war-charge

the-queen-sees-all  asked:

I was wondering, what if Harry and Hermione had met before Hogwarts?

The first time Harry Potter met Hermione Granger, she was standing with her chin up and her hands on her hips a few paces from the old olive tree in the schoolyard, glaring into the far distance. The wind was trying to twist and buffet her hair into her face, but mostly it was just tangling cheerfully with itself.

Dudley and Piers were busy kicking all the other kids off the play structure, so Harry had retreated out into the grass. He stood a safe distance from the weird girl who was pretending to be a statue and thought wistfully of lunch.

“There’s a fallen bird’s nest,” the girl said in a rapid and certain tumble of syllables. “The boys knocked it out of the tree, but I chased them off and I’m hoping the mama bird comes back. I’m Hermione Granger. We just moved here.”

“Harry,” he said.

“How’d you get that scar?” she said.

“Car accident.”

“That’s a weird scar for a car accident.”

Harry shrugged. “It killed my parents.”

She blinked quickly at him and even at that distance he wished vaguely that she wore glasses, too, because her gaze was something that really felt like it should have some built-in bluntedness. “Mine are dentists. Mum’s taking me to the library after school, want to come?”

-

Before they went into Diagon Alley, Harry asked Hagrid if they could find a payphone. Hermione picked up on the first ring.

“Harry! Where have you been? I’ve been trying and trying to call–”

“Sorry, yeah. Um, so, I’m not coming back to school next year, I…” Harry drifted off, staring at Hagrid’s massive moleskin shoulders. The giant man saw him looking and gave him a tentatively cheerful little wave. “It’s been weird, Herm.” He pressed his forehead into the phone stand, but not too hard. “I think you’re the only thing I’m really going to miss.”

“Harry,” Hermione said and Harry started to frown, because that wasn’t her stern and startled voice. That was the voice that meant she was off down a charging war path of other thought and might not have heard him at all. “I’ve been reading.”

“Of course you’ve been reading,” he said. “I’ve been being forcibly hidden from a swarm of post office owls–”

“You’re in books,” she said in breathless delight, squeaking over the telephone line. “First thing we did, of course, after the professor explained, was get her to escort us to a bookstore– a whole bibliography, Harry, a whole world’s bibliography I haven’t even touched– how am I ever going to–” She took in a little calming breath, and murmured, “Different infinities, it’s okay, Hermione, okay.” A sharp exhale and then she tumbled right back into her rushing rivelet of a sentence. “And I picked up a good dozen, besides the school books, of course, and Harry, you’re in books, in Dark Wizardwork of This Century and A Modern Wizards’ History and October’s End: A Biography–”

“Hermione,” said Harry with slow enunciation. “Are you a wizard, too?”

“A witch, I think,” she said. “But I’m still reading up on the sociology of it all.”

-

Hagrid wouldn’t say Voldemort’s name, but Hermione would. She came over with a stack of books up to her chin, gave the Dursleys her normal pointed little stare that said she’d like to set them a little on fire, and curled up in his cupboard with him.

He supposed she probably could learn how to set them on fire, now, if she really wanted to.

She gave him passages and excerpts with his name in them, with his parents’ names, a home he hadn’t known. There were pictures of a ruined house with the smoke drifting in little curls of ink. There was his mother, smiling and waving in black and white. There was his mother, laid out on the floor, with a sober little caption below it. That picture was still, except for curtains fluttering in the window.

Hermione finally dragged her face far enough up from the pages to see Harry holding his own hand very tightly, and then she closed the book and reached for one about which magical creatures you should pet and which you shouldn’t.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I wanted to know.”

“I’m still sorry.”

-

The Grangers drove Harry, Hermione, Hedwig, and their trunks to King’s Cross Station. Mrs. Granger kissed the top of Hermione’s head while Mr. Granger mussed Harry’s mop of dark hair affectionately, and then they swapped children and repeated the treatment. Hermione pushed her hair back out of her face and marched them all to Platform 9 ¾, the entrance mechanism of which she had read all about.

“Before you go,” Mrs. Granger said, “let’s buy you some sandwiches? I don’t know what sort of food they’ll have past that–”

“There’s a trolley,” Hermione said, but her parents dragged them off to a snack kiosk anyway, Harry happily in tow.

As they were on Hermione’s tight schedule, there were plenty of compartments open, and they took one all to themselves– well, to themselves, Hedwig, and Hermione’s books, which took up two seats. (Harry would wheedle Hagrid into taking him to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping that year, where he would get Hermione a carry-all bag for her small personal library.)

Hermione took a long preparatory breath while Harry unwrapped his sandwich. “Harry? What if I go and sit down under the Hat and I just sit and sit there, and then it says I’m not a witch at all?” Hermione said, the words getting more squashed together and higher-pitched as she went. “I’m not magic, it just got confused, and they send me home? Harry, I don’t want to be a dentist. Other people’s mouths are disgusting–”

“You’re not going to get kicked out,” Harry said, chewing amiably on his sandwich. It was not good, but the Dursleys hadn’t bothered with any breakfast for him and he hadn’t wanted to bother the Grangers about it either. It was a bit dry on the way down, but it settled warmly in his belly.

“But what if I do?”

“I’ll stage a protest,” said Harry. “Refuse to do my homework til they reinstate you.”

“You’re not going to do your homework anyway.”

“See how dedicated I am to you.”

She made a dismissive little noise at him, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Hermione,” he said, and she lifted her bush of hair to look at him. “You’re the most magical person I know. It’s gonna be alright.”

She gave a long slow blink but whatever she might have said was interrupted by an uneven knock at the door. “Um,” said the pudgy boy standing there. “I’ve lost my toad.”

Hermione leapt to her feet. “Where did you see him last?”

Harry followed in the wake of her forward charge, but he brought the rest of his sandwich with him.

-

(Harry did not know this and would not know this until Mrs. Granger mentioned it casually over a Christmas dinner years and years later– but she and Mr. Granger reported the Dursleys for child abuse and neglect, over and over.

The reports got lost– minds scrubbed down, papers vanished– but they kept calling in reports. They considered kidnapping. They couldn’t imagine why the wizarding world might want to keep their chosen one somewhere so toxic, why they might want to keep this underfed child and his messy hair with those people.

“My mother left me a blood protection spell,” said Harry, whose scar had not ached in years. He poked at his mashed potatoes under the focused attention of Mrs. Granger’s stern little forehead wrinkle. “I had to live with family, blood family.”

“Then they should have made them treat you right,” Mrs. Granger said, as though it was that simple.

Mr. Granger gave Harry another helping of peas.)

-

On the steps of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy thrust out his hand to the Boy Who Lived, who surveyed the open palm with amusement. “Thanks,” said Harry. “But I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself.”

The redheaded, freckly, hand-me-down clothes boy Malfoy had been bothering snorted. Harry slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the kid with the rat from the train,” Hermione said. “And the spell that didn’t work.”

“It was a cool rhyme anyway, though,” Harry said. “Hi, I’m Harry, this is Hermione.”

“Yeah, she said, then. I’m Ron– uh, Ron Weasley.”

