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girlactionfigure · 11 months ago

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I need to get something off my chest and this only became clear to me 45 seconds ago.

I think I speak for a lot of people when I say the following.

I am DEEPLY traumatized.

For me, the trauma from losing my older brother to terror really never went away but it definitely became bearable. Life was going on.

But then it came to an immediate stop on October 7th, 2023, the day my heart was ripped from my body over and over.

So what happened 45 seconds ago that made me realize this?

A friend of mine reached out. He produced a movie that he’ll be screening in synagogues across America on Tisha Beav, the saddest day on the Jewish calendar, a fast day that starts in a few hours.

He sent me a private link to watch the movie. He promised me it had no gore, no atrocities, and that I’d be safe watching it.

I started the movie. I forced myself to keep watching. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15 minutes.

But then I asked myself why I was doing this to myself and I stopped the movie.

I simply could not. And no, there was no gore, no blood, just a whole lot of unbearable tragedy.

The movie had many people, heroes who told their story from that dark day. There were many positive messages in the movie and I totally see what they were trying to accomplish with this movie.

But I simply could not keep watching.

This isn’t behind us yet for us to look back at it. We are still in it! That day hadn’t ended. The mourning and devastation hasn’t ended.

Our national suffering hasn’t ended.

This entire country is traumatized. The government will have to spend BILLIONS after this war to deal with the PTSD of this entire country. Tens of billions.

I still find it hard to register that October 7th happened. That thousands of Gazans, and I chose that word carefully because it is an absolute lie to say it was only Hamas terrorists, came in and massacred families. And while they did it, as many survivors have attested, they laughed.

A few survivors have said that among all the bloodshed and cruelty, the part that sent shivers down their spines was the laughter.

As these animals raped and beheaded men, women, and children, as they burned families alive, they laughed. Hysterically. This for them was the highlight of their life.

But I can’t watch a movie about it because we’re still in it.

We are doing everything we can to teach our enemies a lesson that gone are the days that you can just massacre Jews and not pay a price. They must pay a price big enough that they will know that they made a very big mistake on October 7th.

Our enemies need to bleed enough that they can no longer say that they’ll do 10/7 over and over. They need to fear Israel. They need to know what happens when you invade our country and murder our people.

In any normal society, the entire world would stand behind anyone trying to eliminate that evil. And you know what? They would. They’d stand behind anyone, anyone except the Jews.

I’m going to say this as clearly as I can and yes, I am speaking from a place of pain, unbearable pain, pain and trauma, but I still have to say it.

If you are calling for Israel to hold its fire before eliminating and obliterating Hamas, you are making a clear statement, “I know full well what they did on October 7th, 2023, and I am completely ok with them doing it again and again.”

That’s what a ceasefire with Hamas means.

I have not gone down there to see the houses and cars burned to a crisp, to smell the death in the air. I couldn’t. I still can’t.

I can’t watch or read about the atrocities. I block anyone who sends me that horror. From my perspective, those are snuff films, with one small difference. The atrocity in those films? The victims are my family members.

Until Israel’s enemies, Iran’s puppets are a thing of the past, it is not only Israel’s right to eliminate them wherever they are, it is Israel’s responsibly! Its responsibility to its citizens. Its responsibility to those families. Its responsibility to the world!

What Hamas did on that day, and I mean this whole heartedly, is the cruelest barbarism the world has EVER known. Ever. Yes, ever!

There are many Holocaust survivors who were interviewed after 10/7 who all said the same thing. “Even the Nazis didn’t do this…”

The Nazis drank themselves to sleep. Deep down they were ashamed. Hamas live streamed it and is deeply proud of October 7th.

So let me very clear. There is not ONE, not ONE other country on this planet that would have to justify a war like this after a day like that. Not one.

Except Israel, the only Jewish state.

I am far from being able to watch movies about October 7th. Maybe I’ll never get there. I’m unable to hear the stories, watch the videos, or even see the pictures.

Every time I accidentally see anything about that day, I am retraumatized!

So yes, I know we will win this war and I know things will be ok but I am far from there. I am far from being ok. This country is far from being ok.

And the salt on the open wound is the fact that we can’t do what we need to do to eliminate the threat on our borders and ensure that 10/7 never happens again, because every step of the way, the global community puts wrenches in our wheels.

“Proportionate response”? What’s proportionate to murdering 1200 innocent people in their homes? What’s proportionate to raping mothers in front of their children and children in front of their mothers? What’s proportionate to beheading babies? There is no proportionate response to such barbarism. It doesn’t exist.

“Genocide”

“Indiscriminate killing”

“Starvation”

Such lies!

“Don’t go into Rafah or else!”

The lies don’t stop. The deception never ends.

Israel eliminates tens of terrorists. Hamas calls them kids and the world eats it up!

The aftermath of 10/7, which continues till today, is almost as hard to believe as 10/7 was.

There are two sides in this war and there is no option C.

Israel who fights to live in peace and to remove the animals who raped our children from this planet before they do it again, but next time, it won’t only be Israel.

Hamas who did what they did and aim to do it again and again.

Those are your only two choices.

Remaining silent today is the equivalent of witnessing first hand what the Nazis did and turning a blind eye. Remaining silent and neutral in this war is immoral.

Defending Hamas or demanding Israel cease its fire and not finish the job is immoral.

Giving Israel anything but your FULL support is immoral.

And let’s say it as it is. Enough with the charade already. If, after October 7th, you don’t stand with Israel, you are actively encouraging Hamas to do it again. You are actively condoning the murder of Jews and encouraging them to do it again.

If you don’t stand with Israel now, in our darkest hour, you stand with Hamas and pardon my French, but if you stand with rapists, murderers, and pedophiles who take pride in their “work”, well you are a terror-supporting, Jew-hating, mass murder-condoning piece of… and you will be remembered in history as such.

I am deeply traumatized and the truth is, for this country and the Jewish people, trauma is the new normal because we are all traumatized.

Anyone who knows what happened on October 7, 2023 should be deeply traumatized.

Stand with Israel when we need you most. Do what you can to help. We won’t forget it.

If you don’t, history won’t forget it.

Tonight begins the 9th of Av, as I said, the saddest day on the Jewish calendar. I’ll be going to the western wall to pray.

For 45 years, I fasted on this day but deep down, I didn’t really feel the pain we are supposed to feel on this day. How can I authentically mourn the destruction of a temple I never saw and find very hard to relate to?

This year, I will feel it in spades! This year, we experienced an entire year of the 9th of Av.

This year, we are fasting under the very real threat of our enemies murdering us again like they always have.

Iran threatening to attack on the 9th of Av. They know what they’re doing. They know that this day is our most vulnerable.

So tonight, I will begin my mourning and my fasting with a gaping hole in my heart and a deep prayer that God make this our last 9th of Av. That one year from now, we will dance again in the streets of Jerusalem and the prophecies of the Jewish people coming home will all have come true.

Tonight I will try to embrace the pain and hope it’s not too unbearable. It will be. I know that.

But tonight, for the first time in my life, the 9th of Av will be what it was supposed to be, a day on which we mourn and remember what our enemies did to us over and over.

Tonight, this year, it won’t be hard to feel it.

The only thing that’ll be difficult this year is to bear the unbearable pain that we feel as a nation.

I wish you a meaningful fast if you’re fasting and if you’re not, spend a few moments to reflect on our history, specifically as it pertains to this day, the 9th of Av. Maybe even say a little prayer that we get past this. It can’t hurt.

The Jewish people need the strength to get through this dark time in our history. We’ve been through worse and came out on the other side, but getting through this will require real strength and dedication. We need all the prayers we can get.

Have a meaningful 9th of Av. I know I will.

@HilzFuld

#Israel #October 7 #Hamas Massacre #Tisha B'Av #Judaism #Jumblr

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daisyjonesgf · 1 year ago

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the river (2) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

the end of a trilogy series

previous chapter / next chapter

masterlist

6.1k words

warnings: angst, fluff, self-destructive behavior, finnick's bias now so you can see how they both view the other as the more broken one, mental health issues, allusions to suicide, allusions to trafficking and trauma surrounding it, the opposite of a slowburn it's giving their soulmates, mentions of death/torture/violence/brainwashing, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Seeing your face again could have sent Finnick into another frenzy, he'd been scared he'd forget it even though he thought about it every second of every day. But he couldn't do that, he needed to listen, hear your voice again. You had that smile plastered on your face that everyone could easily believe in, and had for years, except him. There was a mournful, numb look that would settle in the back of your eyes whenever you put on a performance, one that usually leads to dissociation. On top of that, you looked tired, the way you looked when after you'd won your Games and hadn't been able to escape the nightmares.

Your voice was like music in his ears when you greeted Ceasar back, a tune that could soothe his soul if he wasn't so worried about you. It pained him to notice that in the midst of everything, of holding you captive, of the rebellion, they'd still managed to play dress up with you. Goosebumps covering your skin, the outfit barely covered any of you, you'd always run cold, and the Capitol seemed to know this. “So you're saying you knew nothing about the rebel plan?"

You shook your head emphatically, “No, I told you all how sure I was that I was never coming out of that arena. It was just as much of a shock to me." His clever, clever girl, trying so hard to play it safe.

“At the end you were screaming about forgetting something, what was that?" Caesar asked.

The tracker. The stupid tracker. "Finnick…" You trailed off, looking into the camera for a second like you were trying to reach out to him, “We had a special way of communicating with each other that comes with being together that long, I needed to find him, I still don't remember why.”

"So did he know about the rebel plan?”

Your foot was tapping slightly and Finnick prayed, for your sake, that no one else knew how anxious that indicated you were. “If he did, he didn't tell me." You looked at the camera again, addressing the citizens of the Capitol, "And I want everyone to know that if he did know anything, he would only do it if he thought it meant we could be together. He would never want this, the rebellion, the terror, both of us love all of you and Panem so much. His intentions would've been of love, not harm.”

Finnick was so proud that your years of charisma for the Capitol was pulling through now. He felt like he was going to cry, the way you were defending him in the off chance that everything went wayward and he also ended up in Capitol clutches somehow. Maybe, if Snow really thought you knew nothing, he'd consider you more than just bait, maybe there'd be quite a few of these interviews left to boost morale for Capitol citizens. To see one of their favorite victors spewing out propaganda, it would also keep you alive longer, so out of all things that's what Finnick would place his hopes on.

“Peeta called for a ceasefire, would you agree with this, that things should just be called off?” You glanced off camera, anxiously scratching at your arms.

"Yes, a ceasefire needs to be called.” Your smile reeked of discomfort and fear, and he was even more grateful that it was something only he knew how to sense from you. “The destruction being caused, the death, will get so much worse if this continues. No one wants that, this can all be sorted out. President Snow is merciful, but only if a ceasefire is called for.” It was sickening, the lies you were being forced to tout. Snow was anything but merciful, he'd probably throw the victors into the arena again, or just line them all up to be shot, or make death causing ‘accidents’ occur as soon as possible. Then you were crying and Finnick longed to hold you, to tell you it would be okay, to give any words of comfort he could. "I'm sorry, so much has happened recently.”

"Well us in the Capitol are glad to still have you with us." Finnick hated that they had you, that Caesar could still force you to perform for all of Panem and act like you're fine.

"I'm glad to be here with all of you too!” You mutter through tears and your signature, fake smile.

"Before we go, is there anything you want to say if the rebels are watching out there, if Finnick, your husband is watching out there?”

“He's not a rebel." You say quickly, with as much urgency as you can. Your eyes shut for a second and you're muttering to yourself, “He's my husband, he's not a rebel, not a rebel."

"Right, he's not a rebel.” Caesar says with what's supposed to be a comforting smile.

Your eyes open and you nod, wiping away stray tears, “And I'm just reminding everyone how badly we need a ceasefire, to stop all of this. To stop the suffering and all that could come.” Your smiling again, so forced it looks like it hurts and you're rubbing your necks until it's red, "Ceasefire, ceasefire, ceasefire is important.” It's like you're chasing a thought you're being forced to remember.

“Yes, a ceasefire is important." Caesar nods, "Well a big thank you to the Capitol Princess for her message here today.” Your smile drops as you nod at the camera before it cuts and Finnick has been once again abandoned with his thoughts.

