#also we’re such a large majority that it’s not like we’re in danger of being left out lol
Text
be your hallowed ground
Demon!Ezra x F!Reader
summary: 1700’s. the journey home before you is long, weary, and you are alone… but not for long
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. colonial era inspired AU, inexperienced!reader, religiously raised reader, historical/societal period negative views of women, major supernatural elements, religious discussions along with Christian imagery & mentions of scripture, Ezra’s use of petnames, heavy corruption kink, possessive!Ezra, finger sucking, wound kissing and one small moment of blood consumption, Ezra lifts reader with his demon strength (reader has no physical description), intense kissing & spicy moments, f!oral receiving, light overstimulation, briefest mention of Ezra watching/stalking, sacrilegious themes, dark & spooky vibes
word count: 7.9k
a/n: so this is my first Ezra fic & i blame this AU on my ex catholic school kid roots along with playing too much cult of the lamb bcs here we are lol I wouldn’t be here without the ones who paved the way/inspired me to take the jump to write Ezra so thank you @morallyinept @julesonrecord & @lowlights for being true lovely guides, also to @pastelle-rabbit @haylzcyon & @ahauntedcowboy for letting me scream/cry about this lol I love each & every one of y’all - and to you, if you decide to take a peek and read, thank you so much ♡
The forest stretches out far, daunting.
Twilight glimmers on the last of her heels and you hope to return home soon. You can almost hear your father’s anger at your stubbornness for not staying at the inn for another night and for simply being on this journey in the first place. You should’ve saved up for a carriage ride home.
Now, alone in the woods, you fear the tree branches will soon reach down to claw you into their canopy cluster above.
Deeper and further you walk through the forest path. You haven’t prayed much recently. But you faintly remember words urging you to not fear the terror of night, nor the danger that prowls in the darkness, and you’re gently eased. You also think of the early spring blooms scattered among the town waiting for you.
Then a branch cracks behind you, the sound of someone stepping on it, and you stop.
The trek has been silent, eerily so. Not even bird chirps or the wind’s breeze has filled your space. Yet it now sounds like something approaches.
You whip around.
No one stands behind you. Only the dirt and dust linger in the air.
The woods must be clouding you with unnecessary dread. You’ve walked these roads alone before and you will walk them again even though the forest seems darker now.
Determined, and slightly frightened, you spin on your heels to quickly return on your journey.
“There you are, turtle dove.”
The voice startles you so suddenly you almost collapse. Strangely accented, the thick drawl flows heavy with a twang of someone from the wild southern territories.
Your heart beats fast like a petrified rabbit and your eyes snap towards the source of the voice.
Leaning against a large tree is the most exquisite man you ever believe to be crafted.
Dressed in a striking coat, a beautifully sharp nose and dark facial hair, he’s ethereal. You also spot the most interesting tuff of white blonde hair against his dark chestnut locks. What’s startling are his magnetic inky eyes staring at you.
“I don’t know you, good sir.” You politely reply.
The man smiles like a fox creeping around a chicken coop.
“Ezra is my given name, turtle dove. Now we’re no longer strangers.”
His name - Ezra.
Like his name suggests you wonder if maybe he’s here to provide aid, your personal blessing.
Yet his words flutter out duplicitous and heavy like something dangerous chains around them down.
“Then good day to you, sir.” You nod, a polite reply, and decide to withhold your name.
“May I accompany you on your journey?” He suggests surprisingly gentle, his words olive branch-like offers.
You ask him where he is even headed, and for what brings a well speaking, slightly suspicious, man as himself into these woods.
“The same as you, sweet bird,” Ezra replies simply. “We all have our journeys to be upon. Mine just happens to coincide with yours. A rather fortuitous blessing if I do say so myself.”
Your eyes narrow. Something scratches at the back of your mind urging you to keep walking and pay no heed to this man.
But then the wind picks up.
From a soft breeze it quickly transforms into the strangest howl, like a warning of the dangers lurking all around. In a slight panic your eyes survey your surroundings. This man might be a stranger, but having company might not be such a bad choice.
“Come now.” Ezra comments reassuring and steady even among the howling winds. “These woods are wild and deep, ain’t no place for a treasure such as yourself.”
He is handsome, the most stunning man you may ever see. And the glimmer in his eyes seems to beckon you.
After you quietly nod, your journey expands by one.
With a gracious bow of his head, the man from the shadows falls into step beside you.
The wind suddenly, but thankfully, settles. However, tension prickles against your skin and a strange warmth blooms from the center of your chest.
“So, what’s a lovely angel like yourself doing here, a babe in the woods?” Ezra begins.
Your fingers tighten against your cloak while the truth stays sealed tight.
The man chuckles.
“Don’t go shy on me now, sweet dove,” he teases.
You huff annoyed. However, seeing as how you will be traveling with him until you return home, you decide to engage with him.
Your dearest friend moved to the next town when you both became fully grown. She fell in love with a married man in a loveless marriage to a cruel woman. Because of that your friend was condemned to banishment. Now, she’s with child. Some even whisper the child was maybe even convinced due to witchcraft.
However, with the recent passing of your town’s relentless head clergyman, you hope this will help improve the situation.
Ezra listens patiently, letting you quietly explain everything.
“And so you traveled to visit your dear friend like a kind emissary.” He notes. “Your town must be in an uproar over you visiting her.”
“They are.” You answer stiffly.
Your father absolutely detests it. Even the governor’s son, who has shown interest in courting you, has made it known that your lenient position doesn’t help towards a marriage possibility. But you won't falter in your loyalty. Especially after your faith has been so shaken from seeing the harsh treatment given to your friend.
“A fair decision.” Ezra agrees. “All those upset are fools anyway. Seems they forgot the good book even mentions how cherished a gift it is to forgive others just as the lord forgives us.”
He quotes scripture so passively it surprises you. He doesn’t seem like a spiritual type. If anything, Ezra seems like a man who slinks around the shadows late at night among the thieves and brothels hidden at the edge of town.
“You’re right,” you agree with him. “Who are we to judge others on simple matters of passion compared to our lord, especially to condemn it?”
“Lust is considered a grave sin though, dear birdie, so I understand why.” He quietly answers while his words scurry over your skin. “After all, look at the predicament it entangled your dear friend in.”
“And don’t passions of the flesh wage war against the solemnity of the soul?” Ezra politely answers lightly referring to scripture and you wonder if he is a man devoted to the good book.
So you reserve your words again.
“Please… do not silence your song, biride.” Ezra coos.
“Now, tell me your thoughts,” he whispers low.
As you swallow hard, your skin feels tight against your bones. But you decide to speak freely, as dangerous as it may be.
“It’s true that my friend committed a terrible sin.” You begin with a shaky sigh. “I understand her punishment. But for others to be so cruel when faith says to forgive and embrace salvation feels hypocritical.”
“True indeed. And as you said, all this for the sake of condemning passion? There are worse commandments to shatter under heaven’s watchful eye.” Ezra drawls out.
“Exactly.” You agree with a firm nod more at ease with your new companion.
“Besides… isn’t the act of creation an offspring of passion?” He challenges and the thought stuns you.
The stranger is correct and his perception moves you.
You’ve never engaged in such discussions like this with anyone before, especially not with a man. You noticed he speaks to you like an equal, never diminishing your ideals or fully trampling on your opinions.
Something greedy urges you to slow down your step and spend as much time with your new companion.
“So, is there a husband of yours waitin’ at home to meet you with passions, dear dove?” Ezra asks with the curl of intrigue in his voice and you almost choke on a gasp.
“A rather forward question to ask a stranger.” You snap back sharply and glare at him.
Ezra keeps his abyss eyes drawn forward and doesn't seem bothering at your reply or the discussion matter he brought up.
“Thought we established we’re no longer strangers?” Your stranger mutters back.
“We’ve discussed religion, the ways of the hearts and their passions. Only good friends touch on such topics, yes?”
He’s unbearably confident, and he knows it. You want to storm off, maybe even demand him to leave. But you can’t do it. You almost can’t endure the thought of him leaving now.
So you reply stiffly. “No. I have no husband at home.”
“Truly?” He now squawks confused.
“Ain’t that a damn shame.” He purrs. “A creature lovely as yourself deserves to be worshiped every minute you’re here among this green earth.”
Your heart thumps erratic against its cage.
“Are you mocking me, good man Ezra, for not being married?” You deflect with a shaky voice.
“Never, turtle dove.” He reassures. “I believe the ultimate sin is to be denied any shade of passion.”
“Especially for a beauty marvelous as yourself.” He exhales and his voice dances devilishly.
An uneasiness settles into your legs, like your body could give out at any moment.
“What you say is blasphemy,” you manage to reply, however your voice wavers. “A heathen's words.”
“I could’ve recounted the same about you moments ago when you spoke your thoughts.” He mutters back.
Your heart drops. He’s correct. This man has your thoughts tied up in so many knots and you cannot find a path within yourself.
“No need to worry.” Ezra says. “Treading into heathen’s territory is never frightful when you have a companion.”
You don’t know how you feel about this conversation or where it seems to be heading towards. Your gaze turns to Ezra. He continues staring ahead composed.
He’s a strange unorthodox man, an anomaly, someone you never believed existed.
“Now tell me… have you tasted desire, my sweet turtle dove?”
His eyes now move to you, catching you staring red handed. Like an exposed thief, your gaze flies away from him.
His question, as if composed of thorns, constricts around your throat refusing to let you answer.
You’ve tasted it on the tips of your tongue. One of your old childhood friends became a courtesan at a brothel. During her nights off, you’d sneak out to visit her. She recounted with giggles about the various sexual escapades she’s experienced. It made your mouth water wishing for the embrace of a lover, to understand what it meant to be truly desired.
You’ve been tempted to fall into bed with the blacksmith’s brother but once you discovered his cruel treatment of the women in town you were soured by the thought. So during the late nights alone your fingers slipped under the quilts and you would find a sticky taste of passion.
Getting caught up in your thoughts keeps you quiet.
“When I was a younger man and lived in France.” Ezra begins with a sudden gentle musing, the voice of a storyteller almost. “Even when I migrated here to the southern territories, I learned of an interesting turn of phrase.”
“La petite mort.” The words flow from him beautifully, rolled with such finessed precision. Hearing him speak sparks a jolt up your spine.
“I’m not quite sure you know of it, but do you know what it means?”
Your eyes that had glazed over are now back on Ezra. His devastatingly beautiful face remains serene.
“The literal translation is ‘a little death.’” Ezra continues. “But what it speaks of is the little moment of feeling as if you’re dying when experiencing true orgasmic release, something that makes us see god.”
His words, hanging with a thinly concealed desire, rip through you and a slickness slowly pools between your legs.
Now his eyes flicker to you.
“A pleasure so rapturous we taste a little death.” He mutters looking so intently at you that you want to scurry and hide away.
But you can’t. You’re drawn into his gaze, a poor moth entrapped by his erratic flame, and you’re not quite sure if this fire is hellfire.
Rationale within you screams this man could be a robber or could be leading you into his sticky web to simply harm you. Yet it seems like he could vanish into smoke.
You also notice you and Eza have both stopped walking. Now staring into his eyes, you discover storms in them.
Until an oncoming storm arrives all around. The wind erupts into howls. It whips around fast and you tug your cloak closer trying to stay warm against the gales.
Your face even scrunches up at the drastic change in the weather.
A firm hand moves to your back pulling you closer until you rest within the shade of a firm body. Ezra has drawn you into his side, lifting his cloak to cover you, and your eyes become full moons.
“To keep you sheltered from this weather. Though, we may need to hunt for some sanctuary soon.” He mutters.
He smells of pine, like the forest itself gave him to you. However you also catch the smallest hint of something smoky, like he slept too close to a campfire.
But, his words confuse you.
“Terrible weather? It’s simply just bad wind.” You yell against the wind and glance around the forest.
That’s when you notice how terrifyingly dark it’s gotten. The tree branches now stretch above like monstrous limbs crawling along the darkness.
How long have you been out along the trail? You haven’t even reached the halfway point to town. The woods now loom incredibly dark like a chasm ready to swallow you whole.
Then the drum of thunder comes, and the skies open up, as if on command by Ezra’s prophetic words. The rain unleashes a downpour. You squawk like a petrified bird at how soaked you’re getting even being covered by his coat.
“Come!” He cries over the storm keeping you close. “I believe there is shelter close by.”
So through the darkness you go, led by him off the path and deeper into the thicket.
How did he know a shelter was nearby? Shouldn’t he have come here earlier and left you on your journey? Or did he maybe sense the storm was coming and wanted to keep accompanying you.
The rush of the rain along with how quickly Ezra moves you and him feels as if you’re flying through the forest like your feet never once touch the ground.
Your body stops and out from the darkness, among the rain, stands the faint shape of a building.
Ezra guides you inside and you exhale relieved you’re out of the storm.
The stale smell of dust greets you first and makes your nose crinkle.
Looking out to your new makeshift shelter, you find yourself standing in a very abandoned church. Dried dead leaves scatter the floor. Vacant pews hold a hollow ghostly emptiness. You didn’t even know this chapel was here.
“How did you know of this place-” you turn to ask Ezra but discover you’re alone.
So focused on soaking in the church you didn’t even notice his departure.
“Ezra?” You call for him and silence replies.
Where could he have gone?
“Worry not.” Ezra’s voice floats out an echo. From the side of the sacristy, beside the main congregation hall, he emerges.
How did he get there without you noticing?
In his grasp is a lit candle. The flames create interesting shadows upon his handsome face as his molten eyes stare at you.
“Apologizes,” he reassured you with the ease of a saint. “Went to scavenge for some light.”
“Seems you were unsuccessful.” You dryly tease, walking towards where Ezra stands at the front of the congregation.
A slight tug of amusement comes over his heavenly face.
“We shall make camp here until the storm quells.”
No better place to find sanctuary than in a chapel, even though this one has seen better days.
Outside the wind continues rattling the windows while the rain creates a soothing melody. Yet, there is an emptiness here, like you can’t sense any sacred spirit within these walls. You wonder if the Lord maybe has even abandoned this space.
“Come rest with me, turtle dove.” Ezra beckons to you as he sits casually on the floor up besides the altar.
“You can’t sit there!” You whisper urgent.
“Why? Who is here to stop me?” Ezra counters with raised eyebrows and amused crinkled eyes.
“This is sacred ground! You can’t simply sit in the sanctuary like it’s some sort of encampment!” You argue.
“Biride,” Ezra begins. “This momentary shelter is merely a building. The same way all buildings are just simple creations of stone and labor.”
“Not buildings like this, especially when our lord resides here.” You reply like a dutifully faithful follower.
Ezra now sits up from his lax position to glance around. His eyes survey every inch of the space.
“You say our Heavenly Father is here. But tell me, turtle dove, do you sense his presence here?”
He noticed it too.
Your tongue becomes metal, heavy and bitter.
“Come,” he urges again, kinder now. “Rest. Your legs need their strength for the rest of your journey. It will be much more comfortable than those stuffy pews.”
You narrow your eyes at him, still hesitant. Defiant, you try sitting in one of the vacant pews only to find clusters of spider webs creating a slightly unnerving barrier. And you didn’t want to check every pew for availability. You were too tired.
Refusing to meet Ezra’s eyes you step past the pews, into the sanctuary, and delicately sit a small space away from your companion.
“See? Not so hard, and you didn’t even combust into flames sitting here.”
You glare at him while Ezra grins triumphant. Silence settles. But with a man who readily embraces the gift and curse of gab, it feels dangerous.
A small gurgle of a noise rumbles out and your face heats up horrified. You didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten this entire journey.
“A bit peckish, dear dove?” Ezra chuckles a smokey thing.
You’re about to grumble under your breath annoyed until he again peers around the abandoned church.
“Rather unfortunate there doesn’t seem to be any source of subsidence here.”
You quietly reassure him as you shift your cloak to reach for your covered satchel. Thankfully, your morsel of a wrapped loaf was spared from the rain.
“I have this for us to share.” You quietly announce.
Ezra gasps small but surprised.
“Divine goddess, you are salvation.” He breathes out.
“I am no goddess. No one person is divine in such a way.” You correct him.
The man hums. “If the maker created man in his image does that not mean we are shades of god in our own ways?”
Midway unfolding the bread out of the paper, you halt.
You never thought of it that way. It made sense. Slowly, it feels as if a wagon wheel is turning in your head leading you towards something you cannot reach.
“Sweet turtle dove,” Ezra calls to you. “Would you be so gracious and let me consecrate our feast?”
You’re stunned by the heartfelt request. This man seems to be a never ending labyrinth confusing you with no end in sight.
You slide closer to sit fully beside him. Readily you hand him the wrapped bread and try not to jump at his hand brushing yours. His skin is soft, warmed, and your knuckles tingle from the simple exchange.
“Thank you kindly.”
Now holding the bread in one hand, Ezra moves the other to lightly hover above the morsel. Closing his eyes in prayer, Ezra begins.
However, he mutters low and so fast that you can’t even catch a word of his prayer. You wonder if he even is saying anything or is simply mocking the form of prayer.
You’re about to chide him until he quickly finishes. Dreamily opening his eyes Ezra then simply breaks the bread into two.
“To break communion with someone lovely as you is an honor.” With a gracious grin, your stranger hands you a piece. You thank him with a soft mutter.
The storm continues its wrath and you arrive at a bleak conclusion. Your night will be spent here in this eerie abandoned church with this strange mysterious handsome man.
Resigning yourself to that, you sigh and take a bite out of the bread.
The bread was a simple one you got from the neighboring town’s bakery. It’s nothing special. You’ve even thought it rather stale at times.
However, the bread you taste now is indescribable.
It melts in your mouth, wonderfully soft and warm. There’s even the sweetest taste like a whisper of a fruit that reminds you of apples. An uncontrollable moan of satisfaction escapes you.
But your eyes widen realizing how you just acted.
Embarrassment floods you fast and you anxiously gaze at Ezra who smirks at you.
Unable to stare at him long, you turn back down to your lap. The bread looks exactly the same as it always does.
Is your mind so exhausted it believes this stale morsel now tastes this heavenly?
You must be imagining things.
Besides you, Ezra shuffles. Out of curiosity your eyes lift towards him and find the man shrugging off his coat.
He even removes his waistcoat to reveal his simple white slipover. Rain still lingers on his skin allowing the pristine white cloth to stick to him. Without the coat you’re given clear sight of his glorious neck.
A thought flutters into your mind.
You imagine sinking your teeth into his beautiful flesh and lapping up all the rain droplets.
Dread fills you.
How could you think such thoughts?
“Turtle dove,” Ezra’s voice shatters the silence almost making you jump.
“If you could create a world of your own, what would it look like?”
The question stumps you, even brings in a twinkle of curiosity. What would bring on such a question? You suppose it must be a way to break the silence and pass the time.
In thought, you hum a small noise.
“I think…” you quietly utter and let your thoughts flow.
You think of a world built on compassion, one without hunger or war, of one filled with peace and justice.
“And without sin, I suppose.” Ezra gently comments and your eyes turn to him.
He stares towards the ground with a peculiar look shadowed over his handsome face.
“Yes of course.” You answer. Sin is the root of all evil and corrupted humanity’s souls.
“What if I told you some sins are not all evil? And that what you long for, dear turtle dove, is not a world void is sin, but one free of guilt from it.”
Your face scrunches up a bit confused over his nebulous words.
“Should we not all live in indulgence?” Ezra adds, clarified in his words.
“Indulgence leads to corruption.” You reply parroting all the countless sermons that discussed this.
“If our creator didn’t want us to indulge, then why did he indulge in creating such a world so lush as this one?” Your stranger offers.
You try gathering a reply, thinking of all the lessons about how this world is meant to be seen in awe and appreciated. Not to indulge in. But now all your arguments seem to fall short, not even sound correct in your head.
Before you can press the discussion further Ezra leans closer towards you. Your thoughts and body become completely petrified.
You should lean away, lean back from his casual intimate movements.
But you can’t. Or, within the deep terror of your heart you know the truth. You don’t want to.
His thumb moves towards the corner of your mouth and you transform completely into stone.
Ezra’s ink eyes haze over while his thumb gently swipes against your skin.
“Crumbs.” He mutters, answering for his actions. Yet, his hand doesn’t leave.
You don’t shove him away or demand him to go. The downpour rattling the windows becomes the church’s only noise while you and this man sit in the stillness.
Ezra’s attention falls to your mouth.
His thumb now strokes the corner of your lips. You believe it’s to wipe more bread crumbs away. Then his thumb swipes across your bottom lip and a sharp inhale escapes you.
His eyes and yours find each other.
“You deserve to live in indulgence,” Ezra whispers deviously rich.
Your skin feels ablazed and your throat dries. Out of instinct or perhaps something darker you wet your lips. In that movement your lips press against his thumb and your tongue manages to swipe at his skin.
You’re rewarded the faintest taste of him, a crumb of his salty golden skin, and it’s like a thread slowly catches fire.
You want more, need it.
Possibly possessed now, your mouth opens up and simply slips more of his thumb into your mouth.
The moment the salty taste of him hits your tongue your eyes close.
