#the author entered the war on religion on the side of war so like. that's cool.

[antilocaprine]

Im chewing on waterbounds new chapter forever…im one of the readers that never read the books with daemons in it but i was chatting about the new chapter with my friends- most people wont survive that, right? Is there a way to survive it? Im sure itll be answered in the next chapter so I could just wait and see but I wanna tell you either way this fic rules so far!

(Waterbound)

I'm delighted that people are enjoying this silly little crossover. And you're chatting about it with friends - it's like a book club! Amazing! I feel like I should give you homework, but the only thing I would suggest is to read the His Dark Materials series, because if the daemon aspect of this story intrigues you, you would probably enjoy the books. I haven't seen the show, but I've heard good things about it. I haven't seen the movie, but I've heard bad things about it.

As for if what just happened is survivable...the short answer is that there's no Major Character Death tag on the fic! I'll put the longer answer under a readmore, because this chapter only came out a couple days ago and people might not want spoilers yet.

So, longer answer: this is not an unfamiliar experience! We've already heard Benrey talk about it when he said he and his daemon were "separated." In the books, there's a major plot point of children being "severed" from their daemons, where a daemon is ripped or cut away from them with terrible machinery and in a single swift action. There are also adults who have had it done, and it makes them...odd. Doll-like, almost, very incurious, very susceptible to suggestion. If their daemon is allowed to remain close, they can survive, but the connection between them - the feelings, the thoughts, the joining of body and soul - is gone forever, and the daemon becomes "a lovely little pet," as one antagonist says at one point (which is awful - that's your SOUL). But if the severed children and daemon are kept apart, they will both eventually die.

Separation is different from severing. Separation is slower, more purposeful. In the books, we meet several characters who have separated from their daemons - as mentioned earlier in Waterbound, there used to be a race of people called witches, who all had bird daemons. In the books, one of the final trial for the girls who became witches was to cross a waste that daemons could not enter on foot, thus tearing themselves away from them consciously, for the ability and the skills that doing so would open up for them. Humans can also separate from their daemons - two of the main characters do in the main series of books, one of the main characters does it in the prequel, and then the main character meets...like...SO MANY more people who are separated from their daemons in the sequel series. All of those separations happened consciously, purposefully, relatively slowly, and almost always with the understanding of what was happening and what they were doing.

That's what happened with Benrey - after his family's boats were attacked and his daemon settled in her final shape due to the trauma, he was hurt from the attack and needed medical attention, but his daemon was too big to go with him, and certainly couldn't go on shore. So he had to leave her in the water and walk up the beach, pulling himself away from her, hating it the whole time, and hating himself for doing that to her and to them and not knowing they'd be okay, just hoping. Witches may be extinct in this fic, but they were real once, so everyone knows the stories. Benrey just had to test the reality of the tall tales, and discovered that, in this case, they were true. After all, his daemon just settled as a mythical creature - so why not? What's one more thing? Why can't separation be real? And so he did it, and it was real, and they were, eventually, okay. But the pain is also real, and the trauma is real, and you don't just forget about that kind of thing. So no, the separation won't kill Gordon - he'll just wish he was dead.

[questionsonislam]

Who are the Harijis, how did they emerge, and what are their basic characteristics?

Harijis emerged after the Siffin War that took place at the time of Hazrath Ali. During the war that was fought between the followers of Hazrath Ali and Hazrath Muaviya, when the followers of Hazrath Muaviya understood that they would be defeated, they put pages from the Quran on their spears and said: Let the Quran be arbitrator between us. upon which the clashes stopped and talks started.

After this arbitrator issue, some people left the side of Hazrath Ali saying, You accepted them as arbitrator; but judgment and authority rest with none but God alone. These are called Hariji.

The statement Judgment and authority rest with none but God alone became a slogan for Harijis. Moreover, when one day Hazrath Ali was addressing the public, one of the Harijis stood up and said O Ali! You rendered people partner to the religion of God. Judgment and authority rest with none but God alone! whereupon from all sides the voices rose: judgment and authority rest with none but God alone. Hazrath Ali answered: This is a right statement; but with this the false is intended.

One day, while Prophet Mohammad (PBUH) was distributing loot, one said: O Mohammad (PBUH), be just! You did not distribute with justice. Prophet Mohammad turned red and said: If I am not just, then who else can be so? and he stated: Beware, a group of this kind will emerge in future. They will leave religion as an arrow leaves its bow.

Therefore, Harijis are the people described in this hadith. They did not even hesitate to call Hazrath Ali, the hero of Islam, unbeliever. Actually, they are fond of worship. With the expression of the Prophet: One among you sees his own prayer inferior to their prayer, and his own fasting inferior to their fasting. But their belief does not go beyond their throats. As Shatibi puts it; they do not understand what they read.

Hazrath Ali sent Ibn-i Abbas to the Harijis as an envoy. When they said: Judgment and authority rest with none but God alone! Ibn-i Abbas answered: Yes, judgment and authority rest with none but God alone. However, God wished for appointing an arbitrator in discords between wife and husband. Likewise, He appointed arbitrator for the one who hunts while he is in ihram (a sacred state that a Muslim must enter in order to perform the major pilgrimage). Therefore, which one comes first in appointing arbitrator: the issues of wife-husband and hunting or the issue that concerns the community?

Harijis are generally the Arabs that live in deserts. They lived poorly before Islam. As they continued living in deserts, their economic situation did not improve when they entered Islam. Their ideas are simple and their understanding is narrow.

For this reason, they are bigoted in religion and their capacity of reasoning is lacking. They quickly get angry and easily conquered by indignation. Just like the desert they are living in, they are harsh in nature and hard-hearted.

Harijis always struggled with Muslims instead of non-Muslims.

Among their most evident characteristics are: intolerance, fanaticism, shutting doors for the ones who are not from themselves, affecting political change by violence and narrow-mindedness.

Harijis accept each sin as blasphemy. They say that performers of big sins will be in the hell forever. They think that belief and unbelief do not have a middle way. They claim that practice is part of the belief. They deduce judgments from the outer meanings of the verses that were revealed about mushriks-people who attribute partners to God-and about unbelievers.

For example, from the verse: Pilgrimage to the House is a duty owed to God by all who can afford a way to it. And whoever refuses (the obligation of the Pilgrimage) or is ungrateful to God (by not fulfilling this command), God is absolutely independent of all creatures. They judge that whoever does not go to the Hajj is unbeliever. However, the judgment is not for the one who does not perform Hajj, but for the one who refuses it.

Likewise, they bring the verse: Whoever (declines to confirm and) does not judge by what God has sent down, those are indeed unbelievers, as evidence to the supposition that sinners are not Muslims. However, while there is no objection to the fact that whoever does not attest to/accept whatever God reveals is unbeliever; the sinners who do not do what God commands although they believe are still Believers. They can never be called unbelievers.

[world-love-government]

*****

The whole idea that the Earth is about to enter its "next evolutionary level" is rooted in Victorian-age eugenics.

All the more reason to redefine it if this is what you believe. In my view you serve to take away power in discourse and politics to any and all identities by entirely negating a concept of entering a "next evolutionary level". Is there something about this thats not the inherent nature of politics and society to begin with? These are ideas and concepts that naturally occur in society with, or without your help; thus it's better to recognize them and claim authority or control over them instead of leaving them to hegemonic power interests such as white supremacy.

The idea that people who accept New Age beliefs are having their DNA "upgraded" is fundamentally eugenicist.

On the flip side this logic serves to attack development of the human race in areas like genetic therapy that could help you in areas like medicine and health. But I suppose under your logic, all "DNA upgrades", have the aims of eugenics. Is curing cancer eugenics?

The idea that starseeds are traveling to Earth to spread spiritual truth is a narrative inspired by the idea of white man's burden and the belief that sending missionaries to convert Indigenous people to Christianity is a good thing. (It's not; it's racist and genocidal.)

You know what I think, as a plain truth, most races and people want to explore the universe and have a spaceship. I think most people would enjoy being in a "star wars universe". Once again, you are the one ascribing these concepts like "the white mans burden" to the concept of "saving/ascending the human race/earth", something thats meant to be a discourse for the entire human race, not the responsibility of any one race. If you don't want it to be that way, don't just complain about it, that does nothing if you really care. Why not, or don't you think it does more to instead interact with it, "own it", so you can change it? Doesn't this do more in the fight against white supremacy? I choose to hedge my bets on that people enjoy the idea of exploring the universe, alien planets, and spaceships, in all diversity of it. You on the other hand must *insist* that any discourse or narrative about such a thing is white supremacy, hate, and not good for society. Arnt you supposed to be fighting against white supremacy and hate?

The idea that those who reject New Age beliefs will be "purged" is fundamentally a belief that genocide is a good thing.

Where are you getting this concept from, there's inherently a purging or genocide that must occur in New Age beliefs? I've investigated a number of New Age groups/movements. None of them indicate a plan/agenda to "purge" or "genocide" populations. This sounds like conspiracy theories I've read about (NWO/FEMA Concentration Camps, etc.) that tend to be espoused by right wing sources, ones that you're coincidentally citing.

New Agers are either ignorant or dishonest when they claim that ancient religions and holy texts support their beliefs. The information they cite is either fabricated, distorted, or taken out of context.

Sure, this is sort of a general thing that can happen for any arguement. This is really more of a technical point instead of proving to me that starseeds is white supremacy.

The ancient astronaut hypothesis is inherently racist, because its purpose is denying that ancient POC could have built anything on their own.

That doesn't make sense the whole idea of ancient astronauts affects the entire human race, it doesn't matter what your race/ethnicity is. Ancient aliens visited everyone. Ancient aliens tends towards these theories that aliens or extraterrestrials gave human beings instructions/guidance on how to develop civilization of society, whether youre white, brown, yellow, or black.

The New Age/starseed narrative is inherently antisemitic and has a large overlap with conspiracy theories QAnon believes in, including adrenochrome harvesting (a modern form of blood libel).

This is also poor logic. This is to say that because the starseed narrative has similarities/overlaps to another meme/concept outside of it opens up an entire window of potential interpretations. In the very same laws of logic, because starseeds resembles star wars, Jedi's and Sith Lords must exist. Just like the attempt to claim starseeds is a new version of "the white man's burden", this is another logic faulty arguement to associate starseeds with QAnon; therefore allowing claims of antisemitism. In observing the claims of QAnon I have never seen mention of starseeds. The entire validity and discourse of QAnon is worthy of its own criticism relative to technology and modern day society. This eagerness to label anything "antisemitic" at the cost of errors in logic must be given significant attention, as this indicates desperation of the enemy or opponent. Not only does it do harm to authentic claims of antisemitism, representing a perspective of covert white supremacy - it also once again inists and reinforces that starseeds *must be* antisemitic, this does nothing to negate antisemitism or subvert the discourse to remove it. Their perspective is to *just insist* its antisemetic and do nothing about it. What does that tell you? It certainly harms the laws of logic in arguementation, that is also something we should call attention to in recognizing and shutting down harmful antisemitic claims against the human race.

Hey folks, friendly reminder that:

The whole idea that the Earth is about to enter its "next evolutionary level" is rooted in Victorian-age eugenics.

The idea that people who accept New Age beliefs are having their DNA "upgraded" is fundamentally eugenicist.

The idea that starseeds are traveling to Earth to spread spiritual truth is a narrative inspired by the idea of white man's burden and the belief that sending missionaries to convert Indigenous people to Christianity is a good thing. (It's not; it's racist and genocidal.)

The idea that those who reject New Age beliefs will be "purged" is fundamentally a belief that genocide is a good thing.

New Agers are either ignorant or dishonest when they claim that ancient religions and holy texts support their beliefs. The information they cite is either fabricated, distorted, or taken out of context.

The ancient astronaut hypothesis is inherently racist, because its purpose is denying that ancient POC could have built anything on their own.

The New Age/starseed narrative is inherently antisemitic and has a large overlap with conspiracy theories QAnon believes in, including adrenochrome harvesting (a modern form of blood libel).

Please see my pinned post for more details.

[cljordan-imperium]

You have entered the domain of the all powerful AUTHOR GODDESS...AKA...Your Eccentric Southern Gothic Creole Auntie who is full of sass and isn't afraid to tell it to you straight. *blows kiss*

CJ

She/Her

48 - Female - Mother of 1 Human Kidlet & 2 Feline Goddesses - Work Full Time - Published Short Stories

I am a female writer on the Gulf Coast of the United States, currently residing in the state of Mississippi near the amazing city of New Orleans. I have lived in both Louisiana and Mississippi and the culture of the bayou areas runs through my blood. I have one adult son, who is the light of my life, and a cat who thinks she is the goddess of it. The stories that are currently being published to Tumbler are the continuation of roleplays and solo writing that I have been writing for over 20 years; and that I decided to continue sharing with everyone. Some characters have intricate and elaborate backstories which I will unfold for you. Some are new and you will learn about as they reveal themselves to me. I hope you all enjoy.

Some call me a free spirit, I call me...me. It took me years to become comfortable in who I am, so I judge no one else. We all have our own journeys. I am here to support everyone else on theirs, so maybe they won't have to take as long to be able to love themselves. I prefer not to talk much about my disabilities because I don't want them to define me, but am also open about them when asked or to help others come to terms with their own.

I love purple and sparkles, and I'll probably die petting something I shouldn't. Being as I live on the Gulf Coast, I might also be eaten by it, and that is fine. Life is a circle and we're all part of it.

Feel free to visit my inbox and ask box. I promise I do not bite unless asked.

GENERAL TRIGGER WARNINGS - I am going to post this here and also on appropriate stories where they happen - Also, not all of my characters are meant to be liked or sympathetic. Feel free to literally hate them and let your opinions change if the characters do, some of them WILL evolve over time.

All of my stories are FICTION and NOT REAL.

There are themes of: fantasy, evil, demons, angels, religion, blood, viscera, evisceration, gore, swearing, slavery, manipulation, ptsd, emotional manipulation, dv, sa, abuse, death, hell, torture, violence, war, fighting, anger, injury, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, guns, police, witchcraft, .

~may be updated later if I think of more that fit~

Please know that I have 14 Active WIPS here (not including the individual stories in The Imperium Chronicles)

MASTER LIST - Updated 7/23

The Imperium Chronicles

NOT STORYLINE

Flash Fiction Friday 3.3.23

3/10/23 - Flash Fiction Friday - Celestial Bodies

April Fool's In Imperium

Meeting Jasper

Moodboards of Characters

Back To The 20's

HISTORICAL

GET TO KNOW MY OC

THE PALACE

CASPERIUS & MARTENIQUE

DARTAN & AMAYA

GRAE & ADALICIA

ASHER & KAYLIN

MARCELLUS & SORINA

DEZ, PHAEDRA, & THINIUS

UFFERN

LEANDRE & YAEL

CASSANDRA & LUCIFER

KARLEN

ADRIEL & ANNABELLA

DELILAH & TALON

PUSTOTA

JASPER & MEREDITH - CRESCENT CITY

FUN STUFF

Character Theme Song

OC Name Meaning/Reason Tag

Writing Questions Tag

Characters as Comfort Foods

Fav Character(s) to Write

Magical Objects in Imperium

WIP Drinking Game

Foretelling/Prophecy in My Writing

Government in My Stories

Types of Side Characters

THE ANDROMEDA EFFECT

@the-andromeda-effect - In Greek Mythology Andromeda was sacrificed by her parents to save their kingdom from Poseidon's wrath after her mother offended him, but Perseus saves her from death by a Krackon and takes her to his kingdom to be his Queen. Mircea (Meer-cha) Kalavati wasn't sacrificing his wife to appease a god, or bring peace to his clan, he was doing it to start a war with another. His mistake when he hired Caliban Andros was lying to him about why he wanted her rescued, then killed to look like those who had kidnapped her had done it. Never lie to your hitman. Now, like Perseus to Andromeda, Caliban has rescued Riona Kalavati and something is drawing him to the woman. He will kill to keep her safe, and her husband is going to regret that lie for what remaining life he has left. Now as Adira Andros, she is definitely Caliban's Queen, and his "army" has rallied around her.

BATTLEGROUND OF DREAMS

@battlegroundofdreams - Morpheus & Melinoe are Dream Assassins, sent into the minds of sleeping human dreamers to take out Nightmares who can kill the dreamers. They have been trained and are the best at what they do. Put together as unwilling partners, they must learn to work together to keep one another alive. As they try to navigate a tentative partnership, they also take on the responsibility of becoming mentors to Lorien and Rua, a pair of recently graduated Dream Assassins who were almost killed by one of the most powerful Nightmares that any of them have ever faced. If the pairs cannot learn to work together, it could lead to disaster for them all. They will all learn more about themselves, and each other. Once lone wolves, they will become a pack, and one that Nightmares will come to fear. However, a Dream Assassin turned Nightmare from Morpheus' past will come and threaten them all, and test his will and loyalty. His decisions will either save Melinoe's life, or damn all four of them.

BAYOU WITCHES

@bayouwitches (Heaven & Arthur Shelby belong to @call-sign-shark)

BEHIND THESE MASKS

@behindthesemasks - Melania LaVeau is a professor at LSU in Baton Rouge. She is also the grandaughter of Ambrose Meyers, one of the most powerful men in the country and the daughter of Marie LaVeau...yes THAT Marie LaVeau! Old money, going back to when the Gautier family came over from France to settle in New Orelans, there isn't much that goes on in Louisiana or Mississippi that they don't have their hands in. Meyers Worldwide, a tech conglomerate is a cover for underworld activities that will eventually come to light. What happens when someone decides to cross the most powerful, and immortal, Queen of Voodo and threaten one of her children? Will New Orleans be left standing? If you are a fan of Indiana Jones, Tomb Raider, or The LIbrarians, the story is in the same veign. All of the characters are human, but there are supernatural occurrences around them

BENDING THE LAW

@bendingthelaws - Colin Masterson is the Cook Count State's Attorney. He has been on a mission to take down the head of a Chicago crime conglomerate that is headed by Constantin Rakeovich. Now someone has kidnapped his intern and is sending her back to him in tiny pieces. Is it Constantin? Is it another one of the people that Colin has crossed? Now he and those he trusts are going to have to figure it out before someone else disappears or is hurt. Complicating matters is that his brother, Colton Masterson is Constantin's defense attorney. The brothers have never been close, but in this situation, things take a much darker turn. Will Colton stand by his brother or his client? And what happens when something bigger happens and puts everyone Colin cares about in the crosshairs? If you are a fan of Law & Order, or any of those types of shows, this is much in the same vein and will involve more than just the lawyers. All characters are human. There is no supernatural beings or magic. Some places are going to be fictional, but the main setting is the city of Chicago.

DEVIL IN THE DETAILS

@devil-in-the-details-ay - When Lucifer's daughter Yara gets bored and wants to intern for the Lord of Death, Astaroth, her father agrees. After their first meeting, the Devil changes the plans once more. Deciding to make Yara someone else's problem, she is now to be Astaroth's wife. Navigating this challenge, and those who will come against them both will reveal a lot about each other, and themselves. Is the Princess really as spoiled and entitled as she seems? Is Astaroth really the iceberg incarnate that he seems? Is she even who she believes herself to be? And what happens when someone decides to try to interfere in their relationship?