What are they doing to you to convince you to say things you would never believe? How sweet you are for insisting upon his innocence anyway you can, he misses you more than home, the ocean, the feeling of fresh air in his lungs, the sun shining down on his face, he would happily live without it all if you could just be here, with him. You'd looked so exhausted and he misses being able to hold you, keep you warm so you could rest and feel safe when you did. He longs to see your genuine smile, the way your eyes would soften and the way your nose crinkled when you laughed.

A fantasy he can drive himself into before the anger can fall back into place, how he needs to hijack something so he can rescue you. He'd rage to President Coin herself if he could force her to do it, but they barely even let him out of the hospital wing. He's sobbing again, calloused hands trying to clear his face of the tears. Maybe they think he hasn't seen it, so they aren't worried about his reaction, they probably assume he's sleeping or focused on tying his knots, but it's just the eye of the hurricane. He can only stain the plain, scratchy sheets with his tears for so long before the hysteria will return. But for now he can mourn. He can hate himself, wish the rope was long enough to let him leave, and wish you could've both just chosen to be together in death. It would've been better then torture he's going through now. How there's not a second he can't focus on you, what he misses, what he dreads could be happening to you, the dreams of your future.

Dreams where you could be at home, surrounded by friends and family having the traditional District 4 wedding, sea shanty's and all. Where there was no fear that Snow would manipulate the games to force your children to be spectacles so you'd had children, as many as you wanted. Who you'd take to the beach, teach them about the animals, teach them to swim, and be the family he knows deep down you'd both have wished for. There'd been a glimpse where that was possible and then there'd been the impending doom that it wasn't. That instead it would be the wish he had when they told him you were dead.

Death. You. The idea that death could creep up with its slender hands and drag you away into the cavernous pit, that would leave him forever alone. He'd gratefully dig the claws of death into himself to bring you back or lay with you in the lowest parts of the cliffs forever. Death. You. Him. Freedom. Chains broken, no more threats, no more needs, just the end with you.

Instead he needed to face the brazen winds to return you to his arms. You'd looked so cold and he missed being able to warm you, for you to cool him down. He had to get you back and the frenzy was back. Finnick was back on his feet, tearing himself from the bed, not giving a care to the things around him, if they fell to the floor it was something else out of his way. This commotion did alert the medics close by and Finnick was instantly trying to run by them.

“We have to save her, I need to save her!” He urged, but they were used to his antics. They'd long ago retrieved the manpower required to overpower him when he got like this. That didn't mean he still wouldn't fight, he still had the strength it took to shove most of them off, react violently when they got their hands on him, and struggle when eventually a larger group had their arms on him, ready to sedate once again. Maybe that was a good thing though, it allowed him to fully focus all of his thoughts on you and everything you two had.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

He was early, but he didn't care, well he kind of did when he paced by the cobblestones not far from your house wondering when he should knock. Wicker picnic basket being moved between each of his hands, careful not to hit the bouquet of flowers he was holding, as he anxiously counted down. Finnick knew he said noon, but did that mean five minutes before would be the right time to show up? 10 minutes? Exactly at noon? He wasn't used to feeling this anxious, he'd adopted a suave personality for Panem to gobble up that had become nearly effortless, but now he wanted desperately for you to ignore that and just be perfect.

The gift he had for you weighed heavy in the pocket of his shorts. He wanted to give it to you, he hoped you'd like it because he really wanted to see that smile that he'd daydreamed about again. He checked his watch, 13 minutes, and the worry was still there. Would you be scared off if you looked outside to see him waiting so early or would you find it sweet? What if you were inside anxiously waiting for him because you doubted it was real, because you wanted it to be genuine, and he reasoned from what he did know it was probably the correct assumption. You were too full of self-doubt, of an unspoken want to be seen, to be realized, and he wanted nothing more than to really comprehend each intricate detail that made you, you.

‘Fuck it,’ He told himself when he made his way up the cracked cement, the grass and weeds peeking through. All the way up the two steps on your crickety porch, light blue paint peeling away to reveal the rotting chunks of wood. Slowly he tapped his knuckles on the wooden door, hoping the knocks didn't seem aggressive, but were enough to gain attention. Since when had he worried about the way his knocks were perceived? Only to gain a chance to perceive you.

The door creaked open and there you were, glowing in another beautiful sundress. “Hi!” Your smile was enough to wash away most of his anxieties even if your own voice seemed riddled with them, he despised the fact you felt anything less than sure of yourself, then sure of his interest in you.

“Good morning, angel." Morning? Afternoon? Did he care which one was more accurate, did you? Finnick pulled on his dazzling smile, feeling like he was swept up by you.

He pulled the bouquet up, "Um, I got these for you.” You stared at them for what felt like an eternity and made him blush, scared he'd misread something,"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just-”

"They’re for me?” Features so soft it made his heart want to melt already, even the smile was so sweet and fond.

“Yeah, they're for you. These ones just reminded me of you." He wasn't about to say he'd spent hours at Mags this morning trying to pick the perfect flowers from her garden that he thought you would not only adore, but that gave off your very essence.

“They're perfect." You said in a soft amazement,"Really perfect.” Your fingers brush through them before you're ever so gently taking them from him,"Thank you.”

Flowers were definitely a win, something that could rely on for you to adore. “Of course, sweet girl." You smiled as you smelled the flowers and he concluded that you didn't get many gifts, even one's as easy as that. He'd plant garden after garden to keep you smiling like that. You shut the door and it clicked behind you as you stepped towards him, porch creaking.

“Really, thank you, Finnick." To his surprise you hugged him and how cold you were was almost as shocking, you had such a warm, inviting aura that it was hard to imagine the icincess of your skin. Yet he melted into it, he'd always been so warm that it was nice to have something to contradict that, like when he went for his early morning swim. You smelled the peaches and the ocean, it was delightful and an aroma he'd always want to remember. He longed for your touch to return the moment you pulled away and suddenly he was just hot again. He must have stood there staring and longing for a while because your melodic voice stopped this, “So, are we planning on standing here all day?”

“No, no sorry!" He shook his head, breaking into a nervous chuckle as he tilted his head to the side. You laughed as you began walking down the rickety steps and he followed. “How was dinner?" Maybe he was jealous, he shouldn't be, there was really no good reason to be, but he was.

You looked at Finnick for a moment, confused, like it hadn't quite processed in your brain. “Oh, yes! It went well!"

“What'd his sisters have for you?" The fond look you gave him for remembering a small moment in a conversation made his heart swell and he swore he'd remember everything about you.

“We like to try and find the prettiest things in the sand, seashells, sea glass, things like that and we all have little collections from each other. They're sweet."

“You're sweet."

“How would you know that, you don't know me." You said, fingers playing the flowers and trying to keep watch on the ground. The cobblestone was uneven, broken, crumbling apart and very just a tripping hazard.

“As you keep reminding me, it doesn't change the fact that you're sweet. ” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. His free hand slides into his pocket, “Saw something else that reminded me of you." He pulls out a necklace, something a vendor had made of shining seashell fragments and the occasional pearl, but something about it just seemed so much like you.

“Finnick." Your steps halted and he did the same,"I don't need you to buy me things.”

"I know, I want to buy you things.” The necklace dangled from his fingers, glistening in the rays of sun.

"But I don't have anything for you, so it's not-”

"You don't have to get me anything, I'm just spending time with you and I want to do it. Not because I feel obligated too, but because I like you.” Finnick reassured, this didn't have to be transactional, he just wanted to show you he paid attention, he cared.

You closed your eyes and sighed before nodding, “Okay."

“Unless you don't like it, in which case you should tell me now for future reference.”

“No, no, that's not what I mean, I mean I do, I just-"

“Need to get better at accepting gifts?" He finished, raising an eyebrow.

You scoffed, “I'm good at accepting gifts!" There was a beat of silence where the two of you both stared at each other, him with his brow still arched quizzically, before the two of you burst into laughter. “Sorry, that's not true."

“I can tell!" When the laughter had somewhat subsided, he took another step towards you, lifting the necklace slightly, “Here, let me help you." He was thankful for another chance to let his fingers ‘accidentally’ brush against the skin of your neck and be cooled by it.

His nimble fingers secured the clasp, "This seems to keep happening to us.” You said, trying not to bristle when his warm hands did in fact make slight contact with yours.

"Maybe I'm just a mastermind.” His voice was so close to your ear as he gave himself an extra second of touch before forcing himself to step back.

"Or maybe you're full of yourself." You turned back around to face him before the two of you continued on the walk.

Finnick shrugged, “Two things can be true."

“Maybe not those two." He felt like a lost puppy dog who'd trail behind you, at your beck and call, every single time you spoke. It was terrifying, bone chilling, to think he'd become infatuated from afar and now it was like he'd been bewitched. As if your aura had its own siren song attached to allure his own in and he'd gladly crash his ship on the rocky shores for you. Yet the fear was combated with the fact that you, the core of you, was closer to the shine of the lighthouse, guiding him to safety. A thin line between destruction and refuge.

Banter has easily continued until he'd finally led you to the beach locked behind the gates of Victors Village, its view was truly breathtaking. He laid out the blanket on the warm sand, picnic basket on top, and you'd already been rid of your sandals. You stood, arms out as the breeze blew through your arms, inhaling the salty air and Finnick would've sworn you were some type of ethereal blessing gifted to the Earth from the ocean itself. Slowly he lifted the lid on the wicker basket, “Here." He said, holding up a peach.

You opened your eyes to look over and he could see the instant surprise on them as you sat down, “Finnick!" You didn't take it from him, just put your hands around it to draw it closer as you smelled it like you weren't sure it was real. “Oh my god!" You exclaimed when you caught a glimpse of the bag of peaches within the basket.

“Thought it might convince you to not barter the necklace." He chuckled as if he hadn't been certain he'd buy the whole array of peaches to see you smile and hear your laugh, to see the spark in your eyes.

You paused to touch the necklace, suddenly serious, “I wouldn't do that." Your eyes were so gorgeous, so addictive, so kind. The type of eyes he wanted to gaze into until everything else had faded away. Every piece of art, every sunset, every sunrise, every star’s beauty lessened in comparison. “Finnick Odair, you can't be real." That shining smile had returned and he couldn't help but follow in your footsteps to give one back. “Seriously, you have to tell me what's wrong with you before I become too attached."

Finally you took the peach from his hand to bite into it, “Afraid I can't tell you yet, angel, scared you'd run away on me.” His tone was light enough to be a joke, but deep down he knew he'd never be able to tell you about the things that he felt the most self-loathing for, how self-destructive he could be would be something he'd try to keep you away from.

"Well you've already got me; hook, line, and sinker.” When you smiled and spoke, your nose would scrunch up in what he imagined was the most adorable thing possible. You stopped taking bites and quietly sat on the bed, observing him.

"No need to stare, I'm staying right here.”

"Oh my god, I could kiss you.” He wasn't even sure if you'd processed the words as you stared at him longer before your brain finally seemed to register what you'd said. The look of shock had barely begun to pass your face when he decided he'd just kiss you instead. Perhaps it was all too fast, a day for him to be tasting the peach on your lips, for his fingers to be on your cold face besides the slight warmth on your cheeks. Whirlwind romances were either tragedy's or a fairytale, so time would have to tell, but maybe it should've been a sign. The ending could be uncertain as it liked, but he was sure your souls were yoked in the first ocean tides to bless the world.

His nostrils filled with the scent of peaches and the salt air you had meshed with how you tasted like the peaches, once again, and vanilla. So calming, like he was being softly rocked in the waters, nothing less than perfect. When he finally pulled away from you all he wanted to do was be enveloped by the taste once again. You looked so flustered and taken aback, it was so precious to him. “I beat you to it, this time." Cocky smirk even if he was slightly breathless.

