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hafanforever · 4 years ago

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Through a Mirror Darkly

One of my favorite things about villains is how they can serve as dark reflections of their protagonist or deuteragonist (or some other major supporting character) enemies. By this, I mean that villains are basically the evil counterparts to the heroic ones. They share some personality traits or have similar goals to the heroes, making them the example of what the good characters could or would become if they go down the wrong path or do not change whatever negative traits they possess.

In Disney, many of the villains from the Renaissance and Revival Eras are dark parallels to the protagonists, as well as occasional deuteragonists. Here are all the villains from the Disney animated canon who are evil counterparts to the heroes and what makes them as such.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: The evil queen is this to Snow White.

Both are female monarchs known for their outer beauty, with Snow White’s being the only one to surpass that of her stepmother.

However, despite her beauty, Snow White is a kind, gentle, benevolent, humble person.

Her stepmother, on the other hand, is extremely vain and obsessed with her own beauty that she cannot tolerate any competition. The queen’s determination to remain the fairest one of all drives her to murderous insanity, and she seeks to kill Snow White just to remove her “rival”.

Therefore, the queen is a dark reflection of the kind of person Snow White would have become had she grown obsessed and vain over her physical appearance.

Beauty and the Beast: Gaston is this to the Beast.

Both are handsome men who want to use Belle their own selfish reasons, with the Beast wanting her to help him break his curse and Gaston wanting to make her his trophy wife and slave.

Both also become enraged after Belle rejects them, which happens primarily because of their bad manners towards her, with her refusing Gaston’s marriage proposal and later refusing to eat dinner with the Beast.

However, after he saves her from the wolves, the Beast begins to change into a more caring, compassionate, selfless individual. He falls in love with Belle for her kindness, independence, and intelligence (reasons far beyond her outer beauty), and takes her needs and happiness before his own, especially when he allows her to leave his castle so she can help her father, even though time is running out for the curse to be broken.

Gaston, on the other hand, lusts after Belle purely for her outer beauty and wants to marry her since he believes her being the most beautiful woman in town makes her the right one for him. After Belle rejects his proposal, Gaston makes no attempt to change his ways for the better out of his own arrogance, narcissism, and egotism. Instead, he resorts to attempting to force her to marry him using deception and manipulation.

Therefore, Gaston serves as a dark example of what the Beast could have become if he had never met Belle, but also the Enchantress. In fact, the Beast makes this realization when he grabs Gaston by the throat and the latter pathetically begs for mercy. The Beast sees that Gaston is the monster he would have become had it not been for Belle, and if he killed Gaston, he would be no better than him. And since he wants to be better than Gaston, especially because he truly loves Belle, the Beast reluctantly spares him by telling him to leave the castle.

Aladdin: Jafar is this to Aladdin.

Both Aladdin and Jafar are men who wish to move up in society and wind up resorting to trickery to do so, including putting on a facade in order to ingratiate themselves with the royal family. Aladdin pretends to be Prince Ali and initially acts cocky and smooth to cover up his true, humble street urchin self, while Jafar pretends to be the Sultan’s loyal vizier when he actually despises the Sultan and schemes to take the throne of Agrabah for himself.

Both also rely on magic in their pursuits. Aladdin relies on the Genie to make him a prince so he can win Jasmine’s heart, while Jafar uses his snake staff to hypnotize the Sultan and manipulate him into doing what he (Jafar) wants him to do. Later, Iago steals the lamp when Aladdin isn’t around, and Jafar makes his first two wishes to become Sultan and then a powerful sorcerer.

However, Aladdin’s guilt over deceiving Jasmine and the Sultan drives him to back out of using his third wish to free the Genie, after which he finally decides to come clean about his lies. In the end, he keeps his promise to the Genie and sets him free, rather than to wish to become a prince again.

Jafar, on the contrary, becomes so caught up his own power that it ultimately becomes his undoing. Aladdin cons Jafar into believing that the Genie is the only being more powerful than him, so Jafar uses his final wish to become a Genie himself. But seconds after making his wish, Aladdin reminds Jafar that being a Genie makes him a prisoner of a lamp, and Jafar realizes too late that he has been tricked.

Therefore, Jafar serves as a dark parallel as to what Aladdin might have become had he not freed the Genie and become too obsessed and hungry for the power and status that would come with him succeeding the Sultan.

The Lion King: Scar is this to Simba.

Both are rebellious lion princes who develop a sense of entitlement, believing that being a king means that they can always do whatever they want, always get their way, and have their orders obeyed with question or argument.

With such feelings, both Scar and Simba only care for what benefits they would get as king and do not grasp the responsibilities that come with being a ruler.

Simba starts out as a young lion cub who js the future king of the Pride Lands. His position as the future king inflates his ego, making him arrogant and boastful enough that he believes that being a king means he is entitled to do anything he wants whenever he wants, that he doesn’t have to be told what to do, and can make or get rid of any rules he dislikes.

Scar, on the other hand, is the younger brother of Simba’s father Mufasa, and has lost a legitimate chance to be king due to Simba’s birth. Scar still has a deep-rooted desire to be ruler of the Pride Lands, but only for the power and authority it would give him over the other lions and animals in the kingdom. Scar’s lust to become king drives him to murder Mufasa and try to murder Simba, whom he blames for Mufasa’s death. Sent off into exile, though with everyone believing he is dead, Simba grows up living a carefree lifestyle while Scar assumes control of the Pride Lands. His incompetent, lazy, and dismissive behavior regarding the responsibilities as a ruler, especially the balance of nature, turns the kingdom into a barren wasteland.

However, in adulthood, after being encouraged to do what’s right by Mufasa’s ghost, Simba decides to go home to atone for the mistakes of his past and take his place as the true king. Seeing what Scar’s tyranny has done to the Pride Lands makes Simba understand the importance of his responsibility, and he eventually learns that Mufasa’s death was not his fault.

Scar, however, is killed by the hyenas because he cowardly tries to run away and blame them for his crimes just to weasel his way out of facing the consequences.

Overall, Scar proves himself to be the very tyrant Simba would have become if he had grown so obsessed with his future power and authority and not learned to understand what important responsibilities come with being a ruler. In fact, one could even say that “Be Prepared”, Scar’s song about his plot to become king, is a dark reflection of “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King”, young Simba’s song about his excitement over becoming king and all the great things his rank will do for him.

Pocahontas: Governor Ratcliffe is one to John Smith.

Both men are in charge of the Virginia Company who venture into the New World in search of gold and riches.

Both have bigoted views of the indigenous inhabitants, seeing them as savages upon which to look down.

Both also feel a sense of ownership to Virginian and/or its resources, which can be shown when they both sing in “Mine, Mine, Mine”.

However, after meeting Pocahontas and learning about her, her people, and her world, including that there is no gold present, John no longer views the Native Americans as savages (and instead believes that they could help him and his company), and comes to respect the fact that the land rightfully belongs to them.

On the contrary, Ratcliffe holds on to his intense racism, supremacy, and greed, which drives him into delusion and fantasy that the Powhatans are hoarding the non-existent gold for themselves. He ultimately declares war on the tribe in order to obtain the “gold” while claiming it as a rescue party after John is captured by them.

Therefore, Ratcliffe serves as a dark parallel as to what John would have become if he had never met Pocahontas.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Frollo is this to Quasimodo.

Quasimodo has a monstrous exterior, but he is actually a benevolent, gentle, and kind person.

On the contrary, Frollo is a normal-looking person, he is a pure monster on the inside.

Both have unrequited attraction to Esmeralda, with Quasimodo's being friendly love and Frollo's being lust and obsession. These are further emphasized by their respective songs: Quasimodo's "Heaven's Light" and Frollo's "Hellfire".

Both also face rejection from Esmeralda, but for different reasons. Quasimodo faces it because Esmeralda loves Phoebus, and while he is initially heartbroken over it, he learns to accept it and remains friends with the couple.

On the other hand, Frollo becomes furious when Esmeralda refuses to become his mistress, so he gives into his hatred and racism towards her people by attempting to murder her, and then commit mass genocide against the gypsies.

Therefore, Frollo serves as a dark parallel as to what Quasimodo could have become if he developed bigotry and wrath towards the gypsies after seeing that Esmeralda only loved him as a friend.

The Emperor��s New Groove: Yzma is this to Kuzco.

Both are power-hungry authority figures in the empire, with Kuzco being the emperor and Yzma being his adviser.

Both are very arrogant, callous, selfish people who view themselves as superior to everyone else in the empire due to their ranks.

In the beginning, Kuzco possesses all these negative traits and more. He rules his empire completely without the best interest of his people and always seeks to have his way, regardless of any misfortunes it could cause other people. After Kuzco fires Yzma for doing his job in his absence, she plots revenge by aiming to kill him so she can rule the empire.

However, after being accidentally transformed into a llama and befriending Pacha, Kuzco comes to realize the error of his ways, while Yzma remains bent on eliminating Kuzco.

Therefore, Yzma serves as a dark reflection of what Kuzco would have become if he had not met Pacha and undergone his transformation.

Tangled: Gothel is this to Flynn Rider (aka Eugene Fitzherbert).

Both are manipulative, arrogant, and selfish people who use Rapunzel for something they want, with Gothel using her for the magic of the sun flower in Rapunzel’s hair, and Flynn to get her to tell him where she hid his satchel containing (unknown to her) Rapunzel’s tiara.

Both find themselves as a reluctant companion/protector to Rapunzel, with Flynn helping Rapunzel escape from tower so she can see the floating lanterns, while Gothel plays the role of Rapunzel’s mother and manipulates her into staying in the tower so she can use Rapunzel’s hair to stay young forever.

However, Flynn grows to care for Rapunzel and sees her as a person without ever showing interest in using her hair for his own personal gain. His love for her changes him into a better person, as shown when he aims to protect and rescue her from Gothel, with him ultimately sacrificing the chance to be healed from the fatal wound Gothel inflicts on him so that Rapunzel can be free of Gothel. After being revived, Flynn brings Rapunzel home to her parents and in the final scene, he announces in his voiceover narration that his love for her also led him to decide to stop thieving.

Gothel, on the other hand, only puts up with Rapunzel since Rapunzel’s hair has the magic Gothel wants for her own selfish desire. She views Rapunzel as a pest and any forms of “affection” she gives Rapunzel are actually towards her hair, in reference to that Gothel truly loves the power in Rapunzel’s hair and not Rapunzel herself. To keep her from leaving the tower, Gothel constantly belittles, demeans, manipulates, and emotionally abuses Rapunzel, especially by using guilt trips and victim blaming whenever they argue or when Rapunzel defies and challenges her “authority”. When Rapunzel discovers she is actually Corona’s missing princess, Gothel resorts to chaining and dragging her to another place far away to keep the magic within her hair forever and permanently prevent Rapunzel from leaving ever again.

Therefore, Gothel serves as a dark parallel of what Flynn could have become if he had never met Rapunzel.

Wreck-It Ralph: King Candy, who is later revealed to truly be the long-presumed-dead Turbo, is this to Ralph.

Ralph is programmed to be a villain in his own game and is treated as such, but he is actually kind, selfless, humble, well-meaning, and sympathetic towards other characters in the arcade, particularly the homeless ones.

Turbo, on the other hand, was originally programmed to be the hero of his game, but he was actually arrogant, selfish, attention-seeking, egotistical, and had no care or value for anyone else besides himself.

Both leave their own games, or game-jump, in order to get attention and recognition, but have different motives for doing so. Ralph game-jumps to get respect and positive recognition that he had always been denied, while Turbo does so out of jealousy and spite in an attempt to regain the attention and popularity he lost when RoadBlasters was plugged in and got more notice than TurboTime.

Therefore, Turbo serves as a dark example of what Ralph might have become if he had grown too obsessed with getting what he wanted.

Frozen: Hans is this to Anna.

Both are the youngest siblings in their respective families.

Both grew up feeling neglected, rejected, and overshadowed by their older siblings.

However, while Anna still loved Elsa and was willing to do anything to reconnect with her, Hans grew to resent his brothers and was willing to do whatever it took for him to finally be on top, to gain and attention and everything he rarely to never got by growing up in their shadows.

Therefore, Hans serves as a dark counterpart of what Anna would have become had she finally given up on mending her relationship with Elsa.

Big Hero 6: Professor Robert Callaghan is this to Hiro.

Both are intelligent people who lose a beloved family member, with Hiro losing his older brother Tadashi and Callaghan losing his daughter Abigail.

Both become consumed with grief and determination to avenge their loved ones, to the point that they want to destroy those who they believe are responsible.

However, while Hiro briefly becomes enraged after learning that Callaghan faked his death, stole his microbots, and that Tadashi died for nothing after he went into the burning building to save him (Callaghan), he comes to his senses with help from his friends and learns to accept his loss.

Callaghan, on the contrary, lets his rage and grief over losing Abigail consume him enough that he desires revenge on Alistair Krei. Callaghan’s obsession causes his own morality to apparently vanish based on the way he ruthlessly pursues and tries to murder any innocent bystanders who get in his way. He even coldly and callously dismisses Tadashi's death as his own mistake and ultimately rebuffs Hiro's pleas to accept Abigail's loss (despite briefly showing a hint of regret). But when he sees Abigail alive after all (after Hiro rescues her), Callaghan realizes that all of his senseless destruction ended up being for nothing, so he shows shame and possibly remorse for his actions once he is arrested.

Therefore, Callaghan serves as a dark reflection of what Hiro would have become had he let his grief turn into vengeance and not learned to move on from Tadashi’s death.

Zootopia: Dawn Bellwether is this to Judy Hopps.

Both are small prey animals who hold important positions in the city (Judy as a cop, Bellwether as the assistant mayor) and want to be successful and appreciated for their efforts.

Despite their positions, both are overlooked, dismissed, looked down on, misjudged, and mistreated by their bosses (Judy by Chief Bogo and Bellwether by Leodore Lionheart) and other larger animals, especially by predators.

However, while Judy has some mild bigotry towards predators (especially foxes, due to being bullied by one as a child), she truly wants to live peacefully among predators, wants prey and predators to also live as such, and overcomes her troubled past to bring an end to the conspiracy against the predators.

On the other hand, Bellwether gives in to her hatred for predators (particularly because of the abuse she endures from Lionheart as his assistant), and starts her conspiracy of turning predators savage in order to become mayor and remove them from Zootopia.

Therefore, Bellwether serves as a dark parallel of what Judy might have become had she allowed her mild bigotry towards predators intensify into pure hatred.

Frozen II: King Runeard is this to Elsa, his own granddaughter.

Both are very powerful monarchs who, at different points in their lives, are the sole rulers of Arendelle.

Both have keep big secrets about themselves from their kingdom, and also hold great fears of magic.

However, Elsa feared her own magic since she believed that she would lose control of them and harm people, especially those she loved. She learns to overcome her fear and to trust herself, and the people close to her.

On the contrary, Runeard feared magic because he believed it to be a threat and competition to his own royal status and power. His fear grew into paranoia, hatred, and bigotry, which clouded and corrupted his judgment over trusting people with ties to magic, making him believe that the Northuldra, and anyone who is magical or follows magic, can never be trusted.

Therefore, Runeard serves as a dark example of what Elsa might have become if she allowed her fear to consume her.

However, while Runeard serves as a dark parallel to Elsa, he also serves as a darker counterpart to Hans.

As I described them in “The Men with Two Faces”, both men are obsessive, manipulative, selfish monarchs who pretend to be kind and noble in order to hide their true natures and gain the loyalty and trust of others for their own personal gain.

Both are also very power-hungry who only care for the power they have/crave and are willing to go to lengths of treachery and murder to get what they want and expand their power.

Both sneak up on people sitting on the ground and try to murder them with their swords since they view them as a threat to their goals. However, while Hans failed to kill Elsa due to Anna’s intervention, Runeard succeeded in killing the Northuldra leader.

Therefore, Runeard is what Hans could have become if he had succeeded in killing both Elsa and Anna and been crowned king of Arendelle.

I owe a thanks to my dearest friend and soul sis @minervadeannabond for coming up with this title. Although I am called the Queen of Puns, I sometimes have trouble coming up with clever puns as titles for my analyses, and she’s always there to help me out. Thank you so much, girl! Love you much! 😁😊❤️

And since today is All Hallows Eve, what better kind of analysis for me to post today than one about villains?

Happy Halloween, everyone! 😁🎃👻

#Miscellaneous Disney #Disney #Disney Villains #Disney Villain #villains #villain #reflections #reflection #countertparts #counterpart #good #evil #my stuff #mine

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nakedmossy · 4 years ago

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Golden Hour ☼

A Triple Frontier Story - Part 1/?

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Molly [reader] has been living on the beaches of Mexico for the last 3 years since being honourably discharged from the army and leaving her fiance back in Texas. Riddled with PTSD, she went on a bender, ending up in a small coastal farming town in the Yucatan. Forced into early retirement despite being the best sniper in her company and all the trauma that came with that responsibility, she has worked hard to obtain peace in her new life. She was closer than ever to fully achieving it, that is, until her ex-crew member and lifelong friend, Will Miller, showed up with a proposition to bring her out of retirement for one last job with the boys. -----------------------------

The sun was hovering around the horizon, beating down on the beach as the water lapped the shore. You rolled the dirty cup around in the dishwater absentmindedly, scrubbing the dried coffee off the sides, letting your hands soak. It had been an easy day, a 5am rise for a morning surf, a bike ride to the market to pick up some fruit, and a mid day Dive to a wreck site with some tourists. All-in you had pocketed around $50, including tips, and a complimentary phone number from the bachelor who had tried to frisk you while you filled the tanks on the dock. It would get you enough food to last through to the weekend, and if it didn't, well, you could always call the bachelor tourist for dinner.

You were caught up in a daydream when you heard something rolling in through the bush, the sounds of the studded tires reverberating off of the rock and palm trees, the sand and jungle brush cracking and moving, the dull hum of the engine. You tipped your head closer to the window over the sink to see a slick black motorbike come to a stop near your hitch, a large muscular figure hooking his helmet on the handlebar before jumping off and walking towards your trailer door. Your hand hovered over the sidearm you kept loaded on your kitchen counter.

“Hey Sweet Cheeks” The voice shouted, the silhouette keeping its arms and hands visible.

Your stomach dropped. No way. The voice belonged to the boy who had pinched your ass as a kid, annoyed your ass as a teen, saved your ass as a new recruit in the army, and more than once grabbed your ass at the bar while you squeezed your ass into a tight dress. You froze for a moment before you looked out your window and saw him standing at your trailer door, waiting.

You opened it abruptly, swinging it hard enough that it hit the side of the trailer with a loud clank. You kept your arm out to keep it wide, surveying the sight in front of you with a shocked expression, your chest rising and falling in shallow, tight breaths of disbelief. He did the same, his eyes travelling up from your bare feet, along your tanned legs, to your jean shorts and your braless tank top, all the way to your shaded eyes.

“Will Miller” You spoke, his name like a muscle memory in your mouth. “What the fuck are you doing here.”

You took three long seconds before you smiled, then you practically jumped out of your trailer and into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist, laughing uncontrollably in surprise and excitement. He squeezed you tight, one hand around your hips, the other on the back of your head, compressing you into his muscular frame. He let out a low growl of contentment while he nuzzled his head into your hair.

“Good to see you Molly” He mumbled.

You squeezed him with as much strength as you could muster before he let you slide down, your feet hitting the sand below. You brought a hand up to shade your eyes, the sun beaming directly in your eyes from behind his shoulder. You knew his face like the back of your hand, you had grown up with it chasing after you with spiders and nerf guns, then spent 10 years in active service being chased by cockroaches and real guns. You hadn’t seen him since you moved to Mexico.

“What are you doing here, man!” You laughed, you couldn’t stop smiling. He hadn’t changed at all, aside from a few new laugh lines around his mouth. His smile was reserved as usual, but unabashed.

“Oh, you know….I was in the area” He winked and looked around, snickering. Your end of the beach was cut off to tourists and hardly even accessible to locals. You weren’t even sure how they got a trailer there in the first place. It was as visibly remote as you could get in the Yucatan these days.