Feeling his finger in your mouth against your tongue, against your teeth, is divine. His flesh must be coated with ambrosia because your mouth waters aching for more.
Heaven, or this must be a slice of it.
Until horror strikes you and you realize what you’re doing. Terrified eyes now open, you’re about to pull away and yelp horrified.
Ezra’s hand rapidly moves to cradle your face firm and slide his thumb deeper into your mouth.
“Oh my sweet bird,” he coos now closer to you. “You’ve tasted the pleasure I can give, the magic I can conjure. Don’t deny yourself this.”
His beautiful nose presses into the side of your face nuzzling against your skin and your eyes close. Bliss overtakes you.
“Now” his voice drops a dangerous lulling whisper. “Hollow your cheeks for me, and suck in.”
You do as told and the groan Ezra lets out vibrates deep past your skin. You even let out a whine.
You’ve heard the noises men make in the waves of passion, but this was decadent. You never knew a man could sound this beautiful.
You wanted to hear him even more. And knowing you did this to him? A syrupy drunken pride courses through you intoxicating.
You suck harder, allowing your tongue to caress his skin and Ezra exhales heavenly.
Before you can indulge any further, a creature screeches into the church and shatters the sensual spell. You shriek in terror and scramble. Wings furiously flapping come and out of reflex you cover your head.
Then a solid body collides into you and your world falls over.
You hit the floor of the sanctuary with a soft thud. It would’ve been a harder fall if not for Ezra’s hand cradling your head to soften the impact. Your eyes look up to find Ezra covering you, protecting you from whatever flew in.
Your heart thumps loud in your ears, a horrible drum drowning out your thoughts. His broad shoulders, firm frame, he really is a man crafted out of pure beauty and desire now that you’ve tasted his skin.
“Blasted bats… must’ve been nesting in here.” Ezra comments with a mutter while his eyes stay watching out.
Now you faintly hear the familiar chirps of the creatures. You hope they all leave soon or move to another area within the church.
Slowly the rustling settles. Ezra does not move from his post above you, a shield keeping you safe from the interrupting creatures.
His large hand cradling your head holds you gently but with a firmness that speaks of his control.
The strangest clash of sensations arrives. Like Eve awoken out of her blissful sin, you’re keenly aware of the cold clothes sticking to you. Particularly your wet cloak weighing on you sends a chill crawling up your skin making you squirm.
Ezra’s eyes slip back to you. The candlelight highlights the shadows of his face and his eyes seem deeper than before. Candlelight doesn’t even reflect in their abyss.
Until his obsidian eyes go wide in a slight panic.
“Your wing, turtle dove.”
Now confused you shift to lift your arm up. A small cut has ripped through your cloak and blouse sleeve. You didn’t even notice or feel it. Must have cut yourself on the old wooden floor below.
The church didn’t seem this dilapidated to have rotten wood floors. However, without upkeep, it only makes sense everything begins to splinter and decay. Thankfully the cut isn’t deep but dark crimson does stain the cloth.
“Oh,” you even mutter a bit stunned.
Gently Ezra shifts to help you up while being cautious of your wound.
“Are you in pain?” He asks, concerned.
“No.” You shake your head, truthfully telling him you didn’t even notice the cut.
Ezra delicately moves towards your arm. “May I?”
You nod quietly.
Gingerly, your mysterious stranger places his hands on you to further inspect your wound.
“It doesn’t hurt.” You reassure him.
Surprisingly, Ezra stays silent. His eyes remain on your arm. As if you’re an injured sparrow, he folds up your blouse sleeve delicately.
The faintest touch of his thumb strokes your bare skin and your throat constricts tight. This unknown mystery of a man tenderly touching you clutches at your soul.
“My creator, so heavenly in his wisdom,” he suddenly speaks low, like his voice is dipped in sticky honey. “Taught me this is how we heal wounds.”
Then Ezra draws your arm up and he leans down. And in that swift moment, he presses his lips to your wound.
A tender kiss.
Your breath hitches, tripping over itself. You indeed had his finger in your mouth moments ago. But this opens a chasm in you. Especially as you watch him lick away your blood at his lips
Then his lips return to your skin, on your wound, and it feels like devotion.
There were saints that kissed the wounds of your lord and now how angelic, reverent, Ezra’s face looks, you imagine him as one.
However, his lips start kissing all across your arm, quickly becoming greedy. Like a silent thief, he continues kissing up your arm with deliberate nips.
If he is a robber, this thievery is divine. You even squirm, squeezing your legs together because a slick wetness leaks between them. You wish to quell this burning urge to be touched.
Your mind only focuses on Ezra’s lips that you don’t even notice he unclasped your cloak until the heavy cold weight drops off you like shackles unchained.
However, an awful breeze across your skin makes you shrink back from the cold and snaps you into awareness.
You can’t do this with a man like this, a stranger.
A fanged piece of yourself urges you to simply give in, especially with a man not known in town. The internal struggle vanishes when Ezra’s breath tickles against your exposed neck.
“Do you wish me to stop, my turtle dove?” He coo’s. “I believe you deserve to taste this indulgence.”
“I don’t know you.” You croak out. Yet your voice doesn’t even sound convinced of your own resolve.
“Oh but you do.” Ezra pleads, his voice drenched in gilded desire.
“You know me.” He urges. “This is what you wanted. Your heart summoned me. I heard your call and here I am.”
“What do you mean?” Your voice cracks, an unsteady foundation.
“The hidden truths in your heart,” Ezra whispers and his breath dances upon your skin a ghost’s hymnal.
“The festering jealousy of knowing your dear friend found adoration, even out of sin…you wished to know of such delights. And your anger of this world for damning you to such solitudes, of being so constricting - it all called to me.”
Fear captures your heart. This couldn’t be true.
“Oh but it is,” Ezra answers you.
You don’t even know if you spoke those words aloud or if this man has now slithered into your thoughts.
“All those nights you longed for a lover,” he mourns sympathetically. “All alone with just your fingers in your sweet sex.”
You choke on air, gasping for some sort of relief from this terror drowning you.
“Oh and I’ve watched you for so long, my bird.” He bemoans. “Ached for so long to claim you mine.”
“You…you’ve seen me before?” You stammer.
“Indeed I have. I know you’ve partaken in sin. And the guilt you hold consumes you. Let me be your redemption,” Ezra continues with a pure temptation crawling from his voice.
You should be concerned at how this man has seen you before. Yet…With his mouth simply a breath’s pace away from you nothing seems to matter. Because your mind only wants him to kiss you, ravish you.
“You must say it, my angel.” He mutters.
Do you dare jump off the ledge and plunge into this molten fire?
A light terror runs across your skin, like hearing the hiss of a snake yet not seeing it. Something is afoot with Ezra. You can’t pinpoint it…
But you also wonder if this doubt is born from the chains of your faith holding you back?
“Ezra.” You mumble his name, a choked noise.
“I await your command.” The man reverently responds as if in a mass himself.
“Please….” You whimper out.
“Please what?” He murmurs and his twang clouds his voice even more.
“Please….touch me.” You croak while your voice trails.
It unleashes a monster.
Ezra’s lips dive onto your neck, kissing upon your skin with a possessed fervor. Even while sitting, the sudden rush of his lips, the scrape of his facial hair against you makes your body collapse.
It only allows for Ezra to sweep you into his arms.
Yanking his face away from your neck, you’re about to mourn the loss of him against your skin until his lips swoop in to consume yours.
You’ve kissed others before. In the hidden shadow of buildings after dark, you’ve even recently shared a kiss or two with the blacksmith’s brother a handful of times. They’ve been wonderful but secret encounters.
This however sets your soul on fire.
His tongue swiftly maneuvers into your mouth and now tasting him from the source, you never want to know a day without this, without him.
You moan, yanking at him closer, and try to slide your own tongue against his now. It’s messy, wet, a clash of bone and spirit but it’s delicious.
Sliding his arms under your legs, Ezra lifts you up with ease as he stands. You squeak against his lips, but then your eyes roll back when the man suddenly begins sucking on your tongue.
Your body feels like it will crumble at any moment.
That’s when you notice you’re being laid upon something cold and flat.
Wearily you find you do rest high upon something.
And now, the church is lit.
You panic looking around. The torches lining the walls burn with warm flames and illuminate the space in amber light.
How? Ezra did not leave you for one moment. Was there another here? And if so, how did you not hear them?
A warm calloused hand moves to cradle your face and your eyes snap to Ezra who peers down at you with smoke filled eyes.
“Don’t fret, my dove. We are only here.” He reassures, leaning down to kiss you again and your eyes shut once more.
“And if you’re not simply focused on me, then I’m not doing this correctly.” He mutters against your lips.
A wanton drunkenness comes with how consuming he kisses, especially as his mouth pulls from your lips to lick against your jaw.
He hums a satisfied groan.
“Oh my darling turtle dove, you were born to be worshiped by me weren’t you? And I blessed to simply be your devout disciple.” A revered holiness oozes thick from his voice.
“Let me venerate at your holy temple.” Ezra exhales against your throat kissing your feverish skin.
This is more than you can handle. It’s tremendous. It’s too much, yet not enough. It’s building something just out of your grasp, a flame that can’t be extinguished and scorches so fierce.
Blinking out of the haze, you find instead of being beside you, Ezra, like magic, now stands by your feet.
His hands slide up your legs and yank you closer towards him.
A yelp of surprise squeaks out from you. Any other noise or thoughts get swallowed up when Ezra’s hands snake under your skirt and up your legs.
Your eyes close under the sensation of his calloused warm hands.
“Do you know what true sacrifice cleanses sins?” Ezra asks with gravel in his voice.
“Hm?” You mumble, unable to create a response with how wonderful his fingers feel caressing your thighs.
“It’s to offer up one’s life. That’s the ultimate form of sacrifice.”
His words terrify you. Is he insinuating what you think he is? Are you to be made a lamb to slaughter because of the desire consuming you?
“Shh…” Ezra notices your worry and soothes you, rubbing gentle circles on your skin.
“Fear not, my dove. For I shall bring you redemption just as you’ve brought me mine.”
Slowly, he hoists your leg up and your eyes widen. He shifts to stand between your legs. Keeping his gaze on you, the mysterious man kisses your calf, a calming balm that also ignites a heat brewing in you again.
“Tell me,” Ezra asks, speaking into your skin. “Has anyone tasted you…here?”
Suddenly his fingers graze against your sex and warmth floods your face at just the thought.
You heard of such a thing from your friend at the brothels. However it was a rare occurrence, almost seemed mythical.
“No.” You breathe out.
“Shame.” Ezra mumbles. “All for me I suppose. A wonderfully ripe peach, all mine to consume.”
His inky dazed eyes flicker to yours.
“Will you let me take you to heaven, my lovely? May I swim in your ocean and taste your pearl?” Ezra offers like a man asking for your atonement.
The terminology is not missed on you and lust crashes in a dizzying tidal wave.
Quietly, swallowing thick, you nod yes.
Pride grin tugs at Ezra’s lips and his eyes twinkle like a creature lurking out from the woods.
Softly closing his eyes, he returns to kissing your skin. Except this time he moves up your leg with a purpose -
Like he’s on a holy pilgrimage.
Almost bewitched you watch him kneel down and push up your skirt to reveal your under garment. It’s a sight you want seared into your memory.
Then Ezra presses forward and kisses your covered sex. A gasp rips wild from you and your eyes roll back.
With a fast rip, Ezra takes apart your undergarments. Bare to him, his tongue then licks against your cunt and the most debauched sound you never knew you could even make escapes you.
“Do you enjoy? Wish me to continue?” You don’t know how Ezra’s voice swirls around you, a caress in the whispering wind, but you nod frantically.
“Ezra please… more.” You whimper.
And he does as you command.
Ezra pulls you apart with a wet devotion and frenzy that feels like you’re being devoured. He’s feasting on you.
You whine, even slap a hand over your mouth to silence how loud you’ve become when he sucks hard on the pearl of your sex.
“No.” He mumbles wet within your molten heat. “Let me hear you, my lovely.”
You don’t deny him after that.
The storm now rages outside, violently ramming into the windows. It mixes with the cries of your pleasure ripping through you.
When your climax arrives and knocks you out of this realm, you scream Ezra’s name while your legs shake.
“Beauty divine,” Ezra sighs, devout and borderline drunk.
Breathing down from your high with your back fully now flat against the floor surface, it hits you.
You’ve been lying on the chapel’s altar this entire time.
The offering is you. You indeed are the sacrifice, one of vitality. The throne of ecstasy is a form of life…
And did Ezra not tell you passion is also a tiny death itself as well?
Before you can gather this, Ezra dives back into you again and you squirm unbelieving this man can want more. He’s a man possessed like he’s trying to consume you from the inside out, devouring you until he reaches your marrow.
“Ezra.” You whimper. It borders too much, but you also don’t want this to stop.
“Let me feast, my dove.” He growls back and you catch it.
Ezra’s voice sounds distorted, fluttering between his twang and now a jagged danger sounding monstrous.
Wearily, trying to stay aware among the heat of building rapture, you exhaustedly lean up.
Between your legs Ezra is a sinful sight. His broad shoulders keep your thighs open as his tongue dips into the caverns of your cunt. You melt, unable to keep your eyes open.
But you want to watch him, want to remember this for as long as you can.
Especially now that the storm rages all around. You even wonder if the decaying church’s roof might be ripped off.
So your eyes open.
From between your legs, Ezra glances up.
His mouth stays stuck to your sex, except his eyes are completely hollowed out.
Drenched in darkness, like ink spilled entirely into them, they’re unholy and inhuman.
A scream rips from you but you can’t tell if it’s born of fear or pleasure. Or maybe both have blended together.
Your hips rise galvanized more and more, unable to stop their grind into his lips. Ezra’s grip keeps you secured and grounded.
Yet the sensation of sharpened nails now scrape against your skin.
You discover there are indeed claws, gruesome and monstrous claws, that form Ezra’s hands and arms.
“What- what are you?!” You sob.
Ezra hums and peers up at you.
“Salvation, my lovely. Yours and mine.”
A second orgasmic high hits and from the overwhelming pleasure your vision goes white. You wonder if this is heaven.
Or perhaps it’s hell.
Maybe you have died.
You should scream in terror or pray for absolution. But it’s so hard when this tastes so incredibly intoxicating, a most potent elixir.
As your body crumbles back against the altar, the overstimulated sensations become numbing, fogging your mind. Your eyes flicker up to the ceiling of the chapel.
You cannot find your god anywhere in the shadows.
The back of Ezra’s clawed hand gently strokes your cheek.
So tired, barely able to stay awake, your exhausted gaze flickers to him.
Those eyes of his, dark chasms of hell, should be soulless. But instead he looks at you with utmost tenderness.
The blazing lights of the church cast a warm glow outlined around Ezra, almost like a halo.
It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful in the terrifying way a fire is.
The mystery known as Ezra suddenly whispers out your name and you realize…
You never once gave it to him this entire time.
He is the last sight you see before your vision finally falls into the darkness.
When you awake, you’re among your quilts and bed.
You’re home.
Rapidly you look around so confused. How did you end up here? Was it all a dream?
“You’re awake!” Your father cries relieved and rushes to your side.
He thankfully answers all your questions.
You had arrived the morning after the storm. However, you hadn’t been alone.
“You had fallen ill on the road.” Your father explains. “But, thanks be to God, the new pastor sent to our town discovered you and carried you home.”
Now you’ve been resting ever since.
Had that experience been a fever dream, a temporary temptation conjured from your heart’s dark desires?
That had to be a dream, one brought on by your sudden sickness. So you rest and stay in bed for most of the day. From your window you admire the beautiful clear skies, the wonderful weather, and wildflowers growing so lovely.
You also notice your arm is completely healed, like you were never cut to begin with.
Midafternoon, a knock arrives at the door.
Your father calls your name. “Someone here to visit!”
Your mind sorts through all the possibilities of who is here to see you. You never expected your dearest friend to enter in with tears in her eyes. Overjoyed emotion washes over you as she rushes to embrace you.
“How can this be?” You hiccup, wiping away the tears. She was rarely allowed back home, especially now with her early pregnancy.
“The new pastor,” she smiles wide. “So holy and forgiving, he spoke to the judges and they are all redetermining a new sentence for me.”
You almost whisper out a prayer of thanksgiving. You hoped in your heart this would happen. She doesn’t stay long, wanting you to rest and you urge her to do the same.
By twilight another knock at the door arrives.
“Seems we are quite popular today.” Your father teases out from the main quarters.
Then he exclaims in excitement at seeing who’s arrived.
“Oh we are so blessed to have such a considerate clergyman coming by to visit!”
The new pastor. You’re beyond interested to meet this man and now you will.
When your father enters your room, Ezra waltzes in behind him.
Fear seizes your soul.
No. It couldn’t be.
This must be a man that looks like him down to his beautiful sharp nose and white patch of hair.
“Pleasure to see you again and under better circumstances.” Ezra’s clear twang rings out low and twinkling within your room.
Your heart rages rapidly and wild.
“Don’t look so terrified.” Your father chides soft but you still can’t believe this sight before you.
“Might I have a moment of solitude with your dear offspring?” Ezra asks with all the humility of an apostle.
Your father readily agrees, shutting the door behind him.
Now in the confines of your room Ezra slowly saunters towards your bed, a creature approaching its prey.
He exalts your name on an exhale.
You try to speak, but nothing comes out and Ezra moves to kneel beside your bed. His eyes twinkle with patient and pious understanding.
“Shh…no need for words, my dear turtle dove.” He quietly soothes you.
So many emotions clash in you, a tremulous onslaught you can’t handle.
“Have you come to kill me?” Fear manages to escape your lips and Ezra’s glorious face drops.
“Oh no, my beloved birdie. I’d never lay a hand on you with any violence or killing intent.” He reassures, a tender caress. “I’m here to free you. For us to set everyone free…did you not hear of what I did for your dear friend?”
His hand graciously cradles your cheek.
You should be terrified this man, this creature, is here. But you’re not.
Instead consuming relief and dangerous glee fills you. He is real. It was real.
Your hands clasp onto his and you hate how much you lean into his touch
Ezra leans forward and places a kiss against your forehead.
“What are you?” You ask barely above a whisper.
“The shadow of an angel, perhaps a monster to some.” He replies back. “But yours, nonetheless”
And you want him to be yours.
This is wrong to feel so greedy, to want a creature this dangerous. But were demons not once angels who deserved forgiveness and love?
So shifting your face you turn and place a kiss against Ezra’s palm.
Now when you hear the sermons, when you hear Ezra preach, you will think of Eve with sympathy because you understand.
You too fell for the serpent.
After all, evil never looks so beautiful as it does holding you. And desire never tasted so divine, never felt so holy.
Outside your window, the wildflowers begin to rot and the sudden rumble of a thunderstorm rolls in.
#sorry my ex Catholic school ass jumped out in this one & I need to go bathe in holy water now holy shit#anyway me and demon Ezra love you very much#ezra x reader#demon!ezra#ezra x f!reader#ezra (prospect) fic#ezra (prospect) x reader#ezra 🤎#pedrostories
118 notes
·
View notes
Note
so in the delta squad masterlist (my autocorrect wanted to write masterpiece….not wrong…) we’re missing Fixer and this is a pity. So I would like to request something for him. Maybe the reader once saves his life and he’s like super mad because ItS aGaInSt ThE rEgUlAtIoNs or something but then some time later it’s the other way around and he does not hesitate to save the reader (and break the rules) because surprise! He’s madly in love
that would be nice…🫣
The Delta's Jedi
Summary: You've been working alone for the majority of your career, so when you're assigned Delta Squad, you're less than thrilled. But your opinion quickly changes.
Pairing: Clone Commando Fixer x Jedi!Reader
Word Count: 2548
Warnings: Mentions of torture (nothing detailed)
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni
A/N: So, my plan had been to write my normal four stories for today, but this idea had me in a stranglehold, so this is the only other thing I'm going to write today. Also, there might be a minor implication that the reader is also in a relationship with the other members of Delta, but it could also be seen as just being a close friendship.
When you were assigned to assist Delta Squad, you weren’t sure it was a good idea. Mostly because as a Jedi Shadow, you’ve always been better suited to working alone, and partly because you were pretty sure that your specific skill set wouldn’t mesh with theirs.
And, by and large, you were right.
You specialize in information gathering. A spy, for lack of a better word. And while you are handy with a saber, the truth is you rarely use yours and you actually have a preference towards blasters.
After all, lightsabers are the opposite of stealthy.
And Delta Squad already had an intelligence person. In the form of Fixer. So you argued against it, at length. But you were overruled. Of course, you’ve never been one to follow orders directly.
So, here you are. Ostensibly on the same mission as Delta Squad, just…not attached to them directly. In fact, you’re pretty sure that they aren't aware that they have a Jedi yet.
Yikes. You’re going to write a stern letter to the Council about important information slipping through the cracks.
But, that’s a problem for later.
You absently reach out through the force, pinging the four men under your care almost absently, so you’re able to keep track of where they are and if they’re in danger, and then you slip into the ventilation shaft and silently enter the facility.