You nodded at him slowly with your eyes wide, like all thoughts had been taken from your head. Finnick would've said something else if it weren't for the refreshing chill of your hands grabbing his face to pull him in for another kiss. He'd never get sick of peaches when they reminded him so much of you, if he was ever to be away he'd spend his time learning endlessly about them just to feel near. Although it couldn't compare with the way your lips molded to his so easily. Then there were your hands in his hair, something he usually couldn't stand, but when it was your gentle hands he couldn't find it anything but endearing. Eventually you'd pulled away as well, chest heaving, yet it was like you couldn't say a thing. Faces and bodies mere inches from each other as you stared at each other, listening to each other breathe.

Suddenly you were quickly removing yourself from him, running forward in the sand. “Where are you going?" Finnick called after you, somewhat terrified he'd scared you off. But you turned back to him smiling like you hadn't a care in the world.

“Swimming!" You shed yourself of the sundress to be just left in the swimsuit you wore underneath, “Are you coming?" Now it was Finnick's to scramble up, chasing you towards the water.

You must have spent hours swimming, like there was no other world except the now. He'd swim under the water, scaring you when he'd pull at your ankle and you'd fight back by trying to dunk him under the moment he bobbed to the top. This was usually unsuccessful as he'd simply drag you down with him, except when he wanted you to feel like you had succeeded. He'd randomly lift you from the waters and you'd screech for him to put you down and once or twice he'd used it as an excuse to kiss you again. After hours of similar actions the sound of the waves hitting the shore was the only thing that could be heard as you both waded to stay afloat.

Finnick stared out at the horizon, “I want to take you sailing when I get back."

“When you get back from what?" You asked, looking at him. Suddenly he was flooded with guilt, here he was dragging you along when he couldn't even be fully yours or honest about it. But he wanted to be with you so bad and for now that was all he had to cling onto.

It didn't mean he could look at you when he tried to explain it, so he looked down into the waters, “I'm supposed to leave for the Capitol tomorrow, just Victor related things.” He mumbled, shrugging off the mention.

"Oh, okay.” You didn't sound actually upset, "When will you be back?”

"A week at the most.” He peeked up at you through his eyelashes surprised to see you didn't look upset either, at most a little dejected that you wouldn't see him for so long.

"Well, we better have a killer party then to end all of this off, make sure you don't forget me.” You teased, raising your eyebrows.

"I could never forget about you… but you're not upset?"

You shot him a quizzical look, “Why would I be upset, we all have responsibilities, even if they come with different territory.” You shrugged and nearly fell backwards when he pressed his lips to yours again, steadying your back when you began to fall backwards. You had to be an angel who'd been sent to keep him sane and grace him, but a darker side of him urged him to realize he didn't deserve someone as understanding as you.

“You're so perfect." His arms held you and he looked at you with nothing less than amazement.

“I'm definitely not."

‘You’re perfect for me, we're perfect together,’ Finnick thought as he looked at you, water droplets running down your skin, breathing hard from all the excursions, eyes sparked with their usual twinkle and so many hidden thoughts he wanted to dive into. He accepted the conclusion that the only reason he would be feeling all this so fast would be because you were destined to be, all the stars had aligned for this moment, and the oceans had moved mountains to ensure this lifetime was no different. If you were Eurydice he had been your Orpheus, the Dante to your Beatrice, you would have been the Penelope to his Odysseus, regardless of any fate he knew there was never a life where you'd not been irrevocably bound together.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were going to be rescued, saved from the Capitol's grasps, and what had brought elation at first was quickly ruined when he learned that he couldn't help rescue you. He wasn't quite yet considered mentally stable enough for it, even if slowly he'd been able to mask it all better. Instead he had to stay in District 13 and do nothing but beg the universe to return you to him. Hadn't there been enough tragedy in your short lives? Hadn't there been enough tragedy in every other ending, in every other life? They should've let him brave death to bring you back, it would've settled him more then the torture of not knowing. Especially since he'd caught every airing you'd had from the Capitol which made him grateful that Katniss had wagered for your immunity. Snow had you begging for ceasefire, showing off outfits to parade, as if there wasn't a textile shortage, and it broke him when you seemed to be getting less sure of questions regarding him, regarding you. Then had been when Peeta announced the planned attack on District 13 and seeing you scream when he was violently attacked for the warning. A scream that would have forced Finnick to be sedated if it weren't for the more impending doom of the bombs.

Katniss was filming a distraction propo about Peeta, how he'd saved her, loved her from the beginning. It was intimate, but apparently not enough for Plutarch who was calling Finnick over. Or maybe he's thought of something when Katniss mentions Snow's own admission of the Capitol's fragility.

“The Capitol is fragile, Snow is fragile, if we can manage to make a major blow to that, it could take their focus off of the prisoners. Force them to focus on damage control instead." Plutarch explains.

“And you want me to say something that could do that?” Finnick looks down at his rope, you'd never been able to master the butterfly knot, and he can imagine himself going over it again to try and teach you.

“If you have anything worth sharing." Of course everyone knows he does, among the elite, the powerful, the other victors it's just an open secret. “It could help us save her."

"But you don't have to open that up, there's no guarantee it'll do anything.” Haymitch argues, he's been forced into sobriety and has maintained his aggression.

“I have something, more than one." Finnick finally says once he's completed his knot and Plutarch can't hide how pleased he is with this outcome. Finnick swears he can hear the blood draining from his face and the nausea rising in his stomach as each second passes, but he persists to stand in front of the cameras.

"You don't have to do this.” Haymitch reiterates.

"Yes I do, if it'll help her.” There's no other option, if the only thing that stopped you from being safely brought to District 13 was the lack of a good distraction, he'd find a way to get a longer rope. He undid the knot before balling it tightly in his hand, “I'm ready." Finnick says to the camera crew and he thinks of you. He turns off any physical sign of emotions he may have because he knows if he doesn't it would lead to another damaging spiral.

The cameras click on and he's given the all clear to begin, “President Snow used to… sell me… my body, that is. I wasn't the only one.” Far from it, and Finnick wanted revenge for all of them, for him, for you, for Cashmere, for everyone Snow had forced into his scheme. "If a Victor is considered desirable, the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” What had happened to Johanna, what he'd been terrified would happen to you when you'd first been together. “I wasn't the only one." He repeats and this time it really is for you, for how much he had to watch it break you. The nightmares, how long it took for you to accept any form of physical contact, how even years after it still affected your own intimacy with each other. They stole it all, your girlhood, most of your spark, whatever they could they ravaged from you like vultures on a corpse. Wasn't the prize of winning supposed to be life? “But I was the most popular. And perhaps the most defenseless because the people I loved were so defenseless." Finnick would never have mentioned this to you, but he'd begged Snow to give him more rather than give you any. The President had said you were too popular for none, but had given you less than what you could've had in exchange for even more of Finnick's time, his so-called uses. “To make themselves feel better my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry, but I found a much more valuable form of payment. Secrets.”

That's why he was such a threat to Snow, he knew too much, he needed to be silenced, but he hadn't and now he could tell all of Panem each one. “And this is where you're going to want to stay tuned, President Snow because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some of the others.” And prominent name after name spewed off of his tongue. It felt like he was dropping chains off of his body to reveal them to the nation. Each one more heinous than the next, “And now, on to our good President Coriolanus Snow. Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. Poison." More names, victims of Snow's climb to power, the elite he trampled so he could trample the weak. Suddenly he's on fire, Finnick can't stop thinking about all the pain it caused you, about how it ruined his own childhood and life, how Johanna lost everyone she loved, how Cashmere worked so hard to protect her brother only for them both to be dead and he's so very detailed. Ensuring that it can't be swept under the rug and it's so harrowing that no one cuts the camera even when he's stopped speaking. There's too much shock, too much intensity, "Cut.” Finnick eventually intervenes.

Finally the stupor is over and people rush to air the footage, Plutarch is making endless comments that Finnick can't comprehend when he's so lost in his own head. Auto-pilot took control for most of the day, he tied knots until his fingers bled. You would've scolded him and bandaged them up, insisting it's why you didn't care for them even if you loved pouting for him to help you just so he could be so close by. Then he's got his arms wrapped around his knees, the day has been too slow, what if you were dead and he'd have no idea until they arrived and he would be at peak hope.

“Did you love her right away, Finnick?" Katniss' voice finally pulls him away from the endless myriad of thoughts.

“Not for the years when I knew of her and then I don't know what changed. She was just so herself in every way and I knew I wanted to just speak with her at least, but once I had a taste of it, yes. Like I'd been knocked over by a wave with it. For a while she didn't understand, but I didn't either, I just knew that there was no else for me." He feels like he's tearing up again when Haymitch rushes into the room.

“They're back. We’re wanted in the hospital. That's all I know." But Finnick feels like he can't move, he realizes he's scared of what you'll be like now. The Capitol had taken the you with her free-spirit and love of being in the moment and made her hate that she was able to breathe oxygen, which he'd so diligently worked to prove you were worthy of. Now they'd had you again, a version that was already hurt, untrusting, and self-destructive, and he couldn't imagine what they could have done to you now. Katniss is softly grabbing his hand to guide him upwards and he feels robotic. She guides him through the winding, gray hallways to the hospital wing. It's not until he can hear your screams that his brain clicks back into action. He has a responsibility to you, one of care, of love, of support in your weakest moments.

He's screaming your name as he runs from Katniss, searching for you desperately. Then he spots you on a hospital bed, pushing off the doctors trying to take care of you. Finnick needs to just be there with his soft words, let you know they're trying to help, so you'll stop. But that's not what happens when you hear his voice or see him. “Angel!" Your panicked screams become more shrill when you see him and in his confusion he steps closer, “It's just me." His voice is more broken then he wanted it to sound, more dejected.

“Get him away from me!" You're frenzied, scrambling to get out of the hospital bed or as far away in it as you can. The doctors are trying to reassure you as you scratch, and kick, and hit, and scream, begging for them to keep you safe from him. He feels the doctors trying to lead him away, hears Johanna laughing harshly in the background noise, but he's frozen. Your head is banging on the metal back of the bed which rattles. “Please, please.” You're sobbing and they're staying to sedate you, "He wants me dead, you don't get it, he's gonna kill me.”

And Finnick is once again determined to get hands on a much longer rope.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so, so much for reading I am so sorry this took me so long! I hope you enjoyed it and as always feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated. my ask box is always open and currently so are requests which I'm working through! love you all and thank you again 💋

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dangraccoon · 4 months ago

Text

Untitled Spreadsheet - PRIVATE

Chapter 13 - Review

Word Count: 1326

Content: the end of the war, clone rights are sentient rights, clones making their own government, a clone cadet accidentally parent-trapping Cody and Obi-Wan, Rex and Padmé getting so excited, both of them finally making a move

For @literallyjustanerd, based on this post

Mando'a Guide Ara'gotenir Tolase - Clone System; essentially the government for the clones Tsad'alor - group leader; something like a senator verd'ika - private (like the rank, although is often used affectionally for a child as "little soldier) orikih - tiny aar'ika - little pain, sting Gar cuy ori'jaon'yc bah ni, ratiin - You are important to me, always jetii'dral - the Force (lit. Jedi power) Ni kar'taylir gar suvarir mando'a, ner jetii - I know you understand mando'a, my jedi

The celebrations lasted several weeks. The ceasefire, peace agreement, and reintroduction to the Republic on the last CIS planet meant an official end to the war, almost exactly five years since it had begun.

And with the end of the war, the Senate passed the Clone Rights Bill unanimously, and included provisions for housing, work, and back pay, which no one outside the Senate knew about. Cody would never forget the sight of millions of brothers crying out in joy because they were finally free. No, he wouldn’t forget that for the rest of his life.

Cody was free, though he tried not to think about it very much.

The GAR wouldn’t be dissolved completely, but used for aid missions, security forces, and other projects as needed. The clones would be paid for their labor as well as a sum of credits for their service in the war.

Cody chose to remain in what they’d named the Ara’gotenir Tolase–though they usually just called it the AT–as a representative for those previously under his command. Really, they’d become something of a miniature Republic.

Cody tapped away at his datapad, sipping his caf.

“Tsad’alor Cody?” a small voice called from the doorway of his office.

He looked up to see a cadet, maybe only four or five. “Hello there. What can I do for you, verd’ika?”

The kid fidgeted, looking down at his boots.

