#also i cannot stop speaking wonders of rebelle. they should pay me to be their marketing team. im a rebelle pro 5 believer.

[tonbane]

Had to post this panel separately and highest quality (CLICK ON IT!) cause I love my three kids. And Zelda is still barefoot a week into the story, if you ever see shoes it’s i’ve given up

[legobiwan]

Maul, Obi-wan, and Raydonia

I was doing research for an entirely different post and I just...couldn’t leave this scene alone. There’s just too much going on here for me *not* to dip my oar.

So Maul goes to Raydonia and terrorizes the populace in order to send a “message” to Obi-wan at the end of TCW Season 4:

First of all, the panel where Maul says, “face me,” is interesting as Maul is directed away from Obi-wan as Obi-wan looks at Maul’s back, perhaps in facing Maul’s back, he is looking at the past, or, more specifically perhaps not being able to look at his past he cannot face Maul’s holoimage dead-on.

Secondly, this is such an obvious setup. (I know, I know. “Spring the trap.”) But Maul’s hilarious line in Twin Suns really shows us how much he not only knows Obi-wan, but the Jedi at this point (and in Rebels, he contrives this plan because it has worked twice already, on Raydonia and later, Mandalore):

Although this is not the point of this post, you have to laugh. Maul and Obi-wan, to some degree, have been dancing the same tango for over 20 years and the only time there had been a misstep, so to speak, was when Obi-wan left Ahsoka in charge of the second attempt at a Mandalore occupation instead of going himself. But otherwise, geez, no wonder Maul ended up in Obi-wan’s arms at the end of it all, just like a “dip” maneuver at the end of a dance as mentioned above. (They *know* each other’s moves, flit between lead and follow, and if you take this metaphor to its conclusion, then you realize Maul went to Tatooine, sought Obi-wan not because he wanted Luke, but because he wanted closure, knowing what closure would mean in that circumstance.)

But I’m getting off-topic. Maul goads Obi-wan by threatening to burn Raydonia to the ground and Obi-wan, of course, being of “noble heart,” immediately proclaims that he has to go. Alone, of course.

Mace, being the only voice of wisdom in this room, offers a sound strategy:

Obi-wan immediately rejects this perfectly viable option.

This justification is bullshit. Obi-wan is known for being a master tactician and yet he’s refusing Mace’s offer of backup? First of all, between the two of them alone, I’m certain they could have come up with a decent plan. Secondly, Obi-wan had to know that Maul wasn’t going to keep his word. Raydonia was going to burn, regardless of whether Obi-wan came alone or not. 

And, in fact, here is Exhibit A of Raydonia burning:

Even if he isn’t fully aware of this, I posit that Obi-wan rejects Mace’s offer not because he wants to save Raydonia on the premise of a very false promise (if he were truly concerned about Raydonia, he would have taken the task force), but because, as the title of this episode suggests - he wants revenge. 

And I doubt Obi-wan even admits this to himself, using his “noble-heart” to justify going to Raydonia alone to face a massive threat to both the Republic and Jedi in the middle of a war headed by the Sith.

By every logical, tactical measurement, Obi-wan should have taken backup. And he outright refuses it because of a personal vendetta. I have more to say about this in another post, but his actions here seem to be part of this cycle of “fall” and “absolution” that Obi-wan goes through in TCW, each “fall” going lower, each act of contrition more extreme. (And it plays into a theory I have that if the war had continued, if events had been just a little different - Obi-wan would have fallen and Dooku would have eventually gotten his most prized pupil.) It also says a lot that in the mirrored situation during the “Siege of Mandalore” arc, Ahsoka is only able to capture Maul because she brought the backup. Or, more precisely put, because Obi-wan authorized the (illegal) backup of he 501st. 

Mace, however, isn’t swayed by Obi-wan’s pretty terrible argument. (And for pretty damn good reason.)

But here is where it gets truly bizarre.

What the hell, Yoda? I was trying to figure out the thought process that would lead to Yoda authorizing this. Clearly, it’s not stemming from any military advantage or even thought towards the people of Raydonia. They’re already burnt to the ground, both in Maul’s mind and the Council’s mind (despite Obi-wan’s thin rationalizations). 

So then why? If I start with the really wild speculation, I suppose I could say that Yoda had someone form of...Force premonition that Obi-wan going alone to Raydonia would lead to an intervention by Ventress (who Yoda did sense was kicking and ambivalent about her role in the war) which would lead to Ahsoka’s trial and eventual acquittal which would lead to Maul being captured on Mandalore which would lead to the Duel on Malachor which would lead to Luke finding Grogu - 

Yeah, you know what? 

NO way that’s true. Not even Palpatine could see that far into the future so I can BS on that idea.

So why send Kenobi alone?

I think this harkens to what we see later during the “Wrong Jedi” arc.

 If Ahsoka’s trial was her great test, then Maul’s reappearance was Obi-wan’s. Both Mace and Yoda have to know that Obi-wan was teetering on the Dark Side when he beat Maul all those years ago (in fact, the TPM novelization basically states Obi-wan harnesses some Dark Side to beat Maul in his rage.) Mace wants to bring backup, for very practical reasons but also probably keep tabs on an Obi-wan who was at severe risk of becoming unbalanced. 

Yoda, on the other hand, sends Obi-wan alone to face his past, to face his darkness and overcome it (in the middle of a war with the Sith where the balance of power could have shifted significantly if Maul and Dooku and Sidious were able to coexist in the same room without the threat of first-degree murder). 

And here’s the thing. Both Obi-wan and Ahsoka FAIL this test. Ahsoka walks away from the Jedi, Obi-wan gets the snot pounded out of him, taps into his rage (this is not a man in control of himself),

...and then lets a war criminal go free in exchange for her help, all of which set up the disaster that Mandalore becomes in later seasons. In fact, Obi-wan doesn’t pass this supposed test until over 20 years later, on Tatooine. And...is it worth everything that occurred between this episode and “Twin Suns”? Could Yoda have foreseen all of this? Highly unlikely. It’s nice poetry,  but at what cost?

Which leads to another interesting observation - if Yoda feels this is Obi-wan’s test, then both he and Mace feel Obi-wan is more than capable of flirting with the Dark Side. (Yes, all Jedi are, of course, but this seems rather pointed for a man who is considered the pinnacle of Jedi-ness). Again, I have another long post gestating about this topic, but I doubt Mace and Yoda didn’t notice some signs of Obi-wan’s slow fall and attempts at absolution (it’s almost like the habits of an addict - fall, swear off the sauce, and than fall again, even lower) throughout TCW, but between the pressures of the war and trust in Obi-wan, they didn’t see it as a huge threat.

So after Obi-wan leaves for his Revenge Tour, Mace explains, rather diplomatically, that he thinks Yoda’s idea is hot garbage and that his (Maul’s) -

Yes, and Obi-wan at least does learn from this, as stated above...eventually.

Oh, Yoda. This is where I feel the Coucil lost their way. Again, Dooku’s famous quote about Yoda and the Council from the Clone Wars novelization:

"The Jedi Order's problem is Yoda. No being can wield that kind of power for centuries without becoming complacent at best or corrupt at worst. He has no idea that it's overtaken him; he no longer sees all the little cumulative evils that the Republic tolerates and fosters, from slavery to endless wars, and he never asks, 'Why are we not acting to stop this?' Live alongside corruption for too long, and you no longer notice the stench."

It could be argued that Yoda is placing this “test” of Obi-wan above the people of Raydonia, hell, the entire Republic, in priority. Raydonia is collateral damage, and if Obi-wan fails his test, so are many planets in the Republic (which is *exactly* what played out). I suppose, in the very end - again, 20 years later on Tatooine - this was resolved and Luke Skywalker was saved to eventually help redeem his father and destroy Palpatine but...that only really makes sense in hindsight and overlooks the bad decisions the Council and specifically Yoda, are making in real-time. 

And Mace is not convinced here. Too many things could go wrong. Maul could escape. Obi-wan could be killed. Obi-wan could possibly turn, or at least “darken,” so to speak. 

“Trust in the Force,” Mace might say, “but all others pay in credits.”

[reynesofcastamere]

Broken Shards[β]

(A/N: This fic is for @awryen, who I also asked for prompts/requests and was given the option of a slightly more dark/cynical Ahsoka working with Maul, or him helping her deal with her nightmares. Once again, having no self-control-and a lot of free time-, I chose both. Also, smut was not requested but it wound up in here anyway! XD. Mention of previous Ahsoka/Barriss. Warnings for disturbing imagery, violence, death, depression/intrusive thoughts, blood and possible dub-con.(Potentially triggering sections will be marked with ****) Absolutely Not Safe For Work and unbeta’d as usual.) 

****

How could you do it?

The Temple burns, and the Jedi with it. But they do not fall. They stand, mouths gaping open in silent screams, empty eye sockets weeping blood in half a hundred colours. Her Master cuts them to pieces, again and again. He is not alone. Barriss stands beside him, eyes filled with grim conviction, the clone troopers flanking this tableau of horror and carnage like mindless automatons. Ahsoka can only watch, helpless and immobilized as the people she loves are burnt, broken and mutilated by their own comrades. Even the younglings...Her stomach churns.

There is only one body, one face that remains undefiled in all of this. Senator Amidala smiles, serene and welcoming. But she is just as dead as all the rest. Did you kill her too? The woman you loved, the one you trusted with your life: Did you even care, in the end? Anakin Skywalker stops to look back at her, eyes corrupted, turned to sickly, acidic yellow rimmed in old blood. ‘You weren’t here, Ahsoka.’ He pronounces with utter certainty, that her leaving was the one thing that sent him toppling into the Dark. ‘But it’s not too late.’ Black segments crawl, beetle-like, over him and Barriss, transforming them into her waking nightmares. Vader and the Seventh Sister. ‘Join us. And seize your destiny.’

NO!

****

“Ahsoka.” Her lids snap open, breathing stuttered and rapid, heartbeat going into overdrive as she sees another pair of awful, venomous eyes looming over her in the semi-darkness. She lashes out blindly, determined not to go down without a fight. The hands that catch her wrists are bare and callused. Strong. She needs to fight harder, to get out, get away- “Naak, cabur. Gar racin kyr’adiise munit dar. [Peace, guardian. Your pale corpses (are) long gone].” Her eyes well up with unbidden moisture, suddenly overwhelmed. Ahsoka is relieved at hearing a ruthless killer speak Mando’a to her in a hushed, hypnotic tone. Because it is better than the hiss and wheeze of the machines powering the...abomination that her Master has become. She can feel Maul’s hands move to cup her face, the pads of his thumbs brushing the tears that managed to escape. He seems more curious than anything else, head tilted slightly as he examines her. “Have you never seen anyone cry before?” Her voice is weak, despite the attempt at humour. “Not this close. I lost the ability some time ago.” He replies, calm and completely untroubled. As if it were normal, and she is somehow the strange one for not being able to control her body’s response to the terrors plaguing her sleep.  Perhaps she is. Her Master has willingly chained himself to a monster that devours galaxies to satiate his hunger for absolute power. Most of her friends and comrades-in-arms are either dead or missing, a fellow Padawan and former lover is hunting down Force-sensitive children for slaughter or brainwashing; Her current lover-enemy-ally is a former Sith assassin at the head of a criminal empire. And Ahsoka....Ahsoka lies, steals, and kills while she bargains with slavers and worse for anything that will help keep the Rebel Alliance alive and undetected just one day longer. What is the point?  Even control of the Force eludes her because she cannot find peace. The closest she comes to it these days is the brief oblivion of climax or a few hours of dreamless slumber. The rest is bitterness and pain wrapped in a dull grey haze.Which is why she is here. Maul at least makes her feel something. The sharp bite of anger, the rush of drive and ambition, the raw red strength of clinging to life and refusing to let go. She pulls away then, turning over and presenting herself to him. “Are you certain?” “I’m not in the mood to beg. Now-aaaaaAAAaaah-” Before she can issue an order, he has grasped her hips and is entering her roughly. She is not quite ready. Every shift and thrust hurts, but this is what she wants. To be used hard enough that she aches for days afterwards, just to hold on to some sliver of what keeps him burning so fiercely. Maul presses her down, forcing her to turn her head to avoid being smothered by the pillow, the peaks of her breasts rubbing against the sheets as she is made to lift her backside higher. The change in angle is enough to provoke another long, mangled stream of vowels. “Touch yourself.” He hisses, and oh, it feels as if he could pierce right through her and keep going.Every sharp plunge impacts her cervix, the sound of their bodies meeting only becoming more and more crude as her arousal builds. Ahsoka pants and reaches for herself in a half-dazed state as he growls and fucks her harder. The base of him slides against her fingertips a few times before she finds her nub, circling it with her middle finger as her other digits spread her folds open. “Now. You will tell me what is wrong.” Her stomach sinks even as he makes her moan. “W-what are you talking about?” “Your presence in the Force is practically non-existant, despite the ghosts that cling to your shoulders.” Maul snarls. “You are lost, listless, submissive...Before, you would have made me struggle for the privilege of having you like this.” She is trapped, something he emphasizes by leaning over, lips brushing against her jaw with each word. “You were glorious, Ahsoka Tano. And now you are a ruin, waiting to crumble.” He still hasn’t let up his pace, as if to discipline her for these ‘defects’. Her lips tighten as she buries her face in the pillow. It is none of his damned business why she is different, now. Besides, why should he care? Ahsoka expects him to keep going, and is mildly shocked when he stops, withdrawing from her core with a speed that borders on violent as he turns her over and yanks her upright. “Look at me.” A demand which she blatantly ignores until he manipulates the Dark Side to hold her chin in place, his hands gripping tightly to her upper arms.

There is anger in his sunburst gaze and in the power that roils and snaps around him, but beneath that...Oh. He is afraid...For her? The revelation hits with the force of a sudden blow to the chest, and only grows more solid as their foreheads come to rest together, his stare softening by slow degrees. “I-” Ahsoka swallows a choked sob. “You were right. Anakin- he-he was Sidious’s apprentice all along. I didn’t want to believe it, but Vader-” She can’t bring herself to say the words. “I failed him. If I hadn’t left-” “No.” Maul’s snarl cuts into her self-recrimination. “Your Master failed. And continues to fail every day that he allows Sidious to live.” He releases his grip to trace the outline of her lekku, then up her throat and along her jaw. “They think themselves untouchable, but they forget...The dark is generous, and it is patient, and soon, very soon, their stars will burn out.” His words are silk and poison on the air, and she wants- “Join me.”

“What, no offer to rule the galaxy this time?” She retorts dryly, trying to cover up the fact that she is wavering, kept on the edge of a steep cliff by the barest sliver of rock.

“You have rejected power, revenge, and almost every other shade of temptation placed before you. I can only offer myself.” There is some scrap of cautious hope in his gaze as he answers, the words devastatingly simple. Yet for someone like him, secrets and vulnerabilities so carefully safeguarded, it means everything. If she accepts, if she falls, her life will change irreversibly. There is no guarantee that she will be able to hold onto herself once she takes that final step. Maul has never been a moderating influence. And Rex...She’s not certain what he or anyone else she still calls ‘friend’ would think of this.  Perhaps...it is not impossible to find a middle ground. “Show me?” Ahsoka asks, breathless and uncertain, but willing to extend some degree of trust. “Breathe.” His hands sweep downwards to rest lightly at her sides, ribcage expanding and contracting under his fingertips. “Focus on your passions, your fury...And let them out.” Her eyes close as she matches his pattern of breathing, positioning herself on his lap and bracing her hands on his chest. She takes him inside her again. Gradually, gently as the Dark Side seeps in. It is cold at first, almost numbingly so. But after the first adjustment...Ahsoka can feel Maul much more intensely; The difference of being on the same wavelength as opposed to different signals. There is even a dizzying moment where she sees herself through him, sees her eyes open, burning gold with a ring of blue flickering around the pupil like a candle-flame. The surge of wonder-possession-desire-protection from her lover threatens to sweep her away for a moment. “Is...Is this what you feel all the time?” When he’s with her, at least. Considering his default state is prickly at best and downright murderous at worst.

“The intensity is the same, yes.” His head lowers to let his mouth pay homage to her breasts as they move together. This feels...right. A slow build-up of pleasure as emotions, thoughts, and sensations twist and weave together. There are words lurking within his head that have her dragging her nails over his torso. He really...Wants that, with her? Strangely, the idea isn’t repulsive. At the very least, it means that he desires an equal partner, not a subordinate. "Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde. [We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors.]" Their voices merge in ancient oath, parting only when something else speaks through them.

“There is no Light-” “-without the Dark.” “Through passion, I gain focus.” “Through knowledge, I gain power.”

“Through serenity, I gain strength.”

“Through victory, I gain harmony.”

“There is only the Force.”

There are no words to describe what is happening to them right now. No defined point where she ends and he begins. Their awareness is scattered across galaxies, caught in the endless cycles of birth, death, and renewal before everything is once again narrowed to a single point and they cannot handle it... It feels as though years have passed when Ahsoka opens her eyes again.The Light practically hums without her even needing to reach for it, but the Dark is there too, vibrating in harmony. She is not...free from her burdens or her ghosts, but she has another purpose, now. And perhaps more than that. “I can feel your ambition, my Lady.” Maul’s voice is a teasing rumble next to one of her montrails. “Whatever are you planning?” “To lure Vader into a trap. He can either fall in line...Or get out of the way.” If she cannot persuade her former Master to topple Sidious, she will have to kill him. There is no other option. Of course, she will need to plan carefully to have any hope of success. But if the risk pays off...She kisses him one last time, brief but passionately, his grin full of visceral pleasure as they part. “I may have some...suggestions to that effect.” “Mm, I’m not surprised. But first, my Lord, I think we’re due another round of celebrating.” (A/N: Whoo! Okay, so going in order. Barriss Offee is the Seventh Sister in this fic and her and Ahsoka were previously involved because I’m a sucker for tragedy. The ‘dark is patient’ line is taken and bastardized from Matthew Stover. Yes, Ahsoka and Maul are married by Mandalorian custom in this fic and they’re speaking the version of the Gray Jedi code that I like best because it flows well. *insert ‘That’s not how the Force works!’ joke here* Also Ahsoka’s eye colour is back to normal after they ‘finish’;). Hopefully this works as a suitable compromise between the tropes that I wanted to incorporate. Cheers!)

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Earth Girl (Rey x Reader) Two

Request: "Reader traveling the galaxy with Rey? If that makes sense."

"Loved the Earth Girl imagine!!! Would you be able to do a part two please? Maybe when they get back to the resistance base and they debrief the reader and ask her questions about earth and what not? and a lot of fluff with Rey of course!!"

Words: 1, 732

A/N: This was really fun to make! I seriously can keep going and going, it's like I'm writing a escape from my boring life. Hope you guys like this!!! Part one. Let's just pretend the Star wars movies and comics doesn't exist in this world.

“Movies?” Rey asked with a big smile on her face, she was so excited to learn about Earth, how was like to be there, what you eat, everything. “What is that?” was the usual question that came after you mentioned something new for her.

“Like… like a recording and there’s people that act as others” you explained. By that time you had learned that the space and earth wasn’t that different, both had things that were the same but they called in another way, so you tried your best to describe the things to Rey in a way she could understand what they were. “They usually tell stories”

“About what?” she said her eyes focused on your face as she impatiently waited for the answer.

“The past, the present, the future, every sort of stories. The relationship of a royal lady and a boy that fell in love in a big ship that sank in the ocean, for example” you giggled “Everything is possible in a movie.”

“Sounds amazing” Rey told you. “You said there are movies about people from other parts of the galaxy. How do they look like?”

You chuckled, it was still unbelievable for you that you were not longer in earth and instead you were sitting at the edge of a spaceship looking down at the strange scenario of this rebel base where humans, droids and a variety of species of “aliens” passed by. And the truth was the movies didn’t really made justice to this, you didn’t believe a single person back at home would even imagine a thing like that.

“Not like this” you started “Most of them are slim green beings with big black eyes” you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of those tiny cartoon characters. “None of them looks like you, which is such a shame if you ask me” you told her giving her a wink and eliciting a laugh from the brunette.

“Hey, Rey!” someone yelled. It was the young charming pilot you met the day Rey rescued you, Poe if you remembered good. ���Leia is back. Time has come, earth girl” he said referring to you. The General Organa had finally arrived to the base, she would decided if you stay or not with them or if she send you back to your past and boring life.

A few minutes after you were walking through the endless corridors of the Resistance base. The pilot was walking in front of you leading the way, Rey was by your side supporting you, she seemed to be a very protective person and you were glad to have her with you, rescuing you from being sold as a slave was a thing you never pay her. On the other side was the little sphere droid with orange patterns that beeped in a very high pitch something you couldn’t understand, not even with the universal translator on your neck.

