and Yunkai is the first decision she takes as a player with power and resources, and this decision has NOTHING to do with her destiny as a Targaryen. You identify a hero by their choices - and it is in this moment, uninfluenced by magic, or a greater power, this young girl sees the horror in a long established custom and CHOOSES to fight it. I would anyway have been invested as Daenerys as a character - but that one action firmly placed her on a pedestal .

In spite of where her destiny may pull her she wants to retain her softer dreams, her yearning for an uncomplicated happiness. At the same time, she’s voluntarily taken on the burden of ruling in Mereen, despite the responsibility very clearly chaining her. At the end of ADWD, her fevered dreams seem to suggest that both her softness and her duty are pulling her away from her true destiny. Dany’s struggles with self revolve around choosing between her identities as the Dragon, the Mother and the Conqueror - I personally subscribe to the belief that Dany ‘finding herself’ would mean realising that her three identities are not separate, but feed into each other to create the Daenerys Targaryen she is meant to be.

The show puts the cart before the horse and ignores the reverberating impact of a piece of Old Valyria being reborn on the shores of the continent where the empire fell. Her trek through the Dothraki Sea once she escapes on Drogon’s back is such a crucial pivot point in her story - it is literally the point where the old Dany is being left behind for who she will ultimately need to become.

And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. "The last dragon," Ser Jorah's voice whispered faintly. "The last, the last." Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own.

After that, for a long time, there was only the pain, the fire within her, and the whisperings of stars.

She woke to the taste of ashes.

The show does make it clear that Dany’s ultimate destiny lies in Westeros - but the Iron Throne can hardly be it. Why will the last dragon be so singularly focused on a crumbling monarchy? Unjustly attacked and exiled and now fighting to retake their ‘rightful’ place - that’s a traditional fantasy storyline and in a purely monarchical power struggle needs neither Dany’s magic nor her dragons. The Iron Throne is such a low bar - what Daenerys attempted in Slaver’s Bay is ten times more difficult and impressive. As of this point in the books Mereen is on the brink of absolute chaos and the situation is much, much more convoluted than the show made it out to be. The political uprising of Mereen was dealt with so laughably on the show - ‘Bring dragons, Burn shit’ doesn’t solve any problems whatsoever but let’s save that for the next part.

Painting Dany’s journey back to Westeros as simply an exiled royal returning to take back what’s theirs removed the poignancy in Dany looking for home in Westeros. There’s this sense of yearning in her desperately looking for a place to belong in a country that’s little more than a fable to her. She tried SO hard to make a home with the Dothraki and to find a place as the ruler of Mereen - but if there’s one takeaway from ADWD it’s that Dany’s fate doesn’t rest in Essos. I expect WoW to be a bloody reckoning, an agonizing choice between Dany’s duty and destiny. The new world order she’s established is far too new and fragile to sustain itself. As we see from Cleon’s ascent in Astapor, evil opportunists exists everywhere, regardless of societal class. To cement her order, Dany and her inner circle need to stay in Mereen for a lengthy period of time. But Westeros is calling - she has to choose. It’s nowhere near as easy as the three Yunkish Masters being the only figureheads, the Greyjoy siblings traipsing into the pyramids with the ships she needs, and alliances falling into her lap just so that D&D don’t need to put in any effort into creating plot and can simply throw spectacular CGI at us.

My point is - you don’t need a dragon (or three) to fight Cersei Lannister and a court jester on ADHD masquerading as Euron Greyjoy (not Pilou, its obvious the dude read the books and expected great things from his character). You do however need them to fulfil the prophecy passed down generations of Targaryens, beginning from Aegon the Conqueror. You do need the last living embodiment of the magic of Old Valyria to combat the foul, unholy magic wielded by the utterly terrifying Euron Greyjoy of the books. The reason Aegon began his conquest of Westeros is beyond mere ambition - and if we go by what Martin himself revealed about his intentions, the Others ARE the final War. We had only 2 episodes in S7 to show Daenerys understanding the gravity of the Night King (godawful mission beyond the Wall and polar bear wights aside) - and then arrives the wrecking ball of S8 with its ‘Northern Independence’ and ‘my Iron Throne’.

The trouble with legendary heroes is this - they save the world for everyone else. Dany defeats all other claimants to the Throne and takes back Dragonstone, King’s Landing and the Seven Kingdoms, as Viserys wanted, and she believes her duty to be. She and Jon lead the Last Alliance against the Great Other. Maybe they win and live happily ever after. Maybe they win, but only after losing everything they hold dear. And maybe they win, and only lose part of themselves. Does that end Dany’s story? Is a Kingdom and a reign what she’s been searching for? Dany’s story only ends when she finds herself in front of that red door again. 

Jon 

It’s an infuriating irony that despite portraying him as MUCH softer than in the books, Jon’s vulnerability is either non-existent in the show, or is turned into a weakness. Where does the show ever dwell on his deep seated issues with identity, duty and survivor’s guilt? Where does the show address the raw power of his love for Arya? And why does the show think that the progression of Hardhome, being fucking murdered AND resurrected, and then Rickon’s death in front of his eyes would NOT leave a lasting mental impact?

To its’ credit, the show did clearly indicate Catelyn’s hatred for Jon. What we didn’t see, and thus don’t have a ready reference for (in the show) is how Catelyn’s treatment affected Jon. In the books though, you can clearly suss out the emotional impact of the years of Jon’s childhood.

He reached the landing and stood for a long moment, afraid. Ghost nuzzled at his hand. He took courage from that. He straightened, and entered the room. 

He stood in the door for a moment, afraid to speak, afraid to come closer. The window was open. Below, a wolf howled. Ghost heard and lifted his head. 

This is at Bran’s bedside when he’s still deep in a coma, with no certainty of whether he will ever wake again. Jon’s leaving for the NW, and this may very well be the last time he ever sees Bran again. Jon loves his little brother with everything he has, yet the overbearing emotion at this moment is his fear of Catelyn Stark.

Keep in mind that every POV hides something or the other from the reader. Thoughts and feelings may seem disjointed as a critical memory which aligns the two is missing. In this case, Jon is actively NOT thinking of any particular incident. Yet his fear is all pervasive. It’s an uncovered wound and it hurts him. We may not know exactly what has happened between Jon and Catelyn in the 14 years leading up to this moment, but Jon’s fear of her is very real. This almost paralyzing fear of Catelyn placed against the overbearing love he feels for Bran at this moment makes this exchange stand out for several reasons, chief amongst which is that Catelyn has left an indelible mark on Jon’s psyche. 

Robb and Bran and Rickon were his father’s sons, and he loved them still, yet Jon knew that he had never truly been one of them. Catelyn Stark had seen to that. 

By the time the moon was full again, he would be back in Winterfell with his brothers. Your half-brothers, a voice inside reminded him. And Lady Stark, who will not welcome you. There was no place for him in Winterfell, no place in King’s Landing either. 

The fear lessens once he leaves the halls of Winterfell, and bitterness takes its place. Jon’s feelings about her are tinged with fury and resentment. He’s long past hoping for affection from her, but what still rankles and will never stop being a source of anger, is that she deliberately tried to sabotage his relationships with others who most definitely were his family. 

Jon’s thoughts make it obvious that he is painfully aware that he doesn’t belong. For an awareness this heavy to be so deeply etched into a young boy’s entire being, the message has to have been reinforced intensely over the entire duration of his life in Winterfell. That’s not compatible with the assumption that Catelyn was only cold and dismissive of him. We don’t see the instances in either Jon’s or Catelyn’s viewpoints in the books, but the inference is all but thrown at us. 

Jon’s growth as a person, a leader and a revolutionary is dependent on his time with the NW just as much as his time with the FF. The show cut out far too many important aspects of his time with the FF, but atleast that part of his journey was treated with more respect than his accomplishments as a man of the NW. (Let me not start on the absolute blasphemy to turn one of the most decisive characters in the entire saga into a dithering, uncertain, meek fool in S8.)

Unlike Dany, Jon has never been important. He has no name, no legacy to uphold, no shoes to step into. All he has are his natural abilities - his startlingly accurate powers of perception for someone so young, his capacity for taking feedback to change for the better and his razor sharp practical intelligence. The text seems to suggest that Jon was indirectly forced to downplay his abilities due to his status - besting Robb was just not done.

With her deep blue eyes and hard cold mouth, she looked a bit like Stannis. Iron, he thought, but brittle. She was looking at him the way she used to look at him at Winterfell, whenever he had bested Robb at swords or sums or most anything. Who are you? that look had always seemed to say. This is not your place. Why are you here? 

It’s at the Night’s Watch that Jon first starts to become someone more than Ned Stark’s bastard - in his OWN estimation. The world will continue to see only a bastard and Ned Stark’s shame, but its here that Jon learns to accept and move beyond it. It’s in the yard of the NW training yard that Jon receives his first harsh lesson about himself - he’s lording the privilege of his castle education over boys far less fortunate than him. It’s at the NW that he has the opportunity to use his abilities. It’s here that Jon finds his calling as the champion of the misfits, the ill-begotten, the unwanted and the reviled. He becomes the de-facto trainer of the boys Alliser Thorne deems beneath his dignity. He’s the one convincing Maester Aemon of Sam’s worth as his squire. And it’s at the NW that Jon first begins forming his opinion of the wars of the south - something which he will carry till the end. 

When dead men come hunting in the night, do you think it matters who sits the Iron Throne?

The staggering impact of his experience in the NW to his character is an essay in itself. For the purposes of this post, suffice to say that without the NW Jon would never have grown to the position to have an impact on the greater story. As of ADWD, the Wall under Jon’s leadership has become somewhat of a rallying ground - hosting a King, a highborn Northern lady looking for deliverance and support, as well as the center for revitalizing the Watch, rebuilding the Wall and rekindling hope in the North.

At some point after his resurrection in the show, Jon’s portrayal starts edging over into the ‘noble, sacrificial hero’ archetype. This wouldn’t necessarily have been a BAD thing – if this ‘goodness’ and ‘nobility’ didn’t come at the expense of Jon’s overall characterization.

His ‘goodness’ comes in the form of forgiving Sansa for keeping the Vale army secret and keeping her as his closest confidant. This so-called goodness of heart is rank naivete the sharply perceptive and observant book!Jon would have been stupefied at. Jon knows to judge people by their actions – and Sansa’s actions made it obvious that she’s playing her own game and considers her brothers’ lives expendable collateral. The Jon who understood the heaviness of the mantle of leadership well enough to cultivate distance from even his closest friends in the NW would NEVER have allowed Sansa so close.

The ‘honourable’ show!Jon allows his Lords and his sister to question and challenge him openly. The ‘noble’ King Jon has to explain himself before undertaking a journey to gain a potential ally - the only possible ally against a War the North seems unwilling to believe despite the reports of the dead having been around since S1. The honest son of Ned Stark cannot lie to his House’s greatest living enemy. Lord Commander Jon would sooner have jumped off from the top of the Wall than take these decisions. He’s aware of the nature of power and authority, and that more than holding a position its important to make those around you believe you hold power. Power can do great good - but it is also fickle. 

