#even then most people didn’t understand Dune did they

[warlockcctv]

One of the simplest changes Honest Hearts could’ve made was just including a leader for the Sorrows or Dead Horses that comes from those groups.

Daniel and Joshua are fine, I like Joshua despite the many issues he has and the weird obsession the rest of the internet has with him. They are still religious missionaries who make massive decisions for what seem like helpless tribals who would surely be killed if not for: A white ex-racist (he’s working on it), a really tired Mormon (who granted is supposed to be Asian not white but still. In an unmodded game he is white so most players will encounter him that way), and a racially ambiguous Courier.

None of these people belong to these groups, they may be accepted but at very few points do the groups from HH get to advocate for themselves or make their own decisions. I would have loved to see a divide in the community based on the ideas of its members not “which white guy is more right”

I’m sure I’m far from the first person to make this observation but I’ve been doing a lot of Fallout TTRPG work and the tribals have been a difficult thing to approach.

One hand almost every group is classic fallout and nv are at least discernible groups with histories and identities even if that is just murder hobo (not all of them, I’m looking at you jackals and vipers in nv) but at least it’s not all Bethesda Raiders.

On the other hand, none of them have been particularly sensitive to actual native cultures they clearly rip from. Sulik (and fallout 2s depiction and direction of tribals) is obviously seeping with stereotype. Honest hearts probably makes the best attempt in any fallout so far and test we still can’t trust two long standing native groups to make their own choice? One of two white Mormons should do it instead.

I know I’m probably late to the party but I haven’t given Honest Hearts a proper play through and payed attention in almost 3 years. This stuck out almost instantly after meeting Joshua again.

[eco-lite]

Finally got to read Volume 6! I didn’t think anything could top Volume 4, but this one is a very close contender for my favorite. Here are my unedited thoughts:

“Sinhalite Beckons, Part 1”

* An extra case first??? Okay then.

* Who is this female version of Seigi? This is hilarious, they’re way too similar!

* Very curious where in the timeline this story takes place…

“The Wandering Conch Pearl”

* WAIT WTF?? That was Seigi’s dream? Did he dream of himself as a woman interacting with Richard in Sri Lanka??????

* Not the milkman omgggg.

* Oooh Richard’s assistant in Hong Kong. That’s probably the sleezy guy he was talking about in the last story. Can Seigi see into other peoples’ pasts now? Didn’t know there was going to be a supernatural element lol.

* “I couldn’t decide if I should serve tea or not, so my brain cells had a meeting and came to the unanimous conclusion not to” (34). I love Seigi so much. 😂

* “I couldn’t stop smiling. Richard thanked me. He said he thought I was dependable. His smile was beautiful enough to start, but boy, a direct hit from his charm sure packed a punch. I was glad he’s withdrawn to the back room, because I was pretty sure my face wasn’t going to go back to normal for a while” (42). Oh, honey… 😌

* Wow, I did not think I would be learning so much about post-WWII politics between Japan and the Dominican Republic from this series, but here we are.

* This conversation between Richard and Seigi from page 62-67 is all over the place. Richard shutting Seigi down when he invites Richard over, but obviously still wanting to let Seigi in. And he ends up asking Seigi to dinner even though he just made the argument that Seigi should go home and go to bed early. And then he gets frustrated that Seigi is being so amenable to going out to dinner with him?? Bro, get your emotions together! You of all people should know that Seigi is not a mind reader. Let him know how you feel, for fuck’s sake!

* “To me, Richard’s beauty was like Mount Fuji at sunrise or the windswept sand dunes in a desert. Anyone else’s beauty was…very human. When I looked at Richard, I felt a mysterious calm, like if I were looking at a lake or the sky or the sea. Normal human features weren’t even in the same category. But if I said any of that out loud, I was pretty sure I’d offend literally everyone” (67). Yes, would would offend literally everyone. You’re learning, Seigi!

* “To have someone look upon the grain of truth hidden within the most tender part of yourself, and tell you their unvarnished opinion of it—I thought that would, without question, be cause for joy” (69). Okay well then you better tell Richard how you feel about having to leave Étranger in the next story, Seigi! Expose that grain of truth!!

“Resplendent Spinel”

* Seigi is really too nice. Filling in for someone in a club where you don’t know any of the other members? Could never be me.

* Ayame describing the “insincere drivel” her boyfriend spouts at her and Seigi’s reaction is “I felt like I was about to go into cardiac arrest” (93). 😅 Is he finally gaining some self-awareness about how ostentatious his compliments of Richard are?

* Ayame: “‘And if you think that a compliment can’t cut as deeply as an insult, you’re terribly naive’” (93). Seigi: “I felt like I’d been sent flying by a body blow” (94). Seigi is really going through it…

* “‘But you are different. Your words are different. When your words brush my face, it’s like a playful wind. With your absurd vocabulary, you are expressly telling me that my appearance brings you joy. It does feel a bit peculiar at times, but perhaps I find that peculiarity oddly endearing, Seigi.’ And then he smiled. I was struck dumb for a while” (96). Holy shit… 😳

* “‘I have a hard time understanding the nature of your love for me. It’s be a great help if you could give me a rundown, as if you were briefing me for a job’” (101). I wish Richard would ask Seigi to do this. But I think Seigi needs to complete his “self assessment” first. He doesn’t even understand the nature of his own love for Richard.

* Wow, Itagaki is actually pretty mature. Good for him.

* “‘Well, I just want you to know there has been a lot of diversity in body type in the industry lately, and I would love you even if you put on a hundred kilos, so don’t overdo it’” (110). It’s really nice to see a male character so adamant that his girlfriend shouldn’t have to worry about losing weight, especially since she’s in the entertainment industry. I hope we see even more diverse body types in Japanese entertainment in the future.

* I hope we get to see this “long talk” they’re going to have in the next story.

“Paraíba Tourmaline Romance”

* Omg Tanimoto is back! And she’s finally meeting Richard!! The two of them ganging up on Seigi is so funny.

* “Once again, it was Seigi Nakata versus the allied forces of Richard and Tanimoto. Honestly, I was probably the happiest if ever been in my life, but I was also just as embarrassed” (135). This is so cute.

* “‘I agree that romance might just be a stone I don’t know yet, but it feels so removed from me—like that planet made from diamonds orbiting a distant star. Maybe I just don’t have the courage for interstellar travel’” (153). This is so ace. I’m so so glad Tanimoto decided to be true to herself and not force herself into a romantic relationship she didn’t actually want. Sometimes you don’t need to experiment. You just know yourself. I’m so proud of her!

* Wow, I really teared up seeing Richard talk about queerness and fluctuations in identity so directly. I’m so happy Tsujimura had the courage to include frank conversations about queer issues. Richard’s perspective here truly is “like a spring breeze rushing through a window that no one remembered opening” (153).

* “‘What really matters is that you never forget that while you possess the potential to change, your present self continues to become your future self… I know it’s hard to decide what choice will be best for you, if I were in your position, I would not think forcing myself into a romantic relationship would be that choice… While dying on your feet is all well and good, one wrong step might make it nothing g more than foolhardy and reckless. And perhaps in the same way, a strategic retreat isn’t running away so much as it is a change of course’” (157). Ace ally Richard is so important to me. This is why he’s my comfort character.

* “‘When Seigi told me about this place, I thought it was a shop run by a foreign man who would show his customers wonderful gemstones. I see it’s actually a shop that provides kindness and comfort to those who see themselves as Étranger’” (158). fUCK.

* I’m so glad Seigi apologized for what he said to Tanimoto at the museum. I know it’s hard for him to let go of the fact that Tanimoto doesn’t feel romantic love since he has a crush on her, but I think he’s more understanding of her feelings now, thanks to the conversation with Richard.

* Omg Seigi and Tanimoto having a mature conversation about why they wouldn’t work out romantically. So nice to see. I think Tanimoto still kind of misunderstood why Seigi wanted to ask her out before, but that’s very on brand for her lol.

* “‘I feel like having you around has made me a better person than I was before’” (173). Richard!!! 💘💘💘

* Tanimoto defending Seigi and telling Richard to never hurt him again! I love her so much!

* I love this story so much! It was great to learn more about Tanimoto’s past and see her finally interact with Richard, who was just so thoughtful here. I can’t believe he felt bad for telling her not to worry about romantic love because he thought it might hurt Seigi. That’s sweet, but I’m glad he was true to himself and what Tanimoto needed to hear in that moment. And Seigi got just a bit more mature, too. I have such intense affection for everyone in this situation. But not Seigi’s father coming to ruin the vibes at the end. 🤬🤬🤬

“The Tanzanite of Rebirth”

* Seigi’s father is such a disgusting manipulator. I always say I want to learn more about Seigi, but learning how awful this man was to him and Hiromi, and how dark Seigi’s thoughts were at that time… How dark they are now… It’s really distressing.

* The fucking tonal shift from this melancholy last dinner together to Jeffrey showing up in the hotel room is so funny. For real though, what did Seigi think would happen when he followed Richard to his room?? 👀 But it’s really concerning that Seigi felt he had no choice but to follow Richard to his room. Obviously that’s Seigi’s extremely negative headspace talking, but please have some self-respect!

* “‘Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I spent a long time stalking you within the realm of what’s legal, of course. Obviously, I’ve repented of my actions—please, God, forgive me for my trespasses. And since I’ve repented, I hope you’ll forgive me for reoffending. It’s plain for anyone to see that something’s been eating at you’” (228). JEFFREY. It’s kind of sweet that Jeffrey has been keeping an eye on Seigi, but did he have to get this intense about it? This kidnapping situation is so chaotic lol. That is his style, though.

* “‘Why do you treat me like some rock on the side of the road? What do you think I am? A doll that’s not good for anything but being on display? I’ve been on this Earth longer than you have. I possess more knowledge than you, and I have enough free time to be able to afford to spend some on you. And yet you had the audacity to try to abandon me and walk off into the darkness. It’s beyond asinine and irrational’” (230). YOU TELL HIM, RICHARD! (Not to even mention Richard told Seigi he loves him just before this rant.) But I feel like Seigi could have said this exact speech when Richard ran away to England before. They both feel that the other should rely on them more, but wouldn’t want to be a burden. After the England debacle, Richard learned that it’s okay to rely on people who love you. Now Seigi has to learn that lesson too.

* “There was a large dam inside my heart, and what it was holding back wasn’t water but sludge. And I didn’t want any of that getting on Richard. It’s the sort of thing that you let out into a drainage ditch in secret” (232-233). Oh, honey, no. First of all, Richard is a human being who loves you and can withstand hearing bad things. You’re not tainting him. He’s asking you to trust him with this. Second of all, please go to therapy…

* It’s really concerning to see how Seigi thinks of himself as having the potential for violence against people he loves. It’s really common for witnesses of domestic abuse to think that way, but it’s so clear in Seigi’s actions that he could never do that. He has such a good heart. But he’s really clouded by dark thoughts from interacting with his father. It’s not like he was thinking this when he wanted to date Tanimoto. These thoughts resurfaced very recently. Thankfully Richard has done enough self-reflection to throw his own situation in Seigi’s face to show him how ridiculous he’s being.

* “‘You don’t think of me as normal or expected. You don’t think of me as tangible, something that is always by your side. That is why I remain someone distant and unreachable to you… You never attempt to close the distance between us. And you never allow me to pay your price, the affection, you are worth’” (243-244). Wow. This reflective Richard is extremely powerful…

* “The moment I realized that he had been watching over me and accepting me for who I was on a much deeper level than I could even have imagined, I felt like I’d been tossed into the middle of the ocean—it was salty, and I struggled to breathe. I was such a loser, such a thoughtless person, a timid child crying in the dark with his knees held tightly to his chest, and yet it felt like he took it all in and said that it was fine. But it wasn’t just a feeling, he believed in me, more than I could ever believe” (247-248). Yes, Seigi, that’s what you do when you love someone. You did the same for him.

* Omg punk Jeffrey?! I wish I could see all those photos Richard keeps as blackmail. 😂

* I’m glad Richard brought up “what floor?” Seriously, Seigi not feeling able to reject him was scary. For both of them, I think.

* Seigi’s stepdad is an absolute legend! King of positive masculinity! “‘I don’t think being strong or not has anything to do with whether you’re okay’” (272). Fuck yes. Hiromi did so well marrying this man.

* “‘I don’t want an apology, I want you to reflect on your behavior. I imagine you understand this by now, but your number-one assignment at the moment is learning to value yourself more’” (274). The fact Richard is able to say this to Seigi is a reflection of his own growth as well. I’m so glad they’re in each other’s lives. They make each other better. 🥹

* Seigi trying to tell Richard he wants to keep being around him even if he doesn’t work at Étranger anymore but it keeps coming out likes he’s proposing or asking him on a date. I think his first statement was the truest to how he feels: ‘“I want to be by your side from now on, if you’ll let me’” (280). I think Richard was ready to accept that as a proposal until Seigi made a bunch of qualifying statements lol.

* Wow, this story means so much to me. Everything that came out of Richard’s mouth was something both Seigi and I (and so many other people, I’m sure) needed to hear. Their relationship got so much deeper. And I can’t wait to see what shenanigans Seigi gets up to in this hotel lol. Especially if Richard is staying there as well. Very excited for the next volume. This one had better come out on time! 😤

“Sinhalite Beckons, Part 2”

* OKAY this is wild! I swear to god the person on the motorcycle in part 1 is Richard, but it seems to be Seigi now???? And he and Richard seem to live together in this nice house in Sri Lanka???????

* Omg she’s the sister of the airport lady from “Flourite By Your Side!” 😲 Glad she’s feeling better!

* Okay so it’s been three years? And there are pictures of the shop in Ginza and their families on the coffee table?? This is so fucking domestic. Is this their future???

* It’s refreshing to see someone call Seigi attractive for once! RIP Keiko’s love life though lol.

* “‘But you know, you really surprised me. You speak textbook-perfect English, but your Japanese sounds like someone from a local convenience store.’ I told him I thought is was a very interesting gap, and he smiled bashfully. ‘He always tells me that—“At this point, the language you might be the least eloquent in might be Japanese.” It is the one language he didn’t teach me, after all’” (301). This is so funny. And it’s making more sense why I thought Seigi was actually Richard in the first part. I can’t believe Seigi speaks English with a British accent! 😂

* Lol once again somebody’s first assumption is that Seigi and Richard are a couple, and it’s still not hard to see why. Love that Keiko immediately asked Seigi out after learning they’re not together, though. You go, girl! But Seigi’s heart belongs to someone else, huh? For real, please tell me he knows it’s Richard at this point!

* I find it so interesting that Tsujimura decided to show us this glimpse of Seigi and Richard’s future. What was the purpose?? It’s a fun and cute story, but not very satisfying if you’re routing for them to get together. And it weirdly feels like an ending even though I know there are at least two more volumes after this…

“Afterward”

* This isn’t a story but I need to record my reaction to the sentence “the first part of the story has now come to a close with Volume 6—though there is still more to tell.” 😲😲😲 Okay, I didn’t realize this story was in parts! Maybe “Sinhalite Beckons” is a way to transition into this new future chapter of Seigi and Richard’s life. 🤔

* Tsujimura actually knows a jeweler who taught them how to make royal milk tea lol. That’s adorable. They do say to write why you know.

* “It would make me very happy if you would keep me company on their journey for a little while.” Tsujimura, I am with you for the long haul. 🫡 Let’s do this!

