#she's supposed to be from Fantasy Egypt

[eliounora]

quick doodle of my oc, haru! I’ve changed her character quite a bit recently

#i transed her gender #my art #she's supposed to be from Fantasy Egypt #and i was looking for ancient egyptian or coptic names when i needed to find a name for her #and some pdf i found listed vocabulary in old egyptian and said that HARU means falcon #and i was like oh cool that's a name #now months and months later i tried to fact-check this. and i did not find that pdf again #but the hieroglyph for horus (also called haru or hor) is indeed a falcon #i kept the name because i associated it with the character so deeply at that point. ✨ETYMOLOGY✨

[leviathanspain]

Hi! I also need to some ideas for a moon knight fic and here are some prompts I came up with.❤️

Reader is a single mom who brings their kid to the museum, Steven has a massive crush on her, he loves talking to your kid and getting to know you, always with this desperate love sick puppy dog look on his face, so you entertain him. Big mistake.

But then he starts forming an unhealthy obsession about her.

He dreams of this fantasy where your his adorable little housewife and he gets to spoil you and your child, and he’ll give you as many more as you want to!

He just needs to get rid of peoples getting in his way, namely your ex… but Marc is here to save you! He loves you guys just as much and won’t mind helping out!

( he could literally just be making up that your single and that your current husband is actually your ex. He could kidnap her or just infiltrate her life or you whatever else)

Good luck!!!!

adore you

warnings: this is a dark!fic so mentions of sex, unhealthy obsession, abuse, housewife!reader

stalker!steven grant x reader, marc spector x reader, jake lockley x reader

synopsis: your five year old son loves the museum and loves egypt, and the man behind the gift shop counter can’t keep his eyes off you.

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“mum!” your son shouted for you, his small hands reaching for the plush at the top shelf. he was on his toes, stretching out for the plush when rough hands grabbed the plush and gave it to him. you looked up to follow the hands and saw the gift shop worker, he looked oddly familiar but you came to the museum enough that you didn’t think much of it.

“teddy!” you grabbed your son by the shoulder and led him to the cash register, you bent down to his level and lightly scolded him, “don’t just walk away, you could get lost or worse!” teddy was too young to understand the concept of worse but his expression of fear was enough to satisfy you.

you grabbed the plush from his hands and gazed at it, “what is this?” it was a grey, fuzzy dog looking cat thing.

“it’s a sphinx.” teddy mumbled, reaching out for the sphinx.

“why is it grey?” you questioned and the man at the register cut in suddenly.

“it’s not supposed to be grey but the manufacturers don’t know egypt the way we do.” he looked at teddy who smiled brightly.

you peeked an eye at them before rummaging in your purse for your wallet. you grabbed the debit card from inside.

“theodore?” the man at the counter asked when he saw the debit card ran.

“im y/n.” you responded and hoped he could put two and two together.

steven couldn’t feel anything other than rage at the revelation. his beloved had a psycho ex! the psycho ex who abused her, used her and left her! he was furious, and when you pulled his card out, he nearly lost it! he was so controlling he wanted to monitor your purchases-

hey buddy, calm down. the voice in his head called out, and steven shoved marc back, leave me alone, you don’t understand..she needs me!

marc sighed in response. marc knew what you had going on. your husband was incredibly wealthy and so you spent your time raising your son, taking him to trips and places, and spending time in the park all day basically. he had observed you when steven had gone out on his stalker rampages. but you were married, and completely devoted to being a mother. you were a nice woman, even when you noticed steven behind your shoulder at the park, you chose to ignore him, ignore his glazed over gaze today at the museum when you were in the shop.

you walked out with teddy, holding his little hand in yours as you brushed off the weird feeling you were beginning to get. you and teddy stood outside the shop while you fished your phone out. steven watched you quietly and took note of how your dress was hugging your curves. he loved when you wore dresses. he imagined that you didn’t wear panties under the dress, waiting for anyone and everyone to fuck you and fill you up with their seed.

steven wanted that. he wanted to fill you up to the brim while you begged for him to give you another baby.

“can i take my break?” steven asked to no one in particular as he walked out of the shop, half dazed as he saw a black car pull up in front of you. steven stifled a scream as he saw you get in with your son.

“no!” he shouted, and watched the car speed off. steven had half a mind to chase after you, afraid of you being hurt. but his manager was already yelling for his return, and he obliged, knowing he could just go visit you from your window.

“..and so he was being friendly with teddy but you know how i feel about strangers talking to my kid. you can’t trust anyone these days..” you muttered to your husband as you sat with him on the bed. theodore, also called teddy, was a kind man whom you had been with for a few years. you loved him, and he loved you.

“i understand. are you sure though? that he isn’t just some nice worker? maybe he gets watched at his job?” your husband offered to help calm your suspicions but you shrugged, “you know how annoyed i got when old ladies would come and try to touch my belly. especially when people my age did it!” you grabbed lotion and warmed it in your hands before setting it on your limbs, “i’m not some carnival attraction for people.”

teddy nodded, “well. stop thinking so much and come to bed.” his tone was warm, and so you joined him, letting your head rest on his chest as he thought.

“what if you just stop going?” he asked, and you shook your head, “he’s your son. he’s stubborn as hell and will put up a fight.” teddy laughed and you joined him despite your anger.

teddy pulled back, “i’m going to get water. do you want some?” you nodded, and felt him leave. you leaned back on the pillows and gazed outside the gigantic windows of your bedroom and you closed your eyes and waited for your husband.

steven, you’re fucking crazy. marc cursed at steven who shrugged off the fact that what he was doing was wrong. i just want her to be safe! i need to know she’s safe from that maniac.

you’re the maniac! steven it’s not just you who’ll go to jail, it’s both of us! he screamed and steven was beginning a response until he saw a man coming up to your nightstand, setting a glass of water and going over to the other side and doing the same. steven huffed a breath of anger as he saw the man lie down next to you, and began to kiss your body.

“get the fuck off of her!” he yelled but he couldn’t hear him, and marc couldn’t hear your warning of steven.

you kissed your husband back, hands lightly grazing the stubble of his beard as he ran a hand down your waist and to your supple thighs. he tugged on your hair as he kissed your neck, fingers making their way into your panties, lightly grazing the fabric before pulling them off lightly. you began to moan as your husband touched you but you jumped when you heard the thumping of the front door. your building was supposed to have a doorman that wouldn’t let people come knocking at your door at 1 am. you got a sudden chill as you grabbed your husbands arm, “don’t go.” you begged.

you husband smiled, thinking that you were just needy, but again the door pulsed with anger of the knock. you sighed and watched your husband leave the bedroom.

you listened carefully to hear the stifle of your husbands words as a body thumped to the ground. your blood went cold as you stood up, body fighting to stay frozen before you tugged on your nightgown and began to run down to your sons bedroom.

the apartment was large so you hoped it would take whoever was doing this, long enough to not find you.

you had barely reached the front of your sons bedroom when you felt a sharp stab in your shoulder. you tumbled down to the floor as your head knocked on the vase and glass table, breaking them both and knocking you out.

you felt a cold hand patting your cheek, blinking, you looked up to find the man from the gift shop. you tried to scream but found a ball gag in your mouth. you tried to get up but found you ankles tied to the bedposts. you panicked and rattled the chains on your ankles and found your hands bound on either side of you.

“hi. im steven.” the man above you smiled down at you and you screamed in response.

what the fuck is wrong with you steven?! marc yelled, let her go! so she can put us away in a psych ward!

steven ignored marc’s voice and grabbed the ball gag and took it down to let you speak.

your terror was enough to render you speechless, “wha-why?”

steven shrugged, “your ex husband- he was attacking you. i needed to save you, my precious girl.” he cooed at the end and that’s when you realized who he was.

“marc?” you whispered as you gazed into the man’s eyes.

steven shook his head, anger crossing his features, “n-no- i just- im steven. my name is steven. marc isn’t here.”

you shook your head, “no. you’re marc spector. we went to highschool together-“ you laughed, “i knew i had a bad memory but-“ you had finished school in the states before you met your husband and moved to london. it’s been a long fifteen or so years since.

no way, marc echoed in his head, y/n! we were science partners in chemistry! marc fought steven and suddenly, the man above you pulled back, and the entire demeanor changed.

“let me go, marc..” you begged, tears on your face. “please- my son-“ you cried, “is this revenge for not going to prom with you?”

marc shook his head, memories flooding back to him, “no- i-“ marc found himself stuttering, words were getting harder to form as he fell back, leaning onto the dresser as a third alter, moved forward, past marc and steven.

he stepped up to your side and smiled down at you, finger trailed on your nightgown, pulling up to reveal your bare cunt, “both of them are too scared to do what i’ve been wanting to do.. ever since you rejected me from prom.” the tone of voice was enough to send you screaming, and you fought as the ball gag was placed back on your mouth.

#marvel imagine #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley smut #steven grant angst #moon knight smut #moon knight oneshot #avengers x fem!reader #marvel x reader #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #steven grant smut #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley

[poptod]

i don’t usually talk about my private life unless it interferes with my writing or maybe inspires it, but i wanted to share something with you all. i talk a lot—because i want you to understand—so i will put this under a read more

well, it’s been a tumultuous two or so years since moving with my parents to this beach town in CA. some very good, some incredibly bad. and… it’s coming to an end. it’s a very complicated story and i suppose i don’t really want to share all the details, but i think i will share the big parts

like most people i have a complicated relationship with my parents. they are very kind but they also have done some irreparable damage to my psyche, like a lot of parents do. and maybe irreparable is the wrong word because i do forgive them, but regardless i will be moving out of this home without their knowledge.

i tried to do it once and i got caught. who i thought was my best friend decided to tell my parents and i got yelled at and berated for weeks, and my dreams crushed. i was going to go to egypt. i was going to go with my partner, my soul partner, who lived in another country. don’t worry, i met her in real life first while i was traveling. but.. i was going to go to egypt! the land of my Deities! my beautiful Gods Nefertem and Nuit, Hapy, Heka, Khonsu, and Amun… all of Them. Their beautiful faces. carved in the stone of Kemet. my parents never would have let me go but i was ready, i was willing, i would give up anything i own to be there in egypt with my Gods and my love. and then my friend, who was living in my room since he didn’t want to live with his parents, told my secret and nearly had my passport taken away permanently. he left my house and i can’t talk to him anymore because i won’t. can’t stand his words or his voice. but i forgive him.. i just don’t want to communicate with him anymore. i wish him the best.

i travelled to my ancestral homeland of korea after the separation and heartbreak. i visited many Buddhist temples and learned and engrained myself more with the act of worship and the Buddhas teachings; i fell in love with worshipping. i fell in love with the temples. and i revisited the ideas i’d learned in the sixth grade—idea of giving things up. of releasing material want, which leads to the cessation of dukkha. the idea is beautiful. and i think it’s accurate. stopping our desires for material things of this world will stop our suffering; suffering emanates from our greed. fear emanates from greed. in the end what matters is our connections to people, and in this case, my connection to my Love and my Deities. in korea, i found the knowledge, independence, and courage that has allowed me to bring to realization what i want not from this world, but from my life.

and now i’m trying again. i’m telling no one of my plan. actually, two people know—one is my closest friend of eight years who lives five hours north of me. another is someone i vetted thoroughly to confirm his ideology and make sure he wouldn’t tell my parents. and actually, he supports me! he almost admires my decision, the courage to get what you want despite the odds. and he is helping me. he’s a blessing from Hathor, an aid of Khonsu to help me travel to the airport to see my Love and my holy land.

there is no greater excitement than this! i will be able to feel the Nile through my feet and hands and hair. and the light of Amun-Re and Khons will shine on my face. and my love will hold my hand. does it seem like a fantasy? well, the world is love, the world is hate… the world is what you make of it. i know people who have easy lives and are incredibly depressed. and there is my Love, who has had an incredibly hard life and will talk much about it, but she is incredibly happy. she is enlightened. i want to be like her—i want to be with her.

do i sound insane? probably. but i’ve learned being crazy is a good thing. especially for writers. i don’t know how many more stories i will write about our beloved Ahkmenrah. i still have the Breeding Kings to finish as well as the Night Grows Dim. then i have a story i want to write about Nabataeans, and i might write a long forgotten story i used to call Hiding in the Light. i hope i will get published some day but it’s not my greatest desire. my greatest desire is to see the world with unending clarity, to know things as they truly are; in other words, to be enlightened. to worship my Deities. this is my path towards that.

to put it in perspective, i have two paths. literally two. i can follow what my parents ask of me; go to college, get a job, work for a long while, and then i can travel when i happen to get free time once a year for one or two weeks at a time. i can settle down in america without my Love; she is already a refugee in israel and can’t move to america. so i would be alone. this path has its good parts. my parents will love me, so will my grandparents. i’ll be well-off with many physical belongings tying me to this realm (which is debatably good thing—bad thing in my eyes), and i will be a normal person. how delightful.

the other path is the one i am choosing. i am going to follow my dreams, which is a terrifying thing to hear a 19 year old say. but i didn’t even think i’d live this long. i’ve healed so much. and this will further my healing. i wonder if it is possible for you to understand… maybe not. it’s difficult to comprehend. but i want you to know. i want you to understand. and it’s not because i want you to know what’s going on (though i do of course), actually it’s selfish, because i want to be understood, very desperately i want to be understood because no one except my friend who is driving me to the airport understands me. and even he is a little on the edge with it despite fully supporting me. this feeling of desire to be understood fades slowly from my life, little by little. i come to realize—or perhaps question—is it worth it? most people are incredibly close minded. most people live their lives blind to happiness and the truth of the world. most people do not even care about themselves. and i do not want to end up like that. that is not the future i’ve worked so hard to heal myself for.

everything will go. and all will change.

someday i will die. someday my love will die. someday all my possessions will be dust. someday this land will erupt in lava or sink into the crevices of earthquakes, or maybe it will slowly fade into the ocean. someday this earth will be unrecognizable. someday, our home will not seem like our home at all, and the only indication that we ever existed will be stones in the shape of our skeletons, and maybe even those will not exist. and someday the earth will be gone. our sun will implode, and the black love of space will enshroud everything. at that point, i really don’t want to be walking around talking about how i went to college. i don’t even want to be talking about how i managed to run away from america and go to egypt.

i want to be learned. i want to see it all in its beauty as the earth dies in its many wondrous colors—i want to smile as the sun evaporates into particles of gold, i want to understand this cycle and it’s end. and the way to get here—to this sense of bliss and enlightenment—is to separate from what the modern world wants me to be.

listen to me very well, because no one ever really does this—you have to live.

please live. this word carries weight like love; which means that not many understand it’s depth. you know it’s definition. but the meaning of it is indescribable and beautiful like a supernova the size of a galaxy.

You have to love. You have to live. Please.

[bijoumikhawal]

Hunting Abbadon

This is a short story from a larger work I'm working on called Sycamores Before the Flood, a historical fantasy set in 4th century Egypt. It may or may not make it into the final work, but I sort of started working on it as a proof of concept, since most of what I have for it is scattered fragments, and I'm in research hell.

In this, the main character, Kalashire, is invited on a hunting trip by another soldier while they're granted leave. What are they hunting? Why, an escaped unicorn, of course!

(But the unicorn is also a metaphor. No points for guessing what its a metaphor for, however).

Warnings for: graphic violence against animals, depictioms of misogyny, harassment, and homophobia.

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It was not the custom of their enemies, but under the yoke of those same enemies, each man in Kime had been made a farmer, unless he was a Hellene or lucky. So the wisdom prevailed that soldiers, like plots of land, should be switched around so as not to deplete them. This was how Kalashire found himself on leave; it was his first, and he would be returning without his father.

At the thought, he bent his head low, staring at the road dust as he walked. He would need to tell his sister and brother himself.

"Are you on leave as well, brother?" Mina asked him, startling him out of his thoughts. He and Nahroou had caught up with him without his notice.

"For now." Kalashire replied, putting on a mask of wry humor. It was not successful; he must have flinched.

Mina laughed. "Ease yourself. I have a proposal that may cool your desire to be back in the fighting."

"What proposal?" Kalashire asked warily.

"A village a day away claims to have spotted 2 unicorns." Nahroou said, some dourness coloring him. "And- something that's more than gossip- it is known that one of the merchant families of Antiöe was trying to import some- and they failed to arrive."

Kalashire stared at him, taking a moment to catch on. "You want to hunt? Have you lost your sense?"

"That's what I asked him." Nahroou squinted at Mina.