Despite the NK and the AoTD being turned into a cosmic farce in the last season, the show did quite a good job of building up the horror, menace and sense of doom in the previous seasons. Hardhome is prime example of why the show was once the pinnacle of television – and what Jon saw there, coupled with the utter failure of his mission to evacuate all the FF would have pushed Jon to the brink of insanity anyway. From what we know of Jon, he carries the deaths of his father, Robb, Bran, Rickon and Winterfell close to him. Compound the steadily growing pressure of that loss with the fact that he loses Grenn, Pyp and Ygritte in the same night. Three of the people most important to Jon but a loss he was never given the time to process as Stannis’s army arrives the very next day. He’s still carrying this heaviness when Hardhome happens, and Jon is exactly the kind of man to blame himself for the people he was unable to evacuate. Not to mention, this is the first time he sees the Night King RAISE the dead – this is the point where the true power of the enemy is fully revealed. That was existential horror at its most visceral and not a sight a man is likely to forget, least of all a man who’s trying his best to create the only resistance.

Let’s forego the changed circumstances of Jon’s murder in the show and consider the act as is – Jon does the right thing, knows he’s doing the right thing and is betrayed and murdered for it. He’s dead and then he’s not and while he’s still struggling with resurrection, betrayal and the memories of Hardhome, Sansa arrives and he’s in the middle of the quest to retake Winterfell. It’s traumatic experience upon traumatic experience, a never-ending series of emotional turmoil with no outlet or time to grieve. This is the only reason I see Jon’s actions at the Battle of Bastards being true to his mental condition in the show – having Rickon die right in front of him when his little brother was pretty much the only reason he was able to gather the mental strength for the campaign would have unhinged him to the point of that ridiculously suicidal move.

But see that’s the last time we see any strong emotion from Jon. He seemed mentally and emotionally exhausted in the Winds of Winter episode, and that’s understandable but only at THAT point. That kind of exhaustion sets in only once you’re done with your battles and Jon’s true battle was just beginning. It’s just never acknowledged – when in truth he would barely have a handle on his temper and would be obsessed with the NK to the point of delirium. We apparently can’t have a functional main hero with his emotions all over the place, gathering the strength to do what must be done while falling apart inside. Or if we DO show him as someone struggling with himself, it’s to paint him as someone too weak to see the truth. Someone too blinded by love who should never have been in charge in the first place. 

Heroes are strong, brave, just and honourable. They are powerful and commanding and inspiring. And at the very core of it all, heroes are human. Wish the show had remembered that.

[doomstypewriter]

Warmth

I’m back with some Moceit because, god, the new video shook me. 

AO3

Summary: 

Patton wants to say something very important to Janus.

What anyone can get from that in the end is that he is very gay and in panic and should probably just talk things out with Roman.

It would have made it easy if Patton had clearly taken a side in his and Roman’s vicious back-and-forth. But he’d mostly maintained himself neutral. Not to mention how laughably good it had felt to hear him imply he was right. And now that. No implications. Outright appreciation. Why did warmth feel so unbecoming? “What?” he answered in a tiny voice shoved in the middle of an exhalation. His face puckered ever-so-slightly. Yearning. It would have been more useful to keep it as a thought

.

Word count:

1690

TW: 

Maybe unsympathetic Roman, but this is all from Janus' point of view (the general posture is neutral), Janus being a sarcastic bitch, a mention of Remus doing some whacky stuff but nothing mayor, mild arguing but gets sorted out. (Nothing more I can think of, still, if you do find something, please tell me).

Warmth

“So, Janus…” Patton began to speak feeling his way around.

He saw a change coming, on Thomas’ position regarding the dark sides and how that would affect them all. He had already taken a chance with Virgil at the time. He’d never regret that choice. Maybe that was the reason why he had gone there. 

“Yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out so soon, you just found out about it” answered Janus, leaning his elbow on the back of his left hand, while the right one bent in a dramatic gesture, almost touching his shoulder.

Janus looked everywhere except at him. In all honesty, he found everything about that situation perfectly comfortable and, no, the interaction was not at all forced nor the silence awkward. 

“By all means, do stay there just standing” after hearing this Patton made a sound of confusion, as if he was frowning with his voice. Because, heaven knows he’d sooner pass out than frown in public. As amusing as that mental image was, he had to clarify it, otherwise Mr. Nice over there would never cut to the chase. “By that I mean that we both got stuff to do, and, even though I enjoy your company so, so much, I have complots to plan and Remus won’t get unburied by himself; I imagine you’ll have cookies to bake, camp songs to sing or something equally vital for this world”. 

Patton took a breath. For a moment it seemed as it a confession was about to happen, something trascendental, information of a caliber that changes lives, ideas. Not yet. 

A small, apparently unrelated, laugh escaped him. 

“I didn’t mean to make you nervous”. 

This time, Janus did look at him straight in the eye. Patton felt he had been shoved under the bus of his gaze, it was not painful, but quite intimidating. Which was weird because, if Virgil was anything to go by, Janus had the tendency to shove people down a flight of stairs, not busses. Still, he played dumb and kept his goofy facade on.  

“Nervous?” the eyebrow of Janus’ human side raised to a height that could have been a mile, in a road trip straight to an expression of dubiousness. What a time on the cat-bus, or, well, snake-bus. 

He could have explained he’d come to realise that Janus had the pesky habit of deflecting with sass and not-so-subtle melodrama when confronted with something he did not like or when he got nervous. After all, his way of acting centered around getting what he disliked out of sight. Patton knew this first hand. Not because he knew Janus well, rather, due to the fact that he knew himself well enough. There are things one prefers to ignore. 

Patton had preferred to ignore the familiarity in Janus’ purpose and his, their personalities and motivations; which wasn’t exactly neat, being a dad and all. 

Perhaps it was time to step forward. 

To grow up. 

“I didn’t say it before and I think it’s not right for me to not let you know--”. 

Pursing his lips in an almost duckface, the reptile looked done with everything, and he hadn’t even heard the entire sentence. He rolled his eyes and raised his eyebrows, surprisingly proving that more of a bitch-face was indeed possible. 

“The entire interaction has been a delight and all, but let’s cut it here. If this is about Royal Pains then you don’t need to ‘let me know’ anything, he made himself clear, contrary to popular belief snakes are not deaf”. 

“That was not what I wanted to say” and, in all honesty, he would have rather not have Janus mention it. Now he was morally compelled to address the elephant in the room. He placed his hands on his hips to give himself an air of authority. “But both Roman and you said pretty nasty things and should go apologise each other”. 

“What a pity, there’s something in all of that jazz about talking to playground bullies that does not appeal to me. If I wanted to speak to children I’d just sit with Remus all day”. 

Patton frowned. 

That didn’t throw Janus off, and, by no means it made him want to comfort him to stop him from being upset. To suggest that would be ridiculous. But, if, let’s say, he did want to provide him with some degree of support, and this is one hundred percent hypothetical, he would hug him. Not that he’d ever  wondered about how that would feel like. 

“Do you think it is okay to just leave Roman feeling awful because you feel awful too?” Patton’s tone was kind as always, but his words did not tell the same story. “It might seem ‘fair’ but it’s not right. Using some other people’s vulnerabilities just because you’re angry, it is not even making you feel better. It only makes everyone more angry and sad. You too. Specially since you need to hear an apology as badly as Roman does--” 

“What would you know about me? I have told you my name, that’s about it. And.what.a.party.that.was. I am so thrilled that when I am at my most vulnerable, when I let my guard low cause I think: come on Janus, maybe it’s worth it, you could finally be heard and actually do your job… sorry, NO!” as if to further his point, or, most likely, his anger, he added a single fake laugh. “Someone has to barge in and make me feel like an absolute idiot for not hiding something for once. How is it that when Roman repeatedly uses others people’s vulnerabilities against people, for the sake of satiating his own need for self-importance, you turn a blind eye on it; but, when I do it I must be reprimanded? You’re all so self-righteous. Let me be the villain if needed be. I don’t need no apologies because neglecting the validation of the importance of my role is something I have always been able to handle. I don’t want your praise. Telling you my name is the last thing--” 

“Thank you”. 

The air left his lungs in a rush. All determination carried within his words deflated like a soufflè that had had the oven door opened too soon. A part of him bent to the gut punch of that sentence. He wanted to pry the mask of his eye caps. Cry. Always thinking that hearing it would leave him satisfied, proud, not disgruntled. Nevermind that quiet voice in the back of his head, screaming: yes! Finally! Finally. 

It would have made it easy if Patton had clearly taken a side in his and Roman’s vicious back-and-forth. But he’d mostly maintained himself neutral. Not to mention how laughably good it had felt to hear him imply he was right. And now that. No implications. Outright appreciation. Why did warmth feel so unbecoming? 

“What?” he answered in a tiny voice shoved in the middle of an exhalation. His face puckered ever-so-slightly. Yearning. It would have been more useful to keep it as a thought.

“That is what I came here to tell you. I forgot to say so before, with all fuzz, taking care of Roman and Thomas… I’m a busy dad, but I have to give an example, and when someone does something nice for you, you say thank you. I apologised so many times I forgot to say it more”. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you. Caring for Thomas… I was just doing my job”. 

“Yeah, but you did one snek of a job,” Patton laughed in a poor effort to break the tension between them. Only to fall back into the saccharine section of his disgustingly and not-at-all-endearing registre.“Janus, and it’s not okay to ignore that. Also… you kinda saved me”. 

Validation was something, huh. 

“You’re welcome, I guess”. 

It seemed that almost giving him a heart-attack was not enough. Patton had zero self-control and simply threw himself at Janus to capture him in a constraining hug. Who was the albino boa constrictor here? 

Not only did Patton smell like vanilla, cinnamon and a taint of chocolate, he was also oven-level of warm. The pillow-like feeling to his embrace would have made anyone sink in like a baby. 

Holy shit. 

If it hadn’t been so sudden Janus would have lost any shred of dignity and poise he’d hope to keep. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous again” Patton disentangled himself from the other, seeing no reciprocation occuring. Maybe he should just change the subject and leave.

That had been horrible. Janus would forever deny the impulse to just melt Patton had so thoughtfully gifted him with. 

“I know Roman isn’t always... the kindest, but he really doesn’t mean it. He’ll change his mind about you eventually. I hope you can forgive each other then”. 

Janus looked at him with intensity. 

“I… need time”. 

“That is okay” he paused, considering. He might as well just take the second cookie. Fingers extended, because crossing them would make it really hard for him to grab the cookie, heh. “I’m not the smartest one, but if you ever need anything, I make really good muffins and always listen. You don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to, you can say you came over because it’s warm”. 

“Only in for white lies. Lacks style, but it might make you slightly tolerable”. 

It was a bit sad to hear. Patton had hoped for a different kind of answer, but if Janus didn’t want to confide in him that couldn’t be forced. He’d have to give him some space and prove his good intentions one little step at a time. 

“Well, this frog is getting back to his pond. I’ll let you get back--” 

“I won’t consider your offer”. 

Oh? 

Oh!

Patton’s face lit up in the brightest of smiles. 

‘Great timing’ thought Janus. So opportune to just keep on nagging him towards a heart-attack. Wonderful.

“Oh, Janus” said Patton, just before he left. 

“What?” he asked, yet again. 

“It is a lovely name”. 