[goodnightmemes]

DUNE: PART TWO (2024) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ This world is beyond cruelty. ❜

❛ Never stand with your back towards the open. How many times do I have to tell you that, huh? ❜

❛ Don’t worry. I’m taking you somewhere they will never find us. ❜

❛ You fought well… once you woke up. ❜

❛ He thinks you’re spies. ❜

❛ Your faith is playing tricks on you. ❜

❛ I’m ready to pledge my life for him. ❜

❛ Your father didn’t believe in revenge. ❜

❛ Don’t mock him. He deserves our respect. He’s a good fighter. ❜

❛ Never give your water away, not even for the dead. ❜

❛ It’s an honor, isn’t it? I think you should feel honored. ❜

❛ Well, it was a choice between this or death, so, you know, forgive me if I’m not flattered. ❜

❛ You want to control people, you tell them a messiah will come. Then they’ll wait for centuries. ❜

❛ That was no miracle! ❜

❛ I’m not here to lead. I’m here to learn your ways. Let me fight beside you. That’s all I’m asking. ❜

❛ You will see! The beauty and the horror! ❜

❛ Oh! Don’t ever, ever listen to the jinn. ❜

❛ He’s not like the other strangers. He’s sincere. ❜

❛ You know, I’m the only one who believes you’re gonna make it until summer? Everyone else thinks you won’t make it two weeks. ❜

❛ What? Stop looking at me like that. ❜

❛ We must convert the non-believers one by one. We need to start with the weaker ones. The vulnerable ones. The ones who fear us. ❜

❛ Who taught you to fight like that? ❜

❛ We can stop them together, bury them in the sand where they belong. ❜

❛ Then I’ll die, maybe you will too. But the others will keep going. And they won’t stop. ❜

❛ Where you’re from, does water really fall from the sky? ❜

❛ Your blood comes from Dukes and Great Houses. We don’t have that here. Here, we’re equal, men and women alike. What we do, we do for the benefit of all. ❜

❛ Well, I’d very much like to be equal to you. ❜

❛ It’s been a while since you’ve had one of those nightmares. Tell me, what was it about? ❜

❛ You’ve been exposed to spice for a long time. It can create weird dreams. ❜

❛ Don’t try to impress anyone. You are brave. We all know that. Be simple. Be direct. Nothing fancy. ❜

❛ I won’t shame you. I understand. ❜

❛ The way they look at you. They worship you now. ❜

❛ I’m no messiah. ❜

❛ She says you’re blinded by love, and she reminds you that you must reserve your hand for the most strategic alliance. ❜

❛ Do you not think I also feel the weight of the prophecy? ❜

❛ They deserve to be led by one of their own. ❜

❛ Repression only makes a religion flourish. ❜

❛ You underestimate the power of faith. ❜

❛ Prophets get stronger when they die. ❜

❛ You’d be a formidable empress. ❜

❛ Then what hope is there? ❜

❛ Hope? We don’t hope, we plan. ❜

❛ The question is, can we control him? And I intend to find out. ❜

❛ I won’t die like a fool. Kill me now. ❜

❛ No fear. These fights are all for show. ❜

❛ Show me who you are. ❜

❛ This morning you were a playboy, feared and envied, but tonight you’re a hero. ❜

❛ You’re following me. ❜

❛ You’re not allowed in this section. How did you get past the guards? ❜

❛ I remember now. I dreamed about you last night. ❜

❛ Come to me. Kneel. ❜

❛ I recognized your footsteps, old man. ❜

❛ When our resources are limited…fear is all we have. ❜

❛ Well, what are you waiting for? With thousands of these guys, you could take control of the entire planet. ❜

❛ They used to be friends. Now they’re followers. ❜

❛ You have the power to avenge your father, and you’re afraid to use it? ❜

❛ I can foresee things. If I go South, all my visions lead to horror. ❜

❛ Billions of corpses scattered across the galaxy. All dying because of me. ❜

❛ No need to be a prophet to see what’s ahead. ❜

❛ Your path leads to war. You know that. ❜

❛ So, war is coming. What will you do when you feel its breath upon your neck? ❜

❛ He who can destroy a thing has the real control of it. ❜

❛ You promised me you didn’t want power. ❜

❛ No matter what I do, you still don’t trust me. ❜

❛ My allegiance is to you. I’m doing this for all of us. Do you believe me? ❜

❛ It’s right under everybody’s noses. Not clever. ❜

❛ That’s the idea. Nobody would ever look in there because it’s obvious. ❜

❛ Nothing can live there without faith. ❜

❛ I want to go on the ground. Prepare my troops. ❜

❛ You humiliated our family. You humiliated me. ❜

❛ Embarrass our family one more time… it will be the last. ❜

❛ It is a good time to cross blades with me. I am weak. I am an easy kill. ❜

❛ I don’t care what you believe. I believe. ❜

❛ I’ll stay behind and cover your retreat. ❜

❛ You see only fragments. You cannot see the future without seeing the past. ❜

❛ To unlock your mind, you need to drink the Water of Life… and you will see everything. ❜

❛ A good hunter always climbs the highest dune before his hunt. He needs to see… as far as he can see. ❜

❛ The world has made choices for us. ❜

❛ You will never lose me. Not as long as you stay who you are. ❜

❛ You are not prepared for what is to come. ❜

❛ You’ll now learn the truth about our family. And it will hurt you to the core. ❜

❛ His vital signs are so low, they can’t be detected. But he’s alive. ❜

❛ You might not believe in the prophecy, but you’re a part of it. ❜

❛ You’re the poison. You and your lies. Why would you do this? ❜

❛ The visions are clear now. I see possible futures. All at once. ❜

❛ Our enemies are all around us. And in so many futures, they prevail. But I do see a way. ❜

❛You can stop this. Do you hear me? You have the power to stop this.

❛ This prophecy is how they enslave us! ❜

❛ You think I’m stupid enough to deprive myself of the best of us? Do you smash a knife before battle? ❜

❛ There is no one in this room who can stand against me! ❜

❛ This could be the moment you’ve been praying for all your life. ❜

❛ But there is one way your family can remain in power and, through you, the continuation of our stewardship. One. Way. Are you prepared? ❜

❛ You’ve been preparing me my whole life. ❜

❛ Long live the fighters! ❜

❛ I swear to you, I wasn’t aware of any of this. ❜

❛ You die like an animal. ❜

❛ Look who’s back from the dead. ❜

❛ I want you to know… I will love you as long as I breathe. ❜

❛ They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think? ❜

❛ Consider what you’re about to do. ❜

❛ You’ll be lucky to keep your head. ❜

❛ I’ll take the hand of your daughter. She will remain safe. And we will rule together over the Empire. ❜

❛ Do you know why I killed him? Because he was a man who believed in the rules of the heart. But the heart is not meant to rule. ❜

❛ Stand or choose your champion. ❜

❛ Do not stain your hands on this animal. Let me deal with him. ❜

❛ Why does he take such risks? ❜

❛ Well, you wouldn’t be the first relative I’ve killed. ❜

❛ May thy knife chip and shatter. ❜

❛ You have fought well. ❜

❛ You should’ve believed. You chose the wrong side.❜

❛ You, of all people, should know. There are no sides. ❜

❛ Spare my father now and I will be your willing bride. The throne will be yours. ❜

❛ They refuse to honor your ascendancy. ❜

❛ Lead them to Paradise. ❜

[axkirak]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : XIV] - END

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings :  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+ Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary : ‘Pick a flower on Earth and you move the farthest star.’ This describes chaos theory and the workings of fate as well, which illustrates how your final change of destiny moves the fate of the entire galaxy.

Status: Completed (Finally! 😭)

A/N : I can’t believe I actually finished writing this fic! It’s my first long English fic, and I’m pretty proud of it. I know my writing still has a lot of flaws (since English isn’t my strong suit), but I’m so happy people enjoyed it.

I loveeeee yapping about my own writing, so I plan to share more about this fic in another post—things like plot points I didn’t include and alternative endings I considered. Hope that sounds interesting to you, LOL

Lastly, a huge thank you to everyone who stuck with this fic till the end. Your comments and encouragement really kept me going, and I couldn’t have done it without you <3

Ps.Please go back and read the Intro again before starting the final chapter, as it’s part of the ending. (I used a storytelling style where the story opens with the ending) Reading the Intro first will help you understand the story more clearly.

And don’t forget to play this song while reading >> Skugge

I listened to it while writing the ending, and it really sets the mood

➡  Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13

Special OS : Phantom Thread

[Episodes 14] The Power of Two. (Completed)

When contemplating deeply, every entity in the universe is intricately connected in various ways.

On the quantum level, all particles are entangled and influence each other regardless of distance. Even the smallest, minor actions can trigger unforeseen consequences that ripple through the universe. This is far more complex than ordinary humans can immediately comprehend. 

And that’s exactly how fate works.

You know that the chain reaction has already begun the moment you decided to shoot Yord yourself. 

The stun blaster is designed to be non-lethal—at most, it would knock Yord unconscious and possibly immobile for several hours. But this is all you need to save his life from the fate you've foreseen on the path ahead.

You've always known—Yord and Qimir are polar opposites, destined to kill each other. Yord stands for the light, while Qimir embodies the darkness. They cannot coexist in the same world. Whenever they fight, one must die, or both shall perish. There are only those three possible outcomes.

So you chose a fourth path: to prevent them from confronting each other so that neither would have to die.

You’ve only just realized how much selfishness lies beneath love. Instead of seeking a way to prevent the disaster that’s looming a hundred years from now, you chose to defy fate. You interfered with the story as it was meant to play out, pushing the universe toward an unpredictable risk—all for the sake of one word: 'love.'

The essence of Paul that flows within you still remembers the agony of the day Chani and Alia Atreides departed. Even though thousands of years have gone by, the torment remains too vivid to forget—like your heart being torn apart while still beating and your soul shattered beyond repair. You can't bear the risk of losing anyone to fate’s cruel hand again.

That's why you did it. You gambled on a path that has never appeared in any of your visions, not knowing what the consequences would be.

And you never expected that the consequences of your choice would ripple out so quickly.

You didn’t realize it...until you had to face the truth before your eyes half an hour later.

How could this be?

You stood frozen, as though the entire world had stopped spinning. Your gaze was fixed on Jackie's body, now lying motionless on the ground among the other corpses. The deep, searing wound from a lightsaber had cut through her flesh, blood pooling beneath her, staining the Jedi robes that were once yellow but were now soaked in a dark, gruesome hue.

The acrid stench of burnt flesh mingled with the metallic scent of blood, hanging thick in the air.

Jackie is still breathing, but her breaths grow weaker with every passing second. Her face contorts in excruciating pain, a pain that lasts only for a brief moment before her final breath escapes. Her eyes remain wide open—a sign that life has already slipped away.

At that moment, you hear a scream echoing in your ears, but the haze of shock leaves everything muffled.

You don't even know whose scream it is—Sol's or your own?

Never once did you think Jackie would die. In every vision you’d seen, she always survived, though gravely injured—losing an arm in the fight against Qimir. That was why you decided to come back instead of escaping alone. You knew that as long as Qimir lived, there was no escaping him—not for you. But Jackie still had a chance. If only you could get her and Yord aboard the ship in time before everything spiraled out of control, that would be enough.

But when you arrived, it was already too late. You saw it clearly with your own eyes: Qimir’s red lightsaber pierced through Jackie’s body three times, each strike aimed at a vital spot. There was no way she could survive such an attack.

You realized too late that the death of someone you loved was inevitable and unchangeable. If Yord and Qimir lived, it meant that Jackie would be the one to die. This was the consequence of your selfish attempt to alter fate. Jackie didn't die by Qimir's hand—it was your decision that sealed her fate.

You want to cry. The corners of your eyes burn with the sting of unshed tears, but none come. The grief is suppressed by the flood of information about the future that surges through your mind. You know you’ll mourn when the time comes, but not now. Not when death is crawling toward you.

“Run!”

A sharp voice jolts you from your thoughts. Finally, you hear it clearly—it’s Sol’s voice. He stands across the way, disheveled and wounded, with a minor gash at his side. His face shows shock, his voice shaking with fear. “Run! You shouldn’t be here!”

But his warning comes too late. You don’t even have a chance to respond, let alone follow his command. Suddenly, an invisible force wraps around you, tightening with each second, squeezing the breath from your lungs as if trying to crush you completely. You gasp, struggling for air, unable to move, like a drowning person on the verge of losing consciousness.

In that instant, memories from the depths of your mind flood back, dragging you into the nightmare you once foresaw. Each scene is like pieces of a puzzle coming together to form the terrible reality before you. 

Your eyes fix on a tall figure in a black cloak, his deformed metal helmet etched with a grotesque grin. He stands amidst the scattered corpses of fallen Jedi, radiating an aura of ruthless malevolence. His gaze, hidden beneath the helmet, stares intensely at you. Though you cannot see his face, you clearly sense the fury seething within him.

And in the blink of an eye, a tremendous force pulls you toward him with ease, leaving you powerless to resist.

You are completely at his mercy, your body suspended in mid-air as his large hand grips your throat. He could crush your windpipe or snap your neck in an instant; however, he holds back. You sense his intent through the shared consciousness that binds the two of you. This is how The Stranger plays with his prey. When he wears that helmet, he becomes a merciless hunter, driven only by the instinct to kill.

Sol doesn't hesitate. The moment he sees you in danger, he charges forward, his blue lightsaber flashing brilliantly as he swings it toward the Sith Lord. But the enemy moves with surprising speed. He yanks you closer, locking you in a chokehold with his arm, then tilts his body slightly, using his helmet as a shield to deflect the attack. When Sol’s lightsaber strikes the cortosis metal, it sparks and fizzles, rendering Sol’s weapon temporarily useless.

You draw a deep breath, your body tense as the Sith Lord's lightsaber hilt presses against your neck. He hasn’t activated it yet, but you know the moment he does, your face and brain will be reduced to charred flesh in an instant.

“Don’t even think about trying any tricks if you don’t want to lose your tongue,” comes the cold whisper in your ear. You understand the threat well: Qimir is the only one who knows your true capabilities. The Voice is a powerful secret weapon for the Bene Gesserit, and he won't give you the chance to wield it.

Even if you dared to try, it wouldn’t change anything. It would only hasten the end for both you and Sol. You’ve already seen the future that awaits if you choose that path. So, you stay silent for now, your mind racing to find another way—any way to turn the tables on Qimir.

“Let her go. She has nothing to do with this. Let it be between you and me!” Sol shouts, reigniting his lightsaber, but you can see that his hope hasn’t reignited.

Apart from Yord, who lies unconscious somewhere in the forest, Sol is now the only Jedi left breathing, while his comrades, including his padawan, are all dead. He should have been dead too, if you hadn’t intervened.

“But you brought her here, didn’t you?” the Sith taunts. “And I’m certain you wouldn’t have made it this far without this Bene Gesserit witch guiding you.”

As he finishes speaking, you feel his arm tighten around your neck, making it almost impossible to breathe. The suffocating pain forces you to struggle, your hands weakly hitting his arm to no avail. All you get in return is a mocking laugh.

“Bene Gesserit... the origin of both the Sith and the Jedi. Isn’t it fascinating that such remarkable beings still exist in the galaxy?” He reaches out, gripping your chin and studying your face closely before turning his attention back to Sol. "But what a pity that she chose the wrong side."

Sol shifts, readying himself to strike again, but the man in black is one step ahead. He lifts the hilt of his lightsaber to your temple without a word, yet his intent is clear—if Sol dares to take another step forward, you will die.

The Jedi grits his teeth, reluctantly deactivating his lightsaber. His eyes remain fixed on you as he addresses the Sith, "Tell me, what do you want?"

He’s stalling for time, you think. But how long can it last? You know you can’t rely on Sol alone. You need to find a way out too.

A harsh breath hisses out from beneath his helmet; it’s hard to tell whether it comes from exhaustion or amusement.

