#but acting on fear before this regime takes office ...?

[misfitwashere]

ROBERT REICH

FEB 16

Friends,

Before I post my Sunday cartoon, I want to share with you some thoughts about the hellish fourth week of Trump II.

Trump increasingly resembles a monster — a creature that’s extremely powerful and dangerous and is inflicting extraordinary harm on human beings. 

Elon Musk is also behaving like a monster. JD Vance is a baby monster in waiting. 

The monstrous Trump-Vance-Musk regime (I can’t in good conscience call it an “administration”) has appointed a Star Wars cantina of other monstrous people.

Monsters abroad are eager to work with them. Vladimir Putin, Viktor Orban, and the neofascist parties in Europe — which Vance and Musk are actively urging Europeans to support — would like nothing better than for the world to succumb to their monstrosities. 

Authoritarians are attracted to one another because they legitimize each other. The more thugs in high places, the easier it is for another thug to make it to the top. Oligarchs also help boost each other’s power and wealth. 

The rise of these monsters raises a profound challenge for the rest of us: How do we maintain common decency when monsters are in charge? 

It was a question our parents’ or grandparents’ generation had to face when confronting the monsters of their era — Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini, and Franco, as well as homegrown monsters such as the Ku Klux Klan, Father Coughlin, Senator Joe McCarthy, and other bigots who fed off their fetid fumes.

I remember my father saying that while it was only natural to fear such monsters, we must not submit to them. We can’t let fear cause us to hide or retreat. If we submit to their bullying, we only encourage more bullying. 

He said it was natural to worry about the monsters, but we shouldn’t obsess about them. We couldn’t let the monsters take over our waking hours, our conversations, our dreams. If we obsessed about them, we gave them power over us that they didn’t deserve. 

And he told me that while it was natural to want to defend ourselves from the monsters, defensiveness was not enough. Defending ourselves would not stop them. We had to go on the offensive. Rather than retreat, we had to fight them. Rather than resist them, we had to overpower them. 

Yet neither my father nor his generation faced the task of maintaining decency and integrity in America at a time when many people in positions of leadership in this country have joined the monsters or given in to them.

Part of the way to do this, I believe, is to celebrate integrity wherever we find it — such as in the public servants I listed last week in my post on “profiles in courage.” 

On Thursday, Acting U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York Danielle Sassoon resigned rather than obey an overtly political order from a top Justice Department official to drop a corruption case against New York City Mayor Eric Adams. 

Sassoon is not a liberal Democrat. She had been a law clerk for Justice Antonin Scalia and was appointed to her position only recently by Trump. But Sassoon has integrity. She explained that the order to dismiss the case was “inconsistent with my ability and duty to prosecute federal crimes without fear or favor and to advance good-faith arguments before the courts.” She continued: 

“I have always considered it my obligation to pursue justice impartially, without favor to the wealthy or those who occupy important public office, or harsher treatment for the less powerful.”

Integrity can be infectious. Sassoon’s resignation was quickly followed by the resignation of five other Justice Department prosecutors. 

On Friday, Hagan Scotten, the lead prosecutor on the federal corruption case against Adams, also resigned. Scotten condemned Trump’s political justification for dropping the charges against Adams, saying in his resignation letter that any federal prosecutor “would know that our laws and traditions do not allow using the prosecutorial power to influence other citizens, much less elected officials.” He added: 

“If no lawyer within earshot of the President is willing to give him that advice, then I expect you [Emil Bove III, the acting deputy attorney general] will eventually find someone who is enough of a fool, or enough of a coward, to file your motion. But it was never going to be me.”

These resignations represent the most high-profile public resistance so far to Trump’s tightening control over the Justice Department. They demonstrate that Trump and Musk’s monstrous behavior has not been normalized. 

It is important to remember that while the monsters claim most headlines, they are still the exceptions. 

Despite the outcome of the 2024 election, most Americans are decent people who want to live in a decent society, and who reject bigotry and hate. That’s been my experience over decades of public service. 

We can maintain our ideals by demonstrating them whenever and wherever we can — showing courage in the face of fear, protecting the vulnerable in the face of brutality, practicing kindness in the face of cruelty, and preserving what is left of our democracy in the face of tyranny. 

We can maintain decency in the time of monsters. We must. It is the first step in resisting the monsters, and the prerequisite for overpowering them. 

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Josephine Harvey at HuffPost:

MSNBC’s Jen Psaki said Donald Trump is instilling a “culture of fear” in media and politics before even returning to the White House — and he’s learning that it works. She cited the $15 million ABC News recently agreed to pay to Trump’s presidential library in order to settle a defamation lawsuit that many legal experts said the network could have won. Many critics of the decision viewed it as an act of cowardice, or obedience, from the news organization. “If you’re Trump and his team, what does that teach you? It teaches you that tactics like this can work, and that you should keep at them,” Psaki, a former White House press secretary for President Joe Biden, said on her show Monday. She noted that Trump, “as if on cue,” expanded his threats of legal action against the media after the ABC News settlement. At a news conference in Florida on Monday, Trump said he planned to sue the Des Moines Register over a poll that predicted he would lose Iowa by 4 points. (He ended up winning by a substantial margin.) Trump claimed the poll amounted to “election interference.”

[...] Her guest, Sen. Chris Murphy (D-Conn.), said he didn’t want to be too alarmist, but “I think this is a red alert moment.” “There are not just two things in this world: democracies and dictatorships,” he said. “There are all sorts of countries in this world that occupy a gray zone.” He pointed to countries like Hungary and Serbia, which he said hold elections, but “it is virtually impossible for the political opposition to win, because the press is either owned by the regime or, when the press is not owned by the regime, it is intimidated into submission.”

Jen Psaki is right to call out the disgusting acts of anticipatory obedience of many outlets, especially ABC News, in advance of Donald Trump’s return.

From the 12.16.2024 edition of MSNBC's Inside With Jen Psaki:

[overalls4all]

Thomas watched with a measured level of contempt as the contingent of the local Youth Patriot League marched down main street. The daily march had become background noise amidst all of the changes enacted in the past year or so. Thomas held back a scoff as he stared at the proud determined faces of those marching, each one clad in the same blue coveralls he himself was wearing: the coveralls which has been made compulsory following the passage of the National Unity Act pushed through Congress last year.

A few other men clad in the uniform coveralls raised a salute to the marching Patriots.

"Hail Unity!" they shouted, some with a beaming smile, others with quiet resignation.

Thomas didn't know which he hated more. Those who had enthusiastically embraced the changes seemed braindead, completely unaware of how the new regime was systematically taking away their freedoms. But those who wanted to resist, yet made no effort, seemed to Thomas to be far more cowardly. They donned the coveralls before the law was even being enforced. They stood at the side of the street every day to show their "patriotism" as the parade went by. Thomas had spoken with many in private, and they all expressed their discomfort with Unity Act, yet here they were chanting "Hail Unity" like a drone.

Of course, Thomas could only resent them so much before he resented himself. After all, when the coveralls became compulsory, he buckled the first time he was caught in public out of uniform. He still remembers how the Unity Officer pressed him against a wall and demanded he put on his coveralls. How humiliated he was when he was made to change into coveralls in the middle of the street, without any further protest. Thomas wasn't ever the first to salute or recite the slogan "Hail Unity", yet he was too fearful not to reciprocate in front of others.

"Thomas!" he heard a voice call. Running up was an old classmate from college, Jerry. It took Thomas a second the recognize Jerry without his usual ensemble of metal band t-shirt and ripped black jeans- the uniform coveralls had a way of removing those personal touches.

"Long time no see man. Hail Unity!" Jerry threw up his hand in a salute. It was the first time Thomas heard him say those words, but the tone was the same as any "What's up?" or "Hey there!" he heard in the past.

"Jerry, dude, almost didn't recognize you," Thomas' voice faltered, knowing what was expected next. "Yeah, uh, hail Unity." How he wanted to kick himself.

"The uniform will do that to a guy! But it's so cool to see you in them. You haven't changed your profile pic on Instagram or anywhere to show yourself in them."

"I'm not using social media much these," Thomas replied, honestly. It was enough seeing and hearing everyone fall in line in person, he didn't need to see more of it online.

"You're missing out man. It's so cool to see every across the country coming together. Like, did you know the Youth Patriot League marches through towns across America at the same time as ours. What a way to come together!" Jerry's voice seemed almost rehearsed, like he heard those words somewhere else and knew the repeat them.

Thomas forced a smile, not eager to get into with an old friend, "Yeah, it's pretty cool we can come together." It took every ounce of effort to not roll his eyes at what he just said.

Jerry's eyes were quickly distracted back to the parade, "Oh look, it's the last squadron. Let's go show our support!"

"I'm fine from back here," Thomas started to protest, but Jerry took his by the arm. It would raise too much suspicious to struggle against him.

Jerry dragged Thomas to the edge of the street, where the last squadron had stopped. The Youth Patriot League was meant to represent the strength of the next generation of Americans, but all Thomas saw was weakness- brainwashed young men clad in uniform coveralls.

But Thomas was not better, he had to remind himself. He wore the same coveralls. He even said the same slogans and made the same salutes, even he if he hated it. Maybe all the others hated it too, but what difference did it make? As the crowds raised their arms in a salute, Thomas did his part. As the marchers made their call for the chant, Thomas' voice raised in solidarity with the others.

"Hail Unity! Hail Unity! Hail Unity!"

Thomas realized that there was no difference between enthusiastically conforming and reluctanly conforming. Either case made the same thing: not a coward, nor a dullard, but a proud patriot.

[mkmarlene]

Little did she know her life would turn out this way, her every day becoming a nightmare as people all around seemed to slowly be losing their minds and collectively succumbing into acceptance of the madness due to fear. It was no wonder her boss had joined the club, thriving in his own act of self preservation and yielding all his power to those so keen on setting everything up on fire. Utterly annoyed, the brunette could not understand the easiness in which people seemed to give up, stop fighting altogether. Her whole family had been murdered, an act of war but mostly out of spite, a need to quiet down the voices of those who refused to lower their heads and accept a new regime that was not only unfair but also cruel. Marlene's stance remained unwavered, if not stronger, after everything that happened-- she was certainly a different person, and not all of her intentions were pure anymore, but she would do anything to stop those like Rabastan who wanted nothing but to destroy the wizarding world as they knew it.

She should be furious, and perhaps she was, at him showing up at her boss' office and demanding things from her as though he had the power to. He clearly thought he did and her boss had probably promised him so, how very lovely to see the Ministry getting corrupted from the inside. He could boast all he wanted but Marlene knew who the wizard was and she was pretty certain that his time to pay for the crimes he committed would come. That gave her a newfound energy to endure with the insanity of this bizarre meeting. "That was a whole lot of words, mostly bullshit, but a great speech nonetheless." The witch allowed sarcastically, shrugging her shoulders the slightest bit. "Perhaps you didn't hear me right the first time, it does sound to me like you've been offered the position permanently. Can't see the boss coming back and doing a better job at telling me to stay put and behave, or else..." Letting the words trail off, she dared take a step towards him. Sometimes, when all's been taken from you, fear goes with it-- there's really nothing more they can do to hurt you. "I do not respond to you, nor will I ever, Rabastan." Purposefully using his first name, the brunette didn't hesitate before spitting at his face, she wouldn't show him any respect. "And believe me, I'll make sure to put you right in Azkaban, even if it's the last thing I ever do."

Months had passed since Marlene had appeared on his doorstep. The meeting had been both inconvenient and amusing, revealing the Ministry's indecorous methods and the fact that he was a targeted suspect. It was hardly a surprise and neither did it disturb him. His whole family was notoriously right-wing. Only idiots would believe they were wholly innocent. The Lestranges played a wily game, upholding a respectable appearance while never shying from their core values. As long as they were not revealed as extremists, they were untouchable. It didn't hurt to have friends in high places, either. Marlene's boss was one such family friend, though it had taken Rabastan a long time to speak with him. He had been distracted over the last few months, after all. Dealing with personal affairs had far overtaken his need to avenge petty grievances. But time had been a forceful healer and he did not forget his grudges. So here he stood, calmly and as though he were without a care in the world.

"We are not on first name terms, Miss McKinnon." Consuming her appearance with a level stare, he noted the exhaustion in her eyes and felt a thread of satisfaction. "Neither am I lost. I've just been chatting with your Head of Department, who has kindly agreed that we can use his room to speak. So let us be very clear: if you require my assistance with Ministry investigations, I will of course comply. I want this war to end." It wasn't a lie. The double-speak lightly entertained him, bringing a curve to his lips so subtle it was barely visible. "If you wish to eliminate me from accusations, I will also oblige. But you will not force me to abandon my work again. You do not get to arrive at my home demanding my attention, unless you are there to arrest me with certain proof of a crime - which you will never have, because it does not exist. Do we understand each other?"

[starforgednegativespace]

Part Four: The Crimson Commonwealth

Reverie station made its slow orbit around the dead gas giant Sepulcher, its enormous, wheel shaped form slowly revolving a matter of kilometres above the toxic gasses which made up 95% of the planet. At its core, Sepulcher was a solid mass of mineral rich iron, laced with deep veins of silver ripe for mining. Whoever controlled Sepulcher controlled the sector; and Vlada Ikaro controlled Sepulcher.

Ikaro was the great-granddaughter of the founder of Ikaro Corps, a man named Ayako Ikaro. Ayako was a proud and strong young family man when the environmental cataclysm on Vanessa threatened to turn the world into an uninhabitable desert. When the gangs arose and began persecuting the locals, Ayako banded together some like-minded family and friends and fought back. For a blood-drenched decade, Ayako's Ikaro Corps grew from a band of locals defending their territory against lawlessness into a strong criminal enterprise, feared across Vanessa and its surrounding moons

Ayako's youngest son, Kei Ikaro, took the throne when his older brother Takashi was assassinated by the Wraiths, a rival group from the system. Kei embarked on a ruthlessly violent crusade against the much more powerful Wraiths, pulling off the seemingly impossible; defeating the larger, wealthier criminal group. As tribute, Kei took Yelena, the youngest daughter of the head of the Wraiths, Viggo Salvi, as his wife. In victory, he united the Wraiths and the Ikaro Corps into one vast criminal empire known across the system as the Crimson Commonwealth. In rebellion, a splinter group of Wraiths split off, but their few ships and handful of pirates posed no threat to Ikaro.

Kei Ikaro was killed in his sleep four years later by Yelena, then only nineteen. Yelena raised their one infant child, Vladov Ikaro, to lead the Ikaro Corps with Yelena acting as regent until Vladov was old enough to take the reins.

Vladov's interest grew outside of the smuggling, raiding, racketeering, prostitution and murder of Ikaro Corps' past. He invested in mining and science, purchasing legitimate businesses, research stations, orbitals ; donating to planetary politicians and defending the Church. The Crimson Commonwealth's influence and power grew drastically over the next forty years, until Yelena Ikaro had Vladov assassinated, seizing regency of the Ikaro Corps once more in lieu of Vladov's only child, Vlada.