Taglist: 

@girl-with-many-fandoms , @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me  , @snek-snacc , @oddpopsicle , @your-boi-leon  ,  @many-fandoms-trash , @rubixn , @theantisocialghost

[piermanwalter]

Thief’s Apprentice: More on Magic

Things Involving Souls that Aren’t Technically Magic

According to Sidran magic theory, magic is strictly defined as energy from soul dying outside of the body harnessed for telekinesis of a single material. Anything not fulfilling all these criteria is not magic. Other parts of The World have different classifications, but in Veilheim, most people tend to call everything involving the soul leaving the body magic, and those who use more stringent definitions in normal conversation are considered elitist nerds.

Being Alive

Soul is a quantifiable spiritual substance produced by all living things and also some magically altered dead things. It can only stably exist within bodies and objects, but takes up no physical space. Soul needs to die to provide the impetus for beginning every conscious action. Normally, the amount of soul killed is so small and the rate of soul regeneration is so fast that people can do normal things like walk and talk without lasting effects on their soul. But if the mind, body, and soul are out of balance, normal activity can cause debilitating damage, whether by reducing the soul to the point where the bearer loses the will to live, or by bloating the soul until the bearer becomes dangerously overconfident.

This is one reason why powerful living mages often develop terrible and selfish personalities, which I will go into later. Revenants can deal with having gigantic souls because they are dead and the plague has severed the connection between mind, body, and soul, preventing one part from directly affecting the others.

Every living thing on The World is capable of killing their own souls inside their bodies to achieve otherwise impossible things in life-or-death situations, such as driving chemical reactions backwards to avoid drowning. This is much less efficient than magic, because souls are supposed to live and die in bodies. When soul dies in a body like usual, very little energy can be harnessed to perform magic-like functions, and it can only affect the soul’s body. When someone miraculously survives a disaster, but doesn’t have the will to speak afterwards, it is believed they killed own soul to survive. There is much philosophical debate if all negative emotions in the mind are caused by destruction of the soul, or if negative emotions are caused by the mind itself being destroyed.

Scrying, Astral Projection, and Other Forms of Sending Souls

As you may know, revenants sense their surroundings by breaking off tiny pieces of soul and sending them radiating out of their bodies, feeling substances by how their soul fragments die as they travel through them. Although the soul has left the body and died, this is not strictly magic because the resulting energy dissipates and isn’t used for anything. This can also be done by the living, but they typically can’t handle this level of soul destruction without adverse effects.

Souls can pass through anything except other souls, which allows hiding from projection by being in a crowd, a forest, or giant magic item. A soul in its original living body will override any material sensing and other souls will sense it as its own self image. This means very few people look the same in light the same way as they do from soul sensing, and self esteem has an even greater impact on appearance.

This also means revenants see many dogs as green, because the dogs themselves think they are green. Pragmus of Veilheim is a great curiosity to revenants because he was born blind and has no self image. To revenants, Pragmus appears as a void in the shape of a man. Living people with extreme dysmorphia or intentional self delusion can shapeshift from a revenant’s perspective. Do the Ophtha of Surenia truly have blue hair and massive eyes, or is it a result of internalised cultural identity?

Alchemy

When soul dies outside the body, but the energy dissipates without being harnessed, it has very small and unpredictable effects on its surroundings. Although it can be argued that this is a form of telekinesis, the lack of conscious control and one soul’s effect on all substances means by Sidran theory, alchemy is not magic. Normally this goes unnoticed, but during complex chemical reactions, the presence of dying souls changes the proportions of resulting products, sometimes to the point where impossible side reactions occur for seemingly no reason. Some believe this is a similar to what happens when soul dies in its body. It’s still not understood how this happens, but alchemists use it to their advantage.

To have some level of control over chemical reactions, alchemists detach a large piece of soul to chase away small fragments of soul, then return their soul to their bodies. Alchemists can also deliberately introduce soul into reactions to drive it towards rare products.

Although alchemy is well-studied, many untrained people do it unintentionally by yelling at wet paint and oily sauces until things work themselves out. Alchemy also happens as a side effect of soul sending, and anywhere with an extremely high concentration of people soul sending has a lot of weird shit happen, like paper suddenly bursting into flame, or metal rusting at supernatural speed, or caramel producing long strands of carbon fiber. Some people call this Folk Magic, since it only happens when a lot of folks are around. Preventing unpredictable Folk Magic is why alchemists are vital to quality control for any transformative process.

Alchemists can also forcibly use or disenchant magic and religious items by bullying the other souls out of it.

Things that are Magic

Magic is when soul dies outside the body, and the resulting energy is harnessed to greater and more specific results than everything I just talked about. Magic is separated into genres of materials that can be moved by one person.  Each living being can perform a maximum of two magic genres. It still isn’t known why, but many cultures independently developed the theory that the soul is actually composed by two parts, conscious and subconscious, will to act and will to live, central nervous system or peripheral nervous system, human spirit and animal spirit, or whatever you want to call it. One part serves as fuel for higher level thinking and motivation, and the other serves as fuel for simple activities such as breathing or metabolising needed to stay alive. It is believed that each part can separately be killed to produce different genres of magic.

There aren’t strict classifications of magic genres, and a lot of magic genres end up being the same thing at different scales or in different applications. Industrial Magic is fine control of metals, while Doom Magic causes mountains to collapse. Symphonic Magic is fine control of the air to make sounds, while Pirate Magic changes wind direction. People still aren’t sure if Death Magic, control of the dead, and Black Magic, control of soulless products of the living such as hair and dust, are different things.

Magic can only be performed on materials that don’t have soul. Gore Magic is the sole exception. It can only be done on living things containing their own soul. In many cases, magic and alchemy must be combined to purge the soul fragments out of something so it can be moved telekinetically. 

Religion

By Sidran theory, since religion is when many souls inhabit the same magic item, and are killed to grant specific prayers, by definition it is magic. If you say this in other parts of The World, you might get killed.

Channelling  

Channeling is similar to religion or magic items, in that someone else’s soul is being killed and harnessed by a different person to do magic. The key difference is that the other soul is stored in the user’s body for some time before being killed, which grants finer control and more power. Channellers absorb soul fragments from their surroundings to bolster their own will and do magic. Essentially, channelling is magic when the channelled souls are killed for magic, and channelling is not magic when the channelled souls are killed for other purposes.

Although there are established channelling techniques, anyone can do this unintentionally by encouraging and motivating someone, or by instantly leeching the good vibes out of a room whenever they show up. 

The Moon bones, who consume all soul that gets too close to The Moon, are channellers. Revenants are also all technically channellers, but I will get into that later.

Why Aren’t There More Mages?

Given the spectacular power achieved by magic, you’d expect there to be perpetually increasing mage populations, as well as the progressive increase in mage strength over history, but it doesn’t happen because magic has some terrible drawbacks.

Mages typically are humongous assholes because they are expected to burn huge amounts of soul. If moving a giant boulder kills the same amount of soul as finding out your child was murdered, mages often become soul-deprived wrecks and die, or become incredibly callous to tragedy because they feel like this all the time.

Mages also tend to develop all kinds of health problems and mental illnesses, because their minds and bodies are deprived of energy, since too much of it is going to their souls, and also because miraculous reactions from too much soul dying inside the body can warp their bodies to the point where organs start poisoning themselves and conventional medicine stops working. 

To avoid soul deprivation, the most healthy and powerful mages have enormous souls, but this causes other problems. Having a bloated soul, as you know, leads to dangerous overconfidence, but also stubbornness, selfishness, and dedication bordering on insanity. 

Although society benefits greatly from mages, its best that there are only a few of them. Societies ruled by or composed mostly of mages are always extremely violent and unstable, undergoing rapid cycles of expansion, infighting, and collapse. Gehenna knows this and purposefully instigates succession wars whenever a Pontiff dies to ensure the powerfully magical royal family can function as a just and semi-reasonable ruling body during other times.

Once again, revenants don’t usually have these problems because they are dead and and the plague has severed the connection between mind, body, and soul, preventing one part from directly affecting the others. However, if pursuit of magic power becomes a societal goal, things can get just as bad.

The Necromancer’s Unholy Power

As the most powerful mage on The World, The Necromancer is the embodiment of the worst of magic. A violent, power-hungry society enabled him to invent the plague, and its ideals continue to compel him to lord over and exploit other people despite being completely alienated from the new post-plague society. 

All revenants are sustained by The Necromancer’s magic. He constantly radiates countless soul fragments that move all throughout The World and are attracted to plague bacteria. The plague bacteria then act as channellers, using The Necromancer’s soul as fuel to infect people and sever the connection between mind, body, and soul. The plague bacteria sustain the plaguebearer’s mind, letting the body rot and soul grow enormous. 

You can think of The Necromancer as an internet service provider, his soul fragments as WiFi, and the plague bacteria as modems. You can also think of vampirism as stealing WiFi.

After 700 years of soul sending, all of The World is blanketed in a thick miasma of The Necromancer’s soul fragments. This revived The Moon bones, and skewed chemical reactions everywhere to the point where many techniques developed before the plague don’t work without alchemy. Without knowing, he also raised the boiling and melting point of water by a few degrees, causing huge ice freezes even at high temperatures, and refuses to let carbonic acid form in the air in any circumstances. 

Much of North Beringia is covered by ice, partially because The World is cold to begin with, partially because mass plague death decreased human wood and coal burning, and also because underground revenants attract The Necromancer’s soul fragments. Vast lifeless fields of ice in impossibly warm weather is a sign that revenants will burst from the ground soon.

The more proud of his experiments, the bigger his soul gets, and the bigger his soul gets, the more experiments he can do. The Necromancer would be unstoppable if he wasn’t an easily impressed diva.

[deliciousscaloppine]

I came across this post, so I thought to make some comments - posted this way for the sake of brevity because it’s a very very long post with the following discourse as it came to me. 

The following screenshot is just a tiny segment, but I am sure a lot of you have faced this problem, or a similar one, where people might select your more “safe” works and i don’t mean works without sex, and reject pieces you might consider very well done, or more indicative of writing skill.

So in the following, I will endeavour to expose some of the psychology of reading + some basic principles you should keep in mind when writing. These are not rules, or recipes, or restrictions, but more of things to take in mind when preparing a text for circulation.

 You should already know by the wording of this post, that most people in boards, committees, institutions, publishing houses, professional writer agencies etc, evaluate you as a reader and not as a writer. 

That is why you often hear that as a writer, you should read a lot. Not just to hone your craft and be aware of where you belong in writing history, which is very useful in finding where to send your writing, but also because most people who choose things to be published only experience them through reading and not through the effort and technical skill that it takes to produce them.

So as a rule for very small contests, journals etc  reading your material, you must not employ stylistic particularities that might make your work unreadable to inexperienced readers. That is a major fuck you to poets, because I can’t see how you can construct a powerful poem without extensive linguistic nuance, or at the very least, word play that creates emotional resonances.

More bad news on this, is that a very strong emotional response can be deemed by the reader as an act of manipulation on the writer’s part. Or they might have the reader DOUBT their judgement. “Basically I felt things, I am compromised, and I cannot make rational decisions. And since being on a board is all about advancing your career and or safeguarding your prospects, judging things based on feeling is seen as disagreeable for these kinds of people.