"At first, I thought I only wanted freedom: freedom from the Jedi's absurd rules, freedom to feel regret and anger, and freedom to follow my own desires," he answered flatly, as if what he desired were something ordinary, not the taking of lives. "But now I know what I truly want. I want to change; I want to liberate this universe from self-proclaimed guardians like you..."

His words stop abruptly. The silence that follows makes your heart tremble. You can feel his cold, burning rage—rage directed at the Jedi and rage directed at you.

"...And I would have achieved it sooner if I hadn’t been betrayed by someone.”

A scream rips from your throat, unprepared for the sudden, crushing weight of his boot as it slams hard into your shin. The sound of breaking bones is crystal clear. The pain is so intense that tears spring to your eyes, and your legs give way, no longer able to hold you up. But you don’t collapse completely, as Qimir still holds you upright, his grip on your arm unrelenting. His lightsaber is still pressed to your temple, while he turns to shake his head to warn Sol, who is ready to lunge forward again.

“Think about it, Sol. Why are you still trying to save her? She’s the reason you’re in this mess. Without her, you all might still be alive.”

The Sith Lord speaks with chilling indifference, completely unfazed by your whimpers as he presses his boot lightly against your broken leg, deliberately toying with your suffering. "But this one... she exposed me. So, now I have to kill every single last one of you."

You flinch, a cold shiver running down your spine. His voice—there’s something disturbingly strange about it, twisted and eerie, nothing like the Qimir you once knew.

Time is running out. Your heightened awareness warns you: he will kill Sol first, then possibly you.

You bite down hard on your lip, tasting blood. If there were any other way, you wouldn’t resort to this, but it’s the only option you know will work. And right now, there’s no other choice.

Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to speak, your voice as loud as you can manage.

"Please... don’t kill me. I’m pregnant!”

Silence falls instantly. Even the soft whisper of the wind seems unnaturally loud in the sudden stillness.

No one can see the expression behind his helmet, but you know without a doubt—he is shocked, utterly stunned by what he’s just heard.

And Sol notices it too—the brief moment when the Sith Lord’s guard drops, his grip on the lightsaber loosening without him realizing. It’s a tiny flaw, difficult to spot unless one is well-trained.

As if time stands still, Sol suddenly meets your glance, recognizing the purposeful look in your eyes. 

In that heartbeat, he knows exactly what to do.

Everything takes place within seconds: the Jedi ignites his lightsaber, lunging forward with all his strength and slashing into Qimir’s arm—the arm holding the lightsaber—sending both blood and the weapon crashing to the ground. The Sith Lord’s yell echoes through the forest.

Seizing the moment, you slip from Qimir’s grasp effortlessly. Sol pulls you toward safety, shoving you in another direction and shouting, “Get to the ship, quickly! I’ll catch up!”

He will never catch up to me, you think, glancing back at Sol one last time before turning away. Both of you know it—fate is already sealed. Sol will not leave this place tonight, and neither will you.

You force your battered body to keep moving, relying on the one leg that still functions, though each step is agonizing, nearly unbearable. Finally, you give up, sighing in resignation. With your current condition, reaching the ship is impossible. Fate has blocked every path—unchangeable and irreversible.

The only option left is to face the consequences of the choices you have made.

Weary, you sit down on a large stone not far from where you were. Jedi corpses still litter the area. A deep sorrow weighs on your chest as your gaze falls upon the faces of the fallen, remembering that just hours ago, they were all still alive.

Human life is so fragile, you think. No matter how many times you witness death, you can never grow used to it.

The sky visibly darkens as clouds turn a dull gray. The scent of moisture in the air gradually mutes the smell of blood. Rain will come soon, but you make no move to seek shelter. You place a hand on your slightly swollen belly, feeling the tiny life forming inside—the fruit of an instinctual mistake—now becoming another life reaching for the future amidst an approaching catastrophe.

At four months, it’s hard for most to see, but your Bene Gesserit training allows you to know everything about the growing flesh within you. Events unfold exactly as you’ve foreseen, and when this child is born, the future is certain—the beginning of the Skywalker and the path of a new Kwisatz Haderach.

You don’t want this child to be born, but it’s beyond your control now. The intricate weave of fate and bloodlines over the millennia has led everything to this point. Regardless of how much you try to avoid or change it, the Kwisatz Haderach will come into existence. It happened with Jessica thousands of years ago, and now it’s happening to you.

“The Bene Gesserit believe they can control everything, but the one thing they can never control is fate.”

Paul Atreides’ words resonate in your consciousness. You recall him saying this when you first discovered the truth about what will transpire in the next century through the realm of Alam al-Mithal.

“Every action in the present is a gamble for a precarious future. You cannot dictate the outcome to be what you want, and you’ll never know what will happen next until you’ve already made your choice,” Paul had said.

You tremble, feeling both isolated and terrified. It’s a profound fear—so deep that you don’t know how to express it. You know the path ahead has already changed. The universe has deviated from its course because of your actions, yet you have no idea whether things will get better or worse.

You close your eyes, forcing your mind into rapid meditation, trying to regain control over your thoughts. You push yourself into an awareness of the countless probabilities of the future, alongside everything that has occurred in the past. Those paths stretch out in every direction, twisting and overlapping in a bewildering tangle like gazing at the rippling surface of water that constantly morphs.

In that haze of uncertainty, you witness Paul Atreides wielding a crysknife, locked in a life-or-death duel with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, as per the ancient tradition. He uses that knife to kill Feyd, claiming the title of Emperor on that very day.

This marks the first turning point of the universe.

Next, you find yourself pulling the trigger of a stun blaster, firing at Yord from behind to shield him from confronting Qimir, thus altering the fate that could have led him to his death today.

This is the second turning point.

The change doesn’t only affect Yord’s fate. The ripple effect expands, enveloping everything within the universe. Multiple branching paths start to converge, merging into a singular path.

Finally... you glimpse the true outcome of the path you've chosen, which will reveal itself in over a century.

This is the gamble you've already placed your bet on, for this purpose and for this moment.

"Qimir"

His name sounds strange when you utter it, as if it's not a name you're familiar with, and the man before you is not the man you know.

You understand why you feel this way: he is no longer your Qimir but The Stranger—the Sith Lord responsible for the slaughter of the Jedi.

He stands before you, unmasked, his dark eyes cold as ice, staring at you impassively. There’s no longer a need for him to hide. Every aspect of him, every dark secret, has been laid bare—just as everything about you has.

The man chuckles softly and moves even closer, cutting off any chance for you to escape. You swallow hard, trying to turn your face away from his intense gaze. But he doesn't let you. His fingers, wet with others' blood, dig into both of your cheeks, pressing hard enough to hurt, forcing you to look only at him.

"Surprised?" He leans in closer, his hot breath on your face, and whispers softly in your ear, "I told you, you can't run away from me."

His words are not merely a threat to you; they are the truth. 

Because you both are bound by fate—an unbreakable karmic bond. No matter how much you try to run away from him, you will always be drawn back together. The only way to truly be free of him is death.

"I know, but a little effort wouldn't hurt, right?"

You respond, your tone almost playful, a smile still lingering on your pale face. It's as if everything is normal and under control, displaying no fear despite being at a complete disadvantage.

Your demeanor causes Qimir to furrow his brow, sensing something suspicious beneath your seemingly ordinary smile.

He doesn't quite understand, not until you slip your hand under your clothes.

Your body instinctively moves; muscle memory from years of training kicks in. In a flash, the knife hidden in your clothes flips into your palm, its sharp tip poised just inches from Qimir’s face.

You still remember every technique Qimir taught you—especially how to fight with a knife. You know you have numerous opportunities to thrust the knife into his vital points—his throat, neck, heart, or lungs.

But instead, you turn the knife on yourself. Without hesitation, without a second thought, you plunge it toward your own heart.

Before the knife pierces your flesh, Qimir's hand shoots out, gripping your wrist just in time. His dark eyes widen in shock, almost seeming terrified. Then, quickly, his expression twists into anger.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" he snaps.

"I thought you wanted me dead," you reply calmly, indifferent to his anger.

Qimir falls silent, appearing speechless for a moment. "I don't want you dead," he finally says, though he doesn’t seem certain of his own words.

It's changed again,  you think, but this time, you feel an unusual sense of relief.

You're well aware that he could kill you at any moment. You’ve seen all the possibilities of how Qimir might end your life, and what just happened was one of those scenarios.

Even though you’re skilled at fighting, you know you could never match Qimir. Had you chosen to stab him moments ago, you would have failed, and he would have killed you without hesitation. You’d have met a miserable end right here, just like in the visions you’ve seen so many times before.

However, by choosing to turn the knife on yourself, you altered the course of events. Qimir was caught off guard, never expecting you would actually dare to do it.

You’ve made him angry, of course, but you’ve also ignited the fear he tries so hard to conceal. It reminds him of the time you drank the Water of Life and slipped into a near-death coma for weeks. During that time, Qimir had been frantic and panicked, not knowing how to save you and fearing that you might die.

Qimir may not realize it yet—or perhaps he’s unwilling to admit it. However, witnessing this moment again will eventually compel him to confront the truth: he doesn’t truly want you dead.

This is all part of your plan. Your reckless actions sow a seed of fear in Qimir’s heart, and from now on, the thought of killing you will never cross his mind again.

Since escaping from Qimir is impossible, you must ensure your safety while trapped by his side.

“But you broke my leg!” You pretend to remain defiant, pointing to your leg and matching his anger with your own. “And you held your lightsaber to my head. Now you’re telling me you don’t want me dead? How am I supposed to believe that?”

Qimir clenches his jaw, appearing as if he wants to grab and shake you until the frustration fades.

Instead of doing that, he lets go of you, stepping back slightly before letting out a long sigh, as if unsure how to deal with you.

“That’s because you betrayed me. The rest? I was just threatening that Jedi.” He speaks through gritted teeth, glancing at your leg before shrugging. “And I’m pretty sure a broken leg won’t kill anyone, will it?”

For a split second, you feel the urge to laugh at his sarcasm, even though there’s nothing remotely funny about this situation.

Both of you look worse for wear—blood-soaked and gravely injured. He’s just killed someone, almost killing you as well.

Who would’ve thought that the two of you would end up sitting across from each other, arguing back and forth like a foolish couple trying to figure out who’s right or wrong?

It feels strange how the tension between you both suddenly eases; for a brief moment, Qimir resembles the man you once knew.

You notice this subtle shift and realize this is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for. You quickly organize your thoughts and steady your emotions. Because there’s something important you need to discuss with Qimir—and this is the perfect moment to do so. There won’t be another chance.

“Qimir, I’ll help you,” you say firmly this time. “I don’t care how many Jedi you kill, but I have one condition.”

Qimir narrows his eyes, his sharp gaze scrutinizing your face as if searching for deception. He doesn’t trust you, especially after you betrayed him once and fled with the Jedi.

Yet, you don’t need to prove anything to him because Qimir needs you. Your power is what he desires, and across the galaxy, you’re the only one who possesses this unique ability.

Your assumption is correct. He finally nods. "What’s your condition?"

"The one person you cannot kill is Yord Fandar."

“Why?”

"Because I’ve seen a vision. He’s the only one who can kill you. You must avoid him," you say, though this isn’t the whole truth. Qimir has an equal chance of killing Yord himself, but it’s better to let him believe otherwise, to keep him away from Yord in the future. "But don’t worry. He won’t be a Jedi anymore after this."

You’re certain of this, as it’s what you’ve seen in your vision—a part of the altered path extending ahead.

The tragedy today will leave a permanent mark on Yord’s soul. Losing all his companions while he alone survives will haunt him like an unforgiveable sin. The guilt will gnaw at him, wearing him down until he can no longer bear the burden of being a Jedi.

Eventually, Yord will choose to leave the Order, turning his back on the Jedi way forever.

In many ways, Yord’s fate mirrors Qimir’s past. But there is one crucial difference: Yord never succumbs to the dark side. He has too much light within him to be overtaken by darkness. He becomes neither Sith nor Jedi, but a Wayseeker,[1] traveling the galaxy in search of the true meaning of life and the Force.

Yord’s life will take another turn when he reaches the planet Naboo, where he is destined to rescue the daughter of a noble family held for ransom by space pirates. This event leads to their falling in love, and Yord will eventually marry her, settling down to build a family and live out his days in peace.

His bloodline will continue, becoming a crucial variable in the future—a girl named Padmé Amidala.

In the future, she will be the love of Anakin Skywalker’s life and the primary reason for his fall to the Dark Side as a Sith Lord, plunging the galaxy into darkness. Yet, at the same time, Padmé’s existence will spark a new hope.

Luke and Leia Skywalker, the twins of Anakin and Padmé, will grow up to stop their father's devastation and restore balance to the Force.

Among the many paths branching through the stream of time, this is the only path where the Kwisatz Haderach faces total defeat.

"Promise me." You insist, eyes locked onto Qimir's with unwavering determination, barely blinking. "Promise me you will believe and do everything as I say."

"You ask for my trust after betraying me, my love?" He retorts sharply.

"You must trust me; you have no other choice." Your voice is calm, cold, and confident, as if you hold all the cards. "And neither do I, my love." The last line deliberately echoes his words.

You watch Qimir carefully, using the Bene Gesserit’s observation techniques. You notice the slight twitch at the corner of his lips—amusement mixed with satisfaction.

“You should have thought like this before betraying me," he murmurs, raising his hand. You have to force yourself not to flinch as his bloodstained fingers touch your cheek. "I have my own conditions, too."

You freeze, suddenly aware of the shifting dynamics. The familiar pressure returns, creeping in slowly and making the atmosphere heavy and uncomfortable. You immediately realize how serious Qimir is about his conditions.

This is a delicate moment for your fate, and you know you cannot afford to make a mistake.

You lower your gaze slightly, your voice dry and uncertain as you ask, "What do you want?"

"You," Qimir says with a teasing smile, though his tone betrays a far darker intent. "You belong to me. That means your life—whether you live or die—depends entirely on me. And don’t ever think about running away from me again."

His fingers trail up to your neck, brushing slowly over your shoulder. Each touch is tender, leaving you frozen as tension seeps through every muscle in your body.

"And I need to ensure this never happens again, even if it means breaking your other leg. But you won't force me to do that, will you?"

He means it, you realize. This is his way of letting you know he’ll forgive you this time, but there won't be a second act of mercy.

As you blink, fragments of the future flash before your eyes, disjointed glimpses of what’s to come—a warning, urging you to brace yourself. 

You see countless more deaths on the horizon—deaths you'll help Qimir plan through your visions. You'll have to endure this torment, bitter and broken, haunted by the overwhelming guilt of what you’ve done for the rest of your life.

And you see yourself forever trapped, with Qimir watching your every move. You won't go anywhere without him or his permission. You will never be free again, like a bird with clipped wings.

This is the worst fate possible for you, yet you understand that this is the only path that holds a chance, the last hope to save the universe. You have no choice but to do whatever it takes to protect it, even if it means living as Qimir’s prisoner and forced to commit terrible atrocities for him, without question.

But it will be worth it. It has to be worth it. You reassure yourself silently as you nod slowly in response to Qimir.

He smiles faintly before leaning in to claim your lips in an intense kiss—a kiss that serves as both promise and a vow. His kiss is cold, reminiscent of a winter stripped of warmth, tinged with a metallic hint of blood. You don’t like it, but you don't push him away. You're too exhausted to resist, surrendering to fate and to Qimir.

There's nothing left for you to do but hope—hope that the path you've chosen is the right one.

Even though you will not live to witness the final outcome.

Footnotes:

[1] A Wayseeker is actually a position within the Jedi Order, referring to Jedi who want to carry out their duties independently of the Jedi Council's directives. However, in this fanfic, I don't consider Wayseekers to be Jedi like in canon; instead, I’m writing Wayseekers as independent Force users, completely separate from both Jedi and Sith.