MAGICAL MISTAKES

INOPINATUS

@inopinatus-ea

Princess Adelia has been contracted to marry Prince Emery, but a revelation at her arrival at King Branoc’s Palace has the possibility of throwing this arrangement in jeopardy. Things in the Palace of Annisgwyl are not as they seem. Betrayal and deception are around every corner. Knight Drach, Princess Adelia's sworn protector must ensure that no harm befalls her, but it seems he may have some secrets of his own. Some Kings will fall, one will rise, but who & will he be alone?

@magical-mistakes-vm - Vollrath, the Master Warlock of the local Coven, encounters Mahala (Mah-HAY-lah) preparing to do a ritual on his land. Her mistakes in not being careful in preparations allowed him to find her, but it also set up events in the future that they will need the help of his best friends Baldur and Elmar to deal with. A witch that has no clue what she is and a Master Warlock who is not used to letting people close have to navigate revelations that will change both their lives, and possibly even the Coven. When his brother, Balor, an equally powerful warlock within the Coven who he has been at odds with for years, also shows up and it is clear will be needed, it just adds one more complexity to the situation. Can they all get along to keep each other safe, or will one of them fall to those who are coming against them?

MYSTS OF TIME

@mystsoftime - As Rome burned, Pluto plucked the first soul that would become one of his Lemures to survive more than a century. In fact, that Lemure is still alive today. Enzo is considered the head of the Lemures worldwide, although he isn't really. He's just the oldest one still alive, so those younger look to him for guidance. His best friend is Dante, who was plucked under Justinian, and close to that is Trevarius who died under Hannibal. Dante and Trevarius have been a team for several centuries, mostly operating in the Midwest since the 1800's.

With Dante in Prague, Enzo received what he thought was a summons from Pluto to come to St. Louis and help the Lemure team there with a case. What he walks into is going to turn the world of not only the three men, but the female Lemure there upside down. Renata died in 1897 when a carriage accident plunged her into the Mississippi River in St. Louis. She's served with Dante and Trevarius ever since. The only problem? She's the doppelganger of Enzo's dead wife. Oh, and she and Dante are in love.

One more little hitch...the summons wasn't from Pluto...and she might NOT be a Lemure....

NIGHTMARE MAGIC

(MAGICAL MISTAKES X BATTLEGROUND OF DREAMS)

@nightmare-magic - Set in the future of both Magical Mistakes and Battleground of Dreams in an AU - so some spoilers and some not as nothing is set in stone for either timeline

Vollrath has never met a problem he can't magic his way out of, that is until now. With nightmares torturing his wife, Mahala, he's at a loss on what to do. Neither of his best friends, his brother, or any of their wives, are able to do anything to help either. Each night the dreams are getting worse, and even more dire, they are starting to have physical effects.

Morpheus and Melinoe are a Dream Assassin team to be reckoned with and have taken over the whole organization. After the sins of the past were revealed, Krios and Andromeda were ousted and now they run the show. A formidable team in the dream world and also in life, they have cemented their relationship in all ways.

Vollrath and Morpheus have a history. Magic and dreams shouldn't cross. There are rules, but neither Vollrath nor Morpheus obey them well. They've both stepped on each other's toes, but now to save Mahala they are going to have to work together and the only one that may be able to negotiate peace is Melinoe, if she can stand Vollrath long enough to do it...

PRINCESS OF THIEVES

@princess-of-thieves-id - Princess Inara is set to marry Prince Diyan the next day, a man she has never met or even set eyes on. Ever defiant, that is the last thing she is going to do. Deciding to thwart her father's plans, the Princess slips out of the castle and sets to escape. Little does she know that the Prince's family sent Arik, the Prince's best friend and a trained assassin, to watch over her, fearing more that she would be murdered by enemies rather than escape. One thing that Arik knows is that Diyan doesn't want to marry Inara either, so instead of stopping her, he helps her with a promise to keep her safe if she stays with him. They make it to the next town, which is a port and aboard a vessel that is just preparing to depart in an effort to stay one step ahead of the soldiers now searching for Inara. Unbeknownst them, they have just become stow-aways on a pirate ship. Complicating things further is that Arik and the Captain of the ship are not strangers, and when a romance develops between Inara and Arik and the Captain deciding he would like her for his own, things become even more complicated. Not to mention all three of them are being hunted by multiple kingdoms. Nothing like a quiet day on the sea, right?

SEHNSUCHT RISING

@sehnsuchtrising

Tapperhet

@tapperhet-em - When Princess Meeri's father is deposed by his brother, he believes she was part of the coup, and disowns her as his family flees the country. Lucky for her, she is found by one of the knights she befriended in childhood and is still loyal to her, Einar, before her uncle did. A members of nobility, he and three of his friends spirit her off into hiding where they can plan to figure out who set her up, help her rebuild a life apart from royalty, and decide how to bring about justice. Can the seeming unrequited love of Einar for Meeri turn into more? Or will one of his brothers in arms, cut him off from that possibility? And how close was/is the traitor to Meeri? Sometimes safe isn't as safe as you think...and destiny, it's more than just a lofty ideal. She is a bitch sometimes, and she will find you.

WHILE YOU WAIT

@whileyouwait-dm - Sorting algorithms are a part of daily life. But, what happens when one goes wrong? For the most part, it's no big deal. However, when the one sorting souls in the afterlife goes wrong, it is a VERY BIG DEAL!

Somehow Miriana has ended up in Hell. Djall's Hell to be exact, and no one is quite sure where she's actually supposed to be! Since all of the major gods have fucked off on some "team building" thing, she's going to be there a while. So, Djall being the benevolent ruler of Hell, puts her up in his home and gives her a job..

Support, Trigger Warning, and Separation Banners on this and all side/reblogs are work of @cafekitsune. I try to credit them as I go, but crediting here as well in case I forget.

Author Goddess Banner - @cillmequick <3

[kybervisions]

a call from the void, you hear it too? [anakin]

summary: she was the first force-sensitive member of the disciples of the whills in thousands of years: a gift from the force. at the start of the clone wars, the force revealed a bond between the so-called chosen one and the disciple. it is through this bond that the force intends to restore balance.

author’s note: posted on ao3, this can be a one shot but im continuing the story over there, im also working on a ben solo fic should be up soonish

tags: minor padmé amidala/anakin skywalker, force dyad basically soulmate au, pov third person omni, fictional religion & theology

"I felt something last night," Y/N told Angber, whispering it, almost like a confession. She looked at him with furrowed brows and confusion and fear, "something terrible and cold," 

It struck her during meditation at nightfall. She had been in the temple seeking to soothe her mind. The young woman entered a state of relaxation and peace, floating several feet into the air, imagining herself amongst the stars...when suddenly she felt like she had been shot. There was a sharp pain in her head. Her skull pounded and her heart accelerated. She fell and a coldness spread from her spine. Before she hit the ground, Y/N thought she had died. It took minutes to even out her breathing, and she struggled to sleep.

"A disturbance in the Force," Angber said. Just nineteen years old and already so strong in the Force. It would not be long before Y/N was ready for the Sacred Journey, a rite of passage for Force-sensitives amongst their order (one that had not been performed in over a thousand years). Across the galaxy, she had felt the first deaths of war, "One hundred and seventy Jedi were killed on Geonosis, it is the beginning of another war and more Jedi will fall for the Republic before its end — you will have to understand why," Angber intended to ensure Y/N would be worthy of making an entry into the Journal.

She had accepted death long ago, found peace with it. Angber helped her truly come to terms with it years ago when she was an angry and confused little girl that realized the cruelty of this reality and felt too much pain. In the Force, there is no end. There are only beginnings.

At sunset, she returned to the temple to mourn the Jedi.

The Jedi were peacekeepers, devoted to the light side of the Force. Y/N learned the codes of the Sith and Jedi. She believed everyone had the intrinsic ability to know right from wrong, that the material world was inherently evil, and that there was a purpose to suffering. For those beliefs and many more, she was viewed as a heretic by the Jedi Order. Despite that, they were all connected through the Force, and she felt the absence of those hundred and seventy Jedi.

The Disciples of the Whills worshipped the Force and sought a balance. They were keepers of stories, poems, prayers, and songs thought lost to the Dark Age. As the first Force-sensitive Disciple seen in generations, it would be her sole duty to make an entry into the Journal and elucidate this war; the Whills were an ancient order of beings deeply connected with the Force. They wrote the Journal, which chronicled the history of the Old Republic. They told of long-forgotten names and broken treaties, of the greed and complacency that led to times of darkness and chaos. The Whills sought to explain war and caution future generations. They warned of an imbalance in the Force and spoke beautifully about both sides of the Force. The first words were written by an unidentified Whill:

"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away,"  

She was mediating at the end of the pool when she first sensed him. She opened her eyes and saw him standing on the other side of the courtyard. He walked toward the middle of the courtyard as if he belonged, but his attired told Y/N otherwise. She cocked her head in curiosity as the young man in dark robes walked straight into the reflecting pool. She expected him to start shouting and splashing, but instead of falling, he walked above the water. He was halfway through the pool when he raised his head and their eyes met. She thought he was a ghost.

And when Anakin saw a strange figure in red floating at the end of the hall, he thought he was dreaming. He meant to find Obi-Wan, but Anakin had little sleep since Geonosis. His mind was tired, but he could not sleep. He thought perhaps he found rest in the temple on Coruscant, and the figure in red robes and hood was part of another strange and disturbing dream. He had many of them, more since returning from Tatooine. The others had been nightmares. They all felt real and terrifying and cold.

"Hello,"

"....Hello,"

The strange figure in red touched the ground, but there was still some distance between them.

He was in the middle of the reflecting pool. The dusky sunlight reflected on the white tiled ground and made the water look like a mixture of pinks and purples.

She was at the end of the corridor, standing between the two carved arches. Anakin looked at them, tried to focus his eyes on them but his vision failed him. His eyes were unable to focus on anything, and everything surrounding the red figure turned odd and blurry as if his eyes were trying to trick him. It didn't feel real. It felt like a dream. A calming dream with a strange visitor.

"What are you?"

"I am a Disciple," She looked at his side and saw the hilt of a lightsaber. She had never seen a real one before. Her order was a pacifist one and valued knowledge above all. Lightsabers were weapons of the Jedi. Seeking knowledge of the Jedi, Y/N saw lightsabers in old holopads. "You are a Jedi,"

"A disciple of who?" The faint smile on his lips faded as he neared the red figure. Anakin sensed the Force. It swirled around them like a hurricane. Powerful and wild. Though her face was obscured with a piece of red opaque fabric, Anakin could make out their eyes. Beautiful, alluring, and dark.  

"I am a Disciple of the Whills, the Jedi would not teach our story," She said, nearly removing her covering. She sensed the Force was strong in the boy. The Force had brought them together, she was certain, so she kept her covering. Force-sensitive Disciples would cover their faces when reaching into the Force and manipulating It, "I sensed the slaughter on Geonosis," She told him.

"Are you a Separatist? A Sith?"

"No, I am a Disciple of the Whills," She looked at him, studied the color of his eyes, and saw a mantle of destiny cloaking the young boy. He was strong in the Force, yes. "Our destinies are intertwined," She said it so plainly, so surely.

Anakin nearly believed her. She was something warm and familiar, "Why?"

The question made her smile. Why? "Because the Force wills it,"

"Great, an ancient dream shaman that only speaks in riddles," Anakin shook his head and sighed, "I know a master you would get along with,"

"Ancient?" She repeated, taking offense. "I-I...I am not ancient, and I don't think this is a dream, tailhead," She reached for his Padawan braid, and Anakin pushed her arm away.

He touched her, briefly, but it was enough to confirm she was real, something solid and tangible.

"Okay, I'm less convinced this is a dream,"

"I think it is because of the war," She theorized, "the Force seeks balance, and this war will bring great suffering, so It connected us,"

"To end the war? To save the Republic? Why? How?"

"I don't know, not yet," She sighed, "I fear this war will be long, but the Force will find balance...somehow," She had not yet gone on her pilgrimage and still had much to learn, "I'm meant to leave the Cold Moon, voyage across the galaxy, and gain a deeper understanding of the Force before returning to the Kyber temple, maybe then answers will be revealed," Since she was a child, Y/N understood she would one day leave Jedha. The idea terrified her, but when the Force revealed their bond, her fears faded.

She didn't need to know why the Force brought them together, but it was clear he did.

"Kyber temple? Is that where you are?" Anakin had never heard of it.

"Yes," she had no reason to lie, "On Jedha,"

"And how will you gain a deeper understanding?"

"Well," Nearing her eighteenth birthday, Y/N showed she was ready to begin plotting the destinations of her pilgrimage. She was to decipher the path she was to take, scouring the writings of the Whills and seeking regions where the Force was strong. "There are these...these vergences hidden away, where, at their center, the Force is fierce and free and pure,"

"Where are these places?"

"I cannot say, this silence is part of my order," She tried to explain. She wanted him to understand, "the Jedi construct lightsabers and become 'Masters' in the Force, we take a pilgrimage and listen to the will of the Force," She was to find four of the points and prepare diligently. She learned histories and understood the cultures of several regions throughout the galaxy. As a Disciple, she could not wield a weapon and would have to rely on the Force.

"Something sad lingers in your heart," She said, almost instinctively reaching out for him once more. He felt warm and familiar, "what happened?"

"Didn't you hear?" He moved his face away from her hand, "there's a war going on,"

"No," There is more.

"My mom died, I couldn't save her,"

"I'm sorry," She meant it, "losing someone you love...it can leave you angry," she had been angry when her brother died. In her anger, she tainted a cave far beyond the holy city, and the memory physically sickened her. She could not speak of it without crying, not yet.

"Jedi can't feel anger, they have to be above that," He had to be above such emotions, but he failed.

"I'm sure the Jedi doctrine doesn't call for the total suppression of emotions,"

"There is no emotion, there is peace," Anakin regurgitated the Jedi Code. He had long memorized the words, but he struggled with living by them.  

And Y/N sensed it, "Perhaps they mean finding peace with your emotions, not letting them control you,"

"It's hard,"

"Yes," She knew that too well, "and we will stumble, but life is about trying to be better,"

Anakin was dumbstruck by her words and there was a few seconds of silence as he stared at the Disciple. Seeing Y/N for the first time made him realize he had been incomplete. He looked at her and suddenly didn't feel alone. She was kind and understanding, yet a shadow lingered around her. It was clear to him that she was not Sith. She was something warm and familiar.

"My mother died a few hours after I was born," but that was not a painful memory, because "But in the Force, there is no end. There are only beginnings," She experienced death at an early age, and Angber helped her understand death as their order understood it. "I hope you can rest one day, knowing your mother's spirit is now free,"

"Thank you," Anakin didn't fully understand their bond at the time. She was a complete stranger, but it felt as if they've known each other since the beginning of time. He didn't know why the Force had connected them. He didn't know what the Force expected of them. How can they end the war? "I...I have to tell my master about this,"

"I would prefer if you didn't," She asked him to lie.

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid of what the council will do," She replied. "They tried to take me away when I was a baby, if they learned of a dyad...what if they try to stop me from completing the pilgrimage?" She knew so much about the Force — studied Its histories from across the galaxy and learned how to manipulate It, all in preparation for the Sacred Journey. She also knew of the Jedi's close relationship with the Republic and how the Republic used the Jedi. Y/N feared they would corrupt the dyad and use it as a weapon.

"What's a dyad?" Anakin asked.

"It's a rare and powerful type of Force-bond," It was unlike a bond created between a master and apprentice. The Whills believed it was an innate connection between two Force-sensitive beings, a bond forged by the Force Itself. "Some think the Force created a single spirit and doomed them to live in separate bodies, others think it's a warning,"

"A warning? A warning for what? This war?" What does It want from us?

"I don't know," That was not the answer he was looking for. "I've only read of a dyad in the Force happening once before, thousands of years ago...between two fallen Jedi," She faintly remembered the details of the dyad. There was a war against the Mandalorians and another war following that one. The Force had been in great imbalance and so followed a Dark Age. "I can't remember why they fell, I'm sorry,"  

Y/N knew her request to keep their bond a secret would cause him turmoil. He was already full of conflict and questions, and she couldn't answer them all.

"Tell your master if you need," She then told him. "I trust you," Utterly. The Force had bonded them, and her faith was unyielding. She knew little of the padawan before her and saw the darkness in him, but she knew he would do the right thing. If that was to inform the Jedi of the dyad, then so be it.

And he knew she meant it. Fully. Completely. Just a few seconds ago she had been terrified at the idea of being unable to complete her pilgrimage. He had felt her fear rushing through his body, but that quickly faded.

I trust you.

Anakin then thought of Padmé and the hesitation she felt when accepting his proposal. It lingered in his head and ate at his soul, those seconds of silence...why had she hesitated? It annoyed him, made him resentful toward Padmé, which he later hated himself for feeling. Another reason why sleep continued to evade him.

Anakin looked to the Disciple. He was confused with their connection and wanted answers — answers he knew the council would not have or give. Fallen Jedi. Could he trust the stranger in red as fully as she trusted him? He knew their bond would terrify the council, yet he never feared it. He only feared it would be taken away. She was something warm and familiar.

The bond the Force had forged between him and the Disciple is one the Jedi's code would condemn. He knew it, felt it. An odd light surrounded her, the council would describe it as tainted, but Anakin saw its power, its beauty. Anakin could see a great void in her soul. Did she see the same? Yes, I can trust her.

Before he could swear to her that he would not tell his master of their bond, she disappeared.

"Hello?" Anakin called out.

"Hello there," Obi-wan replied as he turned into the corridor. "What are you doing up here so late?"

"I was looking for you,"

"Well, you've found me," His master smiled, "How can I help?"

"Oh, I just need to find information about a planet — a moon," Anakin replied, "Jedha,"

The council assigned Obi-Wan and Anakin a mission on Cato Neimoidia. They were to leave at the end of the week. Padmé and Anakin planned to marry on Naboo before then. He would take a short visit to Naboo and meet Padmé on Varykino, but he was not entirely ready for it. When the time came for Anakin to leave and marry the woman he had obsessed over for ten years, he stayed in the temple on Coruscant. He had too many questions, too many doubts.

In the Archives, he found very little about the Disciple of the Whills and nothing about dyads or vergences.

Anakin locked himself away and desperately tried to see the stranger in red again. So he mediated. He mediated and mediated, but nothing. He retreated to find the stranger in his head and began to fear that she had been a dream. What a cruel joke that would have been, to finally feel understood by someone only to learn his mind conjured them.  

And before Anakin left for Cato Neimoidia, Master Yoda visited him.

"Been interested in Jedha, you have,"

"It's an interesting place," Anakin would not speak of his bond with the stranger in red.

"Is it, hmm?  Yes, hmmm,"

"There are Force worshippers there and an ancient temple I thought was interesting," It was not a complete lie. He simply withheld the entire truth.

"Made from kyber, yes some say it was,"

"Have you ever been to Jedha, Master Yoda?"

