#centuries later there has been a lot of progress but

[empty-dream]

I… was tricked. Everything he said was a lie. Kolbe is a wicked man. If only… that were true. Things would be much easier. But it's not so. He's a good man. He really is looking out for me. This must be the best I can hope for. This is my reality.

[etrosgate]

the second readthrough of world trigger is where it really kicks in

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In Love and War

Summary: A warlord!Rhys x Tamlin's sister!Reader AU where Hybern won the War centuries ago, ravishing Prythian and leaving the splintered Courts as nothing more than pockets of travelling war bands. Based loosely on the vibes from War by Laura Thalassa.

Content Warnings: (Each chapter will be tagged accordingly for violence, drinking, and Eventual smut) Canon typical violence, Rhys leans heavily into morally gray, kidnapping.

Author's Note: Trying something new with a first person POV, let me know what you think :)

----------------------------------

“Don’t come back unless you’ve brought food.”

It’s been days since that order, the rumble of my stomach the only indicator of passing time. The changing forests, the dying grasslands, the marshes, it’s all been a disappointing blur. All my traps are empty and untouched, some frozen in place as winter approaches. My father used to tell me stories of the Courts, how they were ruled by High Lords with the power to keep perpetual seasons. That was before the War, before Hybern and his General Amarantha ruined everything with the Cauldron, all for some human slaves. Father had liked to talk about the “good ole days” every night around the fire; he could spin pretty tales for hours, but that’s all they are these days. Stories. And stories don’t keep your stomach full.

I trail the deer through a stinking muck of a bog, mud and slimy water seeping in through the holes in my boots. The sludge is bone chilling, my hands shaking around my bow; teeth chattering so loud I have to clamp my mouth shut to avoid making too much noise. I need this kill and I need it fast. 

The deer stops to eat a bit of moss and I take a few more careful steps forward to get a better vantage point, cautious of where the ground sinks deeper beneath the murky water. Slipping and twisting an ankle in this mud would be dangerous, but it’s not an injury that makes my steps cautious. There are plenty of kelpie around these parts, I feel their beady little eyes watching me under the cover of a quickly approaching fog. All I need is one misstep and those spindly, webbed hands will drag me under for a quick meal.

Better a kelpie than the Highway Men I’d managed to dodge getting this far out of my brother’s territory, I suppose, but I’d rather avoid both of them if possible.

Once I’m sure of my footing, I notch an arrow to my bow. This is not the ideal place to kill it, but the rumbling of my stomach might just be too damn loud to give me another chance if I wait for it to pass out of the bog. How many days has it been since my last meal? Four? Five?

I pull the arrow back, the weathered feathers brushing my hollow cheek. 

The deer’s head jerks up, ears turning to listen to something beyond the fog and I hold my breath. The ground beneath my boots begins to rumble and the deer bolts before I can take the shot, disappearing into the gloom. A loss to mourn later, because that rumbling can only mean one thing: Horses, and a lot of them, moving right in my direction. 

I slide my bow over my shoulder and run back the way I’d come, mud sucking at my every step, slowing my progress as I try to get back to the treeline at the edge of the bog. The wet land is covered in dead and living trees alike, some as old as time, still reaching towards the sun like the ruined hands of a corpse, some fighting its inevitable demise. It’s too cold these days for the living to still have leaves, so even if I wanted to stop and climb one, I’d have no place to hide. I might as well stand there and wave my arms and alert every horseman to my location.

Still, the branches are helpful for leverage, and I grab onto the low ones and haul myself along, hoping to find shelter higher up the basin’s edge, where the water has not claimed as much. There’s plenty of underbrush there to shield me. 

The first horse appears through the fog, dark as a shadow, it’s echoing whinny chilling in the previous silence. A hooded rider sits atop the giant animal, a giant sword sheathed between his massive shoulders. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” I hiss to no one as I crouch the best I can in the open air. 

There are many warbands in Prythian these days. Some are Hybern’s men. Some Amarantha’s. The rest are what remains of the Courts. Those of us with enough magic to prove useful have been known to swear fealty and garner protection from them, but that means you get the privilege of fighting and dying for those entitled pricks who think they are owed the land their ancestors once ruled. From this far, I can’t tell who’s colors they bear, but without the, usually oppressive presence, of my brother’s own men I’m not likely to have a safe encounter. Better to wait it out and let them pass.

The first rider doesn’t see me through the fog, a small blessing that I take full advantage of by inching forward. The treeline is so close. If I am lucky, if the Mother is still out there listening and looking out for me, I can hunker down and wait.

A second rider appears through the fog, faster than the first, racing along the bog’s edge until it makes it over the ledge of the basin and disappears. The cry of their horses sound like ghosts howling in the wind. A third and fourth rider follow. I can hear even more of them, the rumble of their caravan making the ground shake, but no more appear as the fog thickens. 

A shiver runs down my spine, but still, I press forward. I’ve dodged plenty of males like this in the past, I can do the same now. I just need to be smart. And lucky.

Neither of which I am, apparently. As soon as my boots touch more solid ground, another horse appears, this time, from within the safety of the treeline I’d been so desperate to get to. The rider atop this one is as large as the first, face completely obscured by a black hood with three stars perfectly poised over his forehead, the bottom two falling where his eyes should be. 

I freeze, mind reeling back to a time years ago, when those stars had come bursting through camp, only bloodshed and destruction behind them. My hands shake at my sides as I slide backwards into the muck, slipping, barely maintaining my balance as the midnight black horse rears, hooves pawing at the air. I’d heard that terrifying whiny before too, right before my father’s head rolled out of his tent. 

My stomach rolls, bile rising in the back of my throat. This can’t be happening to me! They promised to stay away.

The rider gets his horse under control, large, gloved hands yanking hard on the reins, deep voice barking orders in the language I know belongs to the mountain men in Illyria, but had never been permitted to learn myself.

My heart hammers in my chest as I get back on my feet, head whipping back and forth trying to find a way out.  

“What’s your business here?” The rider demands, voice deep, gruff, muffled by a scarf over the lower half of his face.

“My own,” I snarl, reaching for the hunting knife at my hip. This is no one’s claimed territory, save for maybe the kelpie I hear skimming the surface at my back, I have every right to hunt here as anyone. “Now let me pass and I’ll be on my way.”

The rider swings out of the saddle and the ground shakes as his boots touch the ground. A dark mist leaks from his shoulders, shadows swirling around the sword hilt peeking out from between his shoulders and… I’d been mistaken about his size, it wasn’t just his shoulders, it was a pair of wings. Wings that had been tucked tight while he was  riding but now stretch out behind him, the leathery membrane pitted and scarred from years of battle. If I’d had doubts about who this was before, I don't now. Though I’d only seen him in glimpses that night, Tamlin had talked enough about the rival warlord over the years for me to be able to put two and two together.

A lump forms in my throat. Rhysand is even taller up close, the top of my head barely coming up to his chin. “I have nothing of value.” I’m not wearing our colors, I’m not sure if they would have helped or hindered me here, but my best bet is to just play dumb.

From the incline of his head it looks like he’s eyeing my knife, but I can’t be certain. There is some kind of enchantment over his hood, obscuring his face from view. “What’s your name?” 

“No business of yours,” I retort, tightening my grip on the knife. 

“So hostile,” he purrs. “I mean no harm.”

“Says the male with the sword.”

“If I wanted to hurt you, I would have.”

“I’m flattered,” I drawl. “How kind of you to deem me worth a modicum of decency as you block my exit.”

He takes a step forward and I take a step back, right to the edge of the water, where that damn creature hisses out a chuckle, knife poised and ready between us. He’s not wearing armor, a well placed blow could still kill him, I want him to think twice before moving any closer. Though, I suppose I must not look that imposing, considering our size difference and the sheer amount of muscle underneath that dark cloak. 

He sizes me up silently for a moment, hooded head intently fixed on the hand gripping the knife. Then, with speed enhanced even for High Fae, he’s reaching forward and grabbing my wrist as I stumble back and slam right into a tree.

It’s instinct: The punch I throw with my free hand, hitting him square in the throat, even as my heel comes down on the top of his foot. He grunts like it hurts, but doesn’t move, doesn’t let up on the grip he keeps on my wrist.

“Where’d you get this scar?” He drags a finger over the top of my hand, where I’ve got a scar shaped like an eight point star. 

“Get off me!” I shout as I try to wrench my hand free of his grip.

If his men hear, they don’t come running. There is no one here to save me--not that there has been anyone to save me in a long time anyway.

He’s wearing gloves, but with the hand not maintaining a vice on my wrist, he pushes the leather back enough to reveal a matching scar on the back of his own hand. 

All thought eddies from my mind. 

This can’t be real.

He takes the knife from my hand as if it was being held by a toddler, but much to my surprise, he slides it right back into its sheath at my hip. The move lets him lean in, large body hovering over mine. I still can’t see a glimpse of his face beneath the hood. 

“You’re my mate,” he says, voice a reverent whisper.

Mate. My heart hammers in my chest at the word, as if something beneath my skin is coming to life at the realization. The power that lies distant and untouched with me stirs, a large beast poking its head out of the den after a long hibernation. Having a mate is most women's dream--was my own, once upon a time, before the world went to hell--but not like this, not him. My world had gone to hell because of him. 

The Mother truly hates my guts.

“I’m not your anything,” I snarl as I get a hand on his broad chest and push. He’s nothing but solid muscle beneath my palm. When pushing gets me nowhere, I make a fist and hit him a good couple times. “Now let go of me, you brute!”

He chuckles, low and rich, as if this is all very amusing. “No. It’s not safe out here. You’re coming with me.”

I’d rather be eaten by the kelpie. “The hell I am!” But before I can find a way to fight him, as useless as my attempts have been thus far, he wraps a strong arm around my waist and all but tosses me into the saddle.

I reach for my hunting knife again, but a gloved hand hovers over my own, even as his other arm snakes around me to grab the reins. “Easy, mate,” he purrs in my ear. “You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

Despite myself, that voice, so close to my ear, his body warm and solid behind me, a shiver runs down my spine. “You’re fucking kidnapping me, you bastard!” I snarl, because there’s no way I’m just going along with this. “And I’m not your mate! I don’t even believe in mates.”

“You will,” he assures as he kicks his horse into moving back into the fog.

________________

Let me know if you'd like to be added to a taglist for future updates :)

[izicodes]

Hi, Hello! It’s me, Izzy and I am back from a very long break!

For those who don’t know who I am and just saw my post, I’m Isabelle but Izzy for short (and even shorter, Izi)! I run a Codeblr blog which I post about anything coding! I try to strictly only talk about coding, programming and computer science, but frankly, I ramble on about something else eventually! Hope you’re doing well!