You manage to secure the information you need, plus some extra, and you’re about to leave the facility to wait at the ship for Delta, when you get a ping from the force string you attached to the four men.
Three of them, Boss, Sev, and Scorch, are fine. Stressed and worried, but largely fine, but Fixer has been separated from them, and appears to be going down.
On the one hand, you could trust his brothers to save him. On the other, however-
You slip your comm extension into your ear, and effortlessly slice into Delta’s comms, “Pull back to the drop ship,” You order as your gaze tracks Fixer’s location, “
There’s silence for a moment, and then a deep voice, “Who’s this?”
“What, you weren’t told you were getting a Jedi?”
“No,” Boss said, sounding annoyed, “We weren’t.”
You hiss out a sharp breath as you jump back into the vent and start navigating your way down, “This war is a hot mess,” You bitch under your breath, “The left hand doesn’t know what the right is up to.”
“We can’t just leave,” Scorch, your mind provides, says irritably, “We haven’t gotten the intel, and they have Fixer!”
“Relax Scorch.” You hear his sputter, “I have the intel plus some bonus intel. And I’m heading to Fixer as we speak.”
“We can be your backup.” Sev offers.
“You can go back to the ship,” You silently drop down a floor, and then pause to get your bearings, “Listen. You’re all very good. But so am I. They didn’t assign just any old Jedi to Delta. Ah, there it is.” You turn and crawl down a vent, “Fixer isn’t going to be able to get out the way that I got in, which means I need you all to make some noise.”
“A diversion.” Boss says thoughtfully.
“Just so. I’m very good, but I’m not ‘take on a whole army solo’ good. Not with someone to protect, at least.” You grimace as you slide through a suddenly smaller section, “So, I’m thinking a series of explosions-”
“Based at different locations-” Scorch continues.
“And with me keeping the crowd thin-” Sev adds.
“That might just work,” Boss agrees, “You’ll get Fixer out?”
“You have my word.”
“Alright General,” You make a face at the title, “Happy hunting.” And then the comm cuts out, and you heave out a sigh as you continue your trek downward.
Eventually you find the small room that Fixer is being held in. A handful of droids, some Geonosians. Nothing too bad. Aside, of course, from the entire army standing between you, Fixer, and the dropship.
Oh well.
You carefully balance yourself on the vent opening and then you kick down.
All attention turns to you, and you casually, as though you don’t have a dozen blasters aimed at you, cross the room and pick up Fixer’s helmet. And then you turn to the room at large and you smile.
You lift your hands, Fixer’s helmet hanging from your fingers, and you push-
The droids slam into the wall with enough force that they shatter, the Geonosians, tragically, do not. So you draw your saber, and you move. 45 seconds later, the three Geonosian guards are no longer a threat, and you’re kneeling behind Fixer to free him from his manacles.
“Who the kriff are you?” He asks as you hand him your helmet.
“I’m Delta Squad’s Jedi General. Nice to meet you.”
He blinks at you, twice, and then he frowns, “Regulations dictate that any clone captured by the enemy get left behind.”
You move so you’re crouching in front of him, “I cannot emphasize this enough, but fuck regulations.”
Fixer scowls, “I think I hate you.”
“So long as you’re alive at the end of this, you can hate me as much as you like.” You stand and pull a second saber off your belt and you press your finger to your comm, “Boss? I have Fixer, just waiting for an opening.”
“Copy that, General.” Boss says steadily, “One distraction in 3…2…now!”
The building shakes as there’s a massive explosion somewhere above you, “I found a fuel tank,” Scorch sounds far too pleased with himself.
“We’ll see you both at the drop ship,” Boss says, “Good luck.”
One hour later, you’re safely sitting on the gunship, your lightsabers stowed at the small of your back once more, and you’re wrapping your hand in bacta infused bandages.
“So, why didn’t you tell us that you were on the mission to begin with?” Boss asks, his arms folded over his chest.
You flex your hand, grimace, and unwrap the bandage to try again, “I’m not used to working with other people. I figured that I would just work tangentially alongside you until I was able to convince the Council that you didn’t actually need a Jedi.”
“And then Fixer got snatched.”
“And then Fixer got snatched.” You agree, “I’m a Jedi, it’s not in my nature to leave people behind.” This time, when you flex your hand, it doesn’t feel half as bad, so you leave the bandage as is, and then you flash a small grin and introduce yourself.
*********
Contrary to your worries, you actually fit in pretty well with Delta squad. Sure, there were a few bumps to work out, but it didn’t take long before you developed a strong working relationship with the group. Which very quickly turned into a genuine friendship.
Well. With most of them.
Fixer doesn’t like you. At you, you don’t think he likes you, he’s kind of hard to read in the force, and, well, you don’t like prodding at emotions in the force. It makes you feel guilty.
So you make due with a professional relationship Fixer. He knows his stuff, after all. And your specialties tend to cross in some ways, so you actually end up working together a lot.
And sometimes you might think that he actually likes you, when you’re talking about the latest advances in tech and cybersecurity, and then it’s almost like he suddenly remembers who he’s talking to, and he goes cold again.
Honestly. Fixer’s just confusing.
It is too bad. He’s cute, and you are nursing a small crush on him. But that’s your problem to deal with, and if he’s not interested then he’s not interested.
So you put it aside and focus on building a strong work relationship.
And you think it’s working, none of the missions you go on with Delta go horribly wrong, after all.
And then the Council assigns you a solo mission.
And while Delta Squad argued against it, claiming that having back-up is important, you do manage to talk them into letting you go on the mission solo. They’re just protective. It’s adorable.
After all, it’s just a simple intel gathering mission. You’ve been doing them solo since you were a child.
Famous last words, so to speak.
********
“-eneral. General, can you hear me?”
You groan as pain shoots through your entire body, “F’xer?” You slur his name out, the mixture of pain, drugs, and suppressors making it incredibly difficult to focus.
“Oh, thank the force.” He sounds relieved, “General, are you alright?”
“Depends,” You manage to get out, your voice slightly clearer.
“Oh what?”
“Your definition of alright.”
“Are you injured?” Fixer asks.
“Yeah. P-pretty badly, by the feel of it.” You grimace as you try to keep your balance. You’re not quite hanging from the middle of the cell you’re in. Not quite in the sense that the chains holding your arms over your head are just long enough that you can balance on your toes, but they’re also too short for you to actually be able to relax.
And you’ve been hanging here for a while, based on the ache in your shoulders, and the fact that you can’t feel your hands.
“General,” Fixer’s voice cuts through the haze, “Look around you, what can you see?”
“I’m…in a cell. Underground maybe. There are no windows.” You answer, “Fixer, what are you doing here?”
“It’s not just me. We’re all here.”
“Why?”
He’s quiet for a moment, “It’s been almost a month, General. Did you think we wouldn’t come for you?”
“I thought that regulations said that I was supposed to be left behind.” You joke weakly.
There’s a long moment of silence, before he sighs softly, “I would never. Even if it is regulation.”
You release a slow breath, “Well…that's good to know.”
“We’re going to be there soon, General. Just…just hold on, okay?”
“Copy that. I’ll just…hang out.” A delirious giggle bubbles from your lips, and you can hear Fixer’s concern over the comm. It’s fine, when they get here they’ll realize it’s hilarious.
You must have blacked out again, because the next thing you’re aware of is rapid gunfire, and shouting. And then your cell door slams open. You blink blearily at the man standing in the door. You can’t see clearly, but you’re pretty sure you see white and green, which means Fixer.
He crosses over to you and reaches up to pick the manacles holding your hands over your head. And he catches you when you fall into him. “I have you General. I have you. We’re going to get you home, and you’re going to get a nice bacta bath.”
You blink up at him, hazily, and he curses, “What did they give to you?”
“Just about everything, I think.” You admit, and then, when the world spins nauseatingly, you press your forehead against his armor, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk.”
And you think you’re imagining it, but you swear you feel his gloved hand press against the back of your head, “That’s alright, we brought a stretcher.” He turns away from you, long enough to pull the hover stretcher into the room, and then he carefully sets you on it.
Just before you slip back into unconsciousness, you feel the prick of an IV sliding into your arm, and you hear Fixer’s voice, “Everything’s going to be fine, General. We’ll take care of you now.”
*********
The next time you wake, it’s to the annoying beep of a heart monitor, and the sharp smell of antiseptic.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” You turn your head slightly and see Fixer sitting next to the bed you’re in, “Good morning, General.”
“Morning,” You mumble, “We’re back at base?”
“We are. You’ve been in a bacta tank for two weeks. And you’ve been under 24 hour watch since you were pulled out a day ago.” Fixer explains, “It…it was pretty close there, for a bit.”
You press an arm over your eyes, “Sorry.”
“Not your fault. You shouldn’t have been sent alone.” He hesitantly takes your hand, the one closest to him, “It’s not going to happen again.”
“Yeah?”
“Boss called the Jedi Council after we got you back and there was no small amount of threatening done.” Fixer sounds amused, “And when the council asked about the intel rather than you, Sev and Scorch exploded on them too.”
“And that worked?”
“It was accepted that Delta Squad is far too valuable to risk us going AWOL due to losing you.” Fixer says dryly.
You laugh weakly, “You would never.”
“If we lost you, we just might.”
You shook your head, and smiled at him, “You’re loyal soldiers.”
“We are. Loyal to the person who expected us to be more than soldiers. To the person who expected us to use our best judgment rather than mindlessly following orders.”
You drop your arm and blink at him in surprise.
“You seem surprised.”
“I would expect this kind of talk from Scorch or Sev…not so much you.” You admit.
He chuckles, “The 212 is fiercely loyal to their Jedi, as is the 104. Is it so surprising that we’re just as loyal to our Jedi?”
You sigh and sink back against your pillow, “No. I suppose not.”
“Good.” He pauses and his grip around your hand tightens, “I need to tell you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“I don’t hate you. I know I’m not as…overtly affectionate with you as, say, Scorch is, but I don’t hate you.” Fixer explains quietly, “It just took me some time to figure out what it is I do feel for you.”
“And what’s that?”
He smiles wryly, “I’m afraid I’m in love with you. And I know you’re a Jedi, and I know it’s not allowed, but-”
You laugh softly, “I’m a Shadow, Fixer. The rules don’t necessarily apply to me like they do with most other Jedi.” Slowly, painfully, you roll onto you side and you reach out to lightly touch his cheek, “For what it’s worth, the only reason everyone knows that Jedi don’t do relationships is to protect us from people trying to use sex or romance to influence us.”
He blinks, twice, and then huffs out a sharp breath, “That makes so much sense. The Jedi are seen as incorruptible because they can’t be bribed.”
“The ancient Jedi were clever assholes. There are those who have decided to adhere to that rumor as the truth, but you won’t find a single Shadow who views it as anything more than rumor.” You smile softly.
“Oh…so-”
“So,” You continue, “I’m willing to take a relationship a day at a time with you, if that’s agreeable to you?”
“Very agreeable.” He pauses, “Does that mean I can kiss you?”
“I taste like bacta.”
“Don’t care, and also not an answer.”
You smile at him gently, “Yes, you can kiss me.”
Fixer leans in and gently, very gently, brushes his lips against yours. And then he pulls away, “I’ll kiss you properly when you’re not still laying in a hospital bed.”
You laugh softly, and settle back on your pillow, “Alright, give me an update. What’s been going on the last…month and a half?”
#star wars#tcw#clone commando fixer x reader#fixer x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#answered asks
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
ABOUT NEW 50% OFF CONTENT
Hey sorry to get your attention like that, kind of a scummy move but bare with me a few moments. I’m the other person who made 50% Off, Sparky the Android, I also voiced Haru and Rin and some other small things. People usually just call me PJ now cause I don’t really make content anymore. Speaking of content Alex, Octopimp, decided he was going to make some new 50% Off content this past week and I would just like to explain some things as to why this is a real legitimate slap in the face to me personally. I want to stress that I was not sexually abused, physically abused, or in any major danger in my long creative partnership with Alex, he was just a scumbag who acted like an asshole and treated me really poorly over the course of the show forcing me to eventually quit. I was willing to just walk away from this stuff. Close the door, yknow? Get some closure but Alex seems intent on opening it by posting new 50% off content without talking to me about it first in any capacity. I have not spoken to Alex in several years but I was and always have been an equal creative factor in 50% Off, so him releasing new content without me feels especially insulting.
Alex came to me ten years ago asking if I would be interested in making an abridged series at the time because I had a background writing comedy and went to school for film. This was under the pretense of an equal partnership. We’re both funny, I’m a good writer and a decent voice actor, Alex is a decent writer and a good voice actor. He bought me my first voice acting microphone and we set to work developing the show with me refining a lot of our ideas into actual scripts to read from. As the series progressed I started taking on the larger writing work and Alex the larger editing work. Episodes went from 4 minute goofs (the original concept) to more longform almost 20 minute episodes at a time where characters had their own throughlines and stories progressing. It was a large task for the two of us, especially the difficulty of editing for Alex specifically. I don’t want any of this to seem like I did all the work, or that I never fought with or insulted Alex because that’s far from my point. Both of us were supposed to be partners but Alex consistently treated the show as SOLELY his in increasing amounts. I had to ask him to stop saying things like “I sign your paychecks.” or to stop insulting me in videos when he would add in insults against me without talking to me about it first. I can take an insult! I wrote some content insults about Alex too! But I was always up front and he would slip his insults in, or little jokes that were not in my scripts, without ever talking to me about them I would see them in the video premiers. He consistently minimized my involvement, I had to argue with him to get my name on the end slate, I wrote the theme rap, I wrote 90% of the material, I wrote our dumb tshirt commercials, the show is unequivocally so much of MY VOICE and I was begging to get a little more limelight or recognition.
Alex took guest appearances at cons without talking to me. We did a panel at anime expo where HE was the guest and when I asked him about a badge to get into the con he informed me that he was giving the other pass to his girlfriend at the time. And while he did end up purchasing me a new badge to try and make good, just the act of not thinking that that badge should have been mine was so insulting. When we went to funimation he consistently bore it down on me that i was LUCKY that he flew me out so we could go to Funimation even though he would not be going in the first place without my scripts and voice. He made content without talking to me. He kept me at arms length in an arrangement that was supposed to be equal and I never spoke about it publicly because even a small amount of internet fame warped my little idiot brain and I wanted to keep being famous and cool on the internet.
I never saw our official earnings numbers or even had access to the channel and took it on blind faith that I was being fair. When I quit the show because it was seriously becoming a real detriment to my mental health I walked away from any earnings the show would make after.
It sucked. It sucked because I wanted to make more of the show. I wanted to finish season one. I promised people I would. It sucked because for some of it I was having fun! I was going to voice actor parties and people were paying attention to me. Selfishly I thought I could right the ship and turn it into a real career but I know that was never really an option. And it sucked because Alex and I WERE friends. I did some of my best material with him. Times hanging out with him where he was a genuine person were great. And I tried so many things! I realized arguing with him wasn't working so I figured it must be my fault. I tried being more supportive of him, supporting his streams, cheering him on at game tournaments, etc. But he just kept using me and the people around him to further his career. I just couldn’t take it anymore and I took the only ownership I really could and I walked away. The show stopped and, I’m sorry to the people who loved it, I think it should have stayed stopped. Nagisa is a fuckin racist caricature, one I actively contributed too regardless of the actions I took to make Nagisa smarter, more artistic, less of a one note joke about drugs and crime. Hell his final speech about how he felt about fetishizing MLM content at the time was feelings I WAS HAVING as a person coming to real terms with their queer identity. Alex is not a queer person! I am! I gave that speech to Alex to perform. I gave him MY VOICE. But it's still a racist caricature rooted in the past that is my fault for perpetuating.
And again I’m not an angel. I argued with Alex a lot and said a lot of mean things to his face. Some stuff I regret because I’ve spent the time after the show specifically not shoving myself down another pipeline of making online content. The attention makes me stupid and I act like a jerk! I made mistakes while doing 50% Off and I’m sure I’ve hurt people too. I’m sorry to anyone who crossed my path when I was hopped up on stupid internet fame. You met one of the worst versions of me and it was my own doing. I’m sorry to Alex even for some of the stuff I said. But Alex leveraged his position of power over me as an excuse to treat me like shit. I’m in a good place in my life and I just wanted to shut the door on all this but Alex is intent on opening it after all these years and STILL minimizing my contributions. Saying things like “I just don't have the time/resources to make full episodes anymore.” He can’t make full episodes anymore because he would have to replace my voice in them but more than that replace my entire writing style. I was willing to let him upload a short like w/e its 2023 like whatever right? Tell your joke dude I don’t care. Then he posted another acting like he was going to do even more new 50% Off stuff and a close friend spoke with him saying it wasn't a good idea and he agreed. Then he posted them on youtube! And is saying stuff like this to people in the comments.
Like implying that the only reason he can't continue to produce 50% Off in full is because he doesn’t have the energy or schedule. He can’t continue because it would be continuing without me and I know deep down he KNOWS he shouldn’t. I don’t want any fucking clout or want you to watch any of my content because I don’t MAKE any. I wasn't sexually assaulted or physically abused. Alex was just a huge dick to me and a lot of my friends and we all just let it slide for all of our own personal reasons. Hell I was content just walking away the way I did, making the split seem amicable so there wasn’t a bunch of drama, letting the show stay up, and still field questions for people curious about it. I took my gdrive with every script i ever wrote for the show and just closed the door. I’m just tired after all these years of this guy actively ignoring my involvement in the show that is partially responsible for his internet fame. Tired of him pulling this bullshit “uwu i would love to make more but i just can't!” attitude to lie about why he can't actually make more. Tired of him opening that fucking door.
A few years ago Alex got in contact with me through a friend with an apology. At the time he sent it many streamers were facing backlash for how they treated people in the past, ones closer to Alex, so this seemed suspiciously timed. The apology I got sounded like every other apology Alex had given me over the years. A lot of avoiding his own culpability in his actions. I told him that if we were to resume being friends it would take a lot. I think anyone who makes the effort deserves the chance to be redeemed, but I had absolutely zero trust in him and thought it was unlikely that he really wanted to make an effort to be a real friend to me. After that we resumed not speaking and when people asked me about him I still tried to make our split seem at least somewhat amicable and I try to generally avoid projects he is involved in.
Imagine my surprise when he walked out on that Jerma stream.
I want to thank everybody who watched 50% Off honestly and truly. I think some of it still shines as some of my best work. I got to do a lot of cool things like have my voice in a real anime, and I met tons of people who cared about me and my role in the show specifically. Those people were like life preservers while I felt like I was sinking in Alex’s shadow. It’s undeniably cool to have people respond to your work so well and I know I wouldn't have seen that happen without Alex’s skills as an entertainer and producer. Alex has hurt me personally as a friend, as a business partner, and has hurt several of my other friends in various ways with his behavior. The way I felt on 50% Off became truly harmful to my mental state. I struggle personally with imposter syndrome and RSD and at the time of making the show I had gone through very little therapy to help me develop healthy coping mechanisms for those things. It was just like pouring gasoline into a fire. And I really wanted to put it all behind me for the sake of my own mental health and life because all things considered I’m happy where I am now. I’ve worked really hard on myself personally and have been so lucky to have emotionally intelligent friends help me and give me so many chances I should not have deserved. I’m fortunate to be able to support myself and my cat, and I get to make personal art I love without having to push myself into the internet game because if I’m being honest I had a bad addiction to social media. I apologize I don’t have a nice resolution for you, I’m not asking you to stop watching 50% Off, or watch anything I make, or hell even stop watching Alex’s personal content. I just felt like I had this intense pit in my stomach seeing him parade around in the other half of our two person horse costume and insist he’s wearing the whole thing. Yknow? After all these years I just wanted to say SOMETHING about the way I was really treated so I could finally get some closure for myself. Thank you for your time and again to all the people who DID support the show thank you sincerely.
#also without my involvement alex is a white cishet man writing queer characters#one of which is a racist stereotype#in 2023#like cmon#octopimp#50% off!#free! abridged
353 notes
·
View notes
Text
Different Superstore Characters and Their Autism
(These are all headcanons)
(some have canon support)
Dina
* Strong Points
* Math
* To the point of being able to do basic math in her head
* 198+535? Give her 5 seconds.
* Math always came easy to her
* Music
* Learned guitar very quickly
* Also can play piano
* She’s a very skilled singer despite never having lessons
* Speaking
* Dina is really good at keeping her voice and her words clear. She knows how to get her point across. Even when under stress, she usually doesn’t crack.
* Weak Points
* Social cues
* She’s not bothered by this, and she doesn’t care. It’s not her fault neurotypical bitches make things so complicated.
* Pop culture
* She does, however, know the most random niche information, and is appalled when others don’t also know the random trivia she knows.
* Takes everything so literally
* Her response to Jonah’s “soon we’re gonna have to pee in bottles” during Curbside Pickup comes to mind
* She’s also bad with common phrases
* “I don’t like you spreading lies about fish!”