Vlada did not make the mistake her father had. At 16, she had Yelena's supporters within the Corps murdered and in a show of cruelty and brutality not seen since the rule of Kei, Vlada Ikaro had her grandmother publicly tortured for days before execution. So began the reign of Vlada Ikaro, and a new heretofore unmatched era of expansion, conquest and brutality for the Crimson Commonwealth. Now, fifty years later, her greatest achievement had just been snatched from under her.

Vlada was almost seventy years old, but the best healthcare available in the forge and a punishing regime of fitness, combined with her regular use of age-defying drugs, cosmetic enhancements and experimental surgeries (the latter a boon of her father's push into scientific research) meant she looked and felt no older than forty; only the greying of her jet black hair gave any clue to her true age. Seated on a plush office chair facing the full wall vid-window which usually showed Sepulcher in its vast, red glory, she sipped at the cocktail she held in one slim hand and unconsciously tugged a loose thread of the black silk robe she had slipped on after the call had interrupted her bath.

The vid-window showed the sweaty, nervous face of Arnov Slater, one of her lieutenants in charge of the docks at Reverie.

"What do you mean, nothing?"

Arnov swallowed hard. "That's what Fixer said, your grace. The gunship Tormentor docked from Animus under an hour ago. Fixer claims the team carried out the hit on Shepherd as per your orders, but a thorough sweep of her home and offices came up with nothing. No information on the vault. Fixer brought all her info disks back for deep study, but he said, not a thing."

Vlada winced

"That's not possible. Our contact assured us Shepherd was researching it, using my silver and my resources. "

"I can only say what Fixer said. They also rounded up all of Shepherds subordinates and brought them back for debriefing".

Vlada smiled. They would be debriefed, alright. Until every inch of skin was flayed from their bodies...

"There is... one other matter" Arnov continued. "Possibly unconnected but... well, the team took some losses, on account of meeting with some resistance..."

"I assumed they would" Vlada interjected quickly. "Shepherd may have been a traitor, but she was neither weak nor a fool."

"I think it's best you hear this for yourself, your grace."

Vlada watched as Arnov, hands shaking, plugged a recorder jack into some port of his console and pressed a button. A waveform opened on the vid-window screen, the name 'Coil' attached to it. Vlada had no idea who Coil was, but she assumed they were part of the kill team. The jittery, distorted audio began to play.

'It's Cutter! She's with Shepherd, I've found Cutter- KZZKZK '

The cocktail class slipped from Vlada Ikaro's fingers and shattered on the marble floor of her office.

"Cutter?!"

"I checked our records, your grace, and Cutter matches the call sign of a rogue courier we -"

"I fucking know who Cutter is, Arnov!"

Arnov went silent and deathly pale. "Cutter. Cutter..." Vlada mumbled. "Little Kiri Quint. Shepherd, you traitorous snake. To betray me and wound me with this insult..."

Arnov cleared his throat.

"Your grace?"

"The disks will be useless. Whatever information Shepherd had is on Rune Song now. Animus is three days jump from here, and knowing Cutter, she's jumped in the opposite direction." Vlada exhaled heavily. "I want a survey team at Animus in three days, take our largest hauler. Find that vault whatever it takes, bag it and bring it back here for testing"

"Your Grace, you want us to... move a precursor vault? That's never been attempted."

Ikaro's lips pursed very slightly.

"Bring. It. Here."

"Yes, your grace."

Ikaro dismissed Arnov with the faintest motion of a finger, and the vid-window returned to the expansive view of the Jovian gas giant. She stood, ignoring the shattered glass, slipped the robe off and pressed a secondary com control on the am of the chair.

"Yes your grace?"

"Have the maid bring another drink to my bath chamber and clean the mess in my office. Then I want you to dispatch kill teams to every Waypoint, Planet and Station within six jump days of Animus; target is Kiri Quint, call-sign Cutter, vessel name Rune Song. No outside agents, just our people."

"As you wish" the buzzy reply came.

"Oh, and in..." Vlada pondered "Thirty minutes, have Arnov Slater arrested and executed."

"As you wish".

Vlada clicked the com off, neatly folded the robe in her arms, and returned to the ornate bath chamber attached to her office. As she slid into the hot, rejuvenating water she closed her eyes and grimaced. Cutter had resurfaced, and whether she knew it or not, she had the means to make Vlada the most powerful warlord in The Forge. Two birds, she thought. One bullet.

[cinemaisfemale]

Every day starting from February 24 feels like a month. I want violence to stop. I want peace for the people of Ukraine. I'm scared, maybe very selfishly, for myself and my family. I'm scared of what it would be like to be a lesbian in Russia in the months and years to come. A lot of people who had reasons to be scared for their personal safety fled Russia but I don't have the money. And I fear that soon there will be no means to leave the country anyway.

Only on February 23 I wrote a letter to the prosecutor's office in Komsomolsk to stop criminal charges against Yulia Tsvetkova (you can read about her here, here and here if you are interested in what it was like to be different here even before all the recent events). After February 24 I signed a change.org petition and an open letter from Russian lawyers (I'm a lawyer) asking our government to stop military action in Ukraine. I wrote to senators asking the same. I was all torn up about the fact that I was scared to do more. I felt like such a coward. And now after they passed the bill about 'fake' news I am scared that even me signing letters and writing to representatives and government bodies will be cause enough for administrative or even criminal charges. I deleted all posts from social media and chats with friends that might be incriminating under new laws. I felt very humiliated doing so.

Now one of my biggest worries is that my mom will be unable to buy the medicine for blood pressure that she needs to take everyday. She has enough for three months. What will happen in three months I can not begin to guess. I hope the supply of medicine to Russia will be renewed.

My biggest hope in all this is that I will stay myself. That this fear and panic I feel will not make me betray myself, my principles, my beliefs, that I will not let the regime to break me, to change me into something I will be ashamed of. I do not support the actions of my government. I have never supported them. Maybe I did too little about it because I was scared, because I was weak. But I feel it crucial to save that last bit, my core self from being corrupted by that fear. They still can not police our thoughts and our beliefs and I am still determined to act as my conscience tells me not as my fear tells me.

I allow myself only a limited amount of time a day to feel sorry for myself, to panic, to be angry at people with power who destroyed millions of lives in one day by their cruel decision. And I spend the rest of the day trying to be as productive and as reasonable as I can be. All my feelings will help nobody (not me, not my family, not people who are being killed, beaten and prosecuted) if I let them consume me. Today I spent that time I allow myself to feel scared writing this post.

I have this stupid habit to process life through the lens of books, film and tv. And these days I think a lot about Aimee & Jaguar and Circumstance. Like this is my future. Maybe even the optimistic prediction of my future, because the main characters of these films were happy at least for some brief moment. And I don’t feel as brave and smart as Jaguar.

But I also remember one of my favorite moments from Buffy in season 2. When Angelus says: “No weapons, no friends, no hope. Take all that away, and what's left?” and Buffy answers “Me”. And I try to find that inner strength in myself, I still have me and I know who I am.

Do not reblog, maybe I will delete this post later.

[ninjakasuga]

Sonally Celebration, Year 3, Day Seven & Eight.

Sonally Celebration Week, Year Three, Day Seven & Eight: Slip & Rest.

Due to work wearing me down some I took day seven off and combined both prompts together since they can work nicely together. I had a blast again this year, and maybe I can muster the drive to get my solo-writing back on track, as well as get back to some hiatus’d RP’s I owe people.

Slip & Rest:

Setting her stylus pen down, Sally’s eyes glanced over the proposal she had finished penning on her tablet device. Once she was satisfied with the outline, and it’s concise word usage, she manually saved the document, and then had it sent to each of the Acorn Council members to go over, and give their input before they agreed on a finalized draft to implement. “Done, and done! Nicole, what's next on the docket for today?”

Materializing from one of the many holographic emitters through the castle, Nicole the Lynx appeared. Sporting a rather nice looking lavender, women's business suit. With the dress shirt under the suit jacket a lovely cream-pink. Hands folded, she smiled at Sally as her eyes closed briefly. “Absolutely nothing else! You’re finished for the day!”

Sally blinked, and looked at the clock at her desk, “How can that be? It’s only two o’clock, I should have more work until four or four-thirty. I could have sworn I had a remaining proposal to look over-.”

With a simple wave of her hand in a dismissive gesture, Nicole interjected politely. “You did, but I delegated it, as I did the rest of your itinerary.”

Flabbergasted, Sally pushed back from her desk, but remained sitting. “W-why?! Why did you do that Nicole? Some of those documents could use my oversight!”

“Yes, but also no. None of them were documents that couldn’t be looked over by the right delegate who is knowledgeable of the topic. They will have to cross your desk again, but for today others can do your work.” Hands now behind her back, Nicole’s smile faded, her expression now mild disappointment, and also full of concern. “You’re starting to overwork yourself again, and above all else, you’re still recovering from your ‘slip’.”

Grimacing, Sally looked down at her right leg, which was in a cast. “I’m sitting down, and off of it-.” “Doctor’s orders were to elevate it as much as possible. You can’t do that at a desk.” The Lynx stated in a firm, chiding manner as she moved closer and eyed the leg in question. “Why aren’t you doing this from bed or a couch at least?”

Sighing, Sally dragged a hand over her face. “Because, I get comfy, and I want to rest, I start to let my mind wander, or get nap-craven…”

An amused expression crossed the cyber-lynx’s face as she steps closer and places a hand on Sally’s shoulder. The nanites in her hologram made her body solid so she could do so. “That’s what you get when you don’t get enough rest. Your body will eventually start to remind you it has needs.”

Whining a little, a rarity from Sally unless she was ‘tired’. “I just have so much to do-.” “You have people to delegate your workload, myself included.” Reminded Nicole with an all-too-familiar tone of playful snark. “Sally this isn’t the war, you don’t need to take the world on your shoulders.”

Running a hand through her hand, Sally sighed again. Deep down she knew Nicole was right, but she had her reasons for being hyper-focused on certain aspects of work. “I know, I know, but after what happened in Spagonia last year, I wanted to hit hard on stemming any further diplomatic issues that have cropped up since-.”

The hand on her shoulder softly squeezed, empathy deep in Nicole’s voice. “I know you’re worried about a repeat of the kidnapping. Nor have any relations with other countries soured over bad diplomacy; but the whole incident was staged by a handful of greedy jerks.”

 “Greedy jerks, with a lot of pull, and a decent sized following of morons who bought their spiel, hook, line and sinker.” Sally reminded Nicole, shuddering as the memory of the whole incident made her heart clench in terror. The fear of someone wanting to hurt her babies to get back at her never truly left her. “I can’t let that happen again, ever.”

“None of us want it to happen again. That’s why we made those bracelet watches with two of my A.I.’s to be with them at all times. Whisper and Tangle are their new bodyguards and they’re among the best, and you and Sonic have been teaching them to defend themselves. In fact…” Nicole gestured to Sally’s leg. “That’s how you got that, you got over-zealous showing them some of your moves.”

A blush formed on Sally’s cheeks, going up to the tips of her ears. After the kidnapping incident, both Sonic and she wanted to start the children learning some basic self-defense. They made it a full family event with all four of them practicing, and the kids were really receptive. Then again, they always liked to see their parents show off for them, and neither Sonic nor she could resist those eyes, and pouty lips for too long.

So Sally decided last week to really show off some of her acrobatics. Even after all these years, a lot of it just came back to her, even the skills she rarely used since the war (she did keep up some of her training as an exercise regime) she found herself slipping back into use without too much catch-up practice. However, Sally was now over thirty, and was a bit more… ‘filled-out�� since her teen years. So during one wall-flip and somersault onto another surface maneuver, she miscalculated and ended up landing on her one leg, the wrong kind of way.

Luckily the break wasn’t bad, but of course Dr. Jolene had insisted on bed-rest for the majority of the next month, and to stay off the leg as much as possible. For the first two weeks, Sally obliged the order; until the itch to crack at her work got the better of her. Deep down Sally knew she was being somewhat unreasonable, but she couldn’t just be lazy all day when things had to be done!

Realizing she’d been silent for a time, and Nicole was looking at her with curious concern. Sally shook her head. “I'm well aware of how my leg got injured.” Hands on her desk, she stood up, making sure to lean on her good leg, and not let go of the desk. Reaching for her crutches, she managed to slip them under her arms and eased from the desk. In such a quick motion, Nicole didn’t have a chance to offer to help her with them. “In anycase, even if my other tasks have been delegated, I can still stop by the Council Chamber to-.”

Having had her fill of indulging the notion Sally might listen to reason and ‘rest’, Nicole decided to act and clapped her hands. Instantly she was connected to the intercom of the library. “Sonic, your lovely wife is trying to hobble out to the Council to work when she should be resting.

Eyes wide, and panic setting in, Sally glared at the Lynx who just smiled widely. “Nicole you traitor!” She turned to try and ‘hobble off’, but she could already hear not one, but three ‘booms’, followed by the sound of fast footsteps. Sally could only make a ‘meep’ sound as the door to her office flew open, and there stood her husband and children. “H-hey you three, you didn’t need to interrupt afternoon reading time. I was just seeing myself-.”

Sonic didn’t say a word, he simply crossed the distance, and instantly scooped Sally into his arms. Carrying her just like he always did. “Save the excuses for the Doc, you’re going back to bed. No work, at all. Nicole hun, can I count on you to do your thing?”

“Always my main Hog.” She smiled ever widely, nodding and with a bow, her physical form dissolved as she rejoined the castle’s nanite-network to go about her duties.

Wiggling in Sonic’s grasp, Sally puffed her cheeks, trying to look miffed, but only made herself look like a petulant child. “I can move on my own! I have crutches!” “Denied babe, kids, can you pick up the crutches for me?”

“Yes Dad!” The two seven year olds each grab and crutch and heft the item. The two lay their gazes upon their mother, practically mimicking their Father’s disappointment.

“Mama…” Kathleen puffed her cheeks, and attempted to intensify her glare. “You’re supposed to be resting!”

 As they followed their Father into the hallway, J.C. began to count off as he joined his sister in roasting their mother. “Doctor’s orders, Dad’s orders, Auntie Nicole’s orders, Aunt Bunnie and Uncle Twan’s orders-.”

“I know, I know!” Sally threw up her arms, admitting defeat, if not entirely in a graceful manner. Arms crossed she grumbled as Sonic carried her, she looked to her husband. “Isn’t carrying me a bit much?” She seemed to get more antsy about this fact, than her family putting her in the spotlight.

“Nope.” With a foot he kicked the door open softly, yet swiftly.

“...Aren’t I heavy?”

“Still nope.” Sonic eyed his wife, taking notice of his wife’s look of self-consciousness about the weight comment. “Hey kids, can you do me a solid?” He turned his head to regard the apples of his eye, smiling all the while.

“What can we do for you Dad?” Asked J.C. as he set the crutch he had carried against the wall. Something his sister mimicked as they both gave Sonic their full attention.

“Zip to the kitchen, and if Miss Cream’s there, ask her to whip up some pasta, garlic bread for dinner, and whatever else you two want. After you’re done, go and play, I got Mama from here.”

“Are you sure Daddy?” Kathleen raised an eyebrow. “Mama can be wily.”

He chuckled, gosh the kids were picking up those fancy words their Mama liked to use. “She can, but I can be more, that word you used. I got this.” He smiled and winked at the two children.