Mina was unfazed; when God made him he had not given him a sense of shame. "If you won't hunt with me, at least accept my hospitality. Unlike you, I have a cart and a horse."

This was true: while Mina was not from down the river, his family was more prestigious, and his personal provisions had been such. Their unit had made use of that very cart while on duty, and it seemed they'd make use of it traveling upriver.

Walking would mean by the time Kalashire reached home he'd have to turn around immediately at best, and hiring a mule had been his current plan. Unfortunately for him, mules thought him foul. He'd been mentally steeling himself for being bitten. "Fine. And I might as well accompany you on the hunt and keep you from getting killed.

"Nahroou looked behind him. "Oh, lord save me."

Onhet, also from their unit, was rushing down the road towards him, Tsanna keeping her pace alongside.

They stopped not far away, and Onhet wrapped an arm around her shoulders to support her as she slouched, catching her breath. "Is this a last gathering before heading home?" He asked them.

"Something akin to that. Mina wants to kill a unicorn."

Onhet's face crumpled with disgust. His Prophet had declared even the killing of plants to be sinful; Kalashire doubted he wanted to explain to his Elect that he needed to be cleansed of the sin of going out of his way to hunt a unicorn.

"You can't believe everything you hear. Even if people say there's a unicorn, that doesn't mean it's true."

"What's the harm in seeing if if is?" Mina asked him.

"I suppose there isn't any- if you somehow have no relations that worried about you the past 6 months."

Nahroou glanced at Kalashire, who had his mask firmly in place. Kalashire did not know if it bothered him, truly, but if it did, he did not show it.

Mina laughed. "Well, I certainly don't have a girl to bring back home before I can marry her." He clapped Onhet on the back and winked at Tsanna.

She flushed, corners of her mouth dropping. "I'm his woman, not yours, you dog."

"A dog, am I? Does that make you a hare?"

Onhet knocked Mina's arm off him, also frowning. "You joke too much, Mina. I hope you know how to keep a still mouth during your hunt." He nodded to Kalashire and Nahroou, then the duo took their leave.

Mina stared after them.

Kalashire nudged him. "I thought you wanted to hunt unicorns, not hares. Besides, she doesn't like you and your parents would cast you out if you brought home a follower of Mani."

"Who says I want to bring her home?"

Nahroou frowned and narrowed his eyes, as he often did. "Didn't you say you'd convinced two other fools to come with you?"

"I did, I did. They went on to an inn; it's best that we rest tonight and set off tomorrow. If we start early, we'll be where the report came from by noon."

Kalashire sighed. "Let's go, then."

"Kalashire, Kalashire. You're almost as impatient as that heretic was."

"Much like the heretic, I have family affairs to settle. My brother and sister have bad news to receive."

Mina stumbled for the first time since Kalashire had met him.

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The evening had passed uneventfully. Kalashire had made himself on good terms with the other two men- a Dauid and Harmine, from the same village- and allowed Mina to feel his comment had been smoothed over, but had gracefully turned into bed early so he could get enough rest while accounting for an hour of staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, and lacking any desire to do anything else.

They set out before the sun.

Nahroou and Dauid elected to walk for a stretch, at which point Kalashire and Harmine would get out and walk, allowing them to rest.Mina started chatter early.

"Everyone's fresh, except the smell of dear Holhol."

"You'd think after being the only one taking care of him for 6 months, you wouldn't be able to notice the stink at all anymore." Kalashire remarked.

"If only." Mina chuckled. "I suppose it's the price one must pay for peaceable feet."

"Oh, god." Nahroou said. "He thinks himself a philosopher."

Kalashire laughed. "From the school of dung. Half his students are beetles."

Mina picked up a spare walking stick and began prodding at Kalashire without turning his head. "Better than yours: a school of hot air, since that's all that's in your head."

Kalashire irritably dodged. "You're one to talk."

"I'd prefer air over dung," Harmine remarked, "but together I'd chose to make companions with a scorpion."

That made then both laugh.

"Surely we aren't that bad a pair!"

"I can hardly say, as a new friend." Harmine tilted his head. "You are the better judges, I can only extrapolate from what you say yourselves."

"Quit being a braggart, Min." Dauid said.

"Will you report me to our Abouna, Dauid?"

"What are friends for, if not keeping each other in account?"

"Fine group of comedians we've gathered here." Nahroou shook his head.

"You act as though we have something better to talk about."

Dauid spoke up again. "The unicorns."

That did effectively halt the prior conversation.

"All unicorns are male, you know." Mina said.

"Nonsense. How do they make more of themselves?"

"Perhaps they pop out of the ground, like plants." Kalashire said with no small sarcasm. It covered the racing of his heart, suddenly remembering a sight he'd seen while visiting the Therapeutae village.

"And what plants them?"

"Demons, obviously."

Harmine tapped his fingers on the side of the cart. "Some churches actually consider the unicorns as symbols of Iesous."

"That's perverse." Nahroou said. "A unicorn is more like a Hromanios than anything else. Certainly as brutal, if the stories can be believed."

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Mina and Holhol trotted off, looking for an inn. Mina had long decided to put him up while they were out; it was known unicorns were vicious, and would rip a horse to pieces if provoked.

Of course, the best thing to do was not to provoke a unicorn at all.

The town was larger than the one Kalashire had grown up in, and likely many of the villages around here came to it to buy and sell specialized goods. Narhoou looked to Kalashire as if he wanted to say something, but Harmine was scribbling out a merelles grid on the dirt, and cajoled them to set about finding suitable playing pieces.

The playing order was the same as their riding order- Harmine and Kalashire first. It seemed each of their close friends had determined it was best to put two tiring persons together so they could conserve their strength.

There were other people about; going about their normal lives, running errands, coming home from here, leaving home from there. It was not a distracting mass, not the way a true city could get, but Kalashire's attention could not leave them. To them, they could have looked like normal men, sitting in their traveling clothes just outside the town entrance. But the truth was, age and sex marked them out for why they had been traveling.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't win the game.

Dauid and Nahroou were in the middle of play when Mina returned.

Most of their gear had been left in the cart- they need more information before the hunt could begin, and there was no need to openly carry around things that would make people nervous. Harmine had made that clear, though none felt otherwise. It was more reminder to the air around them, that they were on leave.

"According to the stable boy, someone ten houses that way," Mina gestured, "saw them yesterday."

"Them?"

"It seems there are two."

Dauid's head snapped up as he wiped sweat from his forehead. "Two?"

Mina snorted. "Don't be afraid. There are still five of us. I managed to catch the butcher as he was about his business- we can go to him once we're done without cutting through town and he'll handle cutting the horn, separating the hide, and the rest."

Nahroou looked at Dauid. "You go with him. Make sure he asks the right questions."

Mina huffed, but only turned, expecting Dauid to follow. Harmine's brow furrowed, and he went along as well.

This left just Nahroou and Kalashire. Nahroou didn't turn his attention to Kalashire immediately. He gathered the stones they'd used been using as game pieces up, making a little pile of them.

"If you're burdened, it's better to relieve yourself quickly." Kalashire finally said, uncomfortable with the silence.

"I've known you a long time."

Kalashire inclined his head, still unsure of where this was headed.

"You've never mentioned siblings. Neither did your father."

Kalashire started to speak, but his mouth froze. That couldn't be right. Surely they'd said something once- yes, before now he'd only seen Nahroou when they traveled to buy special things, but surely his brother had come once?

Had things already been bad then?

"You don't have to tell me your family matters. It just made me realize… you've never told me anything about yourself by your own prompting."

Kalashire could feel the rough stitching of where his tunic had needed to be repaired where it pressed tight against his skin, and the cloying heat from wearing his thoracomacus and cloak, but he felt naked.

It was often said of Nahroou- he had a long and exacting memory.

"I've never thought of it." Kalashire said honestly, and immediately realized that was worse. It had taken him no effort to keep his life in shadow from a close friend.

Nahroou, to his credit, took it like a duck took rain. "I know. You meant nothing by it." He opened his mouth once more, but closed it before starting again. "Last chance to back out."

Kalashire smiled, mask re-donned. "And leave it four to two? That'd be cruel."

"It's dangerous."

"We're all used to that by now."

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According to the girl they'd spoken to, she'd been out delivering some sheep a distant neighbor had bought when she saw the two glowering at her a stones throw from the edge of the green along the bank. She'd done them the favor of describing the area, and thought it was about two hours away from her house.

According to Harmine, when Mina had questioned the wisdom of sending a girl on such an errand, she'd kicked him in the leg hard enough that he fell over.

"Damable girl." Was all Mina could say about the matter.

Kalashire and Nahroou had already gone and gathered their gear. There was the real purpose of the "walking sticks"; all of them had several spear tips in their gear. In fact, Dauid only carried speartips and a knife, no sword. The weapons were disassembled temporarily so as not to alarm anyone, but could easily be put back together. Some additional nails and a piece of wood, and a crossbar could be fashioned. It was a similar logic to what they'd heard of boar hunting.

Dauid got the honor of carrying the gear.

"I'd feel better if we were doing this with dogs." Harmine admitted.

"If you were anyone here, you wouldn't risk a good dog on some strangers." Nahroou had the rest of the gear.

"And they'd do all the work." Mina snorted.

"Oh, so that's why you're so eager for this."

"Of course. Why did you agree to come along?"

"To keep you from getting killed." Nahroou said.

"And the parts fetch a good price." Kalashire admitted.

Dauid hummed in agreement, and Harmine shrugged. Mina looked at them and shook his head. "No sense of sport…"

"I'm sure you enjoy drinking poison in your leisure time as well."

"I water my wine plenty. You, however…"

Kalashire kicked him in the leg, making Mina swear. "Nahroou, I think Kalashire wants you to fail in your goals."

"I'm playing. If I wasn't, I'd have knocked you down just like that girl did."

Mina rubbed his leg, now limping. "Knock me down after the hunt."

"Yes, reftosh. Shall I fetch you refreshments afterwards as well?"

"You might as well, it's the friendly thing." Mina promptly dodged as Kalashire swiped at him.

"Stop it, you two." Nahroou scolded. "This is serious business. Besides, for all we know we're walking faster than that girl was- it's better to be quiet and alert so we don't get surprised."

Kalashire thought to himself that the girl had only mentioned them looking at her, so how dangerous a surprise would be was in question, but Nahroou had a point. It wasn't really worth arguing.

Were unicorns intelligent? Would they know their aim by looking at them? Kalashire assumed them to be much like horses or some other four legged beast, but what did he know? All any of them had were stories.

He looked to Mina, casual as ever. If none of them had agreed to come, he would likely have given up.

As if he were of the same mind, Dauid spoke up. "Do we need to do this?"

"Mm?" Kalashire said, quietly encouraging him.

"Money is nice, but I'll live without it. So far, they haven't been causing any trouble- no senseless gorings, or destroying property. I don't need to be praised either, I know my skill and bravery well enough."

"If you wish to leave and wait for us at the inn, you're free to do so." Mina said.

Dauid said nothing more, and neither did Kalashire. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

They'd stopped not long before the spot the sighting was reported at, having indeed made it there sooner than two hours. To no one's surprise, the beasts weren't still there, though signs they had been were.

Nahroou and Mina went forward to scout and track, as they were the most quiet and least nervous, respectively.

Kalashire, Dauid, and Harmine had set about reassembling the spears. The plan was not to immediately engage the animals, but to see where they were and any obstacles, return and discuss any issues. That said, they both brought their swords with them: unlike Kalashire's single edged semi-spatha, they each carried a gladius.

The matter of their armor wasn't much of an issue. They each had donned a leather thoracomaci and pteryges before even entering the town, and some covering to wear on the road over top. All had had bad experiences with Hromanios soldiers in the past, and while the heat was wretched, they'd rather take the heat than walk brazenly as those men had.

Kalashire discarded his casula, finally too sick of the heat to bear it anymore. They were out of the way of most people, and frightening someone by the sight of his armor was the last concern any of them would have if someone wandered into their hunt.

Dauid readily discarded his lotix as well, before going back to hammering a nail through the wooden crossbar on Mina's spear.

"Do you think our reftosh will scold us if he notices we put a nail through these?" Kalashire asked aloud.

"If he does, I'll remind him he didn't pay for them." Dauid picked it up and examined it closely.

"And I won't be joining you in whatever punishment he gives you." Harmine remarked.

"How cruel. And I thought we were almost like brothers to each other."

Harmine elbowed him. Kalashire was sure he'd only imagined Harmine giving him a look. He hadn't given any inclination of his… affliction. There was no reason to give him a look.

Kalashire settled for double checking his work, and triple checking it. There wasn't a flaw to be found; not one that could be fixed, at least.

Mina and Nahroou were back within an hour of them finishing the work.

"Well?" Dauid asked them.

"We saw two of them, like the girl said." Mina said, stripping off his kaihmic. "They didn't notice us. It's a fairly flat area, no trees. A few large rocks. They're fairly docile now, but on alert."

Dauid hummed. "Not that much cover, then."

"No. Some plants, but none higher than the knee. I expect they might move soon." Nahroou agreed. "You and Harmine have throwing spears, yes?"

"Yes, we do."

"You two and I will be up first: we'll wound, and attempt to kill the two of them. If they don't die, it's Mina and Kalashire, since they know how to use thrusting spears."

"Lucky us." Kalashire muttered.

Mina clapped him on the shoulder. "Really, you shouldn't be so gloomy. It's not like you."

Kalashire give him a look through the mask that he hoped conveyed some flippancy, before standing and taking his weapon and cloak in hand. "Let's be off then, unless there's something else we should know."

The walk was tense. Nothing interrupted them. Kalashire strained his ears, trying to ensure they all kept quiet. The sound of insects only added to his anxiety, somehow.

Mina and Nahroou led, and the latter abruptly held up an arm. He indicated they drop lower to the ground.

They did, placing their cloaks on the ground as well and splitting up to take advantage of the two noted rocks.

Kalashire peeked out.

They were great and terrible things. The body was like that of an oryx, though more dense and powerful. They were larger, overall, with long legs, a hide in red and black, with a stripe of white down the spine. And of course, at the top of their heads was a black horn, on either side covered with spines, giving it a serrated shape.

There was still a good distance between them and the beasts. Kalashire looked to Nahroou, raising his eyebrows. Would he be able to hit either of them from here? Kalashire wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to run to meet them without being outstripped himself.

Nahroou was determined, face set. If he was to turn back, he would have done it earlier that day.

The three of them took aim. They were not lucky enough to kill immediately, though the arc of the three spears as they sailed through the air was certainly impressive.

Puzzlingly, neither of the beasts took flight, instead tossing their heads with full indication they were ready for violence. It was a half mercy that one of then was injured in the flank, making running a chore.

Kalashire readied himself to rush out, but froze upon hearing two small sounds.

No, Kalashire had not seen a unicorn before, and yes, he only had stories, but he was a man who had grown up around a great deal of animals, and knew the call of a yearling beast when he heard it.

Mina had heard too, but paid little mind. After a moment of hesitation, Kalashire joined him, heartbeat loud in his ears.

It was too late to change tack now.

Kalashire was too tense to think, only running and keeping his hands steady. The tip went into its shoulder, and at the same time the animal's leg failed it.

As it fell, it knocked into Kalashire, hard. They both went down, and he scrambled for his blade, putting the edge to its flesh as quickly as he could. His other hand blindly sought a grip, in an effort to hold the head still. He caught the ear at the base, and held fast even as the combination of earth and animal knocked the air from his chest.

He and the beast were still for a moment, both weakened.

Kalashire's grip tightened on its ear, some of his panic replaced by a deep, wretched sorrow. They had only been trying to protect the two young ones.

The creatures dark eyes settled on him, wet, ragged breaths ravaged enough to feel on his thighs through the flaps of his armor and his tunic. It knew it was to die, it knew they were all to die, and it hated him for it. It was an animal, he realized, that had spent much of its life in a cage. Unicorns were never captured once fully grown. Death was better.

Kalashire's eyes stayed locked with it as he pressed the sword edge to its throat, and pulled a good, quick cut across it.

As the blood welled forth, he realized he hadn't given much consideration to this part, assuming distance, or that he'd be in more control. A spare spurt of it hit his lip; nothing from his waist down was spared from the gush of red.

He could not help but remember the weight of his father in his arms on that terrible night a few months prior, blood smearing over his clothes then too. Kalashire had the mad thought that if he was going to spend so much time bloody, it might be better to walk around naked.

He didn't know how long he sat there, legs pinned under the mass of the thing. He couldn't stand those eyes, accusing him even in death.