Now, I know I said I wouldn't come back, but that was because I suddenly became stuck on what to post about and wanted to give myself a break and figure out how to do things on my blog and my online presence in general!

So, in summary, I am back from my break very inspired and eager to help more people get into programming / get better at programming! I will go on to talk about exactly what I have been doing during my break later on in this post, but wanted to say thank you to everyone who messaged me throughout the months and saw how I was! Very thought and extra blessings from God to you, please!

Working at my new-but-not-so-new job!

Yes! So, obviously, as a 21st Century girlie, I am working! Still at the music company that I started back in January! Now that I am 8 months into the job, I feel now I am fully immersed in the job and the projects and not feeling like an outsider! I went on multiple out-the-office events with the whole company and it was nice! Some I couldn’t attend because of religious reasons, but I still had fun! I got to meet a lot more girlies at my office that I don’t usually talk to (because I’m still the only girl in the frontend engineering team but there is a backend girlie but we don’t work close together so… distance)! Cheatingly, I am always ticking the box of “code every day”! However, work has made me do more UI/UX designing + frontend programming websites which I love! Always wanted to be both and not just one or the other! We are allowed to have 2 job titles, remember? (But make sure the salary is in accordance, of course, ~)

Learning new technologies! (for fun, obviously)

By “for fun” I mean personal reasons, the technologies I learnt on a whim were not for work but because I needed to learn them for personal projects I wanted to learn! I stress again; it’s more fun to learn something because you want to and not because you have to! So, I have been learning how to create desktop applications using ElectronJS and ReactJS (React has become my best friend!). Me now compared to me when I started my break is 10x smarter I feel like! My brain has definitely expanded somewhere…!

Latest project?!

Inspired by study productivity apps and wanting to track my Korean language progress, I am making a desktop application called ‘eStudySpace’! It would be my own personal app, but I want to see if I can actually pull something like this off! Right now I have not coded anything because I want to work on the design aspect first (which is smarter and a time saver in the future), so I have been on Figma for the last 2 weeks coming up with designs!

(It looks bad, I know this is like idea no.3287368 ugh...)

Miscs

I have been learning Korean for 4 months now. 

I have plans to move to a South-Eastern country, The Philippines? Singapore? Unsure!

I do have plans to switch to a new career but that’s more like 5 years into the future! But right now, I’m happy where I am at!

[sineala]

Are there ANY stony/Star Trek AUs?

Okay. Um. I'm just going to assume this is a legitimate question and not actually a way to express frustration about my progress on the sequel I am writing (I stared at this ask for a while), so I will just conclude that you must have missed the Steve/Tony Star Trek AU I wrote, um, back in 2016:

Straight on till Morning (109848 words) by Sineala Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Avengers (Comics) Rating: Explicit  Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark  Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Carol Danvers, Janet Van Dyne, Hank Pym, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Clint Barton, Donald Blake (Marvel), Jocasta (Marvel)  Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Action/Adventure, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pining, Angst, Secret Identity, Identity Porn, Sex Pollen, Fuck Or Die, Caves, Sex In A Cave, Technobabble, Happy Ending, Cap_Ironman Big Bang 2016, Community: cap_ironman, Podfic Available  Summary: 

Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he'd never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony's own design. What's more, the Avenger's captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive... and very, very attractive. 

But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own -- and the truth could change everything.

So, yeah, if you actually haven't read that one, that'll keep you busy for a while. It's a Trek fusion with comics Steve/Tony, set in the era of the later TOS movies. (This is important so that you can picture the correct uniforms, and also because it actually matters that the events of Star Trek II, III, and IV have happened.) It was a Big Bang fic, so it's got some great art by Ran and Phoenix -- embedded in the story -- and also M_Samro made a really amazing podfic of it, if you like podfics.

For a charity auction in 2017, I promised I would write a sequel, and I plotted the whole thing out and started writing this extremely epic sequel, which was unfortunately, about a plague threatening the galaxy, and I got about 120,000 words in and then 2020 happened and I decided I needed to not be writing it right now. So it went on an extended hiatus.

But the good news is that I've actually gotten back to it! I picked it up again last month and I've put 40,000 more words in it since then and at this exact moment I am currently working on the last scene of Chapter 4 (out of six total)! I swear it is happening! I've been putting in about a thousand words a day for the past month! It is really happening this time! The sequel is coming! I promise! I know it has been years but it's happening!

See? It's happening! (I would include a screencap of the part that is happening, but all of Chapter 4 is pretty spoilery.)

So that will exist! Someday! I mean that!

And if you're asking about Steve/Tony Star Trek AUs by people other than me, there are some! If you filter the AU - Star Trek Fusion tag by Steve/Tony, there are 25 matches. Several of them are related to my fic (remixes, art) but there is some stuff that isn't my fault! I haven't read a lot of them because I was trying not to read things that seemed like they might be similar to mine while I was plotting my series here, and also I have never finished watching DS9, so I skipped the DS9 ones.

Under Stars by vulcanscully: A fun fusion that I thought was interesting because Steve is an ensign and that's not how this usually goes.

Discovery of the Century by DepressingGreenie: More 616 in flavor than a lot of the Trek AUs, this is basically Finding Steve In The Ice but Make It Star Trek. As far as I am concerned, Finding Steve In The Ice is great every time.

and so we rebuild by raeldaza: I'm probably biased because this one was inspired by my fic, but I also really enjoyed this one for not being how these things usually go. A lot of Trek AUs in many fandoms are written through a TOS/AOS kind of lens and will often do a Kirk/Spock thing and make one of them a Vulcan or half-Vulcan. In this one that's Tony, but also he's a terrible Vulcan! He's found a new way to disappoint his father!

Stellar Love Affairs by AvengersNewB: I honestly had never imagined a Star Trek fusion that was also A/B/O but I think it really works here! It's like bringing pon farr full circle.

Xenophilia by Captain_Panda: Captain_Panda has several Trek AUs but I am reccing this one because it's the longest. And also the whumpiest. Everyone loves some good away-mission whump!

So there you go! Live long and prosper! I promise I am still writing this Star Trek AU sequel!

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I'm writing a fantasy story set in a setting that focuses around 12-13 century BCE. My main character, who is not the POV character, has progressive blindness due to a genetic disorder and has lost most of his hearing in one ear due to an explosion in a battle. Given that magic exists very sparingly in this universe, and no one close to him has such powers, he uses only a cane and later, a guide animal for his blindness.

I just read through your blog and I realised it might seem a little disrespectful to not accommodate other avenues of aid, especially for his hearing loss. I wanted to ask if I should add anything else, and if so, what would be appropriate for the period?

P.S.: He is also a warrior, and he fights pretty often; is that unrealistic with the aids that are involved?

Thank you for maintaining the blogs, this has been greatly educational

Hi!

So, while we don't have a lot of commonly known resources about disability in this time period because of the in general more limited resources about it, we actually found a resource that might help you a lot!

This website is called Disability History and the Ancient World, and focuses on exactly what it says lol. To quote it: "Quite contrary to disability studies for other periods, research into this subject has just begun to develop and specialists are few." It has a huge bibliography of various research papers and articles, in various languages and about various topics. Not all of them have links, but they can be copy-pasted and then searched for and whatnot. More specifically, we found an article about deaf men in the 13th century BCE! Here's the article, and here it is in PDF form if that's easier.

For more general practical writing advice, you can play a little fast and loose with accuracy. You kind of already have, a bit, with the aids for blindness – but also with fantasy, and also because you kind of have to, in a setting we know relatively little about!

It is, however, pretty accurate that wherever people are deaf, they develop sign languages to communicate. It might not historically have been a standardized language in a widespread way, but people everywhere want to communicate. If you're being a bit anachronistic anyway, which again, is totally fine especially in a fantasy setting, you could also make it so that a braille-like language exists already; and/or a tactile sign language that's somewhat known. Those are aids that DeafBlind people use today that could translate pretty well to the setting.

As to the combat/warrior, I would say that a guide animal is much less realistic to have in combat than the cane. You also mention that his blindness is progressive, which means it might vary from battle to battle depending on how his blindness progresses and how often he has to fight.

Thank you for your question, by the way! I think we were all a bit fascinated because no one has asked us anything about this time period before.

– mod sparrow

P.S.: For historical context for anyone else other than the original asker, this time period is 1300-1101 BCE, and the numbers go 3-2-1 instead of 1-2-3 because they're counting down to 0. It's around this time that it's the Late Bronze Age and later the Late Bronze Age Collapse, the Shang Dynasty is in place in China, it's the 19th Dynasty of Egypt, and the mythological Trojan War has its symbolic dates (it might be based on a real conflict, or not, we don't know for sure).

[sunflowerwizard]

We Don't Talk About Abdel: the ""Canon"" Gorion's Ward and Why I Hate Him

If you've only played Baldur's Gate 3 you may have heard of Abdel Adrian. The Hero of Baldur's Gate, late Grand Duke, and Bhaalspawn who died, badly.

There is, unfortunately a lot you might not know. Spoilers ahead for the original Baldur's Gate, Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn, and Baldur's Gate 2: Throne of Bhaal. And their shitty novelizations you should not read.

Your choices matter. Allegedly.

There are many ways to handle continuity in a series of choice-heavy RPGs with custom main characters. There's the approach the original Fallout games did, by setting the second installment long enough after the first, that your player character can be vaguely alluded to without much friction. There's the Bioware approach, of uploading your save data from previous games to slightly effect the world in the next one. And then there's the Baldur's Gate series, which splits the difference and makes the worst of both worlds: a century has past and there's no cheeky vagueness to transplant your own player character as the Hero of Baldur's Gate. It is Abdel Adrian's world and we are merely living in it.

I'd argue there's one thing that very clearly separates a Commander Shepherd from an Abdel Adrian, and that's serving a role in a game that lines up with the story being told.

What's the deal with Bhaalspawn?

I'd like to get one thing out of the way first. Bhaalspawn =/= The Dark Urge. I only mention this because I've seen some people assume all Bhaalspawn operate on the "sleeper cell turbo murderer" framework that the DU does. The majority of the first Baldur's Gate game, the player character themself doesn't know they're in any way unusual. You get ominous dream sequences as the story progresses, up until the Big Reveal.

At which point, one of the themes reveals itself: nature versus nurture. Your PC is a 20-something year old young adult who lived inside a walled town, and had their entire support system torn away the second they left. Unless you've chosen to roleplay that way, they may not have ever felt a particular inclination towards violence. This is in stark contrast with Big Bad, your half-brother Sarevok whose upbringing was filled with struggle and violence.

It's even more apparent in Throne of Bhaal, when you're confronted with it outright: what if your places had been switched? Maybe you would've committed even more atrocities than your half-brother.