Even worse, a very powerful text that does not know how to release tension, might make a reader feel vulnerable. And vulnerable readers might even become hostile to sharing your work with others because of how it affected them and for fear that it might reveal something of them to others, or more importantly because it might not be received well by these others and so upset a certain social order within a group. 

This is why politically sensitive issues get the short end of the stick when it comes to publishing, and why even though there might be a demand for content that deviates from mainstream stuff, there is no cohesive audience to support actual authorial diversity. 

You must also know that people who are visually impaired, or are fatigued, or have dyslexia or ADHD might be on this board or anywhere where they assess writing, so when they read a lot of things, their ability to engage with them in depth is GRADUALLY MINIMIZED. 

But that is not a bad thing, because you should be a conscientious writer, you should write in a way that is accessible by most people. That is the better writing on many levels, and you should develop this skill because it will also help you with editing your works with more ease.

So in summation the general audience also evaluates you as a reader. Only the reading experience matters to them, and you should strive to make it as seamless..and as “painless” as possible.

THE BASIC PRINCIPLES 

Writing something and managing the reader’s experience are two different things. Figure out what you want to write and then analyze what kind of language, voices and structure you need to develop in order to convey the general meaning of your work, but also how to relay it in a tone that will not agitate needlessly the reader.

This is a lot of work, especially for poems and short stories and it may be omitted if you are feeling inspired. But for anything longer than 10K doing this groundwork will save you a lot of trouble later. It will make your writing succinct and to the point.

Reading takes a lot of time, the reader does not want to feel cheated; basically that they spent time with you that it could have been better spent elsewhere. 

To avoid this, it is YOU who must set the expectations of the reader and then fulfill them In Your Own Terms. You are driving the story, you are controlling to what the reader is exposed or not, for how long and to what end, so do not omit units of meaning that you might think are self-evident, and of course don’t just dump them in the work, pace them and pace the reader along with them. Be very sensitive and masterful when dealing with difficult issues, shed light on them, rather than just use them for sensationalism because that can and will turn the reader against you.

In a very rich thematic work, the reader will generate meaning for themselves that you might have not foreseen or intended, but THAT IS AN ADDED BONUS to your work, and not what will happen naturally in the reader’s mind. So intent and purpose are of the essence. 

No one is asking you to write a cozy little “moral of the story”, and of course your purpose should not be limiting in the perspectives you explore through your work, or the amount and depth of issues you want to address. 

A clear purpose, however, is the solid scaffolding with which you build your story. It’s a place for you to stand and oversee and manage all the other elements. 

In order to create meaning you have to develop one or more themes and for this you have to create certainties to the reader by use of repetition. Repetition means a single event that is treated differently by two or more sets of characters - or voices when it comes to poetry. It also means two characters who are alike but face different circumstances, or a single character who comes across the same events and people in their journey, or even a character that comes across a wide and nuanced world, but behaves the same from start to finish. Basically anchors, starting points, predictable systems by which the reader will learn to evaluate everything that happens in the world of the story.

Of course repetition should be subverted, that is what generates meaning in the end. For the subversion to be meaningful the voices or the characters of your work must be thoroughly explained, and for this you must not resist definition. Explain the circumstance of the character through a backstory, through dialogue, through their interaction with the world of your work and other characters, and in this also define who the reader is and who you as the narrator of the story are.  

You should always define clearly who you are and whom you are addressing. The more nuanced the definition, the more succinct and universal the work becomes, and if there should be political reasons for your work to be rejected, this definition is also your first line of defense, a way to fight for this work so that it will gain readership and recognition. 

This type of honesty and directness is what in the end manages to earn the reader and their emotional responses by degrees and in their own time. So you are not cheating, or manipulating anyone, you are giving them the necessary space to enter the reality of the work and the natural time to be affected by it. 

The reader needs and seeks that sense of intimacy and privateness in which they can unfold the parts of them that connect with your story or poem. 

There are readers who need everything and everyone to be relatable to them, and they are not very good readers, but you will earn them by catering to them often. 

BUT more importantly there are readers who just love being exposed to new things, concepts and voices, and by defining your story on as many levels as you can you will for sure have them at your side because they will want to discover as much of you and your work as they possibly can. 

DEALING WITH REJECTION

Now if you do get rejected A) Don’t feel bad. 

Most people in boards, or any other institution that judges writing might have some knowledge of literary history, and theoretical analysis, but they have jack shit knowledge of how to write. This is a marketable skill. People who have it get paid to exercise it in multiple fields, they don’t need to be on boards. 

So from the view of the people who rejected you, you are already doing better than them because you sat down, wrote something, and deemed it good enough to circulate. If only they had your confidence and work ethic. 

However, for a writer to reach their full potential and to generate their best writing, AN AUDIENCE is VITAL. And whatever board is between you and that audience, it is a group of people hostile not only to you, but the craft of writing in general - so you have 0 things to gain from them, or very little, as much as they are willing to give you. 

Think on the fact that these people are not meeting any of the people who are sending things to them. They are not engaging them further than consuming and evaluating their “content”, and it’s only valuable to them as that: “content”, not an artistic experience and certainly not as a point of discussion. 

Real writing happens after a long string of revisions, usually prompted by discussions and exchanges with other writers, friends, relatives, anyone really who will be exposed to your writing and will want to “chip in”. Real art in general is communal and shaped by many people, so do not be afraid to reach out to people, any people and listen to their many and varied voices. Even you do not agree with them, or don’t want to take their directions, you will have gained intimate knowledge to how the reader’s mind works, for the things it searches when it enters your text, and that will make you a more perceptive writer in the future.

If you observe that these people are reluctant to offer you feedback understand and internalize that there is something technically wrong in your text that is making it inaccessible to them. They will not be able to explain this to you, and immature writers won’t immediately notice it, because your brain will automatically fill in the blanks of your writing, so you will have a better view to your story than the reader AND THAT IS A PROBLEM. A problem you fix by loads of work. 

You should always ask yourself if you are forgetting to give vital information to the reader, or if it’s too obscure for the reader to access, or if it is so focused on a particular type of reader and blocks everyone else - sometimes genres have structures that might be not comprehensible to readers who do not follow them. More universal works explain everything, they even explain why the sky is blue, and that makes them more accessible to everyone.

B) Do not be afraid you will be blacklisted if you challenge rejection.

You have already been blacklisted. When people start nitpicking it’s you they don’t like, and if they knew anything of writing they wouldn’t leave you in the dark, they would tell you what’s wrong and want you to do better if your problem is really a punctuation mark, a break line, or an odd sentence structure, and ask you to resubmit with unreserved enthusiasm after minimal revisions.

There is also some very intense hawking on minority writers currently, basically they will use you for bonus points, but not if your reality starts  contradicting their own, or does not fit the image they have of you. 

Often they might try to soothe animosities by creating workshops, or offering mentorship sessions from which you might get one or two things published. Do Not Fall For This. If you have an uncompromising voice and as a writer you probably do, It Leads Nowhere. You will have to pretend you are at a lower level to please these people, and if they have some particular knowledge they will not give it easily to you, more often than not they know nothing and are where they are through networking, if they discern any real talent in you they are already seeing you as a threat and that goes specifically for prolific writers, writers who churn things very easily and with some polishing these things could be very marketable.

If you are noticing a pattern of rejections and you know it is an unfair rejection, send a letter, make a public plea for your case. A polite one, asking to learn under which criteria your work was judged, and if there are revisions you can make so that you may submit it again. 

When you begin challenging people you will discern a pattern a) they did not pay attention to your work, b) they really have no criteria other than vibes, so maybe it’s time for you to seek the other rejected writers. Social media is great for this, and it’s great for gaining an audience. Work it. Ask people who got rejected at a competition or a journal to publish their rejected works. Make a top ten, organize a forum online or in your tiny city. Print a zine. Be cheeky, invite the people who rejected you, tag them. Create some havoc, generate interest, find out who is funding or subsidizing these events and make complaints of unfair treatment. 

Your goal is to get an audience, to circulate your material, and hone your craft by the comments you receive so it will be marketable in the future. Do not  get stuck in acquiring some fickle frenemies on some board, or other institution.

For the pacifists among us:

If you want to submit again and you are not sure if they allow it, don’t even ask, change a few things and submit it anyway because a) they might not even realize b) people in these boards change with time and you can try again no one will notice. No one is observing you, we are too many and too overworked here to remember anything, take advantage of the collective amnesia. Submit it as many times as they take submissions, getting on people’s nerves is very effective. People are constantly wondering if they are the asshole in an interaction, take advantage of this too, affirm it to them that they are in fact the asshole without engaging in an argument with them.

[revlyncox]

Origin Stories 2020

The stories we tell about our past affect the way we view the present and orient toward the future. This is true about the myth of Thanksgiving, stories we tell about  Ethical Culture's past, stories we tell about our individual journeys, and more. When we recognize the impact of origin stories, we can be intentional about how we tell them in the future and how they guide us to bring out the best. 

This Platform Address was written for the Washington Ethical Society by Lyn Cox, November 29, 2020. 

Has anyone seen the movie, Captain Marvel? You know I did. Back when going to movie theatres was a safe thing to do, I saw it in the theater. The nostalgia for the music of the mid-1990’s alone was enough to catch my interest. I don’t want to spoil it for those who are waiting for a quiet evening to watch it at home, so I’ll try to speak in general terms.

The movie opens with an interstellar super soldier named Vers, who is having trouble with memory, but nevertheless goes out on a mission with her team, part of the Kree empire. Throughout the movie, she learns more about where she comes from, and more about the origins of the conflict with the people she thought were her enemies. Once she has come around to a different understanding of who her people are, the personal qualities she has been criticized for are reframed, and she can draw from them as strengths. This revised worldview moves her to an entirely different sense of her mission in life, as well as a different sense of connecting and belonging.

The paradigm shift that the main character goes through in Captain Marvel reminds me of the power of origin stories. The stories we tell ourselves about ourselves--as individuals, communities, and countries--affect how we reach out to others and what we think we’re capable of. As we reflect on this holiday weekend, we’re confronted with one version of the origin story of the United States, the one some of us were presented with as children at this time of year. That version of the story is infused with myths and half-truths, and depends on the erasure of the historical and contemporary perspectives of Native Americans, among other groups of people. Whether we are dismantling the settler-colonial narrative, incorporating new insights into our understanding of ourselves as a community, or finding personal empowerment in reframing our individual origin stories, returning to the stories about beginnings or turning points with open minds can help us reshape our future.

Whether we are speaking individually or collectively, origin stories matter. Events get baked into information we regard as fact, or perhaps legend. Left unexamined, these stories can divide people who need not be divided and disempower people who could be living fruitful, generous lives. It matters how we tell those stories. The inclusion of truths or half-truths, and which facts are emphasized or glossed over has an impact. In communal stories, whose perspective is centered makes a difference.The way we understand the narrative structure of the story is also a choice. The good news is that stories can be reframed, even within the bounds of verifiable facts. Origins are not destinies. We can rearrange the emphasis, lift up silenced voices, and find strengths that had previously been minimized. That’s what we’re talking about today. With regard to both individual and collective narratives, (1) Origin stories matter, (2) the way we tell origins stories matters, and (3) stories can be reframed.