* Doesn’t seem to recognize how dangerous some things are
* Or how fragile humans are
* Sense of direction
* This bothers her a ton because she feels like she SHOULD have a good sense of direction, but even though she’s lived in St Louis her whole life, she still needs a GPS to get the vast majority of places.
* Yums
* Sorting things, specifically by color
* Anything that isn’t sorted by color when she buys it is sorted by color no later than an hour after it’s purchased
* Eye contact
* She actually aggressively likes eye contact lol
* Socks
* Icks
* Physical affection
* She only sometimes tolerates it, depending on who it’s from
* She’s somewhat okay with being touched, but she doesn’t particularly enjoy it
* Changes in routine
* Includes things like having to buy a new Halloween costume, or having to get new pens (both canon instances)
* High pitched noises
* A lot of noises actually
* Masking
* Does not bother masking most times
* She does it so rarely that it’s very obvious when she is masking
* Stims
* Making noises vocally
* Jumping
* Waving her arms
* Twirling pens or knives in her fingers
* Special Interests (past and present)
* Birds
* Security
* Knives
* Music from the 1940s-1960s
* Coping Mechanisms
* Sex
* Hitting and breaking things
* Driving
* Yelling at people
* Other details
* Low empathy
* Strong sense of right and wrong
* Usually this is in a rule sense, but there are a few cases where her morals don’t align with rules, and she breaks them to stick with said morals.
* Biggest example in my opinion is her efforts to keep Mateo from getting detained
* Undiagnosed
* She’s the most likely to have a diagnosis, but probably still undiagnosed
* Blunt
* Cares a lot for animals
* Especially any type of bird
Jonah
* Strong Points
* Vocabulary
* He has a large vocabulary and prides himself on knowing a lot of words
* (He’s so annoying about it sometimes too- he’s just like me FOR REAL)
* This exercise is teaching me I’m more like Jonah than I thought lol
* You’d think with this he’d be able to get his point across well but you’d be wrong
* Vibe Check ??
* (Sorry I couldn’t think of a better way to put it)
* He just is really good about knowing when something is off
* Does he handle the situation well when something is off? Totally depends.
* Weak Points
* Bad at reading social cues
* In denial over his struggles with reading them, thinking he’s great at it, when in fact he’s exactly the opposite
* Implying he’s bad at reading social clues will offend him
* Auditory processing issues
* Tends to give too many details
* Specifically about pieces of media, he’ll share a bit too much. He’s not good at giving a quick synopsis.
* He’s just like me for real
* He’s so fucking impulsive
* HE CAME TO WORK IN RETAIL IN A COMPLETELY SEPARATE STATE ON A WHIM
* AND HE ONLY CAME THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE BECAUSE HE WANTED A SNACK LMAO
* Has some insomnia
* Very bad at staying on topic sometimes
* The way he’ll just randomly start talking about something else in the series? Canon. Canon.
* Speaking in general
* If he doesn’t think very carefully before he speaks, he will stutter. Even if he does think carefully, there’s a chance he’ll stutter anyway.
* He’s. Just. Like. Me. For. Real.
* Yums
* Loves physical affection
* To the point of pushing it, and not noticing when it’s too much
* He gives hugs a lot
* He and Amy are very much the loves affection x doesn’t like affection that much.
* He enjoys changes in his routine
* He would literally reorganize an entire house if given the opportunity, he loves change
* Unless it’s initiated by literally anyone else, but he likes to initiate changes often
* Socks
* Icks
* Loud noises
* RSD
* This isn’t necessarily an ick but he wants people to like him SO bad so I guess people not liking him is an ick
* Masking
* He cannot stop masking
* He doesn’t realize he’s masking, but he was raised to mask his entire life, so it’s just normal to him
* He is always exhausted because of this
* He always seems uncomfy when he’s not masking
* Stims
* Moving his hands or arms in any way
* Twirling pens
* Repeating words
* Tapping his fingers
* Pacing
* Special Interests (past and present)
* The Americans
* Politics
* Musical Theatre
* Constellations
* Horses
* Coping Mechanisms
* Comfort shows
* Talking about it
* Or yelling if he needs to
* Quiet alone time
* Cooking for others
* Other details
* Feels the need to prove himself constantly
* Out of the three, Jonah probably had the worst upbringing specifically in regards to his neurodiversity, with his parents showing very obvious favoritism to his older brothers, and with his brother, Josh, always bullying him because of his neurodiversity
* High empathy
* Strong sense of right and wrong
* Undiagnosed
* Also so in denial
* If anyone implies he might be neurodivergent he’ll be like “I couldn’t possibly be, not that there’s anything wrong, but like, couldn’t be me, actually”
* Not good at making friends
* He gets better at this over the course of the show
* He’s not good at this before the show because he never sticks with anything, so even though he knows more of who he is than he did in childhood (where he was more of an outcast) he doesn’t stick around long enough to make long lasting friends.
Eric
* Strong Points
* Details
* He’s very detail oriented and notices small things
* He’s good at recognizing when things are off center and it drives him crazy
* Weak Points
* Bad at reading social cues
* Literally the worst
* He knows this to an extent but he’s not aware of just how bad he is at it
* Especially bad at reading the tone of a social situation (whether it be serious, funny, sad, whatever)
* Generally more quiet and reserved
* With his ‘safe’ people he is literally the exact opposite
* Also this isn’t a weak point per se but this felt like the right place to put it
* Dissociates a lot
* Auditory Processing troubles
* He literally looks like he doesn’t know what’s going on sometimes and it’s always funny
* Yums
* Loves physical affection
* But he’s picky on who he’s affectionate with
* Likes to sit on the floor
* Socks
* Sorting things by color/organizing in general
* Mateo leaves Eric home alone. He comes back and the closet has been rearranged by color. This happens often.
* Mateo doesn’t mind this tbh because he likes stuff organized that way too.
* Sometimes when he’s at Amy’s and he’s playing with her kids, he’ll get distracted and sort their toys
* Icks
* Dislikes changes in routine
* Loud noises
* A lot of clothing textures
* Velvet is the worst of these
* Strong perfumey smells
* Masking
* He does mask
* However, he unmasks around his safe people (Mateo, Amy, etc)
* He doesn’t really have the proper terminology for it but he’s sort of aware when he needs to put up a nice face or where he can just be stoic
* He’s good with eye contact and doesn’t hate it
* Stims
* Biting/Chewing
* Clicking pens
* Anything he can busy his hands with actually
* Whistling
* Repeating words
* Rapidly blinking
* Pacing
* Special Interests (past and present)
* Plants
* Specifically succulents
* Trains
* This one is literally so self indulgent but I don’t care lmao
* Baking
* Giraffes
* Filmmaking
* (Because of a line where Mateo says he’s using Eric’s projector)
* He definitely still has a VCR player and a good amount of VHS tapes, and you can pry them from his cold dead fucking hands
* Weather
* He likes thunderstorms in particular
* This one is also self indulgent but I also just think it’d be kind of funny for Mateo to have severe storm anxiety and for Eric to be one of those bitches that would stand outside and watch the tornado if given the chance.
* Coping Mechanisms
* Rocking
* Hugging his giraffe stuffy
* Baking
* Sorting things
* Other details
* High empathy
* He Must be wearing jackets
* He can be without one, but he tends to have a shorter social battery when he’s not wearing one
* He doesn’t know why this is, he just is like “hm, I don’t really like being upset all the time in public places, guess I’ll just wear jackets all the time”
* Short sleeve jackets are okay, it literally just has to be an extra layer
* It’s an extra weight thing but he does not know this
* Undiagnosed
* Ron Sosa is also aggressively neurodivergent so their family is just like “ah, so the men in our family are just fucking weird, carry on then”
* Blunt
* Less so than Dina but it is definitely there
* Most of his close friends are people he’s known for a long time
* Basically saying he’s not great at making friends that he hasn’t known since he was in school
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
I think another problem with Chuck killing Jack in Moriah as a writing choice is it allows people to draw a sharper delineation between s14 and s15 soulless Jack than really makes sense, in a way that allows them to see the extreme lengths gone to to take him down in s14 as much more justified than they were – either in practical terms, or in terms of how they were meant to come off.
S15 soulless Jack is more or less innocuous – tfw express concern re his state, but nothing at any point suggests that he is a major threat. And obviously if you apply that backwards, if there is no need to contain him or whatever in s15, why would there have been in s14 either? Like the ~danger in s14 comes largely from 1) his desire to do good being used to manipulate him and 2) him spiralling out of guilt and fear, and – understandably! – also anger at his attempted eternal imprisonment. The major difference between him in s14 and s15 is the fact he doesn’t have that whole inflammatory emotions cocktail going on, which were resulting to a very significant degree directly from how his soullessness was responded to. If Cas had got his way and just run off with him in Moriah, there’s really no reason to think that things wouldn’t have been fine.
And like, even at the time we’re not meant to think either the equaliser or the box is sensible or proportionate. I think the equaliser goes without explanation, but re the box, even though Buckleming (pretty unpleasantly, imo) try to justify it as making emotional sense for Dean to want to imprison him, the practical justification is actions of his that are the result of Dumah’s manipulation – there really isn’t a good case made that Jack is sufficiently dangerous to justify it in his own right.
But this all gets eclipsed by Jack’s death, and then the 10 episode gap until we see him again obscures the fact that if he’s not a threat later, then – handled properly – he wouldn’t have been at the end of s14 either. If, instead of dying, he’d just remained in Cas’s care, this would have been inescapable, but with how the writers decided to have things play out, it’s very easy to overlook.
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
Forced to Watch (A belated Febuwhump Post) 13th Doctor X Reader
A/N: So sorry for not posting I fell out of love with writing fiction a little bit but I miss it! Also this is from febuwhump 2022... meant to post it this year then I forgot... awkward moments. whoops. I don't really like this one but it's got some good lines!
Warnings: implied violence, direct references to violence, etc.
Word Count: 2.5k
The silence moving through the air of the cage was deafening. Between it all, left unsaid, was a blame that could not be placed on either of you. But attempts were certainly being made, at least in your own head. It was you that had gotten the two of you into this mess. It was your stubbornness that had put a target on your heads in the first place, your misspoken words that had labeled you and the Doctor as traitors to the crown, as spies. All because you wanted to see more, wanted the adventure to go perfectly, your way, for once.
After all, the Doctor had let you choose your destination. This time, you thought, you could be like her. You could pull her through the unknown, show her new and exciting things. Instead, you had landed the two of you in a cage, waiting to face an unknown danger. Danger wasn’t unknown to you as the Doctor’s companion. But it was different when it was your fault, when it was more than just an occupational hazard. When it was avoidable.
You certainly felt like avoiding everything right now. The Doctor didn’t seem to mind the situation, peering around the empty abyss your cage hung in for clues or escape routes. Perhaps if you apologized once more, ignoring what she said about not having to, it would be enough to prove you were really sorry.
“Don’t apologize again,” The Doctor said softly. “You really don’t have to. Besides, it’s not all that bad. Remember when we were stuck in-”
She was cut off with a small yelp as the cage was tugged upward, violently so. She tried to steady herself on the bars of the cage. However, just as she made her attempt, the cage was tugged again and the force of it sent her across the cage and on top of you with a loud thud. You tried to gasp, but the air was knocked out of you at the same time. Your own body moved awkwardly as you were pulled upward, pushed against the bars. The Doctor tried to steady the two of you, only succeeding in crushing your chest tighter.
“Looks like we’re getting out of the cage at least '' You winced as the alternative came into view; the Qupaci were rather hideous, both in personality and appearance. The majority of their faces were covered by the large tusks protruding from their mouths, from which putrid green saliva dripped. The Prince of the Qupaci, sharing these traits, surprisingly hadn’t caught your eye on the dance floor, where you and the Doctor had been so innocently dancing and talking several hours earlier. Your attention completely captured by the timelords dashing black suit, you hadn’t noticed him make his way onto the floor and towards another alien dancing near the two of you.
You hadn’t realized the words you shared could be seen as conspiratory either. Big mistake.
The Prince was at the back of the crowd that greeted you, watching as the cage reached the top of it hung from. Through the wrinkles and boils covering his face, you could make out his smug expression even from some distance. It stayed in your mind, the image twisting and curdling with the contents of your stomach.
“Right, I think it’s time we talk '' The Doctor said sternly. You looked at her, eyes wide. The Qupaci guards had already drawn quite a few weapons. You weren’t sure it was time to talk just yet. The Prince and his guards laughed, and he made his way towards the pair of you.
“My council deals with many issues these days, with tensions being so high. There is a lot of stress. But there are ways to relieve that stress as well” His lip curled around one of his fangs as he spoke, turning into a smirk. His eyes flitted to one of his ‘council’ members next to him, who was holding a rather rusty looking knife. You winced.
“Crosswords?” The Doctor said sarcastically. She stood, prying herself off of you and wrapped her hands around the bars of the cage, sneering at the Prince. “Best not to threaten me.”
“I promise you, Doctor, there is no threat. Or, at least…” The Prince turned to his guard and shouted: “Not an empty one!”
They all cheered, one grabbing the cage and pulling it onto solid ground. The Doctor did not budge, supported by the cage. You, however, had been trying to pull yourself up and were rudely thrust back to the floor of the cage. Cheeks burning in humiliation, you quickly stumbled to your feet- eyes meeting the Princes.
“This one,” he growled.
“I don’t think so” The Doctor hissed in response, doing nothing to slow your quickening heart rate. You had been chosen. But for what?
“Andraxi will have fun with them,” One of the guards said through their slobber. “I wonder which tools he’ll choose.”
“You’re not laying a finger on them” the Doctor said louder, voice echoing throughout the cave.
“Do you know what the Qupaci do to traitors?” Another guard asked, his S dragging on teasingly. You winced. Clearly whatever they had in store wasn’t great. You stared at the back of the Doctor’s head, as if you could somehow read the thoughts occurring inside of it. What sort of plan was she dreaming up? Hopefully there was one in the first place.
“We’re not traitors” You said, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“Coward might be a better word,” The Doctor snarled. As soon as the words left her mouth, you witnessed something more rare than the birth of a star- a look of pure regret crossed the timelord's face. After all, the words had inspired several more of the aliens to step closer, drawing their weapons, staring at you with intent.
“You, then?” The Prince said coldly. He had squared his shoulders, trying to brush off what the Doctor had said.
“No!” You shouted, having successfully gotten to your feet and to the Doctor’s side. She looked at you, alarmed, and shook her head.
“Yes, me, then. Can’t say I won’t make it a challenge for you.” Her eyes were narrowed, scanning the Prince’s for any other cracks to pry open before he managed to even begin whatever sick plan was in place.
“No,” You insisted. Her narrow eyes focused on you, not losing any intensity. She wasn’t just warning the Prince, now. “I got us into this mess.”
You lowered your voice. “Besides, you’re the one who can get us out of it.”
“I’m also the only one with regenerative ability. Get. Back.” You followed her order out of surprise, physically jumping back, and instantly regretted it. Your chance at an upper hand was lost immediately. Forfeited by your own instinctive dedication.
“Doctor please,” You whispered. “Just because you can heal.. Doesn’t mean you should have to. Please”
“What should I do then, let you suffer?” You held each other’s gazes for a brief moment, waiting for the other to give in.
In the back of your mind you registered the door to the cage opening, but its implications did not fully hit you until scaly arms were dragging the Doctor away from you, another pair shoving you roughly down to the floor. You scrambled up to the door just as it slammed shut, a metallic ring filling your ears as you yelled for the guards to bring her back. The Doctor avoided your gaze as they pulled her out of sight, eyes fixated on the Prince.
He turned to you and chuckled. Reaching through the bars, one of his fingers- no, claws- brushed away a tear, mocking the comfort you should be receiving from the Doctor. You pushed his hand away, and he grasped your shirt instead, pulling you against the bars as tightly as he could. So tightly that it was a wonder the metal didn’t bend to your form.
“Don’t worry, you’ll have your turn before the night is over.”
_____
The next half an hour was a blur. Firstly, you were slowly lowered back down into the abyss below, left to hang alone. There was nothing you could do. Any attempt to move the cage simply caused it to rock and sway from side to side, your stomach moving twice as fast than it. Desperate for something to happen, you laid your head against one of the bars, trying to extend your ears. Waiting for a noise; the sound of the Doctor’s footsteps, preferably. A reassuring comment, or perhaps the buzz of the sonic. Those were the sounds you wished for, too scared to think of the possibility that you might hear a shriek or scream instead.
The Qupaci were not merciful enough to only allow you the ability to hear them. The cage began to lower further, and you gripped the bars tightly to steady your bones. When you and the Doctor had been captured, the cage had never strayed lower than where you had been seconds ago. What awaited you at the bottom?
There was a loud rumbling, and the darkness started to part in the middle. A door was opening below you. Whatever awaited you was approaching fast. You gripped the bars tighter as the cage picked up speed, as if the rope that held it was running out, falling with you. Sure enough you began to simply fall, until you landed on the floor with a thud. Your body rose and fell against the bottom of the cage, making you groan in pain.
“Y/n!” The Doctor’s concerned voice. Exactly what you needed to hear right now. Just… not in the way it was delivered. When you looked to where her voice was coming from, propped up on your elbows and eyebrows drawn together in focus, your heart fell.
The crowd of guards had parted enough to give you the full view that you wished you didn’t have. The Doctor was strapped to a long, metallic table, her bonds attached to her ankles and each hand, which were spread and raised above her head. They were red, betraying whatever small movements the Doctor would’ve likely been trying to use to escape.
“Are you-”
“Enough!” The Prince yelled. You rushed towards the end of the cage with a distressed yell.
“Let her go!”
The guards and the Prince paid you no mind. The very few that did only offered you a sinister chuckle. They were all stationed at the front, surrounding the Doctor’s bound form. Their cloaks were different from the others. The Prince’s council, you determined. The ones who so desperately needed to resolve the stress they experienced. You gulped as they reached into their pockets and yelled again. The Doctor stared down at the various tools and her gaze hardened. Your heart tore as you realized she was trying to brace herself for what was to come; trying to brace herself for you.
The next few hours were a blur, existing in a special purgatory within your memory. One second, it seemed as though your brain were erasing each minute entirely, getting rid of every piece that was too hard for you to bear. The next, it seemed as though each of those pieces were receiving their own horribly intense spotlight, each movement, each slice or scratch or hit echoing through your bones and soul. Every single one of the Doctor’s yells and groans, uttered through grit teeth and eyes shut tightly.
Looking at the Doctor now, it was as if your brain was conjuring it all up. You wished that was the reality. The golden glow of regeneration energy had been flowing throughout the room for several minutes, wrapping itself around the two of you. The dust only rested near you for a brief time, healing any bruises you’d received. Its real task was to heal its owner, who had suffered so much. In the end, the servants of the Prince had decided to take advantage of his focus on torturing the timelord to carry out a long awaited uprising, freeing the two of you in the process.
“This could’ve been you,” The Doctor sighed, breaking you out of your mental recap. “But, see?”
She held up her shirt, showing off the side of her midriff. Her shirt was still torn and ripped from where the Prince and his council had carried out their evil deeds, but there were no marks as evidence.
“I can heal,”
“It shouldn’t have been you,” You breathed, the air exiting your lungs in a shaky breath. The power behind it made your chin wobble, made your shoulders shake. Your face squeezed together, trying to hold back the tears that were gathering in your eyes. The Doctor softened and took your hand in hers, kissing the back of it. “I hate that you.. I hate them, for doing that to you, I couldn’t help and it hurt, so bad”
“We got out, it’s alright,”
“You could’ve gotten us out,” You said weakly. Your body was giving in to the fear and grief that it had held onto so tightly for hours, weakening your skin and bones. “Would it have been so bad if it was me? You could’ve-”
“Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that. I felt what they did” You winced, remembering the exact moment your heart broke, the exact moment the Doctor’s walls fell, just moments before the servants had burst through the doors. When you let out a small cry, the Doctor pulled you to her chest for a moment, before pulling you back and holding you by the shoulders.
“I saved you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
"Why can't I save you, why can't I help like you-"
"Because you're not me!" The timelord shouted. She let go of your shoulders, and you froze. "You're not me, and you never will be. You can't be. I get hurt, Y/n. That's how it is, how it always has been. The least I can do is try to make sure you don't"
You shrank backward, all resolve disappearing. The Doctor took a step back as well, rebuilding the same walls that you had been forced to watch crumble.
Later you would both find each other in the library, seeking the other out. In silence, you would both come to accept that it might take a while to process everything that had happened with the Qupari and all that had been said after, words that could not be taken back. Words that conveyed the terrible, terrible truth of traveling with the Doctor. She got hurt. You had, you did, you would, as well. But your days were not infinite. Your pain was not infinite. Hers, tragically, was. One day you would stop running, stop remembering, and existing. But the Doctor would continue on, unable to give up despite the desire to, only able to keep hold of her duty of care.
85 notes
·
View notes
Note
I've been scrolling through your posts, and I just wanted to say;
You clearly know nothing about DID or any other mental illness for that matter. You do not know how systems work, I am assuming you are not a licensed psychologist. You have absolutely ZERO authority to be giving people advice on systems (etc...) .
