#CATEGORY FIVE GREAT LAKES MOMENT
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Lake Huron rolls Superior sings in the rooms of her ice water mansion old Michigan steams like a young man’s dreams the islands and bays are for sportsmen and farther below Lake Ontario takes in what Lake Erie can send her and the iron boats go as the mariners all know with the gales of November remembered
#CATEGORY FIVE GREAT LAKES MOMENT#superior they say never gives up her dead when the gales of november come early…….#guys would it kill the vibe if I sung the wreck of the edmund fitzgerald at bar karaoke on friday night#blabbey
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
✤ Fantasy Fics ✤
A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.
- Top 5 H/L Fics -
1️⃣ Collision by itjustkindahappened / @tequiladimples [E, 226k]
Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.
(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)
2️⃣ Purer Than The Water (like we were) by FeelsForBreakfast [E, 33k]
Louis is a merman and Harry is a boy. The lake is a good place to fall in love.
"Louis wants the boy to wade deeper, deep enough that Louis can go under and wrap his fingers around his ankles for just a moment. Pull him under. Just touch skin, for a second."
3️⃣ with your love we could breathe underwater by luminescents [M, 28k]
Harry’s brow furrows, a look of confusion spreading over his face. “But I am real. I exist, see,” he says, raising a hand out of the water and wiggling his fingers at Louis.
Louis finds himself relaxing a bit. Harry seems harmless really. And he’s quite cute, for something that’s not supposed to exist. If Louis is indeed having a hallucination right now, at least it’s a cute one.
AU where Harry is a mermaid, Louis is a human, and they both discover a lot more than they anticipated.
4️⃣ long hair don't care by ballsdeepinjesus [E, 20k]
He catches his breath and stands, brushing dirt off of his breeches when he hears a scared peep behind him. Louis spins around, startled, and is greeted by the sight of an extremely pale boy with extremely luscious dark brown curls. His hand starts to reach out involuntarily to try and pet his hair, but he stops it quickly and tries to smooth it into a bow. He glances up, fluttering his lashes, and levels the trembling boy with a charming smile.
“Hi,” he drawls. He doesn’t see the frying pan until it’s too late. Everything goes black.
[harry is sheltered and louis is a thief. or, a tangled au.]
5️⃣ Through Eerie Chaos by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics [G, 102k]
For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.
The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.
- HIDDEN GEMS -
💎 forever is in your eyes by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [M, 125k]
Harry looks fragile in the moonlight, and Louis stands there, pondering, not even sure what it is that he’s thinking of. It’s all just noise in his head, a mix of melancholy and desire, of longing for something that he doesn’t even have a name for.
He wants-
He wants love. He wants to be held and cherished and have a home. Not just a place to lay his head down at night. He wants to be loved the way that Louis had loved creating Harry. He wants his perfect man, but he wants him to be real. He wants Harry to be real-
His lips press against marble, against something cold and unforgiving, and it’s not until his hand comes up to rest against a sculpted neck that his eyes fly open and he stumbles backwards, nearly falling off the stepladder that he’d stood on.
“Jesus Christ.” He whispers, shaking his head and resisting the urge to brush the back of his hand against his lips, erase evidence that isn’t even visible to the naked eye. Harry stands there, as though nothing’s changed, and of course he does, because he’s a statue.
A statue that Louis has just kissed.
💎 Love Will Light The Way��by @jessapeak [E, 26k]
Most people throughout Louis's life thought that dying brought you to one of two gates. Heaven or Hell. Really, it brought you to a dated diner, just outside of the suburbs, skirting the beginning of the city. Where, instead of God, you met Liam Payne and his post-it notes. Well, not for everyone, but for the select few whoever is in charge up there deemed fit to help guide the living into death. Unfortunate people like Louis. Who'd honestly rather just lie in bed and pretend it had all been a dream. A very bad, cliche dream. It wasn’t though and this was his new normal. As much as he hated it.
And Harry? He just wanted to know who the man was that kept killing his patients.
💎 The Blood of Love by @mugglemirror [E, 25k]
Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.
💎 foothold by @turnyourankle [M, 18k]
Louis has crossed the galaxy with a ship full of crystals; they’re the only thing he has to offer in exchange for safe harbor. He thought getting to his destination would be the hardest part, hoping that once he got his family to safety everything would fall back into place; Louis struggles to adapt while his sisters thrive. Louis suspects Emperor Styles may have something to do with it.
💎 Sympathy For The Devil by @taggiecb [G, 5k]
Louis keeps stealing some of Harry’s mail, which would be annoying for anyone, but it’s especially troubling when you consider that Harry is Santa Claus. Harry will have to go through hell to get Louis to stop. Literally.
Or the one with Santa Harry and Satan Louis and a series of misspelled letters to Santa.
#hlsource#hljournal#yourlarrysource#hlcreators#tracksintheam#trackinghome#1dficvillage#1dsource#trackinghappily#ficrec#taggiecb#turnyourankle#mugglemirror#jessapeak#so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed#wearethesame#mediawhorefics#mediawhore#ballsdeepinjesus#luminescents#tequiladimples#itjustkindahappened#feelsforbreakfast
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
2013 Friday Recs - Week Four
Happy Friday! Some reading recommendations for your enjoyment. No particular order and more to come.
No, I can't believe another 'year' has gone by so fast! We've barely scratched the surface of all the great fics written in 2013. I hope you found some gems.
Darkness Is Your Demon by AvengersTime
You take away the sense you're most depended on from your enhancements, and you feel truly, helplessly, defenseless. Or, in which Tony and Clint are trapped in a cold, dark basement during an invasion of the Tower. Yet another deaf!Clint short by a (almost) deaf author.
One More Minute by sobefarrington
Clint needs a little more time.
I Was Me (But Now He's Gone) by sgflutegirl
Sentinel Clint Barton, and his Guide, Natasha Romanoff, are the strongest Sentinel and Guide pair employed by SHIELD. After their bond is violently ripped apart, Natasha believes Clint is dead. She soon finds out that he has been taken and brainwashed by Loki. When Natasha finally gets Clint back, will he ever be the same, or will the trauma he suffered at Loki’s hands change him and their bond forever?
Good Luck with That by Erica_T
Five Times that the Black Widow divorced Hawkeye for the 'Job' and the one time that he married her for Real.
Tchaikovsky by vivoroni
It's nice to have someone who will jump (and has jumped) into a lake after her. Or, three times Natasha has gone to the ballet.
I Welcome Your Hatred by jayquinox
Natasha explains why they cannot love.
acta non verba by distelhawk
Sometimes in life, things happen that you don’t think about, that you not once in your wildest imagination believe could happen. And when they do, you stop for a moment and you look to your left and to your right and wonder, just for a split second, if this is actually your life or if someone somewhere fucked something up and you’ve ended up in someone else’s fuckfest of a life.
Superhuman by silent_revelations
He could've killed her, when they fought on the helicarrier. And what if he did? Like Loki planned? - "But there's no barter, no end to the bargain, and she's pretty sure she won't get to see the light at the end of the tunnel. She'll be dead by then."
In The Sky by Ciasquare
Clint and Natasha are star watching.
Five Times Natasha Thinks She's in Love and One Time She Knows by pitythewise
Natasha might be falling in love, despite her best efforts.
If you are one of the authors or know them on tumblr and they are not properly tagged, please let me know in comments and I'll add them. Please feel free to click the Iriel3000fridayrecs link below to browse more categories.
#iriel3000fridayrecs#hawkeye#black widow#clintasha#clintasha fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#strike team delta#the avengers#2013#picked some sad ones#not sorry#they are sooo good#still crying
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! Then send it to the last ten people in your notifications (anonymously). You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity. ♡
Thank you, stranger who I totally don't have a guess as to who you are!
I, um, got more rambly about these than I anticipated.
Chatting with friends online. Mostly on Discord, because that's where most of the people I chat with are, and the singular person I currently talk with the most is on there, but like... any chatting. I also want to be talking to someone else basically all the time, so technology that enables that has honestly been phenomenal (even if I can't always do this because I'm just awkward and horrible at carrying a conversation before I'm familiar with the other person).
Theorist videos. The various MatPat channels have been my comfort media for... I think it's getting pretty close to a year now (although in those first months it overlapped with James Acaster stuff). 2.5. Honorary mention to James Acaster, since I'm on the subject. Even though I'm not seeking out his stuff as actively lately, it still makes me happy to watch. And also, like, he has given me Memories that I will not forget until my dying day (though I'm still not sure whether that's good or bad).
Escape rooms. Escape rooms always help me unwind, I wish I could be doing them basically all the time, but they are expensive and also most don't allow just one person, so with few friends who live nearby to me I am SOL. Alternately, as a substitute, I wish I knew more good point-and-click escape games. Zero Escape was fantastic, Rusty Lake is always phenomenal... If I could find more like those (like as far as difficulty in solving), it'd be awesome. Anyways tldr is that I love having puzzles to solve.
My family. Maybe this is like an "absence makes the heart grow fonder" thing, but like, now that I've moved out, going to visit my parents, I always feel so refreshed after. I'm honestly grateful I have such a great relationship with them. ...although I also just got off the phone with my mom in what was supposed to be a "quick" call that ended up being an hour, so I'll admit there are moments when I'm still heaving a deep sigh about them. 4.5. Obviously family includes pets, both the ones in my house (my snake and hedgehog), and the ones that are technically my parents' (dog and cockatiel), but I spent years living with them and referring to them as "mine" and I don't care to break that habit.
Stuffed animals. Plushies. Give me all of them. Also blankets, which aren't really the same but are both in that "snuggly" category and I'm on the last number so they're being shoved together.
Special mention to "whatever the current hyperfixation is". Right now I'm kind of between interests, and kind of just jumping around in different things and seeing what sticks, but usually there's some huge thing that I'm thinking about like 90% of the time because I don't know how to consume things in moderation. So like... when I do have one of those, whatever that thing is is a thing that makes me happy.
#not a reblog#answered ask#me#also like pls don't feel awkward about me maybe knowing who sent this#honestly like it's been so long since i properly /interacted/ with people on tumblr that i'm delighted to be getting stuff like this again#so legit thank you
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why do I Need a Whole House Water Filter System?
Did you know? A whole house water filter system is the first line of defense to guard your family's water health. It is essential to install a whole house water filter system. Why do I need one? Chances are you don't live in the city center. If you get your water from a well or live in a rural area, there is no treated water supply from the municipal authorities. Most tap and well water is very polluted today. Just think of all the trash you usually see on the lake. This is when you need to consider installing a whole house water system. Chances are you live in the center of town. Even if the government or other water agencies have treated the tap water that comes to your home, there are many contaminants in it that you can see or not see. As the same time, the pipes that carry water can accumulate bacteria and viruses, such as lead and chlorine, that can be harmful to your body over time. The scary thing is that most of the contaminants won't harm you immediately, but they can be deadly over time. Drinking water contaminated with parasites, viruses, or other disease-causing bacteria can cause various infectious and parasitic diseases. Drinking water contaminated with cadmium can cause kidney and bone lesions. Drinking water contaminated with lead can cause poisoning, anemia, and nervous disorders. We know that 80% of the world's diseases are water-related. Typhoid, cholera, gastroenteritis, dysentery, infectious liver category are the five major human diseases, all caused by unclean water.
Benefits Of Whole House Water Filter Systems: 1. Make the water source clean for the whole family from the source 2. Filtered water reduces hidden limescale in showers, sinks, and pipes, minimizes the chance of clogging, and extends the life of household appliances and pipes 3. Removes bad odors such as chlorine 4. Indirectly protect the environment and reduce the chances of buying bottled water (bottled water is not always clean either) Nothing is perfect, it also has disadvantages, including: 1. Higher price 2. Requires a professional for installation 3. Water needs to flow quickly through the filter, which can cause a drop in water pressure Of course, the whole house filtration system can also replace only one of the cartridges. The price of post-maintenance is not too high. We recommend that you make your choice based on the realities of the moment, but we believe that these disadvantages can be overcome compared to long-term health. Some replacement cartridges are cost-effective and can be used less to exceed expectations. Now let's move on to the following. 1. Recognized Certification: Food Grade Material Meets European EC1935-2004 Regulations, Australia Water Mark, TUV, ROHS, REACH, BPA FREE Certified 2. Large Filtration Area & Great Flow 3. High Capacity: The filter can filter up to 30000 gallons depending on water quality 4. Models fully adapted With the modernization of our society, it is becoming more challenging to drink clean and healthy water, so let's take care of our health, starting with this glass of water.
0 notes
Photo
PRINCE NICKY NABS GOLD! QUEEN’S YOUNGEST SON WINS SKI COMPETITION
Her Majesty’s son, Prince Nicholas was hailed overall champion for the skiing category at the annual Arendahl Alps Snow Sports Festival.
The Prince championed the slopes and beat over 120 athletes from all over the world, winning the coveted title.
(Above: Photos from the competition show a confident and beaming Prince Nicky, conquering the slopes.)
His Royal Highness, much like his other siblings, is an accomplished athlete, having competed in more than a dozen international competitions all over the globe. While Anya’s forte is horseback riding, and Ingrid plays football, Prince Nicky is a pro at snow sports like skiing and snowboarding.
The Prince’s big win was reportedly a proud moment for The Queen and Prince Jacques. The Palace shared the Prince’s photo (see top photo) with the caption:
“Congratulations to His Royal Highness Prince Nicholas for winning the gold cup for Skiing at this year’s Arendahl Alps Snow Sports Festival. Brindleton is proud of you.”
While his mum and dad were unable to attend, big sister Anya and big brother Alistair were at the festival to cheer on HRH. Also present are Prince Alistair’s closest friends, Sonia Yisfahami and Robert Rosslicht. Sonia was formerly linked to Prince Alistair, however, the two were quick to deny the rumours. Speaking of rumours, despite the contest being held in Arendahl, Princess Katrine, who was recently “dumped” by Prince Alistair, was a no-show, somehow confirming the gossip that the break-up (despite earlier reports) was far from amicable.
Later in the evening, Their Royal Highnesses and their friends were spotted at Lake Lammyk, where the party of five tried their hand at ice skating. While Crown Princess Anya (with a little bit of coaching from Prince Nicky) eventually picked up the pace and managed to take a few laps around the lake, Prince Alistair had a bit more trouble. His Royal Highness was photographed falling several times, and at one point, had to be “escorted” off the lake by a laughing Sonia.
(Above: (L) CP Anya had a bit of trouble at the beginning, but Prince Nicky taught her well. (R) The Crown Princess enjoyed a few laps around the lake, and was photographed chatting with Robert Rosslicht, Prince Alistair’s best mate.)
(Above: Prince Alistair struggled the entire time and had to be helped by his friend, Sonia, off the ice.)
(Above: Their Royal Highnesses were seen laughing and playing around, as well as posing for photos. While they had their security the entire time, they obviously made the most of their trip and had a lot of fun!)
The outing, aside from a celebration of Prince Nicky’s big win, also served as a “last hurrah” for Prince Alistair, who will begin his military training in a few weeks. If the pictures are any indication, it looks like the day out in the snow was a great success! The Royal Siblings looked like they had a fantastic time, goofing around and taking photos.
Congratulations again, Prince Nicky!
#ts4#theroyalsims#ts4 royal#ts4 royals#ts4 royalty#ts4 royal family#ts4 royal story#ts4 royal simblr#royal simblr#ts4 simblr#simblr#ts4 story#ts4 stories#ts4 storytelling#ts4 legacy#ts4 gameplay#ts4 edits#ts4 screenshots#ts4 fashion#brindleton bay#the sims 4#the sims#mystory
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nature’s effect - Fd!Au
This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by @antarctic-bay ctic-bay if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!
Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!
This fic was corrected by the lovely @im-default
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Techno started working at the local vivarium and finds out that nature can change and calm even the most hyperactive people, just like Tommy
I did a poll on the Fd!au server about who my next fic should be focused on and Techno/Tommy won, so here you have it!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warning! Swearing
Enjoy~
“I’m sure they’ll love the flowers! Thank you and have a nice day!” Camille waved the last customers off and started cleaning the counter of the rotten leaves and flowers that she had cut off the last order, Techno was kneeling in front of a shelf busy applying tags on products.
“Techno are you almost done with those?”
After saving some flowers from Wilbur’s room, Techno had taken a liking to tend plants and gardening in general, the local vivarium owner Camille had taught him many tips and tricks that made him a perfect employee for the job.
He was pretty hyped for his first day at work, well... it was more of a trial per se, it was a test to see how he would react to the human interactions and how fast he could get the hang of the profession, which went great in his opinion:
Camille was great at explaining how to take care of the plants and wrapping the pots for gifts, she was so elegant while she passed the ribbon around the wrapping paper Techno almost tripped by getting distracted while looking at her.
His job in the magic home of plants was pretty simple: water the plants that weren’t irrigated automatically, check for parasites, diseases, or rotten leaves, restock the expositive plants and help costumers for whatever they needed, and of course, if he didn’t know what to do, just call Camille or any other employee for help.
“You did great today Techno! The old couple you helped earlier seemed very satisfied!” Techno blushed at the compliment since he couldn’t handle them and ended up stuttering, “T-thank you…”
“There are still thirty minutes before we need to close… Are you free to stay a bit later? I can show you how the irrigators system works and where the shelves outside go when closing the shop” He froze as he took his phone out of his pocket.
There where multiple messages coming from none other than the gremlin, and the last three (out of probably twenty all saying “I am bored” and “Answer pig” ) where what caused the strong reaction:
Gremlin
YOu are working at the plant place, right?
Gremlin
Big P and Big W won’t be home till late
Gremlin
Im bored so im coming over
Oh no…
Oh no no no-
“Um... Camille? My brother is at home alone, can he wait for me here until I finish?” The kind girl did not hesitate for a moment, “Absolutely! Not many customers arrive this late so there will be no problem!” Techno released the breath he didn’t notice he was holding, texting angrily back at Tommy, cursing at him to wait until he answered before taking initiations.
Just after he learned how the irrigation system worked, a familiar red and white t-shirt popped into view, “If you want Techno, you can ask your brother to help you take care of the greenhouses, it’s an easy job and you said he was bored at home yes?” Techno nodded and thanked the owner of the vivarium, he walked up to Tommy, who as soon as he saw him, burst into a laugh.
“BWAHAHA!!! WHAT ARE YOU WEARING TECHNO?!” The pink-haired boy looked down at his outfit, which consisted of his school uniform, a pair of green rubber boots, and a cute green apron with a daisy onto it. “What are you laughing at Tommy?” his younger brother was holding his stomach, wiping a tear off of his eyes, “The apron! It’s so- Pffffff-!” Techno sighed, shaking his head, “You are an absolute child… Phil wears an apron when he cooks too and so does Tubbo when he is in art class! How is it funny to you?! It’s a simple piece of clothing!!!” He turned around hoping Tommy would follow, there was no way he was giving him a pair of scissors so a watering can should busy him enough to avoid boredness.
“Hey! I’m not a child! I’m a big man Technoblade you should know” he puffed his chest to look high and mighty, “And how do you not find aprons funny big T?! They are like a little skirt… ok fine ignore me then” noticing how Techno wasn’t turning around nor paying him attention, he followed him to the greenhouses in silence looking at the number of plants and flowers that were littered everywhere.
As soon as Techno stopped he handed Tommy a watering can full of water that he almost dropped, “WHOA- what the hell man?! This is heavy!” Ignoring his brother's complaints, he adjusted his glasses and grabbed a pair of scissors, “Water the third and fifth row, don’t get the leaves wet, pour it directly on the soil and-” Techno turned to face him, “Don’t make a lake in the pot, stop watering as soon as you made a slow circle around the plant” As soon as he finished talking, he kneeled in front of the first plant of the first row, leaving Tommy with a heavy watering can and overcomplicated instructions.
“Don’t make a lake and don’t do this a-and don’t do that gne gne gne… Ugh what a pain in the ass” Tommy started to do as Techno instructed, but as time went on, something in him changed, going from a grunting face and not caring if he poured too much water, to a more relaxed expression, softly moving the leaves aside so water wouldn’t get on them.
Techno didn’t notice this change at first since he was too focused on removing dead flowers and leaves, but when he looked up to check if the gremlin was doing ok, he stopped himself from talking when he noticed that Tommy was crouched down, holding a ladybug in his hands.
Techno smiled at the sight of his brother becoming calmer when in contact with nature, he was so cute…
Quickly snapping a picture and sliding his phone back in his pocket he walked up to him, kneeling as well. “What’cha looking at?”
Tommy didn’t bother looking at his brother, his eyes were fixated on the small bug, “A Ladybug… it has five spots… Does that mean it’s five years old?” Techno softly chuckled, “No, that’s a common misconception Tommy, the spots are to warn predators that they don’t taste good, a self-defense mechanism” Tommy looked up at Techno and back to the ladybug, “But why five?” the older brother spotted another one of the small creatures, he waited for it to walk on his finger and held it close to Tommy’s one, “It represents which species it is, look- they both have five spots, meaning they come from the same category” Tommy added nothing, too absorbed into admiring the small bug pacing around the palm of his hand, instead, Techno placed his one back on the plant, snipping away a molded leaf, “Farmers believe that if they find a ladybug with less than seven spots means that they’ll have a good harvest, the contrary if it has more than seven, it’s only a folk legend though” Tommy decided to follow suit and moved his hand closer to the plan, allowing the small red and black insect to go back on the plant it came from.
“C’mon, your watering can’s empty, let’s go fill it up” The blonde boy smiled and nodded, grabbing the empty plastic container and following his older brother, looking at the variety of flowers and plants the greenhouse sheltered.
The rest of the time spent tending to the plants was calm and relaxing, nature really changed Tommy since he didn’t say once that he was bored or he never tried to start an argument, he looked at peace watering the small plants, kneeling to smell the flowers and making sure they weren’t diseased.
“Do you want to cut off the brown leaves? You look like you want to look at the plants a bit closer, I can water the rest” Tommy was surprised when Techno held in front of him the pair of scissors, he hesitated for a second, making sure that his brother was confident in his decision, but all he got from Techno was a soft smile.
Tommy remained in this unusual state all the way back home, let’s say that this moment of… “peace” was ruined when Wilbur came home and showed Tommy the picture Techno took of him behind his back.
#technoblade#tommyinnit#wilbur soot#ph1lza#fd!au#fd au#fanfiction#my fanfiction#writing#my writing#mcyt#sleepyboisinc
122 notes
·
View notes
Text
Birds and Breadcrumbs
Emily Prentiss X Reader
Summary: After a not-so-good coming out you move to Virginia in search of new friends, and maybe a new girlfriend
Word Count: 1247
Category: Fluff
Content Warnings: homophobia
A/N: requested by someone on tiktok! also my first emily fic :)
Moving to Virginia in your mid-twenties had never been a part of your plans. But when you came out to all of your best friends that you’ve had since basically birth didn’t react well, it was time to move on. What made it worse was your girlfriend who was in said group of friends, who had decided that they were more important. She told them that all of those side glances and accidental kisses in front of them were you trying to get in her pants.
So what were you going to do?
You were going to go to the park. It was right in between your house and work, being the barista at a local coffee shop, plus you could possibly meet some new friends to help you get situated in the new neighborhood.
