#I've already begun my research lol

[starlightbelle]

What if I made Corazon's shawl/poncho thing from that Log Collection illustration my next knitting project?? 👀

[thedragonagebigbang]

Bang Creator Interview: Tumblr: @thraaaaaaaanduuuuuuuuiiiiiiiiil  |  AO3: chissprincess

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

ONE WEIRD TRICK FOR MAKING FRIENDS IN THEDAS

Vowelthranduil and Dema talk about that OTHER dragon media, early fandom experiences (fantheater, anyone?), and the supremacy of the Reluctant Hero trope

Dema: So! The collaboration period just began. Has this given you a fresh burst of energy for your fic?

vowelthranduil: It's definitely made me think more about my fic. The timing has been weird though because unfortunately, someone over on the House of the Dragon team also made the decision to cast Ewan Mitchell as Aemond and then made the further decision to allow the man to speak entire sentences in High Valyrian a few weeks ago. Up until that moment I was an entirely casual Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon fan but when that scene happened I could literally feel the casual leaving my body. So good news, I'm definitely in fic writing mode and thinking about fics and that includes my DABB fic! Bad news, it also includes like 3 House of the Dragon fics. My poor poor brain lol.

Dema: Hey. Momentum is momentum 😂For a long fic like this, do you have a full outline, or are you being guided by Vibes?

vowelthranduil: For this particular fic I do have a bit of an outline. There's a timeline I'm following of my character's life that I'm trying to follow. But to be honest a lot of it is also Vibes. I definitely don't look at the timeline or any kind of outline as set in stone. I'll change things as needed or if I feel like I have a better idea or if I feel like something just isn't working out. The nice thing about this fic is I know where my ending point is, which is something I often struggle with in my other longfics.

Dema:  Especially when your attention is divided between two very different fandoms, how do you get in the zone for this fic? Or are you allowing some of that HotD inspiration to infiltrate your DA fic?

vowelthranduil: Nah HotD and DA, despite both involving dragons, are very much in Never the Twain Shall Meet territory. Music is a big thing for me, in any of my fics. I have entire playlists for my HotD fics and my other DA fic. I don't really have a set playlist for this one, but I have lots of music that gives the proper vibes and is already sorted into some other easily accessible playlist so I can just bring that up. Or I'll go back and read what I already have, look at some of the art I have of my OC, or even just do a little DA-based research. I don't have the time to get into a full DAI playthrough right now or I would do that too.

Dema:  Have you done a Big Bang before or is this your first?

vowelthranduil: I've done smaller bangs, and I did try to do the WIP Big Bang a couple of years ago, but I couldn't keep up with it between school and mental health issues. I'm not in school now though. I work, but not having homework is super helpful. I come home and have time to do other stuff instead. Like, you know, write fics for Big Bangs mwahahaha

Dema: Do you try to set aside specific time to write?

vowelthranduil: I have tried in the past but I'm definitely not organized enough for that. Plus when something inevitably happens and I don't write at the appointed time or don't write for the appointed amount of time, I just feel guilty, and guilt is the inspiration and motivation killer.

Dema:  Is there anything that reliably creates a writing-mood? Or do you find the muse strikes randomly?

vowelthranduil: It can be pretty random I find. New music will sometimes do it, but unfortunately, there's no guarantee that the new music will be in any way helpful with creating the muse for a particular project so I can't rely on that. I can sometimes use music I already have to trigger the muse when I sit down to write but like...the general "I want to write now" feeling has to already be there. Otherwise it just turns into a long daydream session and I can lose a whole day to that easily without ever writing a single word if I'm not careful.

Dema:  How long have you been writing, fanfic or otherwise? Have you always been a writer?

vowelthranduil: I mean I can definitely remember writing as a kid, doing creative writing projects in school and stuff. I didn't really like it very much because I felt really confined. Like I remember this one time in Catholic school we were writing stories and I wanted to write something with a lot of magic but this was Catholic school, so I didn't dare do that, I had to turn it into something that would be acceptable to the teachers there. So I felt really stifled. I didn't even find out about fanfiction until I was about 14 or 15, when we finally got internet at my house (and this would have been around...like the late 90s in a pretty rural area). I was in the Star Wars fandom at the time, though of course I wouldn't have described it that way because I had never heard the term "fandom" before and didn't really have access to a broader fan community outside of my immediate friend group (for anything, not just Star Wars). But yeah once we got the internet I found fanfiction pretty quickly. I don't remember how exactly. But it was really cool and to be honest, it was something I was already doing sort of. You know how kids invent their own stories to play out alone or with their friends, that kind of thing. And I had been reading the Star Wars novels at the time, and I wrote these really corny plays that my friends and I actually performed. So I guess it depends on how exactly you want to define "fanfiction." If we go by a strict definition of a story, then the first one was probably when I was 14/15 after I found my first fics on the internet, and it was a self-insert fic of the most obvious caliber. If we include those plays, then a little early, around 13. If we go by the first ones I shared online....probably 16/17? But I legit don't remember for sure on that. And I've been doing academic writing for ages, like all of my degrees are in the humanities and social sciences, really writing-heavy fields, so I legit don't remember a time except my very young years when I haven't been writing SOMETHING regularly. (Hey look at that, I wrote you a novel.)

Dema:  I want to know more about these plays. That is SO cute and so lovely.

vowelthranduil: Oh god. They were like…I'm trying to even remember anything at all about them right now lol

Dema:  What part did you play? Do you remember that?

vowelthranduil: I think I legit wrote them with all of my friends in mind as the characters. Like I was the bounty hunter who was originally working for the Empire (and I was a Falleen, not human, so I was basically covered in green face paint) and....I was hunting Luke Skywalker for some reason. Because this is Star Wars so like, of course. And my best friend/boyfriend (look I wrote a trilogy and we started dating somewhere in this timeline lol) played Luke and wouldn't you know it but my character married Luke somewhere in all of this/ Oh and we defeated the Empire I'm pretty sure. Because...of course we did?

Dema: Incredible. I love it

vowelthranduil: Oh I wrote a play based on a Midsummer Night's Dream at one point too. God when was that? Must have been around the same time.

Dema:  A Star Wars play??

vowelthranduil:  No, this was straight Shakespeare fanfiction

Dema:  Oh, even better

vowelthranduil: We made sets out of cardboard boxes and stuff it was truly wild

Dema: I am delighted. When did you get involved with the DA fandom?

vowelthranduil: I THINK it was around the time DA2 came out? I'm actually not 100% sure except that I know DAI was nowhere near out yet. Like I don't even think it was a rumor. I had a friend who played DAO and was always talking about it and how great the romances were and stuff. I really wanted to play but I was super nervous because up until then I had only ever really played the Sims and like, Oregon Trail (the super old-school one and also Oregon Trail 2 I think). And of course DAO was kind of expensive so I was really nervous to spend the money on something I might hate, especially since I had tried Skyrim and not really gotten into it. But then it went on sale for like $5 around Black Friday (but also that low price is what makes me think this was proooooooooobably right before the DA2 release) so I decided I could take the chance for $5. It's either the best $5 I ever spent or definitely in the top 10 of best $5 I've ever spent.