You never supply anyone with actual information from secure and OFFICIAL organizations. Where are all of your opinions coming from? Where are the facts? Where has a doctor supported any of this?
Your actions have consequences, spreading misinformation about these things is ridiculously dangerous. Do you know how risky it is to tell someone not to see a doctor if they are hearing voices?
You don't affirm a schizos (or anyone's for that matter) delusions, that is just harmful as telling someone who is suicidal to kill themself.
I can't believe this blog is serious. I can't even take you seriously, actually. This is such a shitshow.
Another thing, Transracial, Transautism (etc...) Do not exist. Stop fetishing and obsessing over something you were not born to be.
This behavior is inappropriate and makes plenty of poc and disabled people uncomfortable.
I really hope most of you are teens figuring yourself out, you need to get your shit together. One day, you are going to get a wakeup call from someone who isn't as nice. And it's going to suck.
Please stop this disgusting behavior. I am honestly repulsed. I can only imagine what your parents think. This is fucking insane. You are insane.
Best of wishes xxx
I have never told anyone not to see a doctor if they feel like they need to. But I do reject the sanist belief that voice hearing is inherently pathological. What we do, tulpamancy, induces voice hearing in a non-pathological and beneficial way. This is the opinion of Dr Michael Lifshitz, a professor in psychiatry at McGill University with a PhD in neuroscience:
“If something doesn’t hurt, then it’s not pathological,” Lifshitz tells me on the phone. “Think about rumination. Maybe I think a lot, but it’s not depressive unless it’s making me depressed. Being disassociated — having the feeling of multiple agents living inside of you — in and of itself is not fundamentally pathological.”
“The thing that’s clear is that tulpamancy helps people,” Lifshitz continues. “Tulpamancy allows folks to feel more relaxed and better able to socialize. In fact, we’re interested in how we could use it for developing better treatments for those who do have DID or psychosis. Perhaps we can teach [patients] how to engage with voices or personalities in a way that might be useful [or] therapeutic.”
Similar viewpoints, that hearing voices isn't pathological, have been supported by many others such as Dr. Marius Romme, who founded the Hearing Voices Network. There was also a major interdisciplinary project called Hearing The Voice that explored pathological and non-pathological voice hearing alike. In fact, voice hearing is considered by a normal religious experience in many religions.
There actually aren't many informed researchers today who would say that all voice hearing is inherently mental illness. I have yet to see a single academic paper making any such argument.
My opinion that many intelligent voices in psychotic disorders are dissociative agents in the same way that alters are is largely based on this article from Dolores Mosquera, director of the Institute for the Study of Trauma.
And I want to draw extra attention to the last line, that strategies involving ignoring or getting rid of these voices can be harmful.
If there is a type of "delusion" I've affirmed, that's only the so-called "thought insertion delusion." (Though just so we're clear, affirming a delusion is nothing like telling someone to kill themselves.) This is because I take up the view of Dr. Matthew Ratcliffe (a professor at the University of York) and Dr. Sam Wilkinson, that thought insertion is likely the same type of phenomenon as auditory/verbal hallucinations.
In conjunction with the theory from Mosquera and Ross that certain intelligent voices heard in psychotic disorders are dissociated agents, I think it's reasonable to apply the same standard to thought insertion if these separate thoughts are personified and seemingly intelligent.
Would you like more sources or are you satisfied?
And I'm well aware that my actions have consequences. I hope that those consequences will be helping more existing plurals be able to accept their plurality.
I also hope that by introducing tulpamancy guides to more people, we can increase the number of plurals in the world and help normalize plurality little by little.
Finally, I'd like to ask that you consider revising your language. In addition to the obvious ableism of calling people insane, I don't think people with Schizophrenia and related disorders appreciate being called "schizos."
#ask box#syscourse#plural#endogenic#schizophrenia#plurality#mental health#system#systems#multiplicity#hearing voices#psychiatry#psychology#science#psychosis#hallucinations#delusions#pro endo#pro endogenic#system stuff
90 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you think the Star Wars universe could handle a story with gray morality, where good and evil aren't easily defined?
If the story doesn't have Force users?
Easily.
Solo, Book of Boba Fett, Rogue One, these are all stories where I think there was an opportunity to really make the characters morally "gray".
If you want my opinion, in Solo & Fett, they barely scratched the surface. In Rogue One, they explored it with Cassian Andor, but also offset it by changing Jyn Erso from this kick-ass rebel into this starry-eyed girl who says "hope" every other scene.
But in each of the above-mentioned movies, there's a danger about it not feeling like Star Wars anymore.
Solo is "Star Wars meets the heist subgenre",
Fett might've been "Star Wars meets the crime show subgenre",
Rogue One is "Star Wars meets the war movie subgenre".
So it's Star Wars... with something else that - some would argue - dilutes it. At it's core, Star Wars is fundamentally about Good vs Evil. As a result, these various genres are never explored quite to my personal satisfaction.
I'm part of the crowd that thinks the Star Wars movie franchise should expand it's genres exponentially.
I wanna see a romcom that starts in the Jedi Temple and ends with a passionate speech in Cloud City,
I wanna see a buddy-cop movie between Quinlan Vos and Vilmar Grarhk/Mace and Anakin/Yoda and Maz Kanata,
I wanna see a horror film where the monster is a Sith Lord,
I wanna see a zombie movie with Doctor Evazan as the mastermind villain,
a detective noir film set between Ep. 1 and Ep. 2 featuring Rael Averross investigating the disappearance of some Kaleesh warlord and eventually finding out about Dooku's turn to the Dark Side
and a slice-of-life comedy about the entire disaster lineage. Seriously I just need this whole thread to be canon.
But I'm not holding my breath because I know that there'd be a big chunk of people who'd go "this doesn't feel like Star Wars" and "you're hurting the brand".
It's why George Lucas & Seth Green's Star Wars Detours was cancelled.
It's why Lord and Miller left Solo.
The brand can't change too much, apparently. As cheesy as it is, it has to be about Good vs Evil, it has to be about hope, etc.
So it gets relegated to other mediums. Qira and the Crimson Reign comic come to mind. She’s awesome, the whole Crimson Reign series is amazing... but I don’t think we’re gonna see anything like that in a movie.
If the story does have Force users?
On the one hand...
I think we already got it, and it's the majority of the Star Wars fandom who just couldn't handle it.
The Jedi in the Clone War are caught between a rock and a hard place. There's no morally right choices, there's only "less morally wrong" choices. They've been drafted into a war where they have to choose between the minor of two evils every day.
They're usually the guys who'll be the closest thing to perfection, but now they're gradually being sullied by the Republic's exploitation of their own compassion and sense of duty.
Every morally right choice they make also comes with a morally wrong consequence stuck to it. The more they fight, the more these servants of the Light Side make the Dark Side stronger... but if they don't fight, the Dark Side gets stronger even more rapidly.
And they can't help it because, again, they're being forced to do this. So all they can do is keep moving forward and hope for the best.
They're not the villains, but they're sure as hell not perfect. There's a nuance there.
But a very, very large part of the audience reacted to this as "the Jedi were evil hypocrites who sent child soldiers/slaves to their deaths and had Order 66 coming!"
On the other hand...
If you mean a story with "gray" morality in which the Force-sensitive characters themselves are "gray"... I dunno.
The way the Force works is that if you are "gray", you won't stay that way for long. At some point you either choose the Light or (much likelier) fall to the Dark Side.
In Legends, we've had Quinlan Vos and Cade Skywalker's stories echoing this.
These are both stories with morally "grey" protagonists who vacillate between the Light Side and the Dark Side, who use the Dark Side as a tool and think they can get away with it only to get dragged deeper down by it... but both stories end with the protagonist choosing the Light Side.
So those might be what you're looking for?
But the morality in those stories isn't gray, there's a very clear definition of what's good and what's evil... it's just the protagonist who is gray and their journey is about finally choosing and fully embracing the side of good.
Still, both Quin and Cade's stories are goddamn masterpieces.
For more info on "Gray Jedi", I talk more about it here.
In Canon, we have Bendu whose morals are very evidently “gray”... but he’s so neutral and passive that I don’t think you can center a story around him.
But yeah, beyond that... I don't know.
I don't think so, I'll tell you that. When a Force user is involved, I think that that's when Star Wars should be about good vs evil.
397 notes
·
View notes
Text
Byler and Water - Water is Bad
Hi.
I have a two-liter tub of fruit-flavoured dairy-free sorbet, a book hangover (just read Nona the Ninth, and no. I am not okay.), and an assignment due in less than two hours. This is a disclaimer: ethos and pathos don’t exist here. Only logos and a tired bitch remain.
But anyways, let’s start this. (this is also off the top of my head so i might revisit this later- like in three weeks to six months- if i feel like it)
S1:E1 - Rain (#1)
[Eleven standing in the rain, scared, in a large yellow t-shirt.]
Imagine there’s a picture there. So, right off the bat, we’re got rain. Weather symbolism is important, always is, but what I want to point out is the rain. Specifically, the water.
Start of the show, end of episode one, we’ve got water.
(finished my assignment, we’re not in danger of failing any classes. *puts on sunglasses with like, zero functionality* it’s analysis time)
So, let’s talk about water. But to talk about water, we’re got to acknowledge that the first time that we really see it emphasized is with the weather. It’s after Will is declared missing, Mike as our main character alongside Joyce, they’re both miserable this season. Losing Will in season one sets off everything.
Also important to note that the Upside Down, has an ever-present raging storm.
S1:E3 - The Quarry
[Will’s fake body being pulled out of the water.]
[Mike yelling at El.]
Just continuing with running through the major moments concerning water in season one, we’ve got the scene where they (the party) see Will’s fake body pulled from the water. Mike breaks down and yells at El and goes home. We all know the scene, alongside Jonathan and Joyce embracing in the middle of the street and heroes playing in the background.
Water-wise, we’ve got a whole lake full. At this point, water seems to have taken on some negative connotations. When Barb is taken and killed, she’s right over Steve’s pool. Bad vibes from water all around. Will’s missing, Barb dies, it seems like Will is dead: things are not looking good.
S1:E6 - The Quarry (Pt. 2: Electric Boogaloo)
[Mike looking down at the water below.]
[Mike jumping off of the cliff.]
Really, this is the quarry pt.3. The first occurrence of this was with Hopper. A funky little bit of foreshadowing in which we’re told that a fall from that height would kill anyone.
So, Will’s body gets pulled out of there. It’s most likely implied that they think he fell off of the cliff. (again, water’s bad. hot water, choppy water, hell or high water. Water is bad. I swear this is all going to make sense by the end of this. I do have a very clear point I’m trying to find my way to.) I say most likely because it’s never really stated, but it doesn’t seem like they were implying that he just drowned in the lake by swimming.
Anyways, Mike parallels this by basically doing the exact same thing as both Hopper was investigating and how Will’s body was implied to have gotten into the lake. In this episode we also have El screaming at her reflection and making the water in a pond ripple. So, there’s that too.
S1:E7 - Bathtub
[El in a make-shift sensory deprivation tank.]
(sorry, this was the only picture I had the energy to search for. I miss having half the post be pictures. But moving on-)
This episode is one I’d also like to mention because there are flashbacks to El’s experience in the lab with the sensory deprivation tank. The lab? Bad. Water? Bad. (There is a far better way to explain this, but I’ve got three more seasons to power through before I get to where I want to be. Please bear with me.)
Also, when El enters into the mind (scape?) she’s walking on water. While this may be the Jesus/religious allusions that tend to follow El, it’s also another way that tells us that water? Is bad.
When El finds Will, we see that he’s completely soaked. He’s shivering and weak and damp, and this is a bad sign. Water being associated with this, also indicates that the water, is a bad sign.
S1:E8 - Slugs
[Water running from the tap in the Byers’ home’s bathroom.]
[Will coughing up a slug into the sink.]
Water is present when something bad happens. And it is very present and shown to us very clearly. Will coughs up a slug into the sink and turns the tap on. The whole thing with the Quarry. El and the sensory deprivation tank. Rain. The storm in the Upside Down.
Water is bad, it’s clearly established now, at the end of season one, as a very bad sign.
And I’ve still got a point to make, so we push forward into season two.
S2:E4 - Likes it Cold
[The bathtub running in the Byers bathroom.]
The water in the scene where Will says, “he likes it cold” or something like that, is bad because of Will’s refusal of it. It’s warm water, a bathtub, and water and bathtubs also don’t have the best connotations based on previous uses of them.
But anyways, it’s still saying that water is bad.
(at the moment I’m running on summaries by episode online, which, isn’t the best way to try and remember visual symbolism at 12 AM but. It’s what’s happening. So, sorry season 2 Byler. I could only find one. Also, on a side note, when I was looking at the season one summaries, for the heroes scene in one of them- they literally didn’t even mention Mike. Like they skipped over him and Karen and went, welp, here’s Nancy and Karen in this episode. Like. m’dude. but anyways- season three)
Before I move on here, I’d like to take a moment to shout out to the storm in the Upside Down. It really starts to shine in this season. Water is bad. The storm is bad. Y’know?
That’s just how it is sometimes.
Season Three (Uhhh, couldn’t find a recap by episode. Welp.)
So, water. In season three. (i may have to come back to this one because I’m blanking.)
Straight into it, Byler rain fight.
Yes, this is the only one I’ve got pictures (scrounged for prior to this analysis-like three months ago) for.
Rain is never really a good thing. I mean, everything can change with context, but the context in Stranger Things says rain is bad. So I’m sticking to that line of reasoning.
It starts raining in this scene (and it rains when Hopper gets the shit kicked out of him, and when El and Max see weird shit with Billy, and basically when shit starts getting bad fast. All around, the rain is bad.) because Mike and Will are fighting.
I’d like to note that the same emphasis is placed on this scene as is placed on every other scene with this rain. These two are so plot-relevant that it hurts.
Anyways, Mike and Will’s relationship starting to crack, the rain pouring, the ‘Mid Flayer’ being back- all bad things.
Water.
Is bad.
Season 4 (i don’t even have the pictures i need for this one. And I have so many pictures of season four. Jeez.)
The absence of water.
And rain.
And storms.
They’re doing pretty alright here.
Then we get here.
Water.
Is.
Bad.
So, to recap a few things here so this makes sense: Mike and Will and their struggling friendship/ambiguous relationship, mending said relationship, Will lying about the painting.
Water is bad. It’s always been bad, it will always be bad, the baths are bad, anything to do with water is just a bad sign.
And Will is making the water run.
And him and Mike are working (as a team) together to fill up the freezer.
Basically, they’re gonna mess everything up.
Why’s Will looking at Mike with anticipation? Because he literally just told him to fix his and El’s relationship.
But the water is the key here. Because the water is such a bad sign.
This part of the scene where they’re getting everything set up, is to show just how bad Mike and Will are gonna fuck up.
Water
IS
BAD
Thank you for coming to my ted talk.
#byler theory#byler#waterisbad#mike wheeler#will byers#stranger things#it's 1AM#I am tired#but i can finally be free#and not being able to get the exact pics i wanted hurts me to#it just looks so sad#water theory#watergate
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
"What Should It Look Like?" Part V: The Air Force
This essay was originally published on January 27, 2023 and is a continuation of the "What Should It Look Like?" series.
In this entry, we go into the DANGER ZONE and I explain how drones aren't going to solve everything (I go into some other stuff too but that's a big part of it).
(Full essay below the cut).
Greetings, folks. We return once more to my “What Should It Look Like” series and oh boy, it’s time to go Up into the Wild Blue Yonder with the United States Air Force.
Air power is one of the most important aspects of modern warfare. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that, in a large-scale war between two state armies, air power is essential for victory. As we’ve seen in Ukraine, even if you can just deny your enemy’s control of the air and prevent either side from gaining dominance – as Ukraine has, you can buy yourself some serious breathing room and seriously frustrate their efforts. In that particular case, ground-based air defense assets also play a major role – but as Ukraine consistently asking for more combat aircraft (among other things) has shown, the planes themselves remain important.
With the absolutely critical nature of airpower established early on in this essay, I’m going to give you all a warning: this is going to be another long one. Because of how important air power is in modern war and because of all the facets to it, it was hard for me to cut things out for this one because so much felt important. So, if you’re feeling a little drowsy, now is probably not the time to dive into this essay – unless you want to brew some coffee first. But if you’re ready, willing, and/or caffeinated, let’s dive right in.
Quality vs. Quantity (and vice versa)
In the scenario we’ve been using throughout this series (I won’t rehash it completely again, so you can go read the original essay to refresh your memory), aircraft play a crucial – if not, arguably, the most crucial role. In particular, tactical aircraft (“TACAIR”; i.e. “fighter” aircraft and other smaller combat aircraft) are essential due to the fact they can cross long distances quickly to get to the theater of war and immediately begin operations to slow and hopefully halt the enemy advance, by providing Combat Air Patrols (CAP) to contest enemy air superiority and Close Air Support (CAS) to friendly ground forces to hold back enemy forces, conducing Suppression of Enemy Air Defense (SEAD) missions to help secure air superiority by destroying enemy anti-air, and other missions. In the study that served as one of the sources of inspiration for this planning scenario we’re using, air power is flagged as absolutely critical (and the centerpiece of the study). Within the first week of conflict breaking out in this scenario, air power is arriving to take on all the missions I just described and more, and to set the stage for all other operations occurring and to follow. Without air power in general and TACAIR in particular, nothing else we’ve discussed or will further discuss can really happen.
In order for a country like the United States to be able to do what I just describe in support of our scenario, they need to generate something we call “mass.” Simply put, you need to be able to muster up enough of something to do the job – or in military terms, “create the effect” – that you want them to do, successfully. This is all being done while keeping in mind that you’re doing that while being opposed by a peer or near-peer adversary military. This probably won’t come as a surprise, but in that kind of scenario, you’re going to need to generate a lot of mass in terms of TACAIR given the amount they’ll have to do – and also factoring in the unfortunate reality of combat losses and other forms of attrition that inevitably occur in warfare.
Now, you’d think that probably wouldn’t be an issue for the United States, as it possesses one of the largest air forces on the planet (technically, it has four of them – in terms of total aircraft numbers – if you count the Army, Navy, and Marine Corps as well). But that’s increasingly becoming a problem for them for a variety of reasons – with two major ones standing out: a shortage of pilots, and an issue we call “gold plating.”
The USAF has been struggling with a persistent shortage of pilots, so much so that it’s had to force higher ranking officers to fly in more junior positions or even bring pilots back from retirement. A key driver for this has been an issue with retaining pilots, as many simply get tired of the poor quality of life and culture that the USAF imposes on them, turning to much more attractive offers from private sector airlines. The USAF has already attempted some changes here in terms of increasing that quality of life and doing more to support service members and their families in general.
My only real input or suggestion here would be to go further and not bite around the edges and half-ass it as the services are want to do. Like I said regarding the Navy and its toxic Surface Warfare culture, and with military culture in general, “if you build it, they will come.” Maybe if the Air Force follows that maxim, they’ll find themselves hemorrhaging less pilots. Also, I’m going to beat my usual drum here that “maybe if we weren’t a sprawling empire trying to be everywhere at once that the strain on the services would not be near as high – nor would the resulting demands on personnel.” Finally, I do (begrudgingly) have to admit there’s some areas where the Air Force could benefit from utilizing more drones in place of crewed aircraft (more on that later), but that still require skilled service members, so the retention and quality of life issue continues to take center stage. Just make it suck less for them. Easy.
Now that we got the boring “human” dimension out of the way, we can talk more about what we are really nerds for: hardware. Specifically, the over-designing of it, something we call in the biz “gold plating.” It’s a tale as old as time in my field, but since the end of the Cold War it’s gotten particularly bad. When designing new platforms and systems, the United States has had a tendency to give in to “scope creep” and try and make these new weapons do anything and everything under the sun – and do it the best they possibly can. The result is you get weapon systems that are insanely expensive to produce and maintain (if they even make it to production without being cancelled) and often come with a host of various technical issues to boot. You also are likely to end up with far fewer of what you need – as well as with expensive weapons that commanders may be risk averse in putting in dangerous situations because they don’t want to lose them. In addition to costing more, it also tends to take longer these days to develop and field a new weapon than it traditionally has, for a variety of reasons. All of these factors fly directly in the face (ha ha, flying pun) in the imperative of generating sufficient mass for TACAIR.
As an example of this gold plating issue, I’m going to bring up everyone’s favorite high-tech aviation punching bag: the F-35. I’ve already talked at length in a prior piece about the entire debacle of the F-35 Lighting II Joint Strike Fighter, so I’ll try not to just rehash that whole piece here and give you some highlights. One of my major takeaways in that piece is that, while a 5th generation multirole combat aircraft is by no means a dumb idea – and in fact, a necessary one in a future fight against a peer adversary, the USAF made a crucial mistake by going “all in” on the F-35 making up the vast majority of its TACAIR fleet of the future.