"Once, long time ago," Yoda admitted, "sent to retrieve a child, I was," Just three years old and already calling out through the Force. They would have been his last apprentice. Part of him mourns the great Jedi that child could have become had he taken them from the Cold Moon, a place full of misery and suffering.

"Did you bring them back?" Anakin knew the answer.

"No,"

"Why?"

"Mother's dying wish," Yoda told Anakin, "They begged," Yoda remembered, "to keep the child," Angber told Yoda, and the members of the dying order begged too. They begged and prayed and wept. The elders explained it to him, as best as they could.

The child was a gift from the Force. Their order, once rivaling the influence of Jedi, did not seek out Force sensitives. Their ideology regarding balance prevented them from doing so. They believed it was the will of the Force that brought Force-wielders to their order. For over a thousand years they have waited, and then the child was born of no father...

It was clear to Yoda then that the child was to remain on Jedha. Many in the council thought that to raise a Force-sensitive with the philosophy of the Disciples was unsafe and impious, and for that reason, Yoda did not tell them of the child's parentage. He tried not to think about them, but that became difficult when Qui-gon returned with Anakin, another child born of no father...

When Anakin went to sleep, he thought of her and knew he would see her again.

[eyes-talks-ocs]

Whumptober '22

Day 1. A Little Out Of The Ordinary

-unconventional restraints 

Character/Setting: Lucan, my DnD PC and his backstory. (My DM knows it's dark. The ball of sunshine I play, is very much traumatized and the party doesn't even know it, ha.)

TW?: physical abuse, religion/cult, implied starvation, manipulation. 

Whump wise, this one is actually pretty tame. Nothing actually too graphic.

—

These are just drabble so it's rough writing. Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes!)

—

The Aarakocra sat with his small console in the office room of their chapel. Mulling over ideas and details for upcoming days' work and what is expected from the high members of this community. The harpy eagle made a point, that some of the terms of their service need to be changed. 

The young Genasi standing by Nezrot's side as he spoke to the small group. Quiet and listening. He still felt strange, now being mentored by a different leader than the one he had spent the last 16 years of his life with. But the high members regarded and respected the eagle, just as much as they did the former leader. Maybe even more so. They stood at attention like soldiers when he spoke in his lofty voice. Lucan still being intimidated by it. 

"It's time we start asking for returns or payment for our service to the public." He clasped his hands together, tenderly stroking his talons. "It's gone far too long. Being thankless by the ordinary people. We're taken for fools. Walked on as they reap what we sow for them." 

Lucan furrowed his brow in response to this suggestion. "But, that's the point?" He spoke up into the meeting. "We do what we do out of compassion for the common man. Regardless of anything." He said in a meek voice. 

Instantly, Nezrot shot him a glare. Not expecting his acolyte to step into this conversation. "Hush boy. Us older, more knowledgeable men are talking." 

"No, that's not what we're about. Without that compassion, I wouldn't even be here today. Hessen didn't teach us to expect or demand a reward -"

Lucan's rebuttal was cut short by the crack of the eagle's hand across his cheek. Talons catching skin with the sharp smack. The teen stumbled back, almost shocked he did that in front of the group. He caressed his face, taking in the heat from his own hand to soothe the sting. He caught a faint chuckle from the newest member to the high members, a Kenku not much older than himself. Standing opposite to them, smirking at the sight that just unfolded. 

"Who are you boy, to question what the gods have spoken to me? Do you have the authority to address Tyr yourself, and tell him, the god of justice and war, that his advice to share with us is false?" Nezrot corrected Lucan's outspoken actions. "Hush. Be silent. Only those who know what the gods speak should be discussing their opinions and concerns right now. Hessen was liberal in his line of work. Letting people in our community fall out of line, especially you." 

"Sorry." Lucan breathed a small apology and stood there, withdrawn into himself. He stood there, at Nezrot's side, obedient like he was supposed to. Not saying a word further with a low gaze. The others in the room, if they didn't snicker at the correction, they moved on like it didn't even happen. 

"We're done for now, mass will start normal time tonight. Go off and prepare. We'll see each other soon. Blessed be." Nezrot turned to Lucan. "You're to accompany me to the back. Get things ready for tonight." 

"Yes sir." His voice lacked, as he still held his hand against his face. 

The Genasi followed Nezrot to the small room that led behind their meeting hall. It held the items for usual mass, prayer, and ceremonies. It was a large walk-in closet. Housed in it, fancy brass and silver chalices, bowls, and visages. Alter adornments. Wine, candles, and gowns.  

Nezrot held the door for Lucan and let him enter first. Like the normal start before every service, he went to the hooks on the wall and started to adorn himself in his white robes, showing his status as acolyte in the community. An honor to wear such lush clothing. To feel the divine in the silk that touched and hugged skin and body. Comfort in the clothing that he held so dear. 

As he was dressing, Nezrot grabbed the boy by the arm and ripped the length of fabric from his grasp. The large eagle bound Lucan's hands together with the belt from his very own gown. Not certain what was happening, Lucan froze as Nezrot cinched the white fabric tight. To the point of pain as it wrapped steadfast and taught. 

"Sit and pray. You won't be joining us tonight. You'll stay here in silence and beg for forgiveness over your worldly thoughts against the will of the gods. By fenrir's chains, I wish I could bind you tighter. To feel the pain Tyr did in losing his hand to that beast. You should know better. That not even knowledge and advice comes free. Odin gave his eye to seek out knowledge and new truths. Pray child. For you have offended your gods." The eagle forced Lucan into the corner of the room. Then with a heavy forceful hand, shoved him downward to sit on the floor. "I'll retrieve you later when I think you've had enough time alone in silence to repent." Nezrot set the lantern on the floor in front of Lucan, then shut the door behind him as he left the windowless room. Causing everything to be cast into dark. 

The darkness didn't bother Lucan. He could see perfectly fine in it. Though the flame on the lantern offered him a little comfort in the situation he found himself in. But Nezrot was right. Who was he to question someone who communes with the gods? To him though, it just seemed to go against what their community was based upon in the beginning.

He watched the flame flicker and used it to calm himself. Seeking the gentle relief from being near his element. The fire gave him peace whenever he was near enough to watch it burn and feel it's warmth.  

And so he did as he was told, hung his head and spoke. Asking for forgiveness of his opinions on the matter. Apologies for speaking without thought about what his gods truly wanted. Ignoring the pain in his wrists as his hands began to lose their feeling. Watching the lantern in front of him burn, dazed and entranced by it. 

He didn't know how much time had passed, lost mostly in thought. But the door cracked and let light back into the room. Blurry eyed, he looked up expecting Nezrot to be staring down on him with disappoint. Instead, a girl stood there dumbfounded. 

"Lucan?" She breathed.

"Petra?" He said back, just as shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" She knelt down in front of him, observing everything. "You're face, what happened?" She pointed out the bruise forming under his eye and crusted gash. 

He gave a nervous smile, "I got back handed for not holding my tongue. I deserved it. It's fine. Once I get done here, I'll heal myself before bed." 

She watched him smile, his soft eyes staring into her's, almost like he was unbothered by any of what was going on right now. 

"Again, what are you doing here?" He questioned curiously. Cocking his head and giving his usual puppy dog stare. 

"Well, you weren't going to be present tonight for service so I volunteered to help set up. I was looking for the altar cloth. Instead I found you? I was told you weren't feeling well and chose to study scriptures alone tonight." She sighed looking at the sorry position he was in.

"Oh, it's not here, it's folded under the table in the prayer hall. Everything for tonight has mostly been moved out there already. It just needs to be set up." He smiled again, seeing the blond hair girl dart her eyes around the room then back to him. "But yeah, I guess you could say that. I said some stupid things at our meeting tonight and well, this is my punishment. To sit alone and pray."

"This all looks a little harsh?" 

"I should know better, and I need to be better if I'm going to try and hold my position in the high members. I was chosen, and willingly accepted this path awhile ago. Nezrot is just a little more strict with things than my father was. But truth be told, I probably need that guidance and heavier hand. I mean, he was right. Dad probably did favor me and let me slide in my devotions." He said, eyes being drawn back to the flame. 

She gave him another sorry look. Studying the red skinned boy in front of her. Hands bound, in what looked like extremely uncomfortable restraint. Sloppily dressed in his robe, which hung open, exposing much of the bare skin of his chest. Stray blood from his cheek, staining the vibrant white of his robes with rust. 

"How are you doing with that by the way? You're father?" She asked then pulled his robe closed for him and tied the strings of the hood to keep it closed.

Lucan went still and his happy demeanor changed almost instantly. "I'm - doing okay. He was an old man already when he took me in as a young kid. I knew he wasn't going to be in my life long. He was only human after all. Can't live for basically forever like some others can. But Nezrot said he'd take over my guardianship and continue to raise me like his own son. Since well, I'm effectively orphaned - again." He spoke quieter now. 

"And raise I shall." The deep voice broke the conversation between the two, startling them. 

Both caught like deer in headlights, they said nothing in return to the eagle standing over them. 

"Lass, you ought to get going to service before it starts and leave this boy to sit alone in prayer. He needs to right the wrongs he's done." Nezrot knelt down before Lucan as Petra moved out of the way for him. He grabbed Lucan by the chin with his talons and forced the teen to look into his eyes. "Hessen was a good man, and it's a shame he's gone. I know you're deeply hurting from it. But find comfort and guidance in those still around you. It's true, your dad let a lot slide with you when it came to your holy duties. But I promise you, I'll lead you straight and make up for the habits he let you take up. I've been lax with you the past little bit to let you grieve, knowing your head wouldn't be all here. But I think it's time I start putting you back in line." Nezrot let Lucan's face go and stood. 

He turned his attention to Petra once more. "Please give him and I a little bit of privacy for some moments. Now run along."

"Yes sir." She bowed and left them. 

"Even sheep know the hour of their going home and to turn from the grass. But a foolish man knows not the measure of his maw." The eagle said with a bit of disgust to his voice. "You should know the proverb along with the others from our texts like the back of your hand. But yet you act and think with greed. You'll stay here tonight, without joining us for supper. We'll see if you've learned a lesson here by morning. I might bring you something to eat by then. Good night Lucan." He closed the door, leaving. Yet again, casting the boy into the darkness - alone. 

[twh-news]

How Loki Shapeshifted From Nordic Folklore to a Marvel Icon

by Sara Durn

There are more than 800 years between the stories of Viking god Loki first being written down and his arrival (in the superb Tom Hiddleston) in the Marvel cinematic universe in 2011’s Thor. The new Disney+ series Loki, set to be released on June 9, is primed to explore more antics of Thor’s trickster brother as he attempts to fix the timeline he helped break in Avengers: Endgame. Among his many talents, Loki has cheated death a few times in the MCU, but that amounts to child’s play for this god.

In Norse mythology, Loki causes just as much confusion as his Marvel iteration. Though there aren’t any stories of him outwitting death, there are plenty of myths where he shapeshifts, swaps genders, or tricks gods into killing other gods. In the Marvel universe, he’s quite prone to allegiance swapping. Let’s dig into this troublemaker’s journey.

What is Loki’s origin?

The legends surrounding the Norse god are first documented in writing around the 13th century, primarily in Iceland. There are two versions of these legends that enter the historical record around the same time—the Poetic Edda and the Prose Edda. The Poetic Edda is an anonymous collection of Old Norse poems that are mainly pulled from an Icelandic medieval manuscript known as the Codex Regius (some of the poems date back to 800 CE). The Prose Edda is an Old Norse textbook for composing poetry that was written by a single author, Snorri Sturluson, a colorful Icelandic historian, scholar, and lawspeaker.

“Within the myths, you can see Loki moving from being just mischievous to being absolutely evil. If you think of him as only being mischievous, he’s actually a creative force and often ends up getting the gods much of their magical possessions, like Thor’s Hammer, through his cunning.”

“Pretty much everything we know about Loki came from Snorri Sturluson,” Viking scholar Nancy Marie Brown, author of Song of the Vikings: Snorri and the Making of Norse Myths, told io9. Brown says this was very appropriate given that “Snorri was quite a trickster figure himself.” While calling him the “Homer of the North,” Brown also acknowledges that Snorri spent a lifetime “double-crossing friends and family… scheming and plotting, blustering and fleeing”— a life that eventually led to his unheroic demise in a nightshirt where his (supposed) final words were “don’t strike!” In both Eddas, Loki is always portrayed as a cunning trickster. In the Prose Edda, Snorri describes Loki as “pleasing and handsome in appearance, evil in character, very capricious in behavior. He possessed to a greater degree than other [gods] the kind of learning that is called cunning.”

Besides appearances, Loki is always getting the gods into trouble and then cleverly extricating them from the mess he’s made. He fathers the Midgard Serpent destined to bring about Ragnarök, the end of the world in Norse mythology. He convinces the blind god Hodr to kill the beautiful and favored god Baldur. He kidnaps the goddess Idun to save his own hide from a furious giant. The mythological character is constantly switching sides—sometimes supporting the gods and sometimes their enemies, the giants. In the MCU, Loki is both hero and villain—in The Avengers he opened a wormhole in New York City releasing alien monsters and in Thor: Ragnarok he helped Thor save the Asgardians from Hela’s wrath.

Thorwald’s Cross, a fragmented runestone depicting Odin being consumed. Image: Public Domain

Loki might have begun as a Norse god of fire—fitting considering how fire can be both “helpful and destructive,” said Brown. Fire can both burn down your house and cook you dinner. It’s tricky that way—like Loki. As Brown puts it, “You can see his two sides there [reflected in fire].” Brown also explains that there was likely a transformation in Loki over the centuries. “Within the myths, you can see Loki moving from being just mischievous to being absolutely evil. If you think of him as only being mischievous, he’s actually a creative force and often ends up getting the gods much of their magical possessions, like Thor’s Hammer, through his cunning.” Again, it’s just like Marvel’s Loki, who sometimes helps the other gods out, like when he teamed up with Thor to escape the Grandmaster in Thor: Ragnarok.

What is Loki’s relationship with the Devil?

In the long, slow conversion of the Vikings to Christianity that took place between the 9th and 12th centuries, Loki became a parallel to the Christian Devil. The creative, positive elements of him fell away leaving only the god favored by the Father (Odin/God) before getting cast out. (It does sound a bit like Lucifer, right?) Christianity paints a world that is far more black and white, good vs. evil than the Norse pagan religion—here’s little room for a grey, ambiguous figure like Loki. As Brown puts it, “The Christian religion insists that you’re either with us or against us. Whereas in what we understand of the pagan Viking religion, there were a lot of shades of grey. There was a spectrum on which you could move back and forth. You weren’t all one thing or all the other. You weren’t all female or all male. You weren’t all good or all evil. It was more human.”

Loki always moved fluidly between those two polarities—helping Thor in one story, causing an overthrow of the gods in another. In one tale, Loki shapeshifts into a mare, becoming the mother of Odin’s great 8-legged horse, Sleipnir. In another, he fathers the wolf Fenrir. The Church couldn’t really handle all that grey area Loki liked to inhabit, and so it eventually cast him as the devil himself. “[Monks] had to sort the gods into saints and devils, and Loki by being sexually ambiguous and also morally ambiguous falls into the devil [category],” explained Brown. Though Marvel’s Loki certainly channels a bit of the devil at times, we’ve luckily yet to see him become both mother and father to world-ending, multi-legged monsters in the Marvel Universe. But, there’s still time, especially with the new Disney+ series hitting the small screen.

When was Loki’s Revival?

After the Viking conversion, the Norse myths started to fade, and Loki with them—until the 1600s, when medieval manuscripts like those containing the Prose and Poetic Edda began to be translated. “The reason [these myths] became popular was because of nationalism,” Brown told us. “In the mid to late 1800s, there was the idea that what distinguished one nation from another was its cultural heritage.” This spurred Jacob Ludwig Karl Grimm and Wilhelm Carl Grimm—known to many simply as the Brothers Grimm—to go “collect the stories of the local people to prove that Germany was a nation, not a collection of states. You had the same thing happening in Ireland to prove that they were different from the English and you have the same thing happening in Iceland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.” This eventually gave rise to the Nazis appropriating Norse myths in their twisted pursuit of alleging Aryan supremacy.

Following the Civil War, the United States also looked to the Middle Ages to redefine the country’s fractured identity. As Chris Bishop, author of Medievalist Comics and the American Century, explained to io9, “[the Middle Ages] offered an aesthetic that was individualistic (think: the knight errant, Robin Hood, etc.), given to interpretations of exceptionalism (Camelot, the once and future king), venerable (where old equalled established and respectable), and (unlike Classicism) Christian.” The Middle Ages, or more accurately the remixing of the Middle Ages known in academia as “medievalisms,” appealed to many Americans obsessed with ideas of American exceptionalism and singularity in the 19th century. Eventually the U.S.’s obsession with the Middle Ages made its way into comic books starting with Prince Valiant in 1937, a comic strip created by Hal Foster set in and around the legends of King Arthur. Other medievalist comics followed eventually leading to the inclusion of Norse gods like Loki, Thor, and Odin.

First appearance of Loki in the 1949 Venus comics. Image: Wikicommons

When was Marvel Comics’ Loki introduced?

While Loki first appeared in the 1949 comic book Venus styled after (you guessed it) the devil, the modern-age Loki didn’t hit the comic book scene until co-writers and brothers Stan Lee and Larry Lieber adapted him in 1962’s Journey into Mystery #85. It’s in that issue where Loki “becomes Thor’s enemy/ally/brother/adopted brother/etc,” said Bishop. The mischievous personality of the Norse god remains largely the same in the Loki of the comic books and films and even retains the ability to swap genders at times.

In the comics, Loki is raised as Thor’s brother in Asgard—somewhere the Marvel stories diverge from the Norse mythology. It’s Loki and Odin who are sworn brothers in the Norse myths, not Loki and Thor. As Brown explains, “Loki and Odin are blood brothers, which means they are even closer than real brothers.” In the Viking world, two people who swore a blood oath to one another formed a bond that went beyond kin, and so went the Norse Loki and Odin’s relationship. As Bishop points out, the Loki/Thor dynamic of the comics and movies is a “classic, formulaic archetype.” Thor is the “big, hunky, handsome (but slightly dumb) hero” and Loki is “his slight, quirky but super-smart frenemy. Loki is the dark, misunderstood, vulnerable shadow that audiences can relate to, reach out to, care for. Thor is that dumb jock who everyone looked up to at school, but Loki was that cool, quiet kid who went on to found a tech-empire.”

Why is Loki called a Trickster?

What does remain consistent with Loki is that he always plays the trickster. He is the manifestation of psychologist Carl Jung’s archetype: The trickster disrupts the individual and/or society causing either growth or destruction. Social scientist Helena Bassil-Morozow points out that when it comes to Loki, “despite the fact that the narrative details between the medieval Loki stories and their contemporary versions vary, the main idea remains the same—the trickster mercilessly attacks those in power and nearly causes the end of the world.” Both in the Norse myths and in Marvel, the world needs saving from Loki. He acts as the catalyst for a whole lot of upheaval—upheaval that in the Norse myths causes Ragnarök.