Dema:  Do you have a favorite game in the franchise?

vowelthranduil: Oh DAI definitely. I'm really attached to my Lavellan.

Dema:  Is it the character-driven plot that made these games feel different than games like Skyrim? I do think it's so interesting how you're very multi-fandom but DA is the only game-fandom you've mentioned.

vowelthranduil: Yeah I don't really know what it is either. Some things just really grab me sometimes but I'm never entirely sure why. Like I've always been really into Star Wars but I never got into Star Trek. I enjoy some of the other big sci-fi franchises like Battlestar Galactica but I wouldn't say I'm "in the fandom." Until very recently the big book/movie/TV-show-based fantasy fandom was Tolkien. I've always kind of assumed that was a right-place-right-time kind of situation, i.e. my first real exposure to it was the Peter Jackson movie in 2001 and it just kind of hit me at juuuuuuuuuuuuust the right point in my life to become a part of me or something. What the hell was it about Ewan Mitchell speaking a few lines of a conlang that dragged me out of 13 years of being a casual into joining the HotD/GoT fandom? Damned if I know. So yeah, I'm not entirely sure what it is about Dragon Age that gets me vs. other games that by all accounts feel like they should be similar. Maybe it's that there's something relatable about them for me? I'm not really sure, kind of thinking out loud here as it were. But like in DAO I think it's kind of easy to relate to someone like Alistair, right? Like he's a nice, kind of goofy guy trying to find his way in the world. In DA2 we've got some real, recognizable struggles happening, and sure they're couched in these very fantasy tropes of "magic" and "elves" but a lot of the basic ideas are very real-world. I suppose in DAI there's something very similar to what's going on in LotR, where you've got some poor unsuspecting little guy who just kind of gets chucked into events whether they want to be there or not but then they get to choose over and over to do the right thing, perhaps even at their own expense, and save everyone in the process. It's an entirely thankless task for them and the world is never going to remember them properly (as we find out in Jaws of Hakkon -- rather painfully if you're playing a Lavellan imo) but someone has to do it and it might as well be you. Er, them....You know what I mean.

Dema:  Yeah! And I get what you mean. Timing has such a big impact and it's fascinating how some media clicks and others don't. Alright we're down to the wire here so if you've read the other interviews, I think you know what I'm about to ask 😂Do you have a misleading clickbait title for your bang fic you could share with me?

Vowelthranduil: lol omg

Dema:  Without giving anything major away that would identify your pitch lol

vowelthranduil: So coming up with titles is literally the worst, hardest, and least-favorite part of writing fics for me. I currently have a doc titled "absolutely the most bizarre fic concept I have ever had" and it's literally just...a romance fic with a slightly odd pairing lol

Dema:  Well. You definitely do not HAVE to do this lol

vowelthranduil: So for this one I guess I might go with something like ONE WEIRD TRICK FOR MAKING FRIENDS IN THEDAS

Dema: Perfect! I don't think we have a one weird trick yet! I honestly love "absolutely the most bizarre fic concept I have ever had," that made me laugh. Thank you so much for taking the time to chat with me today!vowelthranduil: Yeah thanks for interviewing me!

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Hello again, I'm the one who sent you such a long text with questionable English lol

First of all thank you for your reply, I was so touched to hear that you liked my comments so much and that you were able to understand my text well.

But speaking of the chapter, finally we have Itadori and seriously I love him and now I'll have some interactions with him and Rinko, looking forward to it!!!

And I see that Rinko has already begun her work of bribing the children, she knows how to win anyone over, I love that about her.

Now I'm tense about what's to come, but I trust you, I know I'll probably cry a lot, maybe get angry, but it'll be worth it.

Thanks for another chapter.

Aah since I think I might be coming back to comment more often, you can call me May, I'll be identifying myself that way, hugs.

May! Hello! Welcome back!

I'm so very, very glad you messaged again! It was not questionable English whatsoever 😊

(A quick note for any sweet Anon who wants their own lil sign-off, I have seen other accounts have their anon's choose EMOJIS and I love that idea so if you want, please feel free to choose one!)

I'm a wordy lil bitch so I've put the rest below the cut! 💕

Read Another Level on AO3 :)

I'll be honest, there aren't a ton of interactions with Yuuji yet. Rinko doesn't get much of a chance to interact with him because she's getting so damn busy.

She is in high demand in the private sector, and she's been accepting jobs from Tokyo Tech and Kyoto Tech on top of that. Girl be working herself to the bone.

BUT! She does like how easygoing he is and how happy he seems despite everything. And she adores that Gojo likes the kid so much and that Yuuji actually seems to like Gojo just as much!

While Rinko thinks it's hilarious that Maki and Megumi don't like him, she knows it hurts his feelings sometimes, which is why she stops them sometimes because she doesn't want it to be real animosity.

Thank you again for sending another message! They've both made me so happy to see, it brought a giant smile to my face seeing this one in my inbox 😊🥹 I wasn't lying about that last message, I sent it to my best friend and cried with her.

To be a lil too personal and overshare a bit: I've been writing for the better part of 10 or so years, but Another Level is the first project I've received such positive feedback on besides research papers while I was in school. Fics I posted in the past never did very well (but I think my mistake was being on Tumblr only lol though I was on Wattpad back in the day 🤔🤔 oof that was a long time ago 😳).

It genuinely makes my heart so happy to know that the characters I made on a dumb whim bring other people as much joy as they do me.

Thanks for sticking with me and with Rinko! (Gojo is cool too, he can stay too I guess 😂)

[cannibalinc]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

I was thoughtfully tagged by @racfoam! Thank you <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

25 works

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

318,492 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly HP and Teen Wolf. I also used to write a lot of Naruto about fifteen years ago.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Rigmarole Dance - Harrymort soulmate AU

Gentle Roar - Steter omegaverse mating run AU

As Portioned from a Whole - Harrymort dystopian Voldemort raises Harry AU

Anthropological - Steter xeno wolf rape oneshot

Id Est - Steter smutty 800 word drabble. Surprised this one is on the list lol

5. Do you respond to comments? Why? Why not?

Sometimes! If someone asks a question or comments something particularly conversational. I go through waves. 

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uuuh this is hard. Angsty for who? hahaha

Based on reader response and bookmark notes I've noticed, either Paradisus, a Harrymort Volddmort wins AU in Draco Malfoy's POV, or Be Thyself, a soulmate AU in Lily's POV, seem to be the endings that bother people the most. I get a lot of 'this was great, I'll never read it again' lmaaooo

But a LOT of my works are open ended or end with one half still in captivity/unhappy. The other half is happy though! :D

Honeyguide, splits your skin, Research and Development, etc all have this "bad ending."

(*The angiest ending I'll ever write is still a WIP, but it's coming.)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The Rigmarole Dance for sure. It's light, funny, has the happiest feelings.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Sometimes.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I write mostly smut. Lots of non-con, lots of wet and messy, lots of monster cocks.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't think I've ever written a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeah, a few times unfortunately.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yep

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I had a really fun steter omegaverse dystopia project with a friend that we discussed heavily but never actually started. We called it the trash diamond. It involved amputation, conditioning and programming, you know the fun stuff haha. I still hope to write it.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Harrymort <3

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

...I will finish all my WIPs gdi lmao

16. What are your writing strengths?

Atmosphere/prose. Recently, dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action. I struggle between pretty phrases and conveying immediacy.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Yes! It's great for making the POV character and readers feel alienated when they can't understand what's being said. Also if you want to establish a character is pretentious.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ooooh. I think InuYasha in the 2000s.