Why was this a mistake? Two main reasons: first, because the F-35 in particular is essentially a gold-plated camel (a camel, the old joke goes, being a “horse designed by committee”). While it is not completely useless (the original concept of a 5th generation multi-role fighter was and remains valid) and some of its issues have been fixed, the F-35 is still plagued with issues that are often surrounded by DoD obfuscation. It also remains incredibly expensive and finicky to maintain and sustain even when operating correctly and even as some costs have been brought down over time. The F-35 has been made to do try and do too many things all at once, turning it into a flying complex of software bugs that loves to try and kill its pilots.
Second, while stealth combat aircraft are absolutely crucial in a peer-on-peer conflict, they are by no means infallible. Stealth has never been invincible, even when the United States had a monopoly on the technology back when it was first introduced. This was evidenced by the shoot-down of a stealth F-117 Nighthawk over Serbia during NATO’s Operation Allied Force in 1999 – with another F-117 being hit as well (though that one managed to make it back to base without crashing). These attacks were undertaken with 1960s-era Soviet-made surface-to-air missiles and radars – which, when utilized correctly, could detect stealth aircraft. Technology has come a long way since the 1990s (or the 1960s for that matter). While some like to downplay the risk to U.S. stealth aircraft, it’s never as simple as they depict it. It’s not unreasonable to expect a technologically sophisticated peer adversary (like China) could develop tools enabling it to better find, fix, target, and attack stealth aircraft – if not now, in the near to mid future. Stealth absolutely has a use case but depending upon that as the sole advantage of a platform – or a fleet – at the expense of qualities like speed, range, maneuverability, payload, and more, is very risky.
Even without the risk, there are areas where you encounter situations where an expensive, high-end aircraft seems like overkill when it comes to the mission its undertaking. For example: why would you want to assign a high tech, penetrating stealth fighter to a mission like air defense of friendly territory? Why does it matter (outside of showing off) if the fighters you’re scrambling are stealthy or not when you know an enemy is on the way and they know you’ll scramble to meet them? In that case, what may matter more are sensors – either on board the aircraft or linked to it – and its ability to carry a lot of ordinance and fuel. The same could apply to stand-off strike or air defense missions where the aircraft doesn’t necessarily need to penetrate enemy air defenses to fire ordinance like long-range missiles. This is to say nothing of a fight against an adversary that isn’t as technologically advanced. A high-end stealth fighter isn’t required for every mission and there are efficiencies to be gained from an appropriate mix of high-end, more exquisite platforms, and less advanced platforms that you can get more of and do the job “alright” and may actually have advantages over high-end platforms in key areas like range or payload. We call that sort of thing a “high-low” mix in the biz and its nothing new.
The USAF also seems poised to potentially make this mistake again with its bomber fleet as it prepares to introduce the new B-21 Raider bomber that has been developed as a replacement for its B-1B Lancer and eventually for the B-2 Spirit bomber. In the B-21’s defense, while it is a high-end stealth bomber like the infamously expensive B-2 Spirit, it is (on paper) supposed to be far cheaper than that aircraft was (though it will also be smaller and thus have a smaller payload capacity). But the key question is, why does the majority of the USAF’s bomber fleet need to be made up of penetrating stealth bombers, when the enemy we plan on fighting against has a large air-defense network that is only growing larger and more sophisticated? Maybe having some of the bomber fleet be aircraft like B-21s makes sense, but is the juice really worth the squeeze in terms of having the majority of the fleet be made up of them?
This is one of those areas where the USAF may be doing the right thing at the same time its doing (maybe) the wrong thing, as at the same time its introducing the B-21 it is also preparing to keep the B-52 Stratofortress in service into the 2050s. With new engines giving it renewed life, the B-52 could be assigned to the role of primarily being a bus to carry long-range missiles it can fire at stand-off distance (though oddly enough it still can drop ‘dumb’ bombs and still practices how to do that which is kinda cool). While some instance sin war may call for a bomber that will attempt to penetrate enemy air defenses, do you really need every bomber to do that when what you may need more of is a big, dumb, missile bus that has a long range and long-range ordinance that can launch its ordinance and go home? Hell, we even thought about doing this with 747s back in the day (among other, crazier ideas) and I’m starting to wonder if we shouldn’t bring that idea back. Sometimes you need something expensive and stealthy, but sometimes you just need something big to carry stuff.
This is an area where we may be able to learn something from China’s approach to a high-low mix in combat aircraft, as they’ve been doing a lot of things that I think we should be doing. Even as they’ve designed and are now producing 5th generation fighters like the J-20 – and soon the smaller J-31/FC-31, an analogue to the F-35 that is also intended for export as well as domestic military use – they’ve continued to produce 4.5 generation fighters like the J-16 (a Chinese analogue to the Russian Su-35 “Flanker”) and the smaller and cheaper J-10 – another tactical aircraft that is also directed at the export market as well as the People’s Liberation Army. Even as they work to develop their own stealth bomber, they’re still actually producing new versions of the 1950s vintage H-6 “Badger” bomber that are capable of firing cruise missiles – and even air-launched ballistic missiles – in a role similar to that of the “missile bus” B-52 or 747 described prior. While appreciating the value of high end, low-observable aircraft, China seemed to hedge their bets in adopting that technology and now it may very well put them in a better position to generate mass in terms of airpower in a potential high-end conflict.
Ultimately, I don’t know what the right “high-low” mix is if you’re looking for an exact number – whether it be for bombers or fighters or whatever. That’s something that would need more careful study and examination than I can provide here. What I can say with some degree of confidence is that while high-end stealth aircraft definitely have a role, they probably should not make up the majority of a combat aircraft fleet. This is yet another area where the services – and the air force in particular – have either bit around the edges or danced back and forth on making the right choice. While the Air Force was planning on buying more of the 4.5 generation F-15EX, those buys are now being curtailed. And while the Chief of Staff of the Air Force identified a potential need for a “budget conscious” 4.5 generation fighter a couple years ago to replace aging F-16s, he then had the gall to claim in the same breadth to suggest that we need to do a “clean sheet” (i.e. brand new) design from scratch, taking up time, money, and my sanity in the process. This was despite the fact that, in addition to the F-15EX, we have other 4.5 generation fighters in production now in the form of the F/A-18E and the F-16V. Thankfully, it seems that the Air Force has now walked back this “clean sheet” idea and is instead looking at the more sensible plan of upgrading around 600 of its F-16s to this new model, but I swear to God sometimes the military makes me feel like I’m taking crazy pills with how they act.
I’m going to try desperately to wrap this section up now so I can move on to the next one by giving you a very high-level idea of what we should do regarding combat aircraft in general – both for TACAIR and for bombers (keeping in mind I don’t have exact numbers for you). First, buy fewer exquisite, gold-plated systems like the F-35 (while acknowledging you’re still going to need a fair amount of them). Second, buy more modernized versions of proven systems or upgrade packages to bring existing systems up to that standard. Third, and finally, for the love of God try not to make the same mistakes we’ve made with things like the F-35 and more when it comes to the new 6th Generation of TACAIR that is currently under development – in the form of Next Generation Air Dominance (NGAD) for the USAF and F/A-XX for the Navy. We literally cannot afford it – both in terms of money and resources, but also in terms of the potential consequences if we screw up yet again and create another gold-plated camel. Yes, systems like that are going to be expensive no matter what, but we can still do more to make it so they can be a bit more cost effective and at least be good value for money in doing their jobs well (and maybe not trying to actively kill their pilots in the course of doing their duties).
Droning on and on
Before I start off this section, I want to make something clear: I am not inherently anti-UAV (UAVs of course being Unmanned or Uncrewed Aerial Vehicles – commonly referred to as “drones”). As I will explain in this section, I think there are plenty of uses for drones in modern military operations and I would be pretty dumb and shortsighted to argue against their use whole-cloth. My issues with drones are with the idea of them taking on every role, replacing most – if not all – crewed aircraft. I am very firmly against this for both legal, ethical, and moral reasons, as well as concerns about the actual military risk involved from a variety of vectors. But I’ll got into that more shortly. I just wanted to put that disclaimer right up front.
Drones have already been a hot topic in every sense of the term since they came more into the public eye during the Global War on Terrorism (GWOT), but they’ve become even more of a topic du jure in recent years due to their prominence in conflicts occurring in places like that between Yemen and the Saudi-led coalition on the Arabian Peninsula, between Armenia and Azerbaijan, within Ethiopia, and – of course, by both sides in Ukraine. Drones of various types have played key roles in those conflicts, and have been highly publicized in that regard, which has led a number of self-proclaimed “experts” to extrapolate from those conflicts to make sweeping generalizations and wild predictions about the future utility of drones in combat and the “obsolescence” of crewed aircraft and various other legacy military platforms.
The first thing you need to realize about drones in order to come to a more sensible understanding of their strengths and limitations, is that they are just aircraft that don’t have a person on board. That’s it. The first advantage they gain by not having a crew on board is that its more space you can add for other things like more fuel, sensors and optics, weapons, and more. The second obvious advantage of a drone is you can send it into dangerous situations without putting a human air crew in danger – which is good both in the sense that its nice when people don’t have to die, but also in that you’re not having to spend time, money, and energy to replace that air crew. You also have to realized that a lot of the footage we’ve seen of drones in combat on social media places like Ukraine – or really, combat footage we see in general – are brief snapshots in time of a particular aspects or moment in a war. You’re rarely seeing the whole picture, but it can be all too easy to make sweeping judgements based off of a series of these snapshots without additional context. This is something that all analysts can fall prey to.
Ok, so we’ve established that drones are a hot topic these days. We’ve established that a lot of big brains on the internet have very strong opinions about how great they are. While I could spend a whole essay writing about how they are dumb and wrong (and I probably will at some point – I’m surprised I haven’t already), now I’m going to jump to telling you why – in my opinion – it’s a bad idea for you to have an air force that is almost entirely drones, even if they should be used in some capacity for some roles.
First, it’s a bad idea because of the ethical, legal, and moral implications. I should clarify here that, when I’m talking about this, I’m talking specifically about full or partial automation of a drone and its decision-making process on using force, not just some guy piloting it from a shipping container in Arizona. Obviously, human beings are not infallible, and the United States has had more than its share of black stains on its soul for unpunished war crimes that occurred due to incompetence, malice, or what have you, when it comes to undertaking aerial warfare. That being said, a human – especially if they are properly trained and are coming out of an environment that doesn’t encourage them being a psychopath – is very likely to make decisions or judgement calls that an AI automated drone would not, like potentially showing mercy.
Second, having an entirely drone based air force is a bad idea due to the fact that drones – just like any aircraft or any military platform in general – have inherent weaknesses and shortcomings that a peer enemy will actively be trying to exploit. If you want a drone to fly more than a couple hundred kilometers away from the ground station that is controlling it by line-of-sight data-link, than you need satellites. With that in mind, the U.S. military has already made it abundantly clear that in a war against a peer adversary it is expecting all of its command, control, communications, and intelligence (C3I) capabilities to be disrupted by the adversary – especially space-based assets like satellites. This could make operating drones at long or short distances varying degrees of challenging to impossible.
This is to say nothing of the ways you can disrupt an individual drone aside from going after the broader C3I network enabling it. We’ve already seen insurgents hack U.S. reconnaissance drone feeds in the past, with Iran claiming to have done the same thing – and also claiming to have brought down a drone through hacking. Drones, just like any other computerized system reliant on outside data, are going to vulnerable to disruption, be it by hacking, or by electronic warfare (i.e. EW or “jamming”) disrupting its sensors, its datalink back to its command, or its link to the global positioning system so it doesn’t even know where it is, where it’s going or what time it is (yeah, GPS helps coordinate time; did you know that? Well now you do). Drones are not only just as vulnerable to these disruptions as any crewed platform, in some ways you could argue they are actually more vulnerable to them. A pilot in an aircraft should – if said pilot is properly trained and equipped – be able to respond to these disruptions in a way a drone is unable to. Putting all your eggs in one basket by not having any crewed aircraft that could do the same job seems like a huge liability to me.
A final subset of my second point here that I wanted to call out, is also the fact that true artificial intelligence (i.e., “AI”), still hasn’t been achieved and its arguable if it is even real or technically feasible or capable of making certain decisions. A lot of what passes for “AI” these days isn’t actually truly “AI” in the science-fiction case. What it usually amounts to is something “dumber” than an AI, or – as one of my favorite podcasts, Trashfuture, loves to point out: often is “just a guy” (in that it’s just a human doing the things you think AI is doing or faking that an AI is doing it). Additionally, what passes for AI today (and is arguably not actually AI) is also surprisingly easy to trick or fool or lull into patterns that may not be helpful, even without hitting it with hacking or jamming. Just look at how we’ve made “AI” sexist and racist just by interacting with them. Suffice to say, full automation may not even be possible, or at least may not be possible for decades or generations, which is just another reason not to go all-in on drones as the backbone of an air force as they may not even be capable of doing the things that “Drone Bros” think they are (or at least won’t be able to do them worth a damn)
There are absolutely areas in which drones could take over a large amount of the work – if not all – from humans, that are primarily in combat support areas that don’t necessarily involve being a “trigger puller.” We’ve already seen this to a large extent with UAVs becoming the primary intelligence gathering aircraft for the US military – though we still retain a number of Cold War-era platforms like the famous U-2 “Dragon Lady” spy plane.
But intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) aren’t the only areas where drones can either lighten the load or take it over. Take airborne early warning and control (AEW&C) aircraft that help direct fighter aircraft at incoming threats. Those are typically converted airliners that require a large number of skilled personnel to man, and in a wartime scenario would be in high demand with a lot of strain placed on them. Those traditional AEW&C platforms could be supplemented by drones equipped to do the same role. You could also purpose task AEW&C drones to be on the lookout for certain threats over others, like missiles and stealth aircraft. As early as 2015, China had already built a prototype UAV that could fulfill an AEW&C role. The same idea has been mooted in the US – though it’s been met with some degree of skepticism by traditionalists (I should be one to talk though I suppose). The bigger point here though, is even if AEW&C UAVs can’t do the job quite as well as a legacy platform and don’t replace them entirely, they could be assigned to lower risk areas to monitor for aerial threats to allow the more capable crewed platforms to operate in higher-priority areas. And remember how I was talking about drones being vulnerable to EW? Well, turns out they could actually be used to dish it out as well as take it – another thing that China has been working on.
This is the logic I extend to drones in combat too – in the limited capacity that I would accept them as such. When it comes to combat, the main contribution that drones could make is not replacing crewed aircraft, but by supplementing and supporting them. This is the idea of the “loyal wingman” Uncrewed Combat Aerial Vehicle (UCAV), which is where you take several UCAVs and link them under the control of a pilot or aircrew in a crewed aircraft as they proceed on a mission. This is sort of the happy medium between letting drones do whatever they want, and not using them in combat roles at all. The drones have some amount of autonomy, but ultimately follow the orders of the crewed aircraft and don’t use lethal force without the crewed aircraft’s permission. Their role here is to supplement and augment the crewed aircraft to add that additional mass we talked about earlier that is necessary for a successful air campaign (especially if pilot shortages continue to persist). Losing a UCAV that is (ideally) cheaper to build than a plane and doesn’t result in the death or grievous injury of a pilot is also a more acceptable loss – especially when you’re going into a contested area.
This isn’t just about satisfying LME concerns or dealing with pilot shortages and losses, however. It’s also about hedging your bets and preventing yourself from being vulnerable. I already mentioned how drones and the C3I networks supporting them can be vulnerable to electronic warfare and hacking among other things, and that the U.S. military is preparing to fight a peer conflict with severe disruptions to C3I. By having a pilot flying with UCAVs and still being in the loop, that can mitigate some of these disruptions. If you can’t connect to a communications satellite to give a drone orders, it won’t matter as much because it’s not trying to contact a distant ground station, it’s trying to reach the fighter jet flying right next to it. Same applies if GPS is disrupted. A properly trained and equipped pilot can still use a compass and a map to get to their target, and the drones just need to tag along and follow them. It’s not foolproof, of course. Drones could still be disrupted in other ways that we’ve already covered earlier, but it reduces the degree to which drones could be disrupted. In a worst-case scenario, if the “loyal wingmen” fail completely, you still have one or two crewed aircraft that can respond to a developing situation more dynamically and make a judgement call on whether to continue on mission or not. It’s about making sure you have redundancy and haven’t gone “all in” on something that is more vulnerable.
“…and The Rest!”
There’s only so much I can write about in these essays before they start to become a thesis or a book (though maybe I should write one someday). A good portion of this essay so far has been taken up by me discussing the high-low mix and drones. This was a conscious but difficult choice on my part to focus on these areas because I think these are two that are going to be highly consequential, but I didn’t want to allow you to talk away thinking those were the only main issues to consider when thinking about what an effective air force should look like in the future for the type of scenario we’ve been using as our benchmark.
For our scenario, strategic airlift (i.e., long-range cargo planes) will play a key role. While most of the troops, equipment, and materiel will get to a warzone by ship, airlift will play a key role in quickly transporting the first wave of combat troops into a theater, as well as other high-priority logistics. Airlift is an area in which the United States still is the undisputed champion, but while facing persistent issues. Like with many areas of the military, the airlift fleet has been operating at a high tempo as aircraft available have decreased. I feel the easy answer here is to reduce the strain put on the airlift fleet day today by the demand of constant global operations. This ties back to our overall philosophy of not being an imperial power and trying to enable allies and partners across the globe to provide for their own defenses as much as possible on a day-to-day basis so we don’t have to try and be everywhere at once and can reduce the demand on key assets like airlift – leaving more available for when a major war pops up.
I also find it kind of interesting now that strategic airlifters like the C-5 and C-17 are out of production that the United States is producing no heavy airlifters and there hasn’t yet been a serious discussion by the USAF of what comes after the C-5 and C-17. That’s definitely something to be thinking about, given how important airlift is and will remain – and perhaps an opportunity to incorporate nascent technologies allowing for fuel efficiency – which not only may ease financial and resource strain but could ease the strain on the environment.
Another key capability for this scenario are tanker aircraft. Capable of refueling other aircraft in mid-flight, tankers are essential to being able to fight across the globe. Without tankers, you’d have to rely on leapfrogging between various airfields to refuel and reach your destination – something that is neither efficient, nor would you be guaranteed access to. Again, this is an area where my main suggestion is to reduce the strain by trying to reduce our global footprint so we have more forces available for a major contingency, but this also an area where the main problem is not just imperialism but capitalism and the military industrial complex. Also, much like with airlifters, the USAF has had some issues here.
Trying to procure new tanker aircraft has been something of a white whale for the USAF for years. Its newest tanker – the Boeing KC-46 A Pegasus – has been plagued with technical issues with key refueling systems (as well as just generally shoddy production practices). Meanwhile, a decade’s long quest to try and procure an off-the-shelf “bridge” tanker before it designs a clean sheet tanker of the future has also faced an uphill climb and now may not even happen, with the possibly opting to buy more troubled KC-46As. This speaks to wider issues with both procurement and the state of the industrial base (both of which deserve essays in their own right – I’m deciding if they’ll occur in this series or not). One way or another though, given how critical tanker aircraft are to our scenario, its something that will need to be unscrewed and quickly if it is to be at all viable. We need tankers, and specifically we need tankers that actually work most of the time. Additionally, in regards to future tankers, much like with stealth bombers and “missile trucks” we’ll need to think about how many tankers need to be stealthy and fancy and how many just need to be big flying fuel tanks. Likewise, this is another area where drones can play a role to add additional mass – and already are, in fact.
Likewise, I think strategic forces (i.e., nuclear weapons) will need to be an essay in their own right due to the interdependent nature of the nuclear triad of land-based missiles, aircraft, and submarines. I actually suddenly realized as I was thinking about the USAF’s fleet of intercontinental ballistic missiles and aircraft-deployed nuclear bombs that I completely forgot to talk about this in my essay on the Navy and I mostly overlooked their ballistic missile submarines. I’m still figuring out the best way to broach my thoughts on nuclear weapons in general too, so that’s another reason I’m going to punt talking about them until a later date and stick to the conventional forces for now. Rest assured, however, that they will be addressed. Same with special operations forces, which I’m also going to be dealing with in a separate essay dealing with them as a whole across the joint force. So, stay tuned on that front.
I’m sure there are other things I’m missing, but as I repeatedly say, I’m trying to avoid writing a book here so I’m trying to limit myself to the most important concepts and capabilities – which are purely subjective opinions on my part. For example: I was reminded the other night that I haven’t really covered the culture issues within the USAF – in particular, its history with Evangelicalism and religion in general. I already touched on culture a bit in a more general sense in my recruitment essay that I linked earlier in this essay (what was that a thousand y ears ago?), but forgive me for not diving into it here in detail with how much this thing keeps growing. Very briefly: I think it’s a problem and that it needs to be dealt with – along with many other cultural issues in the Air Force and elsewhere (yet another thing to deal with in another essay).
At any rate, if I haven’t talked about whatever your area of expertise or hyper-fixation is in, I apologize. Rest assured, I probably think it’s important and something that we should have in the future, but there’s just only so much ground I can cover in one of these before both peoples’ eyes – including my own – start to glaze over. Sorry.
Finishing this up before I pass the hell out
I’ve been rambling on for what has to be an all-time War Takes record, so I’m going to keep this conclusion short and sweet.