“We talked about this, BB-8” you heard Poe said “Earth girl has to go back to her planet”

“Stop calling her that, Poe” said Rey in an almost angry way. “She has a name”

“Yeah, I know” he said annoying Rey. “We’re almost there” he informed you as he nodded towards a big room with a lot of people inside a woman talking to them in a firm tone.

General Leia Organa, Rey talked you about her and as far as you knew she used to be a princess from a planet not longer existed. She also told you about the history of her family and oh boy it was really confusing. Her father was a big bad man that tried to rule the galaxy, she had a twin brother and he was something called a Jedi. You were still processing all the information.

And there she was standing in front of a big crowd not doubting a single word. You waited ‘till her meeting was over and the she came directly to you and shook your hand.

“Y/N, it’s a pleasure to finally met you” she said “Rey and Finn had tell me what happened in that planet, I still cannot believe it” you were a bit confused not exactly knowing how to respond or how to even talk to this kind looking woman.

“Neither do I” you answered forcing a smile.

“General, the interrogation room is ready” informed a soldier behind her.

“Won’t be necessary, she really is from Earth” said Leia

“But, General, we don’t know yet. She could be a spy” continued the man.

“She’s not” said firmly the General, and thanked that she was on your side. “Give some clothes to this girl, she need to be unnoticed. Gods know what could happen if someone else finds out where is she from” she ordered with a soft smile on her face before turning around. The doubt invaded you.

“Wait” you called out and she faced you. “What’s going to happen now? why is it so important to be from earth? I don’t understand why people get so surprised about it.” since the very start you were wondering that, why people wanted so desperate to buy a human from your overpopulated planet?

Leia sighed before she raised her voice again.

“The Milky Way is a forbidden galaxy, your solar system is the only one with an inhabited planet, often taken for a myth.” She explained “My dear child, please don’t tell anybody where you’re from, for your own good. I’ll try to find a way to take you back to your home but for now my hands are tied” she said. How kind was this woman.

“Thanks” you told her, this was too much information. That was why the scientist never had found anything in the planets nearby, and you were the only one that knew that, you were sure they would take you as a crazy back in home if you’d tell them that.

“So what should we do with her for now?” asked Poe that had been quietly listening.

“I believe Rey can answer you that, Poe” she smiled “I like that plan, take her there, Rey” General Organa said before she was gone. You looked at Rey, what plan? she hadn’t even speak. It was like she had read her mind or something, you wasn’t sure but at this point it wouldn't be surprising if they told you that was a possible thing to do.

“So?” you asked Rey as she smiled back at you.

“Takodana” she said.

“What’s that?” now it was you who was making questions about how this world so far away from yours worked.

“A planet, you’re gonna like it, Y/N” she said and gestured over the exit door as she offered you her hand, without blinking you took her hand and she guided you outside to met the ship she had rescued you and now you knew it was called the Millenium Falcon and used to be Han Solo’s a rebel hero from the past war, who was also Leia’s husband and they had a son.... Well, this family was really chaotic, and you used to think that one movie with a girl that didn’t know who of the three men was her father was confusing.

Everything here was much more interesting that in your own planet, better than the same old routine everyday, the empty life you had and even though you were unfamiliar with mostly everything around you it felt more like living, as if all those years back on earth you hadn’t being alive until now, running holding hands with this beautiful and kind woman.

And then you were traveling through space with her, looking the hypnotic view of the lightspeed. You felt Rey’s gaze focused on you and seeing from the corner of your eyes you caught her smiling softly at you, as if she was watching a kid seeing snow from the first time, and you felt like that if you were honest.

“Takuduna” you said looking at her.

“Takodana” Rey corrected you giggling.

“Why this planet?” you told her still exploring the ship with your eyes, there were too many buttons and levers.

“I like it” she said “It has a lot of green and blue, a nice weather and we have a friend that lives there” she said, her words denoting true happiness by this planet.

“You born in this place?” you asked.

“No, I don’t know where I was born” she said with a sad tone “I used to live in Jakku” you were so curious about her, you wanted to know everything about this woman.

“And how is Jakku?”

“It’s a desert, sand everywhere, a powerful sun that really burn your skin and makes you sweat a lot. You wouldn’t like it, Y/N” she said

“That’s why you left?” you interrogated.

“No, I… I wasn’t gonna leave but I found BB-8” she started, her words having trouble to leave her lips. You knew this part of the story, Finn told you about how he met Rey and what happened next.

“Why you stayed in that planet then, Rey?” you tried to helped a bit.

“I was waiting for my family but” she paused “They just didn’t come” you cursed yourself in your mind as you saw how sad Rey looked now.

“Sorry” you said as you got closer to Rey.

“It’s okay” she said. Suddenly the ship got out of lightspeed and revealed a planet that looked very similar to yours, except that you couldn’t actually tell if there were continentes but it reminded you of earth.

“For a moment I thought you brought me back home” you told Rey and her eyes filled with desire to learn once again.

“Earth looks like this?” she asked as she glanced at the planet.

“Kind of” you said and Rey sat at the pilot seat to fly the ship to the green planet.

“I would like to see it” she murmured “Y/N, your home sounds so great” she said.

“You wouldn’t like it, Rey” you said repeating her words. “Believe me once you put a feet there you’ll hate it. This is much better” you said smiling at her. “Traveling with you, I really like it” you saw her smile growing bigger as she reached to taker your hand.

“And you haven’t seen anything, yet”

[thoughts-n-paper]

Eve woke up every day with a sense of gratitude.

She thanked her fate for waking up buried in the soft linen sheets, for the luxury spread on her table every meal and for the smile she was blessed to see on her daughter's face every day. She did believe that it was her karma that her circumstances took her from the dirty and worn down roads to the desirous mansion she breathed in. It was that along with her daughter's persuasive powers, but it wasn't all for nothing like they say that suffering does, after all, builds character. And she saw the proof of that every day in the image of her step-daughter, who stood just a meek, timid and impressionable little girl. Ella and Anna, the step-daughter and her blood, even though Ella was the older one, Anna stood over her, both in stature and disposition. It was difficult for her to see Ella as a girl born in privilege and still so distant from the qualities of the rich she had been envious of in another life.

Anna, on the other hand, had taken to the elite lifestyle like fish to water. Eve was so proud of her child. Anna was always the talk of every ball they had been to ever since her debut. Every room that she walked into, she knew how to assert her dominance over the crowd. Eve's heart grew an inch every time she would hear other girls talk behind Anna's back, which meant that she had made her place, that the others were envious and that she and her daughter were on the right track. And then will follow the pitter-patter of the timid Ella, stopping to greet every low life on the street and letting the dirty children rub their hands all over the expensive silk that Eve brought for her. She tried to change Ella at first, polish her into a lady of a respectable household, but she would not listen, "My mother says to be kind to the young and respectful to the older." "My mother said not to let anyone return empty-handed from your door." "My mother this and my mother that..." Eve was tired of listening to what an angel her mother had been and had given up now. Ella was a lost cause, but she was certain Anna would be the one to outshine every other woman that walked their land.

Eve had always had faith in Anna even when they had no riches to call their own, and even though she had no education, she carried herself like a lady of a palace. Royalty was in her every demeanour but just not in her blood.

She went to Anna's room to wake her up, and on her way from the window of the corridor, she could see Ella in night clothes, feeding the local beggars, even though Eve had asked her not to a million times. She shouted from the window, "Get back inside, Ella!" and rushed downstairs to give her a piece of her mind to Ella's face.

"You wretched girl, how many times do I have to tell to stop feeding strays. Do you know what this food costs your father? Still, you insist on wasting it on lowlifes. Next time let them pay for it, or a better idea, you finish it yourself. At least I will have one less mouth to feed." She dragged Ella, by her hand, inside the house with whispers of Ella following behind, "I was just trying to help."

Eve distinctly remembers the days when she was counted among the lowlifes too, and she despised herself for it. She knew first hand what a burden these people were, how shameless they were to ask the rich for everything, nobody ever showed her mercy for it, and she didn't want them to either. Now that she is rich, she is still no one to be changing the nature of society. Eve found her way out, and others ought to too. If they cannot, it's not her fault, just her pleasure.

On the breakfast table, Eve sat admiring her daughter. "Mother, can I have pink petals in my bath today?" Anna asked her.

"Of Course. I will ask Mrs Peters to go and get some from the garden."

"But I want the one from Ella's garden."

"Of course you can."

"But..." Ella said quietly. "Only I go in there."

"WHAT?" Eve was always tired of Ella's mumbling. "Speak clearly." She shouted at her. "Lady of such a big house should be heard from miles away."

Ella stood up, "Only I can go in that garden."

"Then you can go and collect it for Anna," Eve replied and gestured with her eyes for Ella to sit down. And Ella, without any quibble, sat back in her chair. Another thing Eve despised about her, she would never rebel or revolt. Ella would do what was told to her without any objection or question. Eve would have put up a fight, and Anna would have done the same. It made her furious, "Go to your room Ella!" she said with a sigh, exhausted with trying to comprehend the girl in front of her. Ella stood up and ran out of the room sobbing.

"Ugh! She is frustrating." She said to her daughter.

"Its okay, Mother. You try so hard. Should I ask Ella to fetch the petals for your bath too?"

Eve looked at her with a smile and nodded.

Later they went into the parlour where they sat going through the magazines to find a new dress to get made. It had been their favourite thing from their earlier days when they were living shelter to shelter. They would often sit by the streets and watch rich and lavish ladies step out in their best dresses and fantasize about having them one day. Anna wanted a new dress for the dinner party they were supposed to attend when the father returned from his travels. From the corner of her eye, Eve could see Ella plucking the flowers from her garden, and with every bud, she plucked she would apologize to the plant. Eve chuckled and thought to herself, 'What a silly girl'.

She often felt guilt at shouting at her, but then she would see Ella do something like this, and she would say to herself, 'This girl needs tough love.'

Anna's sudden gasp broke her chain of thought, "Mother, the Duke's son would be attending the dinner next month." She stood up and pretended to faint, "He is so handsome! Oh, Mother, I must have the best dress and the best hair and the best shoes. He should lay his eyes on the best satin when he sees me. Oh mother, how wonderful it would be if he marries me." She took Eve's hands and pulled her into a twirl. They both laughed and fell on their respective chairs.

Although far fetched, Eve could imagine it happening. Anna wasn't the most beautiful, but what she lacked in traditional looks she made up in her talks.

They decided to go to the shops that very day to choose the fabrics. In her excitement, when Anna told Ella about the Duke's son, she just smiled and went back to tending to the garden. "You could have at least faked some happiness," Eve said to Ella as soon as Anna left.

"But I am happy, mother."

"Speak loudly, child. You are always laying there in your garden, feeding strays or cutting grass. Clean yourself up and make yourself useful. Tidy the house or fetch some groceries. Do something.", Eve said in rage and in that rage, she picked up a glass planter and dropped it on the ground. "Clean that too," she said over her shoulder while stepping out of the small metal gate.

That evening they were sitting surrounded by the linen they had bought earlier. "What did you bring for me, mother?" Ella came running into the room.

"No. Don't come here." Anna quickly pushed her away from the sheets. "Oh, mother, she will spoil them."

Eve lifted her head, and there stood Ella in a white apron covered with black clouds, the hair wrapped with a dirty scarf, and her hands had black grease all over them.

"Oh, God, Ella." Eve took her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry. I will go clean up." Ella said embarrassingly.

The next morning Ella asked Eve again, "What did you bring me yesterday?"

"Well, Ella, dear, dirty girls like you do not get pretty clothes."

"But what will I wear to dinner."

"You can wear something of your mother's. I am sure she had a lot of fancy dresses in her closet," Eve said dismissively.

Eve knew it was unfair to Ella, but she also knew that Ella had enjoyed certain luxuries all her life. She wore beautiful dresses and had been swooned over since she was a little girl.

It wasn't fair that Ella had all the toys to grow up with while Anna had to fight with other girls over a doll they found in the donation pit. It wasn't fair that Anna had to collect the money herself doing odd jobs to buy the cheap replica of a dress she saw at a big store. A little unfairness ought to give Ella some perspective.

Over the next week, as Anna would sit with the dressmaker and play with laces, Eve would catch Ella sitting in her room, trying to sew up the holes in the old fabrics. And while Anna spent her evenings reflecting on the lights coming from the expensive jewellery she was trying on, Ella would be off to the market to feed the stray animals. While Eve and Anna would go for tea parties with other socialites to measure up the competition, Ella would be playing with the cook's children in the house.

Eve was not extremely surprised with her behaviour when she first met her. Ella's father is just as naïve as her, which was why it was easy to get him to marry Eve. Eve does not want Ella to grow up like that. It is above all the responsibility of a mother to teach a girl how to be a lady.

"Mother!" The scream of Anna echoed in every room, and everyone ran at once.

"Anna, what happened?" Eve inquired.

"It does not match. None of it matches." Anna fell to the ground crying. In her hand was the dress she was to wear for the party and on the bed lied the beautiful necklace specially made for her. The dress was pink, the gems in the necklace were a lighter shade of pink. Eve understood Anna's sorrow. Eve too would have been crying had it have happened to her.

"This is not so bad," Ella said dismissively, and both Eve and Anna shot her a deadly look. "No, it is bad." Ella quickly corrected herself. "I mean, it is fixable. Is it not?"

"Go away, Ella."

Ella left the room, trying to justify her statement to herself as Eve sat by Anna, failing to console her.

They finally decided to look for other options. Before leaving for the market, Eve went to Ella's room to give her instructions for dinner. She opened the door and paused. She had to avert her eyes for a second from the light coming from the window. But as soon as her eyes adjusted, there stood a goddess-like beauty in front of her. Ella was wrapped from head to toe in gold, with enormous earing dangling from her ears, and she wore blue shoes which sparkled like diamonds while her auburn coloured hair lay lightly against the shimmer of the fabric. It took Eve a moment to realize that the princess in front of her was the same girl who was willing to touch the new material with grease-covered hands.

"How do I look, Mother?"

"No!" Eve shouted and slammed the door behind her as she walked away, flushed with anger.

Ella, in that one moment, had proved that it doesn't matter how much Eve and Anna lather themselves with expensive dresses and learn the proper etiquettes, they would never be equal to her. There was a type of light, the same one Eve had noticed in her husband, and Eve knew she would never be able to reflect that. It was something to be borne into, not something a person can acquire by marriage or adoption.

But even though Eve may not be able to grab that light, she would not let it blind her.

She turned around, walked up to Ella's room, took a deep breath and knocked.

"Anna is crying a lot. She is so sad. Ever since her father passed, this had been the happiest I had seen her." Eve lifted her hand and lightly wiped a drop from the corner of her eye. She took Ella's hand in hers and lifted her head to look her in the eyes. "I know you think it is stupid. You do not care for such superficial things. It is not a big deal to you."

Eve could see in Ella's eyes a slight hesitation. She might need a little more convincing.

"Anna has always been so disappointed. I know you cannot comprehend growing up in poverty. Everyone in our circle doesn't treat us as equals. You know where we come from, the shit hole we used to live in. People have trouble accepting us. They snark at us, talk behind our backs. This night, the party is her only chance to change that, to elevate herself. I hope you understand.", saying this Eve burst into tears. What surprised her was how genuine they turned out to be. Eve didn't think about it at the time, but as she watched her little girl twirl in shining golden circles, she realized how much of it was true.

On the day of the party, their father reached the house early in the morning. And both the girls did not leave his side since then. He always brought gifts for the girls from all over the places he visited. Beautiful scarfs and porcelain dolls, shining cutlery and perfect mantelpieces, and all the silk he could fit in his bags. He adored the three women and never shied away from showing it. After lunch, Eve and Anna went into their rooms to get ready for the party while Ella and her father went to the garden to plant the flowers he picked up from his last destination.

The garden was their sanctuary, which had brought them together when Ella's mother died, and they continued the tradition years after. Eve would often watch them from her window, and her eye would catch the light reflecting off them, and she would feel this ping of jealousy that the most expensive things would not be able to diminish.

The entrance hall was lit with the most extravagant chandelier that Eve had ever seen. Everyone was standing around with drinks in their hands, and there seemed to be a cluster of men collected at one end and a slightly bigger cluster of young women at the other. Few people were dancing, and a few stood staring and judging them. Eve's husband took her hand and directed the three of them to the cluster of women.

"Excuse me, Mr Charming." He said while making his way to the centre of the circle.

"I wanted to introduce you to my wife and daughters, Ella and Anna." He faced Eve, "I met Mr Charming in Paris. I told him that he must visit our small town."

"Well, it is a lovely place. Have you visited the lake yet? If not, my daughter would love to take you there." Eve said while handing him her hand.

"That sounds lovely." He said while kissing her hand. "Please excuse me. I must spend some time with my father's friends too."

The rest of the night, he spent a lot of time talking to Anna. Although she had to pull him away again and again from some other debutante every time she left his side, Eve could see that Anna was on the right path. She could smell the envy of every woman in the room as they stared blindingly at her dress and gasped every time she glided to another location.

At the end of the night, Eve took a breath of success as the Duke's son pulled her to a side as they were leaving.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid I must confess. I am smitten. I would love to get to know more of your daughter Ella.", this put a dagger into her heart, but she kept her smile and the sparkle in her eye intact, not to let him suspect anything.

"You see." He continued. "I have been in town for over a week, and every evening I would go to the market and around, and I am afraid I have been following Ella ever since she caught my eye. I have not been able to forget her. Your husband had been kind enough to bless me. I hope I have yours too." Eve could only nod and leave.

Anna was devastated. It took her nearly two weeks to step out of her room, and she still insisted on wearing black at all meals.

But seeing the Duke's son interact with her husband and Ella, Eve could see the light, that light, elevated. The house shone like the sun, every crystal sparkled, and every candle illuminated. The three of them would spend the evenings in Ella's garden. And watching them, Eve started to understand how to get it herself.

It was the same thing that attracted her to her now-husband, long before she knew of his wealth. That day, the baker caught her stealing a loaf of bread in front of him, and he, a stranger, bought it for her later. That was the first time Eve realized that people could light up the air around them. It was the light that made her fall in love with him. And after a while, she grew certain, that it was that light that pulled Mr Charming.

Maybe she should let Anna know about the light too.

[myevilmouse]

In Defense of The Rise of Skywalker

Or...how I learned to stop hating and enjoy a movie

Spoilers and random thoughts below the cut.

I hate the abomination that was/is The Last Jedi.  Let’s get that out of the way.  I’ve already explained the hundreds of reasons why, the biggest and most unforgivable being the character assassination of Luke “I call him Jake” Skywalker and the invalidation of every victory of the OT.  I resent this making people lump me into a “gatekeeper” sect, or accuse me of racism (Rose was annoying and ruined Finn’s heroism, jeopardizing hundreds of lives for her own selfish reasons without building up a convincing romance and blah blah etc).  It has nothing to do with her gender, race, or anything.  It has to do with poor character development and inconsistent motivations/messages. 

I’m also not a huge fan of The Force Awakens, mainly for its lack of originality and the treatment of Han/Leia, but otherwise I thought it was OK.  I liked Finn, wanted him to become a Jedi, found Poe to be a worthy heir to our antihero mold.  Rey left me indifferent and Kylo Ren was a temper-tantrum throwing teenager, but anyway...

Let’s keep that as background/context and not get bogged down.

Since they announced the title of this movie, I have been livid with rage. How dare they use my man’s name to sell their disgusting imitation of a beloved universe?  I was certain, ever since it was announced, that Rey would take Luke’s surname, despite having treated him so horribly in TLJ, despite having done nothing to earn it, despite having spent far more time with Leia, so if anything a Solo/Organa family name would make more sense.  It was just to sell tickets and I was furious.

I read all the spoilers.  Worst fears:  confirmed.  I looked at leaked photos.  I raged over the inanity of the plot and the sad conclusion to the Skywalker Saga, which in my mind will always end with ROTJ.

Still, I love Mark Hamill, and I decided to treat this film as a MH film. The completist in me required theatrical viewing.  Rare to get our man in a cinematic release.  So I went, ready to hate watch, prepared to dull the bitterness and betrayal with wine.

But….JJ Abrams directed a fix it fic.  And it’s good.  This film not just address the real injustices and horrible story decisions of TLJ, but also addresses some of the major problems of TFA too. 

I tried to go in with an open mind, but obviously I had many preconceived notions, and already knew almost every single story point and character beat.  I was ready to roll around in my hate and slam the abomination.  I want to emphasize that I am one of those people that was COMPLETELY prepared to hate EVERYTHING about this.

There are flaws. 

But there is so much that is great. 

I really really liked it. 