20. Favourite fics you’ve written?

I'm a self-indulgent writer, so pretty much everything I write is for me.

Research and Development was an experimental challenge for me that I'm really proud of. It's told in a dissociated first person POV through "scientific" logs and follows Voldemort's experiment on Harry and the deterioration of his indifferent observations as he becomes more obsessed with Harry.

I'm also really proud of Embryo, a fic idea I've been writing and rewriting for over ten years that I've begun to actually post. I've put a lot of work and research into it in order to capture Tom Riddle's voice and intelligence. It's in his POV, in the 1940s, and Harry shows up as a mysterious student no one can seem to explain or even remember long enough to answer Tom's questions about him.

I think racfoam already tagged a lot of other writers I know. Tagging @vdoshu @metalomagnetic @lordansketil @crowcrowcrowthing @vestiges-of-light and anyone else who wants to!

[dredshirtroberts]

because i need to talk about a Good Thing for a second and get my mind out of the Negative Spiral, let's talk about how my attempts at managing all my various ailments is going

very specifically just the one where i'm trying to add in a regular, high-content source of both iron and potassium. On the recommendation of a dear mutual, I have begun adding black strap molasses into my day - generally by mixing it with some sort of Sweet Treat, like hot cocoa, or ice cream. Just like a spoonful drizzled on top of ice cream and then the rest of it consumed as quickly as possible out of the bowl of the spoon with the correct ratio of ice cream instead, because it's like chocolate syrup except it tastes not as good.

listen. the fact that i enjoy the taste of it as much as i am really says something to how i'm missing several vital components that it is providing me, cause look. Molasses tastes just ever so slightly always like it smells and it smells like BAD. it's burnt, essentially, and that's like part of the whole thing of it. It's supposed to be like that, or else it's not as full of nutrients or something. I looked it up when I was researching this, i can't be arsed to remember details and shit right now.

it's more hidden in the hot cocoa (especially if you use the actual real amount of hot cocoa mix you're supposed to, instead of like half that like i was doing and it still tasted alright) and as the days cool i'll probably end up doing more and more hot drink based options rather than frozen treat based options.

but all that to say, you know I think it might be working.

Now, admittedly, I did start this most in depth right before and then all throughout my period - which is when I need it the most, honestly so like. A+ timing for that part of it, but maybe a C on the timing as relates to actual data. But! i'm relatively sure my dark circles under my eyes (almost assuredly caused by low iron, which i knew at one point, but like. i'm without more than i'm with so a guy forgets, y'know?) are way less dark than they were about a week, week and a half ago when I started this journey. I don't have evidence of this, because i didn't think to take a before picture specifically, and also all the pictures i've taken of myself today have me wearing really dark under-eye makeup to hide the dark circles on purpose, so like. y'know. grains of salt (necessary for handling my POTS), etc.

like. my period was rough (per my metrics), don't get me wrong. It sucked and it hurt the whole time, and still does because i'm just one day off it, let's not get ahead of ourselves. but like, in other ways it was abnormally smooth? like it was pretty standard, maybe a little more focused in the cramp and full body pain zones, but like, in a way that is anticipateable for me. but like. While i was zonkered as usual i was maybe less zonkered shortly after my potion of make-more-blood (molasses addition to foodstuffs), and like over all kind of in good levels of fatigue? like yes fatigued but not as bad as it's been sometimes.

i'm gonna keep up with it (i am FLYIN through this molasses y'all - 1tbs a day is a lot actually) and see how it does. my dark circles are my main metric for measuring how well my iron levels are doing and i'm gonna be real with you guys, it's been a minute since i've had a noticable difference in the darkness of them and the fact that i feel like there's already a change maybe is something.

as soon as the molassess stops tasting kinda good, i'll know i've figured out my iron levels lol. until then, looks like me and Grandma's Molasses are getting cozy this winter.

[someplace-that-is-else]

GOOD AFTERNOON, LIKERS!!!!

Ah...the #accidental nap. I hate them. But as I've gotten older, they do seem to come frequently. Usually, after I've ate. Whether a meal, snack, or a random thing. It recalled for me the days of the 'chair of doom' before the #pandemic. Lol.

It was a setback for me. Setbacks can be frustrating. There's nothing like having a plan for yourself for the day. And one thing...and BOOM!!! You are steps behind.

Still...things got done. Steps behind led to maneuvering to get all the things planned done. So setbacks...can be challenges like that. And eventually, you get finished. What did I mean?

Well, let's get into it. Otherwise known as EDITING, TYPING, and WRITING!!!

EDITING. Well...I had mentioned #Surprises. Hehe.

This week continued my finishing touches on HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES. It had been narrowed down to two steps left. Having a look at the proof aka the #physical copy of my forthcoming book. And...pricing.

So yes, HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES was done.

So...who wants a cover reveal?

TYPING. An idea has started to form for the next elusive #blog.

With HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES only a few steps away from being done, my mind was already looking for new things to work on.

My original plan for my next blog had been derailed. There was still research that I needed to do. And my time had been focused on HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES. So a different #angle was being called for. Funny to mention different angles because an artist friend of mine was just discussing that with me the other weekend.

So...let's angle.

WRITING. Speaking of angling...I have decided what I would be working on next.

And surprise, surprise...it was back to the #darkenverse for me. LOL!!!

I had been missing my characters a bit as I worked on HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES. And I definitely had some #plans for them moving forward.

I was still a long way from starting on Book 4 in my DARKENED series. I know, I know. However, I was adamant about what my next Darkenverse projects were going to be. And they were tie-ins. If I had learned anything from working on HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES, it was being able to focus my time on one project. And with it done, I definitely wanted to #Apply my renewed motivation to another project. It felt odd that my projects would be crossing, but I would still be busy.

In fact...I've already begun...

[zepskies]

Aww thank you so much!! I'm glad to hear that you're excited to read the rest of this little series, because I've been very excited to start sharing it with you guys! 🥰💜

More on your lovely comments below the cut:

Also thank you for that compliment on the setting being immersive. I've never written a Western before, but I love history and the time period fascinates me. I did put a lot of effort into researching the time period, the culture, etc., as well as the look of the banner art and stuff. Canva is an awesome tool! lol

You don't know how big my smile was at Baby's appearance. I love how you always incorporate characters, objects and details from the original Supernatural universe and incorporate them into your stories.

Aww yes!!! I loved including Baby -- her little reveal was one of my favorite moments. I was partly imagining Black Beauty. lol

With AUs I try to include key details from the canon into it to have those fun little easter egg fun moments!

I can already tell I'll absolutely love Mila. There's already so much action, can't wait to see where the road is headed.