“How did you…find me here?” You watched him watching you closely, like he was looking for something.

“A local kid working at the market. I asked for directions to the little local Turkey with yellow hair and he practically drove me here himself.” He grinned with mischief and dodged my hand as I smacked him. “He seemed to know who I was, too.” He looked at you expectantly, which made you giggle to yourself.

Your friends son, Erik, was one of the few kids who spoke clean English and visited often. You had helped him with his math tests last year and he had agreed to cut you firewood for a year. He had seen the picture of you and your crew in your trailer and demanded stories around the fire every time he came by. He asked about Will the most.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now.” You said, stricken with shock again and unable to gather yourself. “Whats it been…2, 3 years?”

“2 years and 5 months” Will said quietly, smiling at you. “You look younger somehow”

“Yeah, well, that’s the tequila and the saltwater for ya. Stick me back in Iraq and strap a rifle on my chest, ill age 10 years in front of your very eyes”

Will nodded with a knowing smile and looked around, checking out your decaying trailer and old truck, his eyes settling on the boat overturned on the beach, which you were in the midst of patching and doing engine maintenance on.

You shared a quiet moment together, taking each other in, before he smiled again and open his arms for another hug. “Come’ere kid”

He squeezed you again and this time found your butt, pinching it.

“Fucki-OUCH” You wailed, pulling away and smacking his chest. He laughed like a little boy and bounced away a step, stretching his arms and sighing, relaxed.

“So,” You said after a few moments of silence, before stepping back and pacing in a half circle once. “You want a drink?”

He smiled at you and you felt your head spin. It was the same familiar smile he used to give you when you were kids and you couldn’t reach something or you needed his help lifting something. Not patronizing, just…pleasantly amused.

“Yeah, a drink would be nice.”

“Grab a chair, i’ll be right back” You motioned to the seats surrounding the fire pit that was on the edge of the sand. He turned and walked towards them and you felt your chest tighten. You could never calm down when he was around, staring at you, his physical presence was overwhelming. Even still, after all this time. After everything that had happened in the war, your breath caught when he smiled.

When you came back out with two glasses of bourbon, neat, he had his feet perched toe to heel and was leaning back, enjoying the view of the ocean.

“Pretty okay view to wake up to” You said, handing him his drink. You saluted each others glasses and he smiled, looking back out at the water.

“Unreal. I wouldn’t leave.”

“I don’t” You winked.

“So how did you end up here anyways” He took a drink and savoured it, balancing the glass on the armrest.

You took a long, deep breath and leaned back in your chair before exhaling quickly and looking around.

“I came down after Pete and I.…after I left. He took the house, I took…my shit, and I split.” You laughed bitterly, rubbing your eyebrow. “I don’t know. I went rogue for a bit and woke up here one morning after a bender, just never left.”

Will was quiet for a few moments, considering what you said, before speaking.

“Did things end badly - with Pete?” He was watching you intently.

You held his gaze boldly, amidst your discomfort regarding the topic, your face a blank canvas.

“No” You lied, forcing a smile.

His eyes narrowed slightly but he looked back at the water and took another drink.

“What’re you doing to make money?”

“Lots. Pole dancing, escorting. Selling drugs.”

You were mostly kidding about the last part, but you had sold a couple bags of weed to some of the local teenagers after you found out they were buying it from the cartel - trying to keep their names out of the streets as long as you could before they inevitably got recruited.

He was looking at you again, his face dark now, a shadow of the light hearted kid you had gone to prom with.

“Seriously, Mol. What are you doing down here.”

“Getting interrogated apparently. Calm down, Ironhead. Nothing illegal.” But when he didn’t budge you continued “Im a Dive Master, I take tourists out to some of the reefs every couple of days to pay the rent, and I help out at some of the farms on the off season.”

Half satisfied by your half answers he swirled his drink and took a sip.

“Enough about me, care to explain what you’re doing down here? Turning up at sundown like an old friend?” You watched him closely, observing his posture, noticing the hilt of his sidearm poking out the side of his t-shirt.

“Working” He said bluntly, returning your snarky smile with an equally shaded answer. “Recruiting.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you sat deeper in your chair, unbelieving how crassly he was owning up.

“Unbelievable. Just right down to business eh? You turn up here after 2 years, sorry, 2 years and 5 months and you don’t have the courtesy to wait 10 minutes before you pull this shit? No.” You said firmly. “No. Im retired."

He nodded, then leaned forward and downed the rest of his drink, placing the glass at his feet and resting his elbows on his knees. He watched you with such an intensity that you shifted in your seat and looked away.

“Mol, look at me.”

You sneered and looked at him, your hat shading your eyes from the setting sun, but barely.

“Its a 2 day job at most. 1 day and a single shot if we’re clean-”

“No” You cut him off, leaning forward to stand up.

“Its 5 million USD” He said quickly, stopping you from walking away. “Each.”

You took a deep breath and waited, considering sitting back down. You stayed standing. You tilted your head to the side and lifted your hand to your mouth.

“Who” You said quietly, not wanting to give him the impression you were seriously considering it.

“Juarez.”

You choked you had laughed so hard and so quick. You sat down abruptly on the edge of your chair, looking at him like he had two heads.

“No way. Not a chance. Are you kidding?”

He said nothing, just watched you and raised his eyebrows, the words ‘5 million’ written across his forehead like a banner. When it was clear he wasn’t joking you leaned forward, matching his posture, ducking your head down until you had his eyes squared with yours.

“Listen to me. There’s dangerous, there’s what we did in the army, and then there’s that.” You waited for a reaction that never came. You pressed on. “Will, I have been down here for 3 years. Living, working, fucking with these people. Juarez isn’t just a cartel boss who cuts fingers off and mails them to the victims kids on their birthdays. He systematically brings down monarchies. He beheads children. That man is a fucking monster.”

Will sat firm, his jaw set, not breaking eye contact. He was challenging you, as he had a million times before, only this time neither of you were in uniform and both of you had level playing ground. He wasn’t your superior officer, and you weren’t his sniper.

“We’ve dealt with worse.” He said finally.

You broke eye contact and looked at your bare feet planted in the sand, your tanned skin smooth and warm. No scars, no combat boots, no dust. Freedom. What you had worked for your whole life.

“Its 5 million, Mol. One target, one shot. Nothing more. Freedom for the rest of your life.”

“I already have that. Look around” You put your arms out, the whole of the beach and your paradise encapsulated in them, rage tickling under your skin. “5 million aint worth giving this up, 5 billion wouldn’t even be.”

He looked around and back at your trailer, at the rusting metal and the fraying tarps, before setting his gaze on your arm, on the scar that ran up it, and finally back to your eyes.

“Hows the Physio down here.” He said darkly. “Your off season farm job’s health insurance covering it?”

You flinched like he had hit you, your eye flickering as the memory of the bullet cutting through your arm and shattering the bone blazed like fire in your peripheries.

“Fuck you, Will.” You said finally, your voice cracking when you said his name. You stood up and pushed past him, walking towards your trailer. Subconsciously you held your arm and rubbed it, the phantom pain lingering. The deep and permanent damage had bothered you every day since you obtained the injury 6 years ago, on one of the last missions you had done with Will and the crew before they retired.

“Molly” Will grabbed your arm from behind, pulling you to a stop, and you winced. Not from pain, more from recognition. “Im sorry” He said intently, his eyes searching yours.

“I can’t” You said finally, your posture strong and your eyes set. You were still muscular and built like you were in active duty, but so was Will. “Even if I wanted to - I can’t.”

Will took a step closer, his breath almost on your face now.

“Why not” He pushed.

“Because” You spit back at him “I can’t use a scope. Or Binoculars. My heads fucked up.”

Wills eyebrows knit together and he looked over your head with his gaze, face taught with confusion.

“What’you mean?”

You shrugged and licked your bottom lip, looking away from his prying eyes.

“I had an accident a few years ago. I got a concussion that fucked with my equilibrium, haven’t been able to use binoculars or a scope properly since.”

You took a breath and straightened your back, setting your jaw. If he was going to play hard ass, then so were you. Fuck his intimidation tactics, you had learned how to deal with those in elementary school. He would have to try harder.

“Service?”

You shook your head, your lips pursed.

“After I left”

“What happened?”

Your eye flickered again, the memory of Pete attacking you and knocking you down a flight of stairs, your head cracking off the banister, still as fresh as if it happened yesterday.

“I fell.”

Will, visibly agitated now, shifted his weight to his other foot. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know, probably because I didn’t expect you to come down here and try to recruit me to whack the leader of my neighbourhoods biggest cartel?”

“Mol, im your friend, you shou-“ He started, but you backed up, shaking your head.

“Oh yeah? And where have you been? Last time I checked a prerequisite for friendship was checking in once in a fucking blue moon.”

Will bared his teeth in frustration and took a deep breath, looking down at his feet with his hands on his hips.

“Was it Pete?”

You didn’t answer, which was answer enough. Will’s hands covered his face and he groaned audibly, rubbing them into his hair in frustration.

“Molly. I have like 5 minutes left in me before I pull the fuse line to your propane, light a match, and drag your ass out of here on the back of my fucking bike. Come for drinks. Hear us out. Please.”

“Us?”

“They’re all here, waiting at the bar.”

You shook your head, smiling bitterly. Of course they were.

“There are better soldiers out there. Better snipers out there. Go recruit one of them.”

“Not true. You never missed a shot.”

“I missed once” You started, your voice lowering reflexively. “And you know what shot I missed.”

He held your eyes as the memory lingered in the air between you, the sound of the bullet hitting the body of the child behind your target would be something you took to your grave. It haunted every minute of every day.

“Molly, come on. Look at you. You’re living in a dump trailer with a half broke boat and a fucking peddle bike. You’re better than this and you know it.”

“Im not better than shit. Don't feed me that 'we were warriors' crap. I was a girl who was good with a gun, and I killed people. And now i'm broken. Thats the truth."

“MOL, I NEED YOU-” He yelled now, his hand shaking. The outburst took you off guard and you stepped back, your face slack. Will grabbed his hand and rubbed it, turning around and sighing deeply before facing you again. “Molly, I need you to hear us out. Come have a drink in town, listen to Pope’s plan. Please.”

You were still on guard from his outburst but you closed your mouth, your eyes dropping to his hand, which still shook lightly. PTSD was a tricky motherfucker.

You blinked silently a few times before raising your eyes to his again, a silent moment of recognition passing between you. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t seriously asking for help, and the rest of the crew wouldn’t be waiting if there wasn’t already a good plan in place.

“They’re all here? Redfly?”

Will nodded, his jaw tight.

“Fine” You said then, swallowing your pride and knowing you would regret it. “One drink.”

“One drink” Will repeated, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“But Will,” You interrupted his budding smile and took a step so your faces were close again. “I wasn’t joking. Im not the shot I used to be. If we do the Recon and I tell you I can’t do it, that’s it. Im out. Full stop.”

Will blinked a few times as his eyes drifted down your face to your mouth and back up, his eyebrow twitching.

“I understand, Mol” was all he replied.

----

#triple frontier #charlie hunnam #will miller #benny miller #frankie morales #santiago garcia #garrett hedlund #pedro pascal #will ironhead miller #will miller x reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier boys #oscar isaac

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gffa · 5 years ago

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The Rise of Kylo Ren #2 | The Last Jedi One of the most interesting moments from TRORK #2 is that Ben and Snoke are having a mental conversation while Luke is in the room and seems none the wiser for it, that it made me think of how everything Luke says in his depression funk about the Jedi Order isn’t really precisely about them, but about himself. Rian Johnson said this about Luke blaming the Jedi Order: "Writing Luke… the first thing I had to figure out is, ‘Why is he on that island?’ That’s the first thing I had to crack. He’s taken himself out of the fight, his friends are fighting and dying the good fight, and he’s sitting on an island, hiding. So I had to come up with a reason he was there that was 1) active and 2) positive and 3) something that I could genuinely believe, I could think if I were in Luke’s shoes. And the thing that I came to, the thing that seemed to make sense to me, the first thing I got to that I really believed in was this notion that he sees this hero worship of him and of the Jedi as something that is detrimental to the galaxy. “That the universe has put its faith in this false god of the Jedi and they need to basically forget the religion so they can get back to God, so that light can rise from a worthier source. And because he’s the last Jedi and a symbol of that it then becomes this self-sacrifice, he has take himself out of it, when he knows his friends are dying, when the thing he’d most like to do is get back in the fight. "He’s taken the weight of the world on his shoulders, taken himself out of the equation, so that the Jedi can die out, so that light can rise from a worthier source. "So, in his own way, similar to Kylo, he’s trying to disconnect, he’s trying to throw away the past, he’s saying 'Let’s kill religion. It’s the thing that’s messing us up, thing thing right here, let’s kill it.’ "And the truth is, it’s a personal failure. It’s not religion[’s fault], it’s his own human nature that’s betrayed him.” –Rian Johnson The truth is, it’s a personal failure. It’s not religion’s fault, it’s his own human nature that’s betrayed him. This, in addition to how everything Luke says in those scenes, “You think what? I'm gonna walk out with a laser sword and face down the whole First Order?” is exactly what he does at the end of the film, how he recognizes that he is not the last Jedi and the big huge point of that entire part of the movie was that, yes, the Jedi are a symbol of hope and light in the galaxy, a necessary and good one, which shows that the above scene in TLJ is set up precisely to be knocked down--including Luke’s depression, his blaming the Jedi Order, and his blaming of himself. Because, as we see in The Rise of Kylo Ren--that if the Jedi Order were really at fault for Anakin’s choices or the rise of Palpatine, then Luke is as well at fault, because he didn’t stop Snoke, he didn’t stop Palpatine, he was responsible for Ben’s training and didn’t stop the choices Ben made on his own. Given that George Lucas has often said that Star Wars is about choice, I don’t think the bigger narrative take-away should be that, oh, these other people are responsible for Anakin and Ben’s choices, especially when we see that they are trying to help and they’re giving good advice based on what information they have. We see the Jedi caring about Anakin and offering him help, we see Anakin turning away from that help because it’s not the magic answer he wanted. We’re starting to see some of what made Ben turn, that he’s having these secret conversations with Snoke behind Luke’s back (which of course echo Anakin and Palpatine’s conversations, the dripping poison into his ear in the guise of a friendly mentor who just wants to help, but is instead telling them to embrace all these things that will lead to poison when left unchecked, as that’s how the Force works) and it’s hard to find the balance between respecting that other people need their boundaries, need to have a private space in their head, you have to trust them to make the right choices when you’ve offered to help, because you can’t forcibly pry them open and make them spill all their secrets, that only leads to resentment and distrust. Which gives TLJ a lot of important context (which was already there, but this deepens and furthers it) in that Luke’s words aren’t really about “my heroes were actually assholes” but instead that “I feel responsible for this thing and so I’m going to lash out at someone else, despite that I’m really lashing out at myself”. With this comic as an expansion on the above, Luke’s words take on a new context, that it’s about his own personal failings that are being cast onto the Jedi Order, because Luke feels so horrible about all of this, he’s in such a bad place, that he’s nearly lost his compassion, nearly lost his empathy. He behaves like a real asshole to Rey, furthering our understanding that this is an angry, bitter Luke who has stepped off the Jedi path of compassion and care for others. It’s not gone, there’s something in him crying out to do the right thing again, depression trying to smother that spark, especially as anger is something he’s always struggled with (as all people do), from ANH to ESB to ROTJ to all the comics in between, Luke has struggled with this. What Luke is really saying is: “At the height of my powers, I allowed Snoke (and Sidious) to rise (again), create the First Order, and wipe my students out. I was a Jedi Master who was responsible for the training and creation of Kylo Ren.” Because he was literally right there in the room while Snoke was manipulating Ben and he feels like its his fault that he didn’t see it. And depression becomes a hell of a drug once it gets its hooks into you and you can’t stop feeling like everything is your fault, your fault, your fault, even when we have to allow other people their agency to make their own choices, we can only provide support and the willingness to listen and help if they’re ready for it. But depression brain lies and makes us think it’s all our fault. /as someone who has dealt with depression brain pretty much all my life

#luke skywalker #ben solo #supreme leader snoke #meta #comics #reading comics: the rise of kylo ren #wedneday spoilers

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super-famicom-star-inactive · 4 years ago

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Throwback Tuesday

January 19, 2021

Howdy, and welcome back to another Throwback Tuesday!

For this episode, we’ll be diving into the iconic Capcom fighting game that defined a franchise and has spawned an exhaustingly long list of remakes in the process, becoming one of the greatest fighting games ever made.

May I present

Street Fighter 2 (1991)

(For the sake of keeping it to-the-point, this Throwback Tuesday will be dedicated to the very first version of Street Fighter 2. A future Friday Special will cover the long list of Street Fighter 2 remakes.)

Production History

Original Release: March 1991 (Arcade, WW)

Future Releases: too many to list because of the multitude of re-releases over the years and the fact that it's been released onto almost every console imaginable.

Developer: Capcom

Publisher: Capcom

Designer(s): Akira Nishitani, Akira Yasuda

Producer: Yoshiki Okamoto

Artist(s): Eri Nakamura, Satoru Yamashita

Programmer(s): Shinichi Ueyama, Seiji Okada, Yoshihiro Matsui, Motohide Eshiro

Composer(s): Yoko Shimomura, Isao Abe

Inspiration

Although the original Street Fighter did not sell well, the development team at Capcom still decided to go ahead with Street Fighter 2 after seeing how well Final Fight did commercially in the USA, another legendary fighting series in its own right. With an estimated 35-40 people working on the game, the original was overhauled with better characters, better controls and better animation, the latter of the three being one of the biggest selling points. Despite everything, there was very little emphasis on balance (which would be fixed in later versions thanks to piracy, more on that later) as it was not seen at the time as a big priority.

Story

While there isn't an over-arching story per say, you do learn a little lore about your chosen character once you defeat Bison, the game's big boss, and how each character in the roster has a bone to pick with Bison.

Gameplay

Street Fighter 2 is a player-vs-player fighting game on a side-scrolling, animated background. The goal of the game is to attack and defeat your opponent by depleting their health bar down to zero, and the victor will be scored based on remaining health and time. While following some of the conventions of the first game, like keeping it player-vs-player or player-vs-com, it introduced an attack combo system where pressing a select number of buttons performs special moves.

Reception

To say this game did well is an extreme understatement. The game itself sold so well in arcades that by 1994, it was played by a whopping 25 million people just in the United States alone. It received countless gaming awards, including Game of the Year in 1991. The SNES cartridge release was also commercially successful, making it Capcom's best-selling single software cartridge of all time. Critics raved positively about the title, seeing it as a glow-up from its lackluster first installment, as did players who rushed to arcades to play this soon-to-be-legendary game.

Legacy

Street Fighter 2 not only redefined the franchise but the entire arcade world itself, creating a renaissance of arcade games. It was also influenced by piracy and that piracy even changed the way Capcom looked at SF. Remember when I mentioned that balance wasn't considered when making the game? When Capcom released Street Fighter 2: Champion Edition, fans were quick to point out the lack of balance and loose controls that plagued the first version. After frustrations rose to a fever pitch, several gamers came together and Street Fighter 2: Rainbow Edition was born, the name stemming from the way the title was presented in a weird color palette.

The pirated version did so well, it made Capcom furious to the point that they quickly dished out Street Fighter II Turbo: Hyper Fighting to consolidate and regain their fans. The new version became the blueprint for the remakes that would follow as Capcom improved upon the foundation that was set.

So sometimes piracy can be helpful!

Thoughts from the Head

As a Street Fighter fan, I do not have the fortune to play the original version of Street Fighter 2, however I have played the versions released on the Nintendo Switch (Street Fighter 30th Anniversary Collection and Super Street Fighter 2: The Final Challengers) and I very much enjoyed the latest upgrade. The closest I will ever be to the original is Street Fighter 2 Turbo on my Super Famicom.