We now have to talk about the books. Unfortunately. Canonically the novelization of Baldur's Gate is the origin of Abdel Adrian. He is Philip Athans' brainchild and there's fuck all we can do about it. Unless I get a word of god response from Wizards of the Coast or story beats are directly contradicted in other BG-related media that has come out since, I am treating the events of the books as canon.

A narrative treadmill of a character arc

The game starts out in relatively bog-standard hero's journey fashion. It's morning in Candlekeep, you're leaving home for the very first time with your adoptive dad, and he's been very cagey about the details other than "we need to leave, I'll explain later."

Abdel Adrian, has already left Candlekeep at the start of the novel. He's already in his mid-twenties, and has been traveling the Sword Coast as a sword-for-hire for nearly a decade (presumably cornering the child soldier market). He also really likes killing people, hence his line of work. The big inciting incident with Gorion happens because he sent Abdel a letter about needing to talk, at which point Sarevok shows up, kills Gorion, who tells Abdel to seek out Jahiera and Khalid with his dying breath.

I'll break down my issues with this point by point. -Abdel is very clearly not a level 1 character. Perhaps this is a petty point, but isn't half the fun of this style of fantasy story watching the protagonist grow in skill, until they can eventually face off against the seemingly indomitable Big Bad? Spoiler: Abdel is already at the peak of his Swordsmanship Power™ and we will not see any growth on that front.

-What are the stakes, actually? We went from "everything I know and love has been torn away from me. I'm a level 1 adventurer in a big, dangerous world and cannot go home." to "I'm a big tough fighterman with a penchant for murder who's going to avenge the father figure the book tell-not-shows you I cared about" Like my previous point, we have no baseline, no sense of what the main character has truly lost. I'm much less interested in watching someone start from the middle and fight their way to the top, than seeing someone from rock bottom getting there.

-His Bhaalspawn heritage manifests itself as murdergremlin tendencies. If you've not encountered a player with murdergremlin tendencies while playing a ttrpg, you've almost certainly heard horror stories about them. The guy who loves to escalate encounters into combat, who threatens and maims because "it's what my character would do" and often times view themselves as the main character.

If that sounds exhausting, this is the character whose head we're trapped inside. A guy whose two big motivators are murder and sex, whose external moral compass is his love interest (Jahiera deserved better). AND EVEN THEN by the end of the second book, the only growth he has experienced as a character is "maybe sometimes I won't murder everyone who makes me angry" when he just point-blank refuses to kill the antagonist of BG2. Oh, but not before he had sex with and violently murdered the other main antagonist who was also a woman.

"Okay the books are awful, but why be angry at Abdel?"

Because by virtue of WOTC continuing to use "Abdel Adrian" as THE Hero of Baldur's Gate and a canon character, those books are still canon. SOME elements had to be retconned for being incongruent with the games (did I mention in the first novel Abdel leaves Khalid to die during a fight in the first novel?) but otherwise? I've seen no revisions to his base character. And now every piece of Baldur's Gate media is built on this shitty, rotten foundation.

Are these points somewhat petty? Yes! Either Wizards should've come up with an entirely new stand-in Bhaalspawn to wash the shit taste of those novelizations out of everyone's mouths, or they should've written future material to only vaguely allude to BG 1&2's protagonist. The Bhaalspawn saga was wrapped up perfectly fine in Throne of Bhaal. Either he should've stayed dead with Cyric taking on his domain, or find another way to bring him back. Abdel Adrian having .0001% Bhaal Juice still in his blood and thus turning into The Slayer is a "Somehow, Palpatine returned" way of doing it.

On the off chance anyone is morbidly curious about the terrible novels, me and some pals did a live-reading not too long ago. If this post gets 100 notes I will make a Greatest Hits compilation of terrible moments. Spoiler: one of them includes the "spider in her cleavage" scene.

[supernovaa-remnant]

L’manberg, Nationalism, and c!Dream

Okay, I know it’s been done to death, but I’ve been reading Benedict Anderson’s Imagined Communities for a class which talks about nationalism as an imagined community, so nationalism has been on my mind. And, of course, my mind’s natural progression was to start thinking about L’manberg and nationalism again. So, without further ado, here’s my post on L’manberg, Nationalism, and how that played a role in c!Dream’s story arc. 

(Also, I haven’t written an essay in ages, and I haven’t done analysis in ages, so please cut me some slack lol)

It’s under the cut because this is a very, very long post (3.2k words long, in fact). (you can also read it on google docs if you'd prefer).

What is Nationalism?

To start this all, we need to take a moment to step away from Minecraft roleplay to actually talk about nationalism itself. Since I know most of you are here to hear about the Minecraft roleplay aspect, I’ll try to keep it as brief as possible, but it is very important for context. I’ll bold (and color) the main points if you just want to read those before skipping down to the L’manberg section, but you’re more than welcome to read all of this. 

To understand nationalism, you need to understand a bit about how it came to be, which requires a bit of knowledge about the transition from pre-modern to modern times. In general, this transition is often thought to have occurred in the mid-18th century during the Age of Enlightenment and during the time when a lot of revolutions were taking place, such as the American Revolution and the French Revolution. But it’s important to note that there isn’t really such a clear cut line of when this transition from pre-modern to modern times happened, and, in many ways, this change is still occurring to this day.

The most important aspect of this change to think about in the context of this post is in terms of religion, though I will also briefly talk about the shift from dynastic rule to democracy. I want to start off by briefly talking about this because, in many ways, nationalism has taken on the role that religion held in pre-modern times. (Side note: this isn’t to say nationalism replaced religion, but the widespread role of religion in people’s lives today is different than it was in, say, the 14th century). 

In pre-modern times, religion gave people a sense of belonging, and this idea of belonging is something I’ll come back to, but, for now, you should know that nationalism gives a similar sense of belonging. I won’t get into too much detail about why Anderson specifically says this is a sense of belonging to an imagined community, but it basically comes down to the fact that you’ll never know everyone in your community (whether that be religious or national), but you still feel a sense of belonging to the collective.

“Okay, Stella, very interesting, but you still haven’t defined nationalism.” Alright, alright, I’ll define nationalism, which requires me to define a nation. In Anderson’s words, from page 6 of Imagined Communities, “it is an imagined political community—and imagined as both inherently limited and sovereign.” I want you to take a note specifically of it being inherently limited and file that away for later. 

I said I was going to briefly discuss the shift from dynastic rule to democracy, so I’ll do that now. So, a couple things about these dynastic rules with centralized power: firstly, it was believed that the monarchs had some sort of divine right to rule from God (see how this ties into religion?), and, secondly, a lot of borders were less defined the further you got from the centralized powers. Obviously, with the shift from pre-modern to modern times, both of these things changed, bringing the idea of giving power to the people, and also bringing more concrete borders.

Anyway, moving on. Nations are imagined as inherently limited because no one imagines one nation as encompassing all of humanity. Yes, in modern times borders are very concrete and defined, but it goes beyond that—in a person’s mind, nations are limited because there are always people who do not belong to the nation. It’s not often thought about, but with a sense of belonging comes exclusion. The entire concept of belonging comes from the idea of being with people who are similar to you, and this implies the existence of people who are so dissimilar that you don’t belong with them, and, thus, they don’t belong with you. It can easily become a double edged sword, I think; there is comfort in belonging to a collective, but it can be all too easy to fall into an “us vs them” mentality, which is going to be an important point moving forward.

So, how does this all relate to a Minecraft Roleplay?

L’manberg and Nationalism

Onto the fun stuff! Minecraft Roleplay! Obviously, L’manberg is a nation, so I’m sure you can already see how nationalism is going to play a role, but let’s get into it. First, though, I’d like to give a minor disclaimer that not everything is going to fit perfectly simply on account of the fact that the DSMP takes place in a very sparsely inhabited world, and, honestly, that alone makes governmental structures of any kind really interesting to look at, but I digress since it’s not the point of this post. (It also means that nationalism as talked about in this post isn’t really an imagined community like Anderson claims it is. From a meta standpoint, you could say this sense of nationalism actually leaked into the audience itself, but in the story it’s not really an imagined community).

The DSMP starts out as a world with no borders and no governmental structures of any kind—it starts with no nations. Rather, the DSMP in itself is a cohesive community to which everyone belongs. It’s not a community like nationalism, nor is it a community like religion, nor is it an imagined community in any way. As previously stated, the DSMP is a sparsely populated world, and, at least at the start, everyone knows each other or knows of each other as an individual. This sense of belonging is more akin to a group of friends than anything else, which I think makes the introduction of nationalism especially interesting. 

c!Wilbur. What a guy, am I right? He shows up to the server, and he brings with him capitalism and the idea of monopolizing resources—there’s an interesting post to be made about that, I’m sure, but not the point of this one—and, most importantly, he brings with him the concept of a nation. He’s putting up borders, putting up walls, and essentially dividing a place that used to be united, citing L’manberg as an independent country, which is does not include everyone in the server (it’s limited), and which is separate from the DSMP and essentially is its “own server” (it’s sovereign). Sound familiar? Yeah, it’s ✨nationalism✨

I’ve seen posts talking about the fact that L’manberg was specifically satirizing nationalism, and though, despite my efforts, I couldn’t find these posts (if anyone has them please send them to me! I’d love to re-read them and link them in this post), I do think it’s true. I think there’s a lot to be said about L’manberg from a narrative and meta standpoint, and I think there’s a lot to be said about the fact that c!Wilbur was always written as a villain in the story (and not just during the Pogtopia arc, despite popular belief), but I can’t get into it all in this post. So, what I do want to do is come back to the concept of belonging and how that always comes with exclusion, and I want to talk about the “us vs them” mentality.

The reason I say L’manberg is satirizing nationalism is because it takes these facets of nationalism to the extreme. It’s not just a place made to give people a sense of belonging which in turn creates exclusion; L’manberg is a xenophobic nation, and I would go as far to say that its founding was based more on exclusion than inclusion. That is to say, the exclusive aspect was not just an unfortunate yet inevitable side effect of creating a nation. From the very start, L’manberg was founded on the exclusion of non-Europeons, and, more specifically, the exclusion of Americans. Sapnap actually originally wanted to join, but he was denied because he’s American. L’manberg wasn’t ever some place accepting of anyone who came to it, and it wasn’t a place to be free from tyranny, but let’s get into the idea of L’manberg going against tyranny. 

The “us vs them” mentality is already extremely dangerous and something to be wary of, and it’s something I think we should constantly be checking ourselves on, but L’manberg takes that to a further extreme. I don’t want you to think this point is completely separate from the point I made before, because they do very much connect to each other and are intertwined. Nations are limited. This means there will always be people who don’t belong to any given nation. Obviously, in this case, members of the greater DSMP do not belong to L’manberg. (I think it’s also helpful to remember that c!Wilbur specifically didn’t allow dual-citizenship; c!Tubbo initially wanted to be a citizen of both the greater DSMP and L’manberg, but that wasn’t allowed, so in the end he became a citizen of only L’manberg).