“Yeah, he said,” Harry said, rolling his eyes Malfoy’s direction. “Come on, you wanna stand with us? Hermione will tell you about the ceiling.”

“It’s enchanted!” said Hermione.

-

When Hermione founded SPHEW, Harry was not surprised. He had spent too many schoolyard days escorting spiders to safe spaces, keeping vigil over fallen bird’s nests, and watching Hermione stand up on her desk chair in heated pitched verbal battles with teachers. She’d driven at least two teachers to tears and taught most of them at least a few new vocabulary words.

-

Over summers and holidays, Harry and Hermione took Ron to the movies, to the seashore, to Hermione’s top three favorite libraries. Hermione’s Aunt Meg taught them how to whittle under a cloud of cigarette smoke that clung to Harry’s hair until he washed it out.

In this life, there were things in the Muggle world that Harry missed, that he wanted to see again. He loved Hogwarts, and he nominally went home to the Dursleys each summer, but he knew he always had a bed at the Grangers’. He knew the weird system they used to organize the books on their shelves. He’d pass Mrs. Granger the marmalade in mornings before she had to ask. He got free dental check-ups all his life, which was good because the Dursleys rarely bothered taking him into the dentist.

The whole Granger family tore apart newspapers every morning, calling article excerpts across the table and pointing each other to their favorite journalists. Before Hermione even first stepped onto Hogwarts grounds she got a subscription to the Daily Prophet. During Harry’s fourth year, Mr. and Mrs. Granger got Arthur Weasley to buy them an owl and then began an unending campaign of furious letters to the editor that never got published.

-

In a crumbling boat shed, Severus Snape died, but first he pressed a shining bundle of memory into Harry’s hands.

The fight was still going– Neville newly broad and certain; Luna whipping out quiet, barbed little curses; Ginny charging like an army in and of herself. Hermione had her arms full of basilisk fangs. Ron was moving people like bishops and knights. But Harry had a long damp walk before him, so he had time to wade through that life not his own.

Severus had been a lot of things– one of them was in love. Harry dragged his feet through forest mulch, seeing a little redheaded girl in sunlight, hands not his own offering her transformed flowers. It had been just them for so long. For Severus, for so long, there had been no one but him and Lily.

Even in Hogwarts, Severus had drifted through the classrooms and common room and library. He had believed in magic, in the cool slide of good knives through dried roots, and in Lily– always, always in Lily– Lily in sunlight, Lily chewing on her thumbnail over Transfiguration homework, Lily flicking soapsuds at him in her kitchen at home over summer, Lily pig-tailed and seven, wide-eyed as he showed her the first magic she’d ever seen, a leaf to a flower, a bit of sunlight to a bit of fire.

He had loved, and it had been a real thing. He had fucked up, and it had been a real thing, that heartbreak, that regret.

When Harry turned the Stone in his hand and saw his mother step into pseudo-life in that forest clearing, he thought I wish I’d known you. He thought about how she was in sepia and gray, here, just like in the pictures in the pages of Hermione’s books.

But he was also thinking about Severus. He was remembering Lily in sunlight, remembering her walking away, remembering her in that same cold photographed sprawl but in color–in grief–in bruised knees and heaving gasps.

Severus had been the first to find Lily’s body and it had felt like someone had cut the sunlight out of him. Harry was living through that grief, but he was also living through the wail of the child crying unacknowledged. His tiny pudgy hands were wrapped around the guardrail of his crib.

Harry was thinking about a girl standing in a field like a statue, hands on hips. He was thinking about Hermione’s raised hand ignored in Potions, or the way Snape had sneered that he didn’t see a difference in her cursed teeth. Love had made him brave, perhaps. It had killed him, but it had not made Severus good.

Harry wondered if his mother would have escorted spiders to safe places, if she would have stood guard over fallen bird’s nests, if she had worried herself to pieces that first time on the Hogwarts Express about the Hat telling her she didn’t really belong.

“I wish I’d known you,” he told the specter of Lily Potter. He held his own hands tight.

For Harry, for so long, there had been no one but him and Hermione. Even in Hogwarts, there were things only she would understand– parking meters, the cobweb ceiling of his cupboard, the silence of marmalade at breakfast. Harry believed in magic and he believed Hermione Granger was the most magical thing he knew.

“They’ll be alright,” he said. “I’ll be alright. I was alright, mum. I wish I’d known you– but I wasn’t alone.” He squeezed his hands tighter– Hermione showing him her favorite spots in her favorite libraries; Ron shyly showing them the Burrow like it was anything less than a magnificent masterpiece of warm rooms and patchwork architecture; Hermione standing in the field like a statue, bushy-haired and seven years old, jaw set. “She wasn’t alone, either,” he said. “And she’ll be alright. Ron will be alright. I have to do this, don’t I?”

“We are so proud of you,” Lily said.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “Sorry,” said Harry, and wondered if Hermione was going to be able to read the little passages and excerpts with his name in them, with those un-moving pictures and the sober captions underneath.

He dropped the Stone.

-

When Harry Potter died for the first time, crumpled in forest mulch, he didn’t go to a squeaky clean King’s Cross Station. There were no crescent moon glasses to twinkle kindly at him.

He stood under an old olive tree and a little girl looked up at him with those eyes that needed shielding, needed blunting, needed a manufacturer’s warning. “A wind’s coming,” she said. “You can just go. It will be easy.”

He stood outside Diagon Alley, a Muggle payphone tucked between his shoulder and ear. “You’re in books,” she said, with a breathlessness he’d barely heard for years. There had been too much weight on his shoulders, on hers. “You’re done,” she said. “You’ve done enough. Go on, tap three bricks up and two to the left.”

He stood in Godric’s Hollow, in the snow, holding her hand, looking at the ruined house. “You should have had this,” she said. She was seven and small, not nineteen and weary like she had been in life. The sky was overcast but there was sunlight glinting in her hair. “You can still have this. You can have everything.”

“You’re not real,” Harry said.

“But you are,” she said. “There’s a wind coming. It will be easy.”

“You’ve never done anything easy in your life,” he said.

She took both his hands– hers were so small against his grown fingers, his broad palms, and how had they done everything with hands that small? Basilisks and werewolves; shouting down teachers from atop desk chairs.

Harry was sitting in his cupboard in the light of its single bulb and he was too big for this space, his shoulders curling forward, his head bowing. She was standing there with sunlight still in her hair and her arms piled high with books. “You don’t belong here,” she said. “It will hurt. You won’t fit, if you go back. Everything can be easy. Everything can be fine. It doesn’t have to hurt, ever again.”

“Hermione,” he said and leaned forward, put his hands on her hands where they were gripping her books. “It’ll be alright.” He smiled and she was staring at him with those eyes, those goddamn eyes. “We never fit, remember?”

“We tried,” she said and Harry squeezed her small hands gently.

“Send me back,” he said. “I want to go home.”

-

After the battle, as Hogwarts rang with frantic healing, crushing grief, and raging celebration, the three of them retreated to the library. Hermione hauled them down narrow aisles until she found her favorite tucked-away nook and they all collapsed on sagging sofas that seemed to not have been touched at all by the war.