That being said, if you can get your hands on any version of Street Fighter 2, do it because this is definitely one of those games that you have to play before you die. It's fast, addictive, and a lot of fun, and the whole magic is definitely "easy to learn, difficult to master" once you have a feel for it. I would definitely recommend this to any fighting game fan. My main is Chun-Li, for those curious.

#any day where I get to talk about Street Fighter is a good day #throwback tuesday #my voice!#gaming #retro gaming #irl #gif #street fighter #street fighter 2

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werejusttouchingeachother · 5 years ago

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Dirty Sinner

Words: 6048

Genre: smut (m)

Pairing: Kai x reader

Warning: dom!Kai, sliiiight angst if you look hard enough lol

A/N: Happy Birthday, cousin (pt 3--its the final one, I swear) also this entire thing was inspired by the gifs of the W Korea photoshoot and those gifs oNLY

One would think that the fact that he's your brother's best friend would be enough of a reason to not fuck him behind your brother's back.

But no, you had to pick him even though he was the one guy who was famous too.

Hundreds of friends and yet, you picked the best friend, the idol:

EXO's Kai.

Of course, like most bad decisions, it wasn't intentional. You'd grown up around a lot of guys, thanks to your brother being the most outgoing, friendly guy that there is. And most of these guys only ever considered you as a younger sister--Jongin included.

Until about two months ago when there was a party at your place.

You'd been the perfect balance between tipsy and drunk, just one vodka shot away from losing your memories of the rest of the night. The crowd had gotten suffocating and you'd escaped upstairs to your bedroom, long after midnight when a majority of the people were shitfaced-drunk, including your brother. It was when you were stumbling to your bathroom that you'd ran into Jongin. You'd tripped on your heels and he'd caught your arms, steadying you.

You still remember what you wore. It was one of your favourite dresses--a dark navy lace that moulded your body with a deep plunging neckline that made your brother frown at all the cleavage you'd displayed oh-so-generously.

A decision that was difficult to regret especially when Jongin's eyes had lingered there for a moment before meeting your eyes. He'd surprisingly been sober and you still cannot recall whether it had been intentional on your part or not but you lost your balance in his arms, causing him to fall back on the wall with you up against him.

It had taken only a second of eye-contact before Jongin was kissing his best friend's little sister. One moan from you and he was shoving you into your bathroom, locking the door behind him as he lifted you onto the sink, lips finding yours again hungrily.

However, it didn't last for long. Right when you'd started tugging at his shirt impatiently, he'd grabbed your hand and stopped you, stepping away.

"You're drunk," he'd said. "We shouldn't be doing this. Your brother will kill me."

Before you could even stop him, he'd left you there in that bathroom, feeling cold and incredibly frustrated.

You didn't leave your room after that, feeling angry at yourself for how disappointed you were because he'd left. It shouldn't have mattered but it did and you couldn't get that kiss out of your head.

And apparently he couldn't either cause when it was close to 3AM and the music had died down and when you were certain everyone had passed out on all possible surfaces of your house except your room, you heard your door open.

Jongin had stood there, eyes dark and intense as they gazed at you and you had glared at him.

"What?" You had snapped at him. "Isn't my brother supposed to be killing you for something that he never even knew?"

At that, he'd raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? We're going to play the 'what he doesn't know won't kill him' game?"

"As opposed to the game of eye-fucking each other across the room and pretending to ignore the sexual tension everytime we're together?" Narrowing your eyes at him, you'd seethed, "Yeah, don't think I didn't notice all the glances you gave me all night."

"You're his kid sister. I literally watched you grow up."

"Bullshit. The last both my brother and I saw of you was when you two were in middle school and then it was only after you debuted. Both you and I have changed plenty during that time and you know it."

Jongin had stepped into the room then, his back pressed against the door as he digested your words.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Jongin," you had said, leaning back on your headboard as you pulled your knees to your chest absentmindedly. His eyes had immediately dropped lower, following the movement and even before the wicked idea could form in your head, you were already spreading your thighs and displaying your thong that peeked through the dress that had hiked up considerably now.

You heard the familiar click-sound as his fingers locked the door shut behind him and like a man in a trance, he had strode to the bed and pounced on you in an almost animalistic frenzy, hands and mouth everywhere.

The way that you had unintentionally moaned 'Kai' after the first orgasm he gave you that night--or morning--dawned the realisation upon both of you that it wouldn't be the last time you'd be doing this.

A realisation that the two of you had abided by as Kai now marked up your neck in the downstairs bathroom of your house, grinding into your thigh while the guys were immersed in their game of PubG in the living room--a perfect excuse to disappear without anyone noticing especially since Baekhyun kept yelling, "DIE DIE YAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Except that now--almost two months after the first time in your room--you felt things differently than earlier.

It had started last week. Your brother had left town for a couple days, your parents weren't home so of course you called him over. After the party, it was mostly quickies here and there so this was a golden opportunity for both of you. Kai had driven over immediately, you had fucked in all possible places of the house in all sorts of positions and you remember thinking that if you died from having too much sex, it'd probably be a great way to go. Especially if it was with Kai.

But then he had stayed the night. You'd laid on his chest and he'd ordered pizza around 1AM and you'd worn his shirt that was too big for you while answering the Dominoes delivery man at the door and he'd waited for you on the carpet of your living room with a stupidly cute grin on his face.

You knew you were fucked when you woke up feeling warm in his arms that were wrapped snugly around you, his face buried in your neck. You knew you were truly fucked when he'd smiled right as he woke up and saw you with the tray of toast and coffee, putting it aside and pulling you back into bed with him for some lazy morning sex. You knew you were truly royally fucked when the two of you stood pressed up against your front door when he had to leave, neither of you making the move to leave--until he had to run upstairs and escape from your window when you two heard the sound of your brother's car in the driveway.

And when you'd fallen back into your bed, smiling and wrapped yourself in the sheets that smelled like him?

Yeah. Fucked. Both literally and metaphorically.

Of course, it hadn't been like this the whole time. At first, it was the risk of what you were doing, or rather who you were doing--sneaking around your brother's back, the thrill of getting caught, the way you'd drive him up the walls by calling him Jongin in public and screaming Kai when you both were alone, the way he'd have you struggling to keep it together when you were around your brother by giving you a certain look or by straying his hand farther down your back or sending you a dirty message on your phone at the dinner table while you sat with everyone and of course, the fact that you were having the best sex of your life with one of the sexiest KPop idols on a regular basis. But now, as you watched your reflection in the bathroom mirror, held up against the door while he thrusted into your clothed core, you couldn't ignore the feeling of fluttering butterflies over the usual impending-orgasm-tightening of your stomach.

"Fuck," you gasped, closing your eyes as you felt Kai come over your panty and bare thighs, your own orgasm soaking through your underwear.

You breathed hard as you looked at him, your eyes moving from the back of his head that you could see in the mirror to his face as he pulled away from your neck. He smiled at you then, setting off your heart in an erratic pace that had your insides turn to mush as you stared at him.

Post-sex Kai was the most beautiful Kai that you'd ever seen: his honey skin flushed with an ethereal glow, all the blood rushed to his cheeks, sweat glistening on his forehead and his lips swollen.

You swallowed thickly as you blinked at him and he ducked his head towards yours, mouth going to meet yours and you quickly say it before you can second-think it or stop yourself,

"We need to stop this."

Kai's mouth moves to your throat instead as he licks a long stripe from your collarbone to your ear. "Hmm?"

"We should stop this," you repeat, your heart pounding in your ears. You then have to force the next words out, "Kai, stop, I'm not fucking around."

You place your hands on his chest to push him off you and see him blink at you, as if in a daze.

"Well," he said, still grinning coyly. "We aren't fucking around right now. But we could--"

"I'm serious."

The smile falls off his face, his playful expression turning somber in an instant.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"You're my brother's best friend," you state, moving your hands to your back where it was out of his sight since they were slightly trembling. "I'm his sister. He trusts both of us and we--we're doing this. I feel like the worst sister."

"Y/N, what--"

"He trusts me, Jongin." The use of his real name makes him scowl slightly as he realises you're serious.

Oh, if only he knew.

"He said this thing the other day," you continued, forcing yourself to maintain eye-contact so that the lies you were spouting wouldn't be as obvious. "He said that he's glad he can trust me and that I'm honest with him. It made me feel like shit."

No, he didn't, but what did make you feel like shit was when your phone would light up with a notification from 'Jongin' that had you grinning like an idiot.

You cleared your throat, tugging down your skirt that he had bunched up around your waist.

"Y/N," Kai, no, Jongin said your name in a tone you'd never heard him use before, making you look at him.

"What's going on?" He asked seriously. "Did he see the last text that I sent you or something? Did he find out?"

"No," you rolled your eyes as you straightened from the door. "No, he didn't. I just feel guilty. I feel like a... sinner."

"Isn't that what you like though?"

His tone makes you glance up, right as he takes a step towards you. With dark eyes focused on you, he places one hand on the door right near your waist, the other reaching for below your skirt and you feel his finger trace up your thigh before raising it to your mouth.

Your lips part open reflexively and he smirks in satisfaction, letting your mouth wrap around his long digit, allowing you to slightly taste the cum that he had collected from his earlier orgasm that was still on you.

"See?" He whispers, hot breath fanning your face as you stare up at him with your eyes wide open.

"You love this," Kai mutters. "You're a dirty sinner, Y/N, and you love it."

You closed your eyes, feeling your resolve break down momentarily before snapping your eyes open, grabbing his hand and pulling it out of your mouth.

"I'm serious, Jongin," you mutter, voice cracking. You shove him back, straightening your clothes. "This--we can't--we're stopping. That's it. Go play with the guys, they're waiting."

And with that, you left a stunned Kai Jongin in the bathroom and headed to your bedroom where you locked yourself in for the rest of the night before leaving to stay at a friend's place in the morning--a place where your cowardly self could hide out for days and sort out your messy emotions without having to worry about running into Kai.

"I literally do not understand why you need me there," you said exasperatedly, your fingers pressed to the bridge of your nose as you listened to your brother on the phone.

"Y/N, its been a week," he stated as if you didn't already know. "You've been crashing at Soojin's place for a week. I'm starting to think you hate me or something."

"You know it's not that," you reply, sighing. "I'll just spend a few more days with her before coming back."

He stays quiet for a moment before finally giving up on arguing with you. "Fine. But you have to come tonight."

"Again, I repeat, I don't understand why you--"

"Mom and Dad went for a trip, Y/N. Do you know when was the last time we had the house to ourselves?"

Yes, you wanted to say. Yes, I know exactly when--approximately two months ago which was around the time that Jongin's vacation had started and you'd thrown a 'welcome back home' party for him that had transcended into a private party in my room where he had shifted from your middle-school best friend Jongin to my secret fuckbuddy Kai.

But of course, you couldn't say that so you went, "No, I don't know."

"It's been months," he stated in his typical exaggerated fashion. "I would be insane if I didn't throw a party tonight. Its written in the stars, Y/N, karma will literally be out for you if you miss your favourite brother's legendary party tonight."

"You're my only brother," you state wryly.

"Bitch, I will drive up there and hit you."

You laugh slightly and shake your head, biting your lip as you considered the possibility. You were tempted to ask if he would be there but you knew he would, it'd be stupid to assume he wouldn't come.

It's been a whole week since you saw him, heard him and touched him.

You sigh and finally give up as you glance at Soojin who raised an eyebrow at you.

"I'll be there," you mutter, smiling as you hear your brother cheer in victory. "Don't open the vodka bottles that I bought last month before I get there or I'll murder you."

"Get here fast then," he retorted and you two abruptly hung up.

"You're going for the party," Soojin said wryly even before you could say a word.

You nodded in defeat, looking up at her hopefully. "Will you come with me?"

She snorted, crossing her arms. "Why, so I can watch you run around the house, trying to avoid Kai? No, thanks."

Soojin was the only one who you'd confided in with your dirty secret and she had given you advice that had terrified you to no ends:

"Just tell him you like him."

"Oh come on, Y/N!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration as she watches you fidget on her couch. "I don't understand what you're so worried about. Given the fact that you two have been sleeping around like bunnies for two months now, I don't think it's likely that he'd reject you."

"He's an idol, Soojin," you say defiantly, raising an eyebrow. "Fucking around and dating are two very different things."

"Are idols incapable of dating?" She rolled her eyes. "If he can fuck around with you for this long without your brother finding out in his own household, I think he can manage a secret relationship without his agency finding out."

"Secret relationship?" You screeched, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. "What the fuck are you saying, we're literally talking about his career here!"

"Why are you blushing then?" Soojin called you out, narrowing her eyes at you. You threw the cushion at her and she sighed, standing up from the couch.

"I'm not going to argue with you, Y/N," she said, holding up her hands in defense. "But for what it's worth, I think you should tell him the truth cause he's a grown adult who can decide for himself whether he should date or not. So you should confess for your own peace of mind. Cause trust me, unrequited crushes are the worst." She paused, thinking. "Well. You're pretty lucky for someone who has an unrequited crush cause you've fucked him in all possible--"

"Stooooop," you whined, falling back on the couch dramatically. "Don't trigger me, I'm trying not to think about it."

Soojin smirked, crossing her arms. "Missing the endless sex, Y/N?"

"Missing is an insufficient word," you grumble, frowning. "I miss my room but sex with Kai is not something I'm missing right now, it's something I'm..."

You trailed off, trying to think of a word that would match all the emotions you felt when you thought of Kai in your arms, in all his naked glory.

There was a short silence before Soojin suddenly suggested, "... Craving?"

"Mm," an involuntary sound that sounded like a half-moan and no where near as appropriate as it did in your head escaped your mouth and your eyes flew to Soojin who was gawking at you, definitely having heard you.

She burst out laughing as you sat up from the couch, your entire body feeling warm with part-embarrassment and part-other-emotions-that-you-didn't-want-to-name.

"You're so full of bullshit, Y/N," she giggled, shaking her head and taking your hand as she pulled you up. "Regardless of what you do with him tonight, I'm going to play my job as best friend and dress you up so good that Kai will be crawling to your room on his knees."

You looked at her, horrified. "That's the exact opposite of what I want."

"Fine, then," she shrugged, leading you to her room. "He'll see you and push you onto your knees, happy?"

"Soojin, oh my god--"

"Shut up, bitch. This is my house and in my house, I dress you up how I want to, whether you like it or not so shut the fuck up and take off your clothes, we got a slutty Cinderella to create."

Soojin wasn't joking.

You'd hoped against hope that she would be but she wasn't and you realised how dutifully she'd stuck to her statement as you entered the living room of your house, immediately feeling all eyes on you.

Your hair tied up in a complicated updo with a few strands hanging down and framing your face, Soojin had lent you a dress that had surprised you--an ivory-coloured satin dress that hugged your hips and thighs before flaring out slightly at the knees, accentuating your curves in all the right places, with a satin ribbon that crisscrossed at the back like a sort of corset. The only aspect of the dress that you'd hesitated about was the cowl neckline that would be dangerously revealing if you leaned any way too much.

When Soojin had said 'slutty Cinderella', you'd expected some daring skimpy outfit that showed way too much skin but as your brother waddled to you in a drunken-walk that you were familiar with, you realised that she had sneakily misdirected your thoughts by putting you in an outfit that didn't display anything directly but was teasing and body-shaping enough to leave plenty for the imagination.

Soojin, you evil bitch.

You hugged your brother, crinkling your nose as you smelled the alcohol on him and tried to understand the words that he was slurring drunkenly in your ear.

Your eyes suddenly caught a movement to the right and you froze in his arms as you saw Kai from over your brother's shoulder, striding out of the kitchen with a drink in his hand.

He stopped as soon as he saw you, eyes growing wide and your brother stepped away from you right at that moment, leaving you without a shield as Kai's eyes raked over you.

Your own couldn't help but drink him in--clad in a white shirt that was unbuttoned all the way to his mid-torso with frills at the front that only he could pull off perfectly in that typical-Kai fashion, tucked into black pants that elongated his legs, you felt your throat turn dry as you saw him.

God, it must be illegal to look that good.

And then Kai's eyes flew back up to meet yours which is when the realisation hit you:

His clothes were the exact same outfit that you'd admitted to lusting over when you'd seen it at a magazine photoshoot--you'd said that he looked like a groomsman whose jacket you, the bridesmaid, had tossed away and left him in just the white and black underneath.

And simultaneously, you recalled one night where Kai had especially drawn out the foreplay--you'd worn white lingerie and he'd admitted that he loved seeing you in white cause it gave off the appearance that you were innocent but only he knew how dirty you truly were, especially when he took the white garments off.

You'd mentioned this to Soojin. Not today or yesterday but almost two months back when it had happened, a conversation that even you hadn't remembered until you saw how Kai's eyes darkened from across the room--but apparently that Soojin hadn't forgotten.

I'm going to fucking kill her.

Kai took a step forwards, eyes still on you and you immediately heard sirens in your head. Hurriedly, you turned and exited through the front door, your legs taking you to the back of the house.

You don't know how many hours you'd spent running away every time that you even caught a glimpse of him. Yes, it was cowardly and yes, it was childish but you couldn't help it. It must have been about two hours later when a majority of the guests were sufficiently drunk that you found your way to the kitchen and had your first drink of the night--the vodka that you'd hidden away.

You were well into your third shot when you saw Kai in the living room, near the couch. There was a girl dancing around him and you saw the look of disinterest on his face as his eyes flitted around the room before finally finding yours.

The glass that you were holding froze mid-way to your lips and you watched as his eyes narrowed before he grabbed the waist of the girl in front of him.

You only saw him roll his hips sensually against her before you whipped your head around, feeling a burn in your chest that you were certain wasn't caused by the vodka.

God, I am so fucked.

Your eyes closed at the realisation and you suddenly felt rage boil through you.

There's no reason for you to run. You asked for this. You wanted a fuckbuddy and not a relationship. Kai was too boyfriend-material and by the time you'd realised that, it had already been too late. Which was why you left.

And now you could move on.

"Fuck it," you muttered to no one in particular as you downed the last of the vodka in your glass, slamming it down on the table and striding purposefully to the living room.

You grabbed the shoulder of the first tall guy that you saw and spun him around.

You couldn't remember his name but you knew his face well--it was a face that both Soojin and a lot of girls weren't fond of due to his fuckboy status and that was all the memory you needed to throw your arms around him as you danced wildly to the music.

You hadn't danced for long when suddenly, you felt a hand grab your arm, spinning you around to see the face of a seething Kai.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He yelled to be heard over the music. "I'm the one who makes you feel guilty but fucking Jason is completely okay?"

"You're my brother's best friend!" You defend yourself loudly. "My brother doesn't even like Jason. And who I sleep with is none of your business, Jongin, fuck off."

You turn at that to a tipsy Jason and you quickly mutter into his ear the magical words that no guy at a party can resist, 'Hey, do you wanna get out of here?'

Quickly heading for the door, you take Jason's hand and lead him outside your house, dragging him through the people that were dancing out front. When you were sure Kai couldn't see you anymore, you told Jason that you'd be right back and headed down the block to the grocery store.

Sitting at the small foldable table outside the store all alone at 4:17AM in the morning, you considered calling Soojin to ask her to pick you up before realising that you'd left your phone at your house. You lay on the table, wake up and loiter around the store for a while until you hear a whole row of cars drive past the store.

You glance at the clock above the cashier's head:

5:28

You take off your heels and leave the grocery, walking your way back to your house.

The front porch is empty and so is the living room when you enter. You close the front door as quietly as possible, hearing the click echo through the hall as the whole house is filled with silence, as opposed to an hour ago.

Sighing, you drop your heels on the floor and carefully make your way through the bottles and cups, too tired to clean up now. Making a silent vow in your head to help your brother tomorrow morning, you head for the dark kitchen and reach for the jar of water.

The moonlight filters through the curtains enough to illuminate the island counter and you pour yourself a cup, raising it to your mouth and cocking your head back as you gulp it down.

The water is down your throat when you feel a sudden warmth at your back. You glance down and see two familiar veiny hands at your sides, holding on the counter.