Cody smiled and rose from his seat. “Why don’t you come in and sit down?” He gestured to the small seating area next to his desk. It was used more often for him crashing on the couch after working all night than it was for company, but he was happy for the change.

“Yessir,” the cadet said as he did, sitting somewhat awkwardly on one of the chairs, and Cody tried not to cringe at the way his “orders” were immediately followed.

“Try to relax,” he instructed as he sat on the couch. Not directly next to the boy, not far away. “I’m not a Commander anymore. You don’t have to use my rank or my title. You can just call me Cody, if you want.”

The kid nodded, but seemed to find the fabric of the chair far more interesting than Cody.

“What’s your name, brother?”

“I-I don’t have one,” he mumbled after a moment. “My… my batchmates call me orikih.”

Cody nodded. “But do you like to be called that?”

The boy shook his head immediately. “No, sir! I hate it when they tease me just ‘cause I came outta the tubes all shrunk!”

Cody’s brows lifted. He hadn’t expected the outburst.

“I’m sorry, si– um, Ori’vod,” the boy muttered.

“No need to apologize, verd’ika,” he smiled softly, scooching to the edge of his seat. “Can I let you in on a secret?”

It was the kid’s turn to look surprised. He nodded eagerly.

Cody leaned in closer, making a show of looking over his shoulders around his empty office. “I was the little one in my batch and–”

“Really?”

“Yes, I was very orikih, too,” he grinned. “But that’s not what my batchers called me.”

The cadet watched him with wide eyes. Cody felt his heart warm even more than it had when the boy had come in.

“They liked to tease me by calling me aar’ika,” he chuckled.

To Cody’s surprise and his utter joy, his little brother laughed. It was a wonderful, musical sound that he hadn’t heard in some time.

“They call you ‘little pain’?”

“They did! Alpha-17 even did for a while.”

The kid’s smile faded as he returned to his quieter nature. His brow furrowed a little, the same way all their vode did. “How did you make them stop?”

He smiled gently. “I won’t lie to you, verd’ika,” he said, very seriously. “They didn’t stop for a long time. Our batch’s twins–Fox and Wolffe–they’re more stubborn than an entire herd of banthas put together, but I did have someone on my side.”

Curiosity lit the boy’s face again. “Who?”

“It was Prime, himself,” a new voice called from the doorway. “And he gave him a new name: Kote.”

Cody nearly broke his neck, turning to see General Kenobi, leaning against the door frame. It had been nearly a year since he’d seen his old General in person, not that Cody had counted. Cody felt like he’d been sent back in time. Kenobi looked all the same and all different. His eyes still sparkled that electrifying blue, his beard still sat neatly around his face, and his lips still pulled in a small smile. He’d grown his hair out though; the auburn locks were tinted with gray at his temples and fell to his shoulders, the top half tied back.

And Cody was just as taken with him as he’d ever been.

The cadet seemed unsurprised, however, merely looking over and smiling. “Prime?”

Cody pulled himself out of his stun to grin at the boy again. “The very same.”

“Did you ask Tsad’alor Cody your questions, dear?” Kenobi asked. “He’s very busy taking care of you and all your brothers, so we mustn’t take up too much of his time.”

“Master Obi-Wan, he told me to just call him Cody,” the boy chastised.

Cody and Kenobi hid their matching grins.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Just Cody, then.”

The boy sighed. “I asked Master Obi-Wan if the slowing treatment hurts and he said he didn’t know because he didn’t have it but I really want to know because I… a-and I know we have to be brave because we’re soldiers, but I’m scared, Ori’vod”

Cody’s heart just about broke in two. “I know big things like this are very frightening. I was nervous before I had the treatment and I–” he cut himself off; he didn’t want to frighten the kid with tales of the procedures the first few generations had undergone at the hands of the Kaminoans. “I’ve been through a lot of scary treatments. But our vode jah’ade are the best of the best and the jetiise who look after you all are the kindest there are.”

The boy nodded, but still seemed apprehensive.

“We don’t always need to be brave, vod,” he continued. “We don’t need to be anything we don’t want to be. Mhi cuy mav jii.”

“Mhi cuy mav jii,” the cadet repeated slowly. It was something many of the clones had taken to saying, like a quiet remembrance for their past and a hopeful prayer for their future.

After another moment, his eyes lit up. Cody recognized that particular spark. “Cody?”

“Yes, vod?”

“I know my name,” he breathed. “Mav.”

Cody smiled, letting all his pride bleed into it. “It has been so wonderful to meet you, Mav.”

Mav smiled back at him, but then he pounced, wrapping Cody in a tight hug. “Vor’e, Cody!”

Mav ran over to the General, beaming up at him.

“Mav is a good name,” he told him. “It suits you, little one. Will you wait for me in the hallway?”

“Yes, Master Obi-Wan,” Mav chirped, happily leaving.

“And please don’t wander off this time!” he called after him. “I don’t want to have to send Hound after you again!”

Kenobi looked back at Cody, making his way toward him and they both broke out into light laughter.

“How have you been, General?” Cody asked. “Last I heard, you’ve busied yourself with the cadets?”

“Yes,” Kenobi chuckled. “It seems like an entire war surrounded by your brothers wasn’t quite enough.”

“I’ve been surrounded by my brothers my whole life and I cannot see the appeal,” Cody shrugged.

The General smiled. “Well, I do admit that not all of them are as charming as you.”

Cody felt that old familiar ache in his chest, like he was being towed in on a fishing line. He breathed a laugh.

Kenobi sighed, turning away. “I’ve embarrassed you; I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Cody stammered. “You haven’t, at all. I guess…”

Kenobi stepped a little closer to him. “You guess?”

Cody held his breath for a moment to keep from sighing. Kenobi was wearing the same fragrance as he had that night at 79s. Warm, hints of some kind of spice, and all too easily flooding his senses and pulling him closer.

“I, um– I guess I’ve fallen out of the habit of receiving your compliments, sir,” he managed. “They’re not unwelcome, of course, just… unexpected.”

Kenobi smiled and chuckled. Cody could feel his heart hammering against his ribs.

“Cody, I-I feel I must tell you something,” he said, his smile fading slightly. “I couldn’t tell you during the war, and by the end we so rarely saw one another.”

“Yes?” Cody whispered. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Kenobi bit his lip, glancing away, but quickly closed the short distance between them. His lips pressed softly against Cody’s cheek for a moment, then near his ear.

“Gar cuy ori'jaon'yc bah ni, ratiin.”

Cody’s mouth opened with a soft gasp as Kenobi pulled away smiling. Somehow, his mind was simultaneously blank and overflowing with thoughts.

Kenobi nodded a goodbye, then left to find Mav. Cody had spent the last year ignoring the ache of missing General Kenobi, but it came in full force as he watched him walk away, chatting with one of his little brothers.

He kissed him. High Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Negotiator, a Jedi Master and member of the Jedi Council kissed him? Of course, it was only on the cheek, but it was so soft that he could only really describe it as tender.

His shaking hand touched his cheek–where General Kenobi kissed him–just at the end of his scar.

Wait. Wait, did Kenobi–

He replayed the moment in his mind, trying desperately to focus on what happened after he kissed him.

“Gar cuy ori’jaon’yc bah ni, ratiin.”

General Kenobi spoke mando’a, and fluently at that. No mispronunciations, no hesitance.

Cody moved to his desk, flopping down in the chair and tapping the comm unit to call Rex.

“Hey, aren’t you at work? What’s up?”

“Rex, does General Kenobi know mando’a?”

The line was quiet for a moment. “What?”

“Does Kenobi know mando’a?” Cody repeated.

“Am I a kriffin’ holonet search?” Rex scoffed. “Why would I know that?”

“Ask Skywalker, then,” Cody huffed.

“Cody, Anakin’s not–”

“Come on, Rex, I can hear his tubies in the background.”

Rex snorted. “The natborns call them babies, Codes. Anakin’s not here, but maybe Padmé will know.”

Cody heard the comm unit click against something and Rex’s retreating footsteps. He could hear Rex and Amidala’s voices, but couldn’t make out the words.

Then there were footsteps, and rustling.

“Are you still there?” Senator Amidala asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “How are you, Senator?”

Amidala groaned. “You know better, Cody. Try again.”

Cody chuckled. “How are you, Padmé?”

“I’m doing very well, thank you, Cody.” He could hear the snarky grin in her voice. “Now, you want to know if Obi-Wan speaks mando’a?”

“Yes,” Cody breathed. He felt like he was very close to the edge of something, but he couldn’t tell if it would be better to stay that way or to simply fall.

“Well, it wouldn’t surprise me,” she said. “That man collects languages like they were rare antiques.”

“That’s an understatement,” he heard Rex scoff in the background.

“And he did spend a year on Mandalore protecting our friend Satine,” she continued. “I’m sure she taught him some mando’a… between everything else I’m sure she taught him.”

Cody’s mind whirled as Rex laughed loudly in the background and Padmé chuckled.

“When did he…”

“Oh, it was years ago, long before the war. They hadn’t even found Anakin– actually, I’m not sure he’d even been born.”

Cody felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “He… understood mando’a… the entire time?”

“He never said anything?” Rex asked. “The vode talked around him like they did with everyone and he never mentioned it?”

“Kriff,” he said simply. “Oh, kriff.”

“What is it?” Padmé asked. “I thought that would be nice.”

“Rex, do you remember that night we went to 79s and General Kenobi bought us drinks?”

The comm was quiet. “Yeah, yeah, Gregor and I left to give you two some space, but you never told me everything that happened that night. All I know is what you put on that damn spreadsheet you had.”

“I’m sorry, what spreadsheet?” Padmé asked, her voice filled with delight.

Cody heard Rex mumble something about "you and Ahsoka" and “later”.

“I gotta go,” Cody mumbled.

He heard them answer, but he couldn’t quite process anything beyond the short tone that indicated the end of the call.

Cody sat in his office, brow furrowed, waiting for his brain to actually start working.

Rex: cody

Rex: when was the last time you looked at your spreadsheet

Cody: What? I stopped adding to it after that night. You know that.

Rex: yeah okay but when did you look at it

Rex: codes you still there

Cody: Yes; I was thinking. I believe I looked at it near the end of the war, right before we shipped off to rebuild Christophsis. Why?

Rex: you might want to look at it

Rex: like now

Cody: Why?

Event: My dear, oblivious Commander left his datapad unattended on his desk with this document still open

Rational explanation: Cody is once again overtired from working so incredibly hard (as he is wont to do) and simply forgot to power down the datapad, too distracted by his sense of duty and work ethic, as admirable as they are detrimental to his sleep

Irrational explanation: The Commander shares in my affections but is simply so oblivious to my (rather obvious) signals that he feels the need to rationalise our interactions instead of accepting that we are, and indeed have been, flirting

Additional notes: In regard to the above: it meant everything and more to me, my darling x

Cody was getting out of the taxi before he even realized he’d gotten up from his desk.

He’d accompanied the General to the Jedi Temple on several occasions, but he’d only come here alone once for his Deceleration treatment. Even then, Rex was already there, waiting for him.

Their security was far more lax than Cody thought it should be, though he assumed their jetii’dral would alert them better than any other system would.

“Hello,” a soft voice called. “Can I help you find where you’re going?”

He looked up the flight of stairs before him, his heart warming to see a familiar face.

“Why, Cody,” General Ti smiled. “It’s been some time since you last visited.”

“Too long, Gen- Master Ti,” he agreed.

“You look like you’re on a mission,” she hummed. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Cody felt his face flush slightly. “Actually, I’m looking for Gen- Master Kenobi.”

She smiled and gestured for him to follow her. “I’m sure it wouldn’t surprise you that Obi-Wan keeps a fairly regular schedule these days.”

“Not at all,” Cody agreed. “During the war, he always said our schedules were like ‘organized chaos’.”

Master Ti laughed lightly. “Yes, that does sound like him. Well, there’s only a few places he would be at this time; I’m sure we’ll find him quickly.”

Cody followed her through the halls until they got to an area labeled “Crèche”.

A stern looking Togruta met Master Ti as they entered, but soon they were surrounded by cadets and younglings, all clamoring for Master Ti’s attention.