Oh thank you!! I haven't written an OFC in a while, so it was very fun for me to create her character. You'll definitely learn more about her as we go along, especially in Part 2. Our adventure has really only just begun!

Thank you again so much for reviewing Part 1 and reblogging, friend! 💕💕

The Honorable Choice - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I thought this idea might be a good fit for this @jacklesversebingo prompt.

Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Racism/racial slurs, attempted sexual assault (not successful), protective Dean, angst, some violence and some action.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Pride & Prejudice

June 1872

Dean hears some of his men shouting, along with the telltale cracking of bone that would make a less seasoned soldier wince. He spares a look to Benny, his Lieutenant, and sets down his glass of whiskey.

Dean’s path takes him brusquely out of his office and toward the stables. He grabs his gun and his hat on the way there, setting the latter on his head.

Is it too much to ask for one night where he can drink in peace?

Dean comes to find a young woman being detained by two of his men, Kline and Novak. Roman sports a bloody nose and his eye is already beginning to swell. The woman fights against their hold.

Even under the pale moonlight, Dean notes the way she’s dressed: a deer skin dress cinched at the waist, over thin pants and shoes. He surveys her tan skin, her black hair that blends into the night, twisted into a long braid, and the anger in her dark eyes.

“What have we got here?” Dean says. He stows his gun in its holster as he approaches her, resting his hands at his belt.

“I caught her breaking into the stables, Captain,” Roman says. He prods with a hiss at his busted nose while trying to stem the bleeding. That’s going to be a bad break.

She remains tight lipped, stubborn. 

“Probably doesn’t even understand English. Savage bitch,” he says. Dean shoots him an impassive look to cover up his annoyance.

“Put a cork in it, Roman,” he orders. Then, he focuses back on her. “You’re a Lakota, aren’t you?”

Aside from their main mission here in the Dakota Territory, the Colonel has been fixed on fighting back against the Lakota Indians, especially after they sabotaged the supply line last month.

The proud tilt of the woman’s chin is her only answer to Dean’s question. Her gaze drags down his form with disdain, like he’s the savage. His mouth twitches mirthlessly. 

“The Lakota rear up their own horses pretty damn well. Why would you want to steal one of ours?” he asks.

She glances away from him, first at her feet, then over at the camp’s latest “guest.” Dean, Benny, and a few of his men wrangled up a horse a few days ago. He’s a beautiful Kiger mustang with a nasty mean streak. He barely got through a trim this afternoon, and almost took a chunk out of Rufus when he tried to brand the horse.

The Colonel ordered them to tie the horse up to a post just outside the corral—no food or water for three days. He’d turned to Dean with a firm set to his face and issued a single order.

“Break him.”

Now, Dean catches the furtive look the Lakota woman gives the horse, who flicks his tail. The animal stares right at her, as if into her eyes.

“Oh, don’t tell me you here for him,” Dean says with a chuckle. “That thing’s a little too much for you, sweetheart.”

That earns her attention, steely and unimpressed.

“He is too much for you,” she says. Her voice is smooth, and would even be pleasant, if not for the circumstances. “He is one of ours. You will never break him.”

Dean's eyes widen a fraction. He glances back at the mustang.

So that's why she's here, he thinks. She's trying to mount a rescue. Dean feels a twinge deep inside, but he can't allow himself to care about that. They've collected a strong horse that will be a good support for their objectives here, once he's broken.

“Ah, well see,” Dean says, tipping his Stetson up to meet her gaze. “That’s kind of our specialty.”

“Sir, should we take her to the stockade?” Novak asks. He seems reluctant to do so to a woman, even an Indian, but he’s always been good at following orders.

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but another voice cuts him off. Colonel Asmodeus Sanderson steps out and takes a look at their captive.

“Not the stockade,” he says, with that Southern drawl that betrays his Kentucky roots. “Not yet.”

He approaches her with a slow, calculated gait. His hands gather behind his back. Dean gives her credit for looking Sanderson in the eye. She seems rightly wary, but not afraid.

“We won’t hurt you. I give you my word,” the Colonel says, “if you’ll lead us to your people’s camp.”

He takes a hold of her chin, turning her face this way and that, like he’s examining a dirty animal, and all that he’ll have to do to make it clean. She spits in his face.

Dean bites the inside of his lip against a smile. She’s got as much fight in her as the mustang. However, he has to school his face back into stoicism when Sanderson rears back in anger.

The harsh smack rings out in the clearing, along with the woman’s cry. Dean doesn’t allow himself to outwardly react, but inside, his spine tightens as he fights his instincts.

Only Kline and Novak’s hold on her arms keeps her upright. She pants for breath, but again, she meets the Colonel with a face that doesn’t give away anything, despite the reddening mark on her cheek.

“The post,” he barks. “Three days. No food or water.”

Dean is kept busy by his duties. He makes sure the camp is running in order, accepting shipments of supplies and ammunition, among other things. Cas Novak is in charge of the stables, caring for the horses and putting them through their training. Jack Kline is young and strong and a good assistant, along with others in his unit.

Right now, Dean and Benny are going over the plans with Colonel Sanderson for continuing construction on the railroad, from here to the Black Hills. It’s a path that cuts straight through Sioux territory—the bands of Dakota and Lakota Indians that occupy the land.

“The natives are fightin’ us tooth and nail,” Sanderson says. “But maybe our guest will be able to help us…negotiate.”

Dean remains quiet, ignoring yet another uneasy twinge in his gut. He didn’t join the army to fight the Indians. He doesn’t always understand their way of doing things, but he understands why they fight—to protect their land, and to protect their own. It’s the same reason Dean fights, when he has to.

He joined the army because…well, it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His father had been a Cavalry Major, and he’d died an honorable death, now about a decade past.

Has it really been ten years? Christ.

Dean wipes his brow. Even with the windows open, the office is humid and smells like ass. He glances outside, where both the mustang and the woman are tied to their posts under a sweltering sun at high noon.

Not for the first time, Dean wonders what his dad would think of him now. 

After the meeting, Dean and Benny fall into step together to inspect the camp. The summer sun shines hot on their blue uniforms, and occasionally they raise their hats to mop the sweat from their brows.

Things are running as usual, but many of the men’s eyes occasionally turn to the posts. Dean’s attention wanders there too without him realizing, catching on the woman’s dark hair. It shines even blacker in the sunlight, like a raven’s wing. He knows the shade because his dad used to have a feather kept in his journal, like a bookmark.

“You okay, brother?” Benny asks. Dean realizes what he’s doing, and his attention returns to the task at hand. Get it together.

Always forward, never backward.

“Just fine,” Dean replies. Benny gives him a knowing look.

“A bit unsavory, ain’t it?” he says. “Keeping her chained up without even a lick of water.”

“The Indians are getting smarter, bolder. They’re ambushing our men, going after our supply lines, and now, stealing our horses,” Dean says. “This is strategy.”

Benny shrugs slightly, making a sound of agreement. Dean hesitates, his gloved fingers flexing against his sides.

“If she was a man, you guys wouldn’t give a shit about putting a bullet through her head,” Dean says.

Benny’s gaze shifts downward. He doesn’t reply, but he concedes the point all the same.

They continue their route, and Dean keeps the rest of the conversation on the work at hand.