After a beat, the two children shared a look. “They’re gonna be gross.” Kathleen surmised after a moment. “Probably.” Her twin nodded, and the two rushed out of the room, making sure to close the door behind them. “Sheesh, us gross?” He grinned at Sally as he brought her to the bed, carefully settling her into her side. “How slander’in can you get? By our own kids!”

Unable to help herself, Sally giggled, lifting her leg as Sonic fit a pillow under her cast-laden limb. “Well to them, us kissing and being cuddly can be seen as gross.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, gazing at his beautiful wife for a moment. Soaking in the view before taking her hand into his. “Something up Sal? I mean besides you not taking bed-rest orders, why’re you so touchy about me picking you up? Do you really think you’re heavy or something?”

“W-well…” The blush returned, from her neck to her ears. As those emerald eyes gazed upon her she looked away. “W-well I am, thicker than before-.” “Sal, it’s called having kids. Even I know most women have some ‘thicc’ added afterward. You’re still gorgeous as ever, plus you still work out, and keep in shape.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the last person I’d consider fat hun. Why did someone accuse you of such?”

“No, no this is entirely on me. I’ve just noticed it more, at how ‘thicc’ I am as you’ve put it. Plus without being able to work out due to my leg, it’s like...I just notice so easily when I’ve gained weight.” She rubbed her arms, feeling so vain about being worried over her figure or weight. “I just, wonder if I was off my jump that messed up my leg because of all this extra weight on me…”

“Ahh, I see…” Sonic still felt she was being silly, but he knew he shouldn’t dismiss her concerns either. Kicking his shoes off, he rounded the bed and climbed on from his side so he could sit next to her. Slipping his arm around her waist he leaned in and rested his cheek to hers. “Sally, sweetie, trust me you’re still fine as ever. That said, I could ask the Doc if there’s some exercises you can do without your legs, and we can ask the cook staff to give ya’ mostly light meals until you’re well enough to exercise properly again.”

“I think I would like that…” She murmured, leaning into him and enjoying the contact.

“As for your weight being why you got hurt… We’re both getting older, but Sal, babe, lookit me.” Once she did he leaned in, kissing her softly. “Just cuz’ your hips, boobs and thighs are a li’ thicker than before. Doesn’t mean you still aren’t looking after yourself, you keep in shape, and well… babe, last year you tore through a buncha armed idiots with just a sword, boots and fists. None of em’ laid a hand on you. You are not losing your touch.”

“I guess, I am being a bit silly…” Sally was still not entirely convinced, but it was nice to hear Sonic’s words. Sure he could charm and butter up anyone if he tried; but she knew him well enough when he was BS’ing. Now wasn’t the case. “Although I could argue you are biased.”

He merely grinned. “So I’m biased, I happen to enjoy being biased toward the woman I married.”

“Good to know, though truth be told.” Nuzzling his cheek, Sally peppered him with soft kisses. “I’m rather biased toward the wonderful man I married.”

After the two embraced again, Sonic leaned back and gently booped her nose. “Now if you’ll just relax and get some rest…”

“I get it, I get it, I know when I’m licked Sonic.”

His eyebrows waggle, “I haven’t done any of that… yet.” A laugh tore from her throat as she lightly smacked his arm. “Sonic!! Hahaha, oh you’re terrible!” “I dunno, you didn’t complain last time.” Arms reclining behind his head, the hedgehog clearly enjoyed his wife’s laughter at his admittedly naughty commentary.

“N-no, I didn’t…” Snerking, Sally shook her head, fighting another blush on her cheeks. “I’m sorry I’ve been difficult, I just… I feel compelled to see things through myself.”

“I get’cha Sal, still, relax, rest.” He insisted as he eased her against her pillows. “I’ll rest with ya’.”

“Going to keep an eye on me, huh warden?”

“If the shoe fits.” He shrugged, his infuriating smile remaining on his face. 

With a dramatic sigh, Sally reclined against the pillows, arms up as if she expected to be cuffed and hauled away. “I submit myself to the court.” “Just be sure to repeat that, as the kids are just as concerned as I am.” He stated playfully, going for one last dig. A bit low, but he wanted her to contemplate on that.

“Ouch… right, ughh.” She dragged a hand over her face. “I probably haven’t been setting a good example for them…” Knowing her children, they would milk that for all they could.

“Eh, I can’t be the only one giving em’ bad habits.” Sonic conceded with a mild shrug, before wrapping his hand over hers. “Now, how about we just lie here and chill here until supper is ready?”

Smiling softly, Sally squeezed his hand. “It’s a date, Sonic.”

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

THE BASTERDS’S ANGELS

Somewhere in a safe place in the French countryside, a group of armed men prepared themselves for the mission they were sent for: killing Nazis and sending fear through the ranks of the Wehrmacht based in France. 

And until now, they managed to accomplish their work, as the German soldiers only knew them as The Basterds. 

Led by Lieutenant Aldo Raine, those volunteers took pleasure in killing and terrifying their foes, as many of the Basterds were Jewish. 

Looking at his men, Aldo smirked: he could not wait to hunt down new Nazis. 

"I know that look. Looking for new scalps, darling?"

Smiling, he turned and saw the woman he cherished the most. 

"You know me too well, honey."

"That's why we're husband and wife!"

"Ya damn right, Winona."

The woman named Winona was, indeed, Aldo's wife. Born in the Cherokee tribe, this woman was the embodiment of the Native American female warrior: athletic, wise, loyal, and brave.

Moreover, she was the only woman in this group. Some people would think that a woman had nothing to do in the U.S. Army.

But quoteth Donny, "She kills more nazis in one day than I kill in three days."

The Cherokee woman has already won the respect of her peers since the first day in France. Besides, she gained a gruesome reputation among the Nazis based in France. They called her "The Cherokee Amazon."

The Apache and the Cherokee: a match made in heaven who took their enemies in hell...

Aldo put his arm around her shoulders:

"Can ya believe it, honey? You and I, in France, killing fascists... How pleasant it is!"

"I agree."

"It's like our honeymoon!"

Winona laughed at this statement.

"Well, a very blood-thirsty honeymoon. But honestly, I would never imagine killing Nazis without you, Aldo!"

"Aw, sweetie! Ya know how to talk to me!" he grinned before kissing her.

A sweet moment interrupted by the booming voice of Donny Donowitz, aka "The Bear Jew."

"Aw, look at those lovebirds!"

"Damn ya, Donny! I was enjoying this moment!"

"We have noticed!" smirked Wicki.

Raine rolled his eyes but smirked. His men are the best among the best, especially when it comes to killing Nazis.

They all came from different backgrounds, had various faiths, but for sure, they were more than ready to wipe out the Third Reich. 

Of course, among his men, there was Donny Donowitz, a sturdy chap from Boston and the other leader of the group. This man gained the nickname of "Bear Jew" after he bashed the skull of dozens of Nazis with his prized baseball bat.

Then, you have Wilhelm Wicki, who fled his native Austria after the Anchlüss. Probably one of the oldest members of this group, his remarkable marksmanship made him a feared sniper.

Sitting next to Wicki was Hugo Stiglitz, a former German soldier. He hated the regime to the core, and he managed to kill 13 Gestapo officers. The Basterds get him out of his jail, and now, Hugo became one of them. More silent than some of his teammates, he easily scared people around him.

Near them, a young man was quietly reading a book, enjoying this peaceful moment. This young man was Smithson Utivich, another Jewish-American soldier. Like his friends, he enrolled in this group to save the remaining European Jews from Nazism's clutches. Even if he was not the most impressive, he excelled at killing Nazis.

The one next to Utivich, who was taking a small rest, was Omar Ulmer, his best friend. A remarkable soldier, Private Ulmer often works along with Smithson and Donny during his missions. Fast and efficient, the Nazis did not stand a chance against him. 

Not far from Omar, his friend Gerold Hirschberg was laughing with his comrades. Hirschberg was considered a loyal and cheerful friend by his fellow Basterds. However, his hot-tempered character made him the official trouble seeker of the group, as he often found himself in danger.

The other man talking with Hirshcberg was named Michael Zimmermann. He has the two roles of driver and explosives expert. The Germans muttered that he was a crazy man who escaped from an asylum. But the truth was that Michael only became mad when he saw a swastika. But for the Basterds, he was a pleasant companion and a joyful friend.

Sitting at his right, his best friend named Simon Sakowitz was tidying his medical stuff. Before the war, he was a brilliant medicine student, but he decided to put his studies on hiatus to enroll in the army. Simon was a skilled and efficient doctor in his group and also an appreciated friend.

Smoking a cigarette, Andy Kagan smirked while looking at his teammates. The young Mister Kagan came from a wealthy family and started a promising acting career in Hollywood until he decided to rescue his people in Europe. He was the spy of the group, a master of manipulation and charm. 

Leaning against a tree, Archie Hicox looked at his allies with a mixture of puzzlement and amusement. This British officer was the last addition to the group. In the beginning, the MI5 spy did not get along with the Basterds, as he saw them as a bunch of crazy rednecks while the others considered him as a snobbish man. But the more they worked together, the most they trusted each other, and mutual respect started to settle between them.

All those men were here in France for one reason: killing Nazis.

Something they excelled, as they did earlier, as they exterminated an entire patrol an hour ago.

Now, they enjoyed a moment of calm to relax before reaching another town. 

Suddenly, Aldo gently stroke Winona's cheek and said:

"Get ready, my lady. We're gonna move!"

"At your orders, Mr. Raine!" smirked the woman as she started to pick up her belongings.

Smiling, the Lieutenant turned to his men and exclaimed:

"Get up, boys! We move!"

"Uh? What? What's going? Are we attacked?" asked Omar, startled.

"Nah, Omar. The Lieutenant just said we're moving. Get up now!" explained Donny.

"Where are we going?" asked Simon.

"Probably somewhere near Fontainebleau. At least, we have to get closer to Paris," replied Utivich.

"Exactly, Smitty! I hope I will have time to pay my debt off once we got there!" sighed Zimmermann as he finished packing up his stuff.

As he picked his backpack, Hirschberg noticed Hugo, who trimmed his knife in his bag. Smirking, the young Basterd came nearer to his comrade. A little game that Andy and Wicki had noticed.

"Oh my Lord! Here we go again! Will Hirschberg never learn his lessons?" sighed the Austrian.

"I wonder how it will end this time: will Hirschberg have a kicked butt or a broken nose?" smirked the American.

Meanwhile, Gerold was close to Hugo and said with an authoritative tone:

"C'mon, Stiglitz! Hurry up! We have to go!"

The German deserter turned and glared at his teammate:

"Lass mich in Ruhe, Hirschberg."  (Leave me alone, Hirschberg).

"Why do I fear the worst?" sighed Simon as he pinched the bridge of the nose.

He counted how many times he healed the bruises on Hirschberg after the latter tried to pick up on someone stronger than him.

At the same time, Hirschberg teased Hugo while the latter tried to contain his anger. But his patience was running thin... 

"Ich werde es dir nicht zwei mal sagen." (I won't tell you twice).

"Aw, come on! Don't look at me like that! I am trying to tell you that you're a bit slow!"

"Stop that, Gerold! You're going to regret it!" smirked Andy.

Indeed, Hugo was pissed off by Gerold. Fuming, he took his knife and put it on Hirschberg's throat.

"Leave me alone. Now!" growled the German man.

Gulping, the young Basterd raised his hands in defeat.

"O-OK, Stiglitz. I stop. Can you lower your knife, please?"

Growling, Hugo put his knife back in his vest while Gerold ran away.

"We told you that you're going to have trouble, Geri!" snickered Michael.

As for Wicki, he turned to Hugo and asked:

"War es notwendig, Hirschberg einen Schrecken einzujagen, Hugo?" (Was it necessary to scare Hirschberg, Hugo?)

"Er ist eine Nervensäge." (He is a pain in the ass.) snarled Hugo as he walked towards Donny and Omar.

Wilhelm rolled his eyes and muttered:

"Ich schwöre bei Gott, die würden mich wahnsinnig machen!" (I swear to God, they would drive me crazy!)

"C'MON, BOYS! WE HAVE A LONG ROAD!" yelled Aldo as he led the march along with Winona.

Soon, all the commando started their long road across the French countryside. Unbeknownst to them, they were about to make an encounter that would change their lives for a long time...

Meanwhile, Maddie and Ada wandered through the forest, looking for shelter.

A little earlier, they had almost been spotted by a German patrol, which had scared them.

Now, their priority was to find a safe place while they waited for help.

As they walked through the woods, Maddie saw a cave:

"Look, aunty! A shelter!"

"Well done, Maddie! Let's go!"

They rushed to the hiding place and checked that nothing was inside.

Once assured that they were alone, Ada ordered her niece:

"Listen to me, Maddie: you're going to stay here and make no noise, okay?"

"What about you? What are you going to do?" asked the little girl.

"I'll try to find something to eat. Keep quiet, do you understand?"

Maddie nodded. Smiling, Ada stroked her head:

"I'll be back soon, I promise!"

Then, she walked away while Maddie hid behind a rock.

The young girl hated being alone. Of course, she knew that it was necessary. But the truth was that she was scared.

She was afraid to be alone, at the mercy of the Germans. After all, what could a seven-year-old girl do when faced with armed soldiers?

And then, who knew what could happen to her aunt?

Well, the little girl knew that Ada was capable of defending herself. But if anything happened to her, she would not be able to survive.

Suddenly, she heard voices and footsteps approaching the cave. Covering her mouth and trying to be as hidden as possible, Maddie tried to figure out who had just arrived.

She kept her ears open and listened to the conversation:

"Great, guys! We can stop here!"

"Finally, it's about time! We must have been walking for hours, and my legs are killing me!"

"Stop complaining, Gerold!"

"Oh no! You're not going to start bickering again!"

Maddie was intrigued: these people seemed to be speaking in English. Well, at least she wasn't dealing with Nazis, which was good news.

But what were these people doing here?

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear anyone enter the cave until a man's voice asked:

"What on earth are you doing here?"

Horrified, she looked up and saw a medium-sized man staring at her with a surprised look.

As for Omar, he did not expect to find a child alone in a place like this.

He called his boss:

"Lieutenant, come and see!"

"What?" asked Aldo, who arrived in his turn and saw the little girl.

"Look at that! It's quite funny!"

"What's going on?" asked Wicki.

For all answers, the two men came out of the cave, escorting Maddie. The little girl was looking at the rest of the group with a frightened look.

"It seems that our hideout already had an occupant!" declared Hicox.

"But who's crazy enough to leave a kid all alone in the wild?" exclaimed Michael.

"I don't know," muttered Andy.

Simon, in his role as a doctor, walked over to the girl:

"I need to check her out. Who knows, maybe she needs treatment?"

"Do your job, doc!"

Sakowitz kneeled in front of Maddie and asked her:

"Do you speak English?"

She hesitantly replied with a small voice:

"Y-Yes, doctor!"

"Aw, ain't she cute?" smiled Donny.

"Low your voice, Don. She is scared!" said Winona while looking at the young girl.

Meanwhile, Simon carefully examined Maddie. He realized that she might suffer from malnutrition.