Origin Stories Matter

Earlier, we heard an excerpt from a talk by Emily Esfahani Smith. She has done interviews and followed studies in positive psychology, first asking the question about what makes people happy, then shifting to the question of what helps people live meaningful lives. She said, “Creating a narrative from the events of your life brings clarity. It helps you understand how you became you.”

In her review of the available research (excerpt from her book on the TED talk website), she found that the stories people tell about the pivotal events of their lives can affect how they feel about themselves, their level of confidence or anxiety, and what behaviors they choose in the future as they subconsciously live by their stories. I’d like to add a caveat that not everything in our personal narratives is about perspective or attitude; sometimes a person’s anxiety or adaptive behaviors are shaped by oppression, trauma, or other circumstances. Even so, examining our lives for the agency and resilience that we do have gives us some extra tools and is worth a try.

When you add humans together to tell a collective story about the turning points of a community or a movement or a country, origin stories can have an even wider impact. Last month, I drew from An Indigenous People’s History of the United States by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz when we discussed Christopher Columbus. In the introduction to her book, in reference to Thanksgiving, Dunbar-Ortiz wrote:

Origin narratives form the vital core of a people’s unifying identity and of the values that guide them. In the United States, the founding and development of the Anglo-American settler-state involves a narrative about Puritan settlers who had a covenant with God to take the land.

Then, in chapter three, Dunbar-Oritz picks up this thread again:

The United States is not unique among nations in forging an origin myth, but most of its citizens believe it to be exceptional among nation-states, and this exceptionalist ideology has been used to justify appropriation of the continent and then domination of the rest of the world.

In other words, Dunbar-Ortiz credits the mythological version of the Thanksgiving story, a particular version of the origin story of the United States, with fueling some of the worst behaviors of the United States and many of its citizens. A story that was framed to make heroes out of the Pilgrims and inspire patriotism has also inspired exploitation, theft, and violence.

Dunbar-Ortiz is not alone in this observation. James W. Loewen, in Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American history Textbook Got Wrong, also unpacks the Thanksgiving story as an origin myth with devastating consequences.

Loewen says that, in the cases where the Thanksgiving holiday is observed without examination or critique, “the civil ritual” marginalizes Native Americans. That marginalization comes not only from perspective or emphasis, but from actual falsehoods that are re-told in mythic versions of the story. These false myths serve to reinforce what Loewen calls white “ethnocentrism.” He says that when textbooks promote this version of the story, they diminish the capacity of students to understand the culture they are in or how to relate to each other.

At the time of his original writing, the term white supremacy culture was not as widely in use as it is now, but it is apt in this case. The outdated version of the Thanksgiving story idolized the colonizers and erased the humanity of the Indigenous people they encountered. This is both a manifestation of and fuel for white supremacy culture.

We’re finding that, just as our personal origin stories can lead us to make choices so that we live by those stories, national origin stories guide our future behavior. Origin stories matter.

How We Tell Origin Stories Matters

Now that we’ve established that personal and collective origin stories can have an impact on our self-concept and our future choices, let’s talk about how we tell those stories. We have choices in the perspectives and events we emphasize, and in the shape of the narrative arc.

Earlier, we heard a passage from A People’s History of the United States: 1492-Present by Howard Zinn, in which he draws an analogy between historians and mapmakers. Zinn is more generous toward mapmakers or cartographers than I would be, saying that the choices about what projections to use or what details to include in a map are mainly technical. I think maps are much more political than he implies in this comparison, but the point stands that both historians and cartographers have to make choices in conveying information. It is incumbent upon us to examine our purpose in making those choices, and to think about the impact of those choices. How we tell the story matters.

This is where the collective storytelling and the personal storytelling intersect. As we are figuring out how to tell our personal stories, we’re also trying to figure out how we fit into the larger picture. When we are not truthful in our collective stories, we make this task of fitting into the larger story much more difficult for everyone, especially those who have been marginalized. If we have the privilege and responsibility of telling a collective story, we should try to ensure that all of the people in that story are reflected as their whole selves. Incorporating multiple perspectives into our stories makes it easier for the community and for individuals to understand ourselves and to find meaning and purpose.  

My colleague Jone Johnson Lewis from the Riverdale Yonkers Society for Ethical Culture has demonstrated this beautifully in her research about the history and historiography of the Reconstruction era. She notes that narratives of the Civil War and the Reconstruction period that were taught in school for decades do not match the evidence. (Here’s her August 2 Platform Address as a guest at the New York Society.)

Starting in the 1920s, professional historians who were collectively known as the Dunning School were training school teachers to talk about the Civil War as a matter of “states rights,” despite the fact that all of the documents about secession referred to slavery, and the founding of the Confederacy did not allow states to have the right to opt out of slavery. This tradition referred to Reconstruction as a disaster, a burden placed on the South (meaning the white landowners of the South) by opportunistic northerners. The Dunning School presented an egregious misrepresentation of the facts of Reconstruction, and was part of perpetuating the idea that African American people were not capable of self-determination. This view lent support to voter suppression tactics such as literacy tests, and fed racist white resentment that is still an active force in politics today.

The deliberate revisions of the Dunning School were partly the work of David Saville Muzzey. Muzzey was not only a professor of history, but also an Ethical Culture leader. Muzzey wrote a history textbook that was heavily in use from 1927 to 1938, and was source material for textbooks for at least another generation. If we’re going to note the successes of Ethical Culturists throughout history in promoting justice, we also have to examine the ways that Ethical Culturists supported white supremacy culture. By learning from the mistakes of our kindred in the past, we can help prevent ourselves and our successors from repeating them.

According to Jone Johnson Lewis, part of Muzzey’s goal was to tell the story of the United States as a gradually unfolding arc of human rights. Acknowledging the initial flowering of human rights and democracy immediately after the Civil War--before the backlash against Reconstruction led to voter suppression, Jim Crow laws, and the great nadir of civil rights--didn’t work for Muzzey. Being honest about the steps forward and then backward did not match the shape of the gradual arc Muzzey was trying to fit history into, and did not comport with Muzzey’s racist views about what African American leaders and thinkers were capable of. He rejected evidence that did not fit his hypothesis, and because of that, generations of students were taught a false history of the Civil War and Reconstruction.

There are a couple of things we can learn here. We can learn that impact matters more than intention. We learn that stories about a community or culture should include the perspectives of all of the groups in that community or culture. Primary sources from the people who are most deeply affected are important in lifting up a complete history. In our local communities, we should be asking whose voices are missing.

As a point relevant to both collective origin stories and personal origin stories, sometimes the truth that is most important to tell does not follow a smooth narrative arc. Neither our individual lives nor our shared history necessarily follows a three-act structure or a linear path. History does not always make narrative sense even if the events follow a logical sequence of cause and effect. Trying to force our personal or shared history to follow a straight line might lead us to cut off important branches of truth.

Anthropologist Mary Catherine Bateson wrote about how this affects our personal stories in her 1989 book, Composing a Life. (Here’s Bateson in an episode of On Being with Krista Tippett.) She wrote that how we grow and change is less like building a linear brick wall and more like improvisational cooking or quilting, putting a life together with the bits and pieces we have in the time available. Noting that people who have been marginalized don’t have the luxury of being able to hold a singular focus, Bateson said that a non-linear art of living has equal dignity and grace.

How we tell our stories matters. It matters that we include truth. It matters when we include multiple perspectives in a collective story. It matters that we allow our stories to take their natural twists and turns. When it comes to our personal stories, we need not be ashamed when our journeys don’t follow a simple or well-recognized path. Meaning can arise from growth and learning, and we don’t always arrive at growth and learning by the direct route. Realizing that stories need not be linear helps to remind us that it’s not over until it’s over - we are not bound to keep going in what is now the wrong direction. Make some room. How we tell our stories matters.

Stories Can Be Reframed

A corollary to the idea that we can choose how to tell our origin stories is that, at any time, we can choose to reframe those stories. We are not stuck with narratives that are inauthentic. We can emphasize different events and different voices to help us figure out a path for the future.

Taking the myth of Thanksgiving as an example, if we are going to treat it as an origin story for the United States, we can reframe that story by correcting falsehoods and expanding the sources we consult.

In 1970, the Massachusetts Department of Commerce asked the Wampanoag People to select a speaker for a Thanksgiving event to mark the 350th anniversary of the English arrival at Plymouth Rock. Frank James, also known as Wamsutta, had to show the event planners what he had written. The organizers did not allow him to read it, and offered him a different speech, which he refused to read. Instead, Frank James gave his original speech on Cole’s Hill, next to the statue of former Wampanoag leader Ousamequin, to a crowd of supporters. This became the first Day of Mourning, now an annual event of the United American Indians of New England. It was a turning point in the Native American movement in the United States.

James’ speech included this acknowledgement of history:

It is with mixed emotion that I stand here to share my thoughts. This is a time of celebration for you - celebrating an anniversary of a beginning for the white man in America. A time of looking back, of reflection. It is with a heavy heart that I look back upon what happened to my People.

Even before the Pilgrims landed it was common practice for explorers to capture Indians, take them to Europe and sell them as slaves for 220 shillings apiece. The Pilgrims had hardly explored the shores of Cape Cod for four days before they had robbed the graves of my ancestors and stolen their corn and beans.

James goes on from there, addressing more of the history of oppression against Native Americans, the way history was being taught in American schools, and the continued persistence and resilience of the Wampanoag and other Indigenous people.

Remembering that the English colonizers who arrived at Plymouth Rock were not innocent or peaceful, remembering that they committed theft and violence on the original inhabitants of the land both before and after the event that is remembered as the First Thanksgiving, means that we can no longer base a national identity on trying to emulate this origin story. It means we can’t pretend ignorance and wonder where it all went wrong when we look at the atrocities committed in the name of the United States in the intervening 400 years. But it also means we have a choice about what to do differently. We can commit to not repeating the past. We can learn to tell our stories differently. The history of Frank James and the first Day of Mourning is incorporated in materials for the 400th anniversary of the landing at Plymouth Rock. An origin is not a destiny.

Collectively, we are the authors of the future of our communities and our nation. Individually, as Emily Esfahani Smith reminds us, we are the authors of our own stories. As we heard earlier, “Your life isn’t just a list of events. You can edit, interpret, and re-tell your story, even as you are constrained by the facts.”

Just as with the process of updating our collective stories, reframing our personal stories may be hard, even painful. We will have to face uncomfortable truths. Yet out of those truths, we may find an ability to learn and grow, a sense of meaning and purpose, and capacity for acceptance and compassion that comes from whole-hearted experience. By changing the emphasis of our stories, we may find a call to service, or a desire to make amends, or a sense of connection with those who share a similar experience. The power to reframe our stories is in our hands.

Conclusion

The stories of our beginnings as individuals, as communities, and as a nation have power. They can move us toward compassion and connection, or they can move us toward division and disrespect. But that power is not absolute. We can take responsibility for comparing those stories with the available evidence, and for examining the story from a variety of perspectives. We can reframe a story as we learn from both mistakes and successes, seeking purpose amidst the patchwork of love and care that sustains the best in us and in those around us. May it be so for each and all.

[skyguyed]

the normalization of abusive behavior in reylo

for those wondering why some people are calling reylo an abusive ship, below the divide are examples and explanations from The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi where Kylo Ren displays abusive behavior towards Rey.