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

Rebecca Ferguson is defending her recent revelation about a negative experience on one set, even though it earned strong reactions from some of her former co-stars.

Recently, while doing press for Dune: Part Two, Ferguson opened up about an uncomfortable experience she had with an unnamed fellow actor. She accused the actor of screaming at and degrading her in front of the whole cast and crew. She said during a podcast interview, “This person would literally look at me in front of the whole crew and say ‘You call yourself an actor?’, ‘This is what I have to work with?’, and ‘What the f**** is this?” Unfortunately, due to the actor’s placement as #1 on the call sheet, she felt forced to work with them and recounted the difficulty of having no one stand up for her. However, she soon found the strength to stand up for herself and told the actor off.

Ferguson chose not to identify the actor in the incident, as the story’s focus was highlighting a significant moment in her career where she vouched for herself and stood up against mistreatment. Understandably, though, the internet was outraged on her behalf and sought to find out who the actor was. There was some harmless internet sleuthing going on, which was more about users showing their support for Ferguson than an actual witch hunt. Yet some of her past co-stars took the sleuthing quite seriously.

Rebecca Ferguson reveals her co-stars’ reactions to her statement

While appearing on The Jess Cagle Show on SiriusXM, Ferguson opened up about the reaction to her story. She hadn’t expected the story to blow up the way it did. While she acknowledged that she “kind of enjoyed the grab,” the internet sleuthing, and attention, she reiterated that the point of her interview was never about trying to find the “idiot” actor. She stated:

But the point of the interview wasn’t about finding the person — of course, people will be interested. But I was excited about the question, which was a very good question by [Josh Smith]. Because the point was: Is there a point in your career where you were treated in a way where you changed your decision on — this is how I formulated it in myself — where you want change, or you will not accept it? And it was such a clear moment for me working with this person.

However, she goes on to detail how others in the industry weren’t very supportive of her telling her story. Ferguson revealed that some of her former co-stars were scared they would be mistaken for the perpetrator in her story. Some even went as far as to call and ask her, “‘You understand what you’ve done, right?”

Ferguson had the perfect response, acknowledging that their feelings weren’t really her responsibility. She stated, “And I was like, ‘Oh my God. No, I didn’t think.’ I mean, it’s not my responsibility, to be honest. I don’t really care. You know, ‘You’re great, but my story is my story, and if you’re a good person, then don’t worry about it.’”

Ferguson makes an excellent point, reiterating that she’s going to tell her story regardless of her former co-stars’ reactions. After all, if they are truly good people who didn’t do what she accused the mystery actor of, what do they have to be afraid of? It’s very refreshing to see her defending her right to tell her story, as it is all too common for people to make a woman’s story all about themselves or a man. Women are often pushed to apologize or struck with silencing attempts and misogynistic rants for speaking their truth. They are constantly expected to modify or toss out their stories just because someone’s feelings might be hurt or it might not paint them in the most positive light.

However, as Ferguson pointed out, there’s really no need to coddle or care about those upset by hearing the truth. Her story is her story, and it’s solely about her and a defining moment in her life. If her co-stars were scared by it or wanted to somehow make it about themselves, then that’s their problem and not Ferguson’s responsibility.

[burnwater13]

Concept art by Brian Matyas, depicts Ahsoka Tano, a female Togruta Jedi, fighting an unknown assailant with her lightsabers. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 5, The Jedi.

Din Djarin had heard rumors, stories really, of a group of monks, who were more like wizards than holy people, and they were esteemed to be the most effective enemy that those ancient Mandalorians from the stories had ever come across. After watching Ahsoka Tano fight the mercenaries the ex-Imp Magistrate had hired on Corvus, he could finally appreciate those stories. Beskar was the only way to protect yourself against their weapons and you still had to beware of their other skills. The Jedi were not to be underestimated.

It almost seemed absurd to him that Grogu had been trained by them. But then he remembered watching the mudhorn being lifted into the air on Arvala-7. It had felt like a dream. Then he recalled Cara Dune going on about how the kid had pushed the fire back onto the stormtroopers. And how Grogu had almost choked Cara when they were just arm wrestling. He had seen these events, even if pushing that fire around was more than a little hazy. His central processing unit was almost off line at the time according to IG-11. 

He understood why Ahsoka Tano thought Grogu needed to be back with the people who could help him control his powers better, but Djarin wasn’t convinced that control was really Grogu’s issue. Grogu had controlled that mudhorn just fine. But maybe he needed more experience with threat assessment? Arm wrestling shouldn’t have been something that triggered Grogu, but it had. Djarin understood how that could happen and he’d counseled Grogu after it happened about why it shouldn’t happen again. Was that really something only another Jedi could do?

He didn’t know. He was conflicted. He couldn’t imagine Grogu handling those laser swords that Ahsoka had with anything like the ease she displayed. Grogu was so small. How would that even work? But then, he never expected Grogu to pick up that mudhorn either. How had that worked? 

He heard Ahsoka Tano say something about the Force, but what did that really mean? An energy field? How would Grogu connect to an energy field? She also said to wield it Grogu needed training and discipline. Well, he’d used it more than once, so the training he had must have been sufficient. Things hadn’t gone flying all over the place, so the kid had enough discipline. Again, what Grogu needed was more experience with judgment. The when do you do something, versus how to do something or even how much of a thing to do. Grogu seemed to understand the what and how much, particularly after the talk about hurting Cara Dune, already. 

What the Mandalorian did know was that he wasn’t the right person to help Grogu, not just because he hadn’t even been able to figure out that the kid’s name was Grogu, but because he hadn’t even worried about Grogu having a name. What kind of guardian did that? Didn’t care that you had a name and then just called you a series of short hand names that made sense to you but must have seemed insulting or just ridiculous to him? That’s right, Din Djarin had been that kind of guardian and he wasn’t very happy with himself. 

Ex-Imps kept coming out of the wood-work looking for Grogu and the Mandalorian hadn’t really considered why that was the case. He wasn’t used to having a bounty turn into a dependent, but then Grogu wasn’t really a dependent either. They just didn’t know much about each other and now, thanks to meeting Ahsoka, Djarin was becoming painfully aware of how much he didn’t know and likely would never understand about Grogu and how he was raised. Ignorance might have been better, all things considered. 

“I will test him in the morning.”

Ahsoka had said that and then the following morning she ran her test. Then she had the Mandalorian run the same test. Then she told him she couldn’t train Grogu because they were too attached to each other. What the actual… Dank Farrik!

He wasn’t surprised at that. He wasn’t even upset with her response. He just didn’t know how he was going to explain to the Armorer that he’d changed his mind, countermanded her orders, and decided to keep Grogu and raise him, himself. Of course, he’d barely managed to raise himself and he hadn’t really gotten any better at that over the years. He didn’t think the Armorer was going to agree with him at all and for good reason.

He made all sorts of mistakes with Grogu already and he didn’t want to keep making them. But he had to admit that he had grown attached to the youngling. His smile. His giggle. The way he walked. The things he would present to the armored human as if they were either the most precious or most delicate items he’d ever found. The collection of pebbles, feathers, credits, fasteners, and partially crushed flowers continued to grow and Djarin had to come up with new places to stash it all so Grogu wouldn’t stop collecting it. 

He liked those tiny, daily presents more than he wanted to admit out loud, which is what he would have to do to convince the Armorer that his central processing unit wasn’t completely defective. It had been a long time since he’d had anyone in his life do that for him and he didn’t want to give that up. He felt connected to Grogu in a way he hadn’t felt toward most of the people he knew and worked with over the years. They were just people he knew because he needed them to provide information for his work or come along quietly so he could earn credits for the care of foundlings he’d never met. 

He spent most of his waking hours by himself in the Razor Crest on his way to collecting his next bounty. Lonely wasn’t the right word. Disconnected was. That’s why Grogu mattered to him in a way he’d never expected. Ahsoka Tano had called it an attachment, but Din Djarin felt the connection and if the Force was an energy field that connected all living things, well, then he felt the Force and he liked it, almost as much as he liked Grogu’s giggle.

This is the way.

[bisluthq]

It’s wild to me there are STILL timmy fans desperate to pretend he’s not into insta models and kylie’s exact vibe (not talking about the established weirdos like club chalamet but generally normie fans). I get he had an air of intellectual about him when he first cultivated his brand but it feels like they really took that and ran 50 miles because I do not understand how you watch videos from dune 2 or b&a promo and come away with the impression that he’s like that. His dating history also doesn’t suggest the vibe these girlies are desperate to project onto him. The zendaya shippers are the strangest to me because taking away the tom of it all, she came across as actively distancing herself from him during dune 2 promo and didn’t seem impressed at all by him lol. I don’t think there’s even that many cute moments to mine between them.

Right!???? And I’m not saying this critically of Timmy because I don’t think he’s a moron at all lol - he’s clearly fuck clever seeing as how he’s by far the biggest Gen Z/Zelennial movie star that’s emerged and that’s not just based on luck right, the man is fuck clever. And he’s a very talented actor.

he also likes very basic looking girls. He has pretty much only ever dated insta models or girls whose backup career would be insta modeling. That’s okay lol. That’s what he likes.

I also wanna say that Kylie is fuck clever too. They’re both very focused on brand and money and yes their brands don’t align well on paper but their vibes do and their personalities do and it’s like anti PR? I’m sure she wishes she had an athlete or someone who could shill her shit with her but could understand her like he does and support her and love her and whatnot and I’m sure he wishes he had a girl who looked exactly like that and was as mercenary and calculating and smart as her and didn’t have kids and had a more highbrow image but love transcends branding and it’s actually very cute that two of the most calculating and careful people in entertainment fell for each other so completely against every capitalistic instinct in their body and are making it work?? Marx would be kinda proud.

Zendaya is not interested in him lol and neither is Saoirse and neither is Tayruss but it was his job to sell that they could be and clearly he did and like he’s not interested in any of them either so it’s totally mutual lol. This man is very good at his job and making money off of that job and also very into Kylie Jenner idk what to tell people.

[all-the-things-2020]

Deeds Not Less Valiant

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Tala Pavan)

Rating: PG-13

CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Din and Grogu have a small adventure.

Din didn’t mind the walk home from town. He could have bought a speeder bike — there was always a cheap one available somewhere — but the cabin wasn’t that far outside of town and walking was good exercise. It also gave him a chance to talk with Grogu; or rather, talk at Grogu. He had a good rapport with the child, and he’d always found talking a bit overrated, but he envied those like Tala and Skywalker and Ahsoka who could communicate with him nonverbally. 

“You like her?,” he asked. Grogu made an affirmative sound. “Good. I like her, too.” Grogu arched an eyebrow and let one ear tip fall. “Not like that. I mean, she seems like a good person, and she puts up with you.”  

Truth be told, he found his feelings for Tala a bit confusing. He had always worked well with women. Unlike some males, he did not see them as inferior in combat or any other sphere of life. The Armorer was the most honorable person he’d ever known, and Lady Bo-Katan had her faults, but she was a born leader. Marshall Dune was fierce, but fair, and as for Fennic Shand … he’d certainly hesitate to cross her or anyone she cared about. He respected and liked them all, but had never seen them as girls. 

Din liked girls. He remembered a day during his training when one of his fellow apprentices had confessed that he “liked” boys, and Din had thought carefully about this and come to the conclusion that he “liked” girls. He’d just never done anything about it. The less combative forms of interaction with the opposite gender were a foreign concept to him. He could fight a woman, fight alongside a woman, make a deal with a woman, even kill a woman if she was his enemy, but he’d never dated a woman. It just seemed frivolous to him, and besides, how many non-Mandalorian women would understand a man who couldn’t eat or drink with them? Dating involved dinners and picnics and other social events that were difficult, if not impossible, for one who followed The Way so religiously. And while he knew many people who were willing to pay (or be paid) for physical affection, he had never felt comfortable going that route. 

Grogu gave him the side eye. “Okay, so maybe a little bit like that,” Din admitted. “But don’t tell her. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. This is about you, not me. It’s good for you to be around someone who shares your abilities, even just a little bit. She can teach you things I can’t.”

Grogu nodded and took another bite of his namba patty. Din’s stomach growled, but he ignored his hunger. He could eat when they returned home and he’d put Grogu down for a nap. The namba patty smelled delicious, though, much better than the ration bar he’d wolf down at home. This is the Way, he reminded himself. He would eat in solitude, removing his helmet just long enough to refuel his body. Quick foods were best. 

His mind wandered to the stories Axe Woves and some of the other less strict Mandalorians told of the traditional foods their families had prepared, before the Purge. Things so spicy that anyone not raised Mandalorian would have a hard time stomaching them. Rich, meaty stews. Hearty casseroles brimming with peppers. Fruit studded cakes … His stomach growled again, louder.

Grogu broke off a piece of . his namba patty and held it out. “Da.”  When Din ignored him, he waggled the food and repeated his command. “Da! Patu.”

“Thank you,” Din said reluctantly. He took the morsel of food and slipped it under the bottom of his helmet, careful to expose as little of his chin as possible. As usual, Grogu tilted his head to peek, but there was nothing to see. Din was very careful about that. The namba was delicious, and Din wished he had bought two patties. He could have saved his for home, and eaten it almost as quickly as a ration bar. 

Grogu broke off another bite and offered it, but Din shook his head. “No, you eat it. I have food at home.”

Grogu made a face that indicated his thoughts on ration bars. Still, he shoved the namba into his own mouth and seemed content. “Look, jorga birds!” Din drew the child’s attention to a flock of the yellow creatures that were migrating through the area this time of year. They were rare, but beginning to flourish now that Karga had designated a portion of the land to the south of town as farmland and wetland. Slowly but surely, Nevarro was transforming into a place many different creatures could call home. 

“Ja,” Grogu said, solemnly watching the birds fly overhead. Din wondered what he was thinking inside that tiny green head. Tala could tell me. He dismissed that thought. No use being envious of a talent he could never have, and Tala was not a tool for him to use. She was a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

******************************************

When they reached the cabin, Din found the message light blinking on his terminal. “Play inside until I’ve watched this,” he told Grogu as he set him on the ground. The child toddled off toward the small box of toys (many of which were just pieces of junk the kid had taken a shine to) that sat in the corner of the main room. 

Din pressed the playback button. The blue tinged image of Captain Carson Teva appeared. “Got a job for you, if you want it,” Teva said with no preamble. “We’ve heard rumors about a warlord funneling arms to some very shadowy figures who might be Imperial sympathizers. No proof, of course, so the New Republic won’t do anything. But if someone were to go after him, say because of a rumored bounty on his head, he might be willing to talk to save his own skin. I’ve attached the details. Teva out.”

Din quickly reviewed the information. Garan Vookto was a Duros on Prallti who did a brisk trade in legal and illegal goods. He had a network of operatives spread across the planet but his personal retinue was small, in keeping with the low profile he cultivated. A modest compound, more personal servants than bodyguards … Vookto was complacent. 

“Hey, kid, want to go hunting?”

Grogu dropped the ball he was holding and pricked up his ears. 

******************************************************

Din swept Vookto’s compound with his binocs. One guard sitting in the shade next to the main entrance. A security droid mounted over the back door. “Piece of cake,” he said softly. Grogu cooed hopefully. Kid was always hungry. “Not literally. But we’ll get you a snack once we’re through. There were some food stalls a few blocks back.”

Grogu nodded. He was tucked into his hover pram, which gave him maximum mobility and protection while they were on the hunt. Din checked the electronic tether that would keep the pram within a set distance from his armor and loosened the blaster on his hip. He still missed his amban rifle but he had feelers out for a new one. “Let’s go.”