No one is more shocked than I at my own reaction.  I was ready/willing/wanting/primed to hate everything about this.  Please keep that in mind.  Hahah and no one is paying me to write this post 😉

I decided to write this because I also read all the negative critical reviews online from the pro critics yelling FAN SERVICE.  And I’m like…damn straight?  Ever since George Lucas made Han shoot second, fandom has understood that we understand this franchise better than film executives.  We aren’t concerned with adding an extra dewback or improving special effects.  We love these films the way we first experienced them, and they cannot and should not be “improved” to the ultimate detriment of the brand.

I’m here to tell you that the critics are not being fair.  The spoilers on reddit were true, but the movie works. Let’s accept, before we go further, that Abrams couldn’t entirely rewrite the mess that he stepped into/helped create. So I can’t defend the fact that Finn isn’t a Jedi yet or the mess that is the new Rebellion/failure of the old. I, like many fans, wish we had been given a different/better story from the beginning.  Sadly, we were not.

That is something we don’t have to accept (I certainly don’t consider these films “canon” in my mind—Mara Jade forever!) but let’s approach this film in the spirit it seems to be intended:  An attempt to address the very valid criticisms loudly voiced about the others in the trilogy, with the caveat that we are stuck with TFA and TLJ no matter how much we hate them.

First, the music is amazing, as we all knew it would be.  The acting is stellar.

Some of the things Abrams “fixed:”

“Rey is perfect/Mary Sue/good at everything”.  There is a conscious effort in this film to show her training, with Leia as her Master.  There is a good scene foreshadowing her final struggle, where she strains to hear the voices of Jedi past and fails.  There are several signs that she is not a Jedi yet, including how Palpatine talks about her, and perhaps my favorite, when she tells Leia she hasn’t earned Luke’s lightsaber.

Me: Damn straight you haven’t.

And Leia AGREES, keeping Luke’s weapon because Rey isn’t ready for it. She’s still learning.

Further proof of her non-Jedi status, when Rey is killed, she doesn’t join the Force.  She is a corpse.  On the other hand, Ben Solo, once redeemed, disappears as we would expect a good Jedi to do.  A clear distinction between the two of them.

And speaking of Leia:

Leia’s character:  TFA and TLJ Leia is weak and sends other people to fight, whereas our brave Princess from the OT is volunteering for suicide missions, grabbing weapons from the hands of her rescuers, and running into danger for a good cause.  It always bothered me that she didn’t go after Kylo herself (or with Han).  In this, we see her as a Jedi Master, training Rey, with her own lightsaber.  Leia is once more a badass, true to her character.  A legitimate Jedi who also joins the Force (although not sure why it took her so long post-mortem, that was weird).

Luke’s character:  Hello, I am A LUKE FANATIC.  The biggest sin of TFA and especially TLJ was this idea of Luke hiding out and becoming the disgusting, pessimistic coward he was shown to be.  Abrams ignores this pretty much entirely, starting with the revelation that Luke was actually going on missions with Lando to hunt for a Sith artifact to help the Rebellion.  Luke kept notes, he was busy and ACTIVE.  He wasn’t giving up; he was leaving a trail to help anyone who followed.  The best ‘fuck you’ in the whole movie was Luke catching Anakin’s lightsaber when Rey throws it away.  The ultimate rejection of his TLJ characterization.  

Luke’s conversation with Rey echoes very much the ROTJ “you must confront Vader” conversation.  There are many echoes of ROTJ but given the restrictions on what we are working with, I accepted this parallel.  Much like Luke had to face his unfortunate inheritance, so must Rey.  It’s not terribly original, but these films aren’t.

I also loved the simple line “I was wrong” when Rey asks why he did what he did in TLJ.  This to me is simply “Rian Johnson was wrong/The Last Jedi was wrong.”  There is no excuse that is acceptable, but this is a filmmaker acknowledging an injustice, and I appreciated it.  (Did I mention these films are not canon for me? They aren’t, just giving credit for this attempt.)

Han’s character:  I hated SO MUCH how they turned Han into a failure in TFA.  A buffoon, not even a good smuggler anymore, a failure as a father, a husband.  When I heard he was going to be in this I was like HUH?  But this “memory” of his father that Kylo Ren sees after Rey heals him and departs, after he’s lost his mother, is another attempt to redeem the injustice to Han’s character.  Han is the one in the movie who brings Kylo Ren back to the Light, not Rey.  It is a very short scene, but effective.  The acting is poignant, with the “Dad” working for me.  Maybe I’m a softie.  But I appreciated this brief proof that Han Solo, in the end, didn’t suck as a father, and ultimately, even as a hallucination, inspired the love that saved his son.

Chewbacca got a medal:  I said Abrams was fixing things in the sequels, but I admit I was choked up to see this fixit from A New Hope.  Finally Chewie gets the medal he is LONG overdue.

Team dynamic with the new characters:  Finally we understand why these people care about each other.  They go on shared adventures, they have banter (and some good jokes, not the stupid bathos of TLJ), and there is finally some sense of camaraderie that was discarded in TLJ.  There are several references to Rey’s “new family,” clearly referring to this band of Rebels, and it was far more compelling than in earlier films.

Finn’s Force Sensitivity:  I, like many, desperately wanted Finn to be a Jedi.  Since TFA, it seemed inevitable!  I loved how he used the lightsaber, how he seemed to have Force abilities (that were never really explored).  TLJ ignored that potential completely, sidelining him on that stupid Canto Bight quest and pulling him away from Rey.  There are so many signs that he is destined to be a Jedi in this film, I was thrilled to see them.  Knowing things without explanation, doing amazing things, sensing things, trusting his feelings, it’s another ‘fuck you’ in my opinion, to RJ for ignoring this former stormtrooper’s destiny in favor of overblown set pieces and pointless CGI theatrics.  When he says, towards the end “I can feel it,” I wanted to fist pump.  YOU GO BE A JEDI FINN!  THE FORCE IS WITH YOU.  Personally, I would have loved for Finn to be the main protagonist of all three films, but I appreciate us getting what we got, since we can’t get what we want.

Stuff that worked:

The Wedge cameo:  Yeah.

Lando:  Wonderful. His dialogue, especially at the beginning, does a lot to fix our view of Luke.

Kylo’s redemption:  See above re: Han.  I’ve seen a lot of criticism about the kiss.  I get the whole “female character’s purpose is to validate the evolution of the male” criticism, but I want to point out a couple things about this. First of all, it’s not a “Reylo” kiss. Kylo is gone.  This is well after Kylo is redeemed.  He’s been of the Light for a while before this, it’s clearly Ben at this point.  It’s also obvious Rey knows that, and like Luke forgave Vader for his abuse, she forgives Ben Solo for his.  So I understand also the criticism that is making people puke about Rey kissing her abuser, but again, Luke sheds tears for the father he loves, who maimed and traumatized him.  Star Wars is about redemption and forgiveness that accompanies it, and I don’t have the same issue with this.  If she kissed KYLO without him being redeemed before he died, for example, I would be disgusted.  This is not that.

The cinematography/pacing/story:  So many critics and the spoilers made it sound like this was a convoluted mess.  I went to see it with a non-native English speaker and neither of us had any trouble following the plot.  Yeah, a lot happens, but it all is linear and consistent within the film.

The humor/dialogue:  Felt way more Star Wars-y and better placed than the last two films.

The Jedi Helping Rey:  As much as I thought I would hate this, it was really well done, largely, I think, due to the foreshadowing during her earlier training.  When Palpatine says all the Sith live in him and we know what she’s gonna say but it still works SO WELL.  I was rooting for her and I’ve never been a huge fan.  But at that climactic moment, I was a believer.

Major flaws

Of course there are some.  For me the most major:

A Jedi Strikes Not In Anger: In every single lightsaber battle (pretty sure, I only saw the film once), Rey is the first to strike.  She always seems to be fighting from anger and with negative emotion.  This is not at all Jedi-esque and I found it particularly jarring in her duels with Kylo Ren.  This bothered me more than almost anything else in the film because it is never addressed.  She fights ANGRY and she fights FEARFUL and then somehow when she’s supposed to strike down Palpatine, she has it in her to resist.  This, above all else, makes me not like her as the “heir to the Jedi”.  I thought it was a real problem, and makes her ultimate evolution at the finale less convincing.

Rey Skywalker:  I get why they did it, but I stand by my earlier thoughts regarding taking the Solo or Organa name.  I have nothing against adopted families.  And I found it SLIGHTLY more palpable because since the Emperor refers to Ben as “the last Skywalker” and then since he transfers his entire life force into her, you can argue that she has “Skywalker” literally in her spirit now.  OK fine.  But I still don’t really think she earned it.  She came CLOSER than I thought she would and I didn’t ultimately want to burn down the cinema as I expected I would want to.

Force Resurrection:  No. Just no.  This changes so much and makes so much of the earlier films moot. Why wouldn’t Anakin just resurrect Padme?  Don’t get me started.

Other random new Force things:  Like Force Ghosts touching shit.  Yeah I know Obi Wan sat on the tree in Dagobah, I know, but we keep learning new and more powerful Force shit each film.  Teleportation of objects (that lightsaber?!), astral projection, rapid healing, and now playing catch with your ghost friends.  I get they are important to the story but it feels lazy.  But my exception here was Luke catching the saber because FUCK YOU RJ. 😊

Redemption=Death:  I wanted Kylo Ren to die for his sins too, but I recognize this strange thing we have going on in the GFFA that if a baddie goes good they die.  It’s the equivalent of the horror movie “fuck and the killer gets you” trope.  I didn’t necessarily mind Ben dying, but it seemed … lazy.

The final shot:  It was a mistake to even touch this iconic moment.  It wasn’t earned.  Make your own legend/iconic moment and leave my farmboy his.

Something no one can fix:  The sucky destinies of Luke Jake, Han, and Leia.  They didn’t live happy lives, they didn’t see the end of tyranny, they all died with only the hope of success.  I will never forgive the attempted destruction of the legacy of the OT (attempted cause it’s still how it all ends in my world), this disregard of the triumph of the Rebellion over the Empire, and I will never believe that the New Republic failed so completely and miserably.  Bring on the EU/Legends and forget this shit.

Final thought:  I went to this expecting the cinematic equivalent of a back alley abortion and instead I got what felt like an apology.  An entertaining and polished and sincere apology.  We deserved better, and I think the people who made this film realized that and did their best.  TROS had to wrap up something that was divisive and imperfect and misguided, and tried as hard as it could, in my opinion, given what they were working with.

It was a good movie.  Ambitious, with flaws, but I am glad I saw it, and I hope you will be too. <3  May the Force be with you.

[crackimagines]

To the End of a Dream (evil!Byleth AU)

AU Masterlist Here!

Withering Flower - FINALE (Part 1)

With the Knights of Nemesis retreating from Gronder and about to activate the Javelin of Liberation, Dimitri, Edelgard, and Claude leave the Church forces behind to pursue Byleth.

Their final clash will be at Garreg Mach.

-----

The Elites of the Fell Star Journal - “Second battle of Garreg Mach”

Having everything end where our plans began.

There was no need for anyone to point out the irony of the situation. 

Not only was the Empire attacking us, but the Kingdom and Alliance and even the damned Church raised arms against us, and only us.

One way or another that day, we all thought the same thing.

“This will finally end when hundreds of us lay dead at either side.”

-----

Byleth was in the classroom organizing his papers when he heard the doors open.

(Byleth) “Hm? Oh, class.”

The Black Eagles class walked up to him, looking very excited.

(Byleth) “What’s with the smile on everyone’s faces?”

(Dorothea) “Well, professor! The ball is tomorrow!”

(Edelgard) “Hah, I have no worthwhile memories of such an event, yet I am still looking forward to it.”

(Hubert) “As am I, in the sense that I look forward to destroying all the unworthy suitors that would swarm Lady Edelgard.”

(Ferdinand) “I admit, Edelgard is adorable, however I think I am far superior on the dance floor!”

(Dorothea) “You’re not a bad dancer Ferdie but you have some moves that are...hard to watch.”

(Linhardt) “I also know how to dance...in theory. Maybe I should participate as well.”

(Bernadetta) “N-NOT ME! You wouldn’t catch me dancing no sooner than you’d see a fish swimming through the sky!”

(Caspar) “You do tend to flop around like a fish on land after all! Though, speaking of it, do we get to choose who we dance with and stuff? I wonder who I’ll ask...”

(Petra) “I will fight with all I have!”

(Byleth) “Er...I don’t think fighting is what you’ll be doing, Petra-”

(Dorothea) “So, professor, got anyone in mind?~”

Byleth raised his eyebrow at her.

(Byleth) “I...don’t think I’m going to dance, I’m a mercenary not a-”

(Ferdinand) “No, you’re not a mercenary either, professor! You’re our teacher!”

(Bernadetta) “I-I won’t be dancing but, I’m sure watching you would be interesting!”

(Edelgard) “Our professor ball dancing?” Snrrk!

(Byleth) “I-I can dance! At least...I think I can?”

(Caspar) “You mean those ‘dances’ you do with the other mercenaries? That’s drunk dancing!”

(Hubert) “Seeing our professor ‘drunk dance’ at a ball as fancy as this would be very entertaining? May I humbly request you do this?”

(Byleth) “Absolutely not.”

Everyone began chatting about the dance, Byleth’s dancing skills and who they were going to ask to dance.

Edelgard watched the class engage in such a lively manner, it brought a smile to her face.

(Edelgard) “Excuse me, sorry to change the subject but I have a proposition. Five years from tomorrow, let’s all agree to meet up again!”

(Caspar) “Like a class reunion? That’s a great idea!”

(Petra) “Yes, you will get to see how much growing I have done! This is a good idea!”

(Byleth) “Five years time? Hah, I wonder how all you kids will be five years from now.”

(Linhardt) “And you won’t be enjoying a cozy retirement by then, professor?”

(Byleth) “Hah, not likely being honest. Though, no matter what I’ll be, I’ll be right back here in time.”

(Edelgard) “It’s a promise, professor. Don’t you forget it!”

-----

(Edelgard) “Five years...”

(Dimitri) “El?”

(Edelgard) “O-Oh, Dimitri. Sorry I...”

He stood next to Edelgard, looking up at the monastery.

(Dimitri) “We cannot turn the hands of time back to what it once was.”

(Edelgard) “I know but...maybe if I had done something different...Byleth wouldn’t be what he is now. If I had never started the war then...Maybe we could have all lived in peace together-”

(Claude) “What’s done is done, Edelgard.”

He walked up beside her, looking up with the two.

(Claude) “Much as I would have loved to live a life of friendship, reality doesn’t work that way. All we can do now is try to right our wrongs.”

(Dimitri) “No matter what, we’ll stay alive long enough to fix this world, together.”

(Edelgard) “...Together.”

(Claude) “I like the sound of that. But, right now we gotta hurry. We’ll be within Garreg Mach in an hour...”

(Edelgard) “Byleth...”

(Everyone) “...”

(Edelgard) “Alright. Let us put an end to it, once and for all.”

...

Byleth stood near the gates watching the three armies converge on their location.

(Soldier) “Sir, the Javelin of Liberation will be activating soon. All of the main forces who haven’t rebelled are out here in the gates.”

He nodded.

Ever since the massive casualties at Gronder, their morale was shaken and started to question their loyalty.

The fact that Shamir, Alois, and Leonie had defected did not help easing their fears.

There was an uprising within the barracks that had to be contained. No one had time to properly kill them.

(Soldier) “If I may sir?”

(Byleth) “Go ahead.”

(Soldier) “I don’t think there’s much chances of us surviving this fight, so you need to get to a safespot and ensure that the Javelin activates.”

Byleth turned to the soldier.

(Byleth) “You are right but...Not being with my men in this battle would surely break mora-”

(Soldier) “We’re all dying for this cause, one way or another. For us loyalists, I’d be more comfortable knowing our deaths ensured victory.”

Byleth looked at the armies who were getting closer, seeing Edelgard leading everyone alongside Dimitri and Claude.

(Byleth) “...Understood. Sothis watch over you all.”

The soldier nodded, and started directing commands to the others, preparing for battle.

Byleth went to the roof to watch the Javelin’s progress on activation.

The main core was in the Tombs where he found the Sword of the Creator, near the chapel.

(Byleth) “All of this blood I have shed...All the lives lost. All will soon be forgiven for everyone...”

...

(Dimitri) “Even though he is our old friend, we must not go easy today...”

(Claude) “As long as we pull off the victory, doesn’t matter how.”

(Edelgard) “Our victory must be absolute, no matter what it may take...”

Kingdom, Alliance, and Empire soldiers drew their swords, the House Leaders retainers coming up to them.

(Dedue) “We all are ready to lay down our lives to stop this madness.”

(Hilda) “Speak for yourself! I don’t plan on dying. I plan on kicking their butts, and living to tell the tale!”

(Hubert) “An inelegant way of putting it, but something I agree with nevertheless.”

...

The Blue Lions slowly drew out their weapons.

(Sylvain) “Can’t say that this is where I imagined the war taking us but...I’m glad we’re all together today.”

(Ingrid) “I will protect my homeland, and my people!”

(Felix) “Tch...If I die here, then the Old Man would never let me hear the end of it...”

(Annette) “My father is gone, but I will not be losing anyone else today!”

(Mercedes) “I’ll protect everyone, even if it means losing my own life!”

(Death Knight) “You will not be losing it when I am around, because I will make sure you die by my hands...”

(Ashe) “Lonato, Christophe, everyone...Today, we’ll make things right for everyone!”

...

The Golden Deers all stood behind Hilda.

(Marianne) “After seeing so much death firsthand, I now realize how precious life is. I won’t let everyone be robbed of such a wonderful thing!”

(Raphael) “I got my little sister, and she sure as heck isn’t going to get killed by this weird Javelin thing if I have anything to say about it!”

(Ignatz) “I’ll protect my family, and all of ours!”

(Lorenz) “What kind of noble would I be if I let a tragedy such as this slide? It is my honor to-”

(Lysithea) “Put a sock in it, would you?...Hmph, I’m not sure I have long to live but, I won’t be letting it end early!”

...

The Black Eagles Strike Force looked down sadly.

(Linhardt) “To think this is where 5 years would put us...”

(Bernadetta) “This one time, I won’t run away. If I die today, well...At least I know it was for all of you.”

(Caspar) “Randolph...even though I didn’t know you that well, I’ll make the professor pay for what he’s done to you, and your sister!”

(Dorothea) “Professor...”

(Ferdinand) “I am conflicted as well but, I will be protecting all of our homes.”

(Petra) “Whether it be Brigid or Fodlan, protect them I shall!”

...

(Edelgard) “Hubert. From the schematics and plans Leonie told us, you and the other retainers will lead the students to the core.”

(Hubert) “And you’ll be going for the control room where Byleth is, correct?”

She nodded.

(Hilda) “We’ll get it done, don’t you worry Miss Edelgard!”

(Dedue) “Leave it to us.”

Everyone looked back to the gates and took a deep breath.

Everything they did here would decide the fate of everyone.

[Apex of the World (Rain) - Fire Emblem Three Houses] 

(Edelgard) “FORWARD, NOW!”

(Dimitri) “FOR HONOR!”

Claude motioned forward, and charged with everyone else.

Demonic Beasts came barreling out of the gate, running at a full tilt sprint at them.

Dimitri jumped into the air slammed the lance straight into its head, making it stop and trip over, the corpse now acting as a mini shield for everyone.

The second beast tried going for Claude, only to miss as his Wyvern flew into the air, letting Claude land a shot in the eye.

Hilda, Lorenz, and Ignatz attacked from the sides, sticking their weapons into its head as it tried to break free from the barrage.

Marianne and Lysithea finished it off with a combination of holy and dark magic, burning parts of the body off or completely disintegrating it.

The third beast swung its claws at Edelgard, which was blocked by a magical barrier that reflected it back.

She stood still readying her axe as the rest of the class charged in front of her.

Caspar grabbed onto its head while it was recoiling, and started punching it in the eye, with Hubert, Dorothea, and Linhardt keeping it down with magic.

Ferdinand, Petra, and Bernadetta began taking down the soldiers that were accompanying the beasts and were eventually joined in by the others.

The Blue Lions rushed into the town with Dimitri, seeing the soldiers in formation, walking towards them.

(Ingrid) “RIGHT AND LEFT FLANKS!”

Soldiers emerged from the houses, catching several Kingdom soldiers off guard and killed them.

The Death Knight was almost caught off guard by two soldiers, but his horse leaped back, and cut both their heads off with his scythe.

(Dimitri) “KEEP AN EYE ON THE HOUSES, SOME ARE IN HIDING!”

Dimitri swiped his lance upwards, cutting off the limbs of one knight as he helped one of his own up.