But, this wasn’t just a case of the greater DSMP being separate from L’manberg. No, they were tyrants that L’manberg was escaping from. c!Dream was a tyrant that L’manberg was fighting against. It’s taking the “us vs them” mentality to an extreme of “we are the righteous good guys fighting against oppression and tyranny, and they are the tyrants trying to oppress us.” It sure sounds like a noble cause—and you can always count on c!Wilbur to spout pretty words that convince people to play on his terms—but is that really the case? In a place that previously had no nations and no real defined hierarchy of power, how could tyranny exist? As I said before, the DSMP previously was more like a group of friends living in a commune than anything else, and tyranny doesn’t really seem applicable in that context, does it? This is c!Wilbur spinning a narrative that is going to continue to affect the SMP all the way to the very end, and it’s also what places c!Dream and c!Tommy on opposite sides from the very beginning, by establishing that extreme “us vs them” mentality.

(Oh, it should also be noted that the “us vs them” mentality very often leads to the dehumanization of the other side, so keep that in mind for when we get to c!Dream). 

(Also there’s something to be said about the L’manberg revolution being heavily based on Hamilton, which is based on the American Revolution, which was a very key part of the transition from pre-modern to modern times and how that relates to nationalism, but this post is already getting long enough).

So, yeah, L’manberg was satirizing nationalism. And, ultimately, L’manberg was never good for the server as a whole.

c!Dream and Nationalism, even in the wake of L’manberg

Ough. c!Dream… :( oh he really did walk the path laid out for him by c!Wilbur to the very end, didn’t he?

Listen, everything c!Dream does on the server is ultimately tied back to the founding of L’manberg, and, in turn, to the introduction of nationalism to the server. One of c!Dream’s primary goals is unity (or, specifically, the unity and simplicity of the server from pre-L’manberg times), and this is antithetical to nationalism, or, at least, to the extreme form of nationalism that L’manberg brought. Because nationalism brought division, and division brought conflict, and conflict brought death (specifically canon deaths). And, well, we all know how much death is a motivator for c!Dream.

(Also, there is something to be said about the start of nationalism and nations on the server not being framed as a good thing in the narrative, how it was satirizing and criticizing the concept of nationalism, and there’s something to be said about how the narrative agrees with the group of anarchists—the Syndicate—who push against the idea of nations. But, well, that’s also a post for another day). 

Now, obviously, unity is not c!Dream’s only motivation—actually, I think we’d all agree that the thing that motivated c!Dream the most was fear. But, a lot of this fear does tie back to L’manberg and the narrative built by c!Wilbur. So, let’s for a moment take a look at how this narrative affected other people’s perceptions of c!Dream.

Remember how I said the “us vs them” mentality often leads to dehumanization? Well, well, well. Listen, this is dreblr. The dehumanization of c!Dream has been talked about to death, but that’s because it’s always relevant to his character!! And I’m here to say that this dehumanization started all the way back during the L’manberg revolution when c!Wilbur labeled c!Dream a tyrant. Obviously the dehumanization of c!Dream is incredibly apparent with the revive book and in Pandora’s Vault, but this is not a post about the box, unfortunately (I’m sorry—I know we all love the box here 💔).

c!Dream’s dehumanization started the moment he was labeled as a tyrant and the moment he was labeled as the “enemy.” He became the “them” in the “us vs them” mentality that was adopted by L’manberg. He’s the oppressor they need to defeat, and he’s the monster that needs to be slain. And this is important because this never went away. Even after L’manberg was gone, the concept of nations and the concept of “us vs them,” never went away! c!Dream was still the enemy that needed to be killed! And, over the course of time when L’manberg was still around, c!Dream lost pretty much everyone. Everyone was turning against him, people were using attachments against him, and people wanted to kill him (New L’manberg was planning to execute him under the false pretense of a peaceful celebration!). And, yes, he did plenty of bad things during this time (namely exile), but I think we should also remember that most people did not know about what happened during exile at this time. They wanted to kill him because he was powerful and dangerous, and he wasn’t with them so he was against them because that’s the narrative L’manberg created—if they’re not with us, they’re against us.

Everyone was against him, and he was spiraling (pushed further by the existence of the revive book) to the point that he commissioned the build of a giant, obsidian, inescapable prison and he locked himself in there with the hope that it would protect him and save his life. (☹️) Obviously that didn’t work like he’d hoped, but… well… 

As I said before: none of this stuff went away even after L’manberg was gone. The concept of nationalism didn’t magically disappear from the server just because L’manberg was destroyed. Nations kept popping up. The server kept splitting itself into more pieces and factions, and it all became so convoluted. I think it’s important to remember the population of the SMP—they don’t really have enough people to make functioning governments, yet they keep trying to make nations, anyway. They’re following L’manberg’s footsteps. They’re chasing this concept of nationalism.

Obviously this affected everyone’s lives, but it really did ruin c!Dream’s life. The introduction of nationalism is what causes c!Dream’s life to essentially start falling apart. I don’t want to rehash stuff that’s already been said a lot in dreblr, so there’s a lot about c!Dream’s motivations and story that I’m not including, but I want to bring our attention to a certain line c!Dream said in the finale streams: “Why can’t things be simple again?”

Because things were simple before all this! It was a group of friends making a home!! They built the community center because the server was meant to be a cohesive community of friends. There was never a need for nations or governments! It was just a group of friends making a home together! And then it all became so convoluted, and there were nations when there didn’t need to be any, and people were being divided into sides and being divided into “us” and “them,” and it was so irrevocably different from what the server started as. And I don’t think c!Dream ever really figured out how to accept that it was irrevocable :( and even he himself was blindsided by the story crafted by L’manberg and by c!Wilbur, to the point that he didn’t even fully understand his own goals! Because he (and everyone else) got so used to nationalism on the server and factions and conflicts and “us” vs “them,” that he didn’t even realize he just wanted things to go back to how they were :( oughhhh c!dreamie :((

Sorry to devolve into emotions at the end of this, but it’s not an academic paper, so I think you should cut me some slack. It’s just :( “I don’t ever want to be alone” because with nationalism comes exclusion and it eventually brought c!Dream to a point where he was so, so alone and :( He makes me so sad </3

Anyway, the reason the DSMP didn’t end with c!Dream dead at c!Tommy’s hands is because that was never the point of the story—that was the narrative L’manberg was trying to spin, but that was never what the story was actually about. It took up until the very end for them to break free from the story of L’manberg.

(And, it’s been mentioned many times before, but there’s a reason this was never able to happen until c!Wilbur was removed from the narrative. c!Dream and c!Wilbur and c!Tommy are absolutely crucial in each other’s character arcs, and you can’t really understand any of the duo relationships without considering the third (says the person guilty of writing c!Dreambur fanworks without always thinking about c!Tommy lmao, but hey at least it’s not analysis, right?) but that’s also a post for another day).

I never really know how to conclude things. I’m kind of worried I’m forgetting stuff, and I apologize if I did forget stuff, but I’ve been working on this for, like, 4 and a half hours and am getting tired lmao. But my main points are that L’manberg was satirizing and criticizing nationalism, that the concept of nationalism stuck with the SMP until the very end, and that the concept of nationalism from the beginning set up c!Dream to be the villain (and, really, this is largely in part because L’manberg from the beginning set up c!Dream to be a villain, and I don’t think you can feasibly separate L’manberg from nationalism). Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk! Feel free to ask questions and discuss further, and I will do my best to respond lol.

[stylinsoncity]

This SEL timestamp takes place about a year after the events in Rio and a few months after they've toured the rest of South America. As mentioned in chp 25, they've started traveling to preternatural villages around the world. This covers some of that.

This is sort of integral to stories about vampires, but there's a lot of talk about feeding, etc. Just fyi!

Enjoy!

The Inner Village might be Harry’s favourite of all the preternatural villages they’ve been to. He’s not saying he’s ready to move to New York City and he can’t imagine Louis is either. But there are pockets of the Inner Village that are incredibly wonderfully gay and coming from their close-minded town, it’s a relief. There, they attend a drag show operated entirely by witches. They also meet Kristen and Teo from the Stonewall Coven, a found coven made up of queer witches. Harry has never met or heard of a found coven, at least not in Europe. He has a loving coven of his own, but the idea that there are witches uniting to support and love each other as family nearly makes him cry. Seated at their dimly lit bar table, the emotion is so obvious on Harry’s face, although only Louis catches it. He smiles and gently squeezes Harry’s hand in his own. The two of them garner some attention of their own, although they’re used to it by now. Even here in such a progressive place, a vampire and witch coupling up is rare.

“Like, sex is a different story,” Teo says. “Obviously, we’ve all fucked a vampire.”

Louis lifts his brows, his lips curling. “Are we just a fetish to you?”

Harry sputters, trying to complete a sip of his martini.

“I mean…” Teo shrugs. “I think most vampires would say fucking a witch is a fetish to them. And listen, I’m trans. I have to deal with men fetishizing me for that too. None of it’s ideal. But when it comes to witches and vampires, it’s like fire and water. Anything beyond a hookup is uncharted territory. And no one ever dares to try.”

“You should,” Louis says. “You’ll have more men to pick from. Ones who aren’t dickheads.”

“Well, if you have a twin brother, send him my way,” says Teo, their gaze lingering on Louis for a second longer than Harry likes.

“We were a bit like that at first, fire and water,” Harry cuts in. “But now, nothing makes more sense than this. We’ve just been told for centuries that witches and vampires can’t get on. And it’s not true.”

“And how long have you been dating?” Kristen asks. “Because if you say it’s only been a month or so, I’ll need more proof than that.”

“It’s been a little over a year officially,” Harry says.

“And also,” Louis says, lifting their joined hands from beneath the table, turning their hands so Harry’s ring catches the scarce light in the room. “We’re engaged.”

“Well, fuck,” Kristen says. And when Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s hand a second later, she adds, “Okay, I’m sold.”

It’s not to say that great love only exists between a vampire and a witch. Harry’s parents had a beautiful marriage, exactly the kind he wanted for himself. And Louis’ mum and Perry love each other deeply.

It’s only to say that great love exists in places some might not think to look. Sometimes it starts between rivals. Sometimes it takes years to flourish. Sometimes it feels like the universe is completely opposed. But sometimes it’s there waiting, in the most uncanny places, if you want it badly enough.