I’ve already said it multiple times in the body of this essay: air power is essential to success in a modern war. While air power alone does not guarantee victory (something we’ve seen in wars past where one side tried to win almost solely through air power and found out the hard way that’s not possible), it cannot be achieved without it either. Control of the air is vital, and you need a large and robust mix of capabilities and competencies to do that – not just one “silver bullet” that happens to be the flavor of the week on Twitter.
If we’re at all serious in this fantasy better world I’m imagining of being able to reach across the globe to help like-minded allies and partners who come under attack in the spirit of democratic socialist internationalism, if we don’t build the proper air force for it there’s no point in bothering. Air power will be the first wave that will blunt the enemy attack and then set the conditions for a counterattack that will push them out of friendly territory and neutralize them as a threat for the immediate future. Air power is absolutely critical to the success of any campaign and I’m going to leave it at that before I repeat myself further.
That’s all for now. I know this one was a slog to write, but I hope it’s useful in some way to those of you who made it all the way to the end. After two years or so of writing this “What Should It Look Like” series, we’re (maybe) getting close to the end, so let’s hang in there and see if we can make. I’m gonna go turn my brain off for a bit after writing this, but as always, all of you stay safe out there until next time.
#essay#War Takes#War Takes Essay#leftism#leftist#socialism#democratic socialism#international relations#IR#national security#national defense#international security#foreign policy#foreign affairs#united states air force#usaf#us air force#U.S. Air Force#UAVs#unmanned aerial vehicles#drones#F-35#F-35 Lightning II#Joint Strike Fighter#Loyal Wingman
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
“No,” Tristan said. “We’re talking Tattletale.”
Over near the staff that had been made with the dead tree, Chris was lying in the grass, arms and legs spread, staring up at the sky.
“He’s okay?” I asked.
“He’s fine,” Kenzie said.
As if responding, Chris chuckled to himself, lying in the grass near the base of the hill.
“The Undersiders took over Brockton Bay, and they did it with Tattletale on point for most of it. I’m not a hundred percent sure on any of this, but you can look at the events in the city starting with her taking power. Bank robbery, Undersiders succeed, they run into the Wards, me, and my sister. Tattletale insinuates knowledge of my sister’s deepest secrets, and mine. My sister goes off the deep end. ABB are provoked following an arrest of their leader and an interaction with the Undersiders, with Tattletale. They’re toppled with a concerted effort on the part of the villains, with intel passed to the heroes by the villains.”
“By Tattletale,” Tristan said.
“In large part. Empire Eighty-Eight get outed, secret identities revealed. Undersiders are the focus of the blame, and a number of people die in the ensuing rampage. Weeks and months of violence and chaos in Brockton Bay feed into the Endbringer attack on the city. Half of my family died because of that.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sveta said.
I reached out for her hand and gave it a waggle. “It should be noted that in the hospital after the attack, Tattletale talked to the leaders of various hero teams about Leviathan’s strengths and weaknesses. Info that was then used to beat down Behemoth enough to let Scion finish him off.”
“That could be a coincidence,” Rain said.
He didn’t say it in a dismissive way. He said it like he was a little scared, and he wanted something to cling to.
I wanted to drive reality home, though. Better to scare him and have him alive than the alternative.
“Possibly. But I’m more inclined to see her as a force multiplier or a kind of thinker version of what you do with your power, creating weak points for others to capitalize on. We see a lot of these coincidences. After the Endbringer, the Slaughterhouse Nine visit and do a hell of a lot of damage, but they also lose several key members. The weaknesses of several key members are revealed and the members are removed.”
“You might want to go easy on talking about those guys when Ashley gets back,” Kenzie said.
“Okay,” I said. “It’s just one data point in a series. The last remaining mastermind of the city falls, Coil. The PRT directors die. Twice, in quick succession. Weaknesses are targeted and capitalized on. Alexandria dies in Brockton Bay, at the hands of a girl who had apparently wanted to be a hero, but who was converted to the villains’ side. Flechette, a hero, a minor friend of mine? Apparently converted. Accord edges into the Undersiders’ turf. He dies when the Behemoth fight happens. What do you think happens with his resources and power? Because I’m betting it’s the same as what happened with Coil’s.”
“And now she runs one of the major settlement points,” Rain said. He still sounded spooked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t have all of the information, but she got to that point by being one of the masterminds and playing the game well. She was aggressive when the city was vulnerable and she was passive when it wasn’t. The moment Gold Morning came around, I get the impression she mobilized hard, she was ready to expand and capitalize on the situation with more of that aggression. Again, I’m not 100% on all of that. But I can say with reasonable confidence that she’s one of the most dangerous, capable people on Gimel.”
-
This is the other passage, by the way. Me when I'm not falling for the person I want to oppoose's gambit so hard by believing in the mask.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dissecting The Cleaning Lady, Episode 2x05 “The Brit”
Okay, I know I am SO BEHIND on these. I’m going to try and pump out episodes 2-4 over the next few weeks but I just HAD to talk about this episode. So many interesting things, so much evolution in writing. And Lou Diamond Philip’s directing was beautiful. It’s a long one, let’s dive in:
ROBERT KAMDAR
Let me begin by stating that I am such a fan of Kamdar, or rather- what he has the potential to become. There is so much potential and character literally oozing out of Naveen Andrews and my only complaint is that Naveen is being under-utilized. I feel like they’ve told me each and every episode who he is and how much power he holds in Vegas, and yet, I still don’t actually know anything about him. I love the fact that they want to have the characters talk about how dangerous he is, but I want the writers to stop telling me and actually show me. Typically, letting the audience arrive at a conclusion (though it may be a guided arrival) is more impactful than constantly telling them of the imminent danger. We are in the second chapter of this story, we understand the inherent danger looming over everything and everyone- and even though we’re introducing new characters, I still need to feel like they fit into the world we’ve established immediately. And while I don’t feel like Kamdar doesn’t fit, I also am not sure exactly how he fits in.
Let me better explain with some examples of ushering in a major character or major facts about that character:
Lately, I’ve been watching House of the Dragon (potential spoiler warning for anyone very behind or who has not, but plans on watching the show). There is the now infamous scene when Alicent Hightower enters the engagement dinner mid-King’s speech all dressed in green. Now, we don’t know House Hightower very well, at least we didn’t until we got further into this season, so the writers felt it important for us to be as familiar with these houses as we were in the original Game of Thrones. The issue is that they took what would have already stood alone as a truly brilliant show of strength and introduction to the house, at large- and dumbed it down, lessening the impact. We saw her wearing green, her house color and the way her house (also in green) reacted. We knew what it meant, but they still had a character explain what it meant.
This is similar to Kamdar. That first scene with Thony was so powerful and uncomfortable and left a lasting impression on us all, but after giving us a taste of who he is- they’ve proceeded to explain his power every episode rather than show it. Yes, he has Arman doing things for him, but I want to see Kamdar in action. I want to watch this man, who is clearly a wizard with his words and deeds, scare us.
I’ve often said that this show is heavily inspired by Breaking Bad and I feel that Kamdar’s character is inspired by Gus Frig from that show, arguably one of the best written, most insidious villains on television. Much like Kamdar, he was the Kingpen of all criminal activities in that show, and though seemingly unassuming at first glance- one conversation with him let you know just how lethal he could be. The difference is that we got to watch that unfold with Gus, on here- we haven’t yet. I’m fine with little hints into who Kamdar is and it makes sense to discuss him as a threat, but I wish we got to see more of that threat for ourselves.
Last thing on him: I have been a fan of Naveen for most of my life, and something that always excites me about his performances is the subtlety he has in his gestures and looks. He doesn’t ever approach a character in an obvious, over the top way. My favorite characters of his are the ones that have this sense of curiosity to them, quietly drawing you closer with each passing moment. He’s so phenomenal in how he does this, and I want them to give him more screen time and more to work with for the audience to really see that. Especially with the scenes between Kamdar and Nadia. While I definitely feel the connection between them, all of their scenes together are too short to really let you feel that intensity and passion, and let me tell you, Naveen Andrews knows how to give a loving, baring my soul with only my eyes scene in a way that makes you weak in the knees. He just feels too confined right now.
FIONA
It is ABOUT DAMN TIME that we learn more about Fiona’s past relationships and Jazz’s father! I’ve been wanting to explore this side of Fiona for so long, and I’m excited that we finally get to. This has truly been her season, and the growth and resilience of her character has been one of my favorite things. Martha’s managed to steal just about every single scene that she’s in, and really make the depth of Fiona’s emotions and inner conflict feel so real. I don’t have much to comment on, where Fi is concerned, in this episode outside of the fact that having Fi working at at a showgirl club that will undoubtedly have some drag queens at some point was a fantastic choice and will hopefully be a excellent source of growth for her. (And Thony.) I’m keeping my eye on Fi these next few episodes because I feel like we’re about to have some major movement on her character with the return of JD.
GARRETT
First of all, I LIVE for an unexpected drag queen scene in any show, so that was an absolute delight and also shout out to the show for celebrating the drag culture in Vegas and painting it in such a powerful tone. Seeing Garrett have such respect for someone and not try to play games with them was refreshing and truly the scene he needed.
Okay, let’s chat about this man. I do not hate Garrett, he annoys me, but I think that’s a bit of the point. I do, however, believe that the writers are being extremely smart with how they approached his character last season. Garrett was never a bad character, but the reality is that even Oliver Hudson couldn’t make him charming when he existed in a space where he’s a privileged white man coming for a group of minorities just trying to take care of their family. Making Fi and Thony his targets was never going to make him everyone’s favorite FBI agent. As well, the only person to hold him accountable was a white woman who also constantly got him out of trouble. His partner, though a black woman, was severely under-used and barely made an appearance after a few episodes. So, Garrett was always going to look like the incompetent antagonist, even if we’re supposed to view all of them in this grey area. As much as I am a fan of Liza Weil and was intrigued by Russo, I think that is was a smart decision to move away from the Garrett/Russo dynamic this season. I’m not entirely sure why that happened (perhaps Liza had another opportunity come up but already committed to the first season?), but the introduction of Agent Jefferson was incredibly smart. Garrett and the FBI could not exist in this world and tone of the show without having a more grounded presence and reality; and Jefferson compliments Garrett so well while also holding his feet to the fire for everything.
I am excited to see how Garrett’s story proceeds this season, especially now that he, Thony, and Arman are working together. Perhaps the funniest thing he said was during the final scene of this episode when he told Arman to “shut his face.” It’s scenes like this that we need more of, because they show us so much of what makes Garrett a likable character and even necessary character. We had a few glimpses last season, but I really want his character to mean more to us all.
NADIA
I truly need to make an entirely separate post on Nadia. I love her, and I’m excited to see more of her in action this season, but I also need them to give her more screen-time and more interaction with Robert that isn’t used solely to make Arman jealous. So far, we know more about how smart she is and that she was in a backwoods bar- but I would love a montage of Nadia truly working the floor and a chance to see her in her element the way we do when Thony cleans or performs medical procedures. I want to see Nadia in all of her power, and I want to see Kamdar’s reaction to it all.
When it comes to Arman, truthfully- I want Nadia to be the one who leaves him. Don’t get me wrong, this is a toxic relationship on both sides and they’re both holding onto something that is dead at this point, but she is so hurt and feels so alone in this relationship and I want to see her truly take a stand against that. Let’s have Nadia and Kamdar go into true business together and be rivals to Thony and Arman. Let’s see Nadia in her mob boss era.
Also, on the Morales’ marriage- it truly is over. I don’t think that there’s really any coming back from the state it was in before the show even began. From day one, we’ve seen that they love each other, but also aren’t happy together. And now that we know that Kamdar was the one to bring Nadia into this world, this life- it kind of makes the story between her and Arman even more devastating- she truly is the string representing his connection to a version of himself that he detests. And even though Nadia doesn’t want him to suffer and “lower himself,” as she puts it; she also doesn’t truly care about doing things that are legit and benefit people outside of them. She’s not a bad person, and she’s selfish because she had to be to survive. But Nadia needs to make sure that she’s taken care of, and I feel before Arman even met Thony, he was starting to feel a bit lost- and that their trouble started there. To me, it seems like they were too people that burned hot and fast when all that mattered was getting ahead; but once Arman’s moral compass started to conflict, once his emotions got in the way (remember, before he even really got that involved with Thony’s life, he was hesitant to ask Hayak for something because he didn’t want to fracture their relationship) their relationship started to shift because they no longer had one common goal for their future and their family. I feel for Nadia because she is with someone that doesn’t appreciate her the way that he should; but I also feel for Arman because he’s in a relationship with someone that loves and appreciates the version of himself that he used to be- but can’t love or accept the person he’s been evolving into.
Someone else on here said it best: at this point, it is easier for them to point fingers and blame each other, Thony, and Kamdar than it is to just say the truth.
THONY AND ARMAN
Okay, this is probably the longest chunk- so, if you are still reading: steady on.
At the club
I love seeing Thony so unphased by both Nadia and Arman. I can only imagine how extremely uncomfortable and confusing it must be to have Arman act one way with just her (usually) and then become almost an entirely different person with Nadia. Twice now, she’s felt disrespected by them both and though they may have not appreciated how she spoke to them, she knew that if she didn’t make her feelings plain and shut that shit down, they would just ignore her. Which they did anyway, BUT they did it feeling a little butt hurt because my girl gave a quick read and walked away without so much of a look back.
The Fight
Okay, so I genuinely had to pause the episode, walk away, and then come back a few minutes later after Thony and Arman’s argument. I was so angry and disappointed with how he spoke to her that I couldn’t even handle it in the moment, but now- we get to dissect!
First I want more Bosco, but I’m loving the little nuggets of him that we get. The evolution of not only Thony but his respect for her and for, clearly, how much she means to Arman is fascinating. The first time they met, he was short and curt with her and she was scared of him. Now, she’s fine greeting him before Arman, their hsaking hands, and he refers to her as “sister,” much like how he calls Arman “hermano.” It’s a small detail, but it paints a larger picture of how much things have changed and how people that Thony was once afraid of are starting to respect and like her.
Now, the actual fight was necessary but also heartbreaking. On the one hand, Arman was right- he has done so much for Thony without a second thought. On the other hand, why do something for someone out of love and loyalty if you’re just going to throw it back into their face? Because that isn’t a show of love, that’s a show of “I did this for you, and now you owe me.” But love and friendship is doing something for someone because you want to help them, not because you expect something in return. Again, at the same time, if you are a loyal partner or friend and you’ve maintained that position of being someone that shows up- you should absolutely expect the other person to show up for you. Because these things are not one-sided. I was toying with this dichotomy back and forth until I realized something: both Arman and Thony were correct and valid in their feelings, but the issue came from Arman’s delivery and the way in which he chose to go about it and that informed the rest of the episode.
Arman is used to sharing low blow for low blow with Nadia. At this point, it’s become his normal. He equates this tit for tat to being in a relationship, when in reality, it isn’t healthy to fight with your partner that way. To him, from Nadia to Hayak, love comes with some form of abuse- even if it is mutual- because that’s just a part of getting ahead. It’s something you have to put up with. For Thony, she’s used to these kind of arguments and has definitely exchanged her share of low blows (let me remind you of the way she dragged Arman two inches from his face until he had to walk away last season). Her relationship with Marco mirrored this aspect of Arman and Nadia. (We saw just how much from Marco’s father.) The difference is that Thony doesn’t believe that this is love- she knows that it isn’t- and she doesn’t want to go back to that anymore.
There was this beautiful, split second moment when Thony caught herself from saying something she would regret, and instead delivered a measured response in the midst of her anger- because she cared too much about Arman to hurt him. Arman, however, still needs to learn how to do that.
Everyone’s default way to try and knock Thony down a peg is to call her judgmental. And she is. But not in a way that looks down on others- she’s judgmental in a way that she judges your behavior against the person she knows you to be- which is better than what you’re displaying. It’s not an “I’m better than you,” so much as it is an “you’re better than this.” And for Arman to throw the motel manager thing back in her face was so wrong, but it is exactly how he and Nadia communicate and talk to each other. Let’s be clear: Arman knows that Thony fells horribly about what happened, that he literally killed for her, and she more than appreciates it- but that shouldn’t mean compromising her morals or who she is. The irony of it all is: if Arman had just opened up and been honest with Thony about what was really going on and what it was doing to him, she would’ve agreed to everything from the beginning. But he’s spent every episode icing her out- even though last episode he was more vulnerable and open, he still didn’t fully let her know what was going on. So, she had no idea of just how truly dangerous Kamdar could be nor how much it all was hurting Arman.
Their reunion
Something that I noticed in this episode is that Arman finally saw Thony again. Like, actually saw her, for the first time since last season. This is, again, why pacing is so important and why they needed more episodes this season- because if you don’t have a steady pace, too many things lose the chance to unfold as naturally. I wish they would focus on those smaller moments more because we need to see more of how tormented Arman has been by all of this, and though I felt for him, I didn’t feel the level of anguish I should have because I’m still trying to figure out how long its been and how we got here.
When Thony came into that room, grabbed his hand and told him that she was going to help him- he truly looked at her for the first time in a long time. And by that I mean, it woke something up inside of him. She could’ve abandoned him for how he spoke to her, the things he said, she could’ve called him the monster he believes himself to be- she could’ve done anything- but instead, she took his hand and let him know that she was with him and wasn’t going anywhere. And that is the biggest difference in Arman’s relationship with Nadia. Thony is capable of forgiveness and moving forward; and even when she has the opportunity to land a final blow (and every right to), she nurtures you instead. That is also why I stand by my repeated statement that, until Arman gets his shit together, he doesn’t deserve her.
I, personally, am glad that there haven’t been any major declarations of love between the two because it wouldn’t make sense and all it would do is taint their relationship into a toxic mess. I don’t want to watch someone tell another that they love them, they want to be with them, and then proceed to fling mud at them- that’s literally what Nadia and Arman’s relationship is. The way that I mentioned I want the writers to do less talking and more showing about Kamdar? That’s what they’re doing with Arman and Thony, and it is going to make the moment when they do finally vocalize their exact feelings to on another that much more powerful. Because they let us watch it happen and evolve.
If you stuck around to read this whole thing, thank you. It was a LONG one. I’ll leave you with this: to me, Arman helping Thony with her helmet and then wrapping Thony’s hands around his waist was so beautiful because he not only gave his consent for her to be that intimate with him in that moment, but it was also him saying “I am choosing to protect you, I want to keep you safe. This is my choice, it always has been. I’m sorry for making you feel like a burden.” It was a return to him actually being present with her. And we saw the fruit of that when they were stopped by Garrett- Arman wasn’t concerned about himself, just Thony. He didn’t try to talk or argue his way out of getting arrested, he only tried to keep her out of trouble. And I am hopeful that we have finally gotten to the place the writers really wanted to focus on this season and that now, the pacing will be much stronger and the show will feel more airtight.
#tcl#the cleaning lady#armony#thony x arman#thony de la rosa#arman morales#fiona de la rosa#nadia morales#robert kamdar#elodie yung#adan canto#naveen andrews
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
the world is burning… and so are we
this may feel very weak and stupid to say at a time like this, when genocide is happening. but i feel like i’m biting my tongue and not saying much? i can’t fully identify the reason why i am holding back. why can’t i fight for freedom? i don’t want to look back and feel guilty because i was silent and complaisant. i can’t sit on my feelings anymore but i also feel that i’m not educated or informed enough to say all the things i want to say. and i think that is what has been holding me back.
what i do know is that there are 3 major genocide’s happening right now. the genocide of Palestinians, at the hands of the American and Israeli governments.as well as the genocides happening in the Congo and Sudan (which I know less about and wish to seek more information about these situations). many governments have anti-trans/ anti-lgbtq laws in place. some areas that don’t have laws that restrict the freedoms of queer and trans people are looking to implement them. in america affirmative action was overturned, i believe ICWA was also overturned this year. and reproductive rights have been violated. also, cop city, a militarized police training facility being built in atlanta to train police all over the world in the best ways to “police” their citizens. i put the word police in parentheses because their main goal is no longer to maintain the law and serve and protect citizens from danger. no, they think they are above the law and they want to control us through fear.
all politicians and their governments are corrupt. one of their main goals is to isolate citizens from each other, drain us of our energy, and make us turn on each other. if we’re lonely and tired and angry at our fellow man, how could we ever fight our oppressors? there is power in numbers, so they have chosen to separate us and create a divide. we should be choosing community, unity, and solidarity. you may be afraid to speak out in support of Palestine because you think you don’t know enough about the situation, or nobody else you know is speaking out, or because you think you’ll get hate for antisemitism. however, if you’re staying silent you’re choosing to stand by the decisions your political leaders are making. if you don’t know about the situation research and find out enough to form a solid stance. if nobody else’s you know is speaking out, why not be the first one? maybe everyone in your community needs that push. and remember being pro-Palestine was never and will never be anti-semitic. this is something that is said to scare people into not speaking out but just because you’re against Apartheid, and wrongful colonial occupation does not mean you hate Jewish people at all, rather it means you’re just against corrupt governments trying to get away with sick and twisted actions in the dark.
as an american i believe the american people need to rally together and put an end to this. how can the us treasurer say there is plenty in the budget for at least 2 wars but the country is trillions of dollars in debt? we can’t keep letting the white supremacist that run our country use our tax paying dollars to fund a genocide that largely nobody is in support of. boycott all companies that in support of Israel not just McDonalds and Starbucks and Disney. if you can try honestly i would recommend just not buying anything that isn’t a necessity at all period. if we stop funneling money into the economy 1) there will be no money to fund Israel’s endeavors, and 2) the economy will eventually collapse. if the economy collapsed a new economic structure would have to be built to replace capitalism. this is hella extreme but i think an eventual radical response that we should get prepared for. the government does not care about you so why should you spend your hard earned barely livable wage dollars on anything at all? aside from just boycotting, i’m still trying to find a solution for taxes? if anyone knows how americans can prevent their taxes going towards this plz share.
overall not sure if i said everything i wanted to say here, but i will definitely be writing more of my thoughts so i can further go into detail. for now i can sat do what you can to help Palestine. contact your representatives, donate, protest, share the posts of the surviving citizens remaining in Gaza as they document these ongoing terrors. keep your eyes on Gaza, stay alert, and stay safe.