The rest of the classes joined in, with troopers on all sides pouring from the other entrances.

(Nemesis Knight 1) “THEY’RE IN, SHUT THE GATES!”

The Gates closed behind Edelgard, seeing that a good portion of her soldiers were still out there, alongside Claude’s and Dimitri’s.

Claude’s Wyvern landed on a porch right in front of the gate and motioned to everyone.

(Claude) “PREVENT ANY REINFORCEMENTS FROM COMING IN OUTSIDE, AND FIND A WAY TO BLAST THESE GATES OPEN!”

(Alliance Captain) “Yes, Milord!”

Claude nodded and flew back into the fight that was ensuing in the town.

Felix and Sylvain struck down a soldier trying to charge Annette and Mercedes who were trying to cast a spell.

As another squad tried to come at them from behind, Ingrid swooped in, knocking them all back with her Pegasus and skewered one of the soldiers on her lance, making her drop it and pulling out a sword.

Annette and Mercedes shot a line of ice spikes that shot out of the ground, sending a battalion flying into the buildings around them.

Ashe took out the enemy snipers trying to shoot Ingrid, and Dedue protected him from any attackers coming from behind. 

A soldier turned the corner and ran straight into Dedue’s shield, making him kick the soldier down, tumbling onto other soldiers falling at the bottom.

Once the Town Square was clear, they all moved to the gates.

However, more and more soldiers began to surround them.

(Dimitri) “Damn, there’s no end to them!”

Dimitri cut down several soldiers, twirling his lance and impaling a soldier behind him without turning to look at him.

Edelgard crushed a soldier completely into the concrete, breaking it and making blood splatter everywhere as Hubert shot a fireball into the building, making everything inside explode.

A soldier opened the door from the building, completely on fire as he fell to the ground dead.

(Edelgard) “We will not be able to make it to Monastery at this rate!”

(Hilda) “Claude, take Dimitri and Edelgard to the monastery, there’s no time to wait up on us!”

They all looked back to their retainers, realizing if they had any chance, they had to be left behind.

(Dedue) “Your highness, go!”

(Hubert) “We have no intention of dying just yet!”

(Hilda) “GO YOU IDIOT!”

Claude nodded, and had Dimitri and Edelgard hop on.

(Claude) “This ride’s gonna be really bumpy, so hang on!”

His Wyvern shot off towards the Monastery, leaving everyone behind.

(Dedue) “Now, it’s up to us!”

The soldiers who accompanied the classes were finally wiped out by the overwhelming numbers of Knights of Nemesis, who slowly began to surround them.

(Hilda) “Looks like they still haven’t found a way to enter in yet! We need reinforcements!”

(Hubert) “EVERYONE, HOLD YOUR GROUND!”

All the classes stood back to back, drawing out their weapons as they moved closer in.

(Ingrid) “So many of them...!”

(Lorenz) “I admit, I’m more than a little worried!”

(Hilda) “I never thought I’d be dying back at the schoolgrounds!”

(Dedue) “How about side by side with your classmates?”

(Hilda) “...No!”

(Hubert) “Both of you be quiet, we need a plan!”

(Bernadetta) “You know what...?!”

Everyone turned to Bernadetta who grasped her bow firmly.

(Bernadetta) “TO HELL WITH ALL OF YOU, NONE OF YOU ARE GONNA KILL ANY OF US TODAY!”

She took the chance to fire her arrow straight through someone’s head, making the soldiers flinch.

(Death Knight) “Well said, little one! General Vestra, you have your plan!”

Before they could react, the Death Knight jumped into the crowd, swinging his sycthe left and right and decapitating and chopping people into pieces.

Now, the rest of the class began attacking, charging and making their enemies back up in fear.

Ashe and Petra pulled out a sword and started trading blows with anyone who got too close to their circle, followed by Felix and Sylvain.

Annette and Mercedes went back into the circle as everyone was keeping the close combat soldiers at bay, alongside Marianne, Lysithea, Dorothea, Linhardt and Hubert.

Spells ranging from healing to offensive were being cast, keeping everyone in fighting shape as they slowly turned the odds back into their favor.

Ingrid grabbed Ignatz by the hand and onto her Pegasus, leading them towards archers who were about to fire into the crowd.

Ignatz dropped down and sliced most of their bows in half, with one archer being able to shoot into the crowd.

Dedue grabbed his shield and deflected an arrow that was about to hit HIlda.

(Dedue) “Ineffective!”

(Hilda) “Thanks!”

She said cheerfully as she swung her axe down, cutting someone in half, and kicking the legs toward a crowd.

Caspar and Raphael used their gauntlets to pulverize the enemies, charging straight in together, crushing heads and stabbing through stomachs.

A group tried to gang up on Raphael, who grabbed one of the soldiers by the legs and swung his body like a weapon, sending troopers flying back from the sheer force.

Ferdinand and Lorenz had to get off their horses to fight in such close quarters, elegantly dodging with their lances and striking back, almost as if they were fencing instead.

The more that everyone cut down, the more soldiers that took their place coming in.

(Ashe) “S-So many!”

(Dedue) “WHERE ARE THE REINFORCEMENTS?!”

As if on cue, one of the gates close by completely exploded, shooting debris all over the floor.

Everyone stopped fighting and looked towards the noise, unsure of whose side it was.

(Nemesis Knight) “That came from the barracks we had in town!”

More Knights of Nemesis emerged from the smoke, raising their weapons.

The students clenched their teeth, raising their weapons as the Knights of Nemesis started to cheer.

Their cheering stopped when they saw Thunder Catherine step out in front of them.

(Catherine) “Sorry to keep you all waiting!”

An arrow flew out of the smoke, hitting a soldier dead in the eye, letting the Knights with Catherine charge out into the fray.

They were joined by Knights of Seiros, adding more to the chaos and confusion.

(Nemesis Knight) “DAMN IT, THE DEFECTORS GOT OU-AUGH!”

A soldier had an axe thrown into his chest, and another was taken out by a woman on horseback.

(Shamir) “Looks like we made it in time.”

(Alois) “Had to make a quick detour!”

(Leonie) “Come on, the Monastery guards will be too busy to deal with us!”

The classes looked off into the distance and saw smoke coming from Garreg Mach.

Even the demonic beasts were having a hard time dealing with the Defectors.

(Shamir) “The beasts we made were ordered not to attack our own forces in the event someone possessed them or Those Who Slither were still around. Obviously, that came to bite them in the ass.”

(Hilda) “Then what are we waiting for, let’s get a move on!”

Everyone nodded, and left the fighting to the soldiers, running towards Garreg Mach.

Catherine was leading the charge, cutting down anyone foolish enough to get in her way, with the classes coming in right behind her.

(Alois) “We’re heading towards the chapel’s Tomb! That’s where the core is!”

Everyone nodded and made a mad dash for the chapel.

Able to run through most of the mayhem with the Loyalists and Defectos fighting each other, they ran down the stairs and saw the core.

It was a massive glowing crystal that was so bright, it almost illuminated the entire tomb.

(Leonie) “There it is, let’s go!”

(Dedue) “A moment, Leonie.”

(Leonie) “Huh?”

(Hilda) “Where are the guards at?”

Everyone remained silent until they saw a shadowy figure form in front of the crystal.

(Hubert) “That sword shape!”

Catherine turned her attention to the weapon the figure was holding.

(Catherine) “The Sword of the Creator! Damn it, it’s Byleth!”

(Linhardt) “N-No it isn’t! Look at the shape of that person!”

(Death Knight) “It is someone worse...”

The core pulsated, and now lit the entire room up to where everyone could see the figure clear as day.

...

“Who...WHO ARE YOU ALL?!”

(Mage) “Sir, the ressurection is working, and he’s under our control.”

(Byleth) “Amazing, Thales. Simply amazing. Trying to resurrect this man against Seiros. How symbolic.”

“That sword...that is mine...! And that crest...!”

(Byleth) “It was never yours to begin with. Sothis belongs to no one.”

“Your hair...your eyes..that means...YOU’RE ONE OF THEM-”

(Byleth) “Kneel.”

“HRRGH! I...CANNOT...MOVE...”

(Byleth) “This is your duty, and you will obey. You are to protect this room from invaders, and you will forfeit your life in order to protect it.”

“I AM A KING! YOU CANNOT CHAIN ME DOWN LIKE-”

(Byleth) “I can, and will. I’ve read the reports on what you are. You’re nothing more than a pathetic old man, but a useful one I suppose. Put him into stasis and have him reemerge once someone has infiltrated.”

(Mage) “Yes sir.”

“YOU WHELPS, DO YOU NOT KNOW WHO I AM?!”

...

[God-Shattering Star - Fire Emblem Three Houses]

(Hubert) “Nemesis...!”

“You...YOU ALL WILL DI-”

(Hilda) “GO BACK TO HELL YOU CRUSTY OLD BASTARD!”

(Leonie) “Goddess, that’s what Byleth was doing all this time down here?!”

(Dedue) “Tch, doesn’t matter! We must get to the core, from the way it’s glowing its about to activate!”

(Catherine) “THEN LET’S DO THIS! EVERYONE, CHARGE!”

(Everyone) “HYAAAAAAAAA-”

(Nemesis) “NO ONE WILL GET IN MY WAY TO DESTROY SEIROS AND HER CRONIES!”

Nemesis charged into the students, and clashed swords with Catherine.

The swings were met blow for blow, both of them too fast to actually make any decisive hits.

Alois and Leonie came in from the sides, attempting to flank him.

Kicking Catherine away, he cut the head off Leonie’s horse, making her fly off and the horse making Alois roll out the way.

Bernadetta, Ignatz, and Ashe fired several arrows at him while he was in place, making him back off.

Activating the whip, he deflected the arrows and swung it the archers.

Ignatz managed to dodge in time, but Ashe and Bernadetta were hit by it, making them hit the floor.

Leonie and Alois charged again, Alois slamming the axe onto the floor with Nemesis rolling out the way, blocking Leonie’s hit in time.

Pulling back his sword, he swung at Alois, cutting his axe in half and striking him down, a visible scar on his armor as he fell down.

Leonie sustained a similar injury, though without the blessing of armor, having blood spill out.

(Hilda) “LEONIE!”

(Hubert) “FOCUS!”

Nemesis jumped into the air, slamming his bastardized version of the Sword of the Creator into the ground, creating a mini shockwave.

Dedue, Hilda, and Hubert, and Catherine were sent flying and hit the pillars behind them, falling onto the ground.

Annette and Mercedes fired a multitude of spells at him, Nemesis using the whip to absorb the spells with his sword.

Quickly deactivating the whip, he countered both the Death Knight and Felix’s attacks, who came from his sides.

Nemesis grabbed Felix and threw him onto the Death Knight, making him fall off his horse.

The horse went ballistic, and started charging at Nemesis out of pure fear, which he cut in half with a single slice.

He turned to his right and saw Ferdinand, Lorenz, and Sylvain charging with their lances in three separate directions. 

Flicking his wrist, the whip reactivated and he swung it upwards, decapitating all the horses and inflicting cuts that went through all three of their armors.

He noticed that his shadow was growing larger, and looked upwards seeing Ingrid trying to divebomb him with the Pegasus.

Rolling to the side and taking several swings, both unable to land a solid hit on each other.

Nemesis grabbed Ingrid by the arm, and pulled her towards him and off her mount.

He punched her in the stomach, denting the armor and making her cough up blood.

The force which he grabbed her dislocated Ingrid’s arm, and he threw her into the closest wall, making the wall crack using Ingrid as a projectile.

When she fell onto the floor, it was then he noticed that Lysithea, Annette, and Dorothea were charging up a spell.

It was starting to become brighter than the core in the room.

(Lysithea) “FIRE!”

Unleashing a beam of dark magic, it completely incinerated the pillars next to Nemesis, with him barely dodging in time.

He was about to run before he noticed that parts of his arms were singed off, making it hard to hold the Sword of the Creator.

Flicking his wrist, he was about to strike at the three mages until it got caught onto something.

Looking back, he saw the Death Knight’s scythe was holding the whip.

Caspar and Raphael leaped out from cover, and drove their gauntlets into his head, making an audible cracking noise.

Instead of falling over, Nemesis mustered all his strength to throw the Death Knight around like a ragdoll, finally releasing his grip.

Having nothing to restrain him, he headbutted Caspar so hard that blood came out from both their heads, and kicked Raphael into the ground.

Nemesis aimed his sword at Raphael’s heart, but his hand was shot by a precision shot, making the sword fly off from his hands.

Turning back, he saw Shamir and Petra, loading up arrows.

He ran up to them, leaving his sword behind and using rage as his weapons, raised his fists.

Petra and Shamir dodged his punch, as he punched the wall and created two massive holes.

They took out their daggers and went for the his knees, slicing the major arteries and hopping away quickly before he could retaliate.

From this position, Nemesis could see the room clearly.

All the mages in the room immediately went to healing the injured, Mercedes, Marianne and Linhardt healing the gravely injured first.

However it was at this point he realized he didn’t see Hubert, Catherine, Hilda or Dedue from where he knocked them out.

He saw Lysithea in the distance, firing at a spell behind a rock.

Then, the bright light appeared right above him.

Catherine was warped right on top of him, slamming Thunderbrand into his arms, which he tried to use as a shield.

Feeling his bones start to split apart, he then realized where the other three were.

Right beside Catherine.

Hilda slammed her axe into his legs, severing it, which made him lose balance, leading to his arm getting cut off by Thunderbrand.

Dedue slammed his shield with all his strength on top of Nemesis’s head, crushing it and splattering his head all over the floor.

Everyone hopped out the way as Hubert casted his most powerful dark spell, completely overwhelming Nemesis’s body and vaporizing it into dust.

Once his body was gone, the mock Sword of the Creator dissipated into the air.

(Shamir) “Leonie, Alois!”

Marianne grabbed Leonie while Mercedes helped Alois up, trying to heal their injuries.

(Leonie) “D-Don’t worry about us, the core...!”

They all looked to the core which was pulsating faster and faster.

(Shamir) “Shit, it’s about to activate!”

(Alois) “Y-you-agh! N-Need to overload it with magic! HURRY!”

Dorothea, Linhardt, Lysithea, and Annette all started to cast their strongest spells and aimed it at the core.

(Shamir) “NOW!”

At the same time, all of them shot from their hands, ranging from ice, holy, dark, meteoric spells onto the core, hitting it all at once.

The core exploded into fragments, the energy overtaking the room in a bright light.

[SONG END]

Catherine held her eyes shut, expecting to lose all feeling from the blast, until she opened an eye.

The room was just lit dimly with the orange torches that were in the room, no longer outshined by the core.

She looked around her, seeing all the students were having a similar reaction.

(Leonie) “We...did it...hah...!”

Marianne felt Leonie go limp, which prompted her to start shaking her.

(Hilda) “L-LEONIE!”

(Marianne) “I-It’s the shock from her blood loss, I can still save her!”

(Catherine) “And the others?!”

(Sylvain) “A-Agh...right here...!”

Sylvain was helped up by Felix, but they nearly tripped over themselves once they saw how Ingrid was.

Ferdinand and Lorenz helped each other up, which Linhardt began to heal the both of them, alongside Dorothea.

(Hubert) “That was far closer than I’d like...”

(Hilda) “N-No kidding...!”

(Dedue) “Wait a second, our lords!”

Everyone’s eyes widened when Dedue said that.

They may have taken out the core.

But what about Byleth?

-------

[tintinwrites]

tonight | Poe Dameron x Reader | Part Two

A/N: I am so glad you guys are hyped for this story! I loved working on it and I’m so excited to share it with you. I plan to put out a chapter every Sunday, so stay tuned each week! Please enjoy!!

Rating: T

Warning: Descriptions of injuries. Reader realizes she has more than likely been manipulated her entire life.

Word count: 2,072, apparently!!

Summary: You, a First Order officer, and Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the Resistance, are drawn to each other from the moment you meet. Very loosely based on West Side Story, which is obvs based on Romeo and Juliet.

Masterlist

GIF credit: No idea, but it’s not mine.

Tags: @yana-versio @bobateaandchocolatepudding @yeeterbenjaminparker @aroseamongthestars @unicorntrooper

You'd been confused ever since you met that rebel. Why did he think you were a murderer just from looking at you? Had you looked too angry? Sure, you'd been a little upset that he was about to hurt the group of stormtroopers you were overseeing, but you thought you were fairly calm about it.

Maybe you shouldn't have taken out your blaster. You hadn't intended to use it unless you really had to.

But he had his blaster, too, and you'd heard stories of the Resistance. He was far more likely to happily kill you, so why was he calling you a murderer?

It had been a couple weeks since you met him and you still wondered why he had made such baseless assumptions about you. You found yourself unable to concentrate on your duties, you were thinking about it so much.

So when you were doing checks and saw the rebel being dragged into the base — for questioning, you'd been told when you asked a trooper — you decided that you would pay him a visit. If others were questioning him, you could, too.

General Hux was more than pleased that you would be joining their efforts, not even hesitating to give you access to the room they were keeping the man in.

It was very dark and very quiet when you entered. He was strapped to a device, just barely gazing up at you, looking like it took all his strength not to simply pass out.

"I tell them to try harder and they send in you?" His words were slurred with what sounded like pain and exhaustion. "I knew you weren't all innocent."

"I came to question you, just like them." You kept your distance, just in case, and didn't notice his look of bewilderment. "Why did you call me a murderer? And a monster?"

He stared for a brief moment. "Because I know firsthand everything the First Order is capable of. I know that it takes someone evil to be a part of this."

"I've been taught all my life that the Resistance and rebellion are the evil ones. We want peace over the galaxy, while you thrive on its chaos."

"—you really think they're just questioning me?"

"Yes."

"Come here."

You shrank in on yourself a little, eyeing him cautiously. "I don't think that would be wise."

"I'm strapped down tight. I can't do anything to you." He shook his arms to show that the metal around his wrists was secure.

Biting your lip, you nodded slightly and started towards him, stopping with some space still between the two of you. "Why am I here—" Your words ended with a gasp as he tilted his head forward, allowing you to see the bleeding injuries on his face. Was he trying to imply that this was done to him? "You...you've hurt yourself."

"No. No, you know the truth, I can see it." He let you see his bleeding temple, which had you frowning in sympathy. "They're questioning me, yeah, with a little extra encouragement added in. You know why?"

You opened your mouth and then shut it upon realizing that no one had actually told you what they wanted him to tell them. "No."

"They want to know where the map to Luke Skywalker is. So they can find him and kill him, and rid the galaxy of Jedi."

"No! That—" You hesitated. Why would your colleagues want Luke Skywalker? You knew the Jedi were bad and that he would never join your side, so if they weren't going to get him to join you, then...

You shouldn't have come in to question him, because now you were even more confused.

"They're good...they wouldn't..." Yes, some members of your group were a little overzealous, but did that mean they were cruel? That murder was easy for them? You recalled one day when you had witnessed General Hux's anger, but that had been far different.

"You really don't know, do you, kid?" His voice was full of wonder; tired eyes full of complete perplexity. "You've really never killed anyone?"

"No. No! I just want peace. I thought that was what we all wanted." You looked down at your feet, berating yourself for second guessing all you had grown up with, and the man stared at you.

"I'm about to put a lot of trust in you, so if it turns out that you're lying to me and you're some evil mastermind, I'm gonna be really pissed off." He waited until you curiously met his gaze before continuing, "My name is Poe Dameron. I'm a pilot for the Resistance, and we want peace. We only kill if we have to — like you were going to when you saw me going after those stormtroopers. The First Order has been manipulating the hell out of you. They're the ones who make chaos, they're the ones who kill without a second thought, they're the ones who want to take over the galaxy, and they're the ones who want everyone to be like them."

You shook your head. "You're lying to me."

His eyes were too honest. Too honest. Why couldn't there be a flicker of doubt or malice in them? Then you could have hope that he was lying and that your whole upbringing hadn't been manipulated.

"I'm not. Look, if you let me out of here, I'll take you with me." His tone was also honest and that only made your fears grow.

Your fear also felt like some strange hope you hadn't realized you needed, and that feeling had you eyeing his restraints. You felt like you were floating closer, touching the metal and then his hand.

But it was all too much. To be told that everything you knew was a lie was far too much and seemed like it was an easy lie, and you felt too scared to set him free.

"I'm sorry." You had never held anyone's hand before. Was that some wrong thing that only happened when you were part of the First Order? Did members of the Resistance hold each other's hands? You forced yourself to pull yours away from his, even though it was warm and the kind touch relaxed you both.

"Especially if you're telling the truth, but I...I cannot risk losing everything I have for a man I should be against." You swiftly turned and made your way to the door.