“Well,” said Hermione. “What now?”

Ron let his head flop back against the seat, hair tumbling all over his pale forehead. “I’m going to nap,” he said. “For a month.”

“That’s not physiologically possible,” said Hermione. “Or if it is, then it’d be a coma.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Ron said, then: “no, wait, a hyperbole.” Hermione beamed at him. He blushed a little and elbowed her gently.

“After this, you’ll be in books, you know,” Harry told her.

“Not– I mean–” Hermione rubbed at her nose furiously. Ron laughed enough to wake up and sit up, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

While Ron came up with outlandish titles for Hermione’s eventual many biographies, Harry pulled his feet up onto the sofa. He watched the candles float quietly between the shelves.

i just happened to read the other day about how WWI was the time of great disillusionment - everyone thought it would be The War To End All Wars, the Last Big War, after which there would be an end to wars forever. young boys eagerly joined the war for what they thought would be their last opportunity to take part in a battle, and fight for the glory of their country. imagine the huge disillusionment that happened when the reality of the war set in. death, pain, injury, ugly and horrible, not knowing who’s right and who’s wrong. great acts of evil on both sides of the war, and the death of millions as if nothing mattered. the entire WWI generation experienced an ugly realisation about war and about humanity. it led to a generation of cynicism and pessimism. imagine their horror when, less than 50 years later, another war began again. 

and that’s xactly what wonder woman was meant to go through over the course of the movie. she thought that she was going to kill ares and that would be the end of war forever. she charged in, so eager to seize what she thought would be the last chance for a battle. so what better time period to set this in than right then, for wonder woman to experience this great disillusionment together with the rest of humanity. this choice was a genius move. *applauds dc*

witches protecting non-binary people

Witches creating a sigil for their non-binary friends to use to bring about positive neutral pronouns

Witches taking non-binary people to the forest and splashing their faces with lake water and smudging dirt on their cheeks like war paint to charge them with all the femininity and masculinity of the elements

Witches charging non-binary friend’s clothes with all sorts of wonderful crystals to give confidence in wearing whatever they want

Witches turning non-binary people’s names into sigils to bring good vibes to everyone who uses their correct names

Witches joking around and asking their non-binary friends to help them out with spells to help channel masculine, feminine and nonbinary energy

Witches placing flowers in hair, beards, pockets, almost everywhere they can to enchant non-binary people as guardians of the forest

Witches cursing anyone who disrespects their non-binary siblings

Witches falling in love with non-binary people and knowing they are a Demi-Deity with a heart the size of Jupiter

Witches protecting non-binary people

imagine jungkook as your knight.

Originally posted by berry852

  • in golden armour.
  • so jungkook didn’t particularly want to serve his country, but he believes in the monarchy (i.e you) and wants to amount to something, grow up to be a great, honourable man.
  • pursuing a military career is ideal given his low birth, his only real chance at achieving this goals.
  • and you already know he’s gonna rise through those ranks like no other man before him and get noticed very quickly.
  • and his superiors want to make him an example, and inspiration to all the young men in the land who hope to improve their station in life.
  • so they ask him what he wants and he says he wants to achieve the greatest honour possible, and he hopes to be a knight some day.
  • boom, he’s the youngest man to serve in the royal guard because what’s more honourable than protecting the monarchy?
  • but jungkook is unhappy in his honorary position, he feels it was handed to him.
  • he takes his duties seriously, but it’s far too cushy a job for someone with his ambition and energy and he gets restless a lot.
  • and then someone tries to abduct the heir to the throne. that’s you.
  • and long story short they wish they hadn’t tried because jungkook saves you single-handedly in spectacular fashion.
  • after this he has a renewed sense of duty and responsibility, because while he may not see a lot of action his presence is still important, and he feels a little better about things.
  • you also get to knight him for saving your life, and it’s a great day for the both of you.
  • it’s around this time jungkook is appointed as your personal guard.
  • which is kinda awkward because, while he’s the only one in court of a similar age to you, but you’ve barely spoken and he’s so serious always.
  • also he’s a farm boy, kinda rough around the edges, and doesn’t have the best manners exactly he’s kinda clumsy when it comes to etiquette, which is just very lovable tbh.
  • also you can tell he’s grumpy about having to follow you around all day, so you make an effort to be more active for his sake, hunting, riding, etc.
  • and when you can’t even kill a rabbit he realises you’ve been doing all these things for his sake and he gets really blushy and shy and it’s adorable.
  • and he warms up to you a lot more after that.
  • but you still make him sit and drink tea with you just to annoy and embarrass him a little, so he doesn’t forget who’s boss lol
  • you didn’t get to have much of a childhood, and jungkook’s still a boy at heart, so you play around a lot.
  • sneaking around the castle at night and playing hide and seek in the castle gardens.
  • imagine jungkook getting in trouble for letting the heir to the throne fall out of a tree.
  • or when you hurt your ankle and he just picks you right up and carries you inside to see the court doctor.
  • or helping you practice dancing for an upcoming ball and realising not only is he a brilliant dancer but he really, really loves it.
  • and you two sneak out to the ballrooms in the middle of the night to dance, or just dance in your chambers, or in the gardens even.
  • but in official capacity he’s still very serious and dedicated.
  • you love acting cute or pulling silly faces when no one else is looking to try and crack his facade.
  • and he will tickle you for it afterwards.
  • but honestly he adores you and would give his life to protect you.
  • and you love him and you know if there was ever a war he would charge in head first, which provides you extra incentive to keep the peace.
  • honestly, being royalty isn’t easy but you need to make it look that way.
  • and at the end of the day jungkook is there to love and support you for you, and you can finally be just yourself for a little while.
Horse Body Language for Writers

Hello! Because I see a lot of bunk weird-ass body language used in fantasy novels, I thought I’d drop some knowledge on actual horse body language, as opposed to that you’ll see in corny movies. You cannot trust movies, okay? They add horse sound effects in every scene with horses when in reality horses are very quiet. Movies lie.

ANYWAY.

Here’s some basic facial expressions:

Interested (and sometimes fearful). Horses with their heads way up in the air and ears forward can be stressed and looking for a friend. But they can also just be listening or interested in something in front of them.


Bored/Tired(only one hind foot taking the weight is common; horses tend to lean on only one foot when they’re sleepy/bored/comfortable). Their heads are lowered, their eyes and ears may be droopy, and they’ll be sighing a lot. What’s most hilarious is when their mouth hangs open as such:

If you’re like me, you then play with that lip and go LIP LIP LIP LIP because you are about six years old.


Aggressive/fearful
Notice that the ears are PINNED back, not just facing backward. A horse moves their ears based on what they are listening to. It’s possible that their ears are just facing backward to listen to something behind them. But if the horse looks tense, their ears are pinned to their neck, and they look prepared to bite, they are angry or afraid.


Listening (when ears move forward and backward)
One key thing to look for in a horse that’s listening to you is that they are a) moving their ears back and forth b) lowering their head and c) smacking their lips. This is horse talk for “I’m paying attention to you.”