A butterfly alighted on the corpse, seeking out the tacky blood smeared all over it. Kalashire reached to touch it, but it naturally fluttered away.

Finally, Kalashire felt hands grab at him, and it startled him out of the state he'd found himself in. He wiggled out of the grip. "What am I, a child? Push the thing off me if you want to help."

Nahroou appeared at his side, hands up. "Ease yourself. You looked like you were elsewhere."

"Well, I'm not, you heretic." Kalashire snapped, squirming out from under the corpse at last.

Nahroou's eyes narrowed, and he held his hand in front of his face as the extent of the gore smeared over Kalashire was made evident. "Mina went back to town to get the cart for transporting the bodies." He said, voice muffled.

"I'm going to find my cloak." Kalashire muttered.

He shook his head, trying to steady himself. He looked around for Dauid and Harmine, and wished he hadn't. They were busying themselves with the two yearlings- not dead, not yet, but it wasn't a sight Kalashire found pleasant.

His cloak was exactly where he'd dropped it. The others had already been retrieved. He picked it up and stared down at it.It was still hot.

He didn't want to cover up, truthfully. He wanted to be naked, if anything.

It wasn't that he'd never killed before. He was a soldier. He was a farmer's son. He had. This time simply... struck him. That happened sometimes, surely?

He looked to the river, several meters away, shook his head, and began walking back.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Mina, wise for once, had managed to find some ratty lengths of fabric for wrapping the bodies in. None of them were keen to sacrifice their cloaks, and Kalashire imagined their owners hadn't minded temporarily parting with them upon hearing what's blood they'd be stained with. He'd also brought water, rope, and fresh clothes.

As he slumped against the wall of the cart to rest, Kalashire wondered, quite seriously, how more unicorns came to be if it was that they were all male. Did they just appear? Did two older ones appoint themselves as parents? Was it two, or simply collective responsibility?

Some of the rope was for the yearlings. They had no horn, and at first might be mistaken for a more common animal from a far away land. It was quick work to bind them to the cart, so they would walk behind. They would sort out what to do with them later. Kalashire had a suspicion as to what was in Mina's head about the matter, but knew whatever it was, he could not be dissuaded.

Mina took the cloth from the cart, handing it to Nahroou. He approached the body of the one Kalashire had not had to kill with rope he had slung over his shoulder.

Kalashire felt frozen in place as several things happened in rapid succession.

First, the loose soil by its nostrils was stirred- it'd been being stirred the entire time, but the movement was so small and subtle he had not noticed it.

Second, Mina had not noticed it either, and was well within the reach of its horn.

Third, that horn slashed through the air, catching Mina hard on the arm. He was knocked back, blood rushing forth as he swore, hand clapping over the wound.

It's head fell back to the ground, a few heavy ragged breaths still in it, before the earth stilled entirely.

Mina breathed through his teeth. After a moment of Mina steeling himself, Nahroou was at his side, having torn off a strip of fabric. He wrapped it around his arm.

Kalashire started to move towards him, a moment too late, and was waved off. The two of them bound it's legs and began dragging it towards the cart.

Kalashire was useful enough to at least help them lift it up into the bed, and again for the second one. Nahroou set about covering the bodies. Dauid handed him a skin of washing water, and poured some of it over each of his own hands.

Kalashire looked at the puddled water, and wiped at his lip, which still had blood on it. Brow furrowed, he wiped again.Soon, he was madly scrubbing at it; in his reflection, the shape remained.

His blade was stained as well, he realized. He'd thought some dirtier water was simply clinging to it, but a flick confirmed the blade was dry. It wasn't as though blood remained; the grey glint was simply now marked with streaks of orange on its edge.

He turned to his companions, still rubbing at it. They were taking care of the blood as well. None of them bore a stain.

Kalashire knew already that when he got a proper bath tonight, he'd find his legs not simply bruised, but stained as well. Mina's scar would be one he bragged about. Kalashire wasn't sure what others would say looking at him.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Further notes:

This story plays with the older idea of unicorns are horrifying and dangerous. There are plenty of positive associations with unicorns as well in Coptic culture; in my experience they are in fact, more common. For more about monstrous unicorns: https://www.coptic-magic.phil.uni-wuerzburg.de/index.php/2019/04/26/jesus-and-the-unicorn-easter-and-the-harrowing-of-hell-in-coptic-magic/

If you're curious about the deal with Onhet, he's a Manichean, which was/is sort of a Christian sect considered heretical and sort of not, especially later on; early Manicheans often considered themselves Christians, but after a certain point they stopped doing so.

Kalashire's sword has a special significance; it's based on a depiction of The Massacre of the Innocents from Abu Hennis. It's basically a rectangular blade with a right triangle cut out of the tip; similar blades were found at the Ballana graveyard in Nubia.

"Kaihmic" is not an extant Coptic word, it's from the words for sheath and mantle to describe a type of fitted coat of Persian origin found in Coptic graves. The evidence for this is a little later than the setting, but I'm not above a little fudging.

Apologies for any inaccuracies with the details of spear hunting, but in my defense neither I nor any of these characters have gone spear hunting before.

#cipher talk #My writing #original fiction #SBTF

[shadowcetra]

Who is Eden?

This page is under construction, the story needs revamping. Forgive me for such a long wait for the change. I hope to get the backstory and information rewritten soon.

Triggar warning: The  backstory contains parental death.

Name: Eden Inbar

Many of the characters in the Final Fantasy Universe have unique names (such as Yazoo, Rude, and Cloud); I wanted to try to stick to that.  Her father gave her the name Eden, in hopes she would be as beautiful and bountiful in blessings, but he had no intentions in her falling into sin like those within the Garden. Eden is to represent the Garden of Eden in that sense. As the story progresses, Eden gradually becomes corrupted with the jealousy and the frustration in her struggle with her heritage and identity, she betrays the Planet and what she holds dear, thus resulting in her losing that spiritual light.

 Not only she represents the fall of Eden, but her story is to illustrate Judas Iscariot, the disciple who committed betrayal out of greed. Ultimately, her story is to reveal that even the most faithful can fall. However, her story is to also show the radical power of forgiveness, how it can revive the dead spirit.

The last name, Inbar, means “Amber” in Hebrew. The amber eyes are a major characteristic of Eden. They are supposed to be inherited from her Cetran roots. From what I gathered, Ancients are known to have earthy traits; an example being Aerith’s green eyes and brown hair. Eden is given amber eyes not only because it is an earthy color, but it also represents her darker motivations. Amber is the color of sap that bleeds from wounded trees; when Eden betrays the Planet, she hurts all that is connected with it such as the people, animals, plants, and trees.Their blood stains her conscience.

Race: Cetra/Cosmo Canyon Native

Appearance: Eden stands about 5’ 3’’, and has medium tan skin from her mother and father. She is also considered underweight due to her subpar hunting skills. She is not always successful in catching food; and with the gritty, bleak world Final Fantasy VII is set in, many of the population were poor and couldn’t always afford necessities. Eden is one of those who struggle greatly.

She also has various scars from her hunts and battles. Three claw marks are seen on her left collarbone; three huge, jagged scars rip over her left rib cage and reach down her side. She also has scars from a bite wound on her right arm.

I based her appearance loosely on the Egyptian and Middle Eastern backgrounds. She bears the tattoos around her eyes and on her cheeks that are iconic of Egyptian relics, and wears three piercings on both ears (a golden ring, silver stud, and silver ring), the ivory fang gauge is seen only on her left ear. Two thin, silver lip rings are on her bottom lip.

There is also a tattoo on her left wrist, hidden beneath her arm covering. It is a small sun symbol with two eagle feathers. It’s to honor her late mother.

Each of the eight thin braids, each braid held together by a gold band. Her bangs are long, angled, messy, and jagged.

The choker she wears around her neck is hemp braided with a gun-metal, swirled tribal pendant that loosely resembles a beast’s paw. The dark satchel strapped to her hip often carries sleep materia and other small items she can manage to stuff in. She also has hazel eyes, to give an indication of her connection to the Planet. She also wears baggy, acid-stained jeans and furry boots.

From what I gathered from Cetra (Ancients) depicted from the Temple, they resonate with an appearance of those from Egypt and the surrounding area. I am aware that Aerith does not look as exotic (light skin tone, no eye markings) but I wanted to try to reflect what the Cetra ancestors may have looked, or intended to look.

Personality: Eden can be cunning, and she relies on this trait when facing a troubling situation; often choosing to stick to the shadows and tricks rather than facing someone head-on. Eden can’t stand the thought of losing control and is known to fight viciously and dirty when cornered. Preferring to be quiet and simply observe, she struggles with social interactions, especially first time meetings. She is paranoid towards others, thus she doesn’t trust easily. The woman is also victim to envy, as she can become very jealous towards those who are more skilled or more blessed than she is. She broods quietly instead of talking about her problems; and can seem dishonest, selfish, and stubborn.

However, towards those who grow close to her heart, she becomes protective and does her best to be dependable. The Ancient becomes more playful to those she loves and often becomes touchy-feely with them. She is rather insecure, due to her fear of the LifeStream and belief that she is cursed, and often looks towards intimacy as a means to help combat with her insecurities.

Parents:

Her father’s name is Cassiel, which is the name of the archangel of tears and solitude in the Kabbalah. He is an Ancient, and because of his heritage, he questions and fears of what the voices will do to him. Because of his fear, He tries not to get involved with the Planet’s troubles, despite the Planet’s urgings for him to act.

Her mother’s name is Nizhoni, which I found means “Beautiful” in Navajo. She is a Cosmo Canyon native, and a passionate supporter of AVALANCHE and the Planet. She tries to give as much as she can to support their cause.

Past:  A dull thud struck the floor, followed by a tired breath as the disturbed red dust hung around the large, burlap sack. The older man stopped from stocking one of the shelves and turned his head, dark eyes gleaming to see the young woman standing before him. “Nizhoni,” he greeted, taking his small glasses off and wiping the lenses with a worn cloth hanging from his pocket. “It’s good to see you. I hope you’re well.” The woman nodded, “it’s good to see you too. I brought some dried meat and furs for the courier to take to Midgar, hopefully they’ll find some use for them.” The woman was about to reach down for the sack as she continued. “Maybe they can sell the furs for some gil. Cassiel managed to take down some really—“ “Nizhoni,” the man interjected, stepping towards her and taking a gentle hold on her should to stop her from leaning over. “You know you shouldn’t be travelling so far and wearing yourself out like this. Not in your condition.”

        Nizhoni let out a sigh, placing her hand on her full abdomen. “Cassiel already gets onto me about this. I’m a grown woman,” she replied, trying to not let her annoyance show. “I’m fine, the baby’s fine.” The shopkeeper gave an apologetic smile. “I understand, but you look like you hadn’t slept in a while.” His smile faded slightly as he caught sight of the dark circles under her eyes. “These trips are hard on you as it is, and with the baby on the way…” Nizhoni shook her dark messy bangs from her face; an intense light gleamed in her eyes. “This is something I want to do, feel called to do. AVALANCHE is struggling as it is, the least I can do is offer supplies. Besides, this may be my last trip, until the baby is born.”

     The man nodded, bending down to pull the bag up. “I understand,” he repeated; Nizhoni was a headstrong woman, and from he learned in times before, there was no winning an argument with her. “I will make sure these will get to them.” He shuffled towards the counter, pausing to turn back towards her. “Please Nizhoni, just…just take care of yourself, all right?” She gave a slight nod, “I will. I haven’t died yet, have I?” The woman gave him a forced smile before turning towards the door. “Thank you, I really hope that will help them.” With that, she stepped out into the sun-soaked village.

       For another hour, she rode across the crimson earth, dark eyes focused on the familiar path before her. The chocobo that carried her over the sloping rock, her hands tugged at the reins to halt the bird. The chocobo let out a complaint, shaking its pale yellow head.   Her eyes fell on the small adobe house nestled behind the ridge. She sighed, thankful to finally be home. She pulled on the reins slightly once more, signaling for the bird to step down the rocky path towards the house. As she approached the house, a young man stepped out. His large, calloused hand slipped underneath his long chestnut brown hair, rubbing the back of his neck. His honey-hued eyes glanced up to see the smoky black-haired woman riding towards him. He sighed, a weary worrisome look upon his face. He should have known she would go off, he had known since he first opened his eyes to see her side of the bed empty.

      Nizhoni smiled towards him, but it soon faded as she looked into his face. She turned the chocobo towards the hitching post beside the front window, slipping off the bird. “Was wondering why the bed was so cold.” The male Cetra started, stepping closer. “Oh, you just got up?” Nizhoni teased back, tying the lead on the hitch post onto the chocobo’s halter, letting it eat the freshly picked vegetables from its trough.

        “Didn’t get to come back until really late at night, tracking griffins is near to impossible.” He reached over to slip off the bags off the chocobo’s back. “Which brings me to the question…”  Nizhoni sighed, here it comes… “Why were you running around in the canyon so early in the morning? You know how dangerous it is before sunrise.”  The woman looked towards him, putting her hands on her hips. “You don’t think I can take care of myself,” she asked, already feeling weary with her husband worrying over her. “Of course I do,” Cassiel smiled weakly. “It’s just with a baby on the way, I don’t want you to put yourself under so much stress.” He closed his eyes for a moment, almost afraid to know the answer to his next question. “You’ve gone back to give supplies to AVALANCHE again, haven’t you?”

       Nizhoni’s eyes never left his face. “And what if I have?”  A heavy breath escaped from Cassiel’s broad chest, his hand rubbing his face. “Nizhoni, you know the trip over puts a lot of stress on you. The doctor warned you about this. Besides,” he opened his eyes, but kept his focus on the earth. “AVALANCHE is not our concern.” The woman narrowed her eyes to hear such words. “Not a concern? Cassiel, it has everything to do with us! With the Planet! They’re our only hope of saving it from ShinRa’s destruction and—“ “It’s not our fight,” Cassiel spoke, his tone cold. She stared at him, her hands clenched into fists. “Listen to yourself,” she snapped, “If anyone’s, it’s your fight Cassiel! You hear them, those voices! You keep saying they cry out to you. The Planet needs you to—“

       “Enough,” the Ancient roared, his eyes glaring at his wife. She didn’t take a step back, her eyes remained locked defiantly on his. Cassiel hung his head, turning from her to look up at the horizon. “Those voices have also been the ones that killed my people. I can’t trust them.” His eyes grew vacant, “you know I can’t.” “You don’t know that,” Nizhoni urged. “If you just have faith and listen.”  “No,” Cassiel grunted, “I won’t stand here and listen to my loved one speak for those demons.” The Ancient turned his head back towards Nizhoni who bore a glimmer of sorrow in her eyes. “Come on, you need to kick back and rest,” he said, turning back towards the house. Nizhoni watched as he stepped into the house, before looking towards the painted canyon. “Gaia, help us.” The words slipped beneath her breath as she pressed her hand onto her stomach. She stared for a moment longer before following after Cassiel. Rest sounded wonderful to her at that point.

        The several months passed like grains of sand; on a cool, still night, the young couple rushed into Cosmo Canyon’s Inn. The tense air broke with the quaking sobs and pained cries of the woman as she writhed in her bed, her husband and a midwife at her side. Cassiel’s calloused fingers gently caressed the stray strands of her hair that stuck upon her sweat drenched face. Nizhoni let out another cry, tears squeezing free from her tightly shut eyes. “Just relax,” the male Ancient murmured, pressing his head against hers, mind frantically searching for a better way to console her as her quivering hand tightly gripped his. “You’re doing well, Mrs. Inbar,” encouraged the midwife as she made preparations for the birth.  “I just need you to keep taking deep breaths and push for me.” The struggle felt like ages for the three in the room; finally, Nizhoni’s cries suddenly fell into a ragged breath, and the feeble cries rose. Cassiel’s lifted his head slowly, eyes gleaming bright with tears. Never did he believe such a thing could ever happen to them… “It’s a girl!” The midwife announced, excitement brimming in her voice as she took the baby into clean thick cloths. “A girl…” the man repeated, tears streaming down his weary face. “A beautiful girl.”