"Do you have a name?" His question made you pause, but you didn't turn. "Or are you not worth a human name? Are you Officer Number 107 or something?" You couldn't tell if he was curious or taunting.

"I...I shouldn't tell you."

"Come on, I told you mine. I told you the truth. The least you could do is tell me your name."

It was a simple request from a possibly honest man. All he wanted was your name.

There were so many thoughts swirling through your head that you didn't tell him, instead running out of the room and leaving him alone.

Your confusion was strong, but your newfound suspicion was stronger.

You should have forgotten what Poe said. He could have easily been lying to you, but he sounded so truthful.

And now you were watching your colleagues closer. You noticed how quick their tempers were, how the stormtroopers got in trouble for the smallest mistakes, how they spoke of rule and power, how General Hux had ordered a group of troopers to 'strike down anything that speaks against us' before he sent them off to a planet.

That one had scared you the most. It made everything you were told seem especially true, and you didn't know how to deny it.

You felt so...lost. Everything you were taught, everything you knew was steadily crumbling around you. All you wanted was peace and you thought that was the First Order's goal, that the Resistance was full of true evil, but it suddenly all felt wrong.

You were wandering down a corridor rather aimlessly a couple days after your forced epiphany when you nearly walked right into a stormtrooper and Poe Dameron.

"Oh! Uh...officer—"

"FN-2187." The name-that-wasn't-actually-a-name felt wrong after Poe's comment of 'not being worth a human name'. Poe seemed impressed by the fact that you knew who it was so quickly, but you meant it when you said they were your friends and not your subordinates. "What are you doing?"

"I was just...uh..."

"He's not going to be executed, is he?" You said the words before you could stop yourself, eyes widening. That was never something you would have assumed would happen before.

"No. I'm...transporting him. Yeah, yeah, that's good."

"What?"

"—I'm transporting him."

It didn't take a genius to know what he was doing. FN-2187 had always been a bit hesitant when it came to his duties — you understood why now — so it was easy to figure out that he was leaving. That he was probably going to join the prisoner, whose words were probably true, and whose world was probably better for him.

You could have gotten General Hux. You could have been a good officer, done what was right, and helped your good cause.

But your cause seemed to be selfish now. Cruelty hidden beneath convincing words to get its way.

Your heart pounded at the thought of turning them in. You were afraid they might be killed if you told someone, and you were also afraid that you were defecting. At least on the inside, as truly defecting seemed like a terrifying thing to do.

"You had better transport him fast. You know how the general feels about wasting time." You spoke softly, purposefully, to let them know that they were safe.

"Yes, ma'am." The relief and appreciation in FN-2187's voice was as clear as the surprise and slight fondness in Poe's eyes. "You could come with us."

"No, I couldn't." Your response was immediate. You couldn't because you were scared of getting caught, and you couldn't because what if it really was some intricate lie? What if you ended up in the hands of a group more sinister than the one yours was described as just a couple days before?

"Thank you." That was Poe, looking at you gratefully as FN-2187 continued to lead him down the hallway.

You watched them walk, for a second, before you became overwhelmed with the need to tell him something. You weren't sure why, but it seemed important that he know. "Y/N."

"Huh?" He looked over his shoulder.

"My name. I do have one. It's Y/N."

"Y/N." The way he said your name — with this little smile that you found charming, which was odd since you'd never stopped to find a smile charming before — made you feel human in a way that you didn't realize you hadn't felt. You had a name, unlike stormtroopers, but you were so used to only hearing your surname, and it was always out of respect or right before you were given some order. "Thank you, Y/N."

You watched them go with a pang of regret, but your fear was enough to keep you from going after them. Even if your world was a lie, you weren't meant for something different when it was such a risk.

Poe Dameron didn't know you, anyway. He would forget. And FN-2187 would likely have a life more suited to him, and be happier out there. They didn't really need you along for the ride just to give you possible freedom.

What you didn't know was that, as Poe made his escape, your name kept repeating in his head, over and over. It was a name he'd heard before, so why the hell did it seem so beautiful now that he associated it with a First Order officer? Sure, you were surrounded by evil and somehow existed without a hint of malice, but you were part of the First Order. You were his enemy.

But, stars, that name really never had been so beautiful before.

Neither of you would be forgetting each other any time soon, you thinking of the kind rebel that said your name like it was gold, and Poe thinking of the gorgeous name that belonged to a woman who was benevolent against all odds.

A connection was formed before either of you would realize it. You both assumed you wouldn't meet again.

You were both wrong.

[tessxomarie]

Saving You - Part Six

*Leah starts to write out her feelings. Leah & EZ have a friendly encounter.*

Writing has helped me organize my thoughts this last week.

I have not written about Erik…I told myself it may be good for me to write about the situation, but I also do not want to relive those moments.

My mind has been flooded with the thoughts and questions as to why Angel has been giving me a cold shoulder.

The moment we had when he was stabbed and shot, when he reached for me, that’s all it was – one simple moment. I get the impression he forgot, or he’s playing it off like he forgot.

I checked on him and Coco three days after the incident, the boys stayed at the clubhouse overnight and Shelby checked in on them for a few days and asked if Kendra and I could follow up.

Angel was his usual stubborn asshole self. Few words were spoken, eye contact avoided. No thank yous. Like I said, the moment we share the other night was just that, a moment. Now over a week later, I cannot help but still think back to that moment.

I’m snapped back to reality when Kendra calls me, “Leeeeeee.” She exaggerates.

“Kenzzzzzz.” I mimic.

“How do I have five more hours left?” She whines. Poor girl picked up an extra 12-hour shift today and she’s hating every moment.

“You have rent due at the end of week, that’s why you hate it so much.”

“Being a grown up fucking sucks. Who do I call to cancel this subscription? I’m over it, it’s too expensive.”

I bust out laughing, “If you figure that one out, have them cancel mine too.”

We go back and forth for a few more minutes while she’s on break.

“You’re serious about making dinner tonight? Like I can just come crash on your big comfy couch and you can bring me food?” She asks.

“I’ll even go visit Felipe to make sure I cook you a good meal.” I offer.

“You know, if EZ and I never get serious, this whole idea of us becoming a domestic lesbian couple becomes more appealing by the day.”

“Hoes before Bros.” I reply.

“Preach, sista. Okay I gotta go, I’ll text you when I leave here. See you later – love you-bye.” Kendra says as she hangs up the phone.

I finally get myself off the couch and I make my way to Felipe’s shop.

“Hola Felipe!” I say as I enter the shop.

“Aleeah, como estas chica?”

“Bien, y soy cansada.” I reply with a laugh, more than likely butchering every single Spanish word.

“My my, your Spanish is improving by the day, sweetheart.” Felipe says to me with a smile as I approach the counter.

“Thank you, I really am trying – you know, in between working in the ER, the clinic and babysitting the bikers.”

Felipe chuckles, “Yeah, I’ve heard my boys have been keeping you busy lately.”

Rather than diving in to details with Felipe, I opt to just stay mum about it. “You’ve heard right, I’m afraid.”

“I’m just thankful that it’s you that is caring for them. I’ve seen how you are with the kids at the clinic, and even people around here – you’re a natural healer Leah.”

That comment makes my heart melt. I’ve been coming into Felipe’s store only the last three months, but he has made me feel like I belong here, that I’m doing something right.

“How’s the pediatric clinic? You’re still over there, right?” He asks, snapping me out of my daze.

“The clinic is great, I primarily work there now, and I’m contingent at the hospital. Kendra and I are on the same schedule yet more times than not, when I’m at the clinic, she’s at the hospital so when we have the chance to work together, we jump on it.” I say with a laugh.

“Kendra, she’s a character. I’m glad you two are friends, and I’m even more glad to know you two are still working in town. This town is better and dare I say, a little bit healthier thanks to you two. That clinic has worked wonders.” Felipe praises some more.

“Working at a clinic like this, it was something I could only imagine. If you would have told me four years ago that I’d be in the field I am now, with a Bachelor’s Degree – I would ask to take a hit of whatever awesome green y’all are smoking.” I say with a laugh.

It’s so true though, after the news of Jax’s passing and having Marcus basically come into my life and act as my forever guardian – I never knew which path I would end up on, or if the thoughts of me going to school and working in the medical field were far fetched.

“Never stop dreaming, Leah; and never sell yourself short – you my dear are way too smart to do that.”

I offer Felipe a warm smile, as I truly am taken aback by his words.

As Felipe is wrapping up my order, I reach into my purse for my cash and just as I pull some out, Felipe starts shaking his head at me.

“Your money still isn’t good here, chica.” He explains as he hands me my order.

I laugh sarcastically with a mix of shock, “Felipe! Come on, here please take this. I have the money, you have to let me pay eventually.” I plead.

As I try to make this deal with Felipe, the front door chimes and in walks EZ.

“EZ, can you believe Aleeah still thinks her money is good here?” Felipe says with a chuckle and grin.

EZ cannot help but laugh along with his Pop.

“I’m glad you find this comical.” I spit with sass.

“I give you credit for being persistent Lee, but the old man is stuck in his ways. Count your blessings, he could be charging you double.” EZ tells me with a curious look, which causes me to snap back at Felipe and quirk a brow.

“I don’t turn down business, but if I don’t like someone’s attitude, you bet your ass I’m charging them extra.” Felipe explains.

“Well I’m glad you like me, Felipe. Thank you again, you really are the best.” I say as he hands me my order.

“I should be the one thanking you, you’re keeping my boys in one piece.”

I shrug my shoulders and look to EZ as he gives me a weak smile.

“I try.” I respond, and then change topics somewhat as I make conversation with EZ.

“Why are you here? Don’t you have like, a run to be on or some other biker shit to do?” I ask poking fun as I playfully punch his arm.

EZ gives Felipe a serious look, which then makes me feel a bit uncomfortable – I get the vibe that EZ doesn’t like telling Felipe club shit.

“Oops, sorry. I should have known better than to ask you about that.” I tell EZ.

Another chime at the door, a middle-aged couple has walked in.

Felipe nods at EZ, and EZ takes me aside.

“Lee, you’re fine. Pops, he knows enough. Anyways, I’m glad I ran into you, I texted you the other day, but you never responded, I just wanted to check in with you.”

“Oh shit, yeah you did text me – I mentally responded.” I laugh, “I think I mentally responded then told Kendra you texted me and then she said that she was going to text you because you didn’t check in on her.” I explain with more laughs.

EZ scratches his head, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that girl.” He says with a smirk.

“Just treat her right, or I’ll stand by my word and make you breath out of your forehead.”  I remind him with a big smile and bat my eyelashes.

EZ laughs it off, “So, what I really wanted to ask you is if you’ve spoken to Angel lately?”

A look of confusion and humor take over my face, but EZ doesn’t find it humorous.

“Oh, that was a serious question?” I ask, I stutter for a moment but collect myself.

“EZ, I don’t even have Angel’s number. It’s always you, Bishop or Coco that contacts me. Plus, why would I need to talk to Angel?”

EZ shakes his head, “I was just wondering, hoping actually that maybe you two have spoken because he’s just been really off since the incident.”

“No shit, he was shot and stabbed – practically ambushed at his girlfriend’s place. That’s a lot to process. Did you guys ever find out who stabbed him?” I ask.

EZ looks over to Felipe, to make sure he’s still busy with the other customers that walked in.

“No, we have no leads. Angel basically wants us to forget it, but Coco isn’t having that. Angel, he’s been around off and on ever since Shelby gave him the okay – Gilly hasn’t been able to keep tabs on him, we all know he and I aren’t on speaking terms. I just want to know he’s somewhere safe, I don’t trust Luisa.”

Another confused look comes over me, “Who the fuck is Luisa?”

EZ must find my expression hilarious as he gets a good chuckle out of that one.

“That’s Adelita’s real name.”

“Umm excuse me? That bitch has been using an Alias and no one felt the need to clue me in?” I say with a slight raised voice, looking around to make sure I’m not causing a scene in this small shop.

“Relax, Lee. That’s an irrelevant fact.”

“Psh, yeah for you maybe. When you find my body missing or chopped up, I think it’s important for you all to give a correct name to the authorities.” I sarcastically say.

“What are you talking about, Leah?”

“You don’t recall my abrasive monologue from that night? I basically dragged her ass through fire. She deserved it though, there’s always been something off about her to me.” I explain as I take a seat at the small table next to where we are standing.

“Ha, yeah. We all were just talking about that actually. The boys were impressed on how you handled that. Especially given her history of what she’s capable of.” EZ says trailing off.

“That ex rebel bitch does not scare me – her trying to play doctor to a stabbing and shooting victim, now that scares me.” I say with a playful wink.

EZ gives another laugh and takes a sip of water that he grabbed from the cooler behind him.

“She means well, she just, I don’t know – I’ve never fully trust her either. I guess I’m just worried about my brother.” He says quietly.

We have a brief moment of silence, and then I see him flex his muscles – now I am inno wayattracted to EZ like this, but the man has veins us nurses drool over.

“EZ, has anyone ever told you your veins are a nurses wet dream?” I ask while touching one of the veins popping out.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh come on, Ezekiel, Kenz hasn’t said that to you? She hasn’t asked if she could practice drawing blood or anything like that?” I continue to ramble as I trace one of his veins.

“Umm you two still need practice?” He asks nervously.

“Always, it’s always good to practice in case you have to drug someone up for long periods of times or when you accidentally give them the wrong dose.” I say wickedly as I stand up from my chair.

“Leah, I mean this in the nicest way – but some days, you straight up terrify me.”

I give EZ a playful sin filled look, “Good.” I respond with a wink.

“I’ll see you in a few days, on the 4th?” I ask as I gather my belongings.

“Yes you will, Kenz will be there too later on but I am sure you already knew that.” He says with a smile.

“You sir are correct. She’s working the afternoon shift, I’m working 7p-7a the night before so once I become a functional member of society that afternoon, I’ll make my way to the clubhouse.”

“I’ll be there all day, I’m on firework duty.”

My face drops, bikers + explosives = Leah never gets a break

“I’ll be safe, Lee.” EZ tries to reassure me by putting both hands on my shoulders and giving them a squeeze.

“Yup, uh-huh, sure.” I say walking towards the door, “I’ll still bring extra supplies just to be safe.” I say tapping his shoulder.

“Adios, Felipe! Thank you very much.” I say as I wave from the doorway.

“Take care Aleeah!” Felipe shouts.

“See you in a few days, Lee.” EZ says with a wave, I remain still at the door with it half open, “Oh yes, it’s going to be a bang.”

[idratherstayslytherin]

Drarry Headcanon (bc I'm a terrible writer and have no time to)

After the war Hermione and Ginny come back to Hogwarts, it's a year after the battle (that's how long it took to rebuild the school and let people grieve)

Harry and Ron found it impossible to come back. They are staying together at Grimmauld Place. Ron decided to help George at WWW. Harry didn't know what to do for a long time He didn't want to be an auror, he've had enough of saving people's lives, being away from home, fighting for his own life. He considers doing Unspeakable or Cursebreaker course. That way he wouldn't have to go fight (well, maybe he would have to sometimes) on the field and he wouldn't have to work behind the desk (assuming that unspeakables aren't working behind the desk ).

He finally decides on going for curse-breaker option, but he has to get at least "Exceeds Expectations" in Potions from his NEWTs (which he can take at the Ministry). As we know he sucks at it so he needs someone to help him.

Draco has been cleaned out (mostly) from the charges after the war. They don't trust him at all, they don't want him anywhere Wizarding World. They put him in the safe house in the muggle France. They have a tracking charm on him so he cannot leave this place. He lives there with his mother. He haven't been outside for almost a year. The Ministry told him that they would consider welcoming him back if could prove that he changed his believes and payed back for his actions during and before the war. As for now they took away his wand and made him look for muggle job.

When the Ministry finds out that Draco is pretty good at potions and Harry needs a tutor they decide that sending Harry to him is an excellent idea. Draco would have to help him if he wants to get his wand and freedom back and Harry could help him with understanding muggles.

Both of them are pissed off as they are not each other's greatest fans. Harry testified for Narcissa and Draco after the war, but he did it just because they both are kind of the reason he is alive ("Dead" , "I can't be sure"). Harry did not think they deserved Azkaban, no matter how angry he was at them, no matter how much he disliked them.

Ministry builds a potions space in Dracos house so they can study there. The few first weeks are weird, Draco and Harry only talk to each other if it's necessary or if they're studying. Draco is a decent teacher, he can explain potions so that Harry can understand and improve. Even if Harry is annoying Draco with his little knowledge on the subject he is impressed with his other magic abilities and knowledge on other things. They start being civil with each other and stop their childish arguments.

One day when Harry is sick of having to eat only take outs for a month he decides to ask Narcissa a permission to cook for them all. It's not like it's his biggest dream, but he wants to eat a good homemade meal, and it's only polite to make three portions. Narcissa agrees and Harry goes out to buy ingredients for curry that he learned bow to make when he lived with Ron. While he's making it Draco enters the kitchen and observes Harry intensely. Not just because he thinks Harry is attractive, but because he is genuinely interested in cooking now that they don't have a house elf. When Harry sees him he stops for a second and then says "you know it's not polite to stare? And do try to be more secretive if you want to look at me.". At this sentence Draco freezes, his cheeks going red,but then Harry burst out laughing "Your face Malfoy! If you could se-see yo-your face right now". He can't stop laughing. Draco just glares at him. "I'm just messing with you, no need to plan my death." Harry says still smiling, but Draco still says nothing until the silence between them becomes awkward. "I'm not planing your death, never did." he says with a serious tone. There is a lot of starring between them. Harry breaks it "so do you want me to show you how to cook, Malfoy, or not?" Draco hesitates but walks over to Harry and Harry walks him through the process of making a perfect curry that is Harry's friends favourite dish. Draco asks a lot of questions and stops Harry at different stages of making a curry paste to observe the changes that are happening. There aren't many to his disappointment. Somewhere in the conversation Harry mentions that he learned cooking when he was living at the Dursleys. He doesn't even know why he's telling Draco Sodding Malfoy about his not so pleasant childhood.

"They used you like a house elf?! Wait, they treated you even better than a house elf. Our house elfs had their own bedroom." Draco raises his voice a little and Harry is weirded out and doesn't know why Malfoy even cares.

They eat their meal quietly and after that Draco asks Harry if he can tell him something more about muggle technology. They go to their study and Harry explains cash machines, toasters, tv, internet and more to him. Harry watches as Draco's scared face turns into fascination. He even smiles a little and Harry decides that genuine smile looks good on Draco Malfoy.

They fall into a routine where they wake up make breakfast together (Harry thought Draco to make simple dishes), they go into potions study, Draco teaches Harry the theory and they make some potions (Harry eventually ends up brewing pretty decent ones, except that time he almost burned down the cauldron and Draco stopped speaking with him for a day (HE NEVER FUCKING LISTENS TO DRACO SO HOW.CAN HW EXPECT NOT TO FAIL MISERABLY?!) ); they eat lunch, have some time apart, Harry eventually firecalls Hermione and Ginny asking them how they're doing, Hermione leaves Ginny alone with Harry so they can have some alone time. Harry loves her, loves her just the way she is, he misses her a lot. They talk about school, they talk about them and exchange sweet nothings. Harry can't stop but wonder how will their future look like when she comes back home. Will they get married? Should he purpose to her? Will they have a lot of children? When will they live? He also misses having a closure with her, kissing her and doing more than that. When their firecall is over he is left with with his hand and a bulge in his pants (It's only because he haven't had any sexual interactions with his gf and she decided to take of her t-shirt which allowed him to see her breasts, AND SHE WHISPERED TO HIM THAT SHE MISSED HIM AND HIS TOUCH. How could he not be affected by that?!).

Months pass and Harry and Draco became a good company to each other. They help each other out. By now Draco knows mire about muggles that any other pure blood wizard, is less scared of them and even started reading fiction, history and science books. He usually sits in his chair in his room, with a cup of tea, and devours all the knowledge. Harry tries to improve at potions by sneaking out to the study in the middle of the night when he can't sleep/doesn't want to fall asleep. He even tried to make a dreamless sleep,but failed a few times.

One night Draco hears Harry's screaming, it's heart wrenching. They are home alone as Narcissa was send back to the manor on her own request. Draco gets up and takes Dreamless Sleep out of his cupboard. He enters Harry's temporary bedroom and shakes his arm. "Potter. Potter, WAKE UP!" He raises his voice. He knows if it was him he would have wanted to be woken up. Harry wakes up and can't stop hyperventilating. Draco doesn't really know what to do, he never took care of anyone but his mother, and he isn't really good with feelings/hard stuff. He and Harry never talk about their past. It's their silent agreement. Draco does sits on the bed and says in a low vice "It's just a dream. It's just a dream, Potter." He tries not to look Harry in the eyes, but he decides that if he wants to make this boy stop doing what he's doing then he has to do more. He looks Harry in the eyes. "Breath, Potter. Take a deep breath and then exhale." He does exactly what his mother did when he was in that situation. He doesn't want to step any boundaries, so he doesn't touch Harry's hand. "Do it with me." Draco says when Harry doesn't seem to feel any better. He can't faint! "Take a deep breath" They both do. They exhale. They do it few more times until Harry's breathing becomes less shaky and stabilize. They look at each other in silence. Draco looks down, but pulls out the phial and gives it to Harry. "Drink this." He gets out of bed and begins to leave. "Thanks" Harry whispers.