Being weird

Sometimes your horse is just weird and does this lip thing. We had one horse who would do it when you gave him wormer. He did not like the taste of wormer. So he did this. It’s hilarious every single time, no matter how long you’ve had horses.


Yawning
As terrifying as horse yawns look, they are not being aggressive. They are just sleepy babies with nasty teeth.


Some things horses WILL do:

  • Come when called (they must be trained to do so with many treats; it does not come as naturally to horses as it does dogs)
  • Tricks, such as bowing or rearing
  • Throw you off and not look back (if they’re a dick)
  • Throw you off and stop after a bit and wait for you (if they’re not a dick)
  • Bite people/buck people off they may not like.
  • Run under low branches to knock a rider off. Horses! They’re dicks!
  • Enjoy running up hills more than they enjoy running down hills (don’t ask me, horses are weird)
  • Change their personalities depending on who is handling them. This is not a drastic change, usually, but horses may become gentler or more stubborn depending on whether or not they sense their handler is confident
  • Go lame (lame=limping) at the most inopportune moments
  • Roll over with a rider still on them (aka bucking for the lazy, passive-aggressive horse)
  • Kick you if you stand behind it. I mean, most horses don’t do this, but it only takes one.
  • Paw at water. Think of horses as giant toddlers who like splashing puddles.
  • Eat things/poop while they walk and run (don’t anyone tell you that humans are the only multi-taskers)
  • Poop on you and fart in your face. A pastime horses enjoy.
  • Pick things up in their mouths and toss them around.
  • Lie down (some horses do lie down to rest, but they only do so when someone else in the herd is standing up. Think of it as guard duty. Horses can sleep standing up, and they most likely will not lie down if they’re in the open country and if they are the only horse)
  • Lie down like this:
NO WHY ARE YOU LYING DOWN LIKE THAT I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD JESUS.

Some things horses WILL NOT do:

  • Fight wolves to protect you (sorry; every man for himself)
  • Jump over their own paddock fence to come when called (I mean, maybe? IDK, teaching a horse to jump out of their pen sounds like an awful idea)
  • Jump random objects in their way when they’ve never jumped anything before, especially ravines (take it from me— horses do not leap over ditches if they’ve never done it before. I found that one out the hard way)
  • Put their lives at explicit risk for you (they’re not dogs. Again.)
  • Snort constantly like they do in movies, unless they’re sick
  • Talk to you via snorting/shaking their head. Horses do not understand English. (They can be trained to do this stuff to signals, like a dog. But they don’t understand what you’re saying.)
  • Charge into battle without regard to what they’re charging into (war horses are a thing, but I see a lot of CGI movies in which horses just fucking RAM into the other side, and I’m pretty sure this doesn’t happen. Horses can be taught to tolerate gunshots and canon fire and all kinds of stuff, but they generally enjoy not being stabbed and running straight into other horses)
  • Become exhausted from a relentless desert marathon, lay down to die, and then get back up when the rider gets in touch with his indigenous ancestors (thanks, Hidalgo!)
  • Start liking you just because you gave it an apple, even though you’re a wild Mustang and don’t like people. (thanks, Flicka!)
  • Pull a plow Day 1 with zero training because you decided it was a good idea to buy a Thoroughbred with the money your papa gave you a for a plow horse (thanks, War Horse!)
  • Run as an Arabian in a race meant for Thoroughbreds with an 8-year-old jockey or whatever (thanks, Black Stallion!)
  • Do magic (to my knowledge!)

Some things that are very rare for a horse to do:

  • Charge at you. A horse who did this would be considered very dangerous. Humans being able to handle a horse is entirely dependent upon the horse’s assumption that you can kick its ass. Once it realizes it can kill you, you have a predator animal on your hands, and dealing with a 2,000 lb predator with hooves and teeth is NOT a horse you want to have around.
  • Rear, just cuz. Horses rear when they are playing or fighting, and when a horse rears with a rider on, it usually means they’re being a dick, not just cuz they feel great and the sunset is behind you and you’re a cowboy. A horse can be taught to rear on command, as they do in movies. But they don’t just do it unless they’re mad at you.
  • Enjoy its head being hugged. Horses love hugs (or at least are neutral to them), but generally resist head hugging. I mean, what if a strange person came up to you and just clutched your head to their chest? Like, BOUNDARIES, okay?
  • Act like a dog in any shape or form.
  • HORSES ARE NOT DOGS. OH MY GOD. THEY ARE NOT.

Here’s the thing about the new canon.

Essentially they want us to watch the Original Trilogy, completely invested in the fact that our heroes will triumph, and then they want us to watch The Force Awakens and just be totally OK with the fact that everything we were just presented with over the course of three films is out the window.

They want Star Wars fans to spend several hours watching Han and Leia’s love story, watching them fight for each other, overcome personal obstacles to be together, make incredible sacrifices for each other–they want us to spend ESB and ROTJ rooting for them, want us to watch Han hold her close as they both smile at the end of the trilogy, want us to be happy and hopeful and thrilled that their true love has made it through–and then they want us to watch TFA and see that their marriage failed, and they want us to accept it.

They want us to get invested in our heroes–in Han and Luke and Leia–and desperately hope that they all make it through. They want us to be invested in their personal allegiances to one another to the point that we KNOW that Han will come back at the battle of Yavin for Luke and Leia, we KNOW that he’ll go out into freezing conditions to rescue Luke, we KNOW that he’ll run into Echo Base to rescue Leia on Hoth, we KNOW that Luke will ignore his Jedi Masters and abandon his training to go rescue Leia and Han on Bespin, we KNOW that Leia will risk her safety to go back for Luke at Cloud City, we KNOW that Luke and Leia will leave the rebellion and put themselves at risk to rescue Han, WE KNOW WE KNOW WE KNOW. The new canon wants us to sit there KNOWING ALL THESE THINGS, knowing that they are the most important damn things in the galaxy to one another, knowing that they’re family and that they love each other. They want us to know it and be invested in it and root for it–root for the strength of that bond and that loyalty and root for them all to make it through together–for all of them to triumph together. And they do!

And then TFA wants us to COMPLETELY CHANGE OUR MINDS and accept that all of that is destroyed. That bond is broken. Luke has abandoned his friends for some reason. Han has left Leia. Leia is all alone. And not only has that crucial bond just been cast aside, but their triumphs have all been undone. Empire defeated?? Welcome to Empire 2.0!!! Death Stars destroyed??? Welcome to Death Star 3.0!!!! Vader redeemed???? Welcome to Vader 2.0, and even worse, he’s your own damn son/nephew AND he kills Han!!!!!! It just takes their victory and deconstructs every single piece of it, and the only possible way that that maybe could have been tolerable would have been if AT LEAST they were still together, still true to the loyalty we knew, unstoppable and united no matter what new dangers they face, and they’re NOT. The Original Trio, the most beloved and iconic characters of all time, are just completely leveled to NOTHING. Fractured and broken up and reduced to these miserable un-versions of themselves. And the new canon wants you, as a Star Wars fan to accept this, because “Don’t worry!! We have these three shiny NEW heroes for you!!!! They’ll get a happy ending for sure!!!!” But??? What??? I don’t give a shit about their ending, what about the ending we were already supposed to have had???? The one you made me hope for for three damn movies??? The one I was lead to believe was true???? What about that ending??????