Jumping in surprise, the plastic cup falls from your hand as you whip around to come face-to-face with Jongin.

His eyes are darker than the night as they bore into you, the moonlight hitting only one side of his face while the other half is hidden in shadows. His hands have caged you between his body and the counter at your back but without touching you.

You blink up at him, heart racing erratically--both from being startled and from the proximity after a week of not seeing him.

You hated to admit it but your senses were already drowning in his familiar scent that you'd missed, your thighs clenching around nothing.

"Where did you go?" His voice was piercing and sharp, cutting through the silence.

You swallowed, the sound echoing. "I went with Jason."

"You're lying," he cut you off even before you could finish saying it. "You left him on the front porch. Where did you go?"

You stay silent, hearing your own bated breath.

Kai's eyes narrowed. "Y/N."

"G-grocery store," you weakly muttered, giving in.

"Why?"

You don't respond, suddenly hyper-aware of everything around you. Your heart was pounding in your ears, you could hear your heavy breaths and you could hear every breath that Kai took, feel all the heat that his body was radiating even without touching you and the way both your bodies were the loudest echoes in this dark kitchen on this moonlit night.

Taking a breath, you finally admit, "I needed to get away from you."

At this, Kai's entire demeanour changes as he straightens suddenly, eyebrow cocking up. "Oh really? How's that working for you so far?"

You don't say a word and then he's slamming you into the counter, the marble surface biting into your back as he grips your forearms tightly.

"You really think that you can cut me off so easily after making me fucking addicted to you, Y/N?" He gritted out. "You started this. The same hesitation you had last week, I had it that night at the bathroom. And the same confidence that you had on your bed, I'm showing you now."

You're breathing really hard now, certain he can hear how loud your heart is as you gasp, "Kai--"

He cuts you off with a heated kiss, one that was unlike the million that you'd had so far--filled with aggravation, teeth clashing and tongues battling for dominance. You lost readily, letting him explore your mouth with his talented tongue, swallowing your moans as you melted in his arms.

Kai pulls away when he's certain you're breathless, forehead pressed against yours.

"If you want me to stop," he breathes out heavily. "Tell me now and I'll leave you alone. I swear I will. No more fucking around. But if you don't, I'm going to show you exactly what it means to sin."

You're already gripping the front of his shirt, fingers roaming his warm chest hungrily. His hands came up and grabbed yours, holding them in front of you, making you glance up at him.

You blink hazily, already feeling every bit of fight and resilience that you had in you leave, wanting to be drunk in his arms, wanting to be drunk in Kai.

"Don't stop," you mutter, feeling your legs tremble as you threw your head back. "God, please don't stop."

Kai's lips were immediately attacking your throat, one hand holding both of yours in between you two while his other hand went to your back. You felt the knot on your back that Soojin had tied into a bow so carefully and neatly come undone and Kai's fingers moved quickly as they pulled the satin ribbon free from the loops on the back, the dress loosening around you.

He yanked the ribbon completely free from behind you and you watched as he placed it between his lips to allow his hands to tug your dress down. You heard him moan at the sight of your bare breasts and you started to reach for his shirt but he stopped you right as the dress pooled around your ankles. His foot steps on the hem and you lift each of your own feet, allowing him to pull it from around your ankles and kick it aside.

Taking the satin ribbon from his mouth, Kai wrapped it over and over around your joined wrists, binding them together and tying it tightly.

Your breaths were coming out in short gasps as you watched him, core already pulsating with desire and when he finished tying your hands, his lust-crazed eyes met yours.

"I've been wanting to do this ever since I saw you tonight," he mutters, hands going to his pants as he pulled his zipper down. "I'm going to show you exactly how much of a dirty sinner you are, Y/N."

You don't get the chance to respond as he spins you around by your shoulders, hand pressing into your back until you're arched over the counter, bound hands atop it and breasts pressing against the cold marble.

"A dirty sinner just for me," he whispers right in your ear before licking it.

"Fuck, Kai," you whine at the sensations spreading through your body as you feel his knees pressing into the back of your leg, urging you to spread your thighs.

You do so readily, and he raises his left hand to your mouth, two fingers slipping inside your lips, making you immediately suck on the long digits.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard and so good on this kitchen counter," Kai promises, thrusting his fingers into your mouth. "And you're going to stay quiet for me, baby."

You moan around his fingers, arching your back into him.

He continues, "Your brother is upstairs, isn't he? We don't want him to find out about how his innocent sister is really a dirty sinner, do we?"

You close your eyes, feeling his other hand wander lower.

"Look how wet you are for me," he mutters, kissing the back of your neck, his chest reverberating against your back. You choke on his fingers slightly as you feel his other fingers slip inside your wet folds, walls immediately clenching around him.

"Fuck, I've missed how wet you get for me," Kai groans as he flicks your clit incessantly, making you buck and squirm against the counter in a matter of minutes.

He removes his fingers from your mouth, trailing it downwards and replaces his right hand with his left, dripping with your saliva. You trash around at the sensation and Kai holds you tightly against the counter to steady you, his fingers thrusting into you deeply and easily because of your fluids.

You press your bound wrists to your mouth to muffle your moaning as you feel him bring you closer and closer to your high. Writhing on the table, your thighs began clenching around him and right then, he pulled his fingers out of your dripping pussy.

Collapsing on the table and focusing on being quiet, Kai doesn't give you much time to breathe from your almost-orgasm as you feel him coat the head of his erection with your arousal, wetting it completely before slipping it inside you.

You moaned, slapping your hand over your mouth as Kai began thrusting at an animalistic pace. It was rougher and faster than he'd ever been on you before, his fingers digging into your hips and certain to leave bruises tomorrow morning while the angle of his hips helped him reach inside you in all the sweet spots that had you seeing stars.

The air was hot and heavy around the two of you, filled with the sounds of skin slapping, your muffled moans, Kai's breathless pants and the water bottle trembling at the corner of the counter as he slammed you against it repeatedly.

Your breasts roughly brushed against the surface as Kai pounded into you. He suddenly grabbed your thigh and raised your leg.

The new position had you screaming into your hand as you felt his dick reach upwards, rubbing your clit just as he thrusted in and out of you.

Kai pressed his chest to your back, pinning you down to the counter table and right as his hand groped your breast, your orgasm crashed over you.

You shook over the table, legs trembling as you came around Kai's dick, his own orgasm following a few more rough thrusts later. You're dripping with cum and you can feel it trickling down your thigh as you lay exhausted on the counter, Kai's body collapsed over your own back.

"Still feeling guilty, baby?" You heard him pant and you couldn't help the smile that came over your face at the question.

"No," you admit honestly. "A little sore, a lot satisfied, and there's definitely no guilt or regret."

You felt Kai press a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck and the two of you lapse into silence, you focusing on the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breaths. Kai straightened suddenly, pulling out of you and you felt his hands on your shoulder, gently spinning you around.

His eyes scanned your face, fingers lightly tracing your chin. "You're okay?"

The soft question filled with concern had your heart swelling and you couldn't help it as you pressed up against him with your arms still bound, kissing him deeply. His arms grabbed the back your thighs, pulling you up on the counter and sitting you down on it as he kissed your neck. You arched back and fell on the counter.

Right then, a bright light flashed across your eyes.

You snapped your eyes shut tightly and were vaguely aware of red spots dancing behind your eyelids.

When you opened your eyes and squinted at the harsh light, you realised that Kai had stopped moving.

A chilly air suddenly blew past and you felt your blood run cold.

Slowly turning your head to the right, you see your brother standing at the doorway to the kitchen, eyes wide and hand frozen on the light-switch.

"What the fuck?"

#exo smut #exo smutfic #exo kai #kim jongin smut #hbd cousin #this was my personal favourite #cause dUH #happy bday hoe #i love you

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atinyreaderfangirling · 4 years ago

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I watched Midsommar (2019) last night and I have some thoughts.

There are some major spoilers ahead, so you’ve been aptly warned.

I watched the theatrical version first, and got high mid way, so you know it was a trip. I was convinced I made up the last half of the movie in my head, especially with the visual effects already included.

A couple things that I want to point out before I get into this

1. The Midsommar festival is not portrayed accurately. Ari Aster took his liberty to change some aspects to make it more interesting to the horror genre. And I’m okay with that.

2. This movie should not be held in high standards as some feminist movement. It’s a movie about a cult. If that doesn’t get into your head, you’ve missed the whole horror aspect of the film.

3. The movie does not, in any way, glorify cults. At least, I didn’t think it did. I did almost fall for it, which was unsettling. It’s not meant to be watched by impressionable teens, and the adults should be able to get the right message.

Anyway, with that out of the way let’s get started.

The movie starts of with Dany’s grief. She clearly has issues which leads her to be very dependent on her boyfriend, Christian, mainly because she feels like she has no one left.

We see her talking to him on the phone but also not being able to open up about what’s bothering her. She explains her situation with her sister and her worries (all the while trying to keep her emotions in check), and he counters that her sister just wants the attention. We then see Dany fumbling and eventually agreeing, moving on to showering Christian with compliments.

Dany is constantly trying to make sure she doesn’t overwhelm him with her “problems”. We see her trying to explain to her friend that she doesn’t want to come off as too clingy even though they’ve been together for at least a year.

A few scenes over, Dany’s family is found dead and we see her heaving on Christian (stunning performance by Florence Pugh, my heart wrenched just listening to her). We know Christian was actually going to break up with her before she got the news. As the scene pans out, we see the current state of their relationship. Dany in grief and Christian helplessly stuck.

What do we get from this?

1. Christian is a twat. He can’t connect to Dany emotionally and he has the empathy of a doorknob. He gaslights her (something shown more clearly throughout the movie in the Director’s Cut) behind the facade of playing the good guy.

2. Christian’s friends are also twats. While Mark is the only one speaking openly about her like an object, the others haven’t exactly been trying to stop him. The simply don’t care. I don’t count Pelle into this group for obvious reasons.

3. Dany has no one else. The incident pushed her to completely surround herself with Christian and his friends, so now she’s even more afraid of being dumped.

Fast forward, the gang is going on a trip to Sweden. Pelle meets Dany and stares at her creepily, and you already know the gears are turning in his head.

Throughout the movie, we see Pelle’s personality contrast significantly from Christian, Dany, and Josh’s. Therefore, he naturally settles into the “good” category of characters, right?

Wrong. And this is exactly where the movie was able to deceive me.

Pelle is shown to be the good guy, especially regarding Dany’s grief. He doesn’t impose himself, and after the first blunder, is able to make Dany warm up to him. He empathizes but also not really making a move on her, which makes us relax regarding his ulterior motives.

Chris and the Dicks are seen to have no respect for the community. They’re just here to make money, have sex, and do drugs. They take part in the festival with the fascination of an outsider.

Pelle represented his family at Hårga, so they’d fall on the “good side” too. While the American boys alienated Dany, the awkwardness among them thick as a fog, she (and I) began to realize just how connected the community at Hårga is. She naturally gravitates towards them. She feels safe, like she belongs.

Wisecrack points out, in a video, how Dany picks up the rituals and their justifications from early on, even before she’s quite comfortable with it. Right after the two eldest members of the community jump off the cliff during the ättestupa, Dany blocks out all sounds until a woman explains the ritual to Connie.

Looking back, it did feel like she had already begun to take in information that justified the cults’ actions.

We really connect to Dany in the movie. So much that while we’re hating on Christian for being the worst boyfriend in the history of the world, we miss/ignore the fact that the cult blatantly manipulated the situation. Dany was clearly targeted from the very beginning, and Christian needed to be removed.

Danny is seen having a complete break down thrice in the movie, the first one with Christian and the second one alone. These two may as well have been interchangeable with the amount of presence Christian has comforting her.

The third time, we see a significant change. She’s grieving but it’s shared among the women. As she cries, we feel that she has finally begun to let it take over her then let it go.

By the time the moment came for Dany to choose a sacrifice, she was part of the “family”. Of course, she chose Christian.

The story feels like we just got a happy ending. But did we really?

A characteristic quirk Midsommar is that it all happens in never-ending daylight. The characters (other than Connie and Simon) aren’t trying to escape. The people of Hårga don’t seem to be pretending to be happy. It all just feels natural.

This really was unnerving and set us off balance because it conflicts to the norms of horror movies. With the spooky atmosphere absent, we don’t realize when the climax of the film has already begun.

The horror in the movie lies in the fact that I completely disregarded the abhorrent acts of the cult because we felt Dany was happier with them. I justified Dany’s final act because Christian was an asshole. I completely neglected Connie and Simon’s death. None of them were ever going to get out of the place.

As the movie primarily hangs on to Dany’s point of view, I don’t realize that she is the character who gets influenced to jump to the “evil side”. I was so entwined with her emotions, I miss the point when my morals have been compromised.

As much as I love the shock values that a movie has to give, whether a movie is good or not comes down to the basics. Is the story good?

Midsommar didn’t have any tasteless jump-scares. Instead, we get to see ritualistic senicides and crazy sex rituals. Add the hallucinogenic drugs and trippy shots, we’ve got a flick that will attract to crowd.

But when you separate that from the movie, is the rest still interesting? I believe it was. Ari Aster truly went into depth with the vulnerability of people when they’re grieving. It was because he was able to portray that grief properly that this movie made so much sense.

The “horror” behind the plot is just that. Human vulnerability.

#midsommar #midsommar 2019 #ari aster #horror flick #folk horror #psychological thriler #movie review #horror #horror movie #florence pugh #folktales #rituals #cults #sex rituals #movies about cults #happy endings #trippy

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ariainstars · 5 years ago

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Balance in the Force

“Don’t lecture me, Obi-Wan! I see through the lies of the Jedi. I do not fear the Dark Side as you do.” (Anakin Skywalker in Revenge of the Sith)

„If once you start go down the dark path, forever it will dominate your destiny.” (Jedi Master Yoda in The Empire Strikes Back)

Did anyone ever suspect that even Grand Master Yoda might not be quite right?

Are the Jedi entirely good? Is the Light Side meant to be “virtue”?

The Jedi we get to know in the prequel trilogy are neither free from flaws nor are they perfectly wise. They like to believe they are so, but looking at the facts they often don’t see what’s going on under their very noses. As Luke himself pointed out many years later, it was their hubris that led to their downfall.

We are speaking of a Council that had a Sith Lord among them for decades without realizing it.

Yoda wanted to preserve peace, but by teaching Jedi adepts for centuries to choose the Light Side, he unwittingly created an unbalance which favored the ascent of the Dark Side users, the Sith.

Besides, what was it with taking small children from their families, forcing them to become Jedi (i.e. having to live a life of sacrifice) whether they wanted it or not? And why did they equip children with a deadly weapon?

Both Obi-Wan and Yoda wanted to push Luke to commit patricide, Obi-Wan even telling him an obvious lie (that Vader had been Anakin’s murderer) for the purpose. In the Mos Eisley cantina, Obi-Wan cut off the arm of an importune although he had not attacked him, displaying an unnecessary cruelty. When he still was Anakin’s teacher he suppressed him, belittled his ideas and his need for approval, even denied him the right to worry about his own mother. Yoda did not take Anakin’s fears seriously either. The Jedi’s code of non-attachment was fatal because it made their commitment to compassion hollow. They were so far off from “mortal” issues in their ivory tower (it literally looks like one) that they no longer saw what was really important.

Are the Sith entirely evil? Is the Dark Side meant to be “evil”?

We are led to think that the Dark Side is all evil, but looking closer, it’s not: while Obi-Wan and Yoda try to manipulate Luke, Vader is always brutally honest.

Anakin never was in denial. He got married despite the Jedi code. He decided to embrace his feelings, including his sexuality. Not only was he obviously calm and serene (balanced and strong) after his marriage;

had he not married Padmé the children who would later bring down Palpatine’s Empire would not have been born. These children always reached out to others, no matter what they went through.

Palpatine himself had encouraged the Jedi Council to set Anakin at Padmés side to protect her, most probably speculating that the two young people would fall in love and thus Anakin would have another weak spot; he assuredly did not imagine the role the children of this couple would play, as little as he imagined that Luke, lured to the Death Star by compassion for his father, would in the end refuse to turn, pushing Vader to redemption.

It was Snoke who bridged Ben’s and Rey’s minds, with the purpose of manipulating Rey to come to him; he did not count with the strong connection that would arise between the two, and that this would finally mean his end.

I remember that I was initially irritated when Han seduced Leia - I thought he was giving Luke, who was his best friend, a backhanded turn making a move on the girl they were both crushing on as soon as Luke was not around. But eventually this turned out to be the right thing, because Luke’s crush on Leia faded before he found out that she actually is his long-lost twin sister.

Luke briefly considered killing Ben because he was afraid of losing everything he loved, yet in doing so he pushed his nephew to the Dark Side, which on the long run caused the death of Han Solo, who had been Luke’s dearest friend.

So, from something that is or may seem bad, good can come, and vice versa. Dark and Light are not intrinsically separated from one another as Jedi and Sith like to believe. Ironically, they are very alike in this fundamental mistake.

Looking back, I believe that Anakin was not “consumed by the Dark Side” as was said by Obi-Wan and Yoda. Half of his descent to darkness began with his training as a Jedi; when we see him again in Attack of the Clones he is already teetering on the edge, he is no longer the pure and idealistic boy he used to be. Palpatine manipulates his weakness, but that weakness was - albeit not consciously - caused by Jedi’s efforts to stunt him emotionally. They wanted to force him to make a choice, but Anakin couldn’t; he instinctively felt that it was wrong and that the Force is naturally made of both sides. He was told over and over that it is wrong to care for others, but that was the one sacrifice he was not willing to make in order to become a Jedi.

Darth Vader’s “creation” visually illustrates this, too. Anakin is almost killed by Obi-Wan, the Jedi, and Palpatine the Sith creates Vader from his miserable remainders.

My impression is that, being the strongest Jedi of all and the central figure in the conflict, he got between both sides and was crushed. The fact that beneath all of his power he was indeed physically and psychically broken would emphasize this.

Also, it would explain why Palpatine did not immediately contaminate Anakin’s mind but left him to the Jedi first: he needed both Forces in him. Vader’s enormous power did not come from the Dark Side, but from the conflict raging inside of him.

In A New Hope, Vader is still mostly Tarkin’s lackey; in Return of the Jedi he is oppressed by Palpatine, his master. He is at the height of his power in The Empire Strikes Back, where he is on the hunt for his son! Which means he is yearning for the Light. (See also the symbolism of “animus” hunting for “anima”, a common trope in fables and myths.) Vader did come back from the Dark Side in Return of the Jedi; and his son could feel the conflict inside of him. But if there was a conflict, this obviously means that Vader had not chosen one side once and for all.

Luke said to Palpatine “I will never turn to the Dark Side.” However he did so, if briefly, when he contemplated killing his own nephew. A further proof of the fact that with the Force, one cannot make a decision and pretend to stick to it for the rest of one’s life. Temptation can come at any time.

Luke’s / Anakin’s blue light sabre, the one that calls to Rey, is commonly seen as a symbol of hope and justice. In his time as a Jedi, Anakin indeed often used it in order to help others. However he also used it when he raided the Jedi Temple and killed everybody, including the padawans.

Kylo felt so torn apart by the conflict that he was willing to commit patricide to finally join the Dark Side for good. To no avail; he was traumatized, regretful and deeply hurt, proving that there still was good in him despite the horrible deed.

His power, too, came from the fact that he grew up with a good (at least well-meaning) family but was secretly influenced by Snoke all of the time. Like his grandfather, he was at his strongest while on the hunt for his equal in the Force: in this case, Rey in The Force Awakens.

And both of them are never so impressive as while they fight the Praetorian Guards together as one.

The Force As the Human Psyche?

From the psychological point of view, one might say that the Light Side represents human conscience (Superego) and the Dark Side the impulse (Id). Now the Id is not “evil”; aggression and sexuality stem from the Id, which often leads to believe that it is. But the Id also means impulse, creativity, belonging. In other words, the Superego alone without the Id cannot know love. Without love, an individual cannot reach out to others, and who does not reach out to others is not evil but also not really good. For evil things to happen, not only the active participants are responsible but also the ones who do not see it, or see it too late to do something against it. The Jedi are a tragic example of this.