        He turned his eyes towards Nizhoni, who lay still on the bed, eyes closed. “Did you hear that, love? We brought new life to this world. A girl.” He gently shook her, but the exhausted woman never opened her eyes. “Nizhoni, did you hear me? Our new daughter, Eden, open your eyes and see her.” His eyes widened slightly, worry soon began to thread into his confusion. “Nizhoni?” Glowing orbs formed over her body, sending him into a wild panic. “No! Nizhoni, no! Darling, please!” He shot to his feet, gripping onto her. The midwife held the baby in her arms, horror and tears apparent on her visage. “Oh Gaia…” She turned and threw the door open, crying in vain for help. “No, Nizhoni. Open your eyes… Open your eyes!” His voice rang out in desperation, his large frame trembling like a child. “You can’t let them take you! Nizhoni!” No matter how much he roared, the ghostly orbs continued to float away from the woman. He frantically tried to hold onto her body but within seconds, his panicked hands only gripped onto the sheets. He stared down at the empty bed, and then slowly sank to his knees. He buried his face into the side of the bed, the sheets twisted into his grip as his tears of joy became sobs of heartbreak.

       Two days went by after her passing, the Ancient stood by the window, his hazel eyes glazed as he stared out into the village. The midwife sat in the chair still at the bedside, examining the tiny infant in the bundled carrier “She seems to be getting stronger.” She commented, cradling the drowsy child. “Why did I let her keep giving supplies to this damned place? I should have known this would do something to her.” The older woman looked up as Cassiel’s voice growled, unable to catch all he said. “What?” The man narrowed his eyes, glaring towards the blazing sky. “Taking these trips to help those idiots fighting in Midgar, they wore her down, killed her!” The midwife looked up at him, before gently placing the baby back into the woven, basket-like cradle. “You don’t know that, Mr. Inbar,” she tried to gently reassure him. “These tragedies can happen without cause. I understand you’re in pain, but you have a young one to think about.” He looked back at the corner of his eye, allowing the silence sink in between them. “A young one…” He turned around; his eyes fell upon his sleeping child. “If she were to stay here, she’ll follow her mother’s dangerous path. She’s cursed already, with these damned voices.”

       The old woman stared at him, concern bright in her grayed eyes. “What do you mean?” He glanced towards her, but only for a moment, his wounded heart messily gathering his decision. “No, I won’t let her. Those demons killed my ancestors, took my wife away, they won’t have my child!” The midwife stumbled before him, placing herself between him and Eden. “I’m sorry, Mr. Inbar, but I can’t allow you to take her in the state you’re—“ The Ancient shoved her aside, causing the woman to stagger back towards the bed. Cassiel stepped towards the baby, gently sliding the carrier over him so the baby rested snug against his chest. He carefully supported her head and hurried off from the room. “Stop!” The midwife cried out, but he continued on, determined to save his daughter from the voices of the LifeStream and their manipulations. Surprised squawks rang out from the nearby stable before a chocobo burst from its stall, carrying the wayward Ancient and his child into the wilds.

-To be Continued-

#museinfo

[yamayuandadu]

Do you know of any pop culture stuff that has an at least semi-accurate portrayal of Mesopotamian history?

Well, not quite popculture, I suppose, but there actually is a fair share of genuinely great Gilgamesh-based art, two examples I personally like are M. Żuławski's (left; you can find an exhibition catalogue here) and L. Zeman's (right; you can find more of these illustrations here, I believe they come from an adaptation aimed at children?). There are actually many others, these are just the two sets of illustrations I remember the best rn. I also think that trailer for an animated Gilgamesh movie from a few years ago looked fine, I really like the Siduri design apparently made for it too (she's not in the trailer though, I believe) - I think this is the first time I see a work of media acknowledge she's actually meant to be a goddess and not a random mortal woman like many people seem to assume, lol.

There is also Enrique Alcatena's comic Ziggurat which looks breathtaking but I was not able to read it (yet). It's obviously using art from more than one period as inspiration (also, Elamite and even Oxus Civilization art shows up as obvious inspiration for a few monster designs), but I enjoy that, and arguably given how "antiquarianism" and purposely vintage-styled art were both in the vogue in ancient Mesopotamia it adds to the authenticity in a way.

What surprises me is that, mythological fantasy aside, there seem to be no historical novel set in like, the Ur III period. Most of what I can think of is Bible-based fiction, in which Mesopotamians are obviously one-dimensional villains (just like Egyptians tend to be in this genre, lol) and the familiarity of the authors with history is... more than limited. I think I've seen more detective novels set in Tang period China than I've seen novels set in ancient Mesopotamia, and considering how I actually work with books that's... probably saying something. In terms of games it's... not much better. Megaten has a few genuinely great designs - Mushussu, Apsu, Tiamat, Nergal, both Anzus, I actually even sort of like Pabilsag as a scorpion man design; the Civilization series has a cool Gilgamesh from what I've seen (should've gone with Shulgi though smh... getting 0 respect due to being overshadowed by Sargon and Hammurabi) but I genuinely can't think of many more examples. Straying more from popculture, but I've seen some old Iraqi postage stamps (I think like... 1960s?) with art related to the country's antiquity, I can't find them rn but they were very pretty. Commercial art is popculture too, right? As a side note, if anyone from the Iraqi Ministry of Culture, Tourism and Antiquities is reading this, please consider an app with cutesy cartoony versions of famous artifacts like the haniwa one the Gunma prefecture board of tourism made a few years ago, please. I would play it 100% ALSO does graffiti count as popculture? Because I’ve seen a photo of an Inanna mural which is probably one of my favorite Inannas overall a few months ago (source; the link is not nsfw but iirc some of the other photos on this account are) Also, this is not strictly Mesopotamian, but one episode of the French cartoon Papyrus featured traveling priests from Ebla and as far as I can tell their portrayal did match what was known about the city in the 1990s: NI-da-KUL is not really read as "Nidakul" today, but usually as "Hadabal," but the moon god theory is still valid (his cult center was later "repurposed" for Yarikh whose lunar credentials are not to be doubted), and they even managed to build the episode around the worship of this god involving a regular pilgrimage, though obviously its course shown (Ebla->Ugarit->Byblos->Tyre->Ashkelon->Egypt) is entirely fictional (I don't think any kid would be interested in seeing a cartoon about an old dude traveling through Bronze Age countryside though so it's fine).

#mesopotamian miscellanea

[amidalashandmaidens]

I'm hoping this doesn't clog up and tags and stays away from x r£aders cause,, it isn't, anyways onto the MAIN thing: jot + eileen in 1991-2.

So, Eileen getting pregnant wasn't really the plan, they're both barely into their 20s, in school, still coping w/the aftermath of Egypt, etc.

But hey, Jolyne's born in 1992, + story happening so it goes.

I think both of their families are under the impression that there Has to be a wedding b/c they're having a kid together, and what's stopping them? They both love each other and have known each other for years.

The only thing Is... Well three things.

Eileen would rather be married after having the baby because she thinks it'd be cute to have the kid participate.

The timeline wouldn't be rushed on wedding prep.

And...she has issues.

Expanding on this:

Eileen's parents were never married, it was dating and then 'uh oh'. According to Eileen's mom, they did try to make it work.

Nobuko and Simon lived in Bordeaux up to when Eileen was born, then they moved to Japan so Nobuko would be closer to her family. She never really planned on living in France, it was supposed to be a vacation. During Eileen's first year they tried to make it work, but the kind of work raising a baby and trying to maintain a still relatively new relationship tested her parents. They resented each other, Simon wasn't ready to be a father and wasn't willing to put in the effort to try, there were a lot of arguments. Eventually, they made an arrangement and Simon returned to France. He would send gifts and letters intermittently, so he could be remotely involved in Eileen's life (cause he didn't hate his daughter). Nobuko thought he was a coward for this but it would've only been worse if he stayed.

Eileen wouldn't really know about the messy details of her parents' arrangement until she blew up at her mother about it before SDC. To Eileen, Simon was the cool dad who just couldn't be there and her mother was just bitter and selfish, and Nobuko would rather have Eileen have that opinion than thinking her father didn't really care all that much. That he was immature and couldn't commit (not the entire reason he left).

Up to this point Eileen would dream about living with her mother and father in France, where her mom wouldn't have to work so hard all the time, and Eileen wouldn't spend most of her time at home alone. Having that fantasy shattered, that her father had expressed to her mother that he didn't really want to commit to getting to know his daughter emotionally. Life would've likely been worse, the hypothetical but likely arguments (loud voices, throwing things), that she would have to play the mediator between them, etc. Really hurt.

So here's Eileen, 21, younger than her parents were when they happened to each other... She's scared.

✅It's not because she thinks Jotaro is at all like her father (I think I'll do a separate post for Joot's rxn).

✅They've known each other a total of 3 years as opposed to the months her parents knew each other.

❌ What if rushing into a marriage + having a baby somehow undoes this good?

She worries about resentment, about Jotaro finding some hypothetical flaw of hers that drives him away...so wouldn't it be better to take marriage out of the equation for now?

It sounds cold, that it would be easier to deal with the aftermath of a break up than a divorce. But it can be reduced to that logic.

Ultimately, Eileen and Jotaro end up getting married in 1996, but I think I'll have to get into the beef of what gets them to that point at.....not 3:33?

Wish minute fellas!

#jojo oc x canon #my jojosona #my jojo oc #my jjbasona #my jjba oc #eileen barreau #eileen kujo #? #jotaro kujo #my lore #ash thoughts #jotileen

[kuithesun]

[6/30, 12:43 PM] Kui.Sun🌞: I used to read Asterix and Obelix, with such joy, and bliss... Not realizing how this "fictitious" tale, was tied to my own, collective destiny...

Now I recently watch "Queen Cleopatra" on the Matrix that is Netflix, and I have resisted Cleopatra for my whole life, the MOST CELEBRATED PHARAOH, by the melanatedly-challenged; I regarded her with suspicion... I thought if she could be favoured among the colonizer, then she must'nt be an ally to the AfroUtopian Cause...

While this can easily be the assumption, it was definitely not due to any "fault" of Cleopatra... She was simply a "victim" of her own ambition, and the Royal Craving to evolve and expand one's borders...

She fell in love with the Idea of a Collaboration with Rome, even before she fell in love with Caesar, it was this idea, that brought her to be before this Roman Foreigner, on Kemetic Soils, it was that idea of trance.send.dance beyond what her for.bearers had achieved,.a need to re:new Kemetic Relevance in an ever-so-quickly changing political scape... The Introduction of the Democracy; a School of Thought, from the Roman Courts, and Cleopatra from a deeply Monarchial State wished to solidify her Land, and Crown, as the Wave of Change Sweeps by....

[6/30, 12:51 PM] Kui.Sun🌞: Now,.somehow back to Asterix and Obelix; who's Story was NOT actually fictitious, but about Indeginous Balkan States. Who not only had a Natural Physical Strength, but they had also master'd the Art of Magic; so much so that they were able to focus this into the Art of War.

This Indigenous Balkans, Vikings, Valhallas; (many names they go by), where the Main Focus of Roman Conquest; there was a few squabbles in the Roman Court, which lead Caesar's Opponent to flee to Kemet, and "force" Ceasar to reach Egypt too...

His plan was to take him back home, he stands trial, and is Exiled.

But, Cleopatra happened.

Having been ousted from her throne, her self, by her siblings, Cleopatra saw Ceasar's arrive in Egypt as an opportunity to build an alliance SO STRONG that here Queen.Ship, the Power of Kemet, will never be question'd again....

[6/30, 12:54 PM] Kui.Sun🌞: But, Ceasar dies.

In the Roman Court...

Where he has been ordained dictator, for life...

Some people fear his "supposed" thirst for Power, and his growing connection to the Kemetic Queen; who stood for an old, and foreign way of LeaderShip, which stood as a threat to Young, Patriarchal Rome.

[6/30, 1:11 PM] Kui.Sun🌞: Here is where Cleopatra's Idea for a Roman Alliance should have died too.... More than the Love of Ceasar, was the Fantasy of this Collaborative Governance ....

So, the Alliance grows into a Political Union with Marc.Antony, hardly the scholar or critical thinker that Ceasar was; things DO NOT go as planned...

When I speak to Cleo, today, my down.loads are all.ways that at this point, we as the Continent of Alkabolone, Ancient Africa, should have come together, the All.ready existing SuperPowers of Timbaktu, Mali, Kush, and The Great Zimbabwe... This is where Cleopatra "should" have turn her focus to...

Cause the perpetual poking of the Roman Bear, brought them to our shores, and with the Kemetic Borders compromised defending Roman Territories, the Pillaged, and Conquered the WHOLE CONTINENT, TILL TODAY.....

Cleopatra is a Key Figure, not only because she was the Last Pharaoh, but because she is the 1st of the dominoes to Fall in the Great Colonization of "Africa"....

She all.most called them here...

In a time when all they wanted was Asterix and Obelix to surrender....

They knew NOT the true wealth and abundance of Alkabolone; and if they did it was not of political interest to them...

Only Cleopatra fell,

So did Kemet.

Kemet being our 1st line of defense,

We were left exposed to a plague that still ravages our Lands,

To this day!

[2000 years later, Pharoah Cleopatra knows better!!!]

[Also of note; Cleopatra is not "famous" for being a "Female Pharaoh"... The role of Pharoah is a Dual Role, one who's roots are born I the Sacred Union of Osiris, and Isis, the founding-father-and-mother of Kemet. For they knew that to lead a Nation into GreatNess you need Divine Masculine Knowledge, and Divine Feminine Trance.formation, to create a Celestial Wisdom, that can stretch across time]...

[6/30, 1:14 PM] Kui.Sun🌞: Seen "Queen Cleopatra" on Netflix yet?

https://www.netflix.com/us/title/81230204?s=a&trkid=13747225&t=more&vlang=en&clip=81636983

[infinite-xerath]

If the Darkin retcon was meant to show the dangers of the void they massively bucked it with Kai’sa who is supposed to be a survivor of a void tunnel for years yet looks and acts like a hot 20 something.

id actually like them to be spirits from deep deep in the sprirt world that they seem to be aliens. look what they could do to Skarner making him a bunch of ancient Shumiran warrior souls in a construct. instead of a brakern because we need another interesting species folded into the lore of Meta Ultra Chicken man and the story of Not! Egypt.

the game TTRPG Changling!: the Dreaming has a species called the Adhine or Darkin. a race of ancient fae who sided with the Fomarians in a ancient war and live in the far corners of the dreaming. which is like a spirit dream realm. if the darkin where faelike being like Yordles it would be so cool

Don't really know much about TTRPG's, but I can tell you that demons are already creatures native to the spirit world in the context of League, hence why I think the Darkin would, again, just be better off as demons. If they really wanted to tie it into the Ascended story arc, what could have been cool is if some of the Ascended, in their desperation to get an upper hand on the Void, started summoning these demonic weapons to bolster their own power.

On the matter of Kai'Sa, though, I actually really like her story and character; it's just her design that falls flat. However that topic has been discussed to hell and back and I don't see any point in beating a dead horse. She's too hot/sexy for what she's supposed to be, and we can leave it at that.

As for Skarner and the Brackern... I have a lot of mixed feelings about them, honestly. I don't think Riot has ever really known what they hell they were doing with the brackern or where they wanted that storyline to go, and tbh I have issues with the current lore of them being living crystals are perfectly in tune with the earth because it just comes off as another cliche "humans bad" situation. Like yet another "look at this perfect fantasy race that's peaceful and prosperous and perfectly in tune with nature until people come along." The brackern are this race of perfect enlightened living crystals that humans are using as a power source mostly because they just don't know any better.

I'm not saying I'm fully on-board with the Brackern possibly being turned into Shuriman weapons, but I don't completely vibe with their current lore state either.))

#submission #Outofpower

[mousathe14]

So, my fantasy-to-real-life demographic study of the champions of League of Legends has hit a lot of snags and frankly the snags are more interesting than me trying to explain everything properly in one big post so we’re just going to do some breakdowns by population groups in no particular order

Let’s talk about Shurima first because that’s where I was catching on the most snags at first.

First thing you gotta know is that Shurima is basically LoL’s Fantasy Middle East, but really it’s mostly Fantasy Ancient Egypt.

If there weren’t so many caveats the number of their champions could have rivaled the number of champions that are Ionian(Fantasy Asia).

So the first snag being that a lot of Shuriman Champions have acquired a case of no longer being visibly human.

For example, there are champions who are ascended/nearly ascended which mean they got empowered by gods. Thus guys like Nasus, Renekton, Azir, and Xerath are technically Shuriman but they look like Anubis, Sobek, Horus, and a pillar of energy trapped in a broken coffin respectively.

Then there are the Darkin who are ascended that rebelled against the world due to their trauma and were sealed into their weapons in order to be stopped (Yes I know, it’s a lot to take in). Which means that Varus, Aatrox, and Rhaast are technically Shuriman but they basically look like mutated demons and are dependent on their wielder. Aatrox doesn’t have a consistent body because he burns through them, Varus is made out of two Ionians but is mostly the body of one of them, and Rhaast is wielded by white Sasuke Kayn and Kayn is basically considered the main champion.