"Oh God, look how thin she is!"

He turned to Aldo.

"Lieutenant, do we have some food to give her?"

"For sure! Omar, gimme some bread, would ya?"

"Right now, sir!" replied Ulmer as he threw a piece of bread.

Raine caught it and handed the bread to Maddie.

"Here, ya can have some!"

Hesitantly, the little girl took the bread and muttered:

"Thank you!"

"Cute and polite: you must be a lovely little person!" smirked Archie.

Maddie took a bite and ate slowly, enjoying the taste of the bread.

"Poor little thing! She must not have eaten for days!" declared Wicki.

Winona came nearer and asked:

"What's your name, little one?"

Once she finished her mouthful, the little girl replied:

"Maddie Mandelbaum!"

"Okay, Maddie. Now, tell me: what are you doing here, all alone?"

Looking around, Maddie replied:

"It's because I flee!"

"What do you flee?"

For an answer, Maddie picked her necklace and showed a silver Star of David.

That's all it took for the Basterds to understand what Maddie was trying to escape.

"I see... You're a Jew, right?"

The little girl nodded.

"I see... But what are you doing by yourself?"

"I'm not alone: my auntie went to get food."

"Well, okay. And what's your auntie's name?" asked Smithson.

A female voice answered:

"Why don't you ask me?"

Everyone turned to Ada, who was holding a bag over her shoulder.

The young woman looked suspiciously at this troop. Even though they were not wearing Wehrmacht uniforms, she did not want to take the risk of crossing paths with Gestapo soldiers.

"Well, I guess you're the famous aunt?" asked Omar.

"Indeed. I am Adela Mandelbaum. And you?"

"We are American... with a German deserter, an American-Austrian soldier, and a British officer," replied Andy.

Sighing with relief, Ada put down her bag.

"At least there's some good news in this mess!"

Maddie rushed to her aunt and said:

"Ce sont des gens bien, tata. Ils m’ont donné du pain!"  (They're good people, Auntie. They gave me bread!)

Aldo walked over to Ada and introduced himself:

"Lieutenant Aldo Raine, nice to meet ya. So like this, you're the one who manages survival?"

"Yes, indeed."

"I see. And how long have ya been alone?"

"I don't know. I'm more concerned about escaping the Germans than counting the days."

Aldo nodded before replying:

"And I suppose you're hiding because you're Jewish, Imma right?"

Ada sighed.

"Exactly."

Donny spoke up:

"Lieutenant, we can't leave them alone. They'll get caught by the Krauts!"

"But they're civilians: we can't afford to have potential targets with us!" grumbled Hirschberg.

Hugo glared at him:

"Put yourself in the kid's shoes: would you like to be left at the mercy of those sickos? I don't think so."

Simon added:

"Besides, if they stay with us, they'll be safe. What do you think, Lieutenant?"

Raine massaged the back of his neck, doubtful.

"It's true that having two civilians with us can be a problem..."

He met his wife's gaze as she stared at him pleadingly. And if there was one person who could make Aldo Raine give in, it was Winona.

He sketched a smile:

"But as ya seem to me two brave women, it seems logical to me that ya stay with us!

This decision was greeted with enthusiasm by the rest of the team.

"I thank you for your help."

"No worries. After all, several of my guys are Jewish."

The young woman asked:

"Before I forget, Lieutenant Raine..."

"Yes, Miss?"

"What is your mission here?"

At these moments, she saw all the Basterds sketch a toothy grin. And the Lieutenant's answer did not hide their intentions:

"We parachuted into France for one mission and one mission only: to kill Nazis!"

Hugo asked:

"Doesn't that cause you problems?"

At these words, he saw a gleam in Ada's eye that he knew all too well. He could see the sorrow and hatred for the Nazis in her brown orbs.

And the determined tone of her voice confirmed his impression:

"On the contrary, it pleases me to hear that my people are being avenged. Hitler's foot soldiers stole my life and threatened my niece. I lost my family, and I don't know if they are alive or if those Gestapo goons shot them!"

She turned to Aldo and declared:

"Lieutenant, I know I look like a simple damsel in distress, but I want revenge. I want to make them pay for the evil they've done."

Impressed by this sudden determination, Aldo asked:

"What can ya do?"

"I'm an excellent shot, and I can fight."

"That's not so ladylike, coming from a young woman!"

Ada smiled:

"Who said I was ladylike?"

"My aunt is the best in the world... right after Mom!" pointed Maddie.

Aldo smirked and held out his hand.

"In that case, welcome to the team, Ada! Just so you know, if you join this commando, you owe me 100 Nazi scalps!"

Without hesitation, Ada grasped the outstretched hand and shook it in agreement.

"I will settle that debt, Lieutenant. And I will die trying if I have to!"

"That's what I like to hear!"

"But I want you to promise to look out for Maddie, no matter what!"

"PROMISED!" exclaimed the Basterds.

At that moment, Maddie's face lit up with an adorable smile that seemed to shine through the dim light of the Fontainebleau woods. Now she had nothing to fear from the Germans because now she had found guardian angels armed with guns and baseball bats. 

As for Ada, it was a new life for her that began. She was not a prey anymore. Now, she was the predator. 

The Germans better start running because she won't have mercy. And Ada Mandelbaum always kept her words... 

Thanks for the reading!

Stay tuned for the next chapter!

@sergeant-donny-donowitz​ @marilynmonroefanfics​ @velvet-waltz​ @ocfairygodmother​ @redrosewritingsstuff​ @empress-writes​ @jokersqueenofchaos​ (whom I thank for the German translation) @fandoms-are-my-friends-1321​ @knives-out17​ @multific​ @cherryplasmids​ @askthebasterds​ @nataschalena2​ 

[kickingitwithkirk]

Greetings From Austin

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

Word Count: 2616

Warnings: a/b/o, homophobia, bisexuality, biphobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

A/N: Here we go again with one my weird as hell dreams, series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*divider by @writeyourmindaway​​​​​​​

*images found online

Prologue

Austin, TX

Mid July

“Babe,” Jensen softly says in a low voice to the person seated next to him in the waiting room, “Babe,” he says a bit louder, still getting no response. Leaning close, he blows into their ear.

Jared starts, his “what” muffled by the finger he’s been chewing on.

“You know you can’t do that, don’t want you getting sick.” Taking his hand Jensen pulls it away from his pretty pink lips, gently caressing the finger. Jared had finally stopped chewing on his hands when Covid-19 became widespread.

“Where’s your gum?” Jared bite his lip not answering.

Sighing, Jensen shifts retrieving his pack and hands a piece to him. “What’s got you masticating again?” He inquires as Jared pops the stick in his mouth.

Jared chews the gum nervously weighing how to answer the question knowing Jensen won’t accept anything less than the whole truth. “What if something goes wrong again because of me.”

Jensen’s brow furrowed. He learned years ago that while their relationship is one of equals, he had to be lead Alpha when Jared’s mental state overwhelmed him as it had the last few weeks.

***

After the public announcement in March 2019 that season fifteen would be Supernaturals last, they had agreed when finished with the pickups they would take an extended break, return to Austin and concentrate on their marriage.

Jared intended to stop acting indefinitely, pursuing other interests and Jensen wanted to concentrate on his music.

Of course, things didn’t quite end up how they planned.

Jared entered negotiations to star in the Walker, Texas Ranger reboot, along with being an executive producer. Jensen got a call from Kripke wanting him for the role of Soldier Boy in The Boys third season.

But by March of 2020, everything came to a halt thanks to the Corona-virus.

The shutdowns left Supernaturals final two episodes with no definitive filming date and their seemingly never ending last season put their other projects on hold.

For the first time in years they had the luxury of a leisurely schedule, not having to be somewhere on a timetable, they could communicate with friends and family uninterrupted, deal with their other businesses, charities, etc, leaving most days free to enjoy being together without constraint.

But even amazing, awesome, vigorous sex on every horizontal/vertical surface that could support the two big Alphas only filled so many hours and like many couples, they started getting each others nerves and looked for other ways to stay occupied.

By late May, Jared was unable to sleep or eat, even going out of the house became a chore. When he hit a consecutive fourth day in bed, Jensen bodily dragged him into the bath for a desperately needed shower and loaded him in his truck driving to his doctor's.

Upon checking in they were told patients only allowed in the facility. Jared started panicking, saying he was having chest pains and couldn’t breath. He was rushed in with Jensen hot on their heels after morphing into an overprotective Alpha mate no one was stopping.

Jared’s doctor deduced with the lock-downs prohibiting him from his routine checkups and periodic adjustments needed to his medications triggered this episode.

The first step was to wean him off his current prescriptions and change to a newly approved, alternative regime. He was checked in a facility for ten days under observation while detoxing off his meds.

His therapist switched his twice weekly tele-counseling sessions to daily for the foreseeable future and Kodas certification as an emotional support animal was approved. His progress was slow but he was returning back to his sweet natured, big hearted, exceptionally tactical, overgrown puppy self.

When the surprise call from the clinic came a few days ago about an appointment opening, Jensen initially didn’t want it, still in his overly excessive protective Alpha mode. Jared’s outburst made him relent, fearing they were on a collision course for a major setback if he didn’t.

And Jensen, being Jensen, went overboard to ensure the appointment was absolutely private.

Part I

Jared was about to speak when a woman in scrubs called out, “Mr. Bonham and Mr. Page.” they got up crossing over to her, “Hello, I’m Sissy, Dr. Rodgers nurse, please follow me.”

They pass through the doorway leading through a maze of halls like that of any other medical clinic except this one specialized in a very specific service.

The nurse opens a door near the back of the clinic gesturing for them to enter the spacious office, “Please have a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly.” She closed the door and they sat down in the pair of chairs directly in front of the large, dark mahogany desk.

Jensen, scenting Jared’s nervousness, lifts his right hand kissing his palm, making him chuckle at the tickle of Jen’s soft beard before twining their fingers together and setting them on his left thigh, smiling reassuringly.

There was a brief knock before the door opened and an older, silver haired Beta entered. “Hello, I’m Dr. Rodgers, how are we doing today?” He asks, moving to his chair behind the desk.

Jared gave him a tight smile and Jensen remained placid.

The doctor raises an eyebrow, “Relax Mr. Page, this is just a visit to go over the paperwork before deciding about how we proceed, not the Spanish Inquisition.” Jared releases his held breath but couldn’t completely calm himself.

“I know the process can be overwhelming but I must ask, is there something we’ve done to make you uncomfortable?” Dr. Rodgers inquires.

“No, everyone’s been really nice, very professional. It’s just we..we had issues the first time we attempted to do this.” Jared finished his sentence quietly, in the recess of his mind; something bad is gonna happen and it’ll be my fault.

Jensen squeezes his hand tighter, instinctively sensing Jared’s mind was trying to spiral again, “When tried this before someone leaked our plans to the media. It wasn't ever proven the clinic was involved but...”

“We do everything possible to keep our clients anonymity protected here. All of our staff have been thoroughly vetted and sign NDA, given your professions, you're familiar with how they work. Your real identities will remain completely confidential, even if you choose to not proceed. It is why you chose this particular clinic, yes?”

“Yes, it is.” Jensen replied.

“How about we get this bit of paperwork out of the way, then we can have a more relaxed visit. I’ve gone over the applications you both submitted and have noted a few discrepancies in the medical section that need clarification before we proceed,” He opens the top file, “Mr. Bonham, why did you omit Genu Varum from your medical history?”

Jensen kept his expression neutral as he felt his stomach automatically clench. He had been mercilessly teased throughout his childhood about his bowed legs by his older brother Josh and later his buddies from school when they’d come over to hang out. By the time he was in high school Jensen’s extraordinary looks and personality were what got people’s attention first. Nowadays, many a fanfic waxed poetic about those bowed legs.

“The questionnaire inquired about inherited genetic medical conditions and since mine isn’t, I didn’t think it was necessarily applicable.” Jared hears an edge creeping into Jensen’s voice and gives their tangled fingers a quick squeeze.

“Did you see an orthopedist and were they able to determine what caused the condition? Did they suggest any surgical procedures or therapies to straighten your legs?”

“I was born a preemie, the orthopedists my parents consulted decided my condition was attributable to that.” Jensen replies tersely, dropping his vocal range. Jared gripped his hand harder, telling him to cool the attitude. “The doctor didn’t recommend surgery but sent me to physical therapy, thought it would help them straighten as I grew.”

“So no others in your immediate family have this issue?”

“Everyone my family has straight legs, including my three children.”

Jared piped in, “He hates it but he does have an exercise regimen; stretching, strength training. Oh, he also takes several different vitamins, omega oils, turmeric and extra vitamin D to support his joints.” They watched the doctor scribble a few more notes in the file before closing it.

“Mr. Page,” Jared sits up straighter in his chair, “I appreciate that you went into detail about your mental health status. I see you’ve recently been hospitalized, your medications have been changed to an alternative regiment and you’ve also increased your therapy sessions?”

Jared’s interview continued for another twenty minutes as Dr. Rodgers questioned him in depth about his depression and anxiety, feeling said anxiety ratcheting up so he focused on Jensen’s thumb rhythmically moving over his hand and used every ounce of his acting skills to appear confident and in control.

Dr. Rodgers closed his file, “I only have a few general questions left then we can discuss how you wish to proceed.”

After a more relaxed, genial conversation with the doctor, Sissy took them to a couple private rooms with paraphernalia to help stimulate them into producing a couple semen samples.