Mila has gone far longer without drink, but the sun is particularly unforgiving today. She’s prayed and prayed for even one cloud to glide overhead and shield her for a while. It’s not much better for her companion. He paces in place, occasionally tugging his head against the rope that binds him to his post.

She makes a clicking sound at the horse, getting his attention. She calls him by his name, and his ears flicker in her direction. He offers her a short whinny in response.

“I see you, Mato. I am with you,” she says in her native tongue. She hopes the sound of her voice will soothe him. He looks tired and hungry, but his eyes flick hard and untrusting on any man who comes near him. His spirit isn’t broken.

“Hey! Shut the hell up over there,” Roman shouts at her from where he and Cas are taking a short lunch break. Cas gives him a certain look, crossed mostly with annoyance.

Mila resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she closes them and tilts her face back to the sun. In a way, it feels cleansing. Maybe it can wash away the stench of the White Men’s hands on her body, manhandling her, checking her for weapons.

She spends the rest of the day watching the camp. One of their leaders, the Green Eyed One, called this a fort. It does look fortified, with tall walls made of thick wood constructed to form a cage—whether to keep others out, or to keep the men and horses in.

She identifies the Colonel as their chief, of a kind. Green Eyes is second in command, followed by the Bearded One with a strange voice. Even the scruffy Blue Eyed One has some authority, mostly over the Child Faced One. There are too many others to rank them all, but she knows the Loud Mouthed One is arrogant, even after she broke his nose. The way he carries himself, he clearly thinks he has more power than he actually has.

In her mind, Mila conjures up different plans of escape. All of them fall short in some way. The men didn’t find all of her weapons; a small knife is hidden deep in her boot. She could saw at her binds within an hour, but even with Mato to carry her out and away, the problem is escaping this camp without alerting the men. Without getting shot.

She has three days to think.

That night, the moon refuses to give her clarity. Her stomach is too empty, her throat too dry, her tongue thick in her mouth. Her attention shifts in and out of consciousness, until the sound of boots crunching in the dirt trills unease down her spine. More alert, she sits up straighter.

The Loud Mouthed One. The one they call Roman comes to taunt her, offering her water, then drinking for himself instead. He comes closer to examine her. He has a small bind over his broken nose.

“You know, you’re a pretty one,” he says, taking another cold sip as his gaze drags over her form. “For a wild thing.”

His face nears hers, clean shaven, though his thin smile reminds her of a rattlesnake. Dread and repulsion churn at odds in her stomach as she realizes what he's really here for. It doesn't matter if he truly wants her, or just wants to pay her back for his face. Either way, he means to take her here in the dirt.

She looks away, not wanting to let him see her fear, or the dread tightening her stomach, rising into her throat. He winds long fingers into her hair. At first the hold is gentle, deceptive. Then it's tight against her scalp. She hisses in pain when he tugs her head back and forces her to look at him. Her breathing quickens as she tries to pull away.

He draws in close to try and claim her in a kiss, but she head-butts him, hard.

He cries out and stumbles back, his flask falling to the ground.

He angrily grabs her and hauls her up to her feet. He pushes her hard against the post and unbuckles his belt, just to stuff it in her mouth. With his free hand, he begins to undo his pants.

She refuses to cry out, even though she spits out his belt and fights him, trying to kick out his knees.

Suddenly, the man’s body is ripped away from her. Mila loses her footing and falls to the dusty ground, sliding against the wooden beam she’s tied to. The wind is knocked out of her, but when she raises her head, she watches with wide eyes as the Green Eyed One beats the other man into the dirt. It doesn’t take much, just a few well-placed fists.

Roman lies there catching his breath, and he spits a wad of phlegm and blood. His left eye will match his nose, that’s for sure.

Green Eyes looks angry and disgusted. He huffs and puffs while staring down at his subordinate. He pushes back his short brown hair and points an ungloved hand at Roman.

“Get back to the goddamn barracks. You’re gonna be mucking out stalls until shit’s coming out of your ears,” he growls.

Roman doesn’t argue, though it’s obvious that he wants to. He just picks himself up, makes a show of straightening up his open uniform jacket while catching his breath. He walks past Green Eyes with a resentful, angry look. Green Eyes watches him until he disappears inside.

Then, he turns to her. His gaze softens somewhat, but it’s still unreadable. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his thighs. Mila’s gaze briefly falls to his hands. They’re calloused, the hands of a laboring man. He carries himself like a warrior.

“Sorry about that,” he says.

It’s not what she expected. Mila eyes him warily when he moves closer. She presses her back against the post until it hurts her spine. He raises up his hands placatingly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says.

“That is what your Colonel said,” she says. Her voice cracks with dryness. “I didn’t believe him either.”

His lips flicker at a rueful smile. It wrinkles crow’s feet around his eyes, breaking his stony face.

“Fair enough.”

He reaches for his belt and retrieves a flask, similar to the one his subordinate carried. He extends it out to her.

“It’s water, unless you prefer whiskey. I know I do,” he says.

She raises a brow at him, but hearing the sloshing inside the flask, her thirst takes over her wariness, and even her pride. She tentatively leans forward. He brings it closer so she can press her lips to the opening. Despite his Colonel’s orders, he lets her drink as much water as she’s able. When she’s done, he pockets the flask and sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

That, she will not give him. Names are sacred to her people, and this man, while seeming to have a shred of honor, isn’t worthy.

“Don’t wanna even tell me your name?” he says. He nods slightly. “Okay, well, I’m Dean. Captain Winchester, to this band of delinquents.”

He gestures around the camp with a dismissive hand. Mila only watches him. She’s never seen a White act like this, breaking his leader’s rules, being…kind.

What a strange man.

But if he had any real convictions, he would untie her and let her go, along with Mato. She won’t hold her breath.

Dean’s brows raise up toward his hairline, and his full lips form a pout. Realizing he’s not going to get anything more from her, he lets out a tired huff and straightens up.

“Well, goodnight,” he says.

He finally leaves her alone, but she can’t help but follow the swaggering path of his bowed legs and heavy boots. They carry him away and back indoors.  

A strange man.

By the morning of the third day, Dean is ready to do what he does best. Or at least, one thing he does best.

He’s no stranger to horses. He grew up on a farm in Lawrence, Kansas, where he and his brother would help take care of the animals. Dean was older, so he helped his father till the land and train the horses. Sometimes he and Sam would sneak off and race their favorite ones, until their mom called them back for dinner.

In fact, part of what earned Dean his rank in the U.S. Cavalry was how well he could command a horse. His own is resting in the stables.

Today, he’s getting in the ring with the mustang.

…Well, not right away. He lets a few of his guys go first to tire him out. Even after three days of no food or water, the horse is living up to his bad attitude. He bucks each of them off after just a few seconds in the corral. Dean can tell it’s becoming a kind of game for the horse. His dun-colored coat shines in the sun, his brown socked legs kicking up dust and manure as he brays angrily at whoever tries to mount him.

Dean notices the Lakota woman watching with an amused smile on her face while she sits with her hands tied to her post. She’s enjoying the show, like she knew this would happen. It seems to give her energy every time another man is thrown off the horse and limps out of the ring.