You secretly hoped it would be the goth-ish girl you saw sitting on the park bench.
The first time you saw her she was sitting on a red bench, engraved with the name of the park on the back. She was wearing casual clothing, jeans and a red tank top. What didn’t look casual was the gun on her belt. It took you a moment to realize you had actually stopped walking because she had taken your gaze. You hoped she hadn’t realized and you continued walking. When you looked back she was on the phone, so you practically ran to work to save yourself the embarrassment.
The next time you saw her at the park you were working a late shift, and on your way you saw her walking with a blonde woman. They were both holding cups of coffee. If only you had been five minutes early to decipher who the blonde was. Then there would be no way for your self-doubt and anxiety to take over your mind. Was she her girlfriend? Did she even like girls?
All of your questions were answered on a Thursday morning.
She was sitting on a different bench this time. This one was in front of a small creek. Ducks littered the body of water. Signs sporadically surrounded the creek, reminding visitors to not feed bread to the wildlife of the small lake.
Despite this, the dark haired woman had what looked like a small loaf of the restricted gluten in her lap.
Hey, you still had time before work, right?
You sat next to her, hoping some conversation starter might come to mind. The contrast between her dark clothing and your lightly colored sweater almost made you chuckle.
“So what’s with the bread? Can’t feed it to the ducks.” You managed to squeak out.
Almost as if on command, a swarm of black birds surrounded her at her feet.
“They just seem to like me. I’m not sure why.” She lowered down to the birds and broke off a piece of the loaf. “I’m Emily. And you are?”
“Y/N,” You said, extending a hand to shake.
The feeling of her hands lingered on yours. They were soft and you could swear you smelled her cocoa butter moisturizer just from the touch.
“I’ve seen you around here a couple times. Are you new here?” She continued to pick pieces apart from the bread.
“Yeah, I moved here a couple weeks ago.”
“What was the occasion? I’m pretty sure you’re not a college student and no one just decides to move to Virginia.” She tossed the last chunk of bread to the birds in front of her.
“Let’s just say I need new contacts in my phone. The ones I have proved to be pretty shitty.” You sighed.
“I get that. Well, now that the birds are fed I've got to head to work. It was nice meeting you. Maybe if we meet again I’ll show you around.”
“That’d be nice. I should probably head to work too.”
Emily got up from the bench and started walking the same direction as the coffee shop. You followed behind her and chuckled.
“This is so awkward, I hate when this happens.”
“It’s whatever. Now I have more time to pester you with questions.” Emily laughed. “So, where do you work?”
“Just a small coffee shop. Only place that would hire me.” You chuckled.
“No way! That’s where I go for coffee every day. How have I never seen you there?”
“I’m not sure, but you’ll see me there today.” You said as you rushed ahead towards the coffee shop to set up before Emily got there.
You served Emily like you would any other customer. She took the cup graciously and you cherished the feeling of her soft hands that brushed against yours. You gave her a wink and hoped she noticed the kiss mark on the side of the cup that pointed to your phone number scrawled under the sleeve of it.
Sure enough, that Saturday morning you got a text from an unknown number.
Unknown - hey, this is Emily. from the park.
You immediately saved her into your phone under the name Birdie.
You - hey! good to see you got my message.
Birdie - yeah, the girls at work certainly had a field day with it lmao
You - where do you work? I mean, you’re probably gonna see me at work every day now, might as well tell me what you do.
Birdie - well, I’m a profiler for the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI.
You - woah, must be tough work huh
Birdie - it’s alright. I remember you mentioning something about needing a look at all of the local attractions? when are you free next?
You - i’m free right now
Birdie - great. meet me at your work in an hour
The two of you met up and drank coffee at the window seat at your coffee shop. You tried to pry the plan for the day out of the dark haired woman but she wouldn’t give.
You spent the day all over the city, going from thrift store to thrift store and book store to book store. Everything about it made your heart warm and the feeling it gave you was content. You could live every other day of your life like this.
You ended the day with a walk through the park you met at. It was on the way to your house and Emily insisted on taking you home.
“Hey, there are fireflies all around the lake. That never happens!” Emily looked behind you and pointed.
Taking the opportunity, you ran towards the body of water and dropped your bags on the bench. “Well come on! If this never happens, let’s catch some!”
You took off your jacket and jumped into the water, clasping your hands around what you hoped would be one of the small, bright bugs. You heard Emily laughing behind you and she dropped her own bags on the bench before she stepped in behind you. Walking through the clear water, she slipped forward, knocking both of you down.
You both stood up together, Emily propping you up with a hand on your hip. Her other hand traveled up to your face as your giggles subsided, and both of you leaned in, pressing your lips together.
She tasted of the coffee you had shared that morning and a distant aftertaste of cigarettes. She felt like a warm campfire that dried the wetness of your heart. When she pulled away almost leaned back in for a second kiss.
“So, are you gonna be up for this again, Y/N?”
“Absolutely.”
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#paget brewster#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss x reader fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fluff#birds and breadcrumbs#lgbt#fanfiction#fanfic#fic
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
cloudtail’s daughter: cinderheart
alright well third character: cinderheart.
i'm going to be honest, i don't care enough about cinderheart to have a lot to say about this. i'm finishing it in the morning, and i'm starting it in night, so watch this be longer than dovewing's (fat chance i wrote like 4k words about dovewing because, and i can't say this enough, i lovewing dovewing), but i'm not feeling particularly inspired at the moment.
ohhh wait i changed my mind this is the one where i get to talk about cinderpelt again, isn't it? yeessss i take it all back i've been waiting to write this since i first wrote cinder back in dovewing's character
anyway as per usual, this is part of an au where dovekit and ivykit are born to brightheart and cloudtail. go ahead and click the cloudtail's daughter tag if you want to see more about this. this is probably pretty dependent on knowing what happens to dovewing in the au, but i'd say compared to lionblaze, its still more self standing because it's significantly more verbose, so it's not reliant on filling in the gaps as much, because this is filling in the gaps.
[3k words, 10 minute read. section headers. a little bit jumpy.]
section one: cinderpelt and cinderkit --- an exposé on reincarnation
you don't need me to tell you warriors reincarnation is weird. to make my life easy, here is how it works:
true reincarnations -- jay's wing/jayfeather, dove's wing/dovewing, lion's roar/lionblaze. only one soul exists. half moon will reunite with jayfeather. or ig he can decide to go by jay's wing. dovewing and lionblaze may or may not regain their memories on death; it's not important to this story so i'm not decided
starclan induced reincarnations -- cinderpelt's soul gets shoved into cinderkit. they now share. this was, ah, very dangerous, because cinderkit and/or cinderkit's soul could have died. but she didn't. as cinderkit grows into her own person, she and cinderpelt will grow either increasingly intertwined (i.e., cinderpelt weaves into cinderheart, and is never fully awakened.) when they die, idk what happens. it's not very nice.
luckily, that didn't happen. instead, cinderheart grows apart and cinderpelt basically is a voice in her head. eventually, at some point, idk, cinderpelt frees herself. i'm sure i'll figure that out in this post, but i don't know yet.
so that's their deal.
section two: cinderheart and lionblaze
alright, cinderheart and lionblaze are not going to be a conflict thing, because of destiny. i'm just, that's. well it's a step up from the standard romance drama, but i still hated it. so anyway, cinderheart knows lionblaze is in L-O-V-E with her, but she's kind of holding out until he's more mature/responsible.
she's also not ready for kits, and that's the only way a warriors romance can be officially codified.
jk, but in seriousness, they're already close, similar to sandstorm and fireheart in books 2-4 or so of TPB. she's just not ready to take him as a mate yet, and he's kind of funny as a bumbling fool. that said, she does care a lot about him and if he pushed her, or circumstances pushed her, she'd be willing to be upfront about it.
cinderpelt is happy cinderheart is finding love, but she does kind of wish it wasn't with lionblaze. not because he's an idiot, after all, cinderpelt had a crush on fireheart before he finished growing a brain, but because she is worried about the prophecy. and lionblaze dying and leaving cinderheart alone. so cinderheart has some internal conflict about this, but she has internal conflict over whether she wants thrush or mouse some days. side effect of having two souls in one body. she keeps it wrapped up because she's pretty sure she's into lionblaze and cinderpelt is unsure, and she doesn't need to confuse the situation anymore.
yeah, by the time this series begins, cinderheart and cinderpelt are really two separate entities, and cinderpelt is getting ready to leave. she's just sort of waiting. it's until cinderheart and lionblaze confirm they're mates. why? because that's when it happens in the original and i can't think of a better time. also, it kind of completes cinderpelt's small crush on fireheart.
(it really wasn't that big. sandstorm just made a big deal out of it because she was jealous.)
section three: dovepaw
right, so cinderheart is hype for dovepaw. the dovepaw is real sweet and quiet and cinderheart feels good about that. so they're excited.
cinderheart and dovepaw go out for territory and cinderheart is like "she's on top of shit this dovepaw" and dovepaw catches a mouse or two and cinderheart is super proud and supportive and everyone is happy.
and then cinderheart starts to feel like she's failing dovepaw, because dovepaw just can't get anything else down. lionblaze and ivypaw, on the other hand, are having basically no issues. so she feels like she's failing dovepaw, and she's a little insecure about that, so cinderheart and dovepaw tag along with lionblaze and ivypaw a lot.
as you can guess, this makes everything worse.
cinderheart realizes dovepaw is sneaking out at night and is like "well this is a problem i'm not equipped to deal with" and frets over it for a while, unsure of who to talk to without geting dovepaw in trouble. (lionblaze also snuck out as an apprentice, he's an unreliable source.)
so she doesn't tell anyone at first, just makes sure dovepaw is still getting sufficient rest for a young cat. (she isn't.) eventually, she lets it slip to hollyleaf who talks about it with lionblaze who ivypaw overhears, but ivypaw is the last character i'm covering in this set of essays.
dovepaw gets trapped in the tunnels for three days, and cinderheart feels like she's failed her charge. also, brightheart is kind of mad at cinderheart because she feels that cinderheart didn't really do anything to stop dovepaw from feeling like she needed to prove herself and like, brightheart's not wrong, but it's also unfair to cinderheart. so cinderheart blames herself a whole lot because dovepaw is dead now and it's her fault.
when dovepaw gets back cinderheart only barely punishes her, and dovepaw has had enough exploration, so being confined to camp is only barely a punishment anyway. cinderheart vows that she's going to do better, do right, by dovepaw (although she's really been doing pretty okay no one is really blaming cinderheart, even brightheart has gotten over it now that dovepaw is back and safe and alive.)
section four: can you hear what i hear?
so when dovepaw gets back, cinderheart takes her out once she's recovered, and dovepaw is like "so where are the creatures with the clicky-clackies?" and cinderheart has no idea what's going on.
but cinderheart, despite being lumped in the "two braincells" category that the first three pov characters have (seriously if you haven't read my breakdown of this au as a whole you may want to because i've written so much for it that i'm definitely skipping details. now that my pace has slowed from "about 10k words in one weekend" to "2k words a day" it's better but still), is not an idiot. she's seen the lake get smaller. times are getting hard. there was a gathering while dovepaw was in the tunnels that cinderheart went to and it was real rough. so she's like. hm. maybe. dovepaw is starclan chosen or something? it would explain why she's spacy all the time.
cinderheart gets all the info she can from dovepaw and then has to figure out whether she's taking this to firestar or jayfeather.
i'm not 100% how this resolves, but eventually, cinderheart and dovepaw go to firestar to discuss the beavers. cinderheart does most of the talking, dovepaw is just kind of there nodding along.
so the standard canon thing happens and they all get ready for the trip. i feel like i've done a pretty in-depth breakdown of this for dovewing, and hollyleaf will get one too, so i'm just going to say, other than hollyleaf also coming, it's pretty much canon.
section five: the tribe
oh man it's the cinderheart book and whoo boy am i excited for this one.
alright alright alright so dovepaw is doing the Late Nights again, but its to see tigerheart. so cinderheart is uh, not very aware of it this time?
dovepaw is older and smarter (barely) and more importantly knows she can’t get caught again.
so dovepaw real tired, real close to tigerheart at gatherings, and cinderheart is like “hm maybe something is up” and cinderpelt is like “yeah keep an eye on that”
(an aside: so cinderpelt’s presence is kind of a nagging one in cinderheart’s life. it’s not that she’s not the same cinderpelt we know and love, but she’s a kind of omnipresent authority figure, so she reads a bit differently. but she’s still our wonderful cinderpelt. no fear.)
and ivypaw tells lionblaze that dovepaw is sneaking out (see here for lionblaze, literally 0 awareness) and he tells cinderheart and cinderheart is like “well that checks” and cinderpelt is like “hm remember fernpaw and dustpelt”
“ferncloud is like a second mother to me no i don’t know the details of her romance”
“yea well...”
you know, cinderheart's almost worried dovepaw is going to have kits real soon after becoming a warrior and there are approximately 0 thunderclan toms she's close enough with for that to be applicable.
(for the record, they are not that close. cinderpelt is concerned not just because forbidden romance, but also because of how young leafpool was. not impossibly young by any means, but still fairly young.)
so then through uhhh who knows memory? convenient stormfur is convenient? haven't decided yet, but anyway, cinderheart decides the tribe can help them. (the real reason is because i want the tribe to solve a clan problem for once. the stated reason is probably something like "dovepaw feels too much pressure after the beavers" or "long journeys are good for apprentices" i mean look brambestar dgaf about where warriors are going so why should i?)
lionblaze and ivypaw come along and cinderheart is like "great i just told this guy that i don't want to change anything between us until i'm done mentoring dovepaw and now he's tagging along with this? where's a hollyleaf when you need her?"
(hollyleaf is living with her ghost boyfriend, cinderheart, she is no longer a reliable source of buffering between you and lionblaze. also, cinderheart, this isn't coming up in this au because again ending in step with canon but please consider: lesbians.)
anyway, the four of them set out and dovepaw and ivypaw still aren't talking which is getting really old, really fast.
eventually, after a day or two of travelling in basically silence, ivypaw and dovepaw do start to talk again. one goal down. (my conviction that travelling books are good, actually, remains untested, but i'm determined to prove it.)
okay, so i've been reading all my notes in detail as i start actually drafting this, which means my essay content is morphing further into writing notes. you can tell because i'm skipping bigger sections, or adding notes about purpose in story, etc. this is just a warning that since i last worked on this, i've actually begun writing the book this stuff takes place in (the first book only matters if you're dovekit or ivykit, so the fact that i'm writing it doesn't really have an effect. i just wanted to start with something low-stakes.) so like, on one hand, i should have more figured out, but on the other hand, my comments are going to be a lot looser and i wouldn't be surprised if i just straight up contradict something i already said (i do edit my posts but not heavily and only if i think they're something i'm going to point people back towards. i'd rather point people to my archive once i start posting, so.) anyway, this is just a warning for this and anything else in the CTD essay series (hollyleaf, jayfeather, ivypool, as well as the books, growing shadows, fading echoes, distant whispers, and whatever the canon names are but switch book 4 and 5), that it's going to be less "here's a summary of what i'm going to do" and more "here are my thoughts about what i'm doing"
right that note aside, the travelling party makes it to the mountains. there's drama, probably? none of them have been to the mountains IIRC? i know jayfeather has but i don't think the others went with him (bramble did? hm i'll have to research) but okay so the point is, they make it to the tribe as the mountain is getting colder and this is where i have to deviate from my trend of realism the most because they're going to stay on the tribe for much longer than they should. my timeline has ivy/dove born in leafbare at the beginning of the season (easier math), so this is early-mid leaf fall, and the mountain would be unpassable really soon. but i don't want that, so we're going to pretend they have 2-3 moons before it's truly impassable, or the story flows a lot worse because i really want the drought to be in green leaf because it just sets up a hard hitting winter which is a good tension/drama fodder machine.
unfortunately, i'm limited in who i can kill off, but what can you do?
right so anyway, they're in the tribe and cinderheart present dovepaw and stoneteller is like "huh ig this could work sure why not" and dovepaw is enlisted to be a tribe to-be. she's not given an offiical whatever the tribe word for mentor is, (does the tribe have individual mentors? i can't remember off the top of my head), but she's more or less the same as any othet tribe to-be. the fact that she's so fluffy is a bonus. keeps her warm.
cinderheart is less at-home in the tribe, but she works with the prey hunters and generally gets along. i'm not sure. maybe she makes friends? (this is literally her book she definitely does interesting things i just don't know who lives in the tribe off the top of my head. her life does not revolve around dovepaw like 100%. she has to sort out some cinderpelt stuff in this book it's just very internal and i'm not entirely sure how it goes yet.)
so cinderheart and dovepaw are doing their thing for a bit. they get a good chance to explore tribe culture. it's good. everything is good. cinderheart is still definitely mentoring dovepaw, but what that means right now is a lot of modeling how to be a good learner, rather than explicitly teaching. cinderheart herself is preparing and thinking about how to transfer these skills to thunderclan.
uh yeah so anyway it's getting close to winter so they gotta head out, and the tribe is like "off u go food is tight in leafbare/whatever-they-call-winter" and the four of them set out.
okay so i'm going to skip to cinderheart's second book, because honestly, arc one narrators all get thrown in BGCH until they're needed in arc 2. (i mean, tbf, jayfeather has done literally nothing in all of arc one. nothing. he's just there, occasionally being like "no firestar, don't make dovepaw my apprentice!" and that's pretty much it.)
and basically so while jayfeather and hollyleaf are off having ghost romances (that's the entire plot of their book it's ghost romance), cinderheart and lionblaze are just having a relationship. dovewing and ivypool are warriors now, so cinderheart does have background drama of being worried because dovewing is still seeing tigerheart ("we took her on a whole mountain vacation and she's still obsessed with him?"), but like, it's very chill for a while.
and then sol comes back.
oh man, sol comes back and it's gonna be a big deal. yeah. it's a big deal for cinderheart, and hopefully this will be an interesting section, because cinderheart is a very different character from the OG oots crew, and she's going to handle problems in a different way, and this is the first chance we get to see that. the beavers don't count she was j chilling with whatever dovepaw said and the tribe is certainly a good example of her character (caring, resourceful, outside the box), but that's the set up. sol is the pay off.
so cinderheart is pleased by sol, but also generally wary. you gotta remember, cinderheart has been on a lot of extra curricular field trips. she's met a lot of cats. (note to self: include more loners.) she's a quick judge of character. and sol, you know, he's a lot.
so she keeps an eye on him, and she expresses her concern to hollyleaf, and hollyleaf is like, yeah, sure, i'll help.
so hollyleaf is like "so by the way, sol is in the tunnels." and cinderheart is like "this is going to be a problem" and cinderpelt who is now in starclan is like "oh she's finally learning."
so i'm not entirely sure on the details here because i haven't plotted out the ending three books in nearly as much detail (i mean on the blog i have but in my head where i keep all the plot lines i haven't) but cinderheart is going to solve the problem and she'll do it in a different way.
thunderclan definitely still learns to fight in the tunnels because they need to for battle purposes. (oh, to be a windclan tunnler, looking down in sadness from starclan about what my clan has lost.)
and yeah leaving cinderheart here because she retreats to BGCH after completing her duty of being a meanful character.
cinderheart? done.
#lionblaze#dovewing#ivypool#hollyleaf#cinderheart#cloudtail's daughter#mine#q#txt#27th#February#2021#February 27th 2021#essay#long#lovewing dovewing#not really but also yes#28th#February 28th 2021
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thoughts on Love, Victor Season 1
PSA: If you think that you might be gay, don’t get a girl emotionally invested! Please!
Ya know, at first when I thought about what I was going to write about this show, I thought that I should split the writings into the first half/last half of the show. Now I’m thinking “screw it”, if only because if I was going to go that route I should have stopped, parsed through my feelings about the first 5 episodes, and written those thoughts before proceeding with the next half. That, of course, did not happen, so to prevent the back half of the season’s events from miring the first half, I’ll just write about the whole shebang. There’s probably a joke about that word somewhere, I’ll try not to make it.
Anyways, let’s start by saying that on the whole, I really liked this show. It was not as good as Sex Education season 1, yet in my opinion waaaay better than HSMTMTS season 1. Most of the characters were likable and felt developed enough, it moved at a nice pace, and you can tell that a lot of heart went into this. Perhaps because we all watched this in a day, it felt like a 5 hour movie rather than a 10 episode tv show.
Additionally, I of course like the Latinx representation. The intersectionality of the Latinx community and the LGBTQ+ community has been presented on at least five TV shows to my knowledge: Ugly Betty, One Day at a Time, Diary of a Future President, The Baker and the Beauty, and now Love, Victor. Let’s keep it up!
As for the premise of the show itself, I *love* that this show acknowledges that Simon’s journey, at least at his house, was leaps and bounds easier than many other people’s. Victor’s parents are more conservative and religious, and they don’t have their shit together, so this is not the best environment to drop that bombshell in (which is why it was so incredible when Victor decides to do it anyway). Simon and Victor’s DM’s being a framing device for the show was a great way to tie the universe together.
The hook of Love, Simon was that you know all those cheesy and cliche rom-coms that straight people have gotten since the dawn of time? Well LGBT people deserve those stories too! Love, Victor is sort of presented with that same thesis in mind, which is why watching these episodes felt like different things I’ve seen before all over. The whole season ironically feels like Alex Strangelove: The TV Show, right down to the often cringy relationship with the girl, the openly gay love interest who conflicts our protagonist, and the goofball friend who chases after a girl who is seemingly out of his league.
Mia’s character felt a lot like Laila from All-American, being a black girl who is ordained as the hottest girl at school (which I feel like is a title only given in fictional schools), who also has a missing mother and problems with her rich dad. Pilar, on the other hand, feels like Casey from Atypical, in that she is openly rebellious in large part because of her mother’s infidelity.
Victor’s story this season sure was something to watch. The biggest question for me was, just how much sympathy should he be given? The world is inherently unfair to Victor. None of us should have to go through the agony and anxiety that so often comes with being in the closet and coming out. But for Victor to have visited those problems on Mia, who is going through things herself? That makes him pretty morally gray.
But he was still finding himself! But he loves Mia, just not like that! I get it, which is why he should have cut things off as soon as he got back from New York, no he should have cut things off when she asked him if there was “anything else” in her bedroom, no he should have cut things off when he literally felt like he and Benji were the only two people in the room at the concert, no he really shouldn’t have done this to begin with.
The line between Victor finding himself and him deceiving Mia is the conflict of the show, but the moment for me when I was like “Damn, Victor” was after he intentionally derailed Mia’s shebang-ing that she planned, he found the gall to lie to Benji and plan a seduction! That is why the season finale was so glorious. Because yes, while the world is unfair to Victor, he’s being unfair to the people around him.
I have made it a point not to read other people’s opinions extensively so as not to bias my own thoughts, but is Felix everybody else’s favorite? Felix’s character and arc was great. He was a supportive friend yet still felt like he had a story and stakes of his own, something which some TV shows get right (Sex Ed) and some TV shows get various shades of wrong (Jamie Johnson, Andi Mack). I like that he knew his worth and cut things off with Lake, and I like that she realized that her happiness with him should take priority over what others think of her.