Loki “functions as a locus of salvation (literally, a prodigal son).” Loki just might be a savior. He’s someone audiences can look at and think “if Loki can be redeemed, so too might I.”

Perhaps that’s where the two narratives differ the most. In the Norse tales, the end of the world at Ragnarök is inevitable. Odin and Thor will die. Everything will change. Vikings lived with the knowledge that their world would end. In the MCU, we don’t know how the story ends, plus Ragnarök took place already and yet the Asgardians live on. There’s still hope that Loki will prove to be good and that the other superheroes will save the world from whatever mayhem he’s caused, or so we can hope in the upcoming Disney+ series. As Bishop puts it, Loki “functions as a locus of salvation (literally, a prodigal son).” Loki just might be a savior. He’s someone audiences can look at and think “if Loki can be redeemed, so too might I,” explains Bishop.

While the Vikings’ Loki caused the end of the world, today’s Loki might just save it. Or maybe not. And, perhaps that’s the fun of the trickster—you never quite know what they’ll get up to.

[canmom]

Scannán Dé Máirt 25: Northern Ireland!

Hello my friends... I hope you had a suitably terrifying Halloween. This week, Toku Tuesday comes to you from the house of the delightful and sexy @baeddelfrom a paramilitary controlled estate outside Belfast... which means our theme is gonna be Northern Irish films! (Animation Night too... but more on that in a bit.)

Northern Ireland!

I won’t try to give you a detailed history of Northern Ireland in the next twenty minutes, covering the ~four hundred year gap after we talked about Cromwell on Animation Night 49. But to give a very brief story, Northern Ireland currently sits in an uneasy balance of power between the forces of the state and two paramilitary blocs ‘representing’ (holding coercive force over) the Protestant/Loyalist and Catholic/Nationalist populations, which in this context function as ethnicities as much or more than religions.

Where I’m writing this, for example, the wielders of ‘legitimate’ force are not the police but a Loyalist paramilitary whose murals are visible on houses as you enter the estate. The paramilitaries function in many ways like gangs (controlling the drug trade, extracting protection money) but also routinely make shows of force (yesterday I heard about armed UDF men a few estates over emptying a bus of people and torching it for unknown reasons, which was discussed rather like you would the weather) and will carry out spectacular punishments. To quote Jackie:

the loyalist paramilitaries went through a profound involution, becoming ethnoreligious dictatorships with exclusive police authority over the communities they claim to represent, battling among each other for control over housing estates. they possessed exclusive control over the black market, forced all businesses to pay them protection, and controlled most commercial services (taxi cabs, window cleaners, and so on). they exiled troublemakers, wounded lawbreakers, and murdered their opponents. your neighbours are taken away in the middle of the night and no one asks what happened. you wake up to breaking glass and gunshots, but no screams. then the paramilitaries appropriate the house of their victim and lease it out themselves. the IMC make an uncharacteristically wry remark that this is just “one amongst many ways in which paramilitaries continued to do what they had always done, namely doing violence to their own communities.” (IMC, pg. 14)

To try and paraphrase some of our conversations, this situation can be situated in the context of the lasting echo of the European Wars of Religion, the particular patterns of settlement in Northern Ireland (English Protestant landowners enjoying the policy of Protestant Ascendancy, a larger mostly Presbyterian settler population from many parts of Europe who became the current ‘Protestant’ side, and the native population who had largely been converted to Catholicism long before the English colonialism) in the long term; then, skimming over a lot, in the 20th century, it becomes a story of callous, half-hearted colonial withdrawal.

Following the First World War, in which Irish people were conscripted to fight for Britain, the ‘Irish Question’ as the British saw it (with different factions pushing for ‘Home Rule’ which devolved certain parts of power to two parts of Ireland, and for appeasement while keeping power in Britain) was largely settled by a series of wars which established the Irish Free State as an independent ‘Dominion’ of the British Empire. But meanwhile, Northern Ireland remained under control of Britain, which of course became increasingly contentious in the 60s. So why didn’t Britain give up NI as well?

In Britain’s Long War, a historical survey of British strategy in Northern Ireland, Peter R. Neumann rejects arguments that the British governments felt obliged to rule Northern Ireland for strategic reasons, or because they feared it would become a Cuba-like source of revolution, or that they saw it as some kind of integral part of British culture, with the government tending instead to view both the Protestants and Catholics alike with disdain. Instead, he writes, the combination of fear of genocide breaking out and its immediate proximity led the British gov to stay in essentially on the basis of trying to cause as little trouble as possible for themselves, knowing that events in NI would be heavily watched and televised:

[In the 1960s as the Troubles broke out] The principal aim of the British government was, as Home Secretary James Callaghan put it, not ‘to get sucked into the Irish bog’.[60]

Yet, all the governments during the 1969–98 period eventually arrived at the same conclusion: that using the constitutional instrument in order to pursue a policy of Irish unity would lead to sectarian strife and civil war, and that the consequences of ‘walking out’ were ‘to leave the Irish to murder one another’.[22] It is not entirely clear what mechanics were anticipated in that case, but London appeared to assume that the withdrawal of British troops would be followed by a Protestant genocide of the Catholic minority, thus provoking a military intervention of the Republic of Ireland.

This, however, was not a sufficient explanation in itself. After all, British withdrawal from India, Palestine and Cyprus had equally led to civil strife, and London had stuck to its original decision nonetheless. The difference between the former colonies and Northern Ireland was its closeness to Great Britain, and Westminster’s constant awareness of the province’s proximity resulted in a strengthened sense of responsibility.

This leads, in Neumann’s thinking, to a rather paradoxical policy where the British government simultaneously couldn’t stand to leave Northern Ireland, and continuing to do violence there, but also wishing to have as little as possible to do with the place:

If closeness produced responsibility, it also served to guide London’s efforts to keep the province at arm’s length. A ‘responsible’ government would prevent the conflict from disrupting Westminster politics and from becoming a contentious issue in parliament; it would protect its (mainland) citizens from any conflict-related instability or violence; and it would attempt to limit the extent to which Northern Ireland made the government vulnerable in its dealings with other countries. In essence, a responsible government would try to contain the negative effects of the conflict to Northern Ireland. As a result, the proximity of the province and the sense of responsibility it had induced resulted in two – seemingly contradictory – lines of thinking: there was an incentive to distance Northern Ireland from Great Britain, yet at the same time there was a disincentive to bring this process to its apparently logical conclusion, that is, to withdraw from the province.

Which means the loyalist side are simultaneously committed by long tradition to their colonial patrons, and celebrate when the cops fight the IRA, they also must know that they’re being held at arms length, sometimes supported by and sometimes clashing with the police. The British government meanwhile answered to a population who paradoxically vacillated between wishing to leave Northern Ireland to its fate, and wishing to see reprisals when the IRA bombed somewhere in England.

So the British governments’ policies were very paradoxical and deluded: they wanted to stay in, but also do as little as possible; they wanted to minimise use of force, but also demonstrate ‘enough’ to supposedly reduce overall violence and appease those calling for them to be tough on the IRA; they wanted to maintain the narrative that they were upholding democracy against terrorism, by resorting to such means as detention without trial; and they also wanted to get their soldiers out and cede control to the Irish police, ignoring that they were recruiting essentially another Protestant coercive force to play their own supposedly mediating role; they wanted to bring ‘moderates’ of both sides together to negotiate peace in which they imagined they could play a neutral role.

The result has been a kind of perpetual frozen-in-amber conflict which has, after the official ceasefire in the 90s, “retreated into the politics of threat and coercion” (Neumann, Jackie likes this quote :p), in which the paramilitaries largely enact violence on their own territory and turn towards reactionary populism shit about ‘protection of identity’ (as a large billboard featuring two guys with AKs put it), even appropriating outright Nazi iconography in the case of one Loyalist paramilitary (not the one here), and occasionally stage highly theatrical skirmishes with the police; people continue to be killed, but the situation moves no closer to any particular side’s overall desired outcome.

Anyway, movies!

...but anyway we’re not here to talk about Northern Ireland in general right now (I just like to write shit), we’re here to talk about movies.

From a quick survey of the wiki, the vast majority of Northern Irish films concern the Troubles, typically either historical films about real events, or dramas about members of one or other paramilitaries hurting people or trying to get out or etc. (This category includes good old ‘wildly transmisogynist’ The Crying Game (1992)). Starting in the 2000s, with the Good Friday Agreement in place, things seemed to open up a bit more; you started getting films about dog racing (e.g. Man About Dog (2004) and The Mighty Celt (2005)), crime dramas, and even a couple of science fiction films.

Which, since this is ostensibly Toku Tuesday, is going to be our main subject tonight!

Our first movie is low budget sci-fi horror film Ghost Machine (2009), in which a couple of soldiers attempt to have some fun with a stolen VR training program in an abandoned prison, only to discover it’s haunted. This movie seems to have been seen by almost nobody; it has broadly middling-negative reviews on IMDb, but since most of the reviewers are, beyond dismissing it as boring, quibbling the film’s supposedly overly leftist political bent, the amount of gore/torture, or unoriginality - which mostly strike me as probably good things or irrelevant - I have relatively little idea whether this will be good or not by my tastes! Definitely worth taking a shot on.

The director, Chris Hartwill, has relatively few credits to his name: a couple of TV shows and a TV spot about driving without a seatbelt. I did find a brief interview segment with the screenwriter Sven Hughes, but it says very little substantial. So this is honestly a total roll of the dice.

Our second movie is a monster B-movie horror-comedy with a goofy premise: alien tentacle monsters are attacking an island off the coast of Ireland, but they can be defeated by high blood alcohol; thus it is incumbent on the protagonists to spend most of the movie drunk. This one generally seemed to be received fairly well by critics at the time, so we shall have to see whether the comedy strikes the right chord with us!

That’s all I have on sci-fi; my representative for “Films About The Troubles” while steering away from dramatisations of real events is going to be kinda arbitrarily the spy thriller Shadow Dancer (2012), which sees a woman recruited by an MI5 agent to become a mole in the IRA, only for both parties to realise too late that she’s been recruited as a patsy to protect her mother, who is also a mole for MI5.

Most of these not-directly-historical films, including this one, take one of two approaches: either they seem to take the IRA primarily in a narrative of ‘scary terrorists’, and sympathise with agents of the British state, or they are about someone ‘caught between both sides of the troubles’. This is perhaps because the vast majority of these movies seem to be BBC funded and thus inclined towards London’s view; perhaps more generally filmmakers don’t want to be seen to be taking sides or inflaming matters.

So in this case, I suspect it’s quite dramatised and probably won’t tell much about what it’s actually like to be a paramilitary member, but it seems to have been very well received at the film festivals when it landed, so I think it is probably worth a shot.

I’ve taken way longer on my writeup than I planned, but luckily for us my sleep schedule is completely gone; we’ll begin Toku Tuesday Scannán Dé Máirt in as long as it takes for me to eat some soup, so probably about twenty minutes, at https://www.twitch.tv/canmom !

[aliveanddrunkonsunlight]

quality time

There are so many wonderful fics being posted for @jb-smut-swap!

quality time centers around togetherness; Jaime x Brienne + love languages based off @observedchaos post

For @naomignome

*

“Perhaps I should go to King’s Landing with you.” He says it so easily, but Brienne’s hands freeze against his laces. 

Jaime struggles with some tasks, still, too proud to accept help, except for this one thing he allows her to do. She helps him dress every morning and undress every night, fingers nimbly undoing the laces of his tunic, his breeches. 

She raises her gaze to his, taking in a breath. “You do not have to.” The last time they visited the capital was shortly before they sailed to Tarth. The shock in his eyes upon seeing the city in ruins has haunted her since. 

As she steps away from him, rounding the bed, he asks. “Are you embarrassed of me?” His question slams into her, like an unexpected attack from behind. 

Brienne turns, startled. “No, I thought you…” she lets out a sigh. “I was not sure how easy it was for you to be there.” Jaime holds no love for the Targaryen queen. Brienne is not sure what to make of her still, except she allowed him to live. If she had not done that... 

After the war’s end, Jaime was the one who gently suggested he might accompany her to Tarth. She was not certain what the island might look like after being ravaged by pirates and the Golden Company, and part of her was scared to return, to pick up her father’s mantle. Brienne never expected him to stay forever, but she’s happy to provide Jaime a refuge here. Wherever she is, he is always welcome. “You are embarrassed of me,” he states, as if it is fact. 

“Jaime.” He’s being petulant. “I am not embarrassed of you.” It would be unusual to have the Evenstar show up to conduct business with the new Regent with a guest in tow, but they are far beyond worrying about society’s gossip. 

“Is it because we dishonor the gods?” She almost laughs because neither of them has much use for religion, but he is whispering as if they might hear him. “Because you have taken me into your bed? Perhaps we should marry then.” 

It falls out of his mouth so easily, so quietly, as if it is an afterthought. Yet it rattles her as much as a strong hit to the head, the type that leaves her ears ringing. “What did you say?”

His eyes are twin emeralds, dark and dangerous in shadow, but softer and more beautiful in the light. “You heard me, Lady Brienne.” 

She never expected romance, but that was hardly--“It was not even a question.” The irritation rising in her chest manifests itself in her shaking hands. They are standing across from each other, the chasm of the bed between them. “If you mean to command me, then I shall take you out into the yard and make you prove your worth.”  

He lifts a sole eyebrow at her. “If that is what you wish,” he draws out lazily. “But you already know I am worthy, do you not? You have broken me in, like that pale gray palfrey you ride.” 

“Jaime.” This time his name is meant as a warning. He is rarely sharp and bitter like this. Not anymore, not with her. He is hurting, somehow. “I haven’t--you’re not...it’s not like that.”  

“Then what is it like? You let me into your bed every night, sometimes you even want me in the afternoons. What would you call that?” 

She’s never considered it before. Not precisely in the way Jaime is asking her to. It’s always been them. It’s how they are, what they do. Things between them have been this way since before the Battle of the Long Night. Coming together to comfort one another during the very worst of circumstances, but now it has continued for far longer than she dared to imagine it might. “I like having you here, but I never...I expected you to return to the mainland. To rebuild your life somewhere, like all of us have done.” Her words are blunt and unvarnished, like a wooden tourney sword, but they are true. Or at least they were when they boarded a ship together and sailed towards her home. In all these months, they have never spoken about what it means that he is still here.  

“I see.” She wishes for a glint in his eye, searches for some small sign of expression, but there is nothing. His gaze falls from hers and for a long moment there is silence between them. Then Jaime moves away from his side of the bed, his feet padding across the marble, stepping slowly towards her. “You never once thought I might want to rebuild my life with someone by my side? The person who fought beside me against the wights, who has seen to it to salvage my honor?”

He is standing in front of her now, so close she can feel the heat from his body, yet she demurs. “I did not do as you say, ser.” 

“Brienne.” Now he is the one who sounds frustrated with her. 

“Let me finish,” she barrels onwards, a bit unlike her, but she wants him to hear it. “You did that, the honor part, all on your own. You do realize that, don’t you?” 

His eyes soften. “And yet you still do not understand why I might want to spend the rest of my life with the person who sees the best in me?” A tentative smile pulls at his face.

No, she does understand that. Jaime sees her for who she is and loves her anyway. She thought he knew she felt the same about him. She loves him for who he is, has for the longest, longest time. “Marry me,” she whispers. 

He steps into her, his mouth warm on hers, his arm sliding around her waist. “Do I still need to fight you in the yard?” he murmurs. 

She shakes her head. “No.” 

“It might be fun.” His face slides into that teasing expression she knows so well.  

“It would be,” Brienne agrees, a little breathless.  

He reaches up, dragging his thumb ever so gently across the scar on her cheek. “Yes,” he whispers. “That is my answer. Yes.” 

She cannot resist teasing him. “To the yard?”   

“To marriage, you stubborn woman,” he practically growls in her ear before they tumble down onto the mattress. 

When she arrives in King’s Landing a few weeks later, Jaime is by her side, and as they enter the Throne Room, they are announced as Lady Brienne, the Evenstar of Tarth, and her Lord Husband.

*

Author’s Note: This one was a bit of a cheat, as Jaime was asking about KL in order to spend quality time with her, but we don’t actually see it “on screen” as it were.

[missserpentia-fae]

Take Care of Them

Author’s Note: OKAY! Wow. I did not expect this to get so much notes. It was just a side thing that I was interested in writing and never expected many people to like it. Thank you for the love! I will continue this. I’m slowly building it up and I hope you guys enjoy it.

I will make a master list so that it will be easier to navigate through my blog but I might do that when I reach a certain chapter (chapter 5 maybe)

MC is presented as female but uses gender neutral pronouns (doesn’t use too much female clothing either, their behavior just seems more feminine)

Warnings: Hmm..? If you’re touchy on religion, I’d advise you to not continue reading. (I wrote this for fun)

If any of the characters are OC, tell me so I can try and adjust it. Also, the way I depict God is loosely on what I believe he would be. I’ll go into a much more detailed description of what I think he’s like based on my beliefs.

Takes place after Lesson 18 but before Lesson 19

Pairings: Obey me boys x MC/Reader

Idea: God talking to MC in a dream or such about the brothers

Part 1 

Chapter 2

MC jerked awake, looking around their room in a panic. They clutched at their head when they finally got their bearings together before whispering, "Was that... real?"

They looked slowly around the room before their eyes landed on the table beside their bed. An envelope was sitting innocently on top of it, wisps of light escaping the sealed paper. Their eyes widened, clasping a hand over their mouth before they whispered. "It...It wasn't a dream? I really met... Him?"

They startled when there was a sudden pounding on their door, pulling them away from their thoughts. "Hey human! Wake up already! Yer gonna be late if ya sleep in! You're gonna miss breakfast if Beel eats it all."

"I'll be there Mammon! Save me a plate." They yelled through the door, getting out of bed and listened to Mammon grumbling through the door as his footsteps receded. They picked the envelope on their bedside table and hid it in their underwear drawing, knowing that the brothers will stay out of that particular drawer out of respect for the human. "I'll read it when I get back home. I need to get ready for class!"

MC floated through their class, their mind always drifting back to their dream and what could be the contents of the letter. They didn't notice that the seven demon lords were watching them worriedly or that Simeon seemed to pick up something familiar coming from them.

"Hey Simeon." Simeon hummed, turning to look at the human who was alone, none of the brothers trailing after them which was odd in itself. They were fiddling with their tie and seemed to look around them in hidden worry. They took a deep breath in before lifting their head to stare into his eyes, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, little lamb. What can I help you with?" Simeon smiled, his light blue eyes sparkling in encouragement. MC gulped before asking softly, their voice barely above a whisper, "What...? What's your Father like?"

The angel looked confused and surprised at their question but he answered nonetheless. "He's strict but He gives off a calming aura. You can't help but feel safe when He's nearby. He doesn't typically have a physical form but He does appear human when He needs to show Himself."

The human looked deep in thought before Simeon asked, lifting a hand to pat the human's head. "Is there a problem, little lamb? You look troubled and deep in thought. No wonder those brothers have been looking so concerned all day."