Dean shakes his head. Pitiful.

He puts two gloved fingers to his mouth and whistles the entire clearing to attention. He saves Kline the chance to bruise his spine and pats him on the shoulder. Dean steps into the corral and positions himself into the stirrups, wrapping the reins around his hand. The horse is breathing hard, but he’s not done. He’s still got fight in him. Dean sees it in his brown eyes.

“All right, mustang. You’re big and bad. I get it,” Dean says lowly. “But I don’t scare easy. Gimme your best damn shot.”

Cas and Benny give him wary looks from where they stand outside the gate.

“Hold onto your hat, Cap,” Benny mutters.

Dean adjusts his hat and rests his gun on the post for safe keeping. He wants to feel as natural as possible, like it’s just him and this horse, out back in his family farm. He holds on tight to the reins. He’s fully prepared for how the mustang takes off at a galloping clip around the ring. He twists and bucks, but Dean claps his thighs tight and holds on for the ride.

The horse gets smarter.

He runs for the water trough just outside the ring. He slams Dean against the side of it once, twice—and manages to throw him off, with Dean landing right in the water trough.

He bursts out from the dirty water, sopping wet and spluttering in anger. He looks over at the horse trotting around, whinnying and tossing his head like he’s laughing. Dean can’t help it. His anger fades, and he smiles.

This guy’s got some brass balls, I’ll give him that.

The Lakota woman laughs. Dean hears it and his head swivels toward her. She bites her lip, but she knows she’s been caught. Despite his injured pride, Dean’s lips curve with a smirk. Just gonna laugh at me, huh?

“I see things are going well,” comes a familiar drawl.

Dean’s face falls as he looks up and finds Colonel Sanderson. Dean pulls himself out of the trough and tries to squeeze some water out of his uniform. He clears his throat.

“Well, uh, it’s going, sir. Just gonna take a little more time than I thought,” Dean says. He quickly reclaims his hat from the ring, giving the mustang a smart berth. After he climbs back out, he goes over to the post where he left his pistol.

“Hold him steady,” Sanderson barks out the order, but not at Dean. The other men wrangle the horse back into the pen, where Sanderson climbs up and mounts the horse himself.

To his credit, he stays on longer than even Dean thought he would. The mustang gallops and circles. He tries slamming Sanderson on the sides of the corral, tries bucking him and bucking him, but the man clings on, even when his hat falls into the dirt.

The horse is exhausted. He eventually stops in the middle of the ring, panting for breath, his legs shaking slightly. Dean straightens at attention.

So does the Lakota woman, he notices. She looks worried, her brows furrowing.

Sanderson swipes a hand over his graying hair and moustache to collect himself. He raises his head with an arrogant smile.

“You see, gentlemen. Any horse can be broken,” he says. He kicks the horse with his spur. “Move along, mustang.”

To everyone’s amazement, the horse obeys him. He moves forward at a slow clip. All the men applaud, even Dean, belatedly.

“There are those in Washington who believe the West will never be settled,” Sanderson continues. “The Northern Pacific Railroad will never breach Nebraska.”

His gaze draws over to the woman. Her eyes are filled with tears as she watches the Colonel makes his rounds.

“A hostile Lakota,” he says in derision, “will never submit to providence.”

She stares back at him with steel in her watery eyes.

Dean doesn’t realize his jaw is clenched tight until he feels the strain in his jaw. He forces himself to relax, with his hand on his dampened belt.

“And it’s that kind of small thinking that would say this horse would never be broken,” Sanderson says. “Discipline, time, and patience. That’s all you need to level a wild thing.”

Just then, the horse stops abruptly.

“Mustang?” Sanderson asks in warning.

Dean tenses. He knows what’s about to happen.

“Sir!” he calls out.

But it’s too late.

The stallion revs and charges, bucking even wilder than before. He swings his head and rears back high on his hind legs with a powerful bray. Sanderson yells in fear and strain, but he stays on the creature’s back.

The horse’s angry eyes take on a darker shade of conviction. When all four of his hooves hit the ground, he finally bucks hard enough to get the Colonel off his back, though he still clings to the reins near the animal’s head. He comes face to face with the horse’s crazed eyes. His own are wide and full of terror.

Hot breath heats Sanderson’s face. Then the horse swings his head and tosses the man out of the ring. In the process, the horse falls on his side and shatters a section of the wooden beams that fenced him in.

While he shakes his head and gets his hooves under him, Dean and Benny help the Colonel up to his feet. His uniform is a wreck, and now, with a bruised body and likely a couple of broken ribs, the man is fuming.

Kline and Roman wrangle the horse’s reins and keep him more or less in place. The Colonel shoves Dean and Benny off of him. He reaches for his gun at his belt and aims it at the mustang. Dean goes rigid in shock, but he knows he can’t interfere. If he does, it could warrant some major discipline.

The Colonel pulls the hammer back on the revolver, but before he can pull the trigger, the sound of cutting rope and a feminine yell breaks the silence in the clearing. The Lakota woman pulls the Colonel’s arms down, and the gun goes off into the ground. Her elbow comes up quick to strike the man between the eyes. He careens back into Benny, who catches him.

Meanwhile, the woman swings up onto the mustang. She grabs a stronghold by the neck and barks something in her native language. It spurs the horse onward, and he breaks through the crowd of men at a gallop.

Dean watches with widening eyes and furrowing brows. “Shit!”

He runs to the stables where he finds Baby waiting for him. Her black coat ripples as she stamps impatiently.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he beckons. He leads the mare out of the stable, and after grabbing a coil of rope from the supply bench, he mounts her smoothly. With a subtle kick of his heel, she picks up speed to follow the mustang and his rider.

They’re already approaching the gate where the men are quickly trying to close it. There’s still a window of opportunity for escape, but not only is Dean on their heels, Roman also stands on a pile of crates filled with iron parts that are due to be shipped out in the morning for continued construction on the railroad. Roman holds a rifle. He trains his weapon on the woman, taking deadly aim.

Dean’s jaw clenches and his brows furrow. He knows then, in the breadth of a few seconds, that he has to make a choice. If he does nothing, both she and the horse are as good as dead.

Sam used to call him reckless, stubborn as the horses he spent long hours taming.

Right about now, his brother is probably right.

Dean reaches for his gun, aims, and shoots within the span of those seconds. Roman goes down before he even knows what hits him. His chest plumes with blood after he slides down the crates and flops heavy to the ground. His eyes stare unseeing at the crisp blue sky.

The mustang tears through the narrow opening in the gate, and Dean isn’t far behind. The woman is an excellent rider, far better than he expected her to be. She clings to the horse’s neck and mane, and she doesn’t even use the stirrups. She clings on when the horse leaps over rocks, and when she notices Dean tailing her, she urges the horse at an even faster gallop.

Dean’s face furrows with determination. Baby is built for speed too.

He gives her a little kick with his heel. “Come on, Baby. Go!”

He’s able to keep up with the mustang just a few yards behind, even when they reach rougher terrain, going further up and into a canyon. He follows them through every curve and dip, guiding his horse just as much as she's guiding him.