I was soooo sympathetic to Mia. Her world is being turned upside down at home. Clearly, she has not even processed her mother being out of her life, and now her Dad is “replacing” her Mom while the baby is also “replacing” her! In Mia’s eyes, at least. Mia just needs to know that she is loved and appreciated. Which she *thought* of all people she’d be able to get from her boyfriend. Shucks.
As for the rest of Victor’s family, I also thought the parents’ storyline was pretty interesting yet unfortunate. Armando just can’t come around to trusting Isabel, which I actually kind of understand. Isabel, meanwhile, is being prevented from doing the thing she loves to do, which sucks especially because she’s in a radically new environment. Adrian is of course great, protect him at all costs. Pilar’s seemingly permanent mode of “angsty” is completely justified, as her friends back in TX are moving on just fine without her, she’s having trouble opening up and fitting in, and her family is WYLIN.
Some things that didn’t go so well for me was Andrew’s character, who feels like he’s just there to obstruct at any given moment. Y'all knew that when Victor and Benji were having that convo in the bathroom, someone was in the stall and someone was Andrew. Also, my guy, how are you not even somewhat aware that you are a total douchecanoe? I liked Benji, but Venji didn’t quite work for me because of all of the cheatation that it took to get there. Benji was pissed and ready to stay away from Victor permanently after the [attempted seduction], but once his relationship was over he was completely fine with putting his tongue down Mia’s boyfriend’s throat.
Overall, I really enjoyed this show. Some of these teen dramas I’m admittedly only watching for the LGBT content, so to have that be at the forefront of a show for once was amazing. The conflict was realistic if frustrating, and to me most of the characters seemed fully realized. Thankfully, the show didn’t even feel too “spin-offy” even with Nick Robinson being all over it.
In any given multi-season serialized show, the trajectory of the show goes one of two ways: the first season puts your feet on the ground of the series, and then later seasons go above and beyond with the storytelling (The Office, Breaking Bad, Bojack Horseman, Jamie Johnson) OR the first season is pretty great TV, and the following seasons fail to live up to its glory (The Good Place, Dear White People, really most every Netflix show ever). Which category Love, Victor ends up in is something to look forward to. Where do we go from here now that Victor is taking his first steps out of the closet?
Stray thoughts from the episodes:
The soundtrack on the whole, was not my cup of tea. I still liked a couple of songs, so that means somebody out there liked more of them.
I completely forgot Natasha Rothwell was in Love, Simon. More of her! More of Ali Wong! More of Beth Littleford! They were all great.
So Roger got his ass beat by Armando, and he still wants to get back with her?? Roger is reckless, man.
Speaking of reckless, Victor’s closet skills completely fell apart towards the end there. Assume somebody’s always watching!
Lake’s mother is a trip.
Good for the family for standing up to the grandparents.
Oh my god, Simon and Bram. Those guys are mine, and now they’re growing up and moving to the Big Gay City. They’ve come a long way.
Speaking of the Big Gay City, we were in Atlanta for a season and got *0* acknowledgement of the vibrant gay community there. More things to look forward to.
Was anybody else singing Selena along with Isabel? That is my favorite Selena song!
By rule of Felix being a male and Pilar being a female close in age, I immediately thought they were going to be a thing. The writers didn’t pull that thread too much...
That moment at the end there when we all thought Victor was going to hold off on his announcement only for him to go “fuck it” and say it anyways? And then he got to exhale? Perfect. chef’s kiss
What with June being Pride month, the SCOTUS ruling a couple of days ago, this entire show premiering today, and Delliot things going down in less than 24 hours, this will likely be the gayest week of the year. I suggest we all enjoy it.
Stay Peachy!
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Last Dragon
At five in the morning in the early spring night, the world was still steeped in deep darkness. The few stars that were visible through Chicago’s light pollution shined in the clear velvet sky. The winds coming off the lake Erie were fierce and screamed and thundered in between the buildings, rattling the bare branches of the tall trees.
All the buildings on the campus were dark save the Gear Department equipment warehouse. The large garage door was open and shining bright like an illuminated cave.
Brian strode inside. The wind tugged at his scarf, whipping it horizontal from his neck. The lifted garage door shook in its tracks as he passed under it.
The cold winter nights gave way to warmth in the well-heated expansive space. Mr. Baldwin stood, his coat draped over his arm, looking up at what seemed to be a half built elongated fighter jet. Its wings were short and it was tilted up vertically like a rocket. Technicians in white coats were looking up at it and checking their clipboards, others were bent over computer screens, pointing at them.
Brian yawned. “Is this what we’re training in? Doesn’t look very airworthy…”
“You know the gear department. They’ll have it ‘airworthy’ within the week. So yes, training starts now. I appreciate that you’ve finally chosen to wear your uniform.” The stoic head of the Executive Department looked him up and down. His dark brown hair was well combed and expertly clipped and he was still in his professional suit even this early. Brian wondered if the man was just a vampire who never slept at night.
“Of course. This is serious. It’s not like I’m herding college students to class any more.” The official executive department uniform took after that of the Royal Navy. A light blue button down shirt, black tie, and belted black slacks. On his chest was the crest of the half-wilted Yggdrasil of Cassell College.
Mr. Baldwin tilted his head slightly. “Are you saying the work was beneath you?”
“No, sir.” Brian replied. “The work was beneath the uniform.”
That coaxed a smile out of him. “The vessel needed reinforcing. We sent out a scout plane to the coordinates and found an area of disturbed weather. It appears that this atmospheric anomaly will continue to intensify in the coming days.” Mr. Baldwin folded his arms, eyes fixed on the rocket-like plane.
“Can’t we just wait it out?” Brian asked.
Mr. Baldwin huffed and lowered his eyes. “I said the same thing. But the Vice Chancellor insisted that we reinforce the ship. Something that could withstand the winds of something far beyond the eyewall of a category 5 hurricane.”
Brian’s eyes widened slightly. “Is there such a material?”
“Not naturally. We’ve resorted to alchemy.”
Brian gave a low appreciative whistle. “So he thinks we’ll encounter something like that?”
Mr. Baldwin took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I should say this. I trust you’re level-headed enough to handle this information. Every time I brought out some observation from the field, the Vice Chancellor would insist on preparing for something ten times that.”
Brian nodded and an uneasy silence fell between them.
More students walked in, at least two dozen of them. They were a rowdy bunch happily chattering and openly admiring the towering air vessel. The sight of it filled them with excitement. Mr. Baldwin smiled. He wasn’t old enough to remember the day when the Execution Department of Cassell was nearly obliterated in Tibet. He knew about it because it was his business to know about it.
They’d just now gotten their feet under them and here they were, back into the fray. Only Brian seemed to have a clue about the danger they were in. He wasn’t sure how, but it was nice to have at least one student here he could share the truth with.
Brian kept his knowledge to himself, joining the group and quietly fist bumping his colleagues. He stood among them as they lined up in front.
Mr. Baldwin cleared his throat. “This week we received a missive from the Chancellor and we held a meeting. We have what we believe in the first sign of the Lord of Sky and Wind that we’ve seen since the first fall of the Four Lords, a first generation awakening that will be the last one.”
The students roared with applause and Mr. Baldwin let them have it. “Naturally your classes are canceled until further notice. You’ll report here every day for your aerospace training.”
“Hey is the S-Ranker not coming?” The question came from the back, from Shimoda Masato, an exchange student from the Japan branch. Brian wasn’t very familiar to him other than the fact that he had a habit of speaking up sharply and stating the obvious that others were too deferential to bring up. At time that made him an asset, at times that made him a thorn in everyone’s side.
But Masato never wilted under the gaze of the crowd or his superiors when he felt he had a valid point. HIs eyes stared straight at Mr. Baldwin.
“The students were handpicked by the Vice Chancellor and I.”
“So she’s S-ranked, but not good enough for this mission?”
“Student assessments are classified.” Baldwin turned away to wave over the technicians who were bringing over the flight suits.
Brian tried to avoid eye contact with the student next to him who was glancing over. But he dug his elbow in his side and whispered. “Hey, you’re kinda close to Ru’Yi, is she okay?”
“She’s fine.” Brian grumbled.
“Then why isn’t she here?”
“I trust the decision of the Execs.”
“Is it ‘cause she’s unstable?”
Brian felt his hackles rise and he pinned his fellow student with a sharp glare.
“I… I mean like mentally… She seems kinda… erratic.”
Brian refused to respond to that, he placed his hands behind his back and stared straight forward, clasping his hands tightly.
“I mean, you would know right? Aren’t you two…?”
“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” Mr. Baldwin stared at the other student, cowing him into silence.
Brian suppressed a sigh of relief.
“I’ll have Engineer Robinson explain the details.”
A svelte young woman approached with long ebony hair. “These flight suits are custom manufactured for this mission. The interior lining is made your typical cut proof fabric, but we also have an exterior lining for warmth at high altitudes. IT is not cut proof but is made from a special self healing fabric.” She pulled out a sharp knife and demonstrated on a piece of cloth, cutting it easily in two, then she pressed the edges together and the cut was healed, just as if someone were sticking together two pieces of clay.
“We’ll also be outfitting you with flight helmets, oxygen supplies, emergency oxygen supplies and parachutes, flares and locating beacons in case of emergencies. You will be trained in the use of all of the functions of this suit”
The students started murmuring to themselves. Mr. Baldwin cast his eyes on all of them. While some still maintained the eager enthusiasm, the smiles were gone from others.
Finally one raised his voice: “Are we going to be fighting this dragon in mid-air?”
-------------
Tom dug his claws into the spiny bark of the coconut tree. The hot afternoon sun burned into his back and he squinted into the light of the sun. Just a few more feet and he would arrive at the succulent green fruit at the very top. Far below, Mr. Lu waited for him.
This island was so flat, that this high up on the tree, he had a complete panoramic view of the entire island shore. It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight. Bright blue waves under a bright blue sky, with puffy clouds here and there. A ring of golden sand, dark volcanic rock and patches of green tropical plantlife.
A sudden gust of wind made him dig his claws. The wing extensions coming out of his hands were like kites. If they opened just a little bit, he would pull the rocking trunk even further. He pressed himself to the wood and closed his eyes until the wind let up.
“Hey! We don’t have all day!” Mr. Lu shouted at him from far below.
This whole exercise was his idea. They’d been walking and looking for shells when Tom mentioned that he never knew that coconut palms could grow so tall. In fact, these were massive spires swaying a hundred feet overhead.
He focused on his surroundings, a sea of emerald green palm fronds and a cluster of light brown and green coconuts.
He gripped with his toe claws and carefully pulled one hand from the tree to retrieve his machete. He lifted it up started to hack at the connection between the coconut at the trunk. “Look out below!” He shouted.
The coconut dislodged and fell.
Tom made the mistake of looking down. He couldn’t even see the coconut hit the ground. The earth seemed to rush away from him in a swirling vertigo. He pressed his cheek against the trunk again.
“I got it!” Came Mr. Lu’s voice.
“Great…” Tom squeaked.
He reached up and started to hack at the coconuts again, shouting a warning each time one fell to the ground.
On his fifth coconut Something fell. It wasn’t out of the ordinary. Each strike sent dead brown leaves and other woody debris onto his head.
But this had a decidedly different weight and as soon as it landed, it moved, pressing little feet on the back of his neck, over his shoulder and his chest. Tom frantically batted at this red colored hairy tarantula about 3 inches long.
“Get off me! Get off me!” Tom’s world suddenly tilted. The wind pushed at him, rushing into the space between his body and the tree trunk and catching the leathery wing folds under his arms. They billowed out like sails and pulled hard. The tree bent forward as Tom clung to it. His claws scored the bark in a desperate bid to stay on the tree, but the wind suddenly gusted and he was torn from it. The tree then snapped away from his searching fingers.
Eyes wide and world spinning, Tom plummeted. Instinctively, he reached for the ground to catch himself, but when he did so his arms were yanked back upwards with a terrible jerk and the ground fled away.
Panting with terror, he looked around as the trees were below him. At that moment, the steady tropical breeze was sending him in a steady rise into the sky. His wings were supporting him and he was scared to move them. If he folded them he would fall. But he kept rising.
“Help! Help!” The wind was sending him out over the island towards the ocean. Tom despaired wondering if he was doomed to soar out forever into the sea.
He’d looked at his wings before and wondered if he could fly. But he was too nervous to even try it. He assumed they wouldn’t work that way. Didn’t someone say that humans couldn’t fly? How was it that now that he was in the air, he didn’t know how to get down? How does one stop flying? The wind bounced him up and down in the shifting current, maintaining the lift of his arms. But as he got out to sea that lift started to diminish.
“Um… Um…”
“Lift your legs behind you.”
“What?!”
“Keep your gaze forward! Don’t look back!” Mr. Lu’s voice was commanding and slightly mocking.
“I can’t stop! I can’t…”
“You’re going to end up in the water, if you don’t do what I say. Lift your legs.”
Tom whimpered and did as he was instructed. The drag created by his legs vanished the moment he lifted him and he started to rise again. The water started to distance itself. He saw his own shadow, two wings and a long body, just like a dragon. And right behind his shadow, he saw another, far bigger shadow with wings that dwarfed his own.
Mr. Lu had wings? Since when?
“Now, can you see the shore? Look with your eyes.”
Just out of the corner of his vision the dark line of shoreline was still visible.
“Yeah…”
“Turn your head slightly in that direction. Your head is your rudder, you’ll go where you look.”
Tom turned his head to the shore and sure enough, he started to turn in a wide arc. His heartrate slowed as safety and security in the air grew. He wasn’t even moving his arms and yet the wind seemed to want to pick him up to carry him. He couldn’t fall if he wanted to.
He looked down again. The massive shadow was gone. He lowered his legs slowly and felt himself slow and start to descend looking for a soft patch of sand to land on.
The land grew closer and closer. He could feel himself shaking. His feet hit the ground, sending up a shower of sand in front of him and he fell to his knees and leaned on his hands, gasping. He swallowed hard and his mouth felt like sandpaper.
He did it. He actually flew. The reality dawned on him and he couldn’t help but smile a little and laugh. “Well… That happened.”
He flopped into the sand, not caring that it was going to stick to him and he would have to shower later. It was warm and soft and firm and let him rest while the thought of flying sank into his mind. It felt good.
“So. Still want to go back to being human?”
Tom scrambled to sit up. Mr. Lu was standing there, sipping from an open coconut.
“Is that what this is all about?”
“This’ as in ‘this just now’? Or ’This whole island’? Regardless, the answer to both of those questions is yes.”
“You made me climb trees all day just so I could fall off?”
Lu Mingfei just sipped his coconut milk and smiled.
“Where did your wings go?”
“What wings?”
“You were flying with me! Don’t play dumb!” Tom snapped.
Mr. Lu stared at him. “Answer my question first. Do you want to go back to being human?”
“I can’t go back… it doesn’t matter.” Tom looked at his hands. “I… won’t be able to play guitar like this. Flying is nice. It felt good for a bit. But you know… if anyone else saw me, they would probably try to shoot me.”
“I know. And the way you are now? You’d let them.”
Tom raised his eyes to look. Mingfei was staring at him, all amusement gone. Tom’s shoulders sagged. He shook his head. What was he supposed to feel. He raised his hand to look at his wings. Flying felt scary and exhilarating.
“You’re very important Tom. You just don’t realize it yet.” Lu Mingfei joined him on the sand, offering him the coconut.
“Can I tell you a story? You’re Japanese… right?” He squinted. “Well, never mind. Do you know what the Sengoku Jidai is?”
“Yes. It was the Japanese civil wars.”
“Exactly. They spent years and years in some of the most fierce and bloody battles in history. Thousands of people died. Weapons technology and battle tactics took a great leap forward.”
“By the time the flames died down, you had an entire society built on war. People were soldiers through and through. But now they couldn’t fight each other. So you know what they did?”
“Um… They attacked Korea.”
“Exactly. They didn’t just stop fighting when the Sengoku era came to a close. They just changed their enemies. So Tom, what do you think will happen to Cassell College once the last dragon falls?”
“The same thing? They’ll change their enemies?” Tom’s eyes widened slightly.
“Anjou was never truly concerned about that. Oh sure, he never tolerated Hybrid society’s constant drive for power in his own presence. He was single minded in his destruction of the four lords and the revenge of his friends. But he knew that once the last dragon was dead, Hybrids wouldn’t be content to live in human society. They already occupy the highest levels of wealth and power in many regions.”
“So what did he do?”
Lu Mingfei grinned at him. “Project Nibelungen. Designed byProfessor Franco. It fused advanced biotechnology and alchemical arts. Then it uses a serum refined from dragonblood to enhance a Hybrid’s potency. It allows them to transcend blood thresholds while maintaining consciousness.”
“I was the first one it was used on.”
Tom’s slack jawed stare made him chuckle. “Surprised? Yes, I was an unwitting guinea pig for his project. As well as… other projects. But it was an arms race, both against dragons and against other Hybrids. I wasn’t the only one seeking this same ability. I’m not the only one who has it.”
“Carli has taken a route taken by others. Getting the consent of the desperate and the dying, to complete what Anjou started… her motives are compassionate… and a bit naive. I want to tell you the truth though.”
He stood up and brushed himself off. “War is coming to Cassell.” He offered his hand and Tom took it.
“Am I going to have to fight?” Tom asked.
“That’s what we’re trying to avoid. Or at least put off. I can’t give you too many details. Things are still in motion. But we’ve made progress!” He gave him a slap on the back. “I’m in the mood for some… pina coladas…”
1 note
·
View note
Text
A/N: Yay, second chapter is up, and I wanna thank the wonderful @itsasumbrella, who she not only has great patience with me and I really don't deserve her, but because she's my beta for this story. Also, she has an amazing fic called "Wicked Game", if you know Spanish please I beg you; go read it!
ISOBEL
Summary: Grounded in a place she barely knows, stuck in a marriage she loathes. Astrid Hofferson has thought of her fate as the beginning of her end, a wheel starting to crush her life. But also on how she mustn’t completely accept it. AU. Hiccstrid.
CHAPTER 2
TWICE AT THE NECK
When she was a little girl, Astrid Hofferson nearly drowned in the springs of her village —she went unsupervised to the forest, no one ever knew of the event ‘til months later when Cami noted how much her sister was scared of water, she coaxed her one night to spill the truth but the child clumsily concocted a story; she was put in taught in the next weeks. Little Astrid ended up enjoying it, the very challenge itself of floating and not sank, and the test of her breath when under the water.
She wouldn't ever prospect that that’d help her swam out after jumping from almost twenty-five feet.
‘Fuck’ and with a pop in the k was the first noise reverbing from her. The cold of the water was too much to bear, and the sand kept getting between her toes, shoes apparently lost forever in the murky ocean.
Aside those problems, there were even more when she started rushing through that unknown land, there were no signs of any tribe or village, it was just green esplanades near and far and nothing else.
Has that taken away her exhilaration when she ran? No, no it didn’t, she’d never felt such adrenaline before, it was a reckless blending as one with the blood within her limbs.
However, Astrid has to admit she was scared, adding acutely aware.
When she thought she’d ran enough to be far from the shore, she ran some more, and when her feet begun to feel sore, she stopped under a treetop and leaned on its thick trunk. The trees in this land were tall and alive, unlike those in her village, and then she promptly realized too; none raid nor has violence ever touched the place, reason why maybe the water in that myriad of lagoons dispersed seemed so clear.
She had left her right foot rest on the boulder and inspected the sole if there was any more damage than the already open wounds and dry blood. Knowing she’ll only be attended by a healer if she finds a tiny but village at the least she unglues from the tree and went ahead in search for that source of life, birds’ chirps weren’t enough but they fill the silence comfortably.
“On we go” she breathes.
Since toddler, Astrid has relished in the action of walk, explore, she considers herself a highly active kind a person, and mostly because she mulls over when alone too, so whether or not the girl finished her chores she’d usually sneaked out of them and go strolling across her village or into the nature. There was no responsibility in doing that, but Astrid hated so much the work her aunt or other people assigned it at her. And not because she belittle them, but because she wasn’t meant for those chores.
Being a soon-to-be-wife of a barbarian didn’t fit in that category too.
She really hopes to rendezvous that village soon and convince any farmer with its life settled to adopt her.
Yeah, that’d be nice.
Just as nice when she finally come upon with one those lakes, the water it is clear and seeing the fishes swimming makes her stomach grumble in hungriness.
“I should have eaten.” she says pensive. Looking at her grime, trembling reflection.
“Yeah, you should have.”
A new face appears next to hers, Valthjof stares at her serious. She gasps his name.
“You followed me!” she hollered at him accusingly. And then felt rather dumbly, of course he would had.
He nodded. “I have to protect you.”
Astrid stares back at him innocently for a short but taut moment. “I didn’t get far enough, did I?” He shook his head.
Sighing heavily, she rose on her feet with eyes set on the few fishes. “I’m hungry.”
Valthjof nods again and stalks forward from her.
Astrid frowns at his back, quietly confused if she has to go after him or not.
Sensing her distress, he spins on his heels, watching her carefully. “We’ll fish, but none of this lake.”
“Why?” she asks, “Is something wrong with this one?” Astrid scowls. Does she really have to go further with him alone? Does she? Go with a man she recently met with? Is she overreacting? Valthjof is meant to shelter Cami and her from any harm, yes. ‘Give a chance to someone and let them prove it wrong’ she goes with that philosophy. She has to trust him. However, the bounce of his sword attached to his hip and his absurd height squirms her, and reminds her how easily he can tear her apart if he wishes, shove the flat side of his blade against her throat and forces himself into her. What if the Council lied about him? He’s a retired warrior, and a brave warrior dies with honor and blood spewing out of their mouth in battled field instead of retiring in cowardice. Why would they send a coward? Why would they risk foolishly? A war would inevitably unleash, and Brynhild it's terribly vulnerable nowadays, fuck, that’s strategy; the berkians’d win over them and conquer her home converting all the inhabitants into thralls.
“Trust issues?” He guesses.
“I barely know you.”
Valthjof seems to understand at her words. Scratching his nape, he says softly through thin lips; “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“So much for an assurance.” She bites back.
“What do you want, child?”
“I’ll query you if you don’t mind,” Astrid replies severe, “While you lead us.”
He nods, and stretches his palm at top of his chest. “I’ll answer truthfully.”
The girl, shivering and in bad fumes, balled a portion of her dress in fists and stepped before him.
He holds his hand up, “Wait. I’ll give you my boots.”
“What? No.”
“Yes, don’t worry. I’m wearing wool socks.”
He unties the cords stained with dirt and handed the shoes at Astrid, she puts them timid and thanking him.
He makes a noise of approve, adjacent clearing his throat; “Be concise with the questions, without subdue your curiosity. You may begin.”
Astrid mutedly agreed with his terms, and whilst wrapping her arms around herself, she thought of the hundreds of questions buzzing in her mind.
“Uh, ok.” She bits her bottom lip. “What happened in the ship after I jumped?”
“Your sister made it anchor there and then.”
“You’re the only one who got down?”
He nods.
“Where are we? Why’re there lots of lochs?”
Valthjof fixed at her with something near as astonishment glinting within his sunken eyes.
“I don’t know. I’m asking you precisely for that.”
“Pardon.”