No, they decided that they were going to go back thirty years after the fact and change it.

But wait, you say, how did this happen??? How could these people at Lucasfilm who were claiming to “protect” Star Wars destroy Luke and Leia and Han like that?? How could they write a Han Solo who abandons Leia to do all the fighting all alone when there’s a fascist regime routinely trying to kill her and their son is a part of it and her brother has vanished without a trace??? How could they write a Luke who’s evidently turned his back on the galaxy–on the FAMILY–that needs him??? How could they have DESTROYED LEIA’S WHOLE LIFE????? ALL of their lives???? And for seemingly no reason!!!! They could have easily written a movie to introduce the new characters and create conflict without dismantling every single thing about our beloved trio and their dynamic. But they didn’t. They slaughtered them.

And then you listen to these people speak. And they start saying things like Leia clearly could never have been an attentive mother because she was too preoccupied with politics and her career. Han could never have been happy settling down and committing to something–not even his family–so OBVIOUSLY he left and he’s smuggling again. Han and Leia were too incompatible and could never have worked. Luke is off in EXILE because AREN’T ALL JEDI MASTERS SUPPOSED TO BE IN EXILE???????????

And you’re just. You’re floored. You’re blown away. It’s like those people didn’t even fucking WATCH Star Wars. Did they completely miss the fact that Leia’s character arc is about learning to care about things that aren’t the rebellion, and learning to rely on people–not just herself???? Did they not see how much she’s already lost–LITERALLY HER ENTIRE WORLD–and how much she had to suffer before she finally got something that was hers again? Did they not see the hell she had to go through to get it???? Did they really think she would throw that away after all that–did they think that LEIA of all people couldn’t have balanced a career and a family????

Were they just twiddling their thumbs when HAN SOLO’S ENTIRE FREAKING STORY IS ABOUT REALIZING THAT HE’S NOT A SMUGGLER, NOT SELFISH, NOT THAT MAN ANYMORE–MAYBE NEVER REALLY WAS THAT MAN. LEARNING TO COMMIT–TO STAY WITH LEIA AND LUKE AND THE REBELS AND SACRIFICE HIMSELF IF NEED BE????? HIS ENTIRE GROWTH AS A CHARACTER WAS AWAY FROM SELFISHNESS AND FLIGHTINESS. HE BECAME A STEADFAST, BRAVE, DEPENDABLE MAN COMMITTED TO HIS FRIENDS AND HIS LOVE AND THE CAUSE. HOW DID THEY WATCH THOSE FILMS AND SAY “WELL HAN COULD NEVER SETTLE DOWN.”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Did they not notice that Luke’s DEFINING characteristic throughout the original trilogy is his loyalty to his loved ones??? His utter refusal to let harm come to them–to give up on them?? His refusal to abandon them???? And then they want us to believe that he… abandoned them?????

So essentially the thing about the new canon is that people who don’t understand Star Wars are suddenly in charge of Star Wars, and they go back and ignore the characterization of three entire films and present us with material that is entirely contradictory of the original trilogy, and then they don’t understand why people have reacted negatively. 

And then of course you get fans screaming about how it’s REALISTIC this way.

When the fuck did you get the idea that Star Wars is supposed to be realistic??????? Star Wars is NOT about realism. It’s a Space Fairytale. An epic saga. It’s not supposed to be Game of Thrones grimdark jam in the tragedy. It was never like that for forty years. It was never presented that way. George Lucas was ADAMANT in making this point. And that’s why it resonated with so many people–that’s why it was such a success. Because it was uplifting. It was inspiring. It touched that part of our hearts where those fairytales live–where it’s possible for our heroes to go up against the forces of evil and WIN and have a happy ending. That’s why they gave Luke and Leia and Han the happy fucking ending!!!!

And the thing with the new canon is that they don’t care. They don’t care about “protecting Star Wars.” They don’t care about what Star Wars stands for. They don’t care about what George Lucas created. They care about money. They don’t want you to be invested in Han and Luke and Leia anymore. They want you to care about Finn and Rey and Poe, and apparently no one at Lucasfilm understood that they didn’t have to destroy the old characters to get people to like the new ones.

And for the record, just because the people delivering this truly appalling “new canon” horrorshow AU are Disney and Lucasfilm does NOT mean that I have to accept it all as true. They don’t understand Star Wars, they don’t care about it, they’re not its original creator, and I don’t have to accept a single thing they say.

That’s the thing about the new canon.

War

Originally posted by ladanvm


Prompt 12: Eric Coulter

“You want a fight. I’ll bring a war.” 

Notes:

Y/N- your name

H/C- Hair color

E/C- eye color

Tagging: @imnotafraid4 @wynterrobin @buried-in-books

Honestly all of you guys who reblog and like my posts make my day! I think I’ve fallen inlove with creating Eric in a different mindset then just being a straight up asshole. I feel like he would be the kind of person to be a hardass to everyone and sometimes to the reader, but in private he would be the type to drop the asshole persona. 


She was tired and moody, this morning mother nature had decided to pay her a visit and a damn initiate decided to challenge her once again. It seemed that the initiates this year were brave and cocky. For some unforeseen reason they thought she was an easier target. Yet, time and time again she had proved them wrong, but they still came back for more. She leaned against the wall tiredly, when she saw that the hallway was empty. She stood up straighter when she heard heavy footsteps, coming from behind her.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing. We have a meeting in five and you have me walking around the whole fucking compound looking for you,” She heard Eric’s snide voice from behind her. “Hurry your ass up!”

She rolled her eyes, stifling a yawn wishing that she had decided to deny the leadership role like Four had done. “I didn’t ask you to.” She fell into step beside him, accidentally brushing his shoulder. She felt the urge to yawn again, but she didn’t want to hear Eric’s nagging voice.

“Y/N!” She stopped turning to look at the black haired male. “Where are you off- Eric..” She turned back to Eric only to see a pissed off look on his face. Being the asshole that he was Eric stood behind her, glaring down at her black haired friend. “I was just wondering if you can reschedule your tattoo appointment to tomorrow evening.”

“Shit, I totally forgot about my appointment. But yeah, tomorrow at seven?” She asked while he nodded. “Okay it’s a date, I really have to go.” She rushed out feeling Eric’s angry gaze on the back of her head. She didn’t notice her friend’s surprised face, because she turned back to Eric grasping his meaty arm pulling him towards the meeting room.


Y/N yawned again while Eric gazed at her. She was one of the few people that he tolerated, and he didn’t want to admit to himself that it bothered him when she said it’s a date. Sure, she was attractive, even more so since she always stood up and never took his shit seriously. But he had never realized how much he was attracted to her.

“How is the training with the initiates going,” Eric brought his attention back to Max while he eyed both her and himself.

“They are courageous, yet cocky. They seem to think that they are better than Four, even as we knock them down time and time again. It’s taking sometime to break them, but it’s not impossible and we are only a week behind schedule,” She spoke clenching her fists tightly.