Dean takes his rope in hand and turns it above his head, but his attempt to lasso the mustang's neck fails; the woman saws straight through the rope with her knife.

"Damn it!" Dean mutters.

He's forced to let go of his frayed rope when he and Baby nearly careen off the edge of a cliff. His heart settles high in his throat as he grits his teeth, but he pulls back on the reins hard and leans in the opposite direction. Baby's able to bank left, saving them from a long way down to certain death.

They continue up the narrow path the mustang has trod ahead. It carves around and through the mountain.

Dean mentally grasps for a plan, aside from just keeping up. Without even a bit of rope, he doesn’t know how he’s going to slow the woman down without hurting her or the horse. He doesn’t want to have to use his gun.

Eventually, the canyon breaks into a patch of desert, and then, grassy plains and tall forest trees. The mustang begins to tire and slow to a stop. His rider murmurs soothing things to him, stroking his neck. She turns back to look at Dean over her shoulder in dismay. She knows she’s caught.

“All right, sweetheart. That’s enough,” Dean says.

He sidles up next to her and intends to grab the mustang’s reins.

That’s when her swift kick comes, dead in his forehead.

AN: And here we go! �� Feels right that November is Native American Indian Heritage Month. 🫶🏽 For that reason especially I've done my best to do the Lakota people justice, even in this little series and complete work of fiction.

There's a lot packed in this first chapter, and yep, I did borrow a bit of scene from one of the best scenes in Spirit as an homage. From here on out, we're literally going off road...

Next Time:

Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and his hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.

“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.

The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.

Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.

Dean has a problem.

Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 

COMING 11/10! (New chapters every Sunday.)

Or read Part 2 on Patreon now!

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[jarchaeology]

genuine questions because i’m curious - do you thoroughly read the magazines cover to cover or just extract what you need and file them away? what are you gonna do with them and other items or photos you’ve found if/when you retire from jarchaeology? what sparked this whole hunt in the first place, did jensen’s career history fascinate you and things just snowballed?

btw i told my mom about your college trash bag story because it made me cry and she had the same reaction that’s so funny dude i’m sorry.

ahhh sorry this took so long to respond to! that always happens when i get a message that i really like. i hope you see this!

i don't read the magazines cover-to-cover, but i do skim every word. these magazines each had a consistent format that makes it easy to identify the relevant sections. if it's clearly not about jensen, i still skim it for events that i know he attended or industry specifics. i'm also always interested in the creatives behind the show, because that can provide a lot of context for the business jensen was in.

and if it's an article that is about jensen? i still skim it lol. it's easy to spot what's different when you've read 400 articles about eric brady already. i do pay really close attention to the photos, the event details, and the photographer credits. that stuff is like gold to me.

i wish i did this process only once, but it happens a few times for each magazine. i catalog the pages he's on and what kind of content i need for my spreadsheets and scans. and i also reference these issues a lot when i'm looking into "new" events to add to the timeline. he may not be advertised as attending, but if i find proof later that he did, i can look through the issues that came out around that time and find the details.

what am i going to do with all of this when i'm done with jarchaeology? idk! i've been considering selling on ebay eventually. i've spent some stupid money on this stuff so it would be nice to get a little of it back. but that's not anytime soon. i'm still here. the fixation hasn't begun to fade.

why this specific focus on jensen's early career? just kinda happened. a silly night of research that grew into something more. it's becoming clearer to me lately that this was the perfect puzzle for me to put together because the soap opera fandom was already so great at archiving their own history. you can't track every little detail from his time on dawson's creek, but you can for his time on soaps. the fans had their shit together. they still do. i can research this stuff because they've already put so much energy and care into their interests! soap operas are questionable (affectionate), but the fans are actually pretty dope. there are some striking similarities to the spn fandom tbh.

also, lol i love that you told your mom about the time i accidentally threw all my clothes away. what makes it worse is that it was a 400-mile drive home in the california summer sun. i came home from college with literal hot garbage instead of my vintage dresses. 😭

[canichangemyblogname]

firstly, I loved your clone essay and I can't wait for your deathwatch one if it's still in the works

I had a question about the Jedi philosophy/teachings if you're cool to answer—the Chosen One prophecy said that Anakin would bring balance to the Force. I've only seen the movies once so I can't remember how much stake the Jedi put in that (IIRC it was just Qui-Gon's interpretation?) but I took that to mean that the Force had to be unbalanced, assuming in favor of the Light Side. I guess my question is since the Jedi are good, how could their destruction be anything balancing? Obviously the point couldn't have been that they should be more tolerant of the Dark Side, and I don't know how they could be if it corrupts but does that just mean the prophecy was BS? I don't know if I'm interpreting it wrong or missing something?

all /gen sorry if this seems like a really stupid question lol

First. Thank you so much!!! The essay is still in the work! It's just a matter of having time (a.k.a. having a full weekend when I'm not working and am willing to stay inside and spend all day doing research and write an essay).

Second. It is certainly not a stupid question! I nevertheless appreciate the tone indicator! I know it's hard to convey tone through text over the internet.

So, from what I understand, the light side is the balance. The dark side must be kept under firm control or this balance is lost.

When the clone wars break out, we remember Yoda saying, "Victory? Victory, you say? Master Obi-Wan, not victory. The shroud of the dark side has fallen. Begun the Clone War has."

The dark side, long kept under control by the Jedi, had broken free, in a sense. They were no longer able to pin point it or regain control of its influence and power. And this had been building over the years.

Essentially, the force was already unbalanced.

The council and the Order's Leadership had been blinded by their hubris and as @whymylifehome, has previously said, the Jedi lost their battle against the dark side at Geonosis. In that moment, they commit themselves to war, not peace; destruction, not life, and their own imbalances and flaws come to the forefront.

"As Jedi, we were trained to be keepers of the peace, not soldiers. But all I've been since I was a Padawan is a soldier."

-Ahsoka Tano

But they also commit themselves to other wrongs. Like the use of a slave army and the use of child soldiers and eventually acts we'd consider immoral (like burning Geonosians alive).

We see this narrative during the Mortis arc too. The Brother represents how the dark side has broken free in the universe. The Father represents keeping this force under control. But he is growing older and weaker and can no longer contain his son, representing the Jedi's ineffectiveness at keeping the dark side under control. In his attempt to break free of control, the Son kills the embodiment of the Light Side, the Daughter/Sister.

And according to George Lucas, balance is when light prevails and people control their darkness. Although, he has given many conflicting statements on this since the OT aired. For example:

"The overriding philosophy in Episode I—and in all the Star Wars movies, for that matter—is the balance between good and evil." -George Lucas, quoted in L. Bouzereau, Star Wars: The Making of Episode I, 1999

But it seems, more recently, that he has been defining balance in the force as the removal of the toxicity, hatred, and fear of the dark side. And it seems that this is something that must be constantly maintained and upkeep by the Jedi.

So their destruction brought imbalance.

So it, obviously, becomes hard for them to maintain the balance when they've mostly been rounded up and killed at the start of the new Sith Empire run by Darth Sidious. And it's something that continues to be hard to do when the responsibility of rebuilding the Jedi and helping to maintain that balance falls on one person. I've argued that Luke Skywalker was "set up" to fail. He's attempting to bring back the Jedi Order a generation after the near-total annihilation of all Jedi and the complete collapse of the Order.