“You’re not first.” Astrid mutters and its tone is like it left a resentful taste.
She shrugs after sighting his almost puzzled semblance, “You’d be surprised how much wedge there has been in my education and Cami’s”
“Oh”
“It’s understandable. She has to read, and memorized, and learn everything.”
“And you?” Valthjof asks as he unshed his sword and nicked a web of bushes.
“And I’m there.” She grimaces inwardly —the untreated gashes of her feet; she felt them bleeding, if they don’t watch it they’ll get infected.
“You ok?”
“Yes.” The girl lies. “You were telling me…” she trails off.
“Waterlands.”
Her brows rose unimpressive. Whoever thought they were being creative naming isles would be scandalized with Astrid’s disappointment. “Logical.” She ends up replying, awkwardness bubbling up.
There’s a pause while they pass a streamlet.
“You didn’t false your age and name, did you?"
His jaw sets, “I needn’t spread misinformation.”
Astrid learns first thing about this mysterious man; he’s an awful liar. But that leads her towards the next question; “You said you were once a warrior.” she pulls it out, accommodating it for her consequent shot, “At least, I think Berk wouldn’t chose a wimp who fled from battles to protect his heir’s future wife. I’m pretty sure they would have disowned you. Is there anything you’re not being truthful about? Because I sense you’re hiding it.”
Valthjof’s eyes hardened on her as his nostrils flared, she had visibly upset him and it showed. Poor Astrid had to fight against a flinch that threated to strike her entire body from head to toes. Oh, she’s overstepping, she should apologize for such indecency—
“I prefer you naïve than witty sleuth.” He quips.
Offended, she glares him, “And I will prefer you to tell the whole truth.”
“You have quite a character hidden within you.” he paused, and then inhaled profoundly, tired, “I wasn’t neither conceived nor brought out of my mother’s uterus in Berk.”
“W-what?” she stutters.
“I met with the Archipelago when I was a boy your age, teen and doltish. Recently escaped from home, and dragging sweet childlike dreams of being a warrior behind me.”
“What you were before that?”
“Bastard-son of a roman soldier. My mother a harlot, my father a man who couldn’t be denied.”
“Why did you ran off your home?”
“Mother found great enjoyment in flagellated me with a scourge. I stabbed her in the leg and left her bleeding, then I shielded under the protection of a tradesman.”
She swallows hardly, like there was a big lump stuck midway of her throat. “And that’s how you befriended with Berk, by the trips.”
He nods, “I combated alongside them for many years, and even defended the father of his current Chief and himself. They weight a lot of trust on my shoulders, and vice versa.”
“And now you’re retired.”
“Not by choice.” he tsks, “They begged me.”
Astrid frowns.
“I “retired” two years ago to go back to that life of merchant and rest how’s appropriate.”
“And… did you wanted?”
He laughs loudly, “I confess I grew fond with the Viking Way.”
She licks her lips before reminding boldly; “But you still lied and said you were from Berk.”
“Yes, that’s a cover, child.”
“I-“
“Your culture embraced me and I embraced them.” Valthjof heckles, “You may not know due it your village is the furthest and separated, but inside the Archipelago; Berk is the wealthiest, more respected village in that packet of savagery, brat heirs and ruthless Chiefs. And the most secretive, there’re only a few things they let go out of their cliffs.”
Astrid slowly processes the news, and ultimately gives the conclusion, “So they took you under their wing, so people wouldn’t despise you once they made you step off from the violence.”
“You are clever. Yes, I present myself from Berk, and so people don’t look at me twice. If people knew it; bastard and non-Viking.” he chortles.
“A matter of reputation.” Astrid deduces.
“Aye.”
The man fidgets with a layer of leather of his waist pulling out a small canteen. He opens up the lid with his index and brought the nozzle to his lip, but before it could touch it he halted and looked at her sideways, “Thirsty?”
“Can you tell me more of Berk?”
Valthjof took a quick swig of whatever was the content but didn’t respond.
///
THUNK!
The whetted steel sunk with a sickly snap through flesh and spines and onto the trunk. Valthjof whirled his wrist as he pressed his fingertips in the slick skin of the freshly, butchered fish; he slid his long fingers in the slit letting drain blood and all its reeked fluids.
Astrid, who’d sat meters away witnessing the disembowelment— couldn’t stopped herself of wrinkle her little nose at the sight.
“If it bothers you so much, why you sat there?” he asked it whilst cleaning up the blade with a ragged cloth. “Take a sit over there.” the rough man jerks his thumb behind him.
She peers where he pointed; another mucky boulder, “No. I wanted here.”
“Then you've to stop with the grimacing,” he spits his phlegm, “You’ll face worst things.”
“Like what?”
He shrugs, “Your wedding night, when your husband’ll spread you open and fucks you.”
The girl stares wide eyed at him, baffled. And in expect of a rapid apologize.
“You didn’t like that, did you?”
No she didn’t like it, she loathed it. Hurt and despair washed on her. The words felt near a welt striking her existence with a mammoth accurateness; as soon they arrive in Berk, she’ll be introduced, wedded, and taken on knees and palms.
“You deserve better than a honeyed fable,” Valthjof says after a moment, inserting the blade around the ventral fin again, the fish’s hacked head finally fell on the ground with a muffled sound as its protruded eyes connect with Astrid’s. “Don’t fret, child. Though be prepared, I heard the consummation'll hurt to you first time.”
“He’s… Is he— the way you described it,” her tongue glide over her lips, anxiously and nervous, “His demeanor—”
He scowls, “Berk’s heir is many things. I will not spoke of him nor Berk.”
Astrid shook her head, blonde strands swinging, “No.” the girl surveys the clear before her, “You won’t,” she stood, “But you’ve to, please. I’m their bride. I’m part of that trade.” softly pleads.
“You’ll meet them when you’re there.” his only answer before twirling the torsk once more and smoothing his hand over its last ripped scales, “And don’t usher that childish argument of “because I have the right”.” warns.
His butcher knife was gone after he’d laid it briefly on the trunk, but no for so long before it pointy, menacing end was thrust with force on the wood by delicate, trembling fingers gripping tightly the haft, sneering; the girl says; “Is in my right.”
The bulky man impassively contemplates her, “You threated me or asserted your words?”
Astrid doesn’t want a quarrel with Valthjof; he’s been nothing but polite and unfeigned to her. And admittedly, he lets her disadvantaged in many, many things. But to refuse the slightest details of the northern isle preoccupied her.
“I’m begging you. Please. I departed my homeland to save it, because Berk promised us offerings, plenty of supplies; livestock, nourishment, furs, meat, coin. And weapons too. Valthjof, please, I can’t go ignorant to a country that’s helping us. My country is perishing, my people are vulnerable, and we burnt every night since three months ago by the fire-breath of dragons.”
“Then why’d you tried to escape?”
She froze, “What?”
“We’re here; you pleading, and I’m making our dagveror, because of you, we stand in this soil because you jumped. You’re trying to convince me with a speech even after you had run off. Where do your words fall?
He hadn’t touched her, and yet it felt like he slapped her.
“I’ll not speak of Berk. Now, help with the bonfire, child.”
Having taken the initiative rapidly; Astrid searched after dry branches and flat rocks and made a neat heap of dead leafs meanwhile Valthjof finished slicing the fish in parts and lighting said bonfire. Together and summoned in their thoughts pierced the flesh’s chunks in the surplus branches bracketed by nature noises.
“You mentioned dragons,” commented Valthjof after spitting spines that’d mired in his teeth.
They were half-eating, sitting near the heat source, he had insisted on going anywhere but the dirt, but she declined and had said that there was no salvation for her dress anyway, even then; it was a pity that the hem of the fabric had turned from a rich scarlet to a dark brown.
“I did mention them.”
“They’re the causing of yours devastation I heard.”
“Yes,” she swallows, “They have been raiding us since Mörsugur.”
“You know why?”
“Of course I don’t know. We actually don’t understand. After six years of peace… we foolishly thought the beasts were gone.”
“No guilt on that. I imagine your village suffered all those years.”
She nods.
There’s another wave of tranquil and definitely more comfortableness, before Valthjof cleared his throat, “I recall a vivid moment when I was seven, when one of my mother’s colleagues told me that dragons have their own place, not a nest nor an island, more like a… world. A world never visited by mankind.”
She frowned skeptical, “And— and you believed her?”
“I was young. I would have assumed the existence of a margýgr if someone would told me,” he chuckles contagiously with Astrid too, “She said a drunken sailor told it at her when he finished with her, adding he had seen it. And if hadn’t been for the thick fog, he could have it visualized finely.”
Astrid smirked, not quite capable of picturing a small Valthjof awed-struck. Amusement quickly dissipated; she asked frowning, “Where supposedly would be this world?”
“Located at the edge of ours,” he says dryly.
“I wish these beasts fell and died at the edge of the world.” responds scathingly.
He snorts.
“Funny? The pests are separating and ending families, and I’m sure we’re not the only village target it of their assaults—”
"No, it’s not funny. I’m aware of how bloody and destructive their onslaughts are."
“You ever saw dragons, right?”
“Many times.”
“You had ever slay them?”
“Many times.”
She scrutinized him in the mere second restful of such ruffled talk, she kept studying him though; mindful of his sudden strain in movements, as if he was being careful in his body language, and also of the delivers of his replies. She commented nothing about it. They barely exchange glances, and just gathered their stuff and started the road back to the shore.
“Don’t expect me of me not to scold you. You were incredible irresponsible, you could have killed yourself from the height you leaped. Astrid, I love you so much, but for your stupidest you will be locked in your chamber, you will be washed and dressed inside with the assist of Hrefna, and feed by the hand of Póra. Learn the consequences of your actions,” had coldly said Cami when she met with her.
Despite following Cami’s dire instructions of Astrid not being allowed in leave her room for the six days of the voyage —Even if against her will—. Both held the knowledge of how much they cared for the one and the other. Regardless of how much Astrid wanted to wrench her sister’s frigid and despotic attitude with less courteous words, Cami’s severity displayed on her straightforwardness can’t be blamed at all. She’s been assigned an obligation; she’s acting based on what superior authority had edict her to do, whether they like it or not.
///
Purple smeared over the sky in its dawn whilst it transited into the greyish classic of the early mornings. Long, golden tresses weren’t resting in the pillow anymore, with the gown ridden up by her thighs and bent in the hip; she probed the gashes through the whitish bandages with the little aid of frail sunrays and candlelight. Though attended, the keen pangs of her feet injuries had almost made her rue her escapade.
Howbeit it turned into a blunder, and had bothersome her sister further; not only it had irked them, it had shifted the date of the arriving to late evening of Laugardagur, and not Frjádagr as had been scheduled.
That time has shortened, and now in only some hours they’ll reach the northern isle, they pictured it in quite the calm ambiance, that was until disagreeable news came.
It was during a second where Astrid was pondering if whether relief herself in the solitude of her gelid chamber, when a turmoil blasted and roared outside the door, followed by unintelligible mutters and indecorous swears. Hrefna kicked her way in and —with an apologetic smile, and a hurried “Good day”, hastened her in a linen bluish dress, another of those romans garments Brynhild had stolen. If she hadn’t chided her, the woman would have forgotten to even wipe her face with a cloth soaked in clean water.
“I’ll not be cleansed?” Hrefna flickered down at her, confused by the unmistakable tone of disappointment from the girl. It wasn’t the cleaning that Astrid has been complaining for days, of course not, it was the action of being bathed like she couldn’t do it by herself and the goddamned prayers, and that the servant lefts her skin chafed and reddened after the end of every bath.
“No. Later.”
Cozy in a thick fur she went out to the wide deck of the fleet, in time to watch her sister’s plain indignation expressed in her knitted brows, Valthjof seemed explaining of some stuff at her feet distanced.
She stalked towards them, eventually picking up their en going discussion.
“No,” her sister solidly interjected. “We are not gonna get down this ship,” her scowl deepened as she spats, tugging her own fluffy fur, concealing her flimsy arm-freckles and that crimson dot birthmark aloft the curve of her right shoulder.
“It is required,” he insisted.
“And they can shove up their pretty requirements wherever they choose to like,” her sister stretches her arm at her, quickly holding hands, “I’ll repeat it; no one is getting down this thing.”
Astrid’s blonde head tilts, fixing her blue eyes at Valthjof, “Are we‘ll get down?”
“He says so, a berkian boat will pick us,” responds her sister in a latent enraging.
Her face hardens, and in such coldness —that Astrid has never heard her use ever, voiced her realization, “Because they have insolated themselves,” she juts her chin out, attempting to level her short height with his’ massiveness.
He crosses arms under his chest, “It’s a measurement of protection.”
“Nonsenses,” she shrieks, “This secretiveness, this self-marginalization is not sane!”
Valthjof exhales resigned, chest significantly deflating at the clear remorseful for his subsequent words, “You wanted me to prattle about Berk, I denied it, but now it may be your only soothing,” he stroked his eyelids distressed, as if he’s battling an argument with himself. When he straight his back and swiped his tongue over his lips, he seems he lost it; “You two are heading to a tribe with starkly differences with yours, inhabited by people as sturdy as their soil. People who wears leather on their waists and clad-armor upon their shoulders, not linen but wool, not soft but harsh, bloodlust warriors at the best and when it comes to defend Berk,” he then sets eyes on Astrid, “And you’re the fortunate to stay there; to live, to eat, to piss and shit, to breath among them, fucking too and breeding the next heir. Better adapt quickly.”
Astrid stiffens at the last mention, “Not a baby-oven,” she snarls baring her teeth.
He looms over her, squinting at her lithe presence, “Then prove them otherwise.”
“They’re here!” shouted someone.
"Pack your things and get in that boat," he rushes them.
“N-no,” Cami stutters.
"Here," he mutters, withdrawing two daggers from the sheaths at his sides, "You know the basis, how it works; you swing and cut."
Disbelieving; the girls took each knife, “We don’t know how to fight,” cleared Cami.
“Aye,” he resumed his short lecture ignoring her protests, “Twice at the neck if necessary; stabbing or slitting,” making a demonstration by circling his own neck with the thumb.
That’s the last they saw of Valthjof of Berk; a ghost of a smile dancing on his thin lips and his right hand gripping his sword’s hilt, the ever proof he existed heaving in his former blades now dangling in the girls’ fingers.
At the boat two brawny men plucked their stuff away from Hrefna and Póra, barely making eye contact with them, and had already begun to unroll the flag. The older with the red tuft stared contently at Astrid.
He took a pace forward, she took one back.
It’d made him roll his eyes. “We won’t harm you, we’ll not touch you. You are our heir’s bride,” he brushes off snot of his nose, and continues hauling the khaki rope whilst surveying her sister, “and I have understood you’re the heir of your little village.” With a final tug, the rope strained and the flag sprawls with a gentle flap, “If I want to fuck, I go with a whore, not squealing high-born girls.”
Needless to mention neither couple exchanged words with the counterpart, if not urgently needed. And though the last path of their sailing went tensed after the offense and mere insult, it notably carried acute expectation, suspense and heightened fearfulness. And had hit Astrid disastrously, basked in Cami’s bony arms and wailing helplessly after having realize how it was actually happening, she resented and had scold herself for her weakness, but the moment had simply surpassed her; the cruelness of the Council in subtlety selling her, yes; there’s a grand reason lurking behind it, but the cost to get rid of her and bare her of decisions and a possibility for a distinct fate?
Albeit shrouded in a fog and a night as dark as coal upon them, Berk starts clearing up at quite a decent distance.
Nearby the coast were stood two large, too burly and broad figures and one remarkably skinny. When the blurs lessens, his appearances slowly reveals, the lanky had a mop of auburn hair at top a head comically too big for his body.
And she sees green, green eyes glinting in the torchlight.
Green eyes that stride away from the shore and gaits towards her new home.
#my writing#ISOBEL#httyd fanfic#httyd fanfiction#httyd au#hiccstrid#hiccstrid fanfic#arranged marriage au#au
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Black Swan From a Psychoanalytic Perspective
Black Swan is an American psychological horror film released in 2010. Directed by Darren Aronofsky and starring Natalie Portman, it was critically acclaimed and nominated for several awards, including five Oscar nominations in the categories of Best Film, Best Director, Best Photography, Best Editing and Best Actress (Natalie Portman), winning the latter.
The film tells the story of a prestigious ballet company that decides to retire and replace its prima ballerina for the debut ensemble production of the classic ballet Swan Lake, created by the composer Piotr Ilitch Tchaikovsky. Therefore, Nina (Portman), a dancer obsessed with perfection, has the opportunity to make her dream of playing the Queen Swan come true, a role that requires a dancer capable of playing both the innocent and vulnerable White Swan, and the sensual and malicious Black Swan.
Tchaikovsky's dramatic ballet, which was clearly a great inspiration for the plot´s development, revolves around the story of Odette, a sweet young princess condemned to live as a swan during the day and reveal her human form at night. To end this curse, Odette needs a young admirer to declare his love and fidelity to her. However, the prince is bewitched by the seductive and disingenuous Black Swan, resulting in the White Swan's suicide.
It is evident that Nina perfectly suits the White Swan’s role: a 28 year-old woman living with her controlling mother, Erica (Barbara Hershey), and sleeping in a pink room decorated with various stuffed animals. Besides the innocent and pure aspects presented by Nina´s lifestyle, her connection with sex is childish and immature; her low voice tone added to insecure and hesitant behaviour reflect the ballet dancer´s vulnerability. Even her name, which means girl, portrays the ingenuous aspect of the character and reveals Aronofsky's intention to present a completely castrated woman.
Nina's father is not mentioned. We can deduce that the lack of a father figure in Nina's life resulted in an interdependent relationship between her and her mother, in which the existence of the dancer is the matriarch's unique and exclusive property. However, Ericas´s abusive control is accepted in a masochistic way by Nina, demarcating an absolute symbiosis. This fact leads us to question if even the dream of becoming a great ballet dancer really belongs to Nina and not to her mother who had the same dream destroyed due to an unexpected pregnancy. From this premise, we can understand the matriarch a little better: is not Erica holding Nina responsible for her frustration and thus unconsciously taking revange through a sadistic behaviour?
Although Nina´s personality helps her representing the White Swan, she needs to connect to her instinctive side, so she would also be able to represent the Black Swan. The allusion to the psychic apparatus set up by Freud is quite clear at this point: the Black Swan represents the id, the subject of an unconscious desire only interested in pleasure´s satisfaction, whilst the White Swan represents the superego, the personality aspect that mantains moral standards internalized. Nina's ego, the psychic structure responsible for the balance of the two structures mentioned above, is almost nonexistent. Fearing the monstrous superego built by her sadistic mother, Nina doesn't desire. She is just a lifeless doll fulfilling the wishes of her mother and making us wonder: how is it possible to make a completely castrated woman, who does not desire, represent a malicious, seductive and manipulative character?
Nina, however, surprises us by showing shadows of desire when she unusually loosens her hair and applies a stolen red lipstick to her lips in a subtle attempt to seduce the artistic diretor, Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel), responsible for choosing the Swan Queen. When Thomas realizes that there is a dark side retained in the dancer, he provokes her to make it free. The director then becomes the male presence for Nina; the non-existent paternal representation which, through the interference of an older experienced man, can put an end to the unhealthy relationship with her mother, as a late resolution of Oedipus Complex. However, as she approaches her dark side, the anger towards her mother, previously denied and deeply rooted, comes to the surface and becomes unbearable. The repulsive feeling is projected on Lilly (Mila Kunis), an attractive colleague who fits perfectly in the role of the Black Swan. Nina sees Lilly as her double, the missing part of her inner world puzzle which she is pressured by her superego to keep distance from. In contrast, along with the feelings that distance her from Lilly, Nina also feels envy and admiration for her colleague.
The awakening of repressed feelings overloads Nina´s conflicting psychic apparatus with guilt and resistence, resulting in strong anxiety episodes and splitting her conscience in half: Nina´s schizoprenia is finally revealed. The rupture of her vulnerable ego leaves Nina divided between the superego and the id, the White Swan and the Black Swan, a duality emphasized through various black and white elements distributed through out the scenes. From that moment, Nina faces the meaninglessness of her inner world and loses herself in her own abyss. The dancer is overcome by feelings so deeply painful that she ends up being completely invaded by the id emotions: at the end of the film Nina needs to fulfill her wish; she needs to complete the presentation regardless of the consequences. However, surrendering the darkest part of herself has not freed her from the guilt imposed by the superego. The tension in her psychic apparatus is so intense that Nina´s ego sees a return to organic stability as the only way out; the end of tensions; the death drive. Nina then becomes a victim of her own psychic structure.
- Lisa Castro
-
youtube
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reboot PoTA Couple Theme Songs and their Meanings
Boy did this take me a while to finish! This is something I’ve been working on almost all of 2019 and I’ve finally finished it (2019 was not nice to me-my classes were, but everything else was a blur of getting sick and going from no anxiety to anxiety attacks happening daily. It was just a mess!)
Like the title says, it’s a theme song list for our favorite Planet of The Apes shippings and couples (I only did a few to save time but if this gets popular enough, I could do another involving any shippings and couples that aren’t present here (such as Will X Caroline or Malcolm x Ellie)).
Each couple have their own five theme songs (because one isn’t enough to tell their full story) and each song represents something unique about the couple dynamic or how the shipping can be interpreted and will include a description underneath (some may be longer than others (the more I know on that shipping/more I have to say, the more I write about them)-I apologize in advance for that!). If there’s any information that is missing or details that I overlooked (or even if you disagree with the description) please feel free to share!
Please note that you are not obligated to listen to these songs and you are completely and totally free to add a song to these couple lists. Part of the reason why I made this was in hopes that maybe it would spark a conversation amongst us PoTA fans about our favorite PoTA shippings/couple and explore other shippings.
Also, I didn’t include OC relations here but feel free to add them in your reblogs(you may also re-use songs that are already on these lists if you feel they could describe your OC x Canon shipping)! All love stories are welcomed on this post! (the only rule is there can’t be any underage or huge age difference couples).
My information sources are:
All three Reboot movies, Firestorm, Revelations, The Planet of The Apes Fandom Wikia and also reading a couple of stuff/peaking around on AO3, FanFiction.net, DeviantArt, and Wattpad.
With that said, enjoy the theme songs!
Caesar x Cornelia
Stand by you - Rachel Platten
Better Together - Jack Johnson
Say Something (I’m giving up on you) - A Great Big World
Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down
The Call - Regina Spektor
Description:
As this is a couples list, it only makes sense to start it with the king and queen themselves!
I think it’s more than safe to say that these two loved each other very much.
We saw Caesar and Cornelia’s relationship grow from Rise, Firestorm, Dawn, Revelations, to War and during that time, we’ve seen them grow closer (I actually think that, as their relationship progressed, Cornelia made Caesar a better leader-as she pointed things out to Caesar that he either ignored/didn’t realize/know in Firestorm).
When I personally think about this couple, I think about Caesar: The life he grew up with, the family he left behind when he chose to stay in the forest with the apes, the hardships he had to face in the earlier days/years of freedom and I think about all the stress and the anxiety that he had to have felt during those times. He had to have felt that he had to show strength in the presence of his followers-that would have meant not thinking/talking about Will, Charles or Caroline or letting it be known if he missed them at all.