“I have no doubt that you and Four will break them. How are the strategist coming into play,” Max wrote something in his tablet.

Eric watched her E/C eyes light up, while he listened to her absentmindedly. He watched the way her hands moved excitedly as she described her strategies. He wanted to reach forward and brush away the few strands of her H/C hair that fell from her loose bun.

“Eric?” He blinked a few times, before turning to look at Max. “What’s your input?”

He knew he fucked up, he hadn’t heard a word she said, because he was too busy paying attention to her and not what she was saying. “She’s good with strategy. I don’t anything wrong with it.”

Her eyes shot over to him in surprise, before nodding stiffly in thanks. “Alright. Everyone’s dismissed.”

Eric waited for everyone to clear out before he pulled her aside. “Tell me your strategy again. I wasn’t paying attention.”

She pulled her arm away from him. “So basically you were just spouting bullshit about me being good with strategy. Figures. You know what Eric, I’m not really into explaining it again so you can ask me again tomorrow. Goodnight.” She turned away from him, before flipping him off over her shoulder. He watched her go, noticing the sway of her hip. Eric clenched his fists when he felt the urge to run his hands over her ass.


“I swear Four, if they keep testing me I’m going to put them in the infirmary,” Eric listened in on Y/N and Four’s conversation. “Cara asked me to chill out this year with the initiates, you know how she is.”

“Actually I don’t because I’m not the one that used to put initiates in the infirmary,” Four gave her a small grin, before turning his attention back to the initiates. “Maybe that’s what this bunch needs, even when you keep kicking their asses they don’t seem like they’ll respect you, regardless if your a leader.”

Eric moved closer to the pair, brushing against Y/N. He smirked when he saw her shiver slightly. “What do you think?” She looked up at him, it was one of the things he learned to like about her. She always asked him, no matter if she was pissed off at him or he was pissed off at her.

“It would be interesting. Pick the one who always gives you shit,” He shrugged. “Initiates get your asses around the mat.” He gestured for her to take control.

She grinned up at him, before looking at each of the initiates. She stopped at a blond haired kid, who was smirking at her. “Blake.. Since you won the last three against your competitors you will choose who you want to fight next.” Blake grinned at her, before his eyes skimmed lazily over her form.

“You. I wanna fight you.” Eric’s eyes widened slightly at the balls on this kid. Y/N at first glance looked weak, but Eric and Four learned the hard way that she was anything but weak. She had the ability to see every weakness and use it against her opponent. What she lacked in strength she made up for it with her agility and stamina.

She smiled sweetly at the kid, “Alright.” Eric coughed out a laugh. The kid had fallen right into her plan. She took off her boots, going to stand in the middle observing her opponent. “Coulter! Mind telling the rules.”

“First one to get knocked out loses or we can go with first blood,” Eric leaned against the mat, eyeing her. “Up to you..”

“I love first blood, but I think I’ll go with the first option. Four you’re on standby” She smiled down at him, before her body relaxed. “At your call Coulter.”

He felt a surge of pride flow through him, “Fight!”

Eric watched as she lazily eyed the kid. Blake rushed at her, at which she turned slamming her foot into his face. Eric grinned seeing the blood gushing out of his nose. “C’mon, you wanted a fight. You got me all excited.” She taunted him, only to grin when she saw him charging at her. She ducked under him, propelling herself up onto his back jabbing her hand into his neck. “You give?”

“No,” Blake choked out, trying to get her off of his back. She rolled her eyes, using her body weight bringing them down, before she tossed him across the mat. “I want a fight!”

Blake got up wiping the blood from his face. Y/N smirked, “You want a fight. I’ll bring a war.” She charged at him, kicking his legs out from underneath him, before she grasped both of his arms. “You challenge me and my authority daily. I’ve been trying to mellow out but you fuckers keep pushing me towards the edge.” Blake whimpered below her, when she pulled his arms tighter. “So, the next one to disobey me and challenge me again will end up with two dislocated shoulders.” Y/N grasped Blake right arm dislocating his shoulder. She cut off Blake’s scream with a single punch to his face. Eric grinned at her when she turned glaring down at the rest of the initiates, “Do you weaklings understand that?”    

Eric watched in amusement when they all nodded dumbly at her. “Great, you’re all dismissed.” They moved around her, eyeing her wearily. “Eric mind handing me my boots?” He grasped her boots scooting while she scooted towards the edge. She grinned at Four while he rested his hand on her shoulder. “You taking him to the infirmary?” The stiff nodded, hauling the kid up.

“You did good Y/N,” Eric set his hand on her thigh. “It’s hot watching you kick people’s asses.” He ran his hand down to her leg. “Do you want to get a drink with me?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, “What are you playing at?”

Eric sighed leaning against the mat, he wasn’t good at this. Usually he would ask and the girls would agree without hesitation. “You’ve been on my mind and I decided to act on it. So is it a yes or no?”

She shrugged pulling on her boots. “Sure, but I have my tattoo appointment in fifteen unless you want to come with me then we can get a drink?”

“Sure.”


“Thanks Derek,” Eric watched her smile at the dark haired male. The guy eyed Eric back, before smiling down at Y/N. “I’ll talk to you later.” She glanced up at Eric, before turning to leave the small shop. “So, uhm-”

Eric put his arm around her shoulder leading her towards his compartment. “I figured we could have some privacy.” He opened the door for her while she stepped inside. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Mess right,” She joked looking around the clean room. “If this your idea of a mess, I’d hate to see when you would call something filthy.” She glanced at the few shirts that were tossed into the chair. She looked back at him, frowning slightly when she noticed how uptight he was. He moved away from the door, heading towards his small fridge, pulling out a few beers. He opened her’s before handing it to her.

Eric leaned against the counter, “I’m not used to the whole talking ordeal.” He downed the beer trying to ease the nerves that he felt.

She shrugged understanding. “You have any cards,” she asked moving to sit on the counter next to him. He nodded grabbing the pack, tossing them at her. “Alright, let’s make this interesting. I win, I get whatever I want from you and if you win then you can choose whatever you want from me. Deal?”

He grinned back, pulling up a stool. Regardless of whatever game they played he knew that she would most likely win, no matter if he used to be from Erudite. She was extremely good at strategies.


“I win,” Eric grinned at her setting his cards down. “So I get anything I want from you?”

She shuffled the cards again, “Those were the terms. Anything you want.”

He grasped the cards from her, moving to stand in between her legs. Eric put his hand on her cheek, pulling her closer so their lips almost met. “I want a massage.”

Y/N laughed, bumping her head against his. “Deal.”

He moved back while she jumped down from the counter gesturing for him to lead the way. He led her into his neat bedroom, before pulling off his shirt. “Focus on my shoulders,” Eric mumbled before laying down. He heard her laugh again, before he felt the bed dip and weight settle on his lower back.

She dug her fingers into his muscles and he had to bite his sheets to keep himself from groaning out in pleasure. Her hands were surprisingly soft with small callouses here and there, but he loved how cool they were against his skin. He turned holding her so that she was still straddling him. She tensed slightly before raising an eyebrow at him.