Jensen was getting close to finishing with his favorite spank-bank fantasy when he felt Jared’s frustration across their bond.

~~~

Jared couldn’t get aroused.

He felt as useless as his flaccid cock.

His doctor warned him that loss of sex drive could be a possible side effect of his new regiment until his body adjusted to it. He had struggled with temporary impotence a few times on his old meds, always fearful Jensen would finally see him as undesirable, no longer a satisfactory mate.

Rationally, he knew it was his illness causing these exceptionally hard to deal thoughts recently and the nagging idea this wasn’t the right thing for them to attempt again continually kept creeping in.

Jensen’s unspoken reluctance about having more children at his age was also weighing on his conscience, warring against his own biological longings.

They had a humongous argument when he told Jensen about taking the appointment. Jen thought this was the wrong time to attempt it again, pointing out he was just getting his equilibrium back setting Jared went off on a rant about how he no longer wanted him and would leave him like Genevieve had because he was too broken to deal with anymore.

Unmitigated anguish was written across Jensen’s beautiful features, the very notion that Jared could conceivably believe that he’d ever abandon him made his soul hurt in such a way no verbal language on earth could ever express his devastated feelings traveling across their bond.

***

Everything they’d been through; from that bar fight solidifying their friendship, Jared’s first breakdown, the years of living as roommates while secretly a couple to finding wives who understood their unique relationship and still married them both in 2010.

The joyous arrival of JJ three years later that unfortunately exacerbated Genevieve's frustration of not being able to conceive coming out with a vengeance at Jared. His unexpected breakdown in Switzerland was the final nail in their marriage. Gen was there for him but in the end it was all too much and she filed for divorce.

Shortly after, Jared’s iCloud account was hacked. It was believed, but never conclusively proven, that Gen was behind it since her lawyer was trying to break their prenuptial agreement, the videos documenting his private and explicit sexual relationship with Jensen were legally considered adulterous. In the end, the court upheld the legal document but the ramifications...

They were summoned to L.A. for the meeting from hell with WB executives, both convinced it was the end of Supernatural and their careers.

After the reaming out, they each received a weeks pay suspension to cover some of what it was gonna cost PR in time and money to deal with the inevitable repercussions and placate the show's sponsors.

How would the show’s fans react? Would they still be able to accept them as brothers only on TV while in real life they were involved in a highly stigmatized relationship?

When they returned to work there was an atmosphere of tension that hadn’t existed before. It was an open secret that all shows had their share of bitchiness and backstabbing behind the scenes. Jensen may have the thicker skin, keeping tighter control on his emotions, but Jared knew it hurt him just as deeply the loss of some of their friends because of prejudicial, social beliefs that two Alpha males shouldn’t be involved.

Jensen’s parents showed up unexpectedly in Vancouver a few weeks later. What started out as a not quite comfortable visit quickly deteriorated with his religiously conservative parents. They had not raised him like this and blamed Jared, saying he had corrupted him, leading him into a sinful lifestyle. He needed to repent and return to his wife to whom he had made a commitment before god.

Jensen blew up, replying it was none of their business, it was between them and oh, yeah, Danneel knew about them before marrying him and they better not say anything to her. Without another word his parents left. When he later called them to make amends, his mother coolly stated that he was no longer part of their family and to never contact them again.

Three months after the twins were born in 2016 came the finalization of Jensen’s divorce from Danneel, painful but congenial. They easily agreed on joint custody and still spent most holidays together. Jensen gave Dani financial security in their settlement, he wanted to make sure she didn’t have to worry about working again unless she wanted to.

All these years later, Jared continually has nagging thoughts that they had let everybody down. They received support when they publicly came out as bisexual then lost some of it when they married, being mocked for not coming out as gay.

***

There was another knock at the door and Jared ignored it, it was that nurse checking on his lack of progress again. The knock turned into pounding, “Jared, open this door now dammit!” He flinched realizing Jensen knew what was going on with him. Releasing the privacy latch and opening the door a crack he saw concerned green eyes only.

“Sorry, I thought you were that nurse,” he stepped away and sat back down as Jensen came in and re-latching it behind him. “She came to get me when you stopped answering,” Jensen said, walking over to him and started running his thick fingers through his husband’s long hair, “what’s going on babe?”

He glances up knowing that Jensen already knew, “It’s okay Jay, take as long as you need.” He paused at the unpleasant scent wafting around him. “If you’d be more comfortable we could do this at home…” Jared shakes his head, “There’s the risk of damage, contamination and or not able to get it back in time that could make the semen unusable.” Jared quotes from a website.

Jensen softly chuckled, “Nerd.”

Jared notices the bulge in his jeans, “You didn’t...”

“Drain the snake..choke the chicken..spank the monkey.”

“Fuck, okay, you didn’t! Stop using old man slang.” He shook his head smiling  at Jensen intentionally goading him.

Jared reached up for the hand playing in his hair, grasping it to draw Jensen down next to him.

“Jack, I don’t want to wait any longer on doing this. I love JJ and the twins, you know I do, but they'll always be yours and Danneels. I know the timing could be better... but I'm almost thirty-eight and I want my..our own pups running around the house driving us crazy.”

“For the next eighteen years?”

“Minimum.”

tbc

Part II

SPN: @donnaintx​​​​​​​​​​​​ @lyarr24

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

[allthingsfern]

Finally took some pictures, as life goes on

On Saturday, 01-16-21, a little after 2:30 pm, I happened to see the title of an article about how US state capitol buildings were being protected by temporary fences and other barriers and by police and military forces in case of armed terrorist attacks by US white supremacist terrorists and other right wing extremists, attacks against US democracy similar to the insurgency at the US Capitol on 01-06-21.

Davis, CA, where I live, is a small, liberal, middle class college town that is about 12 miles from Sacramento, the state capital city of California. The California State Capitol building is about 15 miles from Davis. Every so often I rent a car 9or sometimes take the train) to go and take photos around there, plus there are great restaurants in Sacramento, close to the capitol building, and even Mike’s Camera, where I bought my 2 Sonys and where I buy most of my camera gear, is close to the capitol.

Anyway, I rented a car and drove to the capitol, getting there at around 3:30 pm. It was mostly deserted, except for small groups of soldiers and/or police officers and the usual joggers, tourists taking smartphone photos of the scene and selfies, residents of the area walking their dogs. Oh, and a surprise bunch of folks I will talk about later. And there were police and military vehicles.

The whole scene, for me, was disturbing, because it took me back to post-1959 Havana and the military presence visible throughout because of ongoing contra-Castro sabotage and the fear, starting in mid to late 1960, of a US led invasion. Many regular citizens were often dressed in military uniforms while they did volunteer security checks and stood watch, prepared for any attacks. My dad, who supported the new regime until April 16, 1961, the day Castro declared his nascent administration “comunista y socialista,” coincidentally the day before the Bay of Pigs fiasco. Both my parents supported the Castro government until that day.

I also recall seeing anti-aircraft guns along El Malecon, Havana’s renowned “broad esplanade, roadway, and seawall that stretches for 8 km along the coast in Havana, Cuba, from the mouth of Havana Harbor in Old Havana, along the north side of the Centro Habana neighborhood and the Vedado neighborhood, ending at the mouth of the Almendares River.“ (Source) And after the “French freighter La Coubre exploded in the harbour of Havana, Cuba, on 4 March 1960,” I recall my parents taking us on a small wooden water taxi to see what was left. BTW, the explosion occurred “while it was unloading 76 tons of grenades and munitions. Casualties may have been as high as 100, and many more were injured. Fidel Castro charged it was an act of sabotage on the part of the United States, which denied any involvement.” (Source) 1960 and 1961 was a period of constant fear, every so often hearing explosions at a distance, seeing the armed presence of military alertness, all the while having to hide the fact that my sister and I were leaving the country; my parents and newborn sister were able to get out in 1962. And then, once in the US, there was the 8 months of separation, the total disavowal by our pro-Castro family in Cuba, the fear that my parents and baby sister might not be allowed to leave, and soon after my parents and sister arrived, there came the October Missile Crisis.

On Saturday 01-16-21, all of that kept popping up, physically making me hyper aware, stirring up my little Cuban refugee anxieties and my childhood struggle to make sense out of what made no sense. Yet, that all my past pain and confusion and fear also grounded me in a faith of knowing I was going to be okay, the small groups of soldiers and/or police officers and the usual joggers, tourists taking smartphone photos of the scene and selfies, residents of the area walking their dogs were all going to be okay, the whole thing, the whole country, all of us were going to be okay.

So, I walked around. I asked the first small group of soldiers I saw if it was okay to take pictures of them and the surrounding area and they said it was okay, that I was only the second person to ask, which they appreciated, but most people just took pictures or video of whatever. They were very polite and seemed relieved to have a moment of civil conversation. And yes, I also thanked them for being in the front lines. And I walked around.

I think I got a couple of good photos of people being people, but I was especially blown away by the one group that, I guess, was a big a family, with parents, kids, cousins, aunts, uncles, all dressed in formal wear, posing in front of a young woman, also all dressed up, who was taking their photos with a nice setup that included a tripod. I guess the photos were for a wedding or a quinceañera. They were on the steps of a government building across the street form the capitol building. And what blew my mind was that to their right were 3 soldiers, standing guard, fully armed and ready, while they also watched the photo shoot. See, the capitol and its surrounding gardens and buildings are often used for backdrops for graduation, quinceañera, wedding, and family portraits.

My stormy emotions and painful memories were calmed by that family, by the usual joggers, tourists taking smartphone photos of the scene and selfies, residents of the area walking their dogs, all being people, And yes, by the very polite soldiers. And the beauty of the capitol and its gardens and buildings also soothed my anxiety. All those people in that lovely place reminded that life goes on. See, even during the violence and uncertainty of my childhood, life went on. My parents went to work. I went to school, played games, my family got together, we went to the beach, had fun. I watched One Step Beyond and Flash Gordon and Rosita Fornes and Betty Boop and Perry Mason and Pepe Biondi on our little B&W TV set. While the 1959 Revolution and the contra-Castro aftermath raged on, we went to the movies, had fun.

Life went one.

Really, kinda like now, during the COVID19 pandemic and political and social upheaval.

Life goes on.

[cherryplasmids]

☆ not today, but one day ☆

pairing: donny donowitz x reader fandom: inglourious basterds—operation kino doesn’t exist anon requested: Hello, I have loved all of your Donny Donowitz stories!! If you are taking requests, could you write a fluffy and/or angsty post fight piece? Thank you!! notes: mentions hiding jewish children  — check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

        Moving to an occupied France with Donny at the height of the world war defied your expectations. Not even in your wildest dreams did you want to be near such chaos. Unfortunately, your fiancé did. He enthusiastically signed up to be a Basterd alongside his best friend, Aldo Raine, which meant he would be leaving the U.S to help end the war. Donny desperately wanted you to join him in France. But downtown Boston had factories opening up at a rapid pace, ensuring job security for you and money for the future. But Donny is an unrelenting man. His ceaseless begging eventually wore you down. Within a few months, you were on a plane heading to France with the rest of the Basterds.

Luckily, one of Aldo's informants owned a bakery near their secret location. The owner of the bakery, Benoit, opened a job up for you immediately. You would help serve customers while being a spy. All you would have to do is act ditzy and fawn over officers to gain information. Although the act disgusted you, it was simple enough. Turns out, officers are more willing to boast about their exploits as long as you smile and flirt. You didn't have to do much before they began talking your ear off.

Soon enough, though, the seemingly easy job turned for the worst. Benoit began hiding Jewish children. Of course, you kept a tight lip about the situation and helped him care for the orphaned girls while he cared for the boys. The issue revolved around the officers. They had suspicions of Benoit right in the beginning and began ransacking the bakery almost every day. You and Benoit spent more time cleaning up the place than actually baking or making a profit. After a few months, Benoit completely disappeared. With him gone, you were left in charge of both the bakery and the children.

The responsibilities thrust upon you slowly ate at you. The only time you felt some inkling of normalcy was with Donny. However, he too went M.I.A.

The day he came back to you with blood covering his bat and a smile adorning his lips, you were fuming. As soon as he went to hug you, you snapped. As a result, a verbal argument began and lasted for almost an hour. 80% of the fight did not make any sense. You did more crying than anything else. But your anger and fear caused incoherent thoughts to be screamed. Once you realized you weren't getting your message through, you stormed off to cool down.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

          It's nighttime, about 2 hours after the argument, when Donny decides to talk. You're in the kitchen, smoking Gauloises and staring out the window. You don't make any moves to acknowledge him when he calls out to you. Instead, you shift in the window nook and twirl the lit cigarette between your lips. A moment of silence passes before you hear the floorboards creak under his heavy boots. He pulls out a chair from the nearby table and sits down. That's when you look at him. He folds his hands on top of the table and opens his mouth to speak. You lazily watch him, both disinterested and irritated that’s he’s even here. When you told him you wanted space, you meant for the entire night. You shouldn't be surprised, though. After all, Donny is a clingy man. You're just a little amazed he lasted this long, especially after being gone for so long.

He starts off by saying your name in a gentle tone before cutting himself off. Shaking his head, he tries to start again. But after several attempts at forming a coherent thought, he gets frustrated enough to make moves to leave.

You take pity on him and remove the cigarette from your lips. "How was the trip?"

"Good. Smithson shot his foot accidentally. We got delayed a bit, but still had a good time."

"Scalp anyone?"

Donny puffs out his chest in pride. "Of course! 23 scalps in the bag. I got the most."

A little smirk tugs at your lips. "Good boy."

Another beat of silence passes. He shifts in his seat and his leg begins to bounce. "I'm sorry, doll. I just act without thinking sometimes. You know that."

You turn to him. “I do, but you can’t keep using that as an excuse.”

“I’m not trying to—“

Your sharp glare shuts him downs. “I’m constantly on edge, Donny. With the bakery being investigated almost daily, I’m drowning in fear. I don’t want to the possibility of you being dead running amok in my head.”

His eyes steel and his hands clench into a fist. “Yeah because what I do is a damn cakewalk.”

“I never said that, so don’t go around twisting my words.” You sigh deeply and inhale smoke from the cigarette. “Three weeks, Donny. Three damn weeks of wondering whether or not you're dead. Do you know what that does to someone?” You press the cigarette head onto the ashtray, watching the embers fizz out.

Donny reaches out and grabs both of your hands. His thumbs begin to caress your skin in circular motions. The slight irritation and sadness in your chest simmers down as a result.

“I'm sorry, doll. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Tears brim at your lower lashes. Donny gets up from his seat to console you. His burly arms blanket you, securing you in safety you haven’t felt in a long time.

Your tears fall freely onto his white tank top. You clench onto him as you murmur to him. “I’m so scared, Don.”

He squeezes you, attempting to convey his reassurance. “Let us win the war, baby. Then we’ll go back to Boston and have the biggest wedding ever. Pop-out a few kids and retire. We’ll be safe and happy, just like how we were before the war.”

You sniffle and nod, muttering some words he can’t quite hear. “Come on, doll. Let’s get you to bed.”He picks you up in bridal style and begins walking toward your shared bedroom.

You trust Donny's words. He’ll win the war—tear down the regime right from the top. It’ll take some time but until then, you got to hold on. Save yourself from spiraling for the sake of yourself and the children under your protection.

Safety and comfort will come soon. It might not be today or tomorrow, but one day. That hope alone will keep you going.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,077 published: june 16, 2020 edited: n/a

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 33

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 33: The End of the Committee

PLEASE LOOK AT THE POSTERS I MADE FOR THIS STORY

You, Kylo, the lieutenant, and the general enter the room. If you thought everyone was on their best behavior for the general, then they were trying to act like saints in the presence of the Supreme Leader. You were sure that it was mostly fear rather than respect that they held for him.