(also i would like to state i’m just expressing my thoughts not trying to spread information, ((if anything i’m asking to be informed)), but trying to speak about what’s on my mind and in my heart). (also sorry for spelling and grammar errors, not focused on format focused on message)
#palestine#israel#free palestine#liberation#end occupation#ceasefire#spilled thoughts#capitalism#socialism#change#the world is burning#personal essay#politics#radicalize#radicalization
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Leisurely Locating “L” Words Tag Game
Luckily, this labor of love legitimizes learning liberal levels of lyrical linguistics, leading to ludicrously large labyrinths of limitless language located in literal libraries littered with loads of lush lingo. Ok, I went too far. Writing helps you pick up a lot of good words and create nice things, or something…
My Words: Lost, Line, Less, Learn, and Live
There were an abundance of all of these words. Tbh, I think that makes it harder. Pick one of 9 different sections vs pick one from 238. There may be better selections for each of these words, but honestly, just went with the first one that had enough of an image in a small section. Eh, it is what it is I guess.
New Words for You, @mrsmungus : Meaningful, Music, Mind, Melt, Motivate
Lost
(I gave Hayden my love of alliteration as well. This is the first instance I caught of it actually in writing.)
Reluctantly Glen pulled away from her and took a walk over towards their truck. "Seems, I'm not the only one seeing things in my dreams these days."
As soon as it was said, there was a rumbling off to the side. Cracking. The group watched from a safe distance as the whole retaining wall in front of them collapsed in a landslide. Snow, dirt, rocks, all began toppling down the side of the hill as the road began to crumble and finally gave way, the large chunk of pavement crashing down the drop off into the valley below.
Hayden felt her jaw go slack as she watched what was once a clear path in front of them turn into ruin. A couple more feet, a few seconds of travel, and that would have been them. That was almost them. How was it not them? She looked over at Glen for those answers.
"We can also rule out the pen being a factor. Unless Dinny is keeping some big secrets from us. Gonna say that's probably not the case." The reference to his pen was lost on her, and he seemed to realize it once he said it. "My 'prophetic pot dreams', you called them. The alliteration might not be needed. Just your standard prophetic dreams, it is."
"Standard. Right." She nodded, but they all knew; nothing here was standard.
"You're telling me the kid knew this was about to happen?" Harold. Still the skeptic.
"Knew enough to tell us to stop. Didn't really have much time to discuss anything further, I'm afraid." Glen began to walk towards his truck, while Larry began making a three point turn to go back the way they came. "We’re going to loop back, and try and hit 70 again later. Need to find a place to set up for the night too, this is gonna put us back another day.” As he walked past her, a hand was placed on her shoulder, and he gave a light squeeze. The unspoken words between them were still felt.
‘Stay safe.’
‘I love you.’
‘We’ll be home soon.’
Line
Her speech went into an autopilot setting as her fingers flew across the keys, clattering away on the keyboard. A majority of the screen went to black. Predominantly green text began flying upwards, occasionally switching to yellow and red. Regardless of color, the code itself had familiar notes to her.
“It's just like, think about it. How many languages started from Latin, right? It’s dead now, but it was the basis for so many things. If our code is their latin, then maybe I can piece this together. If/Thens may look a little different, or there may be some new loops to adjust to, but I could probably find a way in. As long as— Oh look! They still make comments! Isn’t that nice…”
The script came to a stop as new lines began to appear at the speed of her typing.
“If I was a villain, I would so be doing the maniacal laughter right now. ‘You fools! Leaving comments behind for the likes of me! Your encryptions mean nothing! Mwahaha’.”
She looked up to see Nick sitting on the desk in front of her, a very amused expression on his face.
“Well, I guess Max’s shitty music will have to make do. I'm assuming this is Max’s." She looked at the smaller screen quickly. "Dangerous. Yeah, has to be Max’s. It does have a certain ‘I’m a badass’ vibe to it, though, I'll give her that. I mean, this is badass, right? Hacking into a global organization to find all their nasty little secrets.”
Her fingers began typing away furiously again, new lines scattering across the screen. There was a pause while she read the screen and her eyes went wide.
Less
"I'm…I’m Hayden. Stu was telling me you used to hypnotize people?"
Formality gave way to familiarity, and he began smiling. "Yeah, got some good laughs at parties, for sure! It's crazy the stuff people come up with when they're in it… chicken dances, head stands, flips..."
The smile she put on felt expected, but it never made it to her eyes. This was seeming less promising. Stan was clearly not at Glen level of observation though, because he kept going without missing a beat.
"The best was the guy I had thinking he was a stripper every time you said the word dance."
"Did you ever use it to help people?"
She blurted it out, not able to keep her distress in any longer. This wasn’t a joke. She wasn't a party game. His brow crinkled as he thought back. "Had one guy that wanted to stop smoking. You mean like that?"
Closer. Her anxiety was going to skyrocket if his only experiences were strippers and chicken dances. "More like amnesia. Pulling repressed stuff?"
"Can't say I've ever tried anything like that. Pretty sure I read something on this before, back when I was learning the trick. Something like memories might not come back reliably if you do, but maybe it could work."
She wasn't sure if she was relieved that it could all be bunk, or terrified because she was going to try it anyways. Both, both it was.
"What would you need to try?"
Learn
Nick began to sign, but Harold waved him to stop.
"You know I don't know what you're saying."
Nick stopped where he was, and just looked at Harold.
“What?”
Nick began to sign again. ‘You know what.’
The pair stood in silence. Still. No facial expression, barely a breath. A staring game between the two. Harold broke first.
‘Ok, fine!’ He signed back.
A knowing smirk found its way onto Nick’s face and Harold had to fight down the irritation that was building up. Of course he learned how to sign. Fran and Nick had a whole language to themselves, and spoke it in front of him. Did they realize how insulting that was? It was like spelling words in front of a toddler to hide a surprise.
Harold didn’t want any more surprises.
‘You're not as invisible as you think you are.’
Live
"Too long, don't read. As long as people aren't on the menu and world domination ain't the goal, live and let live."
An oversimplified addition from Max, but still on point. Quinn nodded to confirm, before continuing on in his thoughts,
"In essence, yes. That was the core message. But after decades, the message itself has mutated, the sentiment behind it. And now… All that's observed now, whether it be willful or not, are results. Eliminating potential threats to humanity. Rayna is running this place with unheard of efficiency. Removing “dangerous creatures” before they ever become a danger, with a complete disregard to whether the creature in question would ever act in that manner. On paper, the statistics, reports, all the numbers look astounding, and it's hard to argue against that. But if they saw... it's not just hunting evil anymore. It's more complicated than that. They're wiping out families. Innocent creatures. Because of a hypothetical potential of danger. This success we're having, well, there's always a sacrifice isn't there.."
The silence among them lingered as the music continued to fill the space. She felt Glen shift his weight next to her, and she looked over. The fire Harold’s comments sparked inside of her had taken over, and she didn’t even think to check in with him yet. Now that she had come back down, let Quinn take the lead again, she found herself anxious for his opinion. And he didn’t disappoint in providing it.
"There usually is. One hard concession, then another, until they're not really all that hard anymore. Ends justify the means, judgements made on face value, and it suddenly becomes about what you are over who you are. Yeah, I think I've heard this one before."
"It's fucking bullshit."
"For once, Max, I'm not going to argue with you. Society… Never ceases to amaze in its destruction, does it?"
#are we getting out of hand? Maybe#do I care? Fuck no 😂#keep it coming!#mouse's tag games & reblogs#riding the train to alliteration station
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
So,
I’d like to talk about Zero. Major Zero. Just as I threatened said, I would. Zero absolutely fascinates me on so many levels.
My headcanon essays aren’t rants. I do want to make that clear. I write them because I adore these characters. The good, the bad, the confusing, and all the messes in between. If nothing else, these can all largely be summed up as: LOOK HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS. LOOK HOW MUCH FUN I’M HAVING.
Anyway.
Given that every MGS character gives me an ungodly amount of brain worms, that’s not hard. It’d be so easy to say he’s ‘a well done villain’ and leave it. But I’m the sort of person who sorta treats MGS characters like this, even the most mindlessly evil ones.
Because to me personally, I see them as complicated in motivation, in personality. They are not good people *save a genuine handful throughout the series*. I don’t believe they were written, nor intended to be, and I genuinely appreciate them in all their grey and black glory. I like that you aren’t hand-fed characters personalities, that they change and alter over time the way people would adapt to their situations, their worlds. And that at the end of the day, their war criminals in a war machine and (save for maybe Huey) willing to admit or at the very least somewhat understand.
(I’d also note that a story protagonist does not have to be a good, nor innocent person, but I already think that MGS handles that perfectly well in general) Regardless, my focus here is still on Major Zero. Who I think managed to end up being one of the most terrifying characters in the series. Which is saying a lot, considering the rooster of people we’re dealing with. Also pretty impressive considering the man is essentially comatose after 1976. Right up until Big Boss pulls his life support in 2014.
But that doesn’t negate the system he created, the projects he invented, and the intense sway he had over both people, and information for decades before that. It’s also worth considering that he was working with people like, Skull Face. Sure, Zero makes some claims about not knowing how off the rails or dangerous Skull Face was, but I’d also like to point out that the Vocal Chord Parasite wasn’t originally Skull Face’s creation.
It was Zero’s. Or, to be more specific, the will of his predecessors.
Essentially, Skull Face ended up taking an already pre-existing entity his superiors had created, and turned it into a beast beyond which they’d comprehended themselves. Skull Face also poisons Zero around this time with the fake pin badge. Something disguised as a gift, as Zero’s paranoia had him in deep hiding himself. (All messages via cut out, after all).
In the MGS Fandom Wiki, Cipher is defined as follows:
Cipher is responsible, in series for the following:
Les Enfants Terribles
Peace Walker
Ground Zeroes (I will note here that this was not Zero himself, but Skull Face after having gone rogue. Any incidence after that had nothing to do with Zero himself, I’ll note them only for the specifics of the organization at large)
The Phantom Pain (Vocal Chord Parasite, Attempted Annihilation/Genocide of Humans via biochemical warfare)
And by the 2000′s, Cipher is largely AI controlled alone.
Zero’s real specialty is in controlling information, I pointed it out here, but I want to go into much more detail in this post. Because while it might not seem like much, there’s a great deal of implication to information control, and it has a very real component in society today. There is no stretch to believe governments can control information, and while MGS is fictional, the things Zero does certainly have some real world basis.
He covers up the Ground Zero’s attack, and freely admits not everyone bought the story. (Sorry for using links here it’s too easy to hit image limit on this website). When speaking in the tapes to Skull Face, he’s fairly candid since, at this point, he trusts Skull Face as his XO and we get some general insight into how he views people and their own beliefs.
There’s a quiet arrogance to this statement I personally can’t fathom, but can imagine someone who truly believes himself in a position where he’s got people all figured out. Seems to believe that the world operates on a hive-mind that he can feed provided he and his network are in charge of that hive mind.
Now, I don’t feel like Cipher’s desire to unite the world is inherently a bad thing. A world where we are all equal, regardless of country, birth, status, race, sexuality. In this Zero is not so different from others. The MSF, Diamond Dogs, FoxHound. All of these entities surpass the ideology of nations being borders, and take people as people.
Where it gets out of hand and out of control (much as Big Boss himself would later in life with the concept of Outer Heaven) is that in Zero’s perfect world, someone is still in charge. People are told what to do, how to think, how to behave and how to operate. So people are united under a single banner, but that banner has people like Zero at the helm, and within that helm, are a bunch of suppressed people without free will.
THAT is where the issue arises. Interestingly enough, I don’t know if I can cast Zero in the light as some power-hungry dictator. What makes Zero so complicated (and by extension so scary) is his desire isn’t driven because he wants people bowing and kowtowing at his feet, but because he seems to honestly, genuinely believe he’s doing what the Boss wanted. Because, as it is with Big Boss, Zero seems to have held some mild obsession with her (and his own obsession with Big Boss), to have her dream carried out. Even though, much like Big Boss, Zero misunderstood it entirely.
It’s also telling that, for as immoral as Ocelot is, and as ruthless, there is one distinction he can make from Zero. Ocelot, fundamentally understands and even seems to value that people are people.
That machines breed nothing but trouble in the long run if they are going to think FOR you. (MGS4 turns a lot of this into a more muddled mess, but that’s a different post and more complicated than I can sum up here, but I still believe Ocelot was intentionally bringing down the system in MGS4, so, anyway).
For all Zero’s talk, his desires, he seems to fail to recognize that humans are going to be humans. Messy, complicated. Confusing. Does Zero over simply humans? Hard to say. But I don’t think he values them very much.
Like Ocelot, however, this is also something Skull Face understands as well.
Skull Face.
Something something “worst person you know made a good point’ meme here.
Because whether Zero likes it or not, people are going to think for themselves. In a larger scale, that is part of what separates humans from animals. We have the brain power, the capacity, to think and behave for ourselves.
Humans do appreciate structure, but they do not appreciate that structure being mitigated by someone who denotes himself as being able to speak for others. Because in the end, what gave Zero that right? It isn’t like the Boss said, “Here, Zero, carry out my legacy.” he apparently came to these conclusions, these decisions, on his own.
There’s something so strange about Zero’s world view. He wants, essentially, to end individualism entirely. Blank faces, blank slates. Utterly meaningless. A gathering of NPC’s. And that will somehow bring the world peace. Again, uniting people is not a bad thing, but people can be united AND have free will. and their own individualism.
I mentioned it in my Les Enfants Terribles post, but again, I’ll expand here. Going on what was said above, Zero seems to have little regard for people overall. But he’s not nearly as docile as he presents himself. He speaks in an even, cordial tone that’s very symbolic of the ‘classic British upper crust’ that became stereotypical of British elites at one time or another, but he makes it very clear that the politeness only goes so far.
He’s incredibly manipulative, to start with. But what makes that fascinating to me is it’s subtly. A lot of what Zero says has a thinly-veiled threat behind it reminding you that for all his posh words and hand-painted tea cups, he’s a combat vet (SAS), an intelligence agent, and intellectually on the same level of manipulation as Ocelot.
See this post for the Ocelot tapes. (I’m already running out of image limits here)
How many people can genuinely claim, within the series, to be able to manipulate, much less threaten, Ocelot?
Kaz doesn’t get off scott-free either, but Zero is far more condescending with Kaz, and less willing to toy.
Not entirely sure how many ways someone could take that, but. Ok.
Except I’m not sure how truthful Zero is being here. as he knows the attack was Skull Face and was, up to this point, working with Skull Face. I COULD argue that he’s keeping Kaz safe from Skull Face, but I’m not sure about that. Mostly because of this conversation from the Skull Face and Zero recording:
I can feel your brimming confidence in Kaz from here, Zero *sarcasm*.
So what is the truth? Honestly..not sure.
Returning to the Kaz and Zero recording:
And Kaz and Ocelot start working together because Zero said so.
At this point, Venom Snake has already been created. A large part of this set up apparently is to get Kaz..to Venom. So not only is Zero manipulating him, but he’s convienently leaving out that the Snake Kaz is going to return to, is going to be another man. The double.
Played like a damned fiddle indeed.
He’s more blunt and talks to Kaz like he’s a whiny child (using his full name, threatening to hang up and then attempting to appeal a bit to his humanity to pacify him). I do regret that again, screen caps are unable to convey tone, but all of these tapes are incredibly well voice acted and you get the message very well.
Anyone can threaten, anyone can make all the statements they please, but Zero is fully willingly, and able, to carry those threats out. Enough so that Ocelot and Kaz are both aware of this, and behave accordingly.
Thinking about that, and how Zero has enough power to keep even Ocelot under thumb (at this point in the mid 1970′s at least) is a very good symbol of how strong, all seeing and all powerful he is. It worries them because it SHOULD worry them. That is the kind of unfathomable control Zero has at this point in time. Even though he knows it’s going to slip away, hence passing control over to Donald Anderson (Sigint). So while Zero himself won’t be in charge, he’s left enough instructions that what he wants to have happen in the world will continue, because that’s the sort of influence he’s got.
And ability.
When Zero was attacked, he was able to escape and take over New York, temporarily.
I think what ends up being further insidious is that Zero’s reach extends far beyond all this. Even after Zero is left virtually comatose from Skull Face’s attack, it hardly matters. Because programs put forth long before any of that happen play out exactly as he planned it. Sigint is able to take over Cipher under the AI’s and eventually the third Les Enfants Terribles child, Solidus Snake, George Sears, is made President of the United due to the will of the Patriots/Cipher.
That same program of course ends up ousting him later on. And responsible for large portions of the MGS2 story. And it’s that same program that eventually becomes the very web-controlled information network that has created the absolutely bleak setting of MGS4.
All because a man with a seemingly unfathomable desire to unify humans under the faceless, the controlled in the belief that he was following the will of a another, and could never accept that he was not only wrong about that will, but that his friend, his buddy, was still a human being. And that he too was a human being.
Obviously, we’ll never get any true insight into how Zero was thinking in regards to all of his motivations. And I do think that his feelings for his friends, and people he did care about *when he could even consider them people in the first place*, was genuine. When he says ‘Wake up soon, old friend” I do think he legitimately does see Snake as a friend. In whatever twisted, bizarre way that may be.
i think he was clever, arrogant, a touch naive and a well done antagonist. I think that the snippets and bits and pieces we get did work well for the purpose of the story, as it would be easy to overuse him and make him cartoonish. So the balance is achieved pretty well. MGS can go over the top sometimes, but in this case, I don’t think they did. I think that there’s much to chew on with Zero, because for all that he is polite, he’s deadly, dangerous, and someone you fervently would never, ever want to cross.
A bit on the nose, but Ocelot sums it all up pretty nicely here, doesn’t he?
#mgs#major zero#nates headcanons#oh look another essay from me#at idk like 11pm or w/e#i largely used MGSV caps for this if not entirely because that's honestly where 90% of the zero info comes from#hes not really mentioned in peace walker#and he's an ally in 3#theres more in mgs4 but tbh it largely restates what mgsv states already#of course 4 came first but ANYWAY#i started to get tired as i did this but I HAD TO FINISH I HAD TO#this is of course another HOT MESS but i LOVE complicated characters SO MUCH#character posts: major zero
16 notes
·
View notes
Note
sorry to keep talking about this lol but I was looking thru some of the profiles of the comments on the Reddit post and 1. many people are saying power imbalances aren’t inherently evil. true I guess but it’s ignorant to act like they aren’t something to take into consideration, especially when even in minor cases the abuse of this power is soooo common. and someone else brought up that they were in a 19yr and 27yr relationship that wasn’t unhealthy (🤢), and that unhealthy power imbalances aren’t due to age but due to a person being abusive….I’m very sure there’ve been people in large gap relationships that haven’t been abusive, but I reallyyy don’t believe that’s the majority. and sorry but when you get so many other comments from women who’ve been in large gap relationships talking about the dangers of it and you just say “well it could be different with them!” sure! but we have a right to worry about the younger person and side eye the older one. and the last comment I got was saying why not talk about something else, why bring it up if I don’t know for sure that it’s toxic..cause I’m totally sure this is just breaking Chris’ millionaire heart that we’re suggesting he might be a creep like the rest of the Hollywood men 🙄
right? i had the exact same thought like maybe theyre not inherently abusive but they are inherently questionable. my thing is why do people get so madddd about it like. if we want to be wary of a pattern of behaviour that has consistently proven toxic in the past let us LOL like you said how many young women come forward years later and talk ab being manipulated. it’s endless. it's not a crime to disagree with the principle of smth based on ur own personal boundaries. also who is riding or dying this hard defending some rich actor to hell and back on reddit over a mere discussion about his public relationship lol weird
14 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
superparanormalstuff
Random Blog
mystical-knight-dragon
author, procrastinator, lover of bread
ilearnedthistoday
Untitled
starlightandust-marejai
sometimes I draw and sometimes I cry
ceelibeans
Celia's Art