"Huh?" MC looked confused before Simeon chuckled, removing his hand from their head. They finally seemed to process what he asked before responding, "I was just thinking... I had a weird... dream but I don't know if it was a dream or not."

The other exchange student tilted his head in question. The human sighed before answering his silent question, "I think I met your Father last night."

Simeon let out a sound of surprise as the human explained, lifting an arm to tousle their hair in frustration, "He said that He wanted to talk to me and He talked a little bit about the Great Celestial War. He also said that He will talk to me again soon. He brought me to... Purgatory? It's a pure white place that seemed endless."

"Sounds about right. I can at least confirm to you that it is real and not a dream since you know how Purgatory looks like and you’re still here and alive." Simeon hummed in thought before he shot the worried looking human a comforting smile. "You should continue meeting with Him. I don't know what goes on in His head but I'm sure He doesn't mean any harm to you or to my fallen brothers."

The angel's handsome face wrinkled up in a look of worry before he fixed a firm look on MC, "Piece of advice: Don't tell the brother yet. Wait for a bit and then ask Father what you should do. I don't think it would go well if you told the brothers that you're meeting with Father."

MC nodded before stepping forward, pulling Simeon into a tight hug. The angel didn't hug back immediately but slowly, he wrapped his arms around the short human. They nuzzled into his chest, smiling softly at feeling him tuck their head underneath his chin.

He tightened his hold on them, squeezing them tightly almost like he was trying to comfort them. They stayed in that position for a bit, just basking in each other's presence before they were interrupted.

"Whaddya think yer doin' to my human, Simeon?!" MC pulled their head away from Simeon's chest and turned to see Mammon fuming from all the way at the other end of the hallway. The white haired demon was stomping his way down the corridor towards the two. They chuckled before patting Simeon's chest, tilting their head to stare into his warm blue eyes. "Thank you again for listening to me Simeon."

"Anything for you, little lamb." He smiled warmly, waving his goodbyes when Mammon finally reached them and started dragging the human away from the tall angel.

"What were ya even doin' with him?" Mammon pouted and MC chuckled at the expression on his face, nudging him softly as they teased him, "Were you jealous, Mammon?"

Mammon looked offended but the blush on his cheeks said otherwise, "J-Jealous?! Why would I be jealous? I'm yer first man, I don't have competition... so." Mammon looked away, blush still evident on his cheeks, "If ya wanna cuddle with someone, ya just have to ask m-me."

The human giggled before wrapping their arm around Mammon's arm, "Okay Mammon. I'll make sure to remember that."

"Yeah. Ya better. The Great Mammon will always be here for ya." Mammon huffed before he tugged them in the direction of the House of Lamentation. "Now, let's get ya home."

--

MC entered their room just after they finished eating dinner, shutting and locking the door behind them, worried that one of the brothers will burst in when they didn't want any of them in their room. They headed straight to their drawer, opening it and rummaging through it until they got what they needed. They sat on their bed, staring blankly at the envelope in contemplation. They turned it over and admired the glimmering seal that kept the envelope shut.

The human took a deep breath in before breaking the seal, watching in wonder as wisps of light flew through the air from the opening of the envelope. They took the letter out and unfolded it, their eyes following as words slowing wrote itself onto the paper in beautiful gold script.

Hello, my child.

I know you probably don't believe that our previous escapade happened but everything that happened in your dream did occur. I see that you told Simeon about your dream. I hope that you talking to one of my angels will allow you to be more willing to meet with me to talk about your adventures with my sons and in exchange, I shall share stories of them while they were still angels. I also wish to introduce to you the brother's counterparts, or as you humans know them, the seven Heavenly Virtues.

I look forward to meeting you once again, my child.

God

MC smiled before putting the letter away. As soon as they hid the letter, a knock sounded on her door. "MC! Normie! Open the door! I need someone to rant about the new episode of 'I’m male and I died and I got reincarnated as a female and I don’t know what to do with all these guys courting me, help!"

The human shook their head in fond exasperation before leaving their bed, opening the door for the third eldest brother to walk in who immediately started ranting. The purple haired demon strolled up to their bed, plopping himself right at the edge of the bed as he continued with his rant. MC closed the door behind them before approaching the demon and sitting beside him, listening intently to the demon.

Part 3

[dog-day-morning]

WRONG MESSIAH WRONG PEOPLE Acts 1:1-14 Israel is run by gentiles who are not Israelite by blood. They call themselves Jews by declaration not by lineage. Jews are in the midst of casting out God's chosen people from Israel for fear of the prophetic word that states these Edomite gentiles, along with an admixture of the people of Alkebulan’s (Israel), whose DNA the Father anointed has blessed them will bow down, and worship at our feet. They fear the truth knowing we’ve determined the lies they’ve told us were intended to hide our identity from us, and the world out of hatred. The Jewish holocaust lasted for 4yrs whereas the curses of Deuteronomy have lasted 400yrs, and counting. No other tribe of people has suffered like the Israelites according to the curses, and accounts in Deuteronomy 28 save a peculiar people. And it shall come to pass, that as the Lord rejoiced over you to do you good, and to multiply you; so the Lord will rejoice over you to destroy you, and to bring you to nought; and ye shall be plucked from off the land whither thou goest to possess it. And the Lord shall scatter thee among all people, from the one end of the earth even unto the other; and there thou shalt serve other gods, which neither thou nor thy fathers have known, even wood and stone. This is why I don't worship other religious faiths or religions. I'm cautious when it comes to Christianity knowing the deviltry of man, and the depths he will go, and has in order to maintain his stranglehold on us as a people. What allows a person to never be held accountable for their sins on Earth, but makes a race or tribe of people the burden bearer for all of Earth's iniquity? The devil is an accuser whose minions are fearful of the word manifesting in this generation. What we see on display isn't just a show of rebellion, but a fear of an arrogant people losing their position in the Earth which was only meant to be temporary, but in truth it wasn't meant to be at all. If 5 Black males congregate on a street corner it puts fear, spite, and hatred in the hearts of the so-called fragile psyche of those who want to control us. They call the Police in the hope of getting innocent people arrested or murdered. But 200 members of the proud boys can march through Urban Philadelphia in a show of defiance with Police protection, and nobody confronts them except a different breed of Black, Brown, and white people who are not like their fathers of old who relish in the thought of sending Jethro back to the woods with the rest of the hood boogers. The Jewish cabal worships Satan in the literal sense. They are the Devils cronies who know their time is up. Therefore rejoice, ye heavens, and ye that dwell in them. Woe to the inhabiters of the earth and of the sea! for the devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time. They understand that the God of our fathers isn't playing games. If you ascribe this to my person as I’ve done in theory, how can God's 2 faithful witnesses see the Son of God and His Father if their hearts hadn't been tried like some of you? Revelation 11:3-13 3 And I will give power unto my two witnesses, and they shall prophesy a thousand two hundred and threescore days, clothed in sackcloth. 4 These are the two olive trees, and the two candlesticks standing before the God of the earth. 5 And if any man will hurt them, fire proceedeth out of their mouth, and devoureth their enemies: and if any man will hurt them, he must in this manner be killed. 6 These have power to shut heaven, that it rain not in the days of their prophecy: and have power over waters to turn them to blood, and to smite the earth with all plagues, as often as they will. 7 And when they shall have finished their testimony, the beast that ascendeth out of the bottomless pit shall make war against them, and shall overcome them, and kill them. 8 And their dead bodies shall lie in the street of the great city, which spiritually is called Sodom and Egypt, where also our Lord was crucified. 9 And they of the

people and kindreds and tongues and nations shall see their dead bodies three days and an half, and shall not suffer their dead bodies to be put in graves. 10 And they that dwell upon the earth shall rejoice over them, and make merry, and shall send gifts one to another; because these two prophets tormented them that dwelt on the earth. 11 And after three days and an half the spirit of life from God entered into them, and they stood upon their feet; and great fear fell upon them which saw them. 12 And they heard a great voice from heaven saying unto them, Come up hither. And they ascended up to heaven in a cloud; and their enemies beheld them. 13 And the same hour was there a great earthquake, and the tenth part of the city fell, and in the earthquake were slain of men seven thousand: and the remnant were affrighted, and gave glory to the God of heaven. The God of Israel has decreed this. The Jews in Israel will suffer a harsh penalty for their crimes against the Nigerian, Igbo Israelites, the Ethiopian Beta Israelites, the Ugandan Abayudaya, and other sects of Israelite people including the American tribal people of Ghana Africa (Judah), Gad (Native American), Reuben (Aboriginal Australian), and Issachar (Mexican South American descendants.) They are deporting the Yisraelites in Alkebulan out of Yisrael as though this can inundate God's plan. You’re bringing God to a higher and greater glory, fulfilling the promises He made to His people in this day for this generation. Joshua 24:13 13 And I have given you a land for which ye did not labour, and cities which ye built not, and ye dwell in them; of the vineyards and olive yards which ye planted not do ye eat. It’s a shame to construct a global economy only to be denied the American dream; it's a nightmare. For those that cater to the State of Israel like some Congressmen, and women who are Edomite Jews that are not willing to put in place a reparations plan for the ADOS, FBA, and all indigenous people of North America based on the Western Nations financing of the temporary inhabitants of Israel is an injustice to humanity. Our oppressor isn’t going to give up his throne or authority willingly, he’s drunk with it. Look to God to deliver us not man, especially those who historically have shown their extreme distaste and revulsion for us. God tells us: If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land. God foreknew, He's all knowing, and all seeing. If one of them were to cosign a reparations bill for Black people they would’ve been found dead inside their congressional office within days or maybe hours. When your own people who look as you do, but think according to their massa’s will, in order to live a season of sin with the wicked advocating for the gentiles who live off our promised inheritance, and this nonphysical, hidden, unseen, but shrewd, devious bit of craft called white privilege, that Black people who believe in Yeshua spiritually call favor with God. What this microwave generation has asserted, and addressed as privilege in actuality is sinister, and diabolical. It's a Janus-like, double minded, spirit of torment that has caused a lot of agony to a people they refuse to relinquish that will bring a harsh judgment to them and the Earth, and yes, I’m paying my price. The people of Canaan were destroyed after having knowledge of the true living God. The Father isn't one who relishes in the spilling of innocent blood. He will always send you a warning before calamity comes to your doorstep. He's been doing it for the last 2,000 years. Like the Egyptians they refused to believe in the God the Israelites praised, and worshipped thinking He finds favor in them who shed innocent blood. This is the situation we find the Earth in once more with the Israelites who this time are being forced out of their homeland waiting for a deliverer. The people that lived in Canaan were not ignorant of

the God of Israel. Many times the impression is given that God ordered the Israelites to swoop in and destroy innocent people. But these people were neither innocent nor ignorant. They had heard about the God of Israel; it was they who rejected Him. When the 2 spies were sent to spy out the Land of Promise they were told by Rahab the prostitute: Joshua 2:9-11 9 And she said unto the men, I know that the Lord hath given you the land, and that your terror is fallen upon us, and that all the inhabitants of the land faint because of you. 10 For we have heard how the Lord dried up the water of the Red sea for you, when ye came out of Egypt; and what ye did unto the two kings of the Amorites, that were on the other side Jordan, Sihon and Og, whom ye utterly destroyed. 11 And as soon as we had heard these things, our hearts did melt, neither did there remain any more courage in any man, because of you: for the Lord your God, he is God in heaven above, and in earth beneath. They had heard of the true God but had rejected Him. Consequently, their entire society acted in a sinful way. The Apostle Paul spoke of these people: Though they knew God they refused to believe let alone acknowledge Him as the true living God. The Father let their minds become reprobate following their flesh. What comes good of the flesh people? Nothing. They were shapen in iniquity, and in sin did their mothers conceive them. Israel is the biggest Nation on Earth that supports the Trans community being led by a morbidly, corrupted government overrun with rampant homosexuality, and like Amerikkka they endorse pedophilia. Of all the Nations on the Earth, Israel ranks number one in unnatural sex, and relations more so than the United States of Amerikkka, and Amerikkka’s European counterparts. When Jews here in the states get arrested for unlawful sexual acts committed against children those who have convenient connections are able to seek refuge, and fly to Israel fleeing prosecution. Oftentimes this is warranted, by US gov’t protection agencies who assist them in their transition back to Israel. Larry Nassar whose last name is Jewish, but they claim him not. The faith he was raised in makes him a Catholic which reeks of corruption, and entitlement that exceeds the realm of sexually deviant malfeasance executed by this religious sect that historically has gotten away with the most egregious sins committed against God's innocent ones. The FBIs handling of his high profile case was a case study in buffoonery, and an insane margin of flexibility that cannot be explained to a person of a simple mind. Hopefully this gov’t will learn which is doubtful. Pray that the payoff of a high monetary lawsuit will make the US government look at this flawed system, and send Goober Pyle back to law school or a police precinct to learn how to do his job. This is not privilege, it’s sin. Romans 1:21-25 21 Because that, when they knew God, they glorified him not as God, neither were thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened. 22 Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools, 23 And changed the glory of the uncorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and four footed beasts, and creeping things. 24 Wherefore God also gave them up to uncleanness through the lusts of their own hearts, to dishonour their own bodies between themselves: 25 Who changed the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped and served the creature more than the Creator, who is blessed for ever. Amen. The inhabitants of Canaan were neither ignorant nor innocent victims of an angry God. They were committing these terrible sins being fully aware of the true and living God. Because they rejected Him, God judged them harshly. How do you explain the people of Israel, Amerikkka, Europe, and the rest of the West in this day and time? You can't without condemning them, and the rest of humanity which the Father had all authority to do. Instead, He sent His Son to die for Yisrael whom we rejected giving the

gentiles a pathway to His Kindome. Why do you refuse to accept His truth? Forgiving a jackass is like storing wine in old wineskins or plastic garbage bags. The messenger has made your hearts cold, and bitter towards the Father, and His Son Yeshua? Learn from us, and prepare for a New World in its natural order of things because this right here ain't it. Good evening people, Elohim 9/25/2021

[middleinthenight21]

Damirae week 2020- Day 2

Royalty AU

Warning: Adult content. 

The kingdom of Nanda Parbat is in the heart of the mountains, separated from society with a small population. However, they have a powerful army, whose warriors are so efficient that each could fight with six men at the same time. The leader calls himself "The Demon's Head", a strict and rigid old man who had reigned for more than fifty years.

Recently, his grandson had assumed the role. A young man who followed in the footsteps of the previous leader and made it his priority to enrich his kingdom through the war. He had obtained an expansion to the north, as he had investigated the new lands that brought a fruitful business in cultivation rice and control of trade routes with neighboring countries.

She pretends to be interested in the information about Nanda Parbat written on the parchment when one of her tutors’ flits around the small room they use to teach her. They had tried to instruct her in politics, history, she had an Arabic lesson for three hours a day and they were trying to teach her religion, all of this with blows.

The teacher's bar gently taps his hands and gives her a sharp look, as if reminding her of what could happen to her if she doesn't cooperate.

Raven is not well regarded in the harem of the palace; she is a foreigner who was brought from revolutionary France in a conquest. She had a background involved in rebel groups in her land conspiring for the fall of the despotic and corrupt monarch. She was not raised by her customs, does not worship the gods themselves (she is not even sure she believes in one), does not speak Arabic fluently, does not possess the traits considered attractive in women in Narba Parbat, and does not have the character or behavior that amass in young ladies from an early age.

Her first day in Nanda Parbat had been sad and confusing. She walked from her country handcuffed by soldiers who hardly gave her sidelong glances and murmured in another language when they first observed her. She was afraid that they would do something to her, and she already misses her friends, they were fine, she knew it in her heart and that brings relief. The monarch had fallen, Richard and the rebel grouping would build something better, it was a matter of time before the demon's head was removed and they could rise from the ashes.

She's just mad that she wasn't there to see that.

When she first observed the kingdom, she thought that she truly was no longer in her land. There was no smoke from the chimneys, nor the vast expanses of forest, there are no abusive noble lords to answer to and that green moss that is impossible to pull off the walls. Everything is very clean, tidy, even the climate is a subordinate, since it is warm, and her clothing made from the wool of the sheep begins to weigh on her body. A drop of sweat falls from her forehead.

She was dragged, tied by ropes around her hands. Held by a soldier dressed all in black, from whom only his slit eyes distinguish, she is forced to walk when the men get into a carriage pushed by a donkey.

Her feet hurt; she feels the pain of two days of walking without rest. She is poorly nourished and the dirt forms as a layer on her body.

She felt like she was about to pass out when her head is boiled by the rays of the sun.

"It would be nice if they gave me water," she asks.

The men gathered in the carriage look at her, some look away without caring about her request, others tilt their heads without understanding what she is saying. Raven repeats her words, but this time she mimics simulating clasping her hands together and drinking water.

No one listens to her.

"Why are you looking away? I am a person asking for something as basic as water. "

Raven knows that it is not because they do not understand, she is aware of the treatment that is given to women in some countries, France had not been the exception, however, the illustration and the books had penetrated deep into her soul. In her land women had been an important part of the revolution. They had united in arms when these soldiers invaded the kingdom and attacked the palace, the people had taken advantage of venting their anger towards the monarchy and bourgeoisie. It was the people who gave victory to the kingdom of the demon's head.

Perhaps she had grown too accustomed to raising her voice and being heard.

The one who she sensed was the captain leaned forward on his horse and hit her on the back with the hilt, silencing her. Raven writhed in pain, her teeth colliding with each other and her hands trembled at her sides, when she looked up the old man was looking at her with satisfaction. She looked at him with rancor and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Shaytan," he growled.

What did that mean?

The captain threw a leather bag at her feet, it is like a horn and from the sound he knows it contains water. She runs to the water, her throat feels dry as if it were made of sandpaper, she realizes that the entire caravan has stopped and there are dozens of eyes on her.

The old man on the horse is watching.

Raven's senses are activated.

She takes a small portion of water, holds it in his mouth for a few minutes trying to take small drinks and her throat thanks her. However, she takes note of the sweet taste, it is fresh as if just brought from a cold spring. She holds it in her slightly puffed cheeks so the soldiers wouldn't notice.

When there is no danger, she swallows the contents of the horn without decorum. The water that falls from her mouth she uses to moisten her body and the warm crown of her head where the sun's rays hit hardest.

"Thank you," she says to the old man, bowing her head in a kind of bow. She thinks that, if it were not for the fact that she was taken from her land, she could come to admire the man, since she had seen him worried about the health of his soldiers and distributing the supplies.

The captain raises his eyebrows, surprised.

He contemplates the empty bowl of water in his hands and looks at his soldiers "Shaytan dhaki."

Raven frowns, confused.

The next thing she remembers is being dragged towards the entrance to the city of Narba Parbat. The city has a rough beauty, the palace is a whitish construction like those foreign paintings of the eastern palaces with straight lines and the towers look like small houses stacked in earth tones. She had thought of Nanda Parbat as a city made of sand in the middle of the desert, but it has a deep oriental inspiration.

Nanba Parbat is surrounded by a wall made of stone.

The captain grabbed the rope when they reached the city gates and veered off in another direction. Her legs tangle with each other, she struggles to keep up with the gracefully trotting horse, and nearly falls several times.