You took your normal seat as did the general, but Kylo took the seat at the head of the conference room table where Dr. Koroban normally sat and the doctor sat next to you replacing the lieutenant who now stood behind you against the wall. Even though the lieutenant was not by your side he was still doing his job, seeing as a fresh cup of stimcaf was placed in front of you.

Usually, before the meetings began there was light chatter, not this time. The room was dead with silence before Dr. Koroban spoke, “it is an honor to be joined by you today Supreme Leader, we much look forward to seeing what you do with all of the work that this committee has done.”

Kylo, ever so intimidating just raised his head and simply ordered, “proceed.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader. On the agenda today we will be discussing mandatory vaccinations and exercise. Along with wrapping up the entirety of the committee,” said Dr. Koroban.

“Shall we start with the mandatory vaccinations,” asked Dr. Dabrini. Of everyone in the room, he, Dr. Koroban, and the general seemed most relaxed in Kylo’s presence. All of the other officers and medical staff were sitting ramrod straight in their chairs and seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.

“That should be the best course of action. What are the current standards right now on the planet,” asked Hux. You could tell that he was reading the room as he was saying it. As a way to help ease the tension from the lower officers.

“Currently vaccination requirements are all over the place on the planet. Every military requires up to date immunization for their soldiers, but the country with the most rigorous policy is that of Slovenia. While a medical exemption request can be submitted to a committee, such an application for reasons of religion or conscience wouldn’t be acceptable and isn’t allowed,” said Dr. Dabrini.

“So, according to First Order Health Standards and Procedures, this will drastically need to change. But I believe we already knew that. Currently, most people have willingly received their vaccinations through the health stations, but it remains to be seen how many of them will need to be mandated into receiving them,” said a higher-ranking officer. With Kylo remaining to be quiet you could tell some of the officers were becoming more comfortable by the minute.

“Lady Ren, what is your take on this,” asked Hux. Kylo’s helmet turned towards you previously he seemed to be staring at the wall ahead of him. Because of the helmet, you were unsure as to if he was paying attention or not, but he sure was now at least to you.

“I currently don’t have a problem with mandatory vaccinations. Unless someone has a health reason to be exempt from vaccinations, in any case, those people should be protected by the herd immunity effect. As that is who herd immunity is supposed to protect. I’m all for these mandatory vaccinations so go right ahead,” you said. If you could see Kylo’s eyes you were pretty sure they were dead set on you. When you were finished speaking he nodded and everyone took this for approval.

“We shall do just that m’lady,” said Dr. Koroban. “Shall we move on to exercise before lunch is served?” He looked around for approval, everyone nodded in agreement except for Hux and Kylo who were just looking at you.

“Yes, I believe last time I voiced my concerns for mandatory exercise, especially in private homes. Now I haven’t seen how the First Order education affects most people on this planet but I can promise you that making a mandatory exercise regime for citizens in their private lives will not end well,” you were trying to be confident. “I think that a suggested regime may be something you need to consider, it will go over better all-around. Many nations found suggestions better in past war efforts than everything being mandatory, especially in private homes.”

“But m’lady there is a desperate need for weightloss reform in many of your ‘first world’ countries, we need to do something more, something obligatory. Otherwise, there will be no change. We need exercise to go along with diet, nothing will change for these people unless we do it for them,” said a high-ranking officer.

“I didn’t say you had to do nothing, just leave the mandated watching out of it. Maybe there is a need for an incentive program. Something for people to get excited about. Maybe something like their name rolling across the broadcast screen at the end of a successful month? Something they can brag about to their friends. It might even start competitions to see who is a better citizen, keeping up with the jones as we like to say,” you responded. You knew that they wouldn’t give it up so easily. You were just hoping that they could make people think that they had freedom, even if the way things were starting to look like they didn’t.

“You believe it to be that simple,” asked the general. You could hear the doubt in his voice even if you didn’t see the doubt in his eyes.

“No, I don’t but this directly deals with behavior in a different way than many of the other things we have discussed. This program will need readjusting as it goes along. You will need to evaluate consistently, maybe the reward will need to be bigger, maybe eventually it needs to become mandatory, but implementing another mandatory thing that affects behavior will not help you right now,” you countered. Even though you didn’t know how the general populace was feeling right now you had no doubt that people might be scared. You were worried for them, the general populace, you were at least safe by Kylo’s side, with his nights, or onboard the ship, but you couldn’t say that for others.

“I see. So we do as you suggest for let’s say six months then we readjust to figure out if making it mandatory is necessary. I think we could agree to postpone it for at least those six months, but only with the Supreme Leader’s approval,” said Dr. Koroban who then turned his head to look at Kylo for approval.

Kylo didn’t turn to acknowledge the man sitting next to you. Throughout the whole discussion, his attention was placed firmly on you, however, he waved his hand to acknowledge that he was fine with the decision made by the  Finalizer’s doctor.  

“Well then we better move on to lunch before we start our wrap up,” said Dr. Koroban. He then made a motion to one of the junior officers who let in a group of them carrying crome cloches and large platters.

Everyone had been served and the junior officers removed the cloches on everyone’s food except Kylo’s. You watched as the younger officers looked to the doctors and the general as to what to do, they all began to eat so they took it as a sign to do so. You were not comfortable with this. Kylo was going to keep his helmet on the whole time? No, you were going to fix this.

You turned to the junior officer behind you, waiting on you and asked her if she could bring your plate down to the red sitting room. “Supreme Leader, would you like to join me in the Red Room for lunch seeing as we won’t be discussing anything until afterward?”

Kylo merely nodded and gestured to the junior officer behind him to take his lunch as well. You got up and left the room heading down the hall to your usual sitting room. The junior officers and Kylo were right behind you along with another junior officer bringing a table. They set up your lunch and left before shutting the door.

They left you alone with Kylo.

He took off his mask before saying, “Thank you, although it isn’t the first time I have had to skip a meal in the presence of others.” He then started to dig into the rather delicious looking meal that had been served.

You were shocked, but you laughed despite it. “I don’t think you should be skipping eating at a health committee meeting, seems pretty contradictory don’t you think?”

Kylo looked up through his lashes at you from while leaning over his plate, “you’re right. But I need to keep up appearances. One of the reasons why my knights and I wear the mask is for intimidation and power. The reason why I wear it to meetings is that people question me less, Hux is one of the few who has the guts to question my tactics while it is on.”

“And do you appreciate that? That he has the guts to do so?”

“Some times, other times he can be rather annoying,” he sniggered out.

You could tell by his relaxed posture that he was enjoying himself. He carried himself differently even if he didn’t like to think so. You were happy that you two had this moment in the middle of the stressful meeting, but you knew it was going to come to an end soon as you both finished your lunches and would have to head back into the meeting.

You and Kylo stood, he took your arm and then placed his helmet on his head with one hand. You wondered if he used the Force for assistance or if his hands were so large that he didn’t need the help. Either way, a part of you was sad when the helmet went on. It was like clouds covering the beauty of the moon, and you an evening primrose desperate for its gleam to touch your petals. All you wanted to do was dance in his night but you needed to return to the day, to the meeting.

You could hear light chatter from outside the room which died as soon as you both entered. His helmet and his presence seemed to be working to their full effect. You took your respective seats.

“With your permission Supreme Leader, we should begin,” said Dr. Koroban.

Kylo simply waved his hand once more and almost everyone in the room shifted in their chairs,

“Currently we have made an effort to produce programs on health. Things like daily hygiene, healthy eating, sickness prevention, and injury prevention. We have also discussed sex and reproductive safety, this has been dealt with now completely by the  Supremacy  as per the Supreme Leader’s orders .   We have decided today that we will have mandatory forced vaccinations, with the exception of medical needs. And we have decided on an exercise regime that will need to be evaluated throughout its course,” said Dr. Dabrini.

“With the help of Lady Ren and Petty Officer Tanau we sent off a number of posters and videos as examples to the  Supremacy.  They answered back with many notes and several campaigns to start here on earth,” said Dr. Koroban.

A projector then started to reveal a presentation on the walls around you. First up was a poster for daily hygiene. “While we may use some of the posters that have been sent, the  Supremacy  has made some of their own as you can see here and here. They agreed with the videos that were sent over as other research on this planet seems to favor the old-time nostalgia that these might bring,” said Dr. Dabrini.

The projector then went to show the various posters that had been sent over previously, “while we now these sicknesses prevention techniques could be expanded upon, we think starting with school-aged children will be the best option as they spread sickness around the most,” said Dr. Koroban.

“Injury prevention has lead to videos like this  one and this  one . Along with the need for every industry to have its own safety precautions. But as Lady Ren pointed out there are government agencies that already do this very well. The  Supremacy  has only made one example poster for this. They will be working with the agencies in place to bring the safety up to First Order Standards,” said Dr. Dabrini.

“That should conclude all health and safety topics, does this meet your approval Supreme Leader,” asked Dr. Koroban.

Kylo’s vocoder stated out a harsh, “yes” to answer the aging doctor’s question. There was a look of pride on the doctor’s face, a look that seemed as if you just told him that he had cured cancer. Almost to overjoyed.

“That concludes the Health Committee. I would like to thank everyone’s helo on this, especially that of you Lady Ren. The planet here will be healthier because of us,” said Dr. Koroban in conclusion.

You all stood up to leave. Everyone waited for the Supreme Leader to leave first, he then just paused next to you taking your arm. You entered the hallway and were greeted by General Pryde.“Supreme Leader I have the list of behavioral videos that you and the rest of the First Order High Command have requested. It will only take a few minutes for you to approve them, I have already run them by the Allegiant General.”  

General Hux paused near you, “I have already confirmed that the list of videos would be most beneficial for the populace. The posters are what need the most of your approval. A few simple new recruitment ones based off of similar ones found here on this planet. This one that deals with finding members of the Resistance and one on Stormtrooper behavior.” Pryde handed Kylo a datapad with a list of recruitment posters and videos.

Let’s be Good Citizen’s at School (1953)

Are You a Good Citizen? (1949)

Law and Social Controls (1949)

School Rules

Improve Your Personality (1951)

Everyday Manners

Right or Wrong

How to Keep a Job (1949)

You and Your Work (1948)

Personality and Emotions (1954 )

Habit Patterns (1954)

Obligations (1950)

The Procrastinator (1952)

Wastage of Human Resources

You peeked over Kylo’s shoulder at the data pad. The general had procured an extensive list, by the titles of the videos nothing seemed to harmful. They reminded you of videos your health teacher might have a substitute play when they were gone, or on days you couldn’t go outside for recess. The posters seemed alright, recruitment like but over Kylo’s shoulder you couldn’t read the text of the one titled: How and What to tell a Rebel.

“These are acceptable. Have them sent off to the  Supremacy  for a final inspection.” With the helmet on you couldn’t tell if he was unimpressed or not.

You could tell by the way he positioned that Hux was slightly guarding you from the gray-haired general.  

“I hope these will also please you m’lady. I would like to thank you for suggesting the Library of Congress to us, it has been very helpful in my research,” said Pryde. He had a smile reminiscent of an antique doll that you had once seen in a thrift shop, one that’s eyes seemed to follow you where ever you went.

Hux’s eyes flicked and seemingly shared a look with Kylo like they were having a silent conversation.

“You are welcome general, I am glad that it helped the First Order,” you replied. You griped Kylo’s arm a bit tighter, hoping that he would get the hint that you wanted to leave. You wanted to get away from the older general, who’s eyes hid some thirst behind them, what that thirst was you did not want to know.

Kylo took the hint and maneuvered you through the halls and back to the shuttle, you were only accompanied by the knights, the lieutenant and the redheaded general. You felt at ease in their presence. You took off for the  Steadfast  ready for your next lesson.

[tes-trash-blog]

🌙 hmm... an age old question but opinion on the whole Imperials Vs Stormcloaks fiasco Skyrim tried to feed us?

*cracks neck*

Goodbye follower count, I’m going in!

I’m going to preface this with a confession: In my first ever playthrough of Skyrim (2014), I did side with the Imperials. On my second, I sided with the Stormcloaks. Since then, I have done three more playthroughs on the Stormcloak side, and three more on the Imperial side. In four more still my Dragonborn was neutral, slaying Alduin without ever taking a side. In my playthroughs, especially the ones after 2016, I’ve developed my own opinions about the Imperials and Stormcloaks alike.

In order to better articulate my opinion, we must first briefly examine four factors: the American landscape in which Skyrim was conceived, Skyrim itself and its portrayal of the Imperials and Stormcloaks (and the Thalmor), and Umberto Eco, the usage of terms like “fascism” and especially “Nazism” in American popular culture, and how this all relates to the Imperial/Stormcloak fiasco.

So let’s get started.

Part 1: Thanks, Obama.

In 2008, Barack Obama was elected as the 44th President of the United States. It was a landslide victory against Republican runner John McCain, a conserative who frequently brought up his service in the Vietnam War (and his time as a prisoner of war) during his campaign, as well as his years of service in political office. In a move to make his (very white, very male) campaign seem more inclusive in the face of the frontrunners of the Democratic campaign (Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama), he appointed Sarah Palin as his VP. She was the only conservative woman who agreed to be his running mate, as all three  conservative women in the Senate already said no, and the Republicans couldn’t find a black conservative.

(I’m not making this up.)

Anyway, come 2008, the conservatives lose their goddamn minds because Bush’s reign of actual terror was over, a Black man is now President and Whiteness is in peril. This was before the term “triggered” became a popular sneer in the conservative dictionary, but “snowflake” was used a lot. Come 2009, the Tea Party emerges. And now we get to the crux of my, uh, observation.

For the young, uninitiated, or non-Americans who are thinking “What the fuck is wrong with America”, the Tea Party Movement was/is a rash of hardline rightwingers who, still licking their wounds from a sound beating by the Democrats in the 2008 election, sought to rebrand themselves. With some bootstrap lifting and millions of dollars in funding from media tycoons such as the Koch brothers, the Tea Party made its official debut in 2010 after the signing of the Affordable Healthcare Act. Their message was simple: It’s time to take America back from the lazy, the entitled, and the “uppity”. What was really just a rehash of a song and dance that’s been turning its ugly white head since at least 1964 gained something of a stranglehold on America, in spite of its relatively small size of active members. It hit all the notes: a populist movement rooted in the perceived threats to their faith, their culture, and their social and economic capital.

They also believed shit like this:

For instance, Tea Partiers are more likely than other conservatives to agree with statements such as “If blacks would only try harder they could be just as well off as whites,” and are more likely to disagree with statements like “Generations of slavery and discrimination have created conditions that make it difficult for blacks to work their way out of the lower class.” (Williamson, 34)

Like I said. Since 1964.

What made the Tea Party different from the other conservative temper tantrums was one thing: Internet access. All of a sudden, these angry white men had an outlet for voicing their rages, and an open recruiting forum for other malcontents and disaffected youths. I’m not implying the Tea Party had anything to do with Gamergate, nor that Gamergate had anything to do with the rise of the alt-right or whatever these tennybopper neo-Nazis are calling themselves now, but I am saying those circles at least touch in a Venn diagram.

“But tes-trash-blog! What do the machinations of American politics have to do with Elves?” you may ask. Well dear reader, this leads me to..

Part 2: Hey, you! You’re finally awake!

Skyrim was an overnight hit. On release, The Elder Scrolls 5 generated 450 million dollars on its opening weekend alone. This game sold for around 20 million copies, not including Special Edition, VR, or Switch, and continues to see an average of around 10,000 players a week 9 years later (Steamcharts).