I’m sorry, that’s a lot. Darkin are now internally consistent but a mess to explain in the context of trying to explain demographics

The point is that these are 7 Shurimans that count if this was a census, but in terms of representing of Arab people as I try to do this fantasy-to-reality demographic mapping, they can’t.

Then there’s Shuriman folks like Kassadin, Malzahar, and Kai’Sa who are touched by The Void, so they’re a little mutated by an eldritch annihilating force.

Malzahar still retains human skin, other than his face, and we can see in his other cosmetic forms that he’s definitely not white. Kassadin is covered in a bunch of weird armor, and is purple. But there is one “pre-void” cosmetic he has that sort of makes it clear he is Shuriman.

And then there’s Kai’Sa, who is supposed to be Kassadin’s long lost daughter but frankly she looks like Scarlett Johansson was chosen over a person of color to play the role of Kai’Sa. But that’s not Kai’sa’s fault, that’s Riot’s fault for not delivering on the lore concept they wrote.

And no one knows what’s going on with Amumu because he’s a freaking mummy with minimal lore. He used to be a yordle but the lore retcon happened so now he’s a human? But he doesn’t have the proportions of a human child in the art style of League? Who knows.

the point is that when you take only the closest to human as possible into account that leaves Akshan, Taliyah, Malzahar, Kassadin, Kai’sa, Samira, and Sivir.

Which is... Yeah. I’ll admit, this was much less than I was expecting. Because, like, there are a ton of champions from or related to Shurima. But when you start looking at the actual visible humans involved it’s uh... Yeah.

I think I’m gonna look at Ionia next. It’ll allow me to talk about the snags I caught looking at the furries.

#League of Legends #Demographics #Shurima #video games #riot games #analysis #commentary #diversity #Darkin #Runeterra #Akshan #Taliyah #Malzahar #Kassadin #Samira #Sivir #Kai'Sa #Amumu #Nasus #Renekton #Varus #Aatrox #Rhaast #Azir #Xerath

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

After fifteen years, One Night With the King is a Dumpster fire of a movie that I was OBSESSED WITH when I was like 11 or 12 (I was obsessed with all things Queen Esther as a kid, because it was my sister's name--I took out my church library's copy of the Hannah☆Barbara cartoon so frequently I practically had partial fucking ownership of it and when my church cleaned out all of the VHS tapes I took it home to keep even though I didn't have a VHS player anymore).

It's a bad movie. It's not good. The dialogue is tragic, the costumes are bonkers, and Tiffany Dupont is... wow she's bad.

But

BUT

BUT

I watched it again for one reason

And it's only a so-so excuse because Hellboy: The Golden Army exists and if I want a fix why wouldn't I just watch that?

It was all for Luke Goss, okay?

So I re-watched it, beer in hand, and bring to you a live blog of a terrible movie that's still the only "Faith-based" LIVE-ACTION film that remotely comes close to being what one might consider "well-produced". (I had originally not stipulated live-action, such would have lumped Prince of Egypt in with the rest and that... that's almost Sacrilege.)

Buckle-in.

****

This took 3 reblogs to finish so for my full 3 part liveblog, click here

- This is produced by FoxFaith, which I'm guessing is why it has, like, production values.

- We start with narration by Gimli (John Rhys Davies plays Mordecai and it's pretty great).

- I'll give it this the music is pretty stirring.

- Tiffany Dupont, aside from being a pretty bad actress, is not pretty enough in my estimation to be Esther, because, like, Esther was chosen for her beauty (and I know they try to make it more romantic here by having him fall in lurv with her, but even so) she should be much prettier than that, call me shallow.

- Flashback 500 years to Saul's disobedient ass not going full genocide on the Amalakites like he was supposed to.

- Enter a very angry Peter "The Prohpet Samuel" O'Toole. I feel SO BAD for all the secular audiences who rented this from Blockbuster because they saw Peter O'Toole was in it, because he's only here for like one scene in this pro-logue flashback to give you background on why Haman is such a bitch; and they had the nerve to put him in the top billed cast to lure people in. His shoulder pads just kill me. WTF.

Did I mention this script is tragic? It can't decide whether it's Shakespeare or the Bible and it's clearly trying SO HARD to be both.

- Fleshing out the characters part one: Make Hadassah wanna get out of dodge! She wants to go to Jerusalem babayyy!

- Add one sassy housekeeper, for comic relief.

- Add cute boy-next-door/childhood best friend (the housekeeper's son) who likes Hadassah and wants to run away with her to Jerusalem babayyy!. He's called Jesse. It doesn't go so good for him.

- Tiffany dupont's got a very cozy mid-atlantic accent. I didn't think that was possible.

- Love how Hadassah's like "ooh look fancy rich person!" and her friends are all like "oh hadassah, always dreaming", implying that she's got these Anne Shirley style fantasies of being a princess, but then she's terrified of being rounded up with the opportunity of being queen. inconsistent.

- Ominous riders in black. Very unsubtle and swastika imagery associated with Haman. Not gonna say anything. I look askance at the implications there, though, given that this movie was shot entirely in India.

- So Hadassah sees the evil Agagite swastika. She clearly recognizes it. make note of this for later.

- Ominous night meeting between Haman and. . . Okay, Denethor is also here. He plays a bad guy. Of Course.

- I am so done with Haman's fucking "I'm so evil" bat-man voice.

- Haman just dumps out the money that Denethor just gave him for being evil-schemey behind the king's back. I guess because they make Haman's hatred of the Jews for revenge reasons his primary motivating characteristic, while greed is totally secondary. They really try to make him a ScaryEvilVillain (TM) instead of the snivelling asswipe he is in the Bible. More on that later.

- Okay, so flashback to Hadassah's dead parents giving her her VerySpecialNecklace that's apparently from the Promise Land. This is clearly very important. It's very unimpressive, and it's supposed to do this this where if the light catches it right, it refracts stars of David all over the place, which rotate aaround the room, even though the necklace isn't movie. I take major points away for this. it's so fucking cheesy.

- Mordecai talking with a priest pal who just came into town from Jerusalem "Ah, what ecstacy to stand in the presence of the Almighty, like the intimate embrace of a husband and wife. Foreshadowing the importance of Romance! *jazz hands* in this story. This one's for you, ladies!

- Dumb moth flutters past Hadassah, sitting on the roof, because we needed another cheesy motif here.

- Moth flies to the Palace, of course. Gimli's voice over continues to flesh out the characters. There's a subplot/motivation device here that includes references to going to war with Greece and the season of feasting here is a cause for debate on whether King Luke Goss is going to avenge his father's death and keep fighting Greece.

- Speaking of King Luke Goss. If there was any doubt to the idea that this movie was made for us thirsty Christian gals, this is how they introduce him:

- Very disappointed that they didn't deck the feasting hall with "White and blue linen hangings fastened with white linen cords". And all the cups are supposed to be gold and each one different from the other. #bookaccuracy fail here.

- So because we're fleshing out the characters, Vashti refuses to show up to the feast when summoned, not because she doesn't want to be shown off like a horse, but because she's in protest of the king going to war with Greece. I guess because she doesn't want him to die? Anyway, understandable change, since he's a RomanticHero (TM).

- Hadassah sneaks out to check out the feast with Jesse.

- Ahhh JOKES! WE GOT 'EM!

*pretty sure he said "I would drink also to my guard" the joke makes more sense in that context*

- So then Denethor suggests they drink to Vashti's beauty, knowing the crowd will urge the king to bring her out and show her off. I guess Xerxes kind of has an arc here where he has to decide "are you gonna do what your father would have expected of you or being a peace-time culture king like you want to" and has to decide to face up to his advisers and make is own choices, y'know. He's only been king for three years, so this is a pretty decent character building device.

- The crowd is chanting for Vashti. And because Xerxes has drank at least half a glass of Respect Women juice, so he's like "What are they serious? They expect me to just trot her out?" then his sneaky advisors who want to stir shit up are like "Vashti's protesting the war, this would put her in her place." but Hegai, the cool eunuch (played by the late Tommy "Tiny" Lister, God rest his soul) is like "Sir, don't do it. You know the queen's position on the war." But Xerxes does it anyway. Ya'll know the story from there. Feminist Icon (TM) Vashti is like "Bitch, no".

- Jesse and Hadassah, are watching the feast from the rafters and flirt badly. Hadassah just wants to see the queen too. Jesse tries to kiss her and she's like, nah bro.

- You guys want a laugh?

- King Luke Goss, having opened himself up to having is pride wounded by his women, does indeed have his pride wounded. Denethor and the guys tell him that he's gotta put his woman in her place, lest all the women in the kingdom defy their hubbands. This is from the Book. King Luke Goss's right hand man is like "Well, protocol says you gotta throw her out on her ass so *shrug*".

- Take a drink every time they say the word "Protocol"

- Cue Mordecai's "Oh shit" face.

- Hadassah is like "hey jesse this just escalated. If there's no Queen with pretty dresses to admire, then let's run away to Jerusalem babayyy!

- Gimli explains in voice-over that the king sent out a decree that every eligible young woman be sought out and brought to the palace. Like Cinderalla, but with more police brutality.

- unfortunately for our pal Jesse, they round up young men too. You know, cuz if there's gonna be this huge influx of women in the palace, you need eunuchs to attend to them.

- hadassah is bummed that Jesse didn't show to run away with her. Then we cut to Mordecai explaining that women are being rounded up. "But no worries, I'm sure they won't get you. i mean how many women could they possibly need? I bet the nobles have already gotten their daughters an in through bribes. but uh, just in case, we'll give you a Babylonian name. How about Esther?"

- So Hadassah, having just been told that girls are being rounded up on the streets, decides she's gonna go for a walk. guess what happens then?

- the soldiers who nab her steal her VerySpecialNecklace.

- Hadassah and the gals are brought into a dank looking vestibule. In a neat editing thing she Prays that for God to "turn these dungeons into someplace wonderful". cut to a torch-lit room with marble-tiled floors. I see what you did there.

- Hadassah tries to cheer up the gals by showing them all the cool silks in this nearby chest that's just there, already open. Cuz, you know, she's brave. One girl is like "Am i ever gonna see my parents again?!" and Hadassah is like "No, Im sure we'll be home in no time!" but then this other girl, who is much prettier than Tiffany Dupont is like "OH SO YOU THINK WE'RE NOT PRETTY ENOUGH?" it's tough being the main character.

- ENTER HEGAI, THE COOL EUNUCH.

- That night Hadassah has a flashback to the night the scary riders in black with their swastika braclets killed her parents.

- Hadassah wakes up in the morning and Hegai the cool Eunuch finds her spinning around in the garden because she's such a free spirit. Hegai the cool Eunuch is like wtf is wrong with you?

- War council shit. they're telling King Luke Goss the budget for the big war. and he's like "You know we could spend that on infrastructure." Denethor is like, nah let's do war things instead because the greeks are all democracy. gag. King Luke Goss's right hand man points out that war costs a bunch, and it's prbably a good idea not to spend so much when you're not militarily gifted.

- Hegai the Cool Eunuch gives the gals a pep talk. "Okay, so you've been kidnapped and held here to be married off to a king who dismissed his last wife for disobedience. This sucks. But, not as much as having your balls cut off. You're in a much better situation, and you get to to keep the jewelry even if you get sent home. He also mentions being blinded in this scene, in relation to his own capture and castration, and I just want to say I think it's cool that they included Tommy Lister's blind eye as part of his character here.

- Cue spa montage.

- Haman puts the works in motion for his big play against the jews, and starts putting it out that the Jews are super into Greek democracy and thus pose a threat.

- Lunchtime for the candidates. Hadassah gets out of eating her ham by throwing it to the monkeys.

- Hadassah complains that the Queen training consists mostly of beauty treatments and not on things like finances and literature other queen shit. Hegai the cool Eunuch is impressed that she can read.

- Hadassah comes back to her room that night to find that Hegai has stocked it with scrolls. Cut to her reading the Epic of Gilgamesh to the gals. Hegai the cool Eunuch listens in, and is moved, lamenting that he can't read it in its original Akkadian, like Hadassah can, and says that reading is one of the few pleasures left to him. This is actually quite an affecting scene.

- Hegai the cool Eunuch lets the gals into the treasury to pick out their jewelry for their interviews. The gals go hog-wild, cuz they get to keep it. Hadassah hangs back and asks Hegai's opinion on what would most suit the king's tastes. Because maybe she is smart? Since King Luke Goss is a man of simple tastes under it all, Hegai gives her a simple necklace. And surprise! it's hadassah's VerySpecialNecklace that got snatched when she was taken!

- Because Hadassah can read and she and Hegai the cool Eunuch are pals, Hegai has her come read the chronicles to the king.

- I see they saved the blue and white linen hangings for King Luke Goss's bedroom. Okay.

- King Luke Goss is making some sculptures because he's arty that way. Hadassah comes in, sits on the bench and starts reading the chronicles (King Luke Goss is obscured by a gossamer curtain)

- "Admiral Xtes was honored for serving twenty years in the Royal Fleet. After a lengthy speech, he promptly keeled over and died. *Giggle*" Even though, reading the chronicles and giggling cutely at them would have been a fine way to endear herself to the king all on its own, she decides to deviate by reciting the story of Jacob and Rachel from memory.

(No Shit, though, Luke Goss's line delivery here sends me.)

- King Luke Goss is all "Pretty sure that's not in the chronicle. But you've got me interested tell me the ending." So then after he asks her name he's like

- And again, bitch is living my best life.

- My kingdom for some chemistry here, because Luke Goss is putting out and I'm just getting nothing from her.

- oh also, he explains the sculpture he's currently working on is gonna be Eros when it's finished. He never actually says Eros because that would be too bow-chika-wow for this ChristianMovie but we know who he means. And I'm here for it.

- Then Hegai comes and collects her and is like "OKay, i pulled some strings for you, this was not your formal interview, you get another one, and you CANNOT tell anyone else that you got an early sitting with him because it's not strictly fair.

- So she goes back to her room and has this fantasy of King Luke Goss coming into her room, and I mean which of us wouldn't?

- Cut to a dusty military camp. King Luke Goss is sparring. The choreography is Season 5 of GoT Levels of bad

Because King Luke Goss is shirtless! As he is for at least a third of this movie. Because they KNEW their target audience.

- Hegai the Cool Eunuch shows up and tells King Luke Goss that the advisors have ordered candidates to be brought for their interviews at the camp, and king luke goss is like "You have got to be kidding me." Hegai is not kidding him.

- Jesse, it is now revealed, has become Hatach (Who we shall call "the Sad Eunuch"). Hatach is an actual figure from the Bible, who became Esther's personal chamberlain. He finds a moment alone with Hadassah, commenting on her change of name. This is the first time she's seen him since he didn't show to run away with her. She comforts him about their having to use Babylonian names by reminding him that Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were pagan names too. Jesse, because he's a know-it-all, rattles off their Jewish Names (Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah, for those of you who didn't ace your Bible trivia in Sunday school, like i did).

- Jesse/Hatach the Sad Eunuch tells Hadassah that he's found a way for them to escape. Unfortunately for him, Hadassah's pretty stoked on captivity since she's all goo-goo eyes for King Luke Goss now. Jesse the Sad Eunuch feels betrayed, of course, and wonders to her what good could come from their situation. (BECAUSE OLD TESTAMENT PEOPLE DIDN'T KNOW STUFF).

- Hadassah says that rather than lamenting their situations, they should make the best of them. Which is easy for her to say, because her situation means that she might get to marry King Luke Goss, while Jesse's situation just means that he no longer has his family jewels. He's resigned to never being able to be involved with Hadassah, but still wants her to run away with him. This poor fuckin' guy.

- It's time for the individual interviews to begin! First up is Misgath of Persepolis, a daughter of a rug merchant, and dumb bimbo. For her interview, she's supposed to go riding with the king. Which does not work out for her because she cant ride a horse, and also put on ten pounds with all the gold jewelry she snagged from the treasury. Hijinks ensue.

- Hadassah is bummed because King Luke Goss hasn't asked her back to read for him again, which he suggested he would. Hegai is like "damn girl it's only been like four days" but because Hadassah is a teenager "a few days is a thousand years". Hegai sympathizes with her and tells her about the girl he intended to marry before he was captured and cut.

- Back with King Luke Goss, he's waiting in his tent for the next candidate, who, he's informed, is having some stage fright. She winds up throwing up. King Luke Goss is done with this shit.