This is important because abusive/toxic actions in fiction are often normalized to the point where viewers may not notice abusive behaviors as red flags, or may grow to see abusive behavior as normal, even romantic (or valid precursors to romance).

This post will also discuss the role of fictional portrayals in shaping reality, and why I believe supporting reylo means normalizing abuse.

Thank you in advance for your time and energy to read this. 

The purpose of this post 

This post (essay, really, it’s gotten pretty long) will examine every interaction between Rey and Kylo Ren, and will point out where and how abuse occurs in this relationship. I will also discuss why this matters.

This post is not meant to police anyone or insult, nor is it meant to incite disrespectful arguments. It is not a call for censorship. The purpose of this post is to help unaware reylo shippers understand where and why reylo is abusive, to help fans recognize abusive behavior, to assess the relationship between fiction and reality, and to discuss why I believe supporting reylo means normalizing abuse.

Trigger warnings for mentions, descriptions, and discussions of violence, domestic violence, abuse, and rape.

Legal definition of abuse:

According to the judicial branch of California,

The domestic violence laws say “abuse” is:

Physically hurting or trying to hurt someone intentionally or recklessly;

Sexual assault;

Making someone reasonably afraid that he or she or someone else is about to be seriously hurt (like threats or promises to harm someone); OR

Behavior like harassing, stalking, threatening, or hitting someone, disturbing someone’s peace, or destroying someone’s personal property).

Read more about Domestic Violence.

What abusive behavior does reylo display?

Kylo Ren exhibits these types of abusive behaviors towards Rey (timestamps indicated when appropriate):

Immobilizing her 

Using the Force in the forest on Takodana (TFA, 1:17:32)

With physical restraints in First Order custody (TFA, 1:25:40)

Threatening her with a weapon 

With light saber, while she’s immobilized by him (TFA, 1:18:00)

Stalking her

“You still want to kill me.” “That happens why you’re being hunted by a creature in a mask.” (TFA, 1:26:08)

Putting down her friends

“Where are the others?” “You mean the murderers, traitors, and thieves you call friends?” (TFA, 1:25:57)

Kylo Ren called Rey’s parents “filthy junk traders” (TLJ 1:48)

Hurting her friends: Finn, mortally (TFA, 1:54:42)

Not to mention killing his father Han in front of her, who had become someone she trusted.

Entering her (mind) without permission (confirmed by JJ Abrams as an intentional rape parallel in a Facebook post to Daniel Fleetwood, since deleted/made private - see summary here)

This happened twice- once on Takodana when he had her immobilized (TFA, 1:18:12), and then again in First Order custody: “You know I can take whatever I want.” (TFA, 1:27:00) despite her tears, fear, and obvious discomfort and protests

Threatening to expose her secrets (where is BB-8 and the map to Luke Skywalker)

Attacking her with a weapon

Also using the force to attack her (multiple times)

Rendering her unconscious (real world equivalent: drugging or physical violence)

First on Takodana with the Force, (TFA 1:13:32), then on Starkiller Base, by launching her into a tree (TFA 1:51:24)

Trying to manipulate her (into joining the Dark Side)

Snoke may have initiated their force bond, but as soon as Kylo realized what it was, he started using it to make Rey sympathize with him

Kylo Ren feeds Rey only part of his side of the story, painting himself as a victim (leaving out how he slaughtered/turned the other students, and what he did to concern Luke in the first place [re: the “darkness rising in him,” TLJ 1:00:33])

Gaslighting and verbal abuse: “You have no place in this story. You come from nothing. You’re nothing... but not to me.”

“Your parents threw you away like garbage. You can’t stop needing them.” (TLJ 1:12:02) He hangs this over her head, again at TLJ 1:31. And “the truth” at 1:48.

Kylo also literally abducts Rey after knocking her out, although that isn’t on the cited list. And he frames her for murdering Snoke after she wouldn’t join him, which puts a huge target on her back. And um, tries to actually kill her (“BLOW THE PIECE OF JUNK -- OUT OF THE SKY!”)

Kylo’s own manipulation, abuse, and gaslighting by Snoke do not excuse his treatment of Rey. (Finn was abused and brainwashed, too. And he chose to turn better.)

Here are resources for abuse victims. 

Why the interrogation scene has clear rape parallels

This is not meant to cheapen or lessen the trauma faced by physical rape/assault victims. I understand that this comparison is upsetting to some people because, since it is presented on-screen as a parallel, it could be argued as much less severe or even be seen as trivializing the plight of real-life victims. I’m not trying to speak for all abuse victims when I say this, but as a person who has experienced sexual violation, I can’t help but see a clear parallel here. 

The interaction is highly invasive. Rey is terrified and protests when she is able to. Kylo Ren tells her shit like not to be afraid, etc. (which sounds like stuff abusers say). She tells him to stop (1:27:39) “Get out of my head” and still he proceeds, ignoring verbal and physical protests. This is not a healthy dynamic, and shouldn’t be portrayed as romantic, or as a prucursor to romance. It’s clearly violating, and it’s triggering to a lot of fans.

When we do not acknowledge this scene as a nonconsensual psychological invasion of a person, I believe we are glossing over an extremely vital dynamic in this relationship. The fact that Kylo says to Rey, “I can take whatever I want,” shows an entitlement to her mind and body that he doesn’t deserve, an attitude shared by many abusers. It creates a power difference that forces Rey to fight back to regain control from him. I’ve seen people argue that he was “gentle” but gentle violation is still violation.

But they’re at war.

This really doesn’t excuse Kylo’s actions towards Rey, sorry. And even if they are at war, this kind of behavior he’s exibited towards her thus far does not make a good foundation for a healthy relationship. That trauma, those offenses will still be there.  

Also, if they’re at war, Rey has every reason to fight back, so saying that “Rey abused Kylo Ren back” when he’s the perpetrator is a flimsy argument. Her ability to “kick his ass” does not make her immune to abuse. It also shifts the blame for Kylo’s mistreatment from him, to her, which is vastly unfair, echoing the victim-blaming sentiment that’s pervasive in our own reality, that real victims face.

Why do we care if Reylo is abusive? It’s just fiction.

We should care that Reylo is abusive because fiction reflects and influences reality. This TED Talk discusses how fiction changes people by increasing empathy, and changes a person’s point of view. Fiction is powerful in shaping a person’s actions. Reading fiction helps readers navigate a real social world. Additionally, fiction can spark public dialogue and raise attention to real-world issues. Reading fiction has been associated with an increase in charitable giving and voting (x).

Here are some examples of fiction influencing reality:

Uncle Tom’s Cabin (1852) was the first major US novel with a Black main character, and it “ opened reader’s eyes to the realities of slavery and the humanity of enslaved people.” “Stowe’s candor on the controversial subject of slavery encouraged others to speak out, further eroding the already precarious relations between northern and southern states and advancing the nation’s march toward Civil War.” (x) Conversely, in modern times, it has helped popularize harmful antiquated stereotypes of Black people (x).

Joe Biden attributed historic changes in American views of homosexuality to Will and Grace (1998), which influenced American views on LGBT rights and helped open the door to more programs with LGBT leads. 

Fifty Shades of Grey (2011) popularized BDSM and caused a spike in reported sex-related injuries, and has been accused of perpetuating dangerous abuse standards. A 2014 study showed correlation between the novel’s readers and eating disorders, abusive relationships, and binge drinking. 

Star Trek has been vastly influential. Astronaut Mae Jemison (the first Black woman in space) was inspired by Lt. Uhura. The show featured American TV’s first interracial on-screen kiss. Steve Wozniak cited Star Trek as an influence for co-founding Apple (x). Star Trek has encouraged many people to pursue a career in science (x).

Jaws (1974) caused beach attendance to fall the following summer, sparked an increase in shark trophy hunting, and demonized sharks in the public eye. (However, shark research received more funding.)

Six in ten Americans get their HIV/AIDS information from the media (x). Musicals like Rent (1993) helped humanize people living with HIV/AIDS, as well as LGBT people. Rent has also been cited as helping encourage LGBT people to come out.

The Turner Diaries (1978) is a novel cited by white supremacists.

Lolita’s (1955) sexualization of a 12-year-old girl has impact on modern celebrities wardrobe choices and image.

Black Beauty (1877) caused the bearing rein to be banned in Victorian England and inspired animal welfare activists.

Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle (1906) portrayed harsh working conditions for immigrants in industrial areas, and raised awareness and produced public outcry which directly led to the passing of the Meat Inspection Act and the Pure Food and Drug Act, both in 1906.

After the release of 13 Reasons Why (2017), schools saw an increase in student self harm and suicides, and related internet searches. 

Psychologist Raymond Mar writes, “Researchers have repeatedly found that reader attitudes shift to become more congruent with the ideas expressed in a [fiction] narrative.” “For example,if we watch a TV program showing a sexual encounter gone wrong, our own sexual ethics will change... If, however, the show displays a positive sexual encounter, our own sexual attitudes will move towards the permissive end of the spectrum.”  (x pg 150)

In one study, 19% of respondents said that after finishing a work, a character’s voice stayed with them, influencing the tone of their thoughts (x).

More resources:

100 stories that changed the world

The power of fake gay (and black) friends: We form judgements about characters the same way we form judgements about people.

Readers may change their beliefs and thoughts to match a fictional character’s

The importance of framing in relationship portrayal, an essay by an abuse victim. This essay is very long but it is a must-read. It also touches on the fact that the power of fiction is more than just having fun and our experiences shape how we interpret media.

Abduction as Romance - a harmful trope where the abductor is framed as “a decent guy” at the end. (20-min video, well worth the watch.) Danger is portrayed as a sexy trait, while the disempowerment of women is fetishized. The video also comments on how often white guys get away with it, while men of color don’t. Also, see commentary at the end of the video about what real redemption means.

Yeah, but how does supporting reylo influence reality?

Supporting Reylo means that we’re giving credibility and validity to violence at the beginning of a romance. It’s like saying to a child who got pushed by another on the playground, “oh, they’re bullying you because they have a crush on you.” It’s promoting a fundamental entitlement and disrespect. 

Impressionable young people seeing this abuse treated as a desirable dynamic, as conditions that could lead to romance, are being primed to accept this or even emulate this in their own relationships. When we see this treated as acceptable in fiction, we are primed to see this as acceptable in reality.

Why not promote healthier dynamics? Why not rehearse the rejection of abusive behavior? 

 A look at canon

So, let’s not forget, that in canon, Rey and Kylo Ren are not in a relationship. So, some say, that means it’s impossible for this to be abuse. However, by suggesting that these characters should be in a relationship is harmful because it romanticizes rocky starts to relationships, and physically violent starts to relationships. 

More reasons why Kylo Ren is dangerous

While Kylo Ren has been shown in canon to be able to freeze or immobilize people, instead he mortally wounds Finn, who is clearly Rey’s friend and defender, in order to intimidate her and overpower her.

Not to mention that throughout the film, he displays characteristics of an abuser, such as violence towards others, (uh, murder), destruction of property, and other characteristics. It may be argued that these outbursts are symptoms of mental illness. It may also be argued that Kylo Ren is a victim of abuse himself, by Snoke. However, none of this excuses his shitty behavior. Being mentally ill or also an abuse victim does not grant one a free pass to act abusive towards others. 