Y/N raised herself up slightly, reaching towards his shoulders again. He closed his eyes when her fingers massaged his tense muscles. A shiver ran through his body when she ran her hands over his pecs. He found his hands gripping her waist tightly before he flipped them so she was laying beneath him. “This is not a massage Eric,” She grinned up at him, while he grinned back.  

Eric leaned down, capturing her plump lips into a searing kiss. She whimpered slightly as he bit her lip, causing her to arch into him, while he ran his hands up her legs. He pulled back smirking down at her, “Stay with me tonight.”

Y/N bit her lip, he leaned down to kiss her again. She hoped that she wouldn’t have a nightmare tonight, before she was distracted by Eric’s skillful lips.


Y/N woke up, trying to remember where the hell she was. She moved to sit up, but a beefy pale arm held her down. She froze slightly when she trailed her eyes up, seeing Eric’s face sleeping soundly beside her. She moved soundlessly trying her hardest not to wake him up, once she was out of his bed, she grabbed all of her clothes throwing them all on before dashing out of his compartment.

Y/N was late. She sprinted to her compartment showering quickly before throwing on her workout clothes. She wrapped her hair into a bun, before sprinting to the training rooms only to see Four already stretching, maybe she wasn’t that late. She jogged over to Four, sitting beside him beginning her own stretches.

“You’re late.” Four grimaced while he held a hand down to her. He stared at her neck, rolling his eyes grinning slightly. “Now I know why.”

Her fingers probed her neck slightly, remembering Eric had left a mark from last night. Deep down she was embarrassed, but she shrugged grinning cockly at Four. “So we can skip the morning run?”

“Nope, let’s go,” Four pushed her slightly before she huffed dropping the cocky grin.

She started jogging falling into step beside Four, with her legs protesting at the extra exercise. “Four I’m going to kill you,” She huffed pushing past her jelly filled legs. She stopped leaning against the column, “Give me a second.”

Four smirked while she flipped him off. “C’mon, we can skip today. It seems you’ve already gotten way more exercise than usual.”


Y/N was sharpening the knives when the door banged open and a pissed off Eric stormed it. She went back to sharpening the knives, before the angry man leaned on the table beside her, she could feel the anger vibrating off of him in waves.

“Spit it out, get it over with,” She murmured not satisfied with the sharpness of the tool. He grabbed the knife from her hands flinging it at the wood, glaring down at her. “Impressive shot, but a little to the left and-”

“You left. Why,” Eric growled out through clenched teeth, staring (more like glaring) down at her.

“I had to get my morning workout in. Then I had to prepare for the initiates. I didn’t have the luxury to sleep in,” Y/N shrugged, grabbing another knife to sharpen.

“You’re a leader… you can choose. You’re a coward Y/N, you left because you were scared.” Eric hissed moving away from her, clenching his fists.

She rolled her eyes. “Totally, I’m a coward for doing my job. I’m not scared, if I was then I wouldn’t have went to your compartment.” She grasped his arm, pulling him towards her. “If I was a coward, I would’ve covered up your marks you dumbass.”

Eric grasped her chin, looking at her neck. He brushed his fingers against the marks, grinning slightly. He grabbed the knife she held throwing it back to the wood. “You’re right, I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Asshole. So, what are we? Fuck friends,” Y/N smirked pulling her face away from his hands.

“If that’s what you want,” Eric rested his hands on her hips, before he trailed his fingers down her legs, wrapping her legs around him so she was pressed against him.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Y/N shrugged wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “So is where we also see other peo-”

He growled slightly, squeezing her thighs and burying his face into her neck. “I don’t share.”

“Neither do I,” She laughed when he brushed his lips against her sweet spot.


*Four months later*

“Stay,” Eric wrapped his arms around her, he had been asking her for months now yet she always refused. “Y/N c’mon let’s just sleep.”

“Eric, c’mon let go.” She weakly fought against him.

“Why don’t you want to stay? Fuck Y/N,” Eric let her go, sitting up watching her pull her clothes on. She sighed sitting back on the bed, while he moved closer kissing her shoulder.  “What are you so nervous about? Are you embarrassed?” He moved back, while everything started to fall into place.

“Why the hell would I be embarrassed? Who gives a fuck what other people think?” She hissed laying back down on the bed.

“Then what the fuck is up with you.” Eric scowled at the ceiling.

She put her arm over her eyes, biting her lip. “I have nightmares Eric. I didn’t want you to see my weakness. That’s why I’ve been avoiding staying over.”

Eric moved so that he was laying on his side looking at her. He grasped her waist pulling her into him. He held her tightly, breathing in her scent. The possessive side of him, grinned at the fact that she smelled of him. “You don’t have to be ashamed of things that aren’t in your control.” She sighed softly, burrowing closer to him.

One thing he loved more than anything was moments like these, where it was just him and her. In his room he was able to be somewhat vulnerable around her, but they still kept their professionalism. Eric wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but she was one of his fears. He often feared that she would find someone better, nicer and more open than he was. To others it may have been a pansy weakness but to him it was something he never wanted to come true. She had managed to worm her way into his heart and he wasn’t going to lose her. Eric kissed her hair, holding her tightly.  

“What are we Eric,” He heard her mumble out while she intertwined her legs with his. “This feels like so much more than fuck friends.”

“I’m all yours if you’re all mine,” Eric smirked running his fingers along her exposed flesh. She looked up at him, grinning slightly before moving so that she was straddling him.

enrique262  asked:

In the Pacific, why weren't Japanese submarines as effective a their American or German counterparts?

While the Japanese started WWII with some very capable submarines and crew, I believe it is their submarine warfare doctrine that ultimately limited their effectiveness. Here are some factors to consider:

1. Differences in submarine operation doctrine.

The US Navy used their submarines mainly against merchant shipping, while the Japanese primarily focused on landing hits on enemy warships.

The US Navy’s submarine force was a major factor in the destruction of Japan’s logistic support of its forces. Of all Japanese merchant ship losses, more than 54% in GRT were caused by Allied submarines. The number is 4,779,902 tons confirmed, about 9 times the tonnage of warships confirmed sunk by submarines according to William P. Gruner.

The Japanese, however, used their submarines mainly in an offensive role against warships. There were notable successes, for instance, the sinkings of USS Wasp (CV-7), USS Juneau (CL-52), and USS Indianapolis (CA-35). It should be noted that warships are harder to sink than merchant ships - warships are faster, more maneuverable, able to withstand more punishment and better defended as well. The difference in submarine doctrine is understandable, though, as targeting enemy merchant shipping takes a bit of time to show its effects, and the Japanese had very little time, as every day America’s military would grow bigger and stronger.

2. Japanese submarines were built in lesser numbers compared to their American counterparts.

By the start of the war, the Japanese had 64 submarines in operation. During the war another 126 large submarines were commissioned. The US Navy, in comparison, reached a total of 288 submarines at maximum during WWII. The fact that by late-war the Japanese were already in no position to contest the skies and seas did not help. 