Then I think about Cornelia. As his wife, she had to have known everything about Caesar. From his childhood to anything and everything he feared and worried about as king and leader. If there was anyone in the whole colony that Caesar could have shown that side to him, that uncertain, missing his family side to him, it would have been Cornelia, and I would imagine that she understood that he missed his human home. That she listened to his worries and comforted him-possibly reassured him if he needed it.
I didn’t know if it’s talked about very much but, as king and queen they’re very similar in personality: Both being compassionate and kind, but also fiercely protective of both the colony and of their friends and as parents, both are (also) protective and loving towards Blue Eyes and Cornelius (examples being Caesar protecting Blue Eyes from the bear and later protecting both sons from Carver in Dawn and Cornelia keeping Cornelius safe in Revelations).
This couple is featured in nearly every fanfic out there and every Planet of The Apes role-play that Tumblr has but I feel like we don’t talk about it enough. In War, Caesar was more than devastated by Cornelia’s death (and by the death of Blue Eyes) as he became vengeful, murderous and (pretty much) ready to kill because of it (remember that man with the wood at the oyster farm where they found Nova?).
If you really want to go there, it says a lot about his and Cornelia’s relationship during the war. That (maybe) the war took such a tool on Caesar (mentally and emotionally) that she became his strength. That (maybe) Caesar was already on the verge of losing it well before the attack on that hill (like having a breakdown or panic attack)-and I wouldn’t be surprised, as he was betrayed by Koba, then by Red and other followers of Koba, and his apes were being attacked, threatened and/or killed by the soldiers.
Maybe Cornelia kept him grounded, reminded him of who he was and what was important and when the Colonel killed her, it broke something in Caesar and when he lost her, he lost part of himself and may have forgotten who he was (only remembering when he realized he couldn’t kill the Colonel).
Blue Eyes x Lake
Kiss The Girl - Ashley Tisdale
Love Story - Taylor Swift
Colors - Halsey
It’s all coming back to me now - Meet loaf
When you’re Gone - Avril Lavigne
Description:
Blue Eyes and Lake clearly loved each other in War. We know they grew up together and played with each other as children though their (romantic) feelings for each other likely came later (around the time of Dawn/Revelations).
We didn’t get to see much of their relationship (due to Blue Eyes dying and/or being sent away in Revelations) but, considering that Blue Eyes was protective of his friends and family (and openly affectionate towards them in War), I think it can be assumed that he would have been a loving husband to Lake and would have protected her if she were in danger.
Lake appeared to love children, so it is reasonable to imagine they would have had children together and she would have, more than likely, been a wonderful mother to them. Lake was also brave (as seen when she defended Caesar in War), which makes it likely she could have assisted Blue Eyes as his queen (if he had lived to become king).
And now, the Fan-Made couples!!!
Caesar x Koba (aka: ‘Caba’)
Little Do You Know - Alex & Sierra
Hold On - Chord Overstreet
A Moment Like This - Kelly Clarkson
Breathless - Shayne Ward
Teddy Bear - Melanie Martinez
Description:
Yes, I absolutely had to start with this one as it’s, if I’m not mistaken, the most common shipping in the fandom (and it’s also my favorite too!).
Caesar and Koba were obviously very close in Dawn (as best friends and honorary brothers) as Koba saved Caesar from that bear in the beginning and Caesar later gifted the pelt to him. This relationship was created when Caesar rescued Koba and other apes from Gen-Sys and continued in Firestorm.
I can’t remember if I got this far into Caesar’s Story, but I wanna say there was a part in the book where it talked about Koba having feelings for/falling in love with Caesar(?)(Please correct me if I’m wrong).
It all came crashing down when the humans showed up and Koba’s hatred of them was reborn and it became clear to him that Caesar still ‘loved’ humans (when Koba said “Caesar loves humans more than apes” he may have actually believed that-it is also possible he may have thought Caesar loved humans more than him).
It eventually leads to Koba shooting him (which means he, essentially, abandoned his love for Caesar in favor of his hate for humans) and then declaring war on the humans-and later, resulted in Caesar having to kill him. Koba’s betrayal deeply hurt Caesar and so did killing him (let’s not forget that Koba’s ghost haunted him in War).
What I’ve noticed with this shipping is it’s all about the vulnerable and damaged side of Koba’s personality and about Caesar’s protective and compassionate heart.
Fanfics of this shipping sometimes follows the story of Dawn (with Pope as the bad guy or with Koba’s betrayal being deeper than just about revenge on the humans) and other times it’s completely different (nodding at the ‘Caesar and The Bonobo’ Beauty and The Beast AU on FanFiction and all other Caba one-shots(all deserve a read!)) but in all fanfics and fan arts of this shipping, there’s always a sense of heartache for the couple (either due to how Koba suffered before Rise or knowing how their relationship ended in Dawn).
Everything about this shipping is tragic and (when well-written out) heartbreaking but at the same time, it can be adorable and beautiful (I’m also tempted to call it irresistible for many fans-seriously, look on AO3, DeviantArt Wattpad, FanFiction.net-literally all of these sites has three or more fanfics/one-shots of this shipping (though I would advise you all to be careful as some of them may be, let’s say, ‘Rated R’)!).
I have not found any role-plays of this shipping on Tumblr (yet!) so I wouldn’t know how the shipping is portrayed in that category (Seriously, are there any role-plays of this? Cause I’d like to know!).
Koba x Stone
I Still Love You - Josh Jenkins
Yours to Hold - Skillet
Grenade - Bruno Mars
Hero - Enrique Iglesias
Immortal - Evanescence
Description:
I’ve, sadly, only seen this shipping on role-play blogs here on Tumblr so much of this is guessed (if anyone reading this has role-played this shipping before or have more experience with it, please correct me if I’m wrong!)
Stone was one of Koba’s friends and first followers in Dawn (aside from Grey) but his motives for following Koba are never talked about (also in Revelations, it says he’s dead but he’s clearly seen alive in War…Does he have superpowers or did he just disappear and showed up again for War?)
(Here’s my guess) Stone likely disagreed with Caesar’s role (to some extent but I doubt he was as extreme about it as Koba was) but what if, his main reason for following Koba had more to do with him having secret feelings for the bonobo than anything else? What if Stone saw and knew that Koba was still haunted by his past and comforted him when no one else would? And by the time the humans reappeared in Dawn, Stone developed his own hatred for the species that had hurt his love?
Meanwhile, Koba, who likely doesn’t feel comfortable talking about his past with anyone and felt betrayed and angered when Caesar disregarded his hatred of humans, probably would have resisted Stone’s affection for a long time before he finally let him in and fully accepted the comfort and love from the chimp (it is also possible Koba used that very sympathy to manipulate Stone into doing his bidding but I’m not sure if he would have needed to as, again, Stone would have already hated humans for torturing Koba in the past anyway).
Now about Stone’s death/survival: Let’s say that Stone survived Dawn (as seen in War). If he really did have feelings for Koba, it’s likely he would have felt guilty and somewhat responsible for his love’s death as he had chosen to agree with him that the apes should go to war with humans instead of talking Koba out of it (to be fair I’m not sure if Koba could have been convinced otherwise after the fight with Caesar in the dam but I think Stone would have had a better chance of reasoning with him anyone else).
Now let’s say Stone had actually died and Koba wasn’t defeated by Caesar. I think it’s more than safe to say Koba would be screwed if he was the one to have to go to war with the Colonel in War instead of Caesar (and it may be reasonable to suspect he may eventually realize the gravity of what he did and would regret it all as the war continues) but if this war took Stone early on, and if Stone and Koba were romantically involved, it’s also reasonable to assume Koba would have regretted that most of all-seeing Stone as the last (and by the time of War, the only) to love him and care about him and feeling lost and alone without him.
All in all, this shipping has a love lost and a sort of ‘dam(sel) in distress’ feel to it.
Koba x Cornelia
Sk8ter Boi - Avril Laringe
When I was Your Man - Bruno Mars
Uptown Girl - Billy Joel
Bad Boy - Cascada
Dear in The Headlights - Owl City
Description:
I have the same problem here-total guesswork!
Based on what little I know of this shipping so far, it reminds me of the ‘outcast falls in love with popular person’ scenario that is sometimes seen in high school movies. But this shipping could seriously work as a love triangle story!
Koba and Cornelia have little to no interaction in the books (the ones I’ve read so far anyway!) or in the movies but it is known that they see each other as honorary brother and sister (due to Caesar and Koba being honorary brothers). It’s reasonable to assume they had mutual respect for each other and that Cornelia was just as betrayed by Koba’s actions as Caesar was.
However, it is never revealed what Koba’s plans would have been for Cornelia had Caesar truly died (there is a chance he could have forced her into marrying him but I also think there's a chance she would have rebelled against him and Koba could have decided to kill her (or kill Cornelius as punishment and then kill her? I dunno know)).
Also, what if Koba had wanted Cornelia as his wife all along and only decided to kill Caesar when he did because the humans ‘conveniently’ showed up (unlikely but maybe)? I think this shipping was born from the idea that Koba always had a secret crush on Cornelia but kept it a secret because she married Caesar and knew he had no chance with her.
Another thought (and this is highly unlikely but still): In the wild, chimps would have multiple mates (Rocket in Rise for example) so there's also a (tiny) chance that Caesar could (in theory) be married to both Cornelia AND Koba-I have never heard of this particular thing happening and I’m not sure if the Caba and/or the Koba x Cornelia shippings are popular enough to warrant that sort of dynamic but it would make an interesting fanfic.
Koba x Pope
Issues - Julia Michaels
Battles Scars - Guy Sebastian Ft. Lupe Fiasco
Love the Way you Lie - Eminem Ft. Rhianna
Next To Me - Imagine Dragons
Courage - Superchick
Description:
For those who don’t know, Pope is the main villain from the Dawn comics. He’s very similar to Koba (as they’re both apes that came from labs) but worse as he enslaved primitive apes and saw them as lesser beings-going as far as calling them ‘stupid animals’.
Anyway, me and a friend made this one up a while back in our discussions and, from what I remember, we had two or three(?) different scenarios for this shipping.
One being that since they were both abused and tortured by humans, they may find comfort in each other (finding it easy to show vulnerability to someone who’s equally damaged) and fall in love from their shared experiences.
In the comic, Pope’s past is only hinted by Koba when he says: “He was like me…A lab ape. Bad Things, maybe worse.” and then his past is never mentioned of again however, Pope does say: “Never show weakness.” after the killing of a human later in the comic. Based on that, it’s reasonable to suspect that Pope may harbor a similar hatred to humans as Koba does and may suffer from demons of his own but keeps it well hidden from other apes.
Two being more about their personalities: Both Koba and Pope are capable of hurting people (as seen when Koba killed Ash and shot Caesar and Maurice in Dawn and when Pope killed the alpha, killed Fifer and Cora and enslaved all the primitive apes in the comic) and both are described by the PoTA Fandom Wiki as ‘cruel and tyrannical’ (with Koba being described as ‘belittling’, ‘unstable’ and ‘manipulative’ and Pope as ‘immoral’, ‘arrogant’ and ‘egomaniacal’).
Considering these traits, it wouldn’t be too hard to imagine one of them to perceive the other’s vulnerability as ‘weakness’ and actually abuse the other (like Pope abusing Koba or Koba abusing Pope). Based on their personalities, it’s possible the kind of abuse they’d inflict on each other would likely be physical, emotional, or mental abuse (or all three).
Third (and this is more of continuation of the second one!), even if Koba and Pope weren’t abusing each other, their relationship would likely be argumentative, unhealthy, troubling, rough and just very dysfunctional.
These are two very damaged apes with traumas that were not properly dealt with or given help for and full of pent up rage and hate towards humans (plus Pope hated Caesar and disrespected his rule). If they were to be a couple, their own traumas and hatred would feed off of each other and may, inadvertently, make it worse (this would likely not be a problem if Pope and Koba were with other people as a person who doesn’t have the same experiences or resentment as them would likely help ‘heal’ them). Maybe their relationship could work but they may need therapy (psychotherapy and/or couple therapy) before it gets there.
Red x Winter
Sorry - Halsey
Please Don’t Leave Me - P!nk
Accidentally in Love - Counting Crows
Secrets - OneRepublic
You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift
Description:
Eeeeeek! This one is my second favorite! I can’t wait to share this dynamic! :D
Both gorillas are first seen in Revelations. Red being manipulative, defiant, aggressive and violent (as shown when he manipulated Grey, lead the soldiers to the building where the colony was hiding in, tried to kill Cornelia (twice and one being while she was trying to help another female ape give birth!) and also when he slapped Cedar) and Winter being fearful and timid (as seen when he faced the wall after the building next to the colony’s hiding place was blown up and when he failed to kill Cornelia (which Red manipulated him into trying to do anyway)). Both are seen again in War, where Winter proves himself as a coward and Red a traitor.
Needless to say, both of these gorillas have very different personality types. The interactions they had both in Revelations and in War weren’t enough to say they were friends (let alone romantically involved) however, Red clearly knew Winter was easy to control. Why else would he consistently manipulate him? And Winter appeared to be afraid of Red. This could be because Red was more aggressive than him and Winter feared confrontation.
However, there’s a lot about the two gorillas that were never revealed (backstory wise. I actually do have a backstory theory for Red but that’s a post for another day). For example, Red was shown to have a lot of anger built up in him and while it is believed to be due to Caesar killing Koba, it feels much deeper than that.
Koba was only leader for a day and or two (or less, my math isn’t great) and Red was willing to kill Cornelia, manipulate and endanger other apes and betray the colony over that? No, this anger didn’t develop overnight. It had to have been there BEFORE Dawn (and it somehow has something to do with Caesar)!
Then there’s Winter. We know his father died before he was born but we don’t know how or what his relationship was/the whereabouts of his mother (this does open the door for speculation of whether or not the circumstances of his father’s death and the relationship he had with his mother could have anything to do with Winter’s fearfulness).
Finally, their relationship: What if Red’s anger and hate was all a mask? What if, deep down inside, he was actually a very hurt, troubled and damaged person and only knew how to show it through anger? And what if Winter’s greatest flaw was actually his strength? Winter was more open about his feelings in both Revelation and in War (whether it be fear, shock, or worry) while Red was very closed off.
What if that difference was what originally attracted Winter to Red? What if Winter, despite being intimidated by Red, viewed him as mysterious and was drawn to him by that. Meanwhile, what if Red was secretly jealous of Winter being so open about his vulnerabilities-even if he knew others would look down on him for it.
With all that said (sorry it was that long!), Red and Winter’s relationship would be built on shared (either expressed or hidden) vulnerabilities and traumatic experiences. Both have flaws and neither of them are weak. They just depend on each other for strength and (in one-shots where they survive War) for belonging as they have no one else.
Blue Eyes x Ash
Bad Day - Daniel Powter
Dark Paradise - Lana Del Ray
Perfect - P!nk
Complicated - Avril Lavigne
Count on Me - Bruno Mars
Description:
This is another shipping I’ve only seen briefly-I’m not sure if there are any role-plays of it on Tumblr (but then again I never really looked either!) but there is a fanfic or two out there of this pairing (again, if I miss something a detail regarding this shipping, please let me know!).
Ash is first seen in Dawn when he and Blue Eyes are fishing together. Right away, it’s pretty clear these two are close friends and likely grew up together (which would make sense as their fathers are so close). Based on the interactions between him and Blue Eyes in that scene and the council meeting scene, Ash can be described as humorous (such as when he poked at Blue Eyes) and confident in himself (like when he was teasing Blue Eyes over the bear incident) and Blue Eyes, is protective of him as he (presumably) protected him from Carver before Rocket and the other apes intervened.
Blue Eyes is left devastated and deeply hurt after Ash’s death and, throughout Revelations, thinks about him constantly and later having a dream about him.
Since I don’t know that much about this pairing, this is where the guesswork comes in: As these two grew up together, it’s more than likely they also knew each other on a deeper level than their parents did-for example, Blue Eyes could have told Ash all his secrets, whatever worries or fears he had, maybe ranted to him about his anger and frustrations with his father or about being prince.
I don’t know if Ash had any issues with his parents (as he and Rocket appeared to be very close as father and son-and we don’t really see Ash interacting with Tinker) but if he ever had a bad day, he’d likely talk to Blue Eyes about it just like Blue Eyes would.
This relationship would be founded on childhood friendship, turned best friends, into lovers. Likely turning into a ‘you’re the only person I trust with my secrets’ kind of relationship while also being a very supportive and protective kind of relationship too.
McCullough x Caesar
I Hate Everything - Three Days Grace
Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne
Hold Me Down - Halsey
You Don’t Own Me - Grace Ft. G-Eazy
Hellfire - The Hunchback of Notre Dam
Description:
I dabbled on this one in my Whumptober one-shots but if anyone’s interested in more of this shipping, there’s a few on AO3 (it’s easily the black sheep of this list but I think it deserves a place here for clarification as to what this shipping could be versus what it sounds like). It’s a weird pairing but it’s worth checking out!
I think we all know Colonel McCullough as the most evil human in the reboot movies (as he is willing to kill apes and any human who is infected with the virus-his own son for example) and seeing how he treated Caesar in War (chaining him up, forcing him and the ape colony to work, having him whipped and tied to a cross with no food or water for days, killing Cornelia and Blue Eyes) it’s easy to see why this shipping would raise eyebrows but it all depends on how one looks at it.
For example, I see the shipping as a possible twist on War: As the war between the apes and AO soldiers unfold, McCullough’s desire to capture and/or kill Caesar turns into something else. He becomes obsessed with the Ape King and decides the best way to defeat him and get rid of the apes would be to destroy Caesar’s life. So he deliberately kills Cornelia and Blue Eyes knowing it will provoke Caesar to go after him and later in the base when McCullough has Red and Preacher bring Caesar to his office, he blackmails Caesar into marrying him (saying that he’ll let the colony live if he agrees).
As a result of it, Caesar becomes McCullough’s “chimp-wife” and is a prisoner in this forced marriage, the ape colony thinks he’s abandoned and/or betrayed them, the AO soldiers and the Donkeys are confused by the whole thing and Red and Preacher (who witnessed the Colonel’s blackmailing marriage proposal to Caesar) are thinking “WTF is happening here?”.
Another way one could see this shipping would be as something funny. Yes, it’s dysfunctional but that could be the point! If one wanted to make a fanfic of this shipping, they could use the dysfunctional aspects of the relationship and make it funny. Think Marge and Homer Simpson for example.
For those who have an issue with this shipping, I 100% agree this relationship would be doomed from the start (if we decide to take it seriously). If McCullough and Caesar were to be married, I can picture the Colonel being abusive and predigest towards Caesar and his species, blaming him for all things wrong in the world (such as the virus, the fall of the human race), likely never showing any love or affection towards Caesar, and poor Caesar would become depressed and miserable from this awful marriage.
Bon x Pope (from the Dawn comics!)
Bleeding Love - Leona Lewis
Follow Him - Peggy March
I would Do Anything For You - Foster The People
Just The Girl - Click Five
All You Wanted - Michelle Branch
Description:
To be honest, I’m not sure if Bon was really this close to Pope as he only appeared once or twice in the Dawn comics BUT! he was one of his loyal followers and while it is possible he only disagreed with Caesar’s rule, there’s another chance that he may have had feelings for Pope (much like my description of the Stone x Koba shipping).
For those who didn’t read the comics, let me sum up the interactions between these two: Bon was one of Pope’s followers and is seen returning back to the zoo after (unsuccessfully) searching for an ape named Fifer who escaped them and informs Pope that there are humans nearby. Bon also took part in the battle between Pope and Koba and was later banished along with Pope’s followers while the primitive apes followed Koba back to the Ape Village.
As this shipping, almost no leg to stand on (and is more made up than the others on this list) allow me to explain it here: Much like Grey and Stone towards Koba, Bon (and a gorilla named Rex) followed Pope-presumably because they also disliked Caesar and/or his rule. As Pope didn’t actually plan on killing Caesar until later in the comics and didn’t realize there were primitive apes, in the beginning, I don’t think there was any manipulation going on from him.
Now let’s look at Pope for a second: Pope was an ape who looked down upon anyone who showed weakness or was primitive and had no problem with enslaving, torturing, endangering or murdering other apes. Like I said in my description for the Koba x Pope shipping, Pope was also a lab ape (with fishnet scars on the left side of his face, shoulder and chest giving us a hint as to what he was put through-though it’s never actually discussed) so it is reasonable to imagine he may have his own demons and traumas, much like Koba does (unsurprisingly, Pope also hates humans).
The thing about Pope that I’m curious about is if he is traumatized from what had been done to him at the hands of humans, does he show it? He likely doesn’t as he appears to dislike seeing it and other apes showing weakness but that would mean that, much like Koba, he’s holding things back, probably much more than Koba was (as Koba is seen in Dawn talking (briefly) about what he went through with humans to Caesar).
Now looking at Pope and Bon, it makes me wonder if Bon could have picked up on that. Like what if Bon saw the pain that Pope was covering up and reached out to him?
That, and it is also possible Bon was into the ‘bad boy’ type.
Phew, glad that’s over! XD
#pota#planet of the apes#planetoftheapes#Rise of the Planet of the Apes#Dawn of the Planet of the Apes#Warfortheplanetoftheapes#CABA#Bon x Pope#blue eyes x ash#Colonel McCullough x Caesar#Koba x Pope#Koba x Stone#red x winter#Koba x Cornelia#caesar x cornelia#Blue Eyes x Lake#theme songs#music#This took me all year to do#PoTA shippings
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Walking Dead & Queer Representation
How many horror movies and tv shows can you name with queer protagonists? The Walking Dead has been on air for ten years now, and given its genre, it has a surprising amount of queer characters. The numbers themselves are nice, but when writing any minority, it’s important to have tact.
As an avid fan of The Walking Dead and a member of the queer community, I’ve taken it upon myself to break down how the show chooses to represent queer characters and what they’re doing right and wrong.
First, a few disclaimers:
This post contains spoilers for seasons 1-9, including major character deaths. I won’t go over anything that happens past season 9.
Queer people are going to die. This is a zombie show. People die in every episode. It would be pandering for all the queer characters to stay alive throughout the entire show.
I am a pansexual transboy. The characters I’m talking about are assumed to be gay, cisgender boys and girls. Notice that my experience differs from theirs and if I say something that counteracts something a lesbian or a gay man says about the characters representing their identity, you should listen to them and not me.
I like the word queer. I think it’s a great word and I’ll be using it a lot. Since almost nobody’s sexuality in confirmed in this show I use it a lot to avoid pan/bi/ace erasure. If you don’t like that word, be prepared for it now or accept that this post is not for you.
Finally, this does NOT include things from Fear the Walking Dead. Fear the Walking Dead is… such a different show in so many ways, especially in LGBT+ representation, and that’s going to require a whole ass different post (how did they fuck up that show so bad).
Let’s get down to it!
Introductions & Coming Outs
Tara:
We meet Tara when the Governor wanders into her and her sister’s apartment building after seeing her niece, Meghan, in the window. She immediately puts herself between her family and a potential threat with a gun in her hand. She doesn’t take any of the Governor’s shit, and her first priority is making sure he knows that if he does anything to hurt her family, he’ll pay for it. Once that’s all out of the way, though, she lets a friendlier side of her show and jokes around with him.