He took on the total responsibility for creating a force of Force users to keep the dark side maintained and contained.

He helped his father bring balance by defeating the Emperor and thus usher in a new era, but he was going to fail. He did not have the same robustness as the Order did and that meant he did not have the same influence and power to keep an eye on and actually wrangle the dark side and it's influences.

So much so, that he gives into fear. Fear of failure and fear of destruction and fear of the dark side rearing it's ugly head again and tipping the balance he'd been working so hard to maintain, practically alone (or so it seems).

[chaosintheavenue]

You want to talk about your fixation on MacCready?

Eheee...

My followers seeing this post on their dashes are in two groups:

1) The innocent newer followers who at this point think I just have a totally average interest in a returning character in the franchise

2) The handful of people who know Exactly what I'm about to talk about and have most likely already begun their transformation into the Ben Affleck smoking meme

Here comes a cut for brevity and convenience, but TLDR- it's all about the Plague content.

Sooo, I was very familiar with Mac in Fallout 3. I have an OC who grew up in Little Lamplight so I spent quite a lot of gameplay time in the caverns for research purposes, and he took the liberty of cussing me out many times. I was pleasantly surprised to meet him again in Fallout 4, and I do really like him as a character. I've probably said this a few times now, but I think it'd be neat if his family appeared in all titles in the series going forth, as a replacement for Harold (since he may well have died in the Oasis quest).

But. What caused me to deeply fixate on him was his companion quest in Fallout 4, Long Road Ahead. It's debatably Plague content- some of the most recent and in-depth we've ever had if it was ever to be confirmed in future- and I personally feel it could even be to a future game what The Replicated Man was to Fallout 4's synth plotline (oooor at least maybe that was the original intention...), especially with a name like Long Road Ahead lol.

[saitomakikofans]

Makiko blog translation (2022.05.29) "48 Group x Ray exclusive model audition" About 2 months from April 48 groups x Ray exclusive model audition. From the result, unfortunately I couldn't become an exclusive model.

But thanks to a lot of support from everyone I was able to go to the final interview. To a place that I could never reach by myself Everyone guided me ☺︎

Postcard voting, qualifying distribution, main race distribution While being scraped mentally and physically, everyone did their best and fought together from morning to night to support and help me

Postcard voting 📮 period In the blink of an eye, the stock on the web runs out It was impatient, wasn't it? (LOL)

On the way home from school or work, visit the nearest bookstore On holidays, even going outside the prefecture Thanks to everyone's tearful efforts

Postcard PT was the first place overall! I was surprised 😳 (I also bought 40 of the same fashion magazines for the first time in my life lol)

And finally the qualifying delivery period has begun, I jumped into the world of MixChannel.

It's different from the live distribution that I've done so far It was as if I was lost in a new world. The number of PTs and ranking are displayed in real time, The spirit was steadily scraped.

But even in such anxiety, there is a connection I was able to meet a lot of people who helped me and those who helped me ☺️ How can I reach the viewer during this period? I wonder if you can enjoy the delivery for several hours every day

I'm excited to make a schedule I was groping, but because everything is unknown It was a week that I was able to overcome by enjoying it. I've never seen or felt the last day A fierce battle is unfolding in front of me

It was like that when I noticed it was over. Comments that cannot be overtaken flow on the screen The ranking was decided in a blink of an eye Thanks to everyone's support, I passed the first place in the qualifying 🥇

Even though it was qualifying, I got the first place I was so happy from the bottom of my heart that I couldn't help it! That alone gave me a lot of confidence, I was proud. Thank you very much.

One month has passed since then A week of the final distribution of the main race has begun. A melee that is incomparable to qualifying. The ranking fluctuates scary every hour every day, I didn't mind when it wasn't delivered. If I wake up in the morning and my ranking goes down... Just thinking about it makes my chest painful and unbearable I never slept with peace of mind. I can't show any anxiety or appearance during the delivery that everyone who sees it will enjoy it Above all, I was most happy and it was worth it.

And what surprised me most For the month leading up to the main race, the fans MixChannel distribution system, audition rules, etc. Actively call out to distributors in various frames I studied and researched myself. Make a lot of effort in places I don't know Knowing about preparing for the main race, I was convinced that this was a good team...! My chest got hot. Thank you very much!

I never wanted to regret it I've done everything I can to spare! The content of the delivery was also intended to be more elaborate than others Without overdoing the pace of delivery I was able to spend every day at the limit 🫧

Really come to see me at the same time every day I was really happy with the comments and items. Because of your existence and support Every day full of anxiety was saved, They pushed me back because I wasn't alone!

The last day is the beginning of the distributor who was indebted So many people came to the frame, He gave me a fan mark and supported me. Fast-flowing comment fields, relentlessly fluctuating ranking...

I could barely laugh at one point As soon as I relaxed, my tears seemed to overflow. She was willing to take on the manager when I was cornered and already tattered

The voices from the two encouraging distributors came into my heart and made me feel better. And there are many allies on the other side of the screen fighting to put me in first place...

I don't think I can have such an experience again. A world full of love, gentle and encouraging It existed in the MixChannel ☀️ I really thank you…!

I couldn't get the number one I was aiming for, but it was the first time that I was so excited by the livestreaming that I had more to gain. It was a really valuable period for me.

In the final interview, I did it face-to-face with the Ray editorial staff 🌸 Looking back on it now, I wish I had done it I wish I had told you more like this

I honestly have regrets, but 🥺 (laughs) It’s all me, it’s all me. I'm the one that everyone loved and supported me…!

Future activities of Ray girl With gratitude in my heart, I want to do my best ✊🏻 And someday I'm sure I'll go grab it by myself.

Everyone pushed my back and taught me that I was obediently greedy only for my dreams. Being a model for me It wasn't always the goal I wanted to achieve

When Ray-san auditioned for 48 groups this time, I felt that is very attractive and wanted to do it. But it takes a lot of courage to say it out It can also put a burden on the fans

It was painful because I could easily predict it. And above all, the number one reason was scary. There are things that I can't grasp no matter how hard I try I don't want to feel like this anymore

I turned my back on my dream, Even if you wait, chances don't roll It ’s the worst thing to regret without doing it. Even you interested a little, don't give up! If you can't do it till the end, don't do it!

That's right, with the manager until midnight I remember the day I had discussed and decided. I should have decided by my own will, but I was scared somewhere and couldn't help it... But inspire yourself with your own challenges

I enjoyed the days I lived facing forward 😊 This decision of mine was not wrong and I'm glad I did it! I can think from the bottom of my heart

I think I will continue to live that way. "Always seek stimulation and push to the limit" That's why the results have come out, but I will continue to do so. I want to move forward little by little every day I will try to be proud of myself 😌

And I wish I could someday give back to all the fans who supported me long before this project, as well as everyone who took care of me with MixChannel I will do my best again while wishing for such a day!

It's been long, but now Ray exclusive model audition is over!!!

I really thank you…!

Makiko Saito

source: https://ske48.co.jp/blog/detail/77795/