Though we get to know the Jedi as the “good ones”, one of their major faults is that they live in denial. Anakin / Vader never is in denial, and neither is Ben / Kylo: both are brutally honest, to themselves as well as to others. Which is often painful for their surroundings, but both Luke and Rey need them to tell them the truth, and to force them to look at it. Luke was traumatized learning the truth about his father, but afterwards he finally became the last and strongest of all Jedi; Rey was deeply hurt when she had to accept that her parents not only were dead but had indeed not wanted her, yet later on we saw her so grounded in the Force that she could make massive rocks float.

It may seem the most natural thing to do, and also a great honor, to become a Jedi (or a Sith) if one has the Force; but so far, we have never seen any Force user, Skywalker or not, finding happiness with this choice, whether he made it himself or whether it was thrust upon him.

I assume there must be a way that someone can learn to use the Force without having to choose to be a Jedi or a Sith. Both of these extremes do not ensure peace and happiness, neither for the Force user nor for the ones around them. Only a balanced Force user can find happiness, and bring fulfilment to others, too.

Leia would be a very good example for this: she always used her power for knowledge and defense, and she embraced her desire for belonging and her sexuality, too. She is very rightly paired off with Han, who used to be a small criminal but never was actually evil, and later used his shrewdness, earned through his many adventures, to help others.

So, what does this mean for Episode IX, the ending and culmination of the saga? Since the classic trilogy ended with the victory of the Light Side and the prequel trilogy told us the victory of the Dark Side, it can only end with Balance.

However, I am not sure that Ben Solo and Rey will “bring Balance to the galaxy” with their union. They must first and foremost find balance within themselves, and thus be the first of a new kind of Force users.

Rey was not tempted by the Dark Side yet; I am positive however that it is an important experience she must make, and her approaching the ruins of the old Death Star, where Palpatine is most probably lying in waiting, would hint at something like that.

Ben Solo, on the other hand, must prove that he has overcome the resentment in his heart. He needs to be an example for the fact that someone can go down the dark path, come back to the light and survive, and still want to reach out to other people. He needs to find forgiveness and new life despite his sins, not to be punished for them and forgotten.

Ben and Rey need to show the galaxy at large that Balance is possible; that a Force user, whether he is a Skywalker or an absolute nobody, needs not choose one side but that they can very well use the best from both sides; and that to preserve peace and justice one does not need to become a Jedi, but that anyone can do so who is balanced inside.

Because in the end, the Force is neither simply Light and Dark, nor is it grey; it creates diversity and binds everything and everyone together.

“You refer to the prophecy of The One who will bring balance to the Force. You believe it’s this boy…?” (Mace Windu to Qui-Gon Jinn in The Phantom Menace)

It is largely believed in the fandom that Darth Vader ultimately brought the much-needed balance by killing Palpatine. However, that act meant the destruction of the Dark Side and the victory of the Light Side of the Force: and if one side remains stronger than the other, that does not mean balance. Which could explain why, when we see our heroes again about 30 years after their “happy ending”, they do not look happy at all and we learn about a lot of disappointment and disillusion which they had to live through.

Nevertheless, I do believe that when all will be said and done, we will realize that Anakin Skywalker was indeed the Chosen One.

“Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.” (Yoda in The Phantom Menace)

Logically this must also mean that trust leads to serenity, serenity leads to love, and love leads to happiness. The old school Jedi may have been wise, but we never saw them display affection for anyone. Their fear of the Dark Side and philosophy of detachment was literally their doom; they feared Anakin Skywalker too much to show him the love and offer him the belonging he so desperately wanted.

It is true that fear and anger lead to the Dark Side, but the quickest way to fall prey to fear and anger is to deny that one feels them in the first place. Denial was the Jedi’s first step down the path that led to their doom, and plunged the whole galaxy into darkness. That he never denied the truth of his own emotions, nor of anyone else’s, was perhaps Anakin’s greatest strength of all.

To value love enough that he was willing to die for someone he cared for was perhaps the hardest, but most important lesson the Chosen One had to learn, and which he passed on to his successors.

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moody-cowdaddy · 6 years ago

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Friends in Low Places [Part 2 - End]

Arthur Morgan x Reader | Imagine #2

Summary: You finally make it back to Horseshoe Overlook with Arthur.

Category: Action, Fluff, First Meeting.

After riding for a while, Arthur's horse came to a stop in a wooded area that sat on top of a hill. The area surrounding you was lit up by a campfires, along with more than a few tents and wagons that were set up all along the perimeter. He clearly hadn't lied to you about a camp, there had to be at least 20 people here.

"Home sweet home," Arthur said, turning his head back to you.

He threw his leg over the filly before dropping down to the ground. He reached up for you to take his hand. You reached down, wrapping your slender fingers around his, his hands were rough and calloused, with a firm grip. He helped you keep your balance as you dropped to the ground. Clearly, the folks around here didn't miss a beat, as soon as your feet hit the dirt, a tall man with dark hair and mustache came barreling towards the two of you from the raging campfire that sat in the middle of the camp as the rest of the residents looked on, nervously. The man's hands were at his hip, ready to draw his gun at a moment's notice.

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"Arthur," the man barked, pointing in your direction with a scowl, "Who is this?"

You shot Arthur a nervous glance. He returned a reassuring nod of his head to you before turning his attention back to the man, holding his hands out as he walked forward to separate him from getting over to you. But you peeked over Arthur's shoulder to get a gander at what was going on.

"Calm down, Dutch. It's safe. The girl just needed a place to stay tonight," Arthur gestured to you.

"Safe?" The man he had called Dutch repeated. "Arthur, are you forgettin' that we just barely made it out of Blackwater alive?" He shifted his eyes to you. "She could be workin' with those Pinkertons just like the rest."

Arthur hummed, seemingly in disbelief at the sheer paranoia that the man in front of him was presenting. "Well, she's one hell of an actress then, I'm bettin'."

You took a step forward,"I'm not the law, if that's your concern.. sir"

"Hell, she robbed a man before we high-tailed it outta there." Arthur spoke, throwing his hand up to rest on his gunbelt.

"It's true." You nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Is that supposed to ease my mind?" Dutch looked between the two of you, "I told you to keep a low profile, Arthur."

Arthur nodded, "Sure. An' I have been. Fella was gettin' rough with her, so I handled it. All I'm askin' for is the night, Dutch."

Dutch looked at the two of you again before letting out a tiresome breath. "Just the night," he said before turning to you directly, "This ain't no handout camp."

You gave him a thankful expression, "I hadn't expected that it was." You reached down into your pocket to pull out the gold pocketwatch you had lifted off Jack. "How's gold plated sound?" You handed it over to him.

Dutch looked flabergasted at what he was witnessing. You had figured that he thought Arthur's comment about you robbing somebody was bullshit, but this was the thing to prove him wrong. He took the pocketwatch from your grasp, rolling it over and over between his fingers, inspecting it before a pleased expression came over his face as he finally placed it down into his own pocket. He looked down at you and gave you an acknowledging nod.

"We have food if you're hungry, and I'm sure Mr. Morgan will show you where you can lay your head for the night," he said, exchanging glances turning on his heel and walked back over to the others.

"Damn," Arthur whistled as he turned back to his horse, unstrapping the bedroll that was tied to it's saddle. "If I had known a pocketwatch was all it took for Dutch to stop his fussin', I would have tried it years ago."

"The first one's free." You smiled at him.

He smirked and tucked the bedroll under his arm, motioning for you to follow behind him as he led you through the camp. You were still receiving a few odd looks from people as they sat around the campfire, wondering who you were.

"Howdy." you said politely, giving a nod to the few men and women who scanned their eyes over you as you passed by.

A few of them nodded back at you, giving half-hearted smiles. Arthur led you over to a wagon that was setup as a makeshift sleeping tent, complete with a cot and small rickety table beside it.

"This is mine. Ain't much, but it'll keep you from layin' your head in the dirt. Take the cot," he said, unfolding the bedroll and placing it on the ground across from you. "I'll take the ground."

"No, Mister Morgan," you shook your head, "I couldn't possibly."

He held a hand up to stop your protest, "You can," he gestured to the cot, "I insist."

You sighed bemusingly and nodded, knowing he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. "Just for tonight."

"'Course." he shrugged, pulling his hat off as he lowered himself down to the bedroll.

You sat down on the edge of the cot, checking out your surroundings as you pulled off your coat. You looked over to the small table that was setup beside the cot, your gaze landed on a few odds and ends laying on it, including a picture of a woman.

"Would that be a lucky lady, or family?" You said, staring at the old photo.

Arthur squinted, looking over in your direction. He followed your eyes to the framed photo and gave you a small chuckle. "No such luck. That's my momma. She died when I was a kid."

"Oh," you said, turning back, "I'm sorry to hear that."

He shook his head, "No harm done. It's been years, feels like a lifetime ago."

You hummed, "I never knew my parents. Died when I was around 5."

"Shit," Arthur said, his rough voice going soft, "That's no way for a girl to have to grow up."

You shrugged, "Not so terrible, I reckon. But that's a story for another time, I guess."

You glanced over at the photo one last time before pulling yourself down onto the cot. You pulled your jacket over you as cover. The night air was still cool, and the stars were shining brightly tonight. It was nice to be able to stay outside and see them again. There low mumbling from the few people still around the slowly dying campire, the crackling of it's flames and the various sounds from the wildlife hidden within the dense collection of trees in the forest beyond being the only sound filling the night air.

You watched Arthur as he settled down onto the ground, kicking his feet up as he laid his head down onto a rolled up blanket. Luckily the night air was warm, so there wasn't wasn't a whole lot of need for any cover. You secretly stared at the man for a moment, before lowering yourself down onto the cot. There was something about this man that made you feel safe, even though you had barely known him for two hours, and Lord, he wasn't bad on the eyes either.

"Goodnight, Mr. Morgan," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Night, Ms. (Y/L/N)," he said, tipping his hat to you before pulling it down over his eyes.

It had been quit a while since you had a proper night's rest, and before you knew it you were out like a light.

When you woke up the next morning, there was a cool breeze in the air and the sound of birds chirps echoed from the trees. It had been a long time since you had a good night's rest, and now you were thankful that Arthur lended you his cot for the night.

You cracked your tired eyes open, letting them adjust to the morning sunlight that was now beginning to peek through the tent. Most of everyone in the camp seemed to be up and about already, including Arthur. You sat up on the cot, alone in his tent, rubbing the sleep away from your weary eyes.

After a moment, there was a sound of a throat clearing as you brought your eyes up to the entrance of the tent. Arthur was standing there with two tin cups in his hands, the steam rising up from them gently.

"Mornin'." His lips pulled into a small smile as he stepped forward, offering one of the cups to you. "Figured you might want some coffee."

You nodded silently with a small smile as you took it from his hand. He took a seat across from you in an old wooden chair as he reached down into the breast pocket of the blue button down shirt he was wearing to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He poked one of the hand rolled tobacco cylinders between his lips, swiping a match across the bottom of his boot to light it. You caught yourself sneaking a few peeks at the quiet man as you sipped the hot coffee. The warmth of the tincup on your hands felt comforting on this chilly, spring morning.

You weren't able to get the best look of him lastnight, so seeing him in this early morning light was almost as if you were meeting him all over again. You had to admit that he was a very striking gentleman. He was tall and lean, but he had no shortage of muscles from what you were able to see. He had a fair amount of stubble on his chin, and his hair was almost past his neck. You knew it was wrong to stare, but you couldn't help yourself.

But your admiration for his good looks were cut short once he glanced over to catch you staring at him. You quickly averted your eyes back down your cup of coffee, clearing your throat as you took another quick sip of the hot liquid.

"So, how long have you and your group been here?" You asked, breaking the silence.

"'Bout three weeks, give or take," he said, taking a puff of his cigarette. "Some times we move 'round so much, it can get hard to keep track."

"Travellers, huh?" You asked, jokingly. It wasnt much of a surprise to you what they were doing.

You had travelled with enough outlaws and gunslingers in your time to know what a group of them looked like.

He chuckled, seeming to find amusement in the question. He gave a small shrug, "Yeah, I reckon you could say somethin' like'at."

There was silence for a moment before you finally spoke up again, "how long are y'all sticking around here for?"

"Ehh, probably 'til we get ourselves in trouble," he said honestly. He looked up at you, his piercing blue eyes looking directly at you, as if he could see into your very soul, "How long ya stickin' 'round, miss?"

Your breathe hitched just the slightest when he looked at you, but you were able to shake it off fairly quickly, even if you did stammer on your words just a tad.

"I -I," you trailed off, letting out a breathy chuckle.

You knew you were being silly, and you knew that there really was no need for you to get yourself all flustered, you wouldn't know him long enough to have a reason to. You took a small breath and composed yourself. Arthur waited patiently, seeming to not mind that you were coming off as a right fool, but he probably chalked it up to you being a little nervous after your ordeal lastnight.

"I'll probably be heading out as soon as I get a horse. I figured I'd go out today and see if I can rope me a wild one," you finally finished.

He gave a small nod as he took the last drag off of his cigarette. "Well, I can give you a hand with'at, if ya'd like. Breakin' horses ain't no easy business."

You smiled warmly at him, "I would like that, Mr. Morgan. Thank you."

Later on that morning, you were over by the small makeshift pasture that the camp had to help Arthur get his filly, Athena, saddled up to go. It was a rather quiet morning and you could hear the low humming of voices and talking in the background again as you stood there with Arthur. For what it was worth, this was a rather nice place, and the company you were keeping for the time being wasn't so bad either.

You had already spoken to a few other of the camp members this morning, and most of them were pleasant. Hosea, Lenny, Charles, and Sadie had all introduced themselves when you came out of Arthur's tent. You were even able to get a spare change of clothes from one of the camp women whom said her name was Ms. Grimshaw.

But every place has somehing, or someone, that made everyone miserable and you'd come to find that out way sooner than you had liked.

"Athena, huh?" You hummed at Arthur. "Wouldn't've thought of you as a greek mythology buff, Mr. Morgan."

He scoffed back gruffly as he ran a corse brush over the filly's neck. "No, I reckon most wouldn't. Can't say I'm an expert, but I've done some readin' on them old Gods. Figured a strong horse like this needed a strong name."

"She is a fine animal," you nodded in agreeance, patting the horse on her side.

You weren't much for small talk with most people, but with this man, you genuinely were interested in what he had to say. He didn't didn't seem like the average man who had a whole lot of nothing to talk about. This man was intelligent and kind, which was a rare combination, especially in this neck of the woods.

The conversation was cut short when a long-haired man with a permanent scowl and look that practically screamed he was untrustworthy approached the both you.

"Now Morgan, I know you aren't tryin' to keep our house guest all to yourself," the man taunted.

You could instantly see Arthur's body go tense and stiff when he heard the man's voice sound beside him. His jaw went tight, and you could see the blank stare on his face as you watched his cheeks flair beneath his growing beard as he turned towards the voice.

He gritted down on his teeth with an exaspertlated sigh. "Watchu want, Micah?"

"Oh nothin'," the man held his hands up. His eyes were narrowed and it reminded you of the way a wolf looked when it was stalking it's prey. "I just want to introduce myself to our guest is all."

You looked up at the man with caution as he finally turned to you, holding his hand out for you to take it, and reluctantly, you did. Something seemed very off with this man, and he gave you the goddamn creeps.

"Name's Micah Bell, at your service," he smiled, bowing his head to you, slightly.

"(Y/N)(Y/L/N)." You answered back, forcing yourself to usher as smile through your lips that were pulled tightly into a firm line.

"See, that's how ya communicate, Morgan," Micah gave a smug sounding chuckle.

"There anyhin' in particular you wan't, Micah? 'Less it's orders from Durch, we don't have any business here," Arthur snapped at him. He was clearly pestered by him from the moment he slithered up to the both of you like a rattlesnake.

"Well, fine then," Micah answered. He turned to you, tipping his hat, "lovely to meet you, miss (Y/L/N)."

"Of course," you said, trying to be polite.

Once he walked off and made his way out of sight, Arthur seem to tense up just a little less.

"I take it he's not the camp favorite?" you inquired.

He hummed and nodded. "Sure as shit ain't my favorite. Pigeon-livered sonuvabitch's been ridin' with us for months now. One problem after 'nother. Don't trust him far as I could throw him, which ain't very,"

You shook your head, biting your lip as you tried to hold back the small laugh trying to escape your throat at his comment.

"Find that funny, do ya?" One corner of his lip tugged into half a smirk.

You shook your head, "I do apologize. But I see what you mean, the man seems insufferable."

"He's about as pleasant to be around as a horse with the colic." He shook his head, turning to you, "But enuff'a that. You ready to ride?"

You nodded, "Sure am."

He hopped up onto the filly, holding his hand out for you to take as helped lift you up onto her back with ease.

"Alright, let's go find you a horse," he said, giving Athena a slight tap with his feet, making her move forward.

You and Arthur stood on a small cliff that overlooked the plains. It was a beautiful sight with a clear view of the landscape and the towering mountains in the background. Arthur scanned the area with a pair of binoculars, waiting on a herd of horses to make an appearance.

"So, where ya headed next?" Arthur asked, lowering the binoculars.

You sighed, "I'm not really sure. I've usually just take a train and wherever it stops, that's where I am for a while. But, I figured if I get a horse, I'll just make my own way."

"Sounds like you live quite the adventurous life, miss (Y/L/N)," he remarked, cutting his eyes to you.

You rolled your eyes playfully, "Please, just call me (Y/N)."

"A'right then, (Y/N)," he said in that gravelly tone of his.

You'd be a liar if you said that his tone of voice, or, the man himself in general didn't make you weak in the knees, because he surely did.

"Ah, gotcha," he spoke quickly to himself, pulling the binoculars back up to his face. "We've got a heard of four. Hard to to say what the breeds are. Look like Standardbreds to me."

You walked stepped closer to him to take a look in the direction that he pointed out. You hadn't even noticed that you were damn near brushing up again him until he finally lowered the binoculars down for you to take a look. You could feel your face flush red as you took a step back from him, taking the binoculars from his hand. He must have noticed how close you were to him as well when he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Jus' take a look there. See which one you like," he said, pointing towards them.

You brought the binoculars up to your own face to get a better look. "Yeah, I'm willing to bet those are Standardbreds."

You looked over the heard for a moment, and the one that ended up catching your eye the most was a beautiful, solid black stallion.

"That black stallion," you said confidently. "That's the one."

Arthur sighed a tad, "Sure a stallion ain't gonna be too much for ya?"

Your narrowed your eyes at him slightly as you clocked your head to look at him.

He put his hands up in defense, with an impressed smile, "Okay, okay. C'mon, let's go get 'em."

The two of you mounted Arthur's horse once more, and the two of you took off on the trail that led down from the cliff as the horses came closer into view.

"Grab my lasso, will ya!" Arthur called back to you.

"No need," you said, "Ride up along side the black one."

Even with only one side of his face visible, you could tell this cowboy was questioning what the hell you were even talking about right now.

"Whatchu mean, girl?" He asked, sounding half impressed and half concerned.

"Just do it, Arthur," you called back. "Don't worry, I've done this plenty of times."

He shook his head at you and tapped his heels against the filly's sides again, making her speed up from a gallop to a sprint, until you were right on top of the herd. You could hear the neighing and snorts of the wild stallions and fillies as they darted off in the other direction, trying to put as much distance in between you and them as possible, but it didn't take Athena long to catch up to the black stallion that you had your eyes on. As Arthur guided Athena up beside the wild equine, you threw one of your legs up onto the saddle, hanging tightly onto Arthur's vest as you readied yourself to jump onto the spooked horse's back.

"Ya gonna get yourself killed, woman!" Arthur barked as he swung his head back around to you.

You flashed him a determined smile, "We're all gonna die sometime, Mr. Morgan."