Our first introduction to queer characters in the show is done well. There’s nothing about her that would ‘tip off’ to the fact that she’s a lesbian, and she’s her own, fleshed out character.
We find out she’s a lesbian after she and her family leaves with the Govorner. They’re walking down a street with trees lining each side, and she starts to complain about it reminding her of an ex-girlfriend and a date they went on. This is dropped so casually that I didn’t even notice it in the first watch.
It’s later confirmed she’s a lesbian (instead of pan/bi/etc) when Eugene hits on her and she says, “Yeah, I like girls.”
She comes out (the first time) in such a casual way that I’m hesitant to even call it a coming out. If the Governor wasn’t there, and if we weren’t watching, it would just be a girl complaining to her sister about an ex.
Alisha:
This is my only time mentioning Alisha because that’s how minor of a character she is.
We meet her when Tara’s sister, Lily, is stitching up her palm after Alisha “got cute with her knife” and cut herself. Tara is watching from a bit away, and starts flirting with her by talking about weapons. Alisha asks if she’s always this full of shit, and Tara says, “Yes, I am.” It’s a really cute moment. It’s not overtly sexual, it’s not predatory, it’s not weird, it’s just two girls flirting with each other.
This is a great way to casually slide in a gay relationship. It’s not made to be a big deal, it’s just another relationship in the story. Before they mentioned that Tara was gay, now they’re acting on that, instead of pussying out like other shows do.
Aaron & Eric:
I’m putting these two in one category because, when we met them, they were together.
Our first impression of Aaron is when he comes up to Maggie and Sasha, unarmed, when they’re alone. He puts his hands in the air and asks to speak to Rick, saying that he’s a friend and he has good news. When Maggie and Sasha bring him back to the barn they’re holed down in, he tells them about his community, Alexandria, and welcomes them all to come home with him. He gives us no reason to distrust him (despite the very obvious ‘this is a stranger and generally strangers either try to rob, eat, or kill us’) and is, all and all, patient and understanding of the group’s distrust.
We meet Eric approximately twenty five seconds before one of the cutest kisses in the show. He sees the panic on Aaron’s face and quickly tries to calm him down, explain his injury and that it’s not a big deal, and that Maggie fixed him up, and he likes her, and- And then Aaron, in a fit of overwhelming concern and relief, rushes up to him and interrupts him with a kiss.
One of the cutest kisses in the show.
Eric then teases Aaron for being worried about him, we get some domestic goodness when Eric gives Aaron a license plate for his collection, we’re rewarded with this face:
and, all in all, it’s a good scene. It’s cute, it’s realistic, we can see how much these two care about each other, and Rick’s reaction will make me laugh until I die.
Denise:
When we first meet Denise, she is a scared, overwhelmed new doctor. She does her best to lower the bar and expresses concern that she isn’t actually capable of being the doctor of Alexandria.
At one point, Denise almost has a breakdown from stress and tells Tara that her patient’s condition is too fatal, and Denise isn’t capable of saving him. Tara tells her that being afraid if just something she’s going to have to get over. A little while later, after Denise manages to stabilize her patient’s condition and save his life, she goes over to Tara and kisses her. That’s how we learn she likes girls. Her and Tara continue a romantic relationship after that, and it’s all really cute and sweet.
Jesus:
For those of you who don’t watch the show, quick disclaimer… “Jesus” is the nickname of the character Paul Rovia. We are not talking about Jesus Christ. Just to be clear.
Our first impression of Jesus is… Kind of fucking awesome. So far our queer characters have been, by and large, absolute dorks. When we first meet Jesus, he scams Rick and Daryl, snags their keys without them noticing, and steals their truck full of food and supplies. After then he puts up one hell of a fight during his and the duo’s back and forth (unfortunately, none of them are badass enough to save that big truck from sinking to the bottom of the lake. Good job, guys). He even saves Daryl’s life during that very same battle. Jesus continues to do badass things during his introduction, but you probably get the gist.
Jesus’s coming out is so far my favourite in the show. In the season after he’s introduced, he’s having a talk with Maggie, admitting that he’s never really fit in with anyone. He thanks her for making Hilltop feel more like a home. He says, “I’ve always found it hard getting close to anyone- Neighbors, friends… Boyfriends.” Unlike Aaron and Eric, it’s a very casual coming out, mentioned only to someone he’s come to really trust and admire.
I think the way Jesus expresses his sexuality is a very important distinction from the way Aaron and Eric express theirs. Aaron is glad to mention it any time it’s relevant- For example he has a talk with Daryl when they’re alone about being outsiders, telling Daryl (who’s having trouble acclimating to his time in Alexandria) that it does get better. He references his romantic relationship with Eric and how, paraphrasing, some otherwise really lovely boys and girls will say the most hilariously offensive things. Jesus’s sexuality is a much more personal thing to him.
Both of these characters are valid, and there is nothing wrong with the way either of them choose to express their love. There needs to be more pieces of media that have queer characters that differ in this way.
Magna & Yumiko:
Magna and Yumiko are introduced towards the end of the ninth season, so I don’t know very much about them. They’re part of a small group of survivors who are looking for a settlement that’ll take them in. Magna is very distrusting, especially of Michonne. She’s impulsive, and paranoid. Yumiko, as a foil, is calmer and more rational. She’s defensive about Magna (and the rest of her group) and protective. They have the potential to make a really good team- They balance each other out well.
We learn that they’re together when they agree to split up so Magna can help the main group with the current crisis, and Magna kisses Yumiko goodbye. There were times before it was confirmed that they hinted at their relationship, for instance when one of them had their head in the other’s lap in the background of a shot and were talking quietly. When talking to Michonne, Yumiko tells a story about Magna with a fond smile.
I think, so far, they’re in the clear.
Personality Diversity
It seems obvious, but it’s important to make each character different. A lot of cishet people (and even some queer people) when writing queer characters for the first time seem to get fixated on whatever they think are ‘queer qualities.’ Every queer character they write ends up being the same one. Let’s go over the ways each queer character on The Walking Dead are their own, and can’t be lumped into the same.
Levels of capability:
Denise was an objectively weak character. She had been hidden behind the walls of Alexandria the entire apocalypse, had never killed a walker, and didn’t even know how to fight. But she died trying to be better. She asked for Daryl and Rosita’s help, people much more capable and experienced than her, and she risked her life for the good of the community.
The other queer characters are all very capable of taking care of themselves, to various extents. Tara started in a bit of a rough spot. She was better off than Denise, though, in that she knew how to shoot a gun and, being out with the Governor, she quickly grew first hand experience. Eric didn’t have as much experience, but, like Denise, he was ready to step up when they needed him. I would put Aaron on the same combat level as Tara. I mentioned Jesus’s badassery- He’s on par with Rick, Daryl, and Michonne in my opinion. As for Magna and Yumiko, they specialize in teamwork.
Strong suits:
The show also, in my opinion, did a good job at not making them the Token Gay Characters because they each have their own strong suits. Tara is extremely determined and good at giving tough love when someone else is willing to give up. Jesus is clever and savvy (firecrackers in a trashcan?). Denise was a fucking doctor (pretty much). We don’t know much about Yumiko and Magna, but I’m sure they’ll have their own strengths as well. Each character has a specialty that’ll come in handy in different situations.
Nuance:
I mentioned before that a lot of our queer characters have been pretty dorky. In my opinion, they’ve done a good job at leveling that out with Jesus, Magna, and Yumiko.
I’d also just like to take a minute to mention Tara’s fashion. I feel like they HAVE to have a lesbian on costumes, because the way Tara dresses is just a detail that you’d only think of if you’re involved in the queer community.
Look at all those fucking flannels.
Deaths
With any character, killing them is a big decision and should not be taken lightly. Sure, there are some deaths that seem relatively minor (Carter’s death when the hoard from the quarry split into two, for example), and there are deaths that are HUGE (Glenn), but each and every one served a purpose. Killing characters off for shock value or for blood or just to keep things exciting are all signs of a bad or inexperienced writer.
It’s also important to remember what this post is about- How they’ve been representing queer characters. Death is a HUGE part of that, it could make or break their entire score. Death is a sensitive subject in the queer community due to the countless hate crimes that resulted in the deaths of queer people that went unresolved and unacknowledged. In most genres, killing queer people off at all is seen as a no-no (we’re murdered enough in real life). But, as I mentioned earlier, in a show set in the zombie apocalypse, people are going to die, and that includes queer people. That doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have tact.
Denise:
Denise’s death is the easiest to see why it’s necessary. Let’s break it down.
Denise died the exact same death that Abraham did in the comic books. Why is this important? Because that gave Abraham the opportunity to be there when Negan was introduced, which is when he actually died, which Sasha saw, which pinned all of Sasha’s (and Rosita’s) anger on Negan. That led to a HUGE plot point, and Sasha’s own eventual death and the almost-victory of Rick Grimes and the almost-death of Negan! And even though all didn’t go fully to plan, it still created the distraction that was needed to begin the war, which drastically changed the course of the series. That’s why Denise died. So that Sasha could distract Negan and give Rick and his group the upper hand in the war.
I was SO sad when Denise died, but from a writer’s standpoint, it’s a death I can appreciate.
Eric:
I’m not saying Eric’s death was pointless, because it didn’t feel pointless, but I can’t exactly pinpoint the reason. However, we don’t always get to know that right away or have it be obvious. I’m inclined to do a pass on this one.
Now, onto the death itself. It was… So goddamn sad. In a fight for freedom from the Saviors, Eric was shot. Aaron immediately gets him out of the battle and brings him to a quiet place. Eric convinces him to keep fighting, because he knows that they need Aaron, saying “I can die here just fine on my own.” They say they love each other, and they kiss, and Aaron runs back to the fight. When Aaron gets back, Eric has turned and is wandering off in the distance. Another Alexandrian keeps Aaron from running after him, and comforts him.
And, I’m adding this because I think it’s important, when Aaron gets back to Rick and the group, Rick is holding a little baby named Gracie (let’s not get into how he found this baby). He needs someone to take her back to the Kingdom, so she’ll be safe… And Aaron takes her. He says, please, I have to, let me take her. Aaron adopts a little baby girl.
I personally think the death was done very well. Queerness aside, it was STRONG. It was so emotionally powerful. Aaron’s friend being there to help him and keep him from doing something stupid, him putting his mourning into doing something good (taking care of Gracie), and ESPECIALLY Eric himself telling Aaron to go, that there are more important things to be done. Emotionally speaking, it might be my favorite death in the series. It hurts, but I think it was done so well.
Jesus:
Jesus’s death was fucking stupid.
Like, I know, blahblahblah, it was important to the plot, we need to be mad at the Whisperers, we needed a reason to fight, blah fucking blah I’m still not over it. I fucking hate Jesus’s death. I WASN’T expecting it, and I’m fucking annoyed.
The biggest reason I’m annoyed is because I was waiting for them to reveal Aaron and Jesus’s relationship. I’ll talk more about why that bothered me later, but the reason Jesus’s death was awful, was because it’s inextricable from this fatal flaw.
Tara:
I’m writing this after seeing Tara’s death for the first time pretty recently. I’ve only seen it once, and the problems I have with the death aren’t the death itself at all. In fact, I think, queer-wise, it was done pretty well. I mean, it happened with a whole bunch of straighties, you know? It’s not like they put a bunch of queer kids’ heads on pikes, she was the only queer one. So I hesitantly say it was alright.
Eric, Jesus, & Tara:
This is an important part that bothers me a bit. I’m not sure how serious it is, because I very well could just be being sensitive, but… Jesus’s death happened VERY suddenly, and then right after that we lost Tara. And Eric’s death hadn’t happened too long before, either. Especially when, in comparison to the straighties, we have such a small cast of queer characters, to lose so many of them so fast… It was kind of exhausting. I’d love to hear other queer fans’ thoughts about this and if you think I’m being overdramatic, or if you feel similarly.
What Did They Do Wrong?
Before closing out the post, let’s sum everything up and give some final thoughts.
Jesus’s death and his relationship with Aaron:
I was absolutely devastated when Jesus died, and not in the good way. I accidentally read a “spoiler” that said Aaron was Jesus’s boyfriend, so I was waiting for that to be revealed. Every time Aaron and Jesus were in danger, I wasn’t scared at all, because I thought they can’t die without revealing that first.
And, I mean, after that six year gap SO many straighties were revealing their relationships. Not a single gay relationship? Not a single fucking one? I was waiting for Jesus and Aaron to reveal their relationship and instead, one of them died.
And it wasn’t just the spoiler that did this. My sister didn’t know this spoiler, and she thought they were going to get together, too. But it wasn’t just “oh there are two gay guys in the same room they HAVE to get together.” We’ve both seen scenes with the two of them together in previous seasons, and neither of us had ever thought they were going to get together. After that six year gap, Aaron and Jesus had chemistry. It seemed like they purposefully set them up just to kill one of them.
No trans characters:
It’s been ten fucking years PLEASE give me a trans character. Or, and I know, this is crazy, but maybe a couple. Unless of course the zombies have a particular taste for transies and we were all killed off at the start.
I would KILL for a transguy character who can’t bind and doesn’t pass, but all the good characters are calling him by the correct pronouns anyway and it’s not a big deal.
Please. Add some trans characters.
Missed opportunities:
My best way of explaining this is calling back to a minor character, a man who got bit after the hoard from the quarry split in half. He’s talking about his wife, how he wants to get back to her and say goodbye. He could have easily been talking about his husband.
Some people might disagree, saying that since he’s bit and he’s going to die, that this would be a really bad idea, but… I don’t think so. There’s enough major queer characters in the show to balance this out, and, I mean, come on, it’s a show about zombies. People die every episode. This gay man just happened to be one of them. We don’t even meet his wife! It would be so easy.
I think it’s a weakness that their only queer characters are major characters, because background characters are part of what reminds you that there’s a whole world out there. It’s part of the immersion. If we never meet any queer background characters, it makes the major characters outliers. I realize this is nitpicking, but it’s been ten fucking years. I’m not going to take the time to tally up every single character, major and minor, in The Walking Dead and label them as assumed straight or confirmed queer, but we can all guess what that list would look like.
What Did They Do Right?
They made sure to always have at least one queer character:
We’re missing our queer characters in the first two seasons, but once we have Tara, we have at least one queer character to look up to in every single season. Some cishet people might think this is pandering, but it’s a very important part (NOT the entirety) of avoiding the Bury Your Gays trope.
Every time they killed a queer character, there was a reason:
They’re not just slicing and dicing.
Personality differences:
They’re all their very own character, and there’s not any “queer traits.”
Coming outs:
They were all in character and done realistically.
They didn’t queer-bait or introduce a gay character just to kill them:
Every queer character so far has had a decent shelf life. For major characters, let’s keep it that way.
xxx
Talk to me about this! I want to know what you agree with me on, what you don’t, whether you’re fans of The Walking Dead or not.
Question/s of the month:
My first question is for people of colour, both those of you who are fans of The Walking Dead and who aren’t: How do you feel about how the Walking Dead chooses to represent people of colour? Go crazy, ramble as long as you want, I really want to know!
My second question is a request: Please recommend me movies and tv shows in the horror genre specifically that have queer characters! Whether it’s done well or not, I want to see them all (I’ve already seen It: Chapter 2 and I love American Horror Story).
Let me know what you think about this series, please! I want to do one on the horror genre as a whole and The Good Place, so if this is well received, I’ll get started on that!
Reblogs > Likes
Writing Ramblings
Adding my zombie apocalypse wips tag list:
@nemowritesstuff @sidhewrites
#the walking dead#twd#horror#amwriting#amwriting horror#i love horror#queer#we need diverse books#diversity#blog post
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
History Will Judge the Complicit: Why have Republican leaders abandoned their principles in support of an immoral and dangerous president?
Sometimes the point isn’t to make people believe a lie—it’s to make people fear the liar.
This Atlantic piece was a very interesting read, and applies to more than just US politics.
+++
On a cold march afternoon in 1949, Wolfgang Leonhard slipped out of the East German Communist Party Secretariat, hurried home, packed what few warm clothes he could fit into a small briefcase, and then walked to a telephone box to call his mother. “My article will be finished this evening,” he told her. That was the code they had agreed on in advance. It meant that he was escaping the country, at great risk to his life.
To hear more feature stories, get the Audm iPhone app.
Though only 28 years old at the time, Leonhard stood at the pinnacle of the new East German elite. The son of German Communists, he had been educated in the Soviet Union, trained in special schools during the war, and brought back to Berlin from Moscow in May 1945, on the same airplane that carried Walter Ulbricht, the leader of what would soon become the East German Communist Party. Leonhard was put on a team charged with re‑creating Berlin’s city government.
He had one central task: to ensure that any local leaders who emerged from the postwar chaos were assigned deputies loyal to the party. “It’s got to look democratic,” Ulbricht told him, “but we must have everything in our control.”
Leonhard had lived through a great deal by that time. While he was still a teenager in Moscow, his mother had been arrested as an “enemy of the people” and sent to Vorkuta, a labor camp in the far north. He had witnessed the terrible poverty and inequality of the Soviet Union, he had despaired of the Soviet alliance with Nazi Germany between 1939 and 1941, and he knew about the Red Army’s mass rapes of women following the occupation. Yet he and his ideologically committed friends “instinctively recoiled from the thought” that any of these events were “in diametrical opposition to our Socialist ideals.” Steadfastly, he clung to the belief system he had grown up with.
Anne Applebaum: Resist the urge to simplify the story
The turning point, when it came, was trivial. While walking down the hall of the Central Committee building, he was stopped by a “pleasant-looking middle-aged man,” a comrade recently arrived from the West, who asked where to find the dining room. Leonhard told him that the answer depended on what sort of meal ticket he had—different ranks of officials had access to different dining rooms. The comrade was astonished: “But … aren’t they all members of the Party?”
Leonhard walked away and entered his own, top-category dining room, where white cloths covered the tables and high-ranking functionaries received three-course meals. He felt ashamed. “Curious, I thought, that this had never struck me before!” That was when he began to have the doubts that inexorably led him to plot his escape.
At exactly that same moment, in exactly the same city, another high-ranking East German was coming to precisely the opposite set of conclusions. Markus Wolf was also the son of a prominent German Communist family. He also spent his childhood in the Soviet Union, attending the same elite schools for children of foreign Communists as Leonhard did, as well as the same wartime training camp; the two had shared a bedroom there, solemnly calling each other by their aliases—these were the rules of deep conspiracy—although they knew each other’s real names perfectly well. Wolf also witnessed the mass arrests, the purges, and the poverty of the Soviet Union—and he also kept faith with the cause. He arrived in Berlin just a few days after Leonhard, on another plane full of trusted comrades, and immediately began hosting a program on the new Soviet-backed radio station. For many months he ran the popular You Ask, We Answer. He gave on-air answers to listeners’ letters, often concluding with some form of “These difficulties are being overcome with the help of the Red Army.”
Read: James Mattis denounces President Trump, describes him as a threat to the constitution
In August 1947, the two men met up at Wolf’s “luxurious five-roomed apartment,” not far from what was then the headquarters of the radio station. They drove out to Wolf’s house, “a fine villa in the neighborhood of Lake Glienicke.” They took a walk around the lake, and Wolf warned Leonhard that changes were coming. He told him to give up hoping that German Communism would be allowed to develop differently from the Soviet version: That idea, long the goal of many German party members, was about to be dropped. When Leonhard argued that this could not be true—he was personally in charge of ideology, and no one had told him anything about a change in direction—Wolf laughed at him. “There are higher authorities than your Central Secretariat,” he said. Wolf made clear that he had better contacts, more important friends. At the age of 24, he was an insider. And Leonhard understood, finally, that he was a functionary in an occupied country where the Soviet Communist Party, not the German Communist Party, had the last word.
Famously, or perhaps infamously, Markus Wolf’s career continued to flourish after that. Not only did he stay in East Germany, he rose through the ranks of its nomenklatura to become the country’s top spy. He was the second-ranked official at the Ministry of State Security, better known as the Stasi; he was often described as the model for the Karla character in John le Carré ’s spy novels. In the course of his career, his Directorate for Reconnaissance recruited agents in the offices of the West German chancellor and just about every other department of the government, as well as at NATO.
Both men could see the gap between propaganda and reality. Yet one remained an enthusiastic collaborator while the other could not bear the betrayal of his ideals. Why?
Leonhard, meanwhile, became a prominent critic of the regime. He wrote and lectured in West Berlin, at Oxford, at Columbia. Eventually he wound up at Yale, where his lecture course left an impression on several generations of students. Among them was a future U.S. president, George W. Bush, who described Leonhard’s course as “an introduction to the struggle between tyranny and freedom.” When I was at Yale in the 1980s, Leonhard’s course on Soviet history was the most popular on campus.
Separately, each man’s story makes sense. But when examined together, they require some deeper explanation. Until March 1949, Leonhard’s and Wolf’s biographies were strikingly similar. Both grew up inside the Soviet system. Both were educated in Communist ideology, and both had the same values. Both knew that the party was undermining those values. Both knew that the system, allegedly built to promote equality, was deeply unequal, profoundly unfair, and very cruel. Like their counterparts in so many other times and places, both men could plainly see the gap between propaganda and reality. Yet one remained an enthusiastic collaborator, while the other could not bear the betrayal of his ideals. Why?
In english, the word collaborator has a double meaning. A colleague can be described as a collaborator in a neutral or positive sense. But the other definition of collaborator, relevant here, is different: someone who works with the enemy, with the occupying power, with the dictatorial regime. In this negative sense, collaborator is closely related to another set of words: collusion, complicity, connivance. This negative meaning gained currency during the Second World War, when it was widely used to describe Europeans who cooperated with Nazi occupiers. At base, the ugly meaning of collaborator carries an implication of treason: betrayal of one’s nation, of one’s ideology, of one’s morality, of one’s values.
Mike Mullen: I cannot remain silent
Since the Second World War, historians and political scientists have tried to explain why some people in extreme circumstances become collaborators and others do not. The late Harvard scholar Stanley Hoffmann had firsthand knowledge of the subject—as a child, he and his mother hid from the Nazis in Lamalou-les-Bains, a village in the south of France. But he was modest about his own conclusions, noting that “a careful historian would have—almost—to write a huge series of case histories; for there seem to have been almost as many collaborationisms as there were proponents or practitioners of collaboration.” Still, Hoffmann made a stab at classification, beginning with a division of collaborators into “voluntary” and “involuntary.” Many people in the latter group had no choice. Forced into a “reluctant recognition of necessity,” they could not avoid dealing with the Nazi occupiers who were running their country.
Hoffmann further sorted the more enthusiastic “voluntary” collaborators into two additional categories. In the first were those who worked with the enemy in the name of “national interest,” rationalizing collaboration as something necessary for the preservation of the French economy, or French culture—though of course many people who made these arguments had other professional or economic motives, too. In the second were the truly active ideological collaborators: people who believed that prewar republican France had been weak or corrupt and hoped that the Nazis would strengthen it, people who admired fascism, and people who admired Hitler.