3. The Japanese’s lack of ASW ships and advanced weapons.

The US Navy cranked out an impressive number of destroyer escorts and escort carriers, which proved to be capable submarine hunters. The Allies, in order to combat the German submarine threat in the west, also put a lot of effort in developing more effective anti-submarine weapons, such as the Hedgehog mortar and the FIDO homing torpedo. In contrast, the Japanese had less advanced submarine detection gear, and their primary anti-submarine weapon for most of the war was the depth charge which was not as effective.

Sources:

William P. Gruner. US Pacific Submarines in WWII.
Mark E. Stille. The Imperial Japanese Navy in the Pacific War.

anonymous asked:

What's your opinion on The Fates, Hekate, and Nyx?

The Fates for me, are incredibly cool, and let me take this moment to wonder how the fuck misogyny and patriarchy was even possible. (I’ve put it under a cut because otherwise it would be irrelevant). Anyway, the entire concept of them? Hell yeah. I dislike the concept of fate, but love this portrayal of it.

Hekate: Helpful and her domain’s awesome. What’s not to like?

Nyx: I don’t know much about her other than she was pretty much feared by everyone and that she was incredibly powerful. Hell yes?

Keep reading

This is Revan:

This is Kylo Ren:

This is Bastila Shan:

And this is our angel, Rey:

Now I’m not the only person seeing the similarities here. I’ve seen this theory a few times, that Rey and Kylo are based off of Bastila and Revan. I just want to reiterate why Reylo would could easily be a Bastila/Revan retelling.

Revan and Bastila both started out as Jedi. Revan however turned to the dark side (sound like anyone), but lost his memory and eventually came back over to the light (and stayed there even after recovering his memory). Bastila tried to resist her feelings for Revan for a long time, however the two eventually fell in love. 

What’s more is Bastila and Revan shared a force bond, so their thoughts and emotions were linked!

The “I feel it too” quote along with the instant connection Rey and Kylo share make me think this is a highly plausible thing for them as well. 

Also pointing out that Bastila used a double-bladed lightsaber, and I’ve always felt like Rey needed one since she was used to fighting with her staff (please give her a double-bladed lightsaber). 

Bastila was captured by the Sith and turned to the dark side for a short period of time, but their love for each other brought her back to the light

I know I’m way over-simplifying Bastila and Revan’s relationship, but I just wanted to point out the main similarities. I’m sure there’s even more I’m overlooking 

Now if the Star Wars gods in charge haven’t seen this as the perfect opportunity to play out a rather epic love story, I will be pissed. Rey can bring Kylo back to the light. He can be Ben Solo again. They’ll help each other. Maybe Rey will be tempted by the dark side and Kylo will bring her back from that. I don’t care, just give me something like this. I need Kylo and Rey together. There are just too many parallels in this not to at least consider.

Sorry for the disorganized word-vomit, but I just didn’t think screaming through the computer “BASTILA + REVAN = REY + KYLO. DOES NO OEN SEE THIS?! HOLY SHIT. LOOK AT THIS. *gestures frantically to them all*” could have gotten my point across.

5

Battle of Gaine’s Mill, Virginia, 27 June 1862, Fr. d’Orleans

This engagement saw the largest Confederate attack in the war. However, the charges were not coordinated well, resulting in heavy casualties. With the arrival of “Stonewall” Jackson, the Confederates finally executed a full assault.

Ranks: Leaders

“Ready?”

“At your order, sir.”


If a Clan could be compared in its mechanisms to the body of a living being, then the leader would without a doubt be the brain. Directing every movement the Clan takes, strategizing battles and patrols and even daily hunting locations, a leader’s thoughts, decisions and ideas have more weight than the rest of the Clan put together. 

As long as they’re competent, of course.

Keep reading

Remember Revenge of the Sith? Pretend you don’t for a second. Instead:

  • The Senate, long corrupt and having interests on both sides of the war, votes to de-fund the clone troopers.
  • It’s the only way they can get around the Supreme Chancellor. Besides, they’re tired of the war and just want it to end, even if it means losing huge chunks of the galaxy to secession.
  • Realistically though this means a LOT of stranded clones in hostile territory, a lot of early-generation ageing clone veterans cut off from all support, not to mention the cessation of new clone creation.
  • Tension builds between the (clone) bulk of the Republic’s military and the Republic itself.
  • Anakin and Obi-Wan both sympathize with the troops, but Obi-Wan is more inclined to let the war end and go along with the Senate
  • Anakin refuses to abandon his soldiers, and he refuses to let the war end in defeat: they’ve come too far, done too many terrible things in the name of unity, for it all to come to nothing.
  • Meanwhile there’s a no-confidence vote for Palpatine and he’s placed under house arrest pending charges that he abused his power. “All to defend the Republic!” he and Anakin (and most of the military) insist.
  • Anakin leads a coup, arresting several key members of the Senate and liberating Palpatine. 
  • Palpatine confesses his dark side affinity to Anakin, but phrases it as necessary balance. “The Jedi cannot do what must be done if the Galaxy is to be preserved.” Anakin ultimately agrees. The Supreme Chancellor is back in charge, the war is back on: Order must be brought to the Galaxy- it can’t all be for nothing.
  • The Jedi counter-attack, seeking to overturn the coup. The clone troopers defend themselves against their former generals, hearts heavy and bitter at the perceived betrayal. No need for any programmed behaviors or Order 66. 
  • The attack is repelled- barely -thanks in no small part to Anakin’s personal ‘heroics.’ He begs his former comrades to stop, but they’re light-blinded idiots for the most part and treat him like a monster. It’s a treatment he gets used to, a treatment that gradually leads him to become what they perceive him as.
  • Anakin leads the clones- now loyal to him above even the Emperor, since he’s been their general for years and unlike all the others, he never turned his back on them. 
  • (Say what you will about how Vader liked to burn through Imperial Naval officers, he never once mistreats a Stormtrooper in the movies and even leads the boarding action against the Tantive IV. Dude leads from the front! He’s an excellent infantry officer. The troopers should love him.)
  • Padme begs him to turn his back on the new Empire/junta, but Anakin’s course is set- he’s done too many terrible things to turn his back now. He’s personally killed many of his former friends. It has to mean something. It has to be the will of the Force- he has to believe that. They separate. Nobody force chokes anybody, what the fuck.
  • Obi-Wan and Anakin have their climactic fight. It can even be on Mustafar, why not, that was a neat sequence. 
  • Padme Amidala leads many members of the Senate on their own daring escape. She and the Organas form the seeds of the Rebellion. Presumably she dies a few years later, but by god Leia has to be at least 2 before that happens or she’d have no memory of her mother “her real mother.” That line means something. Not a throwaway about Lady “no-lines-because-George-Lucas-is-rather-sexist” Organa.
  • Luke and Leia are born on Alderaan, but (hand-wavey bullshit about force-sensitive twins being like a beacon in the living force or some shit) they must be split up or risk discovery. The farther apart, the better. Obi-Wan knows just the place, a place that works for his exile, too. He takes the boy, because the little shit’s blond mop reminds him painfully of his best friend. I will do better this time, he thinks.