You leapt from Athena to the black stallion as it ran parallel to you. You landed on it's back with an audible thud, you quickly tightened your legs around it's abdomen as tangled your fingers tightly into it's mane as you felt the first few shockwaves of it's bucking as it's gallop faltered and it began to slow down, moving more erratically in circles to try to get you off of it's back. The horse reared up, snorting angrily at you, stomping it's feet aggressively on the ground while kicking it's back feet outward. You did your best to hang on as it slung you around like a ragdoll, giving you more than. a few close calls. But you had your grip locked in tight on it and you knew not to let go for any reason.

Arthur's horse galloped in circles around you with his lasso at the ready as he watched in pure shock and amazement at what he was witnessing you do at this moment. He surely hadn't expected anything like this from you. He had never even known many men to be as bold as this this bold. The only other woman he had seen show fearlessness was Mrs. Adler.

"You crazy woman," he breathed. He was saying it more so to himself than he watched you, his lips parted as he watched you in amazement.

After a few more hard bucks and still failing to throw you off, the stallion slowed up his erratic movements to a few odd rears and kicks here and there as a last ditch effort, until it finally decided to give up all together as it snorted and threw it's head back a few more times. You finally loosened your grip on him enough to fit comfortably atop his back once you felt it was settled down enough. The adrenaline was still coursing through you as you sat there, letting yourself breathe. You gave the stallion a firm pat on the neck.

"Good boy," you praised.

"I think ya might be one'uh the craziest women I've ever met," Arthur's voice broke through the silence.

You were so caught up in what you were doing, you forgotten that he was there watching all of this.

You sighed, guiding the horse over to him, "Perhaps a little."

"So, what'dya do anyway? After last night an' today, I'm guessin' you ain't a church girl," he said bluntly, turning his head curiously at you.

You shook your head, the two of you headed back towards camp at a leisurely pace. "You'd be right about that. I feel like me an' you are probably in the same type of business, Mr. Morgan," you admitted, giving him a knowing glance.

He raised a curious eyebrow, "An' what kind of business might that be?"

"I know a group of gunslingers when I see them. Wouldn't consider myself much of a gunslinger, but you did see me rob a man lastnight," you said, shrugging.

Arthur nodded in agreement. He made no effort to try an deny what you already knew. "Yeah, well, that was deserved on that bastard's part. We do the best we can. We try to live as right as we can. We were all just'a bunch of misfits 'til Dutch found us. We're family more than anythin'."

"He definitely struck me as the leader. How's he likin' that pocketwatch?" you asked Arthur, jokingly.

"Safe to say, I think ya made yourself a friend for life on that'un. Ya know, he was askin' me this mornin' if you're plannin' on stickin' 'round camp," Arthur said, turning his head towards you, waiting for a response.

He said it as if he too wanted to know the answer to that. You couldn't help but smile, surprised by this revelation that Dutch had more or less given you his blessing to stay if you wanted to, and the fact that Arthur himself didn't seem to mind.

"I'd hate to impose on anyone, Arthur."

"Hell, who'd you be imposin' on, darlin?" He retorted.

You could feel yourself go flush again at his words. Hearing him call you darlin' had instantly lit a fire inside of you with an intensity that you weren't even aware that you were capable of experiencing. Your thoughts started to go hazy, and you began to wonder what real harm would come from staying just a little while longer with the group. They all seemed nice enough, except Micah, but you weren't too much worried about him, and you had to admit that Arthur livened up the place, and he definitely sweetened the deal when it came to you sticking around these parts.

You glanced over to Arthur, whose blue eyes met yours at an instant. You could feel the chills running down your spine anytime he looked at you directly like this. He looked as if he had a small smile on his face, like he already knew exactly what your answer to him would be.

You bit your lip absentmindedly as you stared at the handsome cowboy before you. "Maybe I can stay a few more days, if you wouldn't mind having me."

"I wouldn't. It'd be a pleasure, ma'am." He tipped his hat to you as his eyes lingered on yours for a moment more.

Maybe spending some extra time around here wouldn't be so bad after all.

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silverylion · 6 years ago

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Can we talk about Lance for a bit ?

There is something that really bothers me in season 8. I mean everyone is kind of still recovering but I feel like I need to say it anyway.

They chose to heavily feature Allurance from episode one cause they planned to kill Allura. It's a fact. As much as I don't ship it, they make a really cute couple with adorable scenes that made me smile and support them and I could have got over my disappointment regarding who I wanted to end up with Lance if only Lance had shown a bit of happiness by being with her.

No manner how we look at it, he isn't happy ! Why is that ? He finally got what he always wanted so why did they depicted him like that ? I really don't understand and that's what makes me so angry about all of this.

He doesn't seem like someone in love who finally got the girl! He seems hurt! Why is that ??

I'm ready to ignore the messy plotline of this season, the inconsistencies and everything that is wrong because overall, what I really care about is Lance as a character.

He means a lot to me because he is so different from the characters we normally meet in this kind of stories. He began as an annoyingly flirty boy who was desperately searching for glory to calm the insecurities he only show to few people. He was talented but needed someone else to acknowledge it to fully realize it himself. He was defined by his loudness and his love for love. He was looking for validation and a special person who would love him as profoundly as he love others. He had big dreams, big expectations, a bright future ahead of him. He wasn't overly masculine, liked being pretty and throw terrible pick up lines. He was funny, adorable I fell for him as much as I identified with (even if we are so different). He wasn't perfect, far from it, but it's also why I love him.

For many - including me - he was also representation. Not only for another kind of complex character but also by being Cuban and supposedly bisexual, something that seemed to be heavily implied so many times but I won't even talk about it.

During the series he has grown to be more self assured through the missions he accomplished with his friends, the people he met but most importantly Keith who trusted him and relied on his abilities, which definitely shown him his worth. I'm not even gonna talk about Klance as romantic. Keith is an important person for Lance's character, a friend he needed by his side along the way and that still was there for him in season 8. Which is really great, by the way.

I'm not gonna talk about the 'first choice' thing or the 'someone he needs, not someone he wants' or even the 'endgame' aspect of his romance. But yeah, that was all lies.

On this photo, Allura seems calm and happy, she seems like she can finally see a future with Lance and it's great. What is not so great, though ? When I saw this particular part in the episode, I stopped and watched Lance's face for about 5 minutes to try to understand. I don't see a happy boyfriend, here. I see a guy kind of unsure of what he is doing. I see a guy who doesn't know if what he is having is for real or even if it's what he really wants. He seems quite uncomfortable, tensed. It's maybe just a projection on my part but I genuinely cant see happiness here no matter how long I look at it. But maybe I'm really biased and don't see what actually is, you tell me.

Throughout the season, he was here to support Allura on her journey and it's great, but I would have wanted her to reciprocate it in a way or another. It's what Lance always needed and he didn't got it.

And in the end, he cried. I feel like he never really believed that this relationship would stick, that for whatever reason, they would end up parting paths. And the crew chose to kill her... In all honesty, Allura is not a character I really care about. I thought nothing about her in s1 and in s2, I started disliking her with what happened with Keith. But even thought I don't really care for her, making her die ? For seemingly no reason ? It's tough. And once again, I'm not even talking about how they killed representation or how people in the fandom can feel crushed by that, betrayed, even. I'm only remaining on Lance's side.

He never really had someone to reciprocate his love, something confirmed by his mom. He fell for Allura, casually at first, really hard when the series continued. What he feels for her is genuinely profound and I really liked that he confessed to her but even then... why did he seemed so sad ?

Just look at him !

He probably never loved anyone as much as he loved her. He sees a lot in her but he never felt like he was on equal ground with her. She is an awesome gorgeous space princess. He is just a boy from Cuba. (An awesome funny adorable space ranger but what do I know...). He never felt like he had a chance or deserved her affection. What about that ? It wasn't mentioned even once and I think that this is the reason of his constant sad face while he confesses, while he kisses her, while he conforts her...

I just don't understand and it makes me sad to see him like that. I know, he is just a character, I know this is just a cartoon, I know this just a kid show. But seeing a character you so much love becoming this sad guy that only support without reciprocation, this guy that loved love and is betrayed by it ? I just can't feel anything else but anger and disappointment for the wasted potential.

He ended up losing the woman he loved. The only person who seemed to reciprocate his feelings and because of that I think that he will always be a little more cautious about it because he has always been disappointed. He shot for the stars and fell hard. I fell hard with him. And as someone that feel that love will never go both ways, it just makes me even more bitter about this.

About the altean markings I don't know what to think. Some people think Allura turned him altean, others think she just left him something to remember her by. In both cases, this is wrong.

If the first theory is true, then what? What does that mean beside the ridiculous impossibility to change race? Did she make him altean to 'level him up' from his human status because he wasn't a match for her? Because altean are so much better? Because there was no need for that! Alteans are not all dead so why? For all I know, it wasn't to make royalty knowing that he ended up farmer so... once again, why?

If the second theory is true, well... That's even worst. She wants him to remember her ? I think he has enough around him for that, the status, the commemorations, the legend that will follow her, stories, his friends that gather to talk about her and how they miss her and what she meant for them... Giving him this will only prevent him from moving on. And it's harsh. I personally think that he should have moved on a long time ago. She never loved him, she was annoyed by his flirty attitude, by his simple presence sometimes. He should have seen that blatant rejection and accepted that yeah, he wants her but cannot have her. Romantic love wasn't something she cared about for so long. And then she fell for Lotor who betrayed her. And I think she honestly still doesn't care about Lance this way.

I think Allura didn't fell in love with Lance. She was heartbroken because of Lotor, because of the altean, because of the crown she lost, because she saw everyone with families while she lost hers. I think Allura just wanted someone that would take care of her and lift her burden with her. Just someone that would remind her that she is not alone in the universe, a distraction from the pain she was feeling. Someone that would ground her to prevent her from losing hope. He was easy, he loved her, she just accepted it not reciprocated it.

I see this like that because there was no real build up for their relationship. It wasn't a slow burn. It wasn't even reciprocal. She was sad that Lance felt so strongly about her and accepted their relationship for her own balance and because she didn't want to see her friend so sad. It didn't solve the problem for him though. Plus when the vision of Lotor, her ex boyfriend, told her to go get the creature thing she did but when Lance, her current (well past cause well, she's dead) boyfriend told her not to because it was dangerous and he cared to much for her safety, she didn't listen to him... Great. That's love folks.

I really could have fell for their story but seeing Lance so sad, so taken advantage of... He was so dull, no charisma, no joke, no stupid lines, nothing. He wasn't himself. He wasn't the Lance we saw grow during six to seven seasons. He wasn't the hero, second in command, courageous sharpshooter we all know.

And the sword ? Was it to foreshadow his future encounter with Alfor and Allura giving him blue markings ? Well, that was unnecessary. They could have done that without making people think that something more exciting would happen, that he would actually use the sword.

And the game show ? If they were to be together why the fuck didn't Lance chose her ? Why the fuck didn't she chose him ?... Well, she didn't because she didn't love him more than she loved the other Paladins. But why Lance didn't? Why make Lance and Keith chose each other? If they didn't want to involve them in any romantic kind of situation (they totally failed), they could at least have made them hug. And an emotional scene to express how much they care for each other to justify being worth choosing the other over anyone else to leave and not spend eternity in the game show. Keith was there for Lance and Lance was too obsessed with Allura to even ask about him. Great, even in a totally no homo friends kind of look it was badly handled.

Can someone explain to me the reason of the sunset setting ? Or why Lance freaked out when Veronica asked him to "put in a good word for her" with Keith ? They are friends, now, there was no allusion to their past rivalry. There was therefore no need for that kind of reaction.

He didn't save Shiro, for absolutely nothing. They never talked about it again. They never gave him the opportunity to make up for how bad he felt about that. He didn't event get a conversation with Shiro. They never gave a closure to Lance's arc.

Why do I feel like they did all that to make everyone pay for the shippers that made the toxic reputation of this fandom ? Why do I feel like the writers hate Lance ? Why do I feel like they totally baited us ?

The guy so in love with the idea of love ended up a lonely farmer. That's a great message for kids : don't even think that life will live up to your expectations no matter how hard you work for it. Don't even think that you can find any kind of fulfillment in your life, neither in love nor career.

I've never been in a fandom while a series was still going but I engaged in the Voltron fandom. I discovered it quite late but fell hard for it, it brought me so much happiness, so much hope ! I will never do it again because I'm not sure that the sadness and disappointment I feel right now are worth it. I will never be mad at the theorists and meta writers, they are good people who saw the extraordinary potential of Voltron, they probably feel worse to have spent so much time and energy picking up clues that definitely existed and only served to bait us.

In conclusion, everything Lance did this season was in a way or another related to Allura, as if he forgot he was someone of himself. As if the writers forgot who this character was. And it's painful.

At least there are still the beautiful fan art and fanfictions that really make him justice.

#voltron : legendary defender #season 8 was a disappointment #lance deserves better #allurance was so badly handled while it could have been so great #i just need to rant to be able to finally move on #i'm just sad right now #i will certainly drown my frustration in fanfictions #i'm still really grateful for the amazing people in this fandom though #this season contained good parts but didn't live up to the potential of the series

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stusbunker · 7 years ago

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Questions: What If?

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Setting: Season 10

Entry: Erica’s 30th Fluffy Birthday Challenge

Prompt: #16. If Tomorrow Never Comes- Garth Brooks

Chapter 4 of my Questions Series

A/N: Happy Birthday Erica @ericaprice2008! Thanks for letting a new SPN blog in on the fun. This developed into a series because there isn't enough fluff in the Winchesters' lives and I am now a sap. I think it is readable as a stand alone fic if you don’t want to read it all. This segment includes regular show violence, swearing, and monsters. Lyrics in italics. xoxo Stu

The case had taken its toll on her and Dean, leaving Sam to drive the Impala back to the Bunker. The passing headlights grew fewer as the late night hours bled into the early morning mists. Something had broken open inside him when Y/N was taunting the witch, the way she refused to back down. Her words ran through his mind like a bad radio jingle.

“I’ve no one left to lose, Elphaba. Give me your best shot!”

She couldn’t have meant it? After everything they had endured together, breaking free of Gadreel, losing Dean to the demon inside him and getting him cured and home. Hadn’t that made her one of them? Weren’t they hers to lose? Wasn’t she his? No, thought Sam. She wasn’t and he’d been a fool to pretend she felt more than friendship towards him. If her words meant anything, it was that he was, somehow, still naive.

He tucked the keys in his jeans pocket and bent over to open the passenger side door. The very few times Dean let him drive; she sat shotgun. Her face scrunching in the dim lights of the garage.

“Hmmm, don’t wanna move,” she whined, Sam couldn’t help but smile at her childlike pout.

“Come on Sleepy, your bed’s waiting,” Sam draped her arm around his shoulders, scooping her up at the knees.

“Yessss, score,” Y/N murmured into his neck without even opening an eye. He knew he was only carrying her for selfish reasons, but if both parties benefited it couldn’t be a total loss, right? She smelled of incense and her body lotion, the smoke lingering on her hair. He breathed her in before setting her casually on to her unmade bed.

“Thanks, Samwise,” she whispered before wrestling out of her jacket.

“‘Night, doll,” he replied too low for her to hear. Switching off her light as he gently closed the bedroom door.

The next day Sam found Y/N dancing around the kitchen, doing something that appeared to be cooking but bordered on chaos. She was blaring an old country song and two stepping as she fried potatoes. He waited against the door frame, not wanting to break her revelry. His stomach growled with the cooking oil in the air, his chest tightening with each easy sway of her head as she hollered along to the music.

“Oh, I’ve got friends- in looooooooow, places!” She finished, spinning to dump the first batch on some paper towels.

Sam tried to bite back his laughter, giving her a snarky slow clap as she realized he was there.

“Har-har, Winchester. Don’t act like it’s not true.” She stuck her tongue out at him and plopped the plate of potatoes on to the table. There was something baking in the oven and just as the second set of potatoes hit the fryer, she started to slice up a cantaloupe.

“Do I smell breakfast?!” Dean sauntered in, running his hand over his bed head. “Y/N? No, wait, scratch that, I’m not even going to ask.” Dean downplayed his surprise and grabbed his designated coffee mug.

The hunters quickly settled in for a shared meal, not eating over their laptops with research, not grabbing whatever fast food they could find. It was easy domesticity and Sam couldn’t help but savor it. Dean killed the mood when he began teasing Y/N on her pick of radio station, but she held her ground arguing that in the kitchen, “Chef picks the music and the rest should be chewing with their mouths closed.”

The day went on like any other, taking turns scrolling for cases, squabbling over the general chores that kept the bunker livable and occasional bantering. It was a rare good day. Y/N called it an early night, claiming she had a show she wanted to catch up on.

Dean gave her a salute-like wave as she slinked back down the hall in her pajama pants and slippers. Sam had mumbled a good night, trying to keep his eyes from following every move she made.

“Dude, what is with you?!” Dean tossed a bottle cap across the table at his painfully obvious brother.

“Nothing,” Sam stared back at the screen with his brow pinched.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, he shook his head and went back to reading. He drained his beer and turned in for the night. Leaving Sam to stew over his longing ache in solitude.

Two days later

Y/N loaded their bags into the trunk as Dean checked the oil. Sam was the last one out of the Bunker, hands full of coffees for the road. They had a half day’s drive ahead and were working out their strategy for interviews.

“Why don’t we take the parents while Dean goes and talks to the coroner?” Y/N asked leaning over the back seat to see Sam’s phone and the map of the town.

“Uh, why don’t I go to the coroner? Dean could probably sucker a pastry out of the vic’s mother.”

Dean looked over at Sam confused, yet impressed. “Look at you having my back.”

Sam shrugged, “Just don’t want to deal with hangry Dean later if this takes awhile.”

She shifted back into her seat, missing Dean’s gaze in the rear view mirror. He did not need this, whatever this was that was going on between Sammy and her. He held his tongue, worked the case and got some cheesecake. All in all not a bad day on the road. He didn’t like being the levelheaded one, but Sam was leaving him no option.

She swung at the shifter with Sam’s face. Her shorter arms forced her closer to the monster than she would have liked. Its eyes danced as it easily dodged her blade. Its lips curled viciously as it saw her tire, “running out of adrenaline there little huntress?”

“Why? Need a break?” She huffed and flipped the knife between her fingers.

“Sam’s going to be so devastated when he sees what I do to you,” the creature taunted.

“Yeah, well, if I were you; I would be worrying more about what I am going to do to you,” she wasn’t taking the bate.

The face she knew like the back of her hand made a look of mock revelation, “Oh, you don’t know do you?” It kept her circling in the condemned house, the furniture littering their paths as they each tried to get the upper hand.

“Yeah, Sam is fairly private, isn’t he?” The shifter tossed over a desk, forcing her to lose her balance. She hopped out of the way only to topple over the dingy sofa. It sprang above her, pinning her against the faded cushions.

“He thinks about you, like this, squirming underneath him, out of breath and eyes burst open with want.” She recoiled as the beast trailed Sam’s perfect nose up her jaw.

“Shut up, mutant!” She spat into its face, giving her the opening she needed, she rolled hard against the shifter, freeing her knife hand and slashing at its cheek. It growled in pain and outrage. She tried to scramble away as voices called from the back of the house.

“Sam!” She cried, the shifter stood, pulling her to its chest, holding her head at a neck snapping angle between Sam’s strong arms.

“Sam!” It mocked back. “Save me! Oh, princess, this is going to be a gruesome ending to your little ‘will they, won’t they’ saga.”

“Let her go, Sparky!” Dean’s icy voice barked as he aimed his gun at his brother’s face.

Sam’s face pinched as he saw her being held in such a way by his hands. “It’s going to be alright, Y/N.”

“Sam, I’m scared,” she played it up, giving the monster the dramatics it obviously craved.

“I know you are, I’m right here.”

“Seriously? One minute you’re threatening me and then lover boy shows up and you turn in to a sniveling mess! Woman up!” The shifter complained. “And you, Dean, mister tough guy, if you were going to shoot me you--” The shot rang out across the room. One silver bullet to the head from Sam’s gun.