“Alright, alright, I promise I will look at all of your lovely drawings,” she laughed, quieting the kids. “But first, I need your help. Our friend Cody is looking for Master Obi-Wan.”

“He was with the little ones!” one of the kih’vod shouted.

“Kybuck Clan,” an Initiate added.

Ti looked back towards Cody. “Do you know where their room is? Master Kiish can show you–”

“That’s alright, Masters,” Cody grinned. “You both seem to have your hands full here.”

He waved goodbye to the cadets that had been watching him and continued down the hallway, passing grand doors with elaborate designs with the symbols of the different creatures the clans were named for until he came across a Kybuck.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The rooms were circular, connected to one another in a way that reminded Cody a little of Kamino, but much warmer. And drier.

Little scraps of flimsi covered practically any surface of the main room, colorful drawings of just about anything a young mind could imagine. They were scribbled and hard to make out, with scrawled lettering Cody could hardly read. His smile grew as he looked at them all the same.

He heard a soft sigh and approaching footsteps.

“That’s the last of the down for their naps,” Kenobi said, pulling his robe back on. “I’ll be back tomorrow for–”

Kenobi looked up, his eyes widening when he saw Cody and not whatever jetii he’d been expecting.

“Hello there,” Cody whispered.

Kenobi gathered himself quickly. “I must admit I’m surprised to see you again so soon.”

“A good surprise, I hope,” Cody smiled.

Kenobi nodded. “A good surprise, indeed.”

Kenobi led him back through the crèche, pausing every so often to talk to the various little ones who ran up to him.

“You’re quite popular around here,” Cody noted, then added nervously “We can talk another time–”

“No, please,” Kenobi said quickly. “I’d like to talk now.”

They were quiet as Kenobi led them up to his room. It was neat and warm, and Cody felt comfortable there almost immediately.

“Would you like some caf?” Kenobi offered after insisting that Cody sit down at the small table.

Cody chuckled. “You actually keep caf in here?”

“Anakin visits,” he hummed with a shrug. “And Ahsoka is studying for some exams. Do you still like it black?”

“Actually, I haven’t had as much since the end of the war,” Cody admitted. He could feel his cheeks warming slightly. “I’ve been drinking more tea lately.”

Kenobi lit up, his smile widening as he turned back to face Cody. “Do you have a preference on what kind? Force knows I’ve got a variety.”

“You pick,” Cody smirked. “I trust your good taste.”

Kenobi nodded and quickly turned away, but Cody could see the tips of his ears tinting pink.

As he sat there, watching his former General as he utilized the small kitchenette, he realized that he had no plan.

He was a Marshal Commander in the army. He made thousands of battle plans and decisions for two and a half years. He’d spent his entire life before that being trained for it. And yet, he’d read the addition from Kenobi and the only thing he’d come up with was to find Kenobi. He could practically hear every ori’vod and trainer he’d ever had berating him.

“So you take care of the little ones these days?” Cody piped up as Kenobi brought the kettle and mugs over.

“When I can,” he nodded. “I’m still on the Council and I do go on missions when needed, but I’ve always enjoyed working with the younglings.”

Cody smiled as he took a sip of his tea, recognizing the taste of spiced fruit. “This is from Alderaan, right?”

Kenobi smiled. “It is,” he confirmed.

“A gift from Chancellor Organa?”

“Yes,” Kenobi said, seeming somewhat bewildered. “How did you–”

“This is what you brought me before Ryloth,” Cody said.

Kenobi’s face turned red. “I… I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do,” he smirked, leaning towards his former General. “It’s like I told you, ‘you’re too important and too beautiful for me to forget anything about you,’ remember?”

Kenobi was speechless and Cody found that he loved being able to have this effect on him. He reached across the table, easing Kenobi’s mug from his hand and replacing it with his hand.

“Ni kar'taylir gar suvarir mando'a, ner jetii,” he breathed, locking his gaze onto those beautiful eyes. He watched as his cheeks turned so red he might’ve thought they’d catch fire. “And I know about your addition to my… stupid spreadsheet.”

“You do?” Kenobi whispered.

“I do, sir,” Cody admitted. “I’ve been such a fool. I thought I was imagining things or that it was just wishful thinking.”

“You didn’t imagine any of it,” Kenobi said. “In fact, there was a lot you didn’t include on your list.”

Cody chuckled. “Of course there was.” He squeezed Kenobi’s hand lightly, his thumb rubbing across his scarred knuckles. “Can you ever forgive me for how oblivious I’ve been?”

Kenobi smiled widely, setting Cody’s heart on fire. “There’s nothing to forgive, Cody.”

“I need you to know that I still feel the same as I always have,” Cody said. “Even when I pushed you away, trying to act professionally. I was and am completely in love with you. And I always will be, Obi-Wan.”

He’d never dared to say the General’s first name aloud, but the feeling of it in his mouth was addictive. He watched Obi-Wan tremble slightly.

“Oh, Cody,” Obi-Wan sighed. He stood, pulling Cody from his chair and closer to him. Instinctively, Cody wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist, pulling him tightly against his chest.

“I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say that,” Obi-Wan said, his hand gently cupping the side of Cody’s face. His thumb traced over the end of his scar. “I’m in love with you, Cody. You’ve had my heart from the moment I met you.”

Together, at last, they closed the space between them, their lips meeting softly, yet full of passion and heat.

When they pulled away they were breathless, simply smiling at one another.

“What now?” Cody whispered. “I love you and you love me, so what’s next?”

Obi-Wan smiled, pressing another soft kiss to his lover’s lips. “Whatever we want, my dear.”

↫ Previous Chapter

Thank you all so much for your love and support! I'm so happy that so many people enjoyed this self-indulgent project. Please make sure you go give love on the original!!! 💛💛💛

Thanks for reading! - River

Untitled Spreadsheet - PRIVATE Master List DangRaccoon Master List Tag List Form Read on AO3

Tags: @nekotaetae @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @lokigirlszendaya @nomercyforthewarrior @Padawancat97 @idoubleswearimawriter @wishyouthetest @orangez3st @Amiacatholicoracat-holic @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

#DangRaccoon #Dang writing #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #codywan #the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #tcw #tcw fanfiction #Untitled Spreadsheet - PRIVATE

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moriartyluver · 2 months ago

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FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER XXXI

"(NAME)..."

He whispered, her name a prayer on his lips. "(Name), I'm sorry.."

His eyelashes fluttered, wincing at the pain in his left eye. He stared up at the ceiling. Where on earth was he? Why wasn't he dead? Where was (Name)?

"It's been a while, your grace," The brunette spoke as her friend climbed into the carriage with her.

"It's not been that long," she muttered, voice strained. "And you can still call me by my name.."

Josephine managed to choke out a laugh. "It's been a few months since your last visit, (Name). Have you found a worthy suitor perhaps? Is that what's keeping you from us?"

"You know how picky I am," (name) scoffed, glancing out the carriage window. "How is everyone?"

"They're coping." She stated. "I know you're still processing everything, losing William, losing the baby, your father's illness...but I really think it would be better if you visited more frequently. The team needs you.." Josephine explained. "I mean, we're grateful that you're more in touch than you used to be, after William died."

"I was busy with battles." (Name) sighed, glancing down at her feet. Since her father had taken ill and retired, she often found herself working alongside her mother to serve (home country), even if she was fighting against the British.

She felt shame, anger, grief...frankly so many emotions she couldn't tell which was which. Which is why she had decided on not feeling any of them.

"Besides, you know I can't do that.." she mumbled. "I'm the grand duchess now, I have responsibilities.. and the tension between (home country) and Britain is even worse than it once was because of me, even after the ceasefire." She explained, fiddling with her maroon coloured sleeves. "I must clean up my mess, so to speak.."

Josephine could only hum and nod. "I know.." After a few moments of awkward silence, she spoke up again. "If it isn't a man involved, then how else are you faring?"

"Who's to say there isn't a man?" (Name) spoke.

"So there is?" Josephine echoed, a slight smirk on her lips.

"I didn't say there wasn't."

"Well," She hummed again. "Is he from here or (home country) or another place you've been since becoming grand duchess?"

(Name) leaned her head against the curtain clad window of the carriage. "Partially..I believe his mother was from France , his father from (Home Country), an earl, close friends with my father."

"Mm..have you..?" Josephine trailed off, giving her old friend a knowing look.

"Occasionally..it's mostly physical.." It was true. She couldn't handle anything more after her unfortunate marriage. "I knew him when we were younger, he used to be friends with my brother, despite being much younger than him. He worked with my mother for a while whilst I was still married too. You must've met him, when we went to (home country) together when my father was sick the first time."

"Was he the one who was much too friendly with you?"

"Yes, that one." She nodded. "As long as I can continue the (last name) family line it doesn't matter."

"It's been over two years, (Name)," Josephine reminded her. "You've not allowed yourself to grieve neither your husband nor child, not even once..The wounds are still fresh. I don't even think I've seen you wear black once since that day."

She had a point. (Name) knew she did. Naturally, she missed William every day, but..

"Why would I ever want to love you?"

"No point in grieving a man I never loved." She stated coldly. "I wouldn't have been a good mother anyways.."

"Yes you would," Josephine insisted. "You practically raised me, taught me how to read, how to write..I am who I am because of you."

(Name) glanced over at the girl briefly. "And I'm sorry..." she whispered, feeling as thought Josephine's life would've been much better without all the senseless murder and politics (Name) brought her into.

Josephine tried to brush the comment off, not wanting to start an argument the moment she had seen her dearest (Name) after many months. "So..how did you meet him, this mystery man?"

"I already told you. He worked with my mother, and I already knew him beforehand" (name) said, furrowing her eyebrows.

"You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't."

Josephine sighed, her voice dropping to a whisper. "How longer have you been sleeping with him...?"��

(Name) chewed the inside of her cheek. Should she tell the truth..?

"A few years.."

"A few years? And you didn't tell me?" Josephine asked. "How long are talking?"

"Maybe three or four.." She stated, waiting for a reaction.

Josephine narrowed her greyish blue eyes, pausing for a moment. "Three or four..? That was before William—"

"I know."

"You had an affair?" Josephine asked, unintentionally sounding more judgemental than she intended.

"So what if I did?" (Name) retorted, a frown on her tired face. "Don't sound so surprised."

"I'm not—" She cut herself off, eyes widening. "I mean, not that I'm not surprised or..I'm just..I didn't mean for it to sound rude but did William not know of this? At least before he died.."

'Great going, Josephine. So much for avoiding any awkward topics.' She thought to herself.

"It was only during that five months we were away, before moving to Durham." (Name) explained, avoiding Josephine's gaze, her fingers fidgeting with her gloves. "And that was before William and I.." her face flushed at the memory. "But when I went back after he died, we reconnected..long story, really."

"Is it reconnecting if you're doing no talking?"

"Josephine!" (Name) scolded. "We talk, I'll have you know."

"So..are you going to marry him?" Josephine asked.

(Name) shrugged. "If he proposed, I wouldn't say no."

"So that's a yes?"

"I suppose."

"Your grace! How lovely to see you again! Everything has been well maintained in your absence."

With the inheritance of the title, came the Grand Duchess' British estate, which (name) barely stated in prior to William's passing. She often would visit to make sure everything was doing well, or store extra supplies there when necessary, but considering it was in the countryside, a couple of hours away from London, she rarely visited in her youth.

"Thank you," she told the maid coldly. "Please have dinner sent to my room. I have important matters to attend to."

The middle aged woman nodded, rushing off to pass on the message immediately.

(Name) eventually made her way to her bedroom, falling onto the bed dramatically with a sigh. She wouldn't even be staying here, had it been the only place of residence left untouched by William.

Well, he had stated with her once, on the night of their honeymoon, but that was in a guest room down the hall, which she hadn't opened, nor allowed to be cleaned since then.

"The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?"

(Name) sat up, facing the glass door to the balcony. In rising moonlight, she saw a shirtless figure with his back facing her, glancing over his shoulder with glassy scarlet eyes. She looked at him, mouth agape as he smiled bitterly. She blinked. He was gone.