She hasn't eaten anything in days and her feet are pounding. Her head begs her to stay alert, she doesn't know where this shoulder was taking her, she is a foreign girl and nobody would worry if she appears dead in the distance, she has no one to claim her and she needs to defend herself if necessary.

"Where are you taking me? "

The man turns his back on his horse.

They enter the city through another entrance, almost sighing in relief because at least more people would see if something would happen to her, even with all that, she is still a foreign girl.

They pass through a market. People stroll in robes, street vendors shout the prices of their products, there is music in the air somewhat like a flute. Large fabrics work like a makeshift ceiling, everything is cool in the market and there is a powerful smell of spices and incense in the air.

She is impressed by the colors, smells and textures.

In France there is nothing like this.

The women look at her, look scandalized, and some who walk with their children cover their eyes and take them away from her.

What is wrong with her clothing?

The captain pulls the rope, they continue to cross the market until they reach a house that is close to the royal palace. She thinks that perhaps he is going to hand her over to the authorities and they will execute her, but they deviate towards a small construction from which they see young people enter wearing elegant clothes. They are not the dresses that she is accustomed to seeing in the bourgeoisie, but soft fabrics in green and gold tones, their hair is dark, long to their back and their skin is golden or dark.

These women are delicate, like flowers and care about their appearance. She feels dirty and insignificant compared to them.

Raven frowns.

A woman opens the doors, she is plump, and a green veil covers her hair, her face covered in wrinkles, and when her gaze falls on her mouth twists down. She gives her a look from head to toe, to finally look at the man and from her mouth come a series of words that she does not understand, but surely, they are repudiation. She can feel it, she was always an intuitive person and she knows that she would not have the sympathy of this woman.

The captain responds and pulls on the rope, pulling her body forward.

The woman strides over to her and takes her hard by the chin, examining her face and touching her dirty hair. She claps her on the ribs, growling a sentence, and grimaces. She touches her hair again, pulling the strands as if she thinks the color is false, with fingers she from rubs and gem with the other hand and finds no pigment.

Raven pulls away, but her grip on her cheeks is like a hawk's claws on her prey.

The lady continues to touch the dress checking her body under the fabric, when she lifts her skirt Raven grimaces and instinctively kicks her to get away, she screams and hits her in the face. The slap is loud and leaves her cheek burning for a few seconds. She takes her face, digging her nails into her chin, yells at the captain who now looks funny, and pushes her away, as if wanting her to get as far away as possible.

"Shaytan," she growls.

Again, what does that mean?

The captain says something, and the woman looks her directly in the eyes, her mouth opens and closes for a few minutes. Finally, she grabs her arm and takes her into the room.

She doesn't have time to think about anything.

Raven screams and tries to get her to release her several times, but she is weak from walking, dehydration, lack of food and sleep, and the woman is much heavier than she is. That does not prevent her from giving up, she does not want to enter that place and she struggles with all her strength to release her. With a little luck she could escape from the city, but the woman whistles and more people are joining to take her inside.

She quickly learns what can happen for not obeying, she spends more than a month between lessons, flower baths and new clothes, she is forced to visit mosques and meet their gods, however, she does not believe that any entity comes to save her. She learns that ´´Shaytan´´ means demon in Arabic, she earns that nickname for her apparent rebellion against the authorities and the attitude that they disapprove of. She also learns that she is in a harem and that they were preparing to serve the demon head.

She shows no interest.

She is not interested in what they have to say about the leader, nor does she want to please him in any way. She has other things to worry about.

She doesn't make friends inside the harem, with every lawsuit that forms around her. Like when they tried to recite a prayer out loud and he refused, or when she escaped through a small window one night and was caught in the middle of the river in a boat. The gossip spread like wildfire and the women moved further away from her side.

A guard chases her everywhere after her frustrated escape attempt.

Raven just wants to go back to her land, she has no interest in satisfying the leader, in looking beautiful to him and ducking her head when it will happen, she doesn't want to be reminded every day that she is inferior and that her life is wrapped around a thread that supports the demon's head. She does not belong to him.

She walks through the local market pretending to be interested in fabrics and spices, she had invented an excuse ´´I need new perfume and more dresses´´ and they believed her, so they gave her a bag of gold coins to spend, while the guard walked behind her.

Out of the corner of her eye is a merchant who works in the port.

On her first getaway, she traded a handful of coins for a small pot but was unsuccessful as he was in plain sight and soon to be made aware of her absence from the harem. The merchant was famous for helping unfortunate political prisoners or lovers to flee. He bought bribes from certain authorities and infiltrated you in such a way that no one had managed to find one of his clients.

She needed to talk to him, with the coins she had she could buy her way back to her country.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she says to the guard.

The man raises his eyebrows and looks away. Raven hides behind a tent and runs away as fast as she can.

The merchant had turned to the right and when she reached him, she pulls him by the clothes so hard that he almost falls off. The man would be in his forties, of course she wouldn't be scared of a nineteen-year-old, but she is with him.

"Ah, it's you." He shakes his robes from the dust.

She gasps looking everywhere "I needed to go."

He raises one of his graying eyebrows. The language is hard on her tongue, not used to talking to others, she needs practice, Raven does not waste time and puts the bag with the coins in his hands, and the merchants feel it, as if with that she could check how much it was worth.

"No. "

What?

"Why not? "

He winces indifferently "It's very little. "

"They are gold coins."

"Listen, I know you want to abandon your life of luxury in the palace, but what I do is not legal and I risk my head every time someone important is taken out of this kingdom" he answers, as if he was explaining a subject to a little boy. "The Demon’s Head is known for his indulgence and does not like his treasures fleeing to other countries" he looks at her from head to toe.

"I don't belong to him," she spits.

"Think what you want." He rolled his eyes. He puts the bag of coins in her hands, and leaves. "Bring more gold or please your lord, shaytan. "

Raven sighs.

***

She is in the harem garden. Sitting reading on the grass regardless of whether she soils her purple dress.

The old Zaira, the director of the harem, had sent them to make different dresses for Raven, since green or gold does not go with her pale skin and would not be attractive to her lord, so they choose purple, red and blue tones. She does not the fabrics as well as the other girls. She doesn't mind getting his clothes dirty.

"I saw him." There is a murmur in the garden. The young concubines gathered among the flowers to chat with their group of friends. Raven is hidden behind a bush where she had buried a book, since she is prohibited from reading anything else that is not authorized by Zaira. "He is very handsome and young" they laugh.

She put her back against the bush wanting to hear better.

"Did he look at you? "

"He was very busy training with one of his instructors" she says, her voice is low and disappointed ", but Zaira told me that the leader has not looked at any concubine" now she sounds more animated. "He has been heavily involved in politics to have time for women. I heard one of the ministers talk about developing a new map. "

"He's so committed," another sighs.

She rolls her eyes.

"We'll dance for him next week," reports one. There is a group gasp. "Zaira confessed to me that the girl who dances best will spend a night with him, in addition to that on that night she will have access to the royal treasure and will make us choose any jewel as a gift."

Jewel?

She remembers the merchant's words; she needs a gem to secure her exit from this harem and palace which is a true nightmare.

He almost visualizes the faces of her friends, her mother tongue in her mouth and the flavors of her tender native.

She needs that gem.

***

"I want to dance. "

Raven stands in front of Zaira, the woman is giving lessons to the young women who would dance for the Demon's Head and she not included in the list.

"Who are you to demand such a thing?" She gives her a contemptuous look. "Why the sudden interest in the Lord? "

She sighs "I want to know how he is. "

A simple answer.

Raven had had experience lying, being a rebel during the revolution. She grew up on the streets, not like these women who came from wealthy families, are the daughters of soldiers and were made with a gold chisel.

"You are lucky, shaytan" with a gesture the young women open leaving a space for her to enter the group. Before she can put herself in her place, Zaira takes her arm, stopping her. "If you weren't so unusual, I would have let you go a long time ago. I did not accept you out of courtesy, but by the lord. If you make one of your numbers, I will personally see to it that you disappear from this palace."

She smiles sweetly at her. "Don't worry. I matured, I am dedicated to faith now and I understood that I owe everything to the Demon’s Head."

During her time as a rebel she was not a lone player, she was happy to surround herself with a group and find others who would fight for the same thing, the common good above all. She did not expect to find her rebels here, maybe if not they will threaten her so much could look at them well.

Zaira released her arm giving him a suspicious look, but she settled with a smile between the concubines and pretended that the woman's words meant nothing. She had managed to become one of the concubines who would dance for the Demon's Head, now she had to get his attention and win that night where he would give her the most expensive jewel that would ensure her exit from this cursed kingdom.

***

When the night came when they would appear in the Demon's Head’s room, the leader would be sitting on a throne with his back to the doors of his room and when he chose one of the concubines everything would stop, the unselected women would return to the harem where they would not go out, unless the selected one was not liked by the leader and that is a humiliation. The selected one would be chosen not only for her beauty, but for her way of dancing and as it pleases the Lord. When she is chosen, she would make her way through the room and announce herself, as tradition dictates.

Raven had been enlisting all day among scented baths, fragrances, worthless little jewels, and elaborate dresses. She decides again with the dressmaker that there wouldn't be a green dress for her, instead she has a blue dress with gold accents and thinks that's enough.

They are not allowed to show their faces, so they emphasize their eyes with black eyeliner, and she thinks she looks like a blue cat.

"We want the color of your eyes to stand out the most," the woman says with a brush.

She did not know why these people are so obsessed with the color of her eyes and her short hair that is dark, it is supposed to be because she are foreign.

When they walk to the hall where the ceremony would take place, she realizes that she is nervous, her hands itch and she feels like a prey in her dress. The color of her dress draws the attention of the other concubines, since they chose colors such as green and the gold that is used by the Demon's Head, not a bright blue.

The interior of the palace is luxurious, with its gleaming floors and gold trim. The air has a scent of essences and incense, distinguishes small lighted bowls whose smoke perfumes the corridors.

"I don't think the Demon's Head is fixed on the French one."

She knows that she is not appreciated within the harem for her behavior, although she had calmed down in the past few days as she is focused on getting that gem. These girls did not have to worry about her, because she would get the jewel and disappear forever, it would be as if she had never arrived.

Doors open and she stiffens.

"Don't raise your head. Don't look him in the eye unless you are selected” Zaira instructs in a harsh voice.

She feels his eyes on her body, and Raven smiles to herself.

When they enter, they form a perfect circle in the center just as they had rehearsed. Raven turns her back on the throne but knows it's there. The musicians are positioned to the side, their instruments in their hands ready for the signal from the Demon's Head, and they begin to play.

She takes the group's hands; they make a round, tracing patterns with their feet to the rhythm of the music. The typical music of these areas is different from that of her land, Zaira had said that her hips were rough, and she needs to balance them to the sound of the songs, it is like holding an instrument only with her hips. It's very strange.

The others follow the choreography without difficulty, but have trouble keeping up and think this is boring.

The same routine: they hold hands, turn, move their feet and hips, make waves with their hands, hold hands, and they would follow the process.

Zaira said that this dance represents femininity and fertility, an act of seduction, but this is tedious and she does not imagine what it is to have to witness one of these dances once a week, it is not surprising that the man had not decided on anyone.

She decides to look up a bit and is surprised by the youth of the demon's head, he would be about twenty years old, golden skin and green eyes. He had on a jade green robe that revealed a muscular torso, high black pants and there is a ring with a large diamond on his index finger.

He is not even looking; he is concentrating on his sword listening to Zaira who probably talks to him about the concubines because of the way her head glances at each one.

The Demon's Head is a handsome and rich man, with a ring on his finger, if she earned it she would have her ticket paid to her land.

Compared to these girls, she had nothing to lose.

She leaves the dance, the musicians freeze, the concubines stop and look down, Zaira is red with anger and her teeth clench so hard that she is sure to have some chipped teeth.

The leader leans forward following her movements, carrying a sword in his hand that he is not using, so she does not think he considers her as a threat. He looks impartial, his expression is blank, and it is difficult for Raven to know what he is thinking, perhaps he does not consider her prank so funny. There is no way back.

Raven positions herself in front of the concubines, bows her head in reverence, and walks back with her head down; the other women make way for her and step aside. She can feel her anger up to here.

The musicians begin to play a different, softer tune and try to follow her. She is not good at moving her hips like the natives, but she knows her own charm and tries to show it. She raises her arms allowing her wide sleeves to reveal skin up to her elbows.

It is forbidden to show skin.

The harem director is scandalized.

She turns and takes off her shoes, leaving her feet bare. She does not know where she gets so much daring, especially in the face of a society as conservative as that of Nanda Parbat, but the man in front of her has been in battles, contemplating deaths and his army is known as the league of assassins, it´s not like he is a saint.

Her dress had an opening, it is almost invisible, it would only reveal up to the knees, she knows that Zaira has not seen it and it reveals the skin of her leg almost by accident. She is aware that her features are strange, people whispering for her pale tone and servants would try to make her take on a more attractive shade sunbathing, but it has not worked and she does not look cute when the sun hurts her skin giving it a red tone, like a shrimp.

One of the musicians drops his instrument and has to run to pick it up.

He still hadn't killed her or screamed for her daring, that's good.

She raises her eyes, sees how an eyebrow rises when their gazes intertwine, and she has never seen a more beautiful and masculine face like his. Tradition says that concubines should wear veils that cover their hair, face and waist, but they had already broken a rule, why not two?

She had been a rebel in her country, here too.

She takes out the scarf that she keeps around her waist, caresses her face with the fabric, as well as her torso until she reaches her waist, he remains as neutral as ever, but follows the path of the scarf and it is a good sign. She smiles under the scarf that covers her nose and mouth; it is a true smile.

She approaches turning to where the leader is, the handkerchief in her hands flies and moves her hips, letting him see her bare feet and legs, crouches back in strides allowing him to see her cleavage and now he gulps.

Her hair is tied under a veil in a transparent blue shade, she caresses her hair looking at the man directly in the eyes, her hands go down her collarbone, between her breasts and her stomach.

Raven smiles at him as one of her hands quickly goes up to her face cupping her left cheek. She feels the evil, mischief and lust within her intertwined in this dance, it's like a statement.

When the music ends, she is sitting on the floor bowing with a smile on her face. She is tired, but something inside her jumps with happiness to get his attention, she thinks it would be fun to see how far this man would let her go.

"Who are you? "

She feels the tension in his voice and closes her eyes tight. Shit, maybe she was wrong, and her breach of tradition was stronger than she thought.

"She is a foreigner, sir. I'll get her out of here, if ... "

"Did I ask you, Zaira?" He interrupts her.

Raven sighs.

"I asked you a question." Raven shuddered at the harsh sound in the man's voice. "Look me in the eye when I speak to you. "

She looks up, their eyes meet, and she feels a tug in her insides, he probably also felt it because the man recoils a few inches on his throne. Perhaps the maid who had made her up was right and her eyes did stand out through the makeup, it makes her look mysterious and more feline.

She remembers that even with the cold tone of this man, he is still the one who followed the path of the scarf over her figure.

"They call me shaytan, my lord."

"That can't be your real name."

"I have abandoned my old name. Embraced the customs of Nanda Parbat along with my new name."

Zaira shakes her head and narrows her eyes in her direction.

A smile formed on the lips of the Demon's Head "You were noticed when you interrupted the dance of the concubines. Did you know that it is a tradition that takes more than a hundred years? "

The concubines exchanged a look of alert, since the leader had not given them a sideways glance and is conversing with the foreigner.

"I thought you needed entertainment, my lord." She trailed off the nickname justifying the accent and her intermediate command of Arabic. The Demon's Head realized.

The leader observed Zaira and whispered something in her ear, the woman grimaced in disgust and ordered those present to leave.

What did this mean?

Raven looked down again, as the room emptied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the concubines open their eyes in surprise, some of them trying to hide their anger and glancing hatefully towards her.

Zaira grimaces, just by seeing her she can see the promise of revenge in her eyes.

The room was completely empty.

Had she succeeded?

She was chosen?

The Demon's Head stood up, the sword is now in its scabbard, and his green cloak rippled through the air as it followed. He opens the doors behind the throne, they lead to a dark room whose only lights are lighted metal fountains, a polished wood floor, the windows are open. She has a view of the entire kingdom that is represented in small lights, there is a bed in the center of the room and small furniture where there is a pile of parchments in different positions.

Sheets hang from the ceiling, swaying to the rhythm of the warm wind. Where they come from, they would not think of having the windows open day and night, since it was always very cold.

The room is beautiful.

"Come in," he orders.

Now his voice has a boring note, as if he had experienced this before and had the predicted ending. Raven's life was never fun, she had a difficult childhood with an abusive father and ran away when she was just a girl. Preferring to live on the streets where she found friends, she had a reason to fight and now she is here in front of a ruler; but his life was written in stone, marked by traditions and customs. What a disappointing life.

He sits on the edge of the bed and leaves the sword on a piece of furniture.

"Take off your veils and clothes."

Is this what this would be like?

Raven is not someone with a sex life as active as Richard or Kory, she had had a short list of loves that had not led to anything important, however, she was not supposed to start a sexual relationship this way. She wonders how little fun this relationship must have been for this man; she surely has a protocol to follow when it comes to these things and she thinks it's horrible.

Not that she is an expert, in fact her experience is limited.

He is now looking at her, as if she had no objections. Raven raises a hand to the scarf that covers her hair, but her hands get tangled and it's a lie.

"I can't take off my scarf."

She realizes that she is nervous, but still needs to make a good impression and leave him so happy that he would guarantee a gem.

Pretend a face of innocence "Can you help me, my lord? "

He sighs and gestures for her to come closer. Raven listens to him, but does not do exactly what he wants, but turns her back on him.

"Are you making fun of me?" He says, undoing the scarf over his hair, there is still one more that covers half her face.

"I never would, my lord."

But he is laughing.

His hands are warm, and he stays longer than necessary at the nape of her neck and traces a path to the clavicle and down to her chest. No one had ever touched her like this, as if she were something soft, and she sighed under his hands, stopping the rapid advance, took his hands stopping him on purpose and gave him a kiss on the palm.

Not yet.

He freezes.

Raven turns around, looks him directly in the eye. His eyes are green like jade, it looks like river water or the color of moss that is born from humidity.

She runs a hand through her hair, her short hair caresses her shoulders and one of her hands buries her buds feeling the texture and the smell of flowers they used to bathe her.

"I've never seen hair this color before," he whispers. He caresses her hair feeling the softness, he looks into her eyes, his eyes are deep, and they leave her breathless. "Where did you come from, shaytan? "

A malicious smile springs from her lips. The protocol of visits to the demon's head had been explained to her, only he could touch and ask to be pleased, the concubine existed to give pleasure, not to receive it.

"Perhaps from a nightmare, sir," she replies.

Raven caresses her chest, feels his bare skin, it’s covered with small scars and tenses when there is skin-to-skin contact, but he doesn't push away. He’s warm, just as she expected, and her thumb traces a scar across his ribs, he gasps and stands up.

"You don't look like a nightmare."

"Oh, I can teach you what I can do, and it will change your mind," she replies. With the back of her hand, she runs through his muscles until it sits on the clavicle, where she traces the protruding bone and notices the scars.

The Demon's Head does nothing.

She thinks she has done something wrong, that he would kick her out, but instead he just looks at her.

He is taller than she, he has a tall head and has to tilt his head to look her in the eye. Violet meets green, Raven could drown in his eyes and die, suddenly she is afraid of being rejected, because he will call someone else and live thinking about what she might have.

He advances, his hands traveling to the veil that covers her nose and mouth, a small dagger in his hand breaks the fabric with agility and it falls to the ground.

He gasps when he looks at her face.

He looks without fabrics to separate them for the first time and Raven feels like they've gotten rid of a wall. Her hands tremble at the sides of her body, her legs are two branches shaken by the wind and the heat settles at the base of the stomach, it is like fire and she doesn't mind burning herself.

He looks like a statue, static, but she feels how his eyes make her feverish, she imagines herself touching and how the most powerful man in the Middle East melts under her palms; she is sure that he is thinking the same. Zaira's voice is strong in her head:

If he chooses you, I don't think so, shaytan. You are not allowed to take the first step, the head of the devil as the supreme leader of your life and the empire must be who determines what the act will be like. No games.

They endorse each other, when their lips meet it is an uncomfortable kiss because it is a collapse of teeth and a fight for whoever has control over the other's lips, and they cannot find a position that accommodates them, but soon he tilts his head and it is much more functional. His hands are all over the place, he touches her torso through the corset, her waist and hip to her rear where his hands stop.

Raven gasps loudly, letting the sound sweep through the room without worrying about being heard; He runs his hands over her torso enjoying the firm skin under the pads of his fingers and runs a hand down her smooth back through the fabric. Sure, the cloth is there and it's annoying, she has to take it off. He throws the robe to the ground without caring about how he does it, the fabric falls apart into threads, leaving half torn in place.

He is kissing her hard and Raven laces his hands around her neck to help wrap her legs around his torso. The openings in the dress don't allow her to do this, but he slides a dagger to break the skirt and ends with two slits down to the hips.

Raven laughs against his mouth, but quickly stops doing it as he shifts his attention to her neck, placing butterfly kisses on her skin until he goes down to her collarbone and is too excited to feel anything else.

Sighs.

He tightens her hair, and feels her tense, now he runs his tongue over her neck to her ear. Raven writhes like a worm.

To punish him she pushes her hips against the base of his stomach, dangerously close to his crotch. The man now stops and watches her, as if she had done something very wrong.

The burning fire plays with his face and Raven gives him a look of innocence deciding to ignore his erection through his pants. This is the same man who had observed her with a neutral face while dancing.

There is a knife in his hands, and he is tearing the dress. The knife comes down through the ribbons on her back and the corset is out, left in a plain dress that falls square in a pale blue hue.

"You destroyed a dressmaker's job, sir," but she's already raising her arms for him to take off her dress.

He has a better idea because he draws her to his body, wraps his arms around her waist, and his hands intertwine at the start of her butt.

"I'll have another one made for you." He kisses her so hard she leans back.

There is a smile on her lips. In her life she has seen beautiful men, she can sit down to contemplate some faces and bodies, but this man is on another level, it seems that he was made by an angel who wants to replicate the most beautiful thing he has seen in an individual.

"Anyway, they did me to take it away from you."

The next time they meet they are slower but want to touch each other. Raven lets him have her entire body exposed like no other man in her life, he may have a kingdom, but her resides within these four walls.

In the tradition it is dictated that the man should always be on top, it is not allowed that the woman is the one who rode him, but they experience everything, and they do not care about customs.

He squeezes her breasts and Raven sighs increasing speed. She would kiss him hard, biting and finding his tongue, the Demon's Head looks like a moldable object under her hands and it's fun, but she’s also slipping.

She gives herself to him and if he asked her for anything, she would do it without thinking.

"Called me Damian," he confesses between kisses, when they are exhausted and sweat drips down their bodies. His chest rises and falls in heavy breaths. "That's my name. "

She looks at him askance. Her body is sore, she is sure she has more than love bite on her neck, stomach and breasts, her hair is a sweaty mess, she cannot even brush it with her fingers due to the number of knots, she feels irritation on her thigh where He had bitten her, it would leave a scar, and her lips are swollen and aching.

"So, you're not called Demon Head, Damian?" mocks.

He clicks his tongue and winces when he turns to look at her. A sheet covers part of his body, but he is naked; looking at his sculpted torso there are scratches, bites and bruises, she does not want to see the chaos that is his back.

Did she do that?

"What about you, Shaytan?"

She grimaces as she looks out, the mountain range looms in the distance and the lights of the kingdom are dimming, welcoming a new dawn.

"I had it somewhere else," she sighs. "When I lived on my land, I had a name, but I discarded it. Now I don't know what to think. "

She drops onto the bed, the mattress is soft, and the sheets are made of a delicate material, it's like butter. Her head does not touch the pillows, the bed is too big for two people to cover the entire space, she is sure that it is made for him, he will invite more than one lover to his rooms.

She wonders how many people have touched him the way she had.

It is now her life, dancing and trying to attract the attention of a man who has at his disposal a multitude of lovers. Maybe she had enjoyed it so much that she held on too soon.

"Do you want me to keep calling you Shaytan?"

She looked at the ceiling. The bed has a ceiling made of carved wood covered by fabrics in golden patterns that fall down the sides, just like the veil that he had torn from her face with his dagger.

Maybe if he hadn't been so permissive with her ...

Could she answer a name nicknamed by others for your attitude?

"They call me Raven," she confesses. Her voice is monotonous, devoid of all humor, and in the bed of the leader of the nation who had ripped her from her land, she realizes that perhaps she had not completely left her name, but she is still a demon. "Can we keep it as our secret, sir? " She watches him.

He focuses his gaze on the ceiling, meditates for a few minutes, and nods.

Raven smiles.

She takes the sheet from him and rises from the bed muttering a complaint about the pain in a certain area, and searches the floor for her clothes, but finds her dress cut. She is not willing to walk to the harem in a torn, dirty and stained dress.

"Where are you going? "

She looks at him.

When she sees him, she thinks that maybe they were too abrupt, since Damian's eyes are swollen and red, as well as his mouth and scratches on his arms, red marks on his neck and torso, as well as pieces of cloth on the bed.

"Isn't it just for one night?" The question. Zaira told her that the selected one would only stay one night with the demon's head, and after a time she would be called, only if she pleased her lord.

"Stay another day."

Raven contemplates the idea, has no objection.

"I have no clothes."

"You don't need them."

Okay, so maybe she could get used to this faster than she thinks.

You're giving me chills at a hundred degrees

Calling your name, the only language I can speak

(FanFiction soon)

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 33

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

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

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

MASTERLIST

Chapter 33: The End of the Committee

PLEASE LOOK AT THE POSTERS I MADE FOR THIS STORY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They left you alone with Kylo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Are You a Good Citizen? (1949)

Law and Social Controls (1949)

School Rules

Improve Your Personality (1951)

Everyday Manners

Right or Wrong

How to Keep a Job (1949)

You and Your Work (1948)

Personality and Emotions (1954 )

Habit Patterns (1954)

Obligations (1950)

The Procrastinator (1952)

Wastage of Human Resources

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[benperorsolo]

How long do you think this “Kylo wasn’t actually redeemed” discourse is going to last? Do you think it would have been any different if TRoS had been written better or executed Bendemption better?

Until the end of time. The problem isn’t in the story; it’s in the culture. 

If there is anything I’ve learned in the four years I’ve spent thinking a lot about redemption, and atonement, and forgiveness, and what it means to be redeemed in fiction and theologically in real life, I think it’s that this obsession with policing redemption and/or wholly rejecting it as a possibility beyond some random event horizon (except, of course, for the “good” victims who don’t actually need redemption, like Finn) is reflective of something very sick in the culture.

I very rarely say that “if you like x you’re like y in real life”, but I do think your interpretation of what fiction means to you and what value judgements you attach to what you think an author is saying are indicative of real life values. People who hate redemption as a concept, or who police it to mean “you stole a banana from Safeway”, really are saying something about their real-life relationship to the concept of redemption. They don’t hide that their commentary is meant to be prescriptive for real life values they think SW is “promoting” (having basic compassion for others, gasp). And 99.9% of the time, these people in real life are bitter, unforgiving, and cold, if not outright harassers. 

You’re not going to reach the people who think Ben wasn’t redeemed through logic or argumentation or fighting because you are fighting against people who, simply put, are philosophically opposed to what you believe. It isn’t about the text because the text is obvious, and everyone who wants to see it –like the film critics– have. Hell, there is even a literal line saying, “Kylo Ren is dead,” which is way more textually explicit than Anakin ever got.

The arguments for redemption that I tend to see are not based at all on the logic of SW and how SW itself deals with and defines redemption, but are based on people’s beliefs in real-world ethics. This is where we get Space Geneva Conventions, and firing squads, and “if you kill a single person then you’re evil” (a thing I saw today on twitter, kid you not). People are engaging in this story not mythically or metaphorically, but literally, as if it were an allegory for real life– and on top of that, their opinions on the real world are…well, frankly also disturbing (as though in the real world restorative justice isn’t a thing and retributive justice is all there is).

Because the fact of the matter is, that since 1983, SW has based its redemption framework on the notion that one good deed is enough, because ethics is about the state of your soul. The Force, which also represents and dictates morality in the GFFA, is life and Feeling. It’s quite literally your emotions which fuel the Force. Your emotions to cause harm and to hate put you on the path of the dark side, and your emotions to stop causing harm and to love put you on the path of the light. It’s entirely about the state of your soul, which is why single acts are enough to indicate redemption–  they’re symbolic of the redemption, not the currency of it. 

It’s not really about Anakin killing Palpatine or Ben giving his life for Rey’s which “redeems” them, because the lives they’ve taken cannot be replaced in this way anyway. Redemption isn’t transactional; it’s transformational. Your attitude towards the higher power (the Force) is what either aligns you with it (redemption) or not. This has all been super textual and super obvious since Anakin was redeemed. It was only recently, of course, that people started goalpost moving and saying that Well, Actually Anakin wasn’t redeemed either– of course because they started seeing the writing on the wall about Ben’s redemption. These are people who already see what they want to see, and no amount of good writing is going to change it.

I’m Christian, and so redemption is a huge part of my real-life ethical landscape. It’s a concept that is inherent to the religion and to the actual, real beliefs of millions of people across thousands of years of time. This is an argument people have been having for literally millenia. In a way this ugly response to redemption by so many people doesn’t surprise me because I’ve seen it happen way before Star Wars entered the cultural sphere again and became the medium through which people were discussing this concept. The “antis”, as it were, predate Ben. He only inherited them for a little while, until some other poor character picks them up.

[the-silvr-speedster]

The Totally Crazy Adventures of the Astro Ambassadors

After they return from their six-month mission in space, Daisy, Daniel and Kora want just a bit of peace and quiet before they are shipped off on another space adventure. But Mack has other plans for them since they are needed for one more short mission. However, things might not go according to plan and without the extraction team, they have to rely on a teleporting device they've never used before.

Chapter 1: Just One More Adventure on AO3 or tumblr

Chapter 2: Welcome to Berhert on AO3 or here ↓

Hey guys! I hope you had a nice week. As promised, here is a chapter 2 of my story. Sorry for any mistakes.

I hope you like it. 

It was over sooner than she thought. When the light around them dissipated they were met by a lush green flora surrounding a small square in front of a…palace? Daisy wasn’t sure. The building was definitely huge but it wasn’t overly fancy.

“Welcome to Berhert,” Adlynn said with a friendly smile.

“I will see you to the meeting chamber where you will be joined by the Princess and some of her most trusted advisers,” Brodin informed them and led the way into the palace.

The three agents were looking around with wide eyes drinking in everything around them as they walked down the halls. Daisy also noted the number and positioning of the guards as they passed them on their way.

“Everything is so green,” Kora mumbled quietly. “They have plants everywhere.”

When they reached the meeting chamber, Daisy realized they lost Adlynn somewhere along the way. What a pity. She was starting to like her.

“Please wait here. Princess Daydra will join you shortly,” Brodin instructed them, offering them seats at the table, and then he left.

The trio sat down, Daniel by Daisy’s right hand and Kora by her left, as they looked around the chamber.

“What are we gonna say if they ask about our experiences with other timelines?” Daniel asked, furrowing his eyebrows in thought.

Daisy let out a long sigh. She wasn’t really sure about what to say and what to keep to themselves. Some people might be against time travel or meddling with a timestream. There were two people sitting next to her, people she loved dearly, that were taken out of their respective time period and she didn’t want to risk their lives by revealing too much in case Sagittarians would be enraged by such bold actions.

“I think…I think we could mention our time traveling missions,” she said at last, “but I don’t think it would be a good idea to mention that you two are actually from another time…or timeline for that matter.”

“Alright,” Daniel muttered giving Daisy’s fingers a gentle squeeze.

“How long will the meeting last?” Kora mumbled with her head placed on her folded arms on the table.

“You are always asking the same question, Kora.” Daisy said with an eye-roll. “How am I supposed to know that, I’m not a clairvoyant.”

“I just want to go back to bed,” she whined.

“Did you have a company in it or what? Surely you have to have enough sleep after four days off,” Daisy looked at her sister with interest.

“Just three days off. We spent nearly one whole day being debriefed by Mack and getting the reports ready,” she complained.

“Whatever. You are evading my earlier question? Did you have a company?” Daisy asked her again with a teasing grin and a raised eyebrow.

Kora mumbled something incoherently into her arm.

“What was that?” Daisy demanded, moving closer, her smile growing bigger.

But before she could actually get any coherent answer out of her, they were interrupted by the arrival of four Sagittarians. These were dressed differently from the members of the Royal Guard. Their clothes were more formal. The small group consisted of two men and two women. They remained standing in the doorway without a word of acknowledgment towards the three humans.

Daisy stood up, Daniel and Kora following suit, and was already contemplating speaking to them when a fifth Sagittarian entered the chamber, closely followed by Captain Brodin. This one was dressed in something one could only describe as a dress combined with an armor. Her black locks were falling freely almost to her waist in deep contrast to the fabric of the dress that was of red color. It made her look…royal. There was just one little thing that shocked all three agents. The woman wearing that dress.

“I am truly sorry for the little lie,” she told them while beckoning the rest of the group to have a seat at the table. “I just really wanted to have a peek at your world before we took you to ours.”

“So, I guess your name isn’t Adlynn,” Daisy commented, already knowing the answer.

“No, it is not. I am Princess Daydra. But Adlynn really is Captain Brodin’s second-in-command. I just borrowed her identity for a little while,” the princess explained with a welcoming smile. “Anyway, these are my advisers, Tobis, Desmon,” she motioned her hand towards both male advisers, then moving to the females, “Anahi and Thalira.”

All four of them nodded in greeting before sitting down at the table just across from Daisy, Daniel and Kora. The Princess took a seat in the middle of her advisers and motioned for the humans to sit down, too.

“I have to apologize one more time for not letting you land on our planet the other week. As I said, there was a misunderstanding. The military controlling the landing docks made that decision, not me. They forgot to let me know about your request to land and talk about an alliance,” Daydra explained with a hint of frustration.

Daisy shared a quick look with Daniel. Could it be that Daydra’s uncle made that decision? Did he not want her to meet up with them?

“We understand that…things like that can happen,” Daisy replied cautiously.

“So,” Daydra sighed contently dismissing the subject, “having that resolved, I think we can move to the discussion of our potential alliance. And, of course, our servants will get you anything to drink.”

As on cue, two servants stepped into the room and placed three glasses in front of the agents.

“Water?” Asked one of them.

“Yes, please,” Daniel said and the servants poured the liquid into their glasses. Then they moved to the other side of the table to offer the same for the advisers and the princess.

“With that out of the way,” the Princess announced, “let’s talk.

   ⁂

The meeting was going on for hours. They talked about so many subjects. The Princess was very interested in learning more about humans as well as the trio of humans was interested in Sagittarians. “What is Terra like?” “How many planets belong to your empire?” “For how long have you been exploring space?” “No offense, but does all men have a fin on their head?” (“Kora no!” “It’s alright to be curious. And yes, they do.”) They asked about technology, history, science, religion, politics, and then they slowly shared parts of their own stories, encounters with other alien races, and shared dislike towards some of them. They discussed time travel and multiple timelines or dimensions. With every passing minute, the alliance was becoming more and more real. All three humans warmed up towards the Princess as well as she and her advisers towards the humans.

“Which aliens had Terra the most problems with?” Daydra asked curiously.

“I would say that with the Kree,” Daisy replied, and tried to ignore the shiver that ran along her spine at the mention of them.

“The Kree like to cause problems,” the Princess sighed, “or wars. They even like to meddle with the internal politics of other empires.”

“To destabilize them?” Daniel joined in.

“Mostly. Their spies are very well trained. Sometimes it’s hard to tell whether the person in question is one of your own…or them,” Daydra muttered, a dark look crossing her eyes for a fragment of time but Daniel didn’t miss it.

“Seems like you are talking from an experience,” he commented, leaning forward in his seat.

“Terra is not the only planet that has an issue with them. But let’s move on some lighter topics,” she dismissed the ongoing conversation quickly.

Daniel realized that there has to be more to that. Whatever issue they had with the Kree, it might have been bigger than what Daisy and the team had to deal with in the past. And for some reason, Daydra didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to ask more because they were about to become allies, therefore they needed to know more about the potential threats. If there was a possibility that their alliance could bring bigger problems with the Kree Empire to Earth, they had the right to know. He was just about to voice his concerns when the door into the meeting chamber flew open and another Sagittarian stormed into the room.

“What is this?!” He yelled unhappily, filling the room with nervous energy.

“Oh, hello to you too, uncle,” Daydra said casually, not even bothering to look his way. “We are just discussing the alliance between us and Terra with their emissaries from S.H.I.E.L.D. You certainly remember them. They stopped by over a week ago.”

“Why wasn’t I informed!” His voice rumbled through the air.

“Why should you be? You are not a leader of this empire. I am,” the princess finally looked at him with authority. “And you weren’t interested in hearing them out last time.”

Daniel shared a nervous glance with Daisy. So that was the ‘misunderstanding’ Daydra was referring to. Her uncle wanted nothing to do with them so he refused to let them land since the military is controlling the landing docks.

“Because I know they have nothing to offer us. They are just a nuisance that brings more problems. Just look at how many threats their planet received in the past years,” he kept talking angrily. Then he suddenly shifted his tone to a curious one. “So small, so insignificant, and yet a target of beings that are far more superior than them. I wonder, what makes them so special.”

Daniel caught how Daisy’s hand grabbed Kora’s under the table as it was starting to glow and whispered to her: “No.”

“They are far more advanced than we thought, uncle. Since you are already here, you may as well join us and see for yourself. But we are making the alliance official,” Daydra informed him sternly.

The man grumbled something angrily under his breath, pulled a chair from under the table and sat down, an unhappy scowl remaining on his face.

“Sorry,” Daydra said towards the agents. “Now, where were we?” She paused for a second, thinking. “Oh, right. I wanted to ask- “

“I heard a rumor,” Daydra’s uncle cut her off rudely, his gaze fixed on his hands. “A rumor about Terrans with superpowers. I thought that must be someone’s drunken fantasy, but…,” he paused and looked straight towards Daisy, “…is it, really?”

Daniel gulped and curled his hand into a fist under the table. He knew he wasn’t feeling anxious about this mission just for nothing.

“It’s true,” Daisy answered matter-of-factly, still holding Kora’s hand.

The advisers started to talk over each other in surprise, worry and excitement. Daydra’s uncle sneered, clearly satisfied. ‘Rumor my ass, he already knew about it,’ Daniel thought.

“Quiet!” The Princess ordered. “So, you really have super-powered individuals. How many?”

“Uh, we don’t know. Some people are just genius inventors and billionaires, some underwent an experimentative treatment, some were in an accident involving a radioactive substance whether it was man-made or alien…and for some…it’s genetic,” Daisy exhaled, trying hard to keep her voice neutral. “One way or another it is hard to know how many powered individuals we have.”

“That is interesting,” Daydra said carefully, “and exciting. Wow. Such a small planet with so much potential.”

“Yeah, the bad guys figured that out, too,” Daisy mumbled grumpily.

“So, Quake is really a Terran?” The Princess asked, leaning forward on her elbows. “I heard some stories but I know better than to believe everything I hear. Mainly when I don’t trust the source,” she added pointedly.

Daisy looked at Daniel anxiously and he moved his hand to grab hers, anchoring her.

“Yes,” she said moving her gaze towards Daydra, “Quake is from Earth.” Daisy paused, deciding what to say next. “As you can see, we are not so…insignificant.” She looked at Daydra’s uncle for a lingering moment.

“I heard Quake is quite dangerous,” he kept looking back at Daisy with an interest and knowing grin.

“Only when provoked,” Daisy let him know with a glare. Daniel smiled proudly.

“I think she’s cool,” Daydra spoke up and everyone turned to her questioningly. She just shrugged. “Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, I believe I wanted to ask which alien race did help Terra the most? Who are your best allies?”

“Probably Asgardians. Thor is a part of a group called the Avengers. They consist of different people…powered or not. They protect the Earth as well as S.H.I.E.L.D. does,” Daisy explained. “He helped us a lot and everyone loves him. That’s why we let them all stay after Asgard got destroyed.”

“Huh, so Asgardians now reside on Terra. Interesting,” the Princess said, lost in thought.

When it seemed like no one is going to say anything, Daniel decided to change the subject. “Uhm, the director was really interested in that teleporting device of yours. Could you maybe tell us more about it?”

“Ah! The interstellar and interdimensional teleportation device! That’s really something, isn’t it,” Daydra’s uncle joined the conversation enthusiastically.

Daniel could see how Daydra shot her uncle a warning glare which he seemed to completely ignore and continued, smiling triumphantly.

“Did you know that we hadn’t actually come up with the technology of it? No?” He asked with a raised eyebrow like he was expecting an answer. But he wasn’t, not really. “That is a great story to tell, isn’t it, my dear Daydra?”

“What are you doing?” She demanded keeping her voice level.

“Entertaining our dear guests,” he told her before his focus shifted to the three humans in front of him. “The device is modeled after a really old artifact that somehow came into our possession hundreds of years ago. It was Asgardian,” he whispered mysteriously like he just revealed some huge secret.

The agents shared a surprised look.

“It took us years to understand at least a bit of how it worked and when we did- “

“You stole their tech,” Kora spoke up, cutting him off. Some of the advisers seemed offended by the accusation.

“Which a friend of ours did, too,” Daisy tried to save the situation, looking from Kora to the Princess. “Honestly, we wouldn’t be able to travel through space if we didn’t get our hands on the jump drive from a crashed Confederacy ship. Our scientist then created his own version after he found out how it worked.”

“But Confederacy was destroyed by Chronicoms, right? And the jump drive is the most used tech in the universe for crossing long distances between planets. There’s no harm done in salvaging something from a crashed spaceship,” Kora tried to explain the difference. “Asgardians are still out there and they lost everything. Their planet, their friends and families, their homes, their tech. When they arrived on Earth, their only belongings were the clothes they were currently wearing,” she paused for a moment studying her hands. “I…I know how that feels…and now you say that you have something that belongs to them.”

“We didn’t steal it, Agent Kora,” Daydra was defending their past actions. “We came across it by accident.”

“Maybe, but you had it in your possession for hundreds of years and have never returned it,” Kora pointed out. “That…doesn’t sit well with me.”

Daniel could see the reasoning behind her words.

“And you were withholding the fact that you have powered individuals,” one of the advisers, Tobis, protested. “That does not sit well with us.”

“We would get to that point and tell you,” Daisy said, trying to remain calm.

“Really? Would you?” Daydra’s uncle asked doubtfully. “Then why haven’t you revealed your full identity, Quake?”

At that moment the advisers started to shout over each other in frustration and outrage. Daniel tensed up, looking at Daisy and Kora in alarm, getting ready to bolt if Daisy decided to do so. Then he was hit by a dark thought – they have no way to get off this planet if things go south. Sagittarians brought them here and only they can bring them back to Earth. This was a really stupid idea.

“How did it go this bad this fast?” Daisy mumbled, mostly to herself.

The Princess was trying to calm her advisers down but at that point, it wasn’t very likely. Her uncle on the other hand looked like he was enjoying the scene before him. Leisurely seated in his chair, he wasn’t doing enough to hide that satisfied grin on his face. Daniel was sure he was planning to disrupt the meeting and destroy the chance of alliance from the beginning.

“This,” his voice boomed in the chamber as he stood up, “is exactly what I’ve been telling you all along. My niece is not a good leader to our people. Just look at her reckless decisions. Allying us with Terrans? People, who can’t even be honest and who send a weapon of mass destruction on a diplomatic visit!”

“I beg your pardon!” Daisy raised her voice, offended.

“Augus is right!” Desmon called, hitting his fist into the table with force.

“No, he isn’t! This is what he always wanted. To turn our back on Daydra. He’s manipulating us!” Thalira tried to reason with him.

“But he has a point!” Anahi joined in.

“We can’t ally with Terrans!” Tobis spoke up angrily.

“No. No, we can’t. And we can’t let them leave, either. You told them too much,” Daydra’s uncle, Augus, declared.

“Is this a good time to start to panic?” Kora muttered quietly, leaning towards Daisy.

“We have no way to get out of here,” Daniel informed them, his brain running a hundred miles per hour trying to find a solution.

Daisy stood up and so did her two companions. She was staring at something behind the arguing group of Sagittarians. Daydra was talking to Captain Brodin hurriedly, clearly giving him some orders. A minute later he disappeared quietly through the door and she sent a small nod of reassurance towards the three humans.

“Will you really listen to him? The one who is secretly teaming up with our enemies just to have his way?” Daydra spoke to her advisers urgently, before looking over to her uncle. “Did you really think I won’t find out? After all those years?”

“I really didn’t want to be caught in the middle of this,” Daisy groaned, but stayed on high alert, waiting for any signal from the Princess.

“Tell me, uncle, what did the Kree promise you?”

But Augus just sneered at his niece. Then the doors burst open. Ten Sagittarian soldiers marched in and took their place at Augus’s side, waiting for his orders. The trio of agents took a small step back, calculating their chance at getting out of this.

“That doesn’t matter because they will give me even more when I deliver them Quake,” he revealed, sending a quick look towards Daisy. “They have some kind of obsession with her.”

Daniel looked worriedly at her, fighting with his instinct to shield her from danger. She can take care of herself and he would be just getting in her way. But he couldn’t miss the way she paled for a brief second at the mention of Kree.

“What gives you the impression you are going to catch me?” Daisy remarked with a self-conscious smile.

Few things happened in a span of seconds. Augus, with his lopsided grin, motioned for his soldiers to arrest the humans. The side doors flew open. The soldiers started to march towards Daisy, Daniel and Kora. Daisy raised her hand ready to quake them away. Captain Brodin and some of the royal guard came running into the chamber. The three agents finally received a signal from Daydra, who mouthed “run”.

They ran towards the side door where they were met by the Princess and the Captain.

“Follow us,” Daydra spoke and darted through the door. They complied without a second thought, being followed by Captain Brodin, who left his men to deal with the soldiers. However, they didn’t run far. When they turned the corner of the first corridor, they were met by another five soldiers. They immediately raised their guns at the group but didn’t get the chance to fire. Before their fingers pulled the trigger, they were hit by Daisy’s quake which left them flying into a wall.

Daydra turned around to look at Daisy, her mouth open in surprise, and a look of admiration in her eyes. “I really am a fan,” she said.

“Thanks,” Daisy replied with a smile. “So, what now?”

Daydra just motioned to follow her and started down the corridor.

“We are gonna get you home,” she said after a moment of walking. “We can deal with them. I have far more people on my side than my uncle has. I was kind of expecting him to stab me into the back, sooner or later.”

“I don’t want to doubt your decision, but we can help you,” Daisy offered as they neared another corner.

“We can handle this. I still want the alliance between us to happen, so I need you to get home safely,” the Princess paused, cautiously looking around the corner,” so we can discuss it again when things calm down.”

Daisy wanted to protest more but was distracted by a loud banging of boots on the floor of the corridor. She turned around so fast she almost got whiplash. There were almost twenty soldiers coming their way. Kora crouched down, sending a wave of fire along the floor. After the first four soldiers caught ablaze, Daisy sent a quake that knocked another eight. It was like bowling. But in this case, the cones were being replaced by the new ones more quickly as other soldiers poured towards them.

“We’ll hold them off!” Daydra announced readying her gun and checking her daggers. “Go!”

“There’s too much of them,” Daisy protested and caught a movement coming from another corridor. Two guards were coming to help them.

“I mean it, go! Straight ahead, the second corridor to the left,” she paused as she fired at incoming soldiers, while Kora set another two on fire, “and fifth door to the right. You won’t miss it. It’s double doors. When you get there take the teleporting device, it will get you home,” she continued and when Captain and the guards attacked the soldiers, she pulled the agents aside to give them specific instructions how to operate the device. “Good luck,” and with that, she readied her gun again and turned the corner.

Daisy, Daniel and Kora sprinted down the corridor in search of the device. They turned the corner of the second corridor as Daydra told them but as they reached the door four soldiers emerged at the end of the hall.

“Was it the fifth door on the right or the left side?” Daniel asked hurriedly.

“She said it was double doors,” Daisy said as she dismantled the guns of the soldiers with her powers.

“Well, there are two double doors on opposite sides,” Kora observed. “I think it was the left side.”

“Well, it better be ‘cause we won’t reach the other one,” Daisy muttered, seeing as more soldiers joined the fight.

“We are surrounded,” Daniel informed them. “They had to know we’ll come this way.”

Daisy opened the double doors and all three of them stormed inside the room. Daniel closed them quickly as Daisy and Kora hauled a table to block it. Daniel found a metal rod and put it through the handles.

“That’s not gonna hold them for long,” Kora said. “I have an idea.” She jumped on the table and proceeded to melt the door wings together.

“Kora that won’t help. There’s glass in the door. They can break through,” Daisy told her, trying to catch her breath.

“Right,” Kora mumbled sheepishly.

Meanwhile, Daniel inspected the room they found themselves in. It looked almost like some sort of a lab. But it was too clean like it wasn’t used in many years. No tools lying around or anything, really. At the other end of the room, just over one of the workstations was another sliding glass door. He was startled from his thoughts by loud banging on the door behind him.

“We don’t have much time,” Daisy told him, standing close to his side.

“Let’s check there,” he pointed towards the door.

“This really wasn’t how I expected today to go,” Daisy said sadly, walking next to him.

“None of us did,” Daniel noted as he stepped through the door, which opened automatically. “Just another day at S.H.I.E.L.D.” He looked at her with a small smile.

“Yeah,” she sighed, running her hand down her face, before turning around and calling out for Kora to join them. “That’s the device, right?” She pointed towards a sphere-shaped object on the table.

“Looks like it. Although this has a different color,” Daniel remarked, stepping closer to it.

“Maybe they design it in different colors, you know. Sort of like ‘This one is not matching the armor I am wearing today, so let’s take the green one, instead’,” Daisy grinned at Daniel, who smiled back at her.

“Or like ‘This is not matching with the mood I have today so I think we have to fabricate it in black too’,” Kora added, joining the two agents in the small room.

Both Daisy and Daniel shook their heads at the younger agent, amused smiles still playing on their lips. Daisy then picked the device carefully and Daniel and Kora got closer, forming a tight circle. The sphere reacted to her touch and blue lines appeared on it, almost looking like veins.

“So how does it work?” Kora asked curiously. “I wasn’t really listening before.”

Daisy rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Just think of going home. That’s what Daydra said.”

They were interrupted by a loud crash. The soldiers finally broke through the door. The agents were running out of time.

“Okay, so, now or never,” Daisy said nervously, looking from Daniel to Kora.

“Home?” Kora asked unsure, her voice trembling a little as she could hear the approaching soldiers.

“Home.”

And everything disappeared in the blue light.

Next Chapter →

End note: Some chapters will be shorter and some will be longer depending on the particular story within the chapter. I am currently working on multiple chapters at once.

Anyway, that's it with the "intro" into the story. Next week we are diving in deep. So, until then, bye! Stay safe, guys! And as always, every comment, kudos or a reblog will make me very happy.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

I saw your post on how Animorphs is written from a childist perspective where you very neatly outlined the boundary between a cast for children and one for YA. But what delineates the boundaries between YA and Adult fiction?

[OP refers to this post.]

What’s the difference between YA and Adult fiction?  In a word: Marketing.  Young Adult novels are Young Adult novels if they’re classified that way by bookstores, critics, publishing houses, and/or researchers.

People have pointed out that libraries had YA sections decades before I put the “official” inception with Twilight and Crank.  While that’s true, my local library also has sections on “Queer Paranormal Romance” and “Memoirs by Muslim Authors” (reason 491.2 that my local library is the best) but I doubt either of those genres is going to become mainstream anytime soon.  It wasn’t until Barnes & Noble (and other major gatekeepers) started incorporating YA sections that critics and scholars and publishers started considering it a “real” category worthy of study and discussion, and that didn’t happen until ~2005.

That’s also why the core of my argument about Animorphs is that it’s published by Scholastic, and Scholastic only publishes children’s books, and therefore Animorphs is a children’s series.  Genres are fairly-arbitrary marketing categories, and so are target ages of novels.

So what’s the difference between YA and Adult fiction?

Literal answer: If it’s in the YA section of a bookstore or has a “YA” sticker on the cover, it’s YA.  If it’s not, it isn’t.

Actual answer: Generally, novels that are about adolescents, focus on adolescent conflicts, written for adolescent readers, and/or concerned with the problems of adolescence are Young Adult.

There are some genres that are far more common within YA than others.  Paranormal romance is a big one.  So is “problem lit” that focuses on angst and characters’ first struggles with sex/drugs/death/finance.  (Like I said, Twilight and Crank were trend-setters.)  Period dramas are common, as are Chosen One stories, as are urban fantasies, and those three genres often overlap.  Bildungsroman, or the coming-of-age school story, is the O.G. YA genre.

There’s also a big convention around length.  YA novels tend to be physically quite large, even if publishers have to force the issue through screwing around with spacing and margins like a bunch of high schoolers whose essay has a five-page minimum.

[Image description: Side-by-side comparison of p. 112 of young adult novel Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi and p. 112 of adult novel Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.  The pages are the same size, but the Gone Girl page has approximately twice as much text on it.]

The end result is this.

[Image description: Children of Blood and Bone’s spine lined up next to Gone Girl’s spine.  Gone Girl is noticeably thinner, even though it has a higher word count.]

This shit drives me BANANAS, but it speaks to the importance of this convention, and the extent to which arbitrary trends drive contents of books instead of the other way around.

Anyway, a few marginal cases that I think speak well to the YA/Adult divide:

His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman.  I used to play a game where, every time I entered a new bookstore or library, I’d guess in advance where The Golden Compass was located and then check to see if I was right.  Partially because I’m a dork with really boring ideas of fun, partially because there was no knowing in advance where it’d be classified.  I’ve seen HDM classified as children’s literature (because the main character is 10), as adult adventure (because it deals with religion and death and sex), as religious fiction (because it’s about kids who kill God), as Litératuré (because it attracted Critical Acclaim™), as adult sci-fi (because it’s in a steampunk world), as romance (because ???), as fantasy (because there are talking bears), and finally as YA.  It seems to have settled in YA, I think it belongs there, but YA didn’t really exist at the time when it was published.  It’s got adult and child themes, adult and child characters, and very adolescent character arcs about coming into one’s sexuality and becoming an independent individual... so no one knew what to do with it in 1995.

Song of the Lioness by Tamora Pierce.  Pierce herself has talked about the fact that the books were first marketed as romance (because they’re by a woman and about a woman, and publishing is full of sexist BS), they later got moved to children’s lit, then to “genre fiction.”  Now they’re YA, and they belong in YA.  Again: they’re books about adolescence, where most of the characters are adolescents, and they focus on adolescent concerns.

Crank by Ellen Hopkins.  First of all, I want to make clear that I love that book, and that I learned more about how to write poetry from Hopkins than any English teacher.  However, Crank was also the inspiration for some of my least-favorite trends in YA.  It’s a verse novel, so it has as few as 5 words per page but is also a fucking tome.  Publishers took the message that they could charge $29.99 for a novel with the same number of words but three times the pages as one going for $7.99, and acted accordingly.  It also featured Baby’s First Discussion of Serious Topics like addiction, homelessness, assault, and prejudice.  That helped launch a lot of genuinely brilliant novels whose authors took the time to do it right and/or wrote what they knew (The Hate U Give, Wintergirls, Miseducation of Cameron Post)... aaaand it helped launch a lot of condescending, ablest/sexist/problematic, “those Other People are just like us” type novels (13 Reasons Why, The Fault in Our Stars).

Anyway, people have been writing novels about adolescence for adolescents for as long as there have been novels.  Catcher in the Rye, The Outsiders, The Chocolate War, A Wrinkle in Time, Speak, Silent to the Bone, and Killing Mr. Griffin all make that patently obvious.  However, those novels all kind of wandered around homeless inside a lot of bookstores until mega-sales of books like Twilight, Harry Potter, The Book Thief, Just Listen, Crank, So Yesterday, How I Live Now, The Hunger Games, and (sigh) Looking for Alaska forced Barnes & Noble to build a home for them.

It’s interesting to look at lit crit from right around 2005, because a lot of scholars are saying “there’s this... new category? about teenagers? it’s becoming a thing?”  But in 2020 scholars can just write “YA” and not even spell it out because yeah, yeah, everybody knows.  So the category is useful if it helps people find books, obnoxious to the extent that it controls what books get published or marketed and what they look like on the shelf, and probably going to split even further into “YA - Teens” and “YA - Emerging Adulthood” if trends continue as they have been.