“I hate when they bestow their judgement upon us, fucking monologues,” Y/N stretched her neck and stepped away from the corpse.

“Alright?” Dean asked, checking that the monster stayed down with an extra stab of his knife to its heart.

“Yeah, took you long enough.”

Sam approached her nervously, not sure how much she would want to be near him after someone with his face had just man-handled her. “Sorry, got a little tied up,” he held up his wrists to show her the chaffing from his bindings.

“Always knew you were a kinky bastard,” Dean muttered. “Let’s torch the imposter before we have to explain another one of your dead bodies.”

Dean dragged the body by the feet as Y/N and Sam cleared a path through the creaking house. “Are you hurt?” Sam’s voice dropped as she rubbed her lower back.

“Nothing a hot bath won’t fix.” she shrugged. “Also, you suck.”

Sam laughed, thinking she was referring to shifter-him. When her face remained serious, panic crept up his back. “What did he say?”

“I’m pretty sure it was a ‘she’, but anyway let’s just say I don’t like being lied to Winchester.” Her face was a stone mask, her eyes burning into him as the sourness of guilt flooded his stomach.

“Guys! Let’s go!” Dean called from the back lot. The moment was broken, she looked away and Sam swallowed all explanation.

The ride home was one of utter silence, broken only by the radio or Dean complaining about the lack of stations. Sam stared out into the night and Y/N curled up with her earbuds and her latest podcast. Dean was going to have to say something, but he was not in the mood tonight. He’d let Baby bring them home in one piece first, give everyone some space.

The next day

When she wasn’t hiding in her room with the door locked, Y/N had been short with each of them all day. Dean coaxed her out with coffee and a grocery run, letting the fresh air ease the mood before poking the bear.

“That shifter got under you skin, huh? It’s always tough when they look like somebody you care about.” Dean asked as he pulled into the parking space. She looked at him like he had something on his face, amused yet trying to politely listen.

“What?”

“Are you trying to have a heart-to-heart with me?” she sighed, rolling her eyes as Dean huffed.

“Whatever,” he slammed the driver door and let her push the cart. She kept him in check in the bakery, only letting him buy two pies for the week. They picked over the produce, knowing Sam would bitch if they got the wrong stuff. They approached the check out line joking with each other, the old cashier beaming at them.

“Aren’t you two sweet?” The lady’s tag read Francine.

“Thanks, Franny, but she’s my sister.” Dean continued to flirt with the clerk as Y/N got the bags back into the cart.

“You two drive safe!” The smitten lady waved, Dean having made her day.

“Sister, huh?” Y/N bumped Dean with her shoulder as they fitted the bags carefully on the floor of the backseat, not wanting to pop the trunk in a busy parking lot.

“Yeah, I mean, would you prefer sister-in-law?” Dean gave her a look.

“Don’t, Dean. Just, not right now,” her voice fell and he knew he had hit a nerve.

“That’s what this is about? What the hell did that shifter say?!” Dean refused to start the car until she gave the unsavory details, his knuckles white against the wheel at times. She couldn’t look him in the eye, but her voice gave her away.

“So you’re pissed because Sam hasn’t told you how he feels?” Dean guessed, half certain he was keeping up.

“Is that how he feels?” Y/N challenged, watching Dean’s face as he realized he had walked right into that.

“You’re going to have to ask him that.” Dean exhaled as she accepted his complete bullshit response. “But, and this is a big but, would it be a bad thing if he did?”

Y/N mulled over that question, just giving Dean a tortured look as he finally pulled back into traffic.

She helped Dean sort the groceries, before snagging a bag of Krunchers and disappearing back into her room for the night. Dean approached Sam with a beer and a stern look.

“You have got to talk to her, man. Whatever is going on between you two? I’m done. I had my Dr. Phil moment and now it’s on you.” Dean raised his bottle in a toasting motion and slumped into his usual spot at the library table.

“What’d she say?” Sam asked, lips tightening and leaning forward.

“Nuh-uh, man,” Dean gave his brother an incredulous look. “I like my parts where they are thank you very much.”

After a few minutes of heavy silence, Dean broke, “Come on! You don’t pansy out like this, go tell her.” Dean scrolled on his computer, trying to move past the awkwardness.

“Tell her what?” Sam asked, tisking, failing horribly at hiding his emotions.

Dean cleared his throat and looked Sam straight in the eye. “You’ve been trying to lie to me since you were four, Sam. You’re still terrible at it. Especially when it comes to this crap.”

Dean wasn’t having it, not anymore. Sam’s mouth curled down with his embarrassment, he scratched the back of his head in chagrin.

“I don’t know, man. I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Look, I’m not Mister-Happy-Endings-- But if I’ve learned ANYTHING is that you take the good things as they come. Guys like us, it doesn’t happen too often.” Dean’s hand was palm up like it was an offer, eyes wide, hoping that Sam would stop overthinking for once.

Sam’s lips were tight, listening to Dean as if in conflict. He should have made an argument, but wanted Dean to be right. Sam needed her in his life, for however long she would stay. Could he risk losing her by admitting how he felt?

An hour later

Sam lingered outside of her bedroom door, his chest rising with calming breaths that weren’t helping. She was blasting her music again, but something like a sob resonated below the melody. Sam’s worry overtook his fear and he knocked.

“Go away!” she snapped.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” Sam’s voice was rougher than he meant it, but he had to nearly scream to make it over the song.

“Just leave me alone,” she growled back.

“Not gonna happen.” Sam tucked his hair behind his ears and pressed his head to the door.

“Stubborn sonofabitch,” he heard her say, soon the door swung open, causing him to catch himself on the door jam. “What?!” Her eyes were red and her hair was matted, and Sam couldn’t stop staring at her.

And the thought crosses my mind If I never wake up in the morning Would she ever doubt the way I feel About her in my heart

If tomorrow never comes-

She just glared at him, shaking the door with the hand she didn’t have balled on her hip. “I love you.”

“What?!” She shouted, his voice lost in the old Garth Brooks’ song. She spun to turn the dial to a conversational level. Sam scrunched his nose and cleared his throat as she turned back around, the loose sides of her robe swaying with the motion. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Her features had turned curious, her arms crossed over her chest. He ducked his head down and stepped closer to her. “I love you.”

“What?” She asked again, eyes glistening as her head tilted to see him better.

He chuckled, “Third times a charm, huh? I love you, Y/N. I just thought you should know. I don’t know what that shifter said was running through my head, but I shouldn’t have hid this from you, for so long.”

Sam smiled shyly down at her now. His eyes hooded in anticipation and an inkling of hope. She reached up and brushed his hair back, a soft smile curling her luscious lips. He closed his eyes at the softness of her palm, relishing in the closeness. “I love you, too, Sam.” Her voice cracked, but the richness returned as she finished, “but you still suck.”

He outright laughed now, a deep chortle, as his hands snaked around her waist. “May I?” he asked as he angled his face just above hers. She answered by diving in, taking his waiting lips in a hungry kiss. He melted against her and forgot everything that had been keeping him from this bliss.

Next Chapter: Where?

@dontshootmespence @madlu45 @because-imma-lady-assface

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patriotsnet · 3 years ago

Text

What Do Democratic Republicans Believe In

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/what-do-democratic-republicans-believe-in/

What Do Democratic Republicans Believe In

Famous Republican Vs Democratic Presidents

Republicans have controlled the White House for 28 of the last 43 years since Richard Nixon became president. Famous Democrat Presidents have been Franklin Roosevelt, who pioneered the New Deal in America and stood for 4 terms, John F. Kennedy, who presided over the Bay of Pigs invasion and the Cuban missile crisis, and was assassinated in Office; Bill Clinton, who was impeached by the House of Representatives; and Nobel Peace Prize winners Barack Obama and Jimmy Carter.

Famous Republican Presidents include Abraham Lincoln, who abolished slavery; Teddy Roosevelt, known for the Panama Canal; Ronald Reagan, credited for ending the Cold War with ; and the two Bush family Presidents of recent times. Republican President Richard Nixon was forced to resign over the Watergate scandal.

To compare the two parties’ presidential candidates in the 2020 elections, see Donald Trump vs Joe Biden.

The Third Party System

The Third Party System lasted from about 1854 to the mid-1890s, and featured profound developments in issues of nationalism, modernization, and race. It was dominated by the new Republican Party , which claimed success in saving the Union, abolishing slavery and enfranchising the freedmen, while adopting many Whiggish modernization programs such as national banks, railroads, high tariffs, homesteads, social spending , and aid to land grant colleges. While most elections from 1874 through 1892 were extremely close, the opposition Democrats won only the 1884 and 1892 presidential elections. The northern and western states were largely Republican, save for closely balanced New York, Indiana, New Jersey, and Connecticut. After 1874, the Democrats took control of the âSolid South. â

What Was John Quincy Adamss Childhood Like

John Quincy Adams was the eldest son of and Abigail Adams. Growing up during the American Revolution, he watched the Battle of Bunker Hill from Penns Hill and heard the cannons roar across the Back Bay in . He accompanied his father on diplomatic missions to Europe and studied in and , Netherlands.

Democratic Socialism Vs Trumpism

What probably rankles the Trumpians and scares the bejeebers out of them is the fact that more Americans, especially young folks, are giving democratic socialism a look and liking what they see hence the rise of the Sanders movement.

The old red-baiting and the lies that democratic socialism or social democracy is the same as Stalinism are falling on more and more deaf ears.

Communism is about gone. In Russia, Trumps pal Putin, the ex-KGB guy, has replaced Marxism-Leninism with fascism even after 27 million Russians died fighting Hitler and fascism.

And in America, Trumpism is looking more and more like Putinism. If we can turn back Trumpism in this election, perhaps we can begin the discussion about what sort of nation we really want to be. And that discussion should include democratic socialism.

What Is The Most Distinctive Feature Of Democracy

The most distinctive feature of democracy is that its examination never gets over because:

As people realise the benefits of democracy, they ask for more and want to make democracy even better.

The fact that people complain regarding the working of democracy is a testimony to the success of democracy.

What Does Democratic Mean

Starting alphabetically, the word means pertaining to or of the nature of democracy or a democracy.

Simply put, the lowercase democratic is a word used to refer to anything that resembles or has to do with a , a form of in which the supreme power rests with the people and is exercised by them directly or by politicians that they elect to them. In practice, this is usually accomplished through a fair, organized system of voting, in which or cast votes in support of political or societal issues .

So, the word democratic is used to describe government systems that are or resemble democracies and the people that run these types of governments. The United States of America is a representative democracy in which the people elect representatives to perform the demands of politics on their behalf. This is why we say that the US is a democratic country or that we have a democratic form of government.

The English word democratic dates all the way back to the late 1500 and early 1600s. It is derived from the Greek word dmokratía . The government system of the ancient Greek of Athens, in which the people held the power , is considered the worlds first democracy. Considering that Athens was a slave-owning society, its form of democracy was much different than the democratic governments of today.

Trump Loses Then Attempts A Coup

In Georgia, Trump is attacking the Republican governor, lieutenant governor and secretary of state. In Arizona, he is attacking Republican Gov. Doug Ducey, who has been a GOP statewide officeholder for more consecutive years than Trump has been a Republican.

The reason? They are not willing to try to overturn duly certified election results in their states.

There has been an attempted coup of the presidential election taking place. But Trump is not the victim. He is the perpetrator.

The legal strategy was to delay certification of election results. The political strategy was to pressure Republican officials to ignore the election results, irrespective of whether they were certified, and have Republican state legislatures chose Trump electors in states where Biden won the vote.

What Are The Basic Ideals Of The Democracy

According to American political scientist Larry Diamond, democracy consists of four key elements: a political system for choosing and replacing the government through free and fair elections; the active participation of the people, as citizens, in politics and civic life; protection of the human rights of all citizens;

Democratic Views On The Death Penalty

Democratic views on the death penalty revolve around the opinion that it must only be used in certain cases. The 2012 Democratic Party Platform stated, we believe that the death penalty must not be arbitrary. DNA testing should be used in all appropriate circumstances, defendants should have effective assistance of counsel, and the administration of justice should be fair and impartial. Previous Democratic platforms have stated, in all death row cases, we encourage thorough post-conviction reviews. We will put the rights of victims and families first again. And we will push for more crime prevention, to stop the next generation of crime before its too late. As a party, Democrats believe that stricter punishment, such as the death penalty, work as a preventative measure to keep crime from happening to begin with. Democrats strongly support the death penalty in cases of those who have murdered policemen and terrorists. Bill Clinton and Al Gore fought to have this punishment put into place for these criminals. The party is currently divided on whether or not the death penalty should be applied to all convicted murderers. However, not all Democrats share this view. Lieutenant Governor Gavin Newsome of California says, I think we should repeal the death penalty. Its not a deterrent; there are racial components to it. Martin OMalley, governor of Maryland, believes similarly. He says Its wasteful. Its ineffective. It doesnt work to reduce violent crime.

Regulating The Economy Democratic Style

The Democratic Party is generally considered more willing to intervene in the economy, subscribing to the belief that government power is needed to regulate businesses that ignore social interests in the pursuit of earning a for shareholders. This intervention can come in the form of regulation or taxation to support social programs. Opponents often describe the Democratic approach to governing as “tax and spend.”

Why Did The Democratic And Republican Parties Switch Platforms

02 November 2020

Around 100 years ago, Democrats and Republicans switched their political stances.

The Republican and Democratic parties of the United States didn’t always stand for what they do today.

During the 1860s, Republicans, who dominated northern states, orchestrated an ambitious expansion of federal power, helping to fund the transcontinental railroad, the state university system and the settlement of the West by homesteaders, and instating a national currency and protective tariff. Democrats, who dominated the South, opposed those measures.

After the Civil War, Republicans passed laws that granted protections for Black Americans and advanced social justice. And again, Democrats largely opposed these apparent expansions of federal power.

Sound like an alternate universe? Fast forward to 1936.

Democratic President Franklin Roosevelt won reelection that year on the strength of the New Deal, a set of Depression-remedying reforms including regulation of financial institutions, the founding of welfare and pension programs, infrastructure development and more. Roosevelt won in a landslide against Republican Alf Landon, who opposed these exercises of federal power.

So, sometime between the 1860s and 1936, the party of small government became the party of big government, and the party of big government became rhetorically committed to curbing federal power.

Foreign Policy And National Defense

Republicans supported Woodrow Wilsons call for American entry into World War I in 1917, complaining only that he was too slow to go to war. Republicans in 1919 opposed his call for entry into the League of Nations. A majority supported the League with reservations; a minority opposed membership on any terms. Republicans sponsored world disarmament in the 1920s, and isolationism in the 1930s. Most Republicans staunchly opposed intervention in World War II until the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941. By 1945, however, internationalists became dominant in the party which supported the Cold War policies such as the Truman Doctrine, the Marshall Plan, and NATO.

Working Role Of Government And Society

The Democratic point of view sets standards for American society and the role of the government in that society. The fundamental beliefs about society and government is that:

Societies must have laws that the majority of the people support and accept.

Dissenting minorities are protected and have the right to have an opinion different than the majority.

The people rule and thus, the people rule elect a government.

The government should respect and protect individual rights.

The government should also protect and respect individual freedoms.

Civil liberties must be guaranteed for ALL citizens by the government.

The government must work for the common good.

Most, if not all, of these solid Democratic beliefs, are outlined and protected by the United States Constitution. Many of todays hot issues violate some of these tenets. The Homeland Security Act, for example, removes some of the individual freedoms and rights from American Citizens. Republicans feel that the loss of these rights is for the common good; Democrats disagree.

Before pledging membership or allegiance to either political party, Americans should educate themselves about what each party believes and what each party stands for to be sure that their own beliefs agree.

June 27, 2018

Who Created The First Political Parties

It featured two national parties competing for control of the presidency, Congress, and the states: the Federalist Party, created largely by Alexander Hamilton, and the rival Jeffersonian Democratic-Republican Party, formed by Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, usually called at the time the Republican Party (note:

READ: What does it mean when a girl says talk soon?

Why The Gops Lack Of Party Platform Matters

President Trumps refusal to commit to accepting Novembers election results is the latest example of this president abandoning the norms of constitutional democracy. And although high-profile Republicans have issued statements affirming that they support a peaceful transfer of power, they have also been carefully deferential to Trump.

This is a notable continuation of the party slowly becoming the party of Trump. Nowhere was this clearer than in the decision not to have a 2020 party platform and instead simply affirming enthusiastic support for Trump and his America First agenda. That move, more so than statements pledging fealty to the peaceful transfer of power, signals wavering Republican commitment toward equal rights and democracy.

Platforms declare a partys values and commitments. While the substance of the Democratic and Republican platforms often differs sharply, both have historically used certain key words, like the American Dream, economic opportunity and freedom from discrimination. Examining Republican platforms over time shows that what once had been a big-tent strategy of carefully managing intraparty differences over equality has been replaced by a hierarchical model of leadership where the party faithful should acquiesce to one individuals vision of political community. Indeed, the 2020 resolution ruled out of order any effort to adopt a platform.

Who Are Prominent Democrats

Notable Democrats include Franklin D. Roosevelt, who was the only president to be elected to the White House four times, and Barack Obama, who was the first African American president . Other Democratic presidents include John F. Kennedy, Jimmy Carter, and Bill Clinton. The latters wife, Hillary Clinton, made history in 2016 as the first woman to win the presidential nomination of a major U.S. political party, though she ultimately lost the election. In 1968 Shirley Chisholm won a seat in the U.S. House of Representatives, becoming the first African American woman elected to , and in 2007 Nancy Pelosi became the first woman to serve as of the House.

Democratic Party, in the United States, one of the two major political parties, the other being the Republican Party.

political cartoon: donkey Harper’s Weekly

Democrats Think Many Republicans Sincere And Point To Policy

Democrats, however, were somewhat more generous in their answers. More than four in ten Democratic voters felt that most Republican voters had the countrys best interests at heart . And many tried their best to answer from the others perspective. A 45-year-old male voter from Ohio imagined that as a Republican, he was motivated by Republicans harsh stance on immigration; standing up for the 2nd Amendment; promised tax cuts. A 30-year-old woman from Colorado felt that Republican votes reflected the desires to stop abortion stop gay marriage from ruining our country and give us our coal jobs back.

Other Democrats felt that their opponents were mostly motivated by the GOPs opposition to Obamacare, lower taxes and to support a party that reduced unemployment.

Energy Issues And The Environment

There have always been clashes between the parties on the issues of energy and the environment. Democrats believe in restricting drilling for oil or other avenues of fossil fuels to protect the environment while Republicans favor expanded drilling to produce more energy at a lower cost to consumers. Democrats will push and support with tax dollars alternative energy solutions while the Republicans favor allowing the market to decide which forms of energy are practical.

Public Opinion On Foreign Policy

In June 2014 the Quinnipiac Poll asked Americans which foreign policy they preferred:

A) The United States is doing too much in other countries around the world, and it is time to do less around the world and focus more on our own problems here at home. B) The United States must continue to push forward to promote democracy and freedom in other countries around the world because these efforts make our own country more secure.

Democrats chose A over B by 65%-32%; Republicans chose A over B by 56% to 39%; Independents chose A over B by 67% to 29%.

Taking The Perspective Of Others Proved To Be Really Hard

The divide in the United States is wide, and one indication of that is how difficult our question proved for many thoughtful citizens. A 77-year-old Republican woman from Pennsylvania was typical of the voters who struggled with this question, telling us, This is really hard for me to even try to think like a devilcrat!, I am sorry but I in all honesty cannot answer this question. I cannot even wrap my mind around any reason they would be good for this country.

Similarly, a 53-year-old Republican from Virginia said, I honestly cannot even pretend to be a Democrat and try to come up with anything positive at all, but, I guess they would vote Democrat because they are illegal immigrants and they are promised many benefits to voting for that party. Also, just to follow what others are doing. And third would be just because they hate Trump so much. The picture she paints of the typical Democratic voter being an immigrant, who goes along with their party or simply hates Trump will seem like a strange caricature to most Democratic voters. But her answer seems to lack the animus of many.