The next day Harry wakes up at 1am. He feels a lot better after the potion he took at night. Still he feels terribly sad. It happens sometimes. There are times he doesn't want to leave the bed and just doesn't see the point of doing anything. Sometimes he wishes he never came back to life. He gets up even though he would rather disappear, but he feels like he has to at least tell Draco that he doesn't feel like studying today. He looks for Draco everywhere, but can't find him. Finally he finds him in the kitchen in front of the stove cooking something. It's oatmeal. "Hi" Harry says when Draco turns around. "Hey." There again is silence. "You look like shit." Draco informs Harry. "I'm making you food. Sit". And Harry is like WHAT?! Draco Malfoy is making me food?! What kind of universe that is?! "What?" Harry says. And Draco just rolls his eyes. "Can't you ever do just one thing you're asked for? Are you that much of a rebel?". His voice is surprisingly soft and Harry is like DID HE JUST SIMLE AND SAID SOMETHING (that should probably make him sneer at him) IN A SOFT VOICE?! WHO IS THIS MAN AND WHAT DID HE DO WITH DRACO MALFOY?

Draco just looks at him then says "You've began to develop this annoying habit of looking at me with your mouth open. Please, stop. " although he doesn't want Harry to stop. He looks at Harry when he thinks he's not looking and dreams about touching his hair.

Harry goes red and mumbles some nonsense as a response. They sit together at the table and Draco handles Harry the oatmeal and they eat in silence. "We don't have to study today'" Draco says when the sip their drinks (Harry - coffee, Draco - tea). They have free afternoon.

Harry looks at Draco while he's drinking his tea and first thing that comes to his mind is scary he is so damn beautiful. His hart begins to pound a little faster at the realisation of what he just thought. He doesn't really know where did that came from and what the fuck does that mean, so he lowers his head. The next thing he notices is how Draco looks out of the window with a sad expression on his face. Oh, he must be missing outdoors Harry thinks. After Draco has been nothing but nice and helpful Harry wants to make it up for him. He firecalls the Ministry and asks them a permission to let Draco go out. They argue with him and tell him that Draco might run away, that he might hurt Harry, but Harry is having none of it. "He's been nothing, but amazing tutor, nice and helpful this past weeks. And how do you even imagine him being able to do anything without his want, hm? I trust him and if you trust me you'll show me the charm that will let him get out. I'm sick of sitting in the house as well, can't imagine what that must have been for him." They give harry the charm and show him how to perform it (just because he is their hero).

When Harry tells Draco that their going out Draco can't help, but smile widely. Harry wants to take a picture of this moment for some odd reason. It scares him what his thoughts are becoming.

"There is a beach an 1,5 away from here." Draco says. "Are you suggesting we go there?" Harry answers. "I thought that was obvious." Draco smirks.

They end up going to the beach. Draco smiles the first moment they step out of the house. He closes his eyes and breaths in fresh air. He looks gorgeous Harry thinks where Draco's hair is flying on the wind. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! He screams in his mind. They walk in the silence until Draco says "Thanks." a moment of silence. "For taking me out" Harry instantly looks at him. "And everything. Testifying for me even though you didn't have to. Testifying for my mother. Saving my life in that-in that room." He says this in a honest, quiet voice while looking at Harry. Harry doesn't know what to say and is startled. He retrieves his voice after a longer minute. "I did what I thought had to be done. And... I don't think you deserved Azkaban." He can't believe what he's saying, but it's true. He just didn't think he would confess this to Malfoy. "Well, you also saved me at the Manor." He says after that. "I've should have done more. I was a coward. I still am. I should have helped." Draco almost whispers as he can't look at Harry. His eyes vegan to water. "I deserved all that they planned for me at my trial. You should have left me there, but I guess you have saving people's lives problem, even if you hate them." Harry stays quiet, but has this weird feeling that he should say that Draco is telling him a lot of bullshit. He knows some of it is true, he does have saving people problem and Draco wasn't definitely brave and he should have done more in the battle if he wasn't sure what side he was on. He could have done more, but he didn't.

They walk together in the silence until they reach the beach. They were exhausted from walking. But the view is breathtaking. They got out of the house at 5pm so now sun is begging to go down and the sky is lovely colour of yellow, orange and pink. They can feel ocean breeze and hear the sound of it. It's calming. They sit down on the blankets they took with them and stare at the sky.

"I miss Sirius." Harry says without thinking much of it. He can't take the words back. "Your godfather?" Draco asks, digging the piece wood he found into the ground. "Yeah." Harry sighs. "He and Remus were the only people who felt like I still had a piece of my parents with me." Harry confesses, THE HELL WITH IT, I DON'T HAVE ANYONE TO TALK TO BESIDES HIM. Harry tells Draco about Sirius and how it went down in 3rd year, he tells him how mad it was when they found out Ron's rat was Peter Pettigrew, he tells him the story about his parents and the marauders. Draco interrupts him with few questions only if needed, he listens to Harry intensely. "I'm sorry they're not around anymore." Draco says, and studying his expressions, Harry knows he means it. Harry wants to cry, but he can't cry infront of Malfoy. He is partially angry at Draco, well actually his father for being the reason Sirius is dead, and if Draco haven't let Death Eathers into Hogwarts Remus and Tonks would still live. He pushes that away for now. He considers asking Draco about his reasons, his story, but on the other hand he knows nothing will serve as an excuse.

They lay on the ground for quite some time, but then Harry says "I'm going swimming" and he gets up. "Are you crazy? The water is probably - 10°C" Draco sits up. "Yeah, -50°C" says Harry sarcastically rolling his eyes. He takes off his shirt and walks down to the ocean. Draco is going crazy in his head, SHIRTLESS HARRY GOING SWIMMING AND OH MERLIN THOSE MUSCLES AND OH MERLIN I MIGHT FAINT. "It's dark and you could drown. Come on we can come back tomorrow." Draco almost beggs. "If you're so worried for me then come with me" Harry snorts and laughs. "You're not making any good impression on me, Potter. Come back here, prat." Harry keeps laughing and he steps into the water. It's neither warm neither cold so he takes some of it in his hands and rubs it all over his body. Draco would come quicker to get him, but he can't stop staring. When he does come near Harry, Harry is already down his knees in the water. "If you want to babysit me then you better take off your shirt and come rescue me if I drown" Harry is weirdly in a good mood. He is now full body in the ocean. Draco frowns at him. "You're an idiot." He says and stays on the sand with his arms crossed.

Harry thinks it would be funny if he faked drowning. Would Malfoy cone to his rescue? He decides to test it. He preforms what he thinks is a good acting and says rapidly "Icantfeelmylegs. I can't move, shit!" He fakes scared expression and looks at Malfoy who is already runing to him into the water.

When Draco is beside him and holds him around his waist he starts laughing historically. He haven't laughed that hard since he can remember. "And you told me I have a pro-pro-" he leans on Dracos shoulder. "Saving lives problem." Draco lets go of Harrys waist and splashes him with the water and sneers " You bastard! I thought you were really drowning. You're such an imbecile! What if we both lost our footing, have you thought of that?!" he screams, but it's not in fury. Harry splashes him back and they begin splasing each other, swimming away to save their life. They both begin laughing. Finally when they're near the beach Harry grabs Draco by the waist. "Scared?" Harry knows exactly what he's doing. "You wish." Draco replies and they chase each other to their blankets. They ends up on top of each other, lying there on the sand. Draco is the one on top and he holds Harrys hands behind his head. "Are you feeling defeated, Potter? Did I just defeat the great Harry Potter?" Harry wraps his legs around Dracos hips so he can take a control. Now Harry's on top. "As if I'd let you." They stare at each other and the intensity of the tension between them rises. Suddenly Harry can't help, but look at Dracos chest, it's covered in a shirt that's sticking to his body, but Harry can see how lean and attractive his body is. "Potter." Draco says clearing his throat uncomfortably. As he does that Harry immediately knows, or rather can feel what caused that reaction from Draco. He was an erection. SHIT! He thinks and stands up as fast as he can. "I'm sorry. I just-" Harrys heart speeds up. "STOP." Draco stops him. "Don't. It's a normal reaction. We're both easy simulated, as are boys our age. You've been away from your...um girlfriend, I suppose, and you, well..." Draco doesn't end the sentence. It's uncomfortable. "Lets go home." He says as he picks up their stuff. "Or do you want me to go and you'll follow me after sometime?" Harry almost squeaks at Dracos proposition and what he actually is suggesting that Harry does.

"It's a- I-I think- I think I'm fine." Harry says, but Draco gives him disbelieving looks. "For Merlins sake, just stay here, think of your lovely girlfriend and you'll meet me at the house. You can't possibly get lost, not with a wand." He is irritated. "You're wet and you might catch a cold." Harry says, feeling like he really needs to be left alone right now. "So cast a drying charm on me, will you?" Draco glares at him, his face going blank. So Harry does and Draco goes home.

But when Harry is left alone all his thoughts are of Draco, his smile, his pale skin,shining grey eyes that turn silver when he is excited over something when they're studying; his lean body and how Draco felt when their chest , then later hips, were so close; how all Harry wanted to do was drag his fingers down Dracos hair and how he wanted to know more about him. He doesn't think of Ginny. But he does feel guilty and weird about it.

Next days are spent on studying, talking about muggle stuff, Draco telling Harry what he discovered or got to know from the books he've read, they chat, but none of them mentions the night on the beach.

That doesn't help,because with every day Harry gets more and more attracted to Draco. Not just by his looks, but his personality and its even scarier. Draco has changed a lot during a year, he is clever, cunning, empathetic, passionate, talented, assertive, demanding, has the same sense of humour as Harry and can easily make Harry laugh. Harry thinks that he could actually be friends with him. But he also wants to touch him again. This is crazy. Harry you've gone mad over a boy.A BOY. AND EVEN WORSE A MALFOY.

Harry is done with his potions study and Draco says that he has improved and better pass his NEWTs well. They both decide to go on the beach one more time before Christmas and Harrys exam. They go swimming and spend the days eating, laughing, "fighting", talking about Quidditch and sharing some childhood and Hogwarts stories. Turns out Draco wasn't a complete sociopath when he was a kid. He was quite sympathetic, his parents fucked everything up.

When they are laying on their blankets and staring at the sky Draco began to point out different constellations, and when he pointed at "his" meaning "dragon one" he just smirked at Harry as if this was his proudest moment. They somehow go back to the war talk and Draco explains that all he ever wanted to to in life is to make his father happy, he wanted to make him proud. He believed every word his father said,but after the sixth year began he knew his parents views were wrong and he slowly stopped believing what they thought him about muggles, pure bloods and muggle borns. He didn't want to kill Dumbledore,but he was given the mission that would make his father proud, that would clear out his family name to Voldemort and would keep his parents alive. He said that at this point he was only fighting for his parents life. He told Harry how awful living with Voldemort was, how a awful his "mission" was and how much he regretted it. Tears were rolling down his face when he got to the part when Death Eathers entered Hogwarts because of him and so many people died because of him and how he wish he could take this back. He confessed to Harry that when he saw him at Malfoy Manor he wanted to take his hand and apparate him somewhere else, somewhere away from there, but was a dumb coward who made all the wrong choices in his life.

Harry was listening to him, sometimes losing his breath, feeling bad for him, trying to understand the boy infront of him. It broke him when Draco said he was being tortured by Voldemort whenever Dracos father failed him or whenever there was no prisoners. After Dracos story was over Harry put his arms around him and brought him closer. They stayed like that for a moment and when they pulled back Draco said "Don't feel sorry for me, I only told you that,because I needed to you shared so much with me in those past months it felt only fair to give you my truth. I know any of this is not an excuse for all my actions. I deserve to be hated and punished, but I want to change and my mind healer said it's what matters the most." Harry believes him and he thinks he could forgive Draco all he have done after he apologized to him for their time at school (and Harry did apologize back). Though it would be awesome if Draco could face Ron and Hermione and make a sincere apology to them both.

They ended up sleeping on the beach beside each other, but when Harry woke up his body was pressed to Dracos and he had his arm around Dracos waist. It was his first dreamless night without needing to take a potion. Harry got up and wrote a letter to Draco saying his goodbyes, but also telling him what he could not say in person. He assured him that he'll figure something out so Draco could come back to Wizarding World and then they can meet up and be friends. He thanked him for the teaching and said he would message him. He put the letter in the basket they brought. He took one last glance at Draco and lightly kissed his cheek, he could not hold himself as not to do so, and left.

P.S.: I think I might continue this, but idk if you guys like it.

[dejaaalm]

Interracial Marriages

I feel like writing right now. I normally would have these kind of thoughts reflected and drafted out first before posting but I feel like writing freely and letting my thoughts flow through at this moment. 

A few weeks ago, I was on Facebook looking around and somehow I landed on a video of a Hmong pastor speaking about being rooted in having values, a vision, and a belief system. Having these things in your life will teach your children how to be good people or Christians. I thought the message was good and on point; I really liked a lot of the motivational things he said. But there was one thing he said that left a really bad taste in my mouth. He said that one (Hmong person) should never think that their soul mate is somewhere among the White people, nor would a black person think that their soul mate is among the Hmong people. In a nutshell, what he was saying is that we need to know our parents' values and incorporate those values into our own which is to say that we should not be in an interracial marriage or relationship. I have nothing against him or what he said. My only concern is that as a pastor, you have the platform and authority to teach, influence, and lead others. With that kind of statement, it creates a ripple effect and impacts the way people view those who are in interracial marriages. I was actually quite sadden by the comment. In case you didn’t know, I married a White guy. Does that mean I devalued my parents' values and my own culture? Or that I am lesser than those who decided to marry their own kind?

He said that when he was determining what his values were, he looked to see if they are rooted in scriptures. It made me ponder, does the Bible really prohibit interracial marriages? I've read many times about being unequally yoked but this is not the same thing. Being unequally yoked has nothing to do with race but more so to do with faith. The apostle Paul wrote "Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers." (2nd Corinthians 6:14) Moses was a Hebrew and he married a Cushite woman. In Numbers 12:1-15, Aaron and Miriam were punished for criticizing Moses' interracial marriage. There are also other stories in the Bible about Godly men and women who were in interracial marriages.

My parents have always wanted my siblings and me to marry a Hmong spouse. My older brothers married Hmong women. My older sister married a White guy. I married a White guy. My younger sister, Mk, married a Hmong guy, and now my baby sister is engaged to her African American fiancé.

My dad, the leader of our household, always said to us "My heart desires for you to marry a Hmong person. I cannot stop you from making your decision, but I want you to marry someone you really love and who can love and take good care of you. I do not want you to feel sad that your dad did not stop you from marrying your spouse." My dad's view on interracial marriages is that if there was ever an issue, it will be hard for him to intercede because of the language and cultural barrier. Hmong culture is a collective culture. We do things together and when things go south, we try to find a resolution together. It is not that he hates other cultures but more that he is afraid he cannot help us if our marriage is failing.

My mom, the caretaker of our household, has a much different view than my dad. She is succumb to saving face. Hmong culture places a high value on having a good face, good reputation, good fame, and good everything. Having your child marry someone who is not Hmong is a sign of disgrace. It means you did not do your due diligence of parenting correctly because your child has rebelled against you and the Hmong cultural values. Her view is "everyone will look at me and ask why my kids don't love me." Hmong can be very blunt and hurtful, but they'll say that their words are words of encouragement. When Scott came to my parents' house to pay the bride price, my aunt said to my mom (in front on me), "Tias neej no ces ntshai koj yuav tsis tau txoj hmoov zoo tau ib tig vauv Hmoog. Pab nrog koj tu siab niam hlob." (Translation: In this life, you will probably not have the good fortune of having a Hmong son-in-law. I feel sorry/sad for you.) Supposedly, her saying that was supposed to guilt me into changing my mind.

I feel sad that I have to even write this. I have to get this off my chest because it is heavy. Never once in my life did I ever think that I wanted to be a disgrace to my parents, or purposely rebel against them because I don't love them, or bring humiliation to them. I love my parents. Everything I've ever done or continue to do is to make them proud of me, to succeed for them, to show them how much I appreciate them, and that their sacrifices and survival for all of us was not done in vain.

It's not that I'm not attracted to Hmong guys. I am. In fact, I dated a Hmong guy for 5 years all throughout high school. I was adamant he was the one for me. Of course, the man above had different plans for me. I love my Hmong culture. I value that we are a strong and resilient minority group. I love that we value family, education, and having a good job. I love that we care about our elders, preserving our cultural practices such as the bride price and wearing Hmong clothes during the new year time, and our unique language. What I don't love is this! This saving face crap.

I had the wonderful opportunity to teach people at my workplace about my culture. I spent countless hours reading, researching, observing, and putting a professional presentation together. One of the biggest things I learned is that you can not mix culture and religion together. Sometimes, it seems as though religion drives culture and at other times culture drives religion. The biggest difference is that culture is always changing whereas religion does not. Secondly, culture is about a group of people’s social heritage and religion is associated with God, a god, or higher being. A lot of our Hmong churches with older generation members (Baby Boomers and Generation X groups), has a tendency to mix cultural values and beliefs with what is biblical. Marrying someone who is Hmong is NOT a biblical or Christianity thing. That is a Hmong cultural value. Although, as I mentioned above, culture tends to change. Is it really a cultural value or an individual value? Marrying someone who is NOT a Christian is not a cultural thing, that is a biblical thing.

Here’s another perspective, a Somalian can be a Muslim. Is a Muslim a Somalian? No. A Hmong person who marries a Hmong person can have good values. Is it a good value to marry a Hmong person? Well, that depends on what YOU as an individual believe in. Marrying a Hmong person is not something that I value or place a high regard on. I value marrying someone I am attracted to and who loves me and my family. 

Back to what I said earlier, though, to be a minister and say that kind of bold statement is quite an incorrect thing. It is no wonder why people like my mom would feel ashamed or belittled. I’m not trying to bash on anyone or offend anyone. I just wanted to express how this ripple effect affects people like my mom. I think it’s important that everyone has their own individual values, but don’t try to promote your own personal values as a propaganda to say that it is from the bible. You like grapes. I hate grapes. You might think drinking alcohol is a sin, but I might think drinking alcohol leads to uncontrollable drunkenness that can lead to sin and not the act itself. 

If I lived in a society where all men were Hmong, my chances of marrying a Hmong man is 100%. Here in America, we are exposed to hundreds of diverse cultures. What were the chances of me ever meeting my husband? 1 out of millions. My husband loves me and I love him. We have two beautiful children together. I’m pretty sure the only person who is responsible for me meeting and falling in love with my husband is God. I believe and live by this Bible verse every day: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11) After all, God didn’t just create Hmong. He created all of us and we were all created in His image.

[reynesofcastamere]

People Try To Break

(A/N:All right, so it’s been...a WHILE since I last wrote fanfiction, much less published it. *cracks fingers* However Season 4 hit me with Too Many Damned Sad Feelings for these two characters and I have to get them out somehow. In collected one-shot ‘what if?’ scenario form. Thanks to remi-bw for calculating the Beast Island timeline on my previous post. WARNINGS: Violence, brainwashing, character death, Horde Prime, chronic illness and injury. Unbeta’d. )

(BAD END I)

Everything is in ashes. But Hordak will have this: the satisfaction of crushing his enemy’s skull beneath-A blast of pain, accompanied by acrid smoke and a BANG! that makes his ears ring. The makeshift club is torn from his grip, glowing eyes already seeking out the source of this intrusion- who dares, he will grind them into dust for...

Lord Hordak, Supreme Leader of the Horde, former right hand of the Emperor of the Known Universe does not even register the child who shot him, transfixed by the mass of writhing violet swarming out of the pipe. He cannot breathe, even as a form emerges from beneath all that hair and oh, he cannot see her face from this distance but he knows it with every fibre of his being- “Entrapta?” A whisper, uncertain and weak, legs moving of their own volition.

The light around him turns green after three steps, arresting his forward motion. Horde Prime is here at last. Yet he feels...terror. Please. Not now. I have to speak to her, she needs to know- “ENTRAPTA!” A hand reaches out uselessly, desperately in her direction, as if hoping against all logic and sense to close the gap between them. Too late. Darkness and Prime’s technology take him under.