And 20 million people see one thing first: A strong, noble Nord in captivity, telling you that you’re on your way to be executed by the Imperials, who are in bed with a scary, sneering bunch of High Elves dressed in black.  20 million people already were told who was the clear bad guy in this game, and it wasn’t the strong, noble Nord in captivity. I’ll be going into this more into Part 3, but suffice to say, the Imperials were already coded as Bad Guy by association. The Imperials decided to execute you, the player. They shot a man in the back because he ran from his own execution. He stole a horse, which was a crime punishable by death in those days. The game doesn’t tell you that part, and is content to say that Lokir was killed because he was in the same cart as the Stormcloaks.

Speaking of Imperials, the Third Empire is written as obtuse, corrupt, uncaring, and cruel. The Septim Dynasty is wrought with scandal and intrigue, plagued by conflict, and powerless to do anything about the Oblivion Crisis that almost ended the world. They flat out abandoned Morrowind and Summerset to better protect their own, offered no help during the Void Nights that destabilized the Khajiit, and worst of all, signed a treaty outlawing Talos worship. That is the crux on which the Stormcloak/Imperial conflict lies. These damned outsiders telling these humble Nords what to do and what not to do. They’re corrupt, lazy, and know nothing of the hardships these people endure, and now the nanny state Empire is telling them they don’t have the freedom to worship what they want? How dare they!

Going further, in the seat of Imperial power in Skyrim is none other than Jarl Elisif, a young widow who relies heavily on the advice of her (overwhelmingly male) thanes, stewards, and generals. She’s weak, thinks mostly of her dead husband, and is written as someone who overreacts to scenarios; the “legion of troops” to Wolfskull Cave over a farmer reporting strange noises, banning the Burning of King Olaf in the wake of her husband’s murder via Shout come to mind. Compare and contrast that to the seat of Stormcloak power, Windhelm. Ulfric spends his time pouring over the map of troop movements and discussing strategy when he’s not delivering his big damn “Why I Fight” speech. Elisif is weak, Ulfric is strong. The Jarl of Solitude is even told to tone it down during the armistice negotiations in Season Unending. She’s chastised by her own general. The first thing you see in Solitude is a man being executed for opening a gate. The first thing you see in Windhelm is two Nords harassing a Dark Elf woman and accusing her of being an Imperial spy.

Both are portrayed as horrific, but only one has bystanders decrying the acts of the offender. Only one has a relative in the crowd proclaim, “That’s my brother [they’re executing]!” The best you get with Suvaris is her confronting you about whether or not you “hate her kind”. Even a mouth breathing racist would be disinclined to say “yes” when confronted with the question of whether or not they’re racist, but that’s how the writers of Skyrim think racism works.

I acknowledge that this was an attempt at bothsidesism, but the handling was.. clumsy.

Part 3: Ur-Fascism, Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Bash The Stormcloaks

And now we move on to Umberto Eco, fiction writer, essayist, and writer of the famous essay Ur-Fascism. In short, Eco summarizes 14 separate properties of a fascist movement; it’s important to stress that this should not be treated as a checklist if a piece of media is fascist, or if a person is actually a Nazi, or to say “X is Bad Because Checklist”. It’s frankly impossible to even organize these points into a coherent system, as fascism is an ideology that is, by its nature, incoherent.

With that in mind, let’s run down the points:

1. “The Cult of Tradition”, characterized by cultural syncretism, even at the risk of internal contradiction. When all truth has already been revealed by Tradition, no new learning can occur, only further interpretation and refinement.

2. “The Rejection of Modernism”, which views the rationalistic development of Western culture since the Enlightenment as a descent into depravity. Eco distinguishes this from a rejection of superficial technological advancement, as many fascist regimes cite their industrial potency as proof of the vitality of their system.

3. “The Cult of Action for Action’s Sake”, which dictates that action is of value in itself, and should be taken without intellectual reflection. This, says Eco, is connected with anti-intellectualism and irrationalism, and often manifests in attacks on modern culture and science.

4. “Disagreement Is Treason” – Fascism devalues intellectual discourse and critical reasoning as barriers to action, as well as out of fear that such analysis will expose the contradictions embodied in a syncretistic faith.

5. “Fear of Difference", which fascism seeks to exploit and exacerbate, often in the form of racism or an appeal against foreigners and immigrants.

6. “Appeal to a Frustrated Middle Class”, fearing economic pressure from the demands and aspirations of lower social groups.

7. “Obsession with a Plot” and the hyping-up of an enemy threat. This often combines an appeal to xenophobia with a fear of disloyalty and sabotage from marginalized groups living within the society (such as the German elite’s ‘fear’ of the 1930s Jewish populace’s businesses and well-doings, or any anti-Semitic conspiracy ever).

8. Fascist societies rhetorically cast their enemies as “at the same time too strong and too weak.” On the one hand, fascists play up the power of certain disfavored elites to encourage in their followers a sense of grievance and humiliation. On the other hand, fascist leaders point to the decadence of those elites as proof of their ultimate feebleness in the face of an overwhelming popular will.

9. “Pacifism is Trafficking with the Enemy” because “Life is Permanent Warfare” – there must always be an enemy to fight. Both fascist Germany under Hitler and Italy under Mussolini worked first to organize and clean up their respective countries and then build the war machines that they later intended to and did use, despite Germany being under restrictions of the Versailles treaty to NOT build a military force. This principle leads to a fundamental contradiction within fascism: the incompatibility of ultimate triumph with perpetual war.

10. “Contempt for the Weak”, which is uncomfortably married to a chauvinistic popular elitism, in which every member of society is superior to outsiders by virtue of belonging to the in-group. Eco sees in these attitudes the root of a deep tension in the fundamentally hierarchical structure of fascist polities, as they encourage leaders to despise their underlings, up to the ultimate Leader who holds the whole country in contempt for having allowed him to overtake it by force.

11. “Everybody is Educated to Become a Hero”, which leads to the embrace of a cult of death. As Eco observes, “[t]he Ur-Fascist hero is impatient to die. In his impatience, he more frequently sends other people to death.”

12. “Machismo”, which sublimates the difficult work of permanent war and heroism into the sexual sphere. Fascists thus hold “both disdain for women and intolerance and condemnation of nonstandard sexual habits, from chastity to homosexuality.”

13. “Selective Populism” – The People, conceived monolithically, have a Common Will, distinct from and superior to the viewpoint of any individual. As no mass of people can ever be truly unanimous, the Leader holds himself out as the interpreter of the popular will (though truly he dictates it). Fascists use this concept to delegitimize democratic institutions they accuse of “no longer represent[ing] the Voice of the People.”

14. “Newspeak” – Fascism employs and promotes an impoverished vocabulary in order to limit critical reasoning.

I did copy and paste the list from Wikipedia, but you can read the full essay here. It’s 9 pages long. You can do it, I have faith in you.

You may notice that you can’t really shorthand these concepts, or at least not in an aesthetically pleasing way. However, you can point to the most infamous of fascist regimes and take their aesthetic instead. You see it in Star Wars with the Empire (hmm) and the First Order, in Star Trek with the Mirrorverse and the Cardassian Dominion (hmm), and in the.. Oh, it’s on the tip of my tongue..

Oh, yeah. The Thalmor. They dress in dark colors, are a foreign power trying to exert their influence on the downtrodden Nord, enact purges, and scream about Elven superiority. The Thalmor express every surface level perception of a Nazi in American popular culture. TVTropes has already pretty well covered this ground in their Video Games section of A Nazi By Any Other Name, so I won’t go too much into here seeing as I’m already at the 2000 word mark. Suffice to say, it’s hard to think Bethesda wasn’t trying to make the player associate the 4th Era Altmer with the 1930’s German.

And in doing so, they accidentally created a group that is.. Well, you’ve read the essay or at least the 14 points. Try and tell me how many of them don’t apply to Nordic culture. What grabs me the most are points 9, 11, and 13: life is a perpetual struggle in which you must emerge victorious, a culture of Heroes impatient to die in a glorious fashion, and the Common Will that is enacted and reinforced by one strongman leader. You see these elements in play in Nord culture, in Stormcloak ideology especially. I, for one, hear what Galmar really means when he says “We will make Skyrim beautiful again”. I hear the echoes in George W Bush’s speeches and McCain’s campaign when Ulfric talks of duty and service, of “fighting because Skyrim needs heroes, and there’s no one else but us.”

It’s less of a dog whistle and more of a foghorn if you ask me. And to go back to part 2, this is a message that 20 million played. Not all of them are Stormcloak stans, but that compelling message was still present. Americans love being a strongman hero in their media; we eat that shit up. The setup was enough: you’re a lone hero about to be executed by milquetoast Imperials and Nazi-coded Thalmor. The story was enough: a strong man rebels against a system gone awry, one that seeks to destroy his way of life. 

It was enough to compel a “fashwave” artist to take on the monkier Stormcloak(Hann). It was enough that Skyrim was lauded as a “real” game instead of say, Depression Quest, and to justify ruining a game developer’s life over it.

It was enough that when Skyrim came out in 2011, the game did not do so well in Germany because of these elements, because the game was written for you to be sympathetic towards these very white, very blond and Ayran-coded Nords. I can’t speak for the popularity of the game now in Germany, but when I lived there, there were a few raised eyebrows among my age group about the message of the game.

I think about that a lot, especially when the tesblr discourse heats up about the Stormcloaks. I see how visibly upset people get when someone throws shade at Ulfric. The talk of “it’s just a video game” and “lul get triggered” starts to look less like passive dismissal and shoddy trolling and more a kind of funhouse mirror to how they really think.

I can’t lie, it reminds me so much of 2009, of these angry people screaming racial slurs on the Internet because there’s a Black president or posting sexist screeds because Michelle Obama wanted kids to have access to healthy meals. It reminds me of the kid in my sophomore class who said he was going to “take out” Obama on his inauguration day. He was 15 years old then. He’s a father now.

Hell, it reminds me of right now, of Republican Senators demanding civility and tone policing as they kowtow to an actual fascist. The Stormcloak in the Reach camp “had to do something” about the Empire telling him and his what to do, and the neighbor I used to dogsit for had to do something too. I don’t watch his dogs anymore. When I told him I wouldn’t, he tried to make himself the victim and say I was getting political about dog sitting. It’s just two dogs. It’s just a video game. All political messages are just imaginary, snowflake.

But it’s really not, is it now?

TL;DR and Sources

TL;DR: The imperials are portrayed as weak and effectual, as the bootlicker to the Thalmor, and the writers were so busy trying to make one side look bad and weak they inadvertently made actual fascists.

Even though this is pretty long, this really only scratches the surface of the.. Well, everything. In all honesty this is just a very condensed version of my opinion. Big shockeroo, there.

Do keep in mind that this isn’t a condemnation of Skyrim. Lord knows I love that game, or I wouldn’t have this blog. This also isn’t a damning of people who play the game and side with the Stormcloaks, or think Ulfric is hot, or don’t like the Thalmor or what have you. You do you, fam. You do you. This is my observation and opinion on one aspect of the game, just with some tasty sources to better paint a picture of where I personally formed my opinion.

This also isn’t to say that I’m trying to draw a 1:1 comparison between The Elder Scrolls and reality, or that Ulfric is obviously a McCain/Trump/Hitler expy, but Skyrim is, like all things, a product of the minds that created it. Skyrim didn’t happen in an apolitical vacuum, and apolitical stories about war simply do not exist. Anyone who tells you otherwise is simply reinforcing the status quo, and it is our responsibility as people who consume this media to question it, and that status quo they so dearly wish to hang on to.

Also, Elisif hot.

Sources:

Eco, Umberto. “Ur-Fascism”. The New York Review of Books. 1995. <https://www.pegc.us/archive/Articles/eco_ur-fascism.pdf>

Williamson, Venssa, Skocpol, Theda and Coggin, John. “The Tea Party and the Remaking of Republican Conservatism”. Perspectives on Politics, Volume 9. March 2011. <https://scholar.harvard.edu/files/williamson/files/tea_party_pop_0.pdf>

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Steamcharts.com <https://steamcharts.com/app/72850>

Schreier, Jason. “Bethesda Ships 7M Skyrim, Earns About $450M”. Wired. November 16, 2011. <https://www.wired.com/2011/11/skyrim-sales/>

Hann, Michael. “‘Fashwave” - synth music co-opted by the far right”. The Guardian. December 2014. <https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2016/dec/14/fashwave-synth-music-co-opted-by-the-far-right>

[southeastasianists]

Covid-19 has upended many things in daily life - from travel to retail to education. More menacingly, it has also unleashed an authoritarian blitzkrieg from Hungary to Turkey to the Philippines, where populist leaders are taking advantage of state of emergency conditions and lockdowns that have made public protests and opposition mobilisation next to impossible.

This week's conviction of Maria Ressa, President Rodrigo Duterte's bete noire and founder of the Rappler news portal, on cyber libel charges, illuminates how this plays out in the broader landscape of rapid authoritarian consolidation made possible by the pandemic.

Mr Duterte, who has repeatedly threatened to impose nationwide martial law, has also long resented the liberal-leaning mainstream media. The reports by Rappler, ABS-CBN network and the Philippine Inquirer about his administration's brutal drug war and other questionable policies have earned them the ire of the President.

Since coming to power, Mr Duterte has launched an unprecedented campaign of intimidation against the country's freewheeling media. He has accused journalists of corruption and biased coverage and has warned that "just because you're a journalist you are not exempted from assassination if you're a son of a bitch".

His threats against the media took a more menacing character in the light of the ongoing Covid-19 pandemic. The ABS-CBN shutdown came just over a month, and Ressa's conviction two months, after the Philippine Congress seamlessly handed the President sweeping emergency powers, which authorised him to "move, decide and act freely for the best interest of the Filipino people during this health crisis".

Since the imposition of a nationwide lockdown in late March, countless voices of dissent have faced unprecedented pressure. More than a dozen warrant-less arrests and subpoenas have been filed against netizens accused of engaging in "misinformation".

Of particular concern is the impending adoption of a draconian anti-terrorism law, which could potentially be weaponised against political opposition and civil dissent.

Also hanging in the balance is the fate of the country's oldest and largest media conglomerate, ABS-CBN, which was perfunctorily ordered in early May to go off the air. Its licence to broadcast its television and radio programmes was revoked even though the company's franchise was still under deliberation by the Philippine Congress.

The Philippine Supreme Court is set to deliberate the network's case next month, while civil society groups are expected to also challenge the new anti-terrorism law at the High Court. As for Ressa, who faces six years in jail for the cyber libel case alone, she is expected to appeal the verdict while also battling seven other charges, including tax evasion.

"I admit that it took me more than a month to defang the fear of jail. I hated that the baton was passed to me at this moment in time, but I also knew I wasn't going to drop it," Ressa, a Princeton alumna, told graduates at the university's virtual commencement last month.

Presidential spokesman Harry Roque was quick to dissociate Mr Duterte from the Ressa case, which has gained widespread international attention. Mr Roque asserts that the "President has said repeatedly that he has never filed a case of libel against a journalist despite his negative reporting" and that the Filipino leader "believes in free speech, and believes that anyone who works in government should not be thin-skinned". Earlier, the government made an almost exactly identical claim vis-a-vis ABS-CBN's closure, maintaining that what's at stake is standard application of law and Mr Duterte is "neutral" on the issue.

Ressa, the founder of the news portal, along with a former Rappler employee, Reynaldo Santos Jr, were both convicted on cyber libel charges on Monday in a case centred on allegations involving a local businessman.

Judge Rainelda Estacio-Montesa, who presided over the case, was adamant that what's at stake is "accountability" and that there "is no curtailment of the right to freedom of speech and of the press". The defendants, she said, failed to back up their allegations.

The case concerns a 2012 story written by Santos which alleged that a businessman, Mr Wilfredo Keng, had links to illegal drug and human trafficking. What has drawn criticism at home and abroad, however, is that the article was published by Rappler months before the Philippines' new cyber libel laws came into effect in 2013. Prosecutors argue that the law could still be applied because a correction made in 2014 to fix a "typo" in the story was considered a "republication" of the article.

Mrs Amal Clooney, one of Ressa's lawyers, condemned the conviction as "an affront to the rule of law, a stark warning to the press, and a blow to democracy in the Philippines". No less than Philippine Vice-President Leni Robredo has criticised the verdict as part of a broader campaign of "silencing, harassing, and weaponising law against the media".