They moved quickly and quietly to the back door. Din nodded and Grogu used his powers to throw a rock on the opposite side of the alley. The security droid swiveled to track the movement and Din blasted the connection on the back of its mechanism. The lights faded as the droid drooped. It was merely damaged, not destroyed.

At the door, Din slapped a lockpicker module on the keypad and after a few high speed rounds of beeps, the door slid open. He and Grogu slipped inside, heads swiveling as they surveyed the interior. Grogu gave a little grunt and pointed to the left. His ears must have picked up something. Din nodded and signaled for Grogu to follow closely.

A few meters down the hall, Din could hear what had drawn Grogu’s attention. Music was playing and someone was half humming, half singing along. Water splashed now and then. Could they really have caught Vookto in the bath? He held up his hand, indicating he wanted Grogu to wait. Then he walked silently down the hall until he reached a door. Once glance at Grogu, a quick nod, and he tapped the door release.

“Not now, Om’sara. I’m only halfway through the first movement of the concerto.”

“I think you’re done,” Din said, stepping through the door, blaster trained on Vookto. The Duros’ red eyes blinked twice and he dropped his sponge into the water with a splash.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” Vookto reached for a button on the vanity table beside the bed. 

Din shook his head and gestured with the blaster. “Don’t even think about it,” he said quietly. “I have you covered and my associate is outside in the hall. Your guard wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Vookto’s skin paled a bit and the distinctive smell of Durosian oil filled the air. That was the worst thing about frightening a Duros; their oil sacs filled and it took a long time to get the smell out of one’s nostrils. “What do you want?” Vookto’s voice was strained.

“Well,” said Din, relaxing his stance a bit, cocking one knee, “I could simply take you in and collect the bounty, but I’ve heard some interesting rumors about you. Things that the New Republic might be curious to find out. And to be honest, they pay better than the guy who put a price on your head.”

Vookto shifted in the bath, the water sloshing against the rim. “You want names,” he said. 

Din nodded. “Names, locations … anything you can give me that will net me more credits than your stinking hide.”

“I can’t help it,” Vookto hissed. “It’s an involuntary reaction.”

Din waved the blaster impatiently. “Look, give me something worth my time, or you’re coming with me.”

Vookto sighed. “Very well. Just … let me get dried off and dressed.”

Din shook his head. “Names. Locations. Now.” He pulled a voice recorder out of his pouch with his free hand and pressed the record button with his thumb.

Vookto rattled off several names, then paused. Din signaled him to continue. Another deep sigh and Vookto spat out a few more names. “That’s all I know,” he said. “I swear.”

“It’ll do,” Din said, clicking off the recorder. “Come on in, Grogu.”

The hover pram drifted into the doorway behind him. Grogu wrinkled his nose. “Poo,” he said.

Vookto’s eyes widened. “That’s your associate? Are you kidding me?”

Din holstered his blaster. “Young Grogu is a Mandalorian apprentice. I’m teaching him the ropes. We’ve done all right so far.” He tossed the recorder to Grogu, who neatly caught it and stowed it in his pram. Din inclined his head toward Vookto. “If you don’t mind, give us five minutes to clear out before you notify your bodyguard. And if I were you, I’d call the droid repairman after that. Your security droid is in need of repair.” 

He turned and walked quickly out of the bath and down the hall, Grogu floating smoothly behind him.

**********************************************************

Tala knew when Din and Grogu had arrived long before the chime at her door. Grogu was mentally shouting :Neeli! Good kitty!: and :Tala! Lots to tell!:

“Someone’s excited,” she said as she opened the door and Grogu bounced into her arms. 

“He’s been saying ‘Nee’ and ‘Ta’ all the way here,” Din said. “And I’m sure he wants to tell you all about his latest adventure.”

:Blue man in a bathtub. And he was stinky!:

“A stinky blue man in a bathtub? Am I hearing him right?”

Din grunted. It might have been a laugh. “We had some business with a Duros. A minor warlord who we surprised in the bath. I must have startled him.”

“I’ll bet you did,” Tala said, suppressing a laugh of her own as she got an image from Grogu of Din standing over the tub, blaster in hand. “I didn’t realize you took Grogu along when you … do whatever it is you do.”

:Hunting.: Grogu supplied helpfully. 

“I do some freelance work for the New Republic,” Din said. “I used to be a bounty hunter, but that was a bit too dangerous with a youngling in tow. I also work for High Magistrate Karga now and then.”

It wasn’t much of an answer, but Tala sensed it was all she was going to get from him at the moment. Besides, Grogu would supply more than enough details for her to get a clearer picture. She still wasn’t quite sure what side of the law Din Djarin operated on — more likely he straddled the line — but that wasn’t her concern. She was just the babysitter. She certainly couldn’t get into trouble for that.

“Speaking of Greef, I should be going. Be good, kid.” Din patted Grogu’s head.

:Always good: Grogu protested. 

“I bought some snacks for him, and Neeli has a new toy that will keep them both busy for a while. He’ll be fine. Enjoy your meeting.”

Din nodded, his helmet reflecting the light from her window, blinding her for a brief moment. Then he was gone. Tala put Grogu on the floor, and he immediately toddled off, calling “Nee!” Neeli was perched on the back of the sofa, where she had been warily eyeing the big shiny man. When Tala had adopted her, the shelter worker had warned her that the tooka was shy around men; perhaps she’d been mistreated by one in her past. Now she leapt down and tackled Grogu, who giggled with delight as the cat playfully kicked at him with her hind legs. Neeli was a fierce hunter if any small vermin entered the house, but she was gentle with Tala and Grogu, keeping her claws retracted and pulling her punches. 

Tala watched them tumble around on the floor. She should get started on folding the laundry she’d done that morning, or scrubbing out the sink, but instead her thoughts drifted to Din. She didn’t know much about Mandalorians; no one did, really, except for the Mandalorians themselves. She knew they were warriors, that weapons figured heavily in their religion, that their armor held great significance. She’d also heard rumors around town that Din never removed his helmet, not even for the High Magistrate. 

:Hungry:

Grogu looked up at her expectantly. Neeli sat beside him, her tail curled neatly over her paws. A couple of little beggars. Tala laughed. “Okay, snack time. Blue fruit for you and tooka biscuits for you.”

:Blue fruit!: Grogu’s eyes were shining. :That’s the best:

“There was a sale this week, and I remembered you like them,” she said. “But don’t expect them every time. Your dad was right; they are expensive.” She pulled a bowl of the plump little fruits from the cooling chamber and the box of biscuits from the cupboard. 

Once Grogu and Neeli had finished their snacks, Tala brought out the new toy. It was simple, just a bit of synth fur tied to a string attached to a long stick, but Neeli was crazy for it. Tala showed Grogu how to use the stick to make the puff of fur move like a tiny prey creature, and soon Neeli was jumping and pouncing and leaping like a madbeast while Grogu squealed with excitement. :Best toy ever!:

She accomplished a few chores in between watching their escapades, and by the time Neeli was panting and ready to retreat to her basket, she felt she’d done enough not to feel guilty about snuggling up with Grogu for more story time.

:Finish about the bone witch: he demanded. 

“Okay, but only if you tell me about the stinky man in the bathtub when I’m done.”

Grogu nodded firmly. :That’s a good story. It has Dad in it.:

“So Hanta and Greema crept slowly along the side of the castle, searching for a way in …”

Grogu curled against her, his eyes and ears drooping, until she heard a tiny little snore. “Neeli tuckered you out, didn’t she, little guy?” Actually, a nap didn’t sound too bad. She closed her eyes, just for a moment.

***********************************

Din was concerned when he pressed the door chime and there was no answer. He used his lockpicker to open the door, hand on his blaster just in case. It only took a moment to realize why Tala hadn’t answered the door. She and Grogu were asleep on the couch, while the tooka was curled up in a basket on a high shelf. Probably wore them both out, he thought. Grogu was certainly a handful at times. 

“Kid,” he said softly. Grogu’s ears pricked up.

“Da,” Grogu said quietly, tipping his head toward Tala. Her head was slumped awkwardly onto her shoulder, her mouth slightly open, loose strands of hair standing out around her face. She would probably be appalled at Din seeing her like that, but he thought she looked nice. Relaxed. Comfortable. 

“Wake her up quietly,” he whispered. Grogu nodded and laid a hand gently on Tala’s arm. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at Grogu. Din amended his assessment. Beautiful, he thought, before dismissing the idea. 

“Oh, hi,” she said, turning toward him. Her brow furrowed. “How did you get in?”

“Lockpicker,” Din admitted. “You didn’t answer my chime so I was worried …”

She smiled. “Of course. Sorry about falling asleep on the job, but he looked so cozy.”

Grogu bounced to the floor, picking up a long stick with a bit of fur tied to it by a long string. “Nee,” he babbled.

“Neeli’s new toy,” Tala explained. “They had an intense play session.”  

Din nodded. “Did you feed him?” He bent to pick Grogu up, gently prying the toy from his hand.

“He had some fruit but that was a while ago. He’s probably hungry again.” She paused, her head tilted. “Make that definitely hungry again.”

“We’ll pick something up on the way home. Do you need more money for snacks? For next week?” He knew he should be going, but he was reluctant to end the conversation. 

She shook her head. “I’m good. The fruit was on sale so I have plenty left.” She tucked some stray hair behind her ear. “Maybe … maybe next week we can all have lunch together. After your meeting.”

Din stiffened. “I always eat alone,” he said. He saw her disappointment. “But thank you for the offer.” Grogu’s ears drooped a little. “We should be going.”

“Yes, yes, of course. See you next week.” Tala squeezed Grogu’s hand and gave him a smile. 

“Ta,” the youngling said.

When they were outside, Grogu gave him a Look. “You know I can’t take the helmet off, kid,” Din told him. “Not even around you.” Grogu’s ears drooped a bit further and he gripped Din’s finger tightly. “This is the Way.”

“Di da da wa,” Grogu said solemnly.

[13thpythagoras]

why Dune is crap

Tolkein and this English lit scholar explain my pov quite well

"

Martin Turner · BA in English Literature and Language, University of Oxford (Graduated 1988)

Tolkien stated “I dislike DUNE with some intensity,” but he did not give a reason why.

However, you don’t need to look far—only as far as Tree and Leaf—to understand Tolkien’s views on story and artistry.

Tolkien was interested in stories that were good for their own sake. Even in dark moments, the story should be a delight to the reader. By Tolkien standards, Dune is quite gratuitous in its bloodthirstiness, violence and corruption. Herbert takes a positive delight (it would seem) in describing the debauchery of the Harkonnens.

On a similar level, Tolkien always wrote in a way which was suitable for children. He discusses this in Tree and Leaf. He did not see any benefit in filling out his stories with sex and gore.

Tolkien’s world is ultimately a world of grace and kindness. These, to Tolkien, were the marks of the true hero, of whom Gandalf and Aragorn were the contrasting pinnacles. These are qualities almost entirely absent from Dune, which is much more focussed on power and revenge. This is somewhat like the difference between Shakespeare and Webster. The Duchess of Malfi has a very similar milieu to Dune. Tolkien’s own heroes were Gawain and Beowulf, rather than Machiavelli.

Tolkien describes world-building as an imaginative journey. He discusses the difference between simply writing ‘the green sun’ and thoroughly imagining it. To him, the imagination was the main thing. Dune, by contrast, is ‘Lawrence of Arabia in space’. Herbert was reportedly[1][2] very taken by the film,[3]and transplants the milieu wholesale into a science-fiction setting.[4][5] To Tolkien, this was an unacceptable shortcut. Remember that he criticised his friend CS Lewis for borrowing and mixing in Narnia. Herbert’s method is far more heinous, from a Tolkien point of view.

Tolkien loved language. He plays with it endlessly, and there is an extraordinary sound to his prose if you read it aloud. Herbert has a superficial reference to multiple languages, such as Chakobsa, but it is quite evidently that of the non-linguist.

Tolkien didn’t like preachy writing. It wasn’t just allegory he was opposed to. Dune is full of little asides telling us about ideal societies, and what it means to be human. It would have grated Tolkien on most pages.

Tolkien did not like modernism. Dune is a child of modernism in a much clearer way than, say, Foundation or Islands in the Sky. Its philosophy is a blend of existentialism, proto-New-Ageism, nihilism and rationalist scepticism. All of these would have seemed barren to Tolkien, and Herbert lets them go unchallenged.

Tolkien is concerned with heroes. Dune is concerned with anti-heroes. Herbert is quite explicit about this: “Here lies a toppled god / his fall was not a small one / we did but build his pedestal / a narrow and a tall one” (Tleilaxu epitaph, Dune Messiah).

Above everything, Dune had been very publicly compared to and described as the science-fiction equivalent of The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien would have been aghast to see what people thought was an equivalent to his writing, which was opposite in almost every respect.

Ultimately, Dune is full of the things that Tolkien detested, and having the book described as the equivalent of his own book must have irked him deeply.

Footnotes

[1] 

“Going Native” with Dune’s Paul Atreides

[2] 

Dune, 50 years on: how a science fiction novel changed the world

[3] 

Dune (1984) - IMDb

[4] 

Interview with Frank Herbert and Beverly Herbert by Willis E. McNelly

[5] 

Frank Herbert’s Dune and the Dune Series

"

Watching Dune is like watching a documentary of gratuitous violence rather than an actual story, even the director of Dune (2021) states this, Denis Villeneuve: "I tried to do a sci-fi movie like a documentary." [Nerds of Color]

Calling Dune punk-anything is like calling Godzilla a rom-com...

Dune's white savior complex is stinging and constant, and there is no defense, even as we see director Villeneuve attempt to defend on this point as:

"There is a storytelling trope called the White Savior where a Caucasian will go into a foreign land and act as a rescuer or messianic figure to the indigenous people there. And Herbert’s work has been criticized for falling into that trope. So how do you contemporize the story to avoid falling into the problematic areas that trope may potentially present?

That’s a very important question. And it’s why I thought Dune was, the way I was reading it, a critique of that [trope]. It’s not a celebration of a savior. It’s a condemnation and criticism of that idea of a savior. Of someone that will come and tell another operation how to be and what to believe… it’s a criticism. That’s the way I feel it’s relevant and can be seen contemporary. And that’s what I’ll say about that. Frankly it’s the opposite [of that trope]." -[Nerds of Color]

Is it though? It seemed to me like Paul Atreites frees the fremen and re-establishes his dynasty, this time as ruler of the universe. How is that anything except a huge shining perfect example of the white savior complex? Villeneuve and Herbert just kind of wave their hands and say "ehh it's the opposite" and walk off from the topic, and I'm just over here with an actual soul, left wondering, what in the goddamn fuck was that gaslighting?