'Asshole. Can't even leave me alone after his death..' she thought to herself, tears brimming in her eyes.

She groaned, rubbing at her eyes. Her mind had grown the habit of playing tricks on her ever since, driving her into a state of borderline madness. Any time she would be reminded of her deceased husband, he would appear like an apparition, haunting her each chance he had.

She sat up, grasping onto her bedpost to stabilise herself whilst she walked over to the adjourning office, reaching out to grab a packet of cigarettes, taking one into her mouth and lighting it. She sat at the desk, looking for paper and a pen to write with. (Name) inhaled the smoke, still not used to the sensation of the habit she only recently adopted.

'Dear..' she thought to herself as the pen touched the paper, moving in smooth strokes. She was attempting to write a letter to her current lover but she couldn't stop thinking of him.

She coughed, choking on the smoke filling her lungs. (Name) spat the cigarette out, reaching out for a glass of water on her desk as she tried to calm down, spilling down her chin and onto the paper, ruining the letter.

"Fuck." She cursed under her breath, a much less harmful habit she had grown to have. (Name) took the paper, scrunching it into a jagged ball and tossed it to the side, pulling out a crisp piece of parchment to write on, still smoking her cigarette.

She wrote the letter as intended, replying to her lover's letter she had received prior to her arrival in England, intending to send it off by morning. Occasionally she would refer to him with the wrong name, resulting in her having to start over again and again. Eventually she had finished writing, falling asleep against the cold surface of her desk out of exhaustion.

Once she awoke, she glanced around. She wasn't in her office, hell, she wasn't even in England. She was in (home country), lying against her desk in her bedroom. (Name) glanced to the side, looking at her reflection whilst the only light came from a small candle a few inches away from her. It was a wonder her hair hadn't caught on fire.

(Name) stood, inspecting herself in the mirror. She was so much more youthful, wearing a dress William had gifted her, claiming it complimented her eyes. There were dark circles under her eyes but not nearly as dark as they were now..her face had a little more life to it, chubbier even. She hadn't realised she'd lost so much weight over the years, and it seemed her new habit of chain-smoking didn't help. A knock came to the door.

She stood, opening the wooden double doors, enough to see who it was. Adrién Montazeri. Her mother's most recent political protege. She had seen him occasionally, offering a polite smile, polite conversation etcetera, mainly because he was acquainted with her older brother before his passing over a decade ago. He was handsome, (name) had to give him that, a sharp face and soft brown eyes, paired with his dirty blond hair. In fact, he's grown into quite the man since (Name) had last seen him before leaving for England when she was sixteen. How old was he back then? Nineteen?

"What is it? Is there something wrong?" She heard herself ask, as if she was merely spectating one of the worst mistakes of her life.

"Everything's fine. I was just dropping off some papers," He stated with a smile, nudging the doors wider. "I just decided to stop by..I heard a few noises and I assumed you were awake."

"You assumed correctly." She hummed, pushing the door further open. He glanced over her frame, admiring her beauty, even whilst tired.

"Don't tell me you're working at this hour..." Adrién sighed, glancing at her desk. "I suppose the Grand Duke's illness has put some pressure on you."

"Nothing I can't handle." She stated curtly, grabbing a robe to cover herself up. "Besides, if I don't do it, who will? My mother?"

The blond nodded, acknowledging her point. "Fair enough...although I must say, you work yourself much too hard, my lady."

"No need for the formalities," she spoke again, listening, watching as this all played out. "We are friends, are we not?"

"Friends." He hummed. Both of them knew there was chemistry between them. "As your friend, I must say, politics at midnight? It's enough to drive anyone mad."

"I'm not just anyone, dear Adrién. "

"No, of course not." He said, almost in awe of her.

"What are you really doing here? " she asked after a moment, approaching him once more.

"I assume you mean to ask what I'm doing, imposing on a married woman of honour like this?" He asked in return, leaning into her.

(Name) shrugged. Her marriage really meant nothing to her, at least back then anyways. "I suppose."

She swallowed, her eyes darting to the half covered window. It was rather late. Perhaps everyone was asleep by now. She shut her eyes tightly, wishing to wake up, hoping he'd leave and she wouldn't make the mistake which later cost William his life. She opened her eyes again.

He was still here.

"I'm married." She repeated more firmly this time, furrowing her eyebrows.

"You're right..you're a woman of great honour..I'm sorry for bothering you," he said, eyes softening. "I just can't seem to want to return to my place of residence.." he paused, giving (name) a look she would only ever see with the likes of William. "Tell me, when was the last time you've had a break?"

"Does it matter?" She raised a brow, backing away. This wasn't appropriate behaviour for a married woman. "Frankly, I should send you away." She whispered, unsure if she would be able to control herself after remaining abstinent since she had been engaged to William.

"Then say it." Adrien raised a brow, not entirely convinced. He noticed her backing away, following forward until her legs hit the bed. He would stop if she wanted him to, but it was very clear by her body language that she couldn't help but want this, want him.

"You're far too much like a man I know."

He let out a chuckle at that, seating her comfortably on the bed, grabbing each thigh gently, albeit seductively, and spread them apart to slot himself into. His hands slid along her thighs, making her shiver, thumbs stroking upwards in teasing arcs as he pushed them further apart for him.

'No,' she thought frantically, forced to watch her mistakes over and over again. 'No, no — stop. Get up. This is wrong. You're William's wi—'

But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. She wanted this. Or at least, the version of her in this memory did.

He hovered over her, gently pushing her body against the mattress. Her breath caught in her throat, heat radiating between them as Adrien leaned in to kiss her.

She should've stopped him.

But he looked at her the way she almost wished William would. Treated her like an equal, desiring her..if she could just pretend for a moment..

"You shouldn't," (Name) heard herself say again.

Something flickered in his eyes. He paused, but decided against leaving her and instead pressed his lips to hers. They were soft, gentle almost. She recalled the time at her wedding when William kissed her and she could've sworn it was the most pleasant moment she'd ever had with a man.

It was devastating — slow and deep. Her fingers curled into the sheets, trying to resist the urge to touch him. He kissed like he was claiming her, his hands knew how to ignite her body with arousal.

She wanted to pull away.

And yet, she kissed him back.

She couldn't do anything but watch her past self submit to his touch, melting into every kiss as if she was not betraying her husband. She told herself he didn't love her, that their marriage didn't mean anything. And yet, her conscience screamed William's name as her lips parted for Adrién's tongue.

She wanted this.

"Where on earth am I?" A certain blond muttered to himself. He looked around, feeling a sharp pain in his left eye. Wincing, he got up, trying to ignore the ache throughout his body. Eventually, after putting on some clothes he found lying around, he made his way to the rooftop, sitting on a bench amongst fresh laundry, flowing in the air.

He had lived. Whilst the weather may have been lovely, this wasn't heaven, not that he would end up there anyways. And despite the pain he felt physically, this wasn't hell either.

He was alive.

His thoughts, ever since he awoke, became so full of (Name). Was she still alive? Did she forgive him after receiving his letter? He doubted that, but he had some hope.

A selfish part of him desired nothing more than to find her, have her back on his arms where she belonged. The more reasonable part of him decided he had to let her live. She may not even forgive him, and god knows what wounds he might open up for her. It'd be better to let her move on.

What about their son? Did he look more like her, or did he take after his father? If he did, could she bring herself to love him even if she was forced to remember William each time she looked at him? He would have been nearly three years old by now.

The selfish part of him spoke again. Even if (name) didn't love him, even if she had moved on, he wanted to see their son. As an orphan, he wasn't sure he'd be a good father, in fact he was almost certain of it. (Name) will be a good mother. He had seen her interact with children on multiple occasions, and despite her violent behaviour with him especially, she was kind, nurturing...much like the ideal for any mother.

He had sat there for what seemed like hours, longing for his wife, until he felt a dip in the bench.

"Thank you, Liam."

He looked to his feet, taking a deep breath, feeling his lungs fill with fresh air. Sherlock smiled beside him, glad his friend was alive.

"I should be the one thanking you, Sherly."

Sherlock raised a brow.

"It's as you said, 'death is no atonement'.." William continued. "I just wanted to avert my eyes from my sins..it's because of you that I can truly feel that way, from the bottom of my heart. But...it's blank."

"I'd never once thought about it..that my story would have a continuation.." He spoke, voice on the verge of cracking, whether it be due to his condition or something else, he couldn't tell. "It's so unseemly of me, Sherly..I don't know what I should do from here on." William paused, correcting himself. "No..to be precise, I know what I must do. But as for the right way to go about carrying out that duty...right now I don't have the answer. All this time, I've never been interested in myself as a person..and so when it came to myself, all of a sudden, I didn't know what to do..the only other person who..." He bit his lip, his mind returning to her once more. "That day when you saved me, my world had changed..and now, everything feels so dear to me.."

He paused, taking in the bright sky, looking over the city as the wind blew through his blond hair.

"This world, truly is beautiful, isn't it?"

Sherlock felt his lips twitch upwards in a smile, standing up and gazing at the sky. He held up his thumb and finger on either hand, making a rectangle in the air. "Ain't a blank canvas just spiffin'? You can paint whatever you like..if it's an answer you've arrived at after a struggle, then no matter what it is..no matter who it is..it'll be the right one."

William parted his lips to speak, biting back his tongue to prevent himself breaking into tears.

"So, struggle on, William.." Sherlock said, crouching in front of his friend. "You've taken your first steps towards living. And if you were able to take that step..then I'm sure you can paint any kind of future."

"Do you think she'll still want me?"

Sherlock gave William a knowing look. "...I think that's up to her to decide."

#—false lovers 💋#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #liam moriarty #moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty

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pinktwingirl · 2 years ago

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One argument I’ve been hearing a lot of people make is “why do queer people support Palestine? They’d kill you for being gay lol”

a. Saying that every single Palestinian is homophobic is incredibly bigoted and disrespectful to queer Palestinians and Palestinian allies

b. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that every Palestinian is a homophobe/transphobe. Would that justify committing genocide against them? Is that seriously what you’re saying? I don’t like homophobes. I don’t like racists. I don’t like Nazis. But I would never advocate for them to be literally burned alive with white phosphorus and have their children bombed. Please, for the love of god, stop being a bloodthirsty monster for one fucking second and think about this rationally. When did we decide that holding people accountable for bigotry meant torturing and murdering them? Having compassion and a value for human life is what separates you from bigots. I am beyond outraged at the cruelty Netanyahu and zionists have shown to Palestinians, and yes, I do think that they should be tried and condemned for the war crimes they have committed. But I am not going to sink to their level and take joy in people’s suffering, and neither should you.

There is no justification for Israel’s mass murder of Palestinians. None. At all. If you have any humanity at all, you NEED to call for a ceasefire and the release of both Israeli and Palestinian hostages. The more people that are killed, the worse this is going to get. Stop playing into the hands of war profiteers for once and do what’s right.

#palestine #israel #free palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #lgbtq #benjamin netanyahu #anti zionisim #ceasefire #ceasefire now #gaza #free gaza

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reasonsforhope · 2 years ago

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Heads up/warning that I'm going to start posting articles related to the Israel-Palestine War

I've worked really, really hard to keep my blog about positive news only, and that's going to continue - these posts will be only about good news related to the war.

Of which there really, really isn't much, so I don't know that there will be a lot of posts, but I will be posting articles about humanitarian aid reaching those who need it and actions that will prevent more lives from being taken.

I know that, no matter my position on the war, this is something that would be very controversial and make a lot of people upset, so I wanted to be explicit about my position on this - and my posting policy, which is not the same thing. I also wanted to give people a heads up because I know the war in general is really, really triggering for a lot of people right now, for a lot of different reasons. I'll be tagging all relevant posts, so if screening those out is something that you need to do, you can.

I have worked very hard to make this blog a space with only good news because I know how much it can matter to have just one place, if nowhere else, that you can count on to not give you emotional whiplash with horrible news. To know you have one place you can go where you are guaranteed not to see bad news that will send you into a tailspin. That's why I've had a policy of not including signal boosts or PSAs about tragedies, no matter what they are, on this blog. (I do post about some of that stuff, including the Israel-Palestine War, on my main blog, though. I consider this blog to be me trying to run a public service, basically, and so have specific policies for myself around that, including my editorial and fact-checking standards.)