†

Every day in New York, they get up to something new. They tour museums and art galleries, including one where Louis buys him a painting and has it shipped to the estate for safekeeping. They dine at restaurants from Michelin-starred rooftop establishments to hole-in-the-wall haunts. They day drink (and night drink) and nap in parks in between. They make the most of their month-long stay. No, they won’t be relocating but Harry already knows they’ll be back. Often.

That day, after brunch and a bit of shopping, they retire to their rental penthouse to escape an incoming thunderstorm. The day isn’t a loss at all. He found the stick and poke kit he wanted so that Louis could attempt to tattoo him. After an order of sushi and a shared shower, they get started.

“Was nice to see Teo and Kristen again last night,” Harry says, mostly to distract himself from the initial shock of pain. “And all their friends too.”

“Yeah, they’re a fun lot,” Louis says. “Fucking crazy too. Crazier than us when we want to be.”

“I think Teo has a tiny crush on you.”

“Yeah, but it’ll go away.”

“Oh, so you agree?”

“When we hugged, their heart did a bit of a thing. That’s all.” Louis looks at him. “Now yours is too.”

“Do you think they’re attractive?”

Louis exhales a small laugh. “They’re objectively good-looking. Haven’t thought about it beyond that.”

“Everyone has a crush on you. It’s annoying,” Harry says.

“Who’s everyone?”

“In every place we’ve been to, there’s always someone who starts to fancy you a little. Isabelle in Argentina, remember? Damien? I think he was in Peru. Oh, when we went to Italy. The twins we met? Justine and Luca? They were both into you.”

“Isabelle was technically into both of us,” Louis says. “And I’ve got a list of my own, love. You’re just a bit better with names than I am. The girl with the pink hair last night? She couldn’t stop looking at you.”

“Venus?”

“Should’ve remembered that, to be fair. But yes.”

Harry doesn’t remember her looking at him, but maybe that’s the point.

“I don’t mind, so long as none of them get too close,” Louis says. “I know you’re all mine.”

Then he glances at Harry. Harry actually feels his heart skip a beat. Louis smiles and refocuses on his work. He’s tattooing a bird to match the one Harry tattooed on him a year ago. It’s just a simple outline and for his first shot at tattooing, it’s looking quite nice already.

“Does it hurt?” Louis asks.

Harry shrugs. “Not too much. You’re gentler than I am when I tattoo myself,” he says. He watches him wipe blood and ink away. A thought strikes him. “Do you feel thirsty doing that?”

Louis’ hand stills momentarily.

“Just a question,” Harry says tentatively.

“I always feel thirsty around you,” Louis says, his gaze focused intently on the tattoo. “I’ve said so before.”

“But not literally.”

“No, literally.”

“So, even after you’ve fed?”

“I’ve said so before,” Louis says again. “Even when I’ve fed, the thirst is still there. Just…quieter or something.”

“So, if you could keep drinking, you would?”

Louis pauses and looks at him, lifting the needle away from Harry’s skin. “I don’t get the question.”

Harry's senses tingle slightly due to a subtle shift in Louis' mood. He tries to choose his words carefully, but no matter how he twists and shapes the sentences in his head nothing really works.

“I’d never hurt you,” Louis says. “It’s impossible for me to hurt you. Because I love you and you’re my mate. And if something were to happen to you and you weren’t here, I wouldn’t want to be either.”

“I know that,” Harry says quietly. And he should leave it there, but— “I don’t know if that fully answers the question.”

“Have you got infinite blood? ‘Cause that’d be news to me. There’s no universe where if I kept drinking, it wouldn’t kill you, is there? So, no. The answer is fuck no.”

“Why are you getting so angry? It’s just a question.”

“Why are you asking me if I want to drain you of blood?” Louis fires back.

“It’s not like it’d kill me, Louis. I’d come back.”

Louis blinks. “What?”

“I can’t die. We’ve established that.”

“But you did die!” Louis says. His voice breaks. His jaw locks. Willow finally appears in the room and curls herself around Louis’ ankle. After a breath, Louis tries again. “Your heart stopped for long enough that you were dead. I know it.”

“Yes, but I came back,” Harry says.

“But you still died, yeah? Whether you came back or not, you’d be dead. So, no, I don’t want to fucking kill you. I don’t think about it. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Okay.”

“Now, explain to me why it sounds like you want me to?” And when Harry doesn’t immediately refute that, Louis’ eyes go wide. He puts the needle down on the sterile tray beside them with the small ink pots and stained tissues. “Are you actually serious right now?”

Harry just wants to be honest. Because truthfully, he never considered these thoughts so egregious, but he also never dared to share them with Louis either. Now, that he mostly has, it feels deceitful to not come out with all of it. And he’s also learned that it’s better to expose the whole truth as uncomfortable and as painful as it may be. Better to do that than spend an eternity keeping this to himself.

“Before, when I thought I’d die from the curse, I thought about it,” Harry says. “But only ‘cause I feel safest with you, and it seemed like the most ideal way to go if I had to go at all.”

Louis laughs. Actually cackles. And stands. “Good thing you didn’t think to ask. I would’ve assumed you’d gone completely insane.” He yanks his latex glove off and tosses it onto the coffee table.

“Where are you going?”

“I need a drink,” Louis says, strolling off towards the kitchen.

Harry puts his face in his palms for a moment. They bicker on occasion, solely because they’re both stubborn, highly opinionated people. But he can’t remember the last time either of them was genuinely cross with the other. He feels Louis’ cloying anger even when they’re in separate rooms.

Willow lingers in the corridor, visibly uncertain about who needs the most comfort. Mentally, Harry sends her to Louis. He could use a drink himself. He loiters there on the couch for a minute or two longer, waiting for Louis to come back. And when he doesn’t, Harry sighs and goes after him.

In the kitchen, Louis has a beer open in front of him while he taps away furiously at his phone.

“Will you please relax?” Harry asks. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Louis says. “Here we are having a nice night and you reveal you’ve got a death kink or whatever it is.”

“I haven’t got a death kink,” Harry says. “For fuck’s sake…”

Louis sets his phone down. “When you had that thought back then, did you also consider what it’d be like for me? To watch you slip away? To be the cause of that?”

“I did, actually. Which is why I didn’t bring it up back then. I knew you wouldn’t do it.”

“Because I can’t.”

“Fine. But you clearly don’t know how it feels for me either. On the receiving end of things. It’s like…euphoric. It feels like I could just sink into it and stay there forever. And I’m sorry if that worries you or whatever. I’m not saying I want to die. I’m not saying I want you to kill me. I’m saying when you feed, if there was a way to feel the way I feel infinitely, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. I’m just saying I’ve thought about it. That’s all.”

“But that’s impossible. Without me killing you.”

“Yes, you’ve said. I get it.”

“I could never.”

“You said that too,” Harry says. “There’s the blood curse anyway, so—”

“Even without the blood curse…never.”

“Okay,” Harry says. “I’m sorry I mentioned it at all, alright? Can you finish my tattoo, please? Before you get drunk?”

Louis rolls his eyes and has another swig of his beer.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says again. “Come on, Lou, please?”

Louis looks at him, his eyes slightly narrowed as he thinks. With a shake of his head and a sigh, he says, “Yeah, alright,” and starts back to the living room. Quietly he puts his glove back on and sterilises the needle. Then he starts on the tattoo again.

Harry pushes his fingers through Louis’ fringe. “Are you cross with me?”

“No,” Louis says. “Just let me concentrate. Or I’ll tattoo a penis here and be done with it.”

“I don’t mind a penis, though, do I?”

“A lopsided one,” Louis clarifies. “With very hairy wrinkly balls.”

Harry laughs and relaxes his arm. “Such an arsehole.”

“I can add one of those too.”

When they laugh, the tiny hint of tension left between them is hardly of any consequence at all. And later, when they crawl into bed, Louis draws him into his arm like always. Harry traces his collarbone with his fingertip while listening to Willow scurrying about on the floor. For a cat who can phase silently through the air, she’s making plenty of noise with every move. When she darts up onto the bed and then immediately flings herself to the floor, Louis laughs.

“You wouldn’t think a familiar would get the Zoomies, would you?” Harry says.

“She’s just like any cat, I guess,” Louis says.

“I don’t think she’d like that,” Harry says. “I think she considers herself a very unique, one-of-a-kind cat.”

“Makes sense, considering who she’s bound to.”

“Are you saying I think too highly of myself?”

“No,” Louis says. “You should think highly of yourself. And you’re definitely one of a kind.”

Harry smiles. “So are you. There could never be anyone like you.”

Louis turns and presses a kiss on Harry’s forehead. Harry nestles more comfortably into Louis’ side, his eyes slipping shut.

“I’m sorry I lost it a bit earlier,” Louis says quietly.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t share things with me. Even something like that.”

“I don’t. But if it’s something you’re uncomfortable with, I should be more careful. And I will be.”

Then there’s silence and more inexplicable tension. Harry suddenly feels less sleepy than he did seconds ago. He lifts his head off Louis’ shoulder and looks at him.

“It’s impossible for me to do it, I mean that,” Louis says, meeting his gaze.

“I know, Louis,” Harry says. “And I’m not asking you to.”

“But I am who I am,” Louis goes on. “Or what I am. So it’d be a lie to say I haven’t thought about it.”

Harry hesitates. “About draining…”

Louis pinches his eyelids. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Okay. How would you put it then?”

“There’ve been times after I’ve fed, especially…if we’re fucking at the same time, when I want to drink again or I want to keep drinking, even though I know… And there was a time when I was drunk and it was a little hard to stop.”

As he speaks, he doesn’t look at Harry. As if he’s ashamed. Harry reclines again and takes Louis’ face between his palms.

“Look at me. That’s alright,” Harry says. “I love you. I love how much you want me.”

Louis winces at that. “That makes it sound more innocent than it is.”

“Whatever. I won’t lie and say it’s not…sort of exciting? And like…It’s not that much different from when you choke me a little, is it?”

“It’s completely different.”

“Not to me. Not completely. You say you wouldn’t hurt me but spanking hurts,” Harry says with a laugh. “And I like it.”

“Also, different.”

“If you say so,” Harry says. “I know that for you it’s something you have to control. For me, I know you’re in control, so I don’t worry. I just let go. And it feels nice to let go. I know you’ve got me.”

“I do,” Louis says. “Always.”

“You’re getting enough to drink, though, yeah? Like that’s not the reason you want to keep going, is it?”

“Trust me, it’s not. I get enough,” Louis says.

“You’re just greedy then.”

“I’m a vampire,” Louis says. “Greed is what we’re all about.”

“You’re not like most vampires, though.”

“Maybe not, but there are things that are just biological. Like my bond with you. Can’t do anything about that. And no matter what, if you say something like you said today, offering yourself up like that, there’s a part of me, even if it’s small, that wants to take you up on it. And just…devour you.”