Villeneuve and Herbert are like "Well it didn't end well for Paul, we fucked him up pretty bad in the end so therefore it's a critique of the white savior model"

and I'm just over here like,

you can't just kill the white savior and assume he's gone and you're rid of it, the Romans tried that and it didn't work out for them...LMAO fuck dune... sorry not sorry!! Long live liberty, democracy, education, justice, and Tolkien, not that glorification of fascist racist bullshit called Dune. /rant

[humanoidtyphoons]

“frank herbert’s romance skills have degraded”

FALSE! ACTUALLY! the man has actively avoided writing romance for most part, bc he’s not good at it

here’s the thing about leto/jessica and paul/chani, they’re established. leto/jessica are all but married in name, but anytime frank herbert writes about how leto never doubted jessica, or that jessica still misses leto, my heart explodes, bc these two loved. likewise, frank herbert did a time skip so he didn’t have to write the actual romance of paul/chani, but at the same time, you know it’s preordained and paul was constantly initially thinking ‘is she who i truly want or is this just the future path these visions are telling me to choose’, but then you get paul/chani feelings massively in dune messiah, where paul constantly frets and worries about chani dying through childbirth, but still still still, chani’s presence is the only thing that soothes away his fears

frank herbert is v. good at writing established relationships, idk what to tell you. they moved me. how he described two people in love.

alia/hayt is freaking weird, but interesting to think about. but  i think bc they’re both in such interesting thresholds that no one else can relate to, and even that confuses and frustrates alia bc she doesn’t understand herself here either, so that when alia breaks down crying and goes please don’t leave me hayt, you kind of. you get why alia clung to hayt.

then there’s ~most of duncan idaho ghola romances~ which are always like. oh she reminds me of jessica. which i hate, but it’s also just. my god man. you can stop now.

then there’s leto ii/hwi and duncan/murbella which frank is like. CHEMICALLY DESIGNED TO LOVE EACH OTHER. that’s romance for you, frank says! they’ll seduce each other and be traps of their own making that will be their own downfall! genetically programmed for each other!!!!

and like. frank. buddy.

that’s weird as hell. maybe conceptually interesting, but you’ve done nothing to actually endear me to them as a romance -- even tho, granted, he won me over with leto ii/hwi (maybe bc i wanted leto ii to be happy, and hwi does actually achieve that), but like. duncan idaho ghola. i don’t think you can sell me on duncan idaho ghola romances for most part.

[flames-memory]

**__Wednesday__**

So, that’s now. I’m almost done with this drone work. I took this job to get some downtime from BLP. Make some money Kass wouldn’t be looking for. They all kept telling me to make an account, set up auto pays, blah blah blah. I didn’t pay her since that first payment, cuz I only pay cash, and I never delivered the rest! Still, I’m keeping the job. It’s good to be busy and normal for a good part of the day. Well, night. Also good for me. Fewer people.

Max and I will be meeting up later. He’s schedule is different, so late for me. I’m going to go make a cute outfit, so he’ll smile when he sees me. BC Promised to hang out with me before hand, so really, I’m the luckiest. I can’t wait.

**__Movie Night__**

Either Max was early, or I misunderstood. I managed a cute outfit, and went up to chill blueside for a bit. Ran into Stormy and Rad. Steph showed, and I got a little girlie outfit approval, and thanked Steph for the Banana Bread. (BC made a sandwich with it... O,o wth lmao I love her so much)

I met up with Max, and we watched Dune 2 at the cinema by Afterhours. He was so handsome, all shirt and tie heh.

We talked about BC. I don't want to hurt him. He seems to understand, at least in general terms of thers's romantical hijinks afoot wit both of them, and they mean... just everything to me.

Makes me think about Jay, and the other "options" I might have, but I don't know that I want or need anyone else. I guess if I meet someone, and like Max and BC, I'll love them or not. I didn't pick Max, or BC, I just love them, like it or not.

So I'm going to just be happy now, and not "look". Not for "love". I want to look for friends, and find love if it's there. Like with Max and BC.

So, many jokes, much sugar, and several (not enough) kisses later, and I'm pretty sure I saw MOST of the movie. Sitting in Max's lap, well, almost, cuddling with him. No pressure or expectations. Just happy sweet love. Again... like nothing I've done... maybe ever. I mean, even in high school, I don't think I ever felt anything like that. In my experience, Rogue Isles boys were not... romantic.

I guess they gotta come from a powerful crime family to come out as nice as Max

He kissed me good night, at my doorstep. Such an amazing night. I didn't know I could have moments like that.

I shared this with BC... I'm glad she can read what I'm thinking here, understand me better. I messed up so badly there, I want to know she understands, that I haven't used the wrong words somehow, and said things wrong... or save her have to listen to too many long speeches about feelings, heh.

But I forgot about the pictures. I forgot I mentioned them. I don't mind so much that she knows. I hope she never has to see them. To see me like that. I wasn't ashamed when it happened, exactly, but I also didn't ask her to take them, and I certainly didn't ask her to sell them online. At first, I was kind of impressed at the amount of money. That seemed strange. Who pays a bunch of money for porn pictures?

I tried to get back in and get them from the server, but I couldn't access it. I'm not a hacker, what can I say.

And Now.. BC says she's going to get rid of them. Please.. don't let her get hurt, or get in trouble.

I worry, just a little.. that if Kass knows I'm worried about them, that if I draw any attention to them, she might get ideas. Might do something... but really, that's probably not going to happen. Kass would have to FEEL something, feel anger, feel resentment, over me. And I don't believe she has any such strong feelings, not for me. Fearing that drama is just ego, some sick part of me that wants Kass to be mad, to be hurt, to feel something over me leaving, but I don't believe it. Not really. Besides, I'd rather she just forgot all about me. If she did feel something, BC or Max might get hurt, and I don't want that, not for any reason.

[hausofmamadas]

So I watched this silly lil movie on the suchest of larks like i can’t even lie when I saw the trailer in theaters they played it for Dune 2 bc Alamo Drafthouse understood the Austin Butler assignment I was pretty much, “oh that movie gonna be dumb asf” and now my psyche’s being taken hostage by yet another criminally underused side character and yet im grateful for the scraps bc that Side-Character FreeRealEstate never fails to produce wonderful treets like this

═

The best and worst thing was that everyone was just somebody who knew somebody.

Oh okay so you’re gonna start this off with some musical, lyrical words of poetry music to mine eyes and ears, here, right out the gate, okay i see how this is i understand I’m a goner now, sick

They’d ask, understandably so he supposed, why some kid who had to hang onto the back of someone else for dear life had his own set of colors to wear.

LOLALSKDFJSKDJFKSJ THSI SFUCKING MENTAL IMAGE IC ANNOTTTS SDKS the way this hadn’t even occurred to me like he doesn’t have his own bike so how tf did he get all the bike pics like i know irl danny lyon actually was a club member and had his own bike but the movie really was giving very much “im a tourist” in terms of danny’s involvement but arguably a more important question to be asking ourselves and Ofc the first think I started asking myself next bc i am a child is whose bike was he on. My vote’s for cal bc i feel like there's a solid argument to be made that he's prob the least no-homo about it, yknow i mean dude’s californian by way of canada so like he seems most apt to be marginally secure in his masculinity skjdk 

“He’s a friend of ours. Good kid.’’

“He takes pictures—can’t ride and take pictures at the same time, now can he?”

“He’s one’a us, the fuck’s it matter to you?”

And this is what meant by you and I on the same wavelength bc the way Johnny thinks about this kid as like fun summer pet project and refuses to take shit from anyone for letting this rando follow them around shoving a camera and/or microphone in their faces while they’re just doing trrryyyyying to enjoy the casual mud wrestling and trrrryyyying to get as piss ass drunk as possible before the sun goes down is just so correct. And idk exactly what i’m extrapolating this from bc i’m p sure danny and johnny don’t interact in the movie, not once, but still this just feels yes. 

Danny was smart enough to know that Johnny’s vague, and slightly aggressive, answers to people outside their own club probably saved his ass on more than one occasion … The frustration came from being on the receiving end of those answers that didn’t do much to answer anything. He wondered if Johnny even knew that he was doing it.

ONCE AGAINNNNGSKJD WITH THE ACCURACY BC BY GODODDFKSJKDFJ the fact that danny simultaneously recognizes the value and the limitations of johnny’s A-Few-Words-Shy-Of-An-Actual-Caveman series of nods and grunts and grumbles def seems like something he’d pick up on just by the very nature of sitting around and watching everyone. And like it’s true, like when Johnny talks, he never really says anything …? Zksjdfk and I don’t mean that as shade, it’s just true skdjsk 

“I got a question.” Johnny chuckled. “You always do. That’s kinda your whole thing.” “Yeah. Not, um,” he cleared his throat, “not for the book.” Johnny’s eyebrows shot up at that … 

SSKSKSKSKSyou always do that’s kinda your whole thing, is so Johnny, I’m like scrubbing the movie to make sure this interaction didn’t actually happen bc i can legit hear it so fucking clearly and am lowkey mad that wasn’t an exchange that was in the film bc robbery and theft

Danny nodded to show that he was paying attention, hoping that it would get Johnny to keep talking. He should’ve known better than to hope for that, since Johnny only ever seemed to carry a conversation in three-to-eight-word segments before passing the baton back off again.

AGAINSKSKJK just these subtle little roasts in his head about Johnny’s verbal capacity skdjk got me nodding my head vigorously bc yes, 1000% spot on characterization for both of these guys, i’m kissing it, i’m stomping it into the pavement, i’m chucking it across a field in a spiral like a football, i’m snapping it with my fingers in a z-formation, i’m bowing at it’s altar, you get it

“She’s sweet,” Betty said, still looking at Johnny. Danny turned and looked at her. “What?” Betty finally looked up at him, giving a small nod. “She’s a nice girl.”

PFFTKSJFKSJNOOOOOOSTOPPSDKSJ BC OFC BETTY, PRESUMABLY THE LONE WOMAN IN A 30 YARD RADIUS,  WOULD PICK UP ON THE BODY LANGUAGE AND SUBTEXT OF DANNY ASKING THE QUESTION AND SIMULTANEOUSLY HAVE THE GRACE NOT TO LOOK AT HIM AS SHE’S LETTING HIM KNOW SHE KNOWS, YKNOW?

They’d chat sometimes, but never with a microphone between them. The conversation they were having now felt even more off the record.

It is kinda crazy danny got so many interviews with Kathy but none with Betty, like he seemingly never interacts with her or Johnny, i just now noticed that and once again, i cry robbery bc why were we deprived so except oh wait, here tay is supplying us all with the nutrition we require

“If you want to know what her deal is, I’d suggest you ask her.” There was a levity to her tone that had Danny smiling despite the blush warming his cheeks. He cracked a full grin at that. “Yeah, maybe.”

GODDSKJDFSKJ I CAN SEE THIS SO OOOOOSOSODFSOOOOOO CLEARLY IN MY HEAD bc no i could talk about this for a trillion years, bc on of the first things taht drew me to danny as a character in the first place is the way he somehow manages to be kinda laid back, even a little shy without seeming like a doormat or a pushover? Or tbh like a complete wimp Like he’s not overly brimming with self-importance or charisma but there is something so disarming about him, like a reserved sorta confidence maybe? and like it makes sense how else do you convince a group of 1960s blue collar greasers to let you follow them around on their bikes for 3 years and not be soemwhat charming/disarming, right But there’s def …. Idk i hesitate to say awkwardness, bc that even seems too harsh but like there’s a reservedness to him that is captured so accurately in this exchange here. Like he’s embarrassed but he’s also not pretending like he’s not embarrassed or that he’s not askking what he’s asking, if that makes sense??

“Came to find your models, right?” Wahoo joked, but the proud smile on his face said that he was hoping Danny would humor him.

SKFSJK wahooo pretending like he’s not the most America's Next Top Model of the bunch, more ready for his closeup than ever is the most wahoo thing there ever was and i have no solid supporting arguments or examples for this except that it's justa absolutely what would happen imsosorrysdkfjs 

Something about the concentration on your face, the furrow of your brows, had Danny fighting the urge to pick up the lens and snap a photo of you.

HHEREREERERRRRRREEEEEEWEGOOOOOOOOOOSOKDKJFKSJ GOT ME OVER HERE SCREAMING “DO IT, DO IT, SNAP THE PIC, DO IT DANNY” BC WITH HOW CONCRETELY AND VIVIDLY YOU’VE DESCRIBED IT, YOU JUST KNOW IT’S A GREAT PHOTO WAITING TO BE TAKEN LIKE I JUST KNOW YOUR TALENT COMBINED WITH OUR BOY'S TALENT WOULD'VE PRODUCED AN AWARD WINNING PHOTO LIKE THAT ONE COUPLE AT WOODSTOCK OR THAT COUPLE KISSING IN THE PARADE AFTER WWII do yall remember that or is that just me

Danny was watching you with that little perma-grin on his face and Cal was seeing the whole entire thing.

LITTLELELKSDJFSKPERMAGRINONHISFACE IM FUCKIGNSLDKFJSLKJD INCONSOLABLE BC THAT’S FUCKING EXACLTY WHAT IT IS SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS he fr has a perma-grin like even when he's not smiling he's smiling it's in those cute lil squinty eyes

“Here,” Danny’s lighter came to life on the first try, his hand cupping to shield it from the non-existent breeze. 

As a former smoker, it’s crazy to me that you’re a non-smoker for how well you describe smoking and i know that seems like such a weird thing to pick up on but it really does go a long way in terms of immersion if you’ve ever been a regular smoker. Liek i can always tell in movies or tv shows, in terms of the actors, who’s a chronic smoker, who’s occasionally smoked, and who’s only just now for the first time lain eye on the herbal cigarette in their hand on this movie set bc they hold it in the most awkward and unnatural way like they’re an android holding a carrot and pretending to smoke, and like the last category of ppl will take me out of the story for second looking at you Taissa Farmiga in S1 of american horror story sksksksk it doesn’t ruin it ofc but for a split second i’ll remember this is A Movie or A Show. And I’ve found this does sorta translate to reading too, in the sense that i havne’t seen smoking written badly but there are little details like this cupping your hands around thing that I’m like “oh yeah, that is totally a thing” and like you’re so right. Wind or not, you will always find us cupping the flame like we’re lighting the fucking olympic torch in the midst of blizzard-like wind conditionsSKSKSKSK 

But there was a sweetness to his face that the rest of these guys didn’t have. Didn’t mean that they weren’t nice, of course, but living rough gave people a roughness about them.

Living rough gave people a roughness about them -> once again, pure fucking BARRRRRRSSSSS OKAYYYYYYYY we did not come here to play, I see. But also so true, like even with his little loaner vest he borrowed from Cal which i just decided now bc why not give him his spare if he’s gonna be riding on the back of his bike all the time now skdfjsk and his cigarette and sunglasses, like he looks like he’s taking a field-trip forsure skdfjskjd like he’s vacationing at livng rough, these guys are permanent residents KSKSS

Danny laughed, shoulders relaxing at the apparent success of his introduction, even if he wasn’t really the one introducing himself.

Ngl i’m obsessed with the fact that danny’s the bug everyone wants to study with a magnifying glass, like he’s kinda a fun novelty act/sideshow/traveling exhibit to the point that he really needs no introduction, or atleast doesn’t need to make his own SKSKS 

“Like these boys don’t have big enough heads already.” Wahoo spoke up, pointing at you with no actual malice. “My head is perfectly sized.”

PFTSKJDFSKSKSJKJSSKJ THIS SHIT HAD ME CHORTLINGSKDJ BC ONCE THE FUCK AGAIN, BANTER IS SO SPOT ON

Cal gestured to the trunk of the car where you were sitting. “Sit down, man. Come on. Stay a while.” Danny chuckled and shook his head at Cal’s lack of subtlety, but he still looked over to you to see if you were going to protest it at all.

This is neither here nor there but i do have a personal hc where i decided that danny and cal are liek basically besties i.e. cal’s considered getting danny a sidecar so he doesn’t have to hang off the back of the bike and this is just furthter secondary source material that i will now be co-opting to support this thesis SKSKSKSKSK bc the fact that in addition to Betty, cal’s the only one to pick up on danny’s little crush is the most perfect, precious, undercover homie-4-lyfe behavior to me skdfjskskskskjd

Suddenly he was thinking that he should light his own cigarette just to have something to keep his hands busy. He didn’t have the security blanket of a microphone between you now.