I'm going to be honest, I was really, really hoping the war would end after a couple of weeks, which has historically not been uncommon for wars with/involving Israel.

But that's clearly not happening, and I can't keep not acknowledging what's happening on here, so, this post.

With that, I imagine people probably want to know my actual stance on the war, since that's what I'll be posting in accordance with.

So, here's the official stance of this blog:

Every time a civilian is killed, it is a tragedy; Every time a child is killed, it is a tragedy, no matter their nationality. I condemn all antisemitism and all Islamophobia.

I support all calls for a ceasefire, as well as demands that Israel immediately stop its repeated bombing of hospitals, ambulances, shelters (including UN shelters), and refugee camps.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of hospitals is justified.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of shelters or refugee camps is justified.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of ambulances is justified.

There is no situation in which the killing of children is justified. Yet more children have now been killed in Gaza than in all global conflict zones combined in each year since 2019.

There is no situation in which cutting off an entire country and/or territory's supply of food and water is justified.

Yes, this applies to every group involved in the war, including countries supplying either side, and any countries or non-state organizations who may yet join the fighting.

The initial Hamas attack on Israel was a tragedy. The continued Israeli bombardment and invasion of Palestine is also a tragedy.

Most of the things I post will be about aid reaching Palestinians or news about tangible, confirmed progress toward a ceasefire. I probably will not be posting good news posts about aid reaching Israel, unless it's explicitly and only humanitarian and/or barring drastic unforeseen changes in circumstance. This is because as of yesterday, November 7, the Palestinian death toll is over 10,000 to Israel's roughly 1,400 (only about 200 of whom have been killed in the past month, starting on October 8, aka outside of the initial attack by Hamas). At least 3,195 children have died in Gaza, 33 in the West Bank, and 29 in Israel.

The Palestinian death toll is nearly 8 times the Israeli death toll. The number of children killed is 110 times higher in Palestine than Israel. (Source for death toll here, ratios via calculator.) Every single one of those deaths is a tragedy - and there have been far, far too many tragedies this past month.

(On a related note, Israel stands very, very little chance of actually eliminating Hamas with this war. The US has attempted this same strategy and failed many times: the US failed to eliminate the communist/North Korean regime in the Korean War, which is technically still ongoing 70 years later; failed to eliminate the Viet Cong in the Vietnam War; failed to eliminate numerous groups of Iraqi insurgents in the Iraq War, which triggered Iraq's civil war; and failed to eliminate the Taliban in the Afghanistan War, even though that war lasted for literally 20 years. Afghanistan is once again under total Taliban control.)

The last thing we need is another 20 year war. The last thing we need is more civilian deaths. Bombing civilian settlements, as well as hospitals, shelters, and refugee camps are war crimes under international law, meaning that both Israel and Hamas have committed war crimes.

It's time for the war crimes to stop.

Humanitarian aid reaching civilians is good news, and I will be posting accordingly.

Ceasefire now.

#also heads up that I'm turning off anon on here because well it seems prudent #I'm not actually going to litigate technicalities numbers or international politics with anyone #I don't plan to talk much more about this aside from the aforementioned posts #including probably not answering any asks #because I really am trying to keep my content based only on good news #any asks that are trolling or threatening or supporting the deaths of any civilians on either side or are obviously in bad faith #will be deleted immediately #which has always been my blog policy btw so that's not anything new #I do actually get a certain number of troll and insulting asks/replies and I just delete them #also I reserve the right to turn off asks altogether but hopefully there won't be any need for that #mostly those happen whenever I have a new anti Trump post #gaza #save gaza #palestinians #isreal #free palestine #gazaunderattack #israel palestine war #international politics #cw child death #tw war #tw war crimes #tw child death #tw bombing #ceasefire #ceasefire now

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spot-the-antisemitism · 6 months ago

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Hey, genuine question here because I’m really confused about the phrase “anti-zionism is antisemitism.” Why do you think that? After spending over a year now watching the Israeli Government:

Admit to intentionally depriving the entirety of Gaza of food, water, and electricity. (Israel: Starvation Used as Weapon of War in Gaza | Human Rights Watch)

Engage in Collective Punishment and various other heinous war crimes. (Same source as above)

Target civilian infrastructure under the guise of them being fronts for Hamas. Which even if they were (something there is no definitive evidence of) would still be vile. (Security Council Debates Israeli Attacks on Hospitals Allegedly Misused by Hamas, as UN Rights Chief Urges Independent Probes | Meetings Coverage and Press Releases)

Actively claim via government funded video that there are “no innocent civilians in Gaza” despite the fact that 44% of the reported casualties have been children. (Yes I acknowledge that the Ministry of Health is run by Hamas, however Israel is actively banning journalists from entering Gaza to confirm those statistics. Therefore forcing us to take them at face value because we have no other source.)(Israel posts video saying ‘there are no innocent civilians’ in Gaza)(Nearly 70% of Gaza war dead women and children - UN - BBC News)(More Than 13,000 Children Reported Dead in Gaza as Famine Nears | UNICEF USA)

Allow the IDF to do literally whatever the hell they want, allowing unjustified use of lethal force. We have reached a point where IDF soldiers literally are posting on tiktok bragging about bombing civilians. I’ve seen a nauseating amount of people calling Palestinian children “little Hamas members” or “future terrorists” to justify slaughtering them. (Open-Fire Policy | B'Tselem)

Killed more than 250 aid workers while purposefully targeting shelters and aid worker convoys. (Gaza: Israelis Attacking Known Aid Worker Locations | Human Rights Watch)

Labeled certain areas as “Safe Zones” and proceeding to bomb them anyway. (Urgent need for ceasefire as Israeli forces attack ‘safe zones’ in Rafah | Doctors Without Borders - USA)

Ignore their long history of massacring Palestinians decades before Hamas was founded. (ccrjustice.org)

So please, seriously, please do not tell me you genuinely think my hatred for the Israeli Government is antisemetic. I will condemn Hamas until the day I die but just as Israelis are not a monolith neither are Palestinians, and it is unfair to place sole blame on the Palestinians Tyrannical Government for the deaths of the innocent.

More Sources used to cross reference or with relevant information: (Latest massacres in Gaza's Middle Area illustrate complete disregard for Palestinian lives | Doctors Without Borders - USA)(Israeli MP Says It Clearly for World to Hear: 'Erase All of Gaza From the Face of the Earth' | Common Dreams)(Israel, The Targeted Killings Case | How does law protect in war? - Online casebook)(Al-Majdal)(Israeli Massacres: A Brief and Shocking History | Israel Palestine News)

I did my best to cross check all my sources for accurate information, however I am a human and not infallible so I may have made a mistake somewhere. I sincerely apologize if any of the information given in these sources is outdated or has been debunked with definitive evidence.

Thanks

Dear thanks,

I think that because entitled goyim like you still think thry can trot out some conspiracy theories like “genocide real” and “Israel caused the famine” with some propaganda ass source to justify why they hate Jews instead of just goosestepping honestly like most of y’all and demand I treat you will respect

you want respect you come off anon and give some actual ass sources with WORKING LINKS and dropped the “now that everyone hates will you stop playing hard to get and admit my goysplaining trumps your lived experience ” attitude, THEN we’ll talk

tankie goy punk fuck off,

Cecil

#Because of youbad faith #antizionism is antisemitism #Because of you #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #leftist brainrot #leftist hypocrisy #blocklist #tankie punks fuck off #antisemitic conspiracy theories #harassment

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ririsasy · 1 year ago

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About the scars

During this scene when Deva was eyeing Varadha's scars (my boy Varadha was so anxious he didn't know how to tell Deva that he needs him, look at his eyes moving around because he didn't feel like he has the right toward Deva, he was ashamed but he didn't have any other choice) I was wondering how Varadha got those scars and even after I watched the movie for a couple of times I still didn't know how he got the scars lmao I thought it was just from a fight that we didn't got to see on screen, just a scar to show us from Deva's perspective how hard the life in Khansaar have been for Varadha till he even got so many scars now on his body that Deva didn't even know about.

But they did show us how Varadha got the scars!! (I realized it when I watched it again tonight with my sis lol that's why I feel like the more I watch this movie the more I can appreciate Prashanth Neel as a director, he is so meticulous, I mean look at his blatant close up shot so we could see Varadha's fresh scars (and yet it escaped me for a couple of time lmao sorry Prashanth but your movie still so campy! Forgive me for losing focus) and he likes to call back on scenes making it like one perfect loops and Salaar is his masterpiece). It was from a first fight that break loose with Rangaa's gang that cause the whole ceasefire. probably from ranga's own blade because he was carrying a blade as he was running yet again toward Varadha before Rudra called him. It was fresh deep cut in this scene. That's how he got the scars, Rangaa made those scars 😭

Because here when he was first announced that he would be a Lord again he didn't get those scars on his face or behind his ear yet.

I was wondering how Deva going to take revenge to the person who put those scars on Varadha, they have solved everything apparently lol just like the way Deva would have wanted it, precisely like how that person wanted to cause harm to Varadha. Rudra said that Rangaa wanted to slit Varadha's throat when he barked in wanting to take Varadha's nose ring. And yes Ranga died by Varadha's blade as he slit his throat and Deva was there beside him watching like a grim reaper that he was when it came to making sure that vengeance is served according to their own threat to Varadha. (They can stab him or cut his head off or give him to his own rabid people that he made and let them consume him or whatever and yet he died by getting his throat slit open because this couple, varadeva, they both crazy and like to keep score.)

(Rudra boy just so you wait for your prideful mannar tribe nose ring you keep taunting Varadha with I can't wait for Deva to pull it off of you).

#Salaar #Varadeva #prithviraj sukumaran

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sweetfirebird · 18 days ago

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Also, before I get back to work, since the mainstream media is by and large failing us, we need to start doing their work for them. And by that I mean a few things.

One, turn to independent media and recommend it to others. Share posts from actual journalists and experts. If you are watching mainstream media--yes, even MSNBC--you need to start calling out the sanewashing or any incorrect information. CNN in particular is trying to fence sit right now. Call that shit out. Every incorrect fact. Every softball question. Every opportunity to press that is ignored. Comment sections aren't to argue with trolls and bots, though they will try. They are about sharing real info and showing people how many of us we are (and at the same time, encouraging news media to do their jobs.)

Two, do not let these people control the narrative. They aren't even that good at PR. Truly! They are good at appealing to MAGA culties! (Which doesn't take much more than a big cross necklace and a flag.) and the MSM is complicit by not pressing the lies and deflections. But really, truly, this admin is terrible at PR and optics. Abysmally bad. Look at his parade. Look at how, despite all the effort and money, no one has embraced Vance or even likes him. His biggest advisor is Miller, and they have to keep him away from the cameras because he is... like that.

Stop using their words and phrases for things. If ICE and DHS won't confirm their identities, refer to those people as "alleged ICE" or "unconfirmed government agents" or "people wearing ICE insignia." We have no idea who they are. The media should be stressing that. But they aren't.

Call it the Republican Reconciliation Package or the the Republican's bill to cut Medicare. Call it the bill to fund fascism. Call it the billionaire bill. Call it the bad math bill. It's not beautiful, though it is big.

Refer to Fox "News" as as Fox Entertainment, or Fox "News," or Faux News. (And boycott any business that plays it or demand they change the channel.) Do not call it news unironically. It isn't. It can't even legally call itself that in Canada. They are currently being sued for lying AGAIN.

Someone says what a great negotiator 47 is? Ask how many trade deals he has completed. How are those ceasefires (plural) he's working on going?

Sanewashing, btw, is defined as the practice of making irrational, extreme, or otherwise problematic people or ideas appear more reasonable or normal than they really are. It is especially used as a liberal criticism of coverage of conservative politics in mainstream media. (Merriam Webster) ie. "Should the President serve a third term?" even being asked as a question on the news at all. The answer should have been an immediate NO and explanations of why the Constitution forbids that, and then probably even comparing him to dictators around the world. But they didn't do that. And here we are.