- MONKEYS!

- And now it's time for Esther's official interview (I'll be calling her Esther from here on out). Fortunately for her, her interview is taking place on familiar territory, the king's bedroom.

- Esther is super nervous, even though she has a significant head-start over all the other candidates.

- He has her read to him again, same pattern as before, except this time he seems really impatient. He complains about the endless procession of women he's being subjected to. But then he notices that it's her, and not the other dumb bimbos he's come to expect. She's SUPER nervous now.

- He questions the fact that she's only wearing the one piece of jewelry (her VerySpecialNecklace). She stands by it. He asks if she's simply adorned because she has a low estimation of her self-worth. She responds that the necklace is her only valued possession and she brings it as a gift for him, not as a trinket she expects to keep for herself. Good move. Wonder if Hegai the cool Eunuch taught her that line.

- I just noticed that you can hear the fans that are producing the wind to make the curtains flutter in the background of this scene. Good lort.

- Tiffany Dupont's makeup in this scene is almost as tragic as the script.

~~posting here because I've reached the image limit, so i'll reblog with the next part~~

#one night with the king #live blogging #christian fiction #christian movies #bible stories #queen esther #luke goss #old testament

[jeweled-blue-eyes]

siodonna just reminds me of those weird sexualizes mish mashes of Indian and Middle Eastern countries 😭😭 manhwas pls give me decent poc rep it's not that hard

I don't think a drawing inspirations from multiple places is necessarily bad thing since the world in wmmap is still a fantasy world. It would be bad however if Obelia was based on a single European country and spoon took the time to accurately portray it while the South Asian/ “Middle Eastern” influenced country doesn't get the same treatment. Though this doesn't seem to be the case here since Obelia also seems to be a mish mash of multiple European countries (Athy's tiara for example looks Russian, but baby Claude's sailor suit is from England, while adult Claude's robe looks like from Greece or ancient Egypt and Jennette's debutante dress is French.) Isekai isn't known for historical accuracy and therefore shouldn't be tagged as such *glances at certain manhwa sites*. 

The sexualization...yeah that's a valid criticism. Diana embodies multiple problematic tropes: If she's supposed to be (South) Asian, you could argue that she fits the the Lotus Flower archetype of the "self-sacrificing, servile, and suicidal Asian woman", cause she was willing to sacrifice her life just to give birth to Claude's child. Who was her employer, who deflowered her on the first night they met. Claude was also the Emperor of a country that seems to be inspired by Imperialistic nations of the past that oppressed countries like India (which Siodonna seems to be based on). All we know about Diana is through Claude. We know she's pretty and sensual, that many men desired her, we know that she is sorta naive and pure, she loved Claude alot and “healed” him from his childhood trauma, we also know that she’s normally wearing really really thing clothes even though she came from Siodonna to Obelia, which I assume has a warmer climate than Obelia, judging from the way Athy dresses in thicker European clothes. These are all traits that can be seen as problematic when collected in the right context. Of course, there is also the skin colour debate. I wouldn’t have minded Diana being blonde if we actually had any decent poc representation in the ensemble cast, but seeing as there is none giving Diana European features takes away from the representation that could have been there.

#anon #answered asks #diana discourse

[asleepinawell]

Book Recs

I was gonna do one of these at the end of the year, but I’ve somehow managed to read 26 books this year already (12 novellas, 14 novels), almost all featuring queer authors and/or characters so this is already a long list.

Note: There’s a few on here I was kind of meh about, but in most of those cases it was a ‘book might be good but it’s not for me so i’ll mention it to put it on people’s radar anyway’ type of thing. Insert the usual necessary tumblr disclaimer about all of this being only my opinion and your opinions are valid too etc etc.

In order of when I read them:

Princess Floralinda and the Forty-Flight Tower by Tamsyn Muir - Fantasy novella from the author of gideon the ninth that’s a twist on the classic princess trapped in a tower waiting for a prince story. Quite fun. (novella)

The Monster of Elendhaven by Jennifer Giesbrecht - Dark fantasy about revenge and magic. m/m couple but like I said it’s pretty dark and twisted all around so definitely not a happy queer romantic story. My opinion was interesting premise that could have been executed better and probably should have been a full novel to embellish on the world building potential. (novella)

A Memory Called Empire & A Desolation Called Peace - Arkady Martine - Probably tied with murderbot as the best things I read this year. Scifi, f/f couple, wonderfully done exploration of what it means to fall in love with a culture that is destroying your own. More of the many queer anti-imperialist books that have come out recently and certainly some of the best. The second one is a direct continuation of the first. (2 novels)

The Tyrant Baru Cormorant - Seth Dickinson - This is the third in the Baru Cormorant series (The Masquerade) and was my favorite so far. The second and third book were originally one book that got split I believe and the second book didn’t stand alone as well (though was still great), but the third book really made up for that. Dark fantasy world starring a queer woc whose country and culture is destroyed by the imperial forces of that world colonizing and assimilating them. She vows revenge and decides to work her way up within her enemy’s ranks to enact it from within and bring an empire to ruins. Really really fascinating study of so many different aspects of our own world and the systems which enable and allow bigotry and how bigoted and violent narratives are used to control minorities. This is definitely a darker series and I was particularly impressed with some of the commentary on the racism prevalent in non-intersectional feminism as depicted through a fantasy world. Can’t wait for the last one to come out! (3 novels, 1 forthcoming)

The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells - There’s six of them--5 novella and a novel--and the first is All Systems Red. Told from the point of view of a self-aware droid/android that is rented out by a corporation to provide protection in a dystopian capitalist hellhole future that isn’t that unlike our current capitalist dystopia but is in space. Muderbot hacked the chip that controlled it and instead of going rogue just wants to be left alone to watch its favorite tv shows. Murderbot is painfully relatable and the books are both funny and poignant. Highly recommended. (5 novellas and a novel).

Winter’s Orbit - Everina Maxwell - This was a m/m romance novel with a scifi backdrop of royal intrigue. Generally I’m more into scifi with a queer relationship in the background than vice versa, so it wasn’t my favorite, BUT I think it was still well written and someone looking for more of the romance angle would enjoy it. Has all your favorite romance tropes in it, especially the yearning. (novel)

The Divine Cities - Robert Jackson Bennett - Three book series. I’m very conflicted about this one. Set in a fantasy world where an enslaved nation overthrew the country enslaving them and now rules over them. It’s a story of what happens after the triumphant victory and within that it’s also a murder mystery tied into the dying magic of the conquered nation. It also has a six foot something naked oily viking man fist fight a cthulhu in a frozen river. The second book was by far my favorite, mostly due to the main character being brilliant. My conflict comes from the fact I don’t feel like the story treated its women and queer characters well. Like it had really great characters but it didn’t do great by them overall. That and the third book didn’t live up to the first two. But still definitely worth a read, can’t stress enough how cool some of the world building was. (3 novels)

Into the Drowning Deep - Mira Grant - This might be the only one on here I disliked. It’s got a doomed boat voyage and creepy underwater terror and monsters and a super diverse cast of characters, but I just didn’t enjoy the writing style. While having a diverse cast is great, there were a lot of moments where it felt like characters were pausing to explain things about themselves that felt like a tumblr post rather than a normal conversation you might have while actively being hunted by monsters. I also bounced off all the characters. But a lot of people seem to have liked it so if you’re into horror and want a book with a f/f main couple then maybe you’ll enjoy it. (novel)

Dead Djinn Universe - P. Djèlí Clark - Around the early 1900′s, a man in Egypt discovers a way to access another world and bring Djinn and mysterious clockwork beings called Angels through. As a result, Egypt tells the British to get fucked and Cairo becomes one of the most powerful cities in the world. So Egypt, magic, djinn, a steampunk-ish vibe, oh and the main character is a butch queer woman who enjoys wearing dapper suits and looking fabulous while she investigates supernatural events. Her girlfriend is also mysterious and badass. And she has a cat. There’s three novella (one of which technically might be considered a short story) and then the first novel. You should absolutely read the novellas first (A Dead Djinn in Cairo, The Angel of Khan el-Khalili, The Haunting of Tram Car 015). Super fun and imaginative series. (3 novellas and a novel, more forthcoming)

River of Teeth & Taste of Marrow - Sarah Gailey - From the book description

“In the early 20th Century, the United States government concocted a plan to import hippopotamuses into the marshlands of Louisiana to be bred and slaughtered as an alternative meat source. This is true. Other true things about hippos: they are savage, they are fast, and their jaws can snap a man in two. This was a terrible plan.”

Queer hippo riders!!!! Very much a western but with hippos. Main couple included a non-binary character. Loved the first one. The second one I was more meh about due to one of the characters I was supposed to like having obnoxious man pain that a woman had to take the brunt of the whole time. Also there were less hippos. But queer hippo riders! Definitely read the first one, and they’re both novellas so no reason not to read the second as well. (2 novellas)

A Psalm for the Wild-Built - Becky Chambers - I may be the only person who hasn’t read the long way to a small angry planet at this point, but I did grab her new novella and I loved it. It made me want to go sit out in the woods and feel peaceful. The world it’s set in feels like a peaceful post-apocalypse...or diverted apocalypse maybe. Humans built robots and robots gained sentience, but instead of rebelling they just up and left and went into the wilderness with a promise that the humans wouldn’t follow them.The remaining human society reshaped itself into something new and peaceful. It’s the story of a monk who leaves their habitual monking duties to go be a tea monk and then later wanders into the wilderness and becomes the first human in ages to meet a robot. Very sad there’s no fan art yet. (novella, more forthcoming)

The March North - Graydon Saunders - This was such a weird book that I’m not sure how to explain it. The prose style is hard to get used to and I suspect a lot of people will bounce off it in the first chapter. There’s no third person pronouns used at all and important events get mentioned once in passing and if you blink you’ll miss them. Set on a world where magic is extremely common to the point that rivers sometimes run with blood or fire and the local weeds are something out of a horror movie and most of the world is run by powerful sorcerer dictators, one country banded together (with the help of a few powerful sorcerers who were tired of all the bullshit) to form a free country where powerful sorcerers wouldn’t rule and the small magics of every day folks could be combined to work together. The story revolves around a Captain of the military force on the border who one day has three very powerful sorcerers sent to them by the main government with the hint that just maybe there’s about to be a big invasion (there is) with the implication of take these guys and go deal with this. The world building is extremely complex and very cool...when you can actually understand what the fuck is going on. There is also a murder sheep named Eustace who breathes fire and eats just about everything and is a Very Good Boy and belongs to the most terrifying sorcerer in the world who appears as a little old grandma with knitting. It had one of the most epic badass and wonderfully grotesque battles I’ve ever read. But yeah, it is not what I would call easy reading. Opinions may vary wildly. I did also read the second one (A Succession of Bad Days) in the series which was easier to follow and had a lot more details about the world, but overall I was more meh about it despite some cool aspects. The chapters and chapters of the extreme details of building a house that made up half the novel just weren’t my thing. (novels).

The Space Between Worlds - Micaiah Johnson - In this world parallels universes exist and we’ve discovered how to travel between them, but the catch is you can only go to worlds where the ‘you’ there is already dead. This turns into an uncomfortable look at who would be the people most likely to have died on many worlds and how things like class and race would fit into that and what we would actually use this ability for (if you guessed stealing resources and the stock market you’d be correct). The main character is a queer woc who travels between worlds with the assistance of her handler (another queer woc) who she has the hots for. She accidentally stumbles on a whole lot of mess and conspiracy and gets swept up in that. Really enjoyed it. (novel)

Witchmark - C.L. Polk - Fantasy world reminiscent of Victorian England (I think?) where a young man with magical gifts runs away from his powerful family to avoid being exploited by them. He joins the army and fights in a war and comes home to try and live a quiet life as a doctor, but a murder pulls him into a larger mystery that upturns his life. Also he’s extremely gay and there’s a prevalent m/m romance. This one was a fun-but-not-mind-blowing one for me. (novel, 2 more in the series I haven’t read)

The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon - This was one of those that everyone loved but I couldn’t get into for some reason. I tried twice and only got about halfway through the second time. It’s got dragons and queer ladies and fantasy world and all the things I like, but I wasn’t that invested in the main story (which included the f/f couple) and was more interested in the smaller story about a woman trying to become a dragon rider. There are few things that beat out a lady and her dragon friend story for me and that was the storyline that felt neglected and took a different turn right when we got to the part I’d been waiting for. But, I know a lot of people whose reading opinions I respect who loved it, and if you like epic fantasy with dragons and queens and treachery and pirates and queer characters then I’d say you should definitely give it a try. (novel)

Bonus: I didn’t read these series this year, but if you haven’t read them yet, you should.

Imperial Radch (Ancillary Justice) - Ann Leckie - Spaceship AI stuck in a human body out for revenge for their former captain, but that summary does not come close to doing it justice. Another one examining imperialism and also gender and race.(3 novels)

Kushiel's Legacy Series - Jacqueline Carey - This is two series, six books total, and starts with Kushiel's Dart. Alternate universe Renaissance-y Europe in a fantastical world where sex isn't shameful and sex workers are respected and prized. Lots of political intrigue and mystery. A lot of BDSM and kinky stuff too (the main character is a sexual masochist, oh and also bi!). I first read this series when I was fifteen or sixteen and it definitely made a big impression on me. Same author also wrote the Santa Olivia series which I’d also recommend. (6 novels)

The Locked Tomb (Gideon the Ninth) - Tamsyn Muir - I mean, if you follow me, you know. If you don’t follow me you still probably know. I’d have felt remiss to have left them off though. Lesbian Necormancers in Space. Memes! Skeletons! Biceps! Go read them. (2 novels, 2 forthcoming, 1 short story)

Books On My To Read List:

Fireheart Tiger - Aliette de Bodard

The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water - Zen Cho

Black Sun - Rebecca Roanhorse

This Is How You Lose the TIme War - Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

Ninefox Gambit - Yoon Ha Lee

Also, if anyone has any recs for scifi/fantasy books starring queer men (not necessarily having to do with a queer relationship) and written by queer men I’d love them. There’s a lot written by women, and some of them are great, but I’d love to read a story about queer men from their own perspective.

#book recs #books #mp

[blackfilmmakers]

Does “coded” talk about fantasy characters ever annoy you? I once explained to someone talking about a Japanese fantasy game series not known for racial diversity, that the people from a desert nation weren’t coded as Egyptian as only the evil wizard and his brainwashed slave were depicted without a pale skin tone and that it was just a very colorist trope in Japanese media that using evil darkens a characters skintone.

Even showing that the brainwashed character was white before she was brainwashed and that every other character from desert nation was a pale white person. They got really mad at me and said I was wrong.

Did I do anything wrong by simply pointing out a colorist trope in the game?

While discussing about the racial coding of nonhuman or fantasy characters is important, there are times when the discussion can be frustrating

Particularly when people insist a character is "poc-coded" when they are played by a White person, and the character is a colonizer that does oppress an actual group of marginalized people. Or when people claim a nonhuman character is "poc-coded" because they are aggressive, dumb.......you get the gist

With that said-

I don't know what game you are referring to, but Japanese media(as most media in other countries do) participates in colorist AND oriental depictions of MENA cultures

If the group of people in this story live in a desert region, then there is a good chance they are supposed to represent a group of Brown people somehow

It's like the anime series, Magi. While the world is fictional it's obvious the main characters reside in this MENA Arabian-like inspired region. I'm using these words loosely because part of the problem with the oriental depictions of these cultures is that they are all mashed together. Sometimes Southeast Asian cultures are thrown into the mix too. It's messy

Anyways you know how in Aladdin, the people are at least Brown-skinned? Most of the characters in Magi are very pale. Like shouldn't go out in the sun much less in a desert sun pale. And like I said that's a combination of colorism (because the heroes NEED to be lightskinned in the series) and orientalism

So definitely what you described is indeed colorist

But even if the people are lightskinned, they can still be Egyptian-coded. We know they whitewash and lightwash Egyptians all the time. Gods of Egypt and most Bible stories shows us this

I can't say for sure if the other person is right or not. I don't know what type of clothing the people in this game wear or what their lifestyles are like. But if it's a type of a culture you can see Egyptian elements or something in that regard, this person might also be right. I would just ask them what aspects of these people make them Egyptian-coded other than "live in desert". It could also be just an ambiguous MENA stereotype

#colorism #racial coding #anon #thx for the ask

[growingstronglikeahighgardenrose]

Anti-blackness in 19th century England, why Queen Charlotte wasn’t black, and why it doesn’t matter in Bridgerton

I’d like to start by saying Bridgerton is a very amusing piece of absolute fiction. From the dresses to the music to the fanfic tropes it uses and the books it’s based on. It doesn’t even start to pretend it’s realistic. And being a piece of modern historical fantasy made by a woman born in this age, it is alright for the showrunners to give it a modern vibe. If you want, you can trace the lineage of every duke of Hastings there has ever been and know exactly who they were and what they looked like. Everyone knows there was never a black duke of Hastings, meaning there is no harm nor a deliberate attempt at “changing history” by the showrunners. They’re not pretending they’re portraying real events and real people of 1813. Therefore I accept that in this “alternative reality regency” it is fine for people of all ranks, including Queen Charlotte, to be black. I loved Golda Rosheuvel’s portrayal, I loved her looks, her acting and I tolerate her half-ishly accurate outdated wardrobe (for those interested in fashion history: look up “regency era court gowns”, old styles were worn but Charlotte would wear normal dresses day-to-day). I’m thrilled to watch her in the second season as well.