Hoffmann observed that many of those who became ideological collaborators were landowners and aristocrats, “the cream of the top of the civil service, of the armed forces, of the business community,” people who perceived themselves as part of a natural ruling class that had been unfairly deprived of power under the left-wing governments of France in the 1930s. Equally motivated to collaborate were their polar opposites, the “social misfits and political deviants” who would, in the normal course of events, never have made successful careers of any kind. What brought these groups together was a common conclusion that, whatever they had thought about Germany before June 1940, their political and personal futures would now be improved by aligning themselves with the occupiers.
Franklin Foer: The Trump regime is beginning to topple
Like Hoffmann, Czesław Miłosz, a Nobel Prize–winning Polish poet, wrote about collaboration from personal experience. An active member of the anti-Nazi resistance during the war, he nevertheless wound up after the war as a cultural attaché at the Polish embassy in Washington, serving his country’s Communist government. Only in 1951 did he defect, denounce the regime, and dissect his experience. In a famous essay, The Captive Mind, he sketched several lightly disguised portraits of real people, all writers and intellectuals, each of whom had come up with different ways of justifying collaboration with the party. Many were careerists, but Miłosz understood that careerism could not provide a complete explanation. To be part of a mass movement was for many a chance to end their alienation, to feel close to the “masses,” to be united in a single community with workers and shopkeepers. For tormented intellectuals, collaboration also offered a kind of relief, almost a sense of peace: It meant that they were no longer constantly at war with the state, no longer in turmoil. Once the intellectual has accepted that there is no other way, Miłosz wrote, “he eats with relish, his movements take on vigor, his color returns. He sits down and writes a ‘positive’ article, marveling at the ease with which he writes it.” Miłosz is one of the few writers to acknowledge the pleasure of conformity, the lightness of heart that it grants, the way that it solves so many personal and professional dilemmas.
We all feel the urge to conform; it is the most normal of human desires. I was reminded of this recently when I visited Marianne Birthler in her light-filled apartment in Berlin. During the 1980s, Birthler was one of a very small number of active dissidents in East Germany; later, in reunified Germany, she spent more than a decade running the Stasi archive, the collection of former East German secret-police files. I asked her whether she could identify among her cohort a set of circumstances that had inclined some people to collaborate with the Stasi.
She was put off by the question. Collaboration wasn’t interesting, Birthler told me. Almost everyone was a collaborator; 99 percent of East Germans collaborated. If they weren’t working with the Stasi, then they were working with the party, or with the system more generally. Much more interesting—and far harder to explain—was the genuinely mysterious question of “why people went against the regime.” The puzzle is not why Markus Wolf remained in East Germany, in other words, but why Wolfgang Leonhard did not.
Here is another pair of stories, one that will be more familiar to American readers. Let’s begin this one in the 1980s, when a young Lindsey Graham first served with the Judge Advocate General’s Corps—the military legal service—in the U.S. Air Force. During some of that time, Graham was based in what was then West Germany, on the cutting edge of America’s Cold War efforts. Graham, born and raised in a small town in South Carolina, was devoted to the military: After both of his parents died when he was in his 20s, he got himself and his younger sister through college with the help of an ROTC stipend and then an Air Force salary. He stayed in the Reserves for two decades, even while in the Senate, sometimes journeying to Iraq or Afghanistan to serve as a short-term reserve officer. “The Air Force has been one of the best things that has ever happened to me,” he said in 2015. “It gave me a purpose bigger than myself. It put me in the company of patriots.” Through most of his years in the Senate, Graham, alongside his close friend John McCain, was a spokesperson for a strong military, and for a vision of America as a democratic leader abroad. He also supported a vigorous notion of democracy at home. In his 2014 reelection campaign, he ran as a maverick and a centrist, telling The Atlantic that jousting with the Tea Party was “more fun than any time I’ve been in politics.”
Read: How Lindsey Graham stomped the Tea Party
While Graham was doing his tour in West Germany, Mitt Romney became a co-founder and then the president of Bain Capital, a private-equity investment firm. Born in Michigan, Romney worked in Massachusetts during his years at Bain, but he also kept, thanks to his Mormon faith, close ties to Utah. While Graham was a military lawyer, drawing military pay, Romney was acquiring companies, restructuring them, and then selling them. This was a job he excelled at—in 1990, he was asked to run the parent firm, Bain & Company—and in the course of doing so he became very rich. Still, Romney dreamed of a political career, and in 1994 he ran for the Senate in Massachusetts, after changing his political affiliation from independent to Republican. He lost, but in 2002 he ran for governor of Massachusetts as a nonpartisan moderate, and won. In 2007—after a gubernatorial term during which he successfully brought in a form of near-universal health care that became a model for Barack Obama’s Affordable Care Act—he staged his first run for president. After losing the 2008 Republican primary, he won the party’s nomination in 2012, and then lost the general election.
Both Graham and Romney had presidential ambitions; Graham staged his own short-lived presidential campaign in 2015 (justified on the grounds that “the world is falling apart”). Both men were loyal members of the Republican Party, skeptical of the party’s radical and conspiratorial fringe. Both men reacted to the presidential candidacy of Donald Trump with real anger, and no wonder: In different ways, Trump’s values undermined their own. Graham had dedicated his career to an idea of U.S. leadership around the world—whereas Trump was offering an “America First” doctrine that would turn out to mean “me and my friends first.” Romney was an excellent businessman with a strong record as a public servant—whereas Trump inherited wealth, went bankrupt more than once, created nothing of value, and had no governing record at all. Both Graham and Romney were devoted to America’s democratic traditions and to the ideals of honesty, accountability, and transparency in public life—all of which Trump scorned.
Both were vocal in their disapproval of Trump. Before the election, Graham called him a “jackass,” a “nutjob,” and a “race-baiting, xenophobic, religious bigot.” He seemed unhappy, even depressed, by the election: I happened to see him at a conference in Europe in the spring of 2016, and he spoke in monosyllables, if at all.
David Frum: No empathy, only anger
Romney went further. “Let me put it very plainly,” he said in March 2016, in a speech criticizing Trump: “If we Republicans choose Donald Trump as our nominee, the prospects for a safe and prosperous future are greatly diminished.” Romney spoke of “the bullying, the greed, the showing off, the misogyny, the absurd third-grade theatrics.” He called Trump a “con man” and a “fraud.” Even after Trump won the nomination, Romney refused to endorse him. On his presidential ballot, Romney said, he wrote in his wife. Graham said he voted for the independent candidate Evan McMullin.
But Trump did become president, and so the two men’s convictions were put to the test.
A glance at their biographies would not have led many to predict what happened next. On paper, Graham would have seemed, in 2016, like the man with deeper ties to the military, to the rule of law, and to an old-fashioned idea of American patriotism and American responsibility in the world. Romney, by contrast, with his shifts between the center and the right, with his multiple careers in business and politics, would have seemed less deeply attached to those same old-fashioned patriotic ideals. Most of us register soldiers as loyal patriots, and management consultants as self-interested. We assume people from small towns in South Carolina are more likely to resist political pressure than people who have lived in many places. Intuitively, we think that loyalty to a particular place implies loyalty to a set of values.
But in this case the clichés were wrong. It was Graham who made excuses for Trump’s abuse of power. It was Graham—a JAG Corps lawyer—who downplayed the evidence that the president had attempted to manipulate foreign courts and blackmail a foreign leader into launching a phony investigation into a political rival. It was Graham who abandoned his own stated support for bipartisanship and instead pushed for a hyperpartisan Senate Judiciary Committee investigation into former Vice President Joe Biden’s son. It was Graham who played golf with Trump, who made excuses for him on television, who supported the president even as he slowly destroyed the American alliances—with Europeans, with the Kurds—that Graham had defended all his life. By contrast, it was Romney who, in February, became the only Republican senator to break ranks with his colleagues, voting to impeach the president. “Corrupting an election to keep oneself in office,” he said, is “perhaps the most abusive and destructive violation of one’s oath of office that I can imagine.”
Read: How Mitt Romney decided Trump is guilty
One man proved willing to betray ideas and ideals that he had once stood for. The other refused. Why?
To the american reader, references to Vichy France, East Germany, fascists, and Communists may seem over-the-top, even ludicrous. But dig a little deeper, and the analogy makes sense. The point is not to compare Trump to Hitler or Stalin; the point is to compare the experiences of high-ranking members of the American Republican Party, especially those who work most closely with the White House, to the experiences of Frenchmen in 1940, or of East Germans in 1945, or of Czesław Miłosz in 1947. These are experiences of people who are forced to accept an alien ideology or a set of values that are in sharp conflict with their own.
Not even Trump’s supporters can contest this analogy, because the imposition of an alien ideology is precisely what he was calling for all along. Trump’s first statement as president, his inaugural address, was an unprecedented assault on American democracy and American values. Remember: He described America’s capital city, America’s government, America’s congressmen and senators—all democratically elected and chosen by Americans, according to America’s 227-year-old Constitution—as an “establishment” that had profited at the expense of “the people.” “Their victories have not been your victories,” he said. “Their triumphs have not been your triumphs.” Trump was stating, as clearly as he possibly could, that a new set of values was now replacing the old, though of course the nature of those new values was not yet clear.
Read: ‘American Carnage’: The Trump era begins
Almost as soon as he stopped speaking, Trump launched his first assault on fact-based reality, a long-undervalued component of the American political system. We are not a theocracy or a monarchy that accepts the word of the leader or the priesthood as law. We are a democracy that debates facts, seeks to understand problems, and then legislates solutions, all in accordance with a set of rules. Trump’s insistence—against the evidence of photographs, television footage, and the lived experience of thousands of people—that the attendance at his inauguration was higher than at Barack Obama’s first inauguration represented a sharp break with that American political tradition. Like the authoritarian leaders of other times and places, Trump effectively ordered not just his supporters but also apolitical members of the government bureaucracy to adhere to a blatantly false, manipulated reality. American politicians, like politicians everywhere, have always covered up mistakes, held back information, and made promises they could not keep. But until Trump was president, none of them induced the National Park Service to produce doctored photographs or compelled the White House press secretary to lie about the size of a crowd—or encouraged him to do so in front of a press corps that knew he knew he was lying.
It takes time to persuade people to abandon their existing value systems. The process usually begins slowly, with small changes.
The lie was petty, even ridiculous; that was partly why it was so dangerous. In the 1950s, when an insect known as the Colorado potato beetle appeared in Eastern European potato fields, Soviet-backed governments in the region triumphantly claimed that it had been dropped from the sky by American pilots, as a deliberate form of biological sabotage. Posters featuring vicious red-white-and-blue beetles went up all across Poland, East Germany, and Czechoslovakia. No one really believed the charge, including the people making it, as archives have subsequently shown. But that didn’t matter. The point of the posters was not to convince people of a falsehood. The point was to demonstrate the party’s power to proclaim and promulgate a falsehood. Sometimes the point isn’t to make people believe a lie—it’s to make people fear the liar.
These kinds of lies also have a way of building on one another. It takes time to persuade people to abandon their existing value systems. The process usually begins slowly, with small changes. Social scientists who have studied the erosion of values and the growth of corruption inside companies have found, for example, that “people are more likely to accept the unethical behavior of others if the behavior develops gradually (along a slippery slope) rather than occurring abruptly,” according to a 2009 article in the Journal of Experimental Social Psychology. This happens, in part, because most people have a built-in vision of themselves as moral and honest, and that self-image is resistant to change. Once certain behaviors become “normal,” then people stop seeing them as wrong.
This process happens in politics, too. In 1947, the Soviet military administrators in East Germany passed a regulation governing the activity of publishing houses and printers. The decree did not nationalize the printing presses; it merely demanded that their owners apply for licenses, and that they confine their work to books and pamphlets ordered by central planners. Imagine how a law like this—which did not speak of arrests, let alone torture or the Gulag—affected the owner of a printing press in Dresden, a responsible family man with two teenage children and a sickly wife. Following its passage, he had to make a series of seemingly insignificant choices. Would he apply for a license? Of course—he needed it to earn money for his family. Would he agree to confine his business to material ordered by the central planners? Yes to that too—what else was there to print?
William J. Burns: Polarized politics has infected American diplomacy
After that, other compromises follow. Though he dislikes the Communists—he just wants to stay out of politics—he agrees to print the collected works of Stalin, because if he doesn’t do it, others will. When he is asked by some disaffected friends to print a pamphlet critical of the regime, however, he refuses. Though he wouldn’t go to jail for printing it, his children might not be admitted to university, and his wife might not get her medication; he has to think about their welfare. Meanwhile, all across East Germany, other owners of other printing presses are making similar decisions. And after a while—without anyone being shot or arrested, without anyone feeling any particular pangs of conscience—the only books left to read are the ones approved by the regime.
The built-in vision of themselves as American patriots, or as competent administrators, or as loyal party members, also created a cognitive distortion that blinded many Republicans and Trump-administration officials to the precise nature of the president’s alternative value system. After all, the early incidents were so trivial. They overlooked the lie about the inauguration because it was silly. They ignored Trump’s appointment of the wealthiest Cabinet in history, and his decision to stuff his administration with former lobbyists, because that’s business as usual. They made excuses for Ivanka Trump’s use of a private email account, and for Jared Kushner’s conflicts of interest, because that’s just family stuff.
One step at a time, Trumpism fooled many of its most enthusiastic adherents. Recall that some of the original intellectual supporters of Trump—people like Steve Bannon, Michael Anton, and the advocates of “national conservatism,” an ideology invented, post hoc, to rationalize the president’s behavior—advertised their movement as a recognizable form of populism: an anti–Wall Street, anti-foreign-wars, anti-immigration alternative to the small-government libertarianism of the establishment Republican Party. Their “Drain the swamp” slogan implied that Trump would clean up the rotten world of lobbyists and campaign finance that distorts American politics, that he would make public debate more honest and legislation more fair. Had this actually been Trump’s ruling philosophy, it might well have posed difficulties for the Republican Party leadership in 2016, given that most of them had quite different values. But it would not necessarily have damaged the Constitution, and it would not necessarily have posed fundamental moral challenges to people in public life.
In practice, Trump has governed according to a set of principles very different from those articulated by his original intellectual supporters. Although some of his speeches have continued to use that populist language, he has built a Cabinet and an administration that serve neither the public nor his voters but rather his own psychological needs and the interests of his own friends on Wall Street and in business and, of course, his own family. His tax cuts disproportionately benefited the wealthy, not the working class. His shallow economic boom, engineered to ensure his reelection, was made possible by a vast budget deficit, on a scale Republicans once claimed to abhor, an enormous burden for future generations. He worked to dismantle the existing health-care system without offering anything better, as he’d promised to do, so that the number of uninsured people rose. All the while he fanned and encouraged xenophobia and racism, both because he found them politically useful and because they are part of his personal worldview.
More important, he has governed in defiance—and in ignorance—of the American Constitution, notably declaring, well into his third year in office, that he had “total” authority over the states. His administration is not merely corrupt, it is also hostile to checks, balances, and the rule of law. He has built a proto-authoritarian personality cult, firing or sidelining officials who have contradicted him with facts and evidence—with tragic consequences for public health and the economy. He threatened to fire a top Centers for Disease Control and Prevention official, Nancy Messonnier, in late February, after her too-blunt warnings about the coronavirus; Rick Bright, a top Health and Human Services official, says he was demoted after refusing to direct money to promote the unproven drug hydroxychloroquine. Trump has attacked America’s military, calling his generals “a bunch of dopes and babies,” and America’s intelligence services and law-enforcement officers, whom he has denigrated as the “deep state” and whose advice he has ignored. He has appointed weak and inexperienced “acting” officials to run America’s most important security institutions. He has systematically wrecked America’s alliances.
Adam Serwer: Trump gave police permission to be brutal
His foreign policy has never served any U.S. interests of any kind. Although some of Trump’s Cabinet ministers and media followers have tried to portray him as an anti-Chinese nationalist—and although foreign-policy commentators from all points on the political spectrum have, amazingly, accepted this fiction without questioning it—Trump’s true instinct, always, has been to side with foreign dictators, including Chinese President Xi Jinping. One former administration official who has seen Trump interact with Xi as well as with Russian President Vladimir Putin told me that it was like watching a lesser celebrity encounter a more famous one. Trump did not speak to them as the representative of the American people; he simply wanted their aura—of absolute power, of cruelty, of fame—to rub off on him and enhance his own image. This, too, has had fatal consequences. In January, Trump took Xi’s word when he said that COVID‑19 was “under control,” just as he had believed North Korea’s Kim Jong Un when he signed a deal on nuclear weapons. Trump’s fawning attitude toward dictators is his ideology at its purest: He meets his own psychological needs first; he thinks about the country last. The true nature of the ideology that Trump brought to Washington was not “America First,” but rather “Trump First.”
Maybe it isn’t surprising that the implications of “Trump First” were not immediately understood. After all, the Communist parties of Eastern Europe—or, if you want a more recent example, the Chavistas in Venezuela—all advertised themselves as advocates of equality and prosperity even though, in practice, they created inequality and poverty. But just as the truth about Hugo Chávez’s Bolivarian Revolution slowly dawned on people, it also became clear, eventually, that Trump did not have the interests of the American public at heart. And as they came to realize that the president was not a patriot, Republican politicians and senior civil servants began to equivocate, just like people living under an alien regime.
In retrospect, this dawning realization explains why the funeral of John McCain, in September 2018, looked, and by all accounts felt, so strange. Two previous presidents, one Republican and one Democrat—representatives of the old, patriotic political class—made speeches; the sitting president’s name was never mentioned. The songs and symbols of the old order were visible too: “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”; American flags; two of McCain’s sons in their officer’s uniforms, so very different from the sons of Trump. Writing in The New Yorker, Susan Glasser described the funeral as “a meeting of the Resistance, under vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows.” In truth, it bore an uncanny resemblance to the 1956 funeral of László Rajk, a Hungarian Communist and secret-police boss who had been purged and murdered by his comrades in 1949. Rajk’s wife had become an outspoken critic of the regime, and the funeral turned into a de facto political rally, helping to set off Hungary’s anti-Communist revolution a couple of weeks later.
Nothing quite so dramatic happened after McCain’s funeral. But it did clarify the situation. A year and a half into the Trump administration, it marked a turning point, the moment at which many Americans in public life began to adopt the strategies, tactics, and self-justifications that the inhabitants of occupied countries have used in the past—doing so even though the personal stakes were, relatively speaking, so low. Poles like Miłosz wound up in exile in the 1950s; dissidents in East Germany lost the right to work and study. In harsher regimes like that of Stalin’s Russia, public protest could lead to many years in a concentration camp; disobedient Wehrmacht officers were executed by slow strangulation.
Anne Applebaum: Creeping authoritarianism has finally prevailed
By contrast, a Republican senator who dares to question whether Trump is acting in the interests of the country is in danger of—what, exactly? Losing his seat and winding up with a seven-figure lobbying job or a fellowship at the Harvard Kennedy School? He might meet the terrible fate of Jeff Flake, the former Arizona senator, who has been hired as a contributor by CBS News. He might suffer like Romney, who was tragically not invited to the Conservative Political Action Conference, which this year turned out to be a reservoir of COVID‑19.
Nevertheless, 20 months into the Trump administration, senators and other serious-minded Republicans in public life who should have known better began to tell themselves stories that sound very much like those in Miłosz’s The Captive Mind. Some of these stories overlap with one another; some of them are just thin cloaks to cover self-interest. But all of them are familiar justifications of collaboration, recognizable from the past. Here are the most popular.
We can use this moment to achieve great things. In the spring of 2019, a Trump-supporting friend put me in touch with an administration official I will call “Mark,” whom I eventually met for a drink. I won’t give details, because we spoke informally, but in any case Mark did not leak information or criticize the White House. On the contrary, he described himself as a patriot and a true believer. He supported the language of “America First,” and was confident that it could be made real.
Several months later, I met Mark a second time. The impeachment hearings had begun, and the story of the firing of the American ambassador to Ukraine, Marie Yovanovitch, was then in the news. The true nature of the administration’s ideology—Trump First, not America First—was becoming more obvious. The president’s abuse of military aid to Ukraine and his attacks on civil servants suggested not a patriotic White House, but a president focused on his own interests. Mark did not apologize for the president, though. Instead, he changed the subject: It was all worth it, he told me, because of the Uighurs.
George Packer: Shouting into the institutional void
I thought I had misheard. The Uighurs? Why the Uighurs? I was unaware of anything that the administration had done to aid the oppressed Muslim minority in Xinjiang, China. Mark assured me that letters had been written, statements had been made, the president himself had been persuaded to say something at the United Nations. I doubted very much that the Uighurs had benefited from these empty words: China hadn’t altered its behavior, and the concentration camps built for the Uighurs were still standing. Nevertheless, Mark’s conscience was clear. Yes, Trump was destroying America’s reputation in the world, and yes, Trump was ruining America’s alliances, but Mark was so important to the cause of the Uighurs that people like him could, in good conscience, keep working for the administration.
Mark made me think of the story of Wanda Telakowska, a Polish cultural activist who in 1945 felt much the same as he did. Telakowska had collected and promoted folk art before the war; after the war she made the momentous decision to join the Polish Ministry of Culture. The Communist leadership was arresting and murdering its opponents; the nature of the regime was becoming clear. Telakowska nevertheless thought she could use her position inside the Communist establishment to help Polish artists and designers, to promote their work and get Polish companies to mass-produce their designs. But Polish factories, newly nationalized, were not interested in the designs she commissioned. Communist politicians, skeptical of her loyalty, made Telakowska write articles filled with Marxist gibberish. Eventually she resigned, having achieved nothing she set out to do. A later generation of artists condemned her as a Stalinist and forgot about her.
We can protect the country from the president. That, of course, was the argument used by “Anonymous,” the author of an unsigned New York Times op-ed published in September 2018. For those who have forgotten—a lot has happened since then—that article described the president’s “erratic behavior,” his inability to concentrate, his ignorance, and above all his lack of “affinity for ideals long espoused by conservatives: free minds, free markets and free people.” The “root of the problem,” Anonymous concluded, was “the president’s amorality.” In essence, the article described the true nature of the alternative value system brought into the White House by Trump, at a moment when not everybody in Washington understood it. But even as they came to understand that the Trump presidency was guided by the president’s narcissism, Anonymous did not quit, protest, make noise, or campaign against the president and his party.
Read: The saddest part of the anonymous ‘New York Times’ op-ed
Instead, Anonymous concluded that remaining inside the system, where they could cleverly distract and restrain the president, was the right course for public servants like them. Anonymous was not alone. Gary Cohn, at the time the White House economic adviser, told Bob Woodward that he’d removed papers from the president’s desk to prevent him from pulling out of a trade agreement with South Korea. James Mattis, Trump’s original secretary of defense, stayed in office because he thought he could educate the president about the value of America’s alliances, or at least protect some of them from destruction.
This kind of behavior has echoes in other countries and other times. A few months ago, in Venezuela, I spoke with Víctor Álvarez, a minister in one of Hugo Chávez’s governments and a high-ranking official before that. Álvarez explained to me the arguments he had made in favor of protecting some private industry, and his opposition to mass nationalization. Álvarez was in government from the late 1990s through 2006, a time when Chávez was stepping up the use of police against peaceful demonstrators and undermining democratic institutions. Still, Álvarez remained, hoping to curb Chávez’s worst economic instincts. Ultimately, he did quit, after concluding that Chávez had created a loyalty cult around himself—Álvarez called it a “subclimate” of obedience—and was no longer listening to anyone who disagreed.