Awwwwww i love this so much just the fact that like ofc he would feel kinda naked without the tape deck and the microphone, liek there’s no purpose in taping Reader bc it’s not book-related but danny hasn’t really had many occasions to just talk to someone for fun in this environment, like i imagine once again with no evidence or proof beyond speculating with wild and reckless abandon and maybe even just making shit up entirely, actually mostly just that everything is fodder for this particular project he’s working on even if he does enjoy the conversations he’s had. Idk i just thought that felt appropriate and Made Sense

“New York? And you decided to come here?” You motioned to Cal and Wahoo, who were now both trying to reach in and grab beer bottles for themselves while moving as little as possible. “For them?”

PAAFTSKJFSKSKSKKSKKSKSK this was the most savage but accurate roast of the guys, like i’d never fucking considered that’s what he did until reading this but taht is literally what this man did skdjfsk 

He shook his head. “I didn’t think this was an interview.” He dragged his hand down the side of his face, fingers running through his beard. “Would’ve prepared better.”

The way you just have his mannerisms down so well and describe him so effortlessly is like an actual crime ... i just wrote and ratified and passed the legislation for this actually i know, i really can do it all and have determined the commensurate punishment is solitary confinement, during which you are required to just nonstop produce danny fic to sate the inevitable physical dependence I am already, in real time, as we speak, developing. So like ……. You’re welcome and i expect a copy of the novel on my desk at noon next monday, August 47th and 29 o clock sharp. thankyouuuuuuosooiiiiiimuch 

It only took a couple seconds for Cal to get up and wander off in a completely different direction, leaving the two of you with some comment about having seen some guy with a bike that had carburetors he wanted to take a closer look at.

SKSKSKJSKJ FUCKING CALSKDFJSK like i can’t tell if this is him getting the hint or just being Cal Look-At-The-Shiny-Thing-Over-There getting fr distracted by someone’s carburetors or both but i would maybe die for him? and definitely would klll for himskdjsk 

“How long before you go back to New York?” He shrugged. “At least ‘til I finish school—got a few more years. Why?” You shook your head. “Just askin’. Making the interview go both ways.”

Making the interview go both ways and mayhaps making sure this guy is sticking around MEEETHINKSS??????? cuz lbr I know that’s exactly why I’d be asking if i were in Reader’s position skjdfks

“I almost took one of you earlier,” he confessed without thinking twice about it, “when you were trying to light your cigarette.” “Something about me lookin’ pissed off felt photo-worthy?” He was still just smiling, nodding. “Something, yeah.”

GODDFSLKDJFA;LSKJDF;ALKSJDF;LAKSJDF;LAKSJD;CLKASMJ;OASJDFOPIJASPOIFWJEPOIJK as if I couldn’t go complete fuckin institutionalization-necessary insane for this man, you somehow manage to make me love him????? More???????? Bc even tho i was screamin for him to take the picture it just occurred to me that like he prob didn’t do it bc he hadn’t asked first and something about that respect is justskdjfkljslapaspodfijp2ijoq03o turning my brain into actual soupy mush so that it's now sliding out my ears and my cats are licking it off my face now like it's a churu treat and im not even sorry for how grossly hyperbolic that is bc it's metaphorically true okay

“Photos go both ways too,” you quipped with a grin. He hesitated for a moment, but he handed his camera over to you … “Not usually on this side of the lens” … 

OKYAOKAYOKAYOKAYOKAYOKAYAYYYYYYYNOEVERYONESHUTUPFORASECOND bc I legit have a thing about this, like being on the other side of the lens, in my kath/danny thing I’m working on and shit you not, the scream I screamt as I chucked by phone across my bed like a hot potato BC THIS IS JUST SOOOOOO UM YESS??? and i wrote a similar thing of like there being a back and forth in an interview, give-and-take sorta thing and it's too hard to explain here but all of that is to say. it’s as i’ve screamt and will scream a thousand times more, this man is in. your. gotdamn. bones. ya hear 

You must’ve been lost in your thoughts long enough to make him wonder, because he gave just the tiniest tilt of his head as he laughed, and that was when you snapped the photo.

THETINIESTTILT OF HIS HEAD, BROOOOSDFKJSLDKFJLSKJDF ICAN SEE IT SO CLEARLY, I CAN SEE IT LIKE I’VE FILMED IT AND IT’S INFURIATING??????????? THAT I CAN’T BC IT SHOULD EXIST????????? 

Handing the camera back to him, you said, “Gotta let me see that one too.” Danny chuckled and nodded, red blooming across his cheeks again. “I’ll make sure of it.”

So, i assume this means pt 2 is gonna be him….. Showing them these pics as a pretense to see Reader again, right? bc…… i mean im not gonna not say i’ll be sitting here, staring into a void of nothingness waiting for you to write more of this true delight of a fic and like…… i'm also not saying this is live surveillance footage of me waiting ..............

but it is. so like no pressure, I’m just dying inside waiting, it’s totally fine no shhhhhh don’t worry about me I’m like sooiiiiiiiiiii great and well-adjusted about it

Off the Record

Danny Lyon x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, drinking, smoking, no use of "y/n"

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: thinking about danny and his cute lil smile always

The best and worst thing was that everyone was just somebody who knew somebody. Anytime a person tried to ask about anyone else, the immediate answer was just who they happened to know, or be married to, or be related to. They were always someone’s friend, some guy that this person knew.

Danny knew that it wasn’t just him that was getting those answers. He knew that people from other clubs would ask Johnny about him, ask who this kid was following them around with a microphone and a camera. They’d ask, understandably so he supposed, why some kid who had to hang onto the back of someone else for dear life had his own set of colors to wear.

Johnny always answered the questions by giving as little of an answer as possible.

“He’s a friend of ours. Good kid.’’

“He takes pictures—can’t ride and take pictures at the same time, now can he?”

“He’s one’a us, the fuck’s it matter to you?”

Danny was smart enough to know that Johnny’s vague, and slightly aggressive, answers to people outside their own club probably saved his ass on more than one occasion. He knew that, was thankful for it too. The frustration came from being on the receiving end of those answers that didn’t do much to answer anything. He wondered if Johnny even knew that he was doing it.

The crowd at the Dayton picnic was massive—bigger than any gathering that Danny had been to so far. There were plenty of people to talk to, more photo opportunities than he had rolls of film. He’d been making his rounds, making sure not to stray too far from the pack that the Vandals had shown up as.

He had the camera strap around his neck, but he didn’t let it hang and rest against his chest. He was still holding onto it, ready to lift it and snap just the right photo at just the right time if the opportunity presented itself. He was scanning the crowd for just that opportunity when he saw you. You were sitting on the closed trunk of someone’s car, maybe it was yours, not that it mattered to him right then. Your legs dangled over the edge of it, boots swinging slightly in front of the license plate. You had a beer in your hand and a grin on your face as you listened to whatever conversation was happening in front of you, the guys all sitting on the ground around one of the dozens of coolers that people had shown up with.

Danny made his way back towards the crowd, keeping you in his peripheral as he walked up to the table that Johnny was sitting on, Betty sitting on the bench in front of him between his legs. He snapped a quick photo of that before approaching to talk to him.

He slunk up to the table, leaning against it but not quite venturing to sit on it the way that Johnny was. He cleared his throat quietly first and then spoke up. “Hey, Johnny?”

Johnny turned to look at him, one hand on Betty’s shoulder, one hand holding a cigarette. “Yeah?”

“I got a question.”

Johnny chuckled. “You always do. That’s kinda your whole thing.”

Danny smiled, giving a shrug as he nodded. “Yeah. Not, um,” he cleared his throat, “not for the book.”

Johnny’s eyebrows shot up at that but he didn’t say anything. Danny couldn’t help but to notice the fact that even though most everyone else wasn’t paying attention, Betty had tuned into the conversation as well. What had originally felt like a bit of a silly question to ask, now suddenly felt much more embarrassing and he hadn’t even spat out the words yet.

He fiddled with the camera in his hands for a moment, cleared his throat again even though there was no need to. “Who’s, you know,” he nodded over in your direction, still perched so nicely on the trunk of that car, “over there on the car. With the boots and…” he trailed off before he made a fool of himself more than he already had.

Betty did him the courtesy of not looking directly at him, which is something that Danny was thankful for even if he didn’t say it. But he could tell by the smile stretching across her face that she knew exactly what was going on.

The same couldn’t be said for her husband, though. Johnny looked over at you, knit his brows in thought for a moment, and then shrugged. “Ah, she’s, you know, she’s one’a Gina’s friends I think.”

Danny nodded to show that he was paying attention, hoping that it would get Johnny to keep talking. He should’ve known better than to hope for that, since Johnny only ever seemed to carry a conversation in three-to-eight-word segments before passing the baton back off again.

“Right,” Danny said, fighting the urge to twist the strap of his camera. “What’s the—”

“Hey!” Johnny called out, cutting Danny off when he saw an argument starting to break out across the lawn. He gently patted Betty’s shoulder, a cue to let him get up. Whatever Danny was going to try and ask him became the least important thing as he took off to try and mediate the mess that was happening.

Danny stood there beside Betty, both of them watching as Johnny stalked off to try and shut down whatever it was that was happening. Considering that Corky was one half of the argument, it couldn’t have been anything too extreme. A nuisance, probably, but nothing that would result in any fists being thrown.

“She’s sweet,” Betty said, still looking at Johnny.

Danny turned and looked at her. “What?”

Betty finally looked up at him, giving a small nod. “She’s a nice girl.”

Danny nodded as he took in what Betty was saying, the look on her face. He and Betty knew each other, of course, but she didn’t ever seem too keen on interviews. He got some photos of her, some of her with Johnny. They’d chat sometimes, but never with a microphone between them. The conversation they were having now felt even more off the record.

“If you want to know what her deal is, I’d suggest you ask her.” There was a levity to her tone that had Danny smiling despite the blush warming his cheeks.

“Right. I just,” he chuckled nervously, “you know.”

Betty laughed as she grabbed the beer bottle that Johnny had been drinking out of. She took a sip before saying, “Put that microphone to good use.”

He cracked a full grin at that. “Yeah, maybe.”

They both turned to look at Johnny, and whatever the argument had been must not have been that important because it was all done and over with now. Johnny and Corky were walking back towards the table with a couple men from a different club in tow. Danny went to lift his camera up to try and snap a photo but before he could press the button, Betty spoke up.

“Go on. There’s a hundred of these guys runnin’ around here today.”

She didn’t say it, but Danny still heard the unspoken, “So use your film for something worthwhile instead,” that was thinly hidden at the end of her statement. He knew that he’d never stop kicking himself if he didn’t take her advice, because it wasn’t as though she was typically one to be doling it out to the guys in the club. So, he let his camera drop back to his chest, and gave Betty a tiny nod of thanks before turning and heading back over towards you.

The guys noticed Danny approaching before you did. Cal and Wahoo were both camped out, half-sprawled on the ground around the cooler. They were watching Danny, smiles growing as they thought up their greeting remarks. Meanwhile your focus was trained on the cigarette between your lips, or more precisely, the lighter you were trying to flick to life to light it. Something about the concentration on your face, the furrow of your brows, had Danny fighting the urge to pick up the lens and snap a photo of you.

“Look who it is,” Cal spoke up with a wave.

“Came to find your models, right?” Wahoo joked, but the proud smile on his face said that he was hoping Danny would humor him.

Danny chuckled, shaking his head. “Almost outta film. Gotta be careful with it.”

They both made sounds of offense that quickly dissolved into laughter. “This fuckin’ guy,” Wahoo muttered, shaking his head.

There was a beat of quiet, the chatter of other groups around keeping it from falling into real silence. You still hadn’t gotten the flame of your lighter to catch. Wahoo’s hazy focus had drifted to other things. Danny was watching you with that little perma-grin on his face and Cal was seeing the whole entire thing.

He chuckled, sitting himself upright, palms flat on the ground now. There was a knowing glint in his eyes. “Danny, you met—”

“Shit,” you muttered, not meaning to cut Cal off but accomplishing that anyway. You shook your head before angrily pitching your lighter as far away from you as possible. You were about to give up and shove the cigarette back into your pack too when all of a sudden there was another lighter being held up in front of you.

“Here,” Danny’s lighter came to life on the first try, his hand cupping to shield it from the non-existent breeze.

You looked at him, your skepticism shining through for a moment before you leaned forward and lit your cigarette off the tiny flame he was offering you. You nodded as you pulled away, smoke slipping from between your lips as you said, “Thanks.”

He smiled as he tucked the lighter back into his pocket. “Welcome.”

Cal spoke up, not willing to let this die out with a three-word exchange. He looked at you, dopey smile on his face. “This is the guy we were tellin’ you about. You know, making the book.”

You turned and looked at Danny then, really looked at him. Maybe you should’ve known that’s who he was. Not that you tried to make a habit of judging based off looks, but he didn’t seem quite like the rest of the guys in the club. Sure, he was wearing the colors, he had his own little gold earring in his ear, tiny bit of scruff coming in. But there was a sweetness to his face that the rest of these guys didn’t have. Didn’t mean that they weren’t nice, of course, but living rough gave people a roughness about them. Danny didn’t look like he had that.

“You’re the one makin’ these guys think they’re pretty enough to model, then?” you asked with a laugh.

Danny laughed, shoulders relaxing at the apparent success of his introduction, even if he wasn’t really the one introducing himself. “Yeah, that’s me.”

You gestured to the two men on the ground in front of you. “Like these boys don’t have big enough heads already.”

Wahoo spoke up, pointing at you with no actual malice. “My head is perfectly sized.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin as you tapped the ash off the end of your cigarette. “Why don’t you lay off the beer for a couple hours and then we’ll talk about it.”

As the laughter among you was starting to quiet, Cal gestured to the trunk of the car where you were sitting. “Sit down, man. Come on. Stay a while.”

Danny chuckled and shook his head at Cal’s lack of subtlety, but he still looked over to you to see if you were going to protest it at all. A smile curled the ends of your lips before you took another drag off your cigarette. You saw the way that his cheeks started to turn pink, but you decided that you’d be kind enough not to say anything about it. Instead, you made a small motion with your hand to the empty side of the trunk, a wordless confirmation of Cal’s invite.

He sat down next to you, camera now in his lap because of the way that the two of you were sitting. He was looking around, trying not to just stare directly at you. It was cute—so was the way that he was still holding onto his camera like he’d be ready to use it at a moment’s notice. You leaned back slightly, bracing yourself with one hand against the car while the other held your cigarette. You smiled before initiating a real introduction, something a little more informative than the commentary Danny had been greeted with. At least this way he’d actually learn your name.

“So,” you inhaled off your cigarette again before continuing, “what do you do when you’re not on the back of one of these guys’ bikes?”

Danny chuckled, looking into your eyes for a moment before he went back to looking at everything else about you too. Suddenly he was thinking that he should light his own cigarette just to have something to keep his hands busy. He didn’t have the security blanket of a microphone between you now.

“I’m in school.” He held up his camera for a moment. “Photography.”

You smiled, nodding. “Makes sense.” You pulled a final drag off your cigarette before flicking the butt of it away. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

He laughed, the tone of it asking the question of, “That obvious?” without him having to say it out loud. “No ma’am. I’m from New York.”

Your eyes widened, the last tendrils of smoke slipping past your lips and into the air as you reiterated it back to him. “New York? And you decided to come here?” You motioned to Cal and Wahoo, who were now both trying to reach in and grab beer bottles for themselves while moving as little as possible. “For them?”

The smile on Danny’s face was warm, a little bit of a sparkle in his eyes. “It’s been fun. I’m glad I’m here.” He paused. “What about you?”

You chuckled. “I’m from around here, yeah. Not, you know,” you gestured to the field, “here. But back home.”

His cheeks darkened. “Yeah, right. No, I meant, um, what do you do? When you’re not,” he mimicked your gesture from a few seconds before, “doing this.”