The verdict against Ressa was the second major blow against the media. The first shock came when the National Telecommunications Commission (NTC) issued an immediate "cease and desist" against the liberal ABS-CBN network last month. Observers noted darkly then that it evoked memories of the martial law years under strongman Ferdinand Marcos, who effectively shut down the independent media in 1972.

Although Mr Duterte has repeatedly threatened the country's leading liberal media outlets with potential closure, accusing them of legal violations from "swindling" to tax evasion to foreign ownership with scant evidence, the move against the ABS-CBN still came as a surprise. For a long time, many doubted if Mr Duterte would go so far as to shut the country's largest broadcast network responsible for the most popular entertainment and news programmes in the country, or oversee the conviction of Ressa, the Philippines' most celebrated journalist.

Concerns about selective targeting of media outlets and the existential threat to the Philippines' long history of press freedom were heightened when in a candid moment, Mr Duterte's most trusted aide, Senator Bong Go, confessed that what's really at stake are "the grievances of the President against the network". "If you are mean to the President, he will be meaner to you," he warned critics. "If you are nice to the President, then he will be nicer to you."

To be sure, the Philippines has long been a dangerous place for journalists, who have been harassed and killed by militants, crooks and political warlords. During Mr Duterte's first three years in office, those in the news business continued to live dangerously, with as many as 154 incidents of harassment and attacks, 15 of them fatal, recorded across the country. "Of the 154 cases, at least 69 had linked state agents - public officials from the executive and legislative branches, uniformed personnel, and Cabinet appointees of President Duterte - as known or alleged perpetrators. Of these 69 state agents, about half or 27 are from national government agencies," a media watchdog, The Freedom for Media, Freedom for All Network, reported last year.

In the global Press Freedom Index, the Philippines, formally a liberal democracy, ranks below several repressive Arab regimes and, in Asia, just above Myanmar and Thailand, which are under de facto military rule.

Even more worrying, the recent passage of a draconian anti-terror law, which could lead to charges of terrorism against anyone accused of seeking to "intimidate the general public" or "create an atmosphere to spread a message of fear" has had civil rights groups warning that it would give the government "almost free rein in determining who are suspected terrorists" with potentially devastating impact on the opposition and press freedom.

Mr Duterte's endgame is far from clear, but there are fears that he may follow in the footsteps of other authoritarian populists, from Hungary's Prime Minister Viktor Orban to Turkey's President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, who systematically eroded free speech protections once in power.

But the fight is far from over. From challenging the anti-terrorism law and ABS-CBN's closure in the Supreme Court, to appealing against Ressa's conviction, the opposition and independent media are determined to hold the line in hopes of better days. After all, they survived the darkest days of the Marcos dictatorship.

And time is fortunately on their side, With Mr Duterte limited to one term and entering his fifth year next June, he effectively becomes a lame duck by the middle of next year. Also, progressive relaxation of the ongoing lockdown will create more space for protest and mobilisation; those who resist him may still have a fighting chance.

[didanawisgi]

“Late Wednesday night, the House passed H.R. 1, the “For the People Act.” It passed by ten votes, with every Republican voting against it, as well as Mississippi Democrat Bennie Thompson, who fears that the bill will abolish majority-black districts like his in the Deep South. Thompson deserves credit for reading past the title of the bill, which its cheerleaders in the media seem not to have done.

As to that title, H.R. 1 says that it is “For the People,” but tellingly, not by the people, or of the people. Quite the contrary.

It would be an understatement to describe H.R. 1 as a radical assault on American democracy, federalism, and free speech. It is actually several radical left-wing wish lists stuffed into a single 791-page sausage casing. It would override hundreds of state laws governing the orderly conduct of elections, federalize control of voting and elections to a degree without precedent in American history, end two centuries of state power to draw congressional districts, turn the Federal Elections Commission into a partisan weapon, and massively burden political speech against the government while offering government handouts to congressional campaigns and campus activists. Merely to describe the bill is to damn it, and describing it is a Herculean task in itself.

States have long experience running elections, and different states have taken different approaches suited to their own locales and populations. The federal government traditionally intervened only to prevent serious abuses of voting rights. H.R. 1 would upend that balance for no good reason, wrecking carefully refined state regimes for securing the vote. It also throws out much of the work of federal election laws passed with extensive bipartisan support in 1993 and 2002.

The first target is to wipe out state laws that allow voters to be checked against a preexisting list of registrations. H.R. 1 mandates that states provide same-day registration and allow people to change their name and address on the rolls at the polling place on Election Day, then forbids states from treating their votes as provisional ballots that can be checked later. It mandates online registration without adequate safeguards against hackers. It mandates automated registration of people who apply for unemployment, Medicaid, Obamacare, and college, or who are coming out of prison. The bill’s authors expect this to register noncitizens: They create a safe harbor against prosecution of noncitizens who report that they have been erroneously registered.

H.R. 1 bars states from checking with other states for duplicate registrations within six months of an election. It bars removing former voters from the rolls for failure to vote or to respond to mailings. Outside election observers are an important check on the system; H.R. 1 bars anyone but an election official from challenging a voter’s eligibility to vote on Election Day — thus insulating Democrat-run precincts from scrutiny.

State voter-ID laws are banned, replaced simply by a sworn voter statement. The dramatic expansion of mail-in voting during the COVID pandemic is enshrined permanently in federal law. States are banned from the most elementary security methods for mail-in ballots: They must provide a ballot to everyone without asking for identification and may not require notarization or a witness to signatures. States are compelled to permit ballot harvesting so long as the harvesters are not paid per ballot. Curbside voting, ballot drop boxes, and 15 days of early voting are mandated nationwide, and the bill micromanages the location and hours of polling stations, early voting locations, and drop boxes.

States are compelled to accept voter registrations from 16-year-olds, although they still cannot vote before turning 18 (an amendment to mandate that, too, was defeated). Democrats and their political allies, who rely on the youth vote, traditionally expend extensive resources registering young people. The bill shifts the job of signing up young voters to the federal government, which will pay to teach twelfth graders how to register, create a “Campus Vote Coordinator” position on college campuses, and award grants to colleges for “demonstrated excellence in registering students to vote.” This is measured in part by whether campuses provide rides to get students to the polls and whether they encourage both students and the communities around the campus to get “mobilized to vote.”

Restrictions on felon voting in federal elections in many states are overridden. This exceeds Congress’s constitutional authority over the conduct of elections by directly regulating who may vote, rather than how. In fact, the 14th Amendment expressly permits felons to be disenfranchised — as the Supreme Court held in 1974. State elections officials would be effectively banned from running for federal office by recusal requirements.

Not content to remake the American voting system, H.R. 1 takes the drawing of congressional districts out of the hands of elected state legislatures — who have done the job since the Founding — and turns them over to “independent” commissions, while banning mid-decade readjustments of district lines. It also counts inmates as residents of their last address (even if serving a life sentence), a provision aimed at reducing the representation of rural areas where prisons are located.

These are just the warm-ups. H.R. 1’s crackdowns on political speech are at least as extensive and biased as its changes to election law, and some of the provisions on coordination and foreign-related activity are so complex that even election-law experts warn that their impact is impossible to determine. For example, one provision could be read to bar corporations from political activity if they have even a single foreign shareholder. The new anti-speech laws would generate years of litigation, and many of them would likely be struck down by the Supreme Court.

New disclosure rules would treat huge amounts of speech and advertising on matters of public concern as if they were campaign contributions, including any advertisement urging viewers to contact elected officials to support or oppose a program, policy, or law. This would require donors to, say, the AARP to be identified as supporters of any candidate if the AARP demands that the candidate keep a promise to protect Social Security. The cumulative effect is to further burden citizen rights to petition and further insulate the government from criticism.

501(c)(4) nonprofits would be required to disclose their donors, another potentially unconstitutional burden on the freedom to speak and associate. New limits on corporate political activity are extensive, and similar restrictions are not placed on unions. Previous rules in place to enable free speech on the Internet and prevent political bias in IRS audits are repealed.

What would an omnibus bill be without handouts to unworthy causes, starting with the people who wrote the bill? H.R. 1 includes extensive public-funding giveaways to candidates, including a six-to-one public match for some donations to congressional and presidential campaigns. It also establishes a pilot program that gives voters $25 apiece to make government-funded donations to campaigns.

The labyrinth of new speech rules would be administered by the FEC, and so H.R. 1 eliminates the commission’s longstanding bipartisan structure and makes it more directly accountable to the president. We are sympathetic to efforts to make executive agencies more politically accountable, but the newly partisan structure of the FEC that would be created by H.R. 1 only illustrates why it should not wield such vast powers over elections.

There are reasonable issues to be taken with the current system of voting and elections, and constructive steps Congress could take. But not since the Alien and Sedition Acts has one political party in Congress sought to bend the power of the federal government, on partisan lines, toward crushing political opposition to this extent. H.R. 1 is not merely a bad idea; it is a scandal.”

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

March 3, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

We’re in this weird eddy where Republicans are trying to cling to past politics to gain advantage and the Biden administration is trying to move forward. On top of this struggle are stories about how the previous administration pushed the boundaries of our laws or, worse, broke them.

Yesterday, two Republican governors, Greg Abbott of Texas and Tate Reeves of Mississippi, ended the mask mandates and other coronavirus restrictions for their states. So far today, the Johns Hopkins University tracker has reported 88,611 new cases and 2,189 new deaths. The numbers are dropping, but they are still wildly high compared to other nations. Texas and Mississippi are both in the top ten states in terms of deaths per capita.

It is hard not to see the reopening of Republican-led states as a deliberate affront to President Joe Biden, who asked for a 100-day mask mandate and who has sped up vaccine production to end the pandemic before new variants throw us back into a crisis. The Biden administration has tried to take politics out of the national response to the coronavirus, and made it a point to respond quickly to the crisis in Texas two weeks ago, when the unregulated Texas energy system froze. Health officials worry that a rush to reopen will undo all the progress we have made against the virus, and they are begging Texas and Mississippi to reconsider.

Nonetheless, Abbott has reopened his state and today tweeted: “The Biden Administration is recklessly releasing hundreds of illegal immigrants who have COVID into Texas communities. The Biden Admin[istration] must IMMEDIATELY end this callous act that exposes Texans & Americans to COVID.”

While Abbott is mired in past politics, the Biden administration today laid out a new approach to foreign affairs. Shortly before the White House released a paper explaining its national security policies, Secretary of State Antony Blinken gave a speech reiterating the administration’s belief that the world needs American leadership and engagement to help create order, and that countries must cooperate with each other.

Blinken promised to stop Covid-19 both at home and abroad, and to invest in global health security. He said we would address the economic crisis and the climate crisis and create a more stable, inclusive global economy. We will “renew democracy,” he said, “because it’s under threat.” Blinken promised to “incentivize democratic behavior” overseas without “costly military interventions or attempting to overthrow authoritarian regimes by force.”

Blinken identified China as the greatest modern rival of the United States and promised to “engage China from a position of strength,” working with allies to counter that nation’s rising power through diplomacy.

The Secretary of State emphasized again how the Biden administration sees domestic and foreign issues as complementary. “Beating COVID means vaccinating people at home and abroad,” he said. “Winning in the global economy means making the right investments at home and pushing back against unfair trading practices by China and others. Dealing with climate change means investing in resilience and green energy here at home and leading a global effort to reduce carbon pollution.”

“[D]istinctions between domestic and foreign policy have simply fallen away,” Blinken said. “Our domestic renewal and our strength in the world are completely entwined.”

Biden’s paper was even clearer, noting that we are at an inflection point that will determine whether democracy will fall to autocracy. “I firmly believe that democracy holds the key to freedom, prosperity, peace, and dignity,” he wrote. “We must now demonstrate — with a clarity that dispels any doubt — that democracy can still deliver for our people and for people around the world. We must prove that our model isn’t a relic of history; it’s the single best way to realize the promise of our future.”

Meanwhile, stories continue to break about the previous administration.

Tonight, we learned that the Department of Justice under Trump loyalist Attorney General William Barr refused to investigate or prosecute Trump’s Secretary of Transportation, Elaine Chao, even after that department’s inspector general asked for a review of what it said was a misuse of her office. The inspector general found repeated instances of Chao using her office to benefit the Chao family company, Foremost Group, a shipping company run by Chao’s sister. Chao is married to Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell.

Also, today, the inspector general for the Department of Defense issued a review of Representative Ronny Jackson, who was Trump’s White House physician before he was elected to Congress from Texas in 2020. The review says he has an explosive temper, made “sexual and denigrating” comments about a woman who was his subordinate, created a hostile work environment, and drank alcohol and took Ambien while on duty. The inspector general recommended that the Navy take “appropriate action” with regard to the retired officer. Jackson said, “Democrats are using this report to repeat and rehash untrue attacks on my integrity.”

Today’s biggest story about the previous administration, though, came from the Senate hearings about the January 6, 2021, attack, held before the committee of Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs and the committee on Rules and Administration. While there is still confusion about what happened when, it became clear that there were some serious lapses in the protection of the Capitol, and it appears those lapses originated with Trump appointees in the Pentagon.

Because the District of Columbia is not a state, its National Guard is under the control of the Defense Department, and it is overseen by Army Secretary Ryan McCarthy. The Commander of the D.C. National Guard, Major General William Walker, told the Senate that, in response to a request from D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser and the director of D.C. Homeland Security and Emergency Management Agency, Dr. Christopher Rodriguez, Walker requested approval for the mission from McCarthy on January 1.

McCarthy’s approval did not come until January 5, when the event was already upon them. And, in what Walker saw as an unusual move, McCarthy withheld approval for Walker to deploy the Quick Reaction Force, guardsmen equipped with helmets, shields, batons, and so on, to respond to civil disturbance, without the approval of the Secretary of Defense.

Then, at 1:49 pm on January 6, then Chief of the U.S. Capitol Police, Steven Sund, called Walker to say that the Capitol had been breached. “Chief Sund, his voice cracking with emotion, indicated that there was a dire emergency on Capitol Hill and requested the immediate assistance of as many guardsmen as I could muster,” Walker told the Senate. Walker immediately called the Pentagon for approval to move in his troops, but officials there did not give the go-ahead for 3 hours and 19 minutes. Once allowed in, the National Guard troops deployed in 20 minutes. But by then, of course, plenty of damage had been done.

The delay in deployment stood in dramatic contrast to the approval accorded to the National Guard to deploy in June 2020. Today’s testimony suggests that the Pentagon placed unprecedented restrictions on the mobilization of the National Guard on January 6, preventing it from responding to the crisis at the Capitol in a timely fashion.

The House will not meet tomorrow out of fears that militants will attack the Capitol again, expecting that March 4 will see former president Donald Trump sworn in for a second term.

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON