#as a war leader who had bad things happen under his rule | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

00-hawkboi-00 · 6 months

Text

War is Over (and what have we done?)

Part Two

Pairing; Graves x male!reader (slow burn)

Word Count; ~4k

Warnings; slight dehumanization near end (not of reader), implied human trafficking (not of reader), panic attacks, dissociation, implied burning alive (no death)

A/n; I highly recommend reading the newest König part (here) first to avoid the spoiler for that fic near the end.

It had taken months for all of your Shadows to piece themselves back together again. For that little spark in their eyes to relight. Some of them had adapted quicker than others–those who had been in the game longer, those who had already seen their fair share of horrors–while the majority had a much, much more difficult time.

--- "clocks, phone calls, and bad decisions" ---

Afflicted with nightmares and a slew of mental irregularities they hadn't had before. It got so bad with some of them that you had given them all the choice to stay or leave. Another thing he would never have even considered. Not until the contract was complete.

Most of them were misfits of some kind; either dead to the world or long since without outside connections. So it hadn't really been a surprise when, even given the option, none of them had jumped the gun at the opportunity to leave.

Underneath the hard exoskeleton of emotional blockades and shitty coping mechanisms, they all just wanted to fit in. Wanted a place to belong. And your Shadows had found that here, even after the slaughter, with the company. With him. With you.

You were the one to catch them when they fell. To stitch up their wounds with your less-than-ideal medical knowledge when there wasn't a more qualified individual around. To provide adequate support and feedback. And, like right now, to offer comfort and security during their most vulnerable times.

Here in the darkness of one of your Shadows' rooms. Their roommate, though you knew he was awake, kept his breathing even and faced the wall. Pretending not to hear the hushed sobs of the Shadow huddled in your arms. Clutching onto your sweater like their life depended on it.

Nightmares. They plagued a majority of the soldiers here and always had. It wasn't anything new. But after the events of that godforsaken city–the mass murder, the cries, the fire–it had cracked your Shadows' minds. Splintering that delicate balance between emotional dissonance and their own humanity.

When it had become clear that these nightmares were affecting even your most strong-willed soldiers, leaving them jittery and lost in another world most of the time, you had made an offer.

At first, your Shadows had been hesitant, afraid to admit to their crumbling mental fortitude, afraid to be so vulnerable around someone who was supposed to be their leader. Then, after a few weeks and a couple of overheard panic attacks, the unspoken rule that what happened during the blanket of night stayed under that shield of darkness became apparent. And more of your soldiers had accepted your help.

So here you'd sit, letting their tears stain your shirt and humming a soft lullaby. Rubbing soothing circles into their back, using your mere presence to give them something to ground themself with.

Some even anonymously tipped you off to a fellow Shadow in need when said soldier was too ashamed to ask you themselves, or you'd failed to notice.

Of course, there were some who didn't want your help. Or didn't need it. But the offer was always there.

Months later and the majority of them had calmed, no longer needing your assistance. But there were still a select few who you would check up on during your nightly rounds. Listening for hitched breaths and shuddering sobs.

You wait until the tremors wracking through their body calm and then stop completely. Sit there and patiently wait for their breathing to slow and eventually even out, keep up that low hum until you're certain they've drifted back to sleep. Even then you hold out a little longer, pick up on the subtle signs of their roommate relaxing back into his bed on the other side of the room, soft snores filling up the dark, otherwise silent room. Then, and only then, do you slide them off of your lap, make sure they're comfortable, and quietly slip out of the room.

The hall lights are dimmed, the compound almost completely empty of life–apart from the occasional Shadow on guard here and there–as you make your way up to that dreadfully grey office you call your own.

Your steps are quick, silent, and efficient. Not allowing the shadows in the corners of your vision to twist and become sentient; the thrum of the overhead air conditioning to become whispered mutterings of your late colleagues.

Telling you you are the reason for their death.

It's your fault. all your fault

If only you'd

been better.

Blaming you, picking you apart. Vultures on your burnt, rotting corpse. Dead. Just like you should be.

If only

you

had been

better.

Taking the stairs, two steps at a time, as opposed to the elevator to provide enough of a distraction as you head to the third floor.

You should have been there. Why hadn't you been there for them??

Why'd you leave?

Abandon them. You abandoned them. It should have been you.

Why wasn't it you??

You should have done more. Should've kept them alive. That was your job. Why did you kill them??

Your mask is wet, the damp fabric clinging to the marred skin living half-dead beneath. Heart beating erratically, painful, and fluttering against your ribcage. Cage. Trying to break free. A gloved hand your hand? curling around metal. Metal should be cold, it's not. You're cold.

Why are you cold? Cold like the dead man you are. A walking corpse.

It's hot. You should be burning- you are burning. The metal is hot. You're hot. Melting, bleeding, suffocating.

Air isn't reaching your lungs,

Stinging smoke and ash sticking and coagulating in your throat. Wet. Wet with your own blood. Warm and wet.

Sticking to your skin, no, melting. Welding.

Becoming one with your flesh

Wet.

When had you started crying?

Something is blaring. Ringing and piercing through the stagnant air.

Tick, tick, tick.

That's your clock. Your clock. In your office.

You open your eyes and are greeted with the bright, artificial light fixated on the ceiling. The ceiling of your office. Your office.

Tick, tick, tick.

Not burning. Not bleeding. Not suffocating.

When had you sat down?

You're in your office. Your office. Not that metal deathtrap. Not being cooked alive in the fire. No smoke in your lungs, no ache in your limbs. No fabric melting into your skin, flesh giving way and exposing fat and muscle.

No. Just you. Alive. In your office.

Tick, tick, tick.

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, taking a few deep, measured breaths. Inhale. Hold. One, two, three. Exhale. Repeat.

Onetwothree, exhale.. Inhale. onetwothree-

What is that ringing?

You peel your hands away from your face, take another calming breath, and try to pinpoint the source of that shrill noise. The only things on your desk are papers, more paperwork, that stack of recruitment forms, pens, pencils, that damn landline phone you never use- oh. Right.

Ringing. Phone. Phone ringing. Of course.

Tick, tick, tick.

Your gaze zeros in on the muted grey object, red light flashing, that damn ringtone still blaring. You don't want to answer it. Not for the usual reason; not because picking up the phone means talking to another human being are you even still human? No.

This call causes your heart rate to spike again, the panic you had just managed to get under control stirring once more. Ice-cold dread fills your lungs as opposed to the burning taste of flames and acrid smoke from before.

No one calls. Not from that phone. No one but her.

It started a little over a month after you all made it back home. A shrill ringing of your desk landline, only ever one person on the other side. You didn't know her name, she never told you it. She knew yours. She knew far too much about you. And you knew nothing of her.

Nothing but an offer. The same goddamn offer.

There was no predictability to when she'd call, just that you were always there when it happened. And it never stopped ringing.

No matter how much you ignored it. You had no choice but to pick it up, hold the device to your ear and whisper,

"Lieutenant _____ speaking, who is this?" Even though you knew damn well who was on the other line.

"Ah, Lieutenant," she'd purr, that thick Russian accent only reaffirming what you already knew. "I'm not calling you at bad time, no?"

"Not at all." You'd force out, walking through the same script you did every other call–well, less like walking and more like trudging through a fucking swamp.

"Good. Good." She'd hum, then ask; "have you given any thought to my offer?"

"Not any more than usual." A small, condescending tut on her end.

"Mm.. you know, we are not that different. You and I." You had nothing in common.

"I hire soldiers by the contract, you raise killers. We are not the same." Killers with little to no morals, from your understanding.

"I mass produce expertly-trained combat warriors."

"Right."

"I take it the answer is still no?"

"..."

"Very well, Lieutenant. I give you little more time." Click. And just like that, the conversation was over. Didn't last long, they never did. The same damn thing every. single. time.

You hated the way she said it, like she was just biding her time. Like you would eventually say yes. As if it were inevitable.

You force yourself to loosen the near-death grip you had on the poor phone, placing it down on the receiver with a little more force than necessary.

It was late. You should try to get some sleep, or maybe finally take a look through those recruitment files. You most definitely should not be standing up, pushing away from your desk, and walking out the door. Only one destination in mind.

You shouldn't be doing this. Not after whatever the fuck happened before the call. Not after the damned call. Not when you were already feeling unstable, when your temper was shot and you could still hear that damn tick, tick, tick echoing through your ears.

None of that stops you and now here you are. Having briefly dismissed the two Shadows you had guarding the door, you now stood alone in the vacant corridor. In front of a locked door, the key gripped tight in your gloved hand.

You haven't visited him since he first arrived. That was a week ago. You shouldn't be here; he was probably asleep.

But, for fuck's sake, you weren't in the best shape right now. And you really, really didn't care if you did wake the fucker up.

At least you had the decency to knock.

Once.

You stand there at the foot of the small cot with your arms crossed firmly over your chest, silently fuming at the man who laid on it. Like a damn creep.

He hadn't changed, not really. At least not physically. Nothing of note besides his slightly smaller frame, a few shallow burn scars here and there, and the fact that his hair has grown out a little.

He otherwise looked the same. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.

No. He didn't get to do that to you. Not anymore. Not after all the shit he's put you- all of you through. Not when your Shadows still came to you, shaking in their boots, stuttering about the horrors their minds had conjured up. Waking and not.

It was unfair how he lay there, mostly unscathed, while your own body was a burnt, mutilated corpse. An almost physical representation of your own faults; your greatest sins manifesting in thick, tightened tissue and stretched muscle. The disgusting, foul parts of yourself are laid bare for the world to see.

And, he, an almost blank slate despite his own immorality.

It wasn't fair.

You stand there, silently seething and glaring down at the man's almost lifeless body–was he tormented by memories of that night, just as you were? You'd think he was dead if you couldn't see the faint rise and fall of his chest. So far deep, lost in your thoughts, that you don't realize he's woken until that voice you hoped you'd never hear again pierces your eardrums.

"Phantom..?" He grumbles, still half asleep but starting to become more lucid the longer you stand there. You should leave, let him keep sleeping, maybe pass this off as a dream and come at another time-

You are rooted to the ground. The standardized, thin, grey carpet below your feet, under your boots. Still more than he deserves.

"Don't call me that."

"Call you what?" He huffs, that damn self-assured smirk worming its way onto his face. You hated it. You used to love it. "Your name?"

"It's not my name. Not anymore." He's the one who gave it to you in the first place. You couldn't stand to hear it spoken, especially by him. He didn't deserve the honor. You hated the way it made your chest seize, your breath catch.

"Since when?" You hated how it made you remember.

"Since now." Since over half your squad died. Since you all slaughtered an entire town–innocent adults and children–in search of one fucking criminal. Since Viper Shadow 0-9 ended up in a fucking coma. Since that damn tank. Since your uniform melted and became one with your skin.

"Why did you come here, Phantom?" He sighs, moving to sit up. The thin, standardized blanket pooled around his waist. He brings up a hand to card through his hair, giving you a tired, almost annoyed stare. "Did ya come here just to stir up some shit? To blow off some steam maybe?"

You didn't know why you were here. You were angry, sure, furious, even. And you were in the same room as him, staring back at the same man who haunted thrived in your dreams. The man who- it's his fault.

All his fault.

"And what's with the-" he makes a vague gesture at you, then his own face. "I thought you didn't like the uniform? Something about it "separating us from our own humanity" or whatever cryptic bullshit. Though you did greenlight the choice in the end, so ya couldn't have hated 'em that much."

Why are you here? He was just making everything worse.

Tick, tick, tick-

Why the hell was there another fucking clock in this room??

You stew in your own fuming anger, glaring daggers down at the other man. The man who had ruined you.

Even before the betrayal.

"There's much to talk about."

"Right." He deadpans. "In the middle of the goddamn night?"

"It's four in the morning."

He sighs again, dragging a hand down his face. "Right. Forgot how technical you could be."

"Thought that's what you liked about me?" Oh, hell. Welp. This is where it was going. Right.

Should've known you wouldn't be able to keep those weak, useless fucking emotions to yourself.

You used to be wonderful at that. Until him.

Tick, tick, tick.

"Ah, is this what we're doing? Really, Phantom? Right now?"

"I told you not to call me that."

"You're also the one bringing up our past relations, so fucking deal with it, yeah?"

You used to be the mellow one, a clear thinker. Following but also guiding him when he sunk too deep into his own personal hell of a mind.

"You survived."

That was then. This is now.

"Yeah, I did. Is that really such a surprise?"

A lot has changed. And you really, really were tired of that cocky fucking smile of his.

"I was really hoping you hadn't." You grit out in that usual monotone voice of yours.

It was a little harsh, a little brutal. And to anyone else–anyone who didn't know you, not like he did used to–it would seem flat, blunt. But he knew better, could hear every bit of malice, each drop of venom that twisted through every word you forced past your lips.

He deserved every word–and more.

His mouth forms a thin line, eyebrows pulling together in a small frown. It felt almost good. To wipe that damn self-satisfied smirk off of his face.

You wanted to keep going. To lay it on thick. To give him what he deserved–to force him to face all the shit he's put you all of you through–, or at least come close.

Now you both stood on the same side of the spectrum. From hot and cold to an all-consuming inferno. A double-edged sword. Twin flames; in the worst possible way.

Tick, tick, tick.

"You've changed." That is all he says. Not at all the burning fire you had been expecting. The bite and sting you were used to.

No shit. You want to say. You don't.

Because he's right. You have changed.

And you're not entirely sure you're too fond of who you're becoming. Who you've already become.

Tick, tick, tick.

Instead of giving him the satisfaction of an answer, you effortlessly withdraw a small, sleek throwing knife from your person. Launching it towards him but not at him.

Striking that damned clock in the center of its face. Piercing the glass but not shattering it.

Tick, tick, tick.

It still works perfectly fine, to your great disappointment. And slight embarrassment; you find yourself thankful for your mostly covered face.

"Damn." He whistles, looking back at the blade protruding from the clock. Then back to you, that smug expression back to being firmly in place on that stupid face of his. "Am I gettin' under your skin, Phantom? I thought it was supposed to be the other way around? Isn't that why you came here?"

You exhale sharply through your nose, tearing your gaze away from that giant man-child and snapping to the door instead.

Your heart pounds in your chest, adrenaline thrumming through your veins. Not out of fear this time, no, not at all like earlier. It's anger this time.

Pure, unfiltered rage and burning hatred simmering just beneath the surface. Fighting to be free.

You decide you quite like this new feeling. It was so rare you gave yourself the opportunity to feel it.

"You've changed, Phantom." He drawls again, this time less factual and more taunting. You hate it. You love it. It feeds the fire in you. "You've become just like me."

Oh.

No.

The warm adrenaline that has been pumping through your blood abruptly comes to a halt. Cold hard dread freezing in your veins instead.

Hell no.

Stiff as steal, you turn, not bothering to look back at him, and make for the door. Locking it behind you.

The Shadow you give the key back to doesn't question your trembling hands, simply returning to guard duty.

You're numb as you make your way upstairs again. Not even tormented by the usual slew of negativity and hallucinations.

You're not real, simply observing the world from an outsider's perspective. Watching yourself stroll down one corridor, then another, before making it to your office door.

You witness yourself unlocking the door, turning the knob, and walking inside. Sitting at your desk, you don't even register the feel of it beneath you.

Tick, tick, tick.

Maybe you should start combing through those recruitment forms.The company needed more bodies. In case of another unprecedented incident.

A notification popping up on the screen of your laptop brings your world to a stop.

It's from the Captain. You had been waiting to hear back from him since that first meeting had been so rudely interrupted.

You click on it–expecting a new date to make up for the last call, or maybe an apology for taking so long to get back to you–, read through those three brief sentences and all the bubbling rage you'd felt earlier quickly snaps back into its rightful place.

You push away from your desk before your brain even has the chance to register what you're doing. Gloved hands in your hair, fingers tangling into whatever you can grab. Tugging and pulling as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Pacing, breaths coming out in short pants as you desperately try to ground yourself.

Notagainnotagainnotagain-

The phone is ringing.

Tick, tick, tick.

Eyes flying open, body coming to an abrupt pause, you lock onto the offending noise.

Not right now. You couldn't deal with this right now. Not when so high strung. Not when you were feeling impulsive and out of control.

She already called once, why is she calling again? So soon?

You should ignore it. Deal with it later, when you've calmed down a bit. When was the last time you got some sleep anyway?

It takes one more ring and then you're stalking over to your desk.

One hand gripping the edge of the metal ledge firmly, the other snatches the phone off the receiver.

"How are you, Lieutenant?"

"I don't have time for this." You growl out, your voice is unrecognizable. Even to yourself.

"Have time for what? I'm just checking in."

"You already called."

A pause. You'd had one hell of a shitty day, Captain Price's blatant dismissal of you and your company was really just the icing on the cake.

She was talking. "-they don't need to be broken in. They take orders easily, without question. Every one of them-" Singing praise about the same offer she'd given you time and time again.

An email. He hadn't even had the decency or respect to call you. Didn't think you were worthy of more than a few clipped lines.

That they were busy. Didn't have time for you.

That they had more pressing issues to attend to. You weren't a priority.

"Yes."

"Sorry? Can you repeat that?" You know damn well she heard it. You didn't have the energy for this back-and-forth bullshit.

"What can you do for me?"

"Well," she purrs. "I already have one of my Predators claws-deep in that precious little task force…"

At that moment, you wanted to crush Price and his little soldier boys like the pests they were.

"And?" You can tell she's enjoying this and maybe one day you'll come to regret it all. But that day is not today, dammit, and you're tired of being a doormat.

"I can send you one of my Predators, one of the best. Maybe it could teach your Shadows a trick or two."

"Sounds perfect." The old you would've never agreed to this, would never have even considered it.

But the old you wasn't here right now. This new version was. And this new version refused to be bothered by it.

Refused to be like him.

Because, if you were already heading down that path, why not become worse than him? Make him regret ever uttering those words.

Tick, tick, tick.

Make him regret ever crossing you.

"That's great! I'm glad you have come to your senses, Lieutenant." You and her both. For better or worse. "You'll have it by the end of the week."

That regret came sooner than you thought it would.

You stand there a little for a little while longer after the call ends, phone rumbling the low hum of dead air in your hand.

The overwhelming rage has finally calmed to a simmer, the reality of your choices crashing down on you.

What have you done?

At least that meant no more calls.. right? There had to be some positivity to this.

Tick, tick, tick.

The phone drops from your hand, caught only by its wire as it hangs off your desk. The off-hook tone is still blaring from the speaker.

You're standing on the unstable metal of your desk, reaching, then sitting on that same surface. Clock in hand.

Tick, tick, tick.

Rough fabric scrabbling at the latch in the back. Yanking, pulling, peeling back broken plastic and grabbing at wires.

Tick, tick, tick.

Pulling on them, breaking them. Red, yellow, black, blue; you don't care. It all has to go.

Tick, tic-

Finally. Finally. Quiet at last. No more ticking. Just you. Just you; alone, in your office.

Surrounded by a massacre of black, disfigured plastic and colorful wire. On your hands, on your lap, on your desk.

It's almost poetic. How it looks like you.

It's finally quiet.

And so are you.

Masterlist | One | Next

@cptg00s3 @ruthgrimxiao @20nerd04-blog @gloma08 @mikahrh @in-down @hauntedapplefarm @mello-life69 @unkn0wnd3ad @tayaisback @starre-eyes @ravage-reposts @suhmie @lazyrel

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments!

#call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #reader insert #graves x male reader #gay

122 notes · View notes

lassieposting · 1 year

Text

So anyway

I finished S2 firmly like "Nikolai and Kirigan should've been friends". Because they want the same fuckin things. They both want to end Grisha persecution, they both want to improve Ravka, they both want to end Lantsov corruption, they're both military, they're both willing to fight on the front lines or sacrifice for their people. Nikolai would've served under Kirigan during his military service, and seen him at court besides. They'd absolutely have hit it off.

But then I found out that Nikolai/Kirigan is actually a ship in this fandom. And I kind of get it? But mostly I'm cackling at the idea that like.

Nikolai is That Kid. The one that's like "I have a crush and I'm going to make it everyone else's problem."

It's like, a cute little hero-worship thing, at first? He's at that age where he's allowed to sit in on court proceedings, because even though he's the spare he's still expected to learn how to rule, and he's either just started his own military service or he's just about to, and unlike Vasily, he's proud to serve his country. And Kirigan is? Someone to look up to. Ravka has been at war for longer than Nikolai has been alive, besieged on all sides, and he knows that it's not his father the king who's keeping the Shu Han and the Fjerdans at bay. It's not Vasily, who's in his twenties now and would rather fritter away the country's coin on whores and horses than ever set foot on a battlefield. It's General Kirigan.

And - well, and the other chap, the First Army General in West Ravka, but Nikolai has never met him.

And like. Nikolai is a little people-pleaser. When he thinks of himself as king - which he knows is unlikely to happen, and he knows he shouldn't wish for it in the first place because the only way he'd ever get the throne is if something terrible happened to Vasily, he knows - but when he thinks of himself as king, he wants to think he'd be a good one. A benevolent one, who'd make life better for the common people and not just his own family. He pictures himself as a brave, respected leader of men. Independent. Strong-willed, driven, self-assured. Handsome. He pictures himself as someone like General Kirigan.

(He'll admit that, one day - the image he had of the Black General growing up, as the hero archetype a king ought to be - and Kirigan - Aleksander, by that point - will laugh himself stupid and say, "You're an appalling judge of character. There's too much monster in me to make much of a king." And maybe that's true - he knows Aleksander's done some terrible things, what soldier hasn't in war? - but he's Nikolai's monster, and Ravka's, keeping invaders away from their borders and assassins away from Nikolai's private rooms, so he'd argue that perhaps that's not entirely a bad thing.)

And, well, he gets a little older, and discovers that people are attractive, and childish hero-worship develops into full-blown hormone-addled teenage puppy love and. He's not subtle about it, like, at all.

It's like...Father invites the General to eat with the family one evening after a late meeting, and Nikolai bribes Vasily to switch seats so he can spend the evening charming his hero with his wit and maturity. What actually happens is that he goes all shy and mostly just Yearns™ across the table while all the adults present delicately ignore the moon-eyed elephant in the room.

He has a servant take some of his favourite books on military history over to the Little Palace, in case the General might like them, because he's fairly sure the Grand Palace library is..well...grander...than the Little Palace library. It literally does not occur to him how patronizing that is coming from a spotty sixteen-year-old with net zero victories to his name. He knows Kirigan must be a bit older than he looks - he swore the Grisha to the crown when Nikolai's grandfather was on the throne - but he has no idea that Kirigan served in the wars the books were written about.

When he's a little older and has more time to himself, he starts dropping in to visit at the Little Palace, which...isn't really the done thing, for some reason - none of his family ever have much call to visit outside of official events - but? Who's going to say no to the tsarevich? He has a tendency for a while to pop up wherever Kirigan is working and pelt him with enthusiastic questions - why did you form the Second Army? When did you build the Little Palace? Why do you bring all the Grisha to live here? Where did you grow up? What's the Cut? Can I see it? Why have you never brought your family to court? Do you have a family? Is there no Lady Kirigan? How long did it take you to make General? What did you do to get promoted?

Kirigan is polite. He answers harmless questions as honestly as he thinks he safely can - which lowkey affects how Nikolai's political opinions end up differing from his family's, because it turns out the General makes a lot of good points about how badly Grisha were and are treated outside the Little Palace, and it's not really Nikolai's place to have opinions on how his father rules but he thinks they should not be treated like that, maybe - deflects personal ones, entertains Nikolai's interest in strategy when he's in a good mood, gives him some harmless busywork tasks to do so he feels useful and lets Kirigan get actual work done. He's a bit flattered, even, that the boy sees him as a role model, because it's surprisingly easy to forget how impressive your military career has been, even in just this "lifetime", when all most people ever see when they look at you is the big bad scary Darkling. But at some point Nikolai does something stupid - tries to kiss him, gets too familiar, idk, he's like 17 and horny - that makes it blatantly obvious that he's misreading indulgence as interest, and Kirigan has to slam up some boundaries sharpish. Nikolai starts finding Fedyor posted outside the war room to tell him cheerfully that he's sorry, but the General is very busy and can't be disturbed.

(Fedyor and Ivan have been finding the blatant crush highly entertaining. Kirigan hasn't - he's fucking cringing on the inside - but he tolerates the subtle teasing from his heartrenders with something approaching good grace.)

Anyway, Nikolai grows up, spends years at a time away from the Grand Palace, has a pretty successful military career with the First Army and then amuses himself by turning privateer and fleecing the Fjerdans as Sturmhond. He grows up enough to realise how deeply cringey he was for a few years there, because he's gone through something similar with an overeager young deckhand who had a real thing for the Sturmhond persona. He's not far off thirty when Father has a heart attack and Vasily has a horse racing accident not long after and Nikolai finds himself recalled to Ravka to take the throne. He has to work closely with Kirigan, which suits him fine, because not only do they have compatible plans for Ravka, it turns out that as adult men on equal footing, they get on like a house on fire, and can even joke about his awkward younger self. And if he happens to...cross some conventions of propriety...well, he's old enough to know his own mind, and he's had it off with enough of his own crew to know how to balance a professional relationship and a personal one. Kirigan understands grief, understands pressure, understands having countless lives in your hands and no way to save all of them, and Saints know Nikolai needs to lean on someone, because Mother's too beside herself to have his fears and hurts on her shoulders too.

(Kirigan - Aleksander - understands that, too. Difficult mothers. Nikolai is learning all sorts of things about his General these days)

Actually you know what I've talked myself into the ship. This was supposed to just be a short post about the comedy potential of long-suffering Darkles dealing with a pampered princeling's obvious crush but have some headcanons instead bc all aboard the HMS Darkolai I guess

#sab headcanons #darkolai #nikolai lantsov #aleksander kirigan #i have not read the books and i am entirely fudging the timeline #but yeah ugh i was so hoping these two would vibe and get along #sab

219 notes · View notes

no-spices-just-pisces · 4 months

Text

Foxes Gang Au part 1

The Foxes, Ravens and Trojans were rival gangs on the Palmetto territory

The Trojans came to an begrudging peace with the other two gangs as long as blood wasn’t spilled

They were the ones that wanted to do their business without being at each other’s throats, thanks to their leader Jeremy Knox, whose ever present smile had a subtle treat to it only the trained eye could notice

The Foxes and Ravens were notorious for their rivalry, no peace would ever be settled between them

The Ravens won in numbers and resources but the Foxes won in heart and ambition

Even with so little members, they fought like they had everything to lose, they were a family, pulling each other to the top

The tension between them was always well known on the streets of Palmetto

Dan Wilds, leader of thee Foxes cared about her members like her own blood, always putting their safety first over money

Riko Moriyama, leader of the Ravens, was the exact opposite, sacrificing and torturing recruits left and right for the sake of profit and his own personal satisfaction

Their bad blood only increased as Riko’s second in comand, Kevin Day left the Raven and joined the Foxes after Riko left him broken handed on the streets after a job went wrong

Still, the Ravens took offense as if the Foxes stole their property from then, and war started

The first move was when Fox member Seth Gordon was shot in the chest in the middle of the day by a Raven

The second move was when Seth’s girlfriend, Allison stabbed the Raven in the chest 17 times

Foxes were restricted from walking Palmetto’s streets alone from then on

The Trojans made their statement of neutrality known, but there were whispers stating that they would take the Foxes’s side if things went too far

No one would have thought that the factor that would settle the war between the two gangs would come in the form of a 5 feet 3 redhead with attitude problems

Nathaniel Wesninski grew up around violence, being thought from an way too early age that his he would grow up to inherit his father’s crime empire and rule over Baltimore with a hand of steel

His mother didn’t want that future for him, so she ran away with him in the middle of the night when he was 11

They had been on the run for 8 years until their father had caught up with them and took away the only person who ever cared about him

He managed to escape his father a second time, but barely

Without his mother his life didn’t look like it was going to last much longer, his father would eventually catch up to him again

Nathaniel, now under the identity of Neil Josten, ran to Palmetto, the last place he had been with his mother before they ran away, remembering the power that place held, hoping he could find someone more powerful than his father to either protect him or kill him first

His salvation came in the face of Ichirou Moriyama, who didn’t take Neil under his protection because of his heart, but in need of a mean to tighten the leash he had on his younger brother

Riko had too much power in Palmetto, being given that territory by their father, since he could never interfere in their business

Neil, being recognized by Ichirou, was sent in the heart of the gangs’ war to survey everything happening and report back

This was against everything his mother had wanted for him, but this offered him protection against his father, so it worked

#aftg #palmetto state foxes #edgar allan ravens #usc trojans #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #kevin day #dan wilds #allison reynolds #renee walker #matt boyd #nicky hemmick #seth gordon #jeremy knox #jean moreau #laila dermott #catalina alvarez #riko moriyama

36 notes · View notes

darklinaforever · 1 year

Text

To be neutral in the Black and Green conflict :

When I see people say that Rhaenyra was intentionally written by the author to be unfit to rule and a bad ruler in general, I want to tear my eyes out. Let's voluntarily forget that she was mentally impacted by everything she got in the face in a short time. Usurpation, the death of his father, his daughter, his son, the war, the coffers emptied by the Greens, and I'm sure what comes next. Not to mention the likely (no actually it's even sure) anti-Rhaenyra propaganda led by the Maesters, trying to paint her as worse than she really was.

Also, this bullshit that by reigning and dying like she did, Rhaenyra CREATED precedent and prejudice against female rulers/queen reigning, which made it much harder for women to become full monarchs. As ? Wtf? What is this bullshit? There has literally ALWAYS been precedent and prejudice against women in Westeros in general, even more so in the idea that a woman can even rule. Shit, the fucking premise of this story is that Rhaenyra was usurped on the basis of her gender. They literally tried to steal the throne from her when she had done NOTHING wrong. Rhaenyra didn't create anything against her sex as a monarch at all, it was already there. And if we had left her alone instead of ruining her life, Rhaenyra would surely have made a decent queen. Not the best, but definitely not the worst either. What happened was literally a woman was declared heiress, the misogynists said no, spent most of her life rotting her, and when she later turns out to be unable to make a great/good sovereign in the midst of war against part of her own family, under pressure, bereaved and mentally impacted by the whole affair, it cries: "You see! We were right! She was destined to hold the role of sovereign badly!" When it's literally those people who rotted it until it was broken and messed up.

Let's not even talk about adding to the debate that the leader's gender mattered enough at the time that there were obviously protests against a woman. So you're actually trying to justify the misogyny of the time?

Then, while holding aside the discourse of neutrality, while sorry, Rhaenyra should have done what exactly? Let his brother steal what was rightfully his?

Spare me too your stupid speeches of course: All this (this war) was useless, under the pretext that there is no "real winner" in the end, only survivors. That betting on a particular team is ridiculous because they all do horrible things. That war is bad. That the real enemy in this story is war. That the point is that the nobility is eaten alive, the throne cuts you to pieces, etc.

But lol, do you think that at the end of his saga George's world will become a democracy? Wake up, you're literally in a feudal world you moron. Not to mention this stupid option that the author's stories are anti-war… Lol, I'm not even going to argue about that, it's so stupid. Reassure me, you know that just wars exist? It's stupid to say "war is bad" in any kind of context, because it's not.

Yes, the dance has impacted everyone. The Kingdom, the Greens, the Blacks, etc. But why ? Eh ? WHO started this whole mess? And why ? Well the answer is simple: THE GREENS! QUITE SIMPLY !

I love this talk of neutrality, because it basically serves to hide which team you really support.

The Greens have sworn loyalty to the rightful heir, namely Rhaenyra. Then, on the basis of her gender, they engineered a power grab and theft of the throne, committing treason and unleashing a war that set the kingdom on fire. There's no "both sides doing bad things that hold up" in there.

Also no need to use the argument, "but Rhaenyra had illegitimate children". Already because if it would have been a guy, no one would have cared. But in addition, in the first version of the dance, the children of Rhaenyra had to be legitimate, and guess what? The war would still have happened! Not to mention that the plot to depose Rhaenyra began long before she had any children, rendering that argument null.

Never mind that Rhaenyra didn't turn out to be a good queen! She was the rightful heiress and was usurped solely on the basis of her gender at the time, and the conspiracy began as soon as Aegon II was born. Rhaenyra had done absolutely nothing wrong to deserve having her birthright stolen.

And even when she doesn't turn out to be a good queen later on, it's forgotten how much she got in the face and how it impacted her mentally. Rhaenyra is literally a human being who has been kicked around for years because of being a female heiress.

The case is simple. The Greens have attacked the FIRST! Without valid reasons! And the Targaryens simply fought back, fighting for their right and their heritage. Did they commit war crimes? Yes. Guess what, always less worse than the Greens, waging war much more humanely than them. (Also, it's literally almost impossible not to commit a crime in times of war, it's even almost inevitable)

Yes, the war has diminished Targaryen prestige and power with the loss of the Dragons. But why ? Once again, it was not them who started the war. IT'S THE GREENS! THEN STOP WITH YOUR FALSE NEUTRALITY! THERE IS NO NEUTRALITY IN THIS MATTER! IF YOU DO THIS, YOU ARE LITERALLY SUPPORTING/ACCEPTING MYSOGINIA AS A VALID POINT TO STARTING A WAR!

The story of the dance is not about the ravages of war, or how wrong and useless it is. It's wrong. Yes, the war will have been horrible, but the only main point of this story is misogyny. It's the fact that a woman has been usurped simply because of her sex. That's even the fucking reason there was a war! Because a woman has been named heiress! Claiming the contract is completely stupid and hypocritical.

Not to mention the fact is that admittedly both sides lose quotes in the end. Except that the Targaryen line continues all the same BY RHAENYRA and that the Greens, them, end up at one time when another by all dying out. Even though Aegon III and Viserys II are broken, they continued their legacy, while the Greens, who once again started all this shit, eventually all die. This is what is called, in fiction, a karmic punishment. What ? Do you think it's a coincidence that the author killed all the Greens at the end? Doesn't that mean anything?

Really, I'm tired of seeing there's so much bullshit about being "neutral" (knowing that usually it's an excuse to side with the Greens and sure spit Rhaenyra as I l 've demonstrated) in this case because war = bad?

It's completely stupid.

#house of the dragon #daemon x rhaenyra #daemyra #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra x daemon #daemon and rhaenyra #rhaenyra and daemon #house targaryen #house of targaryen #team black #anti greens

191 notes · View notes

thunderclaw100 · 2 months

Text

(Scene #5)

“Hmm….so this is where they keep you guys, huh? A display for all to see? Couldn’t pick a better death place for such rulers. It’s a wonder why the control brains want to swipe your memory from history.”

Viper had to jump through so many hoops and gather enough courage to get inside this forbidden room after hearing about three specific tallest that have been swept under the rug of the collective. He was curious as to why that is. Viper did ask around the base. Avoiding the higher ranks as to not draw suspicion for his actions. It eventually lead him to discover this secret on his own. Viper walked up to the first tank. It’s pink liquid bubbled upward but he can see the figure within it. He is aware that these are not the real bodies of the late tallest but fake genetic makeup that resemble them. The real ones were taken care of after their reign was over. Viper placed his hand on the cold surface of the tank for a minute. The glow from the static charger in between tanks are what keeps the liquid inside purified and the fake bodies at a stable position. Without it, they will dissolve into nothing. He touched the control panel.

“Let’s see….tallest Magnus. A ruler who became ruthless and unmerciful after the fall of his co-ruler. What ended his reign is himself. Magnus finally lost it. He won many battles. But when he loses one, it made him look weak in the eyes of his empire, so he took the fight to his enemy’s base. Many followed him to battle and are able to overthrow the leader there. Magnus held the head of his enemy and let out a victory scream. Returning home where there is to be a huge celebration in his honor. Tallest Magnus returned to his chambers. He did not show to the part so when his servants walked in, they’re in shock to find their leader dead. He sits in his throne, eyes blanked out and his chest slashed open in an odd shape. It was presumed that this was the battle wounds left unchecked by the medics. But in truth, Magnus did that to himself. The evidence was on his blade. The same blade that was given to him from Spectra when they were cadets. He used it to carve deep cuts in shape of a heart. The tallest let himself bleed out while he waits for death to take him….”

He scrolled downward and read everything about this guy. His story stops there. “He died for the sake of love?….there is a reason why our programming blocks such strong emotions like that. He was so young and strong. Magnus could have made the empire even more powerful if he’d stayed focused!”

Moving on to the next tank. It’s a female this time. He looked at her info form the control panel screen. Hers is a lot shorter than the other. Viper’s antenna flicked to the side. “This must be tallest Spectra. The partner to tallest Magnus. She’s a rare sight in the empire. She made three things happen. The start of the strategic ambush camouflage team. The new 3D update on the holo-visor and was able to tame a war beast. She named her voot cruiser after it.”

Viper looked up at the figure inside the tank. Puzzled and still curious about this leader. Spectra’s accomplishments should have been well known to the rest of irk society, so what made the control brains want to wipe her memory out of the collective? He scrolled further down the information.

“Tallest Spectra….died at 200 years old towards her reign. Cause of death….hmm? That’s strange.”

Viper reread that again. Tallest Spectra’s death was deemed a mystery to some irkens. Though when asked the control brains were asked, it was said that she died from an illness. One that was so bad that it infected her flesh vessel to the point that her pak claimed Spectra a virus and has automatically killed her itself. The technicians at the time knew what really happened to her and was ordered to keep their mouths shut or face execution for defiance against the control brains. This news has shattered tallest Magnus and has drove him into a pit of madness and despair. How he managed to rule another 200 years without breaking is beyond expectations.

“Two devastating stories linked into one.”

Viper moved along to the last tallest. Judging by the look at his attire, this one's been living spoiled. Checking the information from the screen, he learned that this is a leader who was lying in wait.

“What does that mean?”

Viper narrowed his eyes and read further into this one. Tallest Lux was once a cadet, moving to become a blacksmith. He already haves a person to mentor him but his time with him was cut short after being called in by the control brains to prepare him to become the next tallest. Viper tilt his head at this.

“Why would they pick him when there was already a tallest present? Lux didn’t get measured until….Tyne same day that Magnus died? The timing couldn’t be more suspicious than that! He was still so young.”

Tallest Lux ruled on a softer level than his predecessor. Though he was more than glad to help expand the empire across the galaxy, his approach on the matter wasn’t like anything else. Despite Lux feint given the title as tallest and the privilege that came with it. He was a bratty guy. His demands and orders are based off of what he wants for himself. He barely attended to most of his scheduled meetings. He visited the smeetery ONCE. Lux even ignored the summons of the control brains. That shook everyone.

“Damn he really was spoiled….”

This behavior could be the fact that tallest Lux was still a minor in the eyes of everyone else and has lost his sense of discipline after being given the power. “So his cause of death was….execution? Oh my glob. They tricked Lux into a room, where they locked him inside. It became a gas chamber….” Viper wanted to know how the this tallest’s death was covered up.

“This time it was the medics that claimed tallest Lux died from being poisoned by one of his own cooking staff. That said Irken was wrongfully blamed and put to death on the spot. In front of everyone.” Viper shook his head in disbelief. These are some very dark secrets that are kept away from the rest of irk. All in which the control brains were able to sugarcoat and make the other Irkens believe that these three leaders have died for their empire.

Viper stepped back a few steps, and to get a better view of the three tanks. Now he’s trying to figure out why these tallest die the way that they did and what’s the reason for keeping it secret. “Their existence is still noted down and known but why did the control brains wash over some of their story? Magnus was a brutal leader but he got the job done. Spectra has made achievements as well, but thre isn’t much to tell about what she did to deserve the death she got. Lux just stepped out of line but he too was contribute to the empire’s growth, so what was it?….”

Viper’s antenna’s perked at the sound of someone entering the room. He forgot about the maintenance crew have a shorter break time and are already coming back in. He had nowhere else to hide. Viler expected a bunch of short drones walking in, but to his fortunate luck, there was only one Irken present.

“What are you doing in here? This place of forbidden to everyone accept the maintenance team!”

“Ease your voice drone. I’m not here to bother. I just got a little lost, that’s all. I didn’t know about this room. I was looking for the storage unit.” Viper lied.

Now that the drone got a better look at him. He fixed his tone. “Head scientists, Viper! I didn’t recognize you for a moment. Please excuse my rudeness.”

A smirk crept onto Viper’s face. He loves this part of being na a high rank scientist. His promotion has moved him to work closer to the almighty tallest. He is in charge of the main research projects that will help move the empire forward. Anything that is made to increase the Irken’s reputation or something bio made that can be of greater use. The drone looked passed Viper and at one sight of the control panel screens, he grew suspicious. “What happened here?”

“Oh nothing. I got a little curious and took a look at the info monitor.” Viper didn’t have anything else to say as an excuse for his snooping. He shruged it off. The maintenance drone looked anxious now.

“You shouldn’t be in here. Not without permission. I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave this room.”

“Very well. I’ll leave to it then. Carry on soldier….”

Viper began to walk towards the door but heard the drone call him out again. “Whatever you read on those monitors are not all there. Only some of us know what really happened to these tallest but are too afraid for our own paks to speak up about it.”

“If you are worried that I’ll mention this, don’t. This is something I too will keep to myself.” Viper told him before he finally walked out that door. With this knee information at hand, there’s more that needs to be done around here before he can get back to work.

“The tallest will be leaving for space, on the massive soon. I’ll be joining them along with my team. Maybe I’ll get a chance to talk to them about my project.”

#Invader Zim #Fanart #OC #Irken #Viper #Tallest Magnus #Tallest Spectra #Tallest Lux

5 notes · View notes

horsesarecreatures · 1 year

Photo

Book review: I Must Betray You by Ruta Sepetys

This book is grim, but I’m glad I read it. It is a very eye-opening look into Romania under the rule of it’s communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu. The main character is a 17 year old boy named Cristian Florescu, who lives with his parents, sister, and grandfather in a one bedroom apartment in Bucharest. One day while he is at school, he is pulled aside by a Securitate agent. The agent somehow knows that he accepted American stamps from the son of his mother’s employer, an American diplomat, which is illegal. The agent blackmails him into becoming an informer on the diplomat family, first by threatening to arrest him, then by threatening to arrest his whole family, and finally by promising him medicine for his grandfather with “leukemia” (is is later discovered that the grandfather was actually poisoned with radiation by the government). Cristian has to decide whether he will fully comply, partially comply, or try to sabotage his missions.

................................................................................................................................

I knew from watching travel shows like Globe Trekker that things were pretty bad in Romania during that time, but the things I read in this book still shocked me. Ceausescu in some senses put Stalin to shame, and the fact that he was critical of other communist leaders made the West turn a blind eye to the atrocities that were happening under his rule. Before Romania became the last country in the soviet bloc to have it’s revolution, some things that became normalized in there included:

- Extreme food restrictions that were more severe than the rations during World War II. People had to stand in lines for hours in the cold after their 12 hour work shifts just to get something like a small piece of bread, or cooking oil. If a person over purchased food, they could be imprisoned for 6 months to 5 years.

- Due to Ceausescu wanting to increase the worker population, he encouraged women to have 10 children. They had to undergo forced, unsanitary monthly gynecological exams at work. If they were pregnant, the state tracked their pregnancy. Birth control and abortions became banned.

- The majority of orphans in the state weren't parentless; they just had parents that couldn't afford them. Most orphans were indoctrinated by the state to become Securitate agents. Others were deemed "deficient” and kept in concentration camp-like conditions.

- It is estimated that about 1 in every 10 people in Romania was an informer at the time. Everyone informed on everyone, and people’s homes were bugged and had hidden cameras in them. It wasn't enough for Ceausescu to isolate the country from the rest of the world; he also had to isolate citizens from each other by creating an atmosphere is mistrust.

- Children of political dissenters were also at risk of being sent to prisons were they were tortured along with adults.

- Citizens went years without ever eating fruit. All of Romania’s “good” agricultural products were exported to pay off the debt Ceausescu plunged the country into with his failed oil investments.

- People never knew when they were going to have electricity. This wasn't just due to energy shortages; it was a strategy of the regime to keep citizens powerless through the unpredictability of their lives. Babies in incubators died at hospitals all the time when the power went out without warning. It was also illegal for temperatures to be heated above 16 degrees in the winter.

- Citizens had to report all contact they had with foreigners. It was illegal to own many items, from foreign currency to sofas to unregistered typewriters.

- Romanians could not leave the country or apply for passports without the risk of being arrested. They also could not choose their own homes, or freely change jobs.

- When Bucharest’s historic buildings were raised and replaced with cement apartment buildings, the dogs that previously lived in the destroyed homes were forced to the streets. As they were starving, they often brutally attacked and killed citizens in packs.

#i must betray you #ruta sepetys #non-fiction #historical fiction #novel #bookblr #book review

23 notes · View notes

world-of-wales · 7 months

Note

hey this might be controversial but what's your thought on tsar nicholas ii? i saw some people particularly the romanov stans basically praise him as saint because the rvsslan orth0d0x church proclaimed him and his family as one. i'm not going to use euphemism, i do think he was a bad leader tho maybe he indeed had other good side as a father and husband. and i read how he was compared to ru55ia's current pres put!n, quoted from the washington post: But as Put!n’s effort to conquer parts of Ukra!ne slogs into its sixth month, some historians feel he more closely resembles Nicholas II, whose 1904-1905 war against Japan was an unmitigated disaster. VP is a dictator and to say the least lol how would you compare these two? i ask you this because i know you're very knowledge on this, at least from the political view, and because you're not (i assume) biased on either side. and sorry for the censors, don't want the key gee bee to knock on your door

Romanov anon hope you are still here, sorry it took me so much time to answer this but here we go. This will annoy a lot of people so putting this below the break since I don't have the energy to deal with anything today. Also this is purely from a political standpoint.

So, I have very conflicting opinions and feelings when it comes to Nicholas and it's kind of funny since both of them are two extremes of a pendulum.

While I have always empathized with what happened to the Tsar and his family. There is a part of me which doesn't seem to like Nicholas. I have always been of the opinion that him and the rulers before him had a very big hand in what eventually happened to them indirectly.

Russia was a broken state when he inherited it, rampant with all problems that you can think of and even from the beginning of his reign the politicial and public opinion had been hostile towards the ruler. And the main cause of this was the autocratic nature of the Russian tsars. They were ultimately the ones with the final say in all decisions in the country. And at a time when people were already suffering the missteps caused by Nicholas proved to be catastrophic and created even more animosity against the tsar's rule.

Talking about the revolution, it didn't just happen one fine day. It was brewing for a long time and the anger people had came out in waves. Now interestingly during the initial waves of revolution, a large section of people were very much ready to compromise with the tsar and his Ministers to establish a more inclusive kind of a governance where they too had a say and to grant them voting rights even if he stayed on. But rather than actually listening to them, Nicholas came under the influence of his Ministers as was usually the case and well we all know what happened.

Now speaking of Nicholas as a ruler, he was a weak ruler and i don't think I can sugarcoat this. When his father passed away, he wasn't ready to take on the role as a tsar. It wasn't because he didn't have the will or had the necessary training. It was simply because he didn't know how to rule. His demeanor played a big role in it too tbh. He was this kind of a gentle and polite person in life and that personality proved to be a challenge when it came to taking hard decisions regarding his court and russia in general. There's actually examples and anecdotes of him not being able to openly come out and give his criticisms or thoughts over certain policy ideas put forward by his courtiers so as not to offend them. Heck he even had problems firing people too from heir positions and often couldn't get himself to tell them openly. Another thing is that he would very easily come under the influence of courtiers and then just go with whatever was being fed to him by them and that never really worked out especially in the precarious situation that Russia was in.

Now having said that, Nicholas was also a kind of a ruler who couldn't for the life of him give up his autocratic behavior. Tsarian autocracy was always a thing yes, but Nicholas didn't understand till what limit he needed to go to make decisions. He had the will needed to rule and that can be seen from him being very involved in every minute aspect of running the kingdom or atleast trying to do that. But what he lacked was the correct direction as a ruler and more importantly having your hands in all the pots never worked out well for anyone. His inability to actually let stuff go was more or less because of the notion that the tsar knows best, he bows down to nobody else etc. This is what ultimately led to his downfall. I have always believed had he actually tried to not be this way maybe the situation would have turned out vastly different.

And this idea that it's the tsar who knows best also led to court political drama since he often tended to dismiss good courtiers if they became too 'popular' of that's the right word to explain the situation and replace them with those who didn't know their head from their feel most of the times. And most importantly at times of crisis Nicholas could not handle the pressure or take concrete steps, I mean look at the way he just changed Prime Ministers during the later stages of his reign to deal with the revolution.

Now having said ALL OF THAT. Was nicholas a good person? Yes, he was and that's quite apparent by the way he was in his private life be it family or just any other aspect of his life. I absolutely appreciate him for the way he was with Alex, being an exceptional husband and father. His demeanor with even those courtiers who he was about to throw out from the court, etc. But all of this can never change the fact that he didn't know how to be a leader. And that's a big cause of what happened. But I'll once again say nothing, absolutely nothing from all this or anything else justifies the way he and his family were so brutally massacred in the end. Nothing will ever justify that.

So in conclusion, I always swing between these 2 aspects while I sympathize with nicholas about what happened, i also blame his political decision making and stands or rather the lack of them for the way the situation deteriorated

#ash's asks #anons #ps

5 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 28 days

Text

Ghostbusters 1984 review: Dickless for 40 Years and Running! (Comissioned by Weird Kev)

Hello all you happy people and welcome to the start of our look at ghost busters! Kev's a fan, i'm a fan, your a literal sentient fan that eats children to survive. We're all fans here.

In 1980 Dan Akroyd drove his car into columbia pictures with a dream.. to make a film about his love of ghosts and since he wouldn't leave they sent director ivan reitman to get him to. Instead Ivan agreed with the dream and agreed to not have columbia pictures, which he was mayor of, to press charges. They then went to get their friend Harold Ramis who was, ironically trapped in the phantom zone and with the help of mon el they freed him and all 4 escaped.

Then they had to spend a year curing MOn El's led poisning but unfortuatnely failed and had ot send him to the future. With their venkman gone, they instead went with Bill Murray, who had just finished up being a consuler at a summer camp by the time the summer of 81 rolled around. They had three but they needed a fourth. So the four set out on an epic quest to find their fourth ghostbuster. So they arrived in Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So they tied an onion to their belts, which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. "Give me five bees for a quarter," you'd say. Now, where were we? Oh yeah, the important thing was they had an onion on their belt, which was the style at the time. They didn't have white onions because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones.

Any ways they soon found ernie hudson but he was in the thrall of the shadow king so to free him Murray winged him real godo with a boot and then a now free enrie threw him into the sun.

With that production began, but soon mysterious murders began just like what happened in woodsburo a few years ago, and bill murray sadly died confronting ghostface. To revivie him our heroes went back in time and managed to save him and unmask ghostface early, but marty mcfly's parents ceased to exist, so they went back again only to make a world ruled by apes. This was satisfactory enough for a while but when the apes decreed ghosts and all depecitons of them banned our heroes went back AGAIN and finally got a timeline that worked well enough. Bill Murray was a transformer now of course and ernie hudson could turn water into flame, but those were okay. Dan Akroyd, who was now a cartoon dog wrote a new draft, the studio loved it and thus ghostbusters was born.

They cast an all star cast: Some Guy as Walter Peck, some other guy as the mayor, Segornye Weaver who had an uneventful year but wasn't about to tell the cartoon dog, and Rick Moranis, who had his own epic quest with best friend and great white north co-star dave thomas to save the world that we'll get to some other day. THe film was a hit, created a franchise and here we are so join me under the cut will ya.

So the film begins with famous outlaws Billy the Kid and Belle Starr rising from the dead. Depsite having died a decade apart and billy having been about 20 and belle 40, they both look middle aged as they plan to rustle cattle, there apparnetly being no beef in the afterlife

We'll deal with that terror as we get our title sequence, as Ray Jay Parker junior.. sorry three old white men sing the ghost busters theme. All three are here KOng, the leader, Spencer, the dumb one dressed like jack napier for some reason and Tracy, the gorilla who wears hats.

Their the ghost busters, they caper after ghosts and work out of an apartment in what could only be new york. So after the opening they have some banter i've blocked out because I want to live and sad to say it hasn't held up well> Speaking of holding up I can't really keep this up so

APRIL FOOLS BITCHES

Yeah bad news, we will not be covering the 1984 classic ghostbusters.. till October. Yeah this is a hell of a way to do it but in october we'll be starting a yearly look at one of the best comedy franchises around, Ghostbusters, starting with the original timeline: Ghostbusters, Ghostbusters II, the video game and the first arc of the idw comic. And possibly a brucey bonus as we have an extra week.

To kick this off we decided to look not at the movies.. but at the OTHER ghost busters... the 1975 live action filmation show starring two guys from f troop and a guy in a gorilla suit who dick around an office, get a call from some guy named zero, and then bust ghosts.

This show is also why the real ghostbusters are called that: Filmation made the BOLD choice to do thier own cartoon based on the 70's show to cash in, Columbia said HELL NO, and since they coudln't get it stopped (It was within filmation's rights) instead named theirs the REAL GHOSTBUSTERS. And it was. We'll look at the other one next year for now let's talk about the live action show

The reason I couldn't hold up the gag is simple: The Ghost Busters... is pain. It is deep hurting. it is grief in telvision form. The Ghost Busters.. is lame. Or, at the very least the episode Kev choose by roulette wheel , they went thataway is. Kev is also now barred from using a randomizer for at least a review or two. Sorry kev.

I thought it might at least have a chuckle, I mean it's a series with a giant gorilla and their chasing cowboys. This had to be at least a LITTLE fun right? right?

I mean ... it was a LITTLE fun as Tracy the gorilla.. is genuinely a delight. He throws a man upside down when he tries cheating him in a coin toss, wears delightful hats, and somehow makes a giant propellor work on a model airlplane. Is the schitch he does all that funny? no. Is he still charming anyway because it's a gorilla? yes. Sadly we do NOT get to see a fake gorilla drive a fake car.

The fact a fake gorilla doing mildly amusing schtick is the only thing this episode did that was remotely amusing should tell you to RUN SAVE YOURSELVES FOR THE LOVE OF GOD RUN. RUN. NEVER LOOK BACK. RUN. RUNNNNNN.

But since you didn't take my warning if your onto this paragraph, let the misery continue: While I can enjoy a corny joke on occasion, The Ghost Busters is the corniest of jokes. It is the lamest of ideas. It is just 20 solid minute of dad jokes without the charm of being told by an actual dad. We get a joke where the cowboys ask if Spencer , the idiot of the group wants to wet his whistle.. AND THEN HE DIPS IT IN WATER. GET IT. GET IT. GET IT. GET IT GET...

Every fucking joke is like that: a pun without any sense of irony or whimsy that makes a pun tolerable.

The actual premise is also just.. not funny. Cowboys want to rustle up cattle because hell apparently has none. Maybe that's why theirs so many delightful 40's cannibals, we don't know. So they want to go cattle rustling but DOHOHOHO THEIRS NO CATTLE IN THE CITY and they make soup but it's warm despite no fire because she LEFT IT ON TWICE AS LONG DOHOHOHO. i'm dying inside because this show is inane DOHOHOHOHO.

I"m.. not exaggerating. I'm a forgiving man: I find the good in most stuff I review even fi I don't like it. I try to be positive: it's why most stuff I review or get comissioned for is stuff that's GOOD. And even the mediocre or bad I can still usually find something but this show has a gorilla with hats and NOTHING else. Kong and Spencer have the "schemer guy and idiot" schtick you've seen a million times. The jokes are trite as hell and were played out in 1975 to the point i'm baffled this came out in the 70's. It was aimed at kids sure but kids aren't THIS stupid. I thought given the gorilla it'd at least be goofy fun or so bad it's good.. but it's just nothing. I'm struggling to find things to say that aren't "I died a little on the inside watching this".

The actual "plot" is paper thin, which is fine for a comedy if it's actually funny. To use a refrence to the good ghostbusters, Meatballs, from the same director, is good. it's also a lot of scenes of dicking around with teens. But the bill murray jokes, his friendship with chris makepiece, the jokes that do work, that makin it dance scene.. it has more than enough to compensate. It also has a truly awful scene I skip every time that acts like consent don't exist.

This is just "dick around with cowboys", "Dick around till they go to get the call from ghost man", dick around with cowboys again" , "Dick around a bit after getting their assigment' , "Dick around and pretend to be cowboys", "Catch ghosts embarassingly easy while billy the kid humps the air". The only clever or notable things are the fact the ghosts randomly age and that Bella gets a happy ending as they at least cooked her a meal first.

So yeah this was 25 minutes of my life i'll never get back. I wish I had more to say but this is just.. nothing. Maybe the dracula or frankenstien episodes have more I don't know, and I don't care. This was a MASSIVE disapointment and hopefully the cartoon willl be better. Thanks for reading.

#ghostbusters #bill murray #ernie hudson #harold ramis #dan arkoyd #the ghost busters #filmation

2 notes · View notes

doodle-pops · 10 months

Note

Hello! I'm back with a discovery I wanna share ˃̵͈̑ᴗ˂̵͈̑..

THIS

https://youtu.be/9PyDbAh1qBI

I'm not really a supporter of annatar x celebrimbor ship coz I'm still angry for what that bish did to my baby.. But this.. This cover.. This reminded me of them but while listening to this cover on repeat gave me an idea.. The troupe is kinda cliché but hear me out..

A bit of a backstory....

Sauron in a guise of a very beautiful elf/maiar named Annatar had his eyes on both Lindon and Eregion with a goal on earning the trust of those who reside there and their leaders, but much to his dismay, it did not go well to his plan as the King of Lindon, Gil galad himself had become wary of him so he moved onto his next target.. Eregion. Not only this place is full of talented smiths and a gifted lord who rules them all but what he also sought in this place is non other than the Lady of Eregion(insert reader), celebrimbor's wife who was known despite of her gentle eyes and pure bright aura, is a smart lady who also have a temper that can rival her husband's fallen grandfather has, she is also a seasoned warrior who fought during the first age. He had always wanted to corrupt this light that the lady has and take her from the start but for the lady, the mere thought of her betraying her kin for power and darkness that she believes will soon be extinguished by the light made her guilty, but what made him more angry is that a certain lowly elf who came from a family of kinslayer managed to crawl his way into her heart

"What a shame" he thinks as the lady had given up on all the fame, reputation, position she has to be a wife of someone who is lower than her. On his mind he can't erase the thoughts on the what ifs that could happen if only she had agreed his proposal and what could they have done with her wits and skills.

The moment he stepped into the beautiful city of Eregion, the lady already had a bad feeling about this so-called "Lord of the Gifts" that despite his bright aura and kind natured persona, something doesn't feel right but couldn't express it to her husband who is delighted and very pleased on this said visitor for what knowledge he would give them so she decided to keep silent and just observe at first..

But she would oh so regret not telling him that..

As the years went on quickly their friendship also grew, This Annatar is the one that he needs, the one who would give him knowledge and power tp craft something new, something much greater that will surpass his grandfather's beautiful gems and will bring greater good to everyone but because of his thirst for knowledge he unknowingly shut the people who deeply cares about him.. Galadriel, Celeborn, even his own wife. He is so focused on what he was doing that he missed all those stares that Annatar had given her.

Until he finally did, Celebrimbor finally opened his eyes on what is happening. The regret and self loathe he had felt for shutting them out and trusting a demon. But it was too late, yes he managed to apologize and fix things between him and his wife/friends, he also managed to make and distribute the three great elven rings to their respective owners. But he is not ready for this war.. To witness the fall of the city he built, his pride and people, but he chose to stand amongst them and defend but was caught, tortured and slaughtered in a inhumane way..

Sorry for that long intro so here we are...

She was angry, mad.. No.. She was enraged and depressed to see the state her husband is in. The soldiers of Eregion(also with the help of their dwarve friends) dragged their lady out despite showing her unwillingness under Celebrimbor's command to protect her. Now she was staying in imladris drowning in her sorrows and the image of her poor husband on her mind. Her friends tries so hard to comfort her and be her solace but despite all of this, it just can't erase this madness inside of her, this anger that she worries that would just erupt if she won't do anything so she had a plan..

Being a (bad bitch and petty woman) smart and cunning woman she is, she wanted to give sauron the taste of his own medicine. So she went to Lindon and discussed with the king, but as she expected he openly and angrily turned her down as her being hurt and dying was the last thing his late friend/cousin wants. But for some reason she had managed to make him agree after some time as he is already worried of Sauron and his powers and this is his last resort for a higher chance of victory (she may or may have not made a powerpoint presentation of this and literally bugged gil galad everyday to listen for the pros of this plan)

(And as I said because she seeks vengeance and also petty) As a young girl, she had always believed the words "Do not do to others what you don't want to be done by you" and her plan is simple. She had always known Sauron's interest in her and used it to his downfall.. She pretended to be weak and drowned with madness and with the help of Gil galad, she managed to pretend that she was now a criminal who took the lives of her own kin out of madness because no one decided to be on her side and that she had no choice but to depend on Sauron which made him glad as not only he had the power that he wants but he also manages to corrupt this lady in front of him.. This went on for years, seducing him, showing that he is only devoted to him, Sauron really thinks that he already had her submit to him and that he has her in the palm of his hands (for some reason she really like playing with fire haha you get it? Fire cause celebrimbor's feänaro's grandchild and sauron is dangerous? Haha well no? Nvm) until the battle of last alliance came and Sauron himself decided to betray her and use her for the last time when she just uno reversed him and told him that she is the one that is being played all along.

In the end when the ring was taken away from him, he realized.. That from the start he was already defeated.. That he was the one who played with fire

OMG SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG AND I GOT LAZY AT THE END I'M SO SORRYYY BUT YEAH I HOPE YOU GOT MY POINT.. I'm not really good with vocabulary as english is not my first language but yeah...

❛ ᗜ❛ ฅ

Don't worry, I'm personally not a fan of the Annatar x Celebrimbor ship at all. I never liked the idea of pairing them, especially after what happened. It never sat well with me.

But I liked this, the whole manipulation game between Annatar and reader mostly. To even attempt to go against Annatar at his own game was such a risky move, but I liked it 💕. Don't worry about your English love, I understood everything >.<

#storytelling 🌙#{abigbench}#silmarillion imagine #celebrimbor x reader #annatar x reader #doodlepops responds

12 notes · View notes

queerregulusablack · 2 years

Note

literally ive been obsessed with Regulus Black since i was like, fourteen years old, and ive always felt so bad about him and everything we know. because also i saw him as a figure head for Voldemort to gather. i mean, he was the heir of an ancient household (and the only heir after Sirius ran away) so i always had Opinions about him as a character.

God god okay alright

This is going to now be All Headcanon because, again, we get Very Little from canon itself, but it's also going to veer into like... Starless Skies lore, so I'll put it under a cut.

Because yeah. The thing that makes the most sense for Regulus being given the Mark at sixteen is that with him, with his very physical and evident joining of Voldemort's cause, he brought with him the loyalty of his family, and to an extent led by example, encouraging other Purebloods his age to do the same.

The Blacks are a part of the Sacred 28, which is already a big thing; but they're also blood relatives to half the other Sacred 28 families. Regulus' maternal grandmother was a Crabb. His aunt, Narcissa's mother, is a Rosier. They're related to the Potters, and the Prewetts, and by the time the first war with Voldemort is happening, two of his first cousins are married into other prominent pureblood families, the Lestranges and the Malfoys.

It is borderline ridiculous how connected Regulus is to the rest of Pureblood wizarding society. And the ones he isn't related to, he shares a school house with; a school in which he's part of the Slug Club, well known to produce witches and wizards of note, which Voldemort himself was a part of, and he's also on the Slytherin quidditch team. The team photo Slughorn has implies that at least once, Slytherin probably did very well in the Cup, so he was probably at least reasonably talented; and we all know how much everyone values talented quidditch players in Hogwarts.

We don't know if he was popular, or particularly social. The way he died implies he may not have been, between his close relationship with his House Elf and the fact he never went to anyone for help. But at a bare minimum we can infer that he was looked up to.

And Regulus is a symbolic leader for the other Pureblood kids in a way that Sirius isn't.

Until he's sixteen, it's Sirius who is the Black Heir, and you could be forgiven for thinking Pureblooded kids would flock to follow in his footsteps; and in some cases, especially for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students, I think it's probably likely that happened. Sirius may have started out a bully, but he was also popular, the same as James.

But personally, I don't think he ever held the same value to Dumbledore that Regulus did to Voldemort; both because Albus Dumbledore never had much use for people he couldn't fully control, and because unlike Regulus, Sirius flouts everything to do with his traditional Pureblood family.

It's suggested he openly goes against all of it even before he ever runs away - in the books he talks about being constantly reminded that Regulus was a 'better son', and it's a short enough jump from that to conclude that Regulus was probably mostly a more obedient son; kept his mouth shut, did as he was told, walked the line of a perfect Pureblood child, because it kept him safe in the home ruled by his mother and the school House filled with other Purebloods who would have already been wary of his ties to his blood traitor brother - and in a house like Slytherin, where you're cunning and careful and survival often means knowing when bravery is stupid, there would be no respect for that.

Sirius joining the Order, even if he'd still been the Black Heir at the time, would never have brought with it an influx of traditional pureblooded sympathisers. He's set himself too much up as the antithesis of everything they believe in.

Regulus joining the Death Eaters would have every hesitant Pureblooded teenager in Slytherin leaning in the same direction; because here is the epitome of everything a Pureblood is supposed to be, clever and ambitious and loyal to his house and his traditions, and if he thinks joining Voldemort is the right thing to do, it must be, right?

(To veer into the Starless Skies lore as promised: Regulus joining the Order wouldn't bring the kids that respect him over either. The problem with the Order, and with Dumbledore especially, is that they've committed themselves so firmly to being the opposite of everything Voldemort is and represents that it means they stand in direct opposition to even the most innocent parts of being a traditional Pureblood.

In Starless Skies so far, Regulus has told both Sirius and James that they need to put an end to the Gryffindor prejudice against Slytherins; because all it's doing is creating year after year of disillusioned, defensive children, who are being told that if they choose the side of their parents and peers, they're monsters; but that's the side that treats them kindly, that promises they want what's best for them, while the other side is full of people who have been looking down their noses at them from the moment they were sorted.

Regulus tells James at one point that 'no one can know anything until they're told'; and while it's not entirely that simple all of the time, there's enough truth in it here. No one tells the kids in Slytherin that they have another option. Not in the first war, not in the second; because Draco Malfoy doesn't take the Dark Mark because he has a choice. He takes it because his father is in prison, and there's a genocidal maniac living in his house, and how the hell is he supposed to survive or keep his mother safe unless he proves himself as invaluable to the maniac in question?

In the Astronomy Tower Dumbledore talks about 'knowing a boy who made all the wrong choices'; but there are no choices for the kids in Slytherin. There's their family, and their friends, and there's the people who openly hate and suspect them all because an old hat decided they were cunning, or ambitious. That's not a choice. Not when you're sixteen.)

So when Regulus takes the Dark Mark, he's reconfirming what they already knew; this isn't just the best option, it's the only one. And if Voldemort is willing to welcome the teenage Heir to one of the most important Pureblood families in Britain into his inner circle, well. He must really value them after all. Right?

#regulus black #about regulus #owl post #headcanon #concerning qrabs fic #this got looooong lmao #placeholder ghost tag

48 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 2 months

Text

In August 1958, Charles de Gaulle, who had just returned to power in France, set off on a tour of his country’s sub-Saharan African colonies. His purpose was to present them with a plan to join France in a new kind of “community.” Paris would continue to control what it called “state services,” which included defense, monetary matters, customs, as well as media and communications. A new quasi-limited autonomy, meanwhile, would more or less allow African countries to manage their domestic affairs and to carry the costs, once largely borne, by France of doing so.

De Gaulle presented the novel scheme under a veneer of magnanimity. Via a planned referendum, its African possessions would be given the liberty to accept or reject his community. This offer did not come without a warning though. There would be no debate, only an up or down vote, and any colony that rejected the proposition would face secession from France “with all its consequences.”

It was not long before the world learned what this meant in practice. When de Gaulle visited Guinea the following month, that colony’s leader, Ahmed Sékou Touré, spoke defiantly to a crowd as the French statesman looked on. “We do not and never shall renounce our legitimate right to independence,” he said. This angered De Gaulle, who canceled a planned dinner with Touré that night and disinvited him to fly together on his presidential plane to nearby Senegal the next day. Yet these were but the merest hints of the consequences to come.

After de Gaulle had returned home to Paris, he ordered the immediate withdrawal of the thousands of the French civil servants who had made the colony’s bureaucracy run and staffed its clinics and schools. And before they flew home, many of the French workers engaged in an orgy of petty destructiveness, smashing furniture, trashing official records, breaking equipment, and even shattering lightbulbs.

What happened back then in Guinea is one of most famous episodes in an inglorious history of French colonial rule and domination over large parts of West and Central Africa, but it is only a single chapter in a very long story. Guinea is a better place than most to begin a discussion of this topic because in the 1880s and 1890s, the era of rapid French imperial expansion in the region, it was the site of a fierce campaign by Paris to subdue local political rulers, seize control over gold and other natural resources, and extend France’s authority over new territories.

The most famous of these leaders was a man named Samory Touré, who ruled over a polity called the Wassoulou Empire. Its core was in the Guinea highlands, and to France’s great frustration, it sometimes fielded armies numbering as many as 35,000 soldiers. When his empire was finally subdued just before the close of the century, Touré was exiled to an island in Gabon, a faraway equatorial colony (now country), where he died.

France is of course not the only European country to have ruled over Africans, but its history is unique for its persistence, its geographic spread, and its adaptability. A struggle for independence in Algeria, then a large North African French settler colony, brought down France’s Fourth Republic and threatened a civil war in the heart of Europe in 1958, the same year as de Gaulle’s sub-Saharan tour. That is because of the fantastical claim by the rebellious French general, Raoul Salan, that Algeria was actually a physical part, or geographical extension of France. “The Mediterranean traverses France the way the Seine traverses Paris,” Salan claimed.

In the wake of events in Guinea and Algeria, when other Black African figures began to push for more autonomy than de Gaulle had envisioned, or worse, for outright independence, bad things tended to happen to them. A little remembered anti-colonialist figure from Cameroon named Félix-Roland Moumié, for example, was assassinated by French agents whose actions anticipated the dark methods of Vladimir Putin. They poisoned him with radioactive thallium in Geneva in 1960.

More than 60 years later, there is a remarkable uprising against French influence underway in the Sahel, one of the African regions where French domination has been most thorough over the decades. One after another, the leaders of three states in this semi-arid region—Niger, Burkina Faso, and Mali—have spoken out against French sway in West Africa and moved to reduce or eliminate the presence of French soldiers, corporations, and diplomats in their countries. In doing so, they have blamed Paris for a host of problems, ranging from a long-running but ineffective and often disruptive French-led campaign to contain the spread of Islamic insurgencies in the Sahel, to interference in their domestic politics, to profiteering from starkly unequal economic ties.

In stiff rebuffs of France, these three landlocked countries, which rank among the poorest in the world, have sometimes welcomed a larger role for Russia, both in helping bolster their internal security and in the extraction of mineral wealth like the gold and uranium in their soils. And with Russia (as with France for so long) these two things often go together.

They have also hinted at ending cooperation with France on controlling the northward flow of African migration across the Sahara toward Europe. And they have been discussing exiting a long-standing monetary union and currency, the CFA franc, which was created by France prior to independence mostly as a way of sustaining French exports in the region. African critics of the CFA franc have long said that it perpetuates French domination, in part through its historic requirement that member countries of the union deposit their foreign reserves with the French treasury. The three states are even discussing establishing a new Sahelian currency to replace the CFA.

The military president of Niger, Abdourahmane Tchiani, has called for France to pay damages to longtime African client states like his for years of what he has likened to looting. In Burkina Faso, next door, another military leader, Ibrahim Traoré, has vowed never to allow his country to be dominated by Europeans again.

In so strongly calling into question relations with France, these three Sahelian countries have captured the imagination of millions of Africans living in other former French colonies and beyond, including in wealthier coastal states, whose official relations with France so far have not been seriously disrupted. To the clear chagrin of French President Emmanuel Macron, though, this has come to feel increasingly like a major reckoning.

Some in France have long seen this coming. In an interview in 2007, his last year in power, former French President Jacques Chirac said as much. “Don’t forget one thing, and that is that a large portion of the money that we have in our purses comes precisely from the exploitation of Africa over the centuries … So we need a little measure of good sense, I didn’t say generosity, but good sense, and justice to render to Africans, I would say, what we took from them. This is necessary if we want to avoid the most severe turmoil and difficulty, with all of the political consequences that this will bring in the near future.”

In fairness to France, with all there is to criticize, its entire legacy in sub-Saharan Africa has not been uniformly abysmal. France once oversaw the construction of large infrastructure projects in its African colonies and clients—major ports, railroads, and highways. Part of the current anger toward this former colonial power is that it has largely exited this business, ceding the realm of big projects to China.

A few of France’s former colonies, Ivory Coast in particular, are well developed by the standards of the region. Even the much-criticized CFA franc has not been thoroughly bereft of benefits, hence its staying power. The relationship with France, and through Paris, with the European Union, has long kept the CFA convertible and relatively stable, if typically overvalued—affecting the balance of trade by making these countries exports expensive and imports, notably from the Eurozone, cheaper.

Surveying Africa below the Sahara in its entirety, though, it is hard to avoid the impression that France’s former colonies generally trail their former British colony counterparts in economic development, in democratic governance, and in political stability. And this is no paean to British colonial rule or influence, which gradually dissipated after independence.

But even if one wishes to take the most benign view of colonialism and capitalism in Africa, it is hard to argue that France has done nearly enough to help foster development in its former possessions or usher them more fully into the global economy. And to some extent, this stands to reason. France, at best, is a medium-size country with a matching economy. These attributes stand in disproportionate relation to Paris’s grand and long-standing ambition of buttressing its own stature in the world by clinging to the reins of neocolonial power in the continent to the south. Africa’s galloping demographic growth makes the absurdity of this mismatch more evident by the year.

On one level, the ongoing uprising against Paris in the Sahel can be understood as a cynical ploy using populism to sustain the political power of military elites in states that have been flirting with failure for years. But there is something much more interesting going on.

There is another challenge being posed by the leaders of Burkina Faso, Mali, and Niger that is likely to be far more impactful over time: they are challenging other African countries—both French and English speaking—to tear down the barriers that cripplingly divide them. More than a century ago, Europe “broke” the continent by subdividing it into cookie cutter-shaped countries, many of them small and landlocked.

Deeper African unity and federation is a dream with a surprisingly long pedigree. This was the cry of African intellectuals like J.E. Casely Hayford, in the former Gold Coast, now Ghana, early in the 20th century. More famously, it was also the obsession of Ghana’s first president, Kwame Nkrumah. Less well-remembered, this was also the cause of Barthélemy Boganda, the early leader of the Central African Republic, who hoped to federate French-speaking countries in that part of the continent under a proposed United States of Latin Africa.

What remains certain today is that a start toward the greater prosperity and well-being that all Africans yearn for will only come when these divides are eradicated, and outsiders can’t do this for them. Anger towards France is only useful if it becomes a catalyst for greater agency by Africans, who build their own regional currencies, construct their own regional rail and highways, and constitute political and economic unions that exist on more than paper.

2 notes · View notes

silverloreley · 2 years

Text

Wait a second...

So this is page 37 from “Auradon’s book of secrets“ (thanks @fortitudinem for the scans) and, uh, this is the only info I came across about the actual origins of Auradon so far (the earlier part of the book has something too, but this is very specific so it caught my attention).

We could consider the webseries “Villains’ Lair“ the prequel for Descendants, or at least a plausible recostruction of the events. It’s a story in which the Villains, after mysteriously escaping from death’s clutches/ are revived, decided to tamper with time, perhaps managing (the webseries is ongoing) but (will be) ultimately defeated by the Princess’ Academy girls + their princes, and it could make a lot of sense as Descendants’ prequel.

Okok, I’ll elaborate.

If you talk about a rebellion, it means a group not in power going against the ones in power. This means, at a certain point, Maleficent was the actual leader of the world (page 45 talks about “Maleficent’s takeover”!!!), along with the other Villains who had formed an alliance (like in Villains’ Lair, but with Maleficent as the official lead).

This means the Heroes fought after training with the system later developed as the game of Tourney. Which could have happened in “Princess Academy” (the parallel yet shorter webseries to V’L, perhaps the origin of Auradon Prep?).

This means, by the time this rebellion happened, all the stories had been completed (or rewritten according to the will of the Villains, like in “Cinderella: A Twist in Time” but for all of them). (this also would give time for all the minors in the stories to become adults and get married at an appropriate age, but that’s another matter).

This also means a big scale fight happened between Heroes and Villains. This is no small thing because it would mean there was no such thing as Beast deciding to move war and annex all his neighbours, it could have more easily been that they all fought together, formed a large alliance and once defeated the enemy someone (BatB) came up with the idea of uniting their lands for a better development and defense.

The Isle was corollary: since the dead Villains came back from death once, they could do it again, so they needed to be restrained in a more effective way. The fact they may end up having children was not accounted for, the only thing the Barrier did was to prevent the Villains from 1)using magic, 2)escaping, 3)dying and be revived outside therefore foiling points 1 and 2.

Now, I already thought this last bit before (although my best guess so far was that they were trying to prevent necromancy and similar things) and I stand it makes sense. It doesn’t explain the large population of the Isle, though, not in full, unless we add a few more bits.

In folklore, fairies think by absolutes. Black or white, this or that, good and bad, they just have their own moral code and rules and never change their minds. We know Fairy Godmother was the main (if not the only) maker of the Barrier and I think the moving of the Villains to the Isle could have not been done by normal means. Magic was used, a huge spell to teleport all Villains from every corner of Auradon to the Isle. Except it worked too extensively and took mean-spirited people (Cinderella’s step-family), more or less innocent minions (the goblins, trolls, people under Jafar’s paybook...), major and minor criminals, even animals! (Scar, Shere Khan, Iago,...) etc. aka every being a fairy would deem “not good“, and this despite the eventual redemption some of them underwent (Iago and Anastasia in the sequels, LeFou in the live action,...).

What am I saying? That maybe the metas depicting Beast and Belle as the evil overlords who conquered it all are a tad off from canon, especially if the same stories don’t take into account Fairy Godmother’s involvement.

Now, that’s not to say Auradon isn’t under a very strict monarchic system, it is (please don’t use “fascism” to define it, the two things are different) Auradon is an absolute monarchy that uses propaganda like any other ruling system in history (the basis of fascism and nazism are different and I wish people would start to learn proper terminology before using it. “colonialism” is also wrong in this context for the reason mentioned above) and it’s perfectly fine to give this kind of reading to the main plot in fanfics, exploring the themes and expand ideas is one of my favourite things about fanfictions, just as long as you realize this diverges from canon. Canon which has fantasy racism and children neglect and other dark themes, I’d like to add.

One more thing about the Barrier. I think the spell has one more use other than keeping the Villains alive and powerless: a form of brainwashing, aimed at mellowing the worst traits of the Villains, otherwise it would be hard to explain how clever and smooth Jafar became blumbering and loud, how elegant and controlled Maleficent turned jumpy and excitable or how the smart and poised Evil Queen is a botox-dead-brain. And so forth. I know the Doylist explanation is that Descendants is aimed at kids, but that’s my Watsonian explanation to the downgrade of Villains.

#disney descendants #analysis #auradon lore

67 notes · View notes

bear-of-mirrors · 1 year

Text

Not seeing anyone who wants to say it, so I’ll say it. The reason why most western, non-Jewish leftists view the world in a binary morality system (those who supported “tank communism” during the Cold War, those who whitewash Joseph Stalin today, those who ignore what is happening to the Uyghurs in China, and those who praise Putin and Russia’s imperial war while demonizing Ukraine) have that binary morality because of the impact of Xtian cultural hegemony due to that religion constantly reinforcing the idea that there IS a binary morality.

Western colonialism and imperialism is bad, therefore anyone who opposes a western power is universally, 100% good. Because the West is colonial and imperialist, that means that when we talk about imperialism we never talk about Japan or anyone that’s not European and certainly never Old World Imperialism. Because the West has done these things, anyone who is against the West is on the side of the angels and anything said against them is capitalist propaganda. It doesn’t matter that Russia today is no longer communist or that it’s ruled by a fascist dictator and is increasingly oppressing lgbt people and dissidents (just like the USSR did, but they don’t talk about that either). It doesn’t matter that it is still illegal to be queer in China or that there is a genocide happening to the Uyghur population. They oppose American interests/European interests, therefore they’re the good guys, right?

Like. It all is traceable back to Xtianity’s efforts to create people with “faith like a child” that has bled into how western culture views morality in general. A child sees the world in black and white because that’s all they can do. There’s evil, so good opposes it. That’s how things work in children’s stories and in escapist fantasy stories for adults. For the children’s stories, whether religious-based or not, that binary is there because they’re for children who are young and not mature enough for nuance of the grey and complexity of the real world. For adult fantasy stories, it’s for escapism from a world that can be so hard to deal with and handle at times that you need a break (though even Tolkien regretted that he didn’t find a way to give complexity to the Orcs instead of portraying them as Always Chaotic Evil). But the problem of Xtian Cultural Hegemony in regards to morality is that that particular infection sees non-Jewish (I should really rather say leftists that do not belong to a religious minority in the West) Leftists in the West never grow out of that childish mindset about the world and the problems in it.

The Soviet Union toppled the Russian Empire and the Tzars, but it also chose Joseph Stalin as a leader and his brutality cast a shadow over every single communist movement that followed his ascent to power. The Soviet famines, like the Holodomor, that were implemented under Stalin’s watch because he didn’t appoint any agricultural experts to oversee land reform but only flunkies directly led to China trying the exact same kind of land reform on its own, and that led to famines there too. But the Soviet Union opposed capitalism! Yes, and it also signed the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact that saw it forcibly annex western Poland and the Baltic states, while turning over German communists that lived in the Soviet Union due to having to flee Germany to escape the Nazis and also saw Stalin order world communist movements to stop spreading anti-fascist rhetoric.

Like. There are wide ranging complexities in regards to world events and powers and nations and people. Very very rarely is it a binary. And certainly never in the way this particular brand of leftists want. Like, yeah I’m a communist myself, but I don’t go pulling shit like trying to say the USSR was great cause it got near-100% literacy for it’s population while I ignore the fact that it always locked up dissidents of all ages (yes, that includes idealistic teenagers who had study groups to talk about how to reform the CPSU) whether in gulags, prisons, or mental asylums, nor that it had institutional antisemitism (since communism can’t get rid of the prejudices people have from before).

Tldr: many non-religious minority leftists in the West have an awful and inaccurate binary morality in their world views directly due to Xtian Cultural Hegemony.

#thoughts from a jewish decepticon #leftist discourse #western leftists #christian hegemony #Xtian hegemony #politics #western politics

26 notes · View notes

lledra-fanstuffs · 1 year

Text

Title: Purpose Summary: Wandering thoughts plague Crosshair as he readies for another mission. Word Count: 1,112

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

Outside is the cold, and inside are the rules. Outside has the endless waves, and inside has the repeating pain. There is no beyond where we belong. A place of peace where we can dream. For here is Home. Home is where we have each other. Home is where there’s fragile peace. Home is where we get to live. Before we’ll die on a battlefield.

What do you do when you’re the different one?

The different one among the different ones.

Sure they’d make fun of Tech and his brains, but those brains came in handy more often than they liked. That fact was always made worse by being sure Tech was then all high and mighty about himself even if he didn’t always say it. His eyes always gave it away.

Or maybe that was projection.

Best to not dwell on it.

Wrecker, the big lug, was obviously great at moving things. Also great for a laugh. While he wasn’t as brainy as Tech, he was far far smarter than most would expect. But you had to get to know him. See him. Most didn't put in that time. They hardly put in that time sometimes. Thankfully over years, they’d seen those brains enough to know they were there. They knew their brother wasn’t dumb. But sometimes…

Sometimes…

His antics could still be too much.

Then there was Hunter. A tracker. Sure he had other skills too, but being able to follow bunnies in a forest was a teasable way of putting it. In reality he was a good leader. Or at least as good as any of them could be if any of them wanted to apply themselves to it. But Hunter was the go-getter. The “cheerleader” as other people on other worlds in other situations might put it. He’d grown into the role. And they’d let him. They would argue and he would argue with him when the time was right. But nearly every time, no matter the arguing, no matter the groaning, they’d get the job done.

Because he had the good ideas.

And because he would also listen to them.

Hunter preferred group effort over trying to angle himself as being the best.

And that’s why they’d let him be the leader. Because they each knew they’d be bad at that part.

Echo… Echo was a Reg. Which meant he had to be good at everything and could only truly stand out by his own hard work and merits. There wasn’t a thing that made him him. He just was. A whole. Or… well.. Whole-ish. Considering everything that had happened.

Still. Echo was Echo. A Reg, but not. He was more now, by having less of himself. The ordeals he’d gone through. Everything.

In a way that’s what made Echo intimidating. Hearing him talk about his brothers. It was always so different than them. Hearing that they’d had talk of a future beyond the war? That they’d wonder what would happen to them? That they’d had, even senseless, talks of wives and or husbands, or dressing how they wanted.

Hearing they had dreams?

It’s so unfamiliar.

So alien.

But even then. Echo still fit with them. No… he fit with them.

Walking down the silent hall, Crosshair’s footfalls gently echoed. Somewhere ahead, and somewhere behind there were troopers walking. Others were talking. But here, in this moment. It was only him on his own.

This never would have happened before. His brothers would be waiting for him. Even obnoxiously so when he was coming out of the fresher.

“You didn’t have to come here for me.”

“HA! Had to make sure you didn’t need any help.”

Wrecker… the world was too quiet without him.

With a sharp shake of his head he continued down the hall. Passing troopers who he knew eyed him from under their helmets. Yet not one would say a word. The ones who did would only refer to him by rank, and then their voice would make it clear that they were no Clone.

It was easier to think of what his brothers were missing. By not being here with him. He knew the roles they each fit into. Knew what each was good at. Knew what he was good at.

And as he entered his room, and began to change and don his gear, he paused upon seeing his helmet. A sick, and twisted knot that squirmed and hissed inside his chest flared up as if poked by a red hot stick.

Why hadn’t he just left with them?

He was fucking miserable.

No. He was doing good. He had a duty to do. He had a job to do.

He had a job, a task that he was kriffing made for, and he was going to do it until he DIED!

The sound of his tired sigh was barely audible in his silent room. Why weren’t they here with him? They’d be together? They’d always been together… Even when Wrecker was hurt, they all crowded his medical bed and had stayed with him.

They’d always broken the rules and made themselves as uncomfortable as needed to be there for each other.

Until now.

Picking up his helmet he stared at the visor. Looking at his grim expression before donning it.

Why hadn’t he left with them?

Because while Tech had his brains, Wrecker had his empathy and strength, Hunter his leadership, and Echo his ability to do a bit of everything, especially hacking…

What did he have?

What mighty and unique gift did he himself have?

He had his steady hands.

Which let him kill.

He was a killer.

The best shot of them all. He’d argue of any of the Clones made. That was his thing.

So what does the best killer in the greatest army do out there?

Nothing.

You do nothing out there.

Your usefulness ends.

Your purpose for existing. Ends.

With an aggravated breath intended to try to clear his head, Crosshair exited out of his room. His stride carried him swiftly down the halls. His posture and steps making it clear he didn’t want to be messed with or bothered.

Was it worth it? Having a purpose but being alone?

Was it still worth it after hearing of more Clones defecting? Or hearing of ones who began questioning their orders and subsequently disappeared or were arrested?

It had to be.

Because as Tech said this was his nature. What was the point of fighting it?

What was the point of fighting it if they weren’t going to help fight for him?

He was a killer who they left behind.

They knew it, and he did too.

#TBB #tbb crosshair #the bad batch #it's been a long time since I've tried to write something #so sorry if this is covered in a thick layer of rust

12 notes · View notes