Harry looks at his mouth. “And I’m meant to be afraid of that?”

“Maybe,” Louis says. “Not of me, but the general idea of a vampire wanting you in that way, yeah.”

“You’re the only vampire that matters.”

Louis grins, his ego visibly stroked. Harry can’t take his eyes off of him.

“If it were any other vampire, I’d never say the things I said today. It’s only because it’s you. I trust you. Completely.”

Louis looks at him. He takes Harry’s hand and presses a quick kiss to his palm. “I can’t do it, though.”

“I know,” Harry says. “I thought I lost you that day too, you know? I felt like I couldn’t breathe. And like the world was closing in on me or something. So, I know what it’s like. And I’d never want you to have to go through that again.”

Louis nods. “Me neither.”

Harry looks at his mouth again. “But I think you should feed,” he says. “Right now.”

Louis lifts his brows. With a small exhale, he says, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Literally the opposite. I’m offering you a late-night snack.”

Louis laughs. “You’re definitely that,” he says. He licks his lips. Then, after a second, he leans in and kisses Harry slowly, capturing his jaw between his fingers and his thumb. He kisses him for so long Harry nearly forgets what they were talking about at all. He’s hypnotized by Louis’ tongue against his own. He’s lulled by the comfort of their bodies close.

Their lives are not perfect because no one’s is. They still have occasional worries, especially when they have to decide which parties and gatherings to attend back home when everywhere they go, they’re a topic of discussion or gossip. Returning to Ravenoir even for short periods is often stressful. And like earlier has proven, they can still misunderstand each other.

Life might not be perfect but being with Louis is. There’s nothing questionable or unsatisfactory about this kiss or the way Louis holds him. There’s nothing as sublime as the moment he pulls away suddenly, holds Harry’s jaw firmly and sinks into his jugular.

Harry shudders and digs his fingers into Louis’ bicep. The burst of pain is quickly washed over with warmth that floods his whole body. His head feels light and airy as if he’s floating on a cloud. Weightless and worriless with nothing to fear. With Louis’ need so evident and certain and all-encompassing.

Louis pulls away with a deep breath and kisses him again. Now that Harry can move, he moves with purpose, shoving Louis' pyjamas down past his waist, wrestling with his own.

“Thought I was only getting a late-night snack,” Louis says.

“It’s more like a late-night buffet,” Harry says. “All you can eat.”

Louis laughs as he sinks down Harry’s body, leaving kisses all along his chest and abs. “Mm, I do like the sound of that,” he says.

Harry will have to blame it on all the pent-up tension, good and bad, but when Louis deepthroats his cock, he thinks he could come with just another second more of that pressure. Then Louis pulls off, smiling as if he knows it, and licks a few times along the length of his cock instead. Because as he’s clarified thoroughly today, Louis is a vampire. Vampires like to toy with and tease their prey. And Harry knows Louis doesn’t think of him as prey, but sometimes Harry feels like he is. And he doesn’t mind at all.

The truth is that Harry would bare every part of himself to Louis without hesitation or fear. He would accept whatever Louis wanted to give or take from him. Maybe if it were another vampire, that sort of thinking would be insane. But it’s solely this vampire who matters. No other would do.

He often likes to hold Louis atop him after they’ve come to prolong the closeness. He likes the weight of him. He likes running his fingers through his hair until Louis drifts off. "Louis?"

"Hm?"

“It’s not difficult, is it? Feeling thirsty all the time?” Harry asks quietly. Because the thought is on his mind and if he doesn’t ask, he’ll just stay awake worrying about it.

“No,” Louis says sleepily. “Not at all."

"You're sure?"

"I promise," Louis says. He draws a breath. "Thirst is tied to emotion. Like lust and love… And you’re a triple threat, that’s all. You’re hot. You taste incredible. Can’t help that. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Harry smiles. "Makes sense..." He listens to Louis’ breathing evening out. He feels his limbs loosening further. “Wait, what’s the third thing?”

“What?”

“You said triple threat.”

“Oh,” Louis says. “You’re hot. You taste incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

“Just tell me,” Harry pleads.

“You’re the love of my life, Harry,” Louis says. “I reckon that’s the biggest one of all.”

It’s not the first time Louis has said so, but it’s also impossible to get used to something like that. Hearing the person he loves most affirm the inverse is true will never cease to amaze him. So, he feels his eyes prickle slightly, but he doesn’t actually burst into tears or anything. He simply wraps his arms more tightly around his fiance. “And you’re mine.”

“I know,” Louis says. “Can I sleep now, babe?”

“Yeah. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Good night.”

“Night,” Louis says.

“I love you so much.”

“Harry.”

“Okay. Sleep well.”

“You too,” Louis says. And then after a second, he whispers, “I love you.”

Willow hops up onto the bed in the midst of their laughter at which point, they mutually decide to turn their love on her. Because great love is also infinite, which means there’s plenty to spare.

[macaron-n-cheese]

There is evidence that Thomas Jefferson may have been queer

Over the weekend I went to a history conference as one does. I was looking at the program and one of the lectures caught my eye. I was like "wait is that lecture what I think it is because if it is that would be awesome" so I went. It WAS awesome. The lecture was by an archivist who is doing a project on Jefferson's writings. Her background qualifies her to analyze 18th-century letters.

So basically she was reading books because that's what librarians do and the quotation “No body knows how much I wish to be with you” was very obviously right there. She realized that no one has done research on this before and decided to be the one to do it. The lecturer is still in progress if analyzing Jefferson’s papers and library.

To be clear, this lecture states that there is not enough evidence to definitively say Jefferson was queer, but just evidence that seems to be queer. The evidence is clearly homosocial, but anything beyond that can only be inferred.

my notes (my apologies if they are confusing at any point)

hahhahehheheh Jefferson: “No body knows how much I wish to be with you” Jefferson and Page and the Intimacy of Encryption

Same talk given to LGBTQ+ group

Coded letters to John Page

Page lives at Roseburg! Jefferson went there a lot

Scared people would find his letters so be encrypted

But he liked it like it was a game

Send real info but also bestie stuff

Impossible to determine Jefferson as queer but this is just fun

How do you define letters as queer or no?

Gender switch, Greek letters, codes

Coding citizenship, gender, sexuality

Homosocial bonds develop when yapping about exchange of women

Jefferson dirty enslaver grrrr

Sally Hemmings :(

Jefferson thought libraries, newspaper, education were essential to American nationality

Letters technology of collective fantasy

Lost history of cryptology

Jefferson father of American cryptology

Homosociality and stuff

Gay? 🤨 I mean he read ancient gay stuff

Trafficking women part of this (like using wives/daughters to connect families) :(

Connect families

Cedric mother of queer theory

Tools for examining must be subtle and definitive

Variable and political

Emerging subject categories in Jefferson’s writings

William Bendamen shows that Jefferson would be aware of queerness from what is in his library

Gay porn in 18th century WHAT

he owns gay porn caught in 4k

Lots of this is encoded, destroyed, difference in language & culture

Buggery laws

THE LETTERS to Page. 20 January 1763

Friends from youth to Page’s death in 1808

Letter from Shadwell. Jefferson is around 20.

“Why can you and I not be married, too?”

The commas, references, tenses, Latin is hard to attribute

Friendship or queer is unknown

Reference to laws of human nature. Early scientific musings of relationships

Elusiveness of understanding may be intentional.

Life together supported by letter 6 months later

Rebecca Burwell. Belinda

Plans to propose to her and writes to Page from Williamsburg “Devilsburg”

Refers to Belinda as “he”

Rejected by her

If it worked he and Page related by marriage between Burwells

Written like business transaction. (trafficking of women between men)

Many homosocial letters talk about trafficking of women

Jefferson thought his letter was interception and is super paranoid

Ask Page if he found this

Jefferson freaking out and asks him to being better code. I’m going to send you this.

Develops wheel cipher

3 months later Jefferson finds out Rebecca married to something else

Page marries. Jefferson moves to Monticello, marries Martha

Last letter

I can die with sweet resignation after reading your letter

Letters from Page lost in Shadwell fire

Page and Jefferson letters are ones between young men and are representative of such

Jefferson uncomfortable with women. Kinda misogyny but he’s so confusing so it’s hard to classify

Categorizing Jefferson but it’s all connected

This is technique to secure bonds among wealthy planter elite. College friends! This is before Revolution and stuff

There is so much to cover

Jefferson weird and paper expensive. He knows papers are to be shared and he decided NUH UH.

Jefferson morals vs action

Notes on Virginia. RACIST

Black writers at bottom in notes and in library

Boooo he’s a loser

Kicks off institutionalization in America

Jefferson isn’t the only one to code

Anne Lister codes. Puts lesbian letters in crypt.

This info puts my post from a year ago about Martha Jefferson’s epitaph into context, actually! The Greek reference and gender swapping is just Thomas’s thing with people closest to him. I wonder how many others got this treatment...Jefferson and gender is really something else, like bro can't interact with women yet swaps their gender in writing. What's going on in his silly autistic (probably) brain? Referencing mythology is also pretty cool like what a nerd using ancient Greek analogies.

I always found his coding interesting but just haven’t researched it. This new research is special to me because @asica-black and I used to discuss Jefferson’s coding and think “hey do you think these were coded and he worried that people would accuse him of buggery?” and answer is most likely yes!

So yeah it seems like Jefferson had a boyfriend.

[one-idea]

Part 2 of my reverse/alternate universe strawhat pirates

Master post

Part 1 can be read here

Part 1/2

Part 3

Part 4

So we have Captain Ace

Swordswoman Kuina

Navigator Nojiko

TBD Kaya

Cook Reiju

Doctor Hirikul

(And Koza the politician)

And now we have the addition of Nico Olivia. Much like Robin in the true cannon she joins the ew after they defeat Crocodile, and Ace saves her life.

She starts journeying with the crew. And I know we always kinda poke fun at Robin and her gaggle of teenagers but Olivia is really signed up for mom duty. In the beginning she’s holding back waiting for the day she will have to leave but part of her loves it. Loves seeing her young crewmates run around the boat and think what she could have had with her daughter.

Olivia went out on her journey to study the lost century. And just like in cannon she was caught. Saul frees her and they rush back to Ohara but it’s to late. The Buster call is already over. The islands is destroyed and daughter is dead. Since she escaped from prison she is still wanted by the government and spend the next 20 years running with three goals.

To complete Ohara’s goal of discovering the true history

To take out as many marines along the way as she can

To find her daughters devil fruit. The only thing that still exists that could connect her to her daughter.