Kylo Ren also tortures and invades and abuses Poe Dameron. Thank god I haven’t seen anyone shipping them. Kylo Ren is an abuser, y’all. 

Oh and one more thing? Kylo Ren never uses Rey’s name in the TFA; he doesn’t see her as a person, just an object to overpower, an obstacle to beat down. He doesn’t use her name until The Last Jedi, when he begins to try to manipulate her, rather than indimidate her with force alone. Then she becomes a tool to him. Clearly he still doesn’t value her as a whole person. Again, not romantic. Dangerous and toxic.

Why I’m still against Reylo even if Kylo is redeemed

It’s not a woman’s responsibility to “fix a damaged man.” (It’s not anyone’s responsibility to use romance to “fix” anyone, actually. Romance is not a cure for abuse.) The burden of redemption should be on the villain alone. Kylo had plenty of opportunities to accept help. Additionally, we shouldn’t support abusive behavior as a start or precursor to romance, because that’s a really harmful message to send. And, previous acts of violence are the biggest predictors of future violence, so I’m wary of them entering a relationship without significant amounts of therapy and reform on Kylo’s part.

What do we do from here?

Don’t support Reylo. That’s it. No conditionals. No “well if they change” no “well they’re fictional so they can be written differently” no AUs, no. Please don’t promote a relationship that is based in abuse. 

I’m not saying we need to sanitize our fiction of abuse or of abusive relationships. That’s not going to make them go away in real life. I’m not trying to censor or silence anything. I’m trying to make sure that abusive relationships are CLEARLY FRAMED as abusive, and not promoted, normalized, or glorified in any way. (See my previous post discussing this.)

Have fun, but understand that fiction is powerful and influential, and it’s our responsibility to engage with it in a way that supports healthy relationships.

[deathghost8]

Harm reduction script essay compiled

1- “TLDR” (I wrote the book that will save the world)

2- ancap math 101 : Purchasers and fulfillers

3- #MATH politics : Harm reduction education platform overview

1 Innovation: Viable Tech in a social organism)

(I wrote the book on saving this social organism, it is 3 pages long.)

Pages 1️⃣2️⃣3️⃣

1️⃣ • Social order is a circle. []

our agreement of what is valued is : that which flows back into the organism, if it does not, we cannot place value on it -

Look, What goes out is our waste: Poop. 💩What flows in and circulates is our life blood. ⭕️

any attempted systematized defiance of the circle constitutes a tumor or a heart attack. Some type of unholy disease which kills the organism. In today’s tech feudalism that’s called Net Worth, or influencers. 🤑

Technologically civilized would mean that the emergent wealth of the organism flows from the top end of total aggregate productivity (value generated) back to the beginning in an automatic credit type of way, such that no individual beneficiary is raised above others, and no individual sponsor or authority point is held responsible or given control of this flow. This would be the invention of decentralized money, the Viable Tech connecting all other viable tech to all beneficiaries, effectively employing the meaning of innovation to reduce or totally eliminate labor/overhead / cost to human wellbeing and the enjoyment of wealth produced by the organism as a whole.

2️⃣ • Ya cannot govern by Ruling, ya Dingus!! []

Automating the purchase of the basic minimum in food and wellbeing commerce on behalf of the entire population is the means by which tech feudalism converts into technologically civilized, because the only authority that doesn’t kill the organism is that of the combined emergence of the V O L U N T A R Y spending decisions of all the sovereign individuals.

(For yer health!!)

~Purchase on behalf of~

Is the bridge tech to the full decentralization system, because you need to retain the aspect of voluntary purchasing by individuals, who then select and continue to sustain the winners in the innovation contest whose offering is widely adopted because it’s the most optimal and wins at reducing cost and overhead.

Thus, we see that it is pure ancap : a means of total divorce from the harmful entanglement of authority and status attainment institutions like government and corporation - a simple payment to every citizen to purchase their wellbeing voluntarily, sponsoring the winners in that contest via the auto refilling minimum income credit app (like bill pulte sending everyone 1337$ every month on their cash app).

3️⃣ •We held these truths to be self evident - The income floor is like tokens to vote via purchase, but simultaneously a gesture of wellbeing toward all those who have been harmed by state tyranny, domestic violence , corporate rigging (monopsony, gouging, monopoly, theft, etc) or any kind of oppression - Of course, As any good democracy Which eliminates poverty and guarantees life liberty and the pursuit of happiness should do.

The actions of a truly free populace will then fund whatever else can or should exist in such a free society, because healthy humans who aren’t exhausted , depleted , and diseased are creative and industrious. Here you have a next generation society that invents itself. It starts with the decentralization of money so that democracy begins to flow in the commerce itself.

22 - technological civility

🔄 Inclusion pricing / inclusion model -

Let me mathematically discuss The next human innovation equation

First of all, social order definitions.

We are calculating social order where we have eliminated boss tyranny and installed voluntary transacting as the basic motion.

(The lack of doing so is how economy runs now, full of tyranny and abuse, and distraction politics with illusory division. )

Doing so will Philanthropize value between

Purchaser & Fulfiller.

- the worker and the beneficiary of work both need to capture most, ( ifnot 100% ) of the value within that TRANSACTION

Fulfillers provides any needed function or item to the social organism.

Purchasers are the VOTE PLACERS.

|| Anything that harms or suppresses the social organism can not qualify under the fulfiller. It has to be actual value.

This is democracy of nature - the organism’s emergent intelligence describes:

✨ what is positively valued:

* either vital or desired,

* Or just an optional luxury

💩 What is value minus:

* either simply inefficient (ie obsolete or archaic)

* OR worthless, harmful, or toxic

Inclusion model is the basic exertion of educational value - the human GAin of wellness and growth, taking place of itself, voluntary.

(Educational value is what is expressed by the basic principle about zen:

calm wellbeing in the present now, uninfringed by illusion or coercion.)

Instead of not allowing non paying users to come in, you use advertising and other mechanisms which sponsor them, to avoid excluding.

That is what the Viable Tech of decentralized money can and will do. Enable the democracy of nature by the principle of wu wei.

↘️⭕️↘️ Meta conclusion / sharp rectangle punchline

-

the wealthy innovators or influencers that currently hold Potential energy are responsible for continuously accumulating opportunity cost - if they were to view the emergent intelligence of the social organism somehow, with leader vision, they would circulate the **necessary amount** to fund work at the the bottom, by sponsoring purchasers to create the work for fulfillers.

Emergence is the technological democracy replacement for a representative system that was made obsolete when communication faster than the horse carried letter - instant electronic messaging - came forth.

333

[][][] So Then,

Now [][][]

(Interlude - there is another joker - sets up the monastery value)

() The monastery idea flows into and within the harm reduction platform and is a necessary piece of monk education as a structure of my mind, my deepest heart.

Monastery is Harm Reduction because if money were no object I would open them everywhere and hire other monks to run it with me

() the real purpose is to offer a place that is not tied down by commercial / profitability burden, nor public funding approval.

There was a time that Kanye tried to start a shoes gifting program, but what he should have done was open monasteries, the maximum adequacy 3rd place.

I want to create the space for Leaving this social contract as the main function of my business. 🚪🃏 My business is people’s wellbeing.

👁‍🗨The joker sees through all pairs of eyes - but there is another joker. The warrior

[image transition here:

there is another joker

🚪👁‍🗨🃏

the warrior is the joker

The joker is the tank

The tank is the monk

The monk is at the top

Battling

[image transition back]

He battles every boss, taking Aggro and defending the young and the vulnerable, leading the group, so that the newer ones may learn and get xp

And this monastery is the warrior’s house of gathering.

The base.

What school actually means. The warrior’s house.

STANLEY [the LOVE SAMURAI]

lives there.

In regular reality the Love samurai is a joke in the Raphael level

Of Stanley parable.

In my game, the love samurai is the joker. He is me.

Education monk.

Monastery is the warrior’s house, the place where no nazi infringement is allowed to take away our wellbeing or our free will.

Harm reduction is critical, vital, and sharply precise with intent.

It is abstract, but unambiguous comprised of a few separate but inseparable policy values.

first understand the Nucleus values :

* wellbeing / healing

&

* curiosity / sovereignty

1️⃣ Decriminalization - remove policing against medicinal and educational action / tools. This item resonates by the recent cultural movements to decriminalize federal cannabis and psychedelics, (plus all types of sex work and human interaction for the purpose of wellbeing) and most recently the public outcry to defund policing.

This item is an essential modification to the social contract. We need to be allowed to grow up, and make decisions; with no one standing over the shoulder saying we are wrong. That cannot be tolerated anymore. It’s just too much. It’s too violent. It’s too oppressive. We’re done with it.

2️⃣ decentralization. FUND wellbeing directly

To children and their guardians as valued individually-owned Work. This is an income floor policy. Its true meaning is that there can be no outside boss who could fire you or in any other way withhold the funding.

Because- they aren’t the stake holder. You are, on behalf - your kids are.

We will have decentralized this by letting it be funded at the very bottom of social order, at the purchase level, recognizing that the best purchase will always be made by the individual.

With democracy, That is the liberty we believe in. It’s time we started acting like it.

3️⃣ infrastructural - 3rd places that kids may be kids and Peace is the purpose. All are invited. It is not for sale. Very very simple, common sense for the type of spaces we want to have in a CIVILIZED social order.

I’m Not saying don’t have a public building that is the school. I’m saying don’t have it be an authoritarian Hell , a part time jail with bosses and grading, and de-individualization.

So To have it at all, you need to make it both voluntary and useful. So that children and families may use the resources in support of their kids’ curiosity.

Real TLDR distilled conclusion:

My task as monk educator:

UNPLUG us

from Use of Force Matrix

which demands we emulate coercion

And then PLUG us back In Again

But into the Celebration and Sharing Matrix this time.

Disconnection is the illness -

- Use of Force is the illness

Contact is the medicine []

[] Sharing is the medicine

⭕️

How to contact ?

Celebration

How to Share?

Crafting

🔛

👁‍🗨

Wellbeing (means of doing: healing)

Sovereignty (means of doing: curiosity / question pathing [quests] )

[bestsouthindianmovies]

Best South Indian Movies You Must Watch

Nonetheless, there is a significant utility in distinguishing and posting motion pictures that have pushed the limits of the medium over the range of the previous decade. While this rundown can't be all around authoritative, it actually permits us to have a brief look at the different true to life and socio-social mediations that films from a specific geology have been making. It likewise offers us a chance to reflect and see how every one of these local films have been affecting one another, just as their aggregate spot in Indian and world film.  For more visit- best South Indian movies

Thanga Meenkal ('Gold Fish', 2013, Tamil)

In Tamil film, the dad girl relationship is frequently investigated distinctly with regards to another man entering the condition as the young lady's sweetheart or spouse. Thus, basically, the story gets decreased to a contention between two men competing for a similar lady's consideration. As opposed to this cliché design, Ram brazenly unloads the magnificence and untidiness of a dad little girl relationship in Thanga Meenkal (and furthermore later in Peranbu, 2018). By depicting a ridiculously optimistic however vulnerable dad in Thanga Meenkal, Ram compassionately pushes the crowd to consider on what genuinely makes for a decent dad.