Whether it was because you’d been smiling so consistently, or because your smile had just kept growing, you weren’t sure, but either way you could feel the ache starting in your cheeks. It wasn’t enough to dampen your expression. “This how all your interviews go?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t think this was an interview.” He dragged his hand down the side of his face, fingers running through his beard. “Would’ve prepared better.”

“Probably still should have!” Wahoo piped up.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Make yourself useful, will ya? Grab us a couple’a beers?”

He groaned dramatically. “Gonna make me get up?”

You nudged him lightly with the toe of your boot. ��Yeah, I am.”

You let the silence stretch for as long as it needed to while Wahoo grabbed beers for both of you. He grumbled the whole time but you also caught the fact that he was trying not to laugh. It was too much fun giving each other a hard time. You were waiting for him to dramatically throw himself back onto the ground, but instead he headed off to where some more of the guys were sitting. It only took a couple seconds for Cal to get up and wander off in a completely different direction, leaving the two of you with some comment about having seen some guy with a bike that had carburetors he wanted to take a closer look at.

Once you took a swig of the beer Wahoo had handed you, you got around to answering Danny’s original question. “I work at a diner across town from The Stoplight.” You chuckled at his slightly confused expression. “That’s what I do when I’m not doin’ this.”

He laughed, nodding. “Right.” He toyed with the bottle between his hands. “How’d you meet these guys, then?” He chuckled. “They don’t seem like the diner types.”

You could feel how ridiculous and cheesy your grin was but you couldn’t stop it, either. “No, no they’re not. Not anymore, anyway.” You paused, bringing the bottle to your lips. “Gina did my nails a couple times. We got talkin’ and she asked if I wanted to grab a drink.” You laughed and shook your head at the mild ludicrousness of it all. “Didn’t think that she was gonna take me to the other side of town and into a biker bar, but it turned out alright.”

“Seems to be a common theme,” Danny commented with a soft laugh.

You shrugged. “Yeah, kind of. But I think it’s, you know, it’s ‘cause they’re just guys. They’re guys with bikes. And yeah, they’ve got,” you gently tugged on the hem of the vest he was wearing, “matching outfits and loud mufflers. But they’re alright. Just…don’t’ look it when they’re all traveling like a pack of wolves together.” You paused and saw that starry look back in his eyes again. “Now this feels more like an interview.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “No microphone. All off the record.”

“Real reassuring, thank you,” you joked, allowing your shoulder to press up against his. You paused. “How long before you go back to New York?”

He shrugged. “At least ‘til I finish school—got a few more years. Why?”

You shook your head. “Just askin’. Making the interview go both ways.”

There was a flutter in his chest when he saw your smile, the glint in your eyes. He turned his torso so that he was facing you more directly. “If we’re interviewing, then I need to take your picture.” He set the beer bottle down on the trunk and lifted the camera instead. “For the book.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting it dissolve into laughter as he brought the camera up in front of his face. “For the book, I’m sure.” You watched as he lowered the camera just slightly, enough so that he could look you in the eyes. “What do you want me to…?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want. It’s your picture.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s your book.”

“I almost took one of you earlier,” he confessed without thinking twice about it, “when you were trying to light your cigarette.”

That got a loud but genuine laugh out of you. “Something about me lookin’ pissed off felt photo-worthy?”

He was still just smiling, nodding. “Something, yeah.”

You were laughing, rolling your eyes as you rested your beer bottle on top of your leg, not caring about the condensation soaking into your jeans from the bottom of it. “You are somethin’ else.” Just as you tilted your head back up to look at him again you heard the click of the camera. Your face instantly felt warm. “Do I at least get to see it before you go sendin’ it places?”

“I’ll let you see it,” he promised with a nod.

“Alright. Guess that’s fair.” Setting your bottle off to the side, you wiped your hands off on your jeans before motioning for him to hand the camera over to you. “Let’s see that.”

“What?” he asked, a confused laugh tumbling past his lips.

“Photos go both ways too,” you quipped with a grin.

He hesitated for a moment, but he handed his camera over to you. He saw the way you were practically giddy as you held it carefully in your hands.

“Not usually on this side of the lens,” he said as his gaze diverted off for a moment.

Your smile softened. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine. You can do whatever you want, remember?”

He laughed and shook his head at you. In his time following the Vandals around, he’d come to realize just how easy it was to feel so close to people. There was an immersive nature to the club and the people in it. Still, he found himself getting a little bit of the wind knocked out of him as he looked over at you, watching the way you carefully turned his camera over in your hands to look at it more closely.

You felt the way that he was watching you, and for a moment you thought that he was just making sure that you weren’t about to drop or break one of his most prized possessions. But when you actually looked at him, and saw the wistful expression on his face, those worries instantly faded away.

Lifting up the camera, you pressed your eye to the viewfinder. When you filled the frame with Danny, a little glimpse of chaos in the far-off background but all the real focus on that quirky little smile on his face, you felt like you were starting to understand why he was content to follow these guys around like this. You must’ve been lost in your thoughts long enough to make him wonder, because he gave just the tiniest tilt of his head as he laughed, and that was when you snapped the photo.

Handing the camera back to him, you said, “Gotta let me see that one too.”

Danny chuckled and nodded, red blooming across his cheeks again. “I’ll make sure of it.”

(divider by @saradika-graphics 💖)

The Bikeriders Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added to any of my taglists!): @garbinge @narcolini @xxanaduwrites @sirbogarde

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The House Beyond the Dunes by Mary Burton

Riveting read from first page to last ~ Couldn’t put it down and read till 2am to find out how it all would end!

I liked: * The twists, turns, and surprises

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* That it drew me in, made me care, had me wondering and caring about what would happen next

* Not knowing what was really happening and who to trust even when I had inklings about some of the characters

* The solving of mysteries that cropped up – and there was more than one dark mystery in this story

* That the baddies were dealt with and justice – of sorts – was delivered

* The dark backstories of some characters and how they played into the plot

* That no character was perfect but the understanding of what made most of them tick was provided

* Thinking about how difficult it would have been to survive and thrive for some of the characters

* Thinking about and hoping for a positive future for Lane and the man who helped her find answers that she needed

What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about how evil and cruel some people can be along with their disregard for others

Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Definitely!

Thank you to NetGalley and Montlake for the ARC – This is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

A tragic accident or something more sinister? A woman’s buried memories put her life at risk in a novel of shattering psychological suspense by New York Times bestselling author Mary Burton. Lane McCord wakes up in a hospital having survived a near-fatal fall at a North Carolina beach cottage. Her boyfriend, Kyle, wasn’t so lucky. A senseless tragedy on their first romantic getaway. All Lane remembers is lying at the bottom of the stairs in Kyle’s pooling blood. Confused and grieving, Lane plans to return to the cottage, collect her personal belongings, and get out. Until a winter rainstorm leaves her stranded and vulnerable, but not alone. A concerned neighbor, who claims he heard a violent argument before the accident, has come out of the storm. So has a suspicious detective on the trail of a missing woman, whose diary deepens the mystery—and raises more questions that fill Lane with dread. How well did she know Kyle? How well does she know herself? What really happened at the cottage on the beach? And when the answers come, who can Lane trust to get out of this waking nightmare alive?

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

You don’t have to answer this since it’s going to be primarily negative but I have to get something off my chest. It’s such a damn shame the mi7 press tour wasn’t like dune’s. Like I’m really excited and happy for the movie, but I can’t quite shake the feeling of what happened last year. And the worst part? It didn’t have to be this way. They could’ve done literally anything else. To waste such a talented actress the way they did is unforgivable. Especially with how many people are talking about her now. Mission could’ve been a part of that but it’s a bad idea to even ask about it now. Sorry to load this on you. Like I said you don’t have to answer. But on the bright side, we’re getting a pretty great redemption with dune lol

Hi! That's ok, you can always share your thoughts here!

You know, I understand she couldn't be doing a lot of promo for MI7 because her character's arc was a big spoiler. She did three premieres and whole press junket in London with Simon. It could have been more of course but specially for that movie she couldn't really talk about much due to the story and her well not having significant screentime. However, we must remember that Mission is the movie that put her on the spot for the big screen. She was largely unknown when they cast her in 2014 and dune to her fantastic performance in the film she got many opportunities. Actually in 2015 she did a whole big promo for Rogue Nation - she was at CinemaCon, she did press in US and Canada alone without other cast members for about 2 weeks straight (she did press in Miami, Chicago, NYC, Toronto), she did all the premieres and press junkets plus the premiere in China which was a month after the US premiere. So Mission is a big part of her career, of her life and both the most intense (in 2015) and maybe most sombre (in 2023) press tour that she has ever done.

[burnwater13]

Concept art by Christian Alzmann

Grogu hated missing people. He missed his friends from the Jedi Temple. He missed his masters as well. He even missed the librarian who pinched his cheeks. He missed Kelleran Beq. He missed Obi-Wan Kenobi. He missed Mace Windu. 

He’d missed those people for a very long time. They’d been gone for more than half his life in most cases. While he was hidden from the Empire and the Inquisitors and the Emperor himself, Grogu still managed to meet people who were kind and helpful and gone. He was at least as missing from their lives, if they still lived them, as they were from his. 

He wondered if they missed him too? Did they smile to themselves when they thought about washing his coverall, only to discover that he’s pockets were filled with snacks and little stones that he picked up to remember the people and places he visited? Did they laugh to themselves when they remembered the first time they saw him eat a critter whole? Did they cry when they thought he must have surely been captured and killed like so many other good people they knew?

He tried not to think about them at all because he really didn’t like going from smiling to laughing to crying. He knew that nothing he could do now would change anything that happened then and that just made him angry and then sad and then very, very quiet. When his dad gave him a strange look because he didn’t understand what Grogu was babbling about, some of the time it was because he was missing those old friends and he just had to run through all the emotions as quickly as he could or he’d just be hugging Din Djarin and weeping on his shoulder. Grogu didn’t want to do that more than once a day and he preferred that time was reserved for asking for more food or a toy…something that would make him happy, rather than sad. 

But today was different. Today was a day he couldn’t help but miss people. Today was the 563rd anniversary of the day first Kuiil and then IG-11 left them. Grogu counted everyday since they parted as an anniversary and that was also one of the many reasons he didn’t like missing people. He couldn’t not think of them every day. He couldn’t not hear their voices or see their actions. 

IG-11 had said and done so many things. It certainly helped that since IG-11 was a droid, it was capable of doing more things per second that a human or an Ugnaught or a Grogu. Offering them tea. Helping them pack up the Razor Crest. Improving the functionality of the carbonite chamber even if they never got a chance to use it. Pointing out that the blurrgs would travel better if they were frozen. Taking Kuiil’s refusal to do that in good humor. Helping them unpack the Razor Crest. Cleaning up after the blurrgs. It had all been memorable. 

Grogu was really glad that IG-11 had rescued him from those Imps on Nevarro. And although he hated to admit it to himself, he had approved of the way the former assassin droid had done it as well. IG had tried being polite and pointing out the issues that required resolution. The Imps couldn’t claim that they hadn’t been warned. They had been. And when they refused to back down and just hand Grogu over, well the re-programmed assassin droid did just what you might it expect it to do. 

And that apology. It was priceless. 

“That was unpleasant. I’m sorry you had to see that.” 

Grogu wasn’t sorry at all and he didn’t find it the least bit unpleasant. If he’d been able to kick sand at those two Imps or snap out a curse or to quote Ian, saying ‘Bet you didn’t see that coming’ and then laugh, he absolutely would have. 

He knew what those two Imps had done to Kuiil and what they had done to him and all IG-11 had done was show them that it wasn’t nice to hurt people. They just got a very first hand experience of why that wasn’t nice. Some people really needed percussive instruction. At least that’s what Cara Dune told him.

Sadly, recalling that Cara was off doing some sort of secret mission thing for the New Republic just gave Grogu another person to miss. It was different missing a person you knew would be okay no matter what versus missing people who were really gone. Grogu would take one over the other any day. He could always ask his dad, the Mandalorian, to send Cara a vid of them waving and wishing her well. 

He couldn’t do that with Kuiil and he couldn’t imagine what would have to happen for Din Djarin to find another IG unit and train it to be their companion. They’d probably have to travel to Mandalore and find a mythosaur and fight the Imps all over again. Grogu began to giggle. 

What were the odds of that happening? 

It would take an IG-11 to calculate them, giving Grogu another reason to miss him. Dank Farrik!

[jasontoddiefor]

I’m probably never gonna write this and it’s time to bring back Not-Fics so

Leia and Luke Roleswap AU

Luke grows up on Alderaan and Leia grows up on Tatooine. And for all Luke Organa is a polite young man, outspoken and pacifist, kind and bright in a way that even seems to make Darth Vader pause....

Leia is a nightmare. In Canon she’s Like That after 19 years of being a princess and being taught to be polite. This Leia grows up in an environment where cut throat is a bit more literal.

Tatooine isn’t kind to children but it’s especially unkind to little girls. Leia grows up with scraped knees and bloody knuckles, screaming against the storms, longing for the stars above

She’s fire, she’s untamable, and nobody holds her back. She cannot be pacified at 16 to stay at home. She takes a speeder in the dead of night to rush away, towards freedom. Her fat e got away and apparently never returned except once to grief and pain, why should Leia stay when she can leave?

Or, at least, she tries. Luke Skywalker might have been calm enough that there was no need for Obi-Wan to be in his life. Leia Skywalker is very familiar with Uncle Ben who lives in the dunes

So it is Uncle Ben who catches her and tells her the truth. That she can’t go because the Emperor would kill her himself. And Leia, brave, darling Leia, ever the child of burning and noise, doesn’t back down

“So teach me,” she tells Ben, determined and so much taller than her narrow frame. “I will be a Jedi.”

And Obi-Wan does. Leia struggles with meditation, finding calm and peace and it’s so much like teaching Anakin, nine and ten and eleven and twelve and— that it makes Obi-Wan ache. At the same time, she’s very much not Anakin’s child. Tatooine is not necessary a place that breeds loyalty to ideas over people, but Leia has grown fiercely attached to hers. Justice and freedom for all. She listened to stories of her grandmother passed down by her Aunt and Uncle and she listens to Uncle Ben and finally understands his deep sorrow. She will not stray from her path, light and just as it is.

In turn, three years later, Alderaan is still as close to Rebellious as a Core Planet can be.

But Luke Organa is quieter than Leia has ever been. He did not get thrown out of school for playing the Republic hymn and he doesn’t speak in the Senate of ideals that nobody else would dare to speak of in fear. It’s not cowardice, but Luke grown up Royal hasn’t spent most of his teenager years learning to hold his temper but to bide his time. Again and again, Luke speaks of relief funds and refugee projects instead, quietly helps people resettle and if here and there a Rebel travels with Organas support ships, then nobody notices because nothing blows up high.

(Not that he doesn’t blow things up. It makes his mother and father sigh when he shoots at old scrap metal or spends all days fixing speeders just to crash them. But Luke is Breha’s endurance, living with artificial organs, Bail’s patience seeing his friends risk their lives every day.)

When Luke Organa slips away with the Death Star Plans, they hesitate, but Organa’s reputation is largely that he is a naive idealistic boy.

He steps onto Tatooine with his two droids, plans people died for, and a nearly two decade old waiting game coming to an end. He expects Master Kenobi, but finds that his Padawan, energetic Leia Skywalker, who grins just like him, is far more interesting

Obi-Wan doesn’t die on the Death Star, but thinks he might when Leia, missing a hand, screams and shouts “why didn’t you tell us?!” and Luke wonders how his parents could stand to be his parents

The ending might be the same, or similar enough, but I really do need Master Leia Skywalker rebuilding the Jedi Order