Over the years it got harder for her to keep going. She is making very little progress on the first goal. But she has found Robin’s devil fruit and with it has been doing a good job and accomplishing goal 2. But it’s lonely and she misses her home and her daughter more than anything. She ready to give up when Crocodile stabs her. Only for Ace to save her.

Ace who knows exactly what it’s like to want to die. Ace who’s reason to live is a sunny boy in a straw hat still in the East blue.

Ace saves her and tells her to find someone ti live for. Neither of them knew that that someone would be himself and the rest of his crew. Olivia’s new family. Her new stupid son. (Ace gets to hang with a mom guys!)

They still do the Skyla trip but they don’t meet Blackbeard. No he’s coming later.

Instead they make their way to water 7. Their ship needs to be replaced, it’s taken a beating and Kaya doesn’t take it well. Not to the point of challenging Ace for the ship but it hurts. This was her gift to the crew. She’s not a good fighter (yet) she’s stronger then she was but that’s pitiful to rest of the crew. She’s the youngest and weakest member, the momey she brought with her has all been used. The only claim she has to being helpful is that she gave them the ship. The ship they are getting rid of.

Like I said I don’t think it gets to Luffy and Usopp’s fight but there’s a lot of hurt. It helps that Hirikul is there and as an older and more experienced member he’s able to help keep tension down. (I also think he and Kaya would be close with her training under him as a doctor)

I would love to expand on this if anyone wants it

But of course they need a new ship. And Olivia is missing and everything’s a mess. And to add insult to injury the whole town thinks they’re trying to assassinate mayor Tom.

And his son/apprentice Iceburg won’t let that kind of threat go unpunished.

In the past when Franky’s ships attacked Water 7 and Tom, Iceburg, and Franky got arrested for it. Franky thought about all the harm he had caused and how Iceburg always told him to take responsibility for his actions. When Tom tried to take the blame for the ship attack Franky cut him off. Telling the judge he planned the whole thing. That it was his fault. He didn’t think the Judge would pardon Tom so he thought if he got ride of the Judge Tom would be free.

No one believes him. Tom and Iceburg are kicking up a storm to deny Franky’s involvement and Spandam is fuming because this was his plan to get Tom not this kid. But the Judge doesn’t want to take Tom. This whole thing is fishy and the boy just gave him an out. A stupid self sacrificing out. But an out. Shame what will happen to the boy though. So the Judge passes Judgement on Franky and he is taken away to be executed.

Tom and Iceburg lose it but Franky just tells them not to blow it for him. It’s his decision. After all he’s finally take ownership for his creations, even if it means his death he will never deny they were his ships. (Tom would be so proud if he wasn’t losing his son)

Ever since Spandam has had it out for Tom and Iceburg. Tom because the leader of water 7 with Iceburg as his right hand man. Running both the ship yards and then demo (this would version of the Franky family) businesses

When Ace’s crew gets blamed for trying to kill Tom Iceburg goes after them with his loyal employees. If only all of them were loyal.

Long story short it’s Iceburg who joins the crew as a shipwright.

Again I’ll totally expand on this if you ask.

I’m getting to thriller bark soon so you’ll have to wait for Brooks story.

But after the pick up one bone man they run into an old friend of Ace’s.

Whitebeard.

Whitebeard who wants all of them to join his crew.

Ace is tempted so tempted. But then he looks at his friends.

Kuina can’t chase her dream if their crew is not actively striving for the top. Whitebeard is already at the top of the game. The only step up is pirate king and Kuina wouldn’t be on the mainship pushing forward she would be shuffled into whatever commander need her.

Nojiko hates most pirates. She was okay sailing with them because they were a different kind of pirate. But would she be comfortable with whatever crew she ended up with?

Kaya is still learning. Being with the Whitebeard crew might be safer for her as it gave more protection. But she didn’t come out her to be safe she came out to start a new life and have adventures with her new friends

Reiju doesn’t want the crew to split up. She seems to have a hard time with being left alone. Something Ace can understand.

Hiriluk will do what Ace needs them to do (they all will) but he would far prefer staying together. He needs to train Kaya. He needs to keep his new children safe. (He already failed Tony Tony Chopper he won’t fail again)

Olivia just started feeling safe with them. How do they know no one on the Whitebeard crew will betray her?

Iceburg is here for HIS ship to sail around the world and he trusted THIS crew not a bunch on strangers.

(I find the fact that Ace’s crew got spread out among the Whitebeard pirate quite sad. I wish they could have gone with him on his failed mission)

In the end Ace turns him down (he’s got a mom and a dad on his crew) after all how can Ace surpass him and take his place if he’s working for him. Beside how can Ace support any other king of the pirate besides his little brother.

But they do form an alliance. And that’s how they roll for three years. Exploring the grandline, getting stronger, dipping their toes into the new world but not fully committing yet.

Until someone is ready to set sail.

Until someone betrays Whitebeard and almost injures Ace’s crew in the process

Until someone finds out that new pirate is related to the head of the revolutionary army.

Please ask about this I have so many ideas.

I can’t wait to talk about Kuina and this world Tashigi

[tez144]

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (2024)- Review

Planet of the Apes keeps evolving for the better.

Planet of the Apes is my all-time favourite franchise. It’s not hyperbole to say my excitement and expectations were at absolute peak for the 10th Apes film. And it didn’t disappoint.

Director Wes Ball puts out a banger of a film that is character driver, emotional, and has a clear focus on the story that is being told. Compared to the previous 3 films (Rise, Dawn & War) which were world-changing epic events, this is a smaller scale story that also does a fantastic job at world building, and tackling larger concepts of community, society and extreme theological diversity. This is filmmaking at its best; the motion-capture and CGI is outstanding, the score is iconic POTA and every actor, whether ape or human, hit their marks and give it 100%.

The story is centred around young chimpanzee Noa who is a member of the Eagle Clan, a community of Apes who keep and train eagles. The Eagle Clan are remote and have no contact nor much knowledge of the history of the wider world. As Noa goes on his adventure and learns of the world and their history, including the great ape Caesar, the audience does as well. It’s a great way to introduce the characters, allow us to form a connection with them, and learn where the Ape society and where the world has progressed to. It also allows it as an entry point into the story and world for anyone who hasn’t seen the previous films, which can be a difficult task for the 4th instalment of a film series (or 10th overall).

Kingdom picks up “many generations later” after the events in War. That wording itself says a lot about the world we are being introduced to. Time is no longer measured in years, or centuries. The human concept of time has been lost and is measured in a societal construct of generations.

I picked up many easter eggs from the previous films, ranging from replicating scenes, props and sounds. I’m sure I’ll pick up more on a second viewing. If you know the POTA lore and timeline(s), these easter eggs keep the film in the guidelines, whether it be Ape customs or specific moments we see in the future, as its moving towards the time-period set in the original 1968 film. Are these just fun easter eggs, or am I reading too much into them being a POTA nerd? Probably the latter.

I have a couple of nitpicks about how small parts of the story don’t quite connect, but that is very minor. Another point to note is the first teaser trailer made it sound like Noa had visions of the future “when I sleep, I see strange things...not memories. New things. I see everything”. This whole story line has been cut from the movie. I’d be very curious to see that version of the film.

I could talk about this movie for hours, but I’ll hold back. Go and see it.

4.5 / 5 - Apes continue to be strong.

- Stay up to date on all my latest content on my Facebook page, Film & Flask.

[scotianostra]

July 24th 1304 saw the fall of Stirling Castle.

Following on from The Battle of Falkirk, Edward I of England over the next 6 years his army gradually took control of the majority of Scotland.

The Siege of Stirling Castle is quite possibly one of the most famous sieges and it is often referred to as "The Great Siege".

The Castle itself was the center of a lot of dispute and it was besieged and changed hands several times. Known as the Brooch of Scotland it is said that whoever controlled the castle, controlled Scotland itself. The name Stirling may very well have come from folk etymology theories are it originates in either a Scots or Gaelic term meaning the place of battle, struggle or strife, well it has certainly seen it's fair share of that over the centuries!

Some of the siege is well recorded and some of it is speculation. What we do know is that Edwards army originally had twelve siege engines bombarding the Castle in April that year with lead balls (stripped from nearby church roofs), Greek fire,an incendiary weapon used by the Eastern Roman , stone balls, and even some sort of gunpowder mixture. Edward I had sulphur and saltpetre, components of gunpowder, brought to the siege from England.

There were only around 30 soldiers garrisoned inside which is quite a testament to how effective Stirling Castle was at protecting its occupants.

Impatient with the lack of progress, Edward ordered his chief engineer, Master James of St. George, to begin work on a new, more massive engine called Warwolf!

The castle's garrison of 30, led by William Oliphant, eventually were allowed to surrender on 24 July after Edward had previously refused to accept surrender until the Warwolf had been tested.

Despite previous threats, Edward spared all the Scots in the garrison and executed only one Englishman who had previously given over the castle to the Scots. Oliphant was imprisoned in the Tower of London, eventually he returned to Scotland and.......... you guessed it, fought on the English side!

He was involved in another siege at Perth three years later and captured by The Bruce's army, many of the higher ranking Scots and English were executed the rest of the English were set free, Sir William Oliphant was sent in chains to the western Isles where he is thought to have died, well he was never mentioned in the history books again.

Please note that a few different theories exist regarding the end to the Great Siegei, ncluding that the castle was eventually taken when they filled the moat and used scaling ladders to climb the walls. And there is a theory that the wall was breached by a battering ram. There is also another theory that the occupants were simply starved out. All of these theories are plausible and they are methods that were used to siege castles. One or more of these theories may be true and it is quite likely that all these methods were used in part!

Whatever it was it is certain that the siege of Stirling castle is one of the most traditional sieges that ever took place and it is called "The Big Siege" for good reason.

Stirling Castle remained in English hands for just under 10 year, when as part of the conditions laid down before the Battle of Bannockburn the Scots took back control.

[byenycfm]

Devan McCahill || 31 || Apt# 412 || Avan Jogia || Closed

Personality:

Devan is a man of charisma and audacity, the kind of individual who you either immediately take to or absolutely don't. He's devious, quick-witted, and smart — both academically and street-wise, a quite deadly combination, both in the old world and especially this new one. The duality of this man is shown quite clearly in how he has a worn, cracked-spine paperback book of the Aeneid tucked in one back pocket of his jeans and a handgun in the other, perhaps equally well used, especially in this present day. From the moment they were born, they had it hammered into them that their soul was damned for the greater good, and that does something to a young boy’s mind. After all, if you’re already going to hell, what would or should stop you from doing what needs to be done? Devan is a rule breaker, a troublemaker, a firestarter, but with enough moral fibre to not be a bad guy, per se. In every stage of his life, every aspect of his being, “do what needs to be done to make the world a better place, even if you gotta do some really bad shit to get from here to there,” has been an overarching theme. To Devan, judging every detail for good or evil will not change anything for the better, it will just stagnate progress; it’s about the bigger picture, the long term future type shit, that’s where you gotta look. You can’t win a fight weighing every stone in your hand; you find the biggest rock you can and just make sure you toss it at the right target.