Maheshinte Prathikaaram ('Mahesh's Revenge', 2016, Malayalam)

Dileesh Pothan's presentation film opens with a peaceful waterway stream, and the story also continues to stream like one. The magnificence of Pothan's portrayal lies by they way he meshes the topography of the area into the film as an inborn character (this remains constant for his subsequent film, 2017's Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum, or 'The Mainour and the Witness', too). In Maheshinte Prathikaaram, Pothan gets a short story-esque quality to the film that follows a couple of sensational occasions in the life of exceptionally standard individuals. Investigating the misfortune and addition of affection and honor through its helpless and artistically atypical male characters, the film depicts men with unordinary affectability. The characters and the conditions appear to be genuine to the point that before the finish of the film, you can nearly smell the natural fragrance that develops when downpour falls on dry soil.

Madras (2014, Tamil)

Before Pa Ranjith caught the consideration of the country with his Rajinikanth starrers Kabali (2016) and Kaala (2018), he made this energetic, nuanced and layered film on the lives and governmental issues of middle class Dalit-Bahujans in Chennai. While most pop-social references to Chennai by and large incorporate any semblance of Carnatic music sabhas, channel espresso or the Mylapore sanctuary—which are altogether inseparable from the lives of Brahmin Savarnas—Ranjith's film permits the common laborers to recover the city that was worked with their blood and sweat. Madras is especially huge for how it injects Ambedkarite governmental issues into standard Tamil film. The film strangely depicts a scary divider as both a living character and an image of political capital and shows it as the purpose of contention.

Adaminte Makan ('Abu, Son of Adam', 2011, Malayalam)

Probably the most humanistic stories on the lives of Muslims have originated from Malayalam film. In this film, Salim Ahamed follows the yearnings and battles of an older Muslim couple who seek to go on a journey to Mecca. Catching the subtleties of Kerala's Malabar area, the film is a composition on trust, expectation, tirelessness and sympathy. Entertainer Salim Kumar who won the National Award for his job, conveys perhaps the best execution of his vocation. The film's peak explanation on the start and finishing of human interests is certainly one of the most lovely terminations.

Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum ('The Wolf and the Lamb', 2013, Tamil)

Mysskin's metaphorical wilderness story is both basic and philosophical simultaneously. In this colossally holding film, where the functions of the tracker and the pursued are tradable, Mysskin pushes us to mull over on the outrageous brutality and the exceptional sympathy that people are able to do. The movie producer himself stars as the 'wolf' and conveys one of the decade's best speech minutes. Mysskin is a self-proclaimed understudy and devotee of Akira Kurosawa, and in Onaayum Aattukkuttiyum he gets as near the Japanese producer as could reasonably be expected. The tune less film is additionally raised by Ilayaraaja's stunning foundation score.

C/o Kancharapalem (2018, Telugu)

Set in the thin paths of Kancharapalem, a territory in Visakhapatnam, this outside the box film by Maha Venkatesh is all heart. The film compassionately catches the bizarre romantic tales of characters who are infrequently found in the true to life universe. Populated basically by non-proficient entertainers, the appeal of the film lies by they way it can non-critically take a gander at all its characters. Aside from the idiosyncrasy and the flawlessness of the individual stories, the film additionally figures out how to easily mesh each strand into a more extensive socio-political setting. The film's capricious soundtrack makes the account significantly more vital. C/o Kancharapalem is strong evidence of the way that works of art can be made even on a tight spending plan with the correct producers in charge. Also, if the words 'exquisite' and 'beguiling' are abused in this note on the film, it is simply because the film is such.

Kuttram Kadithal ('The Punishment', 2015, Tamil)

Bramma's National Award-winning film is an extraordinary reflection on transgression, blame, discipline and absolution. While the film offers a significant investigate of the pervasive arrangement of training, the most fascinating part of Kuttram Kadithal is its depiction of its lady hero. While a lot of Indian film can't think past sexual or different types of brutality at whatever point a focal female character is included, Bramma's film powerfully follows the character of Merlin, a faithful Christian and a teacher (played by the fantastic Radhika Prasidhha) as she wrestles with an intense feeling of blame.

Aedan: Garden of Desire (2018, Malayalam)

In this film that uncovers itself as a story inside a story, Sanju Surendran plays with the genuine and the strange. Albeit set in a town in Kottayam, its characters could possibly be from a Gabriel Garcia Marquez tale. Investigating the complexities of human feelings—desire, energy and envy—Surendran takes us through a story that is unhurried however holding simultaneously. The three befuddling stories are described with an expressive visual quality that permits Surendran to differentiate magnificence and agony through want and demise.

Kadhalum Kadandhu Pogum ('Love Too Shall Pass', 2016, Tamil)

To sidestep Nalan Kumarasamy's Soodhu Kavvum ('Gambling will Befall', 2013) and make space for his subsequent film may seem like an unexpected decision. However, in the event that you intently take a gander at how Kadhalum Kadandhu Pogum flawlessly investigates and depicts the sensitive space among fellowship and sentiment, it may be anything but difficult to perceive any reason why. In this moderate blending story that feels like a prequel to the sentimental story that may follow, Vijay Sethupathi and Madonna Sebastian convey one of their most beguiling yet practical exhibitions. The scene where the two characters embrace each other just because may be one of the subtlest yet most powerful minutes in the Tamil sentimental type. While the film is a change of the Korean film My Dear Desperado, Kumarasamy easily limits it to the Tamil milieu and makes it his own.

Thithi ('Funeral', 2015, Kannada)

Catching the account of four ages of men in a Gowda family, the key to the viability of Ram Reddy's film lies in how precisely screenwriter Ere Gowda comprehends the town Node Koppalu (Mandya locale, Karnataka) and its kin. The film catches the arrangement of occasions that follow the passing of the oldest 'Century' Gowda and the occasions are both sensible and absurdist simultaneously. It includes the clashing quest for the men from three ensuing ages in the family and the energetic locals who are seeking after an excessive dining experience at the burial service. While the clamorous and philosophical nature of the film helps one to remember Italian movie producer Federico Fellini's Amarcord (1973), Thithi is solidly established in its provincial socio-political setting. The persuading exhibitions regarding the non-proficient entertainers helps hugely in keeping the account exceptionally valid.

Lucia (2013, Kannada)

Alright, it may seem like cheating to push for an eleventh film in a rundown of ten movies. However, of course, for a film like Lucia that twists all current artistic standards, one ought to be permitted to twist the principles of a rundown too. Pawan Kumar's film about the equal existences of its hero as an attendant and a film star plays precarious psyche games with the watcher and continually moves between the genuine and envisioned universes. Also, the film offers a significant critique on the territory of Kannada film and the demise of single-screen theaters. Lucia will without a doubt keep on staying a significant film for pushing the limits of realistic accounts.

[jadeile-writes]

Fanfic Progress Update 46

Oh, hi! Is it Saturday already? Well, then! Fanfic Progress Update! Stay tuned to the end of this post for a spoiler-y glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure Gone Mini AND the next chapter of Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife.

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 33 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 8th of January. Chapter 34 is halfway done and the scheduled posting date is 29th of January. This chapter is super fun to write, you guise.

I update this fic every three weeks on Wednesdays.

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Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: Husk is just your everyday demon, minding his own business and living his afterlife mostly in self-caused misery. He’s been at it for about ten years when he rather abruptly finds himself on the Radio Demon’s radar. Suddenly his life becomes a lot more interesting. For fuck’s sake, he did not ask for this bullshit. Alastor/Husk.

Progress: Chapter 7 is the current latest chapter, and was published on 10th of January. Chapter 8 will be published on 14th of January, and chapter 9 on 17th of January. The rest of the chapters are done and waiting for their turn; the final count is 16.

I update this fic every Tuesday and Friday!

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Fine, be a part of my afterlife, jackass! (previously known as Afterlife the Complementary Text)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: This is not a stand-alone story! This is a compilation of additional “filler” chapters that go between the chapters of “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”, starting from chapter 7. Read the main story up to that point or further before bothering with this one.

Every chapter of Afterlife is vital to the story: they bring the plot forward, each introduces a new development, each has a reason for being included. The chapters in this, however, are the ideas that couldn’t fit in Afterlife, because they don’t bring the story forward. So, additional fun Husk and Alastor content for this universe, because I feel like it!

Progress: Chapter 1 (or ch.7½ ) is finished and will be posted on 12th of January (Sunday. Tomorrow. Yay!) Chapter 2 (ch.7½ the second) is half done and I hope to get it done by 13th of January (Monday), but if not, then by either Wednesday or Thursday. Chapter 3 (ch.11½ ) is half done, no posting date yet. This fic is looking to be 7 chapters long at this time, but could still change.

So. This is happening now. I’ll be posting the chapters alongside the main story when we get to the point where they come in, assuming I’ve gotten them written out by that time. The updates will happen on the days I’m not posting anything else. Let’s see if I can manage this ^^;

Btw, there will be no sneak-peeks with this one. You’ll have to walk in blind each time ;)

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Drunk Alastor (workname)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary (temporary): Roles are reversed in many ways when a drunk Alastor knocks on Husk’s door and has no intention of going to his own room for the night. And it only gets weirder from there, leaving Husk with a most unexpected arrangement with the Radio Demon. Alastor/Husk.

Progress: Okay. This was supposed to be a long oneshot, but the thing kept writing itself and then took an unexpected turn, I divided it into chapters, and now it has a plot and will be an actual chapter story. Chapters 1 and 2 are done. Chapter 3 has been started. The plan is to start posting this once Afterlife is done with, assuming that I have this mostly written by then.

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Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Possibly worth staying for (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Radiohusk that makes me question my life choices (Hazbin Hotel)

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That’s it for the WIPs! Here are the promised sneak-peeks into Mini and Afterlife. (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fics themselves due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

The Hero statue started to freeze over. A pained grunt sounded in the air, and Link recognized the voice as Sidon's. Hylia damn it! Link grabbed the only boot he had left and tossed it to the right, as far as he could. An ice ray followed immediately, and Link took the opportunity to jump to the left, leaving his shelter. He locked his sight on his enemy, who was looking confusedly in the wrong direction now.

Afterlife

A few years flew by and Husk's friendship with Alastor grew steadier now that he had accepted it and was more or less embracing it. He still made sure to grumble about Alastor being a thorn on his side almost every time they met, but he only meant it sometimes, when Alastor was actually being a fucking pain in the ass. Which he was often enough, and he knew it, too. The bastard did it on purpose more often than not, so he had Husk's complaints coming and deserved every single one of them. There were moments of real camaraderie mixed in as well. For one, Alastor cooked for him all the damn time, whether Husk needed it or not, or even expected it. Alastor simply loved to cook and seemed over the moon with joy at having another person eating the food he made, which also enabled him to cook more often. By now Husk was so used to jambalaya, gumbo, dirty rice, and all things crawfish and shrimp that he felt like he had eaten them all his life. Alastor loved baking as well, so Husk now always had beignets or pecan cake or pecan pie or pecan cookies or pecan anything really in his food stash if he needed something sweet. Alastor didn't much care for sweets, so Husk basically had to eat all of it whenever the guy had the sudden urge to bake. If Husk wasn't almost anorexic levels of skinny regardless of how little or much he ate, he would worry about getting fat with the way he was being fed nowadays.

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

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