And yes watching or listening to the indie news does make a difference. Fox Entertainment personalities (they aren't journalists) were shocked to realize how many millions of viewers, listeners, and subscribers the MeidasTouch had on spotify, apple, tiktok, and youtube. It matters.

#uspol

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temporoom · 2 months ago

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yessss!!! though about hg mdzs au: wei wuxian and jiang cheng being a mix of katniss and gale and peeta and jiang yanli of katniss and peeta and prim. because wei wuxian accidentally getting jin zixuan killed via friendly fire/jiang yanli getting on the battlefield and dying/being Very into gruesome deaths because they need to pay (way more than jiang "why waste time?" cheng) is very gale to me. katniss and peeta are also there - he's ready to die for his siblings (little does he know so are they :З), he can be very kind, he's one of the "stars" of sunshot campaign. then there's jiang cheng and leading the wens away, being tortured (heey peeta), whom wwx sacrificed his core for without even knowing about the first one, jiang cheng who somehow 'found people before wei wuxian showed up, the heir of almost entirely massacred sect, who doesn't have any experience or power to stop jgs from being all "chummy" with him ((realised he and haymitch actually. share a "all my friends/family are dead" sort of trope too. rip)). and then there's jiang yanli, who's the eldest daughter who had to take care of her younger siblings and is the soup enthusiast and is not a cultivator but still is in the camp, trying to help, who is in love with someone who completely misunderstands her ((lwj: #relatable)), jiang yanli who's soft spoken but will verbally murder you if you bully her brother(s), who was going to have an arranged marriage with someone she loved and then ended up marrying that someone when the engagement was no longer real.

yes yes yes!

I don't think we can do an exact 1:1 with hunger games and mdzs (because of course they're not the same stories) but I think they share a lot themes. Most notably, I totally agree with how you mention that there's some Gale in both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng because they definitely went full Gale during the sunshot campaign in the sense that they adhered the idea that when met with violence you must answer with violence: the end justify the means. But where Jiang Cheng fully becomes Gale while Wei Wuxian strays to become some sort of Katniss is with the Wen remnants. Because just like Prim dying, Wen Ning dying is the cold shower Wei Wuxian needed to realize how gruesome perpetuating the horrors of war is. They needed to fight, but they didn't need to continue the violence. Meanwhile Jiang Cheng is still stuck in his hatred, and he understands that what's happening is wrong, but at the same time it feels right to him due to his own beliefs and experience.

Funnily enough though, Lan Wangji makes a perfect Peeta because despite his suffering, he sincerely doesn't want to perpetuate the violences of the war... But since he is a pacifist at heart, he also turns a blind eye to it, and that's what Wei Wuxian's death teaches him: that it's by ignoring the problem at hand that we nurture it. Just like Peeta calling for a ceasefire in Mockingjay (though we still don't know if he was truly thinking it or if he was pressured by the Capitol).

I really think that MDZS is thematically that close to the Hunger Games, though with a more morally grey protagonist.

But to go back on the AU! The 1:1 isn't so much about the characters than about the thematics, with Lan Wangji representing pacifism and Jiang Cheng War. And in that sense Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan and the rest of the Jian Clan and the Wen remnants serve that same thematic purpose. (As in, who are you ready to sacrifice for the sake of revenge and who are you ready to tolerate for the sake of pacifism). Funnily enough, if we consider they are in some sort of equivalent to the Sunshot campaign, that means that Wei Wuxian protecting Wen Qing and Wen Ning is akin to Katniss protecting her preparation team. But I digress.

#hunger games au #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #analysis #I suppose?#wei wuxian #Jiang cheng #lan wangji #can you tell I love Jiang Cheng? I love Jiang Cheng #maybe I went a bit ahead of myself but I keep hearing about how mdzs is about class struggle when I always believed it was about war #I think both interpretations are correct but for something about class struggle they sure talk a lot about war and its consequences more #anyway I'm not here to start a debate I just want to share my thoughts #also can you tell i'm fascinated by Gale in THG? I'm fascinated by him #Like I'll never be team Gale but I think he's actually an excellent character especially in Mockingjay

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girlactionfigure · 1 year ago

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Some hard facts no one will tell you, but if you care about truth, you’ll want to know.

Let’s start with the most fundamental lie you’re being told.

“Israel occupied an Arab Palestinian state and stole their land.”

Sit down for this.

Such a state never existed in the history of the world. Don’t believe me? Try to find a date that the Arab Palestine was established. Try to find out who the president was. What currency did they use? What was their national anthem?

I’ll save you the time.

It never existed.

Onward….

The next blatant lie is “Israel occupied Gaza before October 7th, which is why Hamas attacked.”

Really?

Here. I’ll help you.

Open your web browser. Open Google. Type in “The Disengagement.”

2005. Israel forcefully removed 10,000 Israel from Gaza, dug up its dead (Yea, you read that right!) so Hamas wouldn’t rape (Yes, that’s a thing. Hamas raped corpses on October 7th.) the dead bodies, and handed the Palestinians Gaza on a silver platter for them to build a state.

The Palestinians pretty much immediately elected Hamas to govern them and chose a terror state over what could have been paradise.

There were zero Jews in Gaza on October 6th.

That’s not an opinion. It’s an indisputable fact.

Next…

Genocide. People love to use that word when describing the war in Gaza.

So there are a few ways to address this.

First of all, the numbers everyone keeps quoting are from Hamas, a terrorist organization that raped little girls and burned families alive.

Have you considered that maybe they’re lying?

But you know what? Let’s go with Hamas. What ridiculous number are they up to? 30,000? 40,000? You know what? Let’s go with 50,000.

50,000 dead in Gaza? Sure. How many of those were terrorists? Because according to the Gaza Health Ministry, out of those tens of thousands, zero of them were terrorists.

Cool. Makes sense…

But forget the numbers. Just kindly explain to me why Israel has lost hundreds of its soldiers in Gaza. Why didn’t Israel just attack from the air and flatten Gaza if genocide was what Israel was after?

How long would this war take if Israel didn’t send in soldiers and just dropped bombs on Gaza? Spoiler: It would have ended on October 8th.

Finally, do you know how those numbers, again, even according to Hamas’ fake numbers, compare to other wars and conflicts in the world? Syria, for example.

If the numbers in Gaza are so microscopic compared to other wars, why is it that you haven’t heard about a genocide going on anywhere else but Gaza?

“Ceasefire now!”

Here’s a little secret for ya.

There was a ceasefire! Wanna know when? On October 6th. Then Hamas broke it and attacked Israel.

Want a ceasefire? Great. So do I. Right after Hamas returns all the hostages and surrenders.

If you’re calling for a ceasefire and looking at Israel, you must be confused. Israel has offered a ceasefire so many times in this war, all of which Hamas rejected.

We all want a ceasefire. Don’t look at Israel. Look at Hamas who broke the ceasefire then proceeded to reject offers for a ceasefire over and over.

Ok, moving on…

“Jews love to pull the antisemitism card. There is no antisemitism. It’s just anti Zionism.”

Really now…?

Because antisemitic attacks, against Jews, not Israelis, are up over 300%.

Kindly explain to me why Jewish influencers are getting thousands of comments about the war when they haven’t even stepped foot in Israel.

Kindly explain to me why synagogues are being vandalized and attacked.

Kindly explain to me why Jewish events need extra security or why Jewish speakers require body guards.

Kindly explain to me why there are marches around the world in which thousands chant antisemitic chants about Jews, not zionists.

I’ll wait for your explanation.

Ok, next.

“Israel is ethically cleansing Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank and has been for 75 years.”

Fascinating.

So if that were the case, you’d expect the Palestinian population to be on a sharp decline.

Wanna take a guess how many “Palestinians” (added the quotes because they didn’t call themselves that till Arafat hijacked the word that previously just meant Israelis.) were in Israel in 1948 and how many there are now?

Take a guess.

5,462,888. That’s how many Palestinians there are now. ()

You know what? Forget numbers. Here, I’ll give you a visual.

Does that look like ethnic cleansing?

Want to know what real ethnic cleansing looks like? Go choose any Muslim country and notice how many Jews lived there 50 years ago and how many live there now. That is ethnic cleansing.worldometers.info/world-populati…

“Israel is an apartheid state.”

That’s so interesting because I was just watching an interview with a member of Knesset, Israel’s parliament, who is not only a Muslim Arab, but he’s also anti Zionist. That means he opposes the existence of Israel and yet, he has a seat in the parliament.

If Israel was an apartheid state, why is every road sign in Israel written in Hebrew and Arabic?

If Israel was an apartheid state, why are there Arabs who are judges in Israel?

If Israel was an apartheid state, why do Arabs, Muslims, and Christians have total freedom in Israel?

If Israel was an apartheid state, why are there Arab doctors, lawyers, soldiers, actors, athletes, and CEOs in Israel who are Muslim?

Israel must really suck at this apartheid thing. But since there are so many people out there who are experts in apartheid, maybe some of them can train Israel to up its apartheid game…

🤣

Moving along…

“Give them a state. They deserve a state. If only they had a state, the terror would stop.”

Wow, how did we not think of that?

Oh wait, I forgot one thing.

They had a state given to them once or twice. Or 15 times.

1937, 1947, 1967, 1991, 2000, 2001, 2005, 2007, 2008, 2010, 2013, 2019, 2020.

Perhaps they don’t want a state…

What else we got…?

“End the occupation and the “Resistance” will end.

First of all, let’s just clarify some terms. Resistance. What is legitimate resistance?

Because Hamas beheaded babies, raped girls and old woman, burned families alive, and committed other unspeakable sexual crimes and they also made sure their family members watched their loved ones get raped.

Is that valid resistance to you?

But let’s address the premise.

Put on your logic hat for a second.

If occupation —-> terror

Then logic dictates

No occupation —-> no terror

Right?

So if I show you that Arabs were massacring Jews before any so-called occupation, this whole argument falls apart, right?

What if I showed you that there was Arab terror against Jews before there was even a state of Israel for them to oppose?

1929. Hebron. Arabs massacred Jews.

Great. Glad we cleared that up.

Next…

“Israel is lying about October 7th. There was no rape and Hamas only attacked soldiers. The rest of the people were killed by Israel.”

Um. Where do I even begin?

Ya know what? I can’t even. Go watch the GoPro footage. Go listen to Hamas who is so proud of what they did.

So you don’t believe Israel and you don’t believe Hamas. Got it.

Must be nice to live in a fantasy world.

“Israel is indiscriminately killing Gazans.”

Wow, had no idea.

So is Israel strong and therefore should act with restraint or Israel so weak that even though it’s killing indiscriminately, the numbers don’t reflect that.

Shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of dead Gazans if the mighty Israel is just trying to kill as many of them as possible?

Make up your mind. Is Israel strong or is Israel weak? It can’t be both.

Cmon you’re better than that.

Let’s see, what’s next…

“Islam is a religion of peace and the only reason there is so much radical Islamic terror in the world is because of Israel.”

Awesome. So it has nothing to do with the Quran encouraging violence, right?

Cool cool.

I’ll just leave this here.

Don’t worry, we’re nearing the end…

“Israel is a white colonial state that wants world dominance and is only starting with Gaza.”

Wow, so crazy how I didn’t know.

So how many wars has Israel started? I would assume all of them, since Israel is the aggressor.

How about none? Not a single one.

Israel has never started a war and attacked an enemy first.

Maybe those same people can teach Israel how to be better colonizers.

Also, you don’t have to spend more than 24 hours in Israel to see how many “Not white” people live there.

Ok, I’ll stop here even though I can continue for hours.

Stop spreading lies about Israel. Words matter and if you stand against Israel, you stand with rapists and pedophiles.

History will remember that.

Besides, siding with the Jews, history will show, is the smart thing to do.

Otherwise you join ancient Egypt, Rome, Greece, Nazis, Soviet, Babylonian, and so many other empires who messed with the Jews and are now extinct.

This isn’t just another war. This is a war between the dark forces of radical Islam and the western world and all that it stands for.

This is good vs evil and there is no nuance.

• • •

Hillel Fuld

#Israel #Palestine #October 7 #Facts

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