Democrats struggled just as much as Republicans. A 33-year-old woman from California told said, i really am going to have a hard time doing this but then offered that Republicans are morally right as in values, going to protect us from terrorest and immigrants, going to create jobs.

History Of The Democratic Party

The party can trace its roots all the way back to Thomas Jefferson when they were known as Jeffersons Republicans and they strongly opposed the Federalist Party and their nationalist views. The Democrats adopted the donkey as their symbol due to Andrew Jackson who was publicly nicknamed jackass because of his popular position of let the people rule. The Democratic National Committee was officially created in 1848. During the civil war a rift grew within the party between those who supported slavery and those who opposed it. This deep division led to the creation of a new Democratic party, the one we now know today.

Adams And The Revolution Of 1800

Presidency of John AdamsThomas JeffersonJohn Adams

Shortly after Adams took office, he dispatched a group of envoys to seek peaceful relations with France, which had begun attacking American shipping after the ratification of the Jay Treaty. The failure of talks, and the French demand for bribes in what became known as the XYZ Affair, outraged the American public and led to the , an undeclared naval war between France and the United States. The Federalist-controlled Congress passed measures to expand the army and navy and also pushed through the Alien and Sedition Acts. The Alien and Sedition Acts restricted speech that was critical of the government, while also implementing stricter naturalization requirements. Numerous journalists and other individuals aligned with the Democratic-Republicans were prosecuted under the Sedition Act, sparking a backlash against the Federalists. Meanwhile, Jefferson and Madison drafted the Kentucky and Virginia Resolutions, which held that state legislatures could determine the constitutionality of federal laws.

Early Life And Career

John Adams entered the world at the same time that his maternal great-grandfather, John Quincy, for many years a prominent member of the , was leaving ithence his name. He grew up as a child of the American Revolution. He watched the Battle of Bunker Hill from Penns Hill and heard the roar across the Back Bay in . His patriot father, John Adams, at that time a delegate to the Continental Congress, and his patriot mother, Abigail Smith Adams, had a strong molding influence on his education after the war had deprived Braintree of its only schoolmaster. In 1778 and again in 1780 the boy accompanied his father to . He studied at a private school in in 177879 and at the University of Leiden, , in 1780. Thus, at an early age he acquired an excellent knowledge of the language and a smattering of . In 1780, also, he began to keep regularly the diary that forms so a record of his doings and those of his contemporaries through the next 60 years of American history. Self-appreciative, like most of the Adams clan, he once declared that, if his diary had been even richer, it might have become “next to the Holy Scriptures, the most and valuable book ever written by human hands.”

Religion And The Belief In God Is Vital To A Strong Nation

Republicans are generally accepting only of the Judeo-Christian belief system. For most Republicans, religion is absolutely vital in their political beliefs and the two cannot be separated. Therefore, separation of church and state is not that important to them. In fact, they believe that much of what is wrong has been caused by too much secularism.

Those are the four basic Republican tenets: small government, local control, the power of free markets, and Christian authority. Below are other things they believe that derive from those four ideas.

Democratic Views On Health Care

The Democratic view on health care is based around the idea that accessible, affordable, high quality health care is part of the American promise, that Americans should have the security that comes with good health care. Democrats believe that no American should have to face financial destitution because they fall ill or get injured, stating that no one should have to choose between taking their child to a doctor and paying the rent. They are firm supporters of laws that prevent insurance companies from covering Americans with pre-existing medical conditions, capping or cancelling coverage, or charging women more due simply to gender. They also support allowing young Americans who are just entering the workforce to stay on their parents health care plans. They believe in preserving Medicare benefits for seniors. Democrats are strong supporters of the Affordable Care Act and of strengthening Medicare. Democrats stand in support of stem cell research, as well as other medical research, as a means to develop cures and treatments. They also support tax credits to businesses who offer quality, affordable healthcare, and tax credits to Americans who are approaching 65 and are not working, so that they can continue to afford healthcare until their Medicare benefits come into effect.

Opinion:almost Half Of Republicans Admit Theyre Ready To Ditch Democracy

Almost half of Republicans are now saying the quiet part out loud: Theyd prefer to ditch this whole democracy thing.

So finds CBS News-YouGov conducted in mid-May. The survey asked Republicans a series of questions about the required level of fealty to former president Donald Trump, their views of the 2020 election and priorities for the party going forward.

The results were bleak.

Two-thirds said it was important for Republicans to be loyal to Donald Trump now. The same share said they did not believe President Biden was the legitimate winner of the 2020 election. recent that I dont think anybody is questioning the legitimacy of the presidential election.)

But the most troubling results came from a question about the partys best strategy for winning in 2022 and 2024. If you were consulting for the party, respondents were asked, would you focus on developing a message and popular policies and ideas to win over more voters? Or would you prioritize changes to the voting rules in states and districts?

A whopping 47 percent chose the latter option. In other words, nearly half of those who still identify as Republicans appear to have given up on a key premise of democracy: that you earn the right to govern by proposing ideas that appeal to a majority of the public. Theyd prefer to short-circuit that process and,instead, make it harder for their opponents to vote.

So much for party of ideas, as the GOP once called itself.

Why Democrats Are Reluctantly Making Voter Id Laws A Bargaining Chip

While party leaders have long worried about the discriminatory effects of such laws, many now see other restrictive voting measures pushed by Republicans as a more urgent threat.

WASHINGTON Congressional Democrats, searching for any way forward on legislation to protect voting rights, find themselves softening their once-firm opposition to a form of restriction on the franchise that they had long warned would be Exhibit A for voter suppression: voter identification laws.

Any path to passing the far-reaching Democratic elections legislation that Republicans blocked with a filibuster on Tuesday will almost certainly have to include a compromise on the bills near-blanket ban on state laws that require voters to present photo identification before they can cast a ballot. As such laws were first cropping up decades ago, Democrats fought them tooth and nail, insisting that they would be an impossible barrier to scale for the nations most vulnerable voters, especially older people and people of color.

But in recent years, as the concept of voter identification has become broadly popular, the idea that voters bring some form of ID to the polls has been accepted by Democrats ranging from Senator Joe Manchin III of West Virginia on the center-right to Stacey Abrams of Georgia, a hero of the left.

For me, the larger debate that is probably more critical is reforming the filibuster, he said.

The Fight Over Voting Rights

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tommyhoelland2013 · 7 years ago

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stillrecruitingrp · 7 years ago

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The D.A. has recruited Pat to the character of Lavender Brown with a faceclaim of Alex Steele. Take a look in your teacups, girl. Do you really see yourself ever making up for your mother’s failure?

OOC Details

Name: Pat

Pronouns: she/her

Activity Level: Right now I’m studying for my licensing exam and looking for work. I feel like I can be pretty active between that, family obligations, and other writing groups. At the very least, I can check in a few times a week!

Acknowledgement: I acknowledge that the themes of this game may include triggering elements. I also acknowledge that my character may be harmed or even killed during paras/events or may cause harm to or kill others during paras/events through the violence roulette.

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General IC Details

Name: Lavender Brown

Age: 18; seventh year

Ships: Lavender/chemistry is the most important! I imagine that she’s bicurious though, but it’s not something she’s actually thought about for a while.

Gender/Pronouns: she/her

Face Claim: 1. Alex Steele, 2. Liza Soberano, 3. Kelsey Chow

Desired Changes: Lavender has a squib parent now

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Bio Questions

Biography:

Violet Brown amicably said goodbye to the wizarding world once she was old enough to figure her life out without her parents’ care. Squibs were not only an anomaly but a disgrace in many circles, so it was difficult to leave quietly when her family was already scrutinized. Several years in hiding within the muggle community, she was able to live with her partner and eventually carried a daughter through a surrogate donor.

Lavender raised by two mothers, so already she understood that she was a bit different from a young age and was proud of it. It felt like the world had a problem with her family and her parents instilled the idea of killing them with kindness; despite all of the awful things people say, it was never a good look to retaliate. The only metaphor that resonated with Lavender was she had to carry herself like a princess – and her parents were more than willing to spend a little more money to help her dress like one.

Her favorite movie, however, was the Aristocats, if only because it inspired her mantra: ladies don’t start fights, but they can finish them. While Lavender herself never tried to take part in any physical fighting, she could hold a grudge like no other. She tended to bide her time until she became a bit of a saboteur when the opportunity presented herself.

Violet raised her daughter on stories about the wizarding world, reading her stories from books that seemed to be impossible to find elsewhere. Lavender was never aware there was a second world – because Violet assumed that her daughter wouldn’t be magical as well – but was mostly convinced that these stories were created just for her.

Her Hogwarts letter only confirmed further that most of Violet had told her was true, and it was difficult for Lavender not to be in awe – especially since she felt like an expert in all things magical just based on what she had been told as a child. It was also the first time she had met her grandparents through Violet, who needed help raising a magical daughter. Lavender’s magical abilities set new hope aflame for the Brown family; while she may not be a pureblood, the magical lineage did not end after Violet.

Once sorted, she had never felt more welcome in Gryffindor house. She became fast friends with Parvati Patil, who had grown up to be magical herself, so most of Lavender’s introduction to the prejudices of the wizarding world was because of how Parvati told about her past experiences; Lavender only then realized how strange of a predicament her mother had been in her entire life, and put that as just another fact about herself that made her separate from everyone else.

Lavender was probably average academically when she started her coursework, but often asked her fellow Gryffindors for help regardless of whether or not she understood the material. After all, what better way to make friends? Lavender gets along with everyone, or so she believes; she’s driven by this need to be liked, to be accepted, especially considering that her childhood was marked by the fact that she hasn’t been. It’s difficult to balance both trying to fit in and trying to stand out, especially with the end result being that she often comes off as shallow and selfish.

Her priorities seemed to focus more on gossiping with Parvati and keeping up with the latest from Witch Weekly. Lavender herself comes off as thoughtless and often stuck in her fantasies, it didn’t mean that she was cruel. In the rare instance that she had come across someone who was upset, her bubbly demeanor may be unwelcome but her intentions were always good, insisting that the sun will come out tomorrow, referencing a muggle movie that only those raised around muggle culture would understand.

It was during the fifth year that she realized that she had to pick sides – though she was rather unaware at the time that there were larger issues at hand than whether or not the Boy Who Lived was actually the Boy Who Lied. But Seamus Finnigan didn’t believe him at first, and Lavender only thought of Harry Potter as the talk of the town, and that somehow he was much more of an attention seeker than Lavender was. Her participation in Dumbledore’s Army was more out of curiosity than belief, and it was only until Professor Trelawney had been sacked that she had become more dedicated to the cause.

Her first serious relationship with Ron Weasley was immature at best; for all of the moments Ron didn’t seem as interested in her as she was with him, she felt as if she had to make up for them. In a way she lived in her delusion of grandeur as someone who could have it all – the perfect boyfriend, the thriving social life, and an eventual career as a journalist as she had decided in her fifth year. She still holds a grudge against Hermione Granger for their fallout; after all, Lavender sure as hell wasn’t going to be anyone’s second choice.

School Year So Far

Dumbledore’s death never changed Lavender’s mind that Hogwarts was the safest place to be, until half of her classmates had gone missing. Lavender was occasionally chosen to participate in demonstrations done by the Carrows – but she was always on the receiving end of some curse, where she was reminded that her only saving grace was the fact that her grandparents were considered pure and that it was no fault of hers that she was tainted by a squib.

That didn’t stop them from making an example of her though for those who willingly break their rules, especially because of the one and only time she had stood up for her mother. It wasn’t until Neville Longbottom had come back visibly shaken from his detentions because of her transgressions that she was aware that it was just better to keep her mouth closed and pretend that she didn’t have a wand.

Despite her once thriving social life, Lavender sought no comfort from Neville, Parvati, or Seamus during the few times she was selected to be a practice dummy. Being poised and graceful was the only thing she could hold on to that let her keep some of her dignity. She felt herself becoming more and more detached from her friends, keeping her fear to herself; what was there to say anyway? She walked the halls with her stomach clenched tight for any sign of the Carrows – or students for that matter, who pursued her as a target for extra credit. Lavender was an experiment in which the Carrows only wanted one answer: her blood was tainted somehow because of her squib mother even if her magic had just skipped a generation, and that Lavender was weaker and lesser because of it.

It didn’t help either that Parvati was a true pureblood – a difference now that had never bothered her until now – because Parvati was never punished as harshly as Lavender was for greater transgressions against the Carrows. Lavender knew that Parvati’s blood status (as well as her own) was something they couldn’t choose, but she couldn’t help but feel bitter and jealous as their evenings in the Gryffindor Common Room were now silent. Dumbledore’s Army met, of course, but Lavender preferred not to be present; it was difficult to save someone else when you had trouble saving yourself to begin with.

If Hermione Granger loved the library, then Lavender Brown loved the Divination Tower in equal amount. Most of her free time was spent there and it essentially became her new hiding place as she tried to read tea leaves, tarot cards, and crystal balls for some shred of hope, only to find none. Every prediction always seemed to turn sour, and for the first time she felt frustrated with the art; it was her only way to feel useful and the only way to feel like she still belonged in this world.

Her winter vacation was spent at the school; she didn’t want her parents to find out what had been happening, with her skin marred by curses and her body always pained, and it wouldn’t be hard for the Ministry to follow her home. All she could do now was pray that her parents wouldn’t be found, with her hope in the fact that the muggle world was much harder to navigate than the wizarding one. Besides, she had so much more work to do; after all, ladies don’t start fights, but they can finish them.

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Open Themes: Experimentation - Reconnaissance

Inception

While Lavender still considered herself a member of the DA, it was difficult to become involved since she was a daughter of a squib. Fear held her back, and she thought it foolish of her pureblood friends to purposely endanger themselves to do what was right.

But Lavender had to do something. Her winter break was spent avoiding the Carrows, of course, but reading into a new kind of Divination that she hadn’t yet explored. Perhaps Professor Trelawney had been out of her tower just the right moment, leaving Lavender to peruse her shelves.

The way her wand felt when she cast the spell the first time felt right, at least moreso than it ever had since she held her wand over the last seven years – as if she were destined to do this. She was very easily convinced that she had found her way to help the DA, but little was she aware of the consequences that might come of it.

Specification:

Lavender was working on her ability of astral projection. It was seeing, but during the present, especially considering that Lavender found that she could now walk around the halls unseen for a few minutes. She found herself more exhausted coming back to herself, and often unable to focus.

But she was obsessed with this new ability because it allowed her to escape and tried to practice every chance she got, despite the fact that it drained her significantly. It would affect her schoolwork coming into the second term, but she would consider it worthwhile if she could train herself to project for longer and longer periods of time.

Utilization:

Her friends were busy leading the fight against the Carrows, but she had tried to keep herself off the battlefield because she was daughter of a squib. At least now she had something useful for the DA – she could be a spy. The Carrows were unpredictable, but it wasn’t a secret that they were following orders from someone else – if only the DA could be one step ahead of them. She has yet to tell her friends about this ability, but doing so would be difficult: she’s not very good at it yet and many of her friends had long disbelieved in Divination.

Even if the DA didn’t want her, then who cares? Projecting was the only way Lavender felt like herself again, anyway. It made her special, even if it did have its negative effects: she was tired, depressed, forgetful, careless… but it wasn’t like she had been seen as any different before.

What Lavender would fail to realize, is that the more she projected, the less aware she would be of her surroundings coming back. The longer she thought she was escaping death at the hands of the Carrows, the more she pushed herself into closer. And little was she aware of what would happen if something gone wrong – which it could, she was only eighteen.

How difficult would would it be to keep a projection and a body together, especially after forcing herself to undergo the process so often? She doesn’t understand that there’s control she has to exercise now in her waking hours. And what would she do if somehow her body was found and taken away before she could go back? Eventually she’d have to answer the question of whether this ability would be worth dying for, essentially rendering her as useless as she thought she was from the beginning.

OOC Questions

Writing Sample

Even when she kept quiet, she was punished. Professor Carrow dug her claws deep into Lavender’s arm, pulling her out of her desk. Lavender clung to the desk, her free hand sliding across the flat table stop before reaching for a leg. Her balance was thrown completely and she felt her foot loss its traction across the marble floor as Professor Carrow continued dragging her to the front of the class.

“Useless girl!” The woman shrieked. It wasn’t the worst that Lavender had been called but the Carrows were predictable enough that anytime Alecto opened her mouth to screech, Lavender knew to fight her own instincts to cry out. Any whimper of noise only earned her more infractions as she was forced to demonstrate what the punishment was for dirtied blood. Her hand rubbed her eyes on her sleeve and she glanced back at Parvati.

She shook her head, but not in disdain. The panic in her eyes as she tried to tear her arm away from the Carrow’s grip communicated something else entirely: what have I done to deserve this? There was a swelling in her chest that she could only liken to hope — perhaps Parvati would stand and save her now —

Alecto had grown tired of dragging her across the classroom, letting her tumble to the floor. Lavender gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, feeling the tears dampen her cheeks as they overflowed. She felt like she was drowning; breathing quietly was hardly an option now as she pulled herself up on shaky hands, dragging herself to her feet using Seamus’s desk.

She inhaled as deep as she could, staring blankly back at the woman who had expected her to stay on the ground. After all, everyone else had, haven’t they? Lavender intended to be the last mudblood standing. Her knees almost buckled underneath her when the woman raised her wand, a reminder of the last time that Lavender hoped would be the last time.

Finally, she lifted her head in time for Alecto to wield her wand like a sabre; Lavender was knocked off her feet, tossed to the back of the classroom like a discarded toy. Her body collided with the wooden door and her limbs folded underneath her in painful angles as she slid to the ground. She coughed, the metallic taste layering over her tongue as she gasped. Her fingers pried the buttons of her collar open, unsure if the shivering was out of fear or out of weakness, as she gingerly pressed at the new wounds above her breast. The blood spread easily onto her clothes. Her robes hid most of the bleeding but she still cursed herself for leaving evidence of her suffering.

Lucky for Lavender, the floor had already been stained scarlet.

Exploration

Her relationship with her fellow Gryffindors and other classmates. As a minor character, Lavender doesn’t get much spotlight. I want her to think she’s the “voice of reason” especially since she might be the one trying to talk her classmates out of hurting themselves for supposedly no reason. It would be easy for her to be seen as selfish, especially since everyone else is rising up to defend those who are defenseless. She’s currently on the sidelines and she wants to help, but she wants to stay out of the game – I’d like to see her convinced to be in the thick of the fighting. Lavender also holds grudges against Hermione and Ron; would that affect which leader she follows, especially if they come back? We also don’t see much of the Gryffindors talking with other houses, and we see these interhouse relationships as more of a rivalry; would the crisis with the Carrows actually promote unity amongst the houses?

Her mental and physical health. The Carrows have done a number on her since she’s considered a target, but she never really talks about it with her friends – instead resorting to hide in the Divination Tower. Perhaps she’ll get the opportunity to open up, especially if she has someone who suffers equally if not more than she has. In addition, she’s probably going to get some flack for hiding when she should be fighting; I’m curious to see what kind of arguments happen when she’s thinks she’s given everything and others think she hasn’t given enough.

Her use of Dark Magic. Perhaps this astral projection would be considered Dark Magic, especially since the aftermath of it is so negative and the intention might be considered sinister. Once realizing this, she’d probably continue to do it, regardless; she’s a Gryffindor, after all, and it doesn’t help that she’s the kind to think little of the consequences. But would there be someone to talk her out of it? How would it change people’s perception of her, and would the DA be okay with her doing this? (Does the end justify the means?) Are the effects of projecting going to cause permanent damage?

Her empathy for others. The moments where Lavender has to comfort someone else have been rare, and it wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that she had been focused on herself for a long time. Especially with the pain she’s dealing with now, perhaps she can better understand how others suffer similarly, and offer more help to them in the form of emotional support. That being said, would this empathy be limited to those on her side? There are characters who also struggle on the Dark Side or on no side at all, and it’d be interesting to see if Lavender would allow herself to feel sorry for them too.

#recruitaccept #lavender brown

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