Biography:

Devan was born to a young Indian-Irish woman in Swords, Ireland, and never really knew his biological father, who’d already been in prison for battery of his mother by the time he was born. It was her new boyfriend, a rough but kind bloke from Ballymun, who stepped in to take over the father role, and although it had still been a relatively new relationship by the time he was thrust into this world, the man took to it readily. Perhaps that was for the best, because even from a very young age, it was clear that Devan would be at least three-and-a-half hands full to handle.

To call them a precocious child would be the understatement of the century. By the time they were two years old, they were already reading their own books, and their mother and her boyfriend were frequent visitors to the local library just to keep them sated; if there wasn’t a book in the young boy’s hand, they'd find their entertainment elsewhere, usually in ways that ended up with something breaking. This is a trend that carried over well into adulthood – a lot of Devan's life choices can be summarised to, “just trying to stave off boredom.”

Things took a turn for the worst just after he started primary school at 3 years old. Due to his mother's work and his school being incompatible on some days, there was an arrangement made with her boyfriend's parents – who already saw the two as their own family – that he would stay the night with them so she wouldn't have to worry about anything. Her boyfriend brought him home at noon, after school, somewhere in the middle of the school year, and they had found her dead in the apartment she shared with her son, her throat slit. While the police and ambulance would be called immediately, they'd later determine that she was murdered in the middle of the night, and the main suspect was Devan's recently released biological father.

From there on, his life changed significantly. As an adult, they don't really remember their mother or exactly what happened to her, perhaps a cognitive response to protect themself from what they'd witnessed. His mother's boyfriend's parents immediately put an adoption into motion so he would still have family and he wouldn't be lost in the foster system, and so he immediately went to live with them – at first, the only thing that really changed for him was that he didn't get to see his mother anymore, his last name changed, and he had to see a lady for a whole year who wanted to talk to him about how he felt and what he was thinking about.

The next twelve years were spent being trained in parkour, hand-to-hand combat, endurance training, and indoctrinated into a mindset that his soul was to be damned for the sake of others. Alongside their cousins, who received the same training, just like the previous generation had been, they were made to patrol Dublin City, and protect anyone who needed it. Growing up, Devan slowly became aware that their family had a reputation, not only in the city or even the county, but in Leinster as a whole, and the family-owned pub – which would serve as a gathering place for the majority of his family and their family friends – was considered a place that if you were in trouble, someone made you feel unsafe and the Gardaí couldn't or wouldn't do anything with it, you could find help there. If you crossed a certain line and you had been put on that family's radar, justice would be swift and brutal. If you were lucky, you'd end up in a hospital, and if you weren't, you'd see an early grave.

Devan was already very used to the feeling of soft tissue splitting under his knuckles and bones breaking under the weight of his tire iron by the time he was fifteen. And when they were sixteen, they got their tattoo, a Celtic cross with the top right cut out so the circle formed a G, so styled for ‘Gaffney’, their adoptive grandmother's maiden name. Every child who had proven their skill and loyalty to the family would be offered to receive the tattoo at sixteen years old, and few – very few – would reject it and be disowned from the entire family. To Devan, rejection with such a steep price wasn't an option. They'd continue to do what their great uncle and his eldest son told them and their cousins to do, the years of violence and looming post-death doom already numbing their young minds to the brutality of what they did for ‘the sake of the greater good'.

Regardless of his home life and his family's brand of ‘chores’, Devan found his peace in books – any book – and language as a whole. If he had free time, he'd spend it in second-hand bookstores or learning new languages, something he took to like a piranha to bloodied water; rabidly and single-mindedly. The fact that they didn't care what they read rather than that they had something to read gave them access to an incredibly broad range of knowledge; not always very deep, but enough to make them tiresome to debate with. And debate he did, to the frustration of many of his teachers and even his classmates. He got his leaving certificate when he'd just turned fifteen, having skipped his transition year, and after a little bit of debate between his adoptive father and his father's cousin, Devan was allowed to pursue a further academic career so long as it wouldn't get in the way of his duties towards his family.

By the time he was twenty-two, he held an MA in Art History and a BA in Archaeology, but more importantly, a better perspective of his family, since he had enough time and experience away from them for the majority of his academic career after secondary school. Although they were indoctrinated to believe that what they did was a good thing, Devan saw their family for what they actually were: a gang. Not even ‘a gang but with good intentions,’ because the fact was that just about every gang started with good intentions and trying to fill a need their community had. But beyond that, it became even clear that he and his cousins, just like his father and his cousins, were nothing more than a means to an end. They weren't unloved or even unwanted, but at the end of the day, they were trained from a young age to be a blunt weapon to throw onto the streets of County Dublin. This became especially clear to Devan when he expressed a wish to see the world to his father, who wholeheartedly supported him in it, but his father's cousin, his great uncle's appointed commander, did not.

Months of arguing later, the topic was deemed settled by said commander, and Devan's chances of actually doing something they wanted to do with their life – even if it wasn't exactly clear to them what they wanted to do with their life – seemed grim, condemned to the fate of an early grave or otherwise inevitable prison time. It was their father who, one night, came by their apartment, gave them access to the money he'd saved up over the years, a plane ticket to mainland Europe, and his blessing. Devan never looked back, and hasn't returned since, knowing there are consequences waiting for him.

Between his degrees, his training, and his inability to stay put, Devan fell into the world of art and antiquity theft, first on commission from people who had money to spare and didn't trust law enforcement to actually care – art theft was and still is, after all, one of the most tolerated crimes, and lucrative to boot, given the article is genuine. He made his name getting the job done, with his occasional collaboration with the likes of Interpol and the USA's FBI solidifying this reputation. Regardless of his intermittent work with law enforcement, Devan found most of his contacts to be more criminally inclined – after all, the echelons in which he did his work, business was business, and being able to hold his own helped that a lot.

They'd been in New York City for a meeting with one Sada Vang, their cab had almost made it to the Holland Tunnel on Jersey City's side when their driver was told it was blocked off, and would possibly be reopened the morning after; they had no choice but to redirect to a hotel nearby and wait until such a time came. It never did. That evening's news said Manhattan was under quarantine due to some unknown virus and by the morning, not only had the Tunnel not been reopened, shit had hit the fan in a significant way. The first time he actually saw what people would later come to know as 'chompers', it didn't really register in Devan's mind that that was what it was, but, as used to violence as he was, he did note that that particular violence was less human, more animal.

The following months, Devan would frequently find themself in the company of other survivors – initially scared people who would prove to not be cut out for the end of the old world, and they quickly learned that trying to save those who couldn't or wouldn't save themselves would lead them into an early and absolutely unwanted grave. Or worse. It was a few weeks before proper snowfall that he'd find the people he would spend the winter with, who knew what it took to survive, most whom didn't need any babysitting at all. Unfortunately, Demeter's wrath brought with it its own difficulties, lack of supplies, lack of food, lack of a lot of things that they had to send people out for to find, at any cost. And those who returned spoke of an apartment building of survivors, the name of which sounded very familiar to him.

So once the snow had melted, they decided that maybe it was time to go to a meeting, hoping that being months late wouldn't be held against them.

Pre Outbreak Occupation: Private Detective Previous Zombie Experience: His very first was seeing a woman eviscerated by a few. Over these past months he's been forced to kill his fair share of them. Marital Status: Single Children: N/A Residence: Apt. #412 Years residing at The Wexley: Post Outbreak New Arrival Connections:

Sada Vang - Business Associate

[destiny-in-the-universe]

heck yeah bro

The only idea I have right now, is that Howard is stuck as the tengu for at least a century. Randy couldn't get him back for whatever reason.

sometime later, tengu Howard has been left alone for a while. not in the stone, but just like, hiding. Randy or a new ninja finds him. They slowly realize what happened to him, and tries to help him.

I'm thinking it would be interesting if Randy mind wiped before they could fix him. Or like, he broke Ninja conduct trying to save him or something.

Oh, I love this idea!

You don't have to use these ideas, but- hear me out!

Maybe this is an alternate take to season two? My current thoughts - during the final battle with the Sorcerer, Randy and Howard decided to have the Tengu stone on standby, as a last resort. The plan was supposed to have worked, but things went south and somehow Howard didn’t have the ability to transform back.

Exactly what happened to Randy? I have no idea. If a century has passed and you still want him to find Howard, then maybe somehow he became immortal-? Honestly it took me a moment to think why this would happen, but I like to think that prior to being mind-wiped, he was cursed by the Sorceress... and then the rest happened

I had to think about this for a minute, but if you want him mind-wiped - maybe Howard caused too much destruction and thus led to Randy having to let go of his mantle of the Ninja, all because he didn't take Howard down properly. Though now he has a strange bout of amnesia from his high school days, and soon enough discovers that not only is he immortal but at one point: stopped aging

I like to be mean to the cast, what can I say? /lh

Though! To add more in regard of this AU because now I am positively hooked!

Under-the-Cut Information

If Howard and Randy do reunite, they probably will both have PTSD- neither expected to find each other again however, and feel a strong sense of relief when they do. Although, I feel there might be a bit of temporary resentment and wariness from Howard when it comes to being human again. He’s gotten more feral, less human- so being in contact with community again feels very strange

If for some reason, Randy isn’t around - I feel Howard wouldn’t adjust very well. I like to think he doesn’t know if Randy’s alive or dead and he doesn’t want to be aware. He just wants to be left alone

Howard definitely became territorial over the years. With a century having gone by, and the fact he’s been hiding- well, he doesn’t want anyone to find him

Randy is extremely patient with him but he also feels frustrated- once he gets his memories back, he starts getting the thought he should’ve been able to help Howard and the guilt begins to weight on him a lot

Howard is very protective of Randy- on the chance the now former Ninja hasn’t passed on, he won’t let anyone get close to Randy and snarls, snaps at everything because he’s his and no one else’s

(The idea he refuses to accept Randy’s death, in a version where it’s another Ninja over Randy- well, he completely loses it. I don’t have much for something where Randy passed, because that would wreck me right now- but if it did, I can almost see Howard just retreating further and being extremely distrusting of the new Ninja because they’re not Randy)

The Nomicon is, of course, very wary of Howard but eventually caves and begins to closely guard him- seeing that the current Ninja or Randy is making progress, it eventually relents

This AU has so much potential and I can’t wait to hear your own thoughts! This is just what’s currently been cooking in my brain but honestly it took so many tries to finish the ask and it still feels like I could add more