Anne Applebaum: Venezuela is the eerie endgame of modern politics
In authoritarian regimes, many insiders eventually conclude that their presence simply does not matter. Cohn, after publicly agonizing when the president said there had been “fine people on both sides” at the deadly white-supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, finally quit when the president made the ruinous decision to put tariffs on steel and aluminum, a decision that harmed American businesses. Mattis reached his breaking point when the president abandoned the Kurds, America’s longtime allies in the war against the Islamic State.
But although both resigned, neither Cohn nor Mattis has spoken out in any notable way. (On June 3, after this article went to press, Mattis denounced Trump in an article on TheAtlantic.com.) Their presence inside the White House helped build Trump’s credibility among traditional Republican voters; their silence now continues to serve the president’s purposes. As for Anonymous, we don’t know whether he or she remains inside the administration. For the record, I note that Álvarez lives in Venezuela, an actual police state, and yet is willing to speak out against the system he helped create. Cohn, Mattis, and Anonymous, all living freely in the United States of America, have not been nearly so brave.
I, personally, will benefit. These, of course, are words that few people ever say out loud. Perhaps some do quietly acknowledge to themselves that they have not resigned or protested because it would cost them money or status. But no one wants a reputation as a careerist or a turncoat. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, even Markus Wolf sought to portray himself as an idealist. He had truly believed in Marxist-Leninist ideals, this infamously cynical man told an interviewer in 1996, and “I still believe in them.”
Many people in and around the Trump administration are seeking personal benefits. Many of them are doing so with a degree of openness that is startling and unusual in contemporary American politics, at least at this level. As an ideology, “Trump First” suits these people, because it gives them license to put themselves first. To pick a random example: Sonny Perdue, the secretary of agriculture, is a former Georgia governor and a businessman who, like Trump, famously refused to put his agricultural companies into a blind trust when he entered the governor’s office. Perdue has never even pretended to separate his political and personal interests. Since joining the Cabinet he has, with almost no oversight, distributed billions of dollars of “compensation” to farms damaged by Trump’s trade policies. He has stuffed his department with former lobbyists who are now in charge of regulating their own industries: Deputy Secretary Stephen Censky was for 21 years the CEO of the American Soybean Association; Brooke Appleton was a lobbyist for the National Corn Growers Association before becoming Censky’s chief of staff, and has since returned to that group; Kailee Tkacz, a member of a nutritional advisory panel, is a former lobbyist for the Snack Food Association. The list goes on and on, as would lists of similarly compromised people in the Department of Energy, the Environmental Protection Agency, and elsewhere.
David W. Blight: One week to save democracy
Perdue’s department also employs an extraordinary range of people with no experience in agriculture whatsoever. These modern apparatchiks, hired for their loyalty rather than their competence, include a long-haul truck driver, a country-club cabana attendant, the owner of a scented-candle company, and an intern at the Republican National Committee. The long-haul truck driver was paid $80,000 a year to expand markets for American agriculture abroad. Why was he qualified? He had a background in “hauling and shipping agricultural commodities.”
A friend told me that each time he sees Lindsey Graham, “he brags about having just met with Trump” while exhibiting “high school” levels of excitement, as if “a popular quarterback has just bestowed some attention on a nerdy debate-club leader.”
I must remain close to power. Another sort of benefit, harder to measure, has kept many people who object to Trump’s policies or behavior from speaking out: the intoxicating experience of power, and the belief that proximity to a powerful person bestows higher status. This, too, is nothing new. In a 1968 article for The Atlantic, James Thomson, an American East Asia specialist, brilliantly explained how power functioned inside the U.S. bureaucracy in the Vietnam era. When the war in Vietnam was going badly, many people did not resign or speak out in public, because preserving their “effectiveness”—“a mysterious combination of training, style, and connections,” as Thomson defined it—was an all-consuming concern. He called this “the effectiveness trap”:
The inclination to remain silent or to acquiesce in the presence of the great men—to live to fight another day, to give on this issue so that you can be “effective” on later issues—is overwhelming. Nor is it the tendency of youth alone; some of our most senior officials, men of wealth and fame, whose place in history is secure, have remained silent lest their connection with power be terminated.
In any organization, private or public, the boss will of course sometimes make decisions that his underlings dislike. But when basic principles are constantly violated, and people constantly defer resignation—“I can always fall on my sword next time”—then misguided policies go fatally unchallenged.
In other countries, the effectiveness trap has other names. In his recent book on Putinism, Between Two Fires, Joshua Yaffa describes the Russian version of this syndrome. The Russian language, he notes, has a word—prisposoblenets—that means “a person skilled in the act of compromise and adaptation, who intuitively understands what is expected of him and adjusts his beliefs and conduct accordingly.” In Putin’s Russia, anyone who wants to stay in the game—to remain close to power, to retain influence, to inspire respect—knows the necessity of making constant small changes to one’s language and behavior, of being careful about what one says and to whom one says it, of understanding what criticism is acceptable and what constitutes a violation of the unwritten rules. Those who violate these rules will not, for the most part, suffer prison—Putin’s Russia is not Stalin’s Russia—but they will experience a painful ejection from the inner circle.
For those who have never experienced it, the mystical pull of that connection to power, that feeling of being an insider, is difficult to explain. Nevertheless, it is real, and strong enough to affect even the highest-ranking, best-known, most influential people in America. John Bolton, Trump’s former national security adviser, named his still-unpublished book The Room Where It Happened, because, of course, that’s where he has always wanted to be. A friend who regularly runs into Lindsey Graham in Washington told me that each time they meet, “he brags about having just met with Trump” while exhibiting “high school” levels of excitement, as if “a popular quarterback has just bestowed some attention on a nerdy debate-club leader—the powerful big kid likes me! ” That kind of intense pleasure is hard to relinquish and even harder to live without.
LOL nothing matters. Cynicism, nihilism, relativism, amorality, irony, sarcasm, boredom, amusement—these are all reasons to collaborate, and always have been. Marko Martin, a novelist and travel writer who grew up in East Germany, told me that in the 1980s some of the East German bohemia, influenced by then-fashionable French intellectuals, argued that there was no such thing as morality or immorality, no such thing as good or evil, no such thing as right or wrong—“so you might as well collaborate.”
This instinct has an American variation. Politicians here who have spent their lives following rules and watching their words, calibrating their language, giving pious speeches about morality and governance, may feel a sneaking admiration for someone like Trump, who breaks all the rules and gets away with it. He lies; he cheats; he extorts; he refuses to show compassion, sympathy, or empathy; he does not pretend to believe in anything or to abide by any moral code. He simulates patriotism, with flags and gestures, but he does not behave like a patriot; his campaign scrambled to get help from Russia in 2016 (“If it’s what you say, I love it,” replied Donald Trump Jr., when offered Russian “dirt” on Hillary Clinton), and Trump himself called on Russia to hack his opponent. And for some of those at the top of his administration, and of his party, these character traits might have a deep, unacknowledged appeal: If there is no such thing as moral and immoral, then everyone is implicitly released from the need to obey any rules. If the president doesn’t respect the Constitution, then why should I? If the president can cheat in elections, then why can’t I? If the president can sleep with porn stars, then why shouldn’t I?
This, of course, was the insight of the “alt-right,” which understood the dark allure of amorality, open racism, anti-Semitism, and misogyny long before many others in the Republican Party. Mikhail Bakhtin, the Russian philosopher and literary critic, recognized the lure of the forbidden a century ago, writing about the deep appeal of the carnival, a space where everything banned is suddenly allowed, where eccentricity is permitted, where profanity defeats piety. The Trump administration is like that: Nothing means anything, rules don’t matter, and the president is the carnival king.
My side might be flawed, but the political opposition is much worse. When Marshal Philippe Pétain, the leader of collaborationist France, took over the Vichy government, he did so in the name of the restoration of a France that he believed had been lost. Pétain had been a fierce critic of the French Republic, and once he was in control, he replaced its famous creed—Liberté, égalité, fraternité, or “Liberty, equality, fraternity”—with a different slogan: Travail, famille, patrie, or “Work, family, fatherland.” Instead of the “false idea of the natural equality of man,” he proposed bringing back “social hierarchy”—order, tradition, and religion. Instead of accepting modernity, Pétain sought to turn back the clock.
By Pétain’s reckoning, collaboration with the Germans was not merely an embarrassing necessity. It was crucial, because it gave patriots the ability to fight the real enemy: the French parliamentarians, socialists, anarchists, Jews, and other assorted leftists and democrats who, he believed, were undermining the nation, robbing it of its vitality, destroying its essence. “Rather Hitler than Blum,” the saying went—Blum having been France’s socialist (and Jewish) prime minister in the late 1930s. One Vichy minister, Pierre Laval, famously declared that he hoped Germany would conquer all of Europe. Otherwise, he asserted, “Bolshevism would tomorrow establish itself everywhere.”
From the October 2001 issue: France’s downfall
To Americans, this kind of justification should sound very familiar; we have been hearing versions of it since 2016. The existential nature of the threat from “the left” has been spelled out many times. “Our liberal-left present reality and future direction is incompatible with human nature,” wrote Michael Anton, in “The Flight 93 Election.” The Fox News anchor Laura Ingraham has warned that “massive demographic changes” threaten us too: “In some parts of the country it does seem like the America that we know and love doesn’t exist anymore.” This is the Vichy logic: The nation is dead or dying—so anything you can do to restore it is justified. Whatever criticisms might be made of Trump, whatever harm he has done to democracy and the rule of law, whatever corrupt deals he might make while in the White House—all of these shrink in comparison to the horrific alternative: the liberalism, socialism, moral decadence, demographic change, and cultural degradation that would have been the inevitable result of Hillary Clinton’s presidency.
The Republican senators who are willing to express their disgust with Trump off the record but voted in February for him to remain in office all indulge a variation of this sentiment. (Trump enables them to get the judges they want, and those judges will help create the America they want.) So do the evangelical pastors who ought to be disgusted by Trump’s personal behavior but argue, instead, that the current situation has scriptural precedents. Like King David in the Bible, the president is a sinner, a flawed vessel, but he nevertheless offers a path to salvation for a fallen nation.
RELATED STORIES
A Warning From Europe: The Worst Is Yet to Come
The President Is Winning His War on American Institutions
We Are Living in a Failed State
The three most important members of Trump’s Cabinet—Vice President Mike Pence, Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, and Attorney General William Barr—are all profoundly shaped by Vichyite apocalyptic thinking. All three are clever enough to understand what Trumpism really means, that it has nothing to do with God or faith, that it is self-serving, greedy, and unpatriotic. Nevertheless, a former member of the administration (one of the few who did decide to resign) told me that both Pence and Pompeo “have convinced themselves that they are in a biblical moment.” All of the things they care about—outlawing abortion and same-sex marriage, and (though this is never said out loud) maintaining a white majority in America—are under threat. Time is growing short. They believe that “we are approaching the Rapture, and this is a moment of deep religious significance.” Barr, in a speech at Notre Dame, has also described his belief that “militant secularists” are destroying America, that “irreligion and secular values are being forced on people of faith.” Whatever evil Trump does, whatever he damages or destroys, at least he enables Barr, Pence, and Pompeo to save America from a far worse fate. If you are convinced we are living in the End Times, then anything the president does can be forgiven.
I am afraid to speak out. Fear, of course, is the most important reason any inhabitant of an authoritarian or totalitarian society does not protest or resign, even when the leader commits crimes, violates his official ideology, or forces people to do things that they know to be wrong. In extreme dictatorships like Nazi Germany and Stalin’s Russia, people fear for their lives. In softer dictatorships, like East Germany after 1950 and Putin’s Russia today, people fear losing their jobs or their apartments. Fear works as a motivation even when violence is a memory rather than a reality. When I was a student in Leningrad in the 1980s, some people still stepped back in horror when I asked for directions on the street, in my accented Russian: No one was going to be arrested for speaking to a foreigner in 1984, but 30 years earlier they might have been, and the cultural memory remained.
Republican leaders don’t seem to know that similar waves of fear have helped transform other democracies into dictatorships.
In the United States of America, it is hard to imagine how fear could be a motivation for anybody. There are no mass murders of the regime’s political enemies, and there never have been. Political opposition is legal; free press and free speech are guaranteed in the Constitution. And yet even in one of the world’s oldest and most stable democracies, fear is a motive. The same former administration official who observed the importance of apocalyptic Christianity in Trump’s Washington also told me, with grim disgust, that “they are all scared.”
They are scared not of prison, the official said, but of being attacked by Trump on Twitter. They are scared he will make up a nickname for them. They are scared that they will be mocked, or embarrassed, like Mitt Romney has been. They are scared of losing their social circles, of being disinvited to parties. They are scared that their friends and supporters, and especially their donors, will desert them. John Bolton has his own super PAC and a lot of plans for how he wants to use it; no wonder he resisted testifying against Trump. Former Speaker Paul Ryan is among the dozens of House Republicans who have left Congress since the beginning of this administration, in one of the most striking personnel turnovers in congressional history. They left because they hated what Trump was doing to their party—and the country. Yet even after they left, they did not speak out.
They are scared, and yet they don’t seem to know that this fear has precedents, or that it could have consequences. They don’t know that similar waves of fear have helped transform other democracies into dictatorships. They don’t seem to realize that the American Senate really could become the Russian Duma, or the Hungarian Parliament, a group of exalted men and women who sit in an elegant building, with no influence and no power. Indeed, we are already much closer to that reality than many could ever have imagined.
In february, many members of the Republican Party leadership, Republican senators, and people inside the administration used various versions of these rationales to justify their opposition to impeachment. All of them had seen the evidence that Trump had stepped over the line in his dealings with the president of Ukraine. All of them knew that he had tried to use American foreign-policy tools, including military funding, to force a foreign leader into investigating a domestic political opponent. Yet Republican senators, led by Mitch McConnell, never took the charges seriously. They mocked the Democratic House leaders who had presented the charges. They decided against hearing evidence. With the single exception of Romney, they voted in favor of ending the investigation. They did not use the opportunity to rid the country of a president whose operative value system—built around corruption, nascent authoritarianism, self-regard, and his family’s business interests—runs counter to everything that most of them claim to believe in.
Just a month later, in March, the consequences of that decision became suddenly clear. After the U.S. and the world were plunged into crisis by a coronavirus that had no cure, the damage done by the president’s self-focused, self-dealing narcissism—his one true “ideology”—was finally visible. He led a federal response to the virus that was historically chaotic. The disappearance of the federal government was not a carefully planned transfer of power to the states, as some tried to claim, or a thoughtful decision to use the talents of private companies. This was the inevitable result of a three-year assault on professionalism, loyalty, competence, and patriotism. Tens of thousands of people have died, and the economy has been ruined.
Anne Applebaum: The rest of the world is laughing at Trump
This utter disaster was avoidable. If the Senate had removed the president by impeachment a month earlier; if the Cabinet had invoked the Twenty-Fifth Amendment as soon as Trump’s unfitness became clear; if the anonymous and off-the-record officials who knew of Trump’s incompetence had jointly warned the public; if they had not, instead, been so concerned about maintaining their proximity to power; if senators had not been scared of their donors; if Pence, Pompeo, and Barr had not believed that God had chosen them to play special roles in this “biblical moment”—if any of these things had gone differently, then thousands of deaths and a historic economic collapse might have been avoided.
The price of collaboration in America has already turned out to be extraordinarily high. And yet, the movement down the slippery slope continues, just as it did in so many occupied countries in the past. First Trump’s enablers accepted lies about the inauguration; now they accept terrible tragedy and the loss of American leadership in the world. Worse could follow. Come November, will they tolerate—even abet—an assault on the electoral system: open efforts to prevent postal voting, to shut polling stations, to scare people away from voting? Will they countenance violence, as the president’s social-media fans incite demonstrators to launch physical attacks on state and city officials?
Each violation of our Constitution and our civic peace gets absorbed, rationalized, and accepted by people who once upon a time knew better. If, following what is almost certain to be one of the ugliest elections in American history, Trump wins a second term, these people may well accept even worse. Unless, of course, they decide not to.
When I visited Marianne Birthler, she didn’t think it was interesting to talk about collaboration in East Germany, because everybody collaborated in East Germany. So I asked her about dissidence instead: When all of your friends, all of your teachers, and all of your employers are firmly behind the system, how do you find the courage to oppose it? In her answer, Birthler resisted the use of the word courage; just as people can adapt to corruption or immorality, she told me, they can slowly learn to object as well. The choice to become a dissident can easily be the result of “a number of small decisions that you take”—to absent yourself from the May Day parade, for example, or not to sing the words of the party hymn. And then, one day, you find yourself irrevocably on the other side. Often, this process involves role models. You see people whom you admire, and you want to be like them. It can even be “selfish.” “You want to do something for yourself,” Birthler said, “to respect yourself.”
For some people, the struggle is made easier by their upbringing. Marko Martin’s parents hated the East German regime, and so did he. His father was a conscientious objector, and so was he. As far back as the Weimar Republic, his great-grandparents had been part of the “anarcho-syndicalist” anti-Communist left; he had access to their books. In the 1980s, he refused to join the Free German Youth, the Communist youth organization, and as a result he could not go to university. He instead embarked on a vocational course, to train to be an electrician (after refusing to become a butcher). In his electrician-training classes, one of the other students pulled him aside and warned him, subtly, that the Stasi was collecting information on him: “It’s not necessary that you tell me all the things you have in mind.” He was eventually allowed to emigrate, in May 1989, just a few months before the fall of the Berlin Wall.
What would it take for Republican leaders to admit to themselves that Trump’s loyalty cult is destroying the country they claim to love?
In America we also have our Marianne Birthlers, our Marko Martins: people whose families taught them respect for the Constitution, who have faith in the rule of law, who believe in the importance of disinterested public service, who have values and role models from outside the world of the Trump administration. Over the past year, many such people have found the courage to stand up for what they believe. A few have been thrust into the limelight. Fiona Hill—an immigrant success story and a true believer in the American Constitution—was not afraid to testify at the House’s impeachment hearings, nor was she afraid to speak out against Republicans who were promulgating a false story of Ukrainian interference in the 2016 election. “This is a fictional narrative that has been perpetrated and propagated by the Russian security services themselves,” she said in her congressional testimony. “The unfortunate truth is that Russia was the foreign power that systematically attacked our democratic institutions in 2016.”
Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Vindman—another immigrant success story and another true believer in the American Constitution—also found the courage, first to report on the president’s improper telephone call with his Ukrainian counterpart, which Vindman had heard as a member of the National Security Council, and then to speak publicly about it. In his testimony, he made explicit reference to the values of the American political system, so different from those in the place where he was born. “In Russia,” he said, “offering public testimony involving the president would surely cost me my life.” But as “an American citizen and public servant … I can live free of fear for mine and my family’s safety.” A few days after the Senate impeachment vote, Vindman was physically escorted out of the White House by representatives of a vengeful president who did not appreciate Vindman’s hymn to American patriotism—although retired Marine Corps General John Kelly, the president’s former chief of staff, apparently did. Vindman’s behavior, Kelly said in a speech a few days later, was “exactly what we teach them to do from cradle to grave. He went and told his boss what he just heard.”
Read: John Kelly finally lets loose on Trump
But both Hill and Vindman had some important advantages. Neither had to answer to voters, or to donors. Neither had prominent status in the Republican Party. What would it take, by contrast, for Pence or Pompeo to conclude that the president bears responsibility for a catastrophic health and economic crisis? What would it take for Republican senators to admit to themselves that Trump’s loyalty cult is destroying the country they claim to love? What would it take for their aides and subordinates to come to the same conclusion, to resign, and to campaign against the president? What would it take, in other words, for someone like Lindsey Graham to behave like Wolfgang Leonhard?
If, as Stanley Hoffmann wrote, the honest historian would have to speak of “collaborationisms,” because the phenomenon comes in so many variations, the same is true of dissidence, which should probably be described as “dissidences.” People can suddenly change their minds because of spontaneous intellectual revelations like the one Wolfgang Leonhard had when walking into his fancy nomenklatura dining room, with its white tablecloths and three-course meals. They can also be persuaded by outside events: rapid political changes, for example. Awareness that the regime had lost its legitimacy is part of what made Harald Jaeger, an obscure and until that moment completely loyal East German border guard, decide on the night of November 9, 1989, to lift the gates and let his fellow citizens walk through the Berlin Wall—a decision that led, over the next days and months, to the end of East Germany itself. Jaeger’s decision was not planned; it was a spontaneous response to the fearlessness of the crowd. “Their will was so great,” he said years later, of those demanding to cross into West Berlin, “there was no other alternative than to open the border.”
But these things are all intertwined, and not easy to disentangle. The personal, the political, the intellectual, and the historical combine differently within every human brain, and the outcomes can be unpredictable. Leonhard’s “sudden” revelation may have been building for years, perhaps since his mother’s arrest. Jaeger was moved by the grandeur of the historical moment on that night in November, but he also had more petty concerns: He was annoyed at his boss, who had not given him clear instructions about what to do.
Could some similar combination of the petty and the political ever convince Lindsey Graham that he has helped lead his country down a blind alley? Perhaps a personal experience could move him, a prod from someone who represents his former value system—an old Air Force buddy, say, whose life has been damaged by Trump’s reckless behavior, or a friend from his hometown. Perhaps it requires a mass political event: When the voters begin to turn, maybe Graham will turn with them, arguing, as Jaeger did, that “their will was so great … there was no other alternative.” At some point, after all, the calculus of conformism will begin to shift. It will become awkward and uncomfortable to continue supporting “Trump First,” especially as Americans suffer from the worst recession in living memory and die from the coronavirus in numbers higher than in much of the rest of the world.
Anne Applebaum: A study in leadership
Or perhaps the only antidote is time. In due course, historians will write the story of our era and draw lessons from it, just as we write the history of the 1930s, or of the 1940s. The Miłoszes and the Hoffmanns of the future will make their judgments with the clarity of hindsight. They will see, more clearly than we can, the path that led the U.S. into a historic loss of international influence, into economic catastrophe, into political chaos of a kind we haven’t experienced since the years leading up to the Civil War. Then maybe Graham—along with Pence, Pompeo, McConnell, and a whole host of lesser figures—will understand what he has enabled.
In the meantime, I leave anyone who has the bad luck to be in public life at this moment with a final thought from Władysław Bartoszewski, who was a member of the wartime Polish underground, a prisoner of both the Nazis and the Stalinists, and then, finally, the foreign minister in two Polish democratic governments. Late in his life—he lived to be 93—he summed up the philosophy that had guided him through all of these tumultuous political changes. It was not idealism that drove him, or big ideas, he said. It was this: Warto być przyzwoitym—“Just try to be decent.” Whether you were decent—that’s what will be remembered.
This article appears in the July/August 2020 print edition with the headline “The Collaborators.”
ANNE APPLEBAUM
is a staff writer at The Atlantic, a senior fellow of the Agora Institute at Johns Hopkins University, and the author of
Twilight of Democracy: The Seductive Lure of Authoritarianism
.
1 note
·
View note