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(BAD END II)

Hordak had dreamed of standing before his brother with pride -all of this, I have accomplished in your name- next to the woman whose brilliance had made it possible. Instead he is damaged, dirty and on his knees while Entrapta lies unconscious among the rubble that was transported with them. He explains everything, but there is no flicker of gratitude or admiration on his Emperor’s face. Horde Prime seems...mildly amused, at best. At least until Hordak, in his growing anxiety to prove his worth, fails. The temperature in the room has not changed, and yet his insides are frozen.

Prime steps down from his throne to rifle through Hordak’s memories like a box of useless scrap. It feels...wrong in a way that it should not. He is a clone, the rightful property of the Emperor. Nothing can -or should- be hidden from His gaze. And yet there are moments flashing through his head that some part of him does not want Horde Prime to see. Because they are...special. “-There was even a time you wished I would not come for you. Is that not so?”

He protests in vain even as his Creator moves to stand over Entrapta’s prone form, lifting her up by the scruff of her neck. Stunned into silence, Hordak watches his brother examine the Etherian scientist as he once had-A backwater primitive with some shred of actual intelligence.

“Such an extraordinary mind... For a lesser species. A pity it cannot be utilized in service of my Empire.”

“What?” Surely he must have misheard. Then a smirk that can only be described as cruel quirks Prime’s lips and dread is a jagged stone in the pit of his stomach. “Poor little brother, so easily led astray. You truly thought that you served My will, that I would allow your pet to spread heresy. That you have even given yourself a name proves you have become an abomination.” His Emperor is no longer composed or pretending at benevolence, radiating sheer rage at the presumptive defect before Him. “You must be reborn.” His hand closes around  Entrapta’s throat.

Hordak’s body does not-cannot- obey his will, despite how fast his heart is racing. He pleads, begs, grovels like the worthless creature he is, all for the wretched hope of saving her. The one being in the entire universe who truly made him...complete. The sound her neck makes when it snaps is deafening in his ears, her killer dropping her lifeless body to the floor seconds later.

An anguished howl rips through the air as the monster approaches once more. Unable to lash out, blinded by hatred and tears, he does not even realize what is happening. There is pain and then...Nothingness.

Three days later, clone HK-001 still exhibits near-constant ocular discharge despite successful reconditioning. No cause is determined, and the Empire does not waste resources on defects. HK-001′s termination is carried out efficiently, while the conquest of Etheria begins in earnest. A small creature with no voice of its’ own looks up at the stars and the massive fleet that nearly blots them out, clutching an engraved crystal in its’ hands. Waiting.

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(GOOD END I)

Horde Prime is dead.

Princess Entrapta of Dryl claims his body, empire, and army by right of conquest. There isn’t much left of the first by the time she finishes experimenting with it, but the treasure trove of data provided is invaluable to the field of xenobiology. And to the new Empress’s Consort. Who loves her very much and made that perfectly clear once they’d gotten past the post-fight sex in the throne room and the temporary awkwardness that followed.

She’s got fleets full of new and fascinating technology, infinite galaxies to explore, masses of clones to study; (Watching them adjust to the idea of individuality is fascinating, there’s already an entire ship’s crew who started wearing maroon after spending an afternoon with Scorpia.) Her Lab Partner is right there with her, working on projects, trading theories and ideas even while lying in bed with Imp curled up in her hair and Emily in sleep mode in the corner.

Some of her friends don’t quite...understand her choices, but they also don’t have the power or authority to stop her anymore. That they’re still her friends after a regicide means a lot, even if the bi-monthly Princess Meetings involve a lot of dirty looks being thrown in Hordak’s direction. Which he ignores. Pointedly. Without breaking anything, even! Which she definitely needs to check off on her progress list for Social Experiment 51-B. Life, in the simplest possible terms, is ‘good’. Entrapta intends to keep it that way. Besides, a being who couldn’t accept that imperfections and accidents were what allowed scientific progress and the driving principles of the universe to move forward was far better off as a test subject.

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(GOOD END II)

Hordak freezes at the sight of the apparent ‘ghost’ for only a moment before rage draws him back into its’ black, razor-edged pit. The rebel archer miscalculates and winds up dangling by his neck in a choking grip. “You DARE to use that shapeshifter’s tricks?” He snarls, eyes practically emitting heat from sheer force of will alone. “What -hgk- do you-?”

“Do not LIE to me. Entrapta is dead.” They will regret this decision, for he will wring out their apologies along with their screams for mercy. But first. “And you are delaying my extermination of her murderer.” Catra will pay. For every action she had done, every lie told, every second of time she wasted while Entrapta was sent and abandoned to die on Beast Island. (It has been five Etherian seven-day units of time. No sentient being could have survived that long.) His grasp is suddenly surrendered when Double Trouble uses the existing rope-line and their imitation prehensile hair to swing down and tackle him to the ground. The attempts he makes at ripping the face off of this pretender end with his wrists bound above his head, growling in impotent fury.

“Hordak! I found the First Ones’ database at the centre of Beast Island! It’s a technological wonder-pure information buried in the midst of a sentient hazardous waste disposal site that slowly paralyzes and consumes any being exposed to it.” A pause for breath is accompanied by a tiny shudder that most people...probably wouldn’t notice. “Anyway, Bow and Adora showed up in a spaceship-I totally need to study it properly later- and I rescued them even though they were supposed to be rescuing me, there was this weird guy who ate bugs and oh! I made a new friend. She’s really great and didn’t have any problems with me sitting in her mouth.” Entrapta tilts her head at him, looking mildly confused and then hesitant. “You...really didn’t abandon me?” The question is quiet, a complete departure from her energetic explanations. She seems almost scared of what his answer might be, hair releasing his wrists now that he’s stopped struggling.

Hordak is stricken, tears welling in his eyes as he carefully sits up. He didn’t notice the changes in her appearance before, the indications that she couldn’t possibly be the form-changing mercenary. If this is another lie, and he is about to be killed for believing it, then he no longer cares. His fingers slowly, gently caress the hair along her scalp. “No. Never.” He’s never known her to be particularly fond of touching people with any part of her body aside from her hair...Yet they wind up with her arms around his shoulders and his around her waist. “I have been an utter fool.” Hordak murmurs, the upper half of his face resting against her left shoulder. “Believing you were a traitor from the start. Catra is a proven liar, and you...” The words catch in his throat for a moment. He has never done this before. Had neither wanted nor needed to until now. With her. “Entrapta. I need you.” Somehow he gathers the courage to meet her eyes and finds them as moist as his, but she also looks...pleased?

Entrapta sniffles. “I kind of gave up on you while I was imprisoned. Bow offered me some good advice, though.” She smiles, even if it’s a touch shaky. “Hey, we’re both imperfect, right? Just means we need to keep working on it.” She considers the question a success when he laughs softly and smiles at her in turn, their foreheads coming to rest against one another. Hm. His armor is missing the central crystal. She’ll have to ask about that, locate it, and tell him what the writing on it translates to. She loves him too, and he deserves to know it as an absolute proven fact. In time, they’ll rebuild what is broken (The Fright Zone is a mess, for starters.). When nothing arrives to block out the stars, no further attempts to contact Horde Prime are made. They have enough to keep them busy for a very long time. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(A/N: In Bad End II Entrapta is unconscious the whole time because I am a firm believer that she is capable of murdering him in 2.5 seconds. Especially if he has the alien equivalent of a jugular or carotid artery. So originally I was going to add reactions from Bow and Glimmer in Good End II buuuuut this is already decently long and their dialogue would have boiled down to Bow quietly squeeing, Glimmer going WTF?!, Entrapta being cheerfully blunt and Hordak scowling because You’re Interrupting A Moment, Godsdamnit.  Horde Prime accidentally flew into a black hole or something, IDK. One last thing. I’ve never written a neurodivergent character (coded or otherwise), so if I have butchered Entrapta’s character and/or written something that is offensive; I deeply apologize and will look to correct this if provided with constructive criticism.)

[serenephenix]

VLD4 E4

Razzle-dazzle time.

Oh god. That knowing uncle smirk from Coran has got to be the greatest thing ever.

...

But as I’ve feared... I will probably die from second-hand embarrassment.

Oooooooooh nooooooooo. Coran, please, no.

“Allura you’ll be playing Keith!” *Allura makes the face* Oh my god. She’s got the part down perfectly without even trying.

...

I cannot look. But I must. But I can’t. urgh

Helpless? Helpless?! I resent that very notion!

I feel so utterly bad for Shiro. This is a nightmare come true.

I am suffering. I can’t take this. I’m having flashbacks from grade school.

...

Shiro. That was bad. Like, really bad. You didn’t even try.

This is a terrible train wreck and I just can’t look away.

At least one person is having fun.

Oh my gosh... I wasn’t the only one... I feel blessed.

... I had to skip. Too many flashbacks assaulting me.

I get you wanted to put on a good show Coran but this was a badly organized mess. You cannot jump onto people like that with such a project and just expect them to execute it perfectly. Communication is key my dear space uncle!

...

Coran. I’m warning you. Don’t do drugs. Not good for your health or your mustache.

But I love their haggling and bartering. Was already entertaining to watch the first time.

I wonder what happened to the shop keeper to land him in a hospital though?

...

Give Coran and the team a break.

While this is important they really have better stuff to do.

And yeah, I know the coalition events are important but I think my ingrained dislike for these kinds of things is also making this whole issue totally frustrating to watch.

Yeah Lance,agreed! But please don’t be so hard on Coran, he’s really trying and with all the other things he has to take care of I can only imagine how stressful his days have gotten.

-

I find it somewhat disheartening that Coran, in an effort to do better, turns to something that could potentially be hazardeous to his health...

I love how he has so many trinkets, mementos and pictures in his room. The only thing missing is a picture with Allura and the new Paladins.

...

This is every horror story I have ever hated coming true.

Nope! Skipping that one!

....

why didn’t i skip it? i hate myself don’t I?

...

I just shook myself like a dog... That brain bug is doing terrible things to my favorite Altean and I want it gone.

My head is resting on the table and I am wheezing. I’m mean it’s funny but at the same time I just cannot deal with all that parade and pomp stuff....

...

He’s got Hunk and Lance hooked. Noooooooooooooooooooo.

Shiro. Why? :’)

-

Okay, so here we are. Space opera take 2.

Let’s see how it goes.

...

*dying on the floor as Coran expands on all the dramatics for the show*

I think Keith left because he had a prophetic dream where he saw this and decided to book right out of there before he could be roped into this insanity.

There is no other explanation needed.

On that same note: where did Matt disappear to? Is he off with some rebel friends?

...

The stringy aliens have names. I don’t know what to think of it though. It’s kind of adorable but utterly ridiculous?

I just spat out my cornflakes. ON ICE.

This is gonna be so good.

... Okay, still can’t watch. So onto the aftermath.

...

We’ve been over that. Lance, what happened to ninja sharpshooter? That’s way cooler....

Yes Allura. I feel you.

...

That... I have no words. How could this be okayed by any of the showmakers? Wow. I’m honestly disappointed.

That really wasn’t okay - not from Coran as a character and not from the executives running VLD.

...

Poor Pidge :(

I get you.

...

Poor Hunk :(

...

Wow. Paladin training once again paying off.I wish I could fully enjoy this... but not really. Not feeling it.

On another note... I wish I knew what Red is thinking.

-

Yeah, kids speak up! You have a right to! Coran might be the adult of the group but that should not stop you from drawing clear lines!

-

Coran the bug is not doing you any good. Get rid of it.

...

Lance, if only you knew how many followers you have on the internet...

-

Coran. This is a bad idea. Stop it now.

Kids, please, never do drugs. This is what happens when you do.

-

The broadcast is actually fun.

It’s funny that they won Varkon over.

I really like the music in this scene.

They’ve really learned from when they started this show gig. But Lance is, without a doubt, in his element here.

...

I love how the Bi-Boh is just rolling with this.

...

Finally! Get out brain bug! Give me back my gorgeous man!

Bi-Boh... you will go down in history as the alien that gave me back my caring space uncle. Thank you :’D

...

Allura is a beautiful and talented woman. I didn’t know they had an equivalent to soccer on Altea!

-

Good. That storms been weathered.

Coran! Be nice to your savior!

[feynites]

#I love their interactions to bits and their fluffier moments are amazing#but so often there's an underlying heartbreak about them too#the difficult paths that shaped them into the people that they are#but also the hardships (and sometimes tragedies) awaiting them#sometimes it feels like I'm doing escapism of escapism#if that makes sense XD#with all the au fanart for LG#trying to imagine what they might have in happier moments#in worlds that might treat them more gently#in futures that hold more hope than darkness for them#and I just gave myself a sad over gratuitous art for no reason :x#(poor thenvunin barely-clad as usual :3)#but sometimes difficult doesn't mean impossible#because these dorks aren't just passively sitting back either#they're /trying/ and sometimes that works out#and all the aus you've written for them are just <3<3 (@pyrrhy)

Sometimes - when he lets himself - Thenvunin wonders what would really make him happy in his life.

He knows what is supposed to make him happy, of course. A life of good works and atonement. There are days when he uncharitably thinks that all mages are born with a debt they never asked for; like inheriting some unmet ancestor’s bills. From the first moment magic flew from his fingertips, he was destined to spend the rest of his life paying for it, paying for the danger of it, and the power of it, and the ancient history tied to it.

He is supposed to be happy, in his payments. Humble and thoughtful and willing to make all needed sacrifices, to be one of the good mages. And sometimes, he is. He can recollect a feeling of relief that would rush through him, every time his sacrifices were rewarded, every time it was affirmed that he was doing well at offering the universe his apologies.

He can recollect it.

But, more and more, he finds, it is becoming less likely that he will actually feel it. And some part of him is beginning to wonder if that was ever really ‘happiness’, or simply the brief flare of hope that maybe, some day, if he did things precisely right...

Maybe he would actually pay his debts, before he died.

Maybe he would no longer have to constantly prove himself, and could simply be.

But whether it was happiness or not, Thenvunin finds in his time with the Inquisition, that it becomes harder to feel. That instead of relief, something else tends to rise up in him every time he is called upon to pay for his magic. Something steely, and bitter, and increasingly resentful. It doesn’t really speak with Uthvir’s voice, but it listens to Uthvir. This part of him that would only ever come out, in the past, when he had a sword in his hand and an enemy in front of him... it gets bigger. Stronger. Louder.

Thenvunin would be afraid that it might steal all of his happiness.

Except, he realizes, when he leaves Markham for the second time - when Uthvir comes and gets him, and tells him they’re rescuing him - that he is happy. Or rather, he can be happy, in ways that sometimes conflict with him, but also seem much stronger than what he thought happiness was. He finds something that he hadn’t even realized he’d misplaced; something left behind in the days before his Harrowing. Before Seth and the guard and the rebellion. He is not really sure if more of the blame rests with Uthvir or the Inquisition but he knows he’s changed. That he can feel giddy, and excited, and confined, and strong in ways that he shouldn’t. For reasons that he shouldn’t.

That he can want things he’s been told not to, and that even realizing that, even admitting it, doesn’t seem to carry the dire consequences he somehow always feared.

What would really make him happy?

Is it wandering? Is it fighting? Is it love? Is it freedom?

Can it last?

That’s the sticking point, he supposes. Most any mage can taste freedom, but usually only at the cost of death. Any thrill can be obtained, but not all of them can be survived. What kind of end is waiting for him, now? What kind is waiting for Uthvir? If neither of them had been born mages, would it have gone better for them? Or worse? Would Thenvunin have been left to die as an infant? Would Uthvir have ever escaped enslavement?

How many lives might they have led with worse fates in store?

...How many with better?

And what would ‘better’ even look like? Thenvunin wonders. Utopia, maybe. Elvhenan, he might have thought, before he learned that even old fables must be uprooted and destroyed in this life. But if not Elvhenan, then what? Some other idyll, some other place. Free of demons and slavery and death. Or even just less replete with them. Would the two of them have ever had simple lives? Or lives filled with fewer harrowings, at least? Kindly adventures, maybe. Sweet stories. Uncomplicated dreams. A castle in the clouds, higher even than Skyhold, where bad things could only threaten to reach them, but never actually succeed.

He does not realize how thick his throat feels, until he swallows and finds it like sandpaper. His vision blurs a little, and Uthvir stops, and looks over with concern. Their hand rests against his forearm.

“Thenvunin?” they ask. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head.

How can he explain? It sounds so silly. To suddenly start crying, of all things, just because of a daydream. Just because he doesn’t know why they don’t deserve a chance. Why everyone, it seems, is so set upon abandoning them; why people must hate mages, why humans can go about destroying the lives of elves, why Uthvir’s skin has scars but there are magisters who live to ripe old ages and die peacefully in their beds, untouched by justice for their atrocities. Why even the elven gods must be liars and cheats and murderers and creatures of their ilk, why Solas would look the Inquisitor in the eye and declare his intentions to destroy this world.

Their world.

Even the rebel gods forsake them.

Thenvunin shakes his head, again, and then lifts his arms and puts them around Uthvir. He cannot change it. That is the worst part. He is still, after all this time, so powerless to fix things. His shoulders shake and he pulls Uthvir presumptuously close. They do not object, though. Their hands settle onto his back, and they ask him what’s wrong again. They don’t let go, even as Thenvunin just rests his head atop theirs, and weeps for seemingly no reason.

When he finally finds that he can’t anymore, Uthvir rubs a hand in slow circles against his spine.

“We have been travelling much harder than usual,” they say. “I should have realized. Let’s make camp, hmm? Rest a while.”

A much simpler state of affairs than anything which Thenvunin could articulate.

Uthvir gets him moving again. The roads they are traversing are not well-trodden, but they are better than hunters’ trails or smugglers’ paths. Trade routes, Uthvir had said, between villages and more remote homesteads, not-quite-civilized but not really wild, either. They had warned him that slavers were known to pass through the areas, every now and again. Opportunists, mostly, or bounty hunters, following leads on runaways. Debt collectors, too, apparently. Thenvunin had been surprised to learn the fullness of the systems in place, that operated within the machinery of Tevinter’s slave trade.

Somehow he had always envisioned things as a matter of... well, magical force, more than anything. Corrupt mages casting spells that stripped others of their agency. Shackling people to them with blood magic and curses and demons to aid them. He had never really considered that a great deal of paperwork was involved, and truthfully, Dorian had explained things more than Uthvir generally did. He had made it sound almost reasonable, talking about debt and time frames and ‘indentured servitude’. Made it sound almost like the Circle, in fact, and sometimes Uthvir made the Circle sound like slavery, too, in even more unsettling ways.

Thenvunin thinks about debts, and cruelty, and stares at the tip of a scar he can see on the back of Uthvir’s neck, as they find a spot sufficient to their aims of making camp. The sun is still up, and it can’t be all that long past midday. They don’t complain about the daylight they will lose by stopping now, however, merely bid Thenvunin sit and get work on preparing a fire, while they set up their tent.

Thenvunin takes his time - it is hardly urgent, after all - and spends the better part of it watching Uthvir. Watching their hands, as they move, and watching their face, as they frown a little, and send the occasional glance his way. Watching their arms and their back and the way their armour moves with them, the way they walk and the deftness with which they go through familiar motions.

They are very graceful.

Graceful. And gentle. And sometimes not gentle, in ways that... excite him. But do not frighten him, and haven’t for a long time, now. They are cautious - even over-cautious - and playful, and they are beautiful. It strikes him, then, that Uthvir is one of the loveliest people he has ever met. He wonders if this was what the Maker might have felt like, when he heard Andraste’s voice, singing so brightly from such a dark and forsaken place.

“What?” Uthvir asks, and Thenvunin realizes his staring has been quite blatant.

He swallows.

Say it!

Uthvir is always saying such... such things, to him. Poetic things. Flattery, he might call it, except that it works too well. With things as they are, should they not reciprocate? At least somehow?

“You remind me of Andraste!” he blurts.

Uthvir blinks.

Awkward silence descends, and Thenvunin kind of wants to find a rock to hide under. Uthvir’s brow furrows, and they look as though they are backtracking the last few moments in their mind, searching for a missing piece of context.

“...In what sense?” they finally ask him.

Oh, Maker, why did he say anything? Now he has to explain. Or at least try to. He folds his arms, and lifts his chin, except that he cannot get defensive. Uthvir has done nothing wrong, there is no fault in their inquiry, and though Thenvunin dearly wishes that they could simply divine his meaning, it is rather reasonable that they can’t. Under the circumstances.