However,  I will screech if I see people claiming Charlotte was black in real life. There were black people in Europe during all periods of history. They could be very influential and wealthy, and yes, they could even be nobility in some rare cases. There is a growing field of research tracing the steps of black people in Europe throughout time, revealing the often overlooked presence of black people. However, Queen Charlotte isn’t one of them. And I say this because claiming her to be black, would mean the British Monarchy, way ahead of its time, was accepting of black people. it would also mean the British people, who were more than a bit racist, generally accepted a (partially) black woman. Rather than Charlotte being black leading to her being described as black, I believe the confusion about her being black stems from people back in the day using racially ambiguous terms to make clear Charlotte looked ugly (because in a racist colonial world the best way to insult someone is by saying they look like a slave).

Being a historian, I do believe I have to give evidence for my claim. I’ll be using her ancestry, written descriptions and paintings. However, buckle up because you’ll be getting a lot of side information on other POC in art and literature. So if you’re interested in learning a bit about the relationship between the concepts of race and beauty in the 18th and 19th century, here we go. (note: if I use any offensive terms without direct citing someone, do let me know I will change them as soon as possible)

1.    When did these rumours start

During the Regency Era, when the world was still a very colonial one, Queen Charlotte was described by some as having a big nose, full lips and an ambiguous complexion. However, her race was never debated, until academic discussions picked up around the 1940s.

2.    Queen Charlotte’s family tree.

The Portuguese royal family definitely has Moorish blood in it. No one can contest that. Muslims and Europeans lived together on the Iberian Peninsula for 800 years. The question is whether that means that royals with a Portuguese ancestor can be called “people of colour”, and how far down the line people can still claim to be people of colour. Almost all royal households of Europe married into the Portuguese royal family at some point, yet of few royals it is said that because of that heritage, they are people of colour. That argument is only made for Queen Charlotte (imo that probably has a lot to do with the fact that the world is dominated by the Anglosaxon countries and that because of their worldwide tentacles and their language being the most universally spoken, the British Royal Family receives the most interest from everyone all over the world. Other royal families don’t get as much attention).

Note that I used the word people of colour, that is because the root of Charlotte’s supposed African heritage is not necessarily black. Let’s take a look at her family tree.

According to historian Mario de Valdes y Cocom — who dug into the queen’s lineage for a 1996 Frontline documentary on PBS — Queen Charlotte could trace her lineage back to black members of the Portuguese royal family. Charlotte was related to Margarita de Castro y Sousa, a 15th-century Portuguese noblewoman nine (!) generations removed.

Margarita de Castro e Souza herself descended from King Alfonso III of Portugal and his concubine, Madragana, a Moor that Alfonso III took as his lover after conquering the town of Faro in southern Portugal.

This would make Queen Charlotte a whopping 15 generations removed from her closest black ancestor — if Madragana was even black, which historians don’t know. That’s a lot of generations back. de Valdes y Cocom argues that, due to centuries-long inbreeding, he could trace six lines between Queen Charlotte and Sousa, which would mean Madragana’s genes were a bit more influential, but still 15 generations ago. That’s her grand-grand-grand-grand-grand-grand-grand-grand-grand-grand-grand-grandmother.

So, let’s pretend it is true and her ancestor was black, let me be very rude. An ancestor that appears once in a person's genealogy, fifteen generations removed, represents a 215-th fraction of its descendant's ancestry. Queen Charlotte’s black ancestry would be less than 1%. In fact it'd be 0.007% (rounded up) of Charlotte's ancestry, and that's IF Madragana could be proved to be Moorish. And if Moorish was only used to describe a black person. However, the use of “blackamoor” “moorish” and “mozaraab” are not an alternative word for black. Indeed, there is no definitive skin colour attached to these descriptors.

It is generally accepted that Spanish Moors were the Muslim Amazigh (formerly known as Berber) inhabitants of the Maghreb, a stretch of land in north-Africa including parts of the Sahara, but not Egypt. During the Middle Ages, they occupied the Iberian Peninsula and other parts of southern Europe, before being finally driven out in the 15th century. The greatest period of unity was probably during the period of the kingdom of Numidia. Over the centuries, the word came to acquire a plethora of other meanings, some of them derogatory. Importantly, it cannot be ascribed a single ethnicity. Moors are not always black, this is false. They remaining people in Africa can be anywhere from Arab, to black people. But I’m not delving into north-african migration patterns and population changes. In Europe, the moors could thus be Arab, black and often mixed ethnicity, the natural result of coexisting and intermarrying with white Europeans for centuries.

http://acaciatreebooks.com/blog/royalty-race-and-the-curious-case-of-queen-charlotte/

  3. Gender, Race and beauty standards

The world of the 19th century was riddled with Anti-blackness. Part of this continued from the medieval belief that white was good, and dark was bad (see white knight, fair lady, black knight, dark magic notions that still persist today). It also does not help that during the Regency Era, Greek and Roman antiquity were very trendy. Although the old roman empire was a culturally and ethnically diverse society, regency people focussed on fashion, hairstyles and looks from the classical art period of Greece. People aspired to look like the statues: elegant, slim and dainty and wanted “noble” features (straight slim nose, even face, cheekbones, etc). That’s why in the regency era people were complimented for having “alabaster skin” or a “Grecian profile” and so on.  These medieval notions of fairness and the grecian beauty ideal, were juxtaposed against the medieval notions of darkness combined with deeply colonial conceptions of womanhood and race. In a world in which white people controlled other ethnicities, race soon became a weapon, a tool to be used against someone. Just like… gender. And yes, you’ll soon see how these two go hand in hand.

Throughout the nineteenth century the domestic world and the public sphere became more and more separate, with women being given less space to move and work. All women had to be dainty housewives: refined, sensitive and docile, clever but not too well read. Of course, this was an unattainable standard for most women. Only women in the top layer of society were able to lounge around and do nothing all day. Many had to work. Many things of what women were supposed to be: pale, soft hands, were direct signs that they didn’t have to do manual labour (out in the sun, using their hands). Women who could not fit in that small domestic sphere were increasingly (especially later on in the Victorian era) seen as unfeminine and unworthy of husbands. Coarse, manly, unfeminine, unrefined they were often called. Welcome to 19th century “masculinity so fragile”. Just imagining a woman working or reading made men felt threatened. They hated the idea women weren’t just lounging around waiting to please them and provide for them. https://www.bl.uk/romantics-and-victorians/articles/gender-roles-in-the-19th-century# https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/pit-brow-lasses-women-miners-victorian-britain-pants

Now look at this sketch of a female mine worker, one of many.  Although the argument can be made she’s dark from the dirt, I want to point out that she’s also portrayed as scantily clad, wearing more manly clothes, being broader, wide of face and her hair appearing… quite curly.She’s the opposite of the beauty ideals, the opposite of what society wants a woman to be... and she’s suspiciously black-coded.

Pervasive and passive stereotypes of black people have come into existence since colonialism. Cruel caricatures of black people were omnipresent. Going as far as to ascribe them animal-like features with big mouths, big ears, sloping foreheads and so on. https://www.jstor.org/stable/2712263?seq=4#metadata_info_tab_contents

I could write a million essays on how race and sex have been weaponized in the past. When the “exploration travels” first started, and even much later in art, faraway lands were portrayed as sultry lazy or untamed women, waiting to be conquered and domesticated. Transforming countries into women was done to make them “controllable”. Portraying them as lazy and wild was a way Europeans to give themselves license to colonize them. Just like women at home, these foreign lands needed the guiding hand of cultured civilized men showing them how to do things and ruling them. So either men could control women which was perceived as good, or they couldn’t in which case the woman was looked down upon and hated. I don’t have an exact reference for this one, but it was a very interesting topic in my class on “Global History” at University. But for now this one carries a good part of the load.

https://www.ferris.edu/jimcrow/jezebel/

It is then no surprise the female black body became a site of seduction there for the white male’s taking. They literally became their property as slaves, just like a man’s wife was considered his property. White men sexualized black people, particularly black women, a stereotype that perpetuates to this day and age. See the link above for that as well. Black women became temptresses.

White women, of course, didn’t like that. They wanted their men to be theirs. So these 19th century Karens started hating them as well. These wild temptresses were out to catch their men with their “foreign looks”. Meanwhile white men hated the idea of white women being seduced by black men. And this, combined with the resentment for working class women, gave way to a kind of language people used to describe each other. All stereotypes (medieval+ working class women looks+ black looks) were stacked atop each other: dark, tempting, coarse, black, plump, uncivilized, wild, broad-faced, thick of lip… Hair didn’t much come into play in the 18th century since most people of high society wore wigs (which in paintings can look like type 4 hair but cannot be used as an indicator of race) but afterwards “tight coils” was also added to the list of features that weren’t deemed desirable. This physical robustness not only lies in the idea that people who work are “hardened” but by describing them with strong robust adjectives, upper class white people once again fuel the idea that these people were physiologically designed for hard work, like slave labour or mine work instead of life as a wife. See also present day notions common even in doctors how black people and black women don’t feel pain as much. A devastating prejudice that leads to black death, black mothers dying, black people’s health complaints not being taken seriously and so on.

4. Black, racially ambiguous and “foreign” coding in physical descriptions

 So we all know the memes of “Historians say they were friends” and so on. It’s a fun meme, but this carefulness in naming things stems from the fact that A) sources are made by people and people are subjective as fuck B) it is deemed a big faux pas for a historian to look at history through a 21st century lens. The rabbit hole that is historical epistemology boils down to the claim that a thing cannot exist before there is a word for it. You need to be careful that you don’t apply a term to an event, person or society wherein that term didn’t exist, or the meaning of the term was different. We shouldn’t draw conclusions about the past with present day notions. When a person anno 2020 is described as dark, we know they’re probably south-east Asian or black. However, we may not believe that a person being described as dark in the 17th century means this person is black. I shall explain.

Back in a time when black equalled inferior, people found no better way than to ascribe black attributes to people they disliked. It is hard to find out whether these people were actually darkskinned, since portraits were commissioned and painted to the desires of the clients (they could ask to be painted with white skin). We have no photographs of the time period to verify whether people did really look the way people described. With few people able to move around the country by carriage, as this was expensive, most people relied on letters, books and papers to give them accounts of events and people, so if one person claimed a person looked like X, others oftentimes had no choice but to believe the account, as they lived too far away to verify. Thus I shall focus on the world of literature, where there were no real people we can compare descriptions to, to prove that the good guys were portrayed as fair, and bad guys were portrayed as… racially ambiguous without them having to be black, or any other ethnicity.

Fairytales: Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. There’s literally no argument to be made at all. But just take a look at fairytales from the Brothers Grimm. Nine times out of ten, the evil stepsisters and stepmothers are described as dark and ungainly while the heroine is fair. If there are transformations, the evil people get transformed into gross animals like toads, while the heroine is transformed into a fawn, a bird or a swan. I’m being unnuanced here, there are definitely heroines with dark hair (see snow white, but she’s still snow white of skin) and the reasons for ugly-animal-transformations has to do with the character traits that have been ascribed to those animals. These stories circuled orally since the middle ages, and most trace their roots back to even before that time. Though the world was not yet a colonnial one, it is a sign that darker looks were already linked to bad people. These notions of darkness have been absorbed into the notions about black people during colonialism. People already lived with  concepts of fairness for good people and darkness for bad people in their heads, it became easy to continue these concepts when faced with black people.

Jane Eyre: Jane is described as green eyed (a very rare colour, most prevalent in white people), fairy-like, skinny and pale. Although Brönte tells us she is ugly (she indeed doesn’t confirm to beauty ideals at the time) she appeals to Mr. Rochester and fits more into the stereotype of beauty than her romantic rival: Berta Mason Rochester. Bertha’s laugh is “hysterical” and “demonic”, she is dangerous and injures her own brother. “What it was, whether beast or human being, one could not, at first sight, tell: it grovelled, seemingly, on all fours; it snatched and growled like some strange wild animal: but it was covered with clothing, and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wild as a mane, hid its head and face.”

Dear reader, Mr. Rochester is described as being tempted into a marriage, to a wild foreign animal-like madwoman with dark grizzled hair and red eyes. Although there is no description of her skin colour (Bertha could very well be any ethnicity) there are clear parallels in the way she is described and the way POC were described. In the context of the 1840s readers would instantly attach this picture to their preconceptions about others with a similar look. Jane doesn’t even need to describe Bertha’s personality, the readers have already decided what she’s like because they understand that the author means dark looks= bad personality. Dark looks= foreign looks. Additionally: Blanche Ingram, Jane’s other rival was described as a fine beauty with a stereotypically beautiful body but had an olive complexion, dark hair and dark eyes. These were desirable traits in England at the time, but the darker beauty of Blanche comes with a bad personality and in the end, she too is rejected in favour of our pale heroine Jane.

Wuthering Heights: Heathcliff has long confused readers. It is most probable, in my opinion, given the context of the time, that Heathcliff was of roma origin as roma were strongly disliked in England at the time, and he fits best in the stereotypes associated with them. It’s also much more probable that an English gentleman would take in an orphaned European child than a black child, especially given he raised him as a son (british people weren’t that kind, they wouldn’t raise a black child as their son). However, the author, still clearly relies on a certain set of dark characteristics to describe him. “I had a peep at a dirty, ragged, black-haired child; big enough both to walk and talk: indeed, its face looked older than Catherine's; yet when it was set on its feet, it only stared round, and repeated over and over again some gibberish that nobody could understand.” “He seemed a sullen, patient child; hardened, perhaps, to ill-treatment: he would stand Hindley's blows without winking or shedding a tear, and my pinches moved him only to draw in a breath and open his eyes.” “You are younger [than Edgar], and yet, I'll be bound, you are taller and twice as broad across the shoulders; you could knock him down in a twinkling; don't you feel that you could?” “Do you mark those two lines between your eyes; and those thick brows, that, instead of rising arched, sink in the middle; and that couple of black fiends, so deeply buried, who never open their windows boldly, but lurk glinting under them, like devil's spies?” “he had by that time lost the benefit of his early education: continual hard work, begun soon and concluded late, had extinguished any curiosity he once possessed in pursuit of knowledge, and any love for books or learning. His childhood's sense of superiority, instilled into him by the favours of old Mr. Earnshaw, was faded away … Then personal appearance sympathised with mental deterioration: he acquired a slouching gait and ignoble look; his naturally reserved disposition was exaggerated into an almost idiotic excess of unsociable moroseness;” “His countenance was much older in expression and decision of feature than Mr. Linton's; it looked intelligent, and retained no marks of former degradation. A half-civilised ferocity lurked yet in the depressed brows and eyes full of black fire, but it was subdued; and his manner was even dignified: quite divested of roughness, though stern for grace.” “He is a dark-skinned gypsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman”

Once again: black eyes, heavy brows, black hair. He is rough, can stand a lot of heavy burdens, seemingly indifferent to pain. He has something devilish and uncivilized about him, and is oftentimes believed dumb. Admittedly, this portrayal is more nuanced, he has a knack for studying and he does look like a gentleman. But the author is clear that it is only superficial and he is still mad within. It thus becomes very clear, already only from literature, that if you want someone to look bad, you make them look manly, workmanlike and ascribe to them black features.

For more examples of racial ambiguity, casual racism and explicit racism in English 19th century books: https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/victorian-literature-and-culture/article/casual-racism-in-victorian-literature/1B4B3B0538F8B7C6B58E6D839DCFEC92.

This technique was adapted by EVERYONE. Wanted to make your enemy look bad? Then write a very uncharming picture of them attributing them with stereotypical black features. The most common remarks were: broad noses, big lips, frizzy hair, swarthy and/or dark complexians, coarse looking and unrefined. If you wanted to be really rude you could start comparing people to animals and call them wild and unhinged because “madness” was and is a very common insult. Had an issue with your wife in the 19th century? Lock her up for “hysteria” and “madness”. Got a political opponent in the 2016 presidential elections? Call her mad and hysterical. Got an opponent in the 2020 presidential elections? Challenge his mental capacities. Psychological issues and disorders have often been used to make people look bad and invalidate them. Basically everyone who isn’t reacting in a neurotypical and stereotypical male way (i.e. show no emotions and so on) was classified as “unreasonable”, thus taking away their voice. So many interesting articles and books on this.So we have an intersection between race, womanhood and mental health that are used to control and reject women.

https://warwick.ac.uk/fac/arts/history/chm/outreach/trade_in_lunacy/research/womenandmadness/

https://www.jstor.org/stable/4286909?seq=1#metadata_info_tab_contents

https://www.routledgehistoricalresources.com/feminism/sets/women-madness-and-spiritualism

https://www.amazon.com/Madness-Women-Myth-Experience-Psychology/dp/0415339286

TLDR: In literature bad characters were often described with physical attributes that were seen as ungainly. They were codified with animal-like, manly and mad. They also had black and dark attributes to signal to the reader that they were not the heroes of the story. Bonus: they often met a deathly or bad end. Writers did it, but so did real people when they wanted to accuse a rival (Karl Marx being one such asshole for example, http://hiaw.org/defcon6/works/1862/letters/62_07_30a.html ). This is why we can not always trust written accounts of contemporaries before the age of photography when a person is described with racially ambiguous looks.

5. Descriptions of Queen Charlotte:

 Just like Beethoven, Queen Charlotte’s main claim to blackness boils down to one ancestor at least two centuries before her birth, combined with contemporary descriptions of a certain hair type, wide nose and bad complexion. Descriptions of Charlotte during her lifetime describe a plain and small woman, with a wide and long nose, and lips that were not the rosebud ideal. As the court became accustomed to her, however, more people started complimenting her brown hair, pretty eyes and good teeth. Much of the imagery that has fuelled claims of Charlotte’s possible African ancestry is from the first few years of her time in England. Royal brides have been ripped to pieces by tabloids, and the public also performs a horrible hazing-like ritual(see: Kate Middleton was mocked for being a party girl, lazy and from working class background. Meghan Markle was described as an opportunist husband-snatcher. Diana was a “chubby child”. The ladies also got plenty of critiques on their looks). Once the bride gets through years of being bullied, critiqued for every little part of her being, she then suddenly comes out on the other end after a few years, becoming a darling and an attribute to the royal family. Could it be that royal brides are always, especially in a gossip heavy environment like a court, under deep scrutiny? This foreign princess hobbled off a boat, seasick, unknown by the English… And she didn’t speak a word of the language! Why would the English love her? I am not saying the accounts lie but I am saying beware of the person making the comments. Are they close to the monarch and his wife? Do they like Queen Charlotte? When where these comments made and why? And why did they choose precisely these words that had by now become commonplace to use as descriptors for unpleasant people? If we know people used racially ambiguous terms to describe people they disliked, it isn’t such a stretch to imagine they might insult a new queen with such terms.

Let’s look at what was actually said about her.

 Horace Walpole: “The date of my promise is now arrived, and I fulfill it — fulfill it with great satisfaction, for the Queen is come. In half an hour, one heard of nothing but proclamations of her beauty: everybody was content, everybody pleased.”

Baron Christian Friedrich Stockmar, the royal physician to her grandaughter: “small and crooked, with a true Mulatto face.”

Sir Walter Scott: “ill-colored.”

Colonel Disbrowe (her chamberlain): “I do think that the bloom of her ugliness is going off.”

Queen Charlotte herself in a diary: “The English people did not like me much, because I was not pretty; but the King was fond of driving a phaeton in those days, and once he overturned me in a turnip-field, and that fall broke my nose. I think I was not quite so ugly after dat [sic].”

What we can conclude from these remarks that Charlotte was not very pretty, she even admits to that herself. But what are her actual physical attributes? She has light brown hair (I didn’t include a description of this, but it was generally reported), she had pale eyes (as can be seen in all paintings), was small, and had good teeth.

Above I gave two accounts that reported on her skin tone. Ill-colored could be anything like bad skin, rosacea or perhaps tanned (which also wasn’t deemed becoming for ladies). There was only one person, Baron Christian himself, calling her face what he did. As mentioned above, there can be multiple reasons why anyone would ascribe her those features, she did not have to be a “mulatto” to be described as one.

Most importantly, in a society with slavery, in which black people were looked down upon, I’d say the absence of more people calling her things like: dark, swarthy, black, mixed, brown and any and all things associated with black looks, is more telling than a few accounts mildly referring to her colour.

If Charlotte were truly the first black queen, the first black person in such a powerful position, and one of the few black people in England (less than 30 000 at the time), would there not be more talk? More descriptions of her look? She was seen every day by many people. People would be shocked, enraged, surprised, fascinated and so on. In an era when many people kept diaries in which they wrote down all they witnessed, many people would have given descriptions of her black/brown skin colour. In an era with cartoons and press… Her being noticeably black would have been a very big thing and we would have seen journalists and cartoonists draw her as dark. Cartoonists and diary writers mostly write or draw their honest thoughts. They weren’t censured.

  6. Paintings of Queen Charlotte:

Queen Charlotte’s most striking likenesses, or so it is believed, were painted by Allan Ramsay, a prominent artist and staunch abolitionist. In 1761, Allan Ramsay (1713-1784) was appointed Principal Painter in Ordinary to the King (1761-84). As well as being Principal Painter, his portraits have been singled out by many as depicting Queen Charlotte with distinctly African features. It’s believed this was his way of displaying his abolitionist tendencies. He was an abolitionist, that much is true, and he was also friends with the legal guardian of the very famous black Dido. However why would the royal couple approve blatant African features, knowing those would not be well liked in an English queen? They would not have allowed these images. Clearly, they saw in these images only a likeness to Charlotte, and yes, that could mean she had fuller lips and a wider nose. Anyone can have those features. Personally, I find that a slightly larger nose and larger lips in some paintings are not sufficient proof to call her black. But let’s run over some of the paintings.

Most paintings portray her as a typical light-skinned royal with nothing bad about her complexion. 

In these pictures she does not look black in the slightest, indeed I’d say her eyes and eyebrows look very light even, nor do her nose and lips, so often critiqued, look big, as was claimed.

Here we can see her nose looks a bit wider, and her lips a bit bigger. But is that really a convincing argument? Although certain features are more common to a certain race, they are not monopolized by one. Black people can have light hair and light eyes. It is unlikely, but it is possible. It’s just as possible for white women to have bigger lips, a wider nose, a rounder face and even… though rarely, there are white people who have no black relative they know of, white 4a hair. I’ve met a few of them. What I also want to note is that Queen Charlotte’s natural hair could have been crimped and combed until it stood upright and was stiff with powder, as was the fashion back then. It would give her hair a more frizzy look. In the picture underneath it, you can see her hair in fashionable artificially made curls that wouldn’t work on natural type 3 or 4 hair.

 However as I said before, I’m not fond of using paintings as proof since they were made-by-demand. Painters would starve if they painted their patrons unflatteringly. There are black people, indeed, even black nobles, ex-slaves, diplomatic ambassadors who had themselves painted with a dark skin colour since the Middle Ages. You can even see the distinction between people of darker-skinned sub-Saharans and North African descent in these pictures. And painters certainly knew how to paint black people for centuries (see: "The Image of the Black in Western Art" by Harvard University Press and “Revealing the African presence in Renaissance Europe”). One such example a noble who did have black heritage was Alessandro de Medici who was nicknamed “the Moor”. Moors referred to black Islamic people. His mother was Simonetta da Collevecchio, a servant of African descent. In this case the argument that many Italians are dark of complexion and have dark hair cannot be used to explain his appearance. If other Italians thought he looked like them, they wouldn’t have paid such attention to his looks because they would have deemed it normal. I’m using 3 paintings of him by 3 different artists. The first picture really is ambiguous, it is only by combining all three that we can say that yes, his looks do fit the bill. If we only had the first picture, would we really be confident to claim him? This goes to show that you can’t say someone has a certain ethnicity based on one painting.

This person was comfortable in his own skin but there were probably just as much, if not many more nobles and wealthy families with mixed blood that had themselves painted white when they were not. Who would disagree? Who would even know? Nine chances out of ten barely anyone who wasn’t from the direct neighbourhood didn’t know what they looked like, and never would. Once the POC died, all that would remain would be a very white looking painting, and no one would know the bloodline had become mixed.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/oct/29/tudor-english-black-not-slave-in-sight-miranda-kaufmann-history

 What is, then, a reliable source? An answer, for famous people, is cartoons. Just like we now attach more credibility to a paparazzi picture of Khloe Kardashian than to one of her heavily photoshopped pictures on Instagram, you can trust cartoonists to not try and make people look good. Note: cartoons are always over-exaggerations. Any physical attribute will be enlarged beyond belief for comedic purposes. King George and his wife were often pictured in cartoons. If there was anything very noticeably foreign about Charlotte’s looks, they would portray it. However, what we find is that these cartoons never portray Charlotte as darker than the other people. She wasn’t shown as being black.

Conclusion:

Queen Charlotte cannot be called black on the basis of her portraits, cartoons or bloodline. If ever there was a trace of black blood in her veins, it was so light it had become undetectable and could not have influenced her appearance. Just ask yourself this question: would you call yourself a certain ethnicity, or claim certain roots, based on one ancestor 200 years in your past? If no, then you also shouldn’t say that Charlotte had black roots or was mixed.

The case of Queen Charlotte does, however, reveal the deeply racist British society of the Georgian Era, which deemed all black physical features ugly, and deliberately used all physical traits associated to the black race as an insult. Keep this in mind, as well as rampant anti-Semitism and hatred for Roma people, every time you read a novel from the time period, or read a tasteless description of a real person from the era. People were cruelly treated based on their heritage, and even if their heritage was purely white, they could be ascribed certain racial features, just because people were racist pricks.

While that’s the unfortunate reality of the time period, I do believe we are allowed to enjoy an alternate reality as an escape, where just for once, race isn’t an issue. So continue on, Bridgerton!

Meanwhile, I’ll be here keeping my fingers crossed for the stories of real black people living in Europe, or black kings and queens in Africa, to be told in a movie or series. The entire world has always existed, it makes no sense for all period movies to keep being focussed on white people in England, Rome and the US.

#bridgerton #Queen Charlotte #Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz #british monarchy #racism in history

[novamirmirsblog]

Drops of Jupiter

Word count: 1248 (I went wayyy over what I was supposed to write XD)

Genre: Fluff, angst if you squint

Warnings: none

Request: Yes

The request: I was listening to TS’s version of “drops of Jupiter” on repeat so now I’m asking if u can write a fic where carol and fem!reader r broken up b/c of carol traveling so much for work but they’re still very much in love and they get back together in the end plz thank u sm

A/N DUDE YOU HAVE JUST INTRODUCED ME TO MY NEW FAVE SONG. Excuse me while I listen to this on repeat for the next 3 months. Also this has nothing to do with the MCU timeline cause I want all my babies to be happy and alive.

Carol was... an enigma. She drew you in with the promise of answers to any question you could ever think of only to make you work for them. Her bright eyes caught your interest first and her vibrancy and love of everything kept you hooked. You had met her at one of Tony's parties to celebrate not dying (again) when she was telling the guys all about space and the adventures she had got up to.

Carol Danvers was stunned by you.

She had been so invested in telling her story that she hadn't realised you had joined the group. She had to do a double take when she saw you standing there, dress as dark as the black holes she had sped past and eyes as bright as those beautiful stones she had come across when saving a planet from being destroyed by a giant snake. Her tongue got thick and her eyes went dark and hooded as she tried to remember what irrelevant story she had been telling. You had erased absolutely every thought that didn't contain you from her mind. And god when you smiled she thought her whole world would stop.

You both fell in love with each other that night.

Well, sort of. You had both fallen in love with the idea of each other, the looks, the fantasies you were both loudly creating (much to Wanda's annoyance). The night you fell in love with each other's souls is a much sadder tale.

The amount of dates the two of you had been on was unreal. You both spent every available moment together, not wanting to leave each other's sides unless absolutely necessary. On your 5th date, Carol had officially asked you to be her girlfriend. You, of course said yes and yet this was not the moment you fell for her soul.

You didn't fall for her soul when she took you to a theme park, or when she flew you up to space for the first time, or when she took you to sit on the top of Mount Everest (it had been an extremely cold date but she managed to make it up to you by bringing you to the pyramids in Egypt). The truth was, was that while Carol was an absolutely amazing girlfriend when she was there, 9 times out of 10, she wasn't. There was always an emergency, always someone who needed saving. You understood perhaps better than anyone, being a SHIELD agent yourself you were constantly being called away during all hours of the night. The universe just didn't want to see you two together. Whenever you had a lull in work, or a holiday, Carol always seemed to be up there, in space. That woman literally had her head in the clouds! The trips to space would never really last longer than a few days, a week at the most. You could tell she was getting restless when she kept snapping at you. She would always apologise straight away, telling you she was just tired, but you knew it was because she hadn't been up there for a while.

Unfortunately, you had fallen for Carol Danvers, well and truly fallen for her, when she left.

Carol had received an intergalactic distress call from a planet with too many syllables to be able to pronounce with any dignity. It was coming up to your 5 month anniversary and you were upset, but not surprised. You didn't know if the trip was really that important but you knew she was going whether you liked it or not. She packed her bags quickly, all with a smile on her face because why wouldn't she be smiling? She wasn't the one being left behind.

"You're really not mad about me going? I'll be gone for 6 months." Carol threw some socks into the suitcase.

"Of course not." You said, a sad smile playing on your lips. You knew this day was coming. Carol was barely around as it is. You tried not to think about how the amount of time Carol would be spending away from you was longer than your entire relationship.

"I think that it may be best if we break up."

Carol stilled at that

"What? I thought you weren't mad."

"I'm not mad. Not at all but you're never here and let's face it, this trip is going to last a lot more than 6 months. You're a shooting star my love, absolutely beautiful but not made for ordinary people to touch."

"Don't say that, y/n, please. You aren't ordinary."

"It's fine darling, you belong among the stars."

"I'll come back Y/n, I'm not going forever." Carol made her way over to where you were sitting on the bed, pulling you into her. "Please don't do this."

"You don't understand Carol" you pushed her off you, standing and making your way to the door "I need this. I need you to either be here with me or to let me leave. I can't deal with this anymore. Th-this in-between state I'm constantly in. My friends want to meet you, my family want to meet you but they can't because you're always off saving a damn planet!" You took a breath and ran your hands through your hair. "I know you could never choose between me and space which is why I'm taking the choice away. Goodbye my love."

~~~~~

You had been right. Carol's trip had lasted closer to a year and a half before she came back. In all that time you had never once been with someone else. You had tried - really tried, been on multiple dates, even nearly had a drunk one night stand - but nothing seemed to work. Carol Danvers was well and truly stuck in your head. You had had months to regret your decision, you just hoped Carol was happy. Sure a small part hoped she hadn't moved on but a larger part just wanted her to be happy.

She had returned one Thursday afternoon. Usually you hated Thursday afternoons. They were boring, they had no substance and felt like they stretched forever. This Thursday afternoon however, filled you with nerves when F.R.I.D.A.Y announced that Carol's ship had returned. You bit your lip and prepared to talk to your ex girlfriend for the first time in a year and a half.

"Did you sail across the sun?" You muttered, more to yourself but Carol heard you.

"I made it just to see that all the lights were faded compared to you Y/n."

"I know I was the one who broke up with you but please, I'm begging you to give me a second chance. I've missed you so so much."

"I missed you while I was looking for myself out there. Of course I'll give you a second chance."

"I never stopped loving you, you know. Even after I broke up with you."

"I know baby. Me too. It hurt so much to leave you behind. It's why I think next time you should come with me. God Y/n, the things I want to show you..."

You laughed, happy tears leaking from your eyes. You were so worried that she would shun you, not allow you to talk to her. You had missed her with your entire being. The two of you had a long conversation to have but for now, you were content being in Carol's arms and Carol was content with having you in hers.

#carol danvers #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x you #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x female reader #captain marvel #captain marvel x you #captain marvel x female reader #captain marvel x reader #request #captain marvel fluff