“Well,” he says, still feeling somewhat wrung out from his tears. He clears his throat. “Well, in the - in the sense of, I was just. I was thinking, and, you know, the Maker heard Andraste’s singing and He fell in love with her. And that is rather like you. Except that you don’t sing, of course. Unless you do, though I haven’t heard it, I don’t think. But, that’s not the point, obviously. Just that... the Maker thought that Andraste was very nice, and... not that I’m comparing myself to the Maker, per se, that would probably be presumptuous, but... I love you.”

Uthvir stares at him.

Thenvunin redirects his gaze onto his unfinished campfire, and attempts to survive the sheer tidal wave of mortification rising up in him. He cannot bring himself to look, when he hears their footsteps coming closer. Not until they settle down beside him. And then he does, and his heart stops at the aching affection in their gaze.

“I do not think I am very much like Andraste,” they tell him. “But, thank you.”

Thenvunin sniffs.

“You have plenty in common with her,” he insists. “She wanted to end slavery and destroy Tevinter too, you know. And back when she was raising her army, very few people shared in her faith, and a lot of her enemies objected to nearly everything about her. But she was clever, and charismatic, and also very good at killing.”

“Ah,” says Uthvir. “I admit, when I consider her, I tend to think more about the end of that story.”

He frowns.

“I would not betray you,” he asserts, before he can think twice about it. “Not like Maferath.”

Uthvir reaches over, and brushes their fingers across the back of his hand.

“An addendum, then,” they decide. “Shall we say I am somewhat like Andraste, but with potentially better taste in husbands?”

“Certainly,” Thenvunin agrees, and then his brain catches up with the implications of that. Potentially better taste in husbands. Not men. Not lovers. Not bedpartners, cohorts, or allies.

Husbands.

Married.

Thenvunin’s heart stops and his tongue ties itself into a knot, and he looks at Uthvir, who only looks levelly back at him for a moment; before their expression softens, and they squeeze his hand. And then stand up, and move away, which seems so wrong that Thenvunin cannot help but reach out and grab their wrist.

Such a comment seems to vague to be a proposal; but too important to deny offhand.

“...You would consider marrying...?” he manages to ask.

Uthvir inclines their head.

“I would prefer to discuss such things when we are not on the road and near to exhausted,” they admit, which does seem reasonable. “But, yes, vhenan. I would.”

They lean down and kiss him, just once, before working their way free of him again, and saying something about having to check and just make certain of some nearby tracks they saw. They don’t leave his sight entirely, but Thenvunin can tell they are conspicuously giving him some space to process things.

The future is such a perilous thing. Happiness seems only so fleeting. All of it rife with the potential for a multitude of disasters. This is not, he thinks, the best of all possibly lives and fates.

But it is his, it is theirs, and if he can share it with them, then...

Then that is more than he could have dreamed.

[romancatholicreflections]

24th September >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflection on Matthew 20:1-16 for Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A: ‘Which is the greatest commandment?’ Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada) Matthew 20:1-16 Jesus said to his disciples: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner going out at daybreak to hire workers for his vineyard. He made an agreement with the workers for one denarius a day, and sent them to his vineyard. Going out at about the third hour he saw others standing idle in the market place and said to them, “You go to my vineyard too and I will give you a fair wage.” So they went. At about the sixth hour and again at about the ninth hour, he went out and did the same. Then at about the eleventh hour he went out and found more men standing round, and he said to them, “Why have you been standing here idle all day?” “Because no one has hired us” they answered. He said to them, “You go into my vineyard too.” In the evening, the owner of the vineyard said to his bailiff, “Call the workers and pay them their wages, starting with the last arrivals and ending with the first.” So those who were hired at about the eleventh hour came forward and received one denarius each. When the first came, they expected to get more, but they too received one denarius each. They took it, but grumbled at the landowner. “The men who came last” they said “have done only one hour, and you have treated them the same as us, though we have done a heavy day’s work in all the heat.” He answered one of them and said, “My friend, I am not being unjust to you; did we not agree on one denarius? Take your earnings and go. I choose to pay the last comer as much as I pay you. Have I no right to do what I like with my own? Why be envious because I am generous?” Thus the last will be first, and the first, last.’ Gospel (USA) Matthew 20:1–16a Are you envious because I am generous? Jesus told his disciples this parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out at dawn to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with them for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. Going out about nine o’clock, the landowner saw others standing idle in the marketplace, and he said to them, ‘You too go into my vineyard, and I will give you what is just.’ So they went off. And he went out again around noon, and around three o’clock, and did likewise. Going out about five o’clock, the landowner found others standing around, and said to them, ‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’ They answered, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You too go into my vineyard.’ When it was evening the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Summon the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and ending with the first.’ When those who had started about five o’clock came, each received the usual daily wage. So when the first came, they thought that they would receive more, but each of them also got the usual wage. And on receiving it they grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last ones worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us, who bore the day’s burden and the heat.’ He said to one of them in reply, ‘My friend, I am not cheating you. Did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what is yours and go. What if I wish to give this last one the same as you? Or am I not free to do as I wish with my own money? Are you envious because I am generous?’ Thus, the last will be first, and the first will be last.” Reflections (2) (i) Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time For most of us, our day to day life can be reasonable predictable. One day is much the same as the day before. We have a certain routine that we tend to keep to. Many of us do not like our routine to be disturbed. However, we also know from experience that the unexpected can suddenly come along and throw our routine up into the air. Some misfortune can strike us or those we love and nothing is ever quite the same again. Or, alternatively, some wonderful news can come to us out of the blue and everything we subsequently do is bathed in a new light. That element of the unexpected is very present in today’s gospel reading. There is something very surprising, even shocking, about the way that the landowner in that story operates. Most employers do not give the equivalent of a day’s wage to somebody who only does an hour’s work. If they did, their business would not last very long. Why would anyone want to work for a day if they were sure of getting a day’s wages for an hour’s work? The story that Jesus tells is decidedly not about the human way of doing things. Rather, in story form, Jesus is giving us a picture of God’s way of doing things, and he is showing us that God’s way of doing things is very different from our way. As the Lord says in today’s first reading, speaking through the prophet Isaiah, ‘my thoughts are not your thoughts; my ways are not your ways’. Because God’s ways are not our ways, we will often find God surprising and even disconcerting, just as listeners to the parable today continue to find the behaviour of the landowner disconcerting. This is the one parable of Jesus that is most likely to get people’s backs up. We feel that an injustice is being done to those who worked all day. Yet, the vineyard owner gave those who worked all day a just wage; he gave them a denarius, which was considered a day’s wages. He was just surprisingly generous to those who, through no fault of their own, could only find an hour’s work in the course of the day. We know from experience that people can surprise us. Some people might surprise us in a negative sense. They do not measure up to our legitimate expectations of them; they disappoint us. Others can surprise us in a positive sense. They far exceed our expectations; they show us that there is more to them than we ever realized. Today’s parable suggests that God will surprise us in that positive sense. God’s goodness is always greater than we realize; God’s generosity will always exceed our expectations. God does not give to us in accordance with what we have earned. God does not put our efforts on one side of the scale and then put an equal amount of favour on the other side of the scale to balance our efforts. God graces us in unexpected and undeserving ways. God gives us the equivalent of a day’s wages for an hour’s work. In the words of the title of a book written by the great spiritual writer, C.S. Lewis, when it comes to God, we can expect to be ‘surprised by joy’. The grace and love of God transcends our human assessments of what is fair and we cannot understand God solely in terms of the principle of fairness. If we stop to think about it, the same is true of our own relationship with others. The love and graciousness that we show to family and friends cannot be understood or evaluated merely in terms of fairness. When we reflect on it, most of the best things in life are unearned; they are simply given. Nature in all its beauty and grandeur is given to us; we have not put it together; it is there to be received. The human experience of being looked upon in love by another is not something we earn. We find ourselves graced by the unexpected gift of someone’s friendship and love. In a similar way, God’s favour, God’s love is given, not earned. We are loved by God, before we do anything, because God is Love, and God does not take back that love, regardless of what we do or fail to do. As it has been said by one writer, ‘God does not work from the arithmetic of the calculator, but from the fullness of God’s own heart’. The gospels, and especially today’s parable, even suggest that God has a slight prejudice in favour of life’s latecomers, those who take a while to get going. We probably all fall into that category in one way or another. In telling that story Jesus may have wanted us all to identify with the workers who started work at the eleventh hour. The parable speaks to us of God’s generosity; it is a story of grace. We are each challenged to reflect something of that indiscriminate goodness and generosity of God in our dealings with one another. The God of surprising generosity can become palpable for others in and through our own way of relating. God’s ways are indeed not our ways, but our ways can become a little more like God’s ways, with the help of the Holy Spirit. And/Or (ii) Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time The parable of Jesus that we have just heard does not seem to make a great deal of sense by the standards of how today’s labour market works. Battles have been fought to ensure that there is a minimum hourly wage. It follows that those who work longer hours should get more pay. Any deviation from that would rightly result in industrial action, at least in most democratic societies. A great deal of negotiation in relation to work conditions has to do with ensuring that people get a just wage that relates to their skills, their hours and their responsibilities. It is because the parable is so much at odds with today’s way of proceeding that people often have a very negative reaction to it. Understandably they consider the employer to have acted very unfairly in giving the same wage to the men who worked for the last hour as to the men who worked from early morning in the heat of the day. People often have a similar reaction to the parable of the prodigal son. The elder son who worked away on the estate complains of being treated less favourably than the rebel who headed off and wasted his resources and came back with his tail between his legs. People tend to sympathize with the elder son, just as they do with those who worked all day in this morning’s parable. The story reflects the conditions of rural Galilee in the time of Jesus. We have men waiting in the village market square hoping that some large landowner will come along and give them a day’s wage so that they can feed their family. The landowner was just to those he hired at the beginning of the day. He agreed to pay them a denarius for their day’s work on his farm, which was the equivalent at the time of a fair day’s wages. When the landowner went out to the village square every three hours in the course of the day he found there were more men waiting around hoping to be given some work, even if it was only a few hours work. Each time the landowner saw men waiting hopefully for work, he took them for the time of the day that was left. At the end of the day, he gave everyone a day’s wages, even those who had worked only a few hours. Perhaps he realized that anything less might not enable them to feed their family for the day. The landlord was just to those who worked all day. He was simply extremely generous to those who had only worked a few hours and in some cases just one hour. A normal landowner would have just given a hour’s wages for an hour’s work, three hours wages for three hours work and so on. However, this was a landowner who broke the mold. In a similar way, the father in the story of the prodigal son broke the mold of the normal father in that culture. In his parables, Jesus draws from the world that he and his contemporaries are familiar with, but so often his parables go beyond what is normal in that world. We somehow sense that this is not business as usual. There is something else going on here, which we find disconcerting because it is out of kilter with what we are used to. The key is to be found in the words with which Jesus begins the parable, ‘the kingdom of heaven is like…’. Jesus is drawing from the reality that everyone was familiar with, but he is really talking about another reality, ‘the kingdom of heaven’. When we hear the term, ‘kingdom of heaven’, we tend to think of heaven, life beyond this earthly life. That is not what is meant here. Jesus is really talking about the reign of God, the way things work in God’s realm, when God’s purposes are coming to pass. That has as much to do with this life as with the next. In this parable, Jesus was trying to give us a little glimpse of the ways of God. Speaking through the prophet Isaiah in our first reading, God declares, ‘my thoughts are not your thoughts, my ways not your ways’. Jesus is suggesting that there is something to the ways of God that seems strange when placed alongside our way of doing things. If the strangeness of God’s ways, as reflected in the behaviour of the landowner, seem disconcerting to us at first, God’s strange ways are ultimately very reassuring for us. The parable suggests that God does not relate to us on the basis of strict justice. God’s favour is not parcelled out on the basis of what we have earned. God is constantly gracing us through his Son in ways that bear no relationship to what we have done, or failed to do. How we hear this parable will to some extent depend on those with whom we identify in the story. If we identify with the men who worked all day we will be tempted to feel resentful at God’s generosity towards those we consider less deserving. However, if we identify with the undeserving ones, those who were called into the field at the end of the day, we can allow ourselves to experience the thrill of divine generosity. Maybe, that is where the parable invites us to place ourselves. We are all undeserving, and, yet, God continues to grace us in and through his Son every day, if we have eyes to see. The parable also invites to allow something of God’s ways to shape our ways, so that we too begin to relate to others not on the basis of what they deserve but out of the generosity of our heart. Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland. Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie Please join us via our webcam. Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC. Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf. Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

[cwkrp]

have a little imagination, will you?

INTRODUCING   kim sunho, he/him, 23/11/95 COURSING   ba in architecture, third year AFFILIATION   crux ANNOTATIONS   n/a

a note from the past.

TOKEN.

everything starts at the beginning, it’s the defining moment for all that is to be, or to be not. things can be fixed or modified or broken, but the inception is the core onto which time works. and well, sunho was raised to be stupid.

he wasn’t an unintelligent child. he wasn’t noticeably bright either. but the question was never the potential of his intellect, it isn’t for most kids, but rather how it was cultivated into what it would come into being. how it was stimulated.

sunho was educated to be rich - and stupid, which is integral to the state of richness. knowledge was only useful, as far as the social structures in charge of building his character were concerned, in how it instructed rampant materialism, concealed aggression ideally teetering on psychopathy and an inherent sense of entitlement. being rich is the moral axis of his education, and the most notable variables applicable are behavioral, making luxury look good, and political, getting richer. books or whatever were for the misfortunate punished with the need for thought, enlightenment was for those born into opulence.

and yet, there are things he can learn. if not out of an inquisitive mind, from circumstance.

nothing is more circumstantial than being held on a tight leash by his mother during a fundraiser. she has had some to drink, and she thinks he can’t tell. she hisses at him not to make a scene when he talks back, prods at him when he goes silent with a visible roll of eye.

she has a way of ruining things. his hosting of this stupid fundraisers was her idea, to begin with. he had said no, but she makes his father dangle the office internship in his face with the one condition of making them look good, like his brother would. they blow the whistle and he wags his tail, like always. he doesn’t even want the spot, and yet there he is, on hands and knees to please them. please her.

he should have known better.

her boring old friends love him, like they would love any fresh-faced sixteen year old in a tux faking polite smiles at them. he doesn’t understand why she has to pick at mistakes like they matter. everyone loves him, and yet she asks him through gritted teeth why he has to embarrass her every time. why can’t he do better. why can’t he be proper rich and stupid. why can’t he be his brother.

why can’t he be his brother.

there’s something about the way she says it, eyes so cold on his that he can’t bring himself to look away. her voice never raises, but she foams at the mouth, hand squeezing his pulse. his fingers twitch in response while his lips part open. there’s a moment of clarity, a sobering effect to the voidness in her voice. he has seen her frustrated, he has seen her angry.

this is neither.

that was the first and last day his mother would teach him a lesson worth learning, the single instance in which she’d pass him a piece of wisdom he could actually do anything with. that day, his mother teaches him she didn’t (stress: wouldn’t) love him.

and then he gets research for homework:

i. parental neglect — the words his therapist would tiptoe around, her lips trembling at their whisper, while he busied himself with imagining them around his dick, nude lipstick smearing the shaft like his girlfriend’s pink one would, sometimes.

ii. gratitude — the distant sensation of resigned relief one experiences at finding something’s unattainable, putting one out of their lifelong, desperate search for it.

STEREOTYPE.

the first kim son is born a heir. he has an empire to inherit, and is trained to raise to the task from his earliest years. they made a picture perfect family on paper: the real estate mogul, the early retired modeling starlet, and their beautiful first born, a son. there is pressure on his shoulders, but there's also splendor, a calling to greatness few people are endowed with in their lives.

and then, well, there's also sunho. he is not as much of an investment as he is a vanity project. his mother had decided that a second child would be the god-given cure to her midlife crisis. like growing a fetus inside your womb in your thirties would freeze time on its tracks and end famine. not that she cared about the latter.

after a difficult pregnancy, his mother gets a difficult child. he rips her inside out and continues to ruin every plan she has ever laid out for herself with each breath he takes. her husband dismisses it as another instance of her being committed by her nerves. she continues to refuse to even look at the toddler.

off to a rough start.

sunho grows up on dangerously low expectations. with all the roles and tasks trusts to this brother, there is little left for him to do. it doesn't help that there's an eight-year gap between the two children, no one had ever planned for sunho.

the second kim son is born an inconvenience, and no one knows what to do with him.

there are perks. the main one being that he doesn't need to be the absolute idiot his brother is in charge of being, speaking like he is reading off a dictionary page, shirt buttoned up to the collar. he feels no sympathy when he notices the misery the roll puts the boy through, he never helps. they are essentially strangers living in the same house, barely exchanging a word throughout the day.

as for cons, there's everything else. his mother calls him difficult. his father doesn't do much to help. his brother casts a shadow on him. worst of all, sunho himself is pathetic. given no attention, he makes it his sole goal to get it. nightmare child at infancy, tamed rebel in his teens, then jaded asshole for the rest of his youth. he learns to stop begging and writhing, and takes the higher road of passive indignation. it doesn't much change things, but it's a whole lot easier.

he learns the value of low effort, the art in having it easy. he embraces his mediocrity and wears it like a crown, because that's all he is ever taught to do. he'll grow up and get a job with his brother, sit back and make the money while the poor fuck stands in the front line to let stress eat away at him. sunho can pay someone to write him a nice eulogy, that should make it up for it.

at the end of the day, he cannot bring himself to care what you call him. rich asshole. trust fund baby. desperate neglected child. pick and choose, sunho can put on a good show when given the right role.

a color for the present.

GREEN.

he wants a cig, that's all. he wants it between his fingers, the light flickering bright as he breathes in, lungs washed dry, and out again, fumes licking at this lashes. he wants it with whiskey, dry, and the dead quiet of the evening. just him, and the breeze, and the smoke. his soul longs for it with a burning pain. he really just wants a fucking cig.

but she makes it so hard, with her hands full of questions, and her eyes, barely able to hold a shape that isn't a frown. it's such a downer. 

the air misses his nostrils, and his mouth is all tongue and teeth, none of them his. what is she so fucking sad over all the time? you'd think he's a monster, with the way she mopes and whines and swears it's the last time to her friends. does she think he never heard what they say about him behind the closed doors, to make her feel better?

ashes stain his jeans, he wipes them off with an annoyed hiss.

"you have to give me space," he explains, as patient as he can be. he doesn't want a fight. he keeps saying that, over and over again. if only she would listen.

he takes a drag, but the tingle in his throat feels like shit with her staring into his nape. she laughs, like she does when she wants to punch him.

"you have all the space between us," she says somewhere behind him, facing away. she turns her back when he turns his, and that's part of the problem, isn't it?

the problem is much bigger than that, though. she wants to go in and get under covers, and he wants to stay and finish his smoke. she is asking why two bodies cannot occupy the same space, and he just wants his smoke. that is the problem.

her reprise, "I don't have any space left."

jesus. so fucking pretentious.

he laughs like he does when he wants her to punch him, tongue in cheek, head tipping. it's so easy not to care after a point, he wonders if there was ever a point in which it was more complicated than this.

"yeah, well. you could always get lost." he doesn't miss a bit this time, doesn't pick the right words. his fingers ache with cold, and when she tells him to fuck himself too, her fading steps echoing down the pavement, he finally throws the cigarette on the floor to dig balled fists into his pockets, shivering.

the cigarette lies half smoked on the floor when he walks out. he doesn't even remember to put it out.

BLUE.

he sits at the back, scratching his nose as he lets his hair curtain over his eyes. he tastes metal and smells the heavy rain seeping through thin walls in the stuffy room. there's not many people, but the limited space makes it look crowded.

there's a framed picture at the other side of the room behind a single candle, and two young girls sit next to it. they're around his age, and he knows their names without having ever talked to them.

he doesn't know fear until she dies.

she was not his mother, but she was the one his mother had thrown money at to make her problems disappear, make him disappear. she was not his mother, but she was the next best thing.

they had a rocky relationship. he gave her bile and snark, she gave him love and patience. he didn't know what to do with it, and she understood that. she used to pet him like one pets a scared animal, and he would read it as condescension.

he doesn't know if it's right to say he loved her, but he knows he misses her. he knows it was his place to do better for her. if not in life, at least on her deathbed. his mother said to her family there was nothing she could do while the poor woman wasted away in a hospital. he has such a fleeting grasp of empathy still, but he knows that to be bullshit when he sees it.

but he couldn't stand to embarrass his mother. he sat there and let her send the only person who had ever been patient with him to her death.

the weird thing is that, sitting there in that room filled with people who did more than he had done, unable to walk up to greet her family, he doesn't know if he came for her or for himself. he can no longer tell whether he's paying respects or seeking his own closure.

whatever it is he was looking for, he leaves without ever finding it